Book Reviews
Book Reviews — June 2018
Originally published June 2018 · pp. 32–40
Civil War News book reviews provide our readers with timely analysis of the latest and most significant Civil War research and scholarship. Contact Stephen Davis, Civil War News Book Review Editor. Email: [email protected]
“Déjà vu all over again” The Election of 1860: A Campaign Frought with Consequences. By Michael F. Holt. Index, appendices, bibliography, notes, 237 pp., 2017, University Press of Kansas, www.kansaspress.ku.edu. $29.95 cloth. Reviewed by Joseph Truglio
When studying Civil War history, have you ever wondered how things escalated to such levels? Did you ever notice similarities to today’s political climate? In this relatively short book, Michael Holt fully explains the political turmoil of the era. He highlights the complicated process of elections, and the devastating consequences resulting from those decisions. As an added treat we gain insight into our current political turmoil. As the saying goes, “those who do not study the past are condemned to repeat it.” This is not verbatim, but you get the gist. Divided into eight chapters and three appendices, Holt’s work is an in-depth history of the political climate existing in the nation before the war and climaxing with the election of 1860. Along the way we are reminded of the days of “Bloody Kansas,” the birth of the Republican Party and its emergence onto the national political scene. The journey continues with the fragmentation of the Democratic Party and the election of Abraham Lincoln. The appendices enlighten us on the voting patterns across the nation. All this is fascinating reading. However, in concentrating on the information, I could not believe how the mood of the nation was so similar to the political climate existing today. The vitriol spewed then led to the rending of the nation. This is a serious account of political history. It is an important part of our understanding of the implications and consequences of political rhetoric and actions. A copy of this book should be on every Civil War student’s bookshelf. In fact, it should be read by every student of American history. I highly recommend it!
Joseph Truglio, of Manchester, N.J., is president of the Phil Kearny Civil War Round Table.
First-ever Biography Utilizes Previously Unknown Letters Cache
Until Antietam: The Life and Letters of Major General Israel B. Richardson. By Jack C. Mason. Notes, photographs, maps, bibliography, index, paperback reprint ed. 2017, 258 pp., Southern Illinois Univ. Press, www.siupress.org, $22.50 paperback. Reviewed by Paul Taylor
Few unsung heroes of the Civil War were revered by their men, praised by their superiors, or trusted by their political benefactors more than Michigan’s Major General Israel B. “Fighting Dick” Richardson. Forty-five-years-old and a simple farmer in Pontiac, Mich., when the Civil War commenced, Richardson possessed ample military experience from his days as a West Point cadet (class of 1841) to fighting in Florida’s Second Seminole War and then later in the Mexican War. Given his martial background, Richardson was called upon to become the colonel of the 2nd Michigan Volunteer Infantry at the rebellion’s commencement. His men soon came to love him, for though Richardson was a stickler for military preparedness, he often looked the other way when his men took liberties while foraging in the fields of suspected secessionists or even if they engaged in outright theft. By the summer of 1861, his growing stature brought him a brigadier general’s star. His brigade fought well though sparingly at Bull Run, earning Richardson further praise and the admiration of powerful Michigan senator Zachariah Chandler. In a time when many generals had their fingers in the political winds, the military aggressiveness displayed by the politically unsophisticated Richardson was a welcome relief to many. His men performed gallantly throughout the 1862 Peninsula Campaign and following the Seven Days battles in July, Richardson was promoted to major general and given division command. When the Battle of Antietam commenced on September 17, 1862, Richardson was at the fore, aggressively leading his division into the melee. However, the general was felled by an exploding shell fragment, piercing a lung in the process. He was carried from the field and taken to Pry House hospital where he remained for the next forty-seven days, his condition ebbing and flowing. Richardson passed away from his mortal wound on November 3, 1862. After Major General George McClellan, the Army of the Potomac’s commanding general, was relieved on November 7, many speculated that had he lived, Richardson’s name would surely have been on the short list to replace “Little Mac.” Richardson’s brief wartime fame and the deep respect he earned from his men and colleagues faded with the inevitable passage of time. The general left behind no grand diary of his exploits nor any other significant written record. All of that changed when author Jack Mason learned of a cache of over 100 previously unseen letters from Richardson that spanned his entire military life, beginning with his time at West Point up to just three days prior to receiving his mortal wound. The letters were privately owned and represented an amazing find that most historians can only dream of. Mason obtained permission from the owner to transcribe and utilize the letters in this first-ever biography of Israel Richardson. They are the foundational cornerstone for a well-researched volume that shines new light on what had been a forgotten fighting general. At 200 pages of narrative, it is a relatively short work that covers Richardson’s entire military career. Approximately sixty percent of the book offers a concise yet thorough portrayal of his brief, roughly eighteen-month involvement in the American Civil War. This book was originally published in hardcover by SIU Press in 2009 and was the recipient of the Army Historical Foundation’s Distinguished Book Award for that year. It has now been reissued by the press in a trade paperback edition. If you missed this title the first time around, now is placed your chance to learn how Major General “Fighting Dick” Richardson profoundly influenced both his men and his superiors in the Union’s Army of the Potomac. Paul Taylor is an award-winning author of seven books pertaining to the Civil War era. His new book is titled “The Most Complete Political Machine Ever Known”: The North’s Union Leagues in the American Civil War and has just been published by Kent State University Press.
An Interesting View Excellent Scholarship Highlights Western Confederate Leaders of the Civil War Turning Points of the American Civil War. Edited by Chris Mackowski and Kristopher D. White. Maps, photographs, illustrations, notes, index, 268 pp, 2018, Southern Illinois University Press, www.siupress.com. $24.50 paperback. Reviewed by Lawrence K. Peterson
A turning point can be defined as a point at which a decisive change takes place and/or a point at which something changes direction. For those interested in the American Civil War, some of the more interesting and delightful debates revolve around what was THE turning point of the war or what were major turning points of it. As a new volume in SIU Press’ “Engaging the Civil War Series,” well-respected editors Chris Mackowski and Kristopher D. White have selected nine articles by well-known authors, each of which presents a particular turning point each favored by that author. These are: Bull Run-Robert Orrison, Ball’s Bluff-James A. Morgan, Shiloh-Gregory A. Mertz, the Emancipation ProclamationKevin Pawlak, ChancellorsvilleKristopher D. White, VicksburgDaniel T. Davis, Wilderness-Ryan Longfellow, Hood Takes Command-Stephen Davis, and the election of 1864-Rea Andrew Redd. Most suggested turning points are well-known and definitely pointed to the eventual outcome of the war. Two are interesting in the world of “what if?” How might parts of, or even the outcome of the war have changed had Albert Sidney Johnston at Shiloh and/or Thomas J. “Stonewall” Jackson at Chancellorsville not been killed? Certainly this creates some potentially provocative possible outcomes.
After the Battle of Bull Run, George McClellan set about building up a strong Union army. However, he failed to fully utilize it in battle. While the Battle of Ball’s Bluff was of minor importance, the establishment of the Joint Committee on the Conduct of the War forced future Union army commanders to move more cautiously than they perhaps might have otherwise moved, hindering Union success. The effect of the Emancipation Proclamation has often been overlooked. Lee’s success at Chancellorsville came at the cost of irreplaceable Confederate soldiers. Ulysses S. Grant’s final capture of Vicksburg contributed to his promotion to general-in-chief of the Union armies and the eventual defeat of the Confederacy. His continuation of what came to be the Overland Campaign eventually resulted in the defeat of Robert E. Lee’s army. While Hood had temporary success in holding off William T. Sherman’s armies at Atlanta, after Joseph E. Johnston failed to halt Sherman, the capture of Atlanta truly marked a significant turning point of the war. This contributed to the 1864 Union elections keeping Abraham Lincoln in office to continue the war to a Union victory. While there are certainly other possible turning points which could be considered, and many readers will undoubtedly have their own favorites, this book provides a core set of turning points for discussion, including perhaps some that readers have not previously considered. While some readers will be disappointed that their particular favorite turning point may not be included, this book is provocative and is recommended reading for any one with interest in the Civil War. Lawrence K. (Larry) Peterson is the author of Confederate Combat Commander: The Remarkable Life of Brigadier General Alfred Jefferson Vaughan Jr. (University of Tennessee Press, 2013). He is president of the Rocky Mountain Civil War Round Table. His next books, Decisions at Chattanooga: The Nineteen Critical Decisions that Defined the Battle, and Decisions of the Atlanta Campaign: The Twenty-one Critical Decisions that Defined the Operation, both part of the University of Tennessee Press’ Command Decisions in America’s Civil War series, are scheduled for publication in 2018 and 2019 respectively.
Confederate Generals in the Western Theater: Essays on America’s Civil War. Volume 4. Edited by Lawrence Lee Hewitt and Thomas E. Schott. Maps, photographs, illustrations, appendix, bibliography, index, 369 pp., 2018. University of Tennessee Press, www.utpress.org. $45.95 hardcover. Reviewed by Stephen Davis
This is the fourth volume of a series offering well-informed essays on Confederate generals who fought west of the Appalachians. All are delightful products of the University of Tennessee Press. Volumes One and Two were published in 2010; Three appeared in
- These three books were edited by Lawrence Lee Hewitt and Arthur W. Bergeron Jr. Sadly, Dr. Bergeron, who was a friend of mine, passed away in 2010. This fourth volume is edited by Drs. Hewitt and Thomas E. Schott, author of the renowned biography of Alexander H. Stephens (1988). They thoughtfully dedicated it to Art, Nathaniel Cheairs Hughes (who died in 2012) and Wiley Sword (2015). I penciled on the dedication page of this work, “omnes requiescant in pace.” Volume Four serves up ten great articles by distinguished scholars. I was first drawn to “A Ghost on Horseback: The Many Wounds and Curious Death of William H. T. Walker,” by Stewart Bennett, professor at Blue Mountain College in Mississippi (where Confederate brigadier Mark P. Lowry taught after the war). Prof. Bennett offers a good summary of Walker’s military career, based on Russell Brown’s biography (2005) and other published sources (including my article on Walker published nearly forty years ago; I remember fondly driving to Duke for several days of reading Walker’s letters to his wife Mary). I appreciated most his parsing of the several accounts of Walker’s death in the battle of Atlanta, July 22, 1864, to suggest (credibly) that Walker may have been shot in battle,
and not while leading his division toward Terry’s Mill Pond, as Wilbur G. Kurtz posited in his notable articles in the Atlanta Constitution in 1930 and Civil War History in 1960. Keith S. Bohannon, who teaches at the University of West Georgia, has written an excellent biographical essay on Edward C. Walthall, a Mississippian who rose to become division commander in the Army of Tennessee. Professor Bohannon is well known for thorough research, and one see its evidence here; he cites Walthall Papers at the Library of Congress, Mississippi Department of Archives and History, and the University of Mississippi. Reading these essays, I’m delighted by more than a few pearls. Dr. Bohannon found an autograph book of a lady in Columbia, Tennessee (through which Walthall and Bedford Forrest passed on December 22, 1864, in the army’s retreat from Nashville). The two generals wrote entries. Walthall just signed his name; Forrest penned his hope that “she may never have to morn over another defete of the confederate army.” Kudos to Keith for having unearthed this gem! In his article on Abraham Buford, one of Forrest’s cavalry brigadiers, Brian S. Wills, professor at Kennesaw State University, tells a good yarn. Pursuing the enemy in the night after Brice’s Cross Roads, Buford was dismayed when his troopers could not identify Yankees; “smell ‘em,” the general advised. One of the pleasures of this series is its variety of topics. Take C. David Dalton’s essay on Brig. Gen. Felix Zollicoffer, remembered today for having ridden into Union lines in the battle of Mill Springs, Kentucky, and getting himself shot and killed. Dalton’s explanation for George Crittenden’s decision to attack Thomas’ numerically superior force at Mill Springs gives it a more logical basis than I’ve seen elsewhere (as in Raymond Myers’ biography, The Zollie Tree [1964]). Kudos to Larry Hewitt and Tom Schott for this commendable addition to the western theater’s bookshelf. Stephen Davis is Book Review Editor for Civil War News. His next book, Flawed Image: Confederate General John B. Hood in 1864, will be published by Mercer University Press.
Where Forrest and His Men Rode and Fought The Battles and Campaigns of General Nathan Bedford Forrest 1861–1865. By John R. Scales. Index, bibliography, footnotes, illustrations, maps, 465 pp., 2017, Savas Beatie, www.savasbeatie.com. $32.95 hardcover. Reviewed by Jeffry D. Wert
Nathan Bedford Forrest stalks across the pages of Civil War history. He possessed unquestioned military skill and perhaps was the conflict’s finest commander of mounted troops. In turn, his war and postwar careers have been controversial even to recent times. Forrest’s story is likely a familiar one to most readers of this publication. Book Review Editor Stephen Davis has written a very fine account of his life in a recent issue of CWN. Other historians, notably Brian Steel Wills and Jack Hurst, have written solid biographies of the Confederate “Wizard of the Saddle.” Forrest’s role in campaigns in the Western Theater has been detailed by historians. The author of this book, John R. Scales, a retired Army brigadier general, has focused his work entirely on Forrest’s campaigns and battles during the conflict’s four years. Scales attempts to chronicle on an almost daily basis Forrest’s presence and operations from his enlistment until his parole in May 1865. The author examines Forrest’s generalship from strategic, operational and tactical levels. The author’s own military experience offers a welcome perspective on the general’s accomplishments and failures. Scales argues that Forrest’s impact on the course of the war was significant on four different occasions—July–August 1862 in Middle Tennessee, December 1862 in Western Tennessee, February 1864 in northern Mississippi, and April 1864 at Fort Pillow. In the first three occasions, Forrest’s operations aided the Confederate war effort by delaying Union occupations of Chattanooga, Tennessee, Vicksburg, Mississippi, and Selma, Alabama, respectively. Fort Pillow, however, gave the Federal government a propaganda coup. The author concludes the book with, “I agree with Sherman, Forrest was the most remarkable man our Civil War produced on either side.” Scales’s book is not notable in research in primary sources or in a vast array of published works. It is quite notable, however, in the extensive research required to provide the reader with a detailed travel guide to Forrest’s raids, skirmishes, and battles. In a sense, the book is a travelogue of Forrest’s operations. It is an impressive accomplishment and a unique contribution to studies of Forrest’s Civil War career. The book also contains 109 finely done original maps by Hal Jesperson. The main problem with the book is its narrative. It reads like a Civil War unit’s “Record of Events.” In the author’s commendable quest to be thorough and detailed, the result is a sameness to page after page, with only the dates and places changing. The book should have had a careful editing before publication. It can be a slow read with too many grammatical errors. The main elements of the book—its details, the author’s judgments, the outstanding travel guide, and the numerous organizational charts—make it a welcome study. If a reader chooses to follow in Forrest’s footsteps, this book is a required companion. Jeffry D. Wert is the author of several books on aspects of the Civil War, primarily on the Eastern Theater. His Cavalryman of the Lost Cause: A Biography of J. E. B. Stuart was published in 2008.
Helmuth von Moltke is said to have dismissed the American Civil War as a poorly conducted affair from which there was little of value that European armies could learn. This has not, however, stopped students of the war from making a vigorous effort to find a place for the war in the broader evolution of military thought and practice during the nineteenth century, with the degree to which Americans were exposed to the theories of Antoine Henri Jomini often being identified as a vital connection between American and European military experiences. While she does not deny that Jomini and his writings had an impact on how the North thought about the conduct of the war, Carol Reardon effectively demonstrates in her reissued book that the subject was much more complicated than J.D. Hittle recognized when he famously endorsed the notion that many Civil War generals “went into battle with a sword in one hand and Jomini’s Summary of the Art of War in the other.” She does so in the course of a thorough examination of three distinct yet inextricably related subjects. The first is the debate over “strategy” that occurred in the North over the course of the war, one that received particular energy as a consequence of the failure of early war leaders Winfield Scott and George B. McClellan to achieve victory over the rebellion and the remarkable body of literature that appeared in response to this debate. The second is the dispute over the value of professionally educated officers that informed debates over American military policy from the time of the founding of the republic, but received particular energy during the Civil War as a consequence of the perceived shortcomings of McClellan and other West Point-educated officers. Finally, Reardon uses the Virginia campaigns of 1864–65 and the effect of continuous campaigning on Federal forces commanded by Ulysses S. Grant to illustrate the importance of the human element in war, a factor in the conduct of operations that military theorists, with their focus on generalship, seemed to consistently give short shrift to. This is a book that deserves and should find a wide audience. In addition to shedding important light on aspects of the war that had heretofore not received adequate attention from scholars, it is also impressively researched, analytically rigorous, and clearly written. Especially notable, and reflective of her long history of active engagement with the professional military and previous scholarship, is Reardon’s ability to address the subject of her book in ways that will be of value to readers whose interest in military affairs extends beyond the history of the Civil War.
The Influence of a Famed European Military Theorist With a Sword in One Hand & Jomini in the Other: The Problem of Military Thought in the Civil War North. By Carol Reardon. Notes, bibliography, index, 168 pp., 2012 (paperback reissue, 2018). University of North Carolina Press, www.uncpress.unc. edu. $25 paper. Reviewed by Ethan S. Rafuse
Ethan S. Rafuse is professor of military history at the U.S. Army Command and General Staff College and is the author of McClellan’s War: The Failure of Moderation in the Struggle for the Union (2005) and Robert E. Lee and the Fall of the Confederacy, 1863–1865 (2008).
Looking Beyond Charleston for Southern Nationalism The Road to Secession in Antebellum Georgetown and Horry Districts. By Christopher C. Boyle. Maps, photos, illustrations, notes, index, bibliography, 143 pp., 2017. The History Press. www.historypress.net, $21.99 paperback. Reviewed by Tom Elmore
Horry (pronounced ORR-ee) and Georgetown counties in northeastern South Carolina are today popular tourist destinations. Millions of visitors flock to the Grand Strand, a sixty-mile stretch of Atlantic Ocean beaches across both counties, making tourism one of the biggest industries in the Palmetto State. Ironically, two hundred years ago these counties were also one of the biggest economic engines driving the South Carolina economy, but for far different reasons. From colonial times until the Civil War, Georgetown District, as it was called then, was the nation’s largest rice-growing county, producing over 36 million pounds of rice in 1840, almost half of all the rice produced in the United States. And though Georgetown society was overshadowed by Charleston, one Georgetown plantation owner noted that they were “gentlemen of culture, educated at northern colleges or in Europe.” He further added that they did not seek high elected office, but were willing to serve in local offices and in the state legislature. While some rice was grown in the Horry District, this county had a more diversified economy that produced naval stores, timber, corn and sweet potatoes. While not as wealthy as their southern neighbors, the Horry planters were highly literate and very involved in politics. Of course, cotton was produced in both counties, though unlike many other parts of the Palmetto State, it was not the main crop for these two districts. Almost all of the area’s rice was grown in marshlands near the coast. Though the planters revolutionized the use of steampowered machines for threshing and pounding of the product, the planting and harvesting of rice was very labor-intensive, which meant the growers had a strong vested interest in seeing that slavery was allowed to continue. They were also concerned about tariffs because much of their crop was exported to Europe. So when the issue of raising tariffs came up, area planters were outraged. As the 19th century progressed, the planters became more militant, which was reflected in the local newspapers promoting Southern nationalism. Militia groups were formed and Georgetown planters took a more active role in South Carolina state politics. By the 1850s the local newspapers were calling for secession. Two years later, nearly two dozen men from Georgetown District went to Kansas to fight with the proslavery forces. Thus when South Carolina finally did secede from the Union, many in the region celebrated. Boyle, a local historian, does a good job of capturing the mood and the feelings of people in the region during the antebellum period. He shows that when it came to society and secession fever, Georgetown District, while not as populous as Charleston, did not take a back seat to its southern neighbor. Unfortunately, the author spends too much time in some places on national events, which interrupts the flow of the book and all but pushes Georgetown and Horry Districts aside. Some tighter editing in places would have made this book better. Still, Boyle should be commended for calling attention to this region of South Carolina during this period in history. Too often the tale of secession has been focused on the Charleston and lower coastal areas. While this is an academic book that the casual reader may not enjoy, it is a book that anyone with an interest in South Carolina history or the evolution of the secession movement will find useful and fascinating. Tom Elmore is an historian, writer and lecturer specializing in South Carolina’s 18th and 19th century history, as well as American pop culture.
Spotlighting the Gray Ghost’s Conspiratorial Operations Ever the Gray Ghost: Colonel John Singleton Mosby and the Lincoln Conspiracies. By David Goetz. Maps, bibliography, notes, index, 312 pp., 2017, Higher Education Publications, www.hepinc.com. $35. Reviewed by Thomas J. Ryan
Studies of the assassination of Abraham Lincoln for the most part do not ascribe a prominent role to Col. John S. Mosby among the conspirators. Although numerous publications exist about Mosby, commander of the 43rd Battalion Virginia Cavalry—otherwise known as Mosby’s Rangers—they also do not devote much space to his involvement in a plot against the president of the United States, as well as other prominent government leaders. One reason for this is that Mosby left few traces of incriminating evidence. Since the days when he served under Confederate cavalry commander Jeb Stuart in Gen. Robert E. Lee’s Army of Northern Virginia, Mosby has become a legendary figure, with much of his fame and success attributable to his single-minded devotion to duty, and the loyalty of his rangers. He conducted guerrilla operations behind enemy lines, disrupted Union resupply efforts, and gathered vital information about the enemy’s strength, location, and intentions. In Ever the Gray Ghost, author David Goetz, a Mosby devotee and scholar, conducted an examination of his role in the assassination “to enhance the broader understanding … rather than demean the character of Colonel Mosby….” Goetz, descended from the family of Chaplain James M. Graves, a Jesuit priest who served with Generals Joseph Johnston and Thomas J. “Stonewall” Jackson, operates Mosby’s Confederacy Tours out of Marshall, Virginia. He previously published ‘Hell is Being a Republican in Virginia’: The
Postwar Relationship Between John Singleton Mosby and Ulysses S. Grant. The book’s theme is Mosby’s and Grant’s search for peace and reconciliation between North and South in the years following the Civil War. Goetz is the former commander of the Black Horse Camp, Sons of Confederate Veterans, in Warrenton, Virginia—excellent qualifications to engage in this task. The first half of this book includes a description of prior plots directed at Union as well as Confederate leaders, the evolution of intelligence operations within the Confederate military and governmental establishment, and Gen. Robert E. Lee’s employment of intelligence in his military planning and execution. Goetz augments this with an overview of a Rebel intelligence network that functioned via a “Secret Line” running in both directions between the capitals of Richmond and Washington and beyond. This approach establishes a basis for understanding the direct involvement of high-level Confederate officials in clandestine operations. In the second part, Goetz explains how Mosby and his rangers assumed roles that would help guarantee success of a conspiracy targeting the president of the United States. The record is sparse concerning Mosby’s participation, because he preferred to conduct business by word of mouth and relied on the capability and dedication of his men— who had to meet stringent criteria to qualify as one of his rangers— to carry out his orders. Virgil Carrington Jones, one of Mosby’s early biographers, wrote in Ranger Mosby (1944) that although there was a report linking Mosby to Lincoln’s death, “the charge against Mosby was untrue….” However, more than 40 years later, a study titled Come Retribution: The Confederate Secret Service and the Assassination of Lincoln by William A. Tidwell with James O. Hall and David Winfred Gaddy, published in 1988, laid the groundwork for Goetz to pursue the sparse but intriguing details.
Goetz examines events such as Mosby’s forming a new company, on April 5, 1865, four days before Lee’s surrender to Grant, and how Confederate munitions expert and saboteur Sgt. Frank Harney was embedded into this company. Their mission is believed to have been to blow up the White House with Lincoln and his cabinet in it. However, the men were routed in a fight with Federal cavalry in Fairfax County, Virginia, and Harney and members of his team were captured. Mosby had men in place in Virginia and Maryland to assist Harney escape had his plan succeeded. What results from the author’s delving into the murky records of clandestine adventures—that some preferred not to come to light—is the willingness of John Mosby to serve his president and his country to the utmost of his ability, despite the realization that history might look upon his actions as reprehensible. To Mosby, it seemed, duty came first, and the consequences be damned! Goetz illustrates his story with a variety of graphics, including maps, charts, and photographs of the participants. Also appended are biographical sketches of selected members of Mosby’s Rangers. While a general audience will find this book intriguing as well as instructive, the legion of Lincoln conspiracy scholars and Mosby fans will appreciate the collation of Confederate intelligence operations along with a detailed examination of John Mosby’s furtive connection to what the New York Times headlined “the Murder of President Lincoln.” Thomas J. Ryan, former president of the Central Delaware Civil War Round Table, is the author of Spies, Scouts, and Secrets in the Gettysburg Campaign: How the Critical Role of Intelligence Impacted the Outcome of Lee’s Invasion of the North, June-July 1863 (2015). His latest book, currently underway with coauthor Richard R. Schaus, is Eleven Fateful Days in July 1863: Meade Tracks Lee’s Retreat after Gettysburg.
Conservatism in Crisis The Stormy Present: Conservatism and the Problem of Slavery in Northern Politics, 1846–1865. By Adam I. P. Smith. Notes, bibliography, index, 331 pp., 2017, University of North Carolina Press, www.uncpress. org. $45 cloth. Reviewed by Wayne L. Wolf
This book presents an in-depth analysis of the two decades before the Civil War and how Americans were beset by political and social differences which ultimately propelled them to war. Slavery was the catalyst, the white elephant in the room, that threatened the political stability so cherished by the heirs of the founding fathers. Conservatives were being forced to act as revolutionaries. Their faith in the institutions formulated by the founders was being attacked. The politics of compromise that had protected the Union was being rejected. The majority of Americans were being forced to enter the debate over how much freedom could be preserved without sacrificing social order. Conservatives, representing continuity with the past, had to reconcile their love for stability against the requirements of the Compromise of 1850, the Fugitive Slave Act, the Kansas-Nebraska controversy, the Dred Scott decision and the Lecompton Constitution. The Union could only be saved if clear lines could be drawn between the slave and free states so each side could tolerate the moral and legal system of the other. The inability to do this placed the nation on the brink of catastrophe. It was a failure of conservative politics that ultimately led to a war between people’s liberties and a centralized, monarchial rule. The Stormy Present expands on this meaning of conservatism from previous historical analyses by historians Patrick Allitt (The Conservatives: Ideas and Personalities Throughout American History, 2009) and Rachel Hope Cleves (The Reign of Terror in America: Visions of Violence from Anti-Jacobinism to Antislavery, also 2009). Adam Smith sees conservatism as laying the foundation for restoring the antebellum balance between liberty and power, a battle we are still fighting today between states’ rights and a concentrated Washington power center. Hence the Civil War did not break the mold of American political thought. Everything was changed by the war, yet nothing was different in the struggle of liberty versus power. Freedom had done battle with despotism and won but only temporarily. The Stormy Present is well-written, voluminously footnoted with primary source material and presents a historically accurate portrayal of conservatism’s changing definition in antebellum America. It chronicles how basically conservative Northerners were led to accept radical change and discusses the question, was the Civil War a war to abolish slavery or preserve the Union? For readers who want to gain a better understanding of how Northerners were led to accept Abraham Lincoln’s view of America, this book is a valuable tool. It is highly recommended for its treatment of slavery and how the majority of Northerners rejected extremism until forced by secession to make a choice. A similar text regarding the Southern evolution of political thought during this same period which impelled the region to secession would be a welcome companion volume. Wayne L. Wolf is Professor Emeritus at South Suburban College and the author of numerous Civil War books and articles, including The Last Confederate Scout (1995). He currently is finding and transcribing Civil War soldiers’ letters that have recently been discovered to make them available to researchers.
Historian Bradley Clampitt made his name for a book on military and civilian morale in the Western Confederacy, and it seems a natural progression of his work in this arena to examine Vicksburg, Miss. Rather than providing yet another look at the campaign to capture this valuable piece of Confederate real estate, Clampitt starts his newest work in the aftermath of the surrender, continues through to the end of the war. A number of books have come out over the last two decades examining how the war affected certain cities and towns, and this new tome not only fits into that category, but is also a detailed look at the soldiers, people, freed slaves, politicians and more, as well as how that river town did or did not cope. Each chapter focuses on specific topics, beginning with the Confederate surrender and its direct aftermath. Then followed a week to ten days of defeated Confederates depending on the victorious Federals for food (despite Federal troops’ finding sizable food caches). The Federals tried to treat their captives with respect; by the time of the Rebels’ parole and their march out to the parole camps, both sides sighed in great relief. This chapter is packed with detail from Grant and Pemberton to the lowest privates of both sides, laced with accounts mined from a mountain of sources. In the chapter “Blue Over Gray: The Unionization of Vicksburg,” Clampitt’s work digs deep into how the Federals, with little previous experience in this realm, attempted to turn a rabidly secessionist city into one that could “just get along” with its occupiers. Since Vicksburg was besieged for some time and shelled, the circumstances were quite different from, say, Nashville, which was captured without a shot being fired. Union orders to treat people and property with respect, paying for homes to stay in, and bringing theater and other distractions to town were strong attempts to make life normal. The arrival of Northern businessmen who opened new stores and stocked them with goods long missing was a solid effort. Some of it worked; much did not and this chapter sets the tone for those to follow. Clampitt lists those who commanded Vicksburg after Grant left: from Generals James McPherson (whom Grant leaned on heavily to run the city even while he was still there) to Henry Slocum to Napoleon Dana. He also rates them as to how they did or did not succeed in their core mission, which makes for interesting reading. Each had his own style and temperament and all tried to solve their respective problems. Clampitt delves into the Federal efforts to extend life into nearby abandoned plantations, attempting to turn them back into working farms to provide food and jobs for recently freed slaves. Adjutant General Lorenzo Thomas interjected himself into this program that started with great hopes but collapsed. Northerners came to run them (including Davis Bend, owned by the brother of Jefferson Davis) and yet their management fell apart—but not for the reasons they did in the city. As Federal troops were drawn away from Vicksburg and its outer defenses (about as far east as Big Black River), these plantations lacked military cover. Guerrillas and Confederate cavalry soon came calling. In fact, such activity exploded all around the Vicksburg area, proving an age-old adage that conquering hostile territory requires much more than holding a city. Succeeding chapters treat the freed slaves and how many died from diseases as they poured into the city; freedmen’s camps created a racial problem with the local white population now that the blacks were no longer subservient. Numerous accounts are featured from all sides, adding greatly to our knowledge of human traits in the mid-19th century South. Many black men joined the numerous United States Colored Troops regiments being formed to help hold captured cities. Clampitt’s work here is illuminating, using accounts from former slaves as well as Confederates and white Federals alike. Clampitt concludes by showcasing the growing white Southern resistance to Federal rule. The formerly somewhat genteel style of occupation had by now transitioned to the hard hand of war, in which homes were forcibly taken by Union officers from known pro-Confederates. The author writes about a woman whose mother had been banished for smuggling and her attempts to work through Gen. Dana’s wife. Clampitt is not judgmental here; he reports what took place like it was from his sources; it is all quite informative. This is a wonderfully researched and written, but complex book. Within each chapter it might have helped to have sub-headers when subjects were changed to break up the narrative. Also missing are photos of pertinent people and maps showing plantation locations, guerrilla activity, etc. Both would have helped. One error declares Nathan Bedford Forrest at war’s end as a major general; he was a lieutenant general. The book also ignores many of the Union military operations that emanated from Vicksburg for the rest of the war, save for a few against guerrillas. That story still needs to be told. If you are seeking a deeply researched book on humanity during the Civil War, and how war forced the dumping into close proximity people of opposing sides, you would be hard pressed to find something better. This is a very educational work and Clampitt wisely, with this as his goal, keeps the focus on people. Greg Biggs, of Clarksville, Tenn., is an expert on Civil War flags and also speaks widely on logistics in the Western theater.
Vicksburg, After Pemberton Surrendered Occupied Vicksburg. By Bradley R. Clampitt. Notes, index, 304 pp. 2016, Louisiana State University Press, www.lsupress.org. $48 hardcover. Reviewed by Greg Biggs
A New Border State Study Adds “The Sound of Gunes Significantly to the Secession Crisis Story and the Whizzing of Balls.” A Union Indivisible: Secession and the Politics of Slavery in the Border South. By Michael D. Robinson. Images, notes, 1 map, tables, bibliography, index, appendix, 312 pp., 2017. University of North Carolina Press, www.uncpress.org. $34.95 cloth. Reviewed by Tim Talbott
Much like fresh studies on Southern Unionism and guerrillas, scholarship on the Border States’ role during the Civil War era has experienced a surge of attention in recent years. Important full-length works by Aaron Astor, William C. Harris, Stanley Harrold, Patrick Lewis, Anne Marshall, and Christopher Phillips, among others, accompanied by a host of scholarly articles, have all added significantly to this rather previously unexplored yet important region. Michael D. Robinson’s A Union Indivisible: Secession and the Politics of Slavery in the Border South goes a long way toward answering many of the questions that emerged from the Border States’ unique position as slaveholding yet Union-loyal entities. Not surprisingly, Kentucky, Missouri, Maryland, and Delaware each had their own distinctive political, economic, social, and cultural traits, yet they also held many values in common as well. The Border States’ geographical position helped develop a trade network that created strong ties to both neighbors above, as well as below their borders. Their commitment to the institution of slavery often proved to be just as strong as the Deep South states’, yet certain facets of slavery were quite different in the Border States due to the mixed agriculture of the region. Additionally, the Border States had produced some of the United States’ most influential statesmen and made significant military contributions to the nation in previous times of need, both further cementing it to the idea of a perpetual Union. All of these considerations influenced the Border States’ stance on secession and their ultimate decision to remain in the Union. Robinson explains that the Border States’ “in-between” geographical and political position was an uncomfortable one for them. Caught in the middle, the Border States saw the potential coming conflict as most devastating to their region and future. The national rending caused feelings of anxiety to those in the border. The author makes it clear that white Border State Unionism was tied directly to a commitment to slavery as a means of racial and social order. Put another way, without the Union, there would be no means of enforcement of the Fugitive Slave Law. Without the Union, decades of stability and political accomplishments were truly threatened. Their conservative nature prompted the Border States to seek a solution. Kentucky’s Henry Clay rescued the nation in 1820–21, 1833, and 1850. But dead since 1852, Clay could not save the Union from the grave. White Border State citizens sought to maintain an evenkeeled approach to the political crisis. Damning both abolitionists and fire-eaters equally, they hoped that the Republican Party and secessionism were both temporary. Into this precarious situation appeared a light of hope:
John J. Crittenden. Robinson astutely claims that historians have largely viewed Crittenden and his compromise measures through a modern hindsight lens. It was possible that his measures could have passed piecemeal as had Clay’s compromise in 1850. Additionally, the vast majority of Americans at that time did not see slavery as the moral issue it later became and put the goal of national unity primary to emancipation. Regardless, it was largely the noted statesman who bought time for the Border States when the situation was most precarious. The debate that Crittenden’s compromises generated buoyed hopes for a solution. It also allowed time for an initially hot secession spirit to largely die out in the Border States. One thing that I particularly appreciated about A Union Indivisible is the coverage it provided to each of the Border States as they dealt with the secession crisis. The smaller Delaware is too often excluded in similar studies, due to its size and its seeming bond to the larger Maryland’s fate. However, as Robinson shows, Delaware had an important part in the Border State story as well. The book’s level of research and scholarly analysis is excellent and illuminating. However, providing a few more images of the major players discussed within it would have helped. Only photographs of Kentucky’s John J. Crittenden and Maryland’s Henry Winter Davis are included with the text. A Union Indivisible provides a previously missing key piece of scholarship; that is, how the Border States experienced the secession crisis, why they ultimately chose to remain within the Union, and what that meant for the nation when the conflict finally raged in earnest. Tim Talbott is the Director of Education, Interpretation, Visitor Services, and Collections at Pamplin Historical Park and the National Museum of the Civil War Soldier in Petersburg, Va. He developed a keen interest in Civil War-era Border State studies while he was formerly employed at the Kentucky Historical Society for six years.
Remember Me to All: Letters Home From Soldiers at Vicksburg. By Brad Quinlin and Dick Ransom. Photos, maps, 320 pp., 2017. Mountain Arbor Press/[email protected] (Quinlin). $19.95 softcover. Reviewed by Robert L. Durham
This volume is the result of years of research accumulating the letters that are contained herein. They cover the entire Union struggle to command and control the Mississippi River, from Vicksburg to New Orleans. Indeed, the first letters are from New Orleans, describing the city’s capture; this was the first step in a long process that would end in the battles for Vicksburg. Vicksburg was the final key to the Mississippi. There are letters that tell of the activities that took place, the Federal maneuvers to place their army in a position from which they could besiege and capture the city, and Confederate counter exercises to defeat the Union plans. Letters from both sides give descriptions of the Federal fleet bombarding the city, running past the Confederate batteries, and other exciting accounts. Of course, the letters provide much more than military schemes; they contain much of a personal nature. At times, the letters are so personal they are almost uncomfortable to read. One series of letters from a Yankee soldier to his wife are especially poignant. She wants him to come home no matter what, she misses him so. He yearns equally for her but knows that he cannot leave his comrades, or his duties as a soldier. Then we discover that he is illiterate; his letters are being written by his friend. The friend seems to be uncomfortable being in the middle of these highly private letters. He takes it upon himself to advise the man’s wife on various matters. There are many similar letters. Once the city of Vicksburg was placed under siege, there was no way for the Confederate defenders to get letters out. However, one of the Rebels left a letter of some fifty pages, written to his wife—written on an almost daily basis. There are also accounts from the citizens of Vicksburg, describing life in caves, in which they sheltered from Federal bombardment. Surprisingly, some of the caves were quite luxurious with carpets covering the floors and walls, and furniture from their homes. The story of Vicksburg continues after the surrender of the Rebel army and its parole. Yankee soldiers were still stationed at Vicksburg after the battle to make sure it was not recaptured by the Confederates. These men had stories to tell of passing boring hours on picket and stimulating tales of raids after Reb guerrillas. The editors let the letters tell their own stories, with very little comment. However, they place the letters within their historical context. This book will provide someone with very little knowledge of the Vicksburg campaigns the information they need to understand what the soldiers are experiencing. I recommend this book. Many letter collections have been published over the years, but this volume is in a class of its own. I enjoyed it, and think others will also. Robert L. Durham has been a devoted Civil War buff for many years. He has written several military history articles for publication in various historical magazines, including CWN, and internet blogs
Grant Merits More Respect Both as a General and a President Grant. By Ron Chernow. Photographs, maps, notes, bibliography, index, 959 pp., 2017. Penguin Press, thepenguinpress.com. $40 cloth. Reviewed by Walt Albro
When Ulysses S. Grant recounted his many battlefield victories in his 1885 Memoirs, he omitted mention of one critical fight: his personal struggle with alcoholism. His publisher, Mark Twain, lamented that he, Twain, had not tried harder to convince the general to discuss his drinking problem in print. “I wish I had thought of it!” Twain wrote. “I would have said to Gen. Grant, ‘Put the drunkenness in the Memoirs—& the repentance & reform. Trust the people.’” This biography by Ron Chernow—author of Hamilton, the book on which the popular Broadway musical by the same name is based—compensates in part for Grant’s failure to write openly about his affinity for whiskey. Grant’s alcohol addiction is just one of many aspects of the general’s life that are given fresh perspective in this exhaustively researched 959-page volume. Even as a young West Point graduate posted on a remote West Coast Army base, Grant was aware that he had an obsessive thirst for liquor. “I have a natural craving for a drink,” he confessed in a letter. His commander in 1854 at Fort Humboldt, Calif., was a strict, bythe-book martinet. One morning when Grant showed up for duty after a binge, the commander was so incensed that he threatened to court-martial Grant unless he resigned from the Army. Grant had actually been sober enough that he could have beaten the charge, but he apparently feared having to admit to his beloved and formidable wife that he had backslid on a promise that he would never drink again; so he resigned. In essence, Grant was cashiered from the Army for drunkenness. When the war came, the North was desperate for trained, experienced officers, so it overlooked the fact that some officer candidates, such as Grant, were alcoholics. (He was not the only general officer in the Union Army who abused whiskey.) Grant’s problem was less an issue of how much or how frequently he drank, but more the noticeable behavioral change induced by even small amounts of alcohol. One drink was enough to slur his speech; two drinks caused an unsteady gait and an abrupt personality change— usually a reversion to a state of infantile babbling. Iron self-control and bulldog perseverance were traits that served Grant well as a general. He employed these same characteristics to control his drinking. He rigidly avoided alcohol in public and almost never drank at a time when clear-thinking was needed—that is, in a battle situation. Grant would give in to his addiction about once every three or four months, and he usually would drink alone. He typically went on a binge following a major battle, when he would travel to another city for a brief period of rest and relaxation. Two individuals were helpful to Grant in maintaining his sobriety at the front. One was a staff officer, John Rawlins, and the other was Grant’s wife, Julia. Rawlins gave orders that no officer was to offer an alcoholic drink to Grant. Those who forgot discovered to their dismay that they would be degraded in rank and transferred to another command. Julia’s forceful personality enabled her to play the role of her husband’s protector against the evil of liquor. When well-wishers would send Grant a gift bottle of liquor, Julia would pour the contents on the ground. Grant never drank when Julia was nearby. There were exceptions to these patterns. Reliable witnesses claim that Grant went on a least one binge each while he was in the field during the sieges of Vicksburg and Petersburg. Grant’s drinking was potentially more harmful than commonly acknowledged, although his efforts to control it were superhuman, and largely successful. Chernow’s approach in this biography is to research deeply and to uncover information that is either new or has not received the attention it deserves. The result is a more nuanced picture of Grant: He was a both a better general and a better president than he is generally given credit for. This book causes us to question some of our preconceived notions. For example, the consensus has been that Grant had a mediocre intellect. This is partly derived from the fact that he ranked only in the middle of his West Point graduating class. However, in Grant’s case, a class ranking is not a good barometer of his talents. Grant’s genius was a mixed bag. He was brilliant in some areas, deficient in others, and only average in most. At West Point, he displayed a dazzling talent for math. His skills were so outstanding that the Academy asked him to stay on after graduation to serve as a math instructor. Also, Grant had a photographic memory. A friend related that Grant was able to meet a person once and then, after not seeing him for 20 years, instantly recall this person’s first and last names. These signs of aptitude are counter-balanced by a certain naiveté and gullibility, especially in personal financial matters, that made him appear to be a dullard. Because of these weaknesses, Grant, throughout his life, was an easy mark for scam artists and con men. It has been alleged that Grant was a poor general who won, not through superior tactics, but through superior numbers— and that he was a butcher, who was recklessly wasteful of his numerical advantage. Actually, as a proportion of his army, Grant consistently had a lower percentage of casualties than did Robert E. Lee. Finally, Grant has been commonly viewed as a bad president, mostly because his administration was marred by a succession of scandals, even though the president himself was never involved. It was, after all, the Gilded Age, with a sudden rise in corruption pervading both business and government. No matter who was elected president in 1868, he probably would have seen a high degree of government corruption exposed during his term. Under-appreciated is President Grant’s exemplary record in promoting civil rights for blacks and suppressing the KKK. Chernow debunks one popular story about Grant that has often been repeated in biographies. The tale goes as follows: A congressional delegation visited Lincoln to lobby for the removal of Grant on the grounds that the general drank too much. Lincoln asked the delegation to determine what brand of whiskey Grant drank. If that brand made fighting men, Lincoln wanted to distribute it to his other generals. When a government clerk asked him about the veracity of this amusing anecdote, Lincoln replied, “That would have been very good if I had said it, but I reckoned it was charged to me to give it currency.” Although the yarn sounds wonderful, it never happened. Walt Albro is an editor and writer residing in Rockville, Maryland.
