Last night I commented on #Grant1 (the first episode) after offering some observations earlier in the day about the genre in general. I wasn't surprised by what I saw, and I wasn't surprised by the reactions to it.
Let me concede at the beginning that I understand that some people will note inaccuracies with reenactor uniforms, terrain, weapons, etc. I tend to let that pass, but sometimes the issues took me out of the moment.
As for Grant, his uniform was wrong (he wore the coat of a major general as a brigadier general; I don't recall it being buttoned that way; he was primarily a pipe smoker before Donelson, and the story about how he used a cigar to direct operations would be funny.
Does that materially change things for me (pun implied)? No. I still like watching Patton, but I know the tanks are all wrong.
And, as I said yesterday, there's really nothing new here for people who have been working on Grant for over three decades. The fuss over Chernow's book, promoted by the author himself, about it being so revisionist is simply hogwash and disrespectful, at best born of ignorance.
Nor did the picture presented last night differ significantly from @AmExperiencePBS@WGBH's 2002 show, although there's only one talking head in common.
So why do I feel fairly satisfied with the result so far?
Simple. Much like Chernow's book, which, despite its faults, synthesized decades of Grant scholarship, #Grant on @HISTORY broadcast the current mainstream conventional wisdom to a wider audience.
This documentary would not have been possible in 1990. Anything done in the shadow of Bill McFeely's 1981 book would have been far, far different.
Scholars understand Grant differently now. We don't all agree, but the discussions are different and more informed.
Thus it was personally gratifying to see a portrayal of Grant for a popular audience informed by the work of the past thirty years.
Now, a word about talking heads ...
There was only one Grant biographer on last night. That was Ron Chernow, whose book is the basis for the series.
There are some people who have worked on Grant present, notably Joan Waugh.
Bill McFeely, John Y. Simon, and Jean Smith have passed away. Geoffrey Perret's been forgotten. H. W. Brands, a standard talking head, is absent. So is Ronald C. White. Si Bunting isn't there. Charles Calhoun? John Marzalek? We'll see.
These are the usual suspects.
Many of you have noticed that I'm not there, either.
Interestingly, someone associated with the programming contacted me years ago, and we talked on the phone. Nothing noteworthy happened, but that was the last contact.
Others can answer why my face isn't there.
But I'm there.
There are those who know that I've been working on Grant (among other things) for most of my professional scholarly life. I bring to that study broader and wider concerns about political and military history, the presidency, and the Civil War and Reconstruction.
Anyone who has read my work and watched the series knows how much the former shaped the content and the themes of the latter, and never more clearly than in the way fresh faces drawn upon that work to shape their own understanding of Grant.
To see that one's work has made such an impact is extremely gratifying.
I didn't set out to rehabilitate Grant. I set out to understand him better. Both the 2002 and 2020 documentaries reflect that new understanding.
Sometimes I think the pendulum has swung too much the other way. But I'm still writing.
You don't need to see yourself to know you're there.
Besides, I like seeing other people sharing their knowledge and enthusiasm. I've done that enough.
Ben Kemp, Avery Lentz, and Timothy D. Smith are amazing. I love watching Christy Coleman lay down the law. Others offer a freshness that we need to have instead of recycling the same people.
Time and again critics of Ulysses S. Grant's generalship claim that, above all else, he was "Grant the Butcher," who prevailed because of his superiority in resources (which was seemingly endless) despite a certain mindlessness and dullness.
Grant's supporters counter this charge largely in a statistical fashion. They compare the percentage of Grant's losses versus the percentage of losses suffered by other generals, including Robert E. Lee.
Sometimes these analyses focus on the 1864 Overland Campaign, which in the minds of some people is the only campaign Grant ever fought ... the claims of butcher rely mostly on May-June 1864.
Today's the 160th anniversary of one of the most misunderstood battles of the American Civil War ... Cold Harbor.
The story of the battle has turned into a myth that in turn has long shaped the image of Ulysses S. Grant's generalship.
Make no mistake about it ... Cold Harbor was a significant setback for Grant and US forces during the Overland Campaign. Several US commanders performed poorly that day, especially in not carrying out George G. Meade's orders to reconnoiter the Confederate position.
However, we now know that tales of 7,000 men falling in less than an hour are false. We also know that the quest for a ceasefire to recover wounded and dead between the lines was botched by two prideful commanders.
It's often asserted the as president Ulysses S. Grant destroyed the Ku Klux Klan.
The reality is not nearly as satisfying or uplifting to those who deplore white supremacist paramilitary terrorism as conducted primarily by veterans of the Confederate war effort.
The KKK became a shorthand descriptor for the many forms of white supremacist terrorism that slowly took organized form in the late 1860s. There were other massacres (Memphis) and attacks (New Orleans) against blacks and their white allies in the Reconstructing South.
By 1867 and 1868, when Black men in large numbers exercised the right to vote for the first time, white supremacist terrorism, often defined as KKK activity, targeted Black voters and Republican officeholders.
Visual portrayals of what happened in Wilmer McLean's parlor on April 9, 1865, at Appomattox Court House are worth some study.
Here's a simple early version: two generals, one table.
The table is a curious effort to bring together elements of the two tables involved in the event. Grant said at a brown wood oval table; Lee sat at a squarish marble table. Grant's chair was a swivel desk chair backed in leather, while Lee sat in a high-backed chair.
Yet it took a while for artists to include those four pieces of furniture, let alone to assign them to the general who used them.
As true Americans commemorate the anniversary of Lee's surrender to Grant at Appomattox, let's recall that the events of April 9 marked an end to one of the most successful pursuits in military history ... one that is often underappreciated.
In some sixteen days the US forces under Grant's command repulsed a breakout attempt, severed Confederate supply lines and railroads, forced the evacuation of Petersburg and the the Confederate capital at Richmond.
That's for starters.
They then outmarched a foe determined to escape, blocked any chance of the enemy combining forces in North Carolina, then headed the insurgents off before they could reach the protection of the Blue Ridge Mountains.
In the process the foe suffered nearly 50% losses.