Today, Albion Tourgee is best known as the lawyer for Homer Plessy in the suit of Plessy vs. Ferguson (1896), which, despite Tourgee's best efforts, instituted the "separate but equal" standard in American law. Before that, Tourgee was a union soldier and "carpetbagger" who went to Greensboro, North Carolina to improve his health and help protect the new Republican government. He became disillusioned with the enterprise, however, and his cri de coeur is this thinly-veiled novel, "A Fool's Errand," originally just signed "By one of the fools."
Unlike some historians to come, Tourgee was not disillusioned about Reconstruction because of the horror of corrupt "carpetbagging" governments, run by supposed "ignorant" freedman, but because he thought the North never understood how hard it would be to fight the racial bigotry of the South and truly reconstruct it in a new modern form.
Although the book can become preachy and political, it often exhibits a keen eye for the peculiar mores of the South, both in their good and bad variations. The book recounts a wonderful encounter between Colonel Servosse (the Northern hero), his wife, and Judge Squire Hyman, who absent-mindedly peruses some "abolition" books the Northerners had on their shelf, and tells them he is curious to read them, since such books were banned before the war. The Northerners are shocked that he could have consented to have books banned, but Hyman sees it all as logical self-defense of what they regarded then as a sacred institution. Hyman later notes that he is featured in one of those books, for helping beat two Methodist ministers preaching against slavery. He's as friendly as can be with the "abolitionist" Servosses but sees no contradiction in this, since such beatings were just necessary "protection" of the community, and were in no way personal. Again and again, such as when the Ku Klux Klan decides to kill Servosse and fails, and then many of those same members later rush to his side during his illness, the author notes the peculiar violent and impersonal ideas of the South, combined with its strangely touching and personal relations.
Likewise, Tourgee has a good eye for the condition of the freedmen, who often strive to establish a firm economic independence, but know they must rely on the might and wealth of the local whites. When one blacksmith caters to other blacks and learns to read and assist them in voting, the Ku Klux Klan whips him, and he is so used to such abuse that he hardly seems horrified by it. The author knows that the combination of centuries of abuse of the blacks and centuries of command by the whites meant that such relations could not be easily severed.
Much of the book shows how the desire to reestablish white supremacy corrupted the institutions of the South, from the judiciary to the press, since the old institutions could only be recreated through pervasive falsehoods and lies. When the local Klan kill the "radical John Walters" and stuff his body in a box in the courthouse, the local press claims that he must have been killed by angered black allies, or at worst by intruders from another county, when they know as well as anyone it was locals. When the black reverend Jerry Hunt overhears two whites describe the murder, though, he also hears them almost come to blows because one of them has continuing qualms about such extra-legal murder, and the other knows that no qualms can be allowed if the Klan is going to triumph. Bit by bit, the white South lied, cheated and killed to force a false victory, one which even the victors knew corrupted their country.
At the end, the book descends into a poor melodrama involving the local son of gentry and former "Kluxer," Melville Gurney, and his efforts after Lily Servosse's hand, along with bald pontificating from Servosse about the South's upcoming problems. But, overall, it offers much to ponder about the nature of the Civil War and the failure of its aftermath, and offers a peculiar image of the South in some of its darkest moments.