Halleck: Lincoln’s Chief of Staff (1962) by Stephen E. Ambrose

Henry Halleck is probably the most consequential Civil War general that you’ve never heard of. In this slender 1962 biography by famed historian Stephen Ambrose, Halleck emerges from the shadows to take his rightful place in the pantheon of Union war generals.

Halleck graduated third in his West Point class of 1839 and was immediately assigned to travel Europe to study modern warfare. The product of the trip was his book “Elements of Military Art & Science,” which was basically a history of the Napoleonic Wars told along the lines of French military theorist Antoine-Henri Jomini. Halleck would become known for his strict adherence to Jominian tactics and strategy. He also earned the colorful sobriquet “Old Brains.”

After retiring from the Army in 1854, Halleck settled in California, earning a small fortune as a lawyer and miner before the outbreak of the Civil War. He would first be stationed in the western theater of operations. Ambrose writes that Halleck’s obstinate adherence to basic Jominian principles, such as concentration of force, use of interior lines and the establishment of a strong base of supplies, thwarted early union attempts to go on the offensive in the west. His diffidence made General George McClellan appear aggressive.

Halleck saw the strategic rail terminus of Corinth, Mississippi as the decisive point in his theater of command and resolved to fight his culminating battle of annihilation there, being personally in command. The siege of Corinth was perhaps the best example of Jominian tactics in practice in the entire Civil War. “Halleck was the most successful departmental commander in the war,” Ambrose writes. He brought “order, system, and firmness” to the west; he was, in short, an exceptional manager of war. On July 11, 1862, Lincoln made Halleck general-in-chief, commander of all land forces in the United States.

Halleck would bring his Jominian philosophy to the east, with his focus on efficient, centralized operations and a concentration on vital points. In classic pursuit of those Jominian principles, soon after taking overall command Halleck relentlessly pressed McClellan to join with Pope around Manassas. Not pleased with having a former subordinate as a superior, McClellan wavered in moving men from under his command and Pope was crushed at the Battle of Second Manassas in late August 1862. Halleck was dismayed but nevertheless continued to keep a light hand on the reigns of command. In his own words, “I have always, whenever it was possible avoiding giving positive instructions to the commanding generals … leaving them the exercise of their own judgment, while giving them my opinion and advice.”

Ambrose shows that Halleck’s problems stemmed from his awkward position and particular personality. He was a professional soldier with an antipathy for politicians, yet was forced to operate in the highly politicized environment of Washington DC. Likewise, although he was a soldier, he was not a commander, nor a leader of men, thus respect from his fellow officers was slight. His real contribution to the Union cause was in organization and administration. Halleck worked tirelessly to reform the army policies that negatively affected its efficiency, particularly the undue influence of politicians in appointing officers and controlling volunteer regiments. In the end, Ambrose says, Halleck did more than anyone to forge the Union Army.

By 1863, Halleck was cognizant of the fact that a war of annihilation had arrived – the antithesis of Jominian warfare. Nevertheless, the siege of Vicksburg that year was textbook Jomini: total concentration of force and the methodical capture of a strategic place. “Halleck’s actions showed the tenacity of Jomini’s influence upon his thinking and his personal commitment to order and system.” He also appreciated the great difference between the nature of the war in the east versus the west. The west was a theater where traditional Jominian principles of capturing cities with a concentrated army moving from one central supply base and operating on interior lines made sense. The relatively small size and close proximity of the two capitals made these principles moot in the eastern theater. Halleck recognized that targeting Lee’s army and not Richmond should be the main objective in the east.

In the spring of 1864, Halleck was made chief of staff of the Army, a position that General Hooker claimed, was “very much like a fellow marrying a woman with the understanding that he should not sleep with her.” However, the arrangement actually leveraged the Union’s strengths, according to Ambrose. Halleck remained in Washington as the supreme administrator, and also assumed the role of military liaison between Lincoln and Grant, and all the other departmental commanders. Old Brains adroitly kept all the various parts of the Union war machine informed of the movements of the other and kept the various armies well stocked with supplies. “He was,” Ambrose writes, “the manager of the Northern effort – the man who brought about the professionalization of the army, supplied it, gave it rules and regulations while serving as the military liaison with the civilian government.” It may have been less glamorous than battlefield victories, but it was just as important.

By the end of the war, Halleck, who Ambrose called “Jomini’s High Priest in America,” began to embrace a war of annihilation more in line with the theories of Carl von Clausewitz. Although this type of warfare at first blush seemed to be the antithesis of Jominian thought, Ambrose argues that it only really deviates from the basic tenets in one key feature: the destruction of private property. Halleck still proposed the concentration of force, operating from a fixed base of supply, concentrating on places and not armies, operating along interior lines, and fighting battles of maneuver. In that sense, Sherman’s “march to the sea” is very similar to previous campaigns that were influenced directly by Jominian principles, most notably Winfield Scott’s Vera Cruz campaign during the Mexican-American War.

After the war, despite all the criticism heaped upon him, Halleck remained in the Army. He died after a sudden illness in January 1872 at age 57. No one seemed to notice. Ambrose argues that the root cause of Halleck’s derision stems from the fact that people failed to appreciate his place and unique contribution; he wasn’t a commander, he was a military administrative genius. “Politically, socially, economically, and militarily, centralization had become institutionalized; Halleck had done his share in making that result possible.”