When historians work to determine the scope of their research projects, they inevitably run into a Catch-22 of sorts. The issue is particularly acute when the central focus of this research is an individual or a group of individuals. For someone studying the American Civil War, they can choose to look at the words of a large group of soldiers on either side of the conflict. They can study letters, diary entries, and post-war recollections from thousands of soldiers to make broad generalizations about what soldiers told friends and loved ones about the war, how they experienced it firsthand, and how they felt about the political crisis that gave rise to the conflict in the first place. James McPherson’s For Cause and Comrades and Peter Carmichael’s more recent The War for the Common Soldier are great examples of a “macro” approach to understanding the Civil War.
Conversely, the historian can choose to focus on one individual soldier’s story. This approach has the advantage of possibly creating a strong sense of empathy and compassion within the reader as they follow the individual’s experiences during the war.
Both approaches have their disadvantages, however. Given the fact that millions of soldiers fought in the Civil War and had something to say about it, any particular viewpoint the historian wishes to highlight could ostensibly be justified through the source material. Union soldiers felt very strongly about making the Civil War a war to end slavery . . . or they were outraged about the Lincoln administration’s efforts to make the war’s aims anything besides the preservation of the Union. Civil War soldiers regularly read their Bibles and viewed the war in strongly religious terms . . . or they didn’t. Civil War veterans were anxious for political reunion and sectional reunion with their adversaries . . . or they weren’t. You get the point. For an analysis of individual stories, the challenge is being able to see the meaning of the Civil War beyond the individual soldier’s eyes. In other words, the causes, context, and consequences of the war are sometimes hard to find with an individualized approach.
Steve Procko’s Rebel Correspondent tries to thread the needle with a delightful read about Private Arba F. Shaw, a Confederate solider who wrote more than 40,000 words about his experiences with the 4th Georgia Cavalry during the American Civil War. Writing at the turn of the twentieth century, Shaw put pen to paper and wrote regular columns for the Walker County Messenger about his experiences during the war. Like other such recollections that are archived in newspapers, Shaw’s words were restricted to microfilm records prior to the publication of this book. Procko faithfully copies Shaw’s words and attempts to provide as much context as possible by fitting Shaw’s recollections within the context of the 4th Georgia Cavalry’s experiences during the war. In this sense the book isn’t merely a biography of Shaw but a regimental history that nicely captures the hopes, fears, and tragedies that Shaw and his comrades experienced during the war.
One of my favorite recollections from Shaw is the first one he published on December 12, 1901. In it, he recalled that:
I will say that it was a hard task for me to leave a pleasant home where peace and abundant comfort were taken [and] in exchange a miserable out door life where I was liable to be killed any day, but it was a task that for the same of honor I could not shirk from and now I am glad I performed it . . . What lamentation when husbands were called from their dear wives and little ones at home, in thousands of instances parted to meet at the fireside no more, and the young man thinking of his aspirations that were blasted and so many that went away to come no more and many that did return were so injured that their elastic steps was gone [sic] and they were maimed for life, some losing an arm, a leg, an eye, or both or many other things.Private Arba F. Shaw, December 12, 1901
Shaw nicely summarizes how jolting the war must have been for young men who had anything but war on their minds. We are apt to think that every American was glued to their daily newspaper during the secession crisis and that they knew the war was inevitable. For Shaw, one gets the impression that he enjoyed a comfortable life with few concerns and lots of dreams when the war broke out. He does not appear to have been concerned about secession, slavery, or civil war at the time the conflict began in 1861. But eventually the force of events caught up to him and many other men in a similar situation, forcing them to make a choice about their future. For hundreds of thousands of men, that choice had life changing or deadly consequences.
I admit that I tend to gravitate towards Civil War studies from academic publications and, when reading biographies, I find myself reading more about political leaders rather than common soldiers who experienced the war firsthand. However, I think most Civil War enthusiasts are probably the opposite of me in that they love reading firsthand accounts. In this sense, Procko’s book should receive a wide readership, especially from locals in Georgia who want to learn about Shaw and the 4th Georgia Cavalry.
Because of my usual reading interests, I found myself wanting a more substantial discussion of the context in which Shaw was writing. I mean to use the word “context” in several respects. For one, Shaw himself does not discuss ideology in his writings, either his own or the Confederate government that he chose to fight for. With the preponderance of the Lost Cause and popular beliefs that the war had little to do with slavery, a discussion of the ways people chose to remember the Civil War–and how soldiers like Shaw may have shaped these discussions, even if they chose not to write about politics in their own recollections–could have been beneficial. Secondly, it would have been nice to read more about the reasons why veterans like Shaw–particularly soldiers like him who never made it past the rank of private–were anxious to tell their stories to a younger generation that had not experienced the war firsthand. I would have liked Procko to situate his study within the context of other studies on Civil War veteran culture by historians such as Keith Harris, Caroline Janney, David Blight, James Marten, Brian Matthew Jordan, and others. There were also times when I struggled to keep track of all the names and dates there were published in the book.
Having said all of this, I did enjoy reading Rebel Correspondent and hope it receives a wide readership from Civil War enthusiasts of all types. Procko is an expert on his subject and this book is very well-researched. Other scholars who are anxious to uncover stories about the American Civil War in their local community would do well to study Procko’s research methods and take note of the ways he weaves Shaw’s recollections within a larger story of the 4th Georgia Cavalry during the Civil War.