One of the things that I work hard on in all my classes, but especially in my Civil War course, is to show that history is far more complex than the version taught at an early age. I want my students to struggle with some of the distinctions and categories that they bring to the classroom. My two Civil War sections are working on finishing up essays which examine the movie Glory and an article on the 54th by historian, Donald Yacovone. Our discussion about the article was quite productive, but some of my students had a great deal of difficulty accepting the fact that the Lincoln administration refused to address the repeated calls for equal pay until the summer of 1864. By then the 54th Massachusetts – as well as other units – had engaged in acts of mutiny, which led to the execution of at least two soldiers. Especially difficult for my students was the reaction from within the black units from white officers who were known as staunch abolitionists. One in particular was Colonel James Montgomery of the 2nd South Carolina Volunteers and one-time brigade commander of the 54th. Consider the following paragraph from the article:
"You ought to be glad to pay for the privilege to fight, instead of squabbling about money," Montgomery exclaimed. He warned that the soldiers "refusal to accept what the government offered amounted to mutiny, "and mutiny is punishable with death." Ignoring the regiment's enviable reputation, Montgomery declared that the Fifty-fourth still had not proved that blacks could fight as well as whites. He confessed that black soldiers' "inherent" disadvantages left them with much to overcome. with words that enraged all who heard them, Montgomery declared, "You are a race of slaves. A few years ago your fathers worshipped snakes and crocodiles in Africa." The men of the Fifty-fourth listened to Montgomery berate their very appearance: "Your features partake of a beastly character…. Your features can be improved. Your beauty cannot recommend you. Your yellow faces are evidences of rasaclity. You should get rid of this bad blood," he recommended. "My advice to you is the lightest of you must marry the blackest women."
Part of the problem for my students is the difficulty in acknowledging the important distinction between race and slavery. We see this all the time when it comes to Lincoln where evidence of his racial outlook is taken as evidence of his position on the morality of slavery. Failure to acknowledge the distinction leads to all kinds of absurd conclusions surrounding Lincoln's motivation and handling of slavery during the Civil War. Republicans argued against slavery in a number of ways, but their position on the issue did not necessarily have anything to do with race or, more specifically, a belief in racial equality. In fact, many Republicans harbored deep-seated racial prejudices that surfaced at different times throughout the war.
Abolitionists, however, present us with a more difficult challenge since these are the people that we have been taught to believe transcended nineteenth-century racism. We emphasize William Lloyd Garrison, John Brown, Harriet Beecher Stowe, and others, but in focusing narrowly we fail to acknowledge the wide spectrum of belief regarding race. There are a number of ways to approach the complexity of the issue from analyzing place of origin, economic and social identification as well as religious affiliation. All of this, however, takes time and usually only leads to more questions and a muddier picture of the past.
These are crucial teaching moments. Much of our time as history teachers is spent trying to fill in a picture of the past that is meaningful and sufficiently complex. At the same time it is our job to identify and embrace by example those moments where answers are not forthcoming. I don't think we do enough of this in the classroom. As authority figures we are expected to have answers. Most of my students know when I do not have an answer for them. In response to a question I usually just stare blindly back at the student for a few awkward moments after which I take a moment to write the question down on my legal pad.
The lesson for the day: Questions and confusion matter as much, if not more, than answers.
Today I learned that my next publication will appear in the pages of the journal, The History Teacher, which is published quarterly by the Society for History Education. I've been reading the journal for a number of years now. Along with the OAH's Magazine of History it is one of the best sources for classroom activities as well as other issues related to history education. Over the summer I presented a paper at the first biennial meeting of the Society of Civil War Historians on how I use Ken Burns's documentary, The Civil War, in the classroom. I thought it would make for a decent essay for the journal and, fortunately, the editorial board agreed.
The latest issue is pretty bad. Poulter always jazzed up the military pieces with first-rate maps, but even they are missing in the latest issue. Now, their website is down.
Note: The website is back up as of 11/01/08.
I finally got my hands on a copy of Weary Clyburn’s pension application from the North Carolina Department of Archives and History in Raleigh. You may remember that over the summer I did a series of posts on this Confederate slave who was to be honored by a local SCV chapter for his “service” to the Confederacy. The posts generated a great deal of discussion surrounding my assertion that the SCV was distorting the past in order to ignore Clyburn’s status as a slave. The SCV held a ceremony in which they invited descendants of Clyburn and also received quite a bit of media attention.
Now that I’ve had a chance to peruse the pension file it is clear to me that the SCV did nothing less than butcher the history of the war and distort the complex relationship between master and slave. The certification letter from the pension board describes Clyburn as a “body guard” rather than a servant or slave. Later Clyburn is cited for carrying “his master out of the field of fire on his shoulder” and for “personal services for Robert E. Lee”, though the nature of that assistance is not discussed. The board also mentions his age and that he “has a wife and foolish boy to support[.]” I wonder if someone can explain that latter reference for me, though my wife just suggested that it must have something to do with his mental health.
On the actual application there is a very telling reference: “that his services were meritorious and faithful toward his master, and the cause of the Confederacy.” The fundamental problem with all of this is that Clyburn’s voice never appears. The documents provide us with an example of how a white-dominated government bureau handled a black man during the height of Jim Crow. Ultimately, these documents are not about Clyburn. Clyburn’s pension was issued owing to the assumption that he was a faithful assistant, which helped to reinforce a system of white supremacy.
Not once is Clyburn referenced for what he was – a slave. We are playing a dangerous game when we begin to treat the past in a way that serves our own narrow interests.