Kevin Levin's Remembering the Battle of the Crater

Let's get straight to the point here. Kevin Levin's new book, Remembering the Battle of the Crater: War as Murder,  is an exceptionally solid work. The book is meticulously researched, and most important, it provides insights into the ever-dynamic (and my personal favorite) sub-field of historical inquiry: memory studies. The book begins, fittingly enough, with the battle itself - underscoring the deeply ingrained racial prejudices against the black soldiers of the United States Colored Troops. It then traces, through the development of the Lost Cause narrative and the systematic exclusion of black people from the southern body politic, how blacks were essentially written out of the Crater story, not only in the South but for some northerners as well - even though they played a significant role in the bloody attack.

I found the chapter called "Whites Only" among the most compelling. This discussion of how early battlefield interpretation left little room for the commemoration of the black soldiers who fought there is clearly building (admittedly so) on David Blight's conclusions in Race and Reunion. Early reconciliation gestures formed the foundation of the park's development.  In the latter decades of the nineteenth century, northern (white) veterans would travel south to visit the sites of their past battles. In the case of the Crater, they were often treated cordially by their former enemies including William Mahone and others. When meeting, veterans from both sides discussed shared virtues of bravery and fortitude - and significantly noted "all feelings of sectional strife [were] entirely forgotten or blotted out." (91)

These meetings, aiding the efforts to put land aside for the creation of a national park, unfolded against the backdrop of a challenging balance between economic development and historic preservation. Without question - the promotion of tourism loomed large for Petersburg officials - and by 1932, land had been secured for the dedication of a national park. The Crater site (formally a golf course) was added in 1936. A subsequent battle reenactment (in 1937) and the National Park's interpretive signage and literature scarcely noted the involvement of African American soldiers in the Union attack.

This narrow commemorative focus took hold and continued through the twentieth century - into the era of the Civil Rights movement and the Civil War centennial. Early commemorative efforts combined to write a persistent message: reconciliatory gestures and shared racism worked to minimize the sacrifices of black participants at the Battle of the Crater. Only recently has the African American narrative gained a place on the battlefield.

Things that I would like to discuss with Kevin over beers:

Without question the interpretive stance at Petersburg (and many other battlefields) for the longest time framed the war as a white man's conflict. Equally true - northern veterans on missions of reconciliation intentionally played down issues involving race. This book does a splendid job at focusing in on a particular place as an emblematic site of one strand of Civil War memory.

Those who read Cosmic America regularly know that I think this particular strand of memory was atypical in the contexts of commemorative cultures broadly defined. But I admit that it existed in certain times and in certain places. I will also note that this strand of memory is significant in terms of how Americans write twenty-first century commemorative culture that challenges a national racist past. As such, Remembering the Battle of the Crater is an outstanding source, which convincingly shows how groups of people can interpret history according to their needs - reconciliation and economic benefit - and in fact, develop commemorative themes that dictate empowerment.

My bar-stool questions for Kevin (and he will have some time to think about it, we next meet in March 2013): what did the veterans (those whose reconciliatory efforts helped develop the site as a national park) have to say when their former enemies were not around? Were they so cavalier about dismissing racial issues or black peoples' involvement in the war? Were they quite as forgiving when it came to former enemies? How would you define a national commemorative ethos and where does the Crater story fit in?

Of course I have questions...that's what I do. And my own conclusions may diverge somewhat from those offered in Remembering the Battle of the Crater. But all of that notwithstanding, I say buy the book. Read it. You'll thank me later for the recommendation.

K

 

A Book You Need to Check Out - The Won Cause

Greetings Cosmic Americans!

Yesterday, I did a video interview for Civil War Monitor. Stay tuned, the air date is coming up in the next couple of weeks so I will keep you posted. We talked about all kinds of things - but one thing we did not have a chance to get to were some of the recent Civil War books that really stand out. No fault to the Monitor....we just ran out of time.

So I will talk briefly about one here and now. Barbara Gannon's The Won Cause is the most engaging book on Civil War veterans I have read in quite some time. Think about this: the largest fraternal organization in the 19th century was integrated. Yes. If this surprises you, it may be because no one has really given that rather remarkable fact much thought until now.

There is a consensus among historians (as I have spoken of often) that suggests whites essentially turned their backs on black veterans after the war. Gannon tells us otherwise - focusing on the Grand Army of the Republic (the largest Union veterans' organization). She shows how, although racism persisted throughout the country after the Civil War, white Union veterans honored its black members, feeling a bond of comradeship that transcended racial barriers.

But don't take my word for it - read the book.

Peace,

Keith

 

What Civil War Book Most Influenced You?

Greetings Cosmic Americans!

I speak often about the many Civil War books that I have found compelling over the years. Of course, there is Bruce Catton's body of work - my introduction to Civil War history, and David Blight's Race and Reunion - the very best book I have ever read that I disagree with. I keep these books on my short list for a variety of reasons.

But if there is one book that most influenced my thinking - at least when it comes to Confederate nationalism, Confederate identity, and how the Confederate States of America finally succumbed to defeat, I would have to give the nod to Gary W. Gallagher's Confederate War.

Before I thoroughly engaged this book, I considered Confederate defeat in terms of internal divisions. Popular national support (or lack thereof - for a multitude of reasons), popular connections to the institution of slavery, and the disconnect between civilian and military leadership all seemed problematic enough to suggest that maybe...just maybe the Rebels did themselves in.

Gallagher's book did not change my mind on the spot - but it got me thinking about the Confederate cause and how the Confederate people persevered for four years despite these things. Further investigation convinced me that the Rebels had internal troubles to spare, but were profoundly committed to independence and a slave-holding republic and were willing to sacrifice nearly everything to get it. You don't need to take my word for it - just read the book...have a look at the evidence in comparison to other works discussing Confederate defeat (Robinson's Bitter Fruits of Bondage would be a good start) and decide for yourself.

And in case you were wondering about my current thoughts on Confederate defeat - I am going to have to go with George Pickett: I am pretty sure the Union army had something to do with it.

Peace,

Keith

Remembering Race and Reunion: Ten Years Later – Some Comments on a Review

Those of you who read the web component of the Civil War Monitor this week will undoubtedly have by now seen Brian Matthew Jordan’s thoughtful and compelling look back at David W. Blight’s Race and Reunion: the Civil War in American Memory. Ten years after Race and Reunion got us all thinking about how the Civil War generation remembered the conflict, says Jordan, Blight’s work still resonates. Not so much for its power to provide the last word on Civil War memory, but rather for the groundbreaking path it so eloquently cleared for a host of those (myself included) who directed their scholarly interests toward memory studies.

Race and Reunion was one of two books that convinced me to pursue a career as a historian (I’ll let you guess what the other one was….get it right and I’ll send you an autographed 8X10). But not exactly because I thought Blight got it all right. In fact, quite the opposite happened. Like many other historians have since discovered, It surprised me that those who killed each other in great profusion for four years could not simply let “bygones be bygones” while commemorating on the pedestal of shared racism. Sure enough, the historical record resounds with bitter reflection – from both sides...often with some aspect of the fight for emancipation at the center of what can best be described as a contested commemorative ethos.

Jordan reflects not only on the significance of Blight’s work, but also on the state of the field as it has grown over the last decade, suggesting scholars – even those who have challenged Blight’s thesis – owe a great deal to this monumental achievement of intellectual history. Noting that a handful of historians (again…myself included) have reconsidered the implications of the emancipationist cause in post-war celebrations, he sees the fight for emancipation making a turn back into memory studies – not to lament its disappearance in the commemorative literature, but to do precisely the opposite – and reveal veterans’ persistent efforts to highlight this highly contentious strand of commemoration.

But Jordan’s conclusions offer a cautionary tale. By repositioning slavery at the heart of the conflict, are we running the risk of creating some sort of “morality play that we tell and re-tell in an effort to exorcise white guilt?” Perhaps – but as long as we remember that from a Union perspective, a sense of what historian Thomas J. Pressly called a “moralizing self-righteousness” pervaded the commemorative vernacular – then, remembering the emancipationist cause does not boil down to a one-dimensional “good” war but rather another way, coupled with the memory of treason, to stick it to the Rebs for trying to create a slave-holding republic.

Jordan’s own work on the trauma of the Civil War will certainly be another valued addition to the growing collection of scholarly works denoting the various ways Civil War soldiers remembered the war. Like the recent work of John Neff, who reminds us that Union veterans had a hard time forgetting a war in which so many of their comrades were killed, Jordan will undoubtedly shed light on yet another troubling roadblock to reconciliation.

From where I sit – I see a lot coming down the pike in terms of the Civil War and memory studies. I would like to see more people make the distinction (if there is indeed one) between “reunion” and “reconciliation.” Scholars, including Blight, often conflate the terms. I see them as related, but not the same thing. I grapple with this in my own upcoming book – and I would like your thoughts as well. So feel free to chime in.

Peace,
Keith

The Bitter Fruits of Bondage by Armstead Robinson

Greetings Cosmic Americans!

There is an interesting story behind the book, Bitter Fruits of Bondage: The Demise of Slavery and the Collapse of the Confederacy. Civil War scholar Armstead Robinson passed away in 1995. He had been working on this book for years but never completed it. Since his death, a number of scholars pieced together the manuscript and selected evidence and arguments (from diverse and often conflicting segments) to make this book the best representation of Robinson’s voice as possible.

By the time it was finally published in 2005, Robinson's book was far out of date, even though Edward L. Ayers’s jacket blurb says otherwise. This book is a child of the 1980s – when social historians were searching for the internal divisions that destroyed the Confederate States of America. Their efforts sought to disprove Lost Cause arguments suggesting northern superiority in men and material did the Confederacy in. Had Robinson published his book back then, it would have been a monument in the historiography. As it is now, it is a window into the past, but not useful to advance the understanding or challenge more recent scholarship on why the Confederates lost.

The point of this book is simple enough: The southern way of life was unable to provide the support necessary to sustain a war effort – specifically, slavery sapped nationalism from the very beginning.

Robinson highlights the class tensions between slaveholders and increasingly bitter yeomen and other nonslaveholders. This is a familiar tale (see also William Freehling’s The South vs. The South on internal dissension) of a rich man’s war and a poor man’s fight. Slaveholders duped everyone else into waging war, and it then became apparent (because of substitutes and 20 slave laws) that the nonslaveholders were fighting to maintain a system that only benefited rich whites – all the while the very same rich whites were weaseling their way out of the army.

Meanwhile, slaves were fleeing to Union lines in great numbers, denying the CSA their labor and handing it over to the US war effort. This served to exacerbate growing tensions between the white classes. Bread riots at home and huge desertion rates suggested that Confederate soldiers and civilians were not behind the war effort – particularly an effort conceived on the premises of a “slaveholders republic.”

Arguing that an internal class conflict eroded the white southern will to sustain a bid for independence is to confront directly the heritage of the Lost Cause Many things: the peculiar configuration of Confederate mobilization, the genesis of popular discontent with the war effort, the failure of agricultural adjustment, the birth of state rights ideology, the halting attempts by Jefferson Davis to cope with rampant internal dissention, the disintegration of Confederate society – all of these stemmed from the Confederacy’s failure to preserve stability on the home front. The Civil War south discovered that it could not sustain wartime slavery and simultaneously retain the allegiance of the nonslaveholding majority – and thus…the Confederacy was destroyed from within.

Now I disagree with this argument entirely – I believe that the overwhelming majority of white southerners supported the cause – despite the grumblings that take place when a society goes to war. They supported independence and slavery - even the nonslaveholders had a stake in the system. But I suggest reading this book – it is a great time capsule of sorts. And although published early in the 21st century…it is a nice window into the historiography of the 1980s.

Peace,

Keith

Continuity and Change in the Civil War

Greetings Cosmic Americans!

And good evening to you where ever in the world you might be. Great news! Thanks to the nice people (especially Joseph and Ravi) at the Apple Store in the Grove in Hollywood, my computer is back up and running...better, stronger, faster - and all for no charge. You gotta love these guys when it comes to customer service.

Today I have been reading Northerners at War: Reflections on the Civil War Home Front by J. Matthew Gallman. The title is a shade misleading because it is (mostly) about Philadelphians at war, who I suppose are indeed northerners, but not any more northern that the good citizens from Boston, New York, Cincinnati, or Milwaukee. So the book - a collection of essays - is not so much about all northerners, just some. But while I have a tendency to pick nits about nearly everything, I would also like to point out that this is a very good book. Buy it - you won't be sorry - especially if you have more than a passing interest in the City of Brotherly Love.

Northerners at War has got me thinking about a puzzling question: did the war act as a great catalyst for change in the United States or did things end up pretty much the same in 1865 as they had been in 1860 and before? The question in and of itself is not what I find so puzzling, but rather, why it is framed in this manner. Gallman, by the way, stresses continuity. Case in point from the opening essay: yes - northern (from Philly) women moved in to the public sphere in new ways through their work in the United States Sanitary Commission and in other capacities during Philadelphia's Great Central Fair in 1864. But, as Gallman points out, their work was circumscribed by prevalent gender roles. They did many of the things that mid-nineteenth century women did, they just did them outside the home - in public...and in the press. So it seems that gender assumptions made no great leaps during this period. Continuity prevailed (at least in Northerners).

I can't say with any degree of certainty that I have all the answers here, but I will ask this: does framing a historical inquiry in the "either it changed or it didn't" manner only present a sort of flimsy dichotomy? From a northern perspective, the Civil War broadly defined was an effort of continuity from the very beginning - restore the Union. And that they did. And they did so by harnessing the available resources - including the work of those who had seldom before (or in limited ways) entered the realm of public  - and dare I say....traditionally political - activity. I can get behind Gallman's focus on continuity. But his juxtaposition against change leaves me hanging a little. Is that really all there is to it?

Many other historians have a tendency to look at the war as a great transitional event - particularly when it comes to peoples' self image as citizens  - or in terms of assumptions about race, class, gender...you name it. I am going to go way out on a limb and challenge this. But not in a way that simply accents the absence of transition. Looking at United States history as an unfolding of a series of transitions from one thing to another (the Civil War being the most apparent example of this) assumes a near teleological  - and almost always triumphal - trajectory.

While transitions certainly took place during the war (just ask the 3 million former slaves in 1865...), we could say transition (or change or whatever you want to call it) happened in an effort to get back to something that many Americans in 1860 thought could be slipping away. So northerners fought (and won) the war. And in so doing opened some doors for people who had suffered from the imposition of custom - but in an additive rather than transitional way.  We might even say that change assumed a conservative tone.

Have I simply confused the issue further? Good. At any rate, these are just a few ideas that I have been toying around with lately - so I would like to thank Matt Gallman for his thought provoking words.

Peace,

Keith

More on Contingency - Ed Ayers's In the Presence of Mine Enemies

Greetings Cosmic Americans!

Continuing on with yesterday's post discussing (in part) contingency and the Civil War, I thought I might offer a few words on Edward L. Ayers's book, In the Presence of Mine Enemies.

Ayers crafts a narrative claiming to be free from such analytical impediments as simple explanations, stark opposites, and sweeping generalizations. Seeking to clarify how otherwise intricately linked communities - one northern and one southern - wound up on opposing sides of the conflict, Ayers builds a case for “deep contingency.” For Ayers, deep contingency emphasizes “dense and intricate connections in which lives and events are embedded.” Further, it rejects formulations of inevitability, particularly those that pit “progress” against “backwardness” implying an obvious victor. He does so by weaving together national events with sectional, political with cultural. Ayers considers previous analyses of chance, what he refers to as “surface” contingency, flawed. This scholarship, Ayers argues, has only emphasized and dramatized national affirmation and redemption thus obscuring the realities of the period. Arguments boiling down to simple “unfolding inevitabilities,” he claims, “ miss the essence of the story.” Yet, does observing contingency at a supposedly deeper level represent a significant departure from previous efforts to understand the Civil War era? I am not so sure.

Ayers’s principal objection to James McPherson’s brand of contingency refers to both his Pulitzer Prize winning Battle Cry of Freedom and his later publication illuminating the “turning point” at Antietam, Crossroads of Freedom. He acknowledges McPherson’s conclusions regarding battlefield contingency and admits that momentous events on the battlefield had dramatic repercussions for both the Union and Confederate causes. Further, Ayers agrees that events in the war were unpredictable and could have deviated in multiple directions with innumerable potential outcomes. Thus, he similarly emphasizes the so-called turning points of 1862 – the Valley campaign during the summer arresting the Union onslaught in Virginia, and Lincoln’s Emancipation Proclamation following the narrow Union victory at Antietam that autumn. However, while Ayers maintains that prior works concerning these events appropriately underscore the lack of predictability in a war, he concludes that they do not support the notion of deep contingency that frames his book. “We acknowledge contingency,” Ayers suggests, but because contingency eventually led to the end of slavery, we “still feel the pull of the inevitable.”

For Ayers, an understanding of deep contingency helps one read beyond the simplistic formulation of the Civil War as a slave society versus a non-slave society. To avoid “false impressions that we have explained something when we have not,” Ayers insists on gathering as much data as possible concerning the whole society. Only then will the profound web of connections between politics, ideology, culture, and economics be revealed. One can identify sudden historical shifts easily enough, but illustrating the root cause (or causes) is infinitely complex.

Ayers’s reading of Battle Cry and Crossroads suggests that McPherson has made the critical error of illustrating the forces of history working in a predictable and ultimately positive direction, and that McPherson illustrates contingent factors – the chance occurrences on the “surface” – as events further aligning the war toward the known outcome: the prevailing cause of freedom.

Well...maybe so, but I am still puzzled at the need to differentiate between deep and surface contingency. You be the judge - as always, your two cents are more than welcome.

Peace,

Keith

Paul Buck and the Road to Reunion

Greetings Cosmic Americans!

Historians speak often about the storied "road to reconciliation" after the Civil War. I, as you all probably know, have spent the last ten years talking about it, and I do not think that I will relenting any time soon.

The scholarly approach - at least how many understand it - is part of the foundation of the history and memory cottage industry that has been a hot topic for the last couple of decades.

The approach (most famously argued by Yale historian David Blight) boils down to a few simple lines. Reconciliation came at the expense of what was promised by Union victory. Black people - slavery and emancipation - were essentially whitewashed out of the war's memory. The Civil War was thus commemorated on southern terms. You can find out why I do not necessarily agree with this idea by doing a simple search for "reconciliation" right here on Cosmic America.

But Blight's take is only new in that is casts a negative light on effort by both by sides to reconcile. Others...earlier in the twentieth century, drew similar conclusions - although they were celebrating reconciliation in the process.

Among the first to assess the implications of reconciliation, Paul H. Buck tendered an affirming appraisal of veterans’ efforts despite the overt racism apparent at commemorative gatherings. In 1937, his The Road to Reunion, 1865-1900 lauded the “positive influences” paving the way for the “promise of ultimate peace” and applauded the breakdown of sectional animosity during the postwar years. He nevertheless admitted that reconciliation ushered in a “period where [black people] would no longer figure as the ward of the nation to be singled out for special guardianship or peculiar treatment.” Buck paid tribute to reconciliation but observed “the tremendous reversal of opinion” regarding freed people.

Just a few thoughts, I'll talk more about historiography earlier in the twentieth century later this week...then - a trip to Gettysburg for the Civil War Institute conference! Stay tuned for that one!

Peace,

Keith

John Neff's Honoring the Civil War Dead (his take on) the Problem of Reconciliation

Greetings Cosmic Americans!

And what a perfect morning it is - the sun is shining, the birds are chirping, and the helicopters are circling overhead. It is a beautiful day in Los Angeles.

Given my tendency to reflect on my work of the past several years, I thought it appropriate to discuss one of my favorite books on the issue of national reconciliation in the wake of civil war (sheesh - that would make a great book subtitle!).

John R. Neff is one of the few (and I mean few) who go against the grain by suggesting that all was not so benignly reconciliationist (for better or worse) during the post war decades - especially in terms of commemoration. Sure, as he admits, there were a great deal of spread-eagle, but alas, issue-free reconciliatory efforts/movements/gestures...or whatever you choose to call them...

...but what of those who persistently reminded citizens of the more troubling memories of the war years? What of those memories that did not fold neatly within the confines of the current understanding of reconciliation? Where do they fit in the commemorative ethos? Neff’s book, Honoring the Civil War Dead: Commemoration and the Problem of Reconciliation examines those outside the reconciliation framework defined by most scholars. Basking in the light of the “cause victorious,” Neff argues, many of the Union veterans mourning their fallen comrades harbored bitter resentment toward their former enemies.

Reasoning that veterans could in no way imagine the memories of their fallen comrades apart from the contentions of war, he suggests their sentiments represent the key challenge to reconciliatory efforts in the late-nineteenth century. This compelling study does more to expose the lingering bitterness than any of its predecessors.

Yet it oversimplifies antagonisms by reinforcing a dichotomy of reconciled versus unreconciled veterans. Analyzing these individuals in terms of stark opposition – those who were committed to reconciliation and those who were not – may indeed be a dead end.

It is this over simplification that I find so troubling - and what I also find to be the hardest thing to overcome when considering this era. But riddle me this - Can one favor....even embrace reconciliation on antagonistic terms? It seems that yes indeed, one can - especially if you were a Civil War veteran.

I have fired more than one warning shot right here on Cosmic America - and have written a (soon to be published) book on the subject. So stay tuned...there will be more to follow.

Peace,

Keith

The Emancipation Proclamation: Three Views

Greetings Cosmic Americans!

I have thinking quite a bit these days about the Emancipation Proclamation, Lincoln's role as commander-in-chief, and the legacy of emancipation during the sesquicentennial. I recently revisited a very good book - The Emancipation Proclamation: Three Views, by Harold Holzer, Edna Greene Medford, and Frank J. Williams.

Fittingly, the authors choose to open their absorbing study of the Emancipation Proclamation with the words of Frederick Douglass – one of the most compelling figures of nineteenth-century United States history – to illustrate the varied reactions to a document that has traveled a “bumpy historiographical road.” Praising Abraham Lincoln’s (preliminary) Emancipation Proclamation as a “righteous decree” while questioning the president’s “hesitating and forbearing” caution, Douglass was both admirer and critic – a reaction that the authors suggest presaged the “complicated, almost schizophrenic, response [the document] has elicited.” As the authors point out, since 1862, analysis of the Emancipation Proclamation has developed into two opposing camps – one highlighting the document as the crowning achievement of Lincoln the Great Emancipator, the other focusing on the proclamation as an act of wartime desperation issued from the pen of a racist president.

To their credit, the authors do not simply argue from the comfortable (and well worn) position of one side of the historiographical debate or the other. Rather, they tap into contemporary reactions issued from diverse groups, including, significantly, those who were the subject of Lincoln’s decree – slaves – to illustrate the importance of the widely ranging series of responses, interpretations, and efforts of commemoration. While the subtitle of this book could imply a sustained debate contesting the contemporary meaning and legacy of the Emancipation Proclamation, the three contributors to The Emancipation Proclamation provide complementary arguments - each individual analysis accenting a particular context.

Edna Greene Medford examines how black Americans derived meaning from a document beyond the author’s intentions and seized every opportunity as active agents in freedom, Frank J. Williams argues that Lincoln’s genius for the law provided the means to maneuver around the inherent conflict between his constitutional obligations and his hatred of slavery, and Harold Holzer maintains that the “central document” of Lincoln’s administration gained prominence not during his lifetime, but through artistic representation and Lincoln iconography in the post-war realm of public memory. The overall result is a single volume that both admonishes reductionism and eschews present-minded critique.

Holzer, Medford, and Williams, together with eminent historian John Hope Franklin, who provides the foreword, should be applauded for collaborating on this succinct, well documented, and thought provoking study. Perhaps, a more nuanced analysis discussing the varied responses of “common” Civil War soldiers would further strengthen this volume by illustrating how the issues of slavery and emancipation reached white America beyond the upper echelons of politics and the military. This criticism aside, students of the era will greatly benefit from a collection of essays that illustrates how the Emancipation Proclamation was, in the words of Lincoln, “the great event of the nineteenth century.”

Peace,

Keith

The Myth of the Lost Cause, 1865-1900 by Rollin G. Osterweis

Greetings Cosmic Americans!

Historians have a tendency to explain Confederate commemoration as if it was generally accepted across the nation – as if former Confederates ultimately won the war with the pen. In 1973, historian Rollin G. Osterweis attempted to explain this phenomenon. Osterweis analyzed images, literary and otherwise, of moonlight and magnolias, the “obliging old Uncle Remus,” and, the “good, gray Confederate veteran.” He observes a persistent sense of “southerness” despite a humiliating Confederate defeat and several years of infuriating Reconstruction politics. White southerners, Osterweis suggests, used these images a part of their efforts to romanticize and pay tribute to the antebellum South. He further notes, former Confederates clung fervently to a new American nationalism and, ironically, the righteous, fiercely sectional account of the Confederate States of America “[was] continually belied by the conduct of Southerners themselves.” In this way, veterans involved in Civil War commemorations seemingly connected the New South – characterized by “progress,” industry, and steadfast devotion to reunion – to a benign past that, while virtuous, inevitably gave way to modern America. In short, proponents of the New South who had shouldered muskets for the Confederacy looked to a promising future. They carefully recalled a few scattered memories that helped southerners come to terms with their greatest failure, retain a sense of regional dignity, and embrace a reunited nation.

Osterweis concludes that extensive (and nationwide) admiration of southern generalship, southern courage, and southern chivalry reinforced the myth of the superiority of southern armies in “everything except numbers and material,” thus lending credence to the Lost Cause rhetoric of the day. Ultimately, through vastly popular publications such as the Battles and Leaders series, Osterweis claims, “Yankeedom took to its heart the Lost Cause.” Northerners might have admired certain benign aspects of southern culture and even respected their former enemy’s fighting spirit. However, the implication embedded in many treatments on the Lost Cause – that former Confederates “won the war with the pen” – obscures the anxieties articulated by former Rebels clearly perceiving animosity all around them; that they in fact still fought a war with words.

Although I believe that Osterweis misses this glaring problem in postwar commemoration, the book is well worth reading. It is an important piece of the reconciliation story - one that is currently under revision. Sometimes there are a few copies available on Amazon - click HERE to grab one before they are all gone!

Peace,

Keith

Gary W. Gallagher's The Union War

Greetings Cosmic Americans!

At long last my much promised look at Gary W. Gallagher's latest, The Union War. If you recall, a few months back I met with Gary and briefly discussed this volume. As you probably guessed, The Union War is a Companion piece to his 1997 publication, The Confederate War, in which Gallagher argues persuasively that the rebs did not pursue the war knowingly against impossible odds. They thought they could win, almost did on more than one occasion, and in the end...held on as long as they possibly could.

In The Union War, Gallagher argues against today's preoccupation with emancipation as the only noble and worthy Union cause. This, he offers, obscures the importance of Union for the wartime generation. The overriding motive for North was restoration of Union, not emancipation.

Now, I think it is safe to say that Americans today want the war to be about emancipation. But as Gallagher points out, even though Union soldiers knew that slavery was the war's cause, only a tiny fraction of the white northern populace hoped to use the war to eradicate the institution. The freeing of slaves, a reality as the Union armies maneuvered in Confederate territory, worked generally as a means to undermine the Rebel war effort. Thus, as a means to preserve the Union.

Detractors have, and will, argue - as has Eric Foner - that The Union War places undue emphasis on the Union Army's role in emancipation. One could indeed question exactly what kind of Union the war was being fought to preserve - and that slavery, the most troubling issue on the table in 1860, was foremost on the minds of the party in power. Unwilling to bend on the prevention of slavery's expansion into the western territories and even with gradual emancipation up for discussion, the waging of war against the seceding states had to mean that a new vision of Union - free from slavery - must have been a principle motivating factor - indeed the only "noble" one, considering that a Union with slavery intact seemed morally reprehensible to the beacon of democracy. After all, Lincoln could have easily preserved the Union by giving in to southern demands in 1861, which he did not.

Now Gallagher admits that emancipation became, as the war progressed, a viable solution to the problem of preservation...one which would have been unnecessary had the war reached its conclusion with Union victory in 1862. But with all of this in mind he reminds us that "Union" has lost its meaning to modern observers. In the 1860s, loyal United States citizens embraced Union above all as paramount - the defining word of American exceptionalism. And so The Union War - using letters, newspapers, and diaries - reviews the centrality of Union in the mid-nineteenth century - a centrality that motivated millions of loyal citizens to rally around the banner...and save the best hope for democracy in the world.

Of course, after the war - as Gallagher mentions - the nobility of emancipation became increasingly popular, at times mirroring the celebration of Union. But this, as I have pointed out ad nauseum (and it seems that Gallagher agrees) was part of a moralizing self-righteousness that swept the nation in the postwar years. During the war, emancipation punished the enemy - in peace, it punished the vanquished.

Peace,

Keith

Guess What Just Came In the Mail...

Greetings Cosmic Americans!

Well - it has finally arrived: my very own review copy of Gary W. Gallagher's new book, The Union War. Yes indeed - it came in the mail yesterday...and to my surprise - I made it in to the acknowledgments! How freakin' great is that? (Answer: pretty great)

So am all ready to have at this one. If you remember, a while back I did a video interview with Gary concerning this very work. You can check it out HERE.

I promised a review and Harvard University Press took notice and graciously supplied the book - so stay tuned. Give me a few days to do a close read and I will fill you in. I have a sneaking suspicion that The Union War will set the record straight on how the loyal people of the United States understood the Civil War.

Until then....

Peace,

Keith

Virginia's Private War by William Blair

Greetings Cosmic Americans!

I re-read one of my favorite books this week: William Blair's Virginia's Private War: Feeding Body and Soul in the Confederacy, 1861-1865. Let me tell you why I really really love this book.

There is a school of thought in Civil War scholarship that suggests the Confederates did themselves in...that dissension at home and in the ranks meant that Confederate soldiers as well as the the white southern populace were never that on board with Confederate nationalism. The second things got a little rough for the southern cause people abandoned it wholesale.

Naturally , I think this is a load of crap. Rebels stuck it out as long as they possibly could - both on and behind the lines. They were - for the most part - completely in tune with the notion of Confederate independence...despite the hardships that they had to endure.

William Blair drives this point home. His book - a wonderful piece of scholarship that I would recommend to anyone - suggests that Confederates - actually in this case, Virginians - did not lose the war because of failed nationalism or internal conflicts.

Neither of these things work as a simple explanation for Confederate defeat – dissent existed and functioned as a catalyst for change in the Confederacy. And here's the real zinger - Confederates still supported the cause even though they often lost faith in the government. Their “sense of purpose” remained strong until finally in the winter 0f 64-65 the Union army took its toll.

The point - it was wartime. Yes people were pissed because of shortages, conscription, and all of the other things that can just make a wartime society mad -  but did they want to abandon the Confederate experiment, or did they just want a fair shake? That, I suppose is the key. You can still support your cause even if you think it is being run poorly.

Virginia's Private War focuses on three counties: Albemarle (Charlottesville), Augusta (Staunton) and Campbell (Lynchburg). These counties contained a range of plantation (slave) and grain farming - representing a wide spectrum of Virginian Confederates.  Plus, C’ville was an intellectual center, which means they were doing a lot of thinking about important issues in the vicinity of the University of Virginia (OK, Bill….lets not get carried away).

In the end, Blair credits the Union Army with victory...something that has been curiously overlooked by scholars seeking the ways the Confederates defeated themselves. As it turns out...the Rebs were defeated on the battlefield. Imagine that. Remember, even the storied Confederate George Pickett once said of defeat..."I think the Union Army had something to do with it."

Peace,
Keith

Why I Love Bruce Catton

Greetings Cosmic Americans!

We all have our favorite Civil War author - mine is Bruce Catton. Not because he championed some paradigmatic shift or headed some interpretive school of thought, but because he introduced me to Civil War scholarship - written with elegance and grace that I have not seen matched since I first read his work in 1976.

Catton's The Civil War was the first book (a Christmas gift from my grandparents) on the war that I ever read. It was a short history - a condensed version of the war so to speak. Of course I was captivated - who wouldn't be. He brought to life the great issues of the era. What would come of slavery, secession, and the relationship between the federal state and the individual states and localities? He answered my youthful questions (probably framed differently than I would today) in a narrative style that enlivened the era - to say the least. I have since read just about everything he has written. My favorite: The Army of the Potomac Trilogy.

Bruce Catton passed away in 1978 - but we as scholars still have much to learn from him. Those who would weigh down their work (alliteration anyone?) with heavy-handed jargon that no one will ever read might have a look at Mr. Lincoln's Army - if only to have a reminder on hand that a historian can write a compelling...and yes, accessible story.

Catton was not perfect, and his work has certain limitations and flaws. But let's face it. His books are just plain good.

Peace,

Keith

Drew Gilpin Faust on Death in the Civil War

Greetings Cosmic Americans!

Since I talked about death in books yesterday...I thought I would mention another today (morbid? Perhaps...get over it). I am kind of on the fly...so I will make it short.

Want to learn all about 19th century Americans' ideas of a "good" death? Want to know what these same folks do when they are faced with the deaths of 620,000 young men who die far from home and family?

This week I re-read a mighty fine book: This Republic of Suffering: Death and the American Civil War. It is among the best from Drew Gilpin Faust, president of Harvard University, prominent Civil War historian, and a person with whom I sometimes agree.

Peace,

Keith

John Neff's Honoring the Civil War Dead - (his take on) the Problem With Reconciliation

Greetings Cosmic Americans!

And what a perfect morning it is - the sun is shining, the birds are chirping, and the helicopters are circling overhead. It is a beautiful day in Los Angeles.

Given my tendency to reflect on my work of the past several years, I thought it appropriate to discuss one of my favorite books on the issue of national reconciliation in the wake of civil war (sheesh - that would make a great book subtitle!).

John R. Neff is one of the few (and I mean few) who go against the grain by suggesting that all was not so benignly reconciliationist (for better or worse) during the post war decades - especially in terms of commemoration. Sure, as he admits, there were a great deal of spread-eagle, but alas, issue-free reconciliatory efforts/movements/gestures...or whatever you choose to call them...

...but what of those who persistently reminded citizens of the more troubling memories of the war years? What of those memories that did not fold neatly within the confines of the current understanding of reconciliation? Where do they fit in the commemorative ethos? Neff’s book, Honoring the Civil War Dead: Commemoration and the Problem of Reconciliation, examines those outside the reconciliation framework defined by most scholars. Basking in the light of the “cause victorious,” Neff argues, many of the Union veterans mourning their fallen comrades harbored bitter resentment toward their former enemies.

Reasoning that veterans could in no way imagine the memories of their fallen comrades apart from the contentions of war, he suggests their sentiments represent the key challenge to reconciliatory efforts in the late-nineteenth century. This compelling study does more to expose the lingering bitterness than any of its predecessors.

Yet it oversimplifies antagonisms by reinforcing a dichotomy of reconciled versus unreconciled veterans. Analyzing these individuals in terms of stark opposition – those who were committed to reconciliation and those who were not – may indeed be a dead end.

It is this over simplification that I find so troubling - and what I also find to be the hardest thing to overcome when considering this era. But riddle me this - Can one favor....even embrace reconciliation on antagonistic terms? It seems that yes indeed, one can - especially if you were a Civil War veteran.

I have fired more than one warning shot right here on Cosmic America - and have written a (soon to be published) book on the subject. So stay tuned...there will be more to follow.

Peace,

Keith

The Myth of the Lost Cause, 1865-1900 by Rollin G. Osterweis

Greetings Cosmic Americans!

Historians have a tendency to explain Confederate commemoration as if they were generally accepted across the nation – as if former Confederates ultimately won the war with the pen. In 1973, historian Rollin G. Osterweis attempted to explain this phenomenon. Osterweis analyzed images, literary and otherwise, of moonlight and magnolias, the “obliging old Uncle Remus,” and, the “good, gray Confederate veteran.” He observes a persistent sense of “southerness” despite a humiliating Confederate defeat and several years of infuriating Reconstruction politics. White southerners, Osterweis suggests, used these images a part of their efforts to romanticize and pay tribute to the antebellum South. He further notes, former Confederates clung fervently to a new American nationalism and, ironically, the righteous, fiercely sectional account of the Confederate States of America “[was] continually belied by the conduct of Southerners themselves.” In this way, veterans involved in Civil War commemorations seemingly connected the New South – characterized by “progress,” industry, and steadfast devotion to reunion – to a benign past that, while virtuous, inevitably gave way to modern America. In short, proponents of the New South who had shouldered muskets for the Confederacy looked to a promising future. They carefully recalled a few scattered memories that helped southerners come to terms with their greatest failure, retain a sense of regional dignity, and embrace a reunited nation.

Osterweis concludes that extensive (and nationwide) admiration of southern generalship, southern courage, and southern chivalry reinforced the myth of the superiority of southern armies in “everything except numbers and material,” thus lending credence to the Lost Cause rhetoric of the day. Ultimately, through vastly popular publications such as the Battles and Leaders series, Osterweis claims, “Yankeedom took to its heart the Lost Cause.” Northerners might have admired certain benign aspects of southern culture and even respected their former enemy’s fighting spirit. However, the implication embedded in many treatments on the Lost Cause – that former Confederates “won the war with the pen” – obscures the anxieties articulated by former Rebels clearly perceiving animosity all around them; that they in fact still fought a war with words.

Although I believe that Osterweis misses this glaring problem in postwar commemoration, the book is well worth reading. It is an important piece of the reconciliation story - one that is currently under revision. Sometimes there are a few copies available on Amazon - click HERE to grab one before they are all gone!

Peace,

Keith

Guns of the South - by Harry Turtledove

Greetings Cosmic Americans!

Need a distraction from reality? Troubled by things that actually took place? No problem. I present to you The Guns of the South by Harry Turtledove….the “master” of alternate history.

I have a thing or two to say about the book, but before I do that, I thought I might offer my take on alternate history – or if you rather…”counterfactual” history.

According to historian Mark Grimsley, there are roughly two kinds of counteractual history. First – for the basest of simpletons I suppose – we have the “beer and peanuts” counterfactual. These “what ifs,” such as “what if Stonewall Jackson had lived to fight at Gettysburg” generally make their appearance at various “buff” gatherings. Second, we have “counterfactual theory.” This theory, the brainchild (I believe) of Grimsley himself, couches counterfactuals in the high-toned language of academics. The objective: to derive an element of truth from what did happen by laboriously theorizing about what…ummmm….didn’t.

Frankly, I find both varieties equally absurd. I have always suggested to my students that counterfactual history has limited utility (apart from a few laughs) and analysis of the infinite “what ifs” of history bears little or no fruit. Why, I ask, should we dwell on what might have happened (something that we could never, ever, ever really know – ever…no matter what) when we still have trouble determining what actually did? Ughh.

Now that that is off my chest – on to Guns. The premise of this book: South African white supremacists travel back in time to supply the Confederate Army of Northern Virginia with AK-47s. Hi-jinx ensue. SPOILER ALERT: The Confederacy wins.

I have to admit that I was drawn in by Guns. Despite that fact that I generally cringe at the thought of counterfactual history, I thought this book was entertaining. Whatever…guilty as charged. I mean really…who would not be captivated by a heated presidential contest between rival factions supporting Nathan Bedford Forrest, the white supremacy candidate, and Robert E. Lee under the banner of…what…abolition??

You heard it right, friends. Old Marse Robert decides that emancipation is the ticket. As the story goes, relations with the South Africans quickly unravel once Lee and others get their hands on a few Civil War history books from the future that would have been. I won’t give away what happens next – you’ll want to read it for yourself. Let’s just say that apart from a few hotheads, the good citizens of the CSA come to their senses regarding the slavery issue.

I have to hand it to Turtledove. Instead of pandering to the – shall we say – extremist contingent of the modern neo-Confederacy, he deals candidly with the slavery issue. He writes of the complexities of secession and the Confederate war for independence with the underlying acknowledgment that slavery – in the words of Abraham Lincoln – had “something to do with the war.” Indeed, many of the central characters frankly admit that they had fought to maintain the institution.

But…I do see this book as part of an intriguing movement. Since the end of the war, there have been those who have worked tirelessly to distance iconic Confederate heroes from the fight to preserve slavery. Guns, in my estimation, is for the most part a continuation of that effort. Both Robert E. Lee and the main Confederate soldier character (Nate Caudell) change their tunes regarding slavery and begin to think in earnest about equality, the human condition, and inherent rights of all. This characterization undoubtedly pleases modern “heritage not hate” supporters of the Confederacy, who see the war as an effort to secure rights in the face of an oppressive government. These folks generally assume that slavery was already a dying institution in 1860, and would have passed into history on its own. The alternate Lee and Caudell fit perfectly into this scenario – and even accelerate the process.

Whether or not I am on board with Turtledove’s portrayal of a victorious Confederacy is of little consequence. You will have to judge for yourself – I will not quibble with counterfactuals because such arguments are ultimately of little value. And after all – this is not a book of history. But it is an entertaining look at a fictional country, and Turtledove uses actual people, places, and events to spin his yarn. I say what the hell – give The Guns of the South a go. It might make you mad, it might make you laugh, and who knows….it might even encourage you to have a look at the history of the Civil War – the real one, that is.

Peace,

Keith

Bitter Fruits of Bondage by Armstead Robinson

Greetings Cosmic Americans!

There is an interesting story behind the book, Bitter Fruits of Bondage: The Demise of Slavery and the Collapse of the Confederacy. Civil War scholar Armstead Robinson passed away in 1995. He had been working on this book for years but never completed it. Since his death, a number of scholars pieced together the manuscript and selected evidence and arguments (from diverse and often conflicting segments) to make this book the best representation of Robinson’s voice as possible.

By the time it was finally published in 2005, Robinson's book was far out of date, even though Edward L. Ayers’s jacket blurb says otherwise. This book is a child of the 1980s – when social historians were searching for the internal divisions that destroyed the Confederate States of America. Their efforts sought to disprove Lost Cause arguments suggesting northern superiority in men and material did the Confederacy in. Had Robinson published his book back then, it would have been a monument in the historiography. As it is now, it is a window into the past, but not useful to advance the understanding or challenge more recent scholarship on why the Confederates lost.

The point of this book is simple enough: The southern way of life was unable to provide the support necessary to sustain a war effort – specifically, slavery sapped nationalism from the very beginning.

Robinson highlights the class tensions between slaveholders and increasingly bitter yeomen and other nonslaveholders. This is a familiar tale (see also William Freehling’s The South vs. The South on internal dissension) of a rich man’s war and a poor man’s fight. Slaveholders duped everyone else into waging war, and it then became apparent (because of substitutes and 20 slave laws) that the nonslaveholders were fighting to maintain a system that only benefited rich whites – all the while the very same rich whites were weaseling their way out of the army.

Meanwhile, slaves were fleeing to Union lines in great numbers, denying the CSA their labor and handing it over to the US war effort. This served to exacerbate growing tensions between the white classes. Bread riots at home and huge desertion rates suggested that Confederate soldiers and civilians were not behind the war effort – particularly an effort conceived on the premises of a “slaveholders republic.”

Arguing that an internal class conflict eroded the white southern will to sustain a bid for independence is to confront directly the heritage of the Lost Cause Many things: the peculiar configuration of Confederate mobilization, the genesis of popular discontent with the war effort, the failure of agricultural adjustment, the birth of state rights ideology, the halting attempts by Jefferson Davis to cope with rampant internal dissention, the disintegration of Confederate society – all of these stemmed from the Confederacy’s failure to preserve stability on the home front. The Civil War south discovered that it could not sustain wartime slavery and simultaneously retain the allegiance of the nonslaveholding majority – and thus…the Confederacy was destroyed from within.

Now I disagree with this argument entirely – I believe that the overwhelming majority of white southerners supported the cause – despite the grumblings that take place when a society goes to war. They supported independence and slavery -  even the nonslaveholders had a stake in the system. But I suggest reading this book – it is a great time capsule of sorts. And although published early in the 21st century…it is a nice window into the historiography of the 1980s.

Peace,

Keith