Hollywood has a penchant for reworking history to conform to artistry, and few periods in American history have been as "romanticized, eulogized and hopelessly distorted through film as the Civil War," a new book by Bruce Chadwick contends.
Chadwick, who lectures at Rutgers on the history of film, has written a highly
readable, annotated study of how Hollywood has altered the reality of the
confrontation between the Union and the Confederacy, idealized the South,
whitewashed slavery and vilified African-Americans.

Bruce chadwick reviewed hundreds of fims about the Civil War
Photo by Roy Groething/Jersey Pictures, Inc.
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The book, "The Reel Civil War: Mythmaking in American Film" (Alfred A.
Knopf), traces the origins of these Southern stereotypes from their beginnings in
the 1830s through the 20th century.
First novelists, then the theater and, later, the fledgling movie industry
presented a picture of the South as "moonlight and magnolias ... trees dripping
with Spanish moss, gentlemen drinking mint juleps on the veranda, women
prettifying themselves for the ball and countless soldiers becoming instant
heroes," writes Chadwick, who also teaches journalism at New Jersey City
University.
More movies have been produced about the Civil War than any other aspect
of American history, the author points out. From "Uncle Tom's Cabin" through
"Birth of a Nation" and "Gone with the Wind" to later films such as "Glory," film
studios have released more than 800 silent and sound pictures about the
conflict.
More than 600 of these date from the silent era, roughly 1908 to 1916, the
years surrounding the 50th anniversary of the war. Most are one- or two-reel
films with the major exception of "Birth of a Nation," which has been regarded as
both the greatest silent picture ever made and the most infamous.
The book asserts that most of these films contain distortions, all from the
moonlight and magnolias school, that came to be accepted as fact by later
filmmakers: Confederate soldiers are always heroic underdogs; abolitionists are
to blame for the war; slaves are helpful Mammies, joyful cotton pickers or
tap-dancing entertainers; and Southerners are all wealthy plantation owners.
Furthermore, these movies always end with both sides reconciling and
returning to a united country, even though "the war caused political and cultural
strife that lasted for generations and led to the rise of the Klu Klux Klan, a
crippled Southern economy, Jim Crow laws and strident segregation," says
Chadwick, who earned his doctorate in history from Rutgers in 1999.
"This cultural cleansing and revising seemed necessary to many in order to
unite a nation fractured by a four-year conflict that saw the deaths of more than
620,000 American soldiers," the author writes. The war had to be seen in the
"rearview mirror of history" as a conflict not started by anyone and having no
winners or losers -- just a tragic struggle in which both sides fought gallantly.
Chadwick presumes that most filmmakers believed they were telling the truth
and offering honest characterizations. "Certainly, everything in their schools,
politics and culture in the second half of the 19th century was telling them these
stereotypes were the truth."
Hollywood producers and directors deliberately forgot about slavery's darker
side -- the abuse and murder of African-Americans, the sale of family members
-- and contended that slaves were content with their lot. This blatant
misrepresentation in film, the most powerful medium of all, "made any true
understanding of real history nearly impossible and was one of the causes of the
racial strife that exists in America to this day," Chadwick maintains.
The most offensive film, according to Chadwick, was "Birth of a Nation," a
12-reel, three-hour feature, based on a Civil War novel, "The Clansman," by
Thomas Dixon. Chadwick describes "Birth of a Nation" as "the best and worst
silent movie of all time, a film that would, indeed, live forever -- in ignominy."
D. W. Griffith's film "used and improved on every device of the Civil War silent film genre designed to reunify North and South and forge a new
America," notes Chadwick. But it also "egregiously slandered American blacks and helped to create a racial divide that would last for generations."
The film, like the novel on which it is based, depicts blacks during the war and
in Reconstruction as rapists, thugs and murderers, and, at the same time, glorifies the Ku Klux Klan.
Chadwick says the reporters of the day who wrote about the film "thought it
was the greatest film ever made and said so, believing Griffith's version of
Reconstruction because everything that preceded it in literature, history and
theater had programmed them to accept that view of the Old South."
Chadwick discusses this landmark film at length and also analyzes other
cinematic treatments in chapters devoted to "Gone with the Wind," Abe Lincoln
in Hollywood, African-Americans from Sambo to Mammy, and the Civil War in
Western movies.
It was not until the post-civil rights era of the 1970s that there occurred a
radical departure from the deeply entrenched myths concerning the American
19th century, Chadwick points out. He discusses such latter-day films as "Roots"
(1977), the TV miniseries that "became the foundation for numerous fresh
analyses of slavery, the war and the war's major figures," and "Glory" (1989), an
account of the heroism of the all-black 54th Massachusetts Regiment that serves
as a "constant reminder that black people died for their country, too."
But these more accurate portrayals did not emerge "until seven long decades
after the very first silent Civil War films," Chadwick says. Until then, the screen's
version of the war "was founded soundly upon myth, the myth of another land
and another people, but the kind of people Americans wanted themselves to be."