Hymns of the Republic: The Story of the Final Year of the American Civil War

by S.C. Gwynne

From the New York Times bestselling and award-winning author of Empire of the Summer Moon and Rebel Yell comes “a masterwork of history” (Lawrence Wright, author of God Save Texas ), the spellbinding, epic account of the last year of the Civil War.

The fourth and final year of the Civil War offers one of the most compelling narratives and one of history’s great turning points. Now, Pulitzer Prize finalist S.C. Gwynne breathes new life into the epic battle between Robert E. Lee and Ulysses S. Grant; the advent of 180,000 black soldiers in the Union army; William Tecumseh Sherman’s March to the Sea; the rise of Clara Barton; the election of 1864 (which Lincoln nearly lost); the wild and violent guerrilla war in Missouri; and the dramatic final events of the war, including Lee’s surrender at Appomattox and the murder of Abraham Lincoln.

“A must-read for Civil War enthusiasts” ( Publishers Weekly ), Hymns of the Republic offers many surprising angles and insights. Robert E. Lee, known as a great general and Southern hero, is presented here as a man dealing with frustration, failure, and loss. Ulysses S. Grant is known for his prowess as a field commander, but in the final year of the war he largely fails at that. His most amazing accomplishments actually began the moment he stopped fighting. William Tecumseh Sherman, Gwynne argues, was a lousy general, but probably the single most brilliant man in the war. We also meet a different Clara Barton, one of the greatest and most compelling characters, who redefined the idea of medical care in wartime. And proper attention is paid to the role played by large numbers of black union soldiers—most of them former slaves.

Popular history at its best, Hymns of the Republic reveals the creation that arose from destruction in this “engrossing…riveting” ( Kirkus Reviews , starred review) read.

Genres: History, Civil War, Nonfiction, American History, American Civil War, War, Military History

395 pages, Hardcover

First published October 29, 2019

About the author

S.C. “Sam” Gwynne is the author of two acclaimed books on American history: Empire of the Summer Moon, which spent 82 weeks on the New York Times Bestseller list and was a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize and the National Book Critics Circle Award and won the Texas and Oklahoma book prizes; and Rebel Yell: The Violence, Passion, and Redemption of Stonewall Jackson, which was published in September 2014. It was also a New York Times Bestseller and was named a finalist for both the National Book Critics Circle Award and the Pen Literary Award for Biography. His book The Perfect Pass: American Genius and the Reinvention of Football, was published in September 2016, and was named to a number of “top ten” sports book lists.

Sam has written extensively for Texas Monthly, where he was Executive Editor from 2000-2008. His work included cover stories on White House advisor Karl Rove, NASA, the King Ranch, football player Johnny Manziel, and Southwest Airlines. His 2005 story on lethal Houston surgeon Eric Scheffey was published in “The Best American Crime Writing, 2006” by Harper Perennial Press. In 2008 he won the National City and Regional Magazine Award for “Writer of the Year.” He also writes for Outside magazine. His articles include a 2011 story about running the remote Pecos River in Texas, a 2012 piece about Bikini Atoll in the South Pacific, where the Americans tested atomic weapons, and a 2017 profile of disgraced cyclist Lance Armstrong.

Prior to joining Texas Monthly, Sam worked for Time Magazine as Correspondent, Bureau Chief, National Correspondent and Senior Editor. He traveled throughout the United States and to England, Austria, France, Belgium, Spain, and Russia to report stories for Time. He won a number of awards for his Time work, including a National Headliners Award for his work on the Columbine High School shootings. He also won the Gerald Loeb Award, the country’s most prestigious award for business writing, the Jack Anderson Award as the best investigative reporter, and the John Hancock Award for Distinguished Financial Writing. He has also written for the New York Times, Harper’s, Los Angeles Times, San Francisco Chronicle, California Magazine, Boston Globe, Dallas Morning News, and other publications.

Earlier books were Selling Money, about Sam’s adventures in the international loan trade, and The Outlaw Bank, about the global fraud at Bank of Credit and Commerce International (BCCI).

Before his career in journalism, Sam was a French teacher and an international banker.

Sam has a bachelor’s degree in history from Princeton University and a master’s degree in writing from Johns Hopkins University, where he studied under the acclaimed novelist John Barth. He lives in Austin, Texas with his wife, the artist Katie Maratta.

From: https://scgwynne.com/author

Reviews

[Faith · Rating 4 out of 5]

I liked the fact that this book dealt with a limited time period, however I enjoy political and sociological history more than military history, so I skimmed over some of the descriptions in this book of battle strategy. I was really drawn into the last third of the book describing Sherman’s March, the final battles of the war, Lee’s surrender, Lincoln’s assassination, the collapse of the Confederacy and Barton’s attempt to identify the Union soldiers who died at Andersonville. There were also interesting biographies and character studies of many characters, including Clara Barton, Lee, Sherman and Grant. Although I have read other books about the Civil War I still learned a lot from this book.

[Emily · Rating 2 out of 5]

I have been waiting to write this review since about page 15 - so finally, here we are.

I hated this book. Didn't quite hate it as much as I'd like to - but hated it all the same. This is saying something, since I'll take about any form of well-written Civil War nonfiction, but wow, no thank you.

Gwynne is a good storyteller and has an excellent, interesting writing voice. The good stops there. He is HORRENDOUSLY pro-Southern - not even subtle about it. He'll share something good about Ulysses S Grant, and then go on to criticize his every move, interpret it in the worst light, comment derisively, and call him just about every unflattering name in the book. Ditto to Meade; ditto to Sherman. Every possible horrible action is dragged out, criticized, interpreted in the light of all that is petty, ugly, and stupid. He makes no allowances for human error; makes no allowance for the imperfection that is all war. There IS no right answer in war; to interpret mistake as malice or incompetence is nonsense. In contrast, the South is practically perfect. Grant is criticized, up, down, ridiculed, second-guessed, stupid, bloodthirsty, uncaring, for every slight error he makes. Of course he made mistakes. Every commander does.

But then - come to Robert E Lee, and holy moly, Gwynne sings syrupy paeans. A token note about his slaves; no mention of the horrid punishments he dealt out, just more of the suffering Marble Man. Same to Mosby. Butter just won't melt in his mouth. Any mistakes are cast lightly aside. The same mistakes that would earn Grant & Sherman scathing, dismissive treatment are so casually, unimpactfully mentioned towards Southerners. Henry Wirz, the commandant of Andersonville, is "not a perfect man," and no more is said of him. This from the one man whose crimes were thought bad enough to merit execution (rightly or wrongly). The gap in standards couldn't be more staggering here. The Union war effort is roundly lambasted at every - single - turn. Meanwhile, Nathan Bedford Forrest, he assures us, couldn't have possibly had anything to do with the Fort Pillow massacre. Had their positions been reversed, you bet Gwynne would have had a slew of criticism for that.

I almost couldn't finish this book, which says quite a bit. In fact, I spent nearly the first half hating this book. Gwynne's redeeming quality is his narrative voice, his ability to tell pretty, colorful stories. He does well introducing facts - for example, he does a nice job taking Chamberlain down a peg or twelve. But overall, he is horribly, glibly biased. I don't believe I would read anything more by Gwynne, for all the accolades he's received for other books. Welcome to the Land of the Lost Cause.

[KOMET · Rating 5 out of 5]

Two weeks ago (November 8, 2019), I had the opportunity to hear the author, S.C. Gwynne, speak about this book at a local bookstore. While I have at best a layman's interest in the Civil War, I was impressed with Gwynne's presentation, so much so that I put in a request with my neighborhood library to check out a copy of the book.

"HYMNS OF THE REPUBLIC" provides an apt and well-written summation of the final year of the Civil War and how it impacted upon the nation (North and South) militarily, politically, economically, and on a psychological level. Gwynne also brings vividly to life the many personalities (military, civilian, and political) who played key and significant roles in a year - 1864 - that began with the appointment of Ulysses S. Grant (the hero of Vicksburg) as Lieutenant General in charge of the Army of the Potomac by President Lincoln, which initially gave the North much cause for optimism that the war could perhaps be won and thus, ensure Lincoln's re-election later in the year. But despite Grant's initial successes against the Army of Northern Virginia (commanded by Robert E. Lee), the war in the East ground into a virtual stalemate by the summer.

As a result of these setbacks on the battlefield (as evidenced by the Battles of the Wilderness, Spotsylvania Court House, and Cold Harbor), Lincoln's re-election prospects dimmed considerably. He felt certain that he was likely to be defeated in November by the Democratic candidate (George McClellan, the erstwhile commander of the Army of the Potomac til Lincoln relieved him of command late in 1862 because of McClellan's failure to mount an effective campaign against the Army of Northern Virginia throughout that year), leading to a likely truce between North and South resulting ultimately in the establishment of the Confederacy as an independent nation. But then the fortunes of war would tilt in the North's favor by the early autumn of 1864.

Gwynne has written a history that reads like a novel comparable in some ways to Thackeray's 'Vanity Fair' with its dramatic sweep. Thanks to him, I learned so much more about why the Civil War continues to resonate in the nation's psyche. After all, it was a conflict that changed us from seeing ourselves as 'the United States are' to 'the United States IS.' That is, as one singular nation of Americans.

[Dax · Rating 4 out of 5]

I was initially disappointed when I heard that Gwynne's latest book would only cover the final year of the Civil War. Gwynne has written some of my favorite nonfiction over the last decade so the thought of him pounding out a doorstopper covering the entirety of the war appealed to me greatly.

Having finished this last night, I understand why he decided to focus on that final year. With 'Hymns of the Republic', we start with the arrival of Grant as the new commander of the Army of the Potomac. With Grant's assumption of power, the dynamics of the war changed dramatically. The casualties climbed exponentially, and the attitude towards the opposing army reached black flag (take no prisoners) levels. It was the bleakest hours of the war- not just for the armies- but for Lincoln himself. And this is what stands out about 'Hymns of the Republic' from other war narratives; it does not solely focus on the military aspect of the war. Gwynne does a wonderful job detailing the political implications of engagements and the deceitful movements of Lincoln's political rivals. This makes for an all encompassing and well rounded understanding of the environment of 1865.

A note on some of the comments here that accuse Gwynne of being a Confederate apologist:

I disagree. He does not shy away from criticizing the performance of Union generals, and it is true that he believes that the Confederates typically performed better on the battlefield with leaders like Lee, Jackson, and Mosby, but he provides evidence and examples of why he feels that way. I see no problem with Gwynne drawing conclusions from materials he has read and research he has conducted on the subject. Sources for those conclusions are provided in the notes and bibliography. This book is not written as a condemnation of the Union Army. It is a well researched and well written account of that final year of the war. He does not shy away from criticizing the Confederates either, particular with Jefferson Davis' delusional leadership and the conditions of Andersonville.

All in all, another excellent effort from Gwynne. If you have not read any of his work, I recommend starting with 'Empires of the Summer Moon'.

[Tom Brennan · Rating 5 out of 5]

Gwynne is quickly working his way onto a very select list of must-read-everything-he-writes kind of historian. I've read more books than I can count/remember about the Civil War but I found this one passing along aspects I had never considered or heard of, and doing so frequently. His discussion of Lee's physical/emotional struggles the last year of the war was enlightening. His description of the fall of Richmond from the standpoint of the people in Richmond is something I will never forget. His discussion of the interplay between Grant and Sherman and Lincoln made me want to read more about men I've read tens of thousands of pages about already. I don't know where he gets it or how he gets it but get it Gwynne does, and dish it out in spades.

If you see a book with Gwynne's name on the cover do yourself a favor - buy it immediately. It's guaranteed good stuff.

[Tad Davis · Rating 3 out of 5]

I have a lot of problems with the book. Gwynne takes a dim view of virtually every decision Grant makes. For example, Grant made much of the fact that to defeat the Confederacy they had to destroy the opposing armies, not the cities. And Grant at Spotsylvania said he would “fight it out on this line if it takes all summer.” Shortly afterwards he pulls the army out of the line and heads south. Gwynne interprets this as a “whim,” a capricious change in strategy. Grant was going to Richmond after all, he says.

No! Grant was trying to get between Lee and Richmond because that was the only way he could pry Lee out of his trenches. His objective was, and remained till the surrender at Appomattox, the destruction of Lee’s army. Surely Gwynne doesn’t think Grant SHOULD have stayed locked in place at Spotsylvania, pursuing the same brute force tactics that had already failed.

Grant has been called a butcher, and Gwynne seems to accept that analysis. I disagree, as does virtually every biographer of Grant in recent years (William McFeely excepted). Once he entered Virginia, Lee lost control of the narrative. He had to go wherever Grant went. Grant basically put him in a box and kept him there and bled him dry.

It’s unpleasant to think about, but he isn’t unique among US generals. Colin Powell once described his own approach to war as: you find out where your enemy is, and you go there, and you kill him.

But my real problem with the book is that the narrative jumps from Spotsylvania to the Crater. I kept going back and forth, thinking maybe the book was missing a chapter. A few pages after the jump, I found a paragraph summarizing what happened between those points. Left out of any detailed discussion were North Anna, Cold Harbor, and Grant’s brilliant crossing of the James before Lee even knew he had moved. The jump breaks the flow of the narrative, and it baffles me. Why did Gwynne give so little attention to Cold Harbor when it so clearly supports his case that Grant was a bad general? Cold Harbor was the worst mistake of his life, and he admitted it.

I was tempted to give the book two stars for these reasons. But I can’t, because the story that Gwynne DOES tell is brilliantly written and captures the horror of that last year better than anything I’ve read. The book, despite its flaws, is well worth reading by anyone with more than a passing interest in the Civil War. Three stars is kind of a compromise.

Footnote: no, I didn’t read the book in a day. I simply neglected to list it in Goodreads until I’d already finished it. Goodreads automatically provided the start date for me.

[Scott Resnik · Rating 3 out of 5]

Solid survey of the final year of the Civil War. However the author’s extreme Southern bias detracts from narrative.

[♥Milica♥ · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.5

[Chris · Rating 5 out of 5]

I’m a big fan of Erik Larson, but S.C. Gwynne has joined him atop my leaderboard. His work is a perfect balance of narrative history & character sketches of the players that made that history. You really feel as though you have met these figures. Loved this work and look forward to what comes next. Would love to see Mr. Gwynne write about the period of reconstruction. Perhaps the last page is teasing that? Still relevant to discussions and problems we are tackling today in my opinion.

[Trevor Seigler · Rating 5 out of 5]

When I was much younger, I was enthralled by the stories of the Civil War. The battles, the generals on both sides, the campaigns and blunders, and the man at the center of the storm who ultimately held his country together even as it was torn apart, only to die mere days after the last guns boomed over Virginia; all of this entranced me. As I got older, though, I lost my passion for such reading. In some ways it was inevitable, especially after I read Shelby Foote's masterful-but-flawed three-volume narrative history and James McPherson's "Battle Cry of Freedom." I was all tuckered out on Civil War tales, and my focus of interest shifted to the history of the period both before the war (when slavery drove the national debate) and after (basically everything to do with Jim Crow). But I found this book to be a good way to return to reading about our most bloody conflict because of its blend of military and social history.

"Hymns of the Republic," by S.C. Gwynne, captures the year from March 1864 (when Grant took command of all Union forces) to April 1865 (when Lee surrendered and Lincoln spent one fatal night at the theater). What the book manages to do very well is to blend the familiar with the unknown, shattering cherished myths in the process and showing how human each of the combatants were. Robert E. Lee is a self-doubting man far removed from the Grey Ghost or Marble Man; Lincoln is a crafty politician who also knows that he'll have to commit himself to the full promise of the Emancipation Proclamation. Grant is a hard-driving man who realizes soon enough that his way won't work if he doesn't change; Jefferson Davis is a stubborn, humorless man whose inability to rally his nation will be his undoing.

Gwynne captures the lives of these larger-than-life figures, as well as those of lesser-known people or non-combatants whose efforts to aid others are forgotten today. But he also shows how Clara Barton found a way to minister to the wounded and also bring comfort at war's end to the families of Union POWs who died behind enemy lines. The advancement of Black soldiers into battle, against the wishes of white officers from both armies, highlights how a war to preserve the Union became a conflict to live up to the ideals of the Declaration of Independence. And in a war that was otherwise of its time, Gwynne shows how both trench warfare and guerilla campaigns predicted the varieties of warfare to be experienced in the next century.

"Hymns of the Republic" caught me by surprise; I expected to like and enjoy it, but it's a very moving portrait of arguably the most pivotal period in American history. The Civil War was far from over in early 1864, and even in the aftermath of Appomattox it could all have changed. But as S.C. Gwynne demonstrates here, history is more complicated than we might otherwise think.

[Michael Beck · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is an excellent history of the last years of the civil war. It covers the blunders of so many inept Union generals which catalogued the early years of the war, to the rise of General Grant and his strategy to end the war at all costs.

[Sean · Rating 4 out of 5]

A beautifully written account of the last year or so of the American Civil War, with a focus on some of the major personalities and events. Four stars; I found it gripping, though it did touch lightly on some important events or skip over them entirely. Not a military history, though not without a fair amount of military history; Gwynne spends a good deal of time focusing on politics, women (in the form of Clara Barton, who in my mind vies with Lincoln as the most impressive figure in the entire story), and African Americans (slave, free, soldier, and one rather remarkable newspaper correspondent). He seems to enjoy highlighting, or at least pointing out, the flaws of many of the war’s most famous men, like Lincoln, Grant, Sherman, and Lee. I found this aspect refreshing and not overdone.
The book is wall-to-wall with highlightable bits, but some things that caught my attention:

• Lincoln had to walk a fine line when it came to slavery. Though not insensitive to the suffering of slaves, he was no proponent of abolition, not least because he couldn’t afford to be: “The subtext here was fully apparent to people of the time: any move to free slaves or to declare that the war was about abolishing slavery would instantly threaten the loyalty of the “border states.” These were the deeply divided, politically explosive slave states that had not seceded: Maryland, Delaware, Kentucky, and Missouri. Lincoln considered them crucial to the Union victory. With their roads, railways, and rivers, the border states were critical as gateways to the deeper South. Their population of 2.6 million white people, half as many as in the entire eleven states of the Confederacy, constituted a deep military recruiting pool that could turn the tide of the war. And the industrial effects of border-state defection were potentially staggering. If Maryland and Delaware alone seceded, the Confederacy’s manufacturing capacity would instantly double. Just how desperate Lincoln was to keep those states in the Union was evident when he suspended habeas corpus—the sacred American right of an arrested person to appear in court and be informed of the charges against him—in Maryland in the war’s first year.”

• By 1864, the material differences between the Union and the Confederate armies had become quite stark: “Lee’s own army lay on the steep, wooded riverbank below him. His men had been there all winter, barricaded into a fortress of earth and timber. Except for a brief and bungled Yankee attempt to cross the river in February, the rebels had mainly been staring at the federal pickets across the Rapidan, waiting for the rains to end and the war to start up again in earnest. Though these soldiers were separated by only a thin ribbon of water, they were in other ways worlds apart. The army in blue on the northern shore was the best-fed, best-trained, best-clothed, and best-equipped fighting force in the history of the world. It was supported by a rapidly industrializing nation with good credit and a ready supply of money. For its troops the preceding months had mostly been snug and happy. “This was the most cheerful winter we had passed in camp,” recalled George T. Stevens, a surgeon with the 77th New York regiment. “One agreeable feature was the great number of ladies, wives of officers, who spent the winter with their husbands. On every fine day… [the] ladies might be seen riding about the camps and over the desolate fields, and their presence added greatly to the brilliancy of the frequent reviews.” The men ate a relatively balanced diet that included pork or beef, dried vegetables and dried apples, onions, potatoes, turnips, cabbage, and pickles, and even soft bread instead of the usual rock-hard biscuits known as hardtack. They had sugar. They had plenty of coffee.”

• To anyone sweating the results of the 2020 election, consider the election of 1864. The election of 1860 had given way to what was already the bloodiest episode in American history, and now the war of several years’ duration hung on the outcome of the balloting. “If the Union lost on the battlefield, Lincoln would lose at the polls, and the man who beat him would be a Democrat elected for the specific purpose of ending the war. Both sides saw it that way. In the war’s new logic, deaths on the battlefield meant votes at Northern polling stations. “Every bullet we can send… is the best ballot that can be deposited against [Lincoln’s] election,” wrote the Daily Constitutionalist in Augusta, Georgia, on January 2, 1864. ‘The battlefields of 1864 will hold the polls of this momentous decision.’ “

• With the election looming, Lee and in particular Grant redoubled their efforts to win the war on the battlefield, or at least use the fighting as a lever to push US voters in their preferred direction, toward either a negotiated peace or toward Lincoln: “Thus as Ulysses S. Grant’s enormous army moved out on the early morning of May 4, all bets were on the table. That same day he put virtually every Union soldier in Virginia in motion, a coordinated set of attacks that had no precedent in the war: he sent one army racing up the James River to threaten Richmond, another pushing south through the Shenandoah Valley to threaten Lee’s supply lines; yet another in western Virginia was to hit critical infrastructure that included railroads, salt works, and lead mines. Grant believed that he had less than six months to defeat the South, and he was wasting no time. Lee felt a similar urgency. Though he had no illusions that he could win the larger war, by defeating Grant now he might make it stop, and possibly on terms favorable to the Confederacy. So everything was at risk. There would be no more of the aimless drift that had characterized the early war: battles here and there to no particular end except holding or taking real estate, which turned out to be pointless exercises. The movement of all that glorious flashing steel on May 4 was the beginning of the finish fight. Grant versus Lee. The nation, which understood that, waited breathlessly to see what was going to happen. “These are fearfully critical, anxious days,” wrote Union diarist George Templeton Strong. ‘The destinies of the continent for centuries depend in great measure on what is now being done.’ “

• The fighting at the end of the war looked precious little like the fighting at the beginning; it looked much more like the fighting on the Marne, complete with trenches, mortars, railroad supply-ways, gigantic mine explosions, stormtroop tactics, and pointless frontal assaults. I’ve often wondered how to view the commanders of the First World War for their inability to deal with the conditions they faced; given that they should have been on notice for fifty years, I’m less inclined now to be understanding: “A change in the soldiers’ behavior had also made the fight far more lethal. Entrenchments had become common in the war. In the first two years they had been used mainly when armies were protecting fixed locations. Later armies built fortifications of wood and dirt when they were on active campaign. But in the Wilderness, and in the series of battles that followed it, the practice of digging in during battle became the rule rather than the exception, and the men quickly refined it to an art. They were like fiddler crabs: whenever they stopped somewhere for more than a few moments, they started digging. Later photographs of Saunders’ Field, one of the few cleared areas on the Orange Turnpike, show that Ewell’s breastworks had rifle pits two feet deep fronted by stacked, mud-chinked logs as much as five feet high. The works went up quickly, too. “Within one hour there is a shelter against bullets, high enough to cover a man kneeling,” wrote one of Meade’s staff in a letter home. “… When our line advances, there is the line of the enemy, nothing showing but the bayonets, and the battle flags stuck on top of the works.”

• So how did we get to trenches and mortars from the neatly formed regiments of the early war? Rivers of blood in the face of massive firepower slowly forced commanders to give way, despite their desire for mobility and their poor command and control: “What mainly drove the new mania for entrenchment was the commanding generals’ conclusion that it was a good idea. By the spring of 1864 there was simply too much evidence showing what happened to men when they made frontal assaults against fortified positions. But the top brass on both sides had come to this consensus only gradually. As early as June 1862, Union forces under George McClellan had built strong defensive works on the banks of Beaver Dam Creek, just east of Richmond, and the eleven thousand rebels who foolishly attacked them had been torn to pieces. A few days later Union soldiers firing from behind fieldworks at Gaines’ Mill had once again inflicted terrible damage. But instead of setting the pattern for future battles, generals on both sides took the reverse lesson. Since McClellan ended up losing the Seven Days Battles to Lee—who had not entrenched—fortifications were seen as either dispensable or possibly not even a good idea. Neither side had entrenched at the Second Battle of Bull Run, though Stonewall Jackson, whose troops fought from behind an unfinished railroad cut, had the perfect opportunity. Lee had not fortified at Antietam, even though he had plenty of time, had his back to the Potomac River, and had fought an almost purely defensive battle.”

• Sherman. One of my favorite figures from military history, he was surprisingly poor at fighting for one of America’s most famous fighting men: “The following day his delayed and terribly coordinated attack failed to accomplish anything except to pile up several thousand Union casualties. The general historical consensus is that Sherman’s failure at Missionary Ridge ranks among the worst battle performances of the war. He had virtually nothing to do with the spectacular uphill attack by Union troops under George H. Thomas that won the battle. The country never heard about Sherman’s failure, which was, as one contemporaneous observer put it, “covered over in thick official reports and misleading histories.”18 Grant simply lied about it, saying in his official report that rebel desperation to stop Sherman had weakened their center and allowed Thomas’s success. This was complete nonsense. Sherman played along with his boss’s flawed analysis, consistently misrepresenting the plan of battle for the rest of his life. He later said that Missionary Ridge “was a great victory—the neatest and cleanest battle I was ever in.”19 It was indeed a great victory. He was at least right about that.”

• Sherman, file under ‘war makes for strange bedfellows.’ “Sherman, the man who supposedly had little time or use for black people, issued what is probably the war’s single most radical order, confiscating property from wealthy slaveholders and designating it for settlement by former slaves. Special Field Orders no. 15 declared that the Sea Islands on the coast of South Carolina and Georgia […] would henceforth be reserved for freedmen. This was land distribution straight from the ultra-Radicals’ playbook. Each family could have forty acres; Sherman would also give them army mules. They would be able to rent the land cheaply with options to buy. By June 1865 some forty thousand African Americans would be settled on the land, all administered by a new federal agency called the Freedmen’s Bureau. The taking had been done under Sherman’s “war powers.” Though part of his motivation was clearly the welfare of black people, Special Field Orders no 15’s main attraction was that it partly solved his own nagging administrative problem: What to do with all of those former slaves?”

• File under "no, they didn't." I'm not sure where Gwynne gets this from, but no one in the Confederacy had access to the recipe for Greek Fire because to this day we still don't have it (though we can make an educated guess about what it contained). Does he mean that they referred to it as Greek Fire? Maybe, and that'd be fine, but he's not clear on this point. I'm sure the agents distributed incendiaries of some sort, but it certainly wasn't Greek Fire. Gwynne notes: "Rebel agents distributed canisters of “Greek fire,” a type of chemical-based incendiary weapon first used by the Byzantine Empire in 672."

• On a personal note, General Hartranft. When I was young, my grandfather died and my grandmother sooner or later began to date a wonderful man named Richard. He used to tell me stories about his time in India during the war, and talk with me about history, travel, archaeology, and all of the things I was interested in. In this vein, he told me about a semi-obscure sect of German protestants that had moved to Pennsylvania in the early 18th century, the Schwenkfelders. His family, the Hartranfts, were descended from Schwenkfelders; one of them fought in the Civil War and later became governor of Pennsylvania – General John Hartranft. I’m not personally related to the man, but whenever I read about him I feel a certain affection for him as though I were. This passage describes Hartranft’s improbable bottling up of a Rebel breakout attempt at Petersburg:

“THE SUN WAS WELL UP in the sky now, giving Union gunners clear targets. General Gordon’s rebel divisions pushed forward anyway, beyond Fort Stedman and the two batteries they had seized and into the unarmored zones behind Union lines. They were advancing toward the Union supply depot. They might have gotten there, too, except for a quick-thinking Union brigadier general named John Hartranft, a soldier’s soldier who had led a famous charge at Antietam in 1862. Now, as he found his superior officer already packed and preparing to move to the rear, Hartranft took charge. He threw the 200th Pennsylvania Regiment at the oncoming rebels. The fight was unfair: a regiment against several divisions. The men of the 200th were badly shot up. They fell back, regrouped, tried again, were again swept by Confederate fire, then retreated again. But they had bought Hartranft time—which he used to build, in short order, a defensive battle line more than a mile long with several thousand more federal troops. By 7:30 a.m. he had effectively boxed in the entire rebel advance. Because their reinforcements never arrived, the Confederates never had enough men to bust through Hartranft’s brilliantly organized secondary defenses. Just before 8:00 a.m. he launched his counterassault, and soon federal lines were closing on Fort Stedman from three sides. “The whole field was blue with them,” recalled a Georgia captain.”

[Socraticgadfly · Rating 2 out of 5]

Kind of typical Gwynne book. Highly uneven. Not as bad as Rebel Yell, but not good.

In the first 30 pages, he has:
1. Twisted Lincoln’s slave-related actions of the first two years out of context, including trying to make him into an abolitionist at the start of the war;
2. Absolved, or at least partially absolved, Forrest of Fort Pillow, when the truth is that, by the laws of war, Forrest, as commander of troops in the field, was responsible for the massacre by failure to prevent it even if he didn’t order it. (To the degree Gwynne does acknowledge any blame for Forrest, it’s in a footnote.
3. Absolved Forrest of Fort Pillow again by assuming that his original surrender offer to the Union garrison included black troops that Forrest may not have been aware were part of the garrison, or even if he were aware, assuming that they were covered under “troops”

Gwynne in the next 100 pages then pens great psychological vignettes of Grant and Lee. On Lee, I wonder if he stayed in the military to stay away from his wife, after reading this.

And then? Errors. No, Arlington is not part of DC and never was. The Treasury, under Chase or whomever, might have been the top Cabinet job for higher-dollar patronage, but the Post Office was for everyday job patronage. Errors of interpretation like the latter? OK, that's more on the author. But, bad copy editing lets in the former.

That said, he mentions General and Congresscritter Frank Blair attacking Chase on the floor of the House, but fails to mention his brother, Monty Blair, was .... Postmaster General!

Speaking of that, he never covers some of Lincoln's larger political moves involving his Cabinet. Like booting Monty as part of a quid pro quo for Fremont ending his campaign.

Then, more great stuff, on Sherman. Not so much the psychological profile, unlike with Grant and Lee, but a straightforward note that he wasn’t that good of a field commander. He’s totally right that Thomas’ corps, not Sherman’s, won Missionary Ridge.

That said, we next get back to questionableness. Although the battles of Franklin and Nashville weren’t important strategically, and Wilson’s ride through Alabama might be too overlooked elsewhere, to not give the Nashville campaign more than a paragraph is criminal. Maybe more criminal, given that Gwynne does cover infighting between generals at times, is not looking at how much Grant through Thomas under the bus as part of running Sherman up the flagpole.

Then, it’s back to good stuff. The Petersburg-to-Appomattox chapters, though much shorter than, say, “Nine Days to Appomattox,” has a couple of great vignettes, above all the picture of Meade’s attempt at glory-hogging.

Had Gwynne not opened with Fort Pillow AND with his particular take on it, I might have given this a fourth star. But, the way he did begin left too much of a bad taste in my mouth. And, thinking more about how much he overlooked on the Cabinet tussles and other things, I dropped it another star because at 4 1/3 stars average rating, it's overrated.

[Gregory Jones · Rating 5 out of 5]

I picked up this book because I had read Gwynne's work on the Comanche Empire and wanted to see what he had to say about the Civil War. This was, in a word, superb. Gwynne writes with clarity and precision that is quite rare in Civil War historiography. His use of anecdotes is sparing enough to keep the prose interesting, while his incisive commentary cuts right to the heart and meaning of these iconic moments.

Far too often with books like this, the reader either ends up skimming the surface of a complex issue or miring in the muck of something too complicated to slog through in a single volume. Gwynne has struck the delicate balance with this book in a way that very few historians are skillful enough to accomplish. If Gwynne had decided upon a career as a history professor rather than a journalist, his writing would make for lively, frenetic, and engaging lectures.

I found a lot to like in the book from both military and cultural historical perspectives. It balances the "great man" arch with Grant, Lincoln, and Sherman well with the "boots on the ground" look at several moments in 1864 and 1865. What I found most impressive, though, was the way that Gwynne included historical characters like Clara Barton and the hundreds of thousands of African American soldiers who participated in the war in a way that didn't feel forced or contrived. It was genuine, paying homage to the people who helped to turn the tide of the war.

If I ever have an opportunity to teach a Civil War seminar again, I will definitely assign this book. The use of high-quality scholarly support for his claims while maintaining a bright and moving prose makes this one of the finest history books (not just Civil War) that I have read in the past few years. I highly recommend it and will be advising others to read, utilize, and enjoy this formative book.

[Christina Dudley · Rating 5 out of 5]

Another wonderful book from S. C. Gwynne. I knew, from reading EMPIRE OF THE SUMMER MOON 3x that Gwynne is a great storyteller, insightful and even-handed and humorous, even, and these qualities showed up again. (Lincoln's description of Genl Phil Sheridan had me giggling.) If you find all things Civil War fascinating, which I pretty much do, this is more than a worthwhile read.

As the subtitle makes clear, the book covers roughly the last 14 months of the war, kicking off with Grant's arrival in Washington, D.C., to take charge of the Union armies, and ending with Clara Barton touring the graves of the former Andersonville prisoner-of-war camp. Of course it covers territory familiar from countless other Civil War histories and biographies, but Gwynne usually always brings some little perspective or tidbit I hadn't heard of before, like why the Wilderness was such a wilderness--second-growth mess after iron production operations had chopped down and used all the old-growth forest. And it's always fun to beat up on George McLellan, Copperhead Democrats, and political infighting.

Thank you to the publisher for the chance to review this book. (Note, at location 3760, "Union soldiers" should be "rebel soldiers." And, at location 4111, "subordination" should be "insubordination.")

[Jerome Otte · Rating 4 out of 5]

An accessible and compelling work.

There’s not much new material, and Gwynne seems to have relied mostly on secondary sources. The narrative mostly focuses on the eastern theater (especially Virginia), opening with the Overland Campaign and ending at Appomattox. He ably covers a broad range of subjects, such as trench warfare, the horrors of Civil War medical practices, the experience of civilians, the politics of slavery, policies toward the border states, the evolution of “hard war,” the impact of emancipation, and the importance of black troops. Gwynne’s writing is vivid and graphic. He does a good job describing how events on the battlefield influenced events elsewhere. His coverage of the people is mostly evenhanded and he succeeds at bringing them to life.

The narrative is clear and well-organized, but some readers may find the book too brief for such a big subject, or that the coverage of battles is too cursory. Gwynne also writes of Grant being a “butcher” during the Overland Campaign, although recent scholarship has challenged this (he never accuses Lee of being a butcher) He is also critical of Sheridan’s destructive policies in the Shenandoah, but never connects it to the strategy Sheridan had in mind. Some readers may find that too much of the book focuses on Virginia.

Still, a well-written and well-researched work.

[Casey · Rating 4 out of 5]

As with other books that I have read by the author this one is well written and researched. He takes a very different viewpoint from others that I have read about this same time period during the American Civil War. He chooses to basically state that the well known leaders of the year Grant, Lee, Sherman and Lincoln were all seriously flawed and nowhere near the heroes that they have been presented by others. A reader must remember that this is the author's opinion and reality is most likely somewhere between his opinion and others.

I recommend this book for those looking for an alternative view of the last year of the American Civil War.

I received a free Kindle copy of this book courtesy of NetGalley and the publisher with the understanding that I would post a review on Net Galley, Goodreads, Amazon and my nonfiction book review blog. I also posted it to my Facebook  page.

[Jim · Rating 5 out of 5]

Every single presidential election of my lifetime has somehow been "the most important election in our lifetimes," where "everything is on the line." But SC Gwynne shows us definitively that there has only ever been one election where America was at a life or death crossroads: 1864 - Lincoln vs. McClellan. I was 100% certain of how this election played out before I read this book, yet I felt the pressure of just how much the results at the time seemed to hinge on every newsworthy moment in the war.

Gwynne - an excellent storyteller (his book Rebel Yell is one of my all-time favorite Civil War books) - walks you through that election and all of the other storylines of the last year of the conflict.

There is a lot here that won't be new to someone who enjoys reading about the Civil War, but Gwynne is not trying to write a history as much as he is weaving the parts into one story. Long after you finish this book you will remember the Union soldiers being buried in Robert E. Lee's former front yard, "Walter Scott disease," and all the incompetent Union generals.

There are a lot of better history books that cover this material (Chernow's Grant is a good example) and there are better books about the politics of this period (Goodwin's Team of Rivals for example), and there are better "a year in the Civil War" books (Goodheart's 1861). But Gwynne is one of those authors where you buy the book because you know it's going to be a great story.

[Hannah · Rating 5 out of 5]

4.5 stars.

This is my first American Civil War novel, I tend to stick to WWII.

Well thought out and researched. Very emotional at times

[Brian Willis · Rating 3 out of 5]

"In some important ways the North bore even more responsibility for slavery than the South" (318 footnote). Then, a couple of sentences about mercantile profiting off of slave labor.

SERIOUSLY? The equivalent of "there were fine people on both sides."

While well researched with a sure syntactical style that makes this book a good read, dozens of judgements like these mar this book on the final year of the war (ie Spring 1864-Spring 1865).

Gwynne focuses on stories of atrocity. We get it. "War is cruelty" as Sherman said. And yes, those stories are pitiful for the victims. But of course, when your objective is to pummel your opponent and WIN, the moral judgements of Gwynne are intrusive. Were they supposed to be nice? Most obvious is the bio chapter on Grant. Basically, repetition over and over that he was a pre-war failure and - oh - did you know that he was an alcoholic? FIVE pages on that iteration despite a complete lack of evidence that it was an extraordinary issue. Despite the consensus among historians that his "problem" was sporadic and that Grant was a functional General that won the Civil War and served two terms as President with no anecdotal evidence from world leaders on his post-Presidency tour that he ever over imbibed to the point of embarrassment, Gwynne revives this chestnut to make the point throughout this book that the Yankees were bad boys too. Sherman was cruel, Lee can be forgiven for his allegiance to the South and refusal to free his slaves, and "oh, poor Lee" because his property was confiscated by the Union when he was in open rebellion against them, poor Southern civilians when the same destruction of an invaded land is COMMON STRATEGY THROUGHOUT HISTORY (see ancient Greek history, Julius Caesar, hell - 1945 Germany during World War II), but because this book focuses on the victors victorious, during their triumph, they become the bad guys simply to be contrarian.

Don't get me wrong. This is a good book. Not a great one. But I have serious objections from a number of evaluations from Gwynne about how awful the "Yankees" were. This is the final year of a war that had already seen TWO major and repulsed invasions of the North by the Rebels, but we are supposed to be critical of the Union that they pursued an end to that war after years of setbacks? So many moments like that throughout this book.

Nonetheless, strategy and the overall narrative are well covered, as are the absolute brutality of the war. This final year most certainly presaged the trench warfare of World War I. I just would have liked to see more far ranging primary documents and a more understanding and humane depiction of Mary Lincoln's mental illness rather than dismissing her as "difficult" and depressed. Unnecessary side swipes with a lack of understanding for Mary and Grant. We also don't get much of a diverse perspective for civilians and slaves other than a generalized depiction of how they must have felt according to the author.

Perhaps the author had drawn too close to his previous Civil War subject, Stonewall Jackson, when he decided to write this book?

[Zach Witzig · Rating 5 out of 5]

Category (5/5)

Overall (5/5)

I love books on history and latch on quickly when finding a new good one. Hymns of the Republic was great because it provided an overarching view of every single relevant thing that happened in 1864/1865 during the last year of the war. Well-written because it covered key events that were happening at the same time and the impact those events had on each other and future events.

New Things I learned:
- For the first few years of the war Lincoln wasnt necessarily anti-slavery. Through many conversations with abolitionists like Fredrick Douglass he was convinced later on on how key of a point that was and why slaves needed to be freed.

- If Sherman hadnt made it down to Atlanta in sept 1864 and captured it, there was a really good chance Lincoln was not going to get re-elected and therefore the odds of the Union maintaining the full throttle it was at that point was unlikely to continue.

- So much of the war and horrible battles could have been avoided by the ineptitude of (mostly) Union generals. Personal pride and being scared of failure caused so many generals to disobey direct orders (mostly from Grant) and actually caused so much more loss.

- So many people didn't enjoy being around Mary Todd Lincoln that one of the primary reasons the Lincolns were alone the night he got assassinated was because General Grant and his wife and the other key members of the cabinet declined the invitations due to not wanting to be around MTL. Grant held a lot of guilt about not being there that night and potentially preventing the assassination for the rest of his life.

Lots and lots more. General Lee was an all-time great strategist and amazing solider. His ability to predict and read his opponents moves ahead of time was incredible.

Loved this book - took my time with it and read a chapter or so a day and just enjoyed learning about a major year of our history. It is really sad that Lincoln wasnt able to help spearhead the US into the next era then, as it probably could have been a lot better.

[Tyler Raymond · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was a fascinating book. As someone who thought they knew a lot about the Vivian war given my education and military background this was very eye opening. I really liked that it focused on a specific point in the war. It shed light on confederate and Union generals and their varying approaches to the war and I think the author did a great job of keeping it factual and “a” political. It was a difficult read at times but definitely kept my interest. Would recommend and truly a must read by Americans to understand this critical time in our nations history.

[Tyler Critchfield · Rating 4 out of 5]

I feel like the Civil War is one of those topics that's important to revisit regularly. I liked how this one only covered the final year of the war, similar to how McCullough's 1776 covers a single year. It let the author go deeper on certain events and individuals that often get passed over in larger histories.

[Joseph · Rating 5 out of 5]

Although told from a Southern viewpoint, I found this book to be very interesting. The author takes up the story of the final year of conflict and weaves a well balanced tale full of triumph and heartache. The best part of the book, in my opinion, was the description of the days leading up to the final surrender at Appomattox Court House. A very good read!!!

[Mike · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book looks at the final year of the Civil War, but that is used mainly as an outline to allow the author to write about the backgrounds of various people and events in each chapter. Overall I enjoyed the read and did feel like I learned a bit (I want to read more about Clara Barton now), but I don't think there was much here that was new.

[Stan Prager · Rating 5 out of 5]

Review of: Hymns of the Republic: The Story of the Final Year of the American Civil War,
by S.C. Gwynne
by Stan Prager (3-16-21)

Some years ago, I had the pleasure to stay in a historic cabin on a property in Spotsylvania that still hosts extant Civil War trenches. Those who imagine great armies clad in blue and grey massed against each other with pennants aloft on open fields would not be wrong for the first years of the struggle, but those trenches better reflect the reality of the war as it ground to its slow, bloody conclusion in its final year. Those last months contained some of the greatest drama and most intense suffering of the entire conflict, yet often receive far less attention than deserved. A welcome redress to this neglect is Hymns of the Republic: The Story of the Final Year of the American Civil War, by journalist and historian S.C. Gwynne, that neatly marries literature to history and resurrects for us the kind of stirring narratives that once dominated the field.
Looking back, for all too many Civil War buffs it might seem that a certain Fourth of July in 1863—when in the east a battered Lee retreated from Gettysburg on the same day that Vicksburg fell in the west—marked the beginning of the end for the Confederacy. But experts know that assessment is overdrawn. Certainly, the south had sustained severe body blows on both fronts, but the war yet remained undecided. Like the colonists four score and seven years prior to that day, these rebels did not need to “win” the war, only to avoid losing it. As it was, a full ninety-two weeks—nearly two years—lay ahead until Appomattox, some six hundred forty-six days of bloodshed and uncertainty for both sides, most of what truly mattered compressed into the last twelve months of the war. And, tragically, those trenches played a starring role.
Hymns of the Republic opens in March 1864, when Ulysses Grant—architect of the fall of Vicksburg that was by far the more significant victory on that Independence Day 1863—was brought east and given command of all Union Armies. In the three years since Fort Sumter, the war had not gone well in the east, largely as the result of a series of less-than-competent northern generals who had squandered opportunities and been repeatedly driven to defeat or denied outright victory by the wily tactician, Robert E. Lee. The seat of the Confederacy at Richmond—only a tantalizing ninety-five miles from Washington—lay unmolested, while European powers toyed with the notion of granting them recognition. The strategic narrative in the west was largely reversed, marked by a series of dramatic Union victories crafted by skilled generals, crowned by Grant’s brilliant campaign that saw Vicksburg fall and the Confederacy virtually cut in half. But all eyes had been on the east, to Lincoln’s great frustration. Now events in the west were largely settled, and Lincoln brought Grant east, confident that he had finally found his general who would defeat Lee and end the war. But while Lincoln’s instincts proved sound in the long term, misplaced optimism for an early close to the conflict soon evaporated. More than a year of blood and tears lay ahead.
Much of the battle tactics are a familiar story—Grant Takes Command was the exact title of a Bruce Catton classic—but Gwynne updates the narrative with the benefit of the latest scholarship that not only looks beyond the stereotypes of Grant and Lee, but the very dynamics of more traditional treatments focused solely upon battles and leaders. Most prominently, he resurrects the African Americans that until somewhat recently were for too long conspicuously absent from much Civil War history, buried beneath layers of propaganda spun by unreconstructed Confederates who fashioned an alternate history of the war—the “Lost Cause” myth—that for too long dominated Civil War studies and still stubbornly persists both in right-wing politics and the curricula of some southern school systems to this day. In the process, Gwynne restores the role of African Americans as central players to the struggle who have long been erased from the history books.
Erased. Remarkably, most Americans rarely thought of blacks at all in the context of the war until the film Glory (1989) and Ken Burns’ docuseries The Civil War (1990) came along. And there are still books—Joseph Wheelan’s Their Last Full Measure: The Final Days of the Civil War, published in 2015, springs to mind—that demote these keys actors to bit parts. Yet, without enslaved African Americans there would have never been a Civil War. The centrality of slavery to secession has been just as incontrovertibly asserted by the scholarly consensus as it has been vehemently resisted by Lost Cause proponents who would strike out that uncomfortable reference and replace it with the euphemistic “States’ Rights,” neatly obscuring the fact that southern states seceded to champion and perpetuate the right to own dark-complected human beings as chattel property. Social media is replete with concocted fantasies of legions of “Black Confederates,” but the reality is that about a half million African Americans fled to Union lines, and so many enlisted to make war on their former masters that by the end of the war fully ten percent of the Union army was comprised of United States Colored Troops (USCT). Blacks knew what the war was about, and ultimately proved a force to be reckoned with that drove Union victory, even as a deeply racist north often proved less than grateful for their service.
Borrowing a page from the latest scholarship, Gwynne points to the prominence of African Americans throughout the war, but especially in its final months—marked both by remarkable heroism and a trail of tragedy. His story of the final year of the conflict commences with the massacre at Fort Pillow in April 1864 of hundreds of surrendering federal troops—the bulk of whom were uniformed blacks—by Confederates under the command of Nathan Bedford Forrest. The author gives Forrest a bit of a pass here—while the general was himself not on the field, he later bragged about the carnage—but Gwynne rightly puts focus on the long-term consequences, which were manifold.
The Civil War was the rare conflict in history not marred by wide scale atrocities—except towards African Americans. Lee’s allegedly “gallant” forces in the Gettysburg campaign kidnapped blacks they encountered to send south into slavery, and while Fort Pillow might have been the most significant open slaughter of black soldiers by southerners, it was hardly the exception. Confederates were enraged to see blacks garbed in uniform and sporting a rifle, and thus they were frequently murdered once disarmed rather than taken prisoner like their white counterparts. Something like a replay of Fort Pillow occurred at the Battle of the Crater during the siege of Petersburg, although the circumstances were more ambiguous, as the blacks gunned down in what rebels termed a “turkey shoot” were not begging for their lives as at Pillow. This was not far removed from official policy, of course: the Confederate government threatened to execute or sell into slavery captured black soldiers, and refused to consider them for prisoner exchange. This was a critical factor that led to the breakdown of the parole and exchange processes that had served as guiding principles throughout much of the war. The result bred conditions on both sides that led to the horrors of overcrowding and deplorable conditions in places like Georgia’s Andersonville and Camp Douglas in Chicago.
Meanwhile, Grant was hardly disappointed with the collapse of prisoner exchange. To his mind, anything that denied the south men or materiel would hasten the end of the war, which was his single-minded pursuit. Grant has long been subjected to calumnies that branded him “Grant the Butcher” because he seemed to throw lives away in hopeless attempts to dislodge a heavily fortified enemy. The most infamous example of this was Cold Harbor, which saw massive Union casualties. But Lee’s tactical victory there—it was to be his last of the war—further depleted his rapidly diminishing supply of men and arms which simply could not be replaced. Grant had a strategic vision that set him apart from the rest. That Lee pushed on as the odds shrunk for any outcome other than ultimate defeat came to beget what Gwynne terms “the Lee paradox: the more the Confederates prolonged the war, the more the Confederacy was destroyed.” [p252] And that destruction was no unintended consequence, but a deliberate component of Grant’s grand strategy to prevent food, munitions, pack animals, and slave labor from supporting the enemy’s war effort. Gwynne finds fault with Sherman’s generalship, but his “march to the sea” certainly achieved what had been intended. And while a northern public divided between those who would make peace with the rebels and those impatient with both Grant and Lincoln for an elusive victory, it was Sherman who delivered Atlanta and ensured the reelection of the president, something much in doubt even in Lincoln’s own mind.
There is far more contained within the covers of this fine work than any review could properly summarize. Much to his credit, the author does not neglect those often marginalized by history, devoting a well-deserved chapter to Clara Barton entitled “Battlefield Angel.” And the very last paragraph of the final chapter settles upon Juneteenth, when—far removed from the now quiet battlefields—the last of the enslaved finally learned they were free. Thus, the narrative ends as it has begun, with African Americans in the central role in the struggle too often denied to them in other accounts. For those well-read in the most recent scholarship, there is little new in Hymns of the Republic, but the general audience will find much to surprise them, if only because a good deal of this material has long been overlooked. Perhaps Gwynne’s greatest achievement is in distilling a grand story from the latest historiography and presenting it as the kind of exciting read Civil War literature is meant to be. I highly recommend it.


I reviewed Their Last Full Measure: The Final Days of the Civil War, by Joseph Wheelan, here: https://regarp.com/2015/07/13/review-...

The definitive study of the massacre at Fort Pillow is River Run Red: The Fort Pillow Massacre in the American Civil War, by Andrew Ward, which I reviewed here: https://regarp.com/2015/02/02/review-...


My latest review & podcast ... Review of: Hymns of the Republic: The Story of the Final Year of the American Civil War, by S.C. Gwynne https://regarp.com/2021/03/16/review-...

Podcast only … https://www.podbean.com/eu/pb-37w9t-f...

[John Drawbaugh · Rating 5 out of 5]

4.75 stars! Really enjoyed this one and everything else I’ve read from SC Gwynne

[Kayla · Rating 4 out of 5]

With thanks to Net Galley and the publisher for allowing me to read this ARC!

Those readers who gravitate toward Civil War history always welcome the sight of a new book about the era – but may also approach said book with considerable wariness, wondering what can be left to say. Happily, S.C. Gwynne’s Hymns of the Republic not only creates new connections between familiar episodes of the struggle but creates them in beautiful and accessible language. Students, especially, will benefit from the sense of excitement that infuses the prose the makes one eagerly turn pages. Short chapters further contribute to making the complex material easy to navigate; the armies of Meade and Grant might get lost in the Wilderness, but the readers of this text will not!

The author also makes these distant events modern and exciting in a way that seems to pay tribute to the Civil War fiction of Ralph Peters. The reader is thrust into combat, forced to face down “horrors of spurting blood, spilling intestines, and exploding heads,” – an image not often conveyed by the staunch stateliness of the memorials in our parks and on our battlefields. Imagery is the great strength of this work; by layering sensory details (the nickering of horses, violets blooming on the roadsides, bloodied puddles), the author transports the reader to the scene – whether that scene is Lee surveying Federal troops from a mountaintop, the wounded left in warehouses as a new route is dictated for ambulances, African Americans fleeing the slaughter at Fort Pillow.

The end of the war turns is full of amazing stories – and lessons. Gwynne examines a shift in the treatment of civilians during wartime, the changing goals of the war (now fought for Union and to abolish slavery), fears about alienating border slaves and freedmen flooding Northern labor markets, the grim mathematics of casualties, and how the Emancipation Proclamation helped to deprive the South of manpower. Grant’s reputation is bolstered as readers learn that he was valued for his stick-to-itiveness and resolution to move forward. Other chapters address the importance and deadliness of trenches, battlefield theology, the legend and psychology of Lee, and “spiritual casualties” – men who no longer wanted to fight. The trials facing black soldiers, especially, are thoughtfully illuminated. These issues unfold against the backdrop of well-known battles and make them seem real and immediate in a way that other accounts that I have read have not. Also made real and brought to life are Lincoln’s fears regarding reelection, guerilla warfare, Sherman’s theorizing, and the radical shift in the North from despair to hope. Most amazing of all is the fact that some well-loved stories turn out to be just that – and, yet, we have appreciated them and retold them over the years. The way we recount the Civil War may well tell us something about ourselves as a nation. With tellers as gifted as Gwynne, the story is likely to be spun out for a good long while yet!

[Kathy · Rating 4 out of 5]

I've read well over a hundred books about the Civil War -- and yet I learned new facts and gained a whole slew of new insights from this one.

Although it is billed as a book about the last year of our four-year Civil War, Gwynne seamlessly weaves in enough background about the years leading up to that final year that even those who don't know a lot about the Civil War will not find it hard to follow. Indeed, the book reads like a novel and was so hard to put down that I read it in one weekend.

I was particularly struck by Gwynne's evocation of the hopelessness that Northerners felt in the summer of 1864, and how truly precarious were Lincoln's chances of re-election that fall... and thus, how close the Union came to losing the war, since Lincoln's opponent intended to appease the Confederacy in order to end the war. It was a dicier situation than most Americans now realize, and history would have been very different indeed had not Gen. Wm. T. Sherman taken Atlanta... in the nick of time.

Gwynne also excels in his vivid portrayals of the experiences of soldiers who were wounded in battle and/or taken prisoner. Their suffering is unimaginable for us, but Gwynne makes it more imaginable. It will break your heart.

But this book will also inspire and uplift you. You'll grasp new dimensions of famous figures -- the stubbornness of Clara Barton; General Sherman's dazzling way with words. You'll get a feel for how fragile was the hinge on which Union victory often depended; often all that stood between victory and the permanent splitting of our country was quick thinking and bold action by some heroic individual we've never heard of. You'll marvel at the dedication of black Union soldiers despite ongoing abuse by their own fellow soldiers.

The book's shortcomings are few. There were some embarrassing errors that a decent copy-editor should have caught. Gwynne is, I believe, unfair to Ulysses Grant. But these were minor flaws in an otherwise brilliant book.

You couldn't make up a story as glorious and as tragic, as full of paradox and urgency, as the story of our own country during its greatest trial. S.C. Gwynne tells it as the thrilling narrative that it is.

[Tim Armstrong · Rating 2 out of 5]

A very interesting topic but an ultimately disappointing execution. The author's blatant pro-Southern bent infects this book from the start and it really hampers his ability to tell the story of the final year of the American Civil War. The notable commanders on the Union side (Grant, Sherman et al) are portrayed as extremely flawed or stupid people who could only win the war because they ultimately had more men and material while Confederate leaders (this author loves to pray at the alter of Lee; Forrest and Mosby are treated particularly well) are honourable men fighting their honourable cause. It's a tired and incorrect way to approach this topic and has been thoroughly debunked by better histories of the war.

The author's assertions about what actually happened during the surrender at Appomattox were interesting albeit face saving for the South. The Union generals come off as gloating idiots while the Southern generals come off as stoic, honourable men. It just all a bit off, and reading a different, perhaps less biased account of the events in this book would be beneficial to anyone interested in this interesting time in history. A disappointing book to say the least.