Book Reviews
The Abolitionists & the South,
1831-1861. By Stanley Harrold.
(Lexington:
The University of Kentucky Press, 1995.
x + 245p.; illustrations, notes, bibli-
ography, index. $29.95.)
Did the struggle to end slavery cause
the Civil War? Twentieth-century theories
of the war from Charles Beard's economic
interpretation to the currently fashion-
able cultural split between North and
South have relegated abolitionist radicals to
the sidelines as a causative factor in
the war and by implication questioned the ca-
pacity of radicals to bring about
significant change in society. To Stanley Harrold
(South Carolina State), however,
abolitionists should not be studied merely as ex-
emplars of aspects of northern culture
but instead as people who were genuinely
interested in the South's peculiar
institution and had an important role in destroy-
ing it.
In this, Harrold's second book on the
abolitionist movement, he argues in topi-
cally organized, highly analytic
chapters that abolitionists continued to be deeply
interested in the South, even after
their initial efforts to propagandize the region
in the 1830s failed. Their newspapers
and letters, he points out, continued to
carry news of antislavery agitators
(Cassius Clay, John Fee, Charles Torrey, and
others) in the border states as well as
indications of slave unrest. The complex
images created of these white and black
southern warriors against slavery encour-
aged emotional commitment by northern
abolitionists to their cause. While not
all factions of abolitionists favored
the same types of actions in the South to end
slavery, various groups did sponsor
Christian antislavery missions and churches,
slave liberating expeditions (long
before John Brown), and the formation of free
labor communities that would literally
export northern civilization to the South.
Abolitionists' experiences in such
enterprises shaped their commitment to and
understanding of abolition as much or
more than any worries they might have had
about social changes in the North. Their
aggressiveness forced moderate antislav-
ery supporters to constantly redefine
their commitment and also warned slave-
holders that the abolitionist threat was
"neither distant, inadvertent, nor insub-
stantial" (p. 153). Harrold even
suggests that the assumptions upon which recon-
struction of the South were based owed
something to the abolitionists, who fre-
quently continued their interest in the
South after the formal end of slavery.
Harrold's reinterpretation of the
abolitionists does not stand alone. It comple-
ments Herbert Aptheker's 1989 study, Abolitionism: A
Revolutionary
Movement, and recalls James L. Huston's significant 1990 article
in the Journal
of Southern History, "The Experiential Basis of the Northern
Antislavery
Impulse." The presence of a real
abolitionist threat in the southern border rein-
forces William Freehling's vision of a
divided South in The Road to Disunion
(1990). Clearly polarization,
confrontation, and ideological commitment are re-
ceiving new respect from Civil War
historians.
Yet a word of caution is necessary.
While abolitionist media contained news
about the South and slavery, they also
covered internal disputes within the move-
ment and discussions of all aspects of
reform, here and abroad. To demonstrate the
dominance of one theme over another
would seemingly require some form of con-
tent analysis and perhaps an analysis of
where antislavery societies used their lim-
196 OHIO HISTORY
ited financial resources. While
abolitionists contributed to antislavery missions
and efforts at slave liberation, one
must be struck by both the paucity and under-
funding of such efforts. Slave
liberators ended up dead or imprisoned. Antislavery
missions claimed to reach thousands but
with no independent confirmation of
their numbers. Free labor communities
were clearly unwelcome in the South and
did not last. Were such efforts truly
alarming to slaveholders or simply one piece
in a much larger picture of sectional
and intrasectional political confrontation?
Was not the presence of moderate
antislavery politicians holding positions of
power and respectability more crucial to
a credible antislavery threat? Harrold's
study is certainly thought-provoking and
his delineation of abolitionist efforts in
the South long overdue. His larger
thesis, however, needs further confirmation.
Ohio University Phyllis F. Field
Public Loyalties: The Public and
Private Life of Labor Leader John Mitchell. By
Craig Phelan. (Albany: State University
of New York Press, 1994. xii + 438p.;
notes, bibliography, index. $19.95.)
As Craig Phelan tells it, John
Mitchell's life story is the stuff of classical
tragedy. Born into the brutal world of
an Illinois mining town in 1870, orphaned
at age six, consigned to the pits at
twelve, Mitchell made his escape by working
his way up the bureaucracy of his union,
the United Mine Workers of America
(UMWA). He capped his rise in 1898, when
he was named union president. For
the next ten years, Mitchell used his
position to advance both his union and him-
self. But his efforts were undermined,
Phelan argues, by the narrowness of his vi-
sion and the failings of his character.
His faith in the possibilities of employer-
employee cooperation led him to undercut
the militancy of the UMWA's rank and
file, while his desire for social status
led him to identify himself with the capital-
ist class from which he was supposed to
wrench concessions.
For a period the combination worked.
Mitchell established trade agreements
with a number of the industry's major
producers, in the process bringing labor
peace to the vital anthracite fields of
northeastern Pennsylvania. Some of the na-
tion's most powerful businessmen,
particularly Mark Hanna, responded by invit-
ing Mitchell into their charmed circle.
But when employers turned against the
UMWA in the mid-1900s, Mitchell could
not bring himself to confront his
wealthy allies by unleashing the power
of his union. By the time Mitchell re-
signed the UMWA presidency in 1908, the
union was in full retreat, its trade
agreements in tatters, its membership
plummeting. And Mitchell himself was
shattered, his health destroyed by too
much work and too much drink.
This is a compelling story, well
researched and well told. By transforming
Mitchell's life into classical tragedy,
however, Phelan obscures some of the com-
plexity of turn-of-the-century class
relations. The pivotal problem is Phelan's de-
cision to treat Mitchell's status
seeking as a character flaw. That decision allows
Phelan to draw a sharp distinction
between the conservative labor leader and the
militant rank and file. And it suggests
that had the flaw not existed Mitchell and
the miners might have built a powerful,
class conscious union that could have led
the fight for "economic
justice" (p. 360).
Both points are problematic. Many
nineteenth century workers (particularly
craftsmen, which Anglo-American miners
still considered themselves to be) em-
braced bourgeois values and standards,
seeing in them the respectability that in-
Book Reviews 197
dustrialization had taken from their
labor. Such workers probably did not consider
Mitchell's dinners with Andrew Carnegie,
his stylish dress, and his European va-
cations as a sign of betrayal but as a
point of pride. Perhaps Mitchell should have
allied himself with the more militant
faction of the rank and file, as Phelan sug-
gests. But there is little reason to
believe that, had he done so, the UMWA would
have been more successful. On the
contrary, a more militant UMWA probably
would have been crushed by the combined
power of capital and the state, as were
those most class conscious of
Progressive era unions, the Western Federation of
Miners and its successor, the Industrial
Workers of the World.
Downplaying the importance of Mitchell's
character flaws does not make this
story any less tragic. It simply roots
the tragedy in a different, more modern, dy-
namic. In this version, Mitchell became
a victim not of his own failings but of an
industrial system that could not abide a
union leader who wanted nothing more
than a share of the system's bounty.
University of Massachusetts-Amherst Kevin Boyle
The Ambassadors and America's Soviet
Policy. By David Mayers. (New York:
Oxford University Press, 1995. xiv +
335p.; illustrations, notes, bibliography,
index. $35.00.)
David Mayers offers the first
comprehensive assessment of the history of
American ambassadors to Russia and the
Soviet Union. Thoroughly researched
and competently written, this study will
be the place to begin for anyone inter-
ested in the range and quality of
American diplomacy in Moscow.
Mayers actually begins in St.
Petersburg, offering two chapters on American
envoys to tsarist Russia. Given the
spoils system and the absence of a profes-
sional foreign service, it is no
surprise that the performance of the early ambas-
sadors was uneven. For every successful
mission, say of a John Quincy Adams
(1809-1814), there was a compensating
disaster, say of a Simon Cameron, who
lasted only a few months in 1862.
Outraged by the Bolshevik Revolution,
Washington did not condescend to send
an ambassador from 1917 to 1933. After
Franklin Roosevelt restored diplomatic
relations, William Bullitt arrived,
filled with high hopes, to open the first
American mission to the USSR. He lasted
less then three years before leaving dis-
illusioned, a reaction not uncommon
among American envoys.
Operating under the shadow of purge
trials and collectivization, American
diplomats did the best they could in the
1930s, according to Mayers. Even the no-
torious Joseph Davies, for whom Mayers
offers a cautious, partial rehabilitation,
was "a more complicated figure than
many people have assumed" (p. 109). Mayers
is on strong ground in arguing that
Davies's worst excesses were a result of his ef-
forts to assist the Roosevelt
Administration in promoting the "Uncle Joe" image
of Washington's World War II ally.
Despite the change toward a
thoroughgoing demonization of the USSR with the
onset of the Cold War, Mayers credits
the Moscow embassy with remaining sober.
Given the exhaustion and deprivations
suffered in the death struggle with Nazism,
the postwar "Soviet threat"
was an ideological rather than a direct military one.
Through his research in diplomatic
records, secondary literature and interviews,
Mayers reconstructs each ambassadorship.
He offers reasoned assessments of the
major issues, the quality of
understanding and advice rendered from Moscow, as
198 OHIO HISTORY
well as its reception in Washington.
Sometimes the communication was good, as
between W. Averell Harriman and Harry S.
Truman. At other times it was bad, as
between Charles Bohlen and John Foster
Dulles.
Mayers offers sound, if familiar,
assessments of Bullitt, Bohlen, Harriman, Loy
Henderson and George F. Kennan, all of
whom have been the focus of previous bi-
ographical treatment. His book makes a
greater contribution by illuminating the
service of lesser known but often more
effective envoys such as Llewellyn
Thompson. Based partly on the good
working relationship he established with
Nikita S. Khrushchev, Thompson offered
advice well grounded in Soviet realities
to both Presidents Eisenhower and
Kennedy, the latter of which praised Thompson
for his sharp assessment of Soviet
intentions in the Cuban Missile Crisis.
Mayers rounds out his study with
(through no fault of his own) the less well-
documented record of more recent
ambassadors to the USSR. None of these men-
Malcolm Toon, Thomas Watson, Arthur
Hartman, Jack Matlock and Robert
Strauss-was particularly distinguished.
Although the case of the former IBM
chairman Watson, who was out of touch in
Moscow, suggests the perils of amateur
diplomacy, Mayers warns against drawing
sweeping conclusions. He argues that
some of the nation's most highly skilled
professional diplomats, including
Kennan, were ineffective ambassadors,
whereas Harriman, a prominent Democrat
and FDR political appointee, proved
first-rate.
Mayers bases his generally persuasive
evaluations of the American envoys on
appropriate criteria, including their
competence in Russian language, knowledge
of Russian and Soviet history,
toughness, and ability to comprehend and abide
"the weirdness of Soviet life"
(p. 232). In an otherwise comprehensive analysis,
Mayers pays too little attention to
cultural diplomacy, which played an increas-
ingly important role in U.S.-Soviet
relations. Mayers lacked much of a historiog-
raphy to play off of on this subject,
yet the careers of certain ambassadors,
William Standley and Thompson among
them, are instructive on the role of cul-
tural exchange in East-West relations.
In the final analysis Mayers is
persuasive in arguing that Washington's ambas-
sadors should be evaluated not on the
basis of their predictive powers, but rather
on their ability to discern the
essential flow of events in an unpredictable envi-
ronment.
University of Akron Walter L.
Hixson
"Without Blare of
Trumpets"; Walter Drew, the National Erectors' Association,
and the Open Shop Movement, 1903-57. By Sidney Fine. (Ann Arbor: The
University of Michigan Press, 1995. viii
+ 384p.; illustrations, notes, bibliog-
raphy, index. $49.50.)
In the past decade, the New Labor
History has been joined by a renewed interest
in the history of employers and
personnel management, an approach reflected in
studies by Sanford Jacoby, Howell John
Harris, or Sarah Lyons Watts. To this
field, Sidney Fine has now contributed
an exhaustively researched and thoroughly
detailed history of the National
Erectors' Association and its long-time commis-
sioner Walter Drew.
Fine asserts that "from 1906 until
the New Deal, [the NEA] was, most conspicu-
ously, the implacable foe of structural
iron workers" (p. vii). Where usually David
Parry and the National Association of
Manufacturers have been in the spotlight of
Book Reviews 199
historians' attention, Fine claims that
the NEA was especially important, because
it involved both the steel and
construction industries. As a result of this position,
Fine argues, Walter Drew and the NEA
"played a major role in seeking to spread the
open shop . . . to other unionized
sectors of the economy" (p. vii-viii).
The nature of the construction industry
provided the building trades unions with
a uniquely powerful position. Most
contractors found it easier to deal with the
union, pay the union wage scale, and
thereby avoid costly delays, than to insist
on an open shop. Unions, in turn, often
promised not to provide workers to con-
tractors who were not member of a
specified contractors association or outside the
trade jurisdiction.
Walter Drew and the NEA feared that the
International Association of Bridge and
Structural Iron Workers (IABSIW) might
use its leverage to force the unionization
of other branches of the steel industry
and other sectors of the economy. To un-
dermine the position of the IABSIW, the
NEA, for example, had members in the
construction industry place open shop
clauses into their contracts with subcon-
tractors, or deny steel to companies
that did not abide by the open shop.
Although the NEA certainly was an
important player in the open shop move-
ment, Fine also points out that "if
the NEA goal was the actual destruction of the
IABSIW, it conspicuously failed to
achieve that objective" (p. 79). Union mem-
bership dropped shortly in the 1910s,
but picked up again during World War I and
then during the building boom of the
1920s.
During the boom of the 1920s, NEA
companies were ultimately more interested
in doing business than in pursuing the
open shop agenda of Walter Drew.
"Fearing strikes in one city if
they permitted open shop erection in another city,"
Fine points out, "contractors
arranged for the erection on a closed shop basis for
all the steel they purchased" (p.
237), among them the largest NEA members. In
addition, this provided larger companies
with a competitive edge, as "local NEA
firms that fabricated structured steel
to be erected by open shop workers found it
difficult to compete with general
contractors who obtained their steel from major
fabricators like [NEA members] American
Bridge or McClintic-Marshall" (p. 237).
The consistent refusal to enforce the
open shop, when it was of advantage to deal
with the union and, eventually, New Deal
labor legislation put an end to the efforts
of the NEA.
The title, indicating that the study
covers the years 1906 to 1957, is somewhat
misleading. The focus is mostly on the
years until 1933. The years from 1933 to
1957 are treated only in the last, short
chapter. But this is a fairly minor criticism
of an overall fine monograph that both
labor and business historians will be in-
terested in reading.
University of Cincinnati Thomas Winter
Mother-Work: Women, Child Welfare,
and the State, 1890-1930. By Molly
Ladd-
Taylor. (Champaign: The University of
Illinois Press, 1994. x + 211p.; notes,
index. $39.95 cloth; $14.95 paper.)
Mother-Work is a significant contribution to the burgeoning
literature describ-
ing female activism and the early
welfare state in America. Focusing on the
rhetoric of maternalism and the
realities of motherhood, Molly Ladd-Taylor dis-
sembles and weaves the varied strands of
maternal experience across class and eth-
nic divides, voluntary organizations for
private child care study and social action,
200 OHIO HISTORY
the professionalization of reform,
policy making and administration, and the im-
pact of maternal and child care programs
on bureaucratic dispenser and welfare re-
cipients. Associational records,
Childrens' Bureau collections, and federal, state
and local data provide the materials for
this rich, nuanced and often ironic survey
of the rise and fall of maternalistic
ideology and the politics of motherhood.
Ladd-Taylor's examination of the
Mothers' Congress provides a much-needed
view of the women who provided the
grassroots pressure for political responses to
their needs, as well as the voluntary
support of programs in their communities
when legislation was implemented. Her
focus on reformers and especially on the
staff of the Children's Bureau analyzes
the cross-class successes and failures of
their policies. Those that stressed
maternal and child care education, later embod-
ied along with minimal medical care in
the Sheppard-Towner Act of 1921, demon-
strated the common needs and concerns
that united women. The failure to gain
working-class support for laws and later
a Child Labor Amendment to abolish the
practice illustrated the inability of
educated, middle and upper class reformers to
understand the gap between the
imperatives of family income and the ideal of the
sole male breadwinner. In similar
fashion, Mothers' Pensions (later Aid to
Dependent Children) embodied the ideal
to universal home-bound motherhood but
reverted to means testing as imperious
social case workers imposed biased, con-
servative definitions of
"worthy" when dispensing meager welfare allocations to
widows.
The author is especially incisive in
explaining the decline of the womans'
movement and maternal politics after
suffrage. She agrees that decline began in
mid-1920 and that the conservative
backlash and the failure of a "woman's vote"
to materialize were major causes. She
expands her argument to include the interre-
lationships of these factors with the
de-politicizing of maternalism. Attacks on
female activism led voluntary
associations like the PTA to renounce its social
agenda and concentrate on membership and
organizational growth. Both policy
successes and opposition turned
reformers into professional bureaucrats defending
hard-won careers in addition to causes.
Feminists played a role in undermining
motherhood by emphasizing political and
economic rights and by denouncing
women's financial dependence. And
finally, behavioral psychologists attacked
once unquestioned assumptions concerning
mother-child emotional bonds and
care, turning "mother-love"
into maternal smothering and coddling. With the cer-
tainty of maternal ideology jettisoned,
the very foundation of political mother-
hood crumbled.
Ladd-Taylor looks ahead briefly to
resurrected features of welfare programs in
New Deal legislation. Many of the
advocates were familiar figures from earlier
battles but others were more recent
proponents. In their new form, health, welfare
and child labor features were
transformed as well. Here is an area that calls for fur-
ther study. But for the decades
preceding the Social Security Act and the Fair Labor
Standards Act, Ladd-Taylor had done a
masterful job placing women and the incipi-
ent welfare state-with all their
complexities-in clear relief.
Case Western Reserve University Lois Scharf
Rutherford B. Hayes: Warrior &
President. By Ari Hoogenboom.
(Lawrence:
University Press of Kansas, 1995. xii +
626p.; illustrations, notes, note on
sources, index. $45.00.)
Book Reviews 201
It may surprise some, perhaps, to be
made aware that Hayes has received the best
of remembrance, and first of all because
his last home, in Fremont, Ohio, was kept
up, in his time and beyond to the very
present for the use of thoughtful historians
and researchers. They included Charles
B. Williams's The Life of Rutherford
Birchard Haves (1928), and the fine study of Hayes by the biographer
of John P.
Altgeld (1954), Harry Barnard. The dean
of American military history in his time,
T. Harry Williams, contributed Hayes
of the Twenty-Third (1965), which merits
anybody's reading.
Why, then, another full-sized biography?
The answer lies in the present state of
American chronicles and life, which have
suffered by bad reading and special inter-
est. We need to welcome all new efforts
which base their focus on sound papers
and a respect for the continuity of
American life.
To be sure, Hayes was a central figure
in the Disputed Election of 1876--an
event which could have touched off a
continuation of the Civil War itself. But this
extraordinary event is too often passed
off as a contrivance of tricky politicians
who finally give the election to Hayes
over Samuel T. Tilden by one-repeat,
one-electoral vote.
Once, the glib bundling in history
classes of Hayes-Garfield-Arthur-Harrison did
no particular harm. There were
specialists of post-Civil War political history to
explain our continuing national
concerns. But since the 1960s frauds who pre-
tended to be witty and knowing by
referring to Millard Fillmore as a joke among
historical jokes, it becomes necessary
to save our imperial subject from know-
nothings. "Presentism" has
been a wounding factor in our educational crisis, our
blurred view of the past. The new
biography of Hayes helps, by humanizing once
more the actors in the Hayes saga.
For one thing, Hayes can surprise new
students of our time by the variety of his
positive qualities and achievements.
Some critics argued that he was handed his
opportunities, rather than won them. But
so were all pioneers of the Ohio frontier
who made less of those same
opportunities. Hayes was favored by a fruitful family
spread about in New England and moving
westward to Ohio and further. His
mother Sophia, left a widow, was
supported by her materially competent and ideal-
istic brother Sardis Birchard, who kept
the family upright, and advancing through
sorrowful sicknesses and deaths. He made
young Hayes a winning, able, and
thoughtful youth who starred at Kenyon
College in Ohio, and at Harvard.
As a young lawyer in Cincinnati he
achieved visibility with his conservative
principles of law and order, though he
resisted religious conversion as a matter of
his sincere feelings. He defended
criminals and runaways, and favored antislavery,
though not abolitionism. Love of family
and friends was to him primary in life.
Made City Solicitor, he expanded his
social principles to further Cincinnati's
growth. As he wrote his uncle: "I
believe I know what true gentility, genuine
good breeding, is. Let me but live out
what is within, and . .. little of what is im-
portant would be found wanting."
What was important included the Ohio and
West Virginia area which, if lost by
secessionist war, would practically
ensure an enduring Confederacy and enduring
slavery labor system. Hayes, with so
many others loyal to the Union, had little
experience involving guns and fighting
beyond hunting. His qualities earned
him-as it did others like young James A.
Garfield-volunteer military rank in the
forces President Lincoln drew upon to
defend this crucial area. Young Major Hayes
dedicated himself to learning military
principles. Though never losing sight of
family, books, and the state of the
nation, he rigidly trained his 3,000 volunteer
soldiers-and himself as officer-to learn
an absolute respect for orders, whether
202 OHIO HISTORY
they meant living or dying. It was not
long before he received his lieutenant-
colonelcy, with colonelcy in prospect.
As skirmishes and war actions heated up,
with Confederates trying to break
through into Ohio, Hayes and his men
suffered casualties from sickness and death.
Hoogenboom's narrative style, with
detail and explication, is helpful for those
who are interested, or should be. Others
can learn much regarding military set-
backs, frustrating orders from high
command which kept the Thirty First moving
East, South, alone and as part of the
larger brigade.
To follow Hayes in his long march from
Major to Brigadier General could be in-
structive on many counts. At the very
first Bull's Run, which put Confederates all
but in sight of the White House, Hayes
was first encouraged to think that the panic
of Federal troops would put Lincoln and
his generals in more realistic mood; this
was succeeded by depression as he
realized that Unionists needed hope and victo-
ries to remain loyal.
Finally, Federalists held western
Virginia long enough to make it the State of
West Virginia. Ohioans, crucial to
northern plans, were able to subdue the somber
pro-slavery forces in that state which
had threatened the actual conduct of the war.
Hayes was among those northern
commanders who held the line against brilliant
Confederates, and himself suffered
serious wounds.
Ohio repaid him, first by sending him to
Congress, where, as he concluded:
"The radical element is right.
Universal suffrage is sound in principle." This from
a man who frankly patronized blacks as
citizens and fighters, and who would not
repudiate friends who had chosen
secession and the South's version of the
Constitution. Ohio went on to make Hayes
Governor, and to re-elect him.
Hayes went on to reject an offered
Senatorial nomination on principle, and,
once free of the Governorship, turned to
investments and family health for duties.
In 1872, with President Grant thought
finished by his first term mishaps, Hayes
found himself drawn back into politics.
Hayes, as a former soldier, thought it nec-
essary not to desert President Grant,
his former commander. He made education a
primary pursuit for the rest of his
life, for whites as well as blacks.
The great crisis of 1876 drew him in,
and he fought strong contenders for the
nomination. The Democrats hit upon
Samuel J. Tilden, who had fought the Tweed
Ring in New York. Hayes promised reform,
notably in civil service. As politi-
cians labored to secure electoral votes
in the stalemate, the threat of renewed civil
war darkened.
Frustrated southerners could be readily
found to close ranks for another Bull's
Run. It is generally agreed that Tilden,
with a patent majority in votes, could have
taken office, had he come to Washington
and fought for it. But he did not. He
hedged and was legalistic, at a time when
legality was itself in question.
Democrats and Republicans quarreled
behind closed doors, seeking a compromise.
Decades of research have not changed
their final resolution. Hayes could have the
office, if he withdrew Federal troops
from the South.
He took office, and withdrew his troops.
Was this a sellout? Could Tilden have
done better? One thing is certain. Those
who think that History is dull might try
to prove it here.
The Belfry Louis Filler
Ovid, Michigan
Book Reviews 203
The Salmon P. Chase Papers. Volume 2: Correspondence, 1823-1857. Edited by
John Niven, James P. McClure, Leigh
Johnsen, Steve Leikin, and William M.
Ferraro. (Kent: The Kent State
University Press, 1994. xxv + 489p.; chronol-
ogy, illustrations, notes, editorial
procedures, bibliography, index. $35.00.)
The recent release of volume 2 of Ohio
politician and reformer Salmon Portland
Chase's papers, correspondence from
1823-1857, nicely complements volume 1,
Chase's diaries, published just a year
earlier. Happily, Chase was a better corre-
spondent than he was a diarist and most
readers will find his letters more interest-
ing than his diaries-although serious
researchers will surely use both.
This new volume contains only
correspondence, mostly from Chase although
there are some letters to him as well.
The editors have chosen to omit legal briefs
and other writings which, while
important, are generally available elsewhere.
Apparently Chase's extant correspondence
is fairly voluminous and the editors
were forced to be extremely selective in
their choice of documents. They do not,
and perhaps they cannot, say what
proportion of the available letters they chose,
but they seem to have selected missives
to or from notable persons, others that
explicitly state Chase's political
philosophy or describe his political activities,
and some which detail important aspects
of his personal or family life.
The letters begin while Chase was a
student and conclude just after his election
to a second gubernatorial term. One of
the earliest letters, written on November 4,
1825, by Salmon's older brother
Alexander Ralston Chase, gives Salmon some
good, solicited advice on choosing a
profession. In a letter of February 8, 1830,
to his fried Charles D. Cleveland, the
twenty-two year-old Salmon contemplates
changing his "fishy" name to
Spencer DeCheyce or Spencer Payne Cheyce.
Generally letters during the 1820s and
1830s are quite sparse, however, merely
giving an occasional glimpse into
Chase's life. Far more letters are included for
the 1840s and 1850s, reaching their
greatest number in the years 1848-50.
With few exceptions Chase's
correspondence from these later decades is politi-
cal and the reader can trace his
successive involvement with various parties from
the Liberty and Free-Soil organizations
to the Free or Independent Democrats,
whom Chase regarded as the true
Democratic Party. Ultimately Chase joined the
new Republican coalition and his letters
give some account of the party's early
struggles. While attempting to define or
explain his political positions and prin-
ciples, Chase corresponded with such
antislavery stalwarts as Charles Sumner,
Joshua R. Giddings, William H. Seward,
and Gamaliel Bailey. He defined his posi-
tion as a Free Democrat in a letter to
John G. Breslin of July 30, 1849, explaining
that he agreed with "the doctrines
of the democracy, on the subjects of trade, cur-
rency, and special privileges," but
he believed that democratic principles must
also apply to slavery (p. 251), the
issue which he saw as a major political prior-
ity. While Chase himself was opposed to
the Know-Nothing movement, he and
some of his correspondents discussed the
probable effects of Know-Nothingism
on his political campaigns. Chase not
only wanted to be senator and governor,
both offices which he held during this
period, but he also wanted to be president.
Viewed as too controversial, Chase was
not chosen as the Republican candidate in
1856, but the question of his potential
candidacy for the 1860 election came up as
early as his letter of November 3, 1857,
to his friend Charles D. Cleveland.
Among the letters pertaining to his
family is the missive to Cleveland of
October 1, 1845, grieving over the death
of his second wife, Eliza Ann Smith
Chase, on September 29. There are a
number of letters to his third wife, Sarah
Bella Dunlop Ludlow Chase, as well as a
few to his daughter Kate, one of
204 OHIO HISTORY
September 30, 1855, being a particularly
entertaining account of the difficulties
of travel he experienced during his
first campaign for governor.
The editorial staff have continued their
good work evident in the previous vol-
ume, briefly identifying people and
explaining events and allusions as necessary.
Readers can look forward to at least one
more volume.
University of Tennessee, Knoxville Glenna R. Schroeder-Lein
The Papers of Ulysses S. Grant. Volume 19: July 1, 1868-October 31, 1869.
Edited by John Y. Simon. (Carbondale:
Southern Illinois University Press,
1995. xxvi + 608p.;
illustration, notes, chronology, calendar, index. $65.00.)
The Papers of Ulysses S. Grant. Volume 20: November 1, 1869-October 31,
1870. Edited by John Y. Simon. (Carbondale: Southern Illinois
University
Press, 1995. xxiii + 525p.;
illustration, notes, chronology, calendar, index.
$65.00.)
The latest installments of The Papers
of Ulysses S. Grant continue the excellent
tradition established by John Y. Simon
and his editorial team. First-rate editing
and thorough indexing make these new
volumes extremely user-friendly and indis-
pensable research tools. Moreover, Simon
and his staff have provided an invalu-
able service to historians by making
Grant's writings more accessible, eliminat-
ing the need for costly and
time-consuming excursions to numerous repositories
scattered across the country.
Volume Nineteen (July 1, 1868-October 1,
1869) covers Grant's transition from
the musty barracks to the smoke-filled
backrooms of Washington. The volume
opens prior to the 1868 presidential
election, as Grant, then commanding general
of the Army, tended to military business
and avoided as best he could the political
arena. That summer he traveled
extensively and, true to his characteristic loathing
of speechmaking, dodged several public
appearances. When faced with a stump
and a captive audience, he merely
thanked his well-wishers and departed, seeming
more like a man searching for sanctuary
than a politician seeking the highest of-
fice in the land.
The general returned to Galena in August
1868 and remained there until the
November elections catapulted him to the
presidency. During his first months in
office he found the path toward political success strewn with obstacles
seemingly
more formidable than the Army of
Northern Virginia. Reconstructing the former
Confederate states remained a key issue
and Grant, remembering his distasteful ex-
perience during President Andrew
Johnson's battles with Congress over
Reconstruction policy, signaled his
willingness to work with the legislative
branch and avoid the bitter
constitutional clashes that had undermined the previ-
ous administration.
Formulating a coherent Indian policy in
his first term also proved difficult as
turf wars between the War and Interior
Departments and the corrupt practices of
Indian agents frustrated progress. In
foreign policy Grant cast a covetous eye on
Santo Domingo and set his administration
on a collision course with Congress.
He also grappled with a flood of
patronage requests (several of which came from
his father) and rewarded former comrades
and friends with government posts.
Some of these appointments would later
haunt him and, sadly, one of his most
trusted appointees, Secretary of War John
A. Rawlins, died in September, 1869,
leaving Grant without a dear friend and
learned counsel.
Book Reviews 205
Volume Twenty (November 1, 1869-October
31, 1870) covers the second year
of Grant's first administration. In this
period he rejoiced at the ratification of the
Fifteenth Amendment which guaranteed
suffrage to black males. Although he
hoped this event, one of the most
important "since the nation came to life," would
signal the end of Reconstruction, within
six months he was enforcing the Ku Klux
Klan Act to prevent Southern political
terrorism from nullifying the new constitu-
tional rights.
Relations with Congress continued to
deteriorate in this period and the presi-
dent who had initially pledged support
for that august body was, by midterm, com-
plaining that "My peace is when
Congress is not in session." Events abroad also
consumed Grant's attention. In March
1870 he sent the Senate his pet foreign
policy initiative, the treaty to annex
Santo Domingo, arguing that, among other
supposed benefits, the new territory
could accommodate the entire black popula-
tion of the U.S. "should it choose
to emigrate." The Senate rejected the treaty,
however, further widening the rift
between Congress and the administration.
The latest volumes of the Grant
Papers follow his transformation from soldier to
statesman and illuminate his
introduction-as a civilian public servant-to the
cruel world of Washington politics.
Unlike 1864, however, the new president
could not elude the grasp of political
forces by moving his headquarters into the
field. Despite the turbulence that
marked Grant's first two years in office, the cor-
respondence in these volumes reveals a
man steadfast in his devotion to protect
with the law the Union he had helped
preserve with the sword.
The Ohio State University, Mershon
Center William B. Feis
Fleet Walker's Divided Heart: The
Life of Baseball's First Black Major Leaguer.
By David W. Zang. (Lincoln: University
of Nebraska Press, 1995. xvi + 157p.;
notes, illustrations, bibliographic
essay, index. $21.50)
Sol White's History of Colored
Baseball, with Other Documents on the Early
Black Game, 1886-1936. Compiled with an introduction by Jerry Mallory.
(Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1995. lxv + 289p.;
illustrations,
notes, index. $26.00.)
Handsomely produced by the University of
Nebraska Press, both of these vol-
umes attest to the continuing high level
of interest in the history of black base-
ball that, for the past fifteen-twenty
years, has commanded the labors of numerous
researchers working both in an academic
environment and as avocationally dedi-
cated members of the Society for
American Baseball Research. Each volume,
moreover, treats the life of a pioneer
in black (and early integrated) baseball, and
in each case the subject was a native of
eastern Ohio.
David W. Zang details the life of Moses
Fleetwood Walker, who was born in
1857 and raised in and around
Steubenville. In recent times "Fleet" Walker has be-
come a familiar figure for students of
both baseball and African-American history,
because during the 1884 baseball season
he played in forty-one games (all but one
as catcher) for the Toledo franchise in
the American Association--a league that
was operating for the third year as a
rival to the National League. Late in that sea-
son the short-handed Toledo club also
employed Welday Walker, Fleet Walker's
younger brother, as an outfielder for
five games.
When the Association trimmed back from
twelve to eight franchises following
that season, Toledo lost its "big
league" status and Fleet Walker drifted elsewhere,
206 OHIO HISTORY
performing in various "minor"
professional leagues where, as yet, white officials
and franchise owners had not drawn the
color line. From 1885 through the 1889
season, he played for teams representing
four different cities in five different inte-
grated leagues, before he and eventually
every other black player found themselves
excluded from competing with whites. By
the end of the nineteenth century,
"Organized Baseball" was lily
white; it would remain that way until Jackie
Robinson broke the color line in 1946
with the International League's Montreal
ball club.
Zang's book is far more than a baseball
biography. Meticulously researched, it
also treats Walker's student years at
Oberlin College and the University of
Michigan, his career as a businessman
(he operated a theater in Cadiz for eighteen
years), his efforts as an inventor (of a
new artillery shell and a movie projector de-
vice), his troubles with legal authorities
(he was convicted of mail theft in 1898),
and his authorship of a bitter tract on
American race relations-published in 1908
as Our Home Colony--that called
for the forced emigration of black Americans to
Africa. After a fascinating life, marked
by frustration and heartache but also by
success in various endeavors, Walker
died in 1924 in Cleveland.
An admitted "romantic," Zang
has written an important book, but one that fre-
quently claims too much. Walker was a
fairly light-skinned mulatto, which, Zang
insists, caused him to be particularly
burdened by what W.E.B. Dubois called the
"double-consciousness" of
being both black and American. Thus his "divided
heart." While it is true that not
until the turn of the century did the U.S. Census
Bureau adopt the designation
"Negro" for all racially mixed Americans, Zang over-
states the significance of Walker's
mixed-race heritage. In practice, white
Americans have always treated persons
with any African ancestry as being all
black.
Zang also consistently overwrites. Just
two examples: "Ever since Sigmund
Freud dared to build a hangman's
scaffolding out of the inner fears and secrets of
the human mind, biographers have been
quick to spring the trapdoor on their sub-
jects. . ." (p. xiii).
"Spectators would go free at the end of a game, but for the next
nine years baseball would hold Walker
captive, feeding him an addictive mix of
money, excitement, and notoriety to dull
the effects of rancor, futility, injury,
and, of course, division" (p. 16).
Finally, Zang strives for symbolic effect that
usually does not come off, as when he
ruminates on "what a huge weight [Walker's
father] was strapping to his newborn's
back when he named him [Moses]" (p. 7),
and the fact that in being born on a
Wednesday, Walker's troubled life was forecast
in folk sayings about "Wednesday's
child."
In his excellent fifty-four-page
introduction to Sol White's History of Colored
Baseball, Jerry Mallory attaches no symbolic value whatsoever to
the fact that his
subject's full name was King Solomon
White. Originally published in 1907 in
Philadelphia as Sol White's Official
Base Ball Guide: History of Colored Base
Ball and reprinted by Camden Press in 1984 in the original
typeface and pocket-
sized format, this new edition is not
only more physically attractive but, thanks
to Mallory, gives us a fuller
understanding of who and what "Sol" White was.
Born in 1856 in Bellaire, and at least
as light-skinned as Fleet Walker, Sol
White apparently did not suffer from the
"divided heart" Zang attributes to Walker.
If he did, it does not come through in
his characteristically upbeat account of the
early history of black professional
baseball. White played for, managed, and was
otherwise associated with many of the
teams whose comings and goings he chron-
icles from the 1880s, when black players
were scattered throughout Organized
Baseball, up to 1906, by which time
black professionals could play only for all-
Book Reviews 207
black, independently operating clubs.
Thus, writes Mallory, "Sol White
was a member of a tragic generation of African
Americans, born within a few years of
the Civil War" (p. li). When White and his
contemporaries reached adulthood in the
eighties, white society had not yet com-
pletely embraced the racial
exclusiveness that would be firmly in place within an-
other two decades. By 1906, however,
segregation would be the rule in virtually
every aspect of American life, and
"In no other profession," observed White, "has
the color line been drawn more rigidly
than in baseball" (p. 74).
Sol White, a onetime student at Wilberforce
College, put together a little book
that, as Mallory notes, "has
withstood the scrutiny of subsequent historical re-
search," which "pretty much
confirms White's version of most events and testifies
to his credibility and reliability as a
historian" (p. lviii). Reproducing all the
photographs (and advertisements)
contained in the original, the University of
Nebraska Press's new edition of White's
season-by-season narrative will delight
those who have long depended on it as an
indispensable source, and enlighten
those just discovering the rich history
of baseball on the other side of the color
line.
Ohio University Charles
C. Alexander
The Secret Six: The True Tale of the
Men Who Conspired with John Brown. How a
Circle of Northern Aristocrats Helped
Light the Fuse of the Civil War. By
Edward
J. Renehan, Jr. (New York: Crown
Publishers, 1995. x + 308p.; illustrations,
notes, bibliography, index. $25.00.)
Generations of Americans have known of
the Ohio abolitionist John Brown and
of his terrible deeds in Kansas and at
Harpers Ferry. Yet most are only vaguely
aware of the unlikely group of five New
Englanders and one New Yorker who se-
cretly conspired to supply Brown money
and weapons for his raid on the federal
arsenal in Virginia in October, 1859,
and at times hid him in their homes. Edward
J. Renehan, Jr., has written perhaps the
first full account of their role, their mo-
tives, and their actions. It is not an
especially flattering picture of the six who
appeared committed to Brown's plans but
displayed a noticeable lack of courage in
denying their respective roles after the
scheme collapsed.
Brown's pre-raid activities and the
actual events leading to his execution have
been chronicled by numerous popularizers
and historians, the best account of
which is Stephen Oates's sympathetic
biography. In contrast, the Secret Six have
received relatively little attention
other than as individuals, and Renehan provides
an effective group portrait. With no
obvious leader, they included the wealthy
New York philanthropist Gerrit Smith,
Unitarian minister Theodore Parker, social
reformer and educator Samuel Gridley
Howe, merchant George Luther Stearns,
writer and clergyman Thomas Wentworth
Higginson, and author-educator Franklin
Sanborn. All came to abolitionism before
1850 from prosperous and privileged
places in society and all came to
believe that only armed conflict could end slav-
ery. Parker, Howe, and Higginson were
part of the Massachusetts efforts in the
early 1850s to prevent the extradition
of those alleged to be fugitive slaves. All
were won to Brown by his Kansas crusade
and several of the group supported the
activities of the New England Emigrant
Aid Company.
Each of the Six contributed financially
with varying degrees of willingness to
Brown's Harpers Ferry plans. Yet when
faced with possible federal charges for
208 OHIO HISTORY
their role each denied participation in
the plot and several fled the country to avoid
testifying and possible arrest. Despite
their substantial egos they became masters
of denial of their respective roles even
to each other. Higginson alone refused to
flee, first hoping to rescue Brown from
his Charlestown jail and then after his exe-
cution to save the remaining
participants from a similar fate. Yet in later years,
no longer facing a loss of their own
freedom, those still alive remained passionate
defenders of Brown and made valiant
attempts to care for his family.
Readers are never sure exactly how
Renehan feels about Brown and the Secret
Six. He falls into the familiar trap of
viewing Brown as "a mad man who would
lead all who marched with him to certain
death" (p. 164), an interpretation which
only Oates succeeds in avoiding. Yet
Renehan at times also shows grudging admi-
ration for Brown and his
co-conspirators. Perhaps he reflects the ambiguity felt
by many who abhorred slavery at the time
and later. Still, one wishes for a more
compassionate view of those so dedicated
to emancipation, however achieved.
Renehan writes an engaging and exciting
account of events before and after
Harpers Ferry. Occasionally he falls
into cliches as in describing Brown's failing
wool business as "good as
bust" (p. 27), but for the most part he writes well. His
research successfully delved into the
letters and diaries found in archives from New
England to Kansas. In places the
extensive quotations form the letters of the Six
and others are unnecessarily lengthy.
Nonetheless, the result is a thorough and
accurate description of the role of a
group which has until now remained somewhat
elusive.
Youngstown State University Frederick J.
Blue
Nowhere to Run: The Wilderness, May
4th & 5th, 1864. By John Michael
Priest.
(Shippensburg, Pennsylvania: The White
Mane Publishing Company, Inc.,
1995. xvii + 316p.; illustrations,
notes, bibliography, index. $29.95.)
By the spring of 1864 the nature of the
Civil War, and the character of the
armies on both sides, had changed
significantly. Three years of bloodletting had
altered not only the way in which troops
fought but also their views of the war, of
death, of their officers, and of
civilians. Nowhere to Run, John Michael Priest's
account of the first day of the fighting
in the Wilderness, skillfully captures the
moods of the soldiers on both sides and
their experience of combat. Priest's pur-
pose is to write the story of this
battle from the perspective of common soldiers
and company officers. The major players
in most accounts of this battle-
Generals Ulysses S. Grant, George Meade,
Robert E. Lee, J.E.B. Stuart, and A.P.
Hill-are hardly seen at all, and only a
few officers at the rank of colonel or above
enter Priest's narrative.
Nowhere to Run is composed of dozens of fragmentary sketches of the
fighting,
culled primarily from regimental
histories, diaries, and letters. The narrative
roughly follows the chronology of the
battle, but it moves rapidly from place to
place, tracing the actions, emotions,
and impressions of dozens of different units
and individuals. Among the incidents
that Priest shows the reader are Union regi-
ments camping among the corpses and
wreckage of the previous Battle of
Chancellorsville; fires igniting the
cartridge boxes of the wounded and inflicting
new, horrible wounds; Union
sharpshooters killing Confederates attempting to re-
trieve their wounded comrades from
between the lines; regiment after regiment
stepping into the tangled terrain of the
Wilderness and losing their cohesion and
Book Reviews 209
direction; and Northern and Southern
troops passing each other unaware on a road
late at night. Priest vividly, and often
graphically, portrays the chaos and confu-
sion of battle, the terrifying firepower
of Civil War weapons and the carnage that
resulted, the fear, rage, and courage of
the soldiers, and the bizarre occurrences that
were a part of every Civil War battle.
Priest also possesses an excellent grasp of
Civil War tactics, and he describes with
precision the new methods of fighting
that had developed by this time: the
employment of greater numbers of skirmish-
ers and more dispersed formations; the
practice of assaulting in short rushes rather
than in long steady advances; and the
increasing tendency of troops on both sides
to fight either behind breastworks or
from a prone position.
Readers should be warned that an
appreciation of Nowhere to Run requires a prior
understanding of the major features of
the Battle of the Wilderness, for Priest in-
cludes no discussion of the battle's
strategic context, the maneuvers of the armies,
or the reasons for the Union defeat. To
his credit, Priest clearly states at the outset
the parameters of his work and refers
readers to Edward Steere, The Wilderness
Campaign (now superseded by Gordon Rhea, The Battle of the
Wilderness, May 5-
6, 1864) for an operational account. Readers may also find the
complete lack of
variation in Priest's narrative
structure to be somewhat tedious and confusing.
Nonetheless, Priest writes with
directness, imagination, and sympathy, and he
succeeds in recreating the sights,
sounds, and smells of a battle and confining the
reader's view to that of an ordinary
solder. Nowhere to Run is also attractively
produced, and the text is accompanied by
no fewer than forty-five outstanding
maps and twenty-nine well-chosen
photographs. Though Nowhere to Run should
not be the first work that anyone reads
on this great clash, its alternative perspec-
tive is valuable.
Columbus, Ohio Noel Fisher
Making a Place for Ourselves; The Black Hospital Movement, 1920-1945. By
Vanessa Northington Gamble. (New York:
Oxford University Press, 1995.
xviii + 265p.; illustrations, notes,
index. $45.00.)
In this book, Vanessa Northington Gamble
has contributed significantly to our
knowledge of an important chapter in the
history of American medicine. The au-
thor chronicles the 20th century
movement led by the National Medical
Association (NMA) and the National
Hospital Association (NHA) to upgrade medi-
cal and educational programs at black
hospitals. The movement was grounded in
the understanding that the future of the
black medical profession was linked to im-
proving the quality of healthcare
services delivered at these hospitals. Operating
in a profession shaped by segregation
and discrimination, black practitioners
struggled to make a place for themselves
within American medicine. Gamble
shows how black medical leaders, hoping
to establish large, modern facilities,
championed the values of scientific
medicine and accepted the prospect of closing
the prototypical, small black community
hospitals that usually lacked training fa-
cilities. This carefully-researched of the black hospital movement in
the
wider context of black community
development and the varying pressures exerted
by white institutions.
Focused on three communities-Tuskegee,
Chicago, and Cleveland-the book
tells us much about the interaction of
the black hospitals with the federal govern-
ment and white philanthropy. Following
the Civil War, healthcare for blacks was
210 OHIO HISTORY
of concern to the larger white society
if for no other reason than self-protection
but this care was to be provided on a
segregated basis. By 1920 the basis for mod-
ernization of the black hospital was
established as the number of black physicians
rose from 900 in 1890 to about 3,500 in
1920. The preference of many blacks of
this era for black-operated facilities
was rooted in a not irrational fear that blacks
in a white hospital would be used for
unwarranted medical experimentation. Black
hospitals could only survive if they
adapted to contemporary standards of hospital
technology and accreditation. Among
prime leaders of the reform movement were
the physicians Midian O. Bousfield,
Peter Marshall Murray, John A. Kenney and
H. M. Green. In the face of opposition
from physicians associated with the
NAACP these leaders argued that the
development of quality black institutions
would further eventual acceptance into
the medical mainstream. In support of their
position they pointed to the woeful, if
not nonexistent, care provided blacks in
most white hospitals. Blacks of the
middle class as well as poor blacks were af-
fected by the existing system. A
persistent schism came into being between
physicians committed to integration and
those who believed they must build a
base of strong black institutions. The
division was not absolute as the differing
factions united in the 1920s struggle to
place African Americans in charge of the
Tuskegee Veterans Hospital. The black
community won this struggle. The
Tuskegee institution became a modern,
well-equipped facility, accredited by the
American College of Surgeons.
Gamble provides an interesting
discussion of the relations between the black
hospital and white philanthropy. The
assistance furnished by philanthropists was
facilitated by the circumstance that
black migration to the cities left no doubt that
health conditions among African
Americans was of national concern. Sadly
enough, society's response to the health
needs of black people was made depen-
dent upon the health concerns of white
people. In some instances, as that of the
activities of the Duke Endowment,
philanthropic activity was shaped by racism,
proceeding from the premise that no
black physician was capable of running a
hospital. Such a philanthropic leader as
Abraham Flexner linked an interest in
healthcare for blacks to the health
status of white Americans, at the same time urg-
ing that the practices of black
physicians be limited to black patients. The
Rockefeller-founded General Education
Board, a major source of support for medi-
cal education, assumed, Gamble writes,
the intellectual inferiority of African
Americans.
Making a Place for Ourselves sheds light on such topics as the Provident
Hospital Project in Chicago and the
campaign in Cleveland to open the municipal
hospital to black nurses and interns. At
Provident, there was a protracted effort to
link the hospital with the University of
Chicago and although the university,
even with its enormous resources, failed
to provide adequate support, the affilia-
tion played a role in making possible
the professional survival of black physi-
cians and offering access to various
fields of specialty training. In Cleveland the
black community combined the demand for
equal treatment at the City Hospital
with support for the establishment of a
quality black-led facility.
In the 1940s hospital segregation was
given a lease on life by the federal Hill-
Burton Act. Under this act funds were
used to build segregated hospitals. It was
only in the 1960s with enactment of the
Civil Rights Act and rulings by the
Department of Health, Education and
Welfare that it became firmly established that
hospital segregation was contrary to
law. The focus now had to shift to enforce-
ment of national policy, with that
enforcement still often lax and incomplete.
In this book we have an incisive,
illuminating treatment of the interrelated
Book Reviews 211
themes of the 20th century challenge to
hospital racial segregation and the needs
of African Americans to survive and
safeguard their health within an either de jure
or de facto segregated national
healthcare system. The historically black hospi-
tals may be, as the author suggests, on
the brink of extinction, but they furnished
a proud record of achievement and served
as a necessary bridge to the future.
Blacks required protection against the
working of a racist healthcare system and
such protection as existed was offered
by the black hospitals.
University of Cincinnati Herbert
Shapiro
The Sacred Fire of Liberty; James
Madison & the Founding of the Federal
Republic. By Lance Banning. (Ithaca: Cornell University Press,
1995. x +
543p.; illustrations, appendix, notes,
index. $35.00.)
James Madison, asserts Lance Banning,
carried a consistent constitutional vi-
sion from his service in the Virginia
Assembly and the Confederation Congress
through the 1787 Philadelphia
Constitutional Convention and the ratification
battles that followed, the crafting of
the Bill of Rights, the increasingly partisan
conflicts of the 1790s, and the balance
of his long career. Banning repeatedly
points out that his reading of Madison's
constitutional thought as unwavering
puts him at odds with many scholars who
have viewed Madison as shifting from an
unqualified nationalism in the 1780s to
a defense of state rights thereafter.
Although he perhaps belabors this
historiographical point, in The Sacred Fire of
Liberty Banning, a professor at the University of Kentucky,
provides a thorough,
fascinating, and persuasive assessment
of the extraordinary Virginian who, the au-
thor convincingly affirms, stood
"preeminent among the men who shaped, ex-
plained, and won an overwhelming mandate
for the nation's fundamental law" (p.
1).
Banning presents Madison as steadfastly
committed to a national republic of de-
fined and limited powers. Coming of age
in the midst of the American revolution,
Madison from his college days at
Princeton manifested an intense commitment to
republicanism. Also early on he showed a
strong concern for the protection of
minority religious and speech rights
against majoritarian impositions.
Moreover, Madison maintained a deep
interest in the welfare of his native
Virginia. These became his priorities
during his service in the Virginia assembly
and Confederation Congress. Madison came
to view a large diverse republic con-
taining a multiplicity of political
views and religious faiths as the best means of
protecting minority rights while
achieving representative government and, not
coincidentally, best serving Virginia's
economic and western land interests.
Banning illuminates these priorities in
Madison's approach to the 1786
Annapolis convention and his crafting of
the Virginia Plan for a strong central
government, but one with checks on
majoritarianism, that set the agenda at
Philadelphia.
Through the 1787 Constitutional
Convention, the subsequent writing of the
Federalist papers, and the 1788 Virginia ratifying convention
Madison gained a
better understanding of how best to
achieve his fundamental goals. His struggle to
secure a large republic tended to
overshadow what Banning regards as his equally
strong desire to circumscribe the
authority of that government. In discussing the
Bill of Rights, Banning masterfully
elucidates his thesis. Madison's apparent
change of heart between the Philadelphia
and Virginia conventions on the need for
212 OHIO HISTORY
a bill of rights represents not a basic
shift in direction but rather an evolving tac-
tical understanding of how to achieve
his state's ratification of the Constitution
and, above all, an acknowledgment of his
commitment as a democratically-chosen
representative to serving the
preferences of his constituents. During the First
Congress Madison's actions leading to
the adoption of the Bill of Rights demon-
strated his sustained commitment to the
protection of minority rights and limited
federal authority, particularly through
the First, Ninth, and Tenth Amendments.
The battles that erupted during the
Washington and Adams administrations fur-
ther spawned the view of Madisonian
inconsistency. Banning maintains, how-
ever, that Madison had never been in the
camp of the Hamiltonian unrestrained na-
tionalists and thus was not altering his
stance. Not even in the Virginia and
Kentucky resolutions of 1798 did he act
as an anti-Unionist but rather as a defender
of minority speech against overbearing
majoritarianism. Though Banning does
not examine Madison's secretaryship of
state or his presidency, his thesis would
gain further support from Madison's 1816
call for a constitutional amendment to
sanction federal internal improvements.
A large republic to carry out tasks be-
yond the capacity of states but one
operating within enumerated powers so as not
to grant too much license to a mere
majority remained central to Madison to the
end of his public life. The balance he
struck represents the very core of American
constitutionalism. Anyone contemplating
contemporary as well as early national
American government will find valuable
insights in this thoughtful book.
University of Akron David E.
Kyvig
Liberty and Equality 1920-1994. Volume 4: Liberty in America 1600 to the
Present. By Oscar and Lilian Handlin. (Scranton, Pennsylvania:
Harper/Collins
Publishers, 1994. xviii + 363p.; note on
sources, notes, index. $30.00.)
Oscar Handlin, the influential Harvard
historian, and Lilian Handlin have com-
pleted the final installment of a
four-part series on the forces that have either nar-
rowed or expanded people's ability to
act since 1600. In understanding American
history through the lens of liberty, the
Handlins demonstrate a gift for weaving
together the story of our country from
the significant and mundane occurrences in
society.
That liberty anchors the American
experience is a point well made in this vol-
ume. Less satisfying is the
juxtaposition of equality beside liberty in the decades
after 1920. The Handlins show how
postwar affluence enabled formerly excluded
groups to participate in the mainstream,
albeit with a token presence. Early in
their preface, the authors frame the
debates about liberty and equality as a matter of
whether liberty will win out or be
abrogated to some degree. The Handlins' eager-
ness to define expansion of equality as
a cancer on liberty, however, seems more
political than scholarly in this age of
affirmative action rollbacks.
Whether the central historical tension
after 1920 can be understood as a zero-
sum game between "liberty" and
"equality" is a problematic proposition, particu-
larly if we examine the experience of
African-Americans in this country during the
1920-1994 period. Consider that Southern
Blacks were not inspired by songs
about liberty or equality while risking
their lives in the Civil Rights Movement.
Rather, words from the old Negro
spiritual-"Free At Last, Free At Last, Thank
God Almighty, We're Free At
Last"-and the labor favorite-We Shall Overcome,
We Shall Overcome, We Shall Overcome
Someday, Deep In My Heart, I Do
Book Reviews
213
Believe, That We Shall
Overcome Some Day"-carried the day in the Black church.
These are songs of
freedom, a freedom at the crossroads of liberty and equality.
The Handlins might
have thought more about the African-American struggle,
thus enriching the
equality theme of the book. For example, I am surprised that
Liberty and
Equality attempts a grand social,
political, and cultural history of
equality in the 20th century
without reference to the works of Derrick Bell, Patricia
Williams or Harold
Cruse. Professor Daniel Farber has written that, at times, little
seems new in the
affirmative action debate. In recycling the equality of opportu-
nity/equality of
results debate, the Handlins are open to Farber's critique.
Having read Liberty
and Equality, I would leave the reader with two final impres-
sions. First, the book
is quite effective on the liberty theme underlying the
American journey into
the postwar age. I came away impressed with the Handlins'
wealth of knowledge
and power of interpretation. The Handlins have made a con-
vincing case.
Second, I found this
book difficult to read at times because of my knowledge and
concern about the
social history of racial minorities. Beginning with the work's
preface, the Handlins'
position about the danger posed to liberty by an expansive
notion of equality is
quite clear. The authors are thus committed to explaining
their theory of
juxtaposition between liberty and equality rather than exploring
the condition of
intersection amongst liberty and equality, particularly for
African-Americans. On
these matters of race, the book disappoints.
California Western
School of Law Winkfield
Twyman, Jr.
Women in
Cleveland: An Illustrated History. By Marian J. Morton.
(Bloomington: Indiana
University Press, 1995. xvi + 245p.; illustrations, in-
dex. $29.95 paper;
$39.95 cloth.)
This work by Marian
Morton (number four in The Encyclopedia of Cleveland
History: Illustrated Volumes series) chronicles the history of the women of
Cleveland from the
first known white settlers James and Eunice Kingsbury in 1796
to the current year of
1996. Late eighteenth-century Cleveland was little more
than malarial swamps
near the mouth of the Cuyahoga River, occasionally fre-
quented by Amerindians
(Delawares, Chippewas, Ottawas, and Senecas). When the
early settlers could,
many moved to the higher ground of Newburg Township. The
trend of abandoning
the city for the suburbs would, of course, be repeated in the
mid-twentieth century.
Cleveland's
bicentennial inspired this text. In 1896 the city formed the
Cleveland Centennial
Commission to commemorate the city's centennial. A
product of this
endeavor was the Memorial to the Pioneer Women of the Western
Reserve (edited by Gertrude Van Rensselaer Wickham), written by
216 historians,
in seven volumes, to
tell the story of women in the area and their vital role in the
Western Reserve's
history. The Woman's Department of the
Centennial
Commission left this
greeting to be opened at Cleveland's bicentennial: "TO
WOMEN UNBORN[,] 1896
SENDS GREETING TO 1996[.] We of today reach forth
our hands across the
gulf of a hundred years to clasp your hands. We make you
heirs to all we have
and enjoin you to improve your heritage" (p. 236). Looking
from that midpoint, to
the past and to the future, one finds a city built by women,
with (or more often
without) the recognition they truly deserve.
Good-sized histories
make up the bulk of the chapters: "Pioneering Women,"
214 OHIO HISTORY
"Defining Woman's Sphere,"
"Saving the City," "Going to Work," "Entering the
Professions," "Cultivating the
Arts," "Winning the Ballot," "Meeting the
Challenges," and "Opening
Doors." There are shorter essays on growing up,
sports and recreation, marriage and
family, work, fashion, clubs and associations,
and growing old. But, since this is an
illustrated history, the photographs are the
main focus. Here one will find a photo
of Councilman Lawrence O. Payne's (all
female) basketball team from 1935; the
eight young African-American ladies in a
team pose, looking smart and proud in
their matching uniforms reading "PAYNE
FOR COUNCIL" (p. 92). There is the
image of a women's military unit marching
on Public Square during a victory parade
in 1945 (p. 115). From that same era are
also two "Rosie the
Riveter"-type women working at the Cadillac Tank Plant,
wearing welder's goggles, open-neck work
shirts, and overalls (p. 202).
In the chapter on "Winning the
Ballot," one finds a float in a 1914 suffrage pa-
rade designated "The Suffragist
Arousing her Sisters." On the float is a trumpet-
blowing suffragette with others in
various states of repose at her feet, all being
awakened to the cause (p. 173). One
learns about Zelma W. George, an African-
American woman appointed by President
Eisenhower as a delegate to the United
National General Assembly.
George's appointment to her visible
position was part of the United States' effort
to win the support of nonwhite Third
World nations in the Cold War against
Communism. (The United States did not
score points in that battle when George,
while serving as UN Delegate, was not
permitted to sit in a segregated Florida air-
port.) (pp. 214-215).
There are many, many other memorable
photos: a tough-looking midwife holding
her horse in 1910 (p. 66), everybody's
favorite witch-Margaret Hamilton-in a
very non-witchy pose in 1929 (p. 169),
Jane Edna Harris Hunter, lawyer and
founder of the Phillis Wheatly
Association, in 1930 (p. 32), the beautiful soprano
Rachel Walker Turner during a London
performance in 1897 (p. 167), and the list
goes on. Not every photo is of stellar
quality. Some are not very remarkable and
one may question their inclusion.
Perhaps in another hundred years, they will
look different in people's eyes.
The text, while very good, is not in the
same vein as Morton's early work, "And
Sin No More: Social Policy and Unwed
Mothers in Cleveland, 1855-1990" (Ohio
History, Volume 103/Summer-Autumn 1994). The earlier text was
geared to a
more scholarly audience. Morton's other
works are Emma Goldman and the
American Left: "Nowhere at Home" and First Person Past: American
Autobiographies (coedited with Russel Duncan). Morton is professor of
history at
John Carroll University and is a native
Clevelander. Recommended.
Historical Society of Pennsylvania Lee Arnold
Remember Laughter: A Life of James
Thurber. By Neil A Grauer. (Lincoln:
University of Nebraska Press, 1994. xxii
+ 294p.; illustrations, notes, bibliog-
raphy, index. $20.00.)
Neil A. Grauer's biography of James A.
Thurber, Remember Laughter, is a popu-
lar account of the writer's life.
Thurber died in 1961 and, as Grauer writes, his
work meets the test for "durability
and remain in print three decades after his
Book Reviews 215
death" (p. xvi). Thurber is
remembered for his stories of dominating women and
the daydreams of weak men, with the best
known example being "The Secret Life
of Walter Mitty." The story was
adapted into a movie and has become a recurrent
story in popular culture. Thurber won
international fame for his writing and his
cartoons. His greatest fame came from
his work for The New Yorker under the edi-
torial guidance of Harold W. Ross.
Thurber grew up in Columbus, Ohio, and
attended the Ohio State University.
Although Thurber never graduated from
The Ohio State University, he did take his
first steps down the path of journalism
and writing while on the campus. Thurber
enjoyed some undergraduate success
writing for The Lantern and the Sundial, both
student papers. A mainstay of Thurber's
work was the small town yokel. Much of
the inspiration for his later
autobiographical My Life and Hard Times came from
his experiences living at 77 Jefferson
Avenue in Columbus. Another source of in-
spiration was Thurber's family. As
Grauer notes, the Thurber family tree had "its
own quirky offshoots, mostly oddball
aunts whose bizarre traits would later pro-
vide their grandnephew James with the
grist for a seemingly inexhaustible supply
of anecdotes about eccentric
relatives" (p. 2). As might well be expected, James
Thurber's liberal use of his family and
friends in his writing produced tension and
conflict. Grauer's description of
Thurber's family indicates that they might well
have been justified in their concern
over how they would be remembered.
While Ohio proved a constant source of
inspiration for Thurber, it was in New
York that he flourished. Thurber moved
to Greenwich Village and eventually be-
came a reporter for the Evening Post.
He failed as an active reporter of news and
began writing features. Soon, Thurber
was writing for The New Yorker, where he
came under the guidance of Elwyn Brooks
White and Harold W. Ross. The rela-
tionship with Ross was crucial to
Thurber's career and development as a writer.
Ross was the founder of The New
Yorker. This relationship eventually culminated
in Thurber's controversial memoir The
Years with Ross. Many felt that Thurber
was unfair to Ross in the book and it
cost Thurber his friendship with White.
The strength of Grauer's biography is
his obvious admiration of Thurber and his
work. Grauer's book is full of charming
and well-written accounts of Thurber and
his various acquaintances. Grauer's
account of Thurber's growing blindness is
nicely told, showing Thurber's
determination to continue working despite his in-
creasingly intense bouts with
depression.
Remember Laughter is intended for a popular audience as Grauer avoids current
intellectual and academic trends.
Notably missing form the work is the use of lit-
erary criticism techniques. Grauer's
admiration Thurber helps to explain some of
the weak points of the book, which
includes a tendency to pull back into qualifica-
tions rather than fully exploring his
topic. Grauer offers this description of
Thurber: "Thurber, although given
to moodiness, could be a charming, sociable
drinker who was interested in many
things and delighted in arguing about all of
them" (p. 38). This description
contrasts with Grauer's later acknowledgment that
Thurber evolved into "a dedicated
heavy drinker, prone to bursts of anger and com-
bativeness" (p. 50).
The most obvious example of Grauer's
ambivalence is when he deals with
Thurber's misogyny in his stories and
cartoons. Such character traits in Thurber
are usually qualified or explained away,
as in the introduction where Grauer writes
that perhaps "an equally remarkable
aspect of the enduring quality of Thurber's
work has been its continuing popularity
despite the undeniable misogynist tinge
to much of his writing, and the widely
circulated, uncontested tales of his private
misanthropy" (p. xvi). He
introduces Thurber's affair with Ann Honeycutt but cuts
216 OHIO HISTORY
away before developing the theme.
Thurber's difficulties with his first wife, and
not his affairs with mistresses, are
casually given as the reason for Thurber's nega-
tive depiction of women. But the
question remains, were Thurber's wives really so
domineering that they stood as the
source of his inspiration? Reading this ac-
count of Thurber's life, it was easier
to pity him rather than to find his behavior
objectionable or worthy of deeper
understanding. Grauer opens a discussion of
Thurber's dislike of Hollywood movie
people during the 1930s because they
tended to be Jewish, but in the next
paragraph informs the reader that whatever
"anti-Semitism Thurber may have harbored
appears to have been exorcised by the
Holocaust" (p. 79).
However, Remember Laughter remains
a good introduction to Thurber's life.
Grauer correctly points to Thurber's
artistic accomplishments as a writer and a car-
toonist. Given the relatively short
length of the book, Grauer does a remarkable
job of covering Thurber's life. Grauer
has produced a fine popular biography.
Scholars of Thurber may find the book to
be a bit on the light side, but Remember
Laughter is still a book worth reading. Grauer allows readers to
revisit Thurber
and, perhaps, to remember works they had
read but forgotten.
The Institute of Industrial
Technology Phillip G.
Payne
The General's General: The Life and
Times of Arthur MacArthur. By Kenneth
Ray
Young. (Boulder, Colorado: Westview
Press, 1994. xv + 400p.; illustrations,
notes, bibliography, index. $32.95.)
Kenneth Ray Young fills an important
niche in the biographical literature of
military leaders with The General's
General. There are countless books on lesser
military figures, yet Arthur MacArthur
has been largely ignored. As Young sees it,
this is partly because there is a lack
of good source material for MacArthur. There
is another reason as well. For decades,
those writers interested in the MacArthurs
have focused on Arthur's son Douglas.
But Arthur deserves his own study. He rose
to become the Army's ranking general,
and his career included significant service
in the Civil War, the frontier army, and
the Philippine Islands. Although Young's
treatment of MacArthur's Civil War
experience reveals little that is new, his study
of MacArthur as a frontier officer and
in Southeast Asia helps flesh out our under-
standing of the Army and America's
colonial policy at the dawn of the Twentieth
Century.
After a perfunctory examination of
MacArthur's childhood, Young recounts the
future general's exploits as a teenage
officer in the Civil War. MacArthur's ac-
tions in the Battles of Murfreesboro and
Franklin receive special attention, as
does his heroic action at Missionary
Ridge. Relying on previous scholarship to
aptly place MacArthur into the broader
context of wartime operations, Young does
not uncover much new, although his
account does suggest something of
MacArthur's growth and transition into
manhood.
Young begins to shine when he turns his
attention to MacArthur's frontier days,
which stretch to the 1890s. Young places
MacArthur's career against the canvas
of the late Nineteenth Century frontier
army, and in the process fills out one per-
son's experience with-and role in-many
important developments. As a vora-
cious reader and conscientious student
of war, MacArthur was a part of the rising
tide of military professionalism after
the Civil War. He attended early service
schools at Fort Leavenworth, and
delivered a few scholarly papers. Young also re-
Book Reviews 217
counts MacArthur's part in Army reforms
at frontier posts; MacArthur was instru-
mental, for instance, in setting up post
exchanges.
Young is at his best when writing about
MacArthur's time in the Philippines at
the turn of the century. As a soldier,
MacArthur helped conduct what was in fact
America's first limited was in Southeast
Asia, and his operations could have served
as a model for America's other Southeast
Asian wars. As the Military Governor of
the Philippines, MacArthur championed
policies of compromise and conciliation
within the context of colonial rule as a
first step toward self-government for the
Islands. Although some scholars may take
exception to this portrait of MacArthur
as a benevolent governor, Young
represents a sound interpretation. In the end,
Young argues MacArthur presented a
forward thinking ideal for American colonial
policy, an ideal later adopted by
Douglas MacArthur in both the Philippines and
Japan decades later.
Arthur MacArthur's personal papers were
destroyed in Manila during World War
II, and as a result Young's source
material is somewhat restricted. There is virtu-
ally no treatment of MacArthur as a
youngster, and throughout the book there is
little about the private MacArthur and
his personal relationship with his son
Douglas. But Young has command of the
collateral and secondary sources, and he
smartly fleshes out MacArthur's public
life at every stage. Moreover, Young does
a nice job of both treating Arthur as an
autonomous historical figure and offering
some insight into Douglas' life. This is
a nicely written and thoughtful book, a
work that specialists and general
readers alike should find enlightening.
Bowling Green State University Thomas Hughes
Crete and James: Personal Letters of
Lucretia and James Garfield. Edited by
John
Shaw. (East Lansing: Michigan State
University Press, 1994. xxi + 397p.; il-
lustrations, notes, bibliography, index.
$34.95.)
Over the course of their five-year
courtship and twenty-three-year marriage
(1853-81), Lucretia Randolph and James
A. Garfield often lived apart, as James
pursued an education and then a career
in politics, first in Columbus and later in
Washington. During his frequent and
extended absences the couple maintained a
lively and surprisingly frank
correspondence. As many as twelve hundred of their
exchanges have survived and are today
housed at the Library of Congress. From
this voluminous collection John Shaw, an
emeritus professor of English at Hiram
College, has drawn and annotated some
four hundred of the most revealing letters.
"My basis for selection," he writes,
"has been the inherent interest in the topics
discussed and a regard for the
continuity of the marital relationship. I wish the let-
ters, above all, to tell a story of a
marriage" (p. vii).
Lucretia met her future husband when
they were children at the Geauga Academy
in Chester, Ohio. Quite by chance, they
both subsequently went to study at the
Western Reserve Eclective Institute in
Hiram, a newly founded Disciples of Christ
school now known as Hiram College.
There, in November 1853, the twenty-one-
year-old James first expressed a
romantic interest in the bright and articulate
classmate exactly his age. Three months
later they were engaged.
Marriage, however, would have to wait
until James completed additional educa-
tion at Williams College and then
established himself in a profession. The geo-
graphical separation that was to
characterize their lives as young adults began in
summer 1854 when James headed east to
Massachusetts. Their ensuing correspon-
218 OHIO HISTORY
dence, at first formal and restrained,
warmed as the months passed; it would be an-
other year, however, before James could
bring himself to address her as "Crete."
After graduating from Williams in August
1856, James returned to teach in the
Hiram institute, where he was soon named
director. A breech obviously occurred
in his relationship with Crete, who
accepted a teaching position in Cleveland
thirty miles away. James spoke openly of
his affection for Rebecca Selleck, a
woman he had met at Williams.
"Rebecca is a good and noble girl, in many as-
pects far my superior but she loves you
no better than Crete," a wounded Lucretia
wrote (p. 90). Depressed and decidedly unenthusiastic,
James apparently felt, after
a five-year courtship, that he had no
choice but to marry Crete. His prospective
in-laws worried that he might leave
their daughter standing at the altar. Jokingly,
perhaps, Crete sent the groom an
invitation.
Despite their marriage in November 1858,
the couple often lived apart. This
separation continued following James's
election in 1860 to the state senate in
Columbus and his entrance into the Union
army the following year. For his ser-
vice in eastern Kentucky Garfield was
promoted to brigadier general. Plagued with
an assortment of recurring maladies, he
agreed in fall 1862 to stand for election to
the United States House. His wife,
ever-supportive, agreed to his candidacy,
though she lamented, "I don't know
but politics is to be the death of you yet" (p.
146). As Ohio's newest congressman
headed to Washington-typically, alone-
Crete calculated that in five years of
married life they had lived together only
twenty weeks.
At home in Hiram, Crete suffered at
least one miscarriage and then the devastat-
ing loss of their beloved daughter Eliza
("Trot"), age three. She also heard rumors
of her husband's infidelity. In May
1864, James wrote from Washington to reas-
sure her. "The story is wickedly
and maliciously false," he declared, "and I have no
doubt it has been manufactured in the
interest of some one who wants my place
here" (p. 207). Yet within weeks
James returned to Ohio to confess his affair with
Lucia Gilbert Calhoun, a widow twenty years
of age.
Crete forgave him-but made immediate
plans to move to Washington. Living
together at last, they now corresponded
only sporadically, usually when one or the
other was traveling. These letters offer
poignant and convincing evidence that
James came, albeit belatedly, to
reciprocate fully the love his wife had so long ex-
hibited. "Were every tie that binds
me to the men and women of the world sev-
ered," he wrote Crete in 1867,
"and I free to choose out of all the world the sharer
of my heart and home and life, I would
fly to you and ask you to be mine as you
are" (pp. 242-43). Trained in the
classics, he must have delighted in punning
"'All roads lead to Rome' says the
old proverb. In the Directory of my life all roads
lead to Crete" (p. 341).
In March 1881, Lucretia and James
Garfield moved with their five children into
the White House. Six months later he was
dead, the victim of an assassin's bullet.
Crete returned to Ohio, where she lived
a widow for thirty-seven years. At her
death in 1918, she was buried in
Cleveland beside the former president.
This expertly edited collection provides
a fascinating glimpse into the dynam-
ics of a mid-Victorian marriage.
Scholars of the Gilded Age, women's history, and
first ladies cannot afford to miss this
insightful volume.
Kentucky Historical Society Thomas H. Appleton, Jr.
Book Reviews 219
From Pearl Harbor to V-J Day: The
American Armed Forces in World War II. By
D.
Clayton James and Anne Sharp Wells.
(Chicago: Ivan R. Dee, Inc., 1995. xii +
227p.; illustrations, notes, index.
$24.95.)
In just over two hundred pages, James
and Wells boldly set out to examine "the
strategy, logistics, high command,
operations, and home-front aspects of the
American armed forces: during World War
II" (p. xii). They largely achieve this
daunting goal in impressive fashion. The
book is divided into four parts: mobi-
lization and planning, European
operations, hostilities in Asia, and a concluding
overview. A narrative description of
combat operations forms the heart of the
book, treating European affairs first
from early 1942 to German surrender. It then
assesses the war in the Pacific from
December 7, 1941, to Japanese surrender.
Lesser theaters where Americans served,
China-Burma-India, for example, are dealt
with perfunctorily. Others, such as the
Aleutian Islands, are virtually ignored.
James and Wells also discuss, sometimes
only briefly, such key issues as prewar
planning, the German submarine
challenge, strategic bombing, Army-Navy
strategic rivalry in the Pacific, the
Allied use of military intelligence, and the im-
pact of the war on the American home
front. Close cooperation between Britain
and the United States receives special
attention. James and Wells conclude that
the Anglo-American team outperformed the
Axis powers in four areas: effective
combined command, vastly superior
logistics, sounder strategic formulation, and
excellent intelligence collection and
assessment.
The authors, in sum, attempt to tell the
American military role in this massive
global conflict while briefly analyzing
the crucial strategic, logistical, manage-
rial, and technological challenges all
belligerents faced. Their description of the
part American armed forces played in
fighting the war is the best part of the book.
James and Wells provide a succinct
general treatment of the war that proceeds from
a quick assessment of grand strategy
through to concise campaign descriptions.
Unavoidably the campaign narratives
assume a high command perspective that
only occasionally goes below the army or
fleet command level.
One must be impressed by the authors'
ability to summarize the history of
mankind's largest war, a war that has
generated a massive literature, without drain-
ing it of meaning or content. James and
Wells never temporize nor condescend.
As part of the American Ways Series
published by Ivan R. Dee, From Pearl Harbor
to V-J Day is clearly intended for undergraduate students but it
would serve well any
general reader unfamiliar with the
history of World War II. This reviewer has al-
ready used the paperback edition in
class to good effect.
It seems unfair to chastise the authors
for lapses given their achievement of en-
compassing World War II in such a small
space. Nonetheless there are problems.
A book this short lacks the luxury of
putting the reader in a foxhole, a pilot's seat,
in an LST, or the boiler room of a
destroyer. Unfortunately, the authors attempt to
encapsulate the war experience of
enlisted personnel. They do so tersely and pro-
duce a weak chapter that neither informs
nor matches the book's overall narrative
drive. James and Wells depict an average
soldier/sailor/marine/airman, possibly
overseas, possibly in combat, who is
most likely to be white but might be black,
Native American, or Japanese-American,
or even perhaps female.
Lesser weaknesses include confining the
Soviet Union to the periphery of their
discussion, downplaying the sometimes
bitter Anglo-American strategic dis-
agreements, and bypassing American mobilization
efforts from late 1939 through
late 1941. Surprisingly, the decision to
drop the atomic bomb on Japan is dis-
pensed with in a three sentence
paragraph. Finally, small, highly generalized
220 OHIO
HISTORY
maps make it difficult for the reader to
follow campaign descriptions.
These criticisms are not intended to
detract from the success James and Wells
have achieved in presenting a succinct
and informative history of America's mili-
tary efforts in World War II.
University of Missouri-St. Louis Jerry Cooper
Book Reviews
The Abolitionists & the South,
1831-1861. By Stanley Harrold.
(Lexington:
The University of Kentucky Press, 1995.
x + 245p.; illustrations, notes, bibli-
ography, index. $29.95.)
Did the struggle to end slavery cause
the Civil War? Twentieth-century theories
of the war from Charles Beard's economic
interpretation to the currently fashion-
able cultural split between North and
South have relegated abolitionist radicals to
the sidelines as a causative factor in
the war and by implication questioned the ca-
pacity of radicals to bring about
significant change in society. To Stanley Harrold
(South Carolina State), however,
abolitionists should not be studied merely as ex-
emplars of aspects of northern culture
but instead as people who were genuinely
interested in the South's peculiar
institution and had an important role in destroy-
ing it.
In this, Harrold's second book on the
abolitionist movement, he argues in topi-
cally organized, highly analytic
chapters that abolitionists continued to be deeply
interested in the South, even after
their initial efforts to propagandize the region
in the 1830s failed. Their newspapers
and letters, he points out, continued to
carry news of antislavery agitators
(Cassius Clay, John Fee, Charles Torrey, and
others) in the border states as well as
indications of slave unrest. The complex
images created of these white and black
southern warriors against slavery encour-
aged emotional commitment by northern
abolitionists to their cause. While not
all factions of abolitionists favored
the same types of actions in the South to end
slavery, various groups did sponsor
Christian antislavery missions and churches,
slave liberating expeditions (long
before John Brown), and the formation of free
labor communities that would literally
export northern civilization to the South.
Abolitionists' experiences in such
enterprises shaped their commitment to and
understanding of abolition as much or
more than any worries they might have had
about social changes in the North. Their
aggressiveness forced moderate antislav-
ery supporters to constantly redefine
their commitment and also warned slave-
holders that the abolitionist threat was
"neither distant, inadvertent, nor insub-
stantial" (p. 153). Harrold even
suggests that the assumptions upon which recon-
struction of the South were based owed
something to the abolitionists, who fre-
quently continued their interest in the
South after the formal end of slavery.
Harrold's reinterpretation of the
abolitionists does not stand alone. It comple-
ments Herbert Aptheker's 1989 study, Abolitionism: A
Revolutionary
Movement, and recalls James L. Huston's significant 1990 article
in the Journal
of Southern History, "The Experiential Basis of the Northern
Antislavery
Impulse." The presence of a real
abolitionist threat in the southern border rein-
forces William Freehling's vision of a
divided South in The Road to Disunion
(1990). Clearly polarization,
confrontation, and ideological commitment are re-
ceiving new respect from Civil War
historians.
Yet a word of caution is necessary.
While abolitionist media contained news
about the South and slavery, they also
covered internal disputes within the move-
ment and discussions of all aspects of
reform, here and abroad. To demonstrate the
dominance of one theme over another
would seemingly require some form of con-
tent analysis and perhaps an analysis of
where antislavery societies used their lim-