They’re not at all the ones I would’ve picked, but that’s part of the fun of reading these lists, right?
Monthly Archives: January 2013
Kevin Phillips’s 1775: A Good Year for Revolution is well worth your time, but possibly not for the reason the author intended. His thesis is that it was not 1776 which was the critical year in America’s struggle for self-determination, but rather the previous one, since much of the groundwork for the colonies’ political and military success was laid over the course of what Phillips calls the “long 1775,” meaning the period from late 1774 through early 1776. Having read his argument—and it’s not a brief one—I’m not entirely convinced that he’s made his case. In the course of the attempt, however, Phillips covers so much material of interest that the book functions as a fine overview of the Revolution’s beginnings.
A longtime student of American political trends, Phillips devotes the book’s first section to the demographic, religious, economic, and ideological factors at play on the eve of the Revolution. Religious affiliation, he argues, was an important factor in determining an individual’s allegiance; New England Congregationalists, backcountry Presbyterians, and low church Anglicans in the South were at the forefront of imperial resistance. Tightening economic constraints were irksome to a growing colonial population plagued by currency shortages, indebtedness to British merchants, and restrictions on trade. Seamen and laborers dependent on maritime activities were especially zealous participants in Whig mobs. Frontier expansion was another source of ferment and division between western settlers and colonial authorities, complicating the efforts of both sides to draw on backcountry support. Much of this background information will be familiar to readers who have read the work of scholars such as Patricia Bonomi, Woody Holton, and Gary Nash.
The book’s second section examines how the political, logistic, and military contests between America and the empire actually played out over the course of the “long 1775.” Both sides had been moving toward armed confrontation for some time before Lexington and Concord, with de facto government and military power falling into Patriot hands across the colonies. A key component of this early stage of the struggle was the contest for resources. Americans scored a critical logistical victory in their effort to obtain gunpowder and other munitions, despite the trade restrictions imposed by the British in retaliation for the Continental Association’s import/export boycott. British authorities, meanwhile, neglected their own logistical needs, causing serious problems for their forces besieged in Boston. Raids by American privateers exacerbated these problems.
From a military standpoint, the British squandered a number of opportunities and committed a series of important mistakes in 1775 and early 1776. Efforts by royal officials to enlist the aid of slaves and Indians only stirred up white colonists against British authority. Raids on coastal towns, and threats to destroy these towns when supplies were not forthcoming, similarly made for potent American propaganda fodder. British strategists neglected American vulnerable points while wasting time and troops on poorly-coordinated efforts such as the ill-fated expedition to the Carolinas, and allowing most of their forces to remain tied down in the demoralizing siege at Boston. English attempts to obtain foreign mercenaries proved controversial at home, while the French and Spanish seized the opportunity to avenge their losses in earlier wars created by the American rebellion.
Patriots, meanwhile, enjoyed a number of military successes during this same period, as Whig militias acted to suppress Tory uprisings and makeshift American naval forces wreaked havoc on British supply lines. Although Americans did lose their dramatic wintertime gamble to capture Quebec at the end of 1775, Phillips emphasizes the extent to which this campaign came close to victory, as British forces in Canada were stretched extremely thin.
During the “long year” of late 1774 to early 1776, then, the American Revolutionaries scored important military, logistical, and political victories that would help carry them through the disappointments and disillusions to come. And since Phillips emphasizes how the Whigs had already taken de facto control of colonial governments, the eventual decision for independence comes off as anti-climactic, necessary only for diplomatic reasons and to shore up resolve before the massive British invasion of New York that same year. But having built up the importance of the long ’75, he doesn’t spend much time demolishing the edifice of 1776, despite a few hints at how that year’s mythic status arose out of shifts in cultural memory after the Revolution.
Phillips does, however, demonstrate how the American successes and British missteps of the long ’75 gave the Revolution the breathing room it needed to mature. Taken as a wide-ranging examination of the war’s formative period, this is one of the better books on the Revolution to be released by a commercial publisher in recent years, drawing on an impressive reading of the secondary literature.
I’ve got this irritating discomfort in the back of my jaw that just showed up a couple of days ago, so I’ve had to make a dental appointment. This is a problem, because deep within my mature and balanced psyche lies the pain threshold of a four-year-old girl.
But at least I’m in good company. Here’s an excerpt from a paper delivered by Dr. William Harper De Ford to the Pennsylvania State Dental Society on June 11, 1912 and published in The Dentists’ Record later that same year:
Dr. Wolf of Washington, D. C., told me that on one occasion, a tall, gawky, raw-boned, awkward specimen of humanity came to his ofiice for the extraction of a tooth. He placed him in the chair, procured a forceps, and just as he was about to operate, the patient said, “Just a moment, please,” drew from his pocket a small bottle, and took several inhalations. “Now you may proceed,” he said, and opened his mouth. The tooth was extracted painlessly. The bottle contained chloroform. The patient was Abraham Lincoln, then president of the United States.
He knew from personal experience that you’d better prepare for the worst when having your mouth worked on. Years earlier, another dentist had torn off part of Lincoln’s jawbone while extracting a tooth…and without any anesthesia. I hope I have better luck than he did.
Think the cost of health care has been going up? Check out the cost of college textbooks.
Maybe we should all think about replacing our usual textbooks with something like Robert Remini’s A Short History of the United States. Students would still be getting their background and context from a distinguished and reputable historian, but at a fraction of the cost of the glossy, illustration-heavy volumes put out by textbook publishers. They’d also save time and money that could be spent on other reading material, material which would demonstrate what historians do and how they do it.
Or maybe we should ditch the background, textbook-type reading completely. I’m gradually becoming convinced that survey-level history texts aren’t just overpriced—they’re a little superfluous. When I teach survey courses, I spend most of my time lecturing on important historical trends, covering critical events, providing context, and so on. In other words, I’m doing the very same thing the textbook is doing, except I’m doing it verbally. Is the textbook really necessary when it does nothing but elaborate on the same material we cover in lecture?
In the past, I’ve tried to save my students’ money by replacing the supplementary source reader with material from the Internet History Sourcebook or another online primary source collection, and assigning the main text as the only book to buy. Maybe I’ve been doing it backwards. Perhaps we should all ditch our textbooks instead, and assign a good primary source reader along with an accessible monograph or two. Thus we’d have lectures for background coverage, and assigned reading to learn interpretation and historical thinking. Some professors have been doing this for a long time. Is it time to take that approach mainstream?
…If I ever meet an editorial writer who’s capable of discussing sectionalism in modern American politics without invoking the Civil War, I’ll be pleasantly surprised.
Seriously, guys, find some original metaphors. How about Federalists vs. Republicans, just to try something new?
A friend of mine alerted me to this. It’s called The Hypo, and it recounts Lincoln’s bout with depression as a young man in Springfield. You can read an excerpt by clicking here.