INTRODUCTION

Historic Preservation and Use

Headlines reading "Storm over Manassas," "Battling over Manassas," "Where Men Fought and Fell," and "Hallowed Ground" could have been published in the aftermath of the two Civil War battles fought in 1861 and 1862 along Bull Run near the rail center at Manassas Junction. These titles recall the great losses suffered by both Federals and Confederates as they confronted each other in the first major land engagement of the war and, later, in the contest that paved the way for Confederate General Robert E. Lee's first invasion of the North. Victory for either side would be hard won and the lessons long remembered. [1]

But these headlines actually refer to a more contemporary battle over Manassas. In January 1988, the Hazel/Peterson Companies aroused nationwide concern for the integrity of the Manassas National Battlefield Park when it announced its intention to add a 1.2-million-square-foot regional shopping mall to an originally proposed office and residential park. This commercial complex would have stood on the historic land where General Lee had established his headquarters during the Second Battle of Manassas. Mall opponents ultimately won this battle in the fall of 1988 when the U.S. Congress employed a rarely used procedure called a "legislative taking" to acquire the contested land, but the fight had been difficult and the cost high, as much as $134 million to buy the 550 acres of land from the Virginia development firm, its president John T. ("Til") Hazel, and the other parties who had begun developing the land. [2]

The controversy over William Center, Hazel/Peterson's name for the disputed tract of land, was quickly followed in 1993 by another national debate centered around the Walt Disney Company and its proposed historic theme park. Disney's America, with its accompanying hotels, campgrounds, residential subdivisions, and commercial complexes, would have been located just 3.5 miles from the Manassas National Battlefield Park. Supporters in state and county government welcomed the expected tax benefits and new jobs that Disney promised. Opponents, who included residents in surrounding counties and a national coalition of historians and preservationists, believed that Disney's theme park would unleash urban sprawl that would choke the battlefield park and leave the remaining open spaces clogged with traffic. National Park Service officials saw a double-edged sword with Disney: a willing negotiator interested in aiding the federal government in its quest to reduce congestion in the battlefield park and a magnetic company that would draw new development and new problems to the surrounding landscape. Disney retreated in the face of sustained protests that threatened the company's cherished public image. The national park waits for the next development proposal.

The controversies surrounding the William Center and Disney's America were the most recent in a long line of "third battles" of Manassas. This history examines the resulting national debates over a federal highway, national cemetery, two theme parks, and land acquisition and boundary expansions for the battlefield park. What should be emphasized is that each of these battles was national in scope. The battlefield park at Manassas is exceptional in this regard. Its location near the nation's capital ensures that even minor disputes reported in local newspapers gain the ear of congressional members. The transformation of its surrounding countryside from rural outpost to suburban center guarantees that development pressures will continue to spawn concern and controversy over the welfare of the park. The battlefield park has inspired a dedicated group of individuals who are not afraid to act on perceived threats to the park. Other sites within the national park system might have encountered similar threats, but few have attracted the same level of national attention.

This national attention has given Americans the opportunity to debate the intricacies of historic preservation and decide what course to support for the future. By telling the stories of the individual preservation struggles at Manassas National Battlefield Park, this book serves two purposes: first, it explains the legacies of park managers, developers, local and state governing boards, and citizens who determined how not one, but by example all national park sites have been protected. Second, this book examines the complexity of the idea of historic preservation as it has been practiced in one national park. Historic preservation has often been defined by its sometimes conflicting roles of protecting a resource and using the resource to educate the public about its significance. The example at Manassas National Battlefield Park makes clear that a wide range of potential and acceptable uses of parkland exists and that standards of acceptability have changed over time.

My central argument in this book is that historic preservation works, but that it requires vigilance and commitment on the part of all Americans. People directly assigned the task of preserving park areas must cast a wide net and actively recruit support from as many sectors of the surrounding population as possible. By building a foundation of support early, many crises as experienced at Manassas battlefield park might be forestalled or minimized. Preservationists will find in this book an understanding of the complexity of the historic preservation concept, which they can then use as a blueprint for combating future preservation battles. Civil War enthusiasts will find a compendium of lessons learned that can be applied to other historic grounds threatened by development or neglect. Policy makers will use this book to understand the motivations of different groups involved in preservation and development issues and so will gain insights on the best approaches of dealing with these diverse interests. Historians of national parks will use this book to augment scholarship on battlefield parks and other historic sites, an area often bypassed in favor of the superlative western national parks. Developers and local planning commissions will find that historic preservation is a serious force in the United States, one that can work to their benefit if they are willing to be partners with preservationists.

The overall status of Civil War battlefield preservation in the United States makes clear the urgency of historic preservation at the close of the twentieth century. The Manassas battlefield park is one of thirty-one existing units in the national park system containing Civil War battlefields. According to the Civil War Sites Advisory Commission, established by public law in November 1990 to assess the status of all Civil War battlefields, only eight of these thirty-one sites are substantially complete in the area preserved through ownership or scenic easement. The remaining twenty-three parks contain only a fraction of the core historic area of each battlefield, leaving the unprotected land open to development. The advisory commission also found that a total of 384 conflicts represented principal battles during the Civil War and thus some protection of the site was justified. Only 58 of these 384 sites of principal conflict fell under National Park Service jurisdiction. The federal government's preservation of the most significant lands associated with the First and Second Battles of Manassas is truly remarkable. [3]

Why Preserve Battlefields?

In September 1861, less than two months after the South won the First Battle of Manassas,[4] Confederates placed a historic marker on the battlefield at Henry Hill in honor of Col. Francis S. Bartow of the Eighth Georgia Infantry. This privately held landscape already evoked powerful memories that compelled individuals to distinguish it from the surrounding farmlands and memorialize Bartow and the other soldiers who had fought and died there. By the 1890s the federal government responded to increasing nationalistic interest expressed by Americans in both northern and southern states to set aside former battlegrounds by creating the Chickamauga and Chattanooga, Shiloh, Gettysburg, and Vicksburg National Military Parks and the Antietam National Battlefield site. Manassas would have to wait until 1940 for its own federal park designation, but in the meantime, a host of reasons for preserving these lands evolved. [5]

One overwhelming reason harkens back to the motivation of Confederate soldiers to establish a marker following First Manassas to commemorate and memorialize the past. Recognizing that many of these battlegrounds were located in rural areas and, with time, might become so overgrown as to vanish from sight, Americans sought to provide permanent identification with enduring monuments, accurately marking the locations where significant stages of the battles occurred. Memorials now scatter the horizon in such parks as Vicksburg and Gettysburg, testaments to nineteenth-century sentiments about the importance of honoring those who died while fighting for their ideals. [6]

With the passage of time after the Civil War, these battlefield parks began to inspire patriotic fervor and a reconciliation of the past while they continued to memorialize. With the abolition of slavery and the restoration of the Union at the close of the Civil War, Americans began to exhibit a nationalistic allegiance that significantly departed from pre-1860s sectionalist attitudes. Establishing further military parks commemorating not just the Civil War but also the American Revolution and other significant wars helped Americans memorialize the roots of their democratic nation. This emerging nationalism also helped salve the emotional and psychological wounds between the sides, symbolically represented in the 1887 Gettysburg veterans reunion when Southerners and Northerners grasped each other's hands on the very battlefield where they had fought against one another. [7]

Military reasons also underlay the federal government's decision to establish Civil War parks. Professional tacticians at the turn of the century, realizing the value of studying troop movements in what they considered the first modern war, documented, mapped, and marked the significant campaigns. These battlegrounds then served as open fields for practicing past tactics and testing new ones. The battlefields of Manassas hosted military maneuvers in 1904 and 1939. Military historians and other enthusiasts have also used the valuable resource of the battlefield landscapes for uncovering additional information on the historic conditions of the battles. [8]

With the closing of the twentieth century, Americans have discovered a host of new reasons for lobbying their congressional representatives to designate further battlefields as national parks. One involves the need for a tangible link to the past that makes these wars real and not just facts to memorize from the history books. By standing on the same ground where Brig. Gen. Thomas J. Jackson repulsed Union troops at First Manassas and received his immortal nom de guerre "Stonewall," individuals gain an invaluable opportunity to link past and present. Cultural values are passed, and lessons are learned. From this experience, many Americans have come to view the battlegrounds as "sacred ground," hallowed by the sacrifices of the soldiers who gave their lives in support of their ideals. [9]

Social reasons serve as significant factors in raising support for battlefield parks among diverse groups. Although the abolition of slavery has always been an acknowledged result of the Civil War, the battlefield parks had largely downplayed its significance. Changing trends in historical interpretation, marked most clearly by the rise of social history in the 1960s and the concerns raised by African Americans and others, led to greater attention to interpretive activities at the parks, taking into account a multiplicity of voices. At the same time, the contributions of individual soldiers—the young, unknown men—have received more notice as history has increasingly adopted a "bottom-up" rather than a 'top-down" perspective. Women, who either remained at home and supported their families while the men fought or who were caught in the battles themselves, have also received a voice. Residents of local communities today have the opportunity to address the emotional sides of their past by having battlefield parks established. Each of these social groups benefits from preservation and examination of battlefields. [10]

The media have also served as an important factor in increasing interest in the Civil War. The federal government held special ceremonies commemorating the one hundredth anniversary of the war during the 1960s and encouraged private companies to incorporate Civil War sites in their advertising. The popular television miniseries Roots and the accompanying book by Alex Haley sparked interest in tracing family ancestries. This genealogical pursuit often led individuals to follow the paths of their relatives on Civil War battlefields. Most recently, Ken Burns's documentary The Civil War for the Public Broadcasting Service reenergized people in learning more about the individual battles.[11]

Finally, environmental and economic reasons make battlefield parks attractive to today's society. Vast expanses of open green space, especially if located near urban centers, provide much-needed room to hike and explore. A piece of the historic countryside is saved, acting as a reminder of what rural America looked like in earlier centuries. As the Disney's America controversy highlighted, these remaining patches of open land must be preserved before urban sprawl overtakes them. The benefits of preservation spread to the local communities, which profit monetarily from increased tourism and associated businesses that accompany park designation. [12] The story of Manassas and its battlefields illuminates the difficult road historic preservation has taken and often won in its fight to save America's historic landscape for posterity.