Last week, Dimitri Rotov posted about his recent visit to a Barnes & Noble store. He wrote:

Shortly before my recent vacation, I stopped by the Barnes & Noble in Reston to see what was doing in the ACW section. Among regional bookstores, their Civil War section is the smallest for some reason.

There’s the market for you – uncertain. Sweet and sour news for Eric…

Thanks to Dimitri for noticing, and thanks also for the kind words about the book, which is, indeed, a handsome volume.

Then, Mike Koepke picked up the cudgel. Mike wrote:

I would say that I have noticed the same thing. Over the past year, Barnes & Noble has made a conscience decision to reduce the number of Civill War titles on its shelves. Of the 2 stores in my area I have visited, I would say the shelf space devoted to Civil War has dwindled by 50%-60% over the past year. Unless you’re looking for the top sellers or Barnes & Noble books reprints, they are not the place to go if you want to just browse for other off-topic books. Borders has consistantly devoted a much larger section in History to Civil War titles. I would say Borders now has at least 10-15 times more selection.

A number of folks commented that they had seen the same thing, including me. In fact, there are two different Barnes & Noble stores near my house. One is about four miles away, and the other about eight. The closer one is a small store in a neighborhood strip shopping center. The last time that I was in that store, they had about fifteen Civil War books on their shelves. Period. The other store is a superstore–it has two stories, is quite large, and has about three times the inventory of the smaller one. The last time that I was in there, they had about the same number of Civil War books. Our two local Borders stores, on the other hand, continue to maintain a large selection of Civil War books, including multiple copies of many titles. It’s really kind of a shocking comparison.

Given my druthers, I absolutely and categorically refuse to enter either of those Barnes & Noble stores any more. I’m a local author, and they won’t carry my books. I’ve tried to arrange signings at the larger store, and can’t even get the courtesy of a “go pound sand” from them. I used to spend a lot of money in those stores, but I will no longer go in there, and I will no longer buy anything in either one.

Today, Kevin Levin, who has some first-hand, personal knowledge of these things, weighed in. Kevin, who used to work at a Borders store, wrote:

A few of my fellow Civil War bloggers have commented on the poor offerings of Civil War titles at their local stores. Most of us browse either our local Barnes and Noble or Borders and have noticed a difference in the quality of the overall selection. Since I worked for Borders from 1994 to 1998 I can comment on the difference. I worked at the Borders in Rockville, Maryland, which as many of you who live in that area know is one of the larger stores in the chain. I was in charge of the magazine section, but given my growing interest in the Civil War at the time was also responsible for the Civil War section. Those of you who have commented on the selection between these two competitors have rightfully pointed out that Borders seems to offer more. At least when I worked for the company I had the option of ordering any title that I thought would enrich the section. I took full advantage of this opportunity.

There is no doubt that the selection of Civil War titles has diminished in the major chain stores. There is no conspiracy however; it is a simple question of how best to utilize limited space. If you want large selections of books than I suggest you find religion or engage in a little self-reflection to uncover your short-comings and any other psychological malfunction that could be helped by browsing the Self-Help section. I suspect that many people are buying on-line where there are some excellent discounts available. I’ve recently moved in this direction, but I still enjoy browsing a well-stocked store. Amazon typically offers up to a 36% discount on newly-released titles. Small press titles are probably suffering more than those published by the university presses, and the reason is that the latter will be bought by both colleges and university libraries. Perhaps that is why they can get away with charging higher prices as they don’t need to print as many. As I’ve said before, most Civil War enthusiasts don’t read books. And most of the people who attend Civil War Roundtable meetings are senior citizens which suggests that unless new blood is discovered the Civil War section will be even more difficult to find in your local store.

Thanks, Kevin. This is useful insight, and I really appreciate it. It also makes a degree of sense, and goes a long way toward explaining some of the seeming lack of interest.

At the same time, my beef with the local Barnes & Noble stores remains intact and unchanged. That they ignore a local author bothers me to no end. I take it personally, even though the logical side of my brain knows it’s not personal. As I said, I will not go in any of the local B&N stores willingly, and I refuse to spend a dime there when I do go in. On those occasions when I feel compelled to visit one of the large chain bookstores, I will choose Borders almost every time, because our local stores always have at least one of my titles in stock. And when we travel, and I have the option, I really like the Books-a-Million stores. Unfortunately BAM does not have a store anywhere near Columbus, so it’s not very often that I get to shop there, typically only when we’re in North Carolina vacationing.

As I said last night, I much prefer to patronize independent book sellers. For one thing, they appreciate the business more than do the megachains. For another, they have a lot more latitude in what they carry, and finally, they are the bread and butter for small, niche publishers such as Ironclad. Thus, whenever I can, I will patronize one of them before the big guys, and if I have to buy from a big mega-bookseller, I prefer Amazon. They discount, and the book gets delivered to me. I can shop from the convenience of my couch. And they ALWAYS have my books in stock….

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On Saturday, Susan and I visited a local independent bookseller. They actually have a much better selection of Civil War books than any of the local Barnes & Noble stores (I hate Barnes & Noble. However, that’s another rant for another day). Also, the best customers that Ironclad Publishing has are the independents, so I go out of my way to patronize the independents wherever and whenever possible, just because I feel compelled to support those who support us.

Being an independent bookseller, they also have a lot more latitude to focus on things of local interest and on local authors. However, I was unprepared for what I saw when I walked into the store on Saturday. There, in a very prominent position–an end cap–was an entire shelf dedicated to nothing but my work, with a little shelf tag that indicated that I was a local author. There was a second shelf tag, indicating that the book on Stuart’s Ride was forthcoming soon. I was blown away by this…I had no idea that my work was being featured to prominently in a town that has little interest in history as a general rule.

They had about half of my titles there, more than I had expected. I was, however, very surprised not to see a copy of the Monroe’s Crossroads book on the shelf, so Susan asked about it. The clerk said that he was certain that they had a copy of the book in stock, that he had just seen it recently. He looked, and, sure enough, no book. So, he went and checked on the computer, which indicated that it had not been sold and was still in inventory. We looked all over history and local interest, and even in the newly-arrived stuff that was waiting to be shelved, and we couldn’t find the thing anywhere.

The clerk concluded that the book had been the subject of a ten-finger discount. That somebody would shoplift one of my books absolutely blew me away. It simply never had occurred to me that someone would want one of my books enough to steal the thing. It hit me as bizarre and surrealistic, all at the same time. I’m not often left speechless, but on this occasion, I nearly was. I had no idea what to say about it, and I still don’t quite know what to make of it.

That I’m never going to get rich doing this sort of work is something I realized long ago, and it’s something I’m comfortable with. Therefore, it’s just bizarre that somebody would steal one of my books. I thought only best-selling authors had that happen. 🙂

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Today is the 142nd anniversary of the first day of the Battle of Trevilian Station, named for an obscure stop on the Virginia Central Railroad located in Louisa County, Virginia.

There, in a brutal two-day slugging match that was the largest all-cavalry battle of the Civil War (there were 3,000 Union infantry engaged at Brandy Station), Wade Hampton thrashed Philip H. Sheridan’s cavalry and utterly prevented Sheridan from achieving any of his strategic objectives for his second protracted cavalry raid. I have argued that Hampton’s victory at Trevilian Station was the only decisive cavalry battle of the war. I define decisive as making an impact on the ultimate outcome of the war.

Grant had ordered Sheridan to take two divisions of the Army of the Potomac’s Cavalry Corps, march along the north bank of the North Anna River, and then to fall upon and destroy the critical railroad junctions at Gordonsville (the Virginia Central and the Orange & Alexandria Railroads) and at Charlottesville. Sheridan would find David Hunter’s army at Charlottesville and then, joining with Hunter, escort his army to Petersburg, where the Army of the Potomac and the Army of the James would be moving on this critical railroad junction town and logistics center. In the meantime, the Army of the Potomac would steal a march on Robert E. Lee by crossing the James River and would move on Petersburg. It was a brilliant plan, based on Grant’s mastrey of the strategic cavalry raid. The question was: would the execution be as brilliant as the plan. Thanks to a magnificent performance by Wade Hampton, the answer was no.

Had Sheridan accomplished his objectives, he would have torn up the Virginia Central Railroad and then brought Maj. Gen. David Hunter’s Shenandoah Valley army to Petersburg, where the Army of Northern Virginia would have been invested on three sides, and Robert E. Lee either would have had to come out to fight Grant on ground of Grant’s choosing, or the siege would have led to the inevitable strangulation of Lee’s army.

There also would not have been a Shenandoah Valley Campaign that fall, either. Lt. Gen. Jubal A. Early’s army never would have gotten the Valley, and the Valley’s lush granary would have been forever lost to the Confederacy. Instead, when Hunter went to Lynchburg instead of Charlottesville, the defeat of Sheridan’s cavalry enabled Lee to send Early’s troops to meet the threat posed by Hunter. By the time they marched through Trevilian Station on June 14, whatever damage had been done to the Virginia Central had already been repaired, and Early’s infantry was able to board trains at Charlottesville and ride to Lynchburg, arriving just in time to meet the advance of Hunter’s army as it approached Lynchburg. After defeating Hunter, Early marched north, crossed the Potomac River, threatened Washington, D.C., and then withdrew into the Shenandoah Valley, daring Grant to come and get him. Thus, Wade Hampton’s superb battlefield victory at Trevilian Station may have bought the Confederacy another six months’ lease on life.

Here’s to the men of both sides who slugged it out at Trevilian Station that hot, dry June 142 years ago today.

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143 years ago today, an epic passage of arms occurred on the hills and fields surrounding an obscure stop on the Orange & Alexandria Railroad called Brandy Station, located a few miles from Culpeper Court House. 21,000 Union and Confederate cavalrymen and 3,000 Union infantrymen spent fourteen hours locked in mortal combat that day.

The Union commander, Brig. Gen. Alfred Pleasonton, the temporary commander of the Army of the Potomac’s Cavalry Corps, was given a simple task: fall upon, destroy, or disperse the huge concentration of Confederate cavalry in Culpeper County. Pleasonton designed a brilliant plan. He divided his force into two wings. The right wing, consisting of the First Cavalry Division and a brigade of 1,500 selected infantry, would cross the Rappahannock River at Beverly’s Ford, and the Second and Third Divisions, along with another infantry brigade, would cross six miles further south at Kelly’s Ford. With the Second Division protecting the southern flank, the First and Third Divisions would converge on Culpeper. The infantry would hold the fords.

The plan was brilliant, but for one major problem. It was based on a faulty premise; it assumed that the enemy would be in and around Culpeper, and not just across the Rappahannock River. When John Buford’s First Division crossed the river, it immediately encountered Confederate cavalry, and a great battle commenced. Buford’s command lost a brigade commander, Col. Benjamin F. “Grimes” Davis, in the opening moments of the battle. Elements of Buford’s command, including five companies of the 6th Pennsylvania Cavalry, made a determined attempt to capture a battaltion of Confederate horse artillery at St. James Church. Buford’s fight then bogged down into a desperate slugging match.

David Gregg’s Third Division crossed at Kelly’s Ford, and Gregg’s advance reached Fleetwood Hill about 11:00 that morning. There occurred a scene its participants remembered for the rest of their lives: brigade-sized mounted charged and countercharges, featuring sabers glinting in the bright spring sunshine. It was all of the romance typically associated with mounted melees, only a scale almost beyond imagination.

During the climax of the fight, Capt. Wesley Merritt, the commander of the 2nd U. S. Cavalry, engaged in a personal saber duel with Brig. Gen. William H. F. “Rooney” Lee, General Robert E. Lee’s second son. Rooney Lee was wounded in the engagement and was later captured as a result. Buford’s men briefly carried the crest of Yew Ridge, the northern extension of Fleetwood Hill, before being driven back. Col. Alfred N. Duffie’s Second Division, which was held up at Kelly’s Ford for nearly the entire day by two regiments of Confederate cavalry, played no role in the main battle, and only arrived at Fleetwood Hill in time to cover Gregg’s withdrawal.

Jeb Stuart and his Confederate cavalry had been caught by surprise, but they had fought a magnificent fight. The brigade of Brig. Gen. William E. “Grumble” Jones, in particular, carried the bulk of the day’s fighting, and these men performed superbly.

Finally, at the end of the day, Pleasonton broke off and withdrew, his troopers withdrawing at their own leisurely rate. Stuart was perfectly happy to let them go. By all measures, Brandy Staiton is a Confederate victory: Stuart held the battlefield at the end of the day, and Pleasonton utterly failed to accomplish his objectives. Although Pleasonton later lied and claimed that he had captured Stuart’s field desk and its contents, thereby alerting the Union high command to the Confederate plan to invade the north, nothing of the sort happened. Pleaosnton was a notorious liar, and this was one of his very worst. In short, the raid accomplished none of its objectives, but it was a magnificent effort on the part of both sides.

Stuart came under harsh criticism for being caught by surprise, but he handled his troops superbly. Ultimately, he won the battle, but he caught hell for it. Brandy Station delayed the beginning of the Confederate invasion of Pennsylvania by a single day, so it had very little in the way of strategic significance to the ultimate outcome of the campaign. However, many people, including Stuart’s engineer officer. W. W. Blackford, have claimed that the Brandy Station fight made the Union cavalry, and that from that day forward the Army of the Potomac’s Cavalry Corps was fully the equal of Stuart’s vaunted horsemen.

Thus, Brandy Station marks a red-letter day in the development of the Federal cavalry, and it also marks the largest cavalry battle ever fought on the North American continent. As such, it is worthy of being remembered, and I pay tribute to the men who fought and died there that day, whether they wore blue or gray.

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Last Friday, when we went to Trevilian Station, I photographed about a dozen sites around the battlefield. These photos will be used in the new edition of my study of Sheridan’s Trevilian Raid that will be published by Bison Books in 2007. Although I was hoping to add new material to the main body of the book, I understand why that would be very difficult. It would change everything, from pagination to the existing index, and everything else.

Instead, we agreed that I would be permitted to add a driving tour of the raid that will feature about a dozen contemporary views of the battlefield, which explains the photography last week. I’ve been working on putting together the driving tour, which will be a bit different from the one that was included in the 2002 issue of Blue and Gray magazine that was dedicated to the Trevilian Raid. Things have changed since we originally put that tour together, and it needed more detail and an update.

After a lot of work, I finished the revised driving tour tonight. All that remains to be done is to download the photos from my digital camera and burn the whole works to a CD-ROM, and it’s all done, ready to go to the publisher. I will do that this weekend, and then the project is complete. That’s one that I can check off my list of open and pending projects, which is always a good thing.

There’s still plenty of work to be done on other projects, of course–I still have to incorporate the additional set of letters that’s coming into my new regimental history of the Sixth Pennsylvania Cavalry, which will arrive in a week or so. I also have in excess of 100 illustrations to scan for that book and a dozen or so maps. Once I get that stuff done, then that project can, after a dozen-plus years, also be put to bed. After so many years, it hardly seems possible that it will be finished, but so it is.

There’s always more. J. D. Petruzzi and I are kicking around an idea that will be a monumental task, probably requiring two volumes in order to do it right. More on that later, as the idea coalesces.

For now, fear not. I am plenty busy.

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Please welcome Tom Churchill, Stephen McManus, and Donald Thompson, authors of a useful book on Civil War research and all ancestors of members of the 18th Massachusetts Infantry, to the blogosphere. They have launched a new blog called Touch the Elbow. I have added a link in my blog directory. There’s some interesting material here. Check it out!

Welcome to the blogosphere, guys.

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My recent visit to Gettysburg reminded me of a phenomenon that never ceases to amaze me. As I drove through the Little Round Top area, and specifically, by the spur where the 20th Maine fought, I was again astonished by the number of people packed into that small area. Many of them are, of course, there because of either The Killer Angels or Ted Turner’s movie adaptation of it.

The star of both book and movie is Col. Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain, the commander of the 20th Maine Infantry. To be sure, Jeff Daniels gave a terrific performance as Chamberlain, and he deserves the accolades that he received for that performance (too bad the follow up in Gods and Generals wasn’t half as good). He really captured–and even looked a great deal like–the essence of the fighting professor.

It bears noting that I am a great admirer of Chamberlain’s, and also a fan. The very first article on the Civil War that I ever wrote–awful as it was–was a biographical sketch of Chamberlain’s life entitled “The Fighting Professor”. I have a real war-time autograph of Chamberlain’s hanging on the wall of my office (from February 1863, signed with the rank of lieutenant colonel), framed with the Dale Gallon print Hold at All Costs, a depiction of Chamberlain’s defense of Little Round Top. I also own Don Troiani’s Bayonet, a depiction of the charge of the 20th Maine at the climax of the fighting for Little Round Top.

Having said all of that, it never ceases to amaze me as to the completely disproportionate amount of attention that Chamberlain receives vis-a-vis others who also made equally important contributions to the Civil War. There’s no doubt that this is the result of the focus on him in both Shaara’s book and Turner’s film. There’s also the fact of the compelling story: professor of rhetoric, no military training whatsoever, becomes Medal of Honor winning hero who accepts the Confederate surrender at Appomattox. There’s also the point that Chamberlain unquestionably had a true gift for the English language. His writings–in florid Victorian prose–are nevertheless some of the finest writings I have ever read.

Because of the combination of all of these factors, and probably others I haven’t even thought of, Chamberlain receives a very disproportionate amount of attention for his exploits. It’s reached the point that Chamberlain is almost treated like a saint, and the 20th Maine’s spur becomes the destination of an almost religious pilgrimage. It means that, much as I admire Chamberlain, I’m sick to death of hearing about him, and it caused me, a number of years ago, to jestingly dub him St. Joshua of Joshua Top. In the first year or two after the release of the movie, the 20th Maine’s spur was so crowded with people searching for Buster Kilrain’s name on the regimental monument that you almost couldn’t move up there. Fortunately, as the years have passed, this has subsided a bit, but the whole St. Joshua of Joshua Top mentality survives. It never ceases to amaze me.

While any attention to the Civil War is a good thing, this whole St. Joshua of Joshua Top phenomenon unfortunately means that other, equally deserving heroes, such as Brig. Gen. George Sears Greene, whose defense of Culp’s Hill had greater military significance than did Chamberlain’s defense of Little Round Top, have been largely shunted into history’s dustpan, largely forgotten, and certainly not receiving the credit they deserve. Is it right? No, it definitely is not right. Is it understandable? Yes, it is. Is it unfortunate? Absolutely. Can anything be done about it? Sadly, probably not. As long as people’s first impressions of the Battle of the Gettysburg continue to result from either Shaara’s book or Turner’s movie adaptation of it, this unfortunate phenomenon will continue on unabated.

And it means that equally worthy and deserving soldiers will continue to be overlooked in favor of St. Joshua of Joshua Top. It also means that equally important and interesting spots, such as Culp’s Hill, where the Union truly was saved, go largely unvisited and are often deserted. What’s wrong with this picture?

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This is another in my periodic series of profiles of forgotten cavalrymen.

Today is the 142nd anniversary of the death of one of my very favorite figures of the Civil War, Confederate Brig. Gen. William Edmonson “Grumble” Jones. If ever there was an individual who earned and deserved a particular nickname, it was Jones.

Grumble Jones had earned his nickname—he was irascible and prone to complaining. However, the Confederate cavalry chieftain, Maj. Gen. J.E.B. Stuart respected him. Although he greatly disliked Grumble Jones, Stuart nevertheless called him “the best outpost officer in the army.” Stuart also praised Jones’ “marked courage and determination”, indicating a grudging respect for Jones’ abilities. At the same time, however, when Jones was promoted to brigade command in October 1862, Stuart resisted the promotion, writing to his wife Flora, “…I hope he will be assigned to the Infantry, I don’t want him in the Cavalry, and have made a formal statement to that effect.” Returning Stuart’s disdain, Jones referred to Stuart as “that young whippersnapper.”

William Edmonson Jones was born on the Middle Fork of the Holston River in Washington County, Virginia on May 9, 1824. After graduating from Emory and Henry College in Virginia in 1844, Jones matriculated at West Point. Graduating twelfth out of forty-eight in the Class 1848 (which included John Buford), Jones spent his entire career in the Regular Army in the mounted arm, serving on the frontier in the Regiment of Mounted Rifles until his resignation in 1857. He spent much of his career in the Mounted Rifles fighting Indians and serving garrison duty in the Pacific Northwest. After leaving the Army, he spent the next several years as a reclusive farmer, living a lonely and bitter life. He had not always been so short-tempered. His young wife was washed from his arms in a shipwreck shortly after their marriage, and Jones never recovered from her loss. He grew “embittered, complaining and suspicious” as a result, quarreling with his fellow officers frequently. Eschewing the flamboyant style of dress and the exaggerated mannerisms adopted by Stuart, he was a plain dresser with a legendary talent for profanity. Jones was an extremely strict disciplinarian whose men respected but did not love him. While not a likeable man, Grumble Jones was definitely a fighter. His fellow cavalry general, Brig. Gen. John D. Imboden, wrote that Jones “ was an old army officer, brave as a lion and had seen much service, and was known as a hard fighter. He was a man, however, of high temper, morose and fretful…He held the fighting qualities of the enemy in great contempt, and never would admit the possibility of defeat where the odds against him were not much over two to one.”

At the outbreak of the Civil War, Jones formed a cavalry company, and was elected its captain, serving under J.E.B. Stuart in the First Manassas Campaign. He became colonel of the 1st and later the 7th Virginia Cavalry and was promoted to brigadier general on September 19, 1862. Shortly thereafter, Jones assumed command of the veteran cavalry brigade formerly commanded by the legendary Brig. Gen. Turner Ashby, one of the best brigades of cavalry in either army. Ashby, a gifted horseman and leader, was the first commander of the 7th Virginia. Promoted to command of Thomas J. “Stonewall” Jackson’s cavalry during the 1862 Shenandoah Valley Campaign, Ashby performed well during the Campaign until he was killed in action in June 1862. In his short tenure as a commander, Ashby left his mark on his brigade. Proud and dashing, Ashby embodied the attitude of the beau sabreur. The brigade Jones inherited consisted entirely of Virginians, the 6th, 7th, 11th, and 12th Virginia Cavalry Regiments and the 35th Battalion of Virginia Cavalry, all veteran troopers accustomed to hard marching and hard fighting.

Jones’ men did splendidly at Brandy Station, where, badly outnumbered by the division of his West Point classmate John Buford, they held their own in a day of intense fighting. As the Gettysburg Campaign commenced, Jones’ men held the critical gaps in the mountain ranges on either side of the Shenandoah Valley on the march north, and screened the Army of Northern Virginia’s rear guard during the advance into Pennsylvania. As the three-day-long battle began at Gettysburg, Jones’ brigade crossed the Potomac River at Williamsport, Maryland, and camped near Greencastle, Pennsylvania. Two units of the brigade were left behind as the rest of the brigade advanced north. The 12th Virginia remained in the lower Valley to watch the Federal troops garrisoned at Harper’s Ferry, and the 35th Battalion was temporarily attached to the Confederate cavalry brigade of Brig. Gen. Albert G. Jenkins in the Confederate advance to the Susquehanna River. The balance of Jones’ troopers remained behind the Confederate lines, guarding the trains during the first two days of the battle.

On July 3, Jones’ Brigade fought a vicious battle with the 6th U.S. Cavalry at Fairfield, Pennsylvania. They then fought the Regulars again at Funkstown a few days later. When the retreat ended, Jones’ men had a brief respite they then had a sharp fight with Buford again at Second Brandy Station on August 1, 1863, and again on October 10, 1863 in Third Brandy Station. That fall, Jones and Stuart had a final falling out, and Jones was court-martialed for insulting Stuart. Robert E. Lee intervened, and Jones was transferred to the western part of Virginia.

There, he cobbled together a brigade of cavalry and campaigned in eastern Tennessee during the winter and spring of 1864. In the summer of 1864, Jones assumed command of the Confederate forces in the Upper Shenandoah Valley, and, while personally leading a charge at the Battle of Piedmont on June 5, 1864, he was killed in action, a fitting end for a fighting general.

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I’m back from Gettysburg. It was a fun but terribly exhausting weekend. We were really kind of overprogrammed for the time we were there. Friday was an incredibly long day. We were up at 5:00 AM for a 6:00 departure to take Dale Gallon to tour the Trevilian Station battlefield. It took 3 1/2 hours to get down there, we spent a little more than 3 hours on the battlefield, and then another 3 1/2 hours to drive back to Gettysburg. All told, it was nearly a twelve hour day, followed by another very long day yesterday. Today, I had a six hour drive home after about four hours of battlefield stomping.

One thing really struck me during my time at Gettysburg this trip, something I’ve never really noticed before. The National Park Service is spending oodles of money at Gettysburg cutting down trees that have grown up there where there weren’t trees during the war, and in re-planting some historic tree lots, such as orchards, that were there at the time of the battle but which have been lost over the years. Now, don’t get me wrong–I love the vistas and I love being able to see things the way they were at the time of the battle. Acres and acress of trees have been cleared out between Devil’s Den and the Slyder farm, which opens the place up and gives an entirely different perspective on things. I do love it.

The park is also spending vast amounts of money restoring historic fence lines. Worm rail fences are being restored, as well as plank and board fences that were torn down or eliminated decades ago are being rebuilt and replaced on the field. Again, the restoration of these fences so as to restore the historic appearance of the battlefield is important work, and I don’t mean to downplay it. However, none of it does a thing to preserve an inch of threatened land, and none of it does a thing to preserve more of our heritage for future generations.

At the same time, there are stark contrasts.

Late on the afternoon of July 2, a nasty little cavalry engagement took place at Hunterstown, about six miles from Gettysburg. The combatants were Custer’s Michigan Cavalry Brigade (supported by Elon Farnsworth’s brigade) and Wade Hampton’s Confederate cavalry brigade. Until about five years ago, the battlefield was pretty much completely pristine. Only one small Twentieth Century structure had been built on the battlefield, and the rest was open farm fields with period homes and barns.

About five years ago, a power plant was built on a portion of the battlefield. It’s huge, and it’s one of the worst eyesores I’ve ever seen. In an effort to try to screen the thing, they built huge earthen berms in front of it. All of it has dramatically changed the lay of the land. However, the core of the battlefield remains intact and still pristine. To my great sadness, I learned today that there is apparently a movement afoot to built cheesy little tract homes on a portion of the battlefield.

There have been a number of efforts to try to acquire preservation easements for the pristine ground, all of which have been rebuffed. I am scared that this little gem of a battlefield will be obliterated in the name of progress much sooner than later, and there doesn’t seem to be much of anything that anyone can do about it.

The contrast between the failure to preserve this ground and the huge sums of money that are being spent on tree cutting and planting and on restoring historic fence lines–purely cosmetic stuff–is stark. Then there are national parks like the Petersburg National Battlefield where there is essentially no budget at all for anything. Several years ago, Chris Calkins told me that he had to limit visitors to making ten copies at the park library because that was all the budget he had available for that sort of thing. Again, the contrast is shocking. All of this really makes me wonder whether the folks responsible for this stuff really and truly have their priorities straight. I don’t think they do.

Is it ego run amok? Is the ego of the Gettysburg superintendent so immense that he needs to create this sort of a vast monument to himself?

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The last time that I was in Gettysburg was in September, about a week after I began this blog. That means it’s been about eight months, which, for me, is a very long time not to go there. I’ve been getting itchy for another visit, and it’s going to occur this weekend.

I have been a member of the Gettysburg Discussion Group, which is the granddaddy of all on-line discussion groups, since 1996. I served as a member of the board of trustees, and I’ve always hovered around the nucleus of the group. Sometimes, when I have time and interest in a given topic, I participate a lot. Other times, rarely at all. However, it’s been a great group to belong to, and I’ve made some great friends as a consequence of my participation.

Once per year, typically the first weekend in June, the GDG has a muster in Gettysburg. Several months ago, Dennis Lawrence (who along with his brother Bob, owns the group) asked me if I would lead a tour for them this year, which I haven’t done in four or five years. As I’ve been itching for a visit to Gettysburg, I agreed. J. D. and I are leading the dawn (7:00 a.m.) tour on Saturday morning, of the traditional interpretation of Farnsworth’s Charge. So, I’m off tonight, with a six hour drive to get there. It will be great to scratch that itch and get to see some old friends in the process.

I also get a special treat tomorrow. Some weeks ago, a fellow named Robert Poirier, who wrote an excellent book on the role played by graduates of Norwich University of Vermont in the Civil War, contacted me via the comments to this blog. One of those alumni was Lt. Edward B. Williston, a talented horse artillerist who won a richly-deserved Medal of Honor for his stellar performance on the second day of the Battle of Trevilian Station (one of eight Union Medals of Honor in those two bloody, brutal days of fighting). Bob’s letter informed me that Norwich had commissioned the artist Dale Gallon to paint a scene of Williston performing the deeds that earned him the Medal of Honor. From my book on Trevilian Station, Bob knew that I had a copy of Williston’s Medal of Honor file from the National Archives, so he wrote to inquire as to whether he could get a copy of it to pass on to Dale for his use in doing the painting. I called him back and said sure. In the process, I told him that if Dale wanted to see the battlefield, I would be happy to show it to him.

To make a long story short, tomorrow, JD and I are taking Dale Gallon and a representative of Norwich to Trevilians to tour the battlefield, and, in particular, so I can show them the specific ground where Williston deployed and fought his guns so magnificently that day. The last time that I was on the battlefield at Trevilian was at the 140th anniversary event in June 2004, so it’s been just a few days shy of two years since my last visit. Since then, the Trevilian Station Battlefield Foundation has acquired more land, and more of the Virginia Civil War Trails markers that I wrote have been installed, so I’m really looking forward to the visit. I also need to shoot some photos of the battlefield for the new edition of the book that will be published by Bison Books, which is part of the University of Nebraska Press.

I told Dale that my fee for doing this for him was a personally signed copy of the print when it’s done, and I’m looking forward to adding it to my collection. There’s a place waiting for it here in my office. He agreed. Dale’s also a good guy, and it will be fun spending a day with him. Previously, I sent him a copy of the book and a copy of the General’s Tour article that I did for Blue and Gray Magazine several years ago. He’s visited the field once on his own, but wanted me to show him around. Because Williston’s actions can’t be understood in a vacuum, I will show them the whole battlefield, including where Williston’s guns were deployed on the first day of the battle, so that the second day is placed in its proper context.

Those of you who know me, know that I have been involved in the preservation and interpretation of this battlefield for years. I volunteered to help the TSBF when it was in its infancy and nothing more than a few well-intentioned locals trying to figure out how to save their battlefield. When the book was finished, I donated my research files to them to use as the nucleus for a research library when they eventually build a visitor’s center someday. Consequently, it’s become a very special place for me, and it’s been my honor and privilege to help to preserve the legacy of this hallowed ground for generations to come. Of all of the things that I’ve done with respect to preservation, nothing has meant more to me than being asked to write the text for those Virginia Civil War Trails markers that now adorn the battlefield. If anything, they are my permanent and lasting legacy, and certainly my permanent contribution to the Battle of Trevilian Station. I swell with pride every time I see them, but at the same time, it’s quite humbling to know that I was the one asked to write them, and that those markers are the first (and sometimes only) impression that visitors to the battlefield get.

I will be home Sunday night. If time permits, I will try to post something between now and then, but don’t be surprised if I don’t. We’ve got a pretty packed schedule.

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