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Wednesday, May 13, 2026
Review - "William Watson and the Rob Roy: The Adventures of a Civil War Blockade Runner" by Walter Wilson
[William Watson and the Rob Roy: The Adventures of a Civil War Blockade Runner by Walter E. Wilson (McFarland, 2026). Softcover, maps, tables, photos, illustrations, appendix section, endnotes, bibliography, index. Pages main/total:vi,157/250. ISBN:978-1-4766-9903-5. $39.95]
A British citizen but long-term resident of Louisiana, Scotland's William Bryant Watson joined many other foreign nationals in being caught up in the whirlwind of America's Civil War. Volunteering with the Third Louisiana infantry regiment, Sergeant Watson fought at Wilson's Creek and Pea Ridge, and in October of 1862 he was wounded at Second Corinth. Returning home to recover, Watson eventually decided to switch gears and engage in the potentially lucrative pursuit of blockade running out of Texas. His vessel, the schooner Rob Roy, became perhaps the best remembered of that class to ply the trade, mostly due to Watson's event-filled 1892 memoir The Adventures Of A Blockade Runner; Or, Trade In Time Of War. A critical reexamination of that published account, Walter Wilson's William Watson and the Rob Roy: The Adventures of a Civil War Blockade Runner assigns itself the difficult task of correcting mistakes, filling in gaps and omissions, and addressing the various half-truths and embellishments that together seriously challenge the truthfulness of Watson's story. In the end, Wilson's research finds that much of Watson's memoir is backed by historical sources.
As Wilson confirms, Watson's blockade-running adventure had a rocky start. At first the Rob Roy was confiscated by Confederate authorities for government use. This caused a minor international incident due to Watson's foreign citizenship. After that matter was resolved and the Rob Roy was finally loaded with cotton bales to run the blockade, the schooner sank in its berth from gross negligence in cargo stowage. Eventually, the schooner was raised and completed its first voyage without incident. It speaks to the sheer vastness of the Gulf Coast and the difficulties involved with maintaining a tight blockade of even a limited number of ports, that a slow sailing vessel such as the Rob Roy was able to achieve a measure of success. This is especially notable given its relatively late start (near the end of 1863) in the high risk-high reward business of illicit trade, well after the U.S. Navy's blockade enforcement was in full swing. Watson increased his chances of avoiding capture by taking an indirect route to Havana, first stopping at Tampico, Mexico and then hugging the coast all the way to the Yucatan Peninsula's eastern extent before sailing directly to Cuba (the journey from the Tampico waypoint to Havana taking perhaps just over two weeks). For his second voyage to Havana, he changed the route to avoid predictability.
As Watson explains, feelings of considerable relief upon safely reaching a blockade-running harbor with a full cargo did not last long. Wilson confirms that such places were rife with unscrupulous speculators and corrupt brokers. In reading about Watson's two stopovers in Havana, one gets a sense of both the scale of profits involved as well as the complex behind-the-scenes activities attendant to finding crews, acquiring and financing return cargoes, and (related to the last point) negotiating new ownership shares. The number of shady characters swarming each arriving ship was legion, and it took considerable knowledge and interpersonal skills to determine who was worthy of trust. Politicking was also involved, with brokers, captains, and shipowners ingratiating themselves with local military commanders in ways that smoothed the permit process as well as hampered competitors or (in the case of Watson) those with whom they had business quarrels. Watson's encounters with other schooner owners, expanded upon by Wilson's research, also strongly suggests that the use of small, sail-powered vessels played a significant part in the international blockade running trade in the Gulf throughout the war.
In addition to shedding considerable light on a largely unsung and underappreciated aspect of Civil War blockade running, Watson's memoir also provides useful information about the tactics he employed to escape detection and capture. The most modern of contemporary steamships employed in blockade running relied on sleek hulls, long and low profiles, and sheer speed, but Watson developed effective strategies of his own that were tailored to both the strengths and limitations of schooners. In their case, it was best to move cautiously and methodically. Watson avoided unfurling sails during daylight hours, and moved at night as much as possible. When a blockader was sighted on the horizon during the day, it was best not to run. Instead, small boats were immediately launched to turn the schooner bow-on to the approaching steamer, making the runner's small profile difficult to discern among the waves. When approaching the destination, the shallow draft of the schooner was a strength, allowing it safe passage through channels that the much larger blockading steamships could not closely cover.
Among his wide-ranging efforts, Wilson performs yeoman work in attempting to uncover the full names of the litany of figures in Watson's account who were identified only by a single initial (ex. Mr. L). In the most difficult cases, Wilson provides readers with a number of possible candidates while offering his own opinion as to the most likely one. Wilson's research uncovers in-depth information on a great many of the historically obscure characters that figure large and small in Watson's story. The author's work also follows other individuals involved in captaining schooners, the most colorful of these being Capt. Dave McClusky. In addition to exploring the social and business networks and relationships that shaped Watson's experiences, those parts of the book collectively expand our understanding of the wider trade. One of the most important aspects of Wilson's analysis is his close reexamination of Watson's shaky, and occasionally non-existent, grasp of the where and when. Utilizing a variety of sources, Wilson imposes upon Watson's memoir an authoritative timeline of dates and events backed by solid evidence that serve to either confirm, question, or completely debunk Watson's claims. Much of the author's research in Gulf blockade runners, their cargoes, and the timing of their voyages is helpfully compiled in tabular format for current and future use.
Some of the volume's strongest historical detective work goes into investigating Watson's series of alleged voyages involving the Rob Roy, Phoenix/Pelican, and Jeanette that have no existing records or outside corroborating sources. The author calls these parts of Watson's story his "phantom voyages." As thoroughly documented and discussed among three chapters, there is no direct or even indirect evidence that Watson, as he claimed, completed a second return run into Galveston with Rob Roy, later sold his share in the schooner, and continued blockade running with steamships. By Wilson's best determination from the available sources, none of the steamship claims are supported by actual evidence. Instead of divesting himself of his ownership share in Rob Roy, the truth seems to be that Watson made a final voyage aboard it in early 1865, during which the schooner was forced onto a beach in Florida and burned to prevent its capture. After the war, Watson returned to his native land and, by all appearances, led a life of successful business pursuits.
In addition to constituting a significant addition to the Civil War blockade literature (in particular, the lesser-examined Texas, Mexico, and Cuba trading triangle in the Gulf), Walter Wilson's William Watson and the Rob Roy demonstrably affirms that Watson's celebrated yet controversial memoir does indeed possess considerable value as a historical document, if used with an abundance of caution. Indispensable to that necessity is pairing Watson's book with Wilson's impressive new critical evaluation.
Tuesday, May 12, 2026
Booknotes: Crisis At Antietam
New Arrival:
• Crisis at Antietam: The Cornfield and West Woods, September 17, 1862 by Steven Eden (Savas Beatie, 2026). Steven Eden's Crisis at Antietam: The Cornfield and West Woods, September 17, 1862 "provides a meticulous tactical analysis of the opening brutal hours of the Civil War’s bloodiest single day." As most Civil War readers already know, the sustained fighting on the northern end of the Antietam battlefield on September 17 was a horrifically bloody back and forth affair that could very easily have gone disastrously for the Confederates. That it didn't, and the Confederates narrowly but successfully held their positions at the end of the day, was the result of a combination of factors and decisions. From the description: "Eden’s in-depth study of the fighting on the Confederate left uncovers critical missed opportunities, profound command failures, and the unpredictable hand of sheer chance. The fighting that raged through the Miller Cornfield and West Woods quickly spiraled beyond command control. Officers often failed to restore order amid the maelstrom; regiments and brigades acted independently, pushing forward without orders or full awareness of the battle’s unfolding horror. Union forces drove the Confederate front to the precipice of collapse on three occasions, only for the Rebels to miraculously rally each time, stabilizing their fragile lines against overwhelming odds." Of course, much excellent work has already detailed the fighting in this sector of the battlefield as well as the battle on the whole, but there is always room for new angles. As Eden writes in his introduction, with both sides (at least in his view) poorly served by the generals at the top, his book differs most from previous accounts in its focus on "the decisions made by the colonels and captains" on the battlefield. Eden's text endeavors "to show what the men in the regiments saw, what they believed was happening, and why they acted the way they did" (pg. xi). As was the case with very recent works from other Savas Beatie authors such as Joseph Boslet and Scott Fink, Eden's investigation of Civil War combat incorporates his own personal combat experiences on the modern battlefield. Eden "draws on extensive original sources, including memoirs, official reports, and soldier letters, together with his own invaluable combat experience as a retired Army officer and former West Point military history instructor. His insights are fresh and authoritative. Crisis at Antietam challenges even seasoned readers to fundamentally reconsider the traditional narrative of that pivotal bloody September day by exposing the raw, brutal reality of command and combat at Antietam."
• Crisis at Antietam: The Cornfield and West Woods, September 17, 1862 by Steven Eden (Savas Beatie, 2026). Steven Eden's Crisis at Antietam: The Cornfield and West Woods, September 17, 1862 "provides a meticulous tactical analysis of the opening brutal hours of the Civil War’s bloodiest single day." As most Civil War readers already know, the sustained fighting on the northern end of the Antietam battlefield on September 17 was a horrifically bloody back and forth affair that could very easily have gone disastrously for the Confederates. That it didn't, and the Confederates narrowly but successfully held their positions at the end of the day, was the result of a combination of factors and decisions. From the description: "Eden’s in-depth study of the fighting on the Confederate left uncovers critical missed opportunities, profound command failures, and the unpredictable hand of sheer chance. The fighting that raged through the Miller Cornfield and West Woods quickly spiraled beyond command control. Officers often failed to restore order amid the maelstrom; regiments and brigades acted independently, pushing forward without orders or full awareness of the battle’s unfolding horror. Union forces drove the Confederate front to the precipice of collapse on three occasions, only for the Rebels to miraculously rally each time, stabilizing their fragile lines against overwhelming odds." Of course, much excellent work has already detailed the fighting in this sector of the battlefield as well as the battle on the whole, but there is always room for new angles. As Eden writes in his introduction, with both sides (at least in his view) poorly served by the generals at the top, his book differs most from previous accounts in its focus on "the decisions made by the colonels and captains" on the battlefield. Eden's text endeavors "to show what the men in the regiments saw, what they believed was happening, and why they acted the way they did" (pg. xi). As was the case with very recent works from other Savas Beatie authors such as Joseph Boslet and Scott Fink, Eden's investigation of Civil War combat incorporates his own personal combat experiences on the modern battlefield. Eden "draws on extensive original sources, including memoirs, official reports, and soldier letters, together with his own invaluable combat experience as a retired Army officer and former West Point military history instructor. His insights are fresh and authoritative. Crisis at Antietam challenges even seasoned readers to fundamentally reconsider the traditional narrative of that pivotal bloody September day by exposing the raw, brutal reality of command and combat at Antietam."
Thursday, May 7, 2026
Review - "Stonewall Jackson’s Winter Operations: The Raids Against the C&O Canal and the Bath-Romney Campaign, December 1861 to February 1862" by Timothy Snyder
[Stonewall Jackson’s Winter Operations: The Raids Against the C&O Canal and the Bath-Romney Campaign, December 1861 to February 1862 by Timothy R. Snyder (Savas Beatie, 2026). Hardcover, 6 maps, photos, illustrations, footnotes, appendix section, bibliography, index. Pages main/total:xxii,253/315. ISBN:978-1-61121-771-1. $32.95]
While he had justly earned his immortalizing nickname months earlier for his stalwart actions on Henry House Hill during the First Manassas battle, the Thomas J. Jackson of the winter of 1861-62 was not yet the "Stonewall" Jackson of legend. Though his lackluster performance during the Seven Days, a far more significant episode wedged between his Shenandoah Valley Campaign masterpiece and his daring drive into the Union rear that set up the smashing Confederate victory at Second Manassas, has inspired heaps of modern criticism, Jackson's operations along the Virginia-Maryland border from December 1861 to February 1862 clearly represent another Civil War career low point. Analysis of Jackson's flaws in personality, judgment, and command style that were exposed during that early phase of his Civil War career is central to the narrative presented in Timothy Snyder's Stonewall Jackson’s Winter Operations: The Raids Against the C&O Canal and the Bath-Romney Campaign, December 1861 to February 1862.
The reader will not progress very far into the book's introduction before realizing that the author does not rank among Jackson's modern devotees. While it is true that previous generations of writers too often downplayed the worst moments of Stonewall Jackson's Civil War career (of which this campaign was one), with some arguably blind to Jackson's faults, the more recent literature probably deserves more credit from the author for being reasonably well balanced in nature, with admirers, detractors, and those in between together presenting a suitably nuanced overall assessment of the strengths and weaknesses of Jackson's Civil War generalship.
Detailed in the book are Jackson's December raids along the Upper Potomac and his follow-on military operations against the Union-occupied towns of Bath and Romney. The goal was to inflict lasting damage to two strategically significant regional transportation networks, the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad and the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal linking Washington, D.C. and Cumberland, Maryland. In addition to supporting the movement of troops and supplies, much of the region's coal was transported along those routes for military and civilian purposes. By sweeping Union forces from those parts of Virginia that effectively shielded the railroad and canal (hopefully destroying them in the process), Jackson intended to establish long-term disruption to both routes. For Union forces, in addition to protecting those vital logistical arteries, occupation of Romney and Bath threatened Confederate-held Winchester and the rest of the Lower Shenandoah Valley, the defense of which were key parts of Jackson's Valley District command responsibilities.
The author of the 2011 study Trembling in the Balance: The Chesapeake and Ohio Canal during the Civil War, Snyder's established expertise on that subject serves him well in this volume. In addition to explaining why the C&O was such an important means of bulk transportation (especially for coal), the book details a series of Confederate winter raids—one against Dam Number 4 and three against Dam Number 5—none of which were able to inflict any lasting damage. As the author explains, the Confederate raids, which involved both infantry and cavalry forces, were ineffectual for a number of reasons. The Confederate raiders lacked blasting powder for breaching the dams and artillery fire was not used after it was determined that ammunition stockpiles were insufficient for that purpose. Instead, the dismantling process was to be achieved through hand-wielded tools, an iffy proposition under the best conditions let alone in icy winter waters against armed opposition. If that weren't bad enough, the well-positioned Union defenders across the water were both hypervigilant and highly mobile, able to quickly concentrate against as well as outrange their Confederate opponents with disruptive field artillery and rifle fire. Without the unrestricted freedom necessary to complete the laborious process of destroying the dams by hand, the Confederates were rather easily rebuffed at every turn. Description and analysis of these events, along with a properly framed appreciation of the canal's economic and military significance to the Union war effort, form one of the book's most important contributions.
Frustrated by the lack of success against the C&O but substantially reinforced by General W.W. Loring's small Army of the Northwest, Jackson was determined to clear Union forces from his district's western flank (hopefully eliminating the Union garrisons at Bath and Romney in the process) and destroy vital B&O infrastructure in the area. The problem was that achieving this would involve an arduous winter campaign in the Allegheny Mountains. As Snyder describes in the book, Jackson advanced on Bath from multiple directions, but the alert Union defenders were able to break contact and outrace his advance forces to the Potomac crossings. Finding further progress blocked at and around Hancock, Jackson bombarded the town, but the defenders there on the other side of river under fiery and aggressive Union commander Frederick Lander refused to surrender. Jackson next turned to Romney, but the defenders there retreated before his combined forces arrived, again denying the Confederates the possibility of capturing or destroying significant Union forces in the area. As was the case with the C&O, no long-term damage was inflicted upon B&O bridges and tracks during the brief Confederate occupation, and the campaign basically ended with Loring's men left behind to garrison Romney while Jackson's men returned to Winchester. The Confederates then fell into demoralizing internal squabbling that almost resulted in Jackson leaving the army altogether. In the end, Loring's isolated command was ordered to Winchester and Union forces rushed back into the ensuing void, reasserting control that would effectively last throughout the rest of the war.
At best, the benefits reaped from occupying Bath and Romney and in sweeping Union forces across the Potomac were minimal and temporary. Though it is difficult to fault Jackson too much for not being able to capture or destroy Union forces in the area given that they ran away at the Confederate approach, management of the campaign still left much to be desired. As the author explains, some of Jackson's missteps could be attributed to his high command inexperience, both in mountain operations during wintertime and in leading far more troops (approximately 8,500 officers and men, though fewer effectives) than he ever had before. Snyder also gives Jackson, who was without the services of his chief quartermaster John Harman, poor marks in logistical management of the campaign as evidenced by the extreme non-combat losses incurred during the campaign. By some estimates, these reductions in force numbered anywhere from one-quarter to one-third of the army's total strength, filling the military hospitals with sick and otherwise temporarily incapacitated soldiers. In analyzing those claims, Snyder justifiably contends that Jackson pushed too many of the men under his command beyond their physical limits, though one might also argue that other Confederate leaders during this time, notably those in charge of the concurrent Fort Donelson campaign over in Tennessee, contributed to military disaster by not being willing enough to test the limits of their men's endurance. At this stage of the war, Jackson also tended to overestimate the offensive capabilities of militia forces under his command. In relation to his militia and regular officers alike, he then compounded the situation by equating a lack of success (regardless of the cause or causes) with willful failure to perform their military duties. He also demanded blind obedience to the letter of his orders, rarely condoning independent initiative in reaction to changing circumstances. What couldn't be chalked up to inexperience were Jackson's extreme level of operational planning secrecy and his willingness to bypass the chain of command, both of which frustrated and infuriated principal subordinates such as Loring. These would be common complaints from those who served under Jackson (even the general's own staff members) throughout his remaining Civil War career.
Arguably Jackson's biggest mistake after securing Romney was in widely dividing his forces while in such close proximity to the enemy, who could easily rush in forces by rail to position superior forces against Confederate communications. By leaving Loring's command isolated in Romney and marching the rest to Winchester, Jackson was seemingly repeating Confederate president Jefferson Davis's disastrous national cordon defense strategy at the district level. Though the administration held on to that strategy for too long, leading to major military disasters in the West, the danger was immediately recognized on the Virginia frontier, with Jackson being directed through War Secretary Benjamin to withdraw Loring. Jackson considered (very wrongly, in Snyder's view) those orders to be improper "interference" in his own sphere of responsibility, that clash with his superiors prompting the general to submit his resignation. Snyder provides a detailed account of General Lander's ensuing offensive operation, one that would take advantage of the enemy dispersal and attempt to trap the Romney garrison. The fortunes of war would intervene, however, as Loring was already on the move. That and another of Lander's bouts with chronic illness (on top of the festering leg wound that would eventually kill him with sepsis) together allowed Loring to escape unmolested. Nevertheless, Union forces could take pride in how they performed during the winter operations covered in the book. Success or lack of success in any military campaign results from a combination of controllable and uncontrollable factors. One might argue that Snyder's narrative, by focusing so closely on the former, primarily in the context of Jackson's alleged failures and missteps, deflects reader attention from a full appreciation of the remarkably well-managed Union response to the Confederate canal raids and the Bath-Romney Campaign that followed them.
Inadequate map coverage was a clear drawback of the winter campaign's only other book-length account, Thomas Rankin's Stonewall Jackson's Romney Campaign, January 1-February 20, 1862 (1994). There is improvement on that score with Snyder's commissioned set, with its finely detailed maps of the Upper Potomac region and mountainous area of operations west of the Shenandoah, but, save for the skirmishing at Bath and the Confederate pursuit toward Hancock, troop movements associated with the canal raids and Bath-Romney campaign are not superimposed on any of the pictured road networks. It is also the case that map coverage ends completely just beyond the volume's midpoint, before the Confederate expedition to Romney begins.
Overall, this volume is a very fine raid and campaign history that measures up strongly as the most comprehensive account of Jackson's winter operations of 1861-62. At the same time, while the author provides a noteworthy service in shining a spotlight on the earliest manifestations of the generalship flaws that would most significantly color the remainder of Jackson's Civil War career, there does come a point when the volume and tone of the criticisms pass the threshold into becoming immoderate. In interpreting matters great and small in relation to Jackson's personality, command style, and decision-making during this period of the war, Jackson's behavior and actions are at nearly every turn presented in the least favorable light. But, as they say, opinions vary, and other readers and reviewers might see it differently. It is really only near the end of the book, with the final chapter having the tonally fitting title of "Stonewall Jackson Rebuked," that the author references the likelihood of positive benefits from Jackson's highly demanding leadership and command style. Most notable is the possibility, as suggested by veteran accounts, that Jackson's insistence that subordinates strictly follow his orders to the letter (regardless of intervening circumstances) and his pushing his men to the limits of endurance had the combined effect of steeling discipline in both the officer and enlisted ranks in ways that strongly prepared those volunteers, many of whom were still relatively green citizen-soldiers, for the rigors of hard marching and hard fighting necessary to achieving victory in the upcoming Valley Campaign and beyond. In the end, though, regardless of one's feelings about where the author's analysis of Jackson himself registers on the balance meter, it is undeniable that the book is a major contribution to the history of early-war military operations along the hotly contested Virginia-Maryland border.
Tuesday, May 5, 2026
Booknotes: Reasons We Fight
New Arrival:
• Reasons We Fight: Tejanos and American Wars, 1836-1972 by Alex Mendoza (OU Press, 2026). Starting with the Texas Revolution and ending with the exit of U.S. forces from Vietnam, Alex Mendoza's Reasons We Fight: Tejanos and American Wars, 1836-1972 examines what motivated Texans of Mexican descent to fight for the United States. In the process, Mendoza "discovers a complex landscape of shifting loyalties, motivations, and notions of nationalism reflecting Tejanos' conflicted relationship with America as it changed over time." From the description: During much of the long period covered in the book, Tejano military service "often had less to do with nationalism or patriotism than with individual decisions. A soldier might be motivated by local allegiances, ethnic pride, a desire to defend his home, escape poverty, or seek adventure in a foreign war." However, "(b)y World War II, these notions had become stronger, and the Tejano community responded to the attack on Pearl Harbor with the patriotic fervor of their Anglo-American neighbors." More from the description: As referenced above, the twentieth century marked a significant transformation in Tejano patriotism and nationalism. Mendoza's study "traces a growing sense of nationalism through the mid-twentieth century, as Tejanos sought to refute their second-class status as "inferior" individuals—and to demonstrate their warrior tradition, thus confirming their rights to citizenship through battle. In essence, by the Second World War, Tejanos who joined the ranks of the military adopted the characteristics of American nationalism—sentiments that would only expand during the Cold War era conflicts in Korea and Vietnam." Since this is an ACW site, it behooves us to look at how much Civil War-era content and analysis is present. The war with Mexico and the Civil War are covered in Chapter 2, while the following chapter pairs Reconstruction with the Spanish-American War. According to the summary in the introduction, Tejano participation in the Mexican War was minimal, with "less than two dozen Spanish-surnamed volunteers" among Texas forces. Tejano allegiances were split during the American Civil War, with around 2,500 joining the Confederate Army and 958 donning Union blue. During Reconstruction, Tejanos "served as a paramilitary force" until the U.S. Army fully took over frontier and border security (pp. 4-5). In sum: "The first comprehensive record of Tejanos in war, Mendoza's account documents the forces and circumstances that shaped military attitudes among Mexican Texans, along with the challenges they faced navigating a complex of shifting ideas about identity, community, and nationalism—and America itself."
• Reasons We Fight: Tejanos and American Wars, 1836-1972 by Alex Mendoza (OU Press, 2026). Starting with the Texas Revolution and ending with the exit of U.S. forces from Vietnam, Alex Mendoza's Reasons We Fight: Tejanos and American Wars, 1836-1972 examines what motivated Texans of Mexican descent to fight for the United States. In the process, Mendoza "discovers a complex landscape of shifting loyalties, motivations, and notions of nationalism reflecting Tejanos' conflicted relationship with America as it changed over time." From the description: During much of the long period covered in the book, Tejano military service "often had less to do with nationalism or patriotism than with individual decisions. A soldier might be motivated by local allegiances, ethnic pride, a desire to defend his home, escape poverty, or seek adventure in a foreign war." However, "(b)y World War II, these notions had become stronger, and the Tejano community responded to the attack on Pearl Harbor with the patriotic fervor of their Anglo-American neighbors." More from the description: As referenced above, the twentieth century marked a significant transformation in Tejano patriotism and nationalism. Mendoza's study "traces a growing sense of nationalism through the mid-twentieth century, as Tejanos sought to refute their second-class status as "inferior" individuals—and to demonstrate their warrior tradition, thus confirming their rights to citizenship through battle. In essence, by the Second World War, Tejanos who joined the ranks of the military adopted the characteristics of American nationalism—sentiments that would only expand during the Cold War era conflicts in Korea and Vietnam." Since this is an ACW site, it behooves us to look at how much Civil War-era content and analysis is present. The war with Mexico and the Civil War are covered in Chapter 2, while the following chapter pairs Reconstruction with the Spanish-American War. According to the summary in the introduction, Tejano participation in the Mexican War was minimal, with "less than two dozen Spanish-surnamed volunteers" among Texas forces. Tejano allegiances were split during the American Civil War, with around 2,500 joining the Confederate Army and 958 donning Union blue. During Reconstruction, Tejanos "served as a paramilitary force" until the U.S. Army fully took over frontier and border security (pp. 4-5). In sum: "The first comprehensive record of Tejanos in war, Mendoza's account documents the forces and circumstances that shaped military attitudes among Mexican Texans, along with the challenges they faced navigating a complex of shifting ideas about identity, community, and nationalism—and America itself."



