Altogether Fitting and Proper: Civil War Battlefield Preservation in History, Memory, and Policy, 1861–2015 by Timothy B. Smith (review)

A reader might wonder if a book on battlefield preservation is really necessary, since shopping malls and designer boutiques seem to draw more public interest than historic sites. In the "Foreword" to this fine study, Jim Lighthizer, the president of the Civil War Trust, provides an eloquent response. "Preserved battlefields," he declares, "serve as outdoor classrooms where Americans learn important lessons necessary for the preservation of our democracy from generation to generation." Once the grounds where earlier generations of Americans battled so fiercely to determine the nation's future are lost, they "can never be fully recovered" (p. xiv).

Timothy Smith analyzes the evolving process of battlefield preservation, from the bombardment of Fort Sumter through the modern day. A historian at the University of Tennessee-Martin and a former park ranger, Smith acknowledges that he cannot detail the preservation efforts at each of the thousands of Civil War battlefields. Instead, he offers a "general overview of the preservation process and the people involved, using as many specific examples of battlefield preservation as possible" (p. xvii).

Civil War veterans took a lead in preserving the sites of their youth, but the efforts were fraught with difficulties. The physical landscape had often changed, helping to cloud memories. Lingering sectional animosities also drew sometimes sharp words between former Yankees and Rebels. Yet, by the early twentieth century, these men had helped to establish military parks at Chickamauga, Antietam, Gettysburg, Vicksburg, and other battlefields. Many Union and Confederate veterans holding national and state office loosened external funding toward protecting these lands from possible destruction.

The 1920s brought new challenges to the preservation effort, with Civil War battlefields losing some of their hold on the public imagination. The nation had gained a new generation of military veterans after 1917, with their own stories of heroism and sacrifice. Other Americans simply wanted to enjoy the Jazz Age. The War Department took the lead in designating Civil War sites to preserve, based on historic importance. That attention helped to designated several different battlefields for national upkeep, including Atlanta, Spotsylvania, and Petersburg.

The Great Depression actually helped to spur preservation efforts, because the federal government transferred many historic sites to the stewardship of the National Park Service (NPS). The NPS often received more promises than actual funding from the federal government, but did benefit from New Deal agencies. Labor from the Civilian Conservation Corps and the Public Works Administration helped to build new visitor centers and other public amenities on the battlefields. Racial segregation was the norm in these projects—as it was across much of the United States at the time—with separate living quarters and recreational spaces for the black and white laborers.

Amid great initial hope, the Civil War Centennial proved disappointing for battlefield preservation at the federal level. The ugly push-back against civil rights marred many commemoration ceremonies. According to Smith, at a program at Appomattox Court House in 1965, "Southerners attended, but they only cheered on two occasions during the program: when Robert E. Lee's great grandson was introduced and when the U.S. Marine Corps Band played 'Dixie'" (p. 151). Public enthusiasm for the Centennial helped to spark state-led preservation efforts, however, and creation of parks at, among other locations, South Mountain, Maryland, and Mansfield, Louisiana.

The fifty years that have followed the Civil War Centennial have brought lows and highs to the preservation effort, from less federal monies during the 1980s, to, in recent years, greater attention to the causes and results of the war at visitor centers and museums. In this well-written and deeply researched book, Smith makes clear why the preservation efforts matter for, in his words, "the ground we cherish so deeply as Americans" (p. 229).