Review - "Tar Heel Civil War Flags: The Collection of the North Carolina Museum of History" by Tom Belton

[Tar Heel Civil War Flags: The Collection of the North Carolina Museum of History by Tom Belton (McFarland, 2026). Softcover, photos, illustrations, footnotes, appendix, bibliography, index. Pages main/total:xv,397/431. ISBN:978-1-4766-9649-2. $49.95]

More than a quarter-century ago now, back in 1999, the North Carolina Museum of History ran a public exhibition titled North Carolina and the Civil War, which featured more than 350 items from the museum's collection, including some of its Civil War-period flag holdings. Due to the delicate nature of so many of the flags curated by the museum, most of which remain in storage today due to a hefty conservation backlog, exhibition visitors were only able to view a fraction of the total. However, interested persons can now inspect the entire collection secondhand through a newly published reference guide. In his book Tar Heel Civil War Flags: The Collection of the North Carolina Museum of History, author Tom Belton, a retired military history curator with over three decades of work at the museum, brings to light for the first time each of the 112 mostly Confederate flags in the collection.

The volume is organized into large sections designated by flag type, which include state, company, First National, Second National, regimental battle flags, U.S. flags, and post-Civil War flags and banners. Introductory discussion of each type, much of that information familiar to seasoned Civil War readers, is duly provided. Examples of United States flags are prewar stars and stripes, wartime garrison flags (such as the one captured at Plymouth in 1864), and those flown by North Carolina Unionists. The collection's postwar flags and banners are those created for the state's United Confederate Veterans and United Daughters of the Confederacy camps, chapters, and divisions. Battle flags and unit company flags are by far the most numerous flag categories held by the museum.

Each flag feature begins with some brief background information about the unit or organization the flag is connected with (and, where appropriate, brief notes on battlefield use). Description of each flag's current appearance (which ranges from tattered, barely recognizable remains that even experts struggle to recognize to items that are remarkably well preserved) as well as its pattern, bunting issue, and material composition is provided. Quoted passages from official reports, regimental histories, newspaper articles, and other sources offer additional information in regard to flag description and where or when it was captured (or surrendered during the Appomattox Campaign). When known, the origins and maker of the flag (with documentation) is provided as are transcriptions of speeches from flag presentation ceremonies. In some cases, flag identification itself is murky, and the author weighs the strengths and weaknesses of differing claims. For the battle flags, information about the color bearers known to have carried the flag is included. Chain of custody is another major part of the discussion, so the text, as mentioned above, includes an account of the flag's capture or surrender (if available) while also tracing postwar provenance. All of the above is annotated through footnotes.

Each flag's current state of preservation is noted as are conservation cost estimates for those that remain stored away. According to Belton, the average conservation cost estimate is around $10,000, but many billing ranges are much, much higher. For example, the company flag of the Perquimans Rangers (its regimental attachment still unknown) is given as nearly $35,000, making it the collection's most expensive proposed conservation project. Unconserved flags cannot be displayed, and it appears that much of that process is dependent upon outside fundraising campaigns, so information about how to donate is provided.

The volume is profusely illustrated. Featured are color photographs showing both sides of the flag and banner items under consideration. These are supported by numerous other images, including B&W photos of relevant documentation (such as original flag purchase invoices) and extensively captioned portraits of individuals with some degree of connection—either close, tangential, or (as in the case of a rare bible bookmark flag) purely conjectural in nature—to the item or flag. Photographs from flag presentation ceremonies of various types are also commonly featured illustrations.

In its thorough documentation of North Carolina Civil War flags, which are critical items of material culture related to the conflict, Tom Belton's Tar Heel Civil War Flags is a profoundly useful source and reference guide for casual readers, professional historians, and museum specialists alike.

Review - "Honey Springs, Oklahoma: Historical Archaeology of a Civil War Battlefield" William Lees

[Honey Springs, Oklahoma: Historical Archaeology of a Civil War Battlefield by William B. Lees (Texas A&M University Press, 2025) Hardcover, maps, photos, illustrations, tables, notes, bibliography, index. Pages main/total:xx,269/327. ISBN:978-1-64843-293-4. $50]

On July 17, 1863, two armies (large ones by frontier Trans-Mississippi theater standards) clashed north of Honey Springs in Indian Territory. The Union army led by aggressive Frontier District commander James Blunt trounced a Confederate force assembled by General Douglas Cooper to oppose the federal advance down the Texas Road, a key military artery in the region. A clear Union tactical victory, the battle was also a major strategic defeat for the Confederate forces, one that further splintered tribal alliances already shaken by prior events and military disasters such as the October 22, 1862 Battle of Old Fort Wayne. Even though many modern historians recognize Honey Springs as being the most consequential Civil War battle fought in Indian Territory, the clash still lacks a book-length treatment. Why that significance, combined with the battle's exceptional stature as a triracial Civil War engagement with allied Indians forming the majority of combatants on both sides, has not garnered more published scholarly attention beyond articles and book chapters remains curious. Thankfully, archaeologist William Lees has stepped in to address that longstanding gap. While not a conventional narrative history, his newly published Honey Springs, Oklahoma: Historical Archaeology of a Civil War Battlefield represents the battle's first major standalone study of any kind.

In Honey Springs, Oklahoma, Lees employs the three-headed interpretive approach that a number of his colleagues have used to noteworthy effect in fostering fresh understanding of both obscure and well-known Civil War military events. Thus, in addition to piecing together a picture of the Honey Springs battle through traditional documentary resources (including "memory" writings such as contemporary letters, journals, official reports, etc.), this study incorporates conflict archaeology methodologies pioneered decades ago by Douglas Scott and others along with extensive terrain analysis supported by widely accepted analytical frameworks such the KOCOA system developed by the U.S. military as a way to "help military strategists evaluate landscape for tactical or defensive advantage and risk" (pg. 5).

Setting the stage, memory sources and official documents were used by Lees to construct a chapter-length narrative overview of the Honey Springs battle along with meticulously crafted orders of battle. In addition to compiling numbers and losses data, that lengthy discussion of army structure and makeup secures a great many details that are central to getting the most out of the archaeological part of the investigation. Identifying and matching uniform, equipment, and weaponry information to specific units allowed the author to use artifact evidence mapping of such items as a reliable means of tracing likely unit positions and locations of concentrated fighting on the battlefield.

Though the author readily acknowledges that the sheer amount and degree of artifact information presented in the book might be tedious to the general reader, his extensive examination of fired and unfired/dropped ammunition (and his documentation of their locations through precise GIS mapping) is for others a fascinating exercise in locating and following opposing battle lines through artifact analysis. The amount of artillery ammunition (in particular case and canister shot) found during Lees's many archaeological surveys of the battlefield matches the use of that arm as revealed in the written documentation. Generally speaking, the great preponderance of spherical ball ammunition of all kinds might seem unusual for a mid-war battle, but many units that served along the trans-Mississippi frontier (especially the Confederate regiments and the Indian units of both sides) had to make due with second and even third-rate arms. Also speaking to theater shortages of military-grade armaments (particularly on the Confederate side) is the large number of civilian-caliber shoulder arm ammunition found on the Honey Springs battlefield.

Diversity of arms and ammunition findings was in many ways expected, but one class of artifact was exceptionally striking. Civil War Indian units were routinely issued available firearms just like their white and black compatriots, but it is nevertheless intriguing that arrowheads made out of reshaped metal were also uncovered during the field surveys. Some maintain that the arrowheads are not battle related, but Lees persuasively determines that contextual correlation with other battlefield artifact evidence points strongly toward a linkage. As Lees explains, the arrow tips also provide further evidence that tribal allies did not entirely discard older martial traditions upon enrollment in regularly organized Union and Confederate units (though it is possible that inadequate arms and ammunition drove some amount of bow and arrow use as well).

In addition to employing GIS mapping to reveal battle lines, likely positions of particular units along those lines, and areas of the heaviest combat, the archaeological investigations of Lees and his colleagues were able to clearly delineate the boundaries of the fighting and separate the battle into three distinct phases labeled by the author as the "Prairie," "Elk Creek," and "Pumpkin Ridge" engagements. Interestingly, Lees's team also found archaeological evidence of another engagement (north of the Prairie clash) not specifically referenced in memory sources. Light in nature, this is thought to have been outpost skirmishing that preceded the main battle.

The U.S. military's battlespace and KOCOA [an acronym representing "Key Terrain, Observation and Fields of Fire, Concealment and Cover, Obstacles, and Avenues of Approach"] concepts of terrain analysis are applied in detailed fashion by the author to all three aforementioned sectors of the battlefield. That process ends up deeply informing our assessments of tactical decision-making during the Honey Springs battle along with the many ways in which topography and other terrain considerations affected battlefield deployments and, ultimately, the nature and foci of the fighting.

The results of Lees's memory, archaeology, and terrain analysis investigations suggest that Cooper's curved battle line established just north of Elm Creek, variously estimated as being between 1 and 1.5 miles in length, was the best position available to receive Blunt's attack. With broad open space in front, a favorable position for both placement of his army's lone battery and utilization of the treeline for cover, Cooper faced off against Blunt's advancing army and its twelve guns (artifact GIS mapping also hints very strongly at a treeline location much closer to Elk Creek than previously realized). Surprisingly, archaeology reveals that fighting on the Prairie battlefield existed on a very narrow front, perhaps only one-third of mile in width (at the center and right of the Confederate defensive line, straddling the Texas Road). With memory sources suggesting engagement on a much wider front, this was a surprising finding. Though the Elk Creek valley has been heavily visited by relic hunters, remaining archaeological evidence strongly indicates a precise location for the Elm Creek bridge. Those artifacts and the reality of overwhelming Union artillery superiority strongly point toward an Elk Creek engagement of only brief duration after the sudden Confederate collapse and withdrawal from the prairie engagement just to the north. Terrain analysis revealing the extent of higher ground north of the creek also supports Cooper's decision to not initially deploy his forces along the waterway's south bank. Finally, the archaeology associated with the Pumpkin Ridge engagement confirms the existence of a determined Confederate stand (most likely from Colonel Tandy Walker's well-regarded First Choctaw and Chickasaw regiment, previously in reserve) that arguably prevented Cooper's general withdrawal from becoming a rout.

While the GIS mapping of the artifact evidence is prodigious, the only Honey Springs battle map included in the book is a reproduction of Wiley Britton's crude schematic drawing first published in 1899. Unfortunately, the volume misses the opportunity to apply the cutting-edge findings of its investigative triad of memory, archaeology, and terrain analysis toward another useful end, that of producing state of the art tactical maps of the Prairie, Elk Creek, and Pumpkin Ridge engagements.

Clearly, multiple factors played a part in Cooper's defeat. Never highly regarded for his generalship, Cooper apparently did not order his forces to prepare temporary breastworks or other improvements to his defensive position, nor did he designate a fallback position to his subordinates. The lack of archaeological evidence of significant fighting on the Confederate left supports Creek Confederate officer George Washington Grayson's critical contention that Cooper did not manage to get all, or even most, of his available forces up to the fighting front before Blunt struck Cooper's center and right with local numerical superiority, breaking the Confederate line. It seems clear that firepower disparities out of Cooper's control, notably the 12:4 superiority in Union artillery pieces, also played a major role in the Confederate defeat. In addition to the fact that Cherokee Confederate Colonel Stand Watie's absence from his unit while on detached service during the battle created a leadership vacuum that was inadequately filled, Lees points out that tribal tactics rarely involved standing up against artillery, and that martial tradition also might have had a significant impact on large parts of Cooper's command being absent from the fighting front. Lees does address Cooper's post-battle (and perhaps self-serving) complaint that defective gunpowder was the primary cause of his defeat. It is a difficult matter to assess in terms of reality versus perception, but the author brings up a good point that the effective stand at Pumpkin Ridge demonstrated that at least some of the units in the Confederate army had decent quality powder supplies available.

Filled with noteworthy insights and persuasive interpretation, William Lees's Honey Springs, Oklahoma is highly recommended for its fresh and fulsome contributions to our modern understanding of an understudied trans-Mississippi battle with a highly consequential shadow. Significantly, Lees's impressive work further buttresses growing recognition that conflict archaeology possesses a unique and highly valuable utility in the multi-disciplinary investigation of Civil War campfires and battlefields. Highly recommended.

Review - "Holding Charleston by the Bridle: Castle Pinckney and the Civil War" by Roberts & Locke

[Holding Charleston by the Bridle: Castle Pinckney and the Civil War by W. Clifford Roberts, Jr. & Matthew A.M. Locke (Savas Beatie, 2024). Hardcover, maps, photos, illustrations, footnotes, appendix section, bibliography, index. Pages main/total:xxviii,206/287. ISBN:978-1-61121-714-8. $32.95]

It certainly wasn't for want of trying, but every Union effort to carry Charleston harbor by direct land and naval assault and finally seize the Cradle of Secession failed. Instead, Charleston's fate would ultimately be determined by outside forces. In February 1865, the city and its surrounding forts, outflanked and isolated by General William T. Sherman's inexorable inland advance up through the Carolinas, were evacuated by their defenders.

So how did Charleston hold out for so long when so many other Confederate fortresses and cities were unable to cope with the Union's vast superiority in combined operations technology and strength? One major factor was the harbor's extensive defense in depth, which consisted of mutually supporting forts and batteries, torpedoes, and fixed obstructions, all backed by a small but powerful ironclad flotilla. That combination proved so effective that even the perimeter, which consisted principally of forts Sumter, Moultrie, and Johnson, successfully resisted both heavy enemy land forces and the Union Navy's greatest concentration of ironclad warships. That maintenance of the harbor's outermost cordon of defense meant that interior posts were left relatively untested throughout the conflict and their own stories largely neglected in the military history literature. As just one example, the wartime history of Castle Pinckney, a Second System fort situated on Shute's Folly Island that oversaw both the mouth of the Cooper River and the city of Charleston's commercial waterfront, has been completely overshadowed by those of the outer forts (Sumter in particular). Ably bringing that topic to the forefront is W. Clifford Roberts, Jr. and Matthew A.M. Locke's Holding Charleston by the Bridle: Castle Pinckney and the Civil War.

Roberts and Locke's study touches upon the entire length of Castle Pinckney's existence, even addressing its Colonial-era antecedents. During the Early Republic period, much of the nation's military spending went into coastal defense, and the need for more modern fortifications on Shute's Island was well recognized by local, state, and national planners. That recognition resulted in Castle Pinckney being built over the remains of the old Fort Pinckney. With its guns capable of hitting Charleston itself, the Second System fort figured prominently during the Nullification Crisis, and the harbor post also served as a holding facility for Second Seminole War prisoners (which would not be the last time the fort doubled as a prison). Throughout the book the authors do a fine job of selecting which aspects of the fort's long history to emphasize, and both of those events are discussed. However, as time went on the Shute's Folly fort's utility as a first-line military position was overtaken by the nation's new Third System of coastal defense, which addressed major advances in engineering and technology (in particular, more powerful and longer range artillery).

Appropriately, perhaps half the book covers the Civil War-era, with Pinckney gaining early distinction as the first fort in the harbor seized by hastily organized southern militia. Throughout its history, Pinckney's security and relative isolation made it useful as a multi-purpose facility, and during the Civil War it also housed prisoners (the first batch being those captured at Manassas in 1861). In addition to detailing that part of its story, Roberts and Locke also recount at length the continual defensive improvements made to the fort, which included massive sand revetment, armament upgrades, wall reinforcement to hold up the increased weight, and new enclosed field works to address the vulnerability of the fort's open rear. Their text also offers numerous insights into the personalities and daily lives of the fort's rotating series of defending units and leaders. While increasingly massive Union rifled siege artillery gradually pounded Sumter into rubble from 1863 onward, the more distant Pinckney did not escape occasional shelling. Nevertheless, that threat was never far from the minds of its defenders and much of the text serves as a highly informative case study of the many ways in which the Confederates responded to the enemy's steadily growing edge in heavy artillery capabilities with effective military engineering countermeasures of their own.

The volume is filled with historical maps, engineering drawings, and both period and modern photographs. Those complementing the narrative's exploration of Pinckney's Civil War history are especially helpful in making more intelligible the many physical alterations made to the fort as the war progressed. Enhancing the reference value of the book is its extensive appendix section, which is filled with a series of prisoner list and defending unit rosters along with a bevy of additional historical documents.

After the Civil War, federal Reconstruction governments used Castle Pinckney as a place to confine prisoners convicted by martial law's military commissions. These were their own soldiers as well as southern civilians held there for various crimes. Existing island infrastructure as well as enough area for new construction also made Pinckney suitable as a lighthouse system supply depot, and that peacetime role is also detailed in the text.

For the next hundred years, as recounted in the book, governmental entities at all levels (local, state, and federal) struggled to determine how or if to preserve Castle Pinckney. During that time responsibility for the fort passed through a series of historical associations and government departments, with some of the latter doubting its historical value as being worthy of expensive, long-term restoration and maintenance. Aptly describing Castle Pinckney as a "hot potato" alternately maintained and neglected by various responsible parties, the authors, also citing the fort's archaeological treasures unearthed during recent excavations, make a strong case for Pinckney being still worthy of both study and preservation. Regular harbor channel work, which has resulted in Shute Island's near complete erosion into the sea, continues to threaten the fort's delicate existence, but the Castle Pinckney Historical Preservation Society remains determined to both save it and keep its historical memory alive for future generations. This fine book can certainly aid in that worthy mission.

Review - "The USS Tecumseh in Mobile Bay: The Sinking of a Civil War Ironclad" by David Smithweck

[The USS Tecumseh in Mobile Bay: The Sinking of a Civil War Ironclad by David Smithweck (Arcadia Publishing and The History Press, 2021). Softcover, maps, photos, illustrations, line drawings, appendix section, notes, bibliography, index. Pp 158. ISBN:978-1-4671-4974-7. $21.99]

On August 5, 1864 a US Navy squadron commanded by Admiral David G. Farragut comprised of single and double-turret monitors and wooden warships steamed in parallel columns past the forts guarding the entrance to Mobile Bay and engaged a much weaker defending Confederate squadron. The ensuing action resulted in a complete Union victory, highlighted by the capture of the bay's most powerful Confederate ship, the ironclad CSS Tennessee, and the surrender of the forts. Tragically, however, the first of Farragut's ships to enter the bay, the USS Tecumseh, struck a torpedo and sank so rapidly that 93 crew members could not escape. Presumably, many of those unfortunate souls remain entombed within the sunken wreck to this day.

In order to frame reader expectations regarding David Smithweck's The USS Tecumseh in Mobile Bay: The Sinking of a Civil War Ironclad, it needs to be mentioned up front that the volume is very different from the popular-style narrative histories typically released through this publisher. Though there is bridging text and patches of interpretive narrative sprinkled about, the vast majority of the volume's content is comprised of useful reference material in the form of reports, source excerpts, photos, illustrations, drawings, survey notes, and biographies.

The design, construction, deployment, and wartime history of the vessel are very briefly summarized in a pair of chapters only a few pages each in length. Discussed in them are several new design features aimed at addressing flaws made apparent during the original Monitor's active service. The background overview sections, like the rest of the book, are thickly populated with block quotes from firsthand accounts and contain all manner of visual aids of the variety referenced earlier.

Contents are loosely organized as a collection of largely independent chapters related to the ship and the Battle of Mobile Bay. One addresses the topic of torpedoes, noting how singularly unlucky the Tecumseh was given the age of the torpedoes deployed in the bay (these were emplaced as much as two years earlier) and considering how so many others, presumably waterlogged or with corroded mechanisms, failed to detonate during the battle. Another chapter looks at the bay forts (Morgan, Powell, and Gaines), mostly highlighting their weaponry. Perhaps that material was included to provide context for outlier reports that the ironclad was sunk by cannon fire. Eyewitness accounts of the sinking from a variety of shipboard and onshore observers are collected in another section, and some officer profiles and newspaper reports are compiled inside another pair of chapters.

Many readers are probably unaware that Civil War Centennial plans existed to raise the ironclad and display it in all its restored glory at a new Smithsonian-operated Bicentennial Park in Washington, DC. Unfortunately, those highly ambitious plans fell through due to lack of legislative interest and funding. However, before that, the Smithsonian commissioned an extensive survey of the wreck site, and the book includes a fascinating selection of dive notes. The transcribed notes offer a multitude of insights into the process of conducting mid-twentieth century underwater archaeology and ship/artifact preservation. As another good example of archaeology working hand in hand with eyewitness and documentary accounts, the divers found and mapped the battle damage to the hull (which faced upward and at an angle, as the ship rolled over as it sank), and they confirmed that the fatal blow was due to a torpedo. Evidence discovered around the ironclad was highly suggestive of the killing blow having been dealt by a frame torpedo. In another example of archaeological investigation complementing eyewitness history, the position of the rudder confirmed that the ship had veered away from its planned course and into the marked minefield just before it was fatally struck. The notes also insightfully highlight many of the more general challenges to underwater archaeology, namely weather, tides, visibility, and funding.

Before the survey was completed and the hull resealed (but unfortunately not reburied), a number of artifacts were recovered, and these are also pictured and labeled in the book. The results of later surveys, mostly conducted on a monitoring basis, are also summarized. Sadly, evidence of looting attempts (by cutting through the hull) were discovered during surveys performed subsequent to the Smithsonian "Tecumseh Project" of July 1967, and the uncovered hull has suffered some deterioration. Happily, the latest NPS survey from 2019 showed no recent damage.

While a full history of the Tecumseh and its crew prior to its sinking remains to be written, Smithweck's book nevertheless houses an important and often engrossing collection of reference material for students of Civil War naval engagements, ironclad warship technology, and underwater conflict archaeology to consult and appreciate.

Review - "Rediscovering Fort Sanders: The American Civil War and Its Impact on Knoxville's Cultural Landscape" by Faulkner & Faulkner

[Rediscovering Fort Sanders: The American Civil War and Its Impact on Knoxville's Cultural Landscape by Terry Faulkner and Charles H. Faulkner (University of Tennessee Press, 2020). Hardcover, maps, photos, illustrations, source notes, cited reference list, index. Pages main/total:xxiii,343/414. ISBN:978-1-62190-481-6. $34.95]

While the Chattanooga railroad junction was more militarily and strategically significant during the Civil War years, Knoxville was then and arguably still is the queen city of East Tennessee. It was certainly coveted by both sides during the war. The Lincoln administration wanted possession of Knoxville to secure protection for the region's large pro-Union population, and the Confederates needed it to maintain the shortest rail and communications link between the eastern and western theaters. As it turned out, the Confederates held Knoxville for the first half of the war before abandoning it to General Ambrose Burnside's advancing Union army in September 1863. For the duration of the conflict, the city would remain in federal hands.

Though made vulnerable by an uncomfortably close patch of dead ground that a sizable attacking force could exploit, Fort Sanders was the key point in the line of Union fortifications surrounding Knoxville. It was the predictable target of General James Longstreet's Confederate forces during their failed attempt to break into the city in November 1863. Even with its flaws Fort Sanders was immensely strong, and Longstreet's 20-minute assault on its northwest salient on November 29 was a dismal failure. With Union relief on the way and no further hope of quick victory, the Confederate 'siege' was abandoned a few days later. Longstreet's small army withdrew northeast, ultimately going into winter quarters after the indecisive battle at Bean's Station.

For a long time, it has been assumed by historians and local residents that the steady march of Knoxville's post-Civil War urbanization completely wiped out all traces of Fort Sanders. However, according to Terry and Charles Faulkner in their book Rediscovering Fort Sanders: The American Civil War and Its Impact on Knoxville's Cultural Landscape, that is not the case. Through their meticulous interdisciplinary investigation lasting more than eight years, the authors claim a number of new discoveries, including both visible and buried evidence of fort remnants.

The Civil War importance of Knoxville and why so much time and effort went into building elaborate earthwork defenses are explored at some length in the opening chapters. Coverage includes fairly extensive discussions of what life was like for the city's Unionist population under Confederate rule, and the September-December 1863 campaigning in the region (the climax being the attack on Fort Sanders) is also addressed. There are a few factual mistakes scattered about the narrative and arguably some overuse of dated and partisan sources in these early sections, but the contextual overview is solid overall. Some readers will be disappointed in the brevity of the book's coverage of the November 29 assault on Fort Sanders, but others will find it to be of suitable length for a multi-focused work of this type. The best modern treatment of the battle of Fort Sanders and overview of Longstreet's Knoxville campaign can still be found in Earl Hess's The Knoxville Campaign: Burnside and Longstreet in East Tennessee (2012).

Union military engineer par excellence Orlando Poe is often credited with the design and construction of Fort Sanders, but the authors correctly note that the defensive works on White's Hill that would eventually become Fort Sanders originated as the Confederate Fort Loudon/Fort Buckner. After Burnside captured the city, Poe was made responsible for the city's entire line of defenses. Though improvements were made under Poe's overall direction, the fort was still unfinished when the Confederates attacked in November. Only later would the fort be fully enclosed and completed, and this final phase of its construction was conducted under the professional guidance of experienced artillery officer, Davis Tillson. A figure whose contributions during and after the war (he was also an Asst. Director of the Freedman's Bureau) have been largely forgotten, General Tillson had a distinguished career, the popular awareness and profile of which the authors hope to raise through this study.

Easily the book's most provocative conclusion is its determination through various investigative means that the true location of Fort Sanders is one block west of the long-held consensus position atop the former topographical crest of White's Hill. Through a combination of documentary research, photographic analysis, ground observation (most significantly the location the authors believe to be the oft-mentioned limestone sink), and targeted archaeological investigation, the detailed revisionist argument promoted by the Faulkners is presented through multiple angles. The authors feel that some of their strongest supportive evidence was obtained through their extensive aerial and ground-level photographic study. During their research, the authors obtained access to several photographs that have never been published before. They also bolster their case with a rediscovered fort image mislabeled in the archives as a visiting circus rather than the Fort Sanders veteran reunion truly depicted. While the often grainy reproduction of the book's collection of panoramic photos (from George Barnard's 1864 image through a 1922 aerial photo of the battleground) can often make it difficult for the reader to discern all of the essential features noted in the text, the authors do extensively label every image to correspond by letter to points of interest identified and discussed in both captions and main text.

Like many other historically significant Civil War sites, postwar urban sprawl claimed the former site of Fort Sanders. The book methodically documents in photos and text the steady, decades-long urban development—first as residential houses and streets and later hospital and University of Tennessee construction—completely remade the local topography (which was originally steeply graded and hazardous to road travel). The transformation of the urban landscape atop the grounds of the old fort is ongoing, though the university today is committed to upward expansion of existing buildings. Coverage of urban development around the old fort grounds is rendered in such detail that even non-Civil War oriented local historians and students of West Knoxville's nineteenth and twentieth century expansion will likely find the book highly useful for their own purposes. Still, it can be difficult for the uninitiated reader to fully appreciate the nuances of the Faulkners's arguments as presented in the book, and there is apparently local resistance to their theory regarding the fort's true location. One is left to wonder what the strongest arguments for the traditional interpretation of the fort's position might still be and how the Faulkners would specifically counter them.

Conflict archaeology has repeatedly proven itself useful as part of a multi-disciplinary approach to Civil War history and site study, and Rediscovering Fort Sanders thoroughly documents co-author and University of Tennessee anthropology professor emeritus Charles Faulkner's archaeological investigation of the old fort site. Through his team's modest-scale excavation and soil strata analysis, Faulkner believes he's uncovered enough probable buried fort remnants (to include the level of the fort's interior floor and possible location of artillery embrasures), to merit further investigation. In that determination he is persuasive. Along with the sinkhole already mentioned above, Faulkner also points to another area of above-ground subsidence that could well be indicative of the original trench fronting the fort. Both features are promoted as supporting evidence of the fort's new location. As a body, the archaeological evidence in more intriguing than conclusive, and one might well imagine that detractors will not be completely satisfied until further excavation conclusively identifies the locations of at least three of the four bastions (if that is even possible).

Rediscovering Fort Sanders is a frequently fascinating combination of historical document research, forensic photographic analysis, and archaeological investigation. If their work can gain official acceptance, the Faulkners plan to create an extensive walking tour that will hopefully secure Fort Sanders's legacy on a more visible and permanent basis and provide West Knoxville with long-neglected historical interpretation that will benefit both residents and visitors alike. Even if that highly laudable goal is never met, the book itself represents a significant contribution to local Knoxville history and the study of the Civil War in East Tennessee at large.

Review - "War Matters: Material Culture in the Civil War Era" by Joan Cashin, ed.

[War Matters: Material Culture in the Civil War Era edited by Joan E. Cashin (University of North Carolina Press, 2018). Softcover, photos, illustrations, notes index. Pages main/total:244/280. ISBN:978-1-4696-4320-5. $29.95]

Within Civil War scholarship, material culture studies continue to be an undervalued academic sub-discipline, a state of affairs that the new essay anthology War Matters: Material Culture in the Civil War Era seeks to address and change. Volume editor Joan Cashin's introductory essay recognizes that there is no universally agreed upon current definition of "material culture" from those that use it most (i.e. anthropologists, archaeologists, folklorists, and the like). The term originated in the anthropology of the early twentieth century and generally refers to "the study of physical objects as evidence of cultural values." Some also believe that particularly valued objects need to be also understood as themselves affecting human behaviors and attitudes. The fairly inclusive definition quoted above serves well enough as the foundation of the broad range of ideas aired in War Matters. While professional Civil War historians as a whole have not fully embraced material culture studies as a significant tool for use in their own work, the following essays represent at least some evidence of growing acceptance and appreciation.

Jason Phillips begins the proceedings by looking at the historical and physical origins of John Brown's famous pikes and their cultural meaning and evolution. After his victory over proslavery militants at Black Jack in Kansas, Brown proudly displayed to supporters and financial backers a captured dagger as emblematic of his cause and evidence of his triumph. Symbolically turning the weapon against its previous owner and the "Slave Power" he represented, Brown commissioned 1,000 pikes with the bladed tips precisely modeled after that of the Black Jack dagger. While the pikes never drew blood in the hands of fellow abolitionist fighters or rebellious slaves, they became meaningful objects on both sides of the cultural divide, with abolitionists keeping them as treasured relics and proslavery activists displaying them as powerful material proof of the North's support for the violent overthrow of slavery and the presumed race war that would ensue. The chapter provides a good example of how the physical nature and symbolic meaning of material objects can evolve in both intended and unintended ways.

Both sides during the Civil War earnestly attempted to appropriate the legacy of the American Revolution in support of their respective causes, and Joan Cashin's chapter discusses the relics from that treasured period of history that were physically threatened by the fighting. Union soldiers wanted to see, touch, and often take sacred objects; Southern Unionists sought to display them as proof of their loyalty; and pro-Confederate citizens tried to protect and preserve them from outright theft and destruction. In citing these examples, Cashin forcefully demonstrates how much Civil War era Americans wanted to possess physical reminders of past glories while also using them as tools of political and cultural expression in their own lives.

By interpreting the entire Antietam National Battlefield as a historical artifact, Lisa Brady and Timothy Silver take perhaps the book's most expansive approach to defining material culture.  Conducting material culture studies through the lens of environmental history, Brady and Silver look beyond relatively small, inanimate objects to large, culturally significant landscapes and their living ecosystems. Their long-term method of examining the complex interplay between the human and natural origins and histories of particular landscapes provides another way of looking at Civil War battlefields.

Everyone has read Civil War anecdotes about printed material in breast pockets stopping bullets and saving lives, but Ronald and Mary Zboray's article offers the first comprehensive examination of the practice, which originated in Cromwellian England. Documenting 108 cases in both Civil War armies, they thoughtfully explore the individual, religious (most were bibles), and cultural significance of using books as personal shields. The printed objects came to be proactively viewed by many as talismans that could ward off harm on the battlefield, and in the case of bibles took on additional elements of divine grace and intervention.

Military material culture studies (particularly those associated with modern conflict archaeology) have made impressive strides in recent decades, but Earl Hess points out that the examination of Civil War weapons as culturally-significant objects has lagged behind. Adopting an international cross-cultural approach, Hess's chapter interprets weapons—in the context of both user and target—from the individual perspective (ex. noting the tendency of many soldiers to see their weapons not as mass-produced things but personally meaningful objects) as well as through societal lenses such as American gun culture and the pervasive 'new is better' attitude toward technology.

Robert Hicks moves the discussion from man-made objects to man-modified natural materials, in this case smallpox vaccine matter extracted from individuals by Confederate Army doctors and prepared for general use in inoculating civilian and military populations. There is a particular focus on failed inoculations and how they prompted a scientific reevaluation of each stage of the vaccination process. This led to improved methods and the compilation of a large body of data and observations useful for future research.

Within black refugee camps managed by white northern relief workers, ex-slaves lived in either tents or existing built structures, and these intimate material spaces are the subject of Sara Jones Weicksel's chapter. In it Weicksel sees refugee dwellings and the artifacts that adorned and furnished them as representations of freedpeople's personal visions of freedom.

Unlike women of the wealthier classes who could afford to leave the home to participate in fundraisers, attend political rallies, and nurse the wounded, Alabama's common folk women found ways to support the Confederate cause and supplement their more meager incomes through home industry, both through hand-made goods and food production. However, Victoria Ott's chapter also shows how hardships and scarcities in those very same material items fueled opposition, often class-based in nature, as the war dragged on.

The final two essays explore the popular passion for relics of the war. Peter Carmichael discusses relic hunting in the context of the conflict's final weeks, when veterans of both armies sought to substantiate their service through keepsakes, while Yael Sternhell recounts Jefferson Davis's twenty-year quest to reclaim his lost or confiscated material belongings. Ironically, those objects held by the federal government were the easiest to get back while those taken by ex-associates the most frustratingly elusive. Davis's loss of control over his own material legacy serves as a notable reminder of how the private artifacts of historically significant figures eventually become public property.

All of the contributors to War Matters successfully argue for the appropriateness and validity of incorporating into the historical scholarship the study of material items of cultural significance. Certainly the book should be read by all Civil War professional historians and graduate students, but many of the essays also exhibit popular appeal sufficient to gain the volume a wider reading audience. Highly recommended.

Review - "Palmito Ranch: From Civil War Battlefield to National Historic Landmark" by Ginn & McWhorter

[Palmito Ranch: From Civil War Battlefield to National Historic Landmark by Jody Edward Ginn and William Alexander McWhorter (Texas A&M University Press, 2018). Flexbound softcover, 6 maps, photos, illustrations, notes, bibliography, index. Pages main/total:xvi,91/132. ISBN:978-1-62349-636-4. $26]

In the realm of Texas Civil War battles, the two late-war engagements fought at Palmito Ranch pale in size and significance to earlier Confederate victories at Galveston and Sabine Pass. Nevertheless, the May 12-13, 1865 fight at Palmito Ranch does hold the distinction of being the Civil War's final battle, one that was also ironically a Confederate victory. As its title suggests, Jody Edward Ginn and William Alexander McWhorter's Palmito Ranch: From Civil War Battlefield to National Historic Landmark tells the story of the battles as well as the modern effort to preserve and interpret the battlefield for posterity. Small in size but wide in scope, Palmito Ranch is a three-part study that encompasses the history of the battles fought there, the results of a series of archaeological surveys performed on the site, and the long collaborative process that led to the establishment of the National Historic Landmark.

In summarizing the two battles fought at Palmito Ranch in September 1864 and May 1865, the authors survey the worthiness of existing works and are not afraid to criticize their shortcomings where needed. Their determination that Jeffrey Hunt's The Last Battle of the Civil War: Palmetto Ranch (2000) is the best book-length study of the 1865 battle published thus far is in line with current opinion. Citing the many different names attached to the site located roughly halfway between Brownsville and Brazos Santiago, the authors offer a convincing argument that any combination of Palmito/Palmetto Ranch/Hill can be reasonably justified from the historical record. Though their arguments are mostly contained in the notes, Ginn and McWhorter also dismiss other "last battle" claimants.

Some interesting insights into the lesser-known first battle at Palmito Ranch are offered. The authors are certainly correct that the First Battle of Palmito Ranch, which was really a week-long series of skirmishes (roughly over the period September 5-12, 1864) that also involved French Imperial forces in indirect support of John S. "Rip" Ford's Confederates on one side and Mexican Cortinista infantry and artillery directly allied with Union forces on the other, needs more research. Details of the 1864 fighting remain nebulous, but Ford subordinate Lt. Col. Daniel Showalter's smaller Confederate command reportedly held back the combined enemy over several days before withdrawing, returning later to join forces with Lt. Col. George Giddings (who did not mention Showalter in his own reports and accounts) to finally restore Confederate control over lost ground. Contrary to some other interpretations of the fighting, it does seem clear that Juan Cortina's forces did indeed physically cross the river to fight (that Mexican prisoners were taken in the field in Texas was acknowledged by both sides), and did not simply shell the Confederates from the Mexican side of the Rio Grande.

Throughout, the authors frequently cite the Ford Papers, which apparently were not available to Hunt at the time of his own Palmito Ranch research, as an important "new" resource for scholars of the border fighting that included these battles. According to Ginn and McWhorter, the muster rolls contained in the papers conclusively demonstrate that Ford's command was a polyglot group of draft-age veterans (not a hasty assemblage of youths and old men as some have argued). Additionally, these personnel documents do not support the common contention that Ford's men deserted in large numbers upon hearing of the Appomattox surrender. The papers and other sources also buttress Ford's published casualty figures for both Palmito Ranch engagements, numbers that many subsequent writers considered underreported.

The only real source of complaint in all this is the absence of original battle maps in an otherwise beautifully presented and richly illustrated volume. There is no map at all for the 1864 fighting, and the blandness of the book's borrowed cartography for the 1865 battle stands in stark contrast with the overall attractiveness of the volume's presentation.

The book's discussion of the three archaeological surveys performed between 2001 and 2010 reaffirms the worth of that methodology, both in confirming/questioning documentary history and in supporting preservation. It also shows that in archaeology what you don't find is just as important as what you do. Interestingly, while the digging on Palmetto Hill did not discover evidence of that strategic high ground being the location of major fighting, it did have a positive effect on marshaling support for landmark preservation. The absence of artifacts there supports contemporary reports that indicate a military presence on the hill for observation purposes but not significant fighting, with the position considered "indefensible" with the resources at hand. This section of the book amply reinforces the now widely accepted viewpoint that battlefield archaeology is at its best when employing a multi-disciplinary team of professionals in direct collaboration with outside stakeholders and participants possessing valuable local knowledge.

The last part of the volume traces the development of Palmito Ranch Battlefield National Historic Landmark. Along the way, it appropriately credits teamwork between federal agencies, the state historical commission, the Civil War Trust, and other dedicated individuals and organizations with preserving both the battlefield and the natural landscape in and around it. As part of the process, events like Park Day raised public awareness of Palmito Ranch while drawing in new supporters. With the site's relative isolation and funding not available for permanent staffing, the study also notes some of the innovative battlefield interpretive measures employed, in particular the radio broadcast repeater system installed in 2011 (which offers 24/7 visitor access to interpretive information recordings on the airwaves over a ten-mile radius around the landmark).

This volume is a wonderful new tool for raising public awareness and appreciation of the Palmito Ranch landmark and the history behind it. In addition to constructing a narrative appealing to new readers, authors Ginn and McWhorter offer fresh insights and information that those familiar with the existing literature should well appreciate. The book also represents another example of the indispensable importance in historical preservation of public and private resources and teamwork. Finally, the volume very effectively advances the notion that Palmito Ranch is deserving of a higher legacy than simply being the answer to a common Civil War trivia question. As a part of this, its narrative of events dovetails usefully with elements of the growing and influential North American borderlands scholarship. Highly recommended.

Ragan: "CONFEDERATE SABOTEURS: Building the Hunley and Other Secret Weapons of the Civil War"

[Confederate Saboteurs: Building the Hunley and Other Secret Weapons of the Civil War by Mark K. Ragan (Texas A&M University Press, 2015). Hardcover, photos, maps, drawings, notes, bibliography, index. Pages main/total:197/257. ISBN:978-1-62349-278-6 $35]

Close study of the Civil War will uncover many examples of Confederate attempts to use technological innovation to counteract gross disparities in manpower and resources. Many of these advances were developed and implemented by a small group of men led by Texan Edgar Collins Singer. The subject of Mark Ragan's Confederate Saboteurs: Building the Hunley and Other Secret Weapons of the Civil War, the Singer Secret Service Corps was founded in early 1863 at Port Lavaca, Texas and was composed of a diversely skilled team of inventors and investors (perhaps 25-30 in number) drawn from Edgar Singer's Masonic lodge.

Singer, on detached duty from a Texas artillery battery, developed a spring loaded detonator for mines ("torpedoes") intended for both land and nautical uses. His demonstration to Confederate authorities successful, Singer and his group were contracted to produce torpedoes full-time, their Secret Service activities operating under the official military umbrella of the Engineer Department to prevent execution if any of the corps members were captured while deploying the devices. From isolated Port Lavaca, Singer Corps agents were distributed all the across the Confederacy, to New Orleans, Richmond, Charleston, Mobile, Selma, and other threatened places in need of their services.

Ragan notes many isolated successes in sinking Union vessels, including ironclads, but it should also be appreciated that the mere presence, and even rumor, of Singer torpedoes tended to keep enemy ships at a respectful distance from southern rivers, bays, and harbors that would otherwise have been indefensible. The biggest problem with the underwater mines lay with their relatively brief lifespan (one that was improved later in the war). It is likely that Admiral Farragut knew this and was confident that most of the mines were rendered harmless by extended immersion in the salt waters of Mobile Bay prior to his famous naval attack. While the ironclad Tecumseh was sunk immediately the rest of the Union fleet reported brushing against numerous mechanically inert contact mines. This would make Farragut's immortal order "Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead!" more calculated risk than popularly believed.

Over a few weeks time in late 1863, Singer agents in Tennessee derailed eight Union supply trains with ingeniously designed land torpedoes. In most cases, repair crews were able to fix the damage in less than a day. In response, Union track patrols were quickly stepped up and the danger was largely eliminated. However, while railroad torpedoes at the limited scale used were regarded as little more than a nuisance by Union authorities, one wonders what the effect on the federal logistical system might have been had the Confederates devoted more resources to the project and operated over a much wider area. In addition to mining, other agents were involved in boat and bridge burning operations, the former of which became a serious disruption to transport assets along the Mississippi.

The Singer group not only designed and constructed static and floating mines of different varieties but also submarines and torpedo boats. Some of the technology was truly futuristic. Ragan uncovered evidence that self-propelled torpedoes (powered by some time of rocket) able to be launched underwater from tubes were under development. They even tried using an electric motor purchased in the North to propel a torpedo boat but found that these expensive engines generated insufficient power.

Of course, the most famous Singer Group project involved the submarine CSS Hunley and Ragan documents its design, construction, trials and ultimate demise. With the Hunley sinking the Housatonic and other successes by Singer torpedoes, the Confederate Secret Service attempted to ramp up operations in 1864 but suffered a crushing blow when one of its operatives carelessly allowed documents naming fifty agents and their locations to be captured. Copied and distributed to Union forces, knowledge of Confederate personnel and plans led to key arrests and severely disrupted Secret Service operations.

With many records burned (for obvious reasons) in the waning moments of the war, surviving Confederate Secret Service documentation is especially fragmentary, making it difficult for researchers to reconstruct timelines, connect the dots regarding operations, and discover information about personnel and projects. In the book, Ragan does an exceedingly fine job of taking what's known, including many recently uncovered sources by Ragan himself and others, and painting a more than reasonably coherent picture of the activities of the Singer group.

During the final weeks of the war, the group was putting the finishing touches on a massive steam powered ironclad torpedo boat at Buffalo Bayou near Houston. Unfortunately, the fate of the vessel (and that of a smaller new submarine that may or may not have actually existed) is tantalizingly unknown. Nine Union naval vessels (including five ironclads) were confirmed sunk by Singer torpedoes and there's little doubt that a number of unconfirmed kills exists among the dozens of other ships cited in federal records as being destroyed or damaged by underwater mines. The Singer group's critical role in defending ports and waterways gave the corps an impact and significance far beyond their meager numbers. Ragan is likely not exaggerating when he rates the achievements of the Singer Secret Service Corps equal to that of any ten Confederate infantry regiments. A skillfully crafted  in-depth study of a very difficult subject to research, Confederate Saboteurs is an important new addition to the naval and covert operations histories of the Civil War.



More CWBA reviews of TAMU Press titles:
* The Maltby Brothers' Civil War
* Misadventures of a Civil War Submarine: Iron, Guns, and Pearls
* Turmoil on the Rio Grande: The Territorial History of the Mesilla Valley, 1846-1865
* Tejanos in Gray: Civil War Letters of Captains Joseph Rafael de la Garza and Manuel Yturri
* Why Texans Fought in the Civil War
* Moss Bluff Rebel: A Texas Pioneer in the Civil War
* Frontier Defense in the Civil War: Texas' Rangers and Rebels
* Confederate Struggle For Command: General James Longstreet and the First Corps in the West
* Planting The Union Flag In Texas: The Campaigns of Major General Nathaniel P. Banks in the West
* The Yankee Invasion of Texas
* Blood & Treasure: Confederate Empire in the Southwest

Geier, Scott & Babits, eds.: "FROM THESE HONORED DEAD: Historical Archaeology of the American Civil War"

[From These Honored Dead: Historical Archaeology of the American Civil War edited by Clarence R. Geier, Douglas D. Scott & Lawrence E. Babits (University Press of Florida, 2014). Hardcover, maps, photos, drawings, tables, appendix, reference list, index. Pp. 332. ISBN:978-0-8130-4944-1 $39.95]

Civil War battlefield archaeology can tell us a great deal. On the fields of battle, it can be used to determine where specific units fought, their positions, movements, tactics, and weapons used. The discipline has also contributed greatly to our knowledge of how fortifications of all types were designed, constructed, and used. The same is true for Civil War camps and bivouacs. The interpretation of the wealth of material culture objects found at these sites has significantly enhanced what we currently know about how soldiers lived and fought, and how the armies of which they were a part were supplied and maintained. Chapters covering all of these investigative themes and more are contained in From These Honored Dead: Historical Archaeology of the American Civil War, the latest collection of essays published by University of Florida Press. The content ranges widely in scope, from regional literature summaries all the way down to detailed technical analysis of findings at specific sites.

Beginning with a recap of recent archaeological investigations of Civil War era battlefields and conflict sites within Missouri, Arkansas, Oklahoma, Kansas, Nebraska, Colorado, and New Mexico, the initial chapters have a strong Trans-Mississippi flavor. The three following essays take a closer look at the battles of Boonville, Palmito Ranch, and Centralia. Like the other sections in the book covering specific engagements, these chapters all provide historical context, raise specific questions that archaeological inquiry hopes to help answer, and briefly discuss findings and methodology. Most of the chapters are not too technical, easily followed by readers with little or no background in the discipline. The Boonville piece, a summary of a larger published report, demonstrates how important archaeology can be in discovering the locations of lines of battle, the sequence of fighting and where the most intense combat occurred, and the weaponry used. The team arrives at a controversial position questioning the long accepted wisdom that pro-Confederate units fought largely with civilian firearms in the early period of the war. The work at the 1864 battle site near Centralia offers insight into the anatomy of a perfectly constructed ambush of regular forces by experienced guerrillas, where once again artifact discovery and interpretation using metal detecting methods pioneered during the famous Little Big Horn survey from the 1980s were used to reconstruct events.  To the east, an exploration of two Shenandoah Valley battlefields demonstrates the value of archaeology as an important tool in reconciling conflicting eyewitness accounts of events or even guiding research in a direction not previously mentioned in any documented source.  Many authors in this compilation offer persuasive arguments for using U.S. Army field manual tools (ex. METT-T and KOCOA) for identifying key terrain, the attendant focus on which increases the likelihood of useful artifact discovery within the time and funding constraints inherent to most endeavors.

Another major section of the book concerns itself with the multi-disciplinary approach to the archaeological and historical interpretation of military bivouacs and camps, noting the differences in site layout, material culture, environmental impact, and level of local disruption involved when troops were present in an area briefly versus long term. One chapter involves the successful location of Wesley Merritt's Cedar Creek cavalry camp, its artifact collection offering insights into the material culture of Union cavalrymen and their horses, as well as tracing the actual plan of the camp with a view toward comparing regulations with actual practice. A more permanent and great deal larger Army of Northern Virginia encampment is the subject of another article, the emphasis being on the impact of the camp on civilian (free and enslaved) life, livelihood and property. The final essay in this section is a case study of a Civil War bivouac (in this case, one made by the 14th Connecticut during the Mine Run Campaign), its abundant artifact yield vastly different in nature from those discovered at long term camp sites. These findings allow useful comparisons to be made between material cultures of soldiers in camp and on campaign.  They also provide a model to be applied to future site studies where the history of events is less well known.

Another trio of chapters (on Camp Nelson's Fort Putnam, Confederate Battery 1 at Quantico, Virginia and a CSA battery position along the Apalachicola River in NW Florida) focuses on earthwork defenses, clearly demonstrating the usefulness of archaeological methods in mapping the precise location and extent of fortifications, as well as in offering important clues in how they were constructed. The final essay follows the "myth busting" impacts of two studies (at Resaca, Georgia and Blountsville, Tennessee), their archaeological findings contrasting sharply with local historical lore. While the piece demonstrates well the challenges of pitting new discoveries against entrenched individual and institutional beliefs, it ends with a wise note of caution to investigating teams of the need to be wary of creating their own myths from limited physical evidence.

An important theme throughout the book is the critical importance of metal detecting equipment and expertise to modern military archaeology. Frowned upon by previous generations, it is now regarded as an essential part of any project. Professional archaeologists have also come to value the collaboration of avocational metal detectionists, many of whom possess extensive site knowledge and technical expertise. After finding high artifact yields in ground widely thought to have been completely picked over by relic hunters, many contributors to the volume also caution colleagues against buying into the widespread belief of "hunted-out" sites.

This book and others like it together comprise a deeply persuasive argument for increased partnership in Civil War studies between archaeologists and practitioners of traditional documentary history.  With archaeological work absent from most Civil War bibliographies, such inter-disciplinary collaboration continues to be undervalued. There exists a long list of good reasons, many of which can be found in the pages of this book, why this should change.


More CWBA reviews of UPF titles:
* James Buchanan and the Coming of the Civil War
* A Civil War Gunboat in Pacific Waters: Life on Board USS Saginaw
* Thunder on the River: The Civil War in Northeast Florida
* The Southern Mind Under Union Rule: The Diary of James Rumley, Beaufort, North Carolina, 1862-1865
* A Brief Guide to Florida's Monuments and Memorials
* Huts and History: The Historical Archaeology of Military Encampment During the American Civil War
* Archaeological Perspectives on the American Civil War

Delgado: "MISADVENTURES OF A CIVIL WAR SUBMARINE: Iron, Guns, and Pearls"

[ Misadventures of a Civil War Submarine: Iron, Guns, and Pearls by James P. Delgado (Texas A&M University Press, 2012). Cloth, illustrations, notes, appendices, bibliography, index. Pages main/total:206/298. ISBN:978-1-60344-472-9 $34.95 ]

The CSS Hunley grabs the headlines, but there was much more to Civil War era military submarine technology in America than the cigar shaped Confederate submersible warship. Students of the naval war will likely have heard of the USS Alligator or even the Intelligent Whale, but Julius H. Kroehl's Sub Marine Explorer is equally deserving of attention, both for its advanced technology (that actually worked!) and its place in the evolution of the modern submarine. In 2001, vacationing marine archaeologist James P. Delgado came upon the rusted hulk of the vessel while strolling along a beach in Panama. His investigation into the peculiar craft's origins and history resulted in Misadventures of a Civil War Submarine: Iron, Guns, and Pearls.

Delgado begins his book with a nice primer on the state of 19th century underwater technology, from the development of diving suits to diving bells. From there, the reader is introduced to Julius Kroehl. An immigrant from Prussia, the marine engineer and entrepreneur came to public attention with his winning of a hotly contested contract to clear troublesome New York harbor obstructions like Diamond Reef. When this task proved vastly more difficult than anticipated, Kroehl adapted an existing diving bell design for the purpose of drilling and blasting the reef. Although he had his critics, Kroehl had enough of a reputation as a marine demolition expert that his services were in demand by the US Navy when Civil War erupted.

As a civilian contractor, the Prussian-American was first asked to develop a plan for destroying the hulk and chain obstruction on the lower Mississippi River that barred progress upriver to New Orleans. He also served with the James River Squadron and along the Cape Fear River. After a serious bout of tropical fever, Kroehl was released from the navy. His new design, a submarine-diving bell hybrid called the Sub Marine Explorer, was original designed to harvest pearls for the Pacific Pearl Company at depths inaccessible to divers, but Kroehl also saw its military potential and offered the sub to the Navy in 1864. Although inspected by the Navy in 1865 [the full report is reproduced as an appendix] and recommended for sea trials, the submarine never saw service during the war.

How the Explorer found itself beached and rusting in a Panamanian cove is not entirely known, but Delgado reasonably suggests that it was mothballed there and ultimately abandoned, with the pearl business no longer a going concern and the expense of returning the vessel to the U.S. prohibitive. The business acumen of the officers of the Pacific Pearl Company is also questioned by the author, as they did not seem to have investigating just how badly overfished the oyster beds were at the time.  On top of this, a design feature turned out to be a major flaw in its usefulness for the purpose at hand. The depth at which existing oysters could be harvested was not a safe one for the crew and led to decompression sickness [for workers to exit the vessel underwater, compressed air was used to equalize pressure inside the vessel to that of the surrounding depths].

The final part of the book documents in photos and text the archaeological investigation of the wreck. One of the appendices also provides an extraordinarily detailed set of construction plans. The originals no longer exist, but the drawings in the book attempt to reconstruct them using the best available evidence.

Misadventures of a Civil War Submarine is truly an original work.  Not only does it resurrect the Civil War career of an important maritime innovator and inventor, it makes the case for the unjustly forgotten Explorer (a true submarine with a lock out diving chamber) being an important evolutionary step in the development of submersible vessels for civilian and military use.  Delgado's study is highly recommended for Civil War scholars and enthusiasts, as well as more general nautical history and technology students.


More CWBA reviews of TAMU Press titles:
* Turmoil on the Rio Grande: The Territorial History of the Mesilla Valley, 1846-1865
* Tejanos in Gray: Civil War Letters of Captains Joseph Rafael de la Garza and Manuel Yturri
* Why Texans Fought in the Civil War
* Moss Bluff Rebel: A Texas Pioneer in the Civil War
* Frontier Defense in the Civil War: Texas' Rangers and Rebels
* Confederate Struggle For Command: General James Longstreet and the First Corps in the West
* Planting The Union Flag In Texas: The Campaigns of Major General Nathaniel P. Banks in the West
* The Yankee Invasion of Texas
* Blood & Treasure: Confederate Empire in the Southwest

Van Tilburg: "A CIVIL WAR GUNBOAT IN PACIFIC WATERS: Life on Board USS Saginaw"

[A Civil War Gunboat in Pacific Waters: Life on Board USS Saginaw by Hans Konrad Van Tilburg (University Press of Florida, 2010). Hardcover, illustrations, notes, bibliography, index. Pages main/total:338/380. ISBN:978-0813035161  $69.95 ]

In the Civil War naval literature, the role of the United States Navy's Pacific Squadron always gets short shrift. No full length monograph exists, and an otherwise excellent recent study of Union naval leadership leaves out the Pacific altogether! From this, one might get the impression its ships and men did nothing important, but that would be far from the truth. Often by simply "showing the flag", the Pacific Squadron protected American citizens and interests all across that vast ocean during the Civil War years. Its vessels were also tasked with keeping an eye on the French in Mexico, as well as the political instability of Central and South America, the former especially important in the transshipment of gold. Ships also ranged up and down the U.S. coastline investigating suspected pro-Confederate political plots and attempts to outfit privateers. Far flung merchant and whaling fleets also needed protection from Confederate commerce raiders. An important element in all this was the relatively new USS Saginaw, and its fourteen year career is recounted in A Civil War Gunboat in Pacific Waters by Hans Konrad Van Tilburg.

Constructed at Mare Island in San Francisco Bay, the U.S.'s first Pacific naval yard, and commissioned in 1856, the lightly armed Saginaw immediately joined the small group of U.S. ships stationed in Chinese and Japanese waters. There, it helped bolster American political, trade, and missionary interests, providing protection for citizens of the U.S. and other western countries threatened by China's civil conflicts and Japan's intense antipathy toward foreigners.

The Saginaw was still on station in the Far East when the American Civil War broke out, but it would be 1863 before the vessel could limp back to Mare Island for extensive upgrades and repairs. At Mare Island, it was put on alert to repel an attack on the facility by a group of Confederate sympathizers, a situation that turned out to be a non-event. The ship also traveled north to Washington Territory after it was reported that a privateer was being outfitted in Puget Sound. Similar rumors abounded for the rest of the war, but the Saginaw never did encounter a privateer face to face. However, it did transport some of the captured Confederate agents who had attempted to seize the armed steamers Salvador and Guatemala. Another wartime mission undertaken by the Saginaw was oversight of the salvage of the SS Golden Gate, which wrecked off Manzanillo, Mexico, spilling into the surf $1.4 million in gold. Other Mexican adventures included contending with incompetent consular officials and a French blockade of Mexico's Pacific ports.

Like on board was rough, with tropical disease rampant during duty in the lower climes, with "seasoning" killing or disabling many men.  Discipline was also a significant problem, with drunkenness (even with the abolition of the daily grog ration) and desertion constant companions, although the author seems to suggest that poor leadership was a contributing factor.  Van Tilburg does hint at the international and interracial flavor of the American navy's manpower, but it is somewhat unfortunate that he did not go into detail about the Saginaw's crew composition. In terms of political allegiances, the author does mention that, during on board voting for the 1864 presidential election, ten white members voted for McClellan and twenty black crewmen voted for Lincoln.

Although the book's title suggests a Civil War concentration, much more than half the text covers the Saginaw's brief post-war career, which included visits to Hawaii and an extensive exploration of Alaska. However, the events surrounding the ship's 1870 sinking at remote Kure Atoll (near Midway) is the primary focus. At the time, Midway's location was viewed with favor as a major coaling station. It is unsurprising that so much of the book is devoted to the end of the Saginaw's career, the marooning of its crew, and the dramatic rescue voyage, as Van Tilburg headed the team that discovered and documented the wreck. Its archaeological features are discussed in the book's final chapter.

While one might wish for more detail and focus on the Civil War career of the Saginaw and its crew [and the inclusion of the type of multi-view schematic ship drawing of the type common to studies of this type would have been nice], A Civil War Gunboat in Pacific Waters nevertheless provides an excellent overview of a largely, and undeservedly, forgotten aspect of the Union navy's wartime operations. Its comprehensive summary of the variety of duties fulfilled by squadron vessels like the Saginaw is a fine contribution to our understanding of the Civil War in the Pacific theater. Hopefully, this book will inspire other scholars to study this vast area of largely untrodden ground. For those whose interests lie elsewhere, Van Tilburg's study is also a valuable historical and archaeological account of one vessel's involvement in the infant stages of the projection of U.S. power in the Pacific.

Orr, Reeves & Geier (eds): "HUTS AND HISTORY: The Historical Archaeology of Military Encampment During the American Civil War"

[Huts and History: The Historical Archaeology of Military Encampment During the American Civil War ed. by David G. Orr, Matthew B. Reeves, and Clarence R. Geier^* (Univ. Press of Florida, 2006). Hardcover, maps, drawings, tables, source notes. Pp. total/main: 288/267 ISBN: 978-0813029412 $65]

Civil War camps can take many forms, from a simple fire pit for an overnight stay to elaborately constructed cabins for the winter months. A collection of scholarly essays, Huts and History is a masterful introduction to both practical and technical issues of modern archaeology as applied to Civil War encampments.

The art of laying out a military encampment (castrametation) following the regulations of the period is discussed in detail and compared with the survey evidence. The study also provides a frank and balanced discussion of the strained relationship between professional archaeologists and relic hunters. As with a previous UPF publication [see note * below], the authors find value in cooperation and here admit that amateurs are actually more successful in finding camp sites than are trained archaeologists. While some chapters go into some depth describing survey and material culture examination and survey methodologies, the degree of specialist technical detail is not overwhelming to the patient general reader. Their findings reveal a great deal about soldier society -- its tools, technology, rituals, diet, and social systems.

Specific sites covered include the 14th New Jersey camp at Monocacy, Confederate cantonments supporting the 1861-62 Potomac blockade, Camp Nelson (KY), Confederate winter camps at Orange (VA), urban Confederate camps at Yorktown, and Grant's cabin complex at City Point. Huts and History employs an immensely satisfying array of illustrations as well. Photographs, drawings, sketches, tables, site maps, artifact distribution plots, and archival maps are placed throughout the text. My only quibble is with the lack of regional balance. No sites from the Trans-Mississippi were included for chapter length study, and Camp Nelson in Kentucky was the lone western theater representative.

Huts and History is yet another insightful and abundantly visual archaeological compilation from the University Press of Florida. Its articles comprise a rich blend of scholarly interpretation and practical advice. While there is much within for the general reader to ponder, certainly any professional or amateur interested in Civil War archaeology will greatly benefit from reading this volume. Highly recommended.

* - This is the second archaeological study involving the work of Dr. Geier reviewed here. Follow the link below for my comments on the excellent Archaeological Perspectives on the American Civil War, also published by UP of Florida.

Geier and Potter (eds): "Archaeological Perspectives on the American Civil War"

[Archaeological Perspectives on the American Civil War edited by Clarence R. Geier and Stephen R. Potter (University Press of Florida, 2003). Softcover, maps, drawings, photos, notes, glossary, bibliography, index. Pages: 448. ISBN 13: 978-0-8130-2651-0 $27.95]

A fascinating 1980s National Geographic article on the projectile mapping of the Little Bighorn battlefield was my introduction to modern battlefield archaeology. The technology and methodology introduced was truly novel and supplied a professional model for others to follow. Much of this legacy is wonderfully displayed in Archaeological Perspectives on the American Civil War.

Considering the mainstream popularity of both the ACW and archaeology, it is a bit surprising to see so few books utilize the intersection at depth [Earl Hess's scholarly field fortification studies published by UNC Press immediately comes to mind]. This volume, edited by anthropologist Clarence Geier and archaeologist Stephen Potter, makes a very strong case for promoting the role of inter-disciplinary archaeological study in the examination of Civil War history. Archaeological Perspectives contains a great number of articles that should enlighten interested readers as to method & technique, and how they can be used to draw conclusions about not only battles and battlefields, but also everyday life in camps, hospitals, farms, towns, and forts -- the material culture and lifestyle of both soldiers and civilians.

At the heart of this collection of essays is the view of the Civil War battlefield as a "cultural landscape" that cannot be fully understood without input from a variety of academic disciplines. Historians, archaeologists, and anthropologists take the lead in this cooperative effort. While the focus is on the work of professionals in these fields, it is refreshing to see an acknowledgment of the pioneering work done by amateurs in the use of metal detection technology.

The book's eighteen chapters [see this link for a complete table of contents] are too densely detailed and variable in content to independently cover in a review of this length, but some general comments are in order. The volume is divided into three main parts [I - Tactics and the Conduct of Battle, II - The Home Front and Military Life, III - New Methods and Techniques]. Articles in Part I discuss the use of archaeological data in determining battle lines and tactical movements [at Brawner's Farm and Cool Spring]. Other chapters deal with archaeological issues surrounding the submarine C.S.S. Hunley, field fortifications at Atlanta, and the interdisciplinary approach used to identify individual remains on the battlefield. In Part II, readers learn about artifact analysis and its role in the study of the material culture of military camps, along with farms, towns, and other aspects of domestic life affected by the conflict. Part III details the field's use of modern technology and methodology. Survey techniques (including metal detecting) are discussed, as well as projectile analysis and artifact distribution mapping and analysis. Rarely does an edited compilation cover so much ground, and in such depth of detail and analysis. Additionally, the reader is struck throughout by the practical (and broad) usefulness of the research data obtained by these studies. Rather than providing incremental advancements to narrow specialties, the knowledge gained from these studies overlaps expansively into other fields.

In addition to the quality of the text, Archaeological Perspectives is wonderful to look at. It is profusely illustrated with photographs, drawings, battle maps, tables, artifact maps, and distribution plots. These figures and illustrations are intimately tied to the text, an essential aid to reader understanding.

I wouldn't hesitate to recommend this fascinating survey of Civil War archaeology to a broad range of readers. It's detailed enough for a specialist to appreciate, yet will not overwhelm the interested generalist with technical minutiae. Highly recommended.

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See also, a companion volume Huts and History: The Historical Archaeology of Military Encampment During the American Civil War (Univ Press of Florida, 2006).