"LIKE THE WAR ITSELF, THIS IS A STORY OF REMARKABLE PERSONAL DRAMA."-New York Times Book Review
More Praise for A Bohemian Brigade
"Highly engaging . . . Perry has a special feel for his topics and a keen eye for detail."-Wall Street Journal
"James Perry has written a compelling and detailed account of the men who did their best to cover-and, at times, fight-the first instant-news war. This book tells the story of the sometimes painful birth of the modern war correspondent."-Dan Rather, CBS News
"Civil War reporters were a colorful breed: rough, rowdy, courageous, competitive-occasionally even accurate. Jim Perry, a great reporter himself, recognizes these bohemian adventurers and brings them vividly to life in this entertaining and eye-opening look at the men who crafted the rough draft of our history."-Tony Horwitz, author of Confederates in the Attic: Dispatches from the Unfinished Civil War
"A Bohemian Brigade is a joyous account of a time when reporters did not take themselves seriously-nor did anyone else-written by one of the great reporters of his generation."-Sander Vanocur, The History Channel
Editorial Reviews Amazon.com Review A familiar figure on the modern battlefield is the combat correspondent, that hard-bitten, cynical journalist who chews on cigars and bullets and brings the smoke and gore back home. So the stereotype goes--and with basis in fact, as historian James Perry shows in this vigorous history of reporters on the front lines of the American Civil War.
Perry begins his narrative with the Crimean War, when the remarkable William Howard Russell sent dispatches of bungling and destruction to eager readers in London. When Russell, a larger-than-life character, strapped on his pistols and set sail from England to cover the outbreak of the American Civil War, he found that his fame had preceded him--and that he'd spawned many imitators. Newspapers North and South raced to scoop each other for the big stories of the day, fielding reporters who sought to outdo Russell at his own game.
Perry centers his narrative on a comparative handful of these homegrown journalists, whose work entailed constant danger on both sides of the line--bullets from the front, suspicious generals ever ready to charge the reporters with espionage on the rear. Most of the journalists acquitted themselves well in their work, although some were inclined to florid prose and not particularly troubled with questions of accuracy. Quoting extensively from the dispatches of those battlefield writers, good and bad, Perry examines their role in shaping American journalism--after the Civil War, the reading public demanded eyewitness accounts instead of canned official releases--and public opinion throughout an era of cataclysm. With A Bohemian Brigade, Perry adds a useful, and highly readable, footnote to our understanding of the era. --Gregory McNamee
From Library Journal Most Americans experienced the Civil War not on the battlefield but by reading newspapers stories composed by the rather colorful cast of characters that made up the press corps. Perry, senior political writer emeritus for the Wall Street Journal and author of Arrogant Armies, tells their story with vim and vigor, sometimes emulating his subjects' lively prose. Nevertheless, the resulting image is not always flattering. Correspondents all too often wanted to be part of the story they reported, boosted favorites and disparaged rivals, leaked valuable information, and engaged in wild speculation and gossip. Sometimes Perry accepts correspondents' accounts of their exploits uncritically; his narrative is far more a recounting of these occasionally tall tales than an analysis of news gathering, reporting, or the ambiguous status of many scribes. Recommended for larger popular libraries.
-Brooks D. Simpson, Arizona State Univ., Tempe
Copyright 2000 Reed Business Information, Inc.
DURING the presidential campaign of 1856 I lived in Northern Illinois. As one who dabbled a little in politics and a good deal in journalism, it was necessary for me to follow up some of the more important mass-meetings of the Republicans. At one of these great assemblies in Ogle County, to which the country people came on horseback, in farm-wagons, or afoot, from far and near, there were several speakers of local celebrity. Dr. Egan of Chicago, famous for his racy stories, was one, and "Joe" Knox of Bureau County, a stump-speaker of renown, was another attraction. Several other orators were "on the bills" for this long-advertised "Fremont and Dayton rally," among them being a Springfield lawyer who had won some reputation as a shrewd, close reasoner and a capital speaker on the stump. This was Abraham Lincoln, popularly known as "Honest Abe Lincoln." In those days he was not so famous in our part of the State as the two speakers whom I have named. Possibly he was not so popular among the masses of the people; but his ready wit, his unfailing good-humor, and the candor which gave him his character for honesty, won for him the admiration and respect of all who heard him. I remember once meeting a choleric old Democrat striding away from an open-air meeting where Lincoln was speaking, striking the earth with his cane as he stumped along and exclaiming, "He's a dangerous man, sir! a d—d dangerous man! He makes you believe what he says, in spite of yourself!" It was Lincoln's manner. He admitted away his whole case, apparently, and yet, as his political opponents complained, he usually carried conviction with him. As he reasoned with his audience, he bent his long form over the railing of the platform, stooping lower and lower as he pursued his argument, until, having reached his point, he clinched it (usually with a question), and then suddenly sprang upright, reminding one of the springing open of a jack-knife blade.
After Lincoln had been reëlected, he began to consider what he should do when his second term of office had expired. Mrs. Lincoln desired to go to Europe for a long tour of pleasure. The President was disposed to gratify her wish, but he fixed his eyes on California as a place of permanent residence. He thought that that country offered better opportunities for his two boys, one of whom was then in college, than the older States. He had heard so much of the delightful climate and the abundant natural productions of California, that he had become possessed of a strong desire to visit the State, and remain there if he were satisfied with the results of his observations. "When we leave this place," he said, one day, "we shall have enough, I think, to take care of us old people. The boys must look out for themselves. I guess mother will be satisfied with six months or so in Europe. After that, I should really like to go to California and take a look at the Pacific coast."
In Washington, he served as a political confidante of Mr. Lincoln, who used him for conversation and political intelligence, knowing that it would take a long time for his reports to see newspaper print on the other side of the country. "The President appeared often in Brooks' dispatches, the friendship of the two men being only hinted at. Brooks' wartime letters recorded several Lincoln anecdotes and stories, but only those that would neither embarrass nor belittle the President in the eyes of the reading and voting public," noted historian P.J. Staudenraus. "The reporter scrupulously preserved the President's confidence, and he did not flaunt his special access to the White House before his readers, but his close association with the chief executive provided him with insights, points of view and unique experiences that newspapermen in an Presidential administration would envy."2 The country would have been appalled, for example, had Brooks reported an experience he had while visiting with Dr. Anson Henry at the White House on May 6, 1863. Word arrived from General Joseph Hooker's headquarters about the Battle of Chancellorsville:
Bringing the