It would have been difficult for Bruce Catton to top the first two books of his Civil War trilogy, but he manages to put out yet another piece of high quality writing. Never Call Retreat, the concluding chapter of this nuanced look at a war which ran up a butcher's bill north of 600,000 Americans, is nothing short of outstanding.
Never Call Retreat starts out telling the story of the Army of the Potomac's defeat at the Battle of Fredericksburg. Any loss for the North was bad for morale, but this defeat was particularly gut wrenching when Fredericksurg's proximity to Washington is taken into account. Desperate for good news from the battle front, President Lincoln once again was given the opposite of positivity.
Following on the heels of this was yet another Virginian debacle for the Union, this time delivered at the Battle of Chancellorsville. This Confederate victory, however, was quite costly for their own side's morale: Stonewall Jackson would be unintentionally shot and killed by one of his own men during the fury of battle. These wins were among the top moments for Robert E. Lee as head of the Confederate army; Southern military dominance would not long endure.
The bumbling nature of the Army of the Potomac prior to the arrival of Ulysses S. Grant was underscored throughout numerous defeats/failures to follow up on victories; General Joseph Hooker's at times dysfunctional relationship with General Henry Halleck only compounded the frustrations that began with George McClellan's failure to win a swift victory at the war's outset.
Once again, Catton does not overlook the importance of western operations to the Civil War's ultimate outcome. Based in the Tennessee theater, General William Rosecrans's troops were in a critical position to hold off the South's efforts, led in that arena by General Braxton Bragg, to gain a lasting foothold.
Interestingly, one of the generals underneath Bragg was John C. Breckinridge, the former U.S. vice-president-turned-rebel-turncoat. New Year's Day 1863 in the Western theater began with the back and forth between these men's Southern and Federal troops during the Battle of Stone's River, a conflict which turned from a surefire Confederate victory into what was considered to ultimately be a technical loss. Despite the stealth attacks of Confederate cavalry leader Joe Wheeler, Rosecrans stared defeat in the face and, according to Lincoln, gave the Federals a "hard-earned victory which, had there been a defeat instead, the nation could scarcely have lived over."
This western theater "W" was followed up by possibly the biggest one of all: Grant's siege and taking over of the Southern fort at Vicksburg. The trouble he went through to force General Pemberton to surrender it was monstrous; utilizing William Sherman's troops, the Union forces slowly worked their way west through Mississippi, facing tough fighting against the rebel army as they made progress toward Vicksburg. Despite setbacks, the effort to take over the fort on the Mississippi River was ultimately a success. It represented the only portion of the Mississippi River still controlled by the Confederacy; once this fell to Grant in July 1863, the South was cut in half.
Vicksburg was joined on nearly the same day that July by the Union's victory at the Battle of Gettysburg, a bloody clash in southern Pennsylvania which served as the costliest battle (in terms of casualties) of the war.
Always willing to roll the dice and wanting to follow up on victories at Fredericksburg and Chancellorsville, Robert E. Lee felt that a rebel presence in an undeniably Union state would cause a fearful Northern public to beg for terms of surrender. The battle-culminating in George Pickett's suicidal charge on a position staked out by Union troops-was part of a one-two gut punch (alongside Pemberton's surrender of Vicksburg) that turned the tide of the war.
True to form in the eastern theater, the Union Army (this time under George Meade) failed to follow up on Gettysburg by trapping Lee's army on its way out of Pennsylvania and back through Maryland, leaving a knockout follow-up to the big win sitting on the table. Despite this, the remainder of the war would steadily turn in the North's direction. Boasting superior numbers, a better industrial base, and finally some momentum, the South would slowly be ground down by the better-positioned federals. Despite scoring a victories Chickamauga, Cold Harbor, and some lesser battles, the war after mid-1863 would turn in the North's direction.
Wanting to ensure that his Emancipation Proclamation, issued as a war measure and made public after the Battle of Antietam, was set in stone, Lincoln pushed for a constitutional amendment banning slavery as the war wound down. This would go on to become the thirteenth amendment.
He also tried an experiment, unpopular with the Radical Republicans, at reconstructing the Southern states in a not-excessively-vengeful manner. Federally occupied portions of Louisiana would be a guinea pig for Lincoln's ten percent plan, whereby a state could rejoin the Union if they outlawed the practice of slavery and ten percent of their electorate pledged support for the Union. Looking toward the rebuilding of the south after the war and the remade country that would inevitably come out of the ashes of it, Lincoln wanted to reconcile with the South instead of brutally punishing it for secession. It was too bad no one told John Wilkes Boothe this, as his killing of Lincoln actually moved the balance of power away from Lincoln's more moderate postwar approach and into the hands of the Radicals.
Little anecdotes here and there keep the narrative moving, and the story of Clement Vallandigham makes for a fascinating tale. Vallandingham was an Ohio lawmaker furious with what he perceived to be the stomping on the Constitution engaged in by Lincoln and the Republicans; a war they claimed was being waged to save the Constitution was, through habeus corpus suspension and suppression of free speech, ruining it according to the judgment of Vallandigham and the Copperheads he represented. The authorities did little to erase his fears; General Ambrose Burnside, commander in the theater that encompassed Vallandigham's state of Ohio, jailed Congressman Vallandingham for "discouraging the war effort." Lincoln would eventually intervene to ensure he was not imprisoned as a martyr, but he spoke for a portion of the Northern electorate unhappy with a war they felt was being waged by inappropriate means.
Copperheads like Vallandigham would ultimately nominate George McClellan as their candidate in the 1864 presidential election. Running as a War Democrat willing to compromise with the South, the demoted Army of the Potomac commander (and fierce Lincoln critical all the while) was unenthusiastic about freedom for African-Americans, while at the same time unwilling to see secession used as a tool to settle disagreements. He would be willing to reach a deal to prevent the former while punishing the latter.
McClellan would be crushed by Lincoln at the ballot box, delivering a verdict in the negative on their anxiousness to settle with the Confederacy. This defeat, however, was probably not the low moment for their movement; furious over how the draft was set up, a number of New Yorkers would riot during the summer of 1863, targeting African-Americans (people they partly blamed for the draft's necessity following Lincoln's announcement of emancipation as a primary war aim) and those they associated with aiding the Northern war effort. The rioters would even burn down a black orphanage in their fury; the violence would be quelled by Union Army members on their way back from the Gettysburg battlefield.
In addition to those of the North, Southern leaders are given ample coverage by Catton as well. Confederate vice-president Alexander Stephens is painted as a unique man, constantly digressing from Jefferson Davis's decisions and rarely holding back when it came to voicing his strong opinions. Davis himself comes across as too inflexible to be a successful wartime leader, demonstrating flashes of leadership but in the end unable to do the near impossible of rallying the South to victory. At the conclusion, the willingness of men like Robert E. Lee to surrender and not allow the war to continue as sporadic guerrilla warfare after Appomattox preserves some semblance of statesmanship on the part of men engaged in treason against their country's government.
Grant's willingness to not be petty at Appomattox, allowing Lee to surrender with some form of dignity, mirrored the treatment of Joe Johnston's men after his surrender to William Sherman in North Carolina a little later in April 1865. Sherman would actually be criticized in the northern press for being too lenient on Johnston's men, an interesting side note considering few Georgians would have considered him too kindly toward the South after his March to the Sea.
The final quarter of the book details the Confederacy's downward trajectory. With Ulysses S. Grant brought east to oversee the Army of the Potomac's operations, the North finally has an aggressive leader in place who will do what it takes to gain an all-out victory (the nickname Unconditional Surrender Grant did not exist out of whole cloth). The horrible fighting at the Battle of the Wilderness, part of Grant's campaign toward Richmond, was written about in captivating detail by Catton; fighting in the densely forested portion of Virginia gave the Confederates an advantage, as it would any military fighting essentially a defensive war on their own ground. Despite this, Grant's men are able to overcome setbacks on their way to a bruising victory over the Army of Northern Virginia.
The strong leadership Grant gave the Army of the Potomac was juxtaposed against the reaction some had when they first saw him; expecting a brawny, brash general, many were surprised when they first met Grant to see him as an unassuming, no-airs man. Ultimately he would lead the capture of Petersburg, then Richmond, causing the Confederacy to see the writing on the wall. Phil Sheridan's cavalry raids into the Shenandoah Valley had left the South's valuable supply lines in shambles, and William Sherman's sacking of Georgia demoralized the South even more. Secretive peace talks between Lincoln and agents from the South reach full force as Grant moved in on the Confederate capital, and things would be all but official when Lee and Grant came face-to-face at Appomattox.
Catton wrote this trilogy to enlighten his readers on the horrors of the Civil War, and he maintained a larger view of the conflict aside from just battle movements and casualty totals. The larger meaning of the war-a remaking of the country and a change in the war Americans viewed the meaning of freedom-was never lost sight of. This trilogy earned its place in the upper echelon of Civil War historical narratives.
Andrew Canfield Denver, Colorado