Major General John Schofield

This year marks the 150th Anniversaries of some of the Civil War’s most iconic engagements. The sesquicentennial of Chancellorsville and Stonewall Jackson’s death has just passed, while the Vicksburg and Gettysburg commemorations are in the future, followed by Chickamauga. Yet focusing on any one event over others obscures some of the key historical currents that run through this period of the war.

The 7-month period that started May 1, 1863 saw events and blood-lettings unlike any previous time-frame in American history. At the end of November, the United States had a better feel for how victory (and the resulting new Union) would be defined.

To grasp the forces at play, the best thing to do is start toward the beginning of the campaign season and look forward from that perspective. If we were to pause time on May 11, 1863, what would we find? A brief survey shows numerous global conflicts. China is undergoing its own rebellion, and a little-known general named Charles Gordon is within weeks of rising to fame; Poland is rebelling against Russia; the French are overthrowing Benito Juarez in Mexico; Europe is sliding closer to war as Otto von Bismarck works to unify the German Empire; and the United States continues to fight itself in the largest war between 1815 and 1914.

Otto von Bismarck

On May 11, both the Union and the Confederacy are assessing the Union defeat at Chancellorsville in Virginia. This engagement was the bloodiest battle in U.S. history up to that point with over 30,000 casualties of all kinds, losses which ripple across North and South. The mortal wounding of Stonewall Jackson has thrown the Confederacy into deep mourning. Chancellorsville has also infused the victorious Confederate commander, General Robert E. Lee, with a belief in the invincibility of his troops.

In Mississippi, on May 11 U.S. Major General U.S. Grant’s Army of the Tennessee is setting out for Jackson, aiming to cut Vicksburg off from the rest of the Confederacy and either take the city by storm or starve the garrison into submission. Vicksburg is the strongest Confederate outpost yet held along the Mississippi River; if it falls, the Confederacy effectively will be cut in two.

Neither side yet knows it, but the events of this summer and fall of 1863 will have a profound impact on the war and the nation. Here’s three of the major themes that emerge from this period:

UNION VICTORIES: The Confederacy receives a body blow in early July from which it will never fully recover. The four Union victories consummated during this period (Gettysburg on July 3, Vicksburg and Tullahoma on July 4, and Port Hudson on July 9) place the Confederates on the strategic defensive for the rest of the war. Confederate efforts to stem to blue tide ultimately fail in and around Chattanooga in the fall. It is too much to say the South was doomed after this (they have a real chance to win in 1864 by ruining Lincoln’s reelection), but the Union assumes an ascendant strategic posture from this point forward.

DEATH AND DEFINITION: Within 100 days, the three bloodiest battles of the Civil War (Chancellorsville, April 27-May 6, 1863; Gettysburg, July 1-3, 1863; and Chickamauga, September 18-20, 1863) all occur. Cumulatively, they total 118,000 casualties, a concentrated bloodletting unequaled in U.S. military history until the 20th Century. The casualty lists lengthen at smaller battles like Brandy Station, Port Hudson, Tullahoma, Knoxville, and Chattanooga. Add in the 29,000 Confederates surrendered to Grant at Vicksburg, a larger number than he took at Appomattox, and the number grows further.

This vast human destruction burns the four largest battles of this period (Chancellorsville, Gettysburg, Vicksburg, and Chickamauga) into the national psyche forever. The latter three of them are among the first battlefields preserved and the most extensively monumented by veterans. All four are among the most visited battlefield parks today. The bloodletting also inspired a national search for meaning, which is answered in Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address in November 1863.

Major General John G. Parke

RISE OF UNION LEADERSHIP: In addition to being a national turning point, this period brings forward the U.S. leaders who are destined to play important roles in crushing the Confederacy. Some of them have been prominent in lesser positions, but now are stepping into senior roles for the first time. Several of these new stars will be key leaders for the U.S. Army throughout the rest of the 19th Century. A partial list of those who rise in the summer and fall of 1863 includes: U.S. Grant, William T. Sherman, Winfield S. Hancock, James B. McPherson, George G. Meade, Edward O.C. Ord, Henry W. Slocum, George H. Thomas, Jefferson C. Davis, Oliver O. Howard, John M. Schofield, John G. Parke, Philip H. Sheridan, Wesley Merritt, Andrew A. Humphreys, Gouverneur K. Warren, and George A. Custer.

As the nation commemorates the events of the summer and fall of 1863, we should remember these three themes, for they set a stage for the rest of the war and beyond.

First, a quick note that Chris Mackowski appeared on the May 17 edition of Civil War Talk Radio, hosted by Gerry Prokopowicz. Chris talked about the book he and Kris White co-authored on the battle of Fredericksburg, Simply Murder.

But even cooler is the fact that we’re pleased to welcome Edward Alexander and Chris Kolakowski to Emerging Civil War.

Edward Alexander is the Education & Interpretation Specialist at Pamplin Historical Park in Petersburg, Virginia. A 2009 graduate of the University of Illinois, he has also worked with Fredericksburg & Spotsylvania National Military Park and the Illinois Department of Natural Resources.  Read more about Edward on his author page.

Christopher L. Kolakowski is Director of the General George Patton Museum of Leadership at Fort Knox, KY. He is the author of numerous articles on various aspects of military history, and two books on the Civil War. He lives in Louisville, KY. Read more about Chris on his author page.

Edward is going to be able to bring us some great perspectives from south of the James, and Chris will be able to bolster our offerings on the Western Theater. (Poor Zac Cowsert, as ECW’s version Albert Sydney Johnston, has had to almost single-handedly cover the vast territory of the west; fortunately he’s been far more successful, although just to be safe, we won’t let him go to Shiloh.)

Jack Humphries, a good friend of Emerging Civil War, was kind enough to serve as man-on-the-scene reporter for us and send back a few pictures. “I’m happy to share this very rare display,” Jack said—and we’re grateful to him for it.

The second national flag was first unveiled May 1, 1863 because the first design was too frequently confused for the United States flag on the battlefield. By the time the flag redesign was approved, the Confederate battle flag had come into use, so its design was incorporated into the new national colors. The white field gave it the nickname “The Stainless Banner.”

In turn, though, the Stainless Banner got a facelift. As the stories go, the white field was too often mistaken for a flag of surrender, so a red bar was added down the vertical edge opposite the St. Andrews Cross. The new design was adopted in March of 1865.

The particular flag on display at the Museum of the Confederacy first flew over the Virginia State House, which also served as the Confederate capitol. Then it covered Jackson’s casket, beginning with the state funeral events in Richmond and staying on it through Jackson’s burial in Lexington on May 15.

“It is much larger than I expected,” Jack said, “probably due to the fact that it was originally made to fly over the Capitol, then pressed into service as a funeral flag.”

Jack adds that a stop at the Museum of the Confederacy would certainly be worthwhile for anyone passing through Richmond this summer. “While the Jackson/ 2nd National Flag won’t be on display, you ought to visit,” he says. “The new exhibit is ‘They Walked Through Blood,’ featuring the battle flags of 8 VA regiments from Pickett’s division that were captured during the July 3 charge and returned through Congressional legislation early in the last century.”

As the victorious Union army began to muster out at the close of the war, veterans now faced the task of assimilating back into civilian life. But what of the weapons they faithfully carried?

On May 29, 1865, Lieutenant General Ulysses S. Grant wrote Secretary of War Edwin M. Stanton, “I understand that great numbers of soldiers going out of service are very desirous of retaining their arms by paying for them. As the government has now a great surplus of arms I would suggest that an order be published authorizing all soldiers who desire to do so to retain their arms by paying the value to the Ordnance Department, or by having them charged on their muster-out rolls.” The department determined the following prices: muskets – $6, Spencer carbines – $10, all other carbines – $8.

The majority of soldiers still carried the muzzle-loading rifle musket, but this weapon had already peaked as the primary infantry small arm. As it took nine steps—and twenty seconds—to load a single shot, the laborious process served to force the soldiers to conserve their power and concentrate their fire. The Ordnance Department feared that issuing repeating weapons—like Spencer carbine—to the amateur volunteers who composed the majority of both armies would result in fewer well-placed volleys and more random spraying of lead downrange, especially as earthen fortifications began to mark the battlefields. Only infantry units whose own officers could procure advanced small arms or cavalry who required breech-loading weapons in the saddle benefitted from the improved models. Grant’s orders mostly concerned the Springfield and Enfield muzzle-loaders.

Reactions varied to his decision. “I considered [it] very unjust, almost an insult to the veterans who had served their country so faithfully,” remembered Sergeant James T. Ramer of the Seventh Minnesota, “[that] they would make him give almost half a month’s wages for the gun that he had fought battles with and had carried through heat and cold and storm, at times on half-rations or less—the arm by which he had saved the country from destruction and restored it a better and stronger nation than it ever was before. I thought then and still think it was an outrage.” But it was a “most generous act” according to Private Henry Roback of the One Hundred and Fifty-second New York. “One thousand days we had the old army musket by our side. Now it was ours.” A member of the Twenty-first Wisconsin jubilantly responded to news of the surrender by smashing his rifle against a tree, bringing about a fine from his officer. “I have carried that rifle for nigh three years,” he boasted, “I don’t know how many Johnnies it has hit, or knocked over. It has done its part. I will gladly pay Uncle Sam for the rifle, for the good news is worth that to me.”

All told, veterans only purchased approximately 138,000 small arms and 20,000 pistols. “Not many chose to,” remarked Private Wilbur Fisk of the Second Vermont. “They never wanted to see one again.” For others the administrative paperwork was just another delay in finally being able to return home. “If I had been able to go to the ordnance department and go through the red tape performance which was required I should have kept my gun and accoutrements as I have wished many times since that I had done so,” wrote Private William Wiley of the Seventy-seventh Illinois, “but I was so badly played out.” Those who declined the offer turned their arms in as well as their colors and equipment with the proper authorities in their home states before their final discharge. Knapsacks, haversacks, and canteens could be kept without charge.

After the Union volunteer armies demobilized, the reorganized Regular Army began converting the Springfields into breechloaders now firing a metallic cartridge. The War Department occasionally attempted to profit on their outdated models, offering them up in mass at surplus auctions. Francis Bannerman of New York recognized the market for these collectibles and his firm purchased as many as possible. Eventually he became one of the largest military dealers in the world with a store that doubled as a museum stretching a full block on Broadway.

The government sold additional surplus to foreign nations, other commercial firms, and friendly native tribes. By 1870, U.S. arsenals contained 1,151,088 serviceable small arms. Events in Europe would nearly cut that number in half. Following the start of the Franco-Prussian war on June 30, 1870, the French government turned to the United States—dealing specifically with E. Remington and Sons—to mobilize their levee-en-masse units. Like the U.S. War Department, French leadership determined the simple models to be best suited for their untrained citizen-soldiers. Of the 468,219 weapons disposed of by the U.S. arsenals from 1870-1872, 413,319 were Enfields or Springfields.

Additional improvements during the last decades of the nineteenth century rendered the main combat arm of the Civil War infantryman an obsolete relic of the past. Yet thousands have lasted through today and can still be seen in many of the museums devoted to that conflict. Catch such a glimpse and in the eyes of Private Roback you are looking at an item whose value is “greater than the highest work of art America ever produced.”

————

For additional reading see:

Hess, Earl J. The Rifle Musket in Civil War Combat, Reality and Myth. Lawrence: University Press of Kansas, 2008.

Lord, Francis A. “Disposal of Post-war Surplus.” Civil War Times Illustrated 6, 10 (1968).

A lesser known part of the Chancellorsville campaign is the battle that swirled around Salem Church on May 3rd and 4th, 1863.  

The church saw use as shelter for refugees from the Battle of Fredericksburg in December 1862 and as a field hospital in May 1863.

Damage from the battle can still be seen inside and outside of the church.

See more photography from Kathleen Logothetis

The 150^th commemoration of Chancellorsville has been stirring up excitement at Fredericksburg and Spotsylvania County National Military Park over the past two weeks. A similar event takes place every five years or so, but until now the largest celebration was the 100^th anniversary. During the opening ceremony on the first of May, 2013, John Hennessey pointed out that we are no longer celebrating but rather commemorating the events that happened here. Back in 1963, the anniversary was viewed as celebratory; but today, rather than host parades and grand spectacles, we turn to more solemn thoughts and actions. “We are a remembering people,” said Hennessey. How we choose to remember, though, has changed significantly.

In 1961, just a year into Centennial celebrations, there was pressure to call the whole thing off. The USA faced a new era of civil war and this time there were no question about the reason: race. The Civil Rights movement was in full swing by the early 1960s, and the Centennial was on a crash course with that movement from the very start. On the 100^th anniversary of the firing on Fort Sumter, South Carolina held a giant celebration complete with fireworks. Unfortunately, a grey cloud hung over the festivities: Madaline Williams, an African American representative from the New Jersey Centennial Commission, was denied the same accommodations as her fellow white representatives. From this point forward, the Centennial, whether deliberate or not, found itself at the center of the Civil Rights debate.

In addition to the Civil Rights movement, the National Civil War Centennial Committee faced other issues. The reenactment of the First Battle of Manassas, while enjoyed by the public, received overwhelmingly negative reviews from the media. They considered the event disrespectful; after that, little hope was left for the rest of the Civil War Centennial Committee’s plans.

By 1963, though, tempers had calmed, and public’s focus turned to the Battle of Chancellorsville. Plans were in the works to open a brand-new visitors center on the Chancellorsville Battlefield; this attracted the attention of locals as well as those living outside Virginia.

Anniversary festivities were planned to begin on May 5, two days after the fighting in 1863 would have ended. Similar to the reenactment of Manassas that occurred on the 100^th anniversary, Chancellorsville organized a large celebration featuring the opening of the new visitors center. Attending the dedication ceremony were several dignitaries, including a U.S. senator and a House representative. The event might not have made national headlines, but in addition to the opening, the event included a concert, an art contest, and entry into three historical homes. A museum car called the “General” was on display, the Lee-Jackson marker was rededicated, and a single tour was given of the Chancellorsville battlefield.

The program of events left out several of the aforementioned activities, including the tour, suggesting that the focus was not to remember the battle but to keep minds focused on the present.

Fast forward to this year’s event in the park. The 8-page program of events nearly quadruples 1963’s version. Each day saw multiple tours, some occurring simultaneously. It might seem that we are celebrating even more now than in 1963, but I personally didn’t feel that way. We embraced the idea of commemoration and created a program that reflects the respect this bloody landscape deserves.

Looking back at newspaper articles from May 1963, I paid special attention to the photographs to get a sense of the atmosphere. The large banners, balloons, and grand stage of 1963 have been replaced by a simple podium. It is in these differences that a celebration becomes a commemoration. Fifty years ago people remembered the Civil War, but the hopes that a nation could come together and remember as a whole fell to the wayside as plans hit unexpected roadblocks. In 2013, we felt the excitement of what was to come, but at the same time remained reserved. Plans were laid out in a way that allowed for solemn remembrance. Instead of a parade, the park saw a group of people come together to share the story of what happened 150 years ago, and as one visitor commented to me, “Isn’t it amazing to see everyone here appreciating our history?” It is remarkable to think of the nation’s progress over the past 50 years. At no point during the commemoration did I pick up any sense of division among those who attended.

But why has our method of remembrance changed since 1963? The past 50 years has seen an evolution in both the general culture of this country and the interpretation of history; the way we choose to remember the Civil War reflects these changes. Perhaps the largest reason things have changed is because of the significant strides made from the Civil Rights Movement. The advancements that have come about because of the Civil Rights Movement have allowed us to move toward a different type of interpretation. In 1963 we were interpreting the Civil War, and while we are still interpreting the civil war, we also have a new chapter to consider. As historians, we have a duty not only to interpret historical events, but show how those events effect our present. We have to be able, as interpreters, to show the linear path that makes up our history and be able to explain how past events influence how we see the world today.

A second reason our remembrance has changed is because of the resurgence of the Civil War enthusiast. In 1957, when the Civil War Centennial Committee was formed, one of their main goals was to invoke a sense of excitement for the festivities. The Civil War, while still regarded as a significant event in our history books, did not have the following it currently does. The Civil War was a dark time in our country and a time many would have preferred to forget rather than commemorate. This notably was because some who were choosing to remember were also using it as a way to push their own agenda, and most did not want to be associated with that. So, in an effort to gain visitors and to provoke remembering our past, the centennial was planned in such a way that would ensure people to take notice, i.e. parades and fireworks. If anything, a celebration was bound to get some form of attention, much more so than tours of a battlefield.

Now 50 years later, the number of “history buffs” has grown and there is a sense of wanting or needing to keep our history fresh in our minds. Most have come to realize the forgetting the past won’t solve anything but rather complicate things.

Let me clarify that I do not wish to elevate one program above the other. In a comparison of the two, there are obvious differences. This does not necessarily mean that one was right and the other was wrong. We must remind ourselves and our visitors daily that we live in a different time, and as such it is impossible to fully understand how our ancestors felt and what motivations drove their actions. However, a speaker at the 100^th anniversary, Dr. James Robertson, reminds us that we might not be so different after all: “We gain constant reassurance by remembering the avenue of heartache that has marked our nation’s rise to greatness. This building and these grounds are a shrine to American unity and freedom. May we ever hold them as such by cherishing the valor of those who surmounted courageously the challenge of their time.”

John Hennessy echoed Robertson’s words two weeks ago when he said, “This week, on the 150^th anniversary of the Battle of Chancellorsville, we remember not just as individuals, but as a nation. We reflect not just on the acts and loss of participants – acts both noble and harsh, as war always is. We also reflect on our nation’s winding, complicated, difficult road to where we are.”

Sherman’s Bummers

On November 15 1864, Sherman began marching south, dividing his army into two wings. On November 22, a large (4,500) group of Confederate soldiers under General Pleasant J. Phillips met part (1,500) of the right wing of Sherman’s troops, commanded by General Charles C. Walcutt. The Battle of Griswaldville ended so badly for the South–94 Union casualties and losses versus 1,123 Confederate–that Confederate troops initiated no more major conflicts. Instead, they tried to anticipate Sherman’s line of march, working ahead of the Union forces and wreaking their own brand of havoc in front of Sherman’s men. In an attempt to slow the Union juggernaut, bridges were burned and wrecked, trees were felled across roads, and barns with provisions and fodder were burned before Sherman had a chance to use them.

Not that the Union was innocent of inflicting harm. Far from it! Union soldiers

Those famous “neckties”

unsparingly raided farms and plantations, stealing foodstuffs and personal possessions, slaughtering cows, chickens, turkeys, sheep, and hogs. Stores of molasses and sorghum, beehives, and untold numbers of sweet potatoes were “foraged liberally” by both officially authorized foragers and those men who simply felt that the early bird should get his share of the worm. One Iowa soldier in the Seventeenth Corps wrote home, “I think a katydid, following our rear, would starve.”

There are stories of wanton, unnecessary destruction on the part of Union soldiers, but they fall far short of war crimes, unless pianos are considered victims of war. An Ohio infantryman wrote his family about such a musical instrument being removed from one Louisville, Georgia, family home. “One fellow played on the piano while his comrades danced a jig on top of the instrument and then he drove an axe through it.”

Judson Kilpatrick

Serious and discomforting as these sorts of anecdotes are, they do not meet the criteria for being war crimes. However, reports made to General Sherman by cavalry commander General Judson Kilpatrick were more alarming. A letter from an Ohio cavalryman states that, “On the first of December, three men belonging to the regiment were murdered.” Another letter from a soldier in the 79th Pennsylvania reported that, “Rebels captured our Brigade Q(uarter) M(aster) and three men, shooting them all, some of them with their throats cut from ear to ear.” General Kilpatrick had put several such reports in his official correspondence with Sherman, who monitored the situation, but did not respond to the cavalry chieftain until Thursday, December 1, 1864.

Joseph Wheeler

Kilpatrick had been informing Sherman of even more instances of the murder and mutilation of his men after they had been taken prisoner. Sherman considered this to be, perhaps, anecdotal evidence, but he could not ignore the increasing number of incidents being reported. Sherman wanted to be certain that, before he issued any sort of retaliatory order, Kilpatrick had communicated his concerns to Confederate cavalry commander General Joseph Wheeler. Once Kilpatrick had alerted Wheeler, should he obtain substantial proof that Rebel soldiers were committing any excesses, Kilpatrick would receive official approval to retaliate. Sherman’s command, in such a circumstance, was: “You may hang and mutilate man for man without regard to rank.”

This communication puts Sherman clearly on the edge of the modern definition of war crimes, but in context, it does not cross that line. Sherman’s due diligence concerning waiting and monitoring the situation, the insistence on the notification of Wheeler about his concerns, and finally his clearly-voiced response–”man for man”–do not indicate approval of wholesale slaughter of an enemy combatant based on rumor or innuendo.

Prior to arriving in Savannah (Sherman’s actual destination was kept secret until the last possible moment), Sherman ordered an investigation of conditions at Millen, where Camp Lawton had been built. Camp Lawton was supposed to replace Andersonville Prison, but the approach of Sherman’s Left Wing had forced its evacuation. What Federal soldiers found inside the compound that had once housed Union prisoners of war both sickened and angered the men who saw it. David Anderson, of the 19th Michigan wrote: “We found the bodies of several of our men lying unburied in this loathsome den; consigning them to the parent earth, our bugles sounded, and falling in line, solemnly and sadly we moved away.” Upon hearing of the conditions in which prisoners had tried to exist, some failing, Sherman was angered. His verbal instructions to General Frank Blair, commander of the Seventeenth Corps, “was to make the destruction (of Millen) ‘tenfold more devilish’ than he ever dreamed of, as this is one of the places they have been starving our prisoners.” However, the letters and notes of Sherman’s aide, Major Henry Hitchcock, printed as Marching With Sherman: Passages from the Letters and Campaign Diaries of Henry Hitchcock, Major and Assistant Adjutant General of Volunteers-November 1864-May, 1865, clearly indicate that nothing more was done at Millen than was done at any other town; the government buildings were burned, the arsenal was fired, supplies were looted, and a hotel (not normally a legitimate target, but perhaps an accidental one) was burned.

By mid-December, Fort McAllister had been taken by the Federals and there was only Savannah left with which to deal. Forage had been poor for several weeks, as the Confederates removed everything they felt would aid Sherman, and torched what could not be carried. A siege is never anything other than painful, but on December 21, 1864, Savannah surrendered. General Sherman presented the capture of the city to President Lincoln as a “Christmas present.” In less than four months, the American Civil War would be over. However, there was unfinished war crimes business to be dealt with, for there were at least two men who had performed such unforgivably atrocious acts that it was nationally recognized that some sort of action must be taken against them.

The least known of these two men is Samuel “Champ” Ferguson, a Confederate guerrillawho operated outside any laws. He admitted to killing over 100 people, mostly civilians, whom he deemed sympathetic to the Union. He was also suspected of killing several wounded cavalrymen from the 5th U. S. Colored Cavalry. He was tried for fifty-three murders, and convicted. He was hung on October 20, 1865, in Nashville.

The better known case is that of Captain Henry Wirz, commandant of the notorious Andersonville Prison. Court records accuse him of, “willfully and traitorously . . . combining, confederating, and conspiring . . . to injure the health and destroy the lives of soldiers in the military service of the United States . . .in violation of the laws and customs of war.” To read the transcript of Wirz’s trial is a sickening endeavor for most, but the transcript makes clear that, even in the middle of the nineteenth century, there were “laws and customs” that could not be breached, even in a war. Wirz was convicted and hung on November 10, 1865.

Wirz Execution

No one has yet proved that the overall intent of Sherman’s March to the Sea was to do anything other than end the war. If it took creating a warlike atmosphere deep in the Confederacy to make the South understand that they could not win a war of attrition, then the powers in Washington agreed–ending the war was paramount. Sherman’s work in Georgia was destructive and sometimes brutal, but it did what it was planned to do–end the war. If war was hell, then “total” war was total hell.

Major Hitchcock, who began the March with a lack of confidence in Sherman’s tactics and in Sherman himself, sums up his complete turnaround to becoming a supporter of his general:

This Union and its Government must be sustained at any and every cost. To sustain it, we must war upon and destroy the rebel forces–must cut off their supplies, destroy their communications . . . and produce among the people of Georgia a thorough conviction of the personal misery which attends war, and the utter helplessness and inability of their ‘rulers’ to protect them . . . If that terror and grief and even want shall help to paralyze their husbands and fathers who are fighting us . . . it is mercy in the end.

Sherman and his generals

I later met the Iron Brigade in the Wilderness as they ran pell-mell through the forest—“like scared little girls,” one colleague liked to say—after Confederate counterattacks in the dark, close wood caught them completely off guard and crushed them.

I’ve run into them on many occasions since, but no meeting has been so fortuitous, or so interesting, as meeting them in Lance J. Herdegen’s excellent book The Iron Brigade in Civil War and Memory: The Black Hats from Bull Run to Appomattox and Thereafter. 

Lance Herdegen

“The Iron Brigade may have been the best combat infantry brigade of the American Civil War,” Herdegen says. While many would contest that statement, Herdegen makes a whopping 696-page argument that’s pretty convincing. “At the end of the war,” he points out, “it was determined the Iron Brigade regiments suffered the highest percentage of loss of any brigade in the Union Armies.”

Certainly the Iron Brigade is one of the most storied units in the entire Army of the Potomac, in no small part because so many members of the brigade chronicled their exploits after the war, circulating those adventures to wide acclaim. We “had fought on more fields of battle than the Old Guard of Napoleon, and have stood fire in far greater firmness,” one member of the brigade said.

At the time, the Iron Brigade first earned attention as the only all-Western brigade to serve in the Eastern Theater, comprised as they initially were of the 2nd, 6th, and 7th Wisconsin, the 19th Indiana infantry regiments (with Battery B of the 4th U.S. Artillery through in there, too). Their black felt hats gave them a particular battlefield élan not hard to miss, either.

Herdegen traces the brigade’s history in painstaking detail without bogging down in the weeds. He doesn’t sacrifice readability to achieve thoroughness, either. Herdegen knows how to keep his narrative engaging—no small feat considering the number of sources he works into the story. He draws on decades of research to tell this story.

Gettysburg gets the lion’s share of attention compared to other engagements, but that’s as much because there’s 150 years of muck Herdegen has to sort through as anything else. Certainly the brigade’s actions on May 1, 1863 deserve the focused discussion Herdegen gives them.

What’s more important about the book, however, is the detailed attention Herdegen gives all of the brigade’s exploits. The early section of the book, “Greenhorn Patriots,” may be my favorite because it’s a wonderful snapshot of a group of eager but inexperienced—and sometimes scared—men learning to be soldiers. “All had to learn the business of war,” a chapter header proclaims.

The book’s last section, too, deserves special attention. “Thereafter and Evermore” follows survivors of the brigade softly into that dark goodnight with some poignant observations.

I was glad to again meet these men of the Iron Brigade under such enlightening conditions. Herdegen does great honor to their memory while doing great service to the Civil War community by presenting their story so well. The Iron Brigade in Civil War and Memory is a well-crafted piece of scholarship worthy of the men whose exploits it recounts.