“Absolutism and Society in Seventeenth-Century France: State Power and Provincial Aristocracy in Languedoc”, by William Beik

396 pages, Cambridge University Press, ISBN-13: 978-0521367820

Absolutism and Society in Seventeenth-Century France: State Power and Provincial Aristocracy in Languedoc by William Beik is often considered the foundational text of a historiographical movement called “Provincial Revisionism”. Nearly 30 years ago, historians began to question the reality of an “Absolutist” state in 17^th Century France; how was Louis XIV able to repress the power of the same nobility who had previously caused Mazarin and Richelieu before him so much difficulty? According to some historians, the answer was not in Louis XIV’s ability to “lure [the nobility] to Versailles and tantalize them with status shorn of power”, but instead it was in the relationship negotiated between the regional aristocracy and the crown. Known as “Provincial Revisionism” for the numerous case studies of specific French provinces – such as Brittany, Languedoc, and Normandy which support this argument – this view of French absolutism stresses the “compromises, negotiations, and the sharing of resources” that occurred between the provincial elite and the monarch.

In this study, Beik argues that Louis XIV “placated formerly rebellious provincial elites by providing them with ideological support, by sharing privileged tax flows with them, and by consulting them about certain governmental projects which reflected favorably on their reputation for magnificence.” Absolutism and Society spawned a plethora of further provincial case studies to determine if there were similarities in other pays d'état, or if the Languedoc was merely an exception to a rule. What resulted was an entire school of thought that centered on the idea of collaboration between Louis XIV and his nobility.

“Patriarch: George Washington and the New American Nation”, by Richard Norton Smith

424 pages, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, ISBN-13: 978-0395524428

Revered but remote, George Washington rarely evokes passions rendered Lincoln, Jefferson, or even FDR. Perhaps he did his job too well; after all, he was the first executive of a radical experiment, daily vulnerable to foreign and domestic threats that could easily foreclose a young republic. Some contemporaries compared him to a king, but he helped sever monarchical bonds (English and French) and stepped down (with relief) after two terms. He became the rock that sustained a new nation, but remains to many an ephemeral legend shrouded in patriotic cliches.

This volume exposes the man (and the myth) in a broad chronicle of Washington’s life during his eight-year Presidency and his almost three years afterward to his death (his youth is also briefly related). He navigated many trials (nationalization of state debt, capital location, the Whiskey Rebellion, Jay’s Treaty, yellow fever, primitive medicine, slavery, native nations, the French Revolution, British and Spanish relations, etc.), but proved a consummate pragmatist irrevocably focused on national self-interest. Everything he did (as he knew at the time) became precedent and the republic survived. In addition to politics, we get pieces that tell us how Washington felt about many other subjects, such as the building of what would become Washington D.C. The narrative is sometimes interrupted by small stories; for example, who dined with Washington one evening and who argued with whom. I learned to regard these breaks as information about who was in his larger circle and what was considered fair dinner conversation in his company.

There are some surprises on the personal side: a lack of formal schooling, a happy (childless) marriage, a sociability that delighted in attending dances but insisted on maintaining formal distance, renowned horsemanship, a preference for agriculture, a modesty that eschewed salaries (though accepted expense), dental torment, and natural hair (he never wore a wig, despite portraits). I felt that the author drives to two conclusions. One is in the first half of chapter 13, An Honorable Discharge: here the author explains the significance of Washington’s Farewell Address in terms of the man, the country he fought to create, and the Constitution he helped create and to which he yielded as President. This is worth all the reading that came before. The second conclusion is the Epilogue in which the author tries to redress the common myth of Washington as the cold icon on the dollar bill; his famous reserve was more likely the cautious deliberation of a self-educated man. Like Lincoln, he proved more sagacious than elite subordinates. His pragmatism (when followed) has served us and the world well throughout subsequent history.

By the end, the author convinced me of Washington’s greatness as the man who led the new republic into fairly using its new Constitution. (I think we should be thankful he considered farming Mount Vernon more rewarding than political leadership). Washington was the rarest of military heroes – he chose to be a visionary guardian of the new country instead of riding his reputation into a dictatorship. Young America was very fortunate.

“The Roman War Machine” by John Peddie

Sutton Publishing Ltd, 224 pages, ISBN-13: 978-0750906739

What I absolutely loved about this book is the details it went into: it had charts about how far the various missile weapons reached; talked how signals were passed along; spoke how much food would need to be brought along; discussed how many baggage carts, wagons, or mules needed to carry supplies; and the one particular “Why?” that’s always stumped me: why a Roman army could only move about 10-12 miles a day (the answer: the column was so long – when baggage carts, etc., were included – that the first part of the column would be reaching the new camp and starting to set up before the last of the column was even leaving the old camp). These were just the types of numbers I was looking for, so I consider this book a jewel since I haven't found them elsewhere.

Its details such as these that proves that Mr. Peddie knows his subject, is comfortable with the sources he sites, has an eye for detail. Essentially Peddie illuminates one aspect of the Roman Army in each chapter, ranging from the Roman equivalent of staff officers, battlefield communications, marching camp techniques, siege warfare, equipment, and other points. Some of the more interesting contents are his rebuffs of what many other military historians have perceived as weaknesses or want in the Roman Army. He clearly points out how everything served a valuable purpose in the Roman Army and what many have assumed were missing were actually there in one form or another. He also draws surprising similarities between the British campaign in Burma during WWII and the Roman way of war.

Except for the fact I couldn't read this book at night because it put me to sleep, it actually was a good, informative work. Some of the information wasn't relevant to my search for answers, but that same information might be exactly what others are looking for. All in all a most satisfying and clear read, though perhaps he digresses a bit too much on some occasions.