Western Fights Given More Than Fair Credit
Byline: Tom O'Brien, SPECIAL TO THE WASHINGTON TIMES
So many studies emphasize the Virginia front that any good book on the Civil War in the West is noteworthy. Any book claiming battles in the West decided the war demands special attention. Such is "Where the South Lost the Civil War," by Kendall Gott, a military historian who is unafraid (like his hero Ulysses S. Grant) of daring assertiveness. But does he prove his point?
Aided by ironclads operating on Kentucky and northern Tennessee rivers, Grant took Forts Henry and Donelson in February 1862. Confederate prisoners exceeded 12,000. Worse, Confederate armies had to abandon central Kentucky to the east and, to the west, their impregnable position at Columbus, on the Mississippi. The Confederacy never held Tennessee again; its other Western states were forever after vulnerable. "It was here," Mr. Gott says, "the inexorable decline of the Confederacy began."
Mr. Gott writes well about strategic issues on the Western front. Jefferson Davis' decision to defend all Confederate territory had different consequences in the West than the East, where the narrow Washington-Richmond corridor and the northwest-southeast flow of rivers toward the Atlantic was an advantage to the defense. In the West, there was too much land to defend - as well as rivers, such as the Cumberland and the Tennessee, whose north-south angles made them natural routes for invasion. Given Grant's skill in coordinating ground actions with new ironclads commanded by Andrew Hull Foote, geography made the Southern heartland in the West far more vulnerable.
Mr. Gott also provides strong, well-researched portraits of leaders and leadership, not just Grant, but his subordinate Lew Wallace, who kept his head during a severe counterattack at Fort Donelson, and the Southern cavalry genius Nathan Bedford Forrest, whose legend began there. The author also provides fresh sketches of nonmilitary figures, such as St. Louis shipbuilder James B. Eads, who basically created the Federal inland navy.
Mr. Gott shows that Federal soldiers fought well when well led - as they were in the West - while stumbling (until the middle of the war) in the East. Grant ranks first among the Union generals.
A West Point enrollment mistake made Hiram Ulysses into "Ulysses Simpson" Grant; victory at Fort Donelson gave him the nickname "Unconditional Surrender." Grant became a press hero for sending such terms to the last Fort Donelson commander, Simon Bolivar Buckner, who called them "ungenerous and unchivalrous."
Mr. Gott sagely notes, however, that Grant's actual treatment of prisoners was quite courteous, foreshadowing Appomattox. This was vital, the author argues. Early in the war, without guidance, some Union commanders wanted punitive treatment of "rebels." Grant's courtesy to POWs sent a seductive message, Mr. Gott observes: Surrender to this man was no disaster.
Bitter rivalry divided Southern generals, especially Buckner and Gideon Pillow, whose rash actions, at odd times brilliant, alienated many. Both were commanded by John B. Floyd, secretary of war under President James Buchanan. The Federals wanted Floyd arrested for shipping munitions south before the war began. The trio mismanaged the defense of Donelson, which Mr. Gott terms a "fiasco."
He reserves highest blame - as did Southern newspapers - for department commander Albert Sidney Johnston, who let the forts become isolated. …