Battles and Leaders: Old and New in Civil War Military History

What exactly is “new” about “the new Civil War history,” especially when it comes to studies of traditional topics such as battles and leaders? How much of the scholarship that challenges long-held concepts about the military conflict itself has filtered down to influence our understanding of why and how that war was waged? How much of what people like to celebrate as “new” is actually to be found in rereading Bruce Catton? Are military historians simply repackaging traditional themes in shiny new essays to attract the attention (and the dollars) of the general public? Or are they really offering new approaches and interpretations that promise to transform our understanding of the war? A sampling of three recent works—two collections of essays and a campaign study—offers us the opportunity to assess the current state of the field.

Lincoln’s Generals brings together five historians to discuss the relationship between Abraham Lincoln and five generals. Four of the essays concentrate on operations in the East, perpetuating a traditional imbalance in Civil War military studies—although the imbalance also brings to mind the observation that perhaps Union success in the West was due in part to its distance from Washington. The essays range from minor revisions of standard interpretations to fresh perspectives that engage the reader on new ground. Among the former is John Y. Simon’s discussion of the relationship of Lincoln and Grant, which bears a striking resemblance to the account presented by T. Harry Williams in Lincoln and His Generals (1952). Simon concentrates upon Grant’s tenure as general-in-chief, slighting the equally intriguing story of Lincoln’s role in Grant’s rise to the top spot. Following Williams, Simon argues that Lincoln retained the upper hand in the relationship, and at times kept the general on course. Yet civil-military relationships are a two-way street. Grant was far more aware of political realities than Simon concedes. He could not remove certain generals because of their political influence; in selecting corps and department commanders he had to seek presidential approval as a matter of procedure. What appears as hesitation or indecisiveness was actually an effort to work with the president to reconcile military and political priorities. Moreover, Grant’s conduct of operations was shaped in decisive ways by his awareness that it was a presidential election year. He had to achieve results in time to assist Lincoln’s bid for a second term. It is wise to heed the admonition of Catton, William McFeely, and others that as a general Grant practiced politics with poise and purpose.

The essays by Stephen Sears on George B. McClellan and Gabor Boritt on George G. Meade also cover familiar ground with far more assurance. Sears presents a succinct version of his indictment of Little Mac, found in longer form in two campaign studies, a biography, and a collection of wartime letters. “Once George McClellan formed his opinion about a subject or an individual, he seldom budged from it” (p. 5), Sears informs us: much the same can be said about his own evaluation of the Young Napoleon. Boritt’s essay on the Lincoln-Meade relationship deals solely with the Gettysburg campaign, finding that the general fell short of the president’s reasonable expectations to follow up his victory with a vigorous pursuit of Lee’s retreating columns. Had he extended his discussion in detail past July 1863, he might have seen that Lincoln as well as General-in-Chief Henry W. Halleck bore their share of responsibility for the troubled relationship they enjoyed with Meade.

The contributions of Michael Fellman and...