This morning I have been listening to a 1984 concert by Jethro Tull on YouTube while reading the last chapter and the epilog of James M. McPherson's extraordinary Battle Cry of Freedom: the American Civil War. It was quite an experience.
I have been following Jethro Tull since ~1970 and have seen them three times in concert. Ian Anderson, the leader of the band, started out playing an eccentric style of flute music, writing ambitious songs, and creating interesting lyrics. The video of this concert is truly excellent and made me think of how remarkable the human ability to create music is.
McPherson's book is a masterpiece of American history. It uses numerical data to capture the complex economic situation (very important!), the individal personalities (largely taken from the diaries and memoirs that so many soldiers, politicians and journalists produced during and after the war. The historiography of this crucial era is treated very briefly but brilliantly.
The Battle Cry of Freedom is a remarkable achievement. I know something about history -- I have written a fair number of books, but they are pretty short by comparison. I am astonished by McPherson and I can't really imagine how he did it.
One aspect of BCF is worth mentioning, The last chapter, "We Are All Americans;" is one of the most dramatic pieces of historical writing I have ever seen. That's largely because it describes the reactions of various witnesses to the high drama of the end of the war.
Have a look:
Lincoln's visit to Richmond produced the most unforgettable scenes of this unforgettable war. With an escort of only ten sailors, the president walked the streets while Porter peered nervously at every window for would-be assassins. But the Emancipator was soon surrounded by an impenetrable cordon of black people shouting"Glory to God! Glory! Glory! Glory!" "Bless the Lord!" "The great Messiah!" "I knowed him as soon as I seed him. He's been in my heart four long years. Come to free his children from bondage. Glory, Hallelujah!" Several freed slaves touched Lincoln to make sure he was real. "I know I am free, shouted an old woman, for I have seen Father Abraham and felt him." Overwhelmed by rare emotions, Lincoln said to one black man who fell on his knees in front of him, "Don't kneel to me. That is not right. You must kneel to God only, and thank Him for the liberty you will enjoy hereafter."
