The Civil War: A Narrative, Volume 1: Fort Sumter to Perryville
Shelby Foote
Language: English
Pages: 607
ISBN: 0394746236
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
FORT SUMTER TO PERRYVILLE
"Anyone who wants to relive the Civil War, as thousands of Americans apparently do, will go through this volume with pleasure.... Years from now, Foote's monumental narrative most likely will continue to be read and remembered as a classic of its kind."--New York Herald Tribune Book Review
"Here, for a certainty, is one of the great historical narratives of our century, a unique and brilliant achievement, one that must be firmly placed in the ranks of the masters."--Van Allen Bradley, Chicago Daily News
This first volume of Shelby Foote"s classic narrative of the Civil War opens with Jefferson Davis"s farewell to the United States Senate and ends on the bloody battlefields of Antietam and Perryville as the full horrible scope of America"s great war becomes clear. Exhaustively researched and masterfully written Foote"s epic account of the Civil War unfolds like a novel. "A stunning book full of color life character and a new atmosphere of the Civil War and at the same time a narrative of unflagging power. Eloquent proof that an historian should be a writer above all else." -Burke Davis "Anyone who wants to relive the Civil War . . . will go through this volume with pleasure. . . . Years from now Foote"s monumental narrative most likely will continue to be read and remembered as a classic of its kind." -New York Herald Tribune Book Review "To read this great narrative is to love the nation. . . . Whitman who ultimately knew and loved the bravery and frailty of the soldiers observed that the real Civil War would never be written and perhaps should not be. For me Shelby Foote has written it. . . . This work was done to last forever." -James M. Cox Southern Review
Clouds of Glory: The Life and Legend of Robert E. Lee
Manet and the American Civil War: The Battle of U.S.S Kearsarge and C.S.S. Alabama
Deadly Inferno: Battle of the Wilderness (Graphic History, Volume 12)
Army of the Potomac (Men-at-Arms, Volume 38)
Lincoln simultaneously with dictatorship and timidity. The Jacobins reacted as expected by taking the Secretary to their bosoms and pronouncing him “one of us.” Other praises came his way, less vigorous perhaps, but no less pleasant. “You have touched the national heart,” a friend declared, while another, in a punning mood, wrote that he much preferred the “Simon pure” article in the Tribune to the “bogus” report in the World. From Paris a member of the consulate, hearing of the dissension in the
attack was mounted against Fort Pulaski, a stout brick pentagon on Cockspur Island, guarding the mouth of the Savannah River. Heavy guns and mortars knocked it to pieces, breaching the casemates and probing for the powder magazine. After thirty-odd hours of bombardment, the white flag went up and the blue-clad artillerists moved in to accept the surrender. Mostly they were New Englanders, and when a Georgian made the inevitable allusion to wooden nutmegs, a Connecticut man, pointing to a 10-inch
not he who had forced the issue, but Lincoln, and this the world would see and know, along with the deception which had been practiced. Through his Secretary of War he sent the following message to General P. G. T. Beauregard, commanding the defenses at Charleston harbor: If you have no doubt as to the authorized character of the agent who communicated to you the intention of the Washington government to supply Fort Sumter by force, you will at once demand its evacuation, and, if this is
stop for fear of waking him. As she approached the climax of the story, wherein the bad man had the heroine in his power and was advancing on her for some evil purpose, Mrs Davis heard a voice exclaim: “The infernal villain!” and looking around saw her husband sitting bolt upright in bed, with both fists clenched. Whether this was the result of too much imagination, or too little, was a question which would linger down the years. But some there were, already, who believed that nothing except
his presence when he rode his charger through their camps, they were content to leave military decisions to his superior judgment. “Marching Along,” they sang on their conditioning hikes, back and forth across the “sacred soil” of their Virginia bridgehead: “McClellan’s our leader, he’s gallant and strong; For God and our country we are marching along!” Prodded by the politicians, who kept pointing out that the weather was fair and the roads still firm, Lincoln hoped that the army would move