The Nature of Preservation: The Rise of Authenticity at Gettysburg

When the fighting stops, the smoke and noise fade, and the debris and carrion of war is cleared, the cultural meaning of a specific battle begins to emerge, and may remain dynamic for generations. This evolution of meaning is shaped by veterans' recollections, the inquiry of scholars, the interpretation of filmmakers, or the portrayal of events in museums. In certain cases, though, the very field on which the battle occurred serves as the most important and enduring forum through which a society wrestles with its memory. Gettysburg, where the preservation of the battlefield occurred over 150 years, has proven to be a bellwether for the shifting priorities of different generations of Americans—each of whom believes that he or she has the best interest of the battlefield and its role in history at heart. Particularly because of the profound cultural importance of both the Battle of Gettysburg and the Civil War, this multi-thousand acre site has proven to be an archetype of the American ideal of landscape preservation since 1863. Ensuing generations have sought to define for themselves what it means for a place to be "sacred," when events hold some lasting positive meaning that people wish to remember: a lesson in heroism and sacrifice for the nation. At Gettysburg, the process of preservation has proven a dynamic—and imperfect—tool for setting battlefields aside for future generations.

There have been many stages or eras in the process of preservation and production of "the sacred" at Gettysburg. Although the federal government initially took control, with the dedication of the Soldiers' National Cemetery in November 1863 (the event at which President Abraham Lincoln delivered the Gettysburg Address), private citizens oversaw battlefield preservation in subsequent years through the Gettysburg Battlefield Memorial Association. In 1895, the Department of War, viewing the space as a classroom for studying military strategy, allowed military maneuvers and other activities on the battlefield. In 1933, the battlefield came under the jurisdiction of the National Park Service (NPS) and reoriented its priorities toward satisfying tourists. Pursuing such a dynamic, shifting goal, though, ensured that the NPS years were not the end of the story.

"Preservation," the act of setting a site aside from developments seen as "profane," occurred during each of these phases in Gettysburg's history. During the NPS years, however, the obligation to meet the public's demands for this space challenged the agency in several ways. In particular, the public's growing expectation of historical and environmental authenticity after 1960 required dramatic efforts by the NPS to reenvision its preservation mandate, adjusting it multiple times. By emphasizing the connections between Civil War landscapes and the popular consumption of war memory, this article moves in a very different direction from other environmental histories of the Civil War that are specifically focused on issues related to fighting and resource supply.¹ Instead, this article places Gettysburg at the center of America's evolving culture of historic preservation.

As a form of landscape architecture, the design and management of battlefields demonstrates a unique American priority. The landscape architect Reuben Rainey urges us not to take such sites for granted. Battlefields, he writes, are "not devoted to the preservation of priceless and unique natural

The Copse became the battlefield's first "commemorative landscape" when Confederate veterans convinced John B. Bachelder that this group of trees had been their goal when they charged 15,000 strong on Day 3 of the battle. It has served as an important symbol of national reconciliation after the 1890s. (Courtesy GNMP Archives)

scenery for future generations, nor [are they] intended to provide relief from urban stress. It is a space devoted to the memory of war, an attempt to create a memorial in the classic sense, a place that evokes reflection on the meaning of the tumultuous events that transpired within its precincts." In the rest of world history, Rainey observes, one rarely finds any other nations considering the idea of "an entire battlefield landscape set aside as a memorial." Although Europe is full of monuments to battles...