Fields of Death

So why in the world did I backtrack to Nashville? Just down the expressway, right outside of Murfreesboro, is the Stones River National Battlefield. “Only” 24,000 men were killed or wounded here, making it the sixth bloodiest battle of the war. Only a fraction of the actual battlefield is a part of the National Battlefield. The rest is privately held. During the final phases of the battle, 1,800 confederates were killed or wounded in less than one hour. It seems their commander was a idiot and, despite his initial protests of the commanding officer’s orders, thought it would be a good idea to send his men across the ford at Stones River, up a hill and into the face of 45 cannon parked hub-to-hub. Other deadly spots included "The Slaughter Pen" and "Hell's Half Acre." One can easily imagine what happened there.

After this tactical draw, the Union General Rosecrans led the construction of fortress Rosecrans around Murfreesboro. Some of the embankments, like those around Corinth, still exist.

As with so many battlefields, the memorials to the fallen are really quite impressive. The size or the details in stone can just be stunning knowing most people (myself included) can’t make a good snowman. This battlefield has something a bit different. The oldest monument. Hazen’s Brigade came back just one year later (1863) and constructed a stone wall, around a small cemetery and memorial. It still stands. Interestingly enough, Hazen stayed in the service and ultimately spent time as a commanding officer at Fort Davis. More dots!


What was unquestionably the weirdest moment of the trip happened here. I started the battlefield tour on my one in the cemetery. So many soldiers are unknowns, so they have small simple stones at their grave. One stone, amongst the smaller stones, was taller and wider. I walked up to it. Jasper Quigley. Now, I’m sure that name means nothing to many people, but to me I recognized it. Well, part of it anyway. My mom does the family tree thing. Unlike so many people who have families that “came over here” in the early 20^th century, parts of my family have been here far longer. I have ancestors from the Civil War (both Union and Confederate) and even the War of 1812. Quigley is a name I know from my mom’s work. This man easily could be a relative. Very very……Twilight Zone (-doo-doo-DOO-do doo-doo-DOO-do-)

By this point, I realized that I needed to start making my way home. Sure, south-central Tennessee to Detroit can easily be done in a day’s drive, but I didn’t want to get all crazy with it. So, I plotted a course for Mammoth Cave National Park. Before I got on the expressway, I saw not one, not two, but THREE antique malls all next to each other. I put myself in “coffee mode” and blasted through all three in less than 45 minutes. I have a few more coffee tins for my efforts.

Once on the expressway, I had a Scissor-tailed Flycatcher cross the road in front me. Remember, south-central Tennessee. While they wander after breeding, that’s a good bird here!

Really bad rain prevented me from possibly camping at Mammoth, so I just continued onto to Cincinnati. Hooligan’s was the recommended place for dinner. They say they have award winning ribs. Yeah, right, everybody says that. THEY MEAN IT! I have never had ribs this good. It was not so much the sauce, but the meat texture. Stab it with your fork, twist it gently 90 degrees, and it drips right off the bone. I ate it with a fork and knife. I never picked up a rib. Amazing.

Unconditional Surrender

I got aI got a bite at the local diner. Brains and eggs were on the menu. As a biology guy, I had to ask the waitress: “Whose brains are they?” “Pig. Are you going to get some?” “No. Sounds gross.” “Good, I don’t like serving them…..”

After a quick, brainless breakfast, I was back at the battlefield. I wanted to make sure I saw the location where Confederate General Johnston died. He was a brilliant leader and had the habit of leading his troops into battle in front (as opposed to ordering them from behind and following them in). He was shot and bled to death while his staff frantically tried to find the wound. The artery in his leg was severed by a bullet that entered the backside of his knee while his knee-high boots hid the wound and captured the blood. Hmmmmmmmm, in the front of one’s own troops but shot in the back of the leg. Yes, indeed, he was accidently killed by his own men. A tourniquet was in his pocket.

At one point, I accidently flushed an Eastern Bluebird. It had built a nest in a barrel of a piece of field artillery.

As always, I took some time As always, I took some time to the check out the interpretive center. I watched a video on the battle (even though I had a good idea of what was going on). Oh my, they need a few bucks in their budget for some updates. The film was from 1956 and looked every bit of it.

It was here that a peculiar thought struck me. John Wesley Powell enlisted with the 20^th Illinois Volunteers. At Shiloh, he was injured and lost his arm. That did not stop him from being one the greatest explorers in the American West, including the Grand Canyon (by boat). He ultimately went on to be a director for the US Geological Survey. What is so peculiar about that? It marks another time where I have visited some of the same places as key people in history. Powell was at Shiloh and the Grand Canyon. Me, too. Wyatt Earp, the famous lawman, spent some time in Tombstone, Arizona, and Nome, Alaska. I’ve been to those places, as well. I have been to the Wright Brothers Bicycle shop in Dayton, Ohio and Kill Devil Hills in North Carolina. Just connecting dots, I guess…

From here, I opted to head back south into extreme Northern Mississippi and re-visit the Corinth Civil War Interpretive Center. Yes, I was there the day before, but I literally got there when it was closing. Now, I had a chance to check it out. Very new and very well done. In the back, they had what I would simply call a water sculpture. It was very similar to the one at the Franklin Roosevelt Memorial in Washington DC. It has undisturbed flowing water in the beginning of the “timeline”, followed by a jumble of rocks and then peaceful calm waters again. The jumbled rocks were labeled with all the major battles of the civil war. Pretty neat.

I also took a few minutes and checked out some of the remaining civil war fortifications. Scattered around Corinth, one can still see the earth embankments that had been constructed by the Union in 1862 after they captured Corinth. From a distance, they just look like small woodlots. Enter the woods, and the walls and pits are obvious.

From here, I shot due north to Fort Donelson National Battlefield. The picturesque bluffs over the Cumberland River were the site of two day engagement in February of 1862. It was here that Ulysses S. Grant uttered those famous words: "No terms except an unconditional and immediate surrender can be accepted." U.S. Grant? Unconditional Surrender Grant? Get it? The fall of the fort (the first Union victory of the war) led to further invasions of Tennessee, ultimately leading to Shiloh and Stone’s River. From a bird standpoint, it was here that I located Osprey and Bald Eagle; the river is perfect for them. The hotel where Buckner surrendered to Grant still stands. It is near the Cemetery. The trenches used as defensive positions of the Confederates are still very clear. This battle field is much smaller, but still very impressive.

Realizing still had time in the day, I headed off to Nashville. Totally forgetting that Nashville attracts people from all around wtih kitch, sequined boots, and family groups singing bad music, I struggled with lodging. I landed a KOA again. Ugh. Oh but they had a concert in the music hall! Where’s my barf bucket?

Bullets Like Hornets

By sunrise, I was out the door. I had planned on driving to southwest Tennessee. TC took me there via extreme northern Mississippi. I have never been to Mississippi. While I was only 10 miles or so inside the state line, I was there. Now I can say I have been to Mississippi! 39 states down. Only 11 more to go! After a brief stop at the Corinth Civil War Interpretive Center a brand new National Park Service facility, I made my way to Savannah, Tennessee for grub and bed. After dinner, I had some time before I lost daylight, so I did something, I have never done before: I walked a Civil War battlefield at sundown. In this case, Shiloh National Military Park.

The battle of Shiloh was a boondoggle. Basically, General Grant was caught with his head in dark place, (not a bottle). 44,000 thousands Confederate troops snuck up on his men (how do you do that?) and whipped them back to the Tennessee River. Overnight, he received thousands of reinforcements and, in turn, beat the Confederate butts the following day. When all was said and done, 23,000 were dead or wounded, making it the 7^th bloodiest battle of the Civil War. “Shiloh”, by the way, is Hebrew for “Place of Peace."

Walking the roads that still exist and looking at the stones in the cemetery sends chills up your spine. Visualizing thousands of Union troops massed along the Tennessee River at Pittsburg Landing? Wow. There are several Confederate Burial Trenches in the park. Its one grave, but it contain the remains of hundreds of soldiers, whose identities will forever be unknown. The Chuck-wills-widow calling by the cemetery was creepy. Lots of widows after April 7, 1862. As the sun set, bats come out in force (no, they didn’t get in my hair) and Wood Frogs were calling at Bloody Pond (it was red with blood by the end of the battle).

The sun setting across the field by the "Hornets Nest" was very peaceful. It was said that the intensity of Confederate bullets entering the woods where the Union had set up defences were so thick it reminded one of a swarm of hornets. The picture here is actually as viewed by the Union (the "Nest" is to left out of view). This open field is where the Confederates crossed multiple times in attempt to eliminate the position.

Just Relaxin'

This was one of the most laid back days one could ask for. I have known Neal since the second grade. We had a late, casual breakfast and some time in downtown Dallas. The bank in the downtown has an observation deck on the 49^th floor. What a view! Dinner was at the Capital Pub where I enjoyed two new beers. Golden Monkey, from the Victory Brewing Company, was simply off. I was not sure what the problem was, but it was just...off. The Cassis, from Broerij Lindemn, was made with black currants. It was very tart, but still okay for a fruit beer. I really needed those grapes.

The antique store up the street had a very early model Gaggia espresso machine. The huge kind. I mean huge. Probably four feet wide. Brass accents. A real beauty. $2800.00. He offered half off and would ship it. Ohhhhh, if I had a bigger place….and more money….

Wild Duck Chase

At sunrise, I was hitting the various parks and waterways in the region. No luck. I even put a call in to Anahuac National Wildlife Refuge. Apparently, they can be found there, too, but I had to leave a message on the machine. It was 50 miles away on the wrong side of Houston and I was simply not ready to drive that far (Ha!) for a “maybe”. So, I opted to make my way to Dallas (I had made prior arrangements to spend a day with a friend).

On my way to Dallas, I found an antique mall. While buying a glass jar from the Duncan Coffee Company (still sealed with the original coffee which is likely still more fresh than Folgers!), I got the call frmo Anuhauc. I explained I was an out-of-state birder and that I was hoping to see a Fulvous Whistling-Duck. She was pretty sure they were around, but she volunteered to head out and double check for me. 10 minutes laters, she called again. Anahuac had the birds! The now 100 miles did not seem so far. By the time I got there (through thunderstorms that were really somethings else, a slow drizzle was falling. But, there they were. Dozens of them. FULVOUS WHISTLING-DUCK (life bird #620) Well, I am there now, right? Might as well drive a bit in the rain and see what happens. The bird of the afternoon? Rail royalty: the King Rail. It was right in front of my car. Watching scores of White-faced Ibis move through the scores was pretty cool, too.

With that, I plotted a course to Neal’s place. I was there in 5 hours. Along the way, I spotted some Mississippi Kites.