If you want to learn about history it is best to read the reflections, diaries and memoirs of those who lived it. Samuel H. Sprott, 40th Alabama Infantry, Army of Tennessee, wrote his memoir 34 years after the War Between The States for a now defunct southern newspaper. This memoir was recently discovered tucked away in county probate records and probably not studied by historians for details about the W.B.T.S. in the deep South.
Sprott, tells the story of the 40th Alabama Infantry, Stone's Battalion and Ector's Brigade. I was especially interested in information about General Ector and his brigade as little is written about this unit especially at the battle of Chickamauga. He will educate you about the everyday life of the Confederate soldier in the Army of Tennessee. His and fellow comrade's trials and jubilations are all there.
The editors do a fine job coordinating Sprott's manuscript, filling in his thoughts and corroborating historical evidence.
Highly Recommended!

Any Civil War buff will find Dr. Louis Smith's "Cush" to be an outstanding addition to his/her personal library. It is an account that brings countless historical facts that will enrich that library in terms of the military engagements fought by Samuel Sprott and his men. But there is more to this work than the simple regurgitation of historical fact -- this is a book that reflects the struggles and privations of the everyday Civil War soldier as he endured the reality of his world: rotten weather, whizzing minnie balls, the deaths of his comrades. "Cush" is a look at the humanity behind the facts. It puts the reader in the Civil War -- fighting next to Sprott and his compatriots.

As a high school US History teacher, I have found that it is books such as "Cush" that makes history come alive to students. They can feel the emotion with which Sprott's story is told. And, because it is a primary source - straight from the "horse's mouth", it has much more credibility to it than the facts they can glean from their text books.

Dr. Smith has done a marvelous job of editing Sprott's papers. The work was no doubt tedious but at the same time must have been intensely rewarding when it was finished. After reading the book, I have come to feel like I knew Samuel Sprott on a personal basis!

This is an excellent primary source for a soldier's eye view of the daily experinece of the civil war. Unembelished with romantic bravado or the mythology of causes, Captain Samuel Sprott's journal of the experiences of the 40th Alabama regiment presents the reality of war for the common soldier- general bordome and petty detail alongside short episodes of battle, tragedy, and confusion. Smith and Quist do an excellent job of providing essential supporting information in the preface and appendix while avoiding the temptation to intrude upon Sprott's narrations. The book should be a hit in the classroom as a primary document that is brief, easy to read, and relatively inexpensive. For the same reasons it is recommended to the general reader.

A thrilling adventure! More thrilling even than all her other books combined!

It has been said that most great men are bad men. Samuel Eliot Morison's superb biography of John Paul Jones supports, if not proves, that proposition. Jones's greatness is undeniable: Although he was the son of an obscure Scottish gardener, he virtually founded the United States Navy, he won one of the most important sea battles of the Revolutionary War when he was only 32, and he later commanded ships in the service of France and Russia. But Jones also was extremely temperamental, excessively vain (after receiving an honor from France, he liked to be addressed as "Chevalier Paul Jones"), and he had mistresses in practically every port. Morison, a longtime professor at Harvard and the author of the authoritative, Pulitzer Prize-winning biography of Christopher Columbus, as well as a massive, multi-volume history of the U.S. Navy during World War II, reports all of this in a matter-of-fact fashion. Morison's Jones is a great sailor and a man of the world in every respect.

According to Morison, Young Jones was highly ambitious and went to sea at age 13 "as a road to distinction." During the next 15 years, he learned well his trade and he also became an American patriot. At the beginning of the Revolutionary War, Morison writes that the American navy was "only a haphazard collection of converted merchant ships," and the Royal Navy was probably the most powerful in history. But General George Washington, according to Morison, "had a keen appreciation of the value and capabilities of sea power," and, in October 1775, Congress appointed a Naval Committee of Seven to manage the colonies' maritime affairs. In December 1775, seven months before the American colonies declared their independence from Great Britain, Jones accepted a commission as a lieutenant in the continental navy.

Although Morison is primarily interested in Jones's activities during the Revolutionary War, he makes a number of more generally cogent observations. For instance, the United States government was in a state of nearly constant impecuniousness and was able to afford to build only one of the largest class of naval vessels, a ship of the line, during the conflict. In Morison's view, this was the status of the war at the time of the battle off Flamborough Head in September 1779, which secured Jones's fame: "The War of Independence had reached a strategic deadlock, a situation that recurred in both World Wars of the twentieth century. Each party, unable to reach a decision by fleet action or pitched land battles, resorts to raids and haphazard, desultory operations which have no military effect." That deadlock continued, according to Morison, until 1781. Morison also writes that Britain took the position "since the United States were not a recognized government but a group of rebellious provinces,...American armed ships were no better than pirates."

Morison appears to be deeply impressed by Jones's technical competence: "One of Paul Jones's praiseworthy traits was his constant desire to improve his professional knowledge." That passion for self-improvement reached fruition September 1779 off the Yorkshire coast of east-central England when a squadron which Jones commanded from the Bonhomme Richard defeated the H.M.S. Serapis in a three and one-half hour battle during which those ships were locked in what Morison describes as a "deadly embrace." (Bonhomme Richard sank during the aftermath of the fierce fighting.) It was during this battle that Jones defiantly refused to surrender with the immortal phrase: "I have not yet begun to fight." According to Morison, "[c]asualties were heavy for an eighteenth-century naval battle. Jones estimated his loss at 150 killed and wounded out of a total of 322." Morison writes that Jones was at his "pinnacle of fame" in late 1779, and, when he visited France, which was allied with the U.S. during the Revolutionary War, in April 1780: He became the lion of Paris, honored by everyone from the King down." When Jones returned to the United States in 1781, however, he was unable to obtain what Morison describes as a "suitable command," and he never fought again under the American flag. In 1788 and 1789, as "Kontradmiral Pavel Ivanovich Jones" he swerved in the navy of Catherine II, "the Great," Empress of Russia. When he died in 1792, he was buried in France, but, in 1905, his body was returned to the United States and now rests in the chapel of the Naval Academy in Annapolis, Maryland.

Jones's nasty temper is frequently on display. Morison remarks on various occasions that his crews were "disobedient," "sullen," and "surly." Which was cause and which was effect is difficult to ascertain. Jones clearly was an overbearing commander, which may explain, though does not excuse, his crews' bad attitudes. On one occasion Jones had one of his officers "placed under arrest for insubordination [giving the officer] a chance to clear it up, and Jones was unwilling to admit his error." It is not prudent to compare events during war in the late 18th century to the peace and prosperity of our own time, but no reader of this book will be impressed by Jones's interpersonal skills.

Morison makes numerous references to "prize money," the curious, but apparently then-universal, practice of rewarding captains and their crews in cash for capturing enemy ships. The fact that Jones pursued prize money with vigor may raise additional doubts about his character, but I would guess Morison believed that Jones simply followed a custom which probably motivated many successful naval captains of his time.

Morison held the rank of admiral in the U.S. Navy during World War II. Although the degree of detail in his narrative is fascinating, I found some passages too technical, and I suspect some other lay readers may be baffled as well. (The book's charts and diagrams were, however, very helpful.) But that is a small price to pay for a wonderful biography of one of the most intriguing figures of the American Revolution.

A hero of my youth, this book appears to tell the full story. This is a scolarly work which reads easily. I only wish I would have read this book in my twenties. There are some wonderful life lessons in this biography. If you read it you will learn his flaws, his good and fine attributes, and some mysteries. This is first-rate biography and detective work by the author. I recommend it.

As someone who had recently seen the "John Paul Jones" movie that was made in 1959 with Robert Stack, I was curious to learn more about the man who put the U.S. Navy on the map. Of course, most know him as the one who coined the immortal, defiant phrase "I have not yet begun to fight!" This book delves beyond that, as Morison shows Jones as he really was, a human being born in obscurity in Scotland who developed a love for the sea at an early age. He was simultaneously a shrewd combatant with a quick temper (in many ways the American equivalent of the great English admiral Nelson,) and a gentleman who enjoyed the company of numerous lovely ladies ashore. Morison leaves no stone unturned as he takes the reader on a detailed, captivating journey (from page one, the reader is hooked.) He sailed the waters that bore witness to Jones's battles and drew extensively upon the naval archives of the four primary countries that figured in Jones's life. To give you some idea, the engagement with H.M.S. Serapis is fleshed out in such marvelous detail that one can almost smell the gunpowder, but Morison goes beyond that, explaining what happened before, during, and after, most of which one would not learn in history class. In fact, I would make book that at least ninety percent of what one will read in this book would not be learned in history class. Morison has included pictures, charts, diagrams, excerpts from letters (some of which are in French with English translations), and has deftly blended them and the text into a perfect biography. For anyone who wants to learn more about Jones, this is required reading.

In the midst of the first annual Armistice parade in Centralia, WA on November 11, 1919, four soldiers were slain on the streets of their hometown by members of the Industrial Workers of the World, a labor union dedicated to organizing all facets of production workers into "one big union." The chaos and vigilante efforts which immediately followed the shootings resulted in the gruesome lynching of a union man believed to be responsible for the seemingly unprovoked attack and a severe imprisonment sentenced to virtually every union man in the region, regardless of culpability. Significantly, the shootings in Centralia and the struggle to gain clarity on the situation during the aftermath have been largely ignored in American history. Dismissed as a brutal clash rife with misunderstanding on both sides of the labor versus management issue, many historians have elected not to pursue the complex issues surrounding the movement gone tragically awry.

Yet Tom Copeland does a magnificent job in bringing these tragic events back to the forefront of consciousness in his biography rife with historical analysis. Copeland reprises the events from the unique perspective of attorney Elmer Smith, virtually the only lawyer in the timber industry region who was willing to champion the working class and the disenfranchised over the deep pockets of big business.

Other historical works have deliberated on the actions of both the Legionnaires and the I.W.W., or "Wobblies," on that fateful November day. Though outraged sentiment at the time demanded harsh punishments against the Wobblies, it would later be revealed that a trial laden with manipulated testimony and enforced by the intimidating presence of the U.S. Army only masked the fact that, in this instance, the Legionnaires had provoked the attack. Copeland's book, however, is the first to isolate the actions of Elmer Smith, a lawyer who not only counseled the Wobblies prior to the November attack, but who advised them that they were well within their rights to defend themselves and their I.W.W. hall against mounting aggressions from the Legionnaires and who was jailed for nearly 6 months pending trial for soliciting this (quite legal) advice to the Wobblies.

This book should be read for a number of reasons. It is, of course, particularly insightful for those of us who live in the Northwest region and within spitting distance of where the most tumultuous labor disputes in American history took place. More than that, though, it is a sobering lesson in how the wheels of government really turn for those Americans not wealthy enough to grease the axles. It is a demonstration of how the U.S. Constitution can become a suspended after-thought when the concerns of Big Business are at hand. The book also illuminates a rather ghastly period of Americana in the World War One era that many have thought best forgotten: the mighty decimating the weak; the rampant xenophobia which dictated public and business policy; the patriotic jingoism which overruled any dissent in American foreign policy. Copeland's book mostly succeeds on a humanitarian level, though, in his portrayal of plain Elmer Smith as a man of integrity, ignited by his passion for social reform and at all times gifted with an overwhelming sense of morality and human decency. It's not by coincidence that others joked of him: "What's more frightening than a working man with brains? A lawyer with a heart."

Copeland is every bit as strong in pointing out the flaw in Smith's character along side his strengths. In his zeal for supporting the Wobblies both before 1919 and in the decade after when he worked tireless for their release from prison, Smith's family suffered enormously. They were instantly social pariahs to the community of Centralia, WA and their needs were often secondary to Smith's concerns for the union. Smith's family barely scraped by financially after he was disbarred by the State of Washington and were left devastated after Smith, ignoring his own deteriorating health, died at the age of 42 from a series of bleeding ulcers. In all, Copeland does a tremendous job gathering the sentiments of Smith's surviving family and molding a 3-dimensional portrait of a human being, warts and all.

I read a review recently of the Academy Award winning documentary, "One Day in September" which chronicles the kidnapping and assassination of 11 Israeli athletes at the 1972 Olympics in Munich. "Why should the film have been made and why should it be shown?" the Washington Post asked. "Because the world must not be allowed to forget, no matter how much it would like to." The same could be said of the tragedy in Centralia, which sadly, seems to have totally been forgotten in a truly deliberate fashion.

Social movements depend not on a few charismatic leaders, but on the efforts of countless people whose names will never be remembered in our history books. The tendency, however, is to treat movements as the result of nearly superhuman individuals who alone create structural change. In this interpretation, the average citizens' duty is simply to do nothing but wait for a leader to lead them to the promised land. The cumulative effect of such history is the disempowerment of individuals, who learn to see history as something that "happens" to them, not as something that they can help create.

Tom Copeland's book, through the telling of Elmer Smith's story, reminds us of this truth. The progress that has been made during the past century in securing stonger rights for workers is due not to a few huge individuals, but to the Elmer Smiths of the country, whose daily and usually unrewarded sacrifices created a real gain for wage earners. We can never know the stories of all who gave up their comfortable lives to work in the labor movement, or how many suffered dearly for it. But Copeland has recovered one such individual, whose story is both an inspiration to activists and a sobering reminder of the ease with which our government can redefine human rights when dealing with dissidents.

As Copeland concludes, "By fanning the fire of discontent during his lifetime, he (Smith) helped keep the flame of justice alive for generations." This book is a reminder that all progress is due to those who question conventional wisdom and refuse to consent to a system which conflicts with their conscience. It also forces us to ask a crucial question: what are we doing today to fan the fire of discontent?

The International Critical Commentaries were without fail very authoritative and extremely thorough works when first published. However, most are now very old. A few of these older ones (notably Driver on Deuteronomy, Montgomery on Daniel and Kings) are still of substantial value. Unfortunately, this book is not. It has been completely superseded by later works, such as the two-volume commentary by P Kyle McCarter. If you happen to own a copy, it may be worth keeping, but if you are looking to buy a commentary on Samuel, look elsewhere.