Read Confederates in the Attic Online
Authors: Tony Horwitz
Confederates in the Attic (59 page)
It was early afternoon when we reached the Gettysburg reenactment. Rob had arranged for a fife and drum corps to meet us, and we marched onto the battlefield to the sound of “Dixie,” past dense crowds of spectators armed with videocams and Instamatics.
Cannons began firing and someone came on the loudspeaker to announce that combat was about to begin. This was the cue for us to exit the battlefield. Rob and his followers rarely fought anymore; battles without bullets necessarily lacked authenticity. Hardcores preferred the unsullied experience of marching in the dark and reading mail from the homefront.
So the men retired to a nearby field to set up camp. I handed over my chicken and told Rob I had to head home. “Come back tomorrow for the return march,” he said, slumping to the ground and magnanimously liberating the chicken. “Hiking on day-old blisters takes you to a whole different level.”
But I’d decided in the night that I wouldn’t be coming back, at least not for a long time. I had a three-month-old baby waiting at home with Geraldine. Marching in the dark, I’d missed them and felt guilty for being away on a Civil War lark. It was time to put away childish things, at least until my own child was old enough to play with them, too.
I drove south along the spine of mountains that ran from southern Pennsylvania to my home in Virginia, paralleling the route Lee’s army followed during the retreat after Gettysburg. Crossing the Potomac at sunset, imagining weary rebels splashing through the river, I felt the same dreamy contentment that had washed over me so often during the past several years.
A few nights before, while reading a Robert Penn Warren essay about the Civil War, I’d come across several lines that spoke to me. “A high proportion of our population was not even in this country when the War was being fought. Not that this disqualifies the grandson
from experiencing to the full the imaginative appeal of the Civil War. To experience this appeal may be, in fact, the very ritual of being American.”
Reading this, I’d wondered if “the ritual of being American” helped explain why my great-grandfather bought a Civil War book soon after arriving here in the 1880s. As a teenaged émigré without family in America, he must have felt profoundly adrift. He arrived here only seventeen years after Appomattox, when memories of the conflict remained vivid. Poppa Isaac came from learned, rabbinical stock. Maybe he sensed that Civil War history was an American Talmud that would unlock the secrets of his adopted land and make him feel a part of it.
Or perhaps, like young immigrants today who quickly latch on to sports teams and pop-culture stars, he was drawn to the Civil War as a badge of citizenship. Then again, maybe one of his co-workers at the sweatshop where he labored had fought in a New York regiment and intrigued Poppa Isaac with stories of the War.
But as I crossed the Potomac and rode into the Virginia hills, I sensed that Warren’s words applied equally to me. Lacking deep family roots in America, I’d started sinking my own in the one part of the Continent that felt somehow like home. I hadn’t planned it this way, at least not consciously. But there was a ritualistic quality, in Warren’s phrase, to my relationship with the Civil War landscape, whether it was the fields of Gettysburg or Burnside’s Bridge at Antietam or some bit of rustic scenery—a crooked stone wall, an old graveyard, a simple frame house—that I glimpsed along country roads. These were places I’d felt deeply connected to since childhood, first through the study of sacred texts with my father, and then through my own attempts to reproduce them, like a medieval illuminate, on the walls of my attic bedroom and in the pages of my crude Civil War history.
It turned out that my Australian wife had roots here, too. While doing some family research of her own, Geraldine found a family tree and a faded photograph of a great-great-grandfather from America wearing what looked like a Civil War forage cap. I went with Rob to the National Archives and discovered that Geraldine may have had
several forebears who served with New England regiments that fought in Virginia.
This didn’t kindle a sudden passion on Geraldine’s part for weekend drives to Manassas. But she consented to naming our new dog “Shiloh” and didn’t yawn quite so histrionically when I droned on about the Civil War. Geraldine drew the line, though, when our son was born on the anniversary of Jackson’s mortal wounding at Chancellorsville. No son of ours would be named Stonewall, nor for any of the other Virginians that Rob suggested: Jubal, Mosby, Ashby, Armistead.
We opted instead for another romantic figure from an earlier time: James Fenimore Cooper’s adventurer, Natty Bumppo. All summer, Geraldine nursed Natty while listening to the sound track from
Last of the Mohicans
, dreaming of the day he might run through the woods in moccasins and leather breeches, as his namesake had done.
Me, I harbored a different fantasy. The upstairs bedroom we’d set aside for our son had old wooden beams and a sloping ceiling. The walls badly needed paint. Perhaps when Natty got a little older he could decorate them himself. I had a few old books on the shelf that might give him some ideas.
I
WOULD LIKE TO THANK
the following people, without whom this book would have been a lot harder to do, and a lot less fun. Sue and Ed Curtis, for introducing me to the Sons, Daughters, Children, and Cats of the Confederacy. John Shelton Reed, for his wit and wisdom about the South, from which I’ve borrowed liberally. John Coski, the most priceless treasure at the Museum of the Confederacy. David Goodwin, a brave soul and boon companion in southern Kentucky. Bruce and Laura Lee Dobie, hosts with the most in Tennessee. Robert Rosen, a gentleman and a scholar of the Carolina Lowcountry. Plus others too numerous to mention who demonstrated how amply the South deserves its reputation for hospitality.
I would also like to thank my e-mail pen pals—Crawfish, Peter Applebome, Wolfgang Hochbruck—who were generous beyond measure with their own research. And the best bunch of critics any writer could hope for: Geraldine Brooks, Elinor Horwitz, Josh Horwitz, Dan Frank, Kris Dahl, Brian Hall, Michael Lewis and Peter Glusker. All your time is not forgotten.
Reader’s Guide
1. Horwitz begins the book by wondering why his immigrant great-grandfather became obsessed by the Civil War. Does he ever answer this question? Why are so many Americans with no blood tie to the War nonetheless fascinated by it?
2. While Americans cling to the Civil War, they’ve forgotten most of the rest of their history. There is no comparable obsession with the Mexican War, the War of 1812, or even the American Revolution. What are some of the reasons for this?
3. Horwitz, though not a native Southerner, seems to enjoy the region and its people. What are some of the traits of the South he finds appealing in Charleston and elsewhere?
4. Horwitz meets many women who are as devoted as men to memory of the War: Sue Curtis, June Wells, Melly Meadows, Mauriel Joslyn. How does their approach to the War differ from that of men?
5. Horwitz devotes more space to Robert Lee Hodge than to any other character. Why? What drives Rob? Do you find him heroic, appealing, repellent, or just plain nuts?
6. Horwitz suggests that reenactors are motivated by an urge to escape their own time zone and experience the “period rush” of entering another era. What is it about the 1860s that seems more appealing than our own time period? Does Horwitz ever experience a period rush?
7. At one point, Horwitz, clad as a Confederate reenactor, walks into a shop full of black shoppers and feels ashamed. Is it possible to play-act the Civil War as spectacle, or does reenacting the War inevitably raise troubling questions? Horwitz often asks himself a difficult question: what is the appropriate way to remember the Confederacy and those who fought for it? Can you honor your Confederate ancestors without insulting others? What do you think?
8. Horwitz visits most of the War’s major battlefields, including Gettysburg, Shiloh, Vicksburg and Manassas. What draws him, and other people, to these parks? In what ways are they a sanctuary from modern society?
9. Many Southern whites revere the rebel battle flag as a symbol of the valor and sacrifice of their ancestors. To many African-Americans, the same flag is a hated symbol of segregation and white supremacy. Is there any middle ground? Which of the states in the South have navigated this minefield most successfully?
10. As he tours the Civil War landscape, Horwitz often finds battlefields and other sites threatened by strip malls and tract housing. What value is there in saving these sites, which are often just empty fields?
11. Throughout his journey, Horwitz encounters a profound sense of Southern grievance, a feeling that the region is still looked down on. Is this Southern paranoia or a justifiable response to the way the region is regarded by the North and by Hollywood?
12. Horwitz writes about the killing of Michael Westerman while flying a Confederate flag from his truck, in Todd County, Kentucky. What are the social and emotional reasons why Westerman’s killing becomes such a flashpoint for Southern anger, both black and white?
13. In Richmond, Horwitz listens to a debate over whether a statue of Arthur Ashe belongs on Monument Avenue. He finds his own views shifting. Do you think the statue should have been put there?
14. In Alabama, Horwitz visits classrooms to see how the Civil War is being taught today. How are black and white students approaching the War differently? Is there any sense of a common American history?
15. Across the South, Horwitz implies that the dream of the Civil Rights era is embattled. In what ways does he show progress in race relations, and in what ways retreat?
16. At Andersonville Prison, Horwitz finds that there are two irreconcilable views of who was responsible for the tragedy there. Who wrote these histories and why? Which view do you think is more accurate?
17. The South’s population is changing dramatically as the region fills with Northerners, Latin Americans, Asians and others. If this trend continues, can Confederate remembrance endure in the 21st century?
18. Since the book’s publication, Horwitz has been attacked by both right-wing and left-wing Southerners who think he is either an apologist for Confederate heritage or a sworn enemy of it. Overall, do you think he is fair? Too fair?
19. Every year, it seems, there is a new book or movie, such as Cold Mountain or Gettysburg, that reignites passion for the Civil War. What literature, film or television series has brought the War alive for you?
Tony Horwitz is a staff writer for
The New Yorker
and a former foreign correspondent who has reported from Australia, the Middle East, Africa, and eastern Europe. His awards include the Pulitzer Prize for national reporting and the Overseas Press Club award for best foreign news reporting. He is also the author of two national bestsellers,
Baghdad Without a Map
and
Confederates in the Attic
. Horwitz lives in Virginia with his wife and son.
Books by Tony Horwitz
Confederates in the Attic
Baghdad Without a Map
One for the Road
T
ONY
H
ORWITZ
CONFEDERATES IN THE ATTIC
The Civil War still rages across the South in ways both quirky and compelling. “Hardcore” reenactors crash-diet to resemble starved Confederates and spoon in ditches to stave off frostbite. A Scarlett O’Hara impersonator lifts her skirts for Japanese tourists. And Sons, Daughters, and Children of the Confederacy gather to sing “Dixie” and salute the rebel flag. Tony Horwitz takes us on a ten-state adventure, from Gettysburg to Vicksburg, from Charleston graveyards to Tennessee taverns. Probing both the history of the Civil War and its potent echo in the present, Horwitz crafts an eloquent, fast-paced, and penetrating travelogue that shows us how the Lost Cause still resonates in the memory and rituals of the South.
ONE FOR THE ROAD
Swept off to live in Sydney by his Australian bride, American writer Tony Horwitz longs to explore the exotic reaches of his adopted land. So one day, armed only with a backpack and fantasies of the open road, he hitchhikes off into the awesome emptiness of Australia’s outback. What follows is a hilarious, hair-raising ride into the hot red center of a continent so desolate that civilization dwindles to a gas pump and a pub. Horwitz entrusts himself to Aborigines, opal diggers, jackeroos, card sharks, and sun-struck wanderers who measure distance in the number of beers consumed en route. Bug-bitten, sunblasted, dust-choked, and bloodied by a near-fatal accident, Horwitz endures seven thousand miles of the world’s most forbidding real estate, and some very bizarre personal encounters, as he winds his way to Queensland, Alice Springs, Perth, Darwin–and a hundred bush pubs in between.
VINTAGE DEPARTURES
Available at your local bookstore, or
visit
www.randomhouse.com
FIRST VINTAGE DEPARTURES EDITION, MARCH 1999
Copyright
©
1998 by Tony Horwitz
Maps Copyright
© 1998 by Laurie Jo Neary/Seed Time Studio
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions Published in the United States by Vintage Books, a division of Random House, Inc., New York, and simultaneously in Canada by Random House of Canada Limited, Toronto. Originally published in hardcover in the United States by Pantheon Books, a division of Random House, Inc., New York, in 1998.
Chapter 5 of this work was originally published in a different form in
The New Yorker
.
Grateful acknowledgment is made to Random House, Inc., for permission to reprint an excerpt from
Intruder in the Dust
by William Faulkner. Copyright © 1948 by Random House, Inc. Reprinted by permission of Random House, Inc.
Vintage Books, Vintage Departures, and Colophon
are trademarks of Random House, Inc.
The Library of Congress has cataloged the Pantheon edition as follows:
Horwitz, Tony, 1958-
Confederates in the attic: dispatches from the unfinished Civil War / Tony Horwitz.
p. cm
eISBN: 978-0-307-76301-3
1. United States—History—Civil War, 1861-1865—Influence. 2 Horwitz, Tony, 1958- —Journeys—Southern States. I. Title.
E468.9.H78 1998
973.7—dc21 97-26759
Author photograph © Joshua Horwitz
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