Two Ways of Seeing Gettysburg
I was a senior in high school when I first read Mark Twain’s 1883 essay “Two Ways of Seeing the River.” Although I had encountered the great author’s writing before, this piece particularly struck me. He suggests the more familiar something becomes, the more it loses its mystique. Twain explains how becoming a steamboat pilot on the Mississippi River allowed him to learn more about the river. But this technical knowledge diminished Twain’s perception of the river as a thing of beauty and mystery.
As I read the essay, I couldn’t help but think of my own connection to Gettysburg. I visited the battlefield for the first time when I was seven years old. That trip dumped gasoline on my small flame of interest in the Civil War. The monuments and maps, and tales of tragedy and heroism captured my unending fascination. But most of all, my seven-year-old eyes saw the battlefield as an endless expanse yet to be explored—with stories to learn, new places to visit, and corners of the park to discover. Twain describes how he “drank in” the world of the river, so I suppose I “drank in” the aura of the battlefield. That first trip kickstarted a family tradition to visit Gettysburg (at least) once every year. From then on, I awoke on the morning of each trip with an excitement equal to that of Christmas.
When I was about twelve, I adopted an informal bucket list of “off the beaten path” sites and started to cross off some of them on my next trip. That list took me to places like South Cavalry Field, Berdan Avenue, Power’s Hill, and the Devil’s Kitchen. I distinctly recall meandering around the Slaughter Pen to find “Trough Rock” and hiking down Barlow’s Knoll on a cold winter day to locate the 54th New York’s skirmish line marker. I’ve found or visited most of them now—only a few places remain uncrossed. The list undoubtedly helped me expand my understanding of the battle and its participants. But for the knowledge I gained, I had lost something else. I had lost some of my sense of wonder and awe that had so attracted me to the battlefield. The mysteries of the battle were now less mysterious.
Of course, I don’t know everything about the battle. None of us do, and that’s what keeps us engaged, keeps us asking important and thoughtful questions. But to a certain degree, I felt that I had conquered the battlefield. The monuments seemed less majestic and grand, since I had visited many of them and knew some of the stories behind them. Likewise, the battlefield increasingly appears less vast to my older eyes. (Maybe that’s also a product of me growing almost two feet since my first visit!) What was once an endless expanse of rocks to climb, trails to hike, and stories to learn now seems more navigable and familiar.
At the end of his essay, Twain poses the question of whether one has “gained most or lost most” by learning his trade. I’ve posed this question to myself, as my relationship with Gettysburg has evolved over time. I can’t say that I’ve “lost most” by returning to the battlefield every year to learn more. But I have certainly lost some of the childlike wonder that I once had when I was young. On the other hand, I wouldn’t be the historian—and person—I am today without that early wonderment. Watching the movie Gettysburg every month and exploring the battlefield each year constitute core memories of my childhood, but they also continued to fuel and foster my love and passion for history.
While Twain ultimately sacrificed the beauty of the river for its utility, I can’t say the same of Gettysburg. While my continued interest in history relinquished the battlefield’s mystery and romance to a more practical—and real—understanding of its history, Gettysburg remains one of my favorite places. My familiarity with the battle and the park only constitutes a new, and stronger, connection with the place.
For all the times I go there, I never lose my sense of wonder. I see the same thing from a hundred different angles, different comings and goings of human beings, soldiers and civilians and tourists. The battlefield and town are constantly in motion, and evolving.
For sure. There’s always something new to learn and something new to see.
I loved going to Gettysburg. The first time i went was my last “family” trip. My brothers and parents wanted to play mini-golf; but they allowed me to wander around by myself. I could see the mini-golf place in the distance, but no one was rushing me through a museum or running ahead while i looked at trees with bullet holes in them or read stories at different locations. My father wanted to be with me because i think he loved history as much as i did, but my mother could not handle my 2 younger brothers by herself. That same summer, i flew off to Boston by myself and with a friend, explored everything we could find around the city. Then later that same summer went off to a youth conference in Dallas where i met some historical figures of another kind… Johnny Cash… Billy Graham…
Tom Landry…. and Roger Stauback (sp?)… That summer began a life of adventure. Mostly historical. I also watch films of the Revolutionary War, the Civil War, WW1, WW11, Vietnam ( my generation), and i had favorites. I read books about history too. To me, it has lead me to believe that there are always two sides to a conflict. But also that both lose much no matter who wins. But it is always amazing.
And there were brave men on both sides of the Civil War.
I recall clearly after my most recent visit to Gettysburg that, with that visit, the battlefield seemed distinctly smaller. I realized that once the various actions over the three-day battle had fallen into place chronologically in my mind and understanding, the battlefield had lost some of its mystique.
Agreed!
In 1960 I was going into the 8th grade, and my parents took me to Gettysburg. A guide sat in the middle of the backseat telling my parents where to drive and what happened at each place along the way. I was bored until we came to Devil’s Den. The rock formations were fun to climb. We went to the visitor center and saw the blue and grey light battle field presentation. Now, for the first time, I began to understand the battlefield. Years later, my wife and I stood at the Angle at 4:00 pm, July 3, 1998, one hundred thirty-five years after the battle. It was goosebumps.
Growing up less than an hour’s drive from the battlefield and doing my post graduate work in Carlisle made Gettysburg a place to make both a planned and unplanned stop on any day I felt like I needed another dose of the battlefield’s ambiance. I later moved to Vermont and my visits to the battlefield became more of annual pilgrimages just to refresh memories of place. During the sesquicentennial I thought the participation in sham combat would be a new experience, but with attending no less than two reenactments during the 150th years would give it a new luster. However facinating the participation was with reenactors, one evening brought back the beauty and mystery of place. That evening during the event, I wanted to watch the sunset from the top of Little Round Top. But I was not the only uniformed one there. A period band (Confederat reactors, I think), decided to serenade the sunset as I stood and watched the twilight transition from day to night. That evening brought back all of the wonderment that began to fade when I had spent much more of my time learning names, units and tactical movements at the expense of just allowing me to appreciate the senses experiencing the sights and sounds surrounding me during those priceless hours of taking it all in.
There’s something quite moving about solitude on a battlefield.
Mystique is NOT the same as wonder. Knowledge may lessen the mystique, but should increase the sense of wonder and awe.
Fair enough. I have certainly not lost my wonder, awe, and passion for the Civil War!
The same thing happened to me with air travel. The first dozen times it was so romantic; 350 flights later I was like William Shatner in the Twilight Zone episode – “Get me off this plane!” The romance returns when you seek out and discover stories that you’ve never heard before. Also…you can visit other battlefields. I thought I knew a lot about the Seven Days Battles until I began writing a detailed book, much of which takes place during that week. I found enough new stories, new information, and unpublished documents to last a lifetime.
As for the ‘Gettysburg’ film and ‘The Killer Angels’ novel, I appreciate them for what they got right…but we could use more novels and perhaps a 12-part cable TV series to correct what they got so horribly wrong and to show all they missed.
The Seven Days Battles are certainly fascinating. And, for what it’s worth, Cain at Gettysburg by Ralph Peters is a pretty solid Gettysburg novel in my opinion.
Would love to see that 12 part TV series!
I first visited Gettysburg as a small child and fell in love with the place. I’ve been back many times, but my favorite visit was the first time my wife and I brought our sons to the battlefield and I saw the sense of wonder in their eyes. It’s a national treasure.
That’s awesome!
So well stated about the evolving relationship that many of us experience as we gain more knowledge about people and places that once so new to us. I can’t visit Gettysburg enough and every trip is too short leaving me with a new set of goals for my next trip. Outstanding post in every way.
Thanks, Mike. Every trip to Gettysburg is indeed too short!
Gettysburg is certainly special. The opportunity to stand and reflect, walk and explore, and interact/discuss with Park Rangers and interpreters is simply wonderful. Only my second visit is coming up and I am again looking forward to it. Reflecting on what occurred while one is exploring produces a feeling that is palpable and inexplicable.
Absolutely
In preparation for last week’s three day visit to Gettysburg, I finished John Michael Priest’s book on the First Corp on July 1 and Ellwood Christ’s classic on the Fighting @ Bliss Farm. These provided fresh perspectives and sparked new insights – for example, Arnold’s battery was within range of the Confederate sharpshooters when they occupied the Barn.