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The Fate of Liberty: Abraham Lincoln and Civil Liberties
Abraham Lincoln was known as the Great Emancipator, but he was also the only president to suspend the writ of habeas corpus. In fact, Lincoln’s record on the Constitution and civil liberties has fueled more than a century of debate—from charges that he singled out Democrats for harrassment to his depiction as an absolute dictator. Mark E. Neely, Jr.’s Pulitzer Prize-winning history wades straight into the controversy, exploring the whole range of Lincoln’s constitutional polices, as well as showing just who was jailed and why.
According to Neely, Lincoln’s suspension of habeas corpus was a well-intentioned response to a floodtide of unforeseen events: the direct threat to Washington as Maryland flirted with secession, disintegrating public order in the border states, contraband trade with the South, corruption among army contractors, and the outcry against the first military draft in U.S. history. Drawing on letters from prisoners, records from military courts and federal prisons, as well as memoirs and archives, Neely paints a vivid picture of how Lincoln responded to these problems, how his policies were actually executed, and the virulent debates that followed. Lincoln emerges from this account with his legendary statesmanship intact—mindful of political realities, prone to temper the sentences of military courts, and more concerned with prosecuting the war effectively than with persecuting his opponents.
Neely also explores abuses of power under a regime of martial law: the routine torture of suspected deserters, widespread anti-Semitism among Union generals and officials,and the common practice of seizing civilian hostages. He finds that though the system of justice was flawed, it suffered less from merciless zeal or political partisanship than from inefficiency and the complexities of modern war.
“A major contribution, both to Lincoln literature and to the history of the Civil War.”
—Don E. Fehrenbacher, author of The Dred Scott Case
“This is a brilliant book. Mark Neely has brought to his study of the most bitterly contested aspect of Abraham Lincoln’s presidency his own distinctive blend of scholarship, story-telling, and plain common sense.”
—Geoffrey C. Ward, coauthor of The Civil War (with Ken and Ric Burns)
“This, the most original book about Lincoln in many a year, gives for the first time a true and adequate account of his policies in regard to civil liberties.
—Richard Nelson Current, author of Lincoln’s Loyalists
278 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1991
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About the author
Mark E. Neely Jr.
24 books10 followersMark E. Neely, Jr. is an American historian best known as an authority on the U.S. Civil War in general and Abraham Lincoln in particular. He won a Pulitzer Prize in 1991. He earned his undergraduate degree in American Studies at Yale University in 1966 and his Ph.D. in history at the same school in 1973. Yale's Graduate School would award him with a Wilbur Cross Medal in 1995.
From 1971 to 1972 Neely was a visiting instructor at Iowa State University. In the latter year, he was named director of The Lincoln Museum in Fort Wayne, Indiana, a position he held for twenty years.
In 1992, Dr. Neely was named the John Francis Bannon Professor of History and American Studies at Saint Louis University. And, in 1998, he was made the McCabe Greer Professor of Civil War History at Pennsylvania State University.
Neely is best known for his 1991 book The Fate of Liberty: Abraham Lincoln and Civil Liberties, which won both the Pulitzer Prize for History and the Bell I. Wiley Prize the following year. In March 1991, he published an article in the magazine Civil War History, entitled Was the Civil War a Total War?, which is considered one of the top three most influential articles on the war written in the last half of the 20th Century.
- from Wikipedia
From 1971 to 1972 Neely was a visiting instructor at Iowa State University. In the latter year, he was named director of The Lincoln Museum in Fort Wayne, Indiana, a position he held for twenty years.
In 1992, Dr. Neely was named the John Francis Bannon Professor of History and American Studies at Saint Louis University. And, in 1998, he was made the McCabe Greer Professor of Civil War History at Pennsylvania State University.
Neely is best known for his 1991 book The Fate of Liberty: Abraham Lincoln and Civil Liberties, which won both the Pulitzer Prize for History and the Bell I. Wiley Prize the following year. In March 1991, he published an article in the magazine Civil War History, entitled Was the Civil War a Total War?, which is considered one of the top three most influential articles on the war written in the last half of the 20th Century.
- from Wikipedia
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Displaying 1 - 12 of 12 reviews
December 12, 2023
With the secession crisis and the outbreak of the Civil War in 1861, the United States government faced a threat unlike any it had known in the previous 72 years of its existence. In response to mobs attacking militia units sent to protect the nation’s capital and individuals in states still loyal to the Union organizing military units in support of the newly-established Confederacy, the recently elected president, Abraham Lincoln, suspended the writ of habeas corpus in the areas experiencing the greatest disorder. Though deemed necessary by the scale of the crisis, Lincoln’s actions quickly earned him the condemnation of Democrats, who denounced the president as a tyrant.
Lincoln’s actions were especially notable for their lack of precedent. Though not the first war waged by the United States, it was the first in which the federal government faced organized challenges to its authority. The novelty of this situation undoubtedly contributed to the belief of many that Lincoln’s actions were a dictatorial abuse of power. Yet Mark Neely largely exonerates the president of such charges. In a series of interrelated essays, he examines the Lincoln administration’s record on civil liberties, showing how their use of such authority proved more limited than many contemporary critics claimed, as political appointees and military officers alike often struggled to find a balance between the demands of war and the need to respect the liberties enshrined in the Bill of Rights.
Among the conclusions that Neely draws in this regard was the importance of context. As he explains, the scope of habeas corpus suspension was never as great as many believed. It was primarily in the border states such as Maryland and Missouri where suspension and martial law were most often applied, and where many of the most controversial cases occurred. Officials empowered by Lincoln’s actions occasionally played into the hands of his opponents by arresting people – including Northerners – who were making political statements in opposition to the administration. While figures such as Clement Vallandigham became free speech heroes, their subsequent releases by higher-ranking authorities demonstrated the hyperbolic and opportunistic nature of the claims made for Lincoln’s abuses.
The arrests of many civilians in contested territory for nonpolitical reasons, however, demonstrated the validity of the fears fueling such hyperbole. Neely assesses the extent of this by pouring through the records of the military commissions and federal prisons, revealing that the number of arrests was even higher than traditionally claimed. Some of those military tribunals operated even in places where the federal courts still functioned, raising questions about their legality that were only resolved by the Supreme Court after the war. Yet for all of the outrages regarding the practice of hostage-taking, the infamous antisemitic-driven expulsion of Jews for allegedly trading with the enemy, and the practice of torture, Neely concludes that such incidents were sensational exceptions rather than the norm, and did not constitute the reign of terror alleged by both Lincoln’s opponents and many scholars after the war.
This may seem to be letting Lincoln off lightly, but by incorporating into his analysis the contrasting efforts over the war to impose legal and supervisory structures to regulate the government’s newly-asserted authority Neely makes a strong case for viewing Lincoln’s record on civil liberties with nuance. Such measured judgments buttressed by the author’s substantial research are why this book has become the classic it is regarded as today. As he demonstrates so effectively, the war proved too messy for clear judgments of a response that sometimes resulted in civil liberties abuses, but which proved far more restrained than what Americans experienced in subsequent conflicts. Though Neely’s assessment of Lincoln’s constitutionalism has been largely superseded by his more recent Lincoln and the Triumph of the Nation: Constitutional Conflict in the American Civil War, this remains an essential read for anyone interested in Lincoln’s record on civil liberties and the history of civil liberties in America during wartime more generally.
Lincoln’s actions were especially notable for their lack of precedent. Though not the first war waged by the United States, it was the first in which the federal government faced organized challenges to its authority. The novelty of this situation undoubtedly contributed to the belief of many that Lincoln’s actions were a dictatorial abuse of power. Yet Mark Neely largely exonerates the president of such charges. In a series of interrelated essays, he examines the Lincoln administration’s record on civil liberties, showing how their use of such authority proved more limited than many contemporary critics claimed, as political appointees and military officers alike often struggled to find a balance between the demands of war and the need to respect the liberties enshrined in the Bill of Rights.
Among the conclusions that Neely draws in this regard was the importance of context. As he explains, the scope of habeas corpus suspension was never as great as many believed. It was primarily in the border states such as Maryland and Missouri where suspension and martial law were most often applied, and where many of the most controversial cases occurred. Officials empowered by Lincoln’s actions occasionally played into the hands of his opponents by arresting people – including Northerners – who were making political statements in opposition to the administration. While figures such as Clement Vallandigham became free speech heroes, their subsequent releases by higher-ranking authorities demonstrated the hyperbolic and opportunistic nature of the claims made for Lincoln’s abuses.
The arrests of many civilians in contested territory for nonpolitical reasons, however, demonstrated the validity of the fears fueling such hyperbole. Neely assesses the extent of this by pouring through the records of the military commissions and federal prisons, revealing that the number of arrests was even higher than traditionally claimed. Some of those military tribunals operated even in places where the federal courts still functioned, raising questions about their legality that were only resolved by the Supreme Court after the war. Yet for all of the outrages regarding the practice of hostage-taking, the infamous antisemitic-driven expulsion of Jews for allegedly trading with the enemy, and the practice of torture, Neely concludes that such incidents were sensational exceptions rather than the norm, and did not constitute the reign of terror alleged by both Lincoln’s opponents and many scholars after the war.
This may seem to be letting Lincoln off lightly, but by incorporating into his analysis the contrasting efforts over the war to impose legal and supervisory structures to regulate the government’s newly-asserted authority Neely makes a strong case for viewing Lincoln’s record on civil liberties with nuance. Such measured judgments buttressed by the author’s substantial research are why this book has become the classic it is regarded as today. As he demonstrates so effectively, the war proved too messy for clear judgments of a response that sometimes resulted in civil liberties abuses, but which proved far more restrained than what Americans experienced in subsequent conflicts. Though Neely’s assessment of Lincoln’s constitutionalism has been largely superseded by his more recent Lincoln and the Triumph of the Nation: Constitutional Conflict in the American Civil War, this remains an essential read for anyone interested in Lincoln’s record on civil liberties and the history of civil liberties in America during wartime more generally.
May 14, 2025
The question of whether President Lincoln violated the Constitution and exercised dictatorial powers during the Civil War existed before this book was written, and it’s continued long after this 34-year-old book was published. So I don’t know that the book settled the issue, nor did it seem that Neely even wanted it to. His introduction dismisses what he calls “the tedious historical debate over whether or not President Lincoln's policies were constitutional.” And after his extremely detailed and careful research as laid out in the book, it certainly doesn’t help settle anything when his conclusion seems to be, “sure, Lincoln violated the Constitution, but so what?”
What Neely aims to do is to examine the practical effects of Lincoln’s policies on civilians’ civil liberties, going beyond the well-known and politically-charged military arrests of Clement Vallandigham and Lambden Milligan to examine who else was arrested, how many, and why.
Much of the book, then, reads as a record of his research rather than a real narrative summary. Neely explains how difficult it can be to get accurate records, and the process he underwent trying to count the number of civilian wartime arrests, how many were serious threats, how many may have been made without Lincoln’s knowledge, where the arrests were made, and for what infractions. It’s all laid out in chapters with riveting titles like “Numbers and Definitions,” featuring subheadings like “History of estimates of the aggregate number of arrests” and “Statistics from manuscript sources of individual cases.”
What can ultimately be gleaned from this research is that Lincoln’s suspension of the writ of habeas corpus, and allowing for military arrests and military trials of civilians, were not as troubling as critics claim, Neely argues. He found that most arrests were in Confederate or border states, and most of them were for criminal offenses. And among the comparatively few arrests in the North, while there were concerning individual cases involving free speech and freedom of the press, most of the cases we don’t hear about “had nothing to do with dissent or political opposition.”
As to the wisdom of, and justification for, suspending the writ of habeas corpus, consider that people who “discouraged enlistments, impeded the draft, or offered aid and comfort to the enemy,” for example, may not have been violating peacetime laws, per se. But they did endanger the war effort, so such arrests may have been the most efficient, if not the only, way to stop them.
It was allowing for military trials of civilians, when local courts were fully functioning, that “most damaged the reputation of the Lincoln administration,” Neely concedes. Ex parte Milligan, decided after the war, declared the practice unconstitutional, but Neely dismisses the decision as “irrelevant,” since it was decided after the war and can’t be applied to the Lincoln administration retroactively.
If the tone of the book thus far suggests this is a defense of Lincoln, that his wartime measures were constitutional and justified, that civilian arrests were not as egregious or widespread as commonly believed, the book takes an odd turn in its penultimate chapter. Here, Neely dismisses the very idea that Lincoln was even trying to act constitutionally.
He begins by observing that Lincoln was primarily pragmatic, and would “suggest practical reasons for action and then add assurances and proofs that the Constitution permitted it.” He later refines this observation to declare that Lincoln “moved with decisiveness” but without undue deference to “constitutional scruple.” He refines it still further by saying that Lincoln showed “an attitude of indifference to the niceties of constitutional interpretation.”
So in Neely’s view, Lincoln was acting unconstitutionally, didn’t particularly care, but was justified in doing so, so it doesn’t really matter. One could justify this view by referring to Lincoln quotes like "are all the laws but one to go unexecuted, and the government itself go to pieces, lest that one be violated?" But Neely’s analysis starts to ring false when he views Lincoln as having a similarly cavalier attitude toward the Constitution when it came to slavery.
Neely first calls Lincoln’s anti-slavery interpretation of the Constitution a “myth” adopted for political purposes. He later appears to accuse Lincoln of hypocrisy as he wrestled with the legality of emancipation - instead of acknowledging that Lincoln had a genuine concern about the constitutionality of freeing slaves, he sniffs that Lincoln suddenly became “strangely stricken with a paralyzing constitutional scrupulousness,” as though he would have preferred not to do it at all. “When delaying freedom for the slave, Lincoln thought first of constitutional principle, then of policy,” he writes contemptuously. “But policy considerations came first with him in dealing with the crisis following the firing on Fort Sumter.”
And when Lincoln does ultimately issue the Emancipation Proclamation, Neely concludes that Lincoln had “abandoned any belief that slavery, because of the Constitution, could not be touched in the states where it then existed” - which ignores the fact that emancipation was a military measure and Lincoln continued to pursue constitutional ways to eradicate slavery, knowing that he could not do so by proclamation. Lincoln’s view that the Constitution forbade him from interfering with the institution of slavery in the states was a core belief of his that he never abandoned. So this observation seems particularly off base.
And yet, after all of this commentary critical of Lincoln, Neely suddenly concludes that his “ability to balance short-term practicality and long-term ideals is perhaps the essence of statesmanship.”
So I can’t say that I disagree with his conclusion, but I’m not so sure about all of the arguments he made on the way to reaching that assessment. That, together with the emphasis on stats and facts and figures to the detriment of readability, made this book feel like more of a chore than a pleasure read to me. Far be it from me to contradict the Pulitzer Prize Board when it comes to judging this book’s worthiness, but that just seems to demonstrate that an “important” book is not always a satisfying one.
What Neely aims to do is to examine the practical effects of Lincoln’s policies on civilians’ civil liberties, going beyond the well-known and politically-charged military arrests of Clement Vallandigham and Lambden Milligan to examine who else was arrested, how many, and why.
Much of the book, then, reads as a record of his research rather than a real narrative summary. Neely explains how difficult it can be to get accurate records, and the process he underwent trying to count the number of civilian wartime arrests, how many were serious threats, how many may have been made without Lincoln’s knowledge, where the arrests were made, and for what infractions. It’s all laid out in chapters with riveting titles like “Numbers and Definitions,” featuring subheadings like “History of estimates of the aggregate number of arrests” and “Statistics from manuscript sources of individual cases.”
What can ultimately be gleaned from this research is that Lincoln’s suspension of the writ of habeas corpus, and allowing for military arrests and military trials of civilians, were not as troubling as critics claim, Neely argues. He found that most arrests were in Confederate or border states, and most of them were for criminal offenses. And among the comparatively few arrests in the North, while there were concerning individual cases involving free speech and freedom of the press, most of the cases we don’t hear about “had nothing to do with dissent or political opposition.”
As to the wisdom of, and justification for, suspending the writ of habeas corpus, consider that people who “discouraged enlistments, impeded the draft, or offered aid and comfort to the enemy,” for example, may not have been violating peacetime laws, per se. But they did endanger the war effort, so such arrests may have been the most efficient, if not the only, way to stop them.
It was allowing for military trials of civilians, when local courts were fully functioning, that “most damaged the reputation of the Lincoln administration,” Neely concedes. Ex parte Milligan, decided after the war, declared the practice unconstitutional, but Neely dismisses the decision as “irrelevant,” since it was decided after the war and can’t be applied to the Lincoln administration retroactively.
If the tone of the book thus far suggests this is a defense of Lincoln, that his wartime measures were constitutional and justified, that civilian arrests were not as egregious or widespread as commonly believed, the book takes an odd turn in its penultimate chapter. Here, Neely dismisses the very idea that Lincoln was even trying to act constitutionally.
He begins by observing that Lincoln was primarily pragmatic, and would “suggest practical reasons for action and then add assurances and proofs that the Constitution permitted it.” He later refines this observation to declare that Lincoln “moved with decisiveness” but without undue deference to “constitutional scruple.” He refines it still further by saying that Lincoln showed “an attitude of indifference to the niceties of constitutional interpretation.”
So in Neely’s view, Lincoln was acting unconstitutionally, didn’t particularly care, but was justified in doing so, so it doesn’t really matter. One could justify this view by referring to Lincoln quotes like "are all the laws but one to go unexecuted, and the government itself go to pieces, lest that one be violated?" But Neely’s analysis starts to ring false when he views Lincoln as having a similarly cavalier attitude toward the Constitution when it came to slavery.
Neely first calls Lincoln’s anti-slavery interpretation of the Constitution a “myth” adopted for political purposes. He later appears to accuse Lincoln of hypocrisy as he wrestled with the legality of emancipation - instead of acknowledging that Lincoln had a genuine concern about the constitutionality of freeing slaves, he sniffs that Lincoln suddenly became “strangely stricken with a paralyzing constitutional scrupulousness,” as though he would have preferred not to do it at all. “When delaying freedom for the slave, Lincoln thought first of constitutional principle, then of policy,” he writes contemptuously. “But policy considerations came first with him in dealing with the crisis following the firing on Fort Sumter.”
And when Lincoln does ultimately issue the Emancipation Proclamation, Neely concludes that Lincoln had “abandoned any belief that slavery, because of the Constitution, could not be touched in the states where it then existed” - which ignores the fact that emancipation was a military measure and Lincoln continued to pursue constitutional ways to eradicate slavery, knowing that he could not do so by proclamation. Lincoln’s view that the Constitution forbade him from interfering with the institution of slavery in the states was a core belief of his that he never abandoned. So this observation seems particularly off base.
And yet, after all of this commentary critical of Lincoln, Neely suddenly concludes that his “ability to balance short-term practicality and long-term ideals is perhaps the essence of statesmanship.”
So I can’t say that I disagree with his conclusion, but I’m not so sure about all of the arguments he made on the way to reaching that assessment. That, together with the emphasis on stats and facts and figures to the detriment of readability, made this book feel like more of a chore than a pleasure read to me. Far be it from me to contradict the Pulitzer Prize Board when it comes to judging this book’s worthiness, but that just seems to demonstrate that an “important” book is not always a satisfying one.
April 8, 2008
Mark E Neely, Jr. presents the Lincoln administration open and honestly; warts and all. He does this not to attack nor tear down Mr. Lincoln; but supportively. He presents Lincoln as a man of his time in history. Lincoln's suspension of habeas corpus is seen as bold move that was neccessary in order to save the Union from enemies within. Lincoln reasoned that he would not let being bound blindly to a point or two of the Constitution cause the demise of the nation. He is likened to the ancient Greeks and Romans who would assume dictatorial powers during the crisis; only to release them to resume liberties after the need was over. When the South called for seccesion; Abraham Lincoln's reply was most probably "not on my watch!" And our author concurs.
July 28, 2025
This book, published in 1991, was an interesting read in light of what occurred during the Bush 43 administration. After re-reading the book it is even more pertinent. The book covers the declaration of martial law, military commissions, and the suspension of Habeas Corpus. Though much is about their occurrence during the Civil War there are mentions of their use at other times. Part of the book also points out the lack of reliable statistics in ascertaining the numbers of arrests and what type of prisoner the arrestee is. It is also pointed out statements, letters, orations and newspaper articles need to be taken in context. The context sometimes changes the meaning of the verbage.
January 19, 2024
Oh my.
The Fate of Liberty won the Pulitzer Prize for history, as well it should.
But while most Pulitzers are awarded to popular histories and non-fiction, Fate is no such thing.
The author reviews in exhaustive - and exhausting - detail not just actions and controversies regarding habeas corpus and martial law. It seems half the book covers, in mindnumbing detail, statistics and reviews of other historical writings. As such, it is much too meta for this reader.
Skip this one, unless you have read all of the other books on the War.
The Fate of Liberty won the Pulitzer Prize for history, as well it should.
But while most Pulitzers are awarded to popular histories and non-fiction, Fate is no such thing.
The author reviews in exhaustive - and exhausting - detail not just actions and controversies regarding habeas corpus and martial law. It seems half the book covers, in mindnumbing detail, statistics and reviews of other historical writings. As such, it is much too meta for this reader.
Skip this one, unless you have read all of the other books on the War.
November 27, 2023
Lincoln was actually dumb….or was he???? Would you break the law over and over and over and over if you could save the country ??? (Yes is the answer)
August 17, 2024
Groundbreaking history. Enjoyed combination of qualitative and quantitative evidence.
December 19, 2014
Good historical critique, although it is very critical of Lincoln and his administration, which is fine, but seems to go a bit too far, portraying Lincoln and Seward as bumbling idiots, at least in the beginning. I found the tone a bit off-putting though.
June 19, 2008
I love history, however it was difficult for me to get into this particular book. I found it interesting but there was nothing pulling me from page to page.
August 10, 2013
read this for my Civil War research paper...goes into all the situations revolving around Lincoln's suspension of habeas corpus during the Civil War. Very good, solid history
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September 23, 2010The Fate of Liberty: Abraham Lincoln and Civil Liberties by Mark E. Neely Jr. (1992)
April 12, 2016
This book was helpful in an essay I wrote about Lincoln's decisions early in the American Civil War.
Displaying 1 - 12 of 12 reviews