Rebecca has replied to my previous entry on her own blog, Historianess:
Last fall, I taught a course on the American Revolution. Now I know aspects of the Revolution very well; I’ve read extensively in issues leading up to the Revolution, in great debates regarding the intellectual origins of the Revolution, in social issues and outcomes of the Revolution, in constitutional issues before, during, and after the Revolution, in the role of slavery, slaves, and free blacks in the Revolution, the participation of Indians on both sides of the conflict, the role of women, the Revolution’s Atlantic aspects, and its effects on France, Haiti, and Spanish America. So, I know a lot about the Revolution.
But of course the Revolution was also a war. You’ll note that my areas of expertise on the Revolution don’t include the war. So, I found myself reading up. I ended up assigning the memoirs of Joseph Plumb Martin as well as the relevant chapters in Middlekauff’s The Glorious Cause — the former I intended as a look at the experiences of an ordinary soldier and the latter as a detailed discussion of various campaigns and battles. It was difficult, to say the least, and I had some students who styled themselves experts on military history (these guys knew things like the sizes of guns and the types of uniforms). So I finally had to email the good Professor Grimsley and ask about some of the details.
As I recall, the principal issue was this. Rebecca was discussing British Gen. “Gentleman Johnny” Burgoyne’s invasion from Canada in 1777 and his subsequent battles against Gens. Philip Schuyler and Horatio Gates. She spoke in terms of the battles of Freeman’s Farm and Bemis Heights as preludes to the surrender at Saratoga. One student, however, said in a snarky tone of voice (in my experience, any comment of this sort is delivered in a snarky tone of voice) that all the engagements between September 19 and October 17, 1777, are known collectively as the “battle of Saratoga.” I found this memorable because usually the complaints of military history buffs run the other way; i.e., Rebecca would have said “battle of Saratoga” and the student would have objected that there was no battle of Saratoga, but rather the battles of Freeman’s Farm and Bemis Heights.
Anyway, Rebecca wondered if somehow she’d stepped in it: Perhaps military historians really did speak in terms of a single “battle of Saratoga.” She emailed me. I replied that while it was true many military historians lump Freeman’s Farm, Bemis Heights, and the Saratoga surrender together as “Saratoga,” her division of them into discrete developments made a lot of sense — particularly since she was actually trying to explain the campaign rather than to merely invoke the campaign as the catalyst for the American alliance with France.
In other words, Rebecca actually had a good grasp of the Saratoga campaign. But like the Scarecrow, who didn’t realize he had a brain, Rebecca didn’t realize she actually knew some military history. I have had similar experiences when challenged about matters in other fields. I check, and usually discover that I am on reasonably firm ground. (Except when I’m not.)
This led to a dialogue on why professional historians seem to know so little military history. I suggested to Professor Grimsley that I wasn’t 1) willfully ignorant, or 2) hostile towards military history. My own training is in social and cultural history, with a generous dab of intellectual and political history. Military history just never came up in my graduate training and now that I’m teaching, military history hangs around my neck like an albatross.
Professor Grimsley has now asked me some questions about how a trained historian who is largely unfamiliar with problems and issues in military history might learn:
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Actually, it might have been the other way around–I think I referred to generally “the Saratoga campaign” while breaking it down into discrete parts starting with Burgoyne’s descent from Canada down Lake Champlain…I *did* make the point that a number of engagements culminated in Burgoyne’s surrender at Saratoga on 17 October 1777, but my student really wanted to do away with the label Saratoga and discuss each small enagement in minute detail. Which I was trying to avoid, because I wanted students with no familiarity with the campaign of 1777 at all to come to some understanding about why Burgoyne lost, and why this victory was so important for the French alliance. We also talked quite a bit about the threat irregular forces played to the British throughout the spring and summer of 1777. But I was really, really worried that I’d stepped on it by generalizing it all as “Saratoga.” Mark assured me I wasn’t nuts!
Never mind, Mark! A quick look at my original email to you reveals that you remember the exchange better than I do.
There were so many times I faced this kind of situation while talking about the war I’ve lost track of them…
I have run across this problem in giving tours, as well: There is often going to be someone who knows more of the details about a given aspect than you do.
If so asked or corrected while doing a tour, I freely admit I don’t know and move on.
Moving on is harder to do in a classroom. Like Mark, I do find it ironic that Rebecca was called out for *failing* to over-simplify, usually it is very much the other way.
I think any historian who is going to teach a comprehensive course on something like the Revolution is going to have to gain a passing familiarity with the military stuff, for just this reason – you are going to need the tools to discuss such moments intelligently.
I also agree that – as much as I love them – the military details are often the least important aspects of something like the Revolution. But in classroom discussions like that above, knowing those details (or at least enough of them) will give you a chance to integrate the other stuff.
Of course, when I am on a tour as just a tourist, and I spot a mistake, I shut up.:) I don’t want to look snarky in front of everyone else.:)
Generally speaking, in classroom settings no one tells me outright that I’m wrong. Instead a query is phrased like this: “You say X. Isn’t it true that the answer is Y?” On such occasions I tell them I don’t know or I’ve never heard that, and then ask them to please look it up and let me know for sure. They usually seem to enjoy doing so, and it enables me to move on with the class. (More often than not, I also wind up learning something.)
In the instance Rebecca described, I suspect there was another issue at work: she’s female, and her snarky student was probably male. I’d be curious to know for sure.
Yes, the student was male. The course was interesting from a gender perspective because 75% of the class was male.