Buncha Stuff

I’m finishing up Volume I of Lincoln’s Collected Works (there are 11 volumes in all, plus an index for the first nine).  Rather than post interesting tidbits as I found them, I’ve decided that after I finish each volume I’ll go back to all my little post-its and put up one article listing them.  So look for a summary post next week.

I haven’t forgotten the post on Thomas Jefferson, Robert E. Lee, and the characteristics of the Southern officer class that hindered its ability to lead effectively.  I’m sure the article, when written, will piss some folks off, and maybe that’s why I keep putting it off.  But all the books I’m consulting are still sitting in a stack on my office floor.

I need some info on Hugh Judson Kilpatrick.  Does anyone know how, when, and why he received his nickname, Kill Cavalry?  I’m not looking for opinion or generally accepted legend – in fact, if you give that to me in a comment, I’ll delete it.  I’m looking for documented evidence: when and where did the name first appear, and in what context?

My First Bull Run Field Guide for Civil War Times magazine should be showing up in subscriber’s mailboxes soon.  I’ll post some thoughts on the article once I receive my copy.

Civil War Sallie visited the Manassas National Battlefield Park a couple weekends ago for the anniversary of the battle, and wrote about it in multiple installments here.  Check it out.

Fredonia’s Cushings & Westfield’s Lincoln-Bedell Statues

I spent a week-long vacation with my family at Van Buren Point, outside Fredonia, New York, on Lake Erie.  Next door to my in-laws’ cottage is a lot that until a couple of years ago was home to “Cushing Cottage”, once owned by the Fredonia family that included Gettysburg martyr Alonzo and naval hero William B. Cushing.  In fact, we have an old photo of William’s daughters Marie and Katharine frolicking in the surf in their mid-calf length bathing suits right there off my wife’s family’s beach – though somewhat eroded, it is unmistakable.  Click the thumb for a larger image.

About 15 miles from Van Buren Point and pretty much on our way home is Westfield, home to Welch’s of grape juice and jelly fame – this area of western NY is known for grapes.  Westfield was the home of Grace Bedell, the little girl who encouraged then presidential candidate Abraham Lincoln to grow whiskers.  Lincoln stopped in Westfield on his roundabout journey to his inauguration and met Grace.  The moment has been commemorated by the town.  Here are some photos of the statues, an accompanying plaque, and an interpretive marker.  I used my cell phone, so excuse the quality.  Click on the thumbs for larger images.

   

Civil War Times – August 2009

Inside the August 2009 issue of Civil War Times:

An update on a West Virginia University graduate school project, overseen by Pete Carmichael, that will include a Podcast tour of the Shepherdstown battlefield.

An editorial by Gary Gallagher on two approaches to the study of the war, one dominated by “non-academic” and the other by academic historians.

A new feature on “Military Manuals of the Civil War”.  This first entry focuses on Dennis Hart Mahan’s “Outpost”.  (Frankly, I think far too much attention is given to the impact of Napoleon and Jomini on antebellum West Point cadets, and far too little to that of the man through whom their actions and writings were filtered.)

This issue’s Field Guide on Chattanooga.  I’m working on one on First Bull Run for an upcoming issue.

An article on nine-month Union enlistment strategy by William Marvel.

Gettysburg Ranger Eric Campbell writes on the destruction of the Union 3rd Corps at Gettysburg, and follows that up with a collection of letters by gunner Augustus Hesse of Bigelow’s 9th MA Battery and a two page spread of artillery artifacts.

An extract from Ron Soodalter’s book on the only American sea captain executed for transporting slaves, Hanging Captain Gordon.

Timothy B. Smith, author of Champion Hill: Decisive Battle for Vicksburg, takes a look at Confederate General William Loring after the battle.

This issue’s featured Lincoln image is Abe as 1865 gym teacher, complete with buzz-cut:

I Never Expected This

I’ve been keeping you up to date with the continuing saga of my copy of Michael Burlingame’s Abraham Lincoln: A Life.  I got a really good price on the two volume set, $83 from Amazon with free shipping, and I used a $50 gift certificate from my credit card points against that.  The book took a month and a half to arrive, and when it did, the spine cover of volume II had separated from the text block spine, so the book just falls open.  As Drew pointed out to me, that’s to be expected for a 1,000 page book, eventually, but for a new book it’s inexcusable.  Confused by Amazon’s statement on its site that exchange was not an option (the instructions say to return the book and reorder it, which would have lost me the significant discount I got on the price when I ordered it), I checked into getting the book repaired.  I was told by the nice folks at Mechling Bookbindery that it would cost about $40 for repair, which was more than the lost discount.  So I followed Amazon’s return instructions and found in the process that indeed, I could exchange the book for a new copy.  The new books would arrive within days, and I had 30 days to return my original order.

The new volumes arrived within a few (very few) days.  But guess what?  The same volume of the set had the same defect.  Drew tells me that this is a pretty consistent problem with this set.  So I fired off a note to Amazon, telling them how much it was going to cost me to get the book repaired.  Guess what?  They told me that I could return the book for full credit, or I could accept a $40 credit to the payment method I used to buy the book from them.  Whoda thunk?

Lincoln Stuff

I left a comment on this post on Civil War Memory, which prompted a comment on this post here, and as a result I’ve found another Lincoln blog called The Abraham Lincoln Observer.  I read a few of the articles and dig Mike Kienzler’s unpretentious style.  The blog gives a “Springfield-centric review of Lincoln in popular culture”.  Check it out – I’ve added it to the blogroll.

I received my copy of Burlingame’s Abraham Lincoln: A Life a couple weeks ago, but the spine on Volume II had come loose.  I debated fixing it myself, but decided to opt for Amazon’s surprisingly easy return/exchange option.  It took me a little while to figure it out, because at first it seemed that my only option was to return the book and re-order it, which would have cost me a few bucks because of a change in Amazon’s price.  But it turns out they’re sending me a new set and I have 30 days to return my other one.

UPDATE 3/10: I received my replacement volumes today – exact same problem, exact same volume.  Does anybody out there know how to get hold of Amazon to adress this issue?  I don’t want to keep returning these in the hopes of getting a good one.  I’m a wee bit ticked off.

The Man, The Myth, The Legend

This evening I took my son to the historic music hall of the Carnegie Library in nearby Carnegie, PA.  The occasion was a talk on Lincoln, from his nomination to his election, his journey to Washington and the eventual outbreak of the Rebellion.  While it’s a well known story, we were in attendance not for the message, but rather for the messenger.  NPS historian emeritus Ed Bearss kept a crowd of about 150, including a normally antsy 10 year old boy, enraptured for about an hour.  There’s nothing quite like an Ed Bearss presentation.  Afterwards, he was gracious enough to sign my three volume set of The Vicksburg Campaign, while having a nice conversation about mutual friends Teej Smith, Col. Jerry Wulf, and Dr. Charlie Smallwood (if any of you are reading this, Ed says “Hi!”).  Here’s a picture of The Great Man inscribing Volume I to me (this was taken with my phone, so excuse the quality):

“I Am the Biggest Coward in the World”

The details of the newspaper article posted here are nothing new.  The story of Scott’s exclamation, Lincoln’s challenge, and Scott’s response are well known.  Richardson’s interpetation of what the exchange showed is more in line with my own thoughts on the matter (to which I alluded here).  Probably the most quoted version of the incident is from Nicolay & Hay’s 10 volume Abraham Lincoln: A History (Vol. 4, pp 358-361):

A few days after the battle, in a conversation at the White House with several Illinois Members of the Congress, in the presence of the President and the Secretary of War, General Scott himself was so far nettled by the universal chagrin and fault-finding the he lost his temper and sought an entirely uncalled-for self-justification.  “Sir, I am the greatest coward in America,” he said.  “I will prove it.  I have fought this battle, sir, against my judgement; I think the President of the United States ought to remove me to-day for doing it.  As God is my judge, after my superiors had determined to fight it, I did all in my power to make the army efficient.  I deserve removal because I did not stand up, when my army was not in a condition for fighting, and resist it to the last.”  The President said, “Your conversation seems to imply that I forced you to fight this battle.”  General Scott then said, “I have never served a President who has been kinder to me than you have been.”  Representative William A. Richardson, who in a complaining speech in Congress related the scene, then drew the inference that Scott intended to pay a personal compliment to Mr. Lincoln, but that he did not mean to exonerate the cabinet; and when pressed by questions, further explained: “Let us have no misunderstanding about this matter.  My colleagues understood that I gave the language as near as I could.  Whether I have been correctly reported or not I do not know.  If I did not then make the correct statement, let me do it now.  I did not understand General Scott, nor did I mean so to be understood, as implying the the President had forced him to fight that battle.

I’m not so sure.  Lincoln’s former secretaries went on:

The incident illustrates how easily history may be perverted by hot-blooded criticism.  Scott’s irritation drove him to an inaccurate statement of events; Richardson’s partisanship warped Scott’s error to a still more unjustifiable deduction, and both reasoned from a changed condition of things.  Two weeks before, Scott was confident of victory, and Richardson chafing at military inaction.

Historical judgement of war is subject to an inflexible law, either very imperfectly understood or very constantly lost sight of.  Military writers love to fight over the campaigns of history exclusively by the rules of the professional chess-board, always subordinating, often totally ignoring, the element of politics.  This is a radical error.  Every war is begun, dominated, and ended by political considerations; without a nation, without a Government, without money or credit, without popular enthusiasm which furnishes volunteers, or public support which endures conscription, there could be no army and no war – neither beginning nor end of methodical hostilities.  War an politics, campaign and statecraft, are Siamese twins, inseparable and interdependent; and to talk of military operations without the direction and interference of an Administration is as absurd as to plan a campaign without recruits, pay, or rations.

Applied to the Bull Run campaign, this law of historical criticism analyzes and fixes the responsibilities of government and commanders with easy precision.  When Lincoln, on June 29, assembled his council of war, the commanders, as military experts, correctly decided that the existing armies – properly handled – could win a victory at Manassas and a victory at Winchester, at or near the same time.  General Scott correctly objected that these victories, if won, would not be decisive; and that in a military point of view it would be wiser to defer any offensive campaign until the following autumn.  Here the President and the Cabinet, as political experts, intervened, and on their part decided, correctly, that the public temper would not admit of such a delay.  Thus the Administration was responsible for the forward movement, Scott for the combined strategy of the two armies, McDowell for the conduct of the Bull Run battle, Patterson for the escape of Johnston, and the Fate for the panic; for the opposing forces were equally raw, equally undisciplined, and as a whole fought the battle with equal courage and gallantry.

But such an analysis of causes and such an apportionment of responsibilities could not be made by the public, or even by the best-informed individuals beyond Cabinet circles, in the first fortnight succeeding the Bull Run disaster.  All was confused rumor, blind inference, seething passion. That the public at large and the touch-and-go newspaper writers should indulge in harsh and hasty language is scarcely to be wondered at; but the unseemly and precipitate judgements and criticisms of those holding the rank of leadership in public affairs are less to be excused.  Men were not yet tempered to the fiery ordeal of revolution, and still thought and spoke under the strong impulse of personal prejudice, and with that untamed extravagence which made politics such a chaos in the preceding winter.

More on this later…probably.

General Scott and Bull Run – Who Is To Blame?

Scottish American Journal August 1, 1861

GENERAL SCOTT AND BULL RUN – WHO IS TO BLAME? – CURIOUS REVELATIONS

Immediately after the Bull Run disaster, Gen. Scott was universally condemned for sending forth the army numerically deficient and ill-provided with artillery.  General Scott has since explained his part in the transaction, making a dinner-table the opportunity to do so, and a New York newspaper editor, Mr. Raymond, the medium between him and the public.

On the Tuesday preceding the battle (say the New York Times), General Scott, at his own table, in the presence of his aids and a single guest (Mr. Raymond), discussed the whole subject of this war, and stated what his plan would be for bringing it to a close, if the management of it had been left in his hands.  The main object of the war, he said, was to bring nthe people of the rebellious States to feel the pressure of the Government; to compel them to return to their obedience and loyalty.  And this must be done with the least possible expenditure of life, compatible with the attainment of the object.  No Christian nation can be justified, he said, in waging war in such a way as shall destroy 501 lives, when the object of the war can be attained at a cost of 500.

If the matter had been left to him, he said, he would have commenced by a perfect blockade of every Southern port on the Atlantic and the Gulf.  Then he would have collected a large force at the Capital for defensive purposes, and another large one on the Mississippi for offensive operations.  The Summer months, during which it is madness to take troops south of St. Louis, should have been devoted to tactical instruction; and with the first frosts of Autumn he would have taken a column of 80,000 well-disciplined troops down the Mississippi, and taken every important point on that river, New Orleans included.  It could have been done, he said, with greater ease, with less loss of life, and with far more important results than would attend the marching of an army to Richmond.  At eight points the river would probably have been defended, and eight battles would have been necessary; but in every one of them success could have been made certain for us.  The Mississippi and the Atlantic once ours, the Southern states would have been compelled, by the natural and inevitable pressure of events, to seek, by a return to the Union, escape from the ruin that would speedily overwhelm them out of it.  “This,” said he, “was my plan.  But I am only a subordinate.  It is my business to give advice when it is asked, and to obey orders when they are given.  I shall do it.    There are gentlemen in the cabinet who know much more about war than I do, and who have far greater influence than I have in determining the plan of the campaign.  There never was a more just and upright man than the President – never one who desired more sincerely to promote the best interests of the country.  But there are men among his advisers who consult their own resentments far more than the dictates of wisdom and experience, and these men will probably decide the plan of the campaign.  I shall do, or attempt to do, whatever I am ordered to do.  But they must not hold me responsible.  If I am ordered to go to Richmond, I shall endeavor to do it.  But I know perfectly well that they have no conception of the difficulties we shall encounter.  I know the country – how admirably adapted it is to defense, and how resolutely and obstinately it will be defended.  I would like nothing better than to take Richmond; now that it has been disgraced by becoming the capital of the rebel Confederacy, I feel a resentment towards it, and should like nothing better than to scatter its Congress to the winds.  But I have lived long enough to know tha[t] human resentment is a very bad foundation for a public policy; and these gentlemen will live long enough to know it also.  I shall do what I am ordered.  I shall fight when and where I am commanded.  But if I am compelled to fight before I am ready, they shall not hold me responsible.  These gentlemen must take the responsibility of their acts,as I am willing to take that of mine.  But they must not throw their responsibility on my shoulders.”

In Congress a few days after the battle, Mr. Richardson “stood up” for General Scott.  He said: “General Scott was forced to fight this battle” (Bull Run); and then he proceeded to detail the following strange revelations:

My colleagues (Logan and Washburne) and myself were present with the President, Secretary of War and General Scott.  In the course of our conversation, Gen. Scott remarked, “I am the biggest coward in the world.”  I rose from my seat  “Stay,” said Gen. Scott; “I will prove it.  I have fought the battle against my judgement, and I think the President ought to remove me to-day for doing it.  As God is my judge,” he added, after an interval of silence, “I did all in my power to make the army efficient, and I deserve removal because I did not stand up when I could, and did not.”

Mr. Washburne – As my colleague has referred to Gen. Scott’s remarks, he might also allude to what the President said.

Mr. Richardson – I will do so.  “Your conversation implies,” said the President to Gen. Scott, “that I forced you to battle.”  To which Gen. Scott replied, “I have never served under a President who has been kinder to me than you have been.”  But Gen. Scott did not relieve the President from the fact of the latter having forced him to fight the battle.  Gen. Scott thus merely paid a compliment to the President personally.

[Photcopy courtesy of Terry Johnston]

{See also this post}

A Few Washington, DC Civil War Sites

A couple weeks ago my son received an invite to tour the White House, so on the spur of the moment we headed on down that way (see here).  We didn’t have any time to visit with any friends, but we did manage to squeeze in some sightseeing.  Click smaller images for great big giant ones.   First up was the Blair House, across Pennsylvania Ave from the White House:

This was the home of publisher Francis Preston Blair, Sr., adviser to Presidents back to Andrew Jackson, and father of Montgomery (Lincoln’s Postmaster General) and Frank Jr. (Union Major General who commanded a corps under Sherman during the March to the Sea and Beyond).  Frank Sr. was also the great-great-great grandfather of actor Montgomery Clift, who served in the Union Army in Raintree County:

The Clift-Blair relationship is murky – Clift’s mother claimed to be the illegitimate child of Montgomery’s son Woodbury, but it was never proven beyond a shadow.  Photos show a strong resemblance between an older, beat-up Clift and Great-Grandpa Montgomery Blair.  At least, I think so:

  

It was here in the Blair House that Colonel Robert E. Lee, prior to his resignation from the United States Army, was “felt out” for command of a Union army (not “the” army, as is commonly said, but as Lee himself said, the army that was to take the field – probably either Patterson’s or McDowell’s army) by Frank Sr.

Today, the complex of houses (four, I think) makes up the President’s guest house, used by visiting heads of state.

After that we took a walk around the White House…

…via the Treasury Building, behind which is this monument to Uncle Billy:

We took a long walk to the Mall and the Lincoln Memorial, which was the one place other than the White House my son wanted to see (there’s a good boy):

I’m always better for visiting the memorial.  This time I had a nice conversation with the ranger on duty, while my wife and son were in the gift shop. 

We returned to the White House via 17th St., and stopped briefly at F to take a picture of The Winder Building.  Today the building serves as the headquarters of the United States Trade Representative (USTR).  When it was built in 1848, at five stories it was the city’s first skyscraper.  In 1854, it was purchased by the Federal government, and during the war served as the headquarters of Winfield Scott, Henry Halleck, the Quartermaster General, the Army Ordnance Department, and the Bureau of Military Justice.  This is where the President lamented that “the bottom is out of the tub”, and where JAG Holt conducted the investigation into Lincoln’s assassination.

The Winder building plays a prominent role in the often used account of First Bull Run written fifty years after the battle by Peter Conover Hains, whose 30 pdr Parrott opened the fight.  At the beginning of the Cosmopolitan Magazine article Hains recounted that his June, 1861 West Point class mustered into Federal service “in the old Wilder [sic] Building, opposite the war department” on June 25th, 1861.  He wrote that there President Lincoln shook hands with each member of the class.  I’ve been annotating the article – very, very slowly – and have found a number of problems with it, including this otherwise innoccuous episode.  More on that later, but keep in mind that Cosmo published much of the writings of one Sally “LaSalle” Pickett.  The army also had its central signal station on the roof of the building:

I’m hoping to get down to Washington in the spring or summer, and hope to have a few days to spend sightseeing and visiting friends and e-quaintances.  So much to see, so little time.

Housekeeping

OK, a couple of things.  For one, I have another very long letter from T. J. Goree saved in my drafts.  Problem is, for some reason my visual editor is making a whole bunch of words run together every time I hit spell check or save.  I sent WordPress an email, but they haven’t responded, and I want to leave it there so they can see what I’m talking about.  Every time I have a problem it’s the first time they’ve seen it, despite the fact that there are millions of WordPress blogs.

Also, I’ve finished proofing a manuscript for an upcoming book on First Bull Run.  It was quite a learning experience on several levels, and I’m thankful to the publisher and author for the opportunity to contribute to the project.

I’ve determined that my recent purchase of the new two volume Lincoln biography by Michael Burlingame will be my last Lincoln purchase for a long while, unless I find something I just can’t pass up.  I’m creeping up on 200 AL books (if I haven’t topped it already), and that’s just inexcusable.

I’m still creeping along with the McDougall book Throes of Democracy.  It’s pretty good, but there’s a lot of stuff in there so it’s taking me awhile (I’m around 275 pages in with 335 to go).  After that, I think I’m going to do Vol. II of Freehling’s The Road to Disunion and then Burton’s The Age of Lincoln.  I need a better understanding of antebellum America.  I may throw some lighter reading in there as well.  All work and no play make Jack a dull boy.    I’m thinking of Heroes & Cowards – it may dovetail with a post I’m working on concerning Southern criticism of the character of Southern men.

My Six-Pack column for May’s America’s Civil War has been submitted, and I’ve seen a draft of the layout including the new graphics.  Interesting.

There is a possibility that I may be doing a tour of the First Bull Run battlefield this summer.  While I’ve participated in and even organized multi-day tours before, I’ve never actually conducted one.  I have turned down requests to do them, but I think now it’s time to bite the bullet if I get the chance.

Oh yeah: I’m all done posting the Bull Run OR’s from the Supplement.  Thanks again to Jonathan Soffe for sending those to me.  I wonder how long I should wait before asking him if he can send me the correspondence?