In a 1973 letter to the chairman of the House Subcommittee on National Parks and Recreation, Civil War historian Bruce Catton wrote: "Parks like [Manassas] are of profound importance. They are not obtrusive tourist traps, clamoring for attention, baited by the arts of honky-tonk; they are just quiet bits of land preserving the memory of scenes where heroic men of the north and south displayed a bravery, a devotion and a capacity for self-sacrifice that still have the power to move us." Catton's intention was to justify incorporating the Marriott tract into the Manassas National Battlefield Park, but his words reflect the reasons driving the federal government to expand the battlefield park's boundaries in the 1970s. The Park Service recognized that the 1954 boundary legislation had been effective in incorporating key tracts principally associated with the First Battle of Manassas. The experience of the Marriott theme park proposal accentuated the need to acquire the remaining historically significant lands before they were lost and to obtain buffers to shield the heart of the park from the threat of "honky-tonk" development. [1]

In the embattled route toward park expansion, the Park Service made two key decisions that would have long-lasting repercussions in the field of historic preservation. First, the Service decided to exclude the Marriott tract, including Stuart's Hill where General Robert E. Lee had his headquarters, from consideration. This left the door open for future development on the tract; later proposals would electrify a large and politically influential preservation-minded public. [2] Second, the Park Service failed to present a unified policy with respect to Stuart's Hill. Although NPS historians spoke of the land's importance for interpretive efforts, the Service made no official pronouncements on acquisition. Confusion resulted, with the Park Service sometimes working at cross-purposes to itself. The delay in boundary expansion cost the federal government dearly because of the steadily rising property values and the inability to address effectively future development proposals. [3]

Why Save More Lands?

Richard Hoffman realized the value of adjusting the battlefield park's boundaries soon after arriving in 1973. Three days before he officially took up his post as superintendent, he wandered the park as an anonymous tourist. Unable to find clear demarcations of where the protected areas ended and private property began, he concluded that the park had a "lousy boundary line." In some cases, national park land appeared to be private because the Park Service had leased the land to local residents to farm. This arrangement was beneficial for the Park Service as it allowed the land to be used as it was during the Civil War. Local residents also benefited from the opportunity to produce and sell more agricultural products. In Hoffman's view, though, interpretation suffered. Because many visitors could not distinguish between park land and private property, they did not explore all the park's resources. [4]

Hoffman's concern over the park's boundaries fed into additional worries over park interpretation and resource management. This combination of factors led him to support boundary expansion legislation. For example, he knew from his historians that many of the park's natural resources did not match the lay of the land at the time of the two Civil War battles. A solid stand of pine trees had grown up near the embankment of the unfinished railroad and obscured the clear view that had existed during Second Manassas. A diorama in the visitor center, which showed Confederate troops fighting Union forces with stones in open fields, emphasized the incongruity between the historical facts and existing reality. Hoffman decided to tear down the pine trees, but he found himself locking horns with Annie Snyder. [5]

Snyder, "just madder than hops" about the prospect of losing the beautiful forest, demanded that Hoffman defend his decision. After showing her the diorama, Hoffman took Snyder to the unfinished railroad and explained that the pine trees contradicted the history of the battle told in the visitor center. Snyder agreed that the pine trees presented visitors with historical inaccuracies, but she also felt the trees were valuable to the community. The tall stand of pines offered a natural barrier, separating residential areas and the park from traffic along the major roads. The trees cleaned the air of pollutants and acted as deterrents to erosion. The tall dense pine trees were also aesthetically pleasing, blocking views of the urban developments slowly moving into the area and providing a parklike atmosphere. Snyder wanted to preserve some of these qualities and sought a balance between strict historical accuracy and local interests. She asked Hoffman if he would "thin" the trees, and Hoffman responded by encouraging her to work with him on a mutually agreeable resource management plan. As the tree-cutting example suggests, Snyder's park advocacy encompassed the needs of both historic preservationists and park neighbors. She had stated in the 1969 House hearings on the national cemetery that the Manassas National Battlefield Park had a value to historical purists who wanted to see the woods and pastures "precisely as they were" during the battles and to urban dwellers who wanted to "hike, picnic, ride horseback, or simply enjoy" the open space. [6]

This dual-purpose view of the battlefield park was shared by others, and this became apparent as Hoffman met more residents, including Gilbert LeKander, and learned of their concerns. LeKander had joined Snyder in opposing the 1969 national cemetery proposal and had spoken against the Marriott theme park at a 1973 congressional hearing. The completion of Interstate 66 brought suburban developments to the once quiet town of Manassas, of which the Marriott theme park and office complex proposal was only the most visible example. Longtime residents like Snyder and LeKander wanted to preserve the rural feeling of their community and protect the historical associations of the battlefield park. Before the Marriott proposal, most of the land along the park's boundaries had been farmed. With Marriott came the prospect of twentieth-century office buildings, entertainment complexes, and shopping centers built up to the edges of the park. From Snyder's and LeKander's point of view, these intrusions jarred the historical sensibility and disrupted the open feeling of the landscape. For Hoffman, whose principal task was park protection, the proposed construction threatened the park's integrity and highlighted the importance of acquiring all significant land before the opportunity was lost forever. [7]

Manassas boundary expansion was under consideration in 1971 when the Department of the Interior sought a ""less cumbersome means" than individual legislation to obtain increases in appropriation ceilings and to adjust boundaries for a range of parks. Interior proposed umbrella legislation that would allow the Park Service to meet the conditions expressed in each national park unit's authorizing legislation in a timely fashion. Senate Subcommittee Chairman Alan Bible (D-Nev.) spearheaded the congressional effort to obtain passage of this legislation. He asked the Park Service to review its park units and list those areas needing adjustments. The National Capital Regional Office, which soon afterwards obtained jurisdiction over the Manassas National Battlefield Park, recommended that Congress extend the Manassas park boundaries. These proposed changes shed further light on what became the agency's implied policy on the Manassas battlefield park, which combined historical idealism with the practicality of dealing with twentieth-century intrusions. Reflecting historical purity, the boundary adjustments included extending the park's western border to in corporate lands known to have significance to the Second Battle of Manassas, including Stuart's Hill and the Brawner Farm, located on either side of Lee Highway west of Groveton Road—Featherbed Lane. Another historically informed boundary change included Stony Ridge, where Jackson's lines fought in Second Manassas. National Capital Region officials recommended acquiring the Wheeler Farm, both for its historic value and its ability to protect the southeastern corner of the park. From the pragmatic side, the regional office suggested placing a buffer of 750 feet along Bull Run in Fairfax County and a scenic easement on the Bacilli tract, which was located near the northeast section of the park and was being threatened with residential development. The Park Service also recommended buying land around Stone Bridge in Fairfax County to remove a gas station. [8]

When the National Capital Region voiced its recommendations in 1971, the idea of incorporating Stuart's Hill into the battlefield park met with instant opposition from the county supervisors. Prince William County officials had identified the area along both sides of I-66 between Gainesville and Route 234 as a regional employment center and did not want its economic plans thwarted by the Park Service. Wanting to ensure the economic health of the county, the board of county supervisors favored development that was consistent with the county's master plan. [9]

The county's opposition to the recommended boundary changes forced the Service to reconsider. In an effort to avoid stalling the entire park bill under consideration by Senator Bible's committee, the agency dropped Manassas, allowing for passage of the umbrella legislation in 1972. Resolution of what lands should be added to the Manassas battlefield park remained. The decision centered on the controversial Stuart's Hill, especially after Marriott announced its intention in 1973 to build the Great America theme park on that tract, a proposal the economic-minded Prince William County officials warmly embraced.

Historical idealism did not offer a clear-cut position for the Park Service to follow. Former superintendent Wilshin described Stuart's Hill as crucial for understanding the events of Second Manassas. Bearss, a recognized expert within the Park Service on the Civil War, wrote in 1973 that the Marriott theme park would occupy "key and critical sites" associated with the Second Battle of Manassas. Yet, as other historians pointed out, blood was not shed on the land in any significant military actions. How should the Park Service evaluate this tract? Was it sufficient to preserve only lands where soldiers died in battle? Or did the Park Service have a responsibility to provide visitors with lands that help explain why certain military actions were taken? If the latter, then what definable limits existed for the Park Service to preserve historically significant lands that had not seen significant battle action? In the 1970s the Park Service avoided addressing these questions directly; instead it followed an implied policy of what could be called pragmatic authenticity, seeking a balance between historical significance and practical considerations about local land use. Areas marked for inclusion had either seen fighting during the two Civil War battles or would act as a buffer to outside development. The agency's official policy stayed undefined, leaving open the opportunity for negotiation as events unfolded. [10]

Finding a Congressional Ally

Opposition from the Prince William Board of County Supervisors squashed the Park Service's initial foray into boundary expansion in the early 1970s. Still committed to the idea of preserving more lands at Manassas, LeKander and Snyder decided to take another tack. In late 1974 they approached Stan Parris (R-Va.), their U.S. Representative who had recently lost his bid for reelection, and asked that he introduce a bill in Congress. Parris agreed and submitted a bill that LeKander helped draft. No action resulted, but, as Snyder later remembered, "at least we got it on the books." Then in early 1975, Snyder and LeKander, both lifelong Republicans, "swallowed [their] pride" and talked to their new congressman, Democrat Herb Harris. [11]

What Snyder and LeKander quickly discovered was that Herbert E. Harris II, a transplanted Midwesterner, had gained a great appreciation for history and the environment while living in Virginia. Born and raised in Kansas City, Missouri, Harris had moved to the Washington, D.C., area in 1951 and practiced international and antitrust law. He became active in Fairfax County politics, helping to establish community parks and preserve green space, and served on that county's board of supervisors from 1968 to 1974. From there, he won election to the U.S. Congress. Although he had established himself on the East Coast, Harris never lost the sense of fascination in history "that you can only get as a Midwesterner [who] comes to Virginia." He found that many Virginians took much of this history and "precious, precious heritage" for granted because they had been near it for so long. The longer Harris lived amidst the past, the more committed he be came to its preservation. [12]

Snyder and LeKander did not know what to expect in their initial meeting with Harris. They had some trepidation about how they would be received by their Democratic congressman, especially since they had lobbied for the Republican Parris during the election campaign. But their ardent belief in saving the battlefield park and the surrounding countryside from outside development guided their presentation and made a convert of Herb Harris. All three shared an interest in preserving historical areas and open space. Harris later admitted that "it's impossible to talk to people like [Snyder and LeKander] without being instilled with the same fervor that they have." He responded to their plea in a very businesslike fashion and sent one of his legislative aides to the park to investigate. What Harris learned convinced him to act, first by proposing a boundary expansion bill to Congress and then by addressing a revived attempt to build a national cemetery at the battlefield park. [13]

In June 1975 Harris introduced legislation that authorized the Department of the Interior to acquire 1,500 acres for the Manassas National Battlefield Park. Lands listed for acquisition included the Brawner Farm, which was located north of the Marriott tract along Lee Highway and was the site of the opening engagement of the Second Battle of Manassas. The Harris bill extended the southern park boundary to Interstate 66 by designating tracts for purchase or for scenic easements. Harris included lands near the Stone Bridge to protect this structure from commercial development. Privately owned tracts designated for inclusion under the 1954 boundary legislation had scenic easements placed on them. [14]

Harris adopted a pragmatic approach and did not include Stuart's Hill, which was then owned by the Marriott Corporation, in his legislative proposal. Snyder and LeKander had argued for its incorporation, noting its historic significance to Second Manassas and the threat the Marriott development posed to the park and its rural surroundings. Strident opposition from the Prince William Board of County Supervisors, however, kept Snyder's and LeKander's pleas at bay. The county saw the Marriott land as an important source of tax revenues and refused to support its transfer to a tax-exempt status under the federal government. This unremitting resistance, along with opposition by Marriott, forced Harris, like the National Park Service in 1973, to remove Stuart's Hill from consideration. Harris realized he would not succeed in adding any new land to the battlefield park if he refused to compromise on the Marriott land. [15]

With Stuart's Hill excluded, Harris proceeded to guide his bill toward law. He held public meetings and obtained input from the Prince William County historical commission. Harris oversaw its passage by the Committee on Interior and Insular Affairs and the full House, which sent it to the Senate as part of a park omnibus bill. There Harris encountered opposition from Sen. William Scott. As the representative for Virginia's Eighth Congressional District in the late 1960s, Scott had proposed building a national cemetery at the Manassas park. Responding to concerns raised in the local community, Scott opposed including some of the lands designated in the 1975 Harris bill. Harris worked with Scott to obtain a compromise bill and achieved some success. Scott reportedly agreed to the adjustments just as the congressional session ended, but he placed a hold on the legislation and left for the Philippines. When contacted overseas, Scott refused to lift the hold, and Harris's first attempt at Manassas battlefield park boundary expansion came to naught. Over the next five years, Harris tried three more times, always balancing historicity and practical exigency. [16]

As the 1975 expansion bill fizzled, the idea of placing a national cemetery at the Manassas National Battlefield Park resurfaced. The need to find an extension to Arlington remained pressing, and in 1975 the U.S. Veterans Administration (VA) revisited the idea of using the Manassas battlefields. The Park Service reluctantly agreed to have soil tests done at the park, and these determined it would make an "outstanding national cemetery." Veterans Administration representatives put Manassas at the top of their list for a cemetery, noting its proximity to Washington, D.C., and its gently undulating, aesthetically pleasing landscape of woods and open lands. Its historic associations with past military conflicts and the fact that the land was federally owned added to its attractiveness. [17]

Realizing that the VA's recommendations to Congress might have sufficient weight to win, the Park Service reiterated former director Hartzog's 1969 statement on the cemetery question and unequivocally refused further consideration of the park's land for the cemetery. Citing a 1975 Suitability/Feasibility Study that Park Superintendent Hoffman had completed, Director Gary Everhardt argued that the cemetery would destroy the historic scene of the fields and woods, which aided in the interpretation and understanding of the two Manassas battles. The Park Service considered the alteration of the historic sites by the cemetery as inappropriate to the mission of the national park. Everhardt and the secretary of the interior, as Hartzog had done, encouraged the VA to buy land adjacent to the national park. The Park Service's firm stand on the national cemetery proposal shows the limits of its historical pragmatism. The NPS may have been willing to compromise on development outside existing park boundaries, but the battlefield park itself continued to focus on history and interpretation. [18]

The Veterans Administration might have let the issue die and considered an alternative site, but some members of Congress favored the Manassas National Battlefield Park for the cemetery. During hearings in November 1975, Rep. George Danielson (D-Calif.) argued that the land proposed for the cemetery did not serve "any useful purpose" in the Civil War. He viewed Second Manassas, which took place on the land slated for the cemetery, as a rerun of the First Battle of Manassas. Danielson also defended the national cemetery proposal on the grounds that not many visitors came to the park and thus the area would be better served as a cemetery. He offered to "sound out" his colleagues on the appropriate committees to pursue the Manassas site. One person who supported Danielson's position was Senator Scott. [19]

Within this climate of opinion, Snyder and LeKander pressed Harris to come to the battlefield park's aid. In a letter to Harris, LeKander argued that the national cemetery threat to Manassas was as ludicrous as placing "Disneyland in the heart of Yosemite." For LeKander, the cemetery would destroy the historicity of the battlefield park and bring unwanted development to the area. Harris agreed, but he faced a dilemma. He understood that the Arlington National Cemetery needed an annex soon, and he would "feel great pride" if the new cemetery were located in northern Virginia. But the idea of losing the "precious historical resource" at the Manassas battlefield park also seemed "very wrong." To resolve this conflict, Harris scouted for other suitable locations and found the Marine Corps Base at Quantico, Virginia. Quantico, which LeKander had touted in 1969 and which the VA had rated just below Manassas as a potential site, offered a considerable amount of unused acreage close to a major interstate. Its soil was also suitable for burial purposes. With these favorable characteristics, Quantico seemed the best alternative location for the national cemetery. [20]

Harris acted quickly to secure this site and remove any consideration of the Manassas National Battlefield Park as the place for a national cemetery. In December 1975 he submitted H.R. 11140, which designated 620 acres at Quantico as an annex to Arlington. Harris then went to the public to garner support. In a town meeting at Dumfries, Virginia, on 16 January 1976, Harris heard "not one single voice of opposition or resistance" to his newly proposed bill. Further unified assistance came from a hefty number of local and state organizations and the two local newspapers serving the area. More remarkable, the Prince William Board of County Supervisors voted unanimously on 6 January to adopt a resolution of support. The board recognized that the national cemetery, now slated for land already federally owned, would not adversely affect the county's real estate tax structure. The fact that the county would not have to build additional transportation, water, and sewer services also made Quantico attractive to the supervisors. Congress responded favorably to the broad base of support Harris had amassed and voted to make Quantico a national cemetery. The Manassas National Battlefield Park escaped another threat to its mission of preserving and interpreting Civil War history. [21]

Maneuvering the Roadblocks

With the integrity of the battlefield park assured, Harris reentered the fight for expanded boundaries. His persistence went hand-in-hand with an acknowledgement that he could not achieve his objectives without the cooperation of others. As he stated later, anybody could propose good things; the "job is to figure out how to get it done." For Harris, the job involved listening to the range of interests in the county and in the Park Service and working to find mutually beneficial compromises. Once agreement was reached, Harris believed "you can move and adjust and thereby accomplish very, very fundamental things." [22]

As Harris proceeded to meet these objectives, the management of Manassas battlefield park changed: in 1977 R. Brien Varnado replaced Hoffman as superintendent. Hoffman admitted later that he had been "pretty burned out" over the boundary expansion legislative process and it was time to bring in people with "other talents and ideas and brand new energy" to steer the park. Varnado's appointment represented a return to the previous tradition, the park superintendent being a historian. Varnado, who held undergraduate and master's degrees in history, decided that he could reach more people at a single park than in any classroom and joined the Park Service. Fittingly, Varnado came to Manassas, the location of the first major land battle of the Civil War, after serving as chief of interpretation and resource management at Fort Sumter in South Carolina, where the opening volleys of the Civil War were fired. Manassas was his first superintendency. [23]

While Varnado settled into his new position, Harris conducted meetings with Park Service officials, the board of county supervisors, and community groups in anticipation of redrafting his legislation. In these meetings, he heard arguments on both sides of the preservation issue. Some people believed that enough land had been removed from the county's tax base, while others argued that another $8 million should be spent on land acquisition for the park. Harris came to understand both sides and sought to balance them in his new boundary expansion bill, H.R. 2437, submitted in 1977, calling it a "realistic approach" for assuring preservation of the Manassas battlefields. [24]

This bill delineated the same boundaries as the 1975 bill with two changes. First, H.R. 2437 added an 800-foot-wide scenic easement along the eastern side of Bull Run, in Fairfax County. This buffer zone along the north and east sides of the existing park was in a flood plain that local zoning regulations prohibited from being developed. Harris and the National Park Service, however, believed that the existing land use controls were inadequate for controlling such activities as tree cutting, which would open the park to visual encroachment from development on the other side of the flood plain. Complicating matters was the fact that park land on the western side of Bull Run stood higher than that on the northeast side of the stream, making the 800-foot buffer a minimum for protecting the battlefield park's vistas. The Fairfax Board of County Supervisors unanimously endorsed Harris's proposed buffer zone, thus paving the way for its acceptance during the debate over H.R. 2437. This 800-foot buffer represented Harris's and the Park Service's belief that some lands warranted protection more for their ability to preserve the heart of the historic battlefield than for purely historical reasons. [25]

Second, Harris excluded from the bill the Northern Virginia Community College campus, located south of the park's boundary and north of the Interstate 66—Route 234 interchange. The state of Virginia had first identified this land for the community college in the early 1970s. Then superintendent Hoffman had tried to convince Virginia to consider an alternative location. The Park Service had wanted to acquire the land to protect the southern entrance to the battlefield, the most historic area of the park. The NPS saw the 1977 legislative proposal as one more chance to control development and noise at the community college campus. Recognizing the educational and aesthetic benefits of having a national park site next to the college, state officials proceeded with their plans and built their campus, which included facilities to test aircraft engines. The community college had opened by the time Harris drafted H.R. 2437 in 1977.

After the community college and the Manassas battlefield park became neighbors, the Park Service continued to express concern over the college's impact on the park. To control the expected rise in noise pollution from the engine testing and to restrict the construction of tall buildings, the Park Service asked Congress to incorporate the community college campus into the battlefield park. State officials, who wished to retain control over future developments at the college, protested the Park Service's stance. Harris sought to address this opposition and gain the needed support of the college for his bill. For this reason, he agreed to remove from his revised bill any language that would allow the federal government to direct the affairs of the community college. [26]

Harris's legislation also sought to balance Park Service, county, and community college concerns over the proposed Route 234 bypass, which Prince William County officials planned to build through a corner of the Brawner Farm, a key tract included in H.R. 2437. Since 1964, the county had recognized the need to reroute Route 234 to the west to alleviate traffic congestion between the town of Manassas and the battlefield park. By 1977, county studies reported that more than 6,800 vehicles per day traveled the two-lane Route 234 through the national park and more than 8,000 swelled the four-lane road to the south, heading from I-66 to the town of Manassas. To ensure the future health of residential and commercial development in Prince William County and the town of Manassas, county officials knew they had to alleviate the congestion and improve accessibility. The Route 234 bypass addressed these needs. [27]

Uncertainty over the exact route of the 234 bypass led Harris to leave the subject open in his bill to a mutually derived decision by all relevant parties. The secretary of the interior had jurisdiction to "negotiate and consummate arrangements with appropriate authorities" to reroute or remove roads within the park in an effort to reduce adverse impacts. This language made it possible for both the Park Service and county officials to support this aspect of the bill. To protect the battlefield park's integrity, the Park Service had express authority to participate in local road decisions. And because the bill avoided designating particular tracts of land that would or would not be part of the rerouting, the county continued to have a full range of options available for consideration. The county asked only that the bill's language be clarified so there would be no question of directing the bypass through a corner of the Brawner Farm, if that land became part of the park and if the county determined this route to be the most advantageous for the bypass. Again, Harris showed his willingness to find politically advantageous compromises in an effort to garner support for his bill. [28]

Despite these efforts, Harris still encountered some position. Community college officials expressed their disagreement with the bill's language, fearing that the National Park Service would chose Route 234 at the I-66 interchange once the bypass was completed. The Interior Department gave credence to this interpretation when it indicated in a 27 June 1977 letter to the Senate Committee on Energy and Natural Resources that the federal government wanted to close the existing Route 234 from the I-66 interchange to a point where it joined the bypass to the north. By closing Route 234, the Park Service hoped to reduce intrusive traffic and retain the park's historic integrity. Community college officials reminded Harris that Route 234 was the only mode of access to the college and were "appalled to think that anyone would even think of isolating the Campus from the community it serves." Although Harris emphasized in the hearing that it had "never been the intention" of his bill to close the main artery to the college, this concern fed opposition to the bill. [29]

Department of the Interior authorities aroused further anxieties among residents of the so-called Battlefield Community, a residential area located near Groveton Road south of Lee Highway and next to the Marriott tract. Interior wanted to add a section to Harris's bill that placed scenic easements on this seventy-five-acre subdivision to protect the remaining woods and prevent more intensive use of the land. General Longstreet had staged his historic flanking attack on this land during Second Manassas. Memory Porter, speaking on behalf of the Prince William League for the Preservation of Natural Resources, argued in the congressional hearing that the Battlefield Community touched the land lightly. The expensive single-family homes, set along quiet private streets, nestled into the existing woods. In Porter's opinion, only massive development next door on the Marriott tract would drive these residents to sell their homes and make the scenic easement worthwhile. Since Interior did not request scenic easements over the Marriott land, Porter reasoned that it was unnecessary to use easements on the residential area. Interior's recommendation left the residents in fear that the federal government would eventually convert the easements into fee simple, or land designated for purchase by NPS. E. Clay Hollingsworth, who lived in the Battlefield Community, expressed this concern, worrying that he would be forced to leave the home he had built. Community members had not forgotten the Park Service's previous record of land acquisition, especially during the 1950s and 1960s, when homeowners were forced to leave their lands. [30]

Placement of scenic easements on Sudley Church, located at the northern edge of the battlefield park's boundary, precipitated more protest against Harris's bill. Like the Stone House, an earlier Sudley Church had been converted into a field hospital during the battles, and Harris wanted to preserve the location. Harris agreed with the Park Service, in this case, that the historic significance of the land required some protection, despite objections by parishioners. Church members pointed out that the original building had been replaced twice since the Civil War and no longer represented the structure that had served as a field hospital. In addition, they opposed the easement, fearing that the park might eventually condemn the land. [31]

The concerns raised by the Northern Virginia Community College, the Battlefield Community residents, and Sudley Church could have been addressed by Congress without significantly altering H.R. 2437. Harris's interest in obtaining a politically viable bill made him amenable to clarifying its language and removing the scenic easement on Sudley Church. But a lingering fear that Congress, acting in partnership with the Park Service, would add the Marriott tract to the final bill fueled overwhelming opposition to Harris's proposed legislation.

Prince William County supervisors knew that the Park Service favored acquiring the old Marriott tract. One board member had been informed in Congressman Harris's presence that the Interior Department "intended to have the bill amended to take the entire Marriott tract." Some members of the full congressional committee were sympathetic to the idea of acquiring the Marriott tract, and this made the county supervisors more sensitive to any suggestion of federal acquisition of this land. In addition, in his December 1976 historical evaluation of the Marriott tract, park historian Michael Tennent had written that it contained several areas of major significance to Second Manassas. Tennent believed that the Marriott property provided "potential key sites for proper interpretation" of the battle. The combination of these opinions gave the supervisors reason to continue their opposition to the entire bill, which they formally announced in a 10 May 1977 statement. [32]

Senator Scott listened to this rising furor against H.R. 2437, and he effectively blocked its passage. Rep. Phillip Burton (D-Calif.), coming to Harris's aid, tried to hide the bill in his proposed legislation on parks in New Orleans. Senate staffers spied the reference to Manassas in the New Orleans bill and demanded its exclusion. H.R. 2437 was effectively defeated, and Harris returned to drafting legislation for the next congressional session. The defeat of this bill would have significant financial consequences in later years. [33]

There was one benefit from the delay in passing the park boundary expansion. By the time the Senate had a chance to review H.R. 5048, the 1979 incarnation of the Manassas National Battlefield Park boundary legislation, Scott had retired from the Senate; John William Warner won his seat in the 1978 elections. Senator Warner proved crucial for overcoming the opposition to park expansion. In statesmanlike fashion, Warner sat down with Harris soon after the elections and listened to his argument on the value of acquiring more land for the Manassas National Battlefield Park. Unlike his predecessor, Warner agreed to look at the proposal. Five years of congressional debate had left the local community unable to plan its economic future, and it kept the Park Service uncertain about the park's future development. To resolve this stasis, Warner went to Prince William County residents to learn their concerns. He also sought the advice of Civil War historians to ensure that all historically significant hand be protected in his bill, S. 1857. [34]

Warner's version of the park expansion legislation resolved the long standing resistance of Prince William officials. The Senate bill, which reduced the total acreage for inclusion in the park to 661 acres, versus the 1,681 acres included in H.R. 5048, was attractive to the county supervisors. The supervisors also appreciated the fact that S. 1857 excluded a section of the Brawner Farm, providing a clear right-of-way for the still proposed Route 234 bypass. Warner's bill removed the scenic easement that Harris's bill had placed on the area around the I-66 and Route 234 intersection, allowing the county to develop this land for commercial purposes. Finally, Warner promised that this park expansion would be the last one at Manassas. By this admission, Warner allowed the old Marriott tract, which had caused so much contention in the past, to remain in private hands and available for development. In recognition of these concessions, and particularly because of the exclusion of the Marriott land, the board of county supervisors voted unanimously in 1979 and 1980 to support S. 1857. Prince William County supervisors recognized the importance of adding some historically significant lands to the battlefield park. But they also wanted assurances that these acquisitions would be balanced with the county's need to find diverse avenues for generating tax revenues. Warner's bill fit these requirements. [35]

With this critical support in hand, the Senate passed S. 1857. A conference of both houses produced a final bill that President Jimmy Carter signed on 13 October 1980. Public Law 96-442 looked most like Harris's original proposal, allowing the addition of almost 1,500 acres to the park and increasing the park's size by one-third. Its component parts reflected the input and wishes of many different interests. Key areas designated for purchase in the 1980 legislation included the Wheeler tract in the park's southeastern corner, land to the east of the Stone Bridge, and an area to the west of Route 234 bordering the interstate highway. These had been lands the Park Service wanted either for their historical significance or for their ability to buffer the park. All of the Brawner Farm, a key historic area, came into the park, because the Virginia Department of Highways determined that the proposed bypass would go around the tract. Not wanting to lose county support, the legislation retained a clause giving a right-of-way to the county if at a later date it decided to route the bypass through the Brawner tract. To address the fear of condemnation raised by many park neighbors, P.L. 96-442 specifically forbade the Park Service from acquiring land without the consent of the owner, so long as the land continued to be used in a fashion similar to its use in September 1980. The law included an 800-foot scenic easement along the eastern side of Bull Run and an easement around Sudley Springs Ford, giving the Park Service the added buffering protection it wanted for these sections of the park. Sudley Church, the Battlefield Community, and the commercial district near the I-66 and Route 234 intersection remained outside the authorized boundaries, satisfying the requests of church parishioners, local residents, and the county. The Marriott tract also continued to sit outside the park, a specific bow to Prince William County. [36]

Implementing the Boundary Expansion Law: Brawner Farm

The "third battle" of Manassas, as many people dubbed the park boundary expansion debate, ended with the daunting challenge to acquire the newly designated lands. Varnado, living in the front lines of the park expansion battle, had experienced firsthand the political infighting and turmoil created by park neighbor arguing against park neighbor. Even before the legislation was passed, he accepted a promotion to the National Capital Regional Office Headquarters. Rolland Swain, former unit manager of Lookout Mountain at the Chickamauga-Chattanooga National Military Park and thirteen-year veteran of the Park Service, arrived in September 1980 as the Manassas National Battlefield Park's eighth superintendent. Swain had majored in botany at the University of Colorado, but his own interest in history and his seven years at the Chickamauga and Chattanooga National Military Park gave him the background he needed to address his new assignment. [37]

Swain expected to start land acquisition immediately and drew up a detailed review of the seventy-two designated parcels in preparation for purchase or scenic easement, which had been approved under the 1980 legislation. With the 1980 election of Ronald Reagan and his appointment of James Watt as secretary of the Interior, Swain's orders changed. In February 1981 Watt placed a temporary moratorium on land acquisition in the National Park System, thereby suspending immediate attempts to implement the 1980 Manassas boundary expansion legislation. Watt justified this action by noting that the Park Service did not have sufficient economic and human resources to manage the lands already under its protection. The secretary also needed to address Reagan's call for slashing domestic program budgets while increasing defense spending. [38]

In response to the changed political climate, Swain developed a land protection plan that categorized tracts for acquisition, easement, or special protection. Land protection plans replaced the previous Park Service format of a land acquisition plan. The new plans were a way for the Reagan administration to minimize federal ownership by designating only the most essential tracts necessary to protect park resources for fee simple purchase. Swain's land protection plan necessarily reflected this new attitude and identified only the Brawner Farm and a few small isolated tracts for fee purchase. Most of the Wheeler tract and the land around the Stone Bridge, which P.L. 96-442 designated for fee, were recommended for easement, purchase and sale with covenants, or continued occupancy. With the land protection plan in place, Swain had authority to begin its implementation. [39]

Swain proceeded to hold meetings with the appropriate landowners to purchase those tracts approved for fee simple under the new land protection plan. The Brawner Farm, having top priority, proved difficult to acquire because the approximately seventeen heirs of late owner, Walker Davis, could not agree on a price. Talks stalled until April 1984 when George McDaniel, one of Davis's nephews, informed park temporary historian John Hennessy that he had uncovered friction primers, the small metal tubes used to spark the cannon, during recent relic-hunting trips to the farm. The location of the friction primers, spaced regulation distance apart, indicated the position of Col. S. D. Lee's artillery on 30 August 1862. More important, in July McDaniel and other relic hunters discovered an unmarked battlefield grave containing the skeletal remains of a soldier wrapped in a uniform, several Virginia Military Institute buttons, and a bullet that may have killed the young man. Park Service historians visited the Brawner Farm on several occasions, each time finding "abundant evidence" of relic hunting by friends and relatives of deceased owner Davis. [40]

The removal of artifacts from the Brawner Farm represented a "real and immediate threat" to the historic resources. Items critical to determining the placement of battle lines during Second Manassas were being taken for personal collections and for sale. "Diggers" showed no signs of stopping their activities, with one Davis relative proclaiming he would "take a back-hoe to the trenches" to find more artifacts. The Park Service did not have any legal authority to stop the relic hunting because the land was privately owned. Talks with the heirs continued to leave the selling price undetermined, so Swain recommended that the Park Service file a declaration of taking to allow the courts to decide on a fair price and the federal government to take possession of the land by condemnation. [41]

Determination of a fair price and acquisition of the Brawner property proceeded slowly. The Park Service filed its official request for the declaration of taking in October 1984. Transfer of the land came in May 1985, after both houses of Congress approved the measure. The federal government spent the next year deciding on the price for the hand. During the condemnation proceedings, Hazel/Peterson Companies, a local real estate development firm, purchased the Marriott tract, which sat across the road from the Brawner property, and announced its intention to build a residential office complex. Land prices skyrocketed, and the jury reviewing the Brawner case awarded the heirs $4.2 million in 1986. The government unsuccessfully appealed this decision. The delay in obtaining the Brawner Farm was costly. In 1977 the cost of the 312-acre Brawner Farm tract was estimated at $1.5 million. The need for full and honest dealings with all involved parties was apparent. The Park Service would prove it had learned the lesson when it dealt with the next crisis on the former Marriott land. [42]

The 1980 expansion, which allowed the Park Service to acquire the Brawner Farm and most of the remaining historically significant tracts at the Manassas battlefield park, should have changed the park's boundaries for the last time. Thanks to this legislation, the Park Service largely achieved its objectives. The federal government protected the most significant lands where battle action had occurred. At the same time, the park's borders had been rounded out so that its outer limits shielded the heart of the park from outside development. Modern intrusions continued to plague the park, including the traffic at the Stone House intersection, but the Manassas National Battlefield Park finally represented a viable entity. The Park Service could proceed with its mission to interpret this Civil War landscape for increasing numbers of visitors. Yet the entrance of the Hazel/Peterson Companies on the scene cut short the celebrations by park expansion proponents, and questions over the historical significance of Stuart's Hill, which sat on the far edge of the old Marriott tract, resurfaced.