U.S. Grant

Jean Edward Smith:  Grant
Ulysses S. Grant:  18th President (1869-1877); b. 1822; d. 1885

I've just finishing reading Smith's Grant and I enjoyed it so much that I'm writing about it immediately (this, of course, means that I'm severely delinquent in updating the blog--two of the members of Mount Rushmore are outstanding). US Grant was a towering figure in American history.  He gets much less credit than he deserves--this is a conviction that I've held since doing some graduate history work before law school.  One of the things that's remarkable about Grant is his singular and unceasing devotion to the Union and to making the Union a better place.  In this conviction he's truly close to Lincoln, and like Lincoln he made an indelible contribution to the country.  His contributions during the war were obvious, but like Lincoln he entered the Civil War with no real convictions regarding civil rights.  Once the war wound down, he was sincerely committed to integrating freed slaves into civil and political society.  And the contributions he made to this cause, both as president and as General of the Armies of the United States under Johnson, were immeasurable.

It's said that Grant's reputation suffered in the late 19th and early 20th century because Southern voices were dominant in fashioning the story of the United States, a story that had little patience for the Northern general that had defeated Robert E. Lee and tried to integrate the freedmen (whose children and grandchildren were living in a completely segregated society).  I can only think that this is true.  I don't see another explanation for how a true American hero--rose from poverty to save his country from disaster and then become president--is not a larger part of our national consciousness. 

Smith's book is great.  The length is certainly appropriate--600+ pages of readable text--and he gives substantial detail to the key Civil War battles and other significant events in Grant's life.  One thing that Smith does particularly well is chronicle Grant's relationship with those around him.  In particular Sherman, Phil Sheridan, Hancock, and Lincoln loom large.  But his relationship with a host of other individuals--particularly officers from the Union and Confederate armies--figure prominently.  Smith's history of the battles of the Civil War is similarly excellent.  Much of Grant's story is in the telling of the battles he fought, and Smith chronicles the events in these battles, and Grant's role, expertly.  I was also impressed with the way in which Smith compares events later in Grant's life--including events in his presidency--with lessons he learned as a general.  Interesting to see Grant the man grow into a remarkable leader.

My main criticism is the way in which Smith handles Grant's presidency.  Rather than moving chronologically, he handles it though a number of thematically-centered chapters.  I think this detracts from the flow of the work and makes it more difficult to understand the history of Grant's presidency. 

Destroy the Enemy:  It's remarkable how important Grant's understanding of this concept was for the Civil War.  So much of modern warfare centers around the importance of destroying your enemy's ability to fight you--once you have done that, you have won.  But much of Grant's contemporaries in the Union Army fought to gain what they saw as strategic advantages:  gain territory and cities of symbolic importance, and your enemy must give up.  Grant instinctively knew that this was not the case--the British captured Philadelphia and Napoleon Moscow, but both lost the war.

Appomattox:  Grant's magnanimity here was a true display of his character.  And it went a long way towards healing the wounds of the Civil War.  This was a spirit he kept into his presidency--he wanted confederates to return to the Union.  He was simply horrified, however, when they refused to recognize the rights of their fellow citizens.

Chief Executive:  Grant is caught in a period of transition as president.  I think he handled this change well, but many critics soon after his presidency judged him on the standards applicable to his predecessors.  Grant was dealing with a new United States, a government much larger than existed prior to the Civil War, and under the 14th and 15th Amendments charged with responsibilities for protecting the rights of its citizens.  Grant handled this in two ways.  First, he made himself personally responsible for enforcing the law.  This was a trait he inhered as General of the Armies of the United States and de facto leader of the conquered confederate states as commander of the general heading each of the post-war military districts.  This rubbed many in Congress the wrong way.  Used deferential treatment of Pierce and Buchanan and spiteful of Johnson (who ceded substantial leadership to Congress because he didn't have the ability to form a coherent reconstruction policy), Congress was annoyed by someone taking charge.  Second, he gave substantial responsibilities to his cabinet members, who he expected to run their portfolios and report to him.  This is much closer to what we see now.  The President has responsibility over a huge governmental apparatus.  He sets the tone for governance and expects those beneath him to run their departments.  Grant was a master delegator, and he should be credited for pioneering this style of presidency.

Scandal:  There were significant scandals here.  Grant bears responsibility for these--I'm sure that he would not have it another way.  Much of this stems from his leadership style and his trust in his cabinet members.  It's tough to see what he could have done to stop these initially, but if he had shown less tolerance for such malfeasance from his allies he perhaps could have stopped some of this before it occurred.  For some if these, it's ridiculous to fault Grant.  His wikipedia page lists the Whiskey Ring as a Grant scandal, but as soon as Grant caught wind of this he stopped it in its tracks.  Similarly, the Salary Grab "scandal" was a law passed by Congress--don't see how this is a presidential scandal.  I'm not sure why people want to pin all of this on Grant.  Moreover, in spite of these Grant was hugely popular.  He won huge majorities in 1868 and 1872, and likely would have won the same in 1880 had he not lost the nomination in a close battle.  Moreover, it's tough to see how these would have been at the top of Grant's agenda.  Massive numbers of Republicans and African Americans were being murdered in cold blood in the south by white supremacists, many of whom acted with the approval of the local and state governments (or were government officials).  Grant was busy crushing the KKK, stopping lynching, and trying to ensure that blacks were not murdered when they tried to vote.  Just because for the next 50 years or so politicians stopped caring about these minor issues and spent more time focusing on collecting excise taxes and monitoring government contracts doesn't mean that Grant's priorities were misplaced.  Grant's courage on these truly important issues was true courage.

A Small Man:  Throughout the book we see Grant described as a smaller-than-life man with a larger-than-life legacy.  He was short--5 foot 7, or my height--and trim.  He was often soft spoken.  He had excellent manners and was unassuming (I love the story of him trying to check into a small single room in a Washington hotel after returning to duty after the Civil War).  He was, in short, an easy man not to notice.  But he was brilliant, decisive, and willing to speak his mind and pursue what he thought was right.  His calm under pressure repeatedly reassured his troops and halted what could have been disastrous events or edges his troops onto victory.  He thought through contingencies and consistently thought about larger strategic goals and the effects of effects of decisions.

International Man of Mystery:  The stories of former president Grant traveling the world are wonderful.  I love how he was invited to meet the Kaiser, and by himself and in street clothes walked up to the palace and told the guards who he was there to see--no pomp, no circumstance.  He met the pope, kings and queens, emperors and heads of state.  He helped negotiate peace between China and Japan.  He was a man beloved by the world.

Smoker:  Grant was a chain smoker of cigars (which must have made him smell awful).  And he died early of throat cancer.  He was, in this way, an unhappy trailblazer of many in the 20th century.

Franklin Pierce

Garry Boulard:  The Expatriation of Franklin Pierce: The Story of a President and the Civil War

Franklin Pierce:  14th President (1853-1857); b. 1804; d. 1869

I won’t say a lot about Franklin Pierce.  He’s largely a forgotten president.  If it was not for the law school named after him in New Hampshire, I doubt we’d ever hear his name before.  This is a beautifully written book.  Boulard begins the book with Pierce leaving the White House and embarking on a European tour.  The story of Pierce’s rise in New Hampshire and his eventual nomination as the Democratic candidate for president (at a time when he had left public service) and his failed presidency are told largely as flashbacks.  This seems particularly fitting for Pierce as the technique lends an air of sadness to the story which fits well into Pierce’s life.

Pierce was exceedingly successful as a politician—he was hansom and well dressed (I don’t think I’ve read of a president being described in such terms since Van Buren) as well as terribly charming.  But his life was filled with personal tragedy—all three of his sons died prior to his taking the White House, the most painful loss being that of his youngest son in a train accident just months before his becoming president.  And his presidency was a total failure.  He was a true doughface and his approval of the Kansas-Nebraska Act lead to significant turmoil and was a step towards civil war.  Unfortunately, Pierce lacked the ability to build bridges across party lines and improve national unity.

It’s difficult not to feel bad for Pierce, though.  Between Polk and Lincoln, there were a series of failed presidencies.  Without the complete conviction to a single purpose held by these two men—Polk to expanding the union, Lincoln to preserving it—presidents were swept up by the events of the 1850s and were unable to direct the current of events.  And Pierce’s commitment to civil liberties during Lincoln’s administration was truly principled.  Lincoln deserves all the credit for saving the union, but he was certainly willing to break a few eggs in making the omelet.  The criticism of Pierce's long friendship with Jefferson Davis and the attacks against him following Lincoln's assassination were unfair.

The books is brief—just under 200 pages of text—and Boulard certainly could have included more detail in the book.  But given Pierce’s historical significance (or relative lack thereof) and the book’s excellent pacing, the length seems appropriate.

Andrew Johnson

Hans L. Trefousse:  Andrew Johnson:  A Biography
Andrew Johnson:  17th President (1865-1869); b. 1808; d. 1875


Andrew Johnson was a sonofabitch.

Henry Clay

David S. Heidler, Jeanne T. Heidler:  Henry Clay: The Essential American
Henry Clay b. 1777; d. 1852

Henry Clay never became president, but it wasn’t for lack of trying.  The great leader of the Whig party, Clay saw the lesser William Henry Harrison and Zachary Taylor as Whig candidates in 1840 and 1848.  Harrison defeated an embattled incumbent (Martin Van Buren) during a deep recession and Taylor (after Polk stepped down) defeated Democrat Lewis Cass in large part because Van Buren ran on a free soil platform and siphoned votes away from Cass in New York.  Clay lost to John Quincy Adams in 1824, was crushed by Andrew Jackson in 1832, and got edged by Polk in 1844.

Clay, in a photograph--not many of those yet

I read Clay’s biography for a couple of reasons.  First, Clay was a very interesting individual.  He was probably the most important non-president of the pre-Civil War U.S. except for perhaps Alexander Hamilton.  Part of reading about the presidents is reading about great historical figures—Clay is still great even though he never quite made it all the way to the White House.  Second, Clay was a national figure for a long, long time.  Clay entered the U.S. senate in 1806, during the presidency of Thomas Jefferson, and became good friends with Dolly Madison.  He was active in the Senate 44 years later, where he negotiated the Compromise of 1850, which helped (temporarily) avoid a civil war.  So wanted to read Clay just before I got into Lincoln, whose presidency really ended on epoch and began another.

Clay’s life had a real richness to it.  He was involved in many important events in many different decades.  The Heidlers’ book does a great job explaining these events in a very readable fashion.  It’s not the best biography that I’ve read—it can drag at times—but I’m glad that I read it.

Slavery:  This is an issue that whizzed right by Henry Clay.  He owned slaves, but was schooled in the era of Jefferson and Monroe—people who owned slaves but recognized that slavery was a regrettable and flawed institution.  The later part of his career he saw dominated by Southern fire-eaters, who actually came to defend the peculiar institution as a positive good.   

A Great Lawyer:  I’m a lawyer.  I find it inspiring that so many of our presidents were also lawyers, and really great ones at that.  Buchannan and Van Buren were both popular, jocular men who excelled in the courtrooms of New York and Pennsylvania.  As was Lincoln in Illinois.  Clay was also an excellent lawyer—hell, he successfully represented Aaron Burr in his state criminal trial in Kentucky (after which Clay had to go back to the Senate, and deal with the issue again).  But Clay was also a tremendously hard-working corporate lawyer.  He represented a number of railroads in property disputes with farmers and banks (including Henry Biddle’s Bank of the United States) against debtors.  None of this was popular work—he was representing corporate interests against regular people—but it was complex and detail oriented, and it paid the bills.  This is an inspiring fact about Mr. Clay.

The American System:  We today take it for granted that the federal government will support roads, bridges, harbors, and other infrastructure improvements.  But in Clay’s day, this was a controversial issue.  But Clay stood his ground boldly and fought for this program because he thought it would tie the nation together and improve the lives of millions of Americans.  This was a continuation of the great work done by Alexander Hamilton.  What makes me scratch my head is that so many people opposed this, especially people who stood to gain so much from this program.  (I wish we could get people to support a massive infrastructure improvement program today.  But what can you do.)

Personal Tragedy:  As with many of the men in this series, Clay had a number of personal tragedies befall him.  He lost sons and daughters to illness and one to the Mexican-American War, and as a result he and his wife ended up raising various grand children (he’s similar to Q in this regard).  And his long battle with TB at the end of his life was a long and rather unpleasant way to go.  Life was even more fragile then than it is today.

James K. Polk

Robert W. Merry:  A Country of Vast Designs: James K. Polk, the Mexican War and the Conquest of the American Continent
James K. Polk:  11th President (1845-1849); b. 1795; d. 1849

Polk is a first-rate president (I'll not attempt to hide my very high opinion of the man) and Merry’s account of his life is engaging and compelling. Merry doesn’t hide his opinion either.  He thinks that Polk's president was almost a complete success.  Polk set out a number of goals at the outset of his presidency—completion of the annexation of Texas, favorable resolution of the Oregon border dispute, acquisition of California and New Mexico, reduction of tariffs, and the creation of an independent treasury system.  He accomplished all of these goals and left the office as a complete success.

Polk:  Gave us "from sea to shining sea."

I really like Polk, and I have since learning about him in grade school.  I think it’s awesome that he turned the United States into a continental power.  We take it for granted that this was going to happen, but it didn’t have to.  There is a ton of empty space between the Mississippi River and California / Oregon.  And given transportation and communications in the 1840s, it was just as likely (perhaps more likely) that an independent English-speaking nation would arise on the West Coast.

A Sudden Star:  Polk is the first U.S. President to suddenly rise to national prominence by becoming the president, and then achieving national success (this isn't Truman territory, but imagine if Clinton had entered office and rammed through his ambitious agenda).  Let’s not overstate things.  Polk had legitimate success as a Jacksonian congressman from Tennessee.  And he had a very quick rise once elected, become whip and Speaker of the House at a very young age.  But then he went back to Tennessee and served rather unsuccessfully as a one-term governor (he lost his re-election bid in 1841).  For most folks this would have represented an ending, but in the party-driven politics of the 1830s and 40s, Polk was able to win the ticket in 1844 as a result of fractures in the Democratic Party.  But unlike a lot of other compromise candidates (I’m looking at you Franklin Pierce), Polk’s presidency was a wild success.

Workaholic:  Each president brings a different temperament and working style to the office--and it doesn't seem that one was is right.  But Polk appears to have killed himself being president.  And I mean this in a literal sense—his death a few weeks after leaving office is I think rightly seen as partially caused by exhaustion.  When Polk set his goals he worked, and worked, and worked to pass legislation, establish diplomatic protocol, and plan a war.   And he constantly worried about all of it.  His effort appears to have paid off.  The sweat he put into each of his project appears to have greased the skids at the capital, in diplomatic circles, and to a lesser extent in Texas.  

(It’s a damn shame that his Secretary of State didn’t adopt the same can-do attitude in 1860.)

I think in large part because of this, Polk’s presidency seems very modern.  He had clearly defined policy goals.  He made major decisions based on his best judgment.  He refused to be bullied by Congress, and he enlisted others to help bend Congress to his will.  He was strongly partisan and believed in his party, but his opinions were his own.  Polk was also a rather colorless historic personality—nothing like Jackson or even Van Buren—which sounds like so many modern politicians.

Impotence:  It’s interesting that three of our early presidents—Washington, Jackson, and Polk—all appear to have been unable to father a child.  These are also three of the presidents who had truly emotional attachments to their country.  I don’t want to practice pop-psychology, but here’s my pop-psychology:  one could say that they were making up for something by putting their fatherly energy elsewhere.  

Vegas; LA; San Francisco; Grand Canyon; Seattle and Portland--Thanks Polk

You Can’t Make This Stuff Up:  Polk’s presidency is filled with truly dramatic and exciting moments.  The most colorful of these is Polk authorizing former Mexican president Santa Anna to re-enter the country so that he could negotiate an armistice--he of course took up arms against the U.S. after he passed through American lines.  We also have a friendly senator failing to notice the time and letting a Senate session expire before a vote could have been had on a treaty that would likely have ended the war much earlier--but he spoke to long, the Senate went into recess, and the war continued.  And the characters in the war itself, including John Freemont who would bungle so much in the Civil War, Winfred Scott, and host of others, make this one of the more interesting conflicts in U.S. history.  Isn’t this why we become interested in history:  For the moments when one decision changes so much?

John Adams

Daniel McCullough:  John Adams
John Adams:  2nd President (1797-1801); b. 1735; d. 1826

I’m a big fan of John Adams, and McCullough obviously is as well.  He’s a unique politician and statesman—he believes in the cause of the United States and is convinced that he’s right (common), but he’s so stubborn that he completely refuses to change his approach of his ways even when it’s apparent to him that by doing so he could better achieve his goals (supremely uncommon).  He’s principled—it’s a strength and a weakness.

The books is obviously a masterpiece.  McCullough won all sorts of awards for this book, and he gives a rich and detailed account of Adams’s life.  McCullough also does a wonderful job of working in certain details of each of the other individuals who played a role in Adams’s life:  his wife plays a major role; Jefferson is prominent; his son is a key character (more as he relates to his father’s career that in regards to his own); Franklin; King George; etc.  This is a huge book, 700+ pages, which is rather lengthy for someone living mainly in the 18th century.  But Adams was a vociferous writer and his prominent role in many crucial historical events more than justifies the length.  And McCullough, as always, keeps the reader engaged and does an excellent job of making sure that the reader isn’t lost in a sea of details.

 

Abigail Adams:  She’s obviously intelligent but unbelievably stogy.  She’s like the archetypical puritan—it’s like enjoyment is itself a sin.  But she’s supportive of her husband and makes obvious contributions to the cause of liberty.  And the way in which she loosens up when she gets to Paris is truly enjoyable to read about.  What’s also great is the extent to which the other founders—especially the southerners Jefferson and Washington—are drawn to her and her intelligence.

Her relationship to her sons is a central piece of the book.  She seems to have been extremely overbearing.  Her oldest son, John Quincy, appears to have at times struggled under the weight of her high expectations, and was nervous and high strung for most of his life.  Her other sons slowly descended into alcoholism, and their early deaths were major tragedies for her and her husband.  She was also a member of the Massachusetts aristocracy, cousin to the Hancocks and other prominent families in and around Boston.  She was a real puritan, both in her views and in her ancestry.  While 1620 seems like a long time ago to us (it was, to be fair, almost 400 years ago), people born in the mid to late 1700s could name recent ancestors that had arrived from England as part of the great migration.

Descended from These Guys--No Really

Jefferson:  This guys is unbelievable.  The fact that he would, while a member of Washington’s cabinet, actively work against the administration’s initiatives is troubling, especially for someone of his stature.  His conduct during the election of 1800 (which was brutal) is even more troubling.  Adams and Jefferson were close, closer than brothers, and Jefferson was willing to toss that aside to advance his own agenda.  Not cool.

The Election of 1800:  I find it reassuring.  This was a truly vile campaign, filled with vicious personal attacks.  Jefferson’s campaign accused Adams of being a monarchist (false) and mentally unstable (false, but less false).  Adams’s campaign accused Jefferson of fathering children with one of his slaves (true) and of being an anarchist (mostly false).  People often suggest that the U.S. is going to hell in a hand-basket because Republicans and Democrats were at each other’s throats.  But there is no way that it was worse than it was in 1800—I mean, a number of people were put in jail because of their criticisms of the Adams administration.  If that happened today, there would be an uprising.  And this reminds me of an SNL skit from the Clinton administration in which Washington, Franklin, and Jefferson come to the present with ideas for how to fix all of our problems.  In stead of substantive questions, the media grills them about their personal lives—Jefferson asked about sleeping with his slaves and Franklin about his amorous flirting in France.  The implication was that back in the day, people didn’t ask such questions—politicians were judged on their merits.  This is of course not true.  Both sides of the campaign of 1800 circulated vicious stories about each other.  Adams was accused of being insane and being a monarchist, both false.  Jefferson was accused of fathering children with one of his slaves, true.  The nation survived the election of 1800, it’ll survive Michelle Backman and Sarah Palin.   

Teacher in Worcester:  Many of the prominent individuals in this period spent some time teaching; for Adams this meant working as a school teacher in Worcester as he prepared for a career in the law.  Not a glamorous position, but it must have shaped his personality and taught him important skills that would be of use as a legislator and diplomat.

Rustic Beginnings

Reader, Writer, Poet:  It is in many ways impressive how cultured this man (and his son) were.  They really appear to have found joy in their books, and they constantly read and learned to better themselves.  When books, and therefore learning, were scarce, the Adamses put a premium on expanding their minds.  Both Adams presidents were true scholars as well as statesmen.  There is a lot to admire here.

James Buchanan

Phillip S. Klein:  President James Buchanan: A Biography

James Buchanan:  15th President (1857-1861); b. 1791; d. 1868

Klein's book is actually very good.  It's very well-paced, interesting, well-written, all the things one would expect from a good presidential biography.  Klein really digs into a lot of primary source material--including many of Buchanan's own papers--to bring out details of a number of life-changing (and history-changing) events in Buchanan's life.

The weakness in Klein's book is that, at times, be becomes too much of a cheerleader for Buchanan.  Klein appears to accept that Buchanan's pursuit of his own political goals is itself a good, and this lets him justify a number of Buchanan's questionable decisions as good politics--Buchanan's vacillation on tariff policy to appease Pennsylvanians becomes wholly acceptable.  Klein also too readily accepts Buchanan's stated belief in a limited executive as a justification for his undermining Polk and his failure to respond to the Succession Crisis.  Lots of other presidents who stated such views--Jackson and Jefferson are two examples--took swift and decisive action when it was in the national interest.  Buchanan's decision to cling to these ideas when they put the future of his country at stake may have made him a tragic figure, rather than a nefarious one.  But it surely didn't make him a hero.

Bachelor President:  This is, of course, something that's commonly noted about Buchanan.  And I think it says something about the country that he remains the only bachelor president.  Klein paints a compelling portrait of Buchanan the man, and a number of instances we can see Buchanan latching onto male friends in a way that we may not see among married men (this is, perhaps, similar to the bonds formed 50 or 75 years earlier by men like Adams leaving their wives and traveling abroad in national service).  I think, again, he most resembles Van Buren, who was widowed early and spent his later years attracting feminine attention.  Both men were described as handsome and well dressed, although the plain-dressing Buchanan would contrast with the dandyish Van Buren. This fact adds a little color to his character--the lack of which is painfully obvious in so many contemporary politicians.
 and

Regarding women, the tragic love story of his you is heartbreaking--you really feel for this guy and his fiancée (although, his refusal to take decisive action to preserve a bond worth saving perhaps foreshadows 1860-61--I can't be the only person to have thought that).  And the scenes of apparent disappointment when, even as a rather aged gentlemen, romantic hopes do not come to fruition are poignant.

Living History:  One thing I enjoyed when reading about Buchanan was the re-telling of much of the history of his era.  Buchanan was active as a national politician for a long time (dates).  And because of his skill he quickly rose to prominence.  His interactions with Jackson were scandalous, and during his time in the Senate he spared with Clay and Calhoun and (more).

Buchanan and Polk:  One period of notable interest was his time as as Polk's Secretary of State.  Polk was an asshole when he was in Polk's cabinet, and he was at times willingly obstructionists when he thought it would further his own political aims (always at Polk's expense).  Polk took aggressive stances with the British on the Oregon question as a way to push the envelope and get a resolution.  Buchanan immediately favored friendly negotiations aimed at seeking compromise, oblivious to the fact that positional negotiation does not work that way (this is, again, reminiscent of Buchanan's failed attempts to placate South Carolina in 1860).  When Polk went as far as he could go, and was ready to settle the issue, Buchanan reversed his position and said he didn't want to back down.  Klein described this as Buchanan "giving Polk some of his own medicine."  This is crap.  Polk's aggressive stances on Texas and Oregon turned into spectacular gains for the US, and Buchanan tried to sabotage that because he didn't have the stomach to play the game Polk was playing.

Van Buren, the Sequel:  What’s immediately apparent about Buchanan’s career is it’s similarity to Martin Van Buren’s.  These two men were both successful attorneys from somewhat humble origins (I’d say that both of their fathers would be solidly middle class if translated to today) without any military background who committed themselves to politics.  And not just politics—these men were committed to Democratic party politics, with its commitment to patronage, strict construction of the constitution, and a significant friction with New Englanders and the Whigs.   Van Buren was about 10 years older than Buchanan, and his presidency—coming after Andrew Jackson but before James Polk—was really a part of a different era.  Given these similarities, it’s unsurprising that they both responded to national emergencies (Van Buren to the Panic of 1837, Buchanan to the Secession Crisis) in wholly unsatisfactory ways.  Both, believing in a limited executive and unwilling to truly rock the boat of Democratic politics, provided what I think are correctly seen as limited and muted responses to crises that called for a significantly more vigorous response.

JB:  Handsom Devil (just like our man Van)

Secession Crisis:  The way in which a president responds to crisis is often the characteristic that defines his presidency.  Washington was measured and mature in cries for action again England or France (ah Citizen Genet, by 1861 it’s as if you’re from another planet).  Adams stubbornly (and perhaps crabbily) insisted on peace when others were clamoring for war.  Madison panicked and essentially seized up in the face of invasion in 1814.FN1  Jackson basically intimidated and shamed the secessionists of the early 1830s into silence.  Van Buren and Buchanan wrote speeches and introduced legislation, leaving the nation scrambling for more effective leadership.  The results achieved couldn’t be more different.

Buchanan really comes across as a tragic figure, especially in regards to the secession crisis.  Klein does a very creditable job explaining and defending Buchanan’s arguments based on the politics of the day.  But it truly seems that Buchanan’s devotion to certain principles—especially his unwillingness to take any military action without the express authorization of congress—that weakened him at a time when more leadership was necessary.  Klein explains in a number of instances that Buchanan attempted to move congress into action (and very fairly points out that a number of the criticisms of Buchanan faulted him for the failure to do what he asked congress to do).  But Buchanan has to take some of the fault for congress’s failures here. 

If Buchanan, a northern moderate, acutely understood the difficulties and risks presented by the secession crisis (and Klein thinks, as a result of his many decades in national politics he understood the situation much better than Lincoln, who stayed and home in Illinois and stayed mute until February, 1861), then he should have done more.  I get that Buchanan believed in a limited executive.  But there was nothing stopping Buchanan from going to individual congressmen and convincing people, twisting arms, and making deals to try to resolve the crisis.  Throughout the book Buchanan comes across as charming and as a political wizard.  It stands to reason that if he had put his powers to full use in fall 1860 through spring 1861 he could have achieved something.  And the idea that he didn’t want to do anything because he didn’t want to upstage Lincoln is a non-started—if he had attempted more decisive action, it would have fallen to the Republicans to either participate or (as they actually did with his legislative proposals) obstruct.  He was a conventional politician in an unconventional time.

Fort Sumter (The place to be in 1861)

In the end, though, you can't help but feel bad for the abuse the poor guy took.  He could have--should have--done better in 1860-61, but secession wasn't his fault and he certainly didn't cause the Civil War.

_______________________________________________________________

FN1.  The more I contemplate 1814, the more it becomes comparable to George W. Bush’s inability to handle the insurgency in Iraq.  Both men were surrounded by other clamoring for war that could have otherwise been avoided.  Both took the country into war unprepared and delusional about their chances of success.  And while the insurgents didn’t burn down the White House, we’ve been in Iraq for over 8 years now, and like the war of 1812 people are still not sure how this all happened.

1776

1776, David McCullough (2005)

I read 1776 for a number of reasons.  First, the book details life-altering events in the lives of Washington, John Adams, and Jefferson, meaning that it fits perfectly into this project.  Second, McCullough is a tremendous biographer—his books on Roosevelt and Truman led me to the idea that reading a biography of every president would be a rewarding endeavor.  Third, and most importantly, I forgot my Washington book during a visit to my parents’ house and wanted something to hold me over until I received it in the mail (and I wasn’t going to move onto John Adams until I finished Washington).

1776 is an excellent read.  It’s fast pace.  It has compelling characters and interesting events.  And it has a solid level of detail—enough to introduce the reader to new people and new events, and provide many new details about people events with which we’re already familiar.  This isn’t scholarship.  McCullough isn’t breaking new ground and his ideas aren’t new.  But it’s wonderful popular history and it’s more detailed and more careful than a lot of the popular history that’s on the market today.  I study history mainly because I like it—history is supposed to be fun.  This book is fun.  Enough said.

1776, the year, was monumentous (I think that should be a word).  The book isn’t just about 1776—it begins in 1775 with the siege of Boston and the decision to position General Washington as the head of the Continental Army.  Washington arrived in Cambridge in July 1775 and took command.  And the book ends on a high point—the victory at Trenton was a morale booster and the last major American victory until Saratoga.  I won’t recap the history, but there are lots of cool things in this book.

Boston in 1775

Loyalist in the Colonies:  American’s tend to think of the Revolution as us (Americans) versus them (British), but that’s just not the case.  During the New York campaign, lots of colonists in Long Island assisted the British when they landed in August 1776.  And it appears that Staten Island was almost entirely loyalist—British troops landing there were essentially landing on home soil.  Even in Boston, the most revolutionary of cities, there were substantial numbers of loyalists that pulled up stake and left with the British Army (many of them settled in New Brunswick and Nova Scotia).  This certainly makes the conflict more interesting, and it also makes the American victory even more impressive.  This also makes the British strategy of trying to wait-out the perhaps isolated Continental Army and wait for the population to capitulate more understandable.  [This wasn’t a total surprise—I was previously well aware of the presence of loyalists in the colonies, but not to this extent.]

Continental “Army”:  I don’t think people realize how rag-tag this force was.  These guys didn’t even have uniforms for the most part—they just showed up and fought in whatever clothes they could get their hands on.  They were terribly trained, un-disciplined, and when they were near home (as the New Englanders were during the siege of Boston), went home at their leisure.  What’s also surprising is that they served for one year commissions, and were allowed to leave at the end of their commissions (many of them left at the close of 1775 and the close of 1776, as did my ancestor John Baxter).  This country recently extend the commissions of soldiers serving in Iraq and Afghanistan because we had difficulty getting enough troops to fight abroad—but Washington and the other commanders in the Continental Army thought highly enough of individual liberty to let soldiers leave in the throes of this nation’s struggle for its very existence.

Knox, Greene, and Putnam:  Washington didn’t do it alone, and he had able assistance from some exemplary generals.  These were creative and supportive commanders who worked cooperatively with Washington to develop overall strategy and battle tactics with the Commander (and ably represented southern New England in the leadership of the Continental Army).   

Henry Knox

This leadership style—consensus building and seeking the input of his advisers—also served Washington well as president.  And it’s fun to read about these guys.  There are hundreds of smaller heroes in American history that provide color and depth to this history.

Washington

Washington:  The Indispensable Man, James Thomas Flexner (1969)
George Washington:  1st President (1789-1797); b. 1732[N.S.]; d. 1799

Washington is (obviously) the first stop in my quest to read a biography of every president; he’s an excellent place to begin.  Washington straddles two historic epochs.  In his youth we can see vestiges of feudalism and class structure that would soon melt away.  And in his later years we can see the emergency of new struggles based on economics and slavery that would define the new nation for decades to come.  Washington’s dynamic.  He grows and changes with the times, but it appears that he increasingly felt out of place as the 18^th century was coming to a close (he’s the only U.S. president to have lived entirely in the 1700s).  He also looms large in the lives of a number of his successors, laying a foundation for future reading.

Flexner’s book is a very good portrait of a wonderful American.  Flexner wrote this book as a condensation of his earlier, and much lengthier, four volume biography of Washington.   The book is very well paced, and very readable.  Washington’s life lends itself well to a picaresque-style narrative, and Flexner takes full advantage of this in crafting a very enjoyable book.  Flexner’s Washington is a compelling character.  Washington is thoughtful, curious, and concerned about his “country” (be it England, Virginia, or the United States).  He’s interested in ways to improve agriculture, transportation, and slavery—he wants to make the country better.  We can also see the man mature—early mistakes made in the Seven Years War and the Revolution are learning events that make him a better leader.  The man is a giant in American history, but Flexner makes him more accessible than he would be otherwise.

The book does suffer from a few drawbacks.  The first is, at certain times, a lack of detail.  There are about 400 pages of text here, and the book certainly would not have suffered from another 100 or so pages of detail at certain critical (and not so critical) junctures.  This book is aimed at a broader readership than his earlier works, but I think that the advantages of having another 100 pages of detail would more than outweigh the drawbacks of a 25% larger book.  The book also, at times, suffers from a lack of sign-posting.  He would do well, at times, to remind the reader of at least the year in which events are occurring—I think the added clarity would outweigh any decrease in flow or pace.  This fact can at times be exacerbated because the chapters are not always chronological.  Flexner has a number of chapters centering on themes (slavery, Indians, north-south relations) that move the narrative backwards in time, rather than forwards.  His chapter titles include years, but additional attention to timeline in the text would be helpful.  (To be fair, the book is 40 years old and the art of popular biography has changed since he wrote this—perhaps I have different preferences than a reader in 1969).

Washington the man is fascinating.  At the open, we can see the man emerge from a Virginia that is a country foreign to the one we live in.  The focus on owning land as the main measure of wealth, hunting for sport, and socializing among the upper classes is right out of a Jane Austen novel.  Virginians were re-creating the society of the landed gentry in England in the New World (think of “well bred” as a compliment for a person, not for a dog).  Out of this Washington emerges as a romantic figure.  He falls in love with Sally Fairfax, another member of the landed gentry, and courts her aggressively.  She marries one of Washington’s friends, but that does not halt the exchange of passionate letters (which continues throughout his life and his marriage to the wealthy widow Martha Dandridge Custis).  He joins the army seeking glory.  He’s disappointed that as a Virginian (and not being from England) he cannot attain a high-ranking officer-ship in the regular army and must join the militia.  His actions in the Seven Years War are rash—he essentially starts the battle that kicks-off this global conflict, and then has a terrible showing later in the war.

After the war he becomes a respectable Virginia gentleman.  He owned the land that would eventually become Pittsburgh.  And he becomes involved in the revolutionary movement as a moderate.  This final point is largely forgotten—it’s not at all clear that Washington saw the need for a permanent break with England when he took command of the Continental Army.  He perhaps thought that the colonies could force concessions from the Crown and repair their damaged relationship.

The importance of Washington’s service during the American Revolution cannot be overstated.  He was beloved by his troops, and from all accounts it appears that he held the Continental Army together, at times with little more than the force of his own will.  What’s interesting is that Washington was a much better leader of men than he was a battlefield tactician.  Throughout the siege of Boston he advocated invading the city.  Luckily, his compatriots (including John Adams) saw this as a suicide mission, and the American’s triumphed in Boston largely as a result of Knox’s retrieval of cannon from upstate New York and the wondrous occupation of Dorchester Heights, a logistical triumph.  His tactical decision making was again disastrous in the Battle of Long Island, but his escape was another logistical wonder.  His powers of leadership kept the Continental Army together through terrible conditions, and his Newburgh Address likely saved republican government in the colonies.

Washington was also a Federalist.  It seems to be popular fashion to portray Washington as above party politics, but he was clearly on one side of the Federalist/Republican divide.  He believed in centralized power.  Washington was a major mover behind the Constitution—his work on new canals and riverine improvements led him to understand the importance of having a central authority to direct projects between the states.  Washington believed in the National Bank—as commander of the Continental Army (and as a cash-poor farmer) he understood the need for a stable, national currency.  And he obviously favored Hamilton over Jefferson.

One final item of note is Washington’s turn away from the south in his later years.  After the presidency, he looked into the future and thought it likely that the two sections of the country might turn away from each other—and if the happened, his intention was to remain with the north.  He also hated slavery—he freed many of his own and made efforts to educate and train his slaves so that they could someday become free individuals.  His actual efforts to mitigate against this horrific institution far outpace those made by Jefferson, a man of much more strenuous rhetoric in favor of liberty.

This was an excellent way to start this project.  Washington is an engaging and inspiring individual, all the more when we learn of his flaws and imperfections, his care and concern for his fellow human beings, and his great anxieties.  He was not the inaccessible, perfect person that one often imagines when thinking of Washington, and that makes him all the more appealing.