ICHMOND, Va., Nov. 20 One hundred thirty-six years
after Grant took Richmond, reconciling the bloody shards of the
Civil War is not getting any easier.
Ask H. Alexander Wise Jr., president of the Tredegar National Civil War Center Foundation, an
attempt to heal some war wounds by presenting Confederate,
African-American and Union versions of the War Between the States
under one all-inclusive, all-tolerant roof.
"We need a civil discussion of a very uncivil war," said Mr.
Wise, a descendant of a Confederate general and a former director of
historic preservation for Virginia. "You have to get beyond the
symbolism and into the facts."
Mr. Wise's idea is that 21st century history buffs should finally
be invited to look beyond old biases and battle flags and delve side
by side into the broader, richer truth of the war.
In an instantaneous furor, however, this effort is spurring
strong resistance from dedicated Northerners because Mr. Wise
negotiated an agreement to receive valuable Union artifacts for the
Tredegar project from Philadelphia's Civil War Library and Museum.
Defenders suddenly rallied round this 113-year-old institution years
after it came upon hard budgetary times and low attendance in the
shadow of Philadelphia's more popular offerings on the
Revolution.
On another skirmish line, Robin E. Reed, the director here of the
Museum of the Confederacy, abruptly resigned his post this month,
with supporters contending he was purged because of his enthusiasm
for helping the Tredegar's effort at telling a more inclusive story
of the war.
"Robin wasn't pro-Southern enough," contended one ranking
professional in the museum field who spoke on the condition of not
being identified. "His taking a balanced approach in his own
exhibits disturbed members of his board," said this historian,
speculating the Museum of the Confederacy might become more closely
aligned with conservative donors and supporters of the current
statehouse fights over the Confederate flag.
But J. E. B. Stuart IV, president of the Museum of the
Confederacy, denies that Mr. Reed was forced out and emphasizes that
his museum, long a shrine for Confederate die- hards and a peerless
resource for scholars, is committed wholeheartedly to lending
artifacts to the Tredegar effort.
"This is a wonderful opportunity to tell the Confederate story to
a larger audience," said Mr. Stuart, whose downtown museum has
become landlocked with the growth of a surrounding hospital. Mr.
Wise's project, which he plans to have in place in four years, will
be housed in the Tredegar Confederate ironworks and cannon factory
on a far more picturesque site on the riverfront.
Mr. Wise hopes to prevail with his Philadelphia exchange and
bring in a Union collection that includes memorabilia from such
principals as Ulysses S. Grant, not to mention the stuffed head of
Gen. George Meade's horse, Old Baldy.
But the opponents, including scholars and Northern war buffs and
led by the Pennsylvania Attorney General's office, denounce the plan
as a violation of the original donors' intention to keep their Union
memorabilia in Philadelphia. A decision is expected soon in their
challenge in the Pennsylvania courts.
Mr. Wise already has a commitment to root the story of African-
Americans, who long have felt slighted in Civil War retellings, in a
collection of 3,000 wartime artifacts from John Motley, an
African-American insurance executive from Hartford who is a director
of the Civil War Preservation Trust.
"That subject is the elephant in the room," said Mr. Wise, keen
to end the neglect of Civil War blacks. Here in modern Richmond, the
capital of the old Confederacy where the majority of residents now
are African-American, a civic brouhaha erupted last year over a
waterfront history display that included a pride-tinged banner of
Robert E. Lee.
"It caused some good, visceral dialogue," said Cynthia MacLeod,
the superintendent of the Richmond National Battlefield Park. This
is the federal government's year-old Civil War center directly
adjacent to the Tredegar Ironworks.
"One of the reasons to have museums is to make people think about
things," said Ms. MacLeod, encouraged by the Lee controversy. Her
center, while restricted in size, attracted 60,000 visitors in its
first year. The Richmond region offers 43 major battle sites within
30 miles of the city. "We have to talk about history inclusively and
respectfully."
But how much museum space and financing this history-steeped city
can afford is an open question. Mr. Wise, insisting there is room
for his effort and its $13 million fund-raising goal, said the
Smithsonian Institution could be an alternative source for Northern
artifacts if the Philadelphia offering is blocked.
There is a Black History Museum in Richmond. And 60 miles to the
north, in Fredericksburg, former Gov. L. Douglas Wilder announced
plans last month to build a National Slavery Museum, 30 miles south
of Washington.
"This is how we've come to be," said Mr. Wilder, the grandson of
slaves who promised a candid and engaging museum for all Americans.
"It has nothing to do with guilt or blame. It's to deal with what
was and what is."
Whatever comes of the assorted plans and conflicts, Richmond has
already been venturing into fresh looks at some controversial
aspects of the war.
Mr. Reed in particular is praised by museum professionals for
programs he pioneered in his 14 years at the Museum of the
Confederacy. These included exhibits on women's shifting views as
the war's body count mounted, an extensive depiction of slavery in
the South, and what enthusiasts hailed as a cool-headed examination
of the Confederate flag as a cultural icon.
"I'm very proud of my body of work," said Mr. Reed.
The Confederacy museum, which includes the restored Southern
White House where President Jefferson Davis lived, has a treasure of
documents, photographs, maps and artifacts, from Lee's headquarters
flag to Gen. J. E. B. Stuart's plumed hat.
Skeptics are watching to see if the Confederacy trustees will
truly cooperate with the Tredegar project. But Mr. Stuart,
descendant of the bold general, insists a new direction is at hand.
This is seconded by Henry Kidd, state commander of the Sons of
Confederate Veterans, the fervid traditionalists lately waging
statehouse fights for the Confederate flag. Quoting Dr. Martin
Luther King Jr., Mr. Kidd says that an end to mutual stereotyping
should be the final armistice in the old war.
"Honoring my ancestors has nothing to do with racism," Mr. Kidd
insisted. "It's time to sit down and talk at the same table."