A Review of Lincoln (Finally!)

A few weeks ago, I finally had the chance to see Steven Spielberg's acclaimed film about our sixteenth President. Bloggers and academics, along with film critics, have already reviewed and analyzed Lincoln many times over, but like any good blogger, I thought I would offer my two cents. (See below for links to some of the reviews and commentary.) Before I saw the movie, a friend had asked me whether I would post a review on my blog. I wasn't sure. After leaving the theatre, however, I couldn't help but feel compelled to write down a few observations and impressions.

I once read that you are either a Civil War buff, or a Lincoln buff, but not both. I've never been a big Lincoln aficionado. That being said, I admire and respect Lincoln and count him among one of my favorite Presidents. I eagerly anticipated this film and was not disappointed. The movie offers what is probably the most realistic portrayal ever done of President Lincoln.  Daniel Day-Lewis, who just won a Golden Globe for his remarkable performance, shows the man as I imagined him to be from all the period descriptions and biographical accounts that I have read. His lankiness, high pitched voice, keen intellect, good-natured sense of humor, and political savvy were all there. We may never come this close to meeting a President who lived so long ago. The movie also delivers on other characters, like the radical and sharp-tongued Thaddeus Stevens (Tommy Lee Jones) and the cranky Edwin Stanton (Bruce McGill).

But Lincoln also does something more; Spielberg's movie magic proves that time travel is possible. The film transported me back to early 1865. I felt surrounded by the sights and sounds of the time. The scene of Lincoln traveling through the streets of Washington depicted the nation's capital as I've always pictured the city to be during the Civil War -- more rough and tumble, dirty, and unsophisticated than anything, and a far cry from today's mix of federal grandeur and urban hipness. The lighting of interiors, whether at the Executive Mansion, on the House floor, or in private homes or taverns, reminded me that life was a lot darker in the days before electricity. Spielberg also captured the complexity of the times. You feel the weight of the momentous issues facing Lincoln, Congress, and by extension, our country, as you watch the movie. Emerging from the multiplex into a suburban mall filled with teenyboppers sending text messages and the smells of fast food, I felt strangely disoriented, like I didn't belong. The film had altered my sense of time and place for two and a half hours. If I watch the movie again and again, it is in part because I want to go back and visit.

Some historians have taken Lincoln to task for failing to depict the entire story of emancipation. Kate Masur, for instance, wrote in the New York Times that "Mr. Spielberg’s 'Lincoln' helps perpetuate the notion that African Americans have offered little of substance to their own liberation." She also worried that the film "reinforces, even if inadvertently, the outdated assumption that white men are the primary movers of history and the main sources of social progress." Masur and other critics miss the point. Lincoln is not a movie or documentary about the entire history of emancipation in America, nor was it intended to be. Rather, it focuses on just one facet of that story--the passage of the Thirteenth Amendment by the U.S. House of Representatives and the role that Lincoln played in that momentous decision. 

Critics like Masur fail to understand the movie for another reason too. Recall that before the Civil War, the Supreme Court ruled that the U.S. Constitution protected slavery. Lincoln, a lawyer by profession, recognized the shaky legal foundations of the Emancipation Proclamation as a war measure. The document also had limited reach. The President knew that in a nation of laws built upon the Constitution, an amendment to our most sacred of secular texts was required to seal the fate of slavery once and for all. Abolitionists, contraband seeking refuge behind Union lines, emancipationist generals, prior congressional acts, and the liberating advance of the Federal armies all contributed significantly to the demise of slavery. But without a change to our most fundamental of laws, the future of emancipation was not yet secure. The Thirteenth Amendment, passed by a Congress that was anything but diverse, placed the legal nails in the coffin of slavery, and set in motion a constitutional revolution to guarantee equal rights under the law. The action was a necessary step in destroying the peculiar institution, and Lincoln makes this abundantly clear. (See Andy Hall's post on a masterful scene where Lincoln explains the legal necessity of the Thirteenth Amendment.)

Lincoln is a captivating and powerful film. Spielberg brings our sixteenth President to life on the big screen and tells a key part of the story on emancipation. Lincoln enables the audience to visit the past like no other film I have seen. We feel as though we are there as events are unfolding. I am sure that the film has inspired more than a few people to study the Civil War and Lincoln more closely. Lincoln will surely become a defining part of our sesquicentennial remembrance.  If you haven't yet seen the movie, you can't miss it.  And if you have already gone, I wouldn't be surprised to see you sitting there again, next to me.

Other Reviews and Commentary

Andy Hall
Keith Harris
Bernard Kempinski
Kevin Levin (Atlantic article synthesizing some posts from Kevin's blog)
Michael Lynch (here, here, here,and here)
John Rudy
Donald Shaffer
Harry Smeltzer

Cracking Down on Drinking in the Union Army Around Washington

A few of my recent posts have discussed the role that drinking played in the everyday lives of the soldiers encamped around Washington during the first winter of the war.  While whiskey and other intoxicating beverages helped to alleviate the boredom of camp life, the consumption of alcohol also led to trouble and disciplinary actions.  No less a figure that Gen. George B. McClellan, commander of the Army of the Potomac, weighed in on the subject at the start of February 1862. 

As part of his review of a court-martial involving a drunken solider in Gen. Joseph Hooker's Division, McClellan expressed his concern with the level of intoxication:

No one evil agent so much obstructs this army in its progress to that condition which will enable it to accomplish all that true soldiers can, as the degrading vice of drunkenness. It is the cause of by far the greater part of the disorders which are examined by courts-martial. It is impossible to estimate the benefits that would accrue to the service from the adoption of a resolution on the part of officers to set their men an example of total abstinence from intoxicating liquors. It would be worth 50,000 men to the armies of the United States. (Gen. Orders No. 40, Feb. 4, 1862.)

McClellan noted that he was not singling out Hooker's Division for criticism.  Rather, in examining the file, he saw the "evils of intemperance and the terrible consequences of it to the individual soldier."  (Gen. Orders No. 40.)  McClellan hoped that other divisions would also draw lessons from the court-martial and "resolve to contribute their exertions to the cure of this giant evil."  (Gen. Orders No. 40.)

As February got underway, the Union Army around Washington was taking various measures to prevent intoxication in the ranks, at least among enlisted men.  A captain had been stationed at the Long Bridge over the Potomac "to see that no spirituous liquors [were] either carried over that structure or down the river for troops."  (Phila. Press, Feb. 5, 1862.)  On February 4, the steamer Telegraph headed towards Budd's Ferry, Maryland with a cargo of twenty barrels of whiskey.  The army stopped the vessel and seized the liquor.  The newspaper reported, however, that "[o]fficers . . . are at liberty to claim any which may be intended for them, and must appear at the Provost Marshal's office for that purpose."  (Phila. Press, Feb. 5, 1862.) 

"Drunken Soldiers Tied Up for Fighting and Other Unruly Conduct," by A.R. Waud (courtesy of Library of Congress)

A little later in February, Owen McCarty, a grave digger known by the nickname "Old Mortality," was arrested for selling liquor to soldiers of the 1st Pennsylvania Reserves at Camp Pierpont in Langley, Virginia.  The offender "was seated high upon wagon, surrounded by a guard, and wore suspended from his neck a miniature head-board; on which was printed the words; 'Old Morality' digs soldiers' graves; and by selling whiskey, helps to fill them.'"  (Weekly Mariettian, Feb. 15, 1862.)  The wagon passed through Washington en route to the guard house and caused "considerable excitement among the pedestrians on the side walk."  (Weekly Mariettian, Feb. 15, 1862.)  Perhaps Old Morality would have been better off working in one of the numerous Washington saloons.

At the end of February, McClellan issued a general order appointing Andrew Porter as Provost Marshal General in the Army of the Potomac and establishing a department under his command.  The commanding general entrusted provost marshals with several duties related to his fight against intoxication, including "suppression of drunkenness, beyond the limits of the camps," "[s]uppression of . . . drinking-houses or bar-rooms," "regulations of . . . taverns," and "[e]nforcement of orders prohibiting the sale of intoxicating liquors, whether by tradesmen or sutlers."  (General Orders No. 60, Feb. 21, 1862.)  Despite McClellan's efforts, however, Union soldiers would continue to indulge their fancy for intoxicating liquors.  The fight against drunkenness was a hard one, and certainly not one that McClellan or any other general could ever completely win.

Sources
Army of the Potomac, General Orders and Index to General Orders, 1862 (1863);  David M. Delo, Peddlers and Post Traders: The Army Sutler on the Frontier (1998 ed.); George B. McClellan, Report on the Organization and Campaigns of the Army of the Potomac (1864); Philadelphia Press, Feb. 5, 1862; Weekly Mariettian, Feb. 15, 1862; Bell I. Wiley, The Life of Billy Yank (1983 ed.)

Military Justice at Camp Pierpont: The Court-Martial of Colonel Taggart

During the fall of 1861, Col. John H. Taggart, head of the 12th Pennsylvania Reserves, faced the serious charge of "conduct unbecoming an officer and a gentleman."  Taggart's court-martial got underway at Camp Pierpont on December 4, 1861.  Brig. Gen. E.O.C. Ord, who was Taggart's brigade commander, served as president of the military tribunal.  Taggart, confident that he had acted within the bounds of the law, pleaded "not guilty."  Meanwhile, the men of the 12th Pennsylvania waited anxiously for news about the fate of their commander.

Born in Georgetown, Maryland in 1821, Taggart moved with his widowed mother and sister to Philadelphia when he was eight.  The future colonel started his career in the newspaper business, first as a typesetter, and later as a reporter.  In 1860, Taggart bought a share of the Sunday Mercury.  When the Civil War erupted, he received a captain's commission and raised a militia company in Philadelphia known as the "Wayne Guards," which was accepted for service with the Pennsylvania Reserves.  Taggart took his men to an assembly point at Camp Curtin in Harrisburg in June.  While at camp, Taggart tried to discharge an enlisted man who was suffering from apparent seizures.  The disgruntled soldier lunged at Taggart with a knife, but the captain scared him away with a revolver.  The solider was later captured and sent home from the company.  The Pennsylvania Daily Telegraph added a dramatic flourish, describing the episode as a "Desperate Attempt to Assassinate an Officer."

Regimental flag of the 12th Pennsylvania Reserves (courtesy of ourancestry.com)

While at Camp Curtin, Taggart was elected as the colonel of the 12th Pennsylvania.  Following the Union defeat at First Bull Run, the 12th was dispatched to Tenallytown, D.C., where the regiment joined the rest of the Pennsylvania Reserves under Brig. Gen. George A. McCall in August.  The trip and subsequent stay in Tenallytown led to Taggart's encounter with military justice a few months later.

The charge against Taggart consisted of four specifications.  The first specification alleged that on August 11, Taggart "did shamefully beat, choke, and kick one Miner Moyer, a private in Company B. . . in a car on the Washington Branch of the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad." (Army of the Potomac, General Orders No. 55.)  The second specification likewise accused the colonel of "brutally" beating and threatening Private George Davis of Company C  on the same day "at a water station" on the Washington Branch.  (General Orders No. 55.)  According to the third specification, Taggart on August 30 used "blasphemous and threatening language towards one George M. LeBar, teamster of Company B" at Camp Tenally.  (General Orders No. 55.)  Finally, a fourth specification alleged that at Camp Tenally on September 27, Taggart "obtain[ed] money from the company officers of his regiment by false promises, and by agreeing to conditions with which he afterwards refused to comply."  (General Orders No. 55.)

Later in December, the court-martial found Taggart "not guilty" on all specifications and "honorably" acquitted him.  (General Orders, No. 55.)  The evidence had demonstrated that the charges were unfounded and that Taggart's actions were entirely justified under the circumstances.  In one instance, soldiers were discharging their weapons on the railroad cars while traveling from Baltimore to Washington, and "it was necessary to use violent measures to reduce them to obedience of orders."  (Sypher 127.)  As to another allegation, the tribunal deduced that "some five or six of the men left the ranks to enter an orchard, and when asked to return to their companies, refused to do so, and force was employed to maintain subordination."  (Sypher 127.)  The court-martial considered all of the accusations to be "frivolous and vexatious."  (General Orders No. 55.) 

Col. John H. Taggart after the war (courtesy of Historic LaMott, PA)

Federal commander George B. McClellan reviewed the record and weighed in on the affair.  As Little Mac's adjutant wrote on December 14:

The commanding general is surprised that the charge and specifications against Colonel Taggart were ever brought to trial, resting as they do upon evidence which is so complete a vindication of his conduct. It appears that the men whom, in the enforcement of good order and military discipline, he was obliged to punish, were contumacious and insubordinate—were, some of them, engaged in pillaging and pilfering, in which they persisted after admonition, and others were guilty of firing their guns in the cars to the terror of the passengers, contrary to positive orders. In order to reduce them to obedience it was necessary to act with promptitude and energy. They resisted his authority, and if much severer punishment had been necessary to restore order, it would have been fully justified.  (General Orders No. 55.)

McClellan confirmed the results of the court-martial.  Taggart was to "resume his sword and his duties."  (General Orders, No. 55.)

Word of Taggart's acquittal spread through Camp Pierpont.  According to the December 19 , 1861 edition of the Philadelphia Press, "[t]he men under his command, on being apprised of the fact, made the welkin ring with their plaudits, the sounds reverberating through the hills and valleys of the 'sacred soil' of Virginia." Moyer, Davis, and LeBar likely refrained from the celebration.

Not long after the verdict, Taggart led his men to victory at the Battle of Dranesville.  He continued with the 12th Pennsylvania throughout the Peninsula Campaign and resigned in July 1862.  After a stint as a war correspondent with the Philadelphia Inquirer, he was appointed as the chief preceptor of the "Free Military School for Applicants for the Command of Colored Troops" in Philadelphia.  The school successfully trained whites to serve as officers in the United States Colored Troops (U.S.C.T.).  In 1865, Taggart was appointed as the Collector of Internal Revenue for the First District of Pennsylvania.  After the war, he became a correspondent in Washington for several newspapers and went on to own the Philadelphia Sunday Morning Times (later Taggart's Times).  Taggart died in 1892.

Sources
Martin D. Hardin, History of the Twelfth Regiment Pennsylvania Reserve Volunteer Corps (1891); Pennsylvania Daily Telegraph (Harrisburg, Pa.), June 24, 1861; Philadelphia Press, Dec. 19, 1861; J.R. Sypher, History of the Pennsylvania Reserves (1865); U.S. Army of the Potomac, Index of General Orders 1861 (1862).

McDowell and Civilians in Northern Virginia: Trying to Do the Right Thing (Part I)

Last month I examined Confederate General P.G.T. Beauregard's June 1861 proclamation to Northern Virginians.  Attempting to rouse support among the local population, Beauregard accused Union soldiers of seeking "beauty and booty."  While Northern troops were undoubtedly stealing, expropriating, or otherwise destroying civilian property, the Union high command was all too aware that any such excesses would only antagonize the locals and make the Army's job that much more difficult.  The war was not likely going to last all that long, and when it came to Virginia's civilians, conciliation was preferred over vindictiveness.  This policy was put to the test in the days leading up to the Battle of First Bull Run.

On May 29, 1861, Brigadier General Irvin McDowell, commander of the Union Department of Northeastern Virginia, dashed off a communication to the Assistant Adjutant General at Army headquarters in Washington City.  He explained that "[t]here have been rumors of outrages committed by volunteers in Alexandria. Colonel Butterfield, of the Twelfth New York, has reported several cases of trespass, depredations, and attempts at burglary in his vicinity."  Reacting to these transgressions, McDowell opined that "we are not, theoretically speaking, at war with the State of Virginia, and we are not, here, in an enemy's country."  McDowell suggested that "[b]ecause the ordinary courts and officers of the State, against whose peace and dignity it is these acts have been committed, are not in the exercise of their functions, shall not these cases be punished, as similar ones were in Mexico, by military commission?"

General Irvin McDowell (courtesy of Wikipedia)

That same day, McDowell expressed concern over the economic losses being inflicted by the Union Army.  He told the Assistant Adjutant General that "[t]he troops are occupying houses in some cases, and fields, and cutting wood for fuel."  He asked, "[s]hall not rent and compensation be paid?" and recommended that "[i]f so, funds are needed for that purpose."

McDowell was particularly attentive to the sensitivities of at least one prominent local family.  On May 30, McDowell promised Confederate General Robert E. Lee's wife that the Union occupation of the Lee home, Arlington House, "has been done . . . with every regard to the preservation of the place."  He assured her that "it has been and will be my earnest endeavor to have all things so ordered that on your return you will find things as little disturbed as possible."  (This last promise seems a bit naive in hindsight, given that Arlington National Cemetery was established on Lee's property during the war.) 

Arlington House with group of Union soldiers gathered out front (courtesy of Wikipedia)

The commander soon adopted a policy to protect the pecuniary interests of civilians in his department.  On June 2, 1861, McDowell issued General Orders No. 4, in which he required brigade commanders and officers in charge of fortifications around Washington to send him as soon as practicable "[s]tatements of the amount, kind, and value of all private property taken and used for Government purposes, and of the damage done in any way to private property by reason of the occupation of this section of the country by the U. S. troops."  McDowell required that the statements, "as far as possible, give the value of the property taken or of the damage sustained, and the name or names of the owners thereof."  The order allowed citizens who suffered any such loss or damage to "make their claims upon the commanding officers of the troops by whom it was done, or in cases where these troops have moved away, upon the commander nearest them."  Brigade commanders were told to "make this order known to the inhabitants in their vicinity, to the end that all loss or damage may, as nearly as possible, be ascertained, whilst the troops are now here, and by whom or on whose account it has been occasioned, that justice may be done alike to the citizen and the Government."  Unlike the criteria for post-war compensation administered by the Southern Claims Commission, McDowell did not require proof that claimants were loyal to the Union.  The war was still too new, and a conciliationist policy would not allow the imposition of such legal hurdles.

McDowell, ever mindful of residents' civil liberties, issued General Orders No. 5 on June 14, 1861.  The general apparently operated under the assumption that at least some constitutional guarantees still applied to the inhabitants of a state in active rebellion against the United States.  The order prohibited unlawful arrests:

Unless under the special orders in each case of a commander of brigade or superior authority, it is forbidden to any officer of soldier within this department to arrest or attempt to arrest any citizen or citizens under the plea of their being secessionists, or for any cause whatsoever save that of being at the time in arms against the United States.

The order also sought to protect Northern Virginian civilians against unauthorized searches:

Nor will any officer or soldier without the like authority forcibly enter, search, or attempt to search any house or the premises of any peaceable resident or other persons not in arms against the United States. The military or police force will arrest any one found trespassing even on the premises of any citizen without the department.

As McDowell would soon discover, ensuring respect for local residents was easier said than done.  Not long after the announcement of General Orders No. 4, he was already reprimanding his subordinates for failure to enforce the order.  As Whitelaw Reid, editor of the New York Tribune, concluded, "[a]gainst such measures the volunteers, with loose ideas of discipline, or of the rights of non-combatants, but with a vague desire to see Virginia punished and humbled by the sufferings of war, revolted."  (Whitelaw Reid, Ohio in the War: Her Statesmen, Generals, and Soldiers, Vol. 1, pp. 664-65 (1895)).  Things would not get an easier as the Union Army took to the field in the middle of July 1861.

A Note on Sources
The full text of McDowell's communications and orders can be found in the Official Records, Series 1, Vol. 2, Part 1, pp. 653-55, 659; Series 1, Vol. 51, Part 1, p. 400.

How Reliable Are the Southern Claims Commission Records? Legal Truth and Historical Truth

Many books and articles that I have read about Virginian civilians during the Civil War cite documents from the files of the Southern Claims Commission ("SCC").  Congress established the SCC in 1871 to hear and decide claims of pro-Union Southerners for stores or supplies that had been taken or furnished for use by the U.S. Army during the Civil War.  The legislation established a board of three Commissioners of Claims, who were appointed by the President with the advice and consent of the Senate.  The Commissioners' ruling on each claim was to be presented to the U.S. House of Representatives, which voted on allowing the claim and appropriated funds for payment.  The House usually approved the Commissioners' decisions.  The workload of the Commissioners soon became overwhelming, and in 1872 Congress responded by authorizing the Commissioners to appoint "special commissioners . . . to administer oaths and affirmations, and to take the depositions of witnesses." (17 Stat. 97.)  The evidence gathered by the special commissioners was sent to the Commissioners in Washington, who made the ultimate recommendation to the House.  (A great history of the SCC can be found in this document from the National Park Service, the Virginia Genealogical Society, and the National Archives.) 

The materials assembled by the SCC naturally constitute a rich source of primary documentation on the life of Southern civilians during the war.  Authors frequently cite from the SCC files.  In particular, many of the accounts of voter intimidation in Virginia at the time of the ratification of the Ordinance of Secession come from the SCC records. Given the reliance by historians on these materials, how much credence we should place in the testimony of Southern claimants before the SCC?

In our legal system, judges (and juries) are charged with finding the "truth" and delivering justice. They examine and weigh evidence, apply the law to the facts, and reach a legal conclusion on issues such as guilt or negligence. Although not judges in the traditional sense, the SCC Commissioners performed a judicial function. They reviewed evidence, made findings of fact, and decided whether a claimant should be entitled as a matter of law to recover money from the Federal Government. For example, to prevail, a claimant was required to demonstrate loyalty to the Union. The Commissioners reviewed claimant and witness testimony, and made a determination as to the credibility of the claimant's assertion that he or she was a Union supporter during the war. Claimants also had to convince the Commissioners of the amount of property losses suffered at the hands of the Union military. The Commissioners' factual findings in relation to such issues amounted to an endorsement or rejection of the claimants' story. In essence, the SCC decision was designed to get to the "legal truth." But "legal truth" is not necessarily the same thing as "historical truth."

Readers are no doubt familiar with the reversal of criminal convictions based on newly discovered DNA evidence.  In these cases, a person was prosecuted and then convicted based on the weighing of insufficient or flawed evidence by a jury.  The verdict supposedly represented the "truth" - that the suspect committed the crime.  But the actual, historical truth turned out to be something quite different.  Pause also to think of wrongful convictions by rigged juries during the Jim Crow era.  The bottom line is that legal findings will not always coincide with reality.  Witnesses lie, juries may be prejudiced, and absolute certainty is not required for conviction.  The same applies in the realm of civil law.



Oath of Claimant George W. Steele, Fairfax County, VA (courtesy of footnote.com)

So what does this mean in the context of the SCC?  The Commissioners' rulings contain legal and factual findings, similar to judicial decisions.  A recommendation to grant compensation was based on a weighing of evidence, including claimant and witness depositions.  The law establishing the SCC required that the Commissioners find "satisfactory evidence of the justice and validity" of a claim in order to recommend compensation. (16 Stat. 524.)  An 1872 amendment imposed a criminal penalty on those who committed perjury before the Commissioners or special commissioners.  (17 Stat. 97.)  Commissioners were also empowered to hire agents to conduct investigations, procure evidence, secure the attendance of witnesses on behalf of the government, and conduct examinations and cross-examinations at hearings.  (17 Stat. 97.)  All of these elements helped to ensure that only valid claims were awarded.

Claims document of Edwin C. Fitzhugh of Fairfax County, VA showing that claimant and witnesses were sworn to tell the whole truth (courtesy of footnote.com)

In fact, the Commissioners appear to have applied relatively strict evidentiary standards (or a lot of blatant liars filed claims!). According to the St. Louis County Library, Southerners made 22,298 claims for property losses, totaling around $60,260,000. However, only 32 percent, or 7,092 claims, in the amount of about $4,640,000, were approved for settlement.  In Fairfax County alone, out of a total of 196 claims, only 7 percent of the total value of claims, or $68,000 of just over $1 million, was awarded.  (Charles V. Mauro, The Civil War in Fairfax County: Civilians and Soldiers, The History Press, 2006.) 



Cover of Summary Report for the Claim of John W. Lynch, Fairfax County, VA, submitted to Congress, and noting an allowance of $197.50.  Lynch was denied another $537.50 in alleged losses. (courtesy of footnote.com)


This brings us back to the original question about the reliability of the SCC documents.  As noted above, there will never be 100 percent certainty as to whether the legal truth equates with the historical truth.  Witnesses could have stretched the truth.  Other witnesses may have had fuzzy recollections due to the passage of time, or retained scant proof of property losses.  Some Commissioners may have been skeptical about allegedly pro-Union Southerners and disregarded credible testimony.  If the numbers tell us anything, the Commissioners may have been too exacting, and excluded Unionists.  Overall, however, the legal nature of the proceedings put more of a check on the facts than may exist in the case of a self-serving post-war memoir or a battle report written to justify erroneous tactical decisions.  But historians still have a duty to scrutinize the SCC files, like any other primary sources, and to find corroborating evidence wherever possible.  The closer we can get to ensuring that we measure the legal truth against the historical truth, the better.