Dreadnought, by Robert K. Massie

Today I'm looking at a book about relations between Britain and Germany from the formation of the German Empire in 1871 to the outbreak of World War I in 1914. I originally thought based on the title that this book would focus more on the development of the dreadnought battleship and the naval policies that put diplomatic strain between Germany and Britain and eventually put the two nations at war. Massie goes into considerable detail in his book, but I'm left wondering if the amount of detail is a little too much, and it's no surprise that this book is over nine hundred pages long. Massie's definitely done his research but I think there's a lot of material that could have been excised from this particular book without sacrificing a lot.

The H.M.S. Dreadnought was a battleship that brought about a revolution in naval warfare and tactical thinking, spawning an entire class of battleship named after it and descendants, the superdreadnoughts. There hadn't been a major naval conflict since the Napoleonic wars but naval technology saw considerable improvements. In 1806 the two and three decked ships of the line with muzzle-loading cannons were the mainstays of navies across the globe. The advent of steel armor, breech-loading artillery, and steam power meant ships had gone through radical changes. But because of this gradual evolution of ship design there was one key problem. Battleships had an armament consisting of guns in different sizes. In addition to complicating ammunition supplies, this meant that accurate ranging of the ship's weapons were difficult if not impossible. The splashes from the different caliber guns would be at different ranges so it would be nearly impossible for a gunnery officer on a battleship to determine where his shells had landed. As artillery increased in its accuracy and range, the importance of accurately and reliably aiming broadsides became a matter of life and death.

The solution was the all big-gun battleship, carrying massive broadsides of heavy guns in one caliber. With improvements in fire control a battleship could fire a devastating broadside accurately and repeatedly into an enemy ship. The release of the dreadnought launched a new arms race among the Great Powers. The ship with heavier guns could fire at a longer range, sometimes safely from beyond the range of enemy ships with lighter guns. In addition a certain amount of prestige was attached to having a fleet of large, powerful battleships. As Germany accelerated its building program of battleships, Britain grew increasingly concerned for their own safety and gradually British interests aligned with those of France, rather than where they had traditionally been with Germany.

This is just a very brief overview, of course, and the book goes into a great many other subjects, such as Kaiser Wilhelm II's personality and strange love-hate relationship with Britain which added further problems to existing relationships between the two powers. And Massie goes into a great amount of detail about those problems. I think the biggest thing Massie could have done was reduce the overall scope of his book. The reason I say this is that Massie goes back to Victoria and Albert and their many children, of whom their eldest daughter, Victoria, married Crown Prince Friedrich of Prussia, and later Crown Prince of the united German Empire and the tragically short-reigned emperor Friedrich III. Friedrich's own fondness for England and English customs is used to explain Wilhelm II's psyche and his strange relationship with the nation. I think Massie simply went too far back to make his history concise.

Another issue I noticed was that Massie included detailed biographies of every important figure that factored into the historical narrative somehow. While I can understand talking about, for example, Jackie Fisher, the admiral who was responsible for modernizing the British Navy and developing the H.M.S. Dreadnought, I think detailed biographies of other figures could be skipped or at least heavily reduced, such as Philip Eulenberg who was accused of homosexuality in Germany and at the time caused a considerable scandal. Massie fails to place it into the larger context and how it would have an effect on the naval arms race. Every major government official involved, from Bulow to Holstein to Caprivi to Asquith to Roseberry to Grey gets their own biography chapter which bloats the length of the book out far beyond what I think it needed.

Another criticism I have is for a book titled Dreadnought, the ships themselves don't seem to be as large as the diplomatic relations between nations about them. There's a chapter about their development which goes with Jacky Fisher, and there is a chapter about the Naval Scare, but significantly more of the book is spent on people's biographies and diplomatic exchanges rather than the ships. Maybe this will be talked about more in Massie's other book, Castles of Steel, but there's very little commentary on the dreadnoughts. And Massie doesn't even talk about the Battle of Jutland, the only major dreadnought engagement in history, stopping his narrative with the declaration of war in 1914.

Overall this book is very detailed and it shows that Massie has done considerable research into this subject, but this book is far more about the personalities and diplomacy than about the ships themselves. If you're looking for a more military-focused history, then this book is not going to serve you well. But if you're just looking for a ton of nineteenth and early twentieth century history, especially with Britain and Germany, then this is definitely worth your time.

- Kalpar

Bismarck, by Alan Palmer

Today I'm looking at a biography of Otto von Bismarck, known to students of European and German history as the Iron Chancellor of Prussia who united the disparate states into the German Empire in the nineteenth century. Bismarck has always been a controversial figure, his focus on militarism and authoritarian rule is seen as a foreshadowing of the atrocities of the Nazi regime half a century later. However, Bismarck also was a firm supporter of modernizing Prussia and Germany and later in his administration he would pass comprehensive social security plans for German workers, hoping it would cut any desire for socialist revolution in Germany. Bismarck is ultimately a figure of contradictions. A reactionary autocrat of the first order who promoted social welfare reform. A man often depicted in military uniform, but only served as a soldier for a year and became a Landwehr reserve lieutenant before pursuing a civil career in the diplomatic corps. A member of the Junker aristocracy and yet always seemingly apart from them. For a man who redrew the map of Europe Bismarck remains a puzzle to historians.

The career of Bismarck almost didn't begin. Evidence from his early days suggest that Bismarck played the role of ''wildman Junker'' to the hilt, followed by a pack of hunting dogs and getting in numerous duels during his time at university. In fact, Bismarck didn't do so well at university, despite his later genius at handling both international relations and managing Wilhelm I of Prussia and later Germany. With the death of his father, Bismarck spent nine years working as a gentleman farmer, trying to manage his estates and actually turning a profit. It's probable that if there was any school where Bismarck learned how to negotiate, how to manage people, and the importance of having multiple plans, it was probably the Frankfurt Diet of the German Confederation. Although his time in the diet was much ridiculed by his opponents, it probably still served an important purpose in his education.

Still, even with his experience in the diet it is surprising that Bismarck became chancellor at all. After making numerous enemies at home with his brash actions, Bismarck was sent as ambassador to Russia, a task he loathed because of the social interactions involved. For someone widely regarded as one of Europe's greatest diplomats, Bismarck had a hatred for social galas or even spending time in the capital. Bismarck was far happier to retire to his country estates in Altmark or Pomerania than among the glittering elite of nineteenth century Europe. In truth, Bismarck was only selected for chancellor and minister-president of Prussia because of an ongoing constitutional crisis.

A handful of reforms had been enacted in Prussia in the nineteenth century, including the creation of a parliamentary body, the Landtag. William I had wanted an increase in expenditure for the vaunted Prussian military which required approval from the Landtag, however a majority of the Landtag wanted a reduction in the compulsory military service from three years to two, something that William I was unwilling to negotiate on. Bismarck, never one to be worried by upsetting parliamentary niceties when it was to his advantage to do so, simply used the previous year's budget and governed without the Landtag under the auspices of a crisis, a constitutional position he had explored some years earlier.  The taxes got collected, the troops got equipped, and Bismarck had freedom to rule without parliamentary interference.

The image of Bismarck that emerges from his time as chancellor is a man of extreme moral flexibility. Bismarck will make friends with you one day and then stab you in the back the next if it was beneficial to his plans. Bismarck does not seem to be guided by any political ideology or philosophy and appears to have very little patience for people who do. His goal, as Palmer describes it, seems to be power for himself, and uniting Germany under Prussia was merely a means to expand that power for himself, as exhibited by Bismarck's own frustrations with rampant nationalist ideologues.

Another of Bismarck's strengths was his ability to have an extra plan, or two, or three for him to fall back on if his first plan didn't go through. As Extra History put it in their biographic series of Bismarck, the first rule of being Bismarck was ''Always have a plan''. This fit perfectly with his moral flexibility, and throughout his career Bismarck worked to never be in a position where he was forced to commit definitively to anything he didn't want, something that later leaders of the German Empire did not have the skill or ability to do. Which underlines the biggest weakness of Bismarck's system: it doesn't work without Bismarck.

Bismarck was an autocrat through and through, down to his inability (or perhaps unwillingness) to imagine a system that existed without him. He did try to groom his eldest son Herbert for the position of Chancellor, but Herbert proved unequal to the task and only served in a variety of posts in the diplomatic corps. Bismarck's position as Chancellor of the German Empire was added to the constitution of the empire as an afterthought, rather than as a key part. He existed independent of and unaccountable to the Reichstag, serving only at the pleasure of the emperor and so long as that was the manageable, aged William I, Bismarck had free reign to do as he pleased.

As long as Bismarck remained at the center of the system, the elaborate network of alliances, treaties, and agreements, the ad hoc nature of the machinery of government in Germany, everything worked in spite of its inherent weaknesses. But once the autocrat is gone, the entire machinery falls apart. This is even illustrated during Bismarck's administration by his frequent retreats to his estates, when all major decision making is either put on hold, or people must make the pilgrimage to Bismarck to get decisions. Crises that didn't get his immediate attention soon spun out of control until Bismarck was once again at the helm.

In this way, Bismarck is a quintessentially European figure displaced in time. A moral opportunist and autocrat of the first order in earlier epochs could have become king or established a dynasty. In the industrializing nineteenth century, Bismarck was faced with things he could not control or perhaps understand. A figure of contradictions, Bismarck will remain a person of great interest to historians for years to come.

- Kalpar

A Country of Vast Designs, by Robert W. Merry

Today I'm looking at a biography of the eleventh president of the United States, James K. Polk. For many people, Polk is among many of those nineteenth century presidents that are largely forgotten. Polk may not have been a caretaker president but with the general population he usually gets lumped in with them. As Merry points out, this is somewhat odd because Polk was president during the third-largest expansion of U.S. territory during his administration, surpassed only by the Louisiana Purchase and the Alaska Purchase. Furthermore Polk managed to achieve all four of his major policy objectives within one term: reduction of tariffs, the creation of an independent treasury, negotiation of the Oregon territory, and annexation of Mexican territory. However, the fact that Polk achieved his major objective through an aggressive and blatantly imperialist war against Mexico has significantly tarnished his reputation and left his political legacy in considerable doubt. I will say that Merry is a pretty strong Polk apologist and that leaves me in some doubt.

I will give Polk some credit by managing to achieve his objectives of tariff reduction and the independent treasury. Polk faced stiff opposition from the Whigs as well as members of his own Democratic Party, revealing the deep sectional divisions hiding within the national parties. It was only through using political capital to get his legislative program accomplished. Furthermore he had to spend considerable effort quelling rebellion and insubordination within his own administration, a process that could have been simplified by removal of James Buchanan as Secretary of State. It does reveal that Polk had considerable skill as a negotiator and coordinator which certainly makes him equal with other presidents who faced equal challenges with an opposed Congress.

If Polk has a biggest flaw, it's his refusal to engage in confrontation and deal with subordinates who undermine or actively act against him. The best example of this is the aforementioned James Buchanan. This really comes to the fore with the negotiations over the boundary for Oregon. Polk was elected on a platform of ''54-40 or Fight'', the extreme boundary of the territory. Merry argues, probably correctly, that Polk adopted this extreme measure to force Britain to negotiate over the boundary, especially since previous attempts to negotiate at the 49th parallel had been rejected by the British. Although there was legitimate concern that Polk's stance would provoke war with Great Britain, Buchanan repeatedly undermined Polk's attempts by providing conflicting information to British diplomats. And when Polk managed to finally negotiate a boundary at the 49th parallel Buchanan immediately reversed course and demanded that Polk accept nothing less than 54-40.  Buchanan also opposed the treaty ending the Mexican War, even after it accomplished all the goals Polk proposed. It seemed that Buchanan adopted any contrary position just to cover his own ass for his future presidential prospects.

The biggest issue around Polk is of course the Mexican-American War which was provoked through a variety of diplomatic incidents between Mexico and the United States and started Zachary Taylor and a detachment of dragoons were sent into the disputed boundary between the Rio Grande and Nueces Rivers in Texas. Taylor was attacked by Mexican troops which prompted Congress to grant Polk's request of a declaration of war. However even as the war began, Polk's Whig opponents criticized him for starting what they saw as an illegal, unconstitutional, and imperialist war and those criticisms have remained. This is the point where Merry gets most apologist for Polk, arguing in essence that while the United States provoked the war, it was in some ways justified because of Mexico's inability to meet legal reparations, their mishandling of the diplomatic overtures, and their decision to adopt a hostile stance with a larger and more powerful neighbor. I feel like this is almost a case of victim-blaming that Merry adopts, ignoring any notions Mexicans may have had of national honor offended by American treatment of their nation as inferior, just as strong as American indignation at Mexican offense of American honor. While it may have been rational for Mexico to negotiate with the United States and perhaps end up losing less territory than they did after the war, it may not have been the rational choice for a proud, nineteenth century Mexican nationalist who would rather fight than surrender unilaterally.

And if there's one topic Merry definitely avoids as it pertains to Polk it's the issue of slavery. Polk owned twenty-five slaves and was selected as a candidate for the Democratic party because of his willingness to tolerate slavery. While Polk did not take an adamant stance in favor of slavery, such as contemporary John C. Calhoun famously did, he was no abolitionist or even apologist such as Henry Clay who at least went through the motions of saying it was bad and should be removed even if Henry Clay's scheme of colonization never really worked. Merry makes absolutely no mention of Polk's slaves or his relationship with them, and Polk does not seem to have been bothered by the institution in his personal writings. At most Polk's desperate opposition of the slavery debate seems to have been an effort to keep the country united as the regional  fault lines between slave and free became more obvious in the 1840s and 1850s. Furthermore, Polk's acquisition of new territory was responsible for the opening of the slavery debate because those territories had not been covered under the Missouri Compromise legislations. While some people, including Polk, supported extending the compromise legislation to the new territories, a growing abolitionist faction made a simple solution to the slavery question impossible and concerns over the status of new territories added further fuel to the flame of sectional strife.

So while I can understand and appreciate the significance of Polk's achievements as a politician and president, I still think that there's quite a lot to critique as well. Regardless of what Merry thinks, I am still of the opinion that the Mexican-American War was a war of imperialist expansion in keeping with the U.S.'s other (undeclared) wars of expansion against Native American Indian tribes. While there are parts of this book that are highly informative, I think it goes to being a little too laudatory for Polk for me to truly appreciate it.

- Kalpar

Six Frigates: The Epic History of the Founding of the U.S. Navy, by Ian W. Toll

Today I'm looking at a history of the United States Navy in its earliest era from its founding during George Washington's administration through the War of 1812. For much of this period the existence of the navy was very much in doubt. The early United States had a strong distaste for standing military forces, and this included naval forces. In addition to the great expense involved in maintaining a naval force, many Americans believed a navy would only lead to further conflicts with European powers. Some Americans much preferred the use of privateers, much like the American militia system, to meet America's security needs than a large standing army.

The need for an American navy became apparent, however, due to conflict with the Barbary States and the Revolutionary and Napoleonic Wars in Europe. The conflict with the Barbary states is gone into much greater detail in another book I read, Thomas Jefferson and the Tripoli Pirates. While this book spends at least a decent portion talking about the Barbary States since it's an examination of the Navy as a whole it also explores the Quasi-war and the War of 1812 which further emphasized the need for a navy.

From the beginning the leaders of the United States realized that a large navy with ships of the line modeled along European lines would not be sustainable with the resources that the United States possessed. The initial plan in 1794 called for six frigates, four heavy and two light, constructed at six different shipyards through the United States. The main designer Joshua Humphreys, planned the frigates on designs that would make them heavier, stronger, and better-armed than British and French frigates, but also make them fast enough to still evade ships of the line against which the frigate would be hopelessly outmatched. The result, proved eventually in the War of 1812, was that the American frigates could go toe-to-toe (or more accurately yardarm-to-yardarm) with British frigates and in many cases still win.

The amazing thing is that the Navy managed to survive despite almost being dissolved numerous times. It seems to be a consistent policy that when war is looming, the United States went through a flurry of trying to get ships together and ready to fight, but once a treaty has been made and peace declared the United States decides to mothball its frigates and furlough its officers, squandering valuable institutional experience in the interim. Only to have to bring the ships back up to fighting trim when the next round of hostilities opened. In some ways it's amazing that the navy managed to survive until the War of 1812.

If the War of 1812 did anything, it proved that the navy was a necessary element for national defense and that the United States could, and would, stand up against British naval power and win. Compared to the debacles of the various attempted invasions of Canada and the disgrace of Washington D. C. being burned by redcoats, the multiple victories at sea against the best navy in the world dramatically boosted American morale. Naval commanders such as Stephen Decatur and Oliver Hazard Perry became household names and lithographs of the nation's frigates became popular decorations. After the war ended, support and funding for the navy remained strong and the United States navy continued to grow.

Overall I thought this book was interesting, if fairly brief. It's at best a brief overview of the history of the U.S. navy for its first twenty years of its existence. Because I did a report on the Battle of Lake Erie in seventh grade, I did a ton of research on the early navy so I vaguely remembered quite a few of the events described in this book. But if you're looking for a brief history this is definitely a good choice and worth the effort.

- Kalpar

Henry Clay: The Essential American, by David S. Heidler and Jeanne T. Heidler

Today I'm looking at a biography of Henry Clay, one of the most prominent statesmen of the early American Republic. With John C. Calhoun and Daniel Webster, Henry Clay formed a triumvirate that represented the political and sectional differences of the United States. For nearly forty years they held positions of high office in the United States and held the country together. When the three giants died in the early 1850's, America was aware that it was the end of an age and it would only be a few years until the Slaveholders' Rebellion would tear the nation apart. But even in his dying days Clay labored to keep the country together.

Clay had a long and varied career, serving in the House of Representatives, becoming Speaker, being a commissioner in Ghent that formed the treaty that ended the War of 1812, Secretary of State, and finally Senator. Clay left an indelible mark on the United States both metaphorically and very literally with actions such as the Missouri Compromise of 1820. Clay's most enduring power was to marshal votes, create majorities, and form a consensus despite the incredibly fluid nature of American politics. Despite there being only one or two political parties during Clay's lifetime a person's political ideas were less likely to be dependent on party and more likely to depend on geographic location and economic background. So it was probably easier for Clay to form bipartisan measures in his era than in our own.

Clay's most enduring project was what he called the American System, a program that would promote American development through a variety of measures. Specifically Clay advocated for a protective tariff to stimulate American industry, internal improvements including canals, roads, and later railroads to stimulate trade, and a central bank to ensure a stable currency. Clay made some progress with at least the tariff and funding internal improvements but due to the rise of Jacksonian democracy Clay never succeeded in creating a central bank and reforms to banking would have to wait until Salmon P. Chase's tenure as Secretary of the Treasury.

I think the most frustrating thing about Henry Clay is he spent a lifetime perched on the fence in regards to slavery and perhaps no other person than Clay personally represented the dilemma America faced. Clay owned slaves and personally detested the institution of slavery, but also opposed the platform of abolition and immediate emancipation. Clay spent a lifetime as president of the American Colonization Society, an organization that sought to neatly solve the problem of slavery by gradually emancipating slaves and sending them back to somewhere in Africa and completely sidestepping the issue of racial relations in the United States. Colonization as a plan was never practical for a variety of problems. First, colonization never attracted sufficient money to emancipate and transport slaves in any practical means, so it remained a minor solution at best. Second, the timeline for emancipation and colonization was theoretical at best, inevitably pushing the problem to some later date when increases in population would make slavery unnecessary. Finally, colonization never took the opinions of the slaves themselves into consideration either. African-Americans, all of whom at this point were born in America, knew nothing about Africa and had no desire to be sent there and they had no desire to be sent anywhere else. The Colonization Society perfectly matched Clay's attitudes on slavery, an attempt to ignore the problem and hope to solve it at some later date while it grew to be a problem that almost tore the country apart.

Clay is an interesting individual and was at the center of every political issue during the first half of the nineteenth century, even with his individual failings. If you seek to understand politics of the early Republic and the antebellum era, this is an excellent book to read.

- Kalpar

The President is a Sick Man, by Matthew Alego

Today I'm looking at a book about Grover Cleveland, a president that most people only know because of his election to two non-consecutive terms, a feat which today remains unrepeated. This book talks about a secret operation that was performed on Grover Cleveland to remove cancerous cells from the president's mouth in the summer of 1893. Because of the impending debate over repeal of the Silver Purchase Act as well as the ongoing economic depression, secrecy of the operation was considered paramount for the good of the country. However word soon leaked about Cleveland's operation and a reporter named E.J. Edwards revealed the information in a fairly tame article, drawing ire from Cleveland and his doctors. Despite his reputation for integrity, Cleveland and his aides categorically denied that Cleveland had anything more than some bad teeth removed and E.J. Edward's article was dismissed as a hoax. It would not be until twenty-five years later that William Keen, the leading surgeon, finally admitted the operation had been performed.

I have some issues with this book, and I think it's mostly because there are points where Algeo goes onto tangents to talk about subjects that really don't contribute to the subject matter and I suspect that was to pad out the length of the book. I think Algeo also blows the secrecy surrounding Cleveland's operation out of proportion by comparing it to conspiracies like Watergate. The result is a book that's adequate from a research perspective but Alego's historical arguments don't really work.

Alego does an adequate job talking about the historical facts and providing relevant historical context, such as including the history of the antiseptic movement which dramatically increased the survival rate of surgery patients after its adoption and which probably helped save Cleveland's life because his doctors followed antiseptic protocol. Alego also talks about the silver debate and the importance attached to repealing the Silver Purchase Act as an attempt to rectify the Panic of 1893. For modern audiences, it can be difficult to understand the importance of the money question and how it caused divisions even within the Democratic and Republican parties. Cleveland's Vice-President, Adlai Stevenson, was a staunch silverite and would never have approved a repeal of the Silver Purchase Act. If word that Cleveland wasn't well it would have significantly undermined his political power and given the silverites the motivation to hold out.

However, Alego spends a significant amount of time talking about other subjects which have little to no relevance to the book and feel obviously used to pad out the length of the book. There are at least a couple of passages that could definitely have been removed without losing anything substantive to the book. Among these was when Alego took time talking about the history of men's facial hair in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century until the development of the safety razor, and going so far as to categorize the facial hair of each president who had facial hair. Alego also blames Cleveland's response to the Pullman Strike (sending in federal troops to violently put down the strike) on the pain Cleveland experienced from his surgery. I would say that completely ignores the trend of the government siding with capital against labor in the nineteenth century. I mean, there are multiple times when troops were sent in to put down strikes so it's hard for me to agree that Cleveland having surgery was the sole reason he put in the Pullman strike.

Ultimately I think this book is a lot longer than it needs to be. When you look at the historical context, it's hardly surprising that Cleveland kept his heath condition a secret. Alego himself writes about how the word cancer couldn't even be published in newspapers, much less talked about. Cleveland wasn't the first president to conceal his actual health and project an image of healthy vigor to assure the nation, and he wasn't the last either. While I agree it was an act of dishonesty, this was hardly and act bringing about a constitutional crisis.

Overall I'd say this book isn't worth your time because it hasn't got a lot to say and it becomes very obvious when Alego is just padding out the book to meet a word count.

- Kalpar

The Tycoons, by Charles R. Morris

Today I'm looking at an economic history that focuses on four of the most famous American robber barons of the Gilded Age. This book is partly a biography of the tycoons, but also talks about the larger factors that helped turned the United States into the dominant global economic power that would dominate the twentieth century. This book is definitely interesting, although some of Morris's conclusions run counter to conventional thinking about the Gilded Age. Morris does utilize extensive data so I think it's a matter that merits more investigation and research and we may be able to come to new conclusions from existing data.

Of the many business executives of the nineteenth century, Morris focuses on four that stand head and shoulders above the rest, both in influence and wealth. Jay Gould, a stock jobber and railroad magnate; John Rockefeller, who ruthlessly crushed competition and consolidated former rivals into his sprawling Standard Oil; Andrew Carnegie, who dominated the steel industry and drove prices down through any method possible; and J.P. Morgan, the financier who personally forestalled two financial panics. Morris provides brief biographies of all four the tycoons as well as their influence on American industry. Morris actually spends time arguing that Rockefeller, Gould, and Morgan do not deserve as much opprobrium that they receive in traditional histories. He particularly focuses on Jay Gould who is largely remembered for his gutting of the troubled Erie railroad and absconding with some seven million dollars. Morris argues that Erie was the exception and Gould spent most of his career genuinely trying to consolidate railroads into profitable enterprises. He makes further arguments on Rockefeller and Morgan to much the same effect, going so far as to argue that Morgan was interested in defeating ruinous competition.

The only tycoon that Morris really attacks is Andrew Carnegie to demolish the reputation Carnegie had in the nineteenth century as a ''good tycoon'', although in the modern era I wouldn't think many people think of Andrew Carnegie as a good tycoon. Morris points to the repeated conflicts Carnegie had with labor and his constant attempts to reduce worker's wages despite growing profits while Rockefeller had fairly few issues with his own workers. Regardless, I think the exploitation of workers and consolidation of capital don't make the tycoons completely blameless.

In addition to talking about the titular tycoons, Morris talks about the larger developments of the United States that enabled it to become the economic powerhouse of the twentieth century. One of the most important is the development of the rail infrastructure which enabled mail-order industries like Sears and Roebuck to grow, something which wasn't anticipated by Morgan and Gould who originally helped build the railroads. Morris also argues that the economic conditions for the middle class actually improved during the Gilded Age, despite widespread deflation.

When the United States effectively went on the gold standard, the dollar went through a gradual deflation which resulted in falling prices as well as wages, which gave many people the impression that times were getting harder all around. Morris argues from his data, however, that despite the falling wages caused by deflation purchasing power did not decrease equally and as a result standards of living in the United States actually went up. Obviously this is a difficult issue that requires a lot of data to make a conclusion but I see no reason to at least not accept Morris's argument as possibly valid and meriting further research.

Overall I thought this book was rather interesting, although I have a personal interest in financial history and the nineteenth century. Some of Morris's arguments do run counter to existing understandings of history, but I think there's enough data that extensive research could see how accurate Morris's arguments really are. If these are topics that pique your interest then I think it's definitely worth your time.

- Kalpar

The Great Bridge: The Epic Story of the Building of the Brooklyn Bridge, by David McCullough

Today I'm looking at another book from historian David McCullough, which you may remember as the author of two other books I've read, John Adams and 1776. Obviously this is not in the same historical era as the Brooklyn Bridge was constructed in the late nineteenth century, but McCullough still brings excellent writing to a subject making it engaging and entertaining. If you're interested in the history of engineering projects in the nineteenth century, such as I am, this is definitely worth taking the time to check out.

The Brooklyn Bridge is one of many massive civic engineering challenges undertaken in the nineteenth century, each of which came with its own unique challenges. Whether it was building a canal through the Suez, railroads through the Rocky Mountains, or building bridges across the busiest harbor in the United States, each construction project came with its own engineering challenges, as well as financial and political problems that always follow such projects. Perhaps most impressive is the Brooklyn Bridge, one of the few suspension bridges to be built with stone towers, and remains in continuous use to this day, requiring only minimal maintenance and upkeep.

In addition to talking about the unique engineering challenges, McCullough provides plenty of context about the construction of the Brooklyn Bridge including the personal life of the Roebling family, the interference of infamous Boss Tweed, and the various financial issues which almost prevented the bridge from being completed. I am left wondering if this was an abridged copy of the book that I listened to, though, because it didn't seem quite as in depth as I thought it would be. And for a project that took fourteen years to complete, McCullough doesn't seem to spend as much time talking about the actual construction of the bridge as he does about other topics like the life of Washington Roebling and the influence of Boss Tweed in Tammany Hall. I tried looking on the library website and I didn't see anything about it being an abridged version so I'm not sure.

Despite my concerns I think this is a really good book about a civic engineering project of the nineteenth century. McCullough provides information and context without getting overly bogged down in the technical details, such as details about exactly how many tons of stone and steel were used in the bridge construction project, which certain other histories about engineering projects can fall prey to. If you're interested in this sort of history, this is definitely a book worth checking out.

- Kalpar

Into Africa: The Epic Adventures of Stanley & Livingstone, by Martin Dugard

Today I'm looking at a history of one of the major news events of the nineteenth century, the hunt for Dr. David Livingstone in central Africa after he had been missing for five years. White explorers going missing was hardly a novel occurrence and Livingstone was not the first, but the stature and fame of Livingstone meant Britain and the larger world knew his name, and the influence of newspapers keeping Africa and Livingstone in the public consciousness ensured a steady interest in the fate of the missionary and explorer. In fact it was a newspaper stunt that eventually found Dr. Livingstone, with reporter Henry Stanley of the New York Herald leading the expedition at the behest of the paper's editor. Stanley's words upon finding Livingstone in the town of Ujiji, ''Dr. Livingstone, I presume.'' have even entered the English lexicon Since I knew basically nothing but the most general details of this period of white men stumbling around and getting themselves lost in swamps in history, I figured this book was worth taking a look.

What precipitated Livingstone's expedition through jungles, swamps, deserts, and savannas was a debate over the source of the White Nile, one of the Nile's main tributaries. (Incidentally just doing a basic Wikipedia search it looks like there's still some debate over what counts as the ''source'' of the Nile) However there were several hypotheses being floated about by people who had actually tramped through Africa. One source that was known for certain was Lake Victoria, a large lake that sprawls across the modern countries of Uganda, Kenya, and Tanzania and which the White Nile definitively drains from. What was (and is) debated is if there was a source further south beyond Lake Victoria. Some hypothesized that a river or series of lakes and rivers connected Lake Tanganyika, further to the south, with Lake Victoria. Livingstone himself believed that lakes further south, such as Lake Malawi, might even be connected to Lake Tanganyika and Lake Victoria. Because of his status and reputation as an explorer, Livingstone set out on an expedition into Central Africa.

The thrill for the people back home was that central Africa was one of the last unknown places to Europeans. Nevermind that other people had been living there quite happily for thousands of years and had even traded with places as far away as China, to Europe it was terra incognita. So there was a great amount of romance of the brave, solitary explorer delving into the unknown, and Livingstone actually had a habit of going on these expeditions only with native porters and assistants. And this was not uncommon. Many expeditions of the time consisted of only a handful of white Europeans and a large train of African, Arab, or Indian porters, soldiers, and assistants. And if the Europeans should die, the hired help had little or no motivation to bring word back to European outposts in locations like Zanzibar. In fact in some cases, the porters and assistants were accused of murdering their employers, which made it even less palatable to report back to authorities. So once Livingstone disappeared into Africa, neither he nor word came back it was very unlikely anyone would hear from him again.

Stanley's was not the first expedition to go in search of Livingstone, but it was the only one to actually find him. A previous expedition had gone to confirm rumors of his death, but after finding convincing proof Livingstone was alive it returned to England. In many ways it was sheer good fortune that Stanley, an absolute neophyte when it came to traveling in Africa, actually met Livingstone at Ujiji. Both Livingstone and Stanley had been extremely ill during their expeditions, suffering from malnutrition, dehydration, and a variety of disease like malaria endemic to the tropics. Either one could have died before reaching the other. Livingstone could have failed to make it to Ujiji, where he hoped relief supplies was waiting for him. Stanley could have arrived before Livingstone, and spent all his dwindling supplies waiting or searching for Livingstone before having to return to the coast. It truly was a tremendous coincidence of good fortune for both men.

Overall I thought this book was interesting, although there's a certain level of crazy to these explorers who decide to go wandering through jungles and suffer all manner of diseases. I certainly would have headed back home at the first opportunity. Or never left home in the first place. I do suspect Dugard stretches or sensationalizes some facts, but I don't see any serious flaws with his methodology, especially considering the copious written material available for Dugard to draw upon for research. It is heavily from the European perspective, but that's hardly surprising. Dugard also tries to put things within the larger context of the nineteenth century, but it's mostly focused on the historical figures than the larger picture. If you're specifically interested in the life and work of Livingstone and Stanley, I think this book is a good opportunity.

- Kalpar

Destiny of the Republic, by Candice Millard

Today I'm looking at a book that's part biography, part larger history, and focuses around the events of the assassination of President James Garfield just a handful of months into his term in 1881. Despite initially surviving the bullet and clinging to life for several weeks, Garfield eventually died of massive internal infection leaving Chester A. Arthur, a man nobody had expected to be president, in the White House. In addition to talking about Garfield, this book focuses on the life of his assassin, Charles Giteau, who was not a sane individual by any stretch of the imagination. The aftereffects of this assassination are also important to American history both in what happened and what didn't happen as a result.

James Garfield was a politician from Ohio who did not expect to be nominated for president in 1880. To the very end, Garfield remained loyal to Senator John Sherman of Ohio who he had pledged his vote. The 1880 Republican convention was seeking a new candidate, after the ignominy of Rutherford B. Hayes's electoral victory in 1876 and was divided between three candidates. Ulysses S. Grant, although having already served two terms, was supported by the machine politicians but was opposed by James G. Blaine who was favored by those who supported reform. Finally John Sherman brought up the rear for those dissatisfied with either candidate. Eventually Garfield was selected as a compromise candidate, despite his loud protestations that he did not desire the candidacy. Reluctantly Garfield found himself the nominee, and eventually elected as president of the United States.

According to Millard and her sources, Garfield was a highly respected member of the Republican party at the time, even when he was only a junior congressman from Ohio his oratory skills were lauded by his colleagues. Garfield presents a wonderful opportunity of what could have been because of his political skill, his personality, and his desire for government reform and racial equality. Had Garfield been able to serve even just one full presidential term he might be remembered as far more than a presidential footnote.

Guiteau, by contrast, did not lead a very successful life and considering his mental illness this is not much of a surprise. And based on what Millard described, Guiteau definitely qualifies for some sort of personality disorder, although since I'm not a psychologist I can't define it with any precision. Guiteau spent much of his life wandering from place to place, unable to hold down a job, and trying to avoid creditors. Guiteau spent much of his life borrowing money from acquaintances, promising to pay it back once he got a check that was due to him any day now and purchasing many items for a down payment and failing to pay the remainder of the bill, as well as fleeing from boarding houses in the middle of the night. Most importantly, Guiteau suffered from persistent delusions. Guiteau believed that god had designated him for some special purpose and that a speech Guiteau had written (and had never delivered) was critical to getting Garfield elected. As a result, Guiteau assumed that a duly grateful Garfield would appoint him to some high office, first a consulate in Vienna and later as the general consul in Paris.

Garfield and his staff, receiving the letters and visits from a man who they deemed no more than an eccentric and persistent nuisance of an office seeker, simply stalled him until Blaine, now secretary of state, finally grew tired of Guiteau's inquiries and told him to stop asking about the Paris consulate. Guiteau, taken aback by these remarks, turned on Garfield and his administration and came to believe that god had told him to kill Garfield, ensuring a change in administration for which he would be duly rewarded. Finally, on July 2nd of 1881, Guiteau succeeded in shooting Garfield in the back at the Baltimore and Potomac train station.

The most tragic irony of all of this is that Garfield probably would have survived this assassination attempt and, if he had lived in the modern era, he'd probably be up and walking after a few days in the hospital. Although the bullet had shattered ribs and nicked an artery, it came safely to a rest behind Garfield's pancreas and even without the bullet being removed he probably would have survived. However, due to the unsanitary medical practices of the time, Garfield ended up with a terminal case of internal gangrene and quite literally rotted from the inside out.

Immediately after he was shot, Garfield was carried upstairs in the train station and several doctors probed the president's wound. Some utilized their bare hands, and some utilized a variety of probes, but none of these objects were sterilized before being inserted into the president. Germ theory and the process of sterilization had been relatively new developments to medical science and largely considered false by Americans. The idea that tiny, invisible creatures could make people sick and just by washing your hands and instruments in carbolic acid could prevent this seemed fairly suspicious to them at the time. After Garfield's agonizing death, and the revelation that he had died not from the bullet, but rather from sepsis, American medical science quickly began to accept that maybe there was something to this germ theory after all. However it would take the assassination of William McKinley for the American public to begin to think that maybe the president needed some protection and not just anyone could walk right into the White House.

Overall I thought this book was really interesting. There are a lot of different tangents to this book, such as Alexander Graham Bell (who I hadn't mentioned in the review) who developed a metal detector in an attempt to find the bullet and help save Garfield's life. However, I think they all manage to work together quite well and the result is a satisfactory book. It is interesting to learn about a president that isn't frequently talked about because of the short time he spent in office and Guiteau makes an interesting character by himself. If you're interested in nineteenth century America and learning more about one of the ''placeholder'' presidents or medical science at the time, this book is definitely worth checking out.

- Kalpar

The Sun and the Moon, by Matthew Goodman

Today I'm looking at a history of one of the most famous newspaper hoaxes of the nineteenth century, when Richard Adams Locke wrote a series of articles purportedly about discoveries made by Sir John Herschel with a new type of telescope that discovered the existence of life, including sentient life, on the moon. When the story it was widely circulated and reprinted in newspapers across the United States and later the world, with many people arguing over its veracity. However, this book talks about quite a few other subjects beyond the moon story, putting it within historical context.

The early nineteenth century saw developments in printing technology, which had remained fairly unchanged since the fifteenth century. Printing presses could previously only produce about two hundred and fifty copies an hour, but the invention of cylindrical presses and application of steam power meant thousands of copies could be produced cheaply and quickly. By the 1830's the United States saw the development of the penny press, daily newspapers that cost only a penny making them affordable to far more people than the six cent papers at the time. The penny press exploded newspaper readership in the United States and also dramatically changed the content of newspapers. Previously focused towards the upper classes interested in financial and international news, penny papers focused on local news, sports, true crime stories, and the introduction of humorous and not always true anecdotes.

Goodman goes into considerable detail talking about the nineteenth century institution of ''humbugs'', stories or objects that might be real or might not be, the foundation of P.T. Barnum's career. (A biography of Barnum makes up a significant part of this book as well.) And I'm pretty sure society hasn't changed much considering the popularity of urban legends and other stories that may not be true, but have just enough verisimilitude to make their veracity plausible. The thrill then, as of now, is debating whether the story actually is true and so humbugs, both in Barnum's museum and on the pages of newspapers, made endless entertainment fodder for the nineteenth century.

I have a couple of criticisms about this book, but they're fairly minor. The first is that I feel like this book kind of lacked focus. Goodman jumped between talking about Benjamin Day and his creation of The Sun, New York's first successful penny press, talking about Richard Adam Locke's life and career, P.T. Barnum's life and career, and even the life and career of Edgar Allan Poe. Granted, all these subjects are interrelated. It's difficult to talk about Locke's moon story without first talking about the newspaper it was published in. Barnum is a great example of how hoaxes were popular entertainment and how newspapers helped spread them. And Poe himself wrote a story about a voyage to the moon shortly before Locke wrote his own story. The problem is it feels like Goodman had two or three different topics he wanted to write about but he didn't have enough material to make any one of them into a book by itself so he melded them together. So yes, they're connected, but it still feels disjointed to me.

The other issue I had, and this is purely because I'm a trained historian, is that Goodman goes into purple prose territory at times, making grand, literary statements. Really the only reason I take issue with this is because I personally don't think it's proper historical writing, but that's really a personal bugbear of mine. If you're a casual reader of history it probably won't bother you too much.

Finally Goodman tries to argue towards the end of his book that Locke's moon writings were supposed to be from the beginning, as Locke claimed much later, an elaborate satire of religious astronomy. During the early nineteenth century astronomy was the science most in concord with religion and many religious figures argued that other worlds must be inhabited by beings to further increase the glory of God. Some would go on to say that these beings from other worlds would be in a state of natural grace, having never fallen to sin like humanity did, so their worlds would be paradises. The problem I have with this argument is Goodman doesn't devote considerably much time to it in his book. The inclusion of P.T. Barnum and other examples of humbugs, hoaxes, and diddles certainly undermines Goodman's assertion that Locke's work was meant to be a satire and he devotes considerably less time talking about it than the hoaxes.

Overall, I thought this book was interesting. It feels disjointed because it talks about a lot of different things which are related, but it gives a good view of the culture of nineteenth century New York. If any of the topics listed in the (fairly long) title interest you, I think this book is worth taking the time to check out.

- Kalpar

Hear that Lonesome Whistle Blow: The Epic Story of the Transcontinental Railroads, by Dee Brown

As has been established time and again on this blog, I like trains, so it'll come as absolutely no surprise to anybody that I'm talking about them yet again. And don't worry! They'll come back! I've got at least two more books to read just about trains!

This book deals specifically with the history of the transcontinental railroads built during the later half of the nineteenth century. I actually read another book about this very topic called Railroaded which goes far more in depth about the railroads than Brown does in this book. This is definitely far more of a general overview of the transcontinental railroads as a historical subject so it's good if you're unfamiliar with material and doesn't get too bogged down in technical details. If you're looking for something a little more substantial or in-depth then Railroaded is definitely superior in that regard.

The transcontinental railroads of the United States are an interesting topic because there was no real financial reason for them to exist. Railroads in the eastern parts of the United States were often built to connect existing settlements and ease transportation issues that had been partly but not completely solved by a combination of river and canal transportation. The Pennsylvania Railroad, the largest railroad in the United States and so solid it did not collapse into bankruptcy during the Great Depression, is the ultimate example of the eastern railroad. The western railroads, however, were going into vast territories inhabited only by the numerous Indian nations who had no interest or more frequently were opposed to the introduction of railroads into their lands. Perhaps a line of communication between east and west would be strategically necessary, but there was little economic incentive for a railroad of continent-spanning size.

As a result, the railroads crossing the western United States were largely subsidized through the federal government in a variety of ways. The Central Pacific and Union Pacific got cash for every mile of usable track laid, as well as extensive land grants, and their bonds backed by the federal government. Other railroads such as the Santa Fe eschewed cash payments in exchange for significantly greater land grants, providing the railroads with extensive opportunities for profit entirely divorced from actually running a profitable railroad. The bountiful opportunities for corruption, graft, and financial manipulation brought dozens of robber barons to exploit and gut the transcontinental railroads, leaving the United States with five barely-functioning railroad networks crossing the west.

Brown does a pretty good job covering the major points of the story of the transcontinental railroads, which weren't exactly the heroic nation-building exercises they sometimes get portrayed as in popular history. That being said, I do have a couple of issues with Brown's book at least one of which is because of when it was written. This book actually dates from the 1970's, which were a dark, dark decade for railroads in the United States. Penn Central, the poorly-planned merger between the Pennsylvania and New York Central railroads, had gone bankrupt and the issues of numerous other railroads led to the government takeover of all passenger operations with Amtrak and reforms to railroad regulation. An industry that even fifty years prior was central to America had become an obsolete relic. Many historians of railroads at this time had bitter and angry things to say about the railroad companies, and Brown is no exception.

While this is fair for the time period, and Amtrak service hasn't improved greatly either, at least where I live, it definitely dates the book. And considering how many emotions are tied up to the collapse of the railroads in the 1970s, it's hard for me to really make an objective assessment of the period because of the number of emotions involved. It's truly a curious phenomenon and I wonder if there will be history on it at a later point.

The other thing that bothered me was the disparity in Brown's coverage of Indian experiences and black and Chinese experiences with the railroads. Brown goes into great detail about the experiences of the Indians, as their titles to land supposedly guaranteed by treaty are rapidly extinguished to make way for railroads and the associated land grants. And of course there is much to be said about how the railroad, by splitting the buffalo herds and making them even easier for white hunters to exterminate, hastened the demise of the traditional way of life for many plains Indians. And Brown has every right to be furious as she is about the treatment of Indians.

But by comparison her coverage of the Chinese and black experiences with the railroads go far less in-depth. What I most remembered was her briefly mentioning the usage of black convict labor and Pullman Porters. Now, there is a whole in-depth exploration of the peonage system created in the United States after the Civil War that made it incredibly easy for black men to be convicted for trivial offenses and then leased as convict labor to farms, mines, and railroads as basically slaves. If you're ever interested in learning more about peonage, I highly recommend the PBS documentary Slavery by Another Name. Suffice to say that in the south, including Texas, black convict labor was often employed to build railroads. And even where free black men were employed, they faced lower wages, discrimination, and violence from white railroad workers. And of course Chinese railroad workers faced the same issues as their black counterparts. These are huge issues that just sort of get glossed over in this book and feels like a missed opportunity.

Brown also mentions Pullman Porters, one of the best jobs available to black men in the United States, but fairly low-paying compared to other railroad workers and working as a servant for the benefit of the passengers. Pullman Porters, and by extension many railroad porters, have been referred to as ''George'' regardless of their actual name. Brown mentions this as in honor of their employer, George Pullman, owner of the Pullman company. The problem is that this was hardly an honor for the porters. It has been conjectured, although I have not found any strong evidence for this so far, that the Pullman Porters were called George because that was the name of their employer or ''master''. Even the simple fact that white passengers couldn't be bothered to learn the names of their porters reflects the second class status Pullman Porters were relegated to as black men. I think it is grossly misinformed to call this behavior an honor.

Issues aside, this is pretty good for a general history. As I said, it doesn't go terribly in-depth but covers the major highlights of the history of transcontinental railroads in the late nineteenth century in the United States. If you're looking for basic information this is a good start, but there are other sources that go far more in-depth.

- Kalpar

Thomas Jefferson and the Tripoli Pirates, by Brian Kilmeade and Don Yaeger

Today I'm looking at a history of the Barbary Wars, the conflict between the early United States and the Barbary States of Northern Africa in the early nineteenth century. This was a fairly small conflict, all things considered, and despite initial setbacks it ended with a United States victory which proved that even the fairly weak United States of the era could project its power across the globe.

In the late eighteenth and early twentieth centuries, a handful of states such as Morocco and Tripoli engaged in large-scale piracy around the Straits of Gibraltar, an important shipping lane. These pirates would attack European vessels and take the crews and ships hostage, ransoming them back to the European powers. Most of the European powers at the time entered into arrangements with the Barbary States where sums of money would be paid to the Barbary States in exchange for freedom from harassment for their merchant shipping. Most European powers found the payments easier and less onerous than dispatching a military expedition, so they were content to simply buy peace.

When the United States became independent of Great Britain, however, its sailors and merchant marine lost the protections of the Union Jack. American ships and sailors were soon seized in increasing numbers by the Barbary States and had to be ransomed at exorbitant prices. When the United States, still effectively broke after the war debts of the American Revolution, tried to negotiate with the Barbary States, they found themselves mostly unable to meet the demands for payment. After years of negotiation and frustration, the United States finally gave up and dispatched its fledgling navy to the Mediterranean to provide a more forceful resolution to the conflict. After some initial setbacks, the United States managed to get enough of its military power in the Atlantic at once to force the Barbary States to favorable terms.

My biggest concern with this book was some of the tone that the book took. At the beginning and the end of the book, Kilmeade and Yaeger make a very, very half-hearted attempt to connect the war between the United States and the muslim Barbary pirates with the ongoing conflict between the United States and extremist muslim groups, mostly in the Middle East. I say this is half-hearted because they basically say, ''There are some parallels'' and then fail to provide any evidence or even a fleshed out argument on how these two events, separated by two centuries, are similar. Personally I find very little similarity between the two conflicts. The Barbary States were utilizing their geographic position for economic gain through criminal activities, much like how piracy has been common in recent times in areas such as Somalia and Indonesia. Geography simply provides an opportunity for pirates. The ongoing conflict between extremist muslims and the United States is a far more global and asymmetric conflict with a strong ideological component. I don't think it's fair to claim that both these conflicts were the same just because it features the United States fighting muslim populations. By that logic, the U.S. occupation of the Philippines would be the exact same conflict as well. I was worried that this would be the main theme of the book but as far as I can tell it remains mostly to the facts and doesn't devolve too much into an ideological tract.

Another thing that concerns me is that the audio book version I listened to was read by Brian Kilmeade himself, one of the authors. Kilmeade gets very excited during some of his writing and downright indignant at some of the things that were done by Barbary pirates to American citizens, such as the horrible conditions of slavery Americans endured. Now, I'm not saying that this is bad, but I don't think it's terribly fair for Kilmeade to get so dreadfully indignant about the situation. The Barbary pirates were fairly small-time operators , especially compared to the millions of people who were exploited by the Trans-Atlantic Slave Trade and the American Internal Slave Trade. The authors make a big point of Jefferson's authorship of the Declaration of Independence and the principle of America being a land of freedom, but this blatantly ignores the hypocrisy inherent in the American system. Slavery was one of the engines of America's early economic growth and Jefferson benefitted from it personally as a Virginia labor camp owner. To pit the conflict as a struggle between the despotic and evil Barbary States and the heroic and democratic United States is a gross oversimplification and blithely ignores the inherent inequality of past and even current America.

Overall I'd say this book is okay. I don't know terribly much about the Barbary Wars so I can't say how well this is researched but for the most part it seems to stick to the facts rather than engaging in ideological rants. Even when it does, Kilmeade and Yaeger don't go beyond a cursory attempt. Despite my concerns, I think this is a good source for basic information about this event in American history.

- Kalpar

Team of Rivals: The Political Genius of Abraham Lincoln, by Doris Kearns Goodwin

Today I'm looking at another book by Doris Kearns Goodwin, some of you might remember my review of one of her other books, The Bully Pulpit. Team of Rivals deals with the life of not only Abraham Lincoln, but also the lives of the initial members of his cabinet such as Secretary of State William Seward, Attorney General Edward Bates, Secretary of the Treasury Salmon P. Chase, and Secretary of War Edwin Stanton. Several of these men were actually competitors for the Republican nomination for president in 1860, but simply did not have enough support to clinch the nomination on the first ballot. As Goodwin illustrates in her book, Lincoln had the political expertise to build a coalition that saw him as the best second choice and allowed him to secure the nomination on the third ballot. Lincoln went on to include many of these men within his Cabinet, ensuring that he would be exposed to a broad range of political opinions representing the spectrum of the Republican party. From the conservative leaning Bates and Montgomery Blair, to the radical Chase, Lincoln was able to synthesize a middle-ground policy that was palatable to the majority of the Republican party and kept the fractious coalition together through the struggle of the Civil War.

As Goodwin explains in considerable detail, Lincoln was at a relative disadvantage compared to his competitors for the nomination of president in 1860. Lincoln alone did not have the benefit of a university education or a privileged background. Although definitely doing very well for himself in 1860 with a comfortable income, Lincoln had struggled up from a dirt-poor background and was largely self-taught. Lincoln's greatest strength, however, was his ability to connect with people and form loyal and lasting friendships, despite setbacks. Goodwin makes an excellent contrast between Lincoln and Chase. During his ascent through political offices, Chase, made numerous deals and often abandoned his allies when that relationship was no longer convenient for him, earning him the enmity of relationships he could have leveraged to his benefit later on. Lincoln, by contrast, was incredibly magnanimous in defeat and remained loyal to his political allies, even when it meant surrendering opportunities for advancement such as one of Illinois's Senate seats. Because Lincoln sought to maintain his relationships with his friends and allies, he had the long-term advantage of a broad base of support when he finally ran for president.

Because of Lincoln's relative lack of higher education, many people assumed other members of the Cabinet, Seward especially, would be the guiding force behind government policy. To the contrary reams upon reams of documents, both official and unofficial, clearly show that Lincoln was always in control of his Cabinet. While there were fractious disputes, especially in the rivalry between Chase and Blair, Lincoln ultimately was in control of the Cabinet. While willing and able to listen to advice and dissent from his advisors, Lincoln always made his own decision based on what he thought best for the country.

What emerges is the image of Lincoln as the consummate statesman. And perhaps this book is a little on the hagiographic side; it is after all difficult to look upon the Great Emancipator without some degree of awe. But Goodwin makes a compelling argument that Lincoln's personality, including his sense of humor, his oratorical abilities, his literary talent, and his ability to make friends with anyone and never hold grudges, make him appear a solid individual. There are countless examples where Lincoln behaved in a manner we would seldom expect someone in a position of authority to do. Whether it was take responsibility for a bad decision rather than dumping the blame on a subordinate, or never holding angry or unkind words against a person, Lincoln always maintained an attitude of kindness, generosity, and magnanimity. He really comes across in this book as probably the kindest and best person we ever had as president.

I would definitely recommend this book to anyone interested in nineteenth century American history and learning more not only about Abraham Lincoln, but also the men in his cabinet who helped steer America through one of its greatest crises. My opinion of Salmon P. Chase, who helped shape how much of our modern banking system works, has definitely gone down because of his bad attitude and willingness to abandon friends. And my frustration with George McClellan, who occasionally fancied himself a good candidate for dictator of the United States and had a very low opinion of Lincoln, has gone up as well. It does get kind of dense going into the lives of several people, but I think it's well worth the effort.

- Kalpar

For All the Tea in China, by Sarah Rose

Today I'm looking at For All the Tea in China, by Sarah Rose, which is a really good example of how I need to actually read the summaries for some of these books before I decide to check them out from the library. I thought this book would focus more on the Opium Wars where Britain forced China open to the opium trade to rectify a balance of payments problem with their importation of tons of tea from China. Instead, this book focuses more on the efforts of the East India Company to obtain tea plants, whether seeds or saplings, and transplant them in British-controlled India where they could significantly decrease both the costs of importing tea and the travel time to London. The book focuses largely on Robert Fortune, a Scottish botanist who spent several years in China gathering not only tea plants but other practical and ornamental plants which became very popular in the newly gardening-obsessed Britain.

Rose does briefly mention the Opium Wars as part of the historical background of the tea trade, and the need for Britain to stop silver from flooding out of Britain into China for the tons upon tons of tea that Britons were drinking every year. However the book mostly focuses on how the East India Company was going to lose their monopoly on the tea trade, and all other trade in Asia, and their attempts to reduce the costs of obtaining tea. If the Company was able to raise tea in Company-controlled India, they'd have a significant advantage over other companies that would still have to go to China for their tea. The problem, however, was that the methods of raising and producing tea were closely guarded secrets in China which no foreigner had been able to see.

As Rose states, Fortune was basically involved in an act of industrial espionage trying to steal trade secrets. And while I get the sense that's supposed to be frowned upon, I also get the feeling Rose sees it as a triumph of Western ingenuity. The version I listened to was actually read by Rose herself, so I assume all of the inflections and intonations in the reading are genuine to her intentions with the book. And I can't shake the feeling she looks on the imperial ambitions of Britain and the East India Company with something approaching pride. There's almost a skirting around the brutal treatment of foreigners in colonial systems, the ability of the Company to pay absurdly low wages for workers on their tea plantations in India which enabled much lower prices of tea overall. The theft and introduction of tea is seen not so much as one of many examples of European colonialism, but a daring adventure by swashbuckling heroes.

And that's honestly what bothers me the most about this book, the fact that it's fairly recent and feels almost supportive of British Imperialism. Maybe I'm seeing something that's not really there, but it's a vibe that I can't just seem to shake. My concern only grows because of Rose's free-market advocacy. Which isn't to say that there aren't many arguments still going on about the efficacy of the free market, but I feel like her assumption monopolies are inherently wasteful borders on the dogmatic. As an example she points out the East Indiamen merchant ships used by the Company. She argues that the large ships were slow and inefficient and it was only after the introduction of competition in the market that faster, sleeker ships were introduced. Ignoring the fact that well before the fastest of sailing ships were introduced, captains still had competitions to get their tea to London first because of the premiums the first shipment of tea would receive.

And finally there's Rose's argument, although I feel calling it an argument gives it too much credence, that the switch to tea from alcoholic drinks gave Britain an edge in industrialization. While seeing how the introduction of tea, as well as the calories from the sugar and milk added to tea, changed British society overall, I think saying it alone was responsible for making Britain an industrial powerhouse while France and Germany lagged behind because of a constantly inebriated population is bordering on the preposterous. Why Britain led Europe in industrialization is a complex question with multiple answers. Access to iron and coal that allowed the creation of steam engines and other mechanical devices, financial institutions and people with sufficient capital to finance innovations in machinery, and the demand for advances in a growing textile trade. While any one of these is insufficient alone to explain it, they all contribute to explain Britain's development as an industrial power. A shift from alcohol to tea seems insufficient.

I think my biggest problem isn't factual accuracy because as far as I can tell Rose did her research, it's more the interpretation that she takes from those facts which bothers me. She seems oddly pro-imperialism in her narrative, although again that's my own interpretation. She also advances some pretty tenuous theories which cast doubt onto a lot of her other work. Overall I guess the book is okay but it raises some doubts for me.

- Kalpar

Eighty Days, by Matthew Goodman

Today I'm looking at a book about the first official race by an individual to circumnavigate the globe in eighty days or less. A long, long time ago I actually talked about the book that inspired this challenge, which remains a classic piece of literature. What may surprise some people is that a female reporter, Nellie Bly, was the first person to accomplish this feat in seventy-two days. What is even less known is that there were actually two women attempting to circumnavigate the world at the same time. While Nellie Bly was travelling east for The World newspaper, Elizabeth Bisland had been sent west by Cosmopolitan in an attempt to beat Nellie Bly at her own challenge. While Bly remains famous in large part because of her trip around the world, Bisland remains practically unknown today.  In this work Goodman not only talks about the lives of both women, but also the world which they circumnavigated.

Goodman spends some time comparing and contrasting both Bly and Bisland. Bly, born Elizabeth Cochran in Pennsylvania, was the daughter of a prominent local merchant, however her father's death left her mother and her siblings fairly destitute and forced Nellie's mother and Nellie to work for a living. Nellie did a variety of odd jobs before sending a letter to a Pittsburgh newspaper to protest an article stating a woman's proper sphere was in the home. Bly soon found herself hired as a female reporter and eventually made her way to New York. Despite strong opposition to women in the newspaper field, most of them being relegated to the society pages, Bly became an undercover investigative journalist. Her first report was to infiltrate the Blackwell Island Insane Asylum and report on the abhorrent conditions there, truly sensational news, but she investigated working conditions and corruption throughout New York.

Elizabeth Bisland was born to a slave-owning family in Louisiana and actually spent a good portion of the Civil War in New York. After the Civil War, the Bisland family found much of their wealth destroyed and their existence considerably more difficult. However, Elizabeth grew up in a literature-rich environment, reading many English novels during her childhood and having the experience of her poet mother. Bisland eventually sent a poem to a local newspaper and was delighted when it was published, launching a literary career that eventually also took her to New York. While Bly was doing investigative journalism for the daily newspaper The World, Bisland was doing reviews of new literature for the monthly magazine Cosmopolitan. While Bly seems the perfect individual to send on a globe-trotting adventure, Bisland was extremely reluctant to go and did not enjoy the attention being involved in a global race brought her.

This book is rather wide in its focus, going well beyond the adventures of Bly and Bisland as they raced around the world. And this is fairly understandable as, once Bly and Bisland were on a train or steamship, there wasn't quite a lot for them to do but wait. The biographies of both women are helpful and it's interesting to see what happened to both of them after the race was over. Bisland happily faded into relative obscurity, being the runner-up in the race, and continued with her writing career, while Bly enjoyed a brief surge of popularity. Unfortunately Bly became involved with a libel lawsuit brought against The World and left the newspaper. She struggled for a number of years before marrying a millionaire which later brought its own set of problems. In her later years Bly returned to newspaper reporting and remained a champion for the poor and marginalized.

In addition to talking about the women sent around the world, Goodman spends a good chunk of time talking about the world that they saw. He talks about the newspaper industry as it had grown in the late nineteenth century, dominated by individuals such as Joseph Pulitzer and William Randolph Hearst who had their own fierce rivalry. Goodman also talks about the travel conditions during the era, whether by train or by the ocean-going steamers which were the only means of long-distance travel in the late nineteenth century. There is a particularly fascinating segment about conditions in the boiler rooms of steamships which I found especially interesting. There is some time spent about the various locations that Bly and Bisland were able to visit, such as Bly's visit with Jules Verne in France or Bisland's stay in Yokohama, but Goodman does a good job of emphasizing how both women spent most of their time racing around the world travelling rather than taking in the sights.

I do want to say one of the things I noticed which got mentioned by contemporaries again and again was the physical appearance of both Bly and Bisland, something which women are still struggling with a hundred and twenty years later. Both women were accomplished writers within their own subject fields, but contemporaries describing them felt it was necessary to describe both women as attractive. Even today talented and accomplished women get comments on their physical appearance, while men do not. So in a way it's kind of frustrating that we're still struggling against attitudes that are well over a century old.

Overall I think this book was okay. Goodman stretches the book out by providing a lot of background context, but I think that's really necessary for most readers to understand the world that Bly and Bisland were exploring in the 1890's. Plus I think it's important to talk about Elizabeth Bisland who was press-ganged into doing what basically amounted to a publicity stunt with no preparation whatsoever. I also enjoy the irony of the first person going around the world in less than eighty days being unable to vote at the time. Anyway, if you're interested in badass women of history this is definitely worth checking out.

- Kalpar

Twelve Years a Slave, by Solomon Northup

This week I'm doing something a little different and looking at an autobiography which is a little outside the bounds of what I normally review on this blog. However, it is historical so it definitely aligns within my interests. Also this book was on the list of: Probably should have read but never quite got around to it. And since I could download this as an audiobook it seemed as good a time as any.

Twelve Years a Slave, which was turned into a major motion picture about three years ago, is the autobiographical account by Solomon Northup, who was a free black man born in New York in the early nineteenth century, did a variety of jobs, and had a wife and family. In 1841 two men, who claimed they were circus performers, enticed Northup to come and play violin at their performances in exchange for fairly good wages. Northup agreed and eventually followed the gentlemen all the way to Washington D.C. where Northup took ill. When Northup regained consciousness he found himself chained in a slave pen, despite his protestations that he was a free man. Northup was put on a ship to New Orleans and shipped to Louisiana where he spent twelve years working in slave labor camps until a Canadian carpenter helped Northup send letters to people in New York explaining his situation, which ended with Northup's emancipation and reunion with his family.

When this book was published, a decade within the Civil War, it was highly influential in spreading information about slavery to Northerners and strengthening the abolitionist cause. Although less well known than Uncle Tom's Cabin or The Autobiography of Frederick Douglass, it raised awareness of the issue that free blacks in both the south and the north could be kidnapped and sold into slavery, much like Northup had. It also provides another important first-hand account of what slavery really was like for the enslaved.

There are a couple of things I found rather interesting in this book. First of all the first man who owned Northup, a planter by the name of Ford, is described in glowing terms. Northup goes out of his way to praise Ford and describe him as a better slave owner, despite the inherent wickedness of the institution of slavery. It's very interesting to me that Northup says slavery was almost tolerable under Ford and if he had his family he probably wouldn't have minded it so much. Taken out of context it could be pro-slavery propaganda. However, Northup still feels a deep injustice at the institution and states that it debases not only slaves, but the enslavers, and argues Ford would have been an even better man without the institution of slavery.

Another thing I found interesting was how easy it was for Northup to prove his free status in Louisiana. The agent sent by the State of New York, another gentleman named Northup (actually the descendent of the family that owned Solomon's father before freeing him), seemed to have little difficulty in convincing the Louisiana authorities that Northup was in fact a free man from New York and should be released at once. The greatest difficulty seemed to be in finding where exactly Northup had ended up. For one, his name had been changed to Platt, taking even that basic element of identity from him. Secondly, Northup has been sold twice by the time he managed to get letters sent to New York and wasn't able to provide an exact location of where he was. But once Northup was located it seemed like they couldn't get him out of Louisiana fast enough and were happy to see the last of him. It's very curious to me to say the least.

I have to admit, for real life the narrative is almost too tidy and does make a very good movie plot. Northup is lured away from home, forced into captivity, spends time with both cruel and kind masters, finds a friendly abolitionist, manages to send letters, and is eventually freed and reunited with his family. I doubt there was very little revision necessary to make this a movie, although I have to admit I haven't seen it myself. But I am fairly satisfied that Northup managed to be justly freed through the process of law.

Overall it's an interesting book and not terribly long so it's worth the time. If you're familiar with the institution of slavery this might not cover a lot of new ground, but if you haven't learned a lot on the subject there's plenty to learn here and I highly recommend it.

- Kalpar

The Half Has Never Been Told: Slavery and the Making of American Capitalism, by Edward Baptist

This week I'm talking about another economic history book, although this one goes back into the very late eighteenth and the first half of the nineteenth century. Specifically the economics of slavery and its spread through the United States until the treasonous rebellion of 1861 was crushed and millions of men, women, and children were set free from the chains of human bondage.

cough I may be a rabid Unionist and Abolitionist.

Anyway, The Half Has Never Been Told actually seeks to deconstruct long-standing historical myths surrounding slavery in the United States, specifically two. The first, which doesn't stand up to very close scrutiny, is the myth that slavery was a benign, paternal institution where white masters ''civilized'' and ''took care of'' black slaves. This argument is absurdly and blatantly racist, assuming that African-Americans needed the institution of slavery to ''tame'' them in some way. During the more overtly racist eras of American history, up until the 1960's, this lame excuse was accepted as a matter of dogma. And I hate to say it, but some parts of the United States still believe slavery was a benign institution.

Fortunately, there is plenty of evidence of the ruthless brutality of slavery: the horrors of the internal slave trade, the breaking of families for profit, the many ingenious tortures utilized by whites to extract even more work from slaves. Rape, intimidation, and murder were all a part of daily life for African-Americans in the slave labor camps of the ante-bellum South. Truly it takes an act of willful denial to say slavery was in any way good or gentle and I think we're getting to a point where this argument can't be taken seriously anymore.

The second big argument, which is slightly more subtle, also carries the tones of historical determinism. There has been a long-standing assumption that slave labor is inherently less efficient than free labor, mainly because free labor usually gets to enjoy the rewards of their hard work providing motivation that simply isn't there in a slave labor system. This historical argument has been that slavery was economically inefficient in the American South, simply could not have kept up with the rapidly industrializing North, and would eventually have been doomed to extinction.

Baptist, however, goes to great lengths to prove how slavery very likely wouldn't have gone extinct in the near future and possibly could have expanded beyond the cotton belt. Baptist begins by pointing out that the cotton boom in the American South actually changed the institution of slavery in the New World. Slavery had previously been utilized for two crops: sugar and tobacco. Both were high profit and extremely labor intensive crops in areas which had chronic labor shortages, which prompted Europeans to cause the forced migration of Africans to the Americas as slaves. By the late 1700's, though, there was a surplus of slave labor in the Americas and the landed gentry of Virginia and the Carolinas were becoming increasingly concerned that a revolt would be likely if their numbers continued to rise.

The invention of the cotton gin in 1794 dramatically changed the nature of slavery in America. Cotton was truly big business and the textile mills of Britain and later New England had an insatiable demand for the fiber. However, once again, demands for labor in the prime cotton-growing territory was high and the supply was extremely low, which prompted a growing internal trade of slaves from Virginia and North Carolina to Georgia, Alabama, and Mississippi. And as the country expanded, slavery expanded wherever cotton would bloom. An inhuman institution that was becoming redundant once again became a major source of profit.

But how can we tell that slavery wasn't economically inefficient? It seems to go against all common sense. But Baptist makes a very convincing argument by pointing at simple numbers. From the 1790's up until 1859 the amount of cotton harvested steadily increased, well beyond increases in the population of slaves forced across the South. Although there were some drop offs because of economic panics, overall the increase was tremendous. However, after the war when forced labor is no longer used, the amount of cotton harvested decreases significantly, despite continued demand. In fact the record levels of 1859 would not be reached until much later, with significantly more people working in harvesting cotton. Baptist rather successfully in my opinion, argues that the use of whips and other implements of torture actually made forced labor more efficient than paid labor, but at tremendous human cost.

Furthermore, if you look at the actions of southern planters leading up to their treason of 1861, they clearly didn't expect slavery to go away any time soon. In fact the political maneuvers of the 1850's made it abundantly clear Southern planters wanted to expand slavery wherever they could, whether it be Cuba, California, or Kansas. They even began making constitutional arguments that slaves could even be held in free states, making the term free state a mockery and driving free state whites into a panic. By 1860 the northerners had been pushed around long enough and finally put their foot down with a resounding no to the expansion of slavery and the election of Abraham Lincoln. And we know the rest of the story from there.

I've really only covered a fraction of what's talked about in this book. Baptist provides a lot of anecdotal evidence, biographies of specific slaves that have survived and give remarkable inside views into the institution of slavery. Personally I think this is the weakest part because Baptist tends to embellish, turning these narratives almost into historical fiction rather than history, supposing what many of the people might have done during their lives. Being the cranky historian I am, I wanted him to stick to the facts rather than editorialize, but it certainly gives slavery a very human element which is important in telling the tale.

Baptist also points out how slavery allowed the South to dominate the United States politically in the early years, until increased immigration starting in the 1830's dramatically shifted the population to the North. And he also makes strong arguments that slavery and the cotton it produced allowed the Industrial Revolution, kick-started by Britain's textile mills, to take off and create our industrialized world. It's a lot of material to cover, but I think aside from a few problematic portions Baptist does a pretty good job. And this is a story that doesn't just deserve to be told. It needs to be told. Definitely worth the read.

- Kalpar