Chancellorsville-Wilderness 2004

On Friday many men took the opportunity to tour the battlefields. Chris Piering recalled, "Garr Gast and I spent a few hours touring the battlefield, spending some extra time at Saunders's Field and then at Spotsylvania's Bloody Angle."

On Thursday O'Bee and Sparky took the opportunity to tour Chatham Manor and the Fredericksburg battlefield, "Much of which we had never seen before, like Hamilton's Crossing and Lee's Hill," Kevin said. "We also strolled through downtown Fredericksburg before meeting Harry Connelly for dinner."

"On Friday morning," Kevin continued, "Dusty Chapman kindly gave us a wonderful tour of the Payne's Farm battlefield and site of the planned 2005 and, dang, if that isn't one helluva fine place for a semi-immersion event. Think Pickett's Mill without the heat and Georgia's steep topography and with less-tangled woods, and a lot more open terrain, and you have an idea of what Payne's Farm will be like. After that, we went to Chancellorsville and met with Ranger Stacy for a few hours to work out the final details of the event at hand."

After getting slightly lost, but with an otherwise pleasant drive, Pete Smith and I arrived at the Chancellorsville visitors' center at about 5:30 p.m. on Friday. There we found Hardcore Harry - who had been posted there to direct arriving fellows to Fairview, a mile or so up the road where our bivouac was - chatted a bit, then headed on over to Fairview for registration formalities.

Lt. Smith was placed in charge of getting everyone to sign the NPS paperwork, and soon a small group of CRs was onsite. We scraped up the sod for a campfire, gathered firewood, &c. As other folks arrived they filled out the requisite paperwork on the tailgate of Pete's truck, then brought in their gear to the camp and selected a spot to erect some shelter. A few of the boys were in the woods or along the tree line while several of us pitched shebangs off some fallen trees - victims of the September 2003 hurricane - that nicely served our purpose.

Sparky later remarked of our Fairview campsite, "I was delighted with its appearance. I remember seeing a photo of a Civil War campsite where soldiers had tied their blankets and shelter halves to fallen pines. This seemed like the perfect place to reproduce that and sure enough, we did."

As darkness fell Sgt. Towson handled rations apportionment, and somehow - somehow - matters deteriorated to a point such that the bacon had to be, unbelievably, cooked in the dark. Just as incredibly, this had little impact either at the time or on the event as a whole and, astoundingly enough, after the event, the various Internet forums were silent about this crime.

Charles Heath was onsite as a uniformed kabuki and Director of Water Resources. Big Whitey (a Ford pickup truck) debuted as the water-hauler and all-around event sag-wagon, whereas Jeff Henion's Dodge Durango served as the event's storage shed for the numerous changes of clothing that several members required to fulfill various roles during the weekend.

"It was the first time I'd transported water in the 210-gallon tank from home to an event," Charles reported. "I'm glad we did that, with the way things worked out. The truck also contained six of those 5-gallon army surplus water cans as a Plan B, a shovel, sharp axe, industrial pruning saw, loppers, mess kettle, larger boiler, and tow chain. I should have stuck in a plastic bag, but it turned out that we didn't need it. A back up supply of TP was available in the 'wagon but no one mentioned a need for it, thank God - the grub was at least semi-digestible."

Friday night passed pleasantly enough, and was good sleeping weather.

Saturday morning came with reveille at 6.00 a.m. Chris Piering recalled, "Saturday morning dawned partly cloudy, and the weather gradually closing in on us."

As we stumbled into line for roll call it became apparent that Rob Willis had been bitten on the eyelid by a spider - again. In fact, the last time Rob was bitten on the eye by a spider was the very same weekend, exactly two years earlier, at Arcade N.Y. The new circumstances moved "Sparky" Henion to comment how it is thoroughly uncharitable to laugh at the misfortunes of your fellow men, but added, "As I have never been a particularly charitable fellow, I could not help but chuckle at the sight of Rob's swollen peeper. His own air of, 'Well, we all knew this would happen,' made the scene all the more poignant. Sorry Rob, but the insect kingdom has it in for you." While Rob's eye looked mighty puffy for most of the day, it sure didn't slow him down. It must not have been Shelob's offspring.

After breakfast and coffee, the company formed under the command of Captain O'Bee and Lt. Smith for about two and a half hours of company drill, skirmish drill, and bayonet drill, the latter run by Orderly Sergeant Gast; O'Bee wanted us to be precise in our movements for the park visitors, I guess.

When we were finally done (and huffing some) with drill, the company donned full marching order. Chris Piering commented, "A short march took us from Fairview to Hazel Grove - two opposite rises in a relatively flat area that were key to the Chancellorsville fight." It took us about ten minutes to hike the half-mile or so up the greenway to Hazel Grove for our first public demonstration of the day.

At Hazel Grove, we presented to park visitors demonstrations of skirmishing and bayonet drill; the latter in part because of the Third Corps's midnight bayonet charge on this very ground on May 2, 1863. Our thirty-minute program also included readings by company members of the words of soldiers of 1863, both for the visitors and ourselves; there's always something special about hearing the soldiers' words on the very spot where their actions happened. Rob Carter and Kevin O'Beirne read aloud and spoke on the 37th New York in Sickles' midnight bayonet charge and the confusion in Hazel Grove at dawn on May 3, 1863 as McGowan's South Carolinians ambushed the retreating 37th New York, inflicting terrible casualties.

Chris Piering observed, "The gentle rain that greeted our intro to the spectators was well tolerated as we developed and parried our way through McClellan's bayonet drill."

Rob Willis spoke for all of the participants when he commented on how the forty or so visitors stood fast in the rain watching our program: "It showed pluck by the visitors," he said, "and was very appreciated by us all."

And despite the rain, the company looked good. Dave Towsen took particular note, "That twenty out of twenty-two enlisted participants wore Federal issue shirts. It was neat to see the company dressed like everyone was issued the same thing, sans the two lucky guys who had apparently received packages from home before the campaign started."

After the Hazel Grove program the company marched back to our bivouac at Fairview - a few spectators even accompanied us all the way down the greenway in the drizzle instead of driving along the park tour road.

After a midday meal, we took a different tack for some further demonstrations for about fifty visitors. Our early-afternoon program represented the 60th New York at Fairview - the regiment of CR member Steve Tyler's great-great-great grandfather.

"We did a nice little skirmish drill under the eyes of the 'taters," recalled Chris Piering. The next stage of the program included reading aloud of accounts from the 60th New York at Chancellorsville by Pete Smith.

After the readings, several CRs were appointed as "company commanders" (complete with uniforms and swords) and "sergeants." The company broke up into four separate 5- or 6-man components, each representing a "core" of a company of the 60th New York. The men approached the spectators and "recruited" them in earnest. The companies were drilled in basic maneuvers for five to ten minutes, essentially to teach the visitors how soldiers marched in line in close-order drill.

"We assembled four companies of spectators and ran them through some rudimentary field maneuvers," wrote Sparky Henion. "I've seen worse movement from supposedly veteran reenactors."

"By now, the rain had become more general, but the spectators were up to the challenge," remembered Chris Piering. "The worst of the showers was right after we finished," he added.

The four hastily recruited companies assembled in a battalion front along the north side of the Fairview clearing, roughly near where the 60th New York was formed during the morning of May 3, 1863. Each spectator in the line was assigned a number. Captain O'Bee announced that, if a visitor heard their number called out then, "Your number is indeed up", which brought a chuckle from the crowd, and instructed them to fall out and remain standing in place while the line moved on.

The motley battalion of reenactors and spectators then recreated the movements of the 60th New York's solo charge out of the woods into the Fairview clearing to relieve Confederate pressure on the Twelfth Corps line. As we moved, company commanders called out "numbers" and several of the visitors stopped in their tracks as the "battalion" continued forward about 100 yards.

"One young fellow was assigned to the color guard with Soup Bone and I, and seemed to be having the time of his life," wrote Sparky afterward. "Each participant was given a number and told to fall out of line when his was called aloud. As we traced the movements of the 60th New York, periodically, when the company officers called a number aloud, there was a lot of smiling and laughter right up to the point where we halted."

When we reached near the southern side of the Fairview clearing, O'Bee called a halt and then said, "The real 60th New York lost about 60 men on this ground 131 years ago. Proportionately, our re-created battalion just 'lost' about the same number of casualties. This regiment was recruited from small towns and villages in upstate New York, and brothers, friends, neighbors, and cousins served side by side. Often they didn't know who of their friends and relatives had fallen until the battle was over." After a slight pause, O'Bee ordered, "Battalion! About - face!"

There, in the rain, stood about fifteen spectators, dotted all over the field. Sparky continued, "Once the visitors got a look at the number of their fellows left behind as 'dead' or 'wounded' they sobered up almost instantly. That kid in the color guard was all smiles until he saw that one of the 'casualties' was his mother. Some may think this sort of dramatic device to be a bit hokey, but I am convinced it helped in to drive home the cost of these actions to folks who don't often think of these things on a gut level."

It was an incredibly powerful moment for them, and for us.

The increasing rain caused a quick wrap-up to the program, as many of the visitors sought shelter in their vehicles along the park tour road. Despite the rain shower, this interactive demonstration came off very, very well. Sparky opined, "I particularly liked the Saturday afternoon program."

As "Brother Yoder" Hindman said, "The spectator interaction was awesome. Not having the benefit of participating in the A2003 event, for my part, the numbers dotted in the field were new to me and left a distinct impression. I think this type of thing should be done more often."

The rain became heavier and Chris Piering recalled, "The crowd melted away. While we were huddled in a dry spot, one of my personal Civil War historian heroes, Dr. Gary Gallagher walked right past us. Kevin and I were compelled to sprint after him to shake his hand. Dr. Gallagher is one of the most prolific scholars on the American Civil War and the fact that he watched our demonstration did not escape me."

"The rain continued for several hours and this allowed some of us - certainly me - to get a few winks in the shebangs along the wood line at Fairview," wrote Chris. Sparky agreed: "Actually, it proved to be a welcome respite, although I found that I was sharing my shelter half with at least four very large, gray spiders - probably friends of Rob's. The rain was relatively light and lasted only long enough to give us a thorough dampening. By 4:30 p.m. or so it let up, and eventually the sun tried to peak out."

"Mother nature wasn't cooperative on Saturday afternoon," Pete Smith averred, "but none of the men lost their spirit."

Between 4:30 and 5:00 p.m. almost the entire company took a ride over to the Chancellor House site where Soupbone Weymer read aloud the words of a member of the 124th New York - the "Orange Blossoms" from the mid-Hudson Valley area - that included in its ranks three of Soupbone's ancestors. The 124th New York, a previously untried regiment, was cut to pieces in the woods around the Chancellor House plain. O'Bee ranked Soupbone's reading at the Chancellor House as one of the most powerful moments of the weekend. Particularly moving was his ancestor's orange ribbon that Soupbone bore, one of only two such relics worn by the 124th known still to exist. It was our privilege to look upon it at this particularly hallowed place and to share in George's words and feelings.

We returned to our Fairview bivouac and had supper. This repast was marked by a great fire courtesy of Charles Heath's quiet persistence. "Building and maintaining a fire in the pouring rain is a morale booster," Charles said later. "Folks were wondering when the rain was going to stop, and there was some fool - me - building a yard-high fire with yellow pine and red cedar. When the fire goes out, people leave, so it was good to have a fire going." It may seem kind of silly, but it was true.

Atop the blazing fire in the rain was a large kettle of coffee that wound up showing incredible staying power over the next fifteen hours. It was brewed by Chawls and tended to and repeatedly reheated by him and Rob Willis. That joe sure kept everyone going.

Lt. Smith appreciated the effort: "The coffee that Chawls and Goat made was first rate! The wood supply was always abundant - I watched Charles working for a while chopping wood, and wondered how he kept it up. And to boot, it was damn hot and humid to be chopping and tending a fire, and in the rain."

In some of his typical, elementary observations, Charles noted that, "A mess kettle of hot coffee = good idea. Small wooden potato masher to grind coffee = great idea." And we all owe some thanks to Lt. Smith for packing that bit of important kitchen furniture.

After supper it was time to again pile into the vehicles for a little private battlefield tour of Saunders's Field, courtesy of by NPS Ranger Greg Mertz. This bloodied field holds particularly deep significance for several of us: Chris Piering for his attachment to the 12th U.S. Regulars who fought there, and Al Walker, Pete Smith, and me, who have long held a fascination with the 140th New York. In particular, Al and I were privileged to wear reproductions of the 140th's Zouave uniform for the tour, as we trod the very ground where this Monroe County (Rochester area) regiment struggled so desperately.

"Ranger Mertz's presentation shed light on the action at Saunders's Field that many of us knew, superficially, as some of the bloodiest fighting of the opening of the Overland Campaign's battle of the Wilderness," Chris Piering explained. "I got a much better appreciation of the role of Ayers's brigade of Regulars and Zouaves as a result of this tour. If only the Sixth Corps would have been up to support those men as they charged over open ground!"

Sparky added, "I'd never had a great handle on exactly where the 140th New York maneuvered and fought in and just beyond Saunders's Field. The tour given us by the NPS historian wrapped up the whole thing quite nicely."

The tour started near the visitors' shelter in the middle of the field where Ranger Mertz explained the lay of the land and how the modern tree lines are somewhat different than they were on May 5, 1864. We then proceeded west up the slope toward Ewell's Confederate positions. The group stopped now and then while Greg explained the ebb and flow of the battle, and here and there Chris read aloud an account from the 12th U.S. and Pete read from Porter Farley's writings on the 140th New York. It was getting into twilight when the group entered the woods that sheltered the Rebel line and, following Greg's lead, we explored the tangled growth where the 140th and 146th New York fought fiercely for their lives. It was a well-done tour and we all learned a lot from it.

While there was, as O'Bee later observed, a certain air of a costumed battlefield tour about certain portions of the weekend, Tom Craig put it in perspective: "There was an element of costumed battlefield tour, yes, but I think the addition of the 'tour stuff' enhanced the weekend rather than detracting from it. Personally, I find most living history events to be boring. We were never bored this weekend - there was no time to be! - and the evening 'down time' was filled by the Saunders's Field tour."

It was almost fully dark when we returned down the Orange Turnpike to our bivouac. The durable and, after a while probably literally, bottomless pot of coffee was reheated. Said "Goat" Willis about how we 'milked' the coffee pot for about four boils, "That brew could have been used to blacken our belts by Sunday morning!"

But it was perfect 'joe', wasn't it?

According to Brother Yoder, "That coffee ROCKED! After umpteen million re-heatings, it still tasted like something."

Plus that evening there was pie, praise be, thanks to the 69th New York boys; it sure didn't take them long to figure out what would greatly endear them to the hearts of the Columbia Rifles "That pie run was right on time," Charles said. "Not only did the CR's 'pie streak' remain unbroken - and Soupbone actually got some pie this time, after being falsely accused of the high crime of Pie Theft at the camp of instruction - but the folks who needed some carbohydrate loading got a good dose of peach, blueberry, cherry, apple crumb, and pecan pie. It looked like a Pie-A-Holics Anonymous meeting gone bad - while locked in a confectionary."

Sparky added simply, "Pie is its own reward."

Some other rations included dried peaches, pears, and cherries. "They went over well as an addition to the bacon, hardtack, sugar, and coffee," Charles reported. "They weren't on Kevin's tight menu, but a dried peach has about the same amount of potassium as a 16-ounce bottle of Gatorade. The two boiled peaches were quite tasty, and we had a few laughs about their appearance. Yeah, it's a guy thing."

There was more good news. By Retreat, "Goat" Willis's spider-bait eye was sort of back to normal.

There were other moments that evening, as Pete Smith recalled: "Saturday night I had 'a moment' while sitting with Mike Ryan and Al Walker. I looked up toward the fire and saw several of the men sitting around it laughing and chatting with each other: a scene I've seen hundreds of times before, but this one was somehow different. It was a scene in the dark that one might have observed 140 years ago on the same ground. You can't buy that kind of atmosphere anywhere."

Rob Willis related, "Garr and I decided to discover just how much you could see at night, and took a walking tour to sort of trace the steps of Dan Sickles' nighttime bayonet charge that we had read and heard about. I was unwilling to go more than two steps into the woods, however, because they were 'haunted'. Too bad if you don't believe me, but I was there. It just felt creepy."

Chris Piering believed. He recounted one of the most moving instances of the weekend: "The bivouac on Saturday night was cool and clear, with nature providing more than a few shooting stars for us to wonder at. What were 'The Boys' of 1863-1864 thinking on similar sights? During the night, I had an experience that I was reluctant to share until I heard a story told by Soupbone. During the night, while fast asleep, I felt a sudden nervousness that turned to a fear. Aware of our place in that battlefield, I felt that I was not alone, but was surrounded by crowds of soldiers, in lines and in knots of men, curiously looking us over. I was a bit fearful and started to wake up and, as I did, the men began to fade. They faded in a way that was gradual, first the hair disappearing, then the ears and noses, eyes and mouth and then to apparitions in the shape of human shadows. One of them said 'You're losing us, relax.' I did, and sank back to sleep as they re-acquired their features. The knots of men filed past us, some nodding, some reaching out and touching us, but all conveying a sense of approval of our presence. I gradually came out of my sleep and the forms again faded into apparitions and were gone. I opened my eyes and was surrounded only by my pards, the sacred ground, and a shroud of stars. I rolled over and went back to sleep, feeling proud that we were somehow a comfort to the souls lost those bloody days."

It's difficult to ask for more than that from a living history weekend, huh?

Saturday night was a little chilly. I slept lousy and was up before dawn. It was probably the dampness, or maybe it was those damn bugs - beetles or something munching inside the fallen pine trees that most of us used as supports for our shebangs. According to Sparky they were, "Those darn clicking bugs. At first I thought someone was trying to quietly drive in a tent stake. Instead I tracked the rhythmic clicking to the very logs to which we had tied our shelters. A braver fellow would have lit a candle to see what multi-legged monster was producing the sound. Personally, I opted for ignorance and huddled back under my blanket, and I never did see the little beasts."

Whatever the cause, I was up before the sun. I found Goat at the fire, once more reheating that durable coffee, and passed the time there, warming myself, sipping coffee with that wonderful Turbinado sugar in it, and very much enjoying a talk with Rob about history and the men who had so long ago made it here.

A grayish dawn came and with it reveille at 6.00 a.m. After roll call and some breakfast and a final go at the coffee, we packed up, said farewell to Fairview, and shuttled to the Higgerson Farm on the Wilderness battlefield. The cars were parked along the park tour road at the Widow Tapp farm and the boys piled into the back of Ranger Stacy's pickup truck back to Higgerson's.

I had been to Higgerson's once before while following the footsteps on an ancestor, Charles Bush of the 76th New York, but I had forgotten just how sour Permelia Higgerson's nasty puss looks on that roadside NPS marker.

As the boys got situated along the park tour road, I walked off a short way and climbed up off the road where I could look out across the field to the tree line beyond. It was a pleasant, sunny day and I stood for a while, trying to feel if any of the soldiers were still there. Had they come by today? Did they know we were here? In retrospect, given Chris Piering's experience, I know that they were. I also wanted to know if Charles Bush, in particular, was there. For me, this was the highlight of my trip: I wanted more than anything to be here, to stand on this ground and try to pay some small tribute to Private Bush and all the men who consecrated this ground. Did he know I was here? Did he know why? And did he approveâ ¦? I desperately wanted him to. I wanted him to know that I was trying to understand what happened to Charles and the 76th here, and to Charles and many of his comrades at Andersonville and the Florence stockade. I wanted him to know that I, and the rest of the CR, remembered and that we'd never forget.

Somehow, in the morning sunshine, from somewhere beyond the tops of those trees across the field, he let me know that he was with us. Through some inexplicable means, I understood his presence that morning. He doesn't stay at Higgerson's Farm, or at Florence where he died but, rather, he comes and goes as he wishes.

Today he had come to see us.

And I knew that it was all right that we were here. Somehow he touched me - I knew that from the tears in my eyes. I was glad to be off by myself, and still more glad that he let me know.

Captain O'Bee was calling us to fall in. I went back, slung my hobo roll, and shouldered my rifle. It was time to march up into Higgerson's field. The company assembled in line near the top of the slope - it was just Ranger Stacy and us. This was our private moment, and not necessarily for the park's visitors. I unfolded the papers I carried and read aloud the words of the men of the 76th.

Many compliments have been paid me regarding the reading I was privileged to present that morning, but the words came from others who went before and, I believe, it was Charles Bush speaking from across the years.

[I'll say! As Mike Ryan read aloud, the humid air that Sunday morning at the back of that field was thick with emotion. I felt a tightness in my throat and got some misty eyes. Here and there Mike had to pause as he read. I looked down the line and everyone was in the same shape as me, and Ranger Stacy was dabbing the tears from her eyes. It was really something that's difficult to explain unless you were there. - Ed.]

"The emotion attached to the simple act of quietly planting a small U.S. flag next to an interpretive marker was made even more powerful knowing that at least 17,000 pairs of eyes way up above were watching a group of appreciative men break the Federal living history barrier on this sacred soil," Dave Towsen later wrote.

Yes, the boys of May 5, 1864 knew that we were there. It was the greatest of privileges for me simply to be here, with the Columbia Rifles, standing on truly hallowed ground with other men who appreciated in a visceral way precisely why we were here, and to remark upon the occasion.

But the words were not mine.

We returned to the park tour road, and Ranger Stacy inspected our weapons. While this was in progress, somehow Tom Craig managed to get his musket to stand vertically all by itself. No one knows how he managed that, but it sure looked cool. Afterward, we marched south down the park tour road to the Widow Tapp Farm where our weekend was to conclude. The march was about two miles along some nice, rolling terrain, and was all the more memorable for the fine men among whom I marched.

"Sunday's march was first rate," Rob Willis recalled, "But it too short. Still, it was lovely." One of our first-rate memories will always be Rob Carter singing as we hiked along.

Sparky put it thus, "The march to the Widow Tapp Farm was actually quite enjoyable. A few hills, a nicely shaded march route, and Rob Carter's singing all made for a very pleasant morning stroll." The march took about 45 minutes and, arriving at the "Widder's," we rested for ten minutes and then it was time to "get back to work." We refilled our canteens from Chawl's ever-present, ever-ready water wagon, kitted back up, and fell in.

At the Widow Tapp Farm the company served as a backdrop, or if you will as "props", for a really cool visitor walking tour conducted by NPS Ranger Stacy and Ranger Frank O'Reilly[1]. The tour lasted for over an hour and a half, and during it we portrayed Federal skirmishers who almost captured Robert E. Lee and A.P. Hill on May 5, 1864, we presented an artillery demonstration using Poage's Confederate guns, I got to read aloud for the visitors some accounts of the 76th New York's assault on a Confederate artillery position on May 6, 1864, and we even provided an interactive (for the visitors) marching demonstration in the footsteps of the 4th Texas Infantry. We were wearing blue suits, but the NPS wanted us to do it and, incredibly enough, it worked.

"Sunday was a wonderful day where we were treated to another first-rate presentation at the Widow Tapp Farm by the NPS," Chris Piering noted. "We walked the steps of the Texans who stymied the Union assault on the Reb center that day in May 1864."

"Our original ideas for activities at the Widow Tapp Farm changed when the NPS requested our support in a program they had planned," O'Bee related. "While having a company of Federals portray the charge of the 4th Texas is certainly different, I think it went well enough and gave folks a glimpse of the type of visitor experience the NPS was shooting for."

Agreed. It worked very well. Overall the hike was probably about another mile and a half (where have we heard that before?) and by the time it was over, it was after 12:30 p.m. and we were back by the park tour road.

Days later, the Widow Tapp's still occupied Rob Willis's thoughts: "My mind and heart are still zeroed on the little old black lady from Sunday. She and her daughter, dressed in their church clothes, hiked all over that field, even though it was clear that she could hardly take a step without pain. Then when she asked the question, 'What was it about Robert Lee that so many were willing to pass on for him?' Pass on for him - what poetry, and you could have heard a pin drop. It was a very profound moment, boiling down so many facets of the war into one little old woman asking an unanswerable question."

Soupbone again favored us and the visitors with a reading from the 124th New York, who fought in the Wilderness near the Widow Tapp Farm, and the visitors also got to see his great great-grandfather's orange ribbon - what a great combination: To hear history and touch, for a moment, a little piece of it.

"All of the readings were great," thought Brother Yoder. Certainly the labor that went into research for this event was clearly evident. Chris Piering agreed, "I am so proud to have been in the ranks to hear the heartfelt readings of Soupbone, Rob Carter, Pete, and others."

A brief skirmish demonstration in the Widow Tapp field ended our weekend on the battlefield. The lads broke into little groups, some talking to the visitors, and some heading to their cars to prepare for the trip home. By 2:00 p.m. the last of us were on the road headed toward home.

By 8:00 p.m. Pete, Sparky, O'Bee, and I were showered and scarfing down supper on the patio at O'Rorke's in Gettysburg, and getting a good laugh at the ghost tours that traipsed past our sidewalk-edge table.

It was a fabulous weekend from a reenacting viewpoint, but more important was what we had been allowed to experience through the hard work, dedication, and vision of others.

This article closes with the words of the men who were there that weekend:

"There are thanks to go around to the NPS, Kevin O'B-Wan, Charlie Kabuki, Sparky, and many others. Good on ya mates." - Chris Piering

"I want to personally thank O'Bee for his hard work in the CW2004 event. I enjoyed myself and was glad to have participated. It was a real honor to be on such hallowed ground." - Paul Rainey

"It was a good weekend of great tours and in a nice place. Plus a redheaded black powder specialist!" - "Brother Yoder" Hindman

"The park volunteers were friendly and knew a lot about the site. One helped me better understand the location of the pitiful Reb field hospital near Chancellorsville where Rice C. Bull of the 123rd New York laid in the mud for several days before being returned to the Yanks. After all was said and done, I walked over there on the way back, I saw a fellow at least in his 70s, right behind where we camped, hiking over to the Chancellor Cemetery. He was wearing his tan poplin summer Sunday best, sporting a fine pasteboard gift shop kepi on his head, and beaming with a smile. He was young at a time when he may have known a Civil War vet or two. Yep, these parks are very special." - "The Chawls" Heath

"All in all, I think this event went very well. I had fun and think I personally helped to keep history goen." - "Sparky" Henion

"There were some great things and a very few not so great things, but overall this outing left me with an extraordinary afterglow - my gauge for event quality." - Rob "Goat" Willis, a.k.a. Spider Bait

"All who came to Chancellorsville are in my book, the best bunch of guys I could ever command." - Lt. Pete "Lanky" Smith

"I want to thank Kevin, and the other folks involved for putting on a great event! Holding A2003 aside (I consider that more than a living history), I think that the Chancellorsville-Wilderness 2004 gig was the best living history that I have ever been to. Personally I find most living histories boring. We were never bored (there was no time to be!) and the evening down time was filled up with checking out the battlefield. The bonus hug from Stacy at the end was certainly the icing on the cake! Again, great job on the event!" - Tom Craig

"We were honored as hell to be the first reenactors in at least 25 years to be given the privilege to do living history programs at Chancellorsville and the Wilderness. The chance to do uniformed programs on those hallowed, blood-soaked fields of strife humbled me many times throughout the weekend. It was simply awesome to finally 'reenact' on the ground I've walked lots of times before, but never in broadcloth or flannel with a pack and period weapon on my shoulder...until now." - Captain Kevin O'Beirne

Mike Ryan is a member of the Columbia Rifles from western New York State

[1] Frank O'Reilly is the author of an excellent campaign history, The Fredericksburg Campaign: Winter War on the Rappahannock (Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press), 2002, 672 pages, among other works.