‘Listening for the Echoes of Distant Voices’

Civil War Memoirs ~ A Lost Oral History?

T.R.Wheeley

There is perhaps a growing realisation within the academic world, and the population at large, that oral history – the remembering of the past by those who lived through it – occupies a worthy place in the study of history. Through the conscious realisation that time is passing, made doubly obvious by the passing of the 20th century, the millennium, and the Jubilee celebrations to be held this year, it seems to highlight the importance of oral history – nothing evokes memory more than an anniversary. With the hundredth anniversary of the Great War approaching, and the reality that slowly the veterans are disappearing, it is evident just by observing articles and programmes in the media that society is trying desperately to ‘hear’ (and hopefully learn from) the recollections of vanishing generations. It is a cold and calculated comprehension that within a few years we will have lost the voices of the people who lived through the great events of the past – they and their memories will be lost forever.

In terms of the civil war, this time has already passed, and thus oral history of the civil war in its true sense can never be a reality. Technology dictated that the pen was the only way in which those people who lived through the war could record their memories (excepting of course generational memory and oral descent). Hence, in a very real sense, civil war memoirs are the only remaining vestiges of a lost oral history. Are we not lucky therefore that there is this form of recollection remaining? Any historian always endeavours to be critical of his sources, and it is with this critical outlook that hopefully the living-historian is ready to accept the factual usefulness of written accounts in his research. However, is this the limit of the usefulness of written-memory? Can we learn something other than factual detail? Hidden in that detail is there something deeper that will further our knowledge of the events, of the individual and ambience of the period? This article, as well as hopefully stimulating further response to these themes, aims to establish that in this case, written memory is the ‘echo’ of the lost oral history of the civil war, and as such, it can be employed as more than merely a factual source.

In pursuing written memoirs of the civil war as oral history, one instantly comes across definite constraints. However does this rule out our use of them as a lost oral history? As living-historians, we are in a sense oral historians, listening for voices which are lost to the passage of time. Indeed, this highlights a most basic constraint in trying to employ it as an oral history – the loss of the voices to time means that they can no longer convey "all the distinctive qualities of oral rather than written communication" – humour, dialect, sarcasm for example. Ultimately, as Paul Thompson points out in his compelling book on oral history, by reading their memories from paper, we lose some of the impact. Thus one important element of oral history is lost in terms of the written memory of civil war participants – we simply cannot listen to their voices. Does this mean therefore that atmosphere is lost? Simply, no. Letters and diaries for example, which often form the basis of civil war memoirs, are themselves a form of social expression. A.J.P. Taylor, cynical of oral history in its very concept, conceded that " ‘Written memoirs are a form of oral history [although in his view they were] set down to confuse the historian’", however even he admitted that they were useful for creating the historical ‘atmosphere’. Thus, every time we read the pages of the diaries, memoirs, recollections of those soldiers, we should look not only for the factual knowledge, but for something deeper. We should listen for the voices that their pens tried to capture.

As a form of social expression however, memoirs are themselves subject to bias. The basis of which arises in that they were created for a particular audience. This is also often compounded by their foundation upon the participants’ war diaries and letters and the bias which these articles contained. As with any piece of historical source material, they exist and are created for a social meaning: "Neither contemporary nor historical evidence is a direct reflection of physical facts or behaviour. Facts and events are reported in a way which gives them social meaning." Furthermore, the historian is not exposed to these memoirs by some form of random accident, "there was a social purpose behind both their original creation and their subsequent preservation. Historians who treat such finds as innocent deposits [of information]… simply invite deception." This however, should in no way discourage the living historian from using these memoirs as repositories of fact. Rather, it should re-iterate the basic skill of the historian to analyse and critically assess his source material. At the same time, this also opens up a further avenue for the use of civil war memoirs as a lost oral history – an avenue which is perhaps too readily ignored. An avenue of social exploration, of why the authors held these views, of how it was reflective of their society, in essence it can return us from the grandeur of literary history and return us "to the awkwardly individual human lives which are its basis." As well as providing nuggets of information and fact (such as direct descriptions of how a soldier packed his knapsack for example), it can build us a picture and create the ambience of the world in which they lived – it is a small part of this world, which we, as living historians are trying to recreate. But how?

We can use civil war memoirs to help us learn about these supposedly hidden themes of civil war life by interpreting them as if they were indeed oral history. Granted, in doing this we are hampered in so much as communication can only be one way – we lack the ability to cross question or direct the soldier or ask them to expand upon certain points of interest – alas, this is the sad reality of time. We can, however, interpret what we read in their memories as if it were an oral interview. Interviews in themselves are important in establishing the context and ambience in which events are set. In particular we should assert ourselves to look for the ‘structure’ which is hidden in the portrayal of ‘fact’, in the same manner as we would look for one in an oral interview. That is, "to analyse and grasp the underlying structure of consciousness… to seek the vision of history articulated in an interview."

In oral history interviews, the interviewee creates a structure around which their memories will be recalled and portrayed – sometimes this is a conscious construction, other times it is subconscious. Either way, the main thrust of what they wish to talk about is strong, and an interviewer can rarely shake them from the theme around which their memories will be arranged – or as Judy Giles puts it in her article on working class women during the interwar years, "Oral life stories are not, of course, unmediated accounts of a remembered past. Memory selects, omits and distorts; memory also draws on the material of an inherited culture to construct individual consciousness and may make use of myth and archetype, idealisation and demonisation, to shape and order experience." This must also be true of written memory – only perhaps in writing down these memories, aided by the ability to go over what has been remembered and written, the author can often strengthen the structuring of his memories even further, more so perhaps than if it were an oral recollection. (This more definite structure may even make the memoir a more trustworthy source of reliable fact). This structure inevitably leads us not into an ahistorical myth, but into the ideological consciousness of the civil war soldier, which grew from the physical occurrences that he experienced. Thus "subjective memory and historical fact can coexist", and their interaction can be "illuminating for understanding how actors perceived their roles in the past and how they constructed their understanding of events, mores and conventions." In effect, we can gain an insight into what the individual really thought, the opinion which he does not openly talk about. By looking at his structure of written memory, we can do the same thing that we would do with oral memory – ‘read between the lines’.

Many historians have asserted that a common tendency in oral history is for the interviewee to construct as part of their structure a binary opposition. This often takes the form of the dichotomy between past and present, then and now, the good old days and the unfortunate present and deplorable future, particularly in regards to the defeated, in this case, the confederate veteran. Indeed, it is possible to identify such oppositions within the soldiers’ written narratives. "Everyday realities of squalor, poverty and conflict are transformed and diluted into the ‘good old days’ ". Far from being ignored as mere nostalgia, this binary opposition can be revealing in itself. Firstly, the author/interviewee feels the need to highlight the hardships of the old days, for this in itself is a form of self-congratulation that they made it through the hardships, it acts as a testament to their worthiness to hold a position in history. Yet, in terms of the civil war soldier this can undermine their justification for fighting and the values by which they conducted their lives, particularly if they were on the losing side. Thus the dilution of the hardship into an overall feeling of the ‘good-old days’ is necessary for them in a defence of their earlier life – it cannot have all been in vain. This dichotomy between ‘now and then’, can be important in another way, for it can identify the structuring of memory as a process of rise and decline. ‘Then’ embodies the height of the cycle, and ‘now’ embodies the decline (perhaps even connected with themes of mortality?). Ronald Grele points out that in adopting this as their theme, they often give answers to questions which are not asked. This is but one example of how the academic and living historian can gain deeper insight into the world of the civil war soldier by interpreting their written memory as an oral history.

Furthermore, interpretation of written civil war memory as a lost oral history can be important in the ‘democratisation’ of history. By interpreting it as such, "what seems beyond doubt is that relatively obscure people do create their own history, and they do so within their own conceptions of its value and use in the culture." Sam Watkins for example is often reminding us throughout Co. Aitch that his memoirs are not intended as the grand history of the war, but rather as his recollections in terms of the value that he perceives them to have. Similarly, H.M. Wharton (a confederate veteran) in his compilation of War songs and poems of the Southern Confederacy makes clear that he understands his recollections to provide a link with the past and the history of the people of his native south, whilst bolstering the ties of union in the post-civil war states. That people create their own history without formal instruction of how they should remember and view their lives "by the agencies of the larger culture" (government for example), simply goes to show that the culture/experience from which they emerged is worthy of note and historical attention. Paul Thompson concurs, for "there can be no doubt that this should make for a more realistic reconstruction of the past… The military and naval historian can look beyond command-level strategy and equipment to the conditions, recreations and morale of other ranks and the lower deck… History becomes to put it simply, more democratic…[thus] The reconstruction of history itself becomes a much more widely collaborative process, in which non-professionals must play a critical part. By giving a central place in its writing and presentation to people of all kinds, history gains immensely."

This article has looked to establish that in the absence of a ‘real’ oral history of the civil war, the written memories of its participants can provide us with almost the same thing. Yes, the constraints of time have ensured that certain attributes of spoken history are lost, however, this does not negate our treatment of written memory as if it were oral history. Indeed, I believe this article has demonstrated that in treating memoirs as a lost oral history, we can gain a much deeper insight into the life, motivations and ambience of the civil war participants. As living historians this can therefore offer us a great source, not just of factual detail, but of the mind-set of those people whom we are trying to re-enact. This breathing of life into the history of the civil war should therefore excite us. In a very real sense, we should try to listen for the lost oral history of the civil war every time we read from the pages of the memoirs. Perhaps in treating them as an oral history we will be able to hear the ‘echoes’ of those lost voices which the pens tried so hard to capture.  


References:

Giles ‘ "Playing hard to get": working-class women, sexuality and respectability in Britain, 1918-40"’ in Ed. Bessel The Oral History Project – Offprints collection Open University, Milton Keynes 1993

Grele ‘Listen to their voices’ in Ed. Bessel The Oral History Project – Offprints collection Open University, Milton Keynes 1993

Thompson The Voice of the past: Oral history (Third Edition) Oxford, 2000

 


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