Anne Sara Rubin is hard at work on a new digital project on Sherman’s March. I first heard about the project at last year’s SHA in New Orleans. It looks to be quite interesting.
I‘m not a fan of what I like to call “gotcha history”. It goes something like this. A book is marketed or reviewed based on the premise that its subject has been ignored or, even worse, suppressed for some nefarious reason. I sort of understand this first example from Carol Berkin who recently published Civil War Wives. The book is published by Knopf, which means that it will be widely available from most major book chains. The challenge for the author is to find a way to frame the book as offering something new among the vast array of Civil War books available. At HNN and with the title, “Why It’s Time to Write Wives into the Story of the Civil War”, Berkin suggests the following:
Thus the story of the civil war era comes down to us as a masculine portrait, its canvass filled with both powerful and ordinary men, free and slave, black and white.Yet, many of the Americans who endured the crises of secession, the brutalities and tragedies of warfare, the joy of success and the sorrow of defeat were wives, mothers, and daughters. For them, these experiences were not the same as for their husbands, fathers and brothers. If we are to understand the significance of the Civil War, if we are to measure its impact on the American psyche and its social landscape, we must listen to the voices of women as well as those of men. We must reconstruct the world of 19th century women with the same care and attention that we have reconstructed the world of men.
From a certain perspective no one can deny that our collective memory of the Civil War leans heavily to the masculine side. Hell, even most of the women I know who are interested in the Civil War are interested in battles and leaders and this is clearly the domain of men. On the other hand, Berkin is no doubt aware that over the past 15-20 years studies of women and gender during the Civil War have increased significantly. It is almost impossible to miss this ever-expanding literature and it has proven to be extremely helpful in uncovering aspects of the past that have for too long gone unstudied. It’s a clever hook, but not one that will resonate with people who have some understanding of recent Civil War historiography.
The other example is from our friend, Richard Williams, who back in 2007 reviewed two books for the Washington Times. Here is an excerpt of a post I wrote in response to his review. This is an example of the second type of gotcha history.
Today Richard Williams reviewed two recent releases that he believes force us to acknowledge that “Southerners have endured two never-ending accusations that, despite their inaccuracy, have made those from the region feel inferior because of their moral implications.” The first title is Bud Hall’s Den of Misery: Indiana’s Civil War Prison (Pelican Press) and the second is Complicity: How the North Promoted, Prolonged, and Profited from the Slave Trade (Ballantine Books)
Williams makes no attempt to analyze the arguments contained in these studies. Rather he is content to frame his comments around a rather vague assumption: “However, with the recent release of two books, the truth finally is available to all who are willing to examine the facts objectively. What makes these two books so compelling is that they were written by Northerners.” It’s hard to know whether Williams is speaking for himself or the general public when it comes to describing these books as uncovering some kind of long-forgotten truth that has been suspended (one assumes) by those with nefarious interests.
In the case of the first title Williams seems completely oblivious to the historiography of Civil War prisons – both North and South. Perhaps he should be reminded of a few titles that explore in detail the conditions in Northern prisons. They include the edited collection Civil War Prisons (Kent State Press) by William B. Hesseltine. The essays go back to the 1950′s and Hesseltine’s own scholarship on the subject dates to the 1930′s. In addition there is Portals to Hell by Lonnie Speer and the newly-released book While in the Hands of the Enemy by Charles W. Sanders, Jr. (LSU Press). It is disingenuous to make claims about an entire area of historiography without any apparent understanding of the relevant literature. The problem is that further reading would detract from Williams’s initial claim that Southerners (and I assume he means white Southerners) have been the victims of a national lie.
Williams applies the same level of analysis to Complicity and seems to revel in the author’s own conviction that they have discovered something new about the history of slavery in the North. He quotes the authors at length:
We have all grown up, attended schools, and worked in Northern states, from Maine to Maryland. We thought we knew our home. We thought we knew our country. We were wrong…. Slavery had long been identified in the national consciousness as a Southern institution. The time to bury that myth is overdue. Slavery is a story about America, all of America. Together, over the lives of millions of enslaved men and women, Northerners and Southerners shook hands and made a country.
These comments fit perfectly into the working assumptions of the reviewer and of course go unquestioned. There is little doubt that the general public assumes that slavery was specific to the South, but that does not in and of itself provide a sufficient reason to conclude that this is a subject that has gone unstudied. Williams emphasizes the book’s focus on New York City, but is he aware that one of the most comprehensive exhibits on the city’s connection to the “peculiar institution” recently opened at the New York Historical Society? There is even a wonderful companion book edited by Ira Berlin that includes a number of first-rate essays.
The final few sentences do not disappoint as the reviewer’s own prejudices shine forth: “Complicity is thoroughly researched, heavily footnoted and generously illustrated with dozens of photographs, drawing, maps, charts and documents. Unfortunately, the book has been largely ignored by many in academia and the mainstream media. But perhaps the rest of America will, like the authors, soon admit they were wrong about who should share the blame for slavery.” I assume that according to Williams the book has been ignored by academics because they wish to steer clear of the fact of Northern slavery. As I stand here typing this post I look to my left and notice at least four shelves of books about the history of slavery and race in the North. The books cover the colonial period through the twentieth century. All of them have been published in the last thirty years and most of them are authored by academic historians who teach in Northern schools.
Gotcha history is relatively harmless, but don’t be surprised if you are called out for doing a poor job of it.
Following up on my last post I thought I might share this little gem from a site called, Confederate Digest. A quick perusal of the sidebar reveals the typical neo-Confederate texts that are a mainstay for those who believe in the existence of large numbers of black Confederates and who also believe that their existence is being suppressed by various groups.
This particular blogger came across a very short news item from the June 15, 1900 issue of the New York Times. [My guess is that given the political convictions of this particular blogger, this is the only instance in which something written in the NYTs is taken at face value.] The blogger prefaced his find with the following:
Here’s another interesting article I’ve found in the archives of the New York Times which tells of a Black Confederate Veteran. One such article might be overlooked, but the large multitude of such accounts which are constantly being uncovered indicates that today’s “politically correct” view of the Confederacy may not be historically accurate.
Here is the account:
DALLAS, Tex., June 14 – Two negroes, Henson Williams and his son William, were shot dead from ambush in Brazos County, while they were plowing in a field. Officers were searching for a white man who is believed to have shot them. The elder Williams fought through the Civil War as a soldier and made such a good record that he was a full member of the Confederate Veterans’ camp at Milliken. The old white Confederate soldiers are enraged at the assassination and threaten vengeance on the assassin when captured.
That’s it. There is no attempt to find a service record for this individual. Supposedly, he was a “full member” of the SCV, which in and of itself, tells us nothing about his official capacity during the war. We don’t even know who wrote up this short description of the murder. Is it really a reflection of “political correctness” to question these stories and to expect at least an attempt at analysis? I think those people who constantly refer to political correctness as a reason to believe or deny a claim in history simply have no ability to engage in anything that remotely resembles historical analysis.
Yesterday I received a comment from a reader in response to one of my posts on black Confederates or what I am now calling, Confederate slaves. I am not highlighting this comment to necessarily embarrass this particular reader, but to point out the quality or level of sophistication of the vast majority of comments and emails that I receive from people who continue to push this line of thought. In this case the reader included a link to an image of two armed black men from the January 3, 1863 issue of Harper’s Weekly that you see here. The short editorial that accompanied the image includes the title, “Rebel Negro Pickets”, and reads as follows:
So much has been said about the wickedness of using the negroes on our side in the present war, that we have thought it worth while to reproduce on this page a sketch sent us from Fredericksburg by our artist, Mr. Theodore R. Davis, which is a faithful representation of what was seen by one of our officers through his field-glass, while on outpost duty at that place. As the picture shows, it represents two full-blooded negroes, fully armed, and serving as pickets in the rebel army. It has long been known to military men that the insurgents affect no scruples about the employment of their slaves in any capacity in which they may be found useful. Yet there are people here at the North who affect to be horrified at the enrollment of negroes into regiments. Let us hope that the President will not be deterred by any squeamish scruples of the kind from garrisoning the Southern forts with fighting men of any color that can be obtained.
Following the link, the commenter suggests simply that, “Black Confederate troops are a fact and not fiction….” Granted that this is an extreme example, but it is an excellent example of the biggest problem when it comes to this issue. There is a glaring inability on the part of many to engage in even the most rudimentary historical analysis. In this case there is no attempt to interpret the newspaper in which the image and commentary were included. No questions are asked about the source of the observation. How does the writer know that the two men were on picket duty? There is no evidence that Davis believed that what he saw were two black soldiers on picket duty. I have to assume that the author of the comment believes that in referring to the two black men as black Confederates he is implying their service as soldiers in the Confederate army. The problem is that even the commentary accompanying the image in Harper’s attempts to push black recruitment in the Union army based on the fact that Confederates were already utilizing their slave labor to support their military.
As serious historians we are supposed to ask questions of the available evidence. A healthy dose of skepticism is always necessary when wading through complex questions. However, in the case of black Confederates I am constantly amazed at the sloppiness that passes for serious thought. If it’s not the unquestioning acceptance of a supposed first-hand account it’s a postwar photograph of a Confederate veteran along with a black man who also happens to be wearing a uniform or a pension file that lists a black man as a member of a specific unit.
Finally, I find it strange and a reflection of just how distorted our memory of the Civil War has become that we would look at this particular image and be inclined to interpret the presence of blacks with the Confederate army as something positive. When I look at this image it reinforces the horror of slavery itself. Consider how many black families were split apart and then consider the number of slaves that were forced to travel with the army and engage in activities that put their own lives at risk in a cause that if successful would have guaranteed their future enslavement.
I talk quite a bit on this blog about why and how I teach American history on the high school level. At times I’ve engaged in some passionate debates about the proper content and the necessary skills that ought to be imparted to our students. As much as I value these exchanges and the issues they involve my first priority as a teacher has always been to engage each of my students as individuals. I try to get to know them as much as possible and I take a sincere interest in the development of each and every one. Inevitably we grow attached to those select few who make an impact on our lives in one way or the other. It’s those moments between classes, during office hours, in the cafeteria, and while playing music that we as teachers make the most meaningful connections. What I love most about teaching on the high school level is the way in which my students keep me young. I feed off their energy every day.
Last week I learned that one of my former students died. Austin Frazier was a junior at James Madison University where he studied psychology. I remember Austin as a bright-eyed young intellectual during his sophomore year. We spent quite a bit of time talking politics, but especially philosophy. He carried around a beat up copy of Friederich Nietzsche’s Thus Spake Zarathustra and freely shared passages with me as we waked the halls between classes. The book was always held with the cover on the outside and it sort of reminded me of how I used to hold my copy of Plato’s Republic in college. In his junior year Austin took my AP US History course and he gave me a run for my money. Not a day went by that I didn’t have to respond to a thoughtful question or reflection that connected the subject to some broader philosophical issue. Many of the latter discussions had to wait until office hours or after school, but they are some of my most cherished memories of Austin. I never lost sight of the fact that Austin’s energy and insatiable drive for knowledge and understanding came with a heavy price. Of course, I will never understand Austin’s private struggles but I tried my best to make sure that he was doing his best to take care of himself. Austin had wonderful friends and his teachers cared a great deal about his well-being. The best I could do was to be there and try to direct his energies. During his senior year Austin and I read through books by Spinoza, Leibniz, Kant, and Hegel. The readings were difficult and the meetings were intense.
I continued to worry about Austin after he graduated and did my best to keep in touch. The thought that Austin is no longer around is incredibly sad and my heart goes out to both his family and friends. It’s hard not to feel like a tiny piece of me died last week. You can read more about Austin from those that new him here and here (on Facebook).