Lincoln’s Darkest Year: The War in 1862
By William Marvel
(January 2009 Civil War News)

Illustrated, maps, 443 pp., 2008. Houghton Mifflin Company, 222 Berkley St., Boston, MA, 02116, $30 plus shipping.

Reviewer: James A. Percoco
James A. Percoco teaches U.S. and Applied History at West Springfield High School in Springfield, Va. He is author of A Passion for the Past: Creative Teaching of U.S. History and Divided We Stand: Teaching About Conflict in U.S. History. Percoco is a USA TODAY All-USA teacher and is an adjunct professor in the School of Education at American University where he serves as History Educator-in-Residence.

Review:
“The war promised only debt, death, disease, and misery,” So writes William Marvel, author of the provocative Lincoln’s Darkest Year: The War in 1862.

Thus at its core Marvel’s work registers as an ultimate anti-war book, using the Civil War as a backdrop. On these pages readers will find the usual cast of characters associated with the Civil War, but with great skill Marvel paints the Lincoln Administration in a much darker light and secures a reputation of being an intelligent writer coming from a different place.

Do not dismiss Marvel as a crank. Lincoln’s Darkest Year is well-crafted and the author demonstrates his keen eye as a researcher, having combed through many unused sources from across the North to portray the presidency, the military and life in the North as anything but in distress on all levels.

Whether Marvel takes readers to the battlefield, the halls of the White House and the War Department, or Northern homes one feels a darkness generally not detected in other laudable books about the Civil War.

A permanent fixture of the book is the unceasing din of the “blame game.” Lincoln generally is aloof from this chicanery, but others, like Henry Halleck and Edwin Stanton, among other policy makers, and his battlefield commanders, are not.

Seeming above the fray of blame Lincoln appears to drift not quite disinterested, but rather a bit out of touch. Lincoln remains human in the author’s eyes but, without directly saying so, flawed, as are the others in all levels of government.

A singular empathy to be found concerns soldiers in the field and loved ones at home. The voices of soldiers’ contempt for the cause and the foibles of those who lead them are heard throughout the text — these are not sunshine soldiers.

From homes as far flung as from New Hampshire to Iowa loved ones write their men in blue admonishing the war effort and encouraging them to either come home or to not reenlist.

Marvel moves easily between homes, Washington, D.C., and the battlefield. His book is a grand sweep cleverly assembled as 1862 marches on, complete with battlefield strategy and tactics explained. The carnage of the Peninsula Campaign, Shiloh, Second Manassas, Antietam, and Fredericksburg is gruesome.

Not escaping the author’s empathy and sympathy are dead horses and mules about which he paints haunting images, particularly in the aftermath of Antietam.

Two points of criticism are worth noting. Marvel contends that as President Lincoln “harbored his lifelong racial prejudice.” While it is easy to defend Marvel’s other interpretations, this one seems much more problematic.

Additionally, there is scant attention paid to the death of Lincoln’s son, Willie, in February of 1862, as part of the overall drama, and Lincoln’s “Meditation on the Divine Will” seems trivialized.

The second of a planned four-part series, Lincoln’s Darkest Year: The War in 1862 is sure to raise hackles, as one would presume the next two volumes will. But in the hands of a gifted writer, such as Marvel, and as we approach the Civil War Sesquicentennial, no doubt we will continue to fight the Civil War and wrestle with its legacy.

With a mix of pathos and bitterness, for Marvel the Civil War remains a waste of much time, talent, treasure and life and, in the end, was totally unnecessary.