Walking the Berkshires

Aid and Comfort to the Enemy: An American Civil War Tradition Examined

 A guest blogger at Kevin Levin's Civil War Memory, Michael Schaffner has written a brilliant post that examines the evidence for the Angel of Marye's Heights legend, one of the most celebrated examples of charity to fallen foes in American history.  Go there now and read it.  

The national need for reconciliation and to make sense of all the loss and slaughter of the American Civil War helped to propagate stories like that of Sgt. Kirkland.  Whether or not it actually happened that way is less important than what the story represents (and to whom).   The idea the the better angels of our nature were present on our internecine battlefields helped "to bind up the nation's wounds"  and perhaps as well to redeem the humanity of former combatants. 

It has become a pervasive theme in the memory of this great national trauma as a war of brother against brother.  We still need it to be true, even now as we enter the sesquicentennial of that war, which is why revealing Kirkland as history records him, rather than as a core myth and symbol of "sublime compassion", is likely to provoke strong reactions.

There are many similar anecdotes from this conflict in addition to the Kirkland story, particularly those involving the fraternity of Masons.  A quick internet search reveals numerous stories from the Civil War when the obligation to come to the aid of a brother Mason in distress apparently trumped even opposing sides on the battlefield.

This theme is very much part of the folklore of the Civil War, and its memory has meaning to more than modern Masons.  It is possible that masons in the Civil War in mid 19th century America did believe and behave this way; that even if they were at war with each other there was peace in their lodges.  This is certainly how they wished to remember themselves in the decades that followed.

Freemasonry, however, was not universally accepted in America, nor across all regions of the divided country.  It may also be that postwar professions of christian charity and humanity toward captured or fallen foes helped reintegrate the secret society of Masons into the mainstream of reconciliation. 

Are such claims of the ties among warring Masons limited to the U.S. Civil War?  During the American Revolution, the association of many of the principle founders and members of the Society of the Cincinnati with freemasonry is well known (and well hyped). There were numerous military lodges among royalist as well as patriot battalions, and at least in the case of the British 17th Regiment of foot, the bonds of Freemasonry prompted a patriot general to return their captured Masonic regalia. 

But did patriotic Masons in the American Revolution give aid and comfort to wounded or captured brother loyalists, or British masons to their American brethren who fell into their hands?  And if so, can this be distinguished from the conventions of the treatment to which gentlemen and officers were entitled, especially in a war in which the status of rebel combatants was far from settled and the ties with the mother country had loosened?  There may be such examples, but they will take some serious scholarship to unearth, and they are not part of our founding myth.  They were not, in fact, needed as part of a process of reintegration of loyalists into the new republic, as perhaps they were as part of the process of reconciliation following the Civil War.

Last Post

Not mine: theirs.  On this Armistice Day, 91 years after the cession of hostilities in WWI, there are just three confirmed veterans of that war who remain alive.  Last year there were 10 confirmed WWI veterans still with us, down from 23 in 2007 and 53 in 2006. 

108 year old Frank W. Buckles is the last remaining American doughoy.  At 109, Jack Babcock, a dual Canadian/American national, is the last Canadian veteran.  The last UK seaman is 108 year old Claude S. Choules, now living in Australia.  That is all.

I am struck by what these oldest of the old have said about war as their numbers have dwindled.  Claude Choules does not participate in remembrance day commemorations, after a 41 year military career that spanned both World Wars, because according to family members "he didn't think we should glorify war."  Britian's Harry Patch died earlier this year, respectfully declining a state funeral and having said that "the only lessons to be drawn from the 'organized murder' of war were those of peace, compromise, and reconciliation." There is more in their words of Wilfred Owen than In Flanders Fields.

We marvel at these very few men from that time beyond all other living memories, but what they remember is more important than the novelty of their extreme longevity.  The notes of their last post are sounding.  What will we hear in their echoes?

Nominations Open for Cliopatria Awards for the Best in History Blogging in 2009

The Cliopatria Awards are accepting nominations this month for the best in History Blogging published after December 1, 2008.  Since 2005, this has been the preeminent recognition of excellence in history blogging, with a panel of judges reviewing nominations in the following categories:

• Best Group Blog
• Best Individual Blog
• Best New Blog
• Best Post
• Best Series of Posts
• Best Writer

I was deeply honored last year to receive a 2008 Cliopatria award for the best series of posts.

This is a wonderful way to recognize the quality of blogging efforts of professional and amateur historians alike.  Why not drop in at Cliopatria at History News Network and give them an excellent slate of nominees from your favorite history blogs and posts?

In Memoriam: What Henry Knox has to do with 9/11

In January, 1776, Henry Knox and his civilian teamsters  passed through Egremont, Massachusetts on their way through the Berkshires with a train of cannon and other war supplies destined for Boston.  In September, 2001, hijacked passenger airliners were deliberately crashed into the heart of New York's financial district, the Pentagon, and (after passenger intervention) a field in Pennsylvania.  As is evident from the photograph at left, these two separate events are now commemorated together in North Egremont.

The vertical marker is one of the 30 granite and bronze monuments placed in 1927 to commemorate the Knox expedition by the Commonwealth of Massachusetts during the Sesquicentennial of the American Revolution.  The route taken by Knox is poorly documented by primary sources, and in 1975 this marker was moved from its original location along Rte 23 in South Egremont to its present site in North Egremont to reflect a different theory of where Knox crossed the Taconics into the Berkshires.  The monument itself remains the property of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, and the small patch of open space on which it is situated is owned by the municipality.

The nearly horizontal plaque and its stone and cement base were physically integrated with the Knox memorial in 2002.  The North Egremont 9/11 memorial reads as follows:

"This monument is dedicated to the thousands of men, women and children killed by terrorist attacks in New York City, Washington, D.C. and Pennsylvania on September 11th, 2001.  They died for our country and our freedom.  We shall not forget.  Dedicated on September 11, 2002 North Egremont, Massachusetts"

As a war memorial with the fresh association of 9/11, these conjoined monuments have attracted both a small American flag and someone's personal offering of a conch shell.  Visually, as a piece of public art, the Knox memorial is now the headstone, casting its shadow on the graves of 9/11.

In many ways, these memorials seem more dissimilar than alike, reflecting a great deal both about the events they commemorate and the values and attitudes of those who erected them and how we remember today.  There is something very intentional about the union of these two monuments, with one the visible extension and successor to the other.  There is a very clear message that those died in the terrorist attacks were as patriotic as those who dragged the cannons to Boston.   The North Egremont memorial was an expression of fresh grief and resolve to give meaning to terrible losses.  Whereas the Knox commemoration was an expression of state pride in the accomplishments of a favorite son and role that Boston, and the cannons brought from Ticonderoga, played in our Nation's founding. 

People in 1927 could look to recent victory in Europe - "Lafayette, we are here! -  as the coming of age of that nation which their Revolutionary ancestors helped to establish.  These monuments, which along with their counterparts in New York represent one of the earliest "heritage trails" established in America, gave a local connection to larger events.  That connection is precisely what this September 11th memorial is all about.  There is a strong cultural connection in this part of western New England to New York City which is home to many of our part-time residents. Many of us lost love ones there, or are close to others who did.

Local commemorations, however, often reflect individual sensibilities and the need to make the personal very public.  I do not know who was behind the North Egremont memorial, or the decision to physically integrate it with the Knox monument. I can contrast it with a private effort by her friends to plant a native American Elm cultivar with a stone plaque in the memory of a Salisbury, Connecticut resident who died that day.  I can also compare it to the current controversy in Kent, Connecticut over a grieving father's insistence that the wording of a public 9/11 public memorial to his son include the phrase "murdered by Moslem extremists."  The complete wording as proposed is as follows:

James Gadiel
February 3, 1978
A gentleman and a gentle man
Lifelong resident of Kent
Murdered by Moslem extremists
September 11, 2001

In recent days, what previously had divided a small town is now a conservative cause celeb thanks to national exposure.  I will note, as an aside, that "Muslim" and "Moslem" are not interchangeable, with the latter word an older transliteration that less accurately reflects the Arabic pronunciation /mʊslɪm/.  Some Muslims, I understand, find the older word offensive, analogous, perhaps, to calling Beijing "Peking". I rather doubt that changing from one self referential word to the other would address the controversy, but thought it worth considering that "Moslem" is the word proposed for the memorial.

What is written in stone is meant to be gospel.  What we cast in bronze we intend to endure beyond our span of years.  What we chose to record, and how we record it, is what we want others to remember.  Yet time and the distance from living memory can make some public monuments lose their meaning, especially when demographics change and the old surnames on the war memorials are no longer represented in the community.  Three of the Knox monuments in New York have simply vanished, and others have been moved about in response to development.  "Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!".

Imbuing the Knox memorial in North Egremont (which was moved to its current site just a few decades ago)  with the meaning of 9/11 may have rescued it from obscurity, even if for the benefit of modern interpretation of the more recent event.  As an historian I find the pairing troubling, but I also know that the object is not the event, but rather an artifact of its own time.  It is therefore subject to reinterpretation by subsequent generations, revealing much about what we remember, and how we recast the past to give meaning to the present.

Hope and the Politics of Peace

Nobody - neither the bookies nor the pundits - saw this coming. 

"The Nobel Peace Prize goes to President Barack Obama for his extraordinary efforts to strengthen international diplomacy and cooperation between peoples."

This award strikes many in America as more of an "A for effort" than recognition of significant accomplishments only 9 months into his first term as US President.  In making its announcement, the Nobel Foundation offered this insight into its selection of Obama for this award:

"Only very rarely has a person to the same extent as Obama captured the world's attention and given its people hope for a better future. His diplomacy is founded in the concept that those who are to lead the world must do so on the basis of values and attitudes that are shared by the majority of the world's population."

In light of this justification, Obama's speech last month before the UN General Assembly may have helped make up the minds of the Nobel Committee:

"I have been in office for just nine months -- though some days it seems a lot longer. I am well aware of the expectations that accompany my presidency around the world. These expectations are not about me. Rather, they are rooted, I believe, in a discontent with a status quo that has allowed us to be increasingly defined by our differences, and outpaced by our problems. But they are also rooted in hope -- the hope that real change is possible, and the hope that America will be a leader in bringing about such change."

So perhaps Obama received the award for taking American diplomacy in a new direction, and for his willingness to define the tasks that lie ahead as a shared responsibility among all nations.  Certainly this passage from his UN address makes that clear:

"Some of our actions have yielded progress. Some have laid the groundwork for progress in the future. But make no mistake: This cannot solely be America's endeavor. Those who used to chastise America for acting alone in the world cannot now stand by and wait for America to solve the world's problems alone. We have sought -- in word and deed -- a new era of engagement with the world. And now is the time for all of us to take our share of responsibility for a global response to global challenges."

There is no more symbolic - and political - Nobel award than the Peace Prize. It is by its very nature a validation of ideals. 

• It has been granted to those who brokered the end of wars (Teddy Roosevelt, Henry Kissinger)
• It has been awarded to  those who by their example kept the world's attention on the need to confront injustice and oppression in brutally repressive societies (Aung San Suu Kyi, Desmond Tutu, Nelson Mandela, Lech Walesa). 
• It has been given in hope to former adversaries whose previous record was anything but peaceful (Yassir Arafat, F.W. DeKlerk, Anwar Al-Sadat).
•  It has recognized those who have dedicated themselves to the alleviation of human suffering (The International Committee of the Red Cross, Mother Teresa, International Campaign to Ban Landmines, Doctors Without Borders).  
• And it has been granted to visionaries and organizations who articulate a profoundly different way of dealing with global conflicts and challenges (The Quakers, International Physicians for the Prevention of Nuclear War,  Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change and its most visible proponent, Al Gore). 

If anywhere, it is in this last category where Barack Obama's award may fit, though for me and many others it seems premature.

I believe that the Nobel Committee selects Peace Prize winners as much to make a statement of ideals as to recognize the saints and successful peacemakers among us.  In drawing attention to Barack Obama, it seeks to validate what is still an untried vision, not only for American diplomacy but for international problem-solving and conflict resolution. 

It will remain a very controversial award here at home even as it is lauded abroad,  not only because of concerns that America's interests will be sublimated to those of other nations but also because it is still very early in his presidency and the success or failure of his vision and governance remains to be seen.  There is so much that is symbolic in Obama's presidency and it is too soon for there to be much of substance.  We are leery of mythologizing our sitting presidents - one must have been dead for 5 years before his image appears on a postage stamp - and we like to think that America is a meritocracy and that we earn whatever success and recognition we achieve in life rather than having it given to us preferentially.  Those who oppose affirmative action may see yet another example of it in this award.  Those who are inspired by his presidency will find it affirming.  It is certain that partisan politics will see this award as another wedge issue.

I believe that there is hardly a world leader who carries as much symbolism and upon whom so many fix their hopes and aspirations as Barack Obama.  A symbolic award for a symbolic Presidency may be quite fitting after all.  We can only hope that deeds follow words in the years to come.

More (10/9/2009):  President Obama is certainly a class act:

"I am both surprised and deeply humbled by the decision of the Nobel Committee.  Let me be clear; I do not view it as a recognition of my own accomplishments, but rather as an affirmation of American leadership on behalf of aspirations held by people of all nations.  To be honest, I do not feel that I deserve to be in the company of so many of the transformative figures who've been honored by this prize: men and women who've inspired me, and inspired the whole world through their courageous pursuit of peace.  But I also know that this prize reflects the kind of world that those men and women and all Americans want to build.  A world that gives life to our founding documents.   And I know that throughout history, the Nobel Peace prize has not just been used to honor specific achievement, It's also be used as a means to give momentum to a set of causes.  And that is why I will accept this award as a call to action, a call to all nations to confront the common challenges of the 21st century."

Of Quagmires and Hollywood Endings

What was the last significant American movie about the Viet Nam era?  Stuck?  Let me rephrase the question.  Have there been any this decade?  Here are your choices:

We Were Soldiers (March, 2002) : Mel Gibson

The Quiet American (February, 2003) Michael Caine

Word of Honor (December 2003) Don Johnson

Faith of my Fathers (May 2005) TV movie about POW John McCain

Rescue Dawn (July 2007) Christian Bale

American Gangster (November 2007) Denzel Washington, Russell Crowe

1968 Tunnel Rats (March 2009) Independent film

I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that since the Gulf War, the Viet Nam war movie has been in a state of arrested development.

Forrest Gump and Dead Presidents were the decade's most notable offerings in the 1990's, and I do not mean to imply that a film had to be highbrow or highly political to be notable.  Forrest Gump's importance is not what it has to say about history but as an early, high profile use of digital manipulation of historic film footage. Dead Presidents is just classic Blacksploitation revisited. Not a Deerhunter or Full Metal Jacket among them,nor yet a Rambo.

Since 9/11, the genre continues to be impoverished.  Gibson's movie, filmed in 2001, is a continuation of the redemptive, heroic depiction of the service and sacrifice of American soldiers in Viet Nam - and their families at home - that arose in American society in the late 1980s and continues to this day.  The Quiet American is based on a novel from an earlier era and is more notable for the Oscar nominated performance of Michael Caine than what the story itself has to say about American involvement in Southeast Asia.  The rest are throwbacks of varying quality, but do nothing to carry the conversation about how we interpret the events of the fast receding past and that heavily value laden conflict.

Mainstream American films - aside for those that go direct to video - quite naturally tend to track with the tastes of contemporary American audiences.  American films about Viet Nam will indicate how contemporary politics and society grapple with the memory of what amounts to a period of national trauma. A gung ho film like John Wayne's Green Berets gives way to the nihilism of Apocalypse Now, the morality play of Platoon, the revenge fantasy of Rambo.  Depictions of the Viet Nam veteran progress from hero to outcast to perpetrator to victim and back to hero, and that is where we are left as a new generation of veterans emerges from a new series of conflicts.

Maybe there is nothing new for Hollywood to say about Viet Nam because we have come full circle, or perhaps we are stalled by contemporary events.   Maybe when the first President Bush declared during the Gulf War that we have put Viet Nam behind us, it foreshadowed the second''s declaration of "mission accomplished".  And maybe in another ten years, the memory of our current wars will inform how Hollywood revisits Viet Nam. 

Either that, or we will get another pulpy Quentin Tarantino gorefest along the lines of Inglorious Bastards.  

Passings

Human beings are acutely aware of the passage of time.  We order our lives around it, reflect on our successes and disappointments as our memories lengthen and the past recedes.  We drown out the old year with excess and hedge our mortality by resolving to live more healthy lives in the new one.  Especially during times of personal transition, we note society's losses while contemplating our own.

Great Britain buried the last of its WWI combat veterans this summer (just three soldiers from the Great War still survive).  Very few people are alive today who even have memories of those terrible years.  They are living echos of a past that the rest of us only know as history. 

Then there are landmark deaths that seem to close out an era, or remind us of our youth and that our own experience is now part of history.  For many, Ted Kennedy's death is such a milestone, and it will certainly be packaged that way in the media.  I am too young to have been entranced by the Kennedy magic or outraged by Chappaquiddick. My grandmother couldn't stand the Kennedys but some of my cousins were close to them.  My personal awareness of Ted Kennedy began with the Democratic Presidential Primary battle in the summer of 1980, and - through several degrees of separation - with the 1962 Buick Skylark convertible that Ethel Kennedy sold to my Uncle.  I once saw him in a gray business suit standing alone outside T.F. Greene airport in Rhode Island with a small dog, and for such a large man at that moment he seemed frail and oddly vulnerable.  

I suspect it will be a different generation that feels nostalgia or personal connection to the death of Senator Kennedy than the one that felt the loss of Michael Jackson, or for that matter with the very few remaining soldiers of the Great War.  Their deaths shouldn't be about our own mortality, but even as we eulogize and reflect on the accomplishments of their lifetimes, we are always aware of the progress of our own.

Really Bad History Movies

There are plenty of instances where anachronisms creep into historical films, or screenplays play a bit fast and loose with the facts for the sake of a good story.  The massacre of Colonel Munro's column by Indians in the woods beyond Fort William Henry made for stirring drama in the most recent version of The Last of the Mohicans, even if it didn't happen quite that way in 1757. 

We are not concerned about the occasional wristwatch on a Viking or a misplaced chronology here or there.  Even films that scrupulously strive for historical accuracy can slip up from time to time.  No, what this post intends to expose to much deserved scorn are other sorts of movie altogether - the counter-factual "docudrama" with pretensions to truth, and the faux historical epic with hardly a minute of actual fact in an otherwise sloppy sea of melodrama.

The difference between the two may be a matter of sins of commission and sins of omission.  Ollie Stone's JFK and D.W. Griffith's Birth of a Nation are both slickly produced revisionist fantasies masquerading as history, as sumptuous and seductive as propaganda as they are devoid of historic merit.  Much can be learned from both, but not what the directors intended.  These films tell us a great deal about the political sensibilities of their creators and their times, but far less about the actual events they purport to depict.

The wall of shame would need to be long, indeed, to account for the many travesties passed off on film as history, though in fairness it must be said that Hollywood gets much of it right far more often than not.  I am loathe to suggest a "top ten" list for the very worst, but the following films should be avoided by any seeking to learn something of the history they make such hash of for our entertainment:

-  Pearl Harbor:  I am told that the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor, and indeed this happens in the movie.  The rest is absolute rubbish as far as history goes.  One gets the impression that the producers figured if James Cameron could get audiences to believe in Leonardo and Kate's characters, Ben Afleck ought to be able to get them swooning past a movie so cavalier with history that it, too, will live in infamy.

- The Patriot:  Amazingly, the loyal farm workers on the plantation were all freemen!  Nosiree, no slaves in the revolutionary South (they were all off fighting for their freedom with the British, presumably).  Apparently you can't have a redcoat in green, even if Tarleton's (oh, right, Tavington's) Legion were green coated loyalists, but you can have Abraham Lincoln's face on a greenback that Gibson's character passes off on a shopkeeper.  About the only things that are accurate in this movie are the flintlock pistols fired at the gallop - and they shouldn't be!

- Braveheart: The noble Lowland Scot recast as a dyed-in-the-woad Highlander who raises an army of mullet headed savages, this movie is among the least deserving ever to win the best picture Oscar.  Biggest howler: William Wallace impregnates the future queen of England, even though the real Isabella of France was 2 years old at the time.  About right for a Mel Gibson movie, however.  The man makes Tom Cruise look completely rational.

- Gods and Generals: A Lost Cause fantasy with an army of overfed, middle aged actors and reenactors that is utterly unwatchable and grinds on for an interminable three hours and thirty-nine minutes, or so I am told because I switched it off long before the end. Ted Turner blows $60 million financing this fiasco of clean limbed, mawkish sentimentality.

- Revolution: I am certain Al Pacino wishes this film would vanish from his filmography.  I swear, it would have been  better history if they had included legions of zombies, and certainly more entertaining.  The final confrontation amid the towering cliffs of Yorktown bears no resemblance whatsoever to tidewater, Virginia, but by they you are passed caring.  Donald Sutherland was in this film and in Kelly's Heroes, which is the more historically accurate movie.  But then, so is Hogan's Heroes.

- Every film ever made about Robin Hood, but especially the most recent BBC series, with Guy of Gisborne wearing what looks like a Drizabone Aussie raincoat, Maid Marion moonlighting as The Green Arrow, and a female Saracen garbed as one of the lads among Robin's handful of Merry Men.  Modern dialog and moralizing about how muslims and christians need to understand each other better must have Mallory turning in his grave.  They killed off Marion in Season II, but Robin has a new wench in Season III, and Holy Shogun, Batman, she fights with a Katana!  Look for Richard the Lion Heart to come riding back on a mastodon.

I am sure you can suggest some other candidates for the pillory.

Companion Pieces: Paired Up History Films

Sometimes an historical epic or period piece that can stand perfectly well on its own takes on added meaning when paired with another film.  Certain movies with cult followings actually received double billings - think Harold and Maude and King of Hearts - while others offer complementary perspectives on significant events and personages when viewed together.  Here are some suggestions for some history films that go rather well together.

Paths of Glory (1957) and All Quiet on the Western Front (1930):  Stanley Kubrick's film underscores the horrors of trench warfare in stark black and white, and the demands of the French high command to make scapegoats of innocent men driven beyond the limits of human endurance.  It parallels the more familiar story told from the German perspective in the classic All Quiet on the Western Front. 

Das Boot (1981) and The Cruel Sea (1953)   I grew up reading The Cruel Sea, and am aware of no other book that so successfully evokes the desperate years of convoy escorts and U-boat warfare during the Battle of the Atlantic.  The movie version is excellent, with Jack Hawkins as the grizzled commander of the doomed HMS Compass Rose.  Das Boot, on the other hand, manages to depict the claustrophopia, desperate fear and vulnerability of the U-boat crews so hauntingly that even one such as I who was weaned on stories of blackout shades and U-boats just off our coast could appreciate that those below the surface might well have felt like the underdogs, especially as the war progressed.

Becket (1964) and The Lion in Winter (1968)  Peter O'toole stars as King Henry II in both films, and manages to bring a fresh interpretation in each performance.  The cast of The Lion in Winter is especially fine, with Anthony Hopkins and Katherine Hepburn in fine fettle.

Breaker Morant (1979) and Gallipoli (1981)  Aussie films that are as much about British notions of class and colonial prejudices as they are about the havoc and moral ambiguity of modern war.  One takes place during the Boer War, and includes one of the most dramatic trial sequences in film (others in this post also share that distinction, including Paths of Glory and especially To Kill a Mockingbird).  The other is about wasted potential and the futility of trying to outrun death in frontal assaults made obsolete by machine guns.

The Vikings (1958) and The War Lord (1965)  These obscure films deserve wider exposure, particularly for their attention to period detail.  Kirk Douglas, Tony Curtis and Ernest Borgnine sail up the fjords in longboats straight from the Osberg ship burials or the Bayeaux tapestry.  As for The War Lord, it is the tapestry itself come to life, kite shields and all, and stars Charlton Heston.

The African Queen (1951) and King Solomon's Mines (1950) Both were filmed in Africa within a year of each other, and both are a feast for the eye.  The trek into the unknown parts of interior East Africa by Quartermain and company takes advantage of the extraordinary scenery, wildlife and cultures of the region, while Bogart's battle with the leeches and running past the guns of the German Askaris and over the falls are epic moments in cinematic history.

The Grapes of Wrath (1940)  and To Kill A Mockingbird (1962)  Both of these films captures different aspects of the American experience around the time of the Depression so cdonvincingly that they have become cultural benchmarks for those times and places.  Whether it is Tom Joad and family's desperate oddysey or the crippling weight of racial and class predjudice that oppresses black and white alike where even an honest man like Atticus cannot make justice prevail, the films take us to some of the hardest places in our past without crushing the faint hope of redemption.

Which other history films go well together?

Top Ten Historical Subjects In Dire Need of 1st Class Treatment on Film

Any Top Ten List is inherently biased from the start, and this one is loaded with assumptions even before I toss out my candidates for your review.  There are certainly films which treat complex and significant historical subject matter well: that is, with attention to period detail, historical context, well-crafted dialog, compelling characters, skillful direction and a plot that deftly carries the story. 

Those that get full marks in all of these dimensions are rare, indeed, while those that bungle them are simply unwatchable.  Some - Dances With Wolves, say - succeed in many respects yet fall victim to presentism and the intrusion of the politics and social attitudes of the present day.  This can make for a moving theatrical experience, but falls short of a faithful depiction of the sensibilities of the past.

Given that the interests of modern audiences have to dovetail with the interests of Hollywood film producers, there are some historical periods and subjects which, for better or worse, make their way to the large and small screens, and others which do not.  It helps if the screenplay is an adaptation from a wildly successful novel set in a period setting, or a noted work of popular history, but even then you may end up with something like the overwrought Gods and Generals or a brilliant production of one of Jane Austen's novels which critics and scholars adore yet nobody else watches.

There are many moments in history and fascinating individuals who deserve 1st class treatment on film but, so far as I am aware, have yet to receive it. Your list is bound to be different than mine, but here is what I would love to see done well on film:

• Anything set in the American Southwest prior to the Texas Republic.  We remember the Alamo, but seem to ignore the centuries of history that came before.  De Soto, Coronado, The Pueblo Revolt of 1680, all would be marvelous subjects.  Such movies do not get made, I suspect, because they are painful reminders of the conquest and suppression of indigenous peoples and are prone to oversimplification by screenwriters.

• King Philip's War.  More than half the towns in New England were attacked, more than 15% of all the native peoples in the region were killed in the bloodiest conflict of the 17th century in English North America.  There have been some excellent scholarly treatments in recent years, but nothing by Hollywood.

• There are several figures from our Revolutionary history who would make excellent movie subjects.   Nathaniel Greene, or Benjamen Tallmadge and his whaleboat raiders, come first to mind.  It would also be refreshing to see the Saratoga Campaign, complete with Jenny McCrea and Benedict Arnold and Gentleman Johny Burgoyne, given its due on film.

• The wreck of the whaleship Essex.  The Heart of the Seawould be a superb starting place.  Moby Dick ends with Ishmael clinging to Queequeeg's coffin.  The crew of the Essex had far more horrors ahead of them after their ship, which was Melville's inspiration, was rammed by the whale.

• Cheng I Sao "Wife of Cheng", the most successful pirate of all time, was a chinese woman who commanded a fleet of more than 1,500 ships and 80,000 men in the early 1800s.

• Germany's Paul Emil von Lettow-Vorbeck, the Lt. Colonel whose East Africa command remained undefeated throughout WWI and managed to divert British forces from the western front while fighting a guerrilla campaign across numerous colonies.  Along those same lines, a grand film could be made of Count Felix von Luckner's wooden, three masted bark that became the WWI commerce raider the Seeadlerthat captures 16 vessels before the end.  Lowell Thomas wrote "Count Felix Von Luckner - The Sea Devil", which could be the basis for the screenplay.

• A film centered around the careers and conflicts of Henry Clay, John C. Calhoun and Daniel Webster.  They were the most important American politicians of their generation, and the strongest voices for their respective regions during the first half of the 19th century.

• Edith Wilson, the first lady who acted for her husband Woodrow after his debilitating stroke.

• Harry Truman.  But not based solely on the superb book by McCullough.  I would love to see it draw heavily from Harry Truman's Excellent Adventure; the True Story of a Great American Road Trip. 

• The Morro Castle disaster.  A Depression-era booze cruise gone horribly wrong with the captain dead, a raging storm and the ship afire off New Jersey.

Those would be my suggestions for Hollywood to do and do right.  What about yours?