A book is now out on these plagiarism cases, Past Imperfect: Facts, Fictions, Frauds - American History From Bancroft And Parkman To Ambrose, Bellisles, Ellis, And Goodwin, by Peter Charles Hoffer.
Once you read the book, however, you begin to understand what a slippery term “plagiarism” is in such cases.
In the first half, Hoffer goes over the history of history; i.e., he shows that the major writers of the 19th century did not make or even recognize the current distinction between primary and secondary sources. If B quoted A, then writer C could take A’s quote out of B without bothering to go back to the original. This was completely accepted. It was also completely accepted for C to do a close paraphrase of B’s words without acknowledgment. Facts were facts and a good description of them remained valid forever. The writers were knowledgeable amateurs, writing for a general public.
The 20th century changed this is two ways. First, it professionalized history. The standards it set itself required that primary sources were to be consulted and doublechecked and used as the basis for all work. This was a very good thing since it turned out that all too many times B didn’t quote A properly and had to be corrected. Writers wrote for other historians, usually in such technical and boring language that nobody else read them.
There was also the issue of Consensus History - the American story of heroes and Manifest Destiny and the Melting Pot and all that patriotic white men uber allus stuff - being replaced by the New History - a realization that history looked different when looked at through different eyes.
The second half of Hoffer’s book mooshes all this together incoherently. The authors in his title were professional historians, but the books that made them famous were popular histories. He keeps making this distinction yet simultaneously keeps saying that when professional historians write they must use the rules of professional historians.
And so we get to the “plagiarism” charges. What Hoffer calls plagiarism he also describes as “close paraphrasing.” Ambrose would find a good description in someone else’s book and use it in his work, changing it sufficiently to flow into his narrative. The source was cited in the footnotes, but only as a chunk of text, say pp. 34-48, rather than the particular page(s) used.
I’m a popular medical writer. My books were never allowed to have footnotes or bibliography. Yes, literally not allowed: the editors didn’t want either to add the extra number of pages or make the book appear to be less readable. I’m pretty sure I was guilty of close paraphrasing at times: a good description is a good description, just as Francis Parkman and other giants of history found. I did squeeze as much formal quoting and crediting into the text as my editors would allow. I also set up a web site with the complete footnotes and bibliography for people to check.
Am I guilty of plagiarism? I don’t think so. By the accepted “rules” of popular writing, certainly not. By Hoffer’s definition of popular history, also certainly not.
Were Ambrose and Goodwin guilty of plagiarism? That’s a more interesting debate, and it depends on both whether a professional historian should never do close paraphrasing, even when writing popular works, and also whether the amount of it they did, which in Ambrose’s case appears to be considerable, makes a difference. (My books would not have more than one instance from a source, while Ambrose may have used dozens.)
The issue is not simple black/white. Hoffer is confused to incoherent rage on the subject and us nonprofessionals are left to wonder whose rules are supposed to be applied when and where and by whom, and whether any rules really exist at all.
I will admit that I love Ambrose’s books. He writes wonderfully well and gives a better picture of history than almost any other historian. Many of Hoffer’s villains in his book are also wonderful writers of narrative history, like Daniel Boorstin. I hate to urge you to read what I think is a very flawed book, but Hoffer does at least give a picture of why history as a profession is in crisis.