Book Reviews — September 2023

Originally published September 2023 · pp. 34–37

Redeeming Grant’s Reputation Grant at 200: Reconsidering the Life and Legacy of Ulysses S. Grant. Edited by Chris Mackowski and Frank J. Scaturro. Photos, notes, index, 288 pp., 2023. Savas Beatie, www.savasbeatie.com. $32.95.

Civil War News book reviews provide our readers with timely analysis of the latest and most significant Civil War research and scholarship. Contact email: [email protected].

Reviewed by Jonathan A. Noyalas

Boredom, disease and terror in Lincoln’s Army Toss of A Coin: The Life of a Private in the Civil War. By W. Alan Sprague. Illustrated, self-published, 2022, 219 pp. softcover. Reviewed by Wayne Wolf W. Alan Sprague uses the actual letters of his brother’s great, great grandfather, William Arnold Fuller of Co. E, 114th New York Infantry to fashion a novel, part fact, part fiction, to tell the story of a typical private in the Civil War. William Arnold Fuller’s letters home provide the recanting of his adventures from enlistment in Greene, New York, to his death at Cedar Creek during the last battle his regiment fought. This story also includes Fuller’s comrades, most notable Sergeant Johnson, Smith and Lee, Frank and Hudson Skillman, Daniel Tremain, Jack Chidester, and Calvin Well. Their thoughts, conversations, doubts, fears, illnesses, and travails allow the author to tell these stories as human beings simply wondering, “What have we got ourselves into?” The majority of this book deals with the campaign of the 114th New York in Louisiana after arriving from a tortuous sea trip from Baltimore to Fortress Monroe and then to the Mississippi. Accommodations on their journey to the Louisiana swamps was a tale of crowded, filthy, disease-ridden, and cramped surroundings which made Arnold question the regard the government felt for soldiers who volunteered to save the Union. Upon arriving at Bayou Teche and Camp Mansfield, the next months were spent guarding the New Orleans, Opelousas, and Great Western Railroad and moving camp constantly to consolidate forces or get out of the path of advancing Rebels. The camps were swampy stretches of bottom land that bred hordes of mosquitos, contaminated water, snakes, and rotten rations. Here the 114th fought its first battle near Fort Bisland; here comrades died, hospital horrors were forever etched in the soldier’s minds, and Arnold received his first head wound. After a failed expedition to Sabine Pass, the 114th helped build Bailey’s Dam to assist Admiral Porter’s flotilla and participated in Gen. Nathaniel Banks Red River Campaign. After the fall of Vicksburg and Port Hudson, the 114th was recalled to the Shenandoah Valley and Winchester where, at the Battle of Cedar Creek, Arnold was killed on October 19, 1864. Of the 1,000 men who first enlisted, only 120 mustered out in 1865. Arnold’s story could have been written for any of the farmers turned soldiers who did not survive. This book is well written and does a commendable job of bringing the foot soldier’s trials and tribulations to the reader. It seldom disappoints the reader for its truthful rendition of the horrors of the Civil War and the human tragedy that this conflict brought to families and friends. It is recommended for historians interested in the life of the common soldier.

Dr. Wayne L. Wolf is Professor Emeritus at South Suburban College, past president of the Lincoln-Davis Civil War Roundtable and the author of numerous books and articles including They Saw The Bear Dance, None Showed The White Feather, Homeguard, Hotheads and Heroes of the Civil War, and Surgeons, Sharpshooters, and Skirmishers of the Civil War. He is a frequent lecturer on the life of the Civil War soldier.

Upon learning of the death of Ulysses S. Grant in 1885, the mayor of Boston, Massachusetts, Hugh O’Brien, believed Grant deserved eternal praise from the nation for all he did in leading Union forces to victory, restoring the Republic, and enacting measures to safeguard civil rights. “No citizen… has stood so prominently before the public as General Grant, or has rendered more distinguished services to his country,” Mayor O’Brien noted. While indeed worthy of many plaudits Grant’s reputation plummeted in the decades following his passing, his image cast into that of a butcher or corrupt president. Fortunately, in recent decades historians have begun to reevaluate Grant’s life and legacy and contend, and I believe rightfully correctly so, that Grant deserves a place among the pantheon of the nation’s great figures. This collection of fifteen essays, penned by some of the leading experts on Grant, further bolsters that contention. Some essays in this thoughtfully conceived volume aim to offer fresh perspectives about Grant’s military life. For instance, historian Timothy B. Smith convincingly argues that Grant’s ability to address situations on campaign and on the battlefield came not from a deep understanding of military philosophy but developed as a result of Grant’s “experience and common sense.” Smith quips that Grant was “Clausewitzian when Clausewitz was not cool.” Chris Mackowski cogently surveys what historians have argued were the turning points in Grant’s career as general. While others have offered such notable engagements as Belmont, Shiloh, and Vicksburg as critical moments in Grant’s career Mackowski forcefully argues that if historians must choose one event as the turning point in Grant’s Civil War career, the Battle of the Wilderness and his decision to push the Army of Northern Virginia afterwards should rank as the supreme turning point. Three authors, Charles Calhoun, Alvin S. Felzenberg, and Ryan Semmes investigate aspects of Grant’s political life. Calhoun contends, as have other historians, Grant was not “a natural politician,” but this trio of essays reveals Grant’s deep commitment to civil service reform, civil rights, equality, and expanding the United States’ global reach while maintaining “a peaceful coexistence in Europe.” Additionally, some contributions to this volume explore aspects of Grant’s memory. Frank Scaturro investigates the rise, fall, and reascendancy of Grant’s image and forcefully argues that Grant unquestionably “belongs in America’s pantheon of great presidents.” Historian Gary Gallagher offers a thoughtful reflection about the various shifts in Grant historiography and ponders whether recent efforts by historians to redeem Grant’s reputation will truly “affect popular conceptions of the American past.” While this book’s essays offer much insight into Grant’s generalship, two-terms in the White House, and legacy, this anthology also explores the development of Grant’s character and personal relationships. Ronald C. White, author of the acclaimed American Ulysses, offers an engaging analysis of the important role Methodism played in shaping Grant. White convincingly shows how Grant’s religious beliefs instilled in him values that guided him in all he did. Nick Sacco’s investigation into the relationship between Grant and his in-laws and Grant’s disdain for how they treated his wife Julia offers much insight into the difficult family dynamics Grant confronted and how he navigated them successfully. Among the most intriguing essays in this outstanding anthology is Ben Kemp’s contribution about the Grant Cottage, the place where Grant spent his final weeks and died. Kemp, currently the operations manager at the site, offers a poignant meditation about Grant’s humanity and the power of place. While some might view the site as rather macabre with its beeswax encrusted floral arrangements from Grant’s funeral on public display, Kemp rightfully contends that while the “objects, settings, and stories there can bring people closer to the past” the place and objects, coupled with a full understanding of Grant’s generosity, can “renew one’s faith in humanity.” Other essays exploring Grant’s career at West Point, the general’s humanity at Appomattox, impersonating Grant at living history events, and reflections on the Grant family by Ulysses Grant Dietz, Grant’s youngest surviving great-great-grandchild, further enhance this noteworthy anthology. This thoughtfully conceived collection of fifteen essays is outstanding. While this exceptional volume will appeal to those interested in Grant and offer a nice complement to the burgeoning literature that is redeeming Grant’s reputation, this splendid collection possesses much value for those interested in the power and necessity of revising history. Jonathan A. Noyalas is director of Shenandoah University’s McCormick Civil War Institute in Winchester, Virginia, a professor in Civil War Era Studies at Shenandoah University, and founding editor of Journal of the Shenandoah Valley During the Civil War Era. He is the author or editor of fifteen books including most recently Slavery and Freedom in the Shenandoah Valley during the Civil War Era, published by the University Press of Florida.

The Generals’ Civil War: What Their Memoirs Can Teach Us Today. Stephen Cushman. Full notes serving also as bibliography, index, 230 pp., Chapel Hill, University of North Carolina Press. https://uncpress. org. $24.95, Paperback; $95, Hardcover; E-Book, $19.99. Reviewed by Salvatore Cilella

Ever since David Blight introduced us to the power of memory and its quixotic journey, new scholarship has not only been prodigious but most helpful to understanding America’s great tragedy. The exploration and meaning of memory has occupied such recent authors as Stephen Cushman in his new book, The Generals’ Civil War: What Their Memoirs Can Teach Us Today. It’s a spare volume, only 174 pages of text; but Cushman, in this intriguing and painstakingly researched book, deconstructs the memoirs of Generals Joseph Johnston, William Sherman, U. S. Grant, Richard Taylor, George McClellan, and Philip Sheridan. He faces, head on, the nature of the memoir and its place in historical writing, particularly in the American Civil War canon. Cushman’s line of reasoning runs as follows. Thomas Jefferson divided his famous library into three categories: memory, reason,

Memoirs: History or Literature? and imagination. Under those groupings fell the disciplines of History, Philosophy, and Art. It wasn’t until a hundred years later that the Library of Congress broke with Jefferson’s template and introduced the concept of “general literary studies.” Neatly fitting into this new classification was Mark Twain’s declaration that Grant’s Memoirs was “a great work of literature.” This presents a problem. What is memoir? If it is literature, is it true? If it is history, how much is memory and how much is imagination? Cushman maintains that in the nineteenth century, “European romanticism migrated to the New World, bringing with it transformative ideas about the power of individual imagination.” (p. 11) It was in this moment in America, 20 to 30 years after the most unimaginable and tragic events of 1861-1865, that the “principles” of the battlefield introduced their “first person narratives” to thrill readers longing to hear “the true story.” Cushman argues that this was a new “undertaking.” The totality of the war was incomprehensible. A first-person narrative of someone who “was there,” took the impersonal to the personal. For the person who had never experienced the horrors or tedium of war, the narrative made it as comprehensive as possible. Perhaps the most romantic of the lot was Richard Taylor, lieutenant general in the Confederate army and the son of president Zachery Taylor. His Destruction and Reconstruction: Personal Experiences of the Late War was published in 1879 shortly before his death at age fifty-three. It was the chivalric, “Sir Walter Scott” versions of Jackson’s Valley Campaign in 1862 and the disastrous 1864 rape of the Valley that Taylor attempted to recreate for his readers. His incredible depth of recent and ancient military history and extensive background in literature prompted comrade Jubal Early to remark in his review of Destruction: “Whoever undertakes to read it had better have an unabridged dictionary and an encyclopedia of biography at hand.” (p. 63) In stark contrast stood U.S. Grant’s monumental Memoirs. Cushman’s title for the chapter on Grant says it all: “Ulysses S. Grant and the Achievement of Simplicity.” The story of Grant’s writing and publication involving Samuel Clemens, the terminal cancer providing him a non-negotiable deadline, his completion of the manuscript just days before his death, the popularity of the two-volume epic, and its place not only in history, but literature are factors well known to the historical community. Mark Twain thought it great literature; William Dean Howell’s said so too: “I think he is one of the most natural—that is the best—writers I have ever read. The book merits its enormous success, simply as literature.” (p. 66). Grant’s style wasn’t always so simple and succinct. Cushman attributes his spare, clear, and cogent style to writing telegraphs during the war and emulating his commander in chief in his ability to reduce issues with concise language. For Cushman, Grant evokes Ernest Hemingway as well as Twain himself. For all his simplicity, Cushman faults him for not mentioning his drinking or for his terse description of the Federal disaster at Cold Harbor. Could Grant’s omissions be a case of memory loss or the imposition of imagination? Cushman drills down on the intersection of memory and imagination in his deconstruction of the Joe Johnston and Sherman memoirs. Instead of giving each man his own chapter, the author focuses on the dueling and sometimes complimentary memoirs of the two. He cites two apparently minor incidents as examples of faulty memory and the intrusion of imagination. The first involves Sherman telling Johnston at Bentonville that Lincoln had been assassinated. Sherman wrote of Johnston’s melodramatic response which the latter denied. The second revolves around Johnston’s attendance at Sherman’s funeral, weeks before he succumbed, and his famous refusal to don his hat and proclaim that Sherman would do the same for him. Not true, but a fiction and the establishment of a myth that would be another step toward reuniting the two sections of the country. Powerful memory or imagination? Finishing out the “Shoulder Strap” series of memoirs, Phil Sheridan, hoping to achieve at least the book sales Sherman reached, failed. McClellan wrote only half of what was eventually published. He died three months after Grant and his “McClellan’s Own Story,” was published in 1886 with a publication date of 1887. Editor William Cowper Prime finished it at a monumental 700 pages and it turned a profit for publisher Charles L. Webster & Co. Cushman concludes his dissection of late 19th century memoirs properly giving Mark Twain his due: “Without Mark Twain, the Civil War memory market would not have developed as it did, and without the Civil War there would never been a Mark Twain.” (p.161). After Cushman, re-reading the memoirs of Civil War generals should offer new perspectives on our understanding of the war. As the author concedes, it doesn’t matter if you call them history or literature, not having them would hinder our understanding of our past. “Memory that forgets or omits historical events, “he writes, “either willfully or out of ignorance, is memory that changes or reshapes history.” (p. 165) Salvatore Cilella is the retired CEO of the Atlanta History Center. Between 2001 and 2006 he served as President and CEO of the Indiana Historical Society. He is the author of Upton’s Regulars, A History of the 121st New York Volunteers in the Civil War, University of Kansas Press, 2009; editor of The Selected Correspondence of General Emory Upton, 2017, University of Tennessee Press, and Till Death Do us Part, The Letters of Emory and Emily Upton, 1868–1870, University of Oklahoma Press,

General Johnston Comprehensive reference book – A Controversial General on Artillery of Antietam The Civil Wars of General Joseph E. Johnston, Confederate States Army: Volume I: Virginia and Mississippi, 1861–1863. By Richard M. McMurry. Illustrations, notes, index. Savas Beatie, www.savasbeatie. com. 334 pp., hardbound, 2023, $34.95. Reviewed by Jeffry Wert

According to the author, Dr. Richard M. McMurry, Joseph E. Johnston was “the central military figure in the history of the Southern Confederacy” (p. xiii). The author’s judgment in this and other matters is both thoughtprovoking and debatable. Dr. McMurry has been decades studying Johnston, one of the Civil War’s most controversial generals. In this first of two volumes, Dr. McMurry examines the relationships between whom he calls “Jeff, Bob, and Joe,” Jefferson Davis, Robert E. Lee, and Johnston. Most of the author’s focus is upon the difficult and critical relationship between Davis and Johnston, a pair of inordinately proud and sensitive men. The genesis of the dispute and increasing bitterness between the president and a senior general occurred in the fall of 1861. Davis placed Johnston fourth on a list of officers to be assigned the rank of a full general. Johnston protested at once, arguing that he outranked all of them in the antebellum army as its Quartermaster General while the other officers were colonels. Davis maintained, however, that the colonels with a line rank were senior to Johnston with his staff rank. As a line officer, the Virginian held the rank of lieutenant colonel. Johnston never forgave the Confederate president for this stain on his honor and reputation. Nothing seemed to matter more to Johnston than these personal attributes, apparently even more than the Southern cause. Matters between the two men only worsened and adversely affected the Confederate war effort. Johnston was seriously wounded during the Battle of Seven Pines or Fair Oaks on May 31, 1862. Lee succeeded him temporarily in command of the soon designated Army of Northern Virginia. When Johnston returned to duty months later, Davis assigned him overall command between the Appalachian Mountains and the Mississippi River. For Davis and Johnston, this ill-defined command structure resulted in more disputes between them. McMurry’s description of the deteriorating relationship between Davis and Johnston is richly detailed, forthrightly argued, and based on compelling evidence. The flaws in each man deepened the festering wound between them and undoubtedly contributed to the July 1863 losses of Vicksburg and Port Hudson. The author’s examination of this period forms a central and significant section of the book. He criticizes all the key figures involved for failing to maintain Confederate control of a key portion of the Mississippi River and to prevent Union capture of the two towns. The author’s assessment of the Davis-Johnston feud and its impact on Confederate fortunes will assuredly stir debate. He argues, for instance, that the May 16, 1863, engagement at Champion Hill east of Vicksburg, was the “most important battle of the war” (p. 246). While he does not elaborate, he must believe the Confederate defeat sealed Vicksburg’s fate. Among Davis, Johnston, and Lee, only the latter maintains his reputation in Civil War historiography. This initial volume is arranged in two books, as the author delineates the narrative. The book follows a chronological order but is basically a series of essays. While Dr. McMurry’s conclusions will garner responses, they are learned and judicious. His book merits attention by historians and students of the four-year conflict. Jeffry D. Wert is the author of the award winning book, The Heart of Hell: The Soldiers’ Struggle for Spotsylvania’s Bloody Angle.

Artillery of Antietam: The Union and Confederate Batteries at the Battle of Antietam. By James A. Rosebrock. Published by Antietam Institute, https:// antietaminstitute.org, 442 pages, 2023, hardbound. $44.95. Reviewed by Peter A. Frandsen

The early American Civil War battles showed the severe deficiencies of an antiquated and diluted “democratic” field artillery organization. The Army of Northern Virginia began to organize and concentrate its limited artillery resources starting in 1862; The Army of the Potomac took longer to appreciate the faults and took more time to reorganize and move command and control upwards. The battle of Antietam in September 1862 is the first major battle where command of American artillery began to be seriously centralized at higher tactical levels since the 1781 Siege of Yorktown. Firepower effectiveness correspondingly increased. Although still evolving, that centralization could be recognized today as emulating modern practices however imperfect and uneven. This comprehensive referencetype book covers all combat units that owned or controlled artillery participating in the first Maryland campaign, and includes not only Antietam proper, but also the related battle of South Mountain and the short siege of Harpers Ferry. Eighteen chapters cover Federal artillery units: fourteen infantry and one cavalry divisional artillery, the artillery reserve, XII Corps artillery, and the Federal artillery at Harpers Ferry. Seventeen chapters cover Confederate artillery units: seven infantry and one cavalry divisional artillery battalions, six reserve artillery battalions, two other divisions without artillery battalions, and Evans’ Brigade artillery. At Antietam there was a total of some 116 batteries (57 Federal and 59 Confederate); these are covered in detail. The focus here is on each artillery unit or controlling parent as part of a whole. It does not have a separate general narrative chapter of the campaign as none is needed or wanted here as there are many other books and articles that can be consulted for general information. Nonetheless, the story of each unit is well placed in both the context of the whole campaign and in specific engagements. The twenty-four Federal and twenty Confederate chapters are devoted to one particular unit. Because of the encyclopedic nature of this reference work, the reader will probably consult it on a unitby-unit basis rather than read it from cover to cover as general history. Each chapter is complete standing alone so there is some redundancy in the text. The information about each unit is presented in a standardized, orderly, and consistent format throughout, permitting the reader to better locate and assimilate the massive amount of information presented. The format, whether corps, division, brigade, battalion (reflecting the higher control of artillery) or battery, is as follows: introduction, which has officer names and armament of the unit; a short background containing pertinent or interesting facts about the unit’s history and events leading up to the engagement(s); the unit as a part of the overall Maryland campaign; unit details as a specific part of the campaign whether it be Harpers Ferry, South Mountain, or Antietam proper, or some combination; and finally, a conclusion about the outcome or evaluation of the unit. The detailed endnotes, are at the end of each chapter, which in this case certainly sets some sort of record for any artillery history book. Adding up the number of endnotes comes to 33 general, 789 Federal, and 667 Confederate for a grand total of 1,489 endnotes. All those sources are organized again in the thirteen-page bibliography using small typeface. The many sources drawn upon encompass primary, official, archival, and published material. Graphically, there are 28 full page-sized detailed engagement maps by Aaron Holley. They depict artillery units movements over battlefields, in some cases hourly segments. One feature is a range gauge at a map’s bottom that can be used to approximate the unit’s fields of fire. There are no other illustrations. A full appendix of statistical summaries includes, among other things, the complete text of General Hunt’s prescient order of Sept. 12, 1862, issued just five days before the main battle along Antietam Creek, laying out in depth the tactical employment of field artillery in combat. This seminal order demonstrates unity of command and control and purpose for artillery and is something of a first for American artillery. Up to that time tactical doctrine dissemination was mostly limited to the school, or drill, of the piece. The first book devoted to artillery at Antietam was Curt Johnson and Richard Anderson 1995 Artillery Hell. That book’s title is aptly taken from the personal observation of Confederate artillery officer S.D. Lee. The heart of that good book was built around the report written in 1940 by Joseph Mills Hanson of the National Park Service to develop the Antietam National Battlefield Site for visitors. The focus was the locating units on the field and the often mixed types of armament used by a single element. The older book is well quoted in this new book and so still stands today. The author has been a volunteer and Battlefield Guide at Antietam for some 15 years. He currently works with Antietam’s artillery detachment, Battery B, 4th U.S. Artillery. He has put all that service to good use here. The amount of research, organizing, and writing that went into this work is amazing. It hardly needs to be said that this book is essential to any study of the first Maryland invasion and absolutely required for any study of Civil War-era artillery. The modern artillery reenactor will need this book for the history of his battery. The contents of the older Artillery Hell are sufficiently dissimilar so that both should be acquired for study. Special thanks to the Antietam Institute, Sharpsburg, Md., for assistance with this review. Peter A. Frandsen is the book reviewer for The Artilleryman magazine for over 20 years.

Confederate “Tories”

True Blue: White Unionists in the Deep South during the Civil War and Reconstruction (Conflicting Worlds: New Dimensions of the American Civil War). By Clayton J. Butler. Bibliography, notes, index, photographs, map, 248 pp., 2022. Louisiana State University Press, https://lsupress. org, hardback. $45. Reviewed by Salvatore Cilella

It undoubtedly all started with Jubal Early and his founding of the “Lost Cause” myth. It was moved along seamlessly by the Daughters of the Confederacy, and probably culminated in the Civil War Centennial “Celebration”/ “Commemoration” in 1961– 1965. I write of the notion of two, principled, monolithic armies, “Billy Yank” and “Johnny Reb” (ably aided by Bell Irvin Wiley) facing off against each other in solidarity as brothers in arms. The Centennial only fueled the monolithic myth. Thankfully, recent Civil War scholarship has persuasively pushed back against the grain and offered solid and nuanced insights into the realities of the conflict— north and south. In his new book, True Blue: White Unionists in the Deep South During the Civil War and Reconstruction, Clayton J. Butler has admirably exposed the myth of Southern solidarity. As the title indicates, Butler follows the Confederate Tories well into Reconstruction. The difference is that much more has been written about Unionism in the border states and the upper south. Butler takes on Unionism in the deep south. He devotes one chapter apiece to monitor the First Louisiana Cavalry, the First Alabama Cavalry, Bradford’s Battalion, and the Massacre at Fort Pillow (1864), and one each to Presidential reconstruction of 1865-67 and Congressional Reconstruction of 1867–1877. In a tightly constructed argument and narrative, Butler lays bare the transition members of each “Tory” regiment fared during the war and their fates after the war. Although Confederate Tories were a minority, the story of those in the Deep South has never been told or appreciated as well. The First Louisiana Cavalry was formed in 1861 of primarily foreign born or northern born immigrants to New Orleans. They were rejected as traitors to the Confederate government primarily because of their nonAmerican origins. Nearly 50% were foreign born, Cuba, Mexico, Spain, Portugal, Germany, France, and several other European countries were represented in the regiment. (p 42). Until the arrival of Benjamin Butler’s command, the regiment was hunted by Confederates spurred on by their government’s conscription act of 1862. To the men of the 1st Louisiana, staying with the Union made more sense than the alternative. They viewed the new government as illegitimate and in conflict with the constitution and Union. The 1st Alabama however, was made up of white, native-born Alabamians when it was formed in late 1862. Confederate forces no longer had the rationale they were fighting against foreign born fighters but “neighbors.” Confederate general Samuel Ferguson attacked the regiment under Colonel George Spencer and later remarked how strange it was; “In the very center of the Confederacy” were “men wearing the enemy’s uniform, killed—as some were—within a half mile of their own houses.” (67). Although they were roundly beaten, the First Alabama Cavalry suffered much less than Major William Bradford’s 13th Tennessee cavalry or “Bradford’s Battalion” at Fort Pillow. Although the narrative of the Massacre at the fort has focused correctly on the slaughter of US Colored Troops, 277 of the 585 white Unionists were killed and 202 taken prisoner. (104) As the author points out, it is not his intention to minimize the losses of the USCT, but to balance the historical record. He attributes Nathan Bedford Forrest’s vicious assault on both troops to “perceived race betrayal.” (105) What is most remarkable in Butler’s last two chapters is the documentation of the complete reversal of white Unionists in the Presidential Reconstruction and its follow-on, Congressional Reconstruction. Always in the minority, the “tory” regiments reveled in the Union victory, but quickly succumbed to the “lost cause” onslaught, joining their defeated Confederate neighbors to win the peace for the South. From the start, white Unionists were first and foremost, for the Union. But racial animosity trumped loyalty as emancipation was not part of the original bargain. In the new president, Andrew Johnson, a white loyalist from Tennessee, they saw a chance to return to the old days, the status quo, antebellum. The feeling was mutual. The Lincoln administration, and later Johnson’s, viewed Southern Unionists as foundational to eventual reconciliation and reconstruction. It was not to be. First Louisiana Cavalry’s founder James Madison Wells was a prime example of southern unionism’s tortured history. Wells owned 95 slaves and saw secession as a slippery slope to emancipation. After the war, Johnson installed him as Louisiana’s reconstruction governor. He survived two turbulent years until Military Governor of the Gulf District, Philip Sheridan removed him in 1867 for incompetence. (141) Locally, the social, economic, racial, and political realities pushed Unionists back into the “redemption” fold. As Butler so eloquently points out, “faced with a choice between freedmen and former rebels,” they “could either ally themselves to the revanchist regime, leave their homes, or resign themselves to silence and political impotence.” (129). Most capitulated to the reality on the ground. This powerful book is a much-needed balance to our understanding of the nuances and intricacies of both regions of the country between 1861 and 1877. Butler has combined meticulous research, clear expository writing, and authoritative documentation to present a lucid explanation of a period in American History that demands more understanding. Salvatore Cilella is the retired CEO of the Atlanta History Center. He is the author of Upton’s Regulars, (Univ. of Kansas Press, 2009). He has edited The Selected Correspondence of General Emory Upton, 2 Volumes. (Univ. of Tennessee Press, 2017). A recipient of the 2019 Founder’s Award, American Civil War Museum. He has edited “Till Death do us Part,” the love letters of Emory and Emily Upton documenting their brief and tragic two-year marriage (Univ. of Oklahoma Press, 2020) and the Memoirs of Dewitt Clinton Beckwith, of Upton’s Regulars, (McFarland Publications, 2023).

The Unconventional Jeff Davis, Plus Others The Civil War Political Tradition: The Portraits of Those Who Formed it. By Paul D. Escott, University of Virginia Press, www.upress.virginia.edu. 2023, paperback. $35. Reviewed by Stephen Davis

Group biographies provide variety, invite curiosity as to the author’s choice of subjects and, when they hail from a specific historical era, serve as an interpretation of the times. Paul Escott’s collection of essays on ten famous Americans of the Civil War era does all this, and more. Here they are: Henry Clay, John C. Calhoun, Harriet Beecher Stowe, Frederick Douglass, Stephen A. Douglas, Jefferson Davis, Abraham Lincoln, Horace Greeley, Albion Tourgee, and Elizabeth Cady Stanton. Among the influential American statesmen of the prewar era were, of course, the Great Triumvirate: Calhoun, Clay, and Webster. Calhoun’s evolution from “fervent, committed nationalist” in the 1820s to fierce advocate of Southern rights forms one of Escott’s best chapters. Clay is hailed as a gifted compromiser, but (oddly) Webster is given no chapter. Instead, Escott focuses on Elizabeth Cady Stanton and Harriet Beecher Stowe. Female participation in a book like this is merited, but for the life of me

I can’t figure out why he chose to write on Albion Tourgee, the Reconstruction activist. Robert E. Lee or Ulysses S. Grant might have been a more understandable inclusion, even if a little over-familiar. Throughout Escott’s narrative is its implicit understanding that slavery was a problem which America’s ablest political leaders could not solve. Henry Clay’s idea was to free the slaves and deport them to Africa; others, including Abraham Lincoln, agreed. The author’s disparagement of these advocates as “devoted to white supremacy and intent on ridding the nation of unwanted Black people” is not helpful. One reads a book like this for interesting takes on important figures. One of them is Escott’s view of Jefferson Davis, “a shockingly unconventional southern leader.” As Confederate president he built a strong government, but Escott’s conclusion that he “did more to encourage the sectional enmity and divisive stereotypes that have lasted to our present day” is deliberately provocative. In contrast is the author’s fawning view of Lincoln, including such assertions that he labored “for an outcome in the long-term that honored the ideals of the Declaration of Independence.” Moreover, Escott’s exaltation of Lincoln as working toward America “liberating itself from the evils of racism and white supremacy,” ignores the fact that racism was not even a word in the nineteenth century, and that “white supremacy” was so intimately ingrained in American culture that most citizens didn’t even talk about it. I just wish historians would remember the times of which they’re writing, their times, not ours.

Steve Davis, of Cumming, Georgia, has finished another book: The National Tribune Remembers the Atlanta Campaign. It’ll be published next year by Savas Beatie.