Eric L. McKitrick (1919–2002)

This tome won the Bancroft Prize, and not undeservedly. It is full of information, has a compelling narrative thread and gives a great deal of insight into the ideologies and prejudices of the first generation of American politicians. Nonetheless, a few caveats are in order.

First, the book is less a history of the first dozen years of the Republic than an account of how a limited number of key figures perceived and reacted to events. The viewpoint is that of Washington, Adams, Jefferson, Hamilton and men of similar mettle, stooping as low as, say, Benjamin Bache, but never to the level of merchants, tradesmen, artisans or farmers, much less women or slaves. Moreover, the elite perspective is overlaid with heavy psychologizing. Except for the rather Olympian Washington, all of the great men of the era are portrayed in a manner that makes them sound like excitable high schoolers, driven more by personal animosity and subliminal fears than by thought-out principles. This approach makes everyone seem a little bit crazed and leads to patronizing conclusions based on knowledge of a future that was hidden from the actors.

Second, and complementary to the preceding, the subject is high politics and almost nothing else. There is a little about economics save at points where prosperity or recession bore with especial weight on political fortunes. About culture, the authors' observations are bland or silly, as when they devote a number of pages to how American literature might have been improved by the selection of New York City as the national capital. About social relations, religion, law, science and so on, there is scarcely a word. I don't blame the authors for their choice of subjects, but readers who want something different should be warned.

Third, even within the realm of politics, much is left out. Congress is a shadowy backdrop to Presidential decision making and Cabinet intrigues. Relations with England and France are treated quite fully, but the rest of the world might as well not exist. The Pinckney Treaty with Spain comes in as an appendage to the Jay Treaty. Holland is mentioned only because an attack on Alexander Hamilton misunderstood the manner in which he had floated a loan there, and because a couple of American ministers to the Hague played important roles in negotiations with France. There are passing allusions to the Barbary States, with whom we would soon be at war.

Finally, the writing is verbose and digressive, striving to be magisterial but often no better than sententious. Can you think of any reason why the description of the founding of the District of Columbia should be interrupted by a long discourse on how Peter the Great built and peopled St. Petersburg? Is a history that concludes (rather abruptly) with Thomas Jefferson's inaugural address usefully embellished with reflections on Franco-American relations in the 19th and 20th Centuries?

The Age of Federalism fills an important historical niche. It is not, however, as comprehensive and definitive as its bulk might suggest.… (altro)