November 11, 2011 - The following book reviews are courtesy of Michael Wolf, a retired dentist residing in Manhattan, who has had a life-long interest in American history with a particular focus, since 1995, on the Civil War. He serves as a docent at the New York Historical Society.
Atlanta
1864: Last Chance for the Confederacy
By
Richard M. McMurry
Unless you want
lots of detail about the five-month Atlanta Campaign of General William T.
Sherman’s Army of the Tennessee, this 190-page book is perfect for most Civil
War and general readers.
While it provides
sufficient basic information about command structure, troop strength, military
strategy and tactics, Richard McMurry refers to concurrent campaigns in other
areas, such as the Red River, the Shenandoah Valley, and the Overland Campaign.
He explains Grant’s grand strategy, and which parts succeeded (Sherman), and
which parts didn’t (most others). He discusses the dilemma faced by George B.
McClellan as the politically handicapped Democratic presidential nominee in
1864, and includes vignettes and even-handed analyses of Confederate commanders
and of Sherman’s theories of warfare..
Richard McMurry is
an articulate and persuasive defender of the theory (held by a substantial
minority, I’d say) that the Civil War was decided in the West. If you haven’t
read "The Fourth Battle of Winchester," you’re in for a treat. It’s
well-written, like everything he publishes, and is also a hoot. (How many Civil
War books can make that claim?)
In discussing
Sherman’s reputation as "usually regarded as one of the two or three best
generals of the Civil War," he notes that "Success and victory...are
like spackling paste. All three can cover up a multitude of mistakes and false
starts and hide errors." Though McMurry concedes that Sherman was
ultimately successful, he believes that "had he chosen to pursue aggressively
either of his opportunities" at Snake Creek Gap in early May or at
Jonesboro in late August, "he almost certainly would have broken
Secessionist power in the West for all time and hastened the end of the war by
many months."
McMurry believes
that General Joseph E. Johnston, the Confederate commander, played the weak
hand he was dealt fairly well, but offers a substantial list of maneuvers
Johnston could and should have made. Johnston’s defensive mindset reminds me of
Abba Eban’s assessment of the feckless Yasir Arafat: "He never misses an
opportunity to miss an opportunity."
McMurry’s
appraisal of the much-maligned General John Bell Hood includes the good and the
bad: the Hood who conducted the late fall campaigns in north Alabama and
central Tennessee "Was arguably a different man – bitter, frustrated,
disappointed and angry – than the officer who directed the last six weeks of
the Rebels’ efforts to hold Atlanta."
He saves his
harshest words for Jefferson Davis, alluding to "the putrid mess Davis
allowed to grow and fester in the western army." He quotes historian
Steven Woodworth, who termed the high command of the Army of Tennessee as
"a pit of vipers."
The maps are good,
and the accounts of the armies’ movements are easy to follow. For sprightly
writing, lucid analysis of military strategy and its importance, and how the
Atlanta Campaign related to political and military events of 1864, this book is
for you.
*******************************************
1861: The Civil
War Awakening
by Adam
Goodheart
Amid
the spate of sesquicentennial books, symposia, tours (and a Hollywood movie, The
Conspirators, which you should definitely see), this book stands out. It is
beautifully written, takes a fresh approach to describing the causes of the
Civil War and it earliest days, and provides information about the obscure and
the famous: from Charles Starr King of California to Abraham Lincoln.
The president’s
May, 1861 letter to the "regent captains" of San Marino, the
"longest-lived constitutional republic in the world" presaged the
Gettysburg Address, as did Lincoln’s July 4 message to the special session of
the Congress elected eight months earlier. As Mr. Goodheart points out in his
superb analysis of the latter document, "Although he might not have
scribbled his 1863 address on the back of an envelope, as legend would have it,
it should be no surprise that he wrote it fairly quickly. Lincoln had already
done the hard work of the Gettysburg Address, the heavy intellectual lifting,
in 1861. The two intervening years would go to pare away the nonessentials, to
sculpt 6,256 words of prose into 246 words of poetry."
Adam Goodheart
is a journalist (The Atlantic, the New York Times), and an
academic. He is the director of the Center For the Study of the American
Experience at Washington College on Maryland’s Eastern Shore.
His opening
chapter describes his discovery "in a crumbling plantation house...an
attic full of family papers spanning thirteen generations" of American
history. Among them was a packet of letters written in 1861 by "a career
officer in the U.S. Army stationed at a remote fort in the Indian Territory of
the far West. Writing to his wife and brother back East, the colonel agonized
over which side he should choose in the impending conflict. He was a Southerner
and a slave holder, yet could he betray the flag under which he had served ever
since he had first donned the scratchy gray uniform of a West Point cadet?...In
the end, the colonel chose to stand by his country."
"Reading
those letters, across the distance of almost a century and a half, gave me a
new appreciation of how history is decided not just on battlefields and in
cabinet meetings, but in individual hearts and minds." This book is about
these individuals: men and women, black and white, north and south: people you
know about, and people you’ve never heard of. Senator John J. Crittenden and
his failed compromise. Lucy Bagby, a slave who escaped to Cleveland, Ohio from
Wheeling, Virginia in 1860, and was not rescued by local abolitionists.
Just the opposite: the Cleveland Leader, "Ohio’s most radical
Republican daily," urged that she be sent back to slavery, and urged black
Ohioans not to attempt a rescue, to show that blacks and whites, free states
and slave states, could co-exist in one Union.
Among the threads
deftly woven through this narrative spanning less than a year are the stories
of the "contrabands." At first, they were three escaped slaves who
sought refuge in Fort Monroe, the Union bastion near Confederate-held Hampton,
Virginia. This trickle soon became a torrent of thousands, and General Benjamin
Butler and the Lincoln Adminstration had to decide how to deal with these
refugees. One of the delights of "1861" is the skillful depiction of
people and organizations: the odious Texan, Louis T. Wigfall; the brave Elmer
Ellsworth and his Fire Zouaves; the disciplined Wide-Awakes, campaigning for
Lincoln in 1860; the ill-fated Corwin Amendment, passed by both houses of
Congress, but ratified by only one state; the St. Louis German immigrants, and
many more.
Through all
these wonderful vignettes, Mr. Goodheart never loses sight of the war’s main
goal: a new birth of freedom. "Swept away forever would be the older
America, a nation stranded halfway between its love of freedom and its
accommodation of slavery, mired for decades in policies of appeasement and
compromise."
"One
person at a time, millions of Americans decided in 1861 – as their grandparents
had in 1776 – that it was worth risking everything, their lives and fortunes,
on their country...on a vision of what its future could be and what its past
had meant.
"Eighteen
sixty-one, like 1776, was – and still is – not just a year, but an idea." With
its fascinating attention to detail and its grand sweep of history, this book
is the story of those people and that idea.
***********************************************
American
Uprising:
The Untold Story of America’s Largest Slave Revolt.
by
Daniel Rasmussen
This is the
author’s first book, which grew out of his senior thesis at Harvard, where he
graduated in 2009. Mr. Rasmussen has written a page-turner, but he has
consulted numerous primary and secondary sources and has produced a highly
informative study of a little-known event in American history.
It’s not exactly
an untold story, as we can see from his many references. However, the slave
revolt of January, 1811 on Louisiana’s German Coast, only forty miles from New
Orleans, is about to become much better known. HarperCollins is the publisher,
and the book has been reviewed in the NY Times, the Wall Street Journal and
(briefly) in the New Yorker. Mr. Rasmussen has been on Book TV, where I
saw him and decided to buy his book.
Germans "had
originally settled the area before being overwhelmed" by French
immigrants. The sugar plantations lay between the Mississippi River and Lake
Ponchartrain to the north. The French planters became immensely rich from their
crop, which was totally dependent on slave labor. When slaves were "sold
down the river," they came here, to a more arduous and brutal existence
than they had known in the Upper South. Mr. Rasmussen describes the African
background of these slaves, many of whom had military experience and knew how
to use weapons. He describes the social structure of the planter and slave
societies, and the Haitian revolution a decade earlier, which many slaves knew
about.
The United States
purchased Louisiana from France in 1803. President Jefferson offered the
governorship to the Marquis de Lafayette and then to James Monroe, both of whom
declined. He then appointed William C.C. Claiborne, "a fellow Virginian
and political disciple distinctly lacking in qualifications." Claiborne,
who couldn’t even speak French, got off to a rocky start with the haughty
planters, but the "interim" governor stayed for eight years, and had
the last laugh.
All this history
is deftly described before Mr. Rasmussen gets to his subject. He said he wrote
this for a general audience; while this book is perfect for an AP history
class, Round Table readers will also find it useful and enjoyable. The author
hasn’t discovered a trunkful of letters in an attic ("Lincoln’s
Sanctuary" by Matthew Pinsker), but he has pored over documents, diaries,
and trial transcripts. This is not "history lite," by any means, but
an effective combination of a good read plus good scholarship.
Why is the revolt
so little known today? There certainly wasn’t a conspiracy to suppress it. When
a hundred heads of rebellious slaves were mounted on pikes along the road to
New Orleans, the planters were advertising their vengeance, not hiding it. New
York’s "slave conspiracy" of 1741 ("New York Burning, by Jill
Lepore, 2005), in which more people were executed than in the Salem witch
trials of 1692, is not well known, even in this city. Nat Turner’s 1831
rebellion in Southampton County, Virginia resulted in many whites killed (only
two planters were killed in the German Coast revolt), and a national
best-seller by William Styron placed Nat Turner in the national consciousness.
Gabriel Prosser’s aborted plot in Richmond in 1800 and Denmark Vesey’s aborted
plot in Charleston in 1822 (seems to happen every ten years or so), resulted in
executions of the ringleaders, and are fairly well-known today.
Mr. Rasmussen
describes the consequences of the revolt. The insular, aristocratic planter
society changed their tune in a hurry, welcoming rather than disdaining the
federal government.
"Unlike
Virginians after the Nat Turner uprising, the citizens of the Orleans Territory
held no debates about emancipation or colonization. Slavery was simply an
unquestionable fact of life, no more controversial than the use of
currency....Militarization happened quickly. The militia – once a largely
decorative organization – began to meet weekly to train and organize."
"The federal
government was receptive, sending troops, ships, and compensating planters for
their losses. The government paid $300 for each slave killed in the rebellion
and one-third of the appraised value of any property destroyed....The residents
of New Orleans could have asked for no better government than the American one
when it came to protections of slavery."
"Statehood
inaugurated a Deep South boom that lasted until the Civil War. New Orleans
became the second largest port – and largest slave market – in the United
States. The slave population of North America tripled between the American
revolution and 1820. The combined population of Louisiana (1812),
Mississippi(1817), and Alabama(1819) expanded from 400,000 in 1820 to 2.5
million in 1860."
Other historians
have written extensively about the growth of slavery and the southern economy,
and how it led to war in 1861. (Judging from his generalized overview of United
States territorial expansion and treatment of minorities, I suspect that the
author wanted to write a mini-history, but the publisher said, "You’ve
done a good job in 217 pages. Know when to stop." ) Mr. Rasmussen has
revealed a slice of American history, and I look forward to the next book in
his promising career.
**********************************************************
David Ruggles: A Radical Black
Abolitionist and
The Underground
Railroad in New York City
by
Graham Russell Gao Hodges
David Ruggles
(1810-1849) is barely remembered today, even among people familiar with the
pre-war abolition movement and the Underground Railroad in New York. This is
sad, because in his short life, suffering from chronic ill health (including
blindness) and racial oppression, he was an influential fighter. He was a
leader of New York’s black opposition to slavery and discrimination with his
pen, his printing press, and in the courts – usually before corrupt and
racially hostile judges.
Graham Hodges is a
professor of history at Colgate University. He has written and edited more than
a dozen books; this is one of the John Hope Franklin Series in African-American
History, published by the University of North Carolina Press (2010). Professor
Hodges, as one would expect from an academic, has drawn on varied sources, and
his book has copious end notes and good illustrations.
We have seen many
books, especially in this sesquicentennial year, about America on the eve of
the Civil War. We have read about New York City’s dependence on the cotton
trade, its warm hospitality to southerners (especially their money), and its
cold shoulder toward African-American civil rights. This book is about New York
on the afternoon before the Civil War, in the 1830s and early 1840s.
David Ruggles was
the first person in New York to provide shelter and guidance to the escaped
Maryland slave, Frederick Augustus Bailey, who soon re-invented himself as
Frederick Douglass. At 2 a.m. on Sept 3, 1838, Bailey arrived in New York He
had to beware of slave catchers, and saw in "every white man an enemy and
in every colored man cause for distrust." He spent the night sleeping
among barrels on the dock. "He had planned to find a black man named David
Ruggles, who headed the New York Committee of Vigilance, an organization famous
among enslaved people fleeing from their bondage." Bailey soon sent for
his fiancee, and they were married that month in Ruggles’ home at 36 Lispenard
Street (which remains in good condition). The couple moved to New Bedford, MA,
where he found work as a caulker, and changed his name, adopting Douglass from
Sir Walter Scott’s poem, "Lady of the Lake."
Historians may
have ignored Ruggles, but Douglass never forgot his benefactor. (W.E.B. Du Bois
doesn’t mention Ruggles in his list of "heroes of color" in his
classic work of 1903, The Souls of Black Folk). In his first
autobiography (1845), Douglass recalled Ruggles’ "vigilance, kindness, and
perseverance." His last autobiography (1882) again notes Ruggles’
contributions to Douglass and the cause of African-American freedom.
The strength of
this book is in its vivid description of the harsh conditions endured by people
of color every day, especially in the supposedly progressive states of New York
and Massachusetts. Professor Hodges writes, "Generally, New York City was
unsafe for blacks." In 1830, blacks numbered 14,000 in a population of
200,000. "Their percentage of the total had dropped sharply since the
initiation of gradual emancipation in 1799, largely because of declining economic
opportunity and worsening racism..." Few blacks could vote in New York
State because the revised constitution of 1821 imposed a $250 property
qualification for black voters. (This was sustained in an 1860 statewide
referendum by a vote of almost 2:1, with even more opposition in New York
City.) "Job discrimination was rampant...Blacks were not allowed to ride
on the city’s ubiquitous horse-drawn omnibuses, forcing them to walk
everywhere. There was no sanctuary in church, where Protestant denominations
routinely restricted blacks to ‘Negro pews’ far from the pulpit."
Beyond these
economic and social indignities lurked a far worse danger: slave-catchers and
kidnapers. "Enabled by sympathetic judges in New York, kidnapers regularly
came to the city and grabbed any black whose appearance resembled their
quarry." This "quarry" included children and free men and women.
Even blacks would turn in "their brethren." Ruggles fought long and
hard against the kidnappers, and won as many battles as he lost.
Professor Hodges
terms Ruggles "among the most militant" of the black abolitionists in
the ante-bellum period. He relates several instances where Ruggles was ejected
from segregated railroad trains in Massachusetts. On July 6, 1841, he was
traveling from New Bedford to Boston, when he refused to move to the
"colored" car. "After an argument...several white men dragged
Ruggles from the white car and threw him off the train...Angrily, Ruggles
brought suit against his assailants for assault and battery." He lost in court,
but his published report of the incident, Lynching In New Bedford,
"galvanized the anti-slavery movement around New England." There had
been reports of incidents over segregated seating for years, but it was Ruggles
who aroused public opinion. The Boston Times demanded that the judge in
Ruggles’ unsuccessful suit "have his ears cropped." Ruggles headed a
mass meeting in New Bedford in July, where William Lloyd Garrison offered a
resolution. Frederick Douglass led a procession of speakers at a Meeting of
Colored Citizens to protest Ruggles’ treatment by the railroad and the court.
Douglass learned first-hand of the segregated policy of the railroads when he
was beaten by a "whole posse of brakemen, baggagemen, &ct" for
refusing to sit in the Jim Crow car. In late September of 1841, the Secretary
of the Massachusetts Anti-Slavery Society, "a light-skinned black
woman...was dragged out of the ‘whites only’ car with a baby in her arms. The
child was badly injured, as was her husband, who tried to help her.
Over the next two
years, petitions to the legislature attacking the railroads’ policies finally
influenced the legislature. Though the state lawmakers did not take any real
action, threats of regulation meant that gradually the railroads dropped their
policies...Because of David Ruggles’ courageous example, blacks in
Massachusetts could, by late 1843, sit where they pleased on such common
carriers." (In 1854, future President Chester A. Arthur represented a
young black woman in her suit against a New York omnibus company which had
denied her equal access, and won. However, by 1860, most of New York’s
omnibuses were still segregated.)
These stories, and
the determination of Ruggles and others, are what kept me reading this book to
the end. It’s well-written, but I wish that Professor Hodges had better
narrative skills, like historians Doris Goodwin and David McCulloch. (I call
this a Dragnet book: "Just the facts, ma’am.") As a New
Yorker, this aspect of the city’s history has always drawn my interest. The casual
reader, with many books on the "to be read" shelf, might find this
biography, though set in turbulent times, less absorbing than I did.