It's beautiful to watch, hypnotic and mesmerizing, but that's not why the people stand there for so long. They're staring at the grass but they're seeing something else, something that hasn't been there for 133 years. They seldom speak. When they do, it's usually in a hush, nothing loud enough to drown out the drone of the crickets.
This gave me a major, major lump in my throat.
The first time I visited Sharpsburg I remember thinking Even if I didn't come here knowing that this ground saw the bloodiest day in American history, I would somehow know it.
Other than at the Wilderness, there is a solemnity and a profound, indescribable sadness in that place that I've never experienced anywhere before.
The fact that Gettysburg sees six times as many tourists every year (I wasn't aware of that until reading this) is so sad, and so unfortunate. Outside of the battlefield itself (at least that part which hasn't been lost to commercialism), Gettysburg retains very little of the Civil War era pristine-ness.
Sharpsburg is an entirely different story. Stepping onto the battlefield there, one is instantaneously transported back 140 years. It is still pristine. Still quiet. Hallowed by nature and time. It has a mid-nineteenth century 'battle aura'. Then tears inevitably come without warning.
At Sharpsburg, much more than at Gettysburg (for which these words were written), I am always reminded of Joshua Chamberlain’s eloquence:
In great deeds something abides. On great fields something stays. Forms change and pass; bodies disappear; but spirits linger, to consecrate ground for the vision-place of souls. And reverent men and women from afar, and generations that know us not and that we know not of, heart-drawn to see where and by whom great things were suffered and done for them, shall come to this deathless field, to ponder and dream; and lo! The shadow of a mighty presence shall wrap them in its bosom, and the power of the vision shall pass into their souls.
A (far less eloquent :) aside: My three sisters and I (I am the oldest of four girls) are going away on our annual 'sisters' weekend' tonight. (We plan an outing together once a year). This year we decided to simply 'get away' at a friend's cabin upstate for a three-day weekend. We will spend the weekend hiking, swimming in the creek, mountain biking, shooting (three of us enjoy target shooting … the fourth just watches), and just 'hanging out' together.
Because three of the sisters enjoy live rock band music (guess who the odd gal out is :), we have agreed to go to a club in a nearby town tomorrow night (I'll probably bring a book :). But, in order to be fair, they offered to drive four hours north to Fort Ticonderoga, NY on Sunday for me.
It got me to thinking. I have visited every major Civil War battlefield at least once but, other than Valley Forge which is just a hop, skip and jump from our home, I don’t believe I've ever visited any historical Revolutionary War battlefields or encampments (she hangs her head in shame). Sometimes we become so focused on one aspect of our history (for me it's always been the Civil War) that we neglect to take a look at other eras that had just as much, if not more, of an effect on the shaping of our country. I'm looking forward, belatedly, to taking at least a first tiny step toward remedying that on Sunday. :)
(Official end of rambling ... and none too soon ... :)
~ joanie
Aside: We've been on generator power since last night due to the remnants of hurricane Ivan blowing down trees on power lines all over the county. Our house was spared any damage, but a couple of big trees just missed the house when they fell.
My wife and I went out in the rain at first light and cut up a big oak tree that had fallen across our access road. We were trapped!
Isn't it amazing that we "mountain people" seem to be able to recover from a big storm without FEMA </sarcasm>
Oh, and regarding my tagline, Zell Miller saved me ;-)
Thank you for a very eloquent and moving post.
Just got back from the battlefield, you're thoughts are right on the money. Just walking over some of the 12 square miles of battlefield makes you feel like you're standing on some special hallowed ground. Bloody Lane is especially sobering. It's hard to put into words the feeling you get looking at the fields of fire the defenders had and the courage it took for the attackers to cross them.
This is so true joanie. Sam and I took the driving tour today. Stop 8 is the Sunken Road. Now of course because we know the history well, we knew what was coming and still as we parked and walked toward the road we got choked up. We observed the high ground the North held and then walked down into the sunken road and looked up and down the length of it, it was raining but we wanted to walk the length of it. The feeling is not easy to describe, very humbling and somber.