JOSHUA CHAMBERLAIN: A HERO’S LIFE AND LEGACY, by John J. Pullen, Stackpole Books, Mechanicsburg, Pa., 1999, 189 pages, $22.95.

FANNY AND JOSHUA: THE ENIGMATIC LIVES OF FRANCES CAROLINE ADAMS AND JOSHUA LAWRENCE CHAMBERLAIN, by Diane Monroe Smith, Thomas Publications, Gettysburg, Pa., 1999, 352 pages, $30.

Eighty-five years after his death in 1914, the spirit of Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain still captivates Americans. Lionized in Ken Burns’ “Civil War” series and even on the label of a bottled pale ale, Maine’s foremost Civil War hero is arguably more revered now than in the summer of 1863, when he ordered the 20th Maine Regiment to fix bayonets and rout the Confederates, helping to turn the tide at the bloody Battle of Gettysburg.

Was Gen. Chamberlain really a perfect human being? Two recently published biographies suggest he was indeed a great man, at least on the battlefield, but in private life the Brewer native was all too mortal, brimming with the same strengths and flaws as his contemporaries.

After reading these books, readers may be left with mixed emotions about Chamberlain. At times the young Joshua, or Lawrence, as his family called him, seems a callous, lusty young man, pursuing his future wife, Frances (“Fanny”) Caroline Adams, with unusual zeal. A clean-living, plain-talking man of the cloth, he gloried in battle, and, as a four-term postwar governor, he unapologetically sent a black man on death row to the gallows.

Who was this bundle of contradictions? Maine authors John J. Pullen and Diane Monroe Smith fix their own bayonets to unearth some answers. With vastly different writing styles, but with the same objective — to shed new light on an old topic — both reveal the human side of an icon. Solid research that stretched across years helps make their books a feast for historians who enjoy reading unpublished 19th century letters and other material and having conventional ideas challenged.

Pullen’s 1957 book, “The Twentieth Maine: A Volunteer Regiment in the Civil War,” helped thrust Chamberlain back into the limelight after changing values of two world wars hid him in the shadows. His latest book, not a biography in the traditional sense, is rather a series of 16 chapters addressing many aspects of Chamberlain’s life and legacy, including his views on prohibition (he imbibed on occasion), teaching (he loathed it), politics (a reluctant Republican), and, of course, the climactic Little Round Top battle at Gettysburg. Like a skilled tailor, Pullen weaves the mystique of Gettysburg throughout his story, leaving the details for the book’s second half. They’re worth the wait, as is the story of Chamberlain’s acceptance of the Confederate surrender at Appomattax Court House, Va., and his still-controversial salute of the vanquished army.

Such is Pullen’s gift as a historian and storyteller that his book is never dull. His anecdotes are always a joy, such as the day when Chamberlain, the powerful head of Maine’s militia, faced down a potential killer on the steps of the State House during the 1880 Greenbacker Party scandal which threatened statewide civil war.

Also chronicled are Chamberlain’s handling of a near mutiny by Bowdoin College students, who feared Joshua, president of the institution for 12 years, was turning their school into another West Point; and present-day comparisons with current Gov. Angus S. King.

“If reincarnation is possible he may be Joshua Chamberlain,” writes Pullen. “He rather looks like him. He lives in Brunswick and commutes to his office in Augusta, as Chamberlain did. And his house is on Potter Street, where Chamberlain lived.”

Diane Monroe Smith of Holden, a retired social worker and high school tutor, weighs in (literally — as compared to Pullen’s succinct 189 pages her volume totals 352 pages), with a much more personal story, told from beginning to end, of the 50-year marriage of Chamberlain to a minister’s adopted daughter, Fanny Adams, whom Joshua met at the Rev. George Adams’ First Parish Church in Brunswick. Smith writes with a flowery style, but there is no doubting the veracity of her research. Some of the love letters exchanged between Fanny and Joshua (reprinted in tedious italics) have never before been published in their entirety, if at all. Old letters at times make interesting reading, other times they’re downright dull. A wise editor would have snipped out extraneous sections which slow the narrative.

Smith is at best when describing the highs and lows of Fanny and Joshua’s marriage. She writes that the many challenges, such as the heartbreak of infant mortality and his wounding at the Battle of Petersburg, almost certainly ending his sex life, actually strengthened their union. The one black mark is Fanny’s brief threat of divorce, accusing Joshua of wife beating. As the years pass, one comes to admire the mature woman, long derided by historians as a self-centered, uncaring wife and mother.

In early 1863, Fanny joined her husband on the battlefield. Smith’s description of what ensued shows the spirit of a gutsy woman, who rode on horseback and witnessed firsthand the horrors of war.

Smith’s six years of research also turned up letters from Joshua to his family, such as this touching gem to his sister “Sae” back in Brewer after the death of his brother Horace from tuberculosis:

“I feel very sad this winter, in thinking about Horace — in trying to realize that he is really gone from us. So it is not after all for him, as it is for the thought of the thing, for myself, & for us all, that I feel sad. …”

Plaudits to Smith and Pullen, whose books, well illustrated with photographs of people and places, complement each other in a further understanding of vibrant 19th century personalities. Born into a turbulent time, these ordinary, and extraordinary, men and women helped change the landscape of American history.