James Swanson's bloody crimes is awesome! This book is the real deal.

The stakes are high. Both United States President Abraham Lincoln and Confederates States President Jefferson Davis are very busy men in the spring of 1865. Both men are at pivotal points of transition. Swanson zeroes in on this period with expert precision. The Civil War had raged on for four long years, the carnage, death, and destruction, so palpable all of the evils of the world pressed Americas to a breaking point. 620,000 men were dead. Most were buried in makeshift graves, never to be identified, or returned home to rest in their family graveyard. America was a powder keg. American's had never experienced loss on such a grand level, nearly everybody was affected. Their anxiety so powerful, American's were glued to the newspapers to learn the fate of their dear loved ones. Families were left without fathers and providers. In some cases, all the men of the family were killed, leaving the wives and children to scavenge for whatever food they could find. This harsh reality was more pronounced in the South.

As Swanson's discourse continues, the reader is taken on an epic journey across the Union following the casket of Lincoln as it travels city-to-city to be viewed by mourning Americans, who waited in long lines to get a last glimpse of their beloved president, while mirroring the southern movements of Jefferson Davis as he trekked deeper into the south. The remains of the assassinated president were able to withstand the twenty day unrefrigerated journey along the countryside from Washington D.C. to its final resting place at Springfield, Illinois. Swanson describes the preparatory process of the dead with razor precision, like Drew Gilpin Faust who at length brought about fresh research of the Civil War dead in her profoundly moving book: This Republic of Suffering: Death and the American Civil War.

Swanson titles each of the twelve chapters in a witty fashion. For example, the title of chapter eight, "He is Named for You," is derived from an incident recorded by John Regan, where he witnessed Jefferson Davis give away his last gold coin to a little boy he met along his retreat south. The boy, the mother told, was named for Davis. This kind gesture from a fleeing Davis illustrated his selflessness and generosity. The gold coin he gave the little boy left Davis penniless. In another example, the title of chapter nine, "Coffin That Slowly Passes," a line in a poem by Walt Whitman, was a perfect title that fittingly captured the mood and importance of the chapter.

A very touching ending, Swanson ties the plot together nicely. Like Lincoln, Davis received a death pageant that came about four years after he died. By his wife, Varina's wishes, Davis was removed from his mausoleum at Metairie Cemetery, New Orleans, and transferred to rest in the Hollywood Cemetery at Richmond, Virginia. Along the way, a death pageant took place with parades and celebration for the man the south held dearly in their hearts. Davis train was greeted with the same respect that Lincoln received on his epic death pageant. It was similarly eerie. In Swanson's wholeness fashion, he leaves the reader satisfied, telling of graveyard workers who removed Davis's beloved son, Samuel and brought him to Hollywood Cemetery in Richmond to rest with his father. Davis would now rest with Samuel, who tragically in 1854 (nearly forty years prior) died shortly before his second birthday, and waited all those years for his father to reclaim him. Davis's other son, Joseph, who at five years old tragically died from a fall in 1864, was transferred from another grave at Hollywood Cemetery and brought to rest with his father. Like Lincoln, Davis had posthumously come back to reclaim his boys. Swanson provided a touching human experience like no other.

In closing, Swanson draws the reader's attention to known realities; many of them are unaware of. Many commuters across the north, daily trace the route Lincoln took on his death pageant without ever realizing its historic relevance. Unbeknownst New Yorkers who commute north of Manhattan, on their way home each night travel over the same route of Lincoln's funeral train. Swanson's closing point is simple: As years go by, history gets lost along the way. Especially in the case of Jefferson Davis, who like the wind and rain of Hurricane Katrina in 2005, which destroyed the museum and library at his home in Beauvoir, swept away the historical sanctuary Davis had worked to preserve the memory of the Confederacy, its honored dead, and the Lost Cause. In 2009, on the commemorative 200 birth of Lincoln, a celebration took place at the White House and the nation celebrated with effects such as postage stamps, and commemorative coins. On June 3, 2008, the 200th birthday of Jefferson Davis came and went almost without notice. The favor of history goes to the victor. The twentieth century belonged to Lincoln. Civil War enthusiasts should get a copy of Swanson's Blood Crimes: The Chase for Jefferson Davis and the Death Pageant for Lincoln's Corpse as fast as they can. It's justly a keeper