Nigel
Hamilton is one of America’s least conventional and most interesting
historians. His landmark, three-volume study of Franklin Roosevelt’s
military leadership, “FDR at War,” offers extraordinary insights into
the battles between American and British military leaders during World
War II and makes a strong case that Roosevelt was a better strategist
than Winston Churchill. His “American Caesars,” a series of short
biographies of the American presidents from FDR to George W. Bush,
provides an astonishing amount of insight and information in easily
digestible form.
In
his latest book, “Lincoln vs. Davis: The War of the Presidents,” Mr.
Hamilton analyzes the first two years of the American Civil War. The
story of America’s national epic has been recounted many times. Mr.
Hamilton manages to keep his eye on the larger strategic questions even
as he probes the day-to-day shifts in the military, diplomatic and
political realities the two leaders scrambled to grasp. The book offers
insights that will surprise even readers who know their Civil War
history in depth.
Jefferson
Davis, Mr. Hamilton argues, was much better prepared for wartime
leadership than Abraham Lincoln, and up through his decision to allow
Robert E. Lee to invade the North in what became the Maryland Campaign
of 1862, Davis consistently outfoxed the untutored, indecisive newbie in
the White House. Trained at West Point, familiar with combat from his
experience in the Mexican War and seasoned through his years as a
senator in Washington, including a stint as secretary of war, Davis had
the more presidential résumé and, in the beginning, a better sense of
how to fight a war that he never expected the Confederacy to win.
The
book’s portrait of Lincoln is less flattering. Abraham, as Mr. Hamilton
somewhat disconcertingly calls him, made military decisions on impulse,
and his impulses were generally wrong. Mr. Hamilton tells us that
Lincoln bungled the siege of Fort Sumter, then issued a panicky call for
troops that led Virginia, North Carolina, Tennessee and Arkansas to
join the Deep South cotton states to form a much more formidable
Confederacy. He picked poor generals and allowed the worst of them,
George B. McClellan, to bully him. His order to the Union Army to
advance into Virginia led to the disastrous First Battle of Bull Run.
His acquiescence in McClellan’s scheme to attack Richmond, Va., from the
Chesapeake led to the humiliating losses of the Peninsula Campaign.
Worst
of all, in Mr. Hamilton’s view, Lincoln handled the issue of slavery
too timidly. Most notably, he forced Gen. John Frémont to withdraw a
proclamation freeing the slaves of those engaged in armed rebellion
against the United States. Frémont’s reasoning, that military necessity
would provide a legal justification for freeing the slaves of rebels,
would later inform Lincoln’s own approach to the slavery question.
Nevertheless, Lincoln, concerned about driving other still-loyal
slaveholding states, and especially Kentucky, into rebellion, slapped
Frémont down.
Mr.
Hamilton sees this decision as a major blunder, one that furthered the
South’s effort to win diplomatic recognition from the European powers
and disheartened the North. Lincoln’s defenders will reply that the
border states and Northern Democratic opinion were not yet ready for
such a revolutionary step and that Lincoln’s restraint on emancipation
early in the war was the wiser course.
But
it is the Confederate duo of Jefferson Davis and Robert E. Lee that, in
Mr. Hamilton’s view, made the greatest blunder of the first two years
of war. Early in the war, Davis was pessimistic about the South’s
chances. With a smaller population, a sparser rail network and fewer
munitions factories, the South would have to fight a defensive war.
After Bull Run, when hotheads urged Davis to attack Washington, the
Confederate president wisely demurred. But Lee’s aggressive temperament
and brilliant early successes against Union armies tempted Davis into
abandoning his caution. He allowed Lee to go ahead with his plan to
invade the North, an invasion that culminated in the Battle of Antietam,
the bloodiest day in American history.
In
Mr. Hamilton’s telling, that invasion, and Lee’s bombastic and
ill-advised proclamation calling on the citizens of Maryland to join the
Confederacy, constituted a decisive shift in the war. Invading the
North cast the Confederacy as an aggressor. The reluctance of
Marylanders to join Lee’s ragged army reassured Lincoln that
emancipating rebel slaves would not precipitate more secessions. And the
combined impact of the Confederate defeat at Antietam and the
Emancipation Proclamation would stymie those in Britain and France who
hoped to recognize the Confederacy and perhaps even intervene in the
war.
Not
all readers will agree with Mr. Hamilton’s arguments. As to the wisdom
of Frémont’s emancipation initiative, Northern Democrats were, barely,
willing to fight a bloody Civil War for the Union. They were not ready
in 1861 to fight and die to end slavery. And behind Lee’s desire to
invade the North was his—and Davis’s—awareness that the status quo was
working against the South. By the time Lee started the march to
Antietam, almost the entire Mississippi River was back in Federal hands,
and Tennessee, the source of much of the Confederacy’s food supply, was
increasingly under Union control. The Union blockade, meanwhile, had
cut off the South’s access to the weapons and supplies it desperately
needed. Lee’s gamble at Antietam, like his later, larger gamble at
Gettysburg, may have failed, but the belief that only a major victory on
Northern soil could avert Southern defeat was not unreasonable.
Be
that as it may, “Lincoln vs. Davis” is a book that both scholars of the
Civil War and casual readers will enjoy. It also reminds us of the
immense difficulties Abraham Lincoln had to overcome—not least his own
inexperience—as he learned to lead a fractured Union to victory in the
bloodiest war ever fought on American soil.
Mr. Mead is the Journal’s Global View columnist.