It sounds like you all had a very stimulating discussion about the Brundage book last week. And if your individual posts are any indication, the book gave you lots to think about in relation to the Dowling project.

One thing worth underscoring, I think, is Brundage’s argument that before the late twentieth century, white Southerners’ depictions of their past were closely wedded with a worldview that held considered “Anglo-Saxons” as the exemplars of “civilization.” This was true not only for the white women who organized heritage groups after the Civil War (see pp. 30ff), but also for the white male professional historians who tried to displace the women’s cultural authority. Even they often believed that their more “scientific” approach to the past confirmed white supremacy. Oftentimes these ideas about Anglo-Saxonism were not literally inscribed on monuments and museums, but instead appeared in professional articles or behind-the-scenes speeches and correspondence. For us, this history raises a couple of questions: how much did these views about race influence the white keepers of Dowling’s memory in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century? Did Dowling’s status as an Irishman complicate white Southern arguments about Anglo-Saxon supremacy?

I was glad that it sounds like “space” came up a lot in your discussions, as it also did particularly in the posts by Jaclyn and Ryan. I’d be interested in hearing more about Jocelyn’s comments about “eminent domain.” I think one of the things Brundage’s book should enable us to do is think some more about the location of Dowling’s statue at various moments in time. When our class first visited the statue, the reaction of most students was that the statue was in an out-of-the-way location. On the other hand, in some ways the statue sits on prime real estate (near Hermann Park and the Medical Center) that virtually ensures any attempt to move it or change it would not be a simple matter. I wonder if its location here is one reason why the Irish heritage group that sought to restore Dowling’s statue in the 1990s didn’t have a hard time convincing the city to devote resources to restore it, even hiring a high-priced appraisal and restoration firm to do so. Does that contrast with the ongoing and more arduous efforts of non-profit organizations to get Emancipation Park restored, I wonder?

Since you noted that Emancipation Park came up in Brundage’s book, it may even be worth thinking about how well the history of Emancipation Park fits into Brundage’s ideas about how “black memoryscapes”–because they were often places like parks instead of concrete things like statues–were more vulnerable to “redevelopment” than the monuments of white memory. There wasn’t a bulldozer that destroyed Emancipation Park the way Hayti was destroyed, but as Jaclyn noted in her report on the subject, the placement of US-59–a decision made by those who had political power in the city–contributed directly to the decline of the Third Ward and the park. Is it possible to imagine something similar happening to Hermann Park? Say, US-288 being directed so that it ran through Rice and Hermann? These are the sorts of questions that make me wonder whether how we should talk about the “space” that Dowling’s statue is in, and the resources that have been available to friends of that statue versus the ones available to friends of Emancipation Park. As you read through the HPL digital archive about Dowling, it’s striking, in a way, that there really isn’t much friction or question when the DD Irish Heritage Association approaches the city for help with restoration and rededication. But maybe the fact that there isn’t a “there” there is a story in and of itself, because it underlines how differential access to civic space by white and black Southerners can have long-lasting implications for the landscape of a city.

Finally, it sounds like you spent some time thinking about what Brundage’s book means for the way we represent Dowling in our exhibit. That’s exactly where I was hoping that the discussion would go! And I’m sure we’ll return to that question with next week’s reading. Jocelyn wonders whether a comprehensive Southern memory is even possible; Brundage seems to think probably not, since for him all representations of the past are acts of “intentional creation,” as Kat noted. For him, it’s encouraging enough that controversy about the past can now occur on more equal ground, that contests over the Southern past are ongoing, and that the lines being drawn in those contests aren’t always between black and white.

If it’s not possible for us to represent everything about the past in our exhibit, one question worth asking is one similar to the one Kat closes with. How will our exhibit be different from an exhibit created by the original statue creators. How will it be different from an exhibit created by the United Daughters of the Confederacy who helped maintain it thereafter? How will it be different from an exhibit put together by the group that renovated it in 1997 and portrayed Dowling solely as an Irish hero? What do we want to distinguish our exhibit and make it different from the representations of Dowling’s past that have come before?

Sorry that this follow-up post on Brundage is coming so late after your discussion. If you have follow-up thoughts, please feel free to post them here. Looking forward to seeing you next Wednesday, and in the meantime, have a great Spring Break!

As a follow-up to our discussion last Wednesday about how the battle of Sabine Pass would have looked from the perspective of slaves in Texas, you may find it interesting to glance at this book: Three Months in the Southern States: April-June, 1863 (1864), by Arthur John Fremantle.

Fremantle was an Englishman who wanted to see firsthand the condition of the Confederacy, for which he felt some sympathy and admiration. He spent much of his time in Texas, where he met Sam Houston and some of the major characters in the Cotham book, like General Magruder. Cotham cites Fremantle as a source because of his useful descriptions of Sulakowski’s fortifications around Galveston, but it’s also interesting to notice that Fremantle has a lot to say about slavery in the area and reports frequently about the movements of slaves and slaveholders in East Texas on the eve of the battle of Sabine Pass.

The book is available online, so if you have a moment, check out page 66, where Fremantle describes reaching Houston, and read to around page 91. What is happening to slavery in the area in these months just before Banks launches his attempt to land Union troops at Sabine Pass? Can you infer anything about why Confederate Texans were especially concerned about that landing in the fall of 1863?