We just got back from a four-day trip to Virginian battle sites of the Civil war. Since half the action of the war occurred between Washington and Richmond, one can reach half a dozen sites within a half hour's drive. We stayed in Fredericksburg, which was also the first stop, but took in Chancellorsville and Manassas on successive days, as well. We didn't have time for the Wilderness and Spotsylvania, but, judging by what we saw of Chancellorsville, there wasn't much to see. Trees obscured everything - naturally enough, given that the battles were fought in the tangled forest of the Wilderness. Less accountably, huge tree lines obscured the bulk of Fredericksburg, too. I can resign myself to the encroachment of private development, but there's no reason for park services to hide a broad view of the battlefield behind a high treeline, next to which a sign describes the dangers of crossing an open plain in full view of the enemy.
In fairness, the Virginia sites disappointed because Gettysburg, which we saw last year, is wonderful. (As Eileene observed, Fredericksburg is what I had expected Gettysburg to be.) So I'm going to talk about that instead.
Gettysburg has enormous natural advantages in its dramatic ground. Even an unpracticed eye like mine can easily identify the important topography, and, more importantly, why it's important. The battlefield is a broad valley between two low ridges, just sufficiently separated that guns can't quite reach across; the two armies would only naturally perch on either crest. From any point on either ridge, one can see most of the ground. Little Round Top clearly dominates one flank, Culp's Hill the other. (Big Round Top, which looks inviting on paper, is obviously a poor position seen in reality, its dense growth and distance from the action obvious even to amateurs.) The Devil's Den would be a tiring climb even without enemy fire, and the broad field of Pickett's charge looks hopelessly dangerous to a 20th century observer imagining machine guns rather than muzzle-loaders. The scale of the battlefield is large enough to impress, but small enough to grasp how everything fits together. It's hard to imagine a more instructive site for an armchair general to visit.
The extent of land preserved is remarkable too, stretching from the initial engagement northwest of Gettysburg to well past the eye of the "fishhook" at Little Round Top. No houses, no ice cream stands, no nothin'. Going in, I expected a tourist trap; instead, the tourist industry lies in Gettysburg proper, but stays well clear of the battlefield. Only commemorative monuments every fifteen yards or so along Seminary Road objectify the site, making it something to look at, rather than feel part of. Three observation stations are welcome aids yet remain unobtrusive frameworks around the edges of the field.
As in all the battlegrounds we've seen so far, visitors are welcome to get right up close to everything, peer out of gun emplacements, walk between firing positions and firing ground. I'm not sure I agree with this policy; surely visitor traffic will wear away even stones of Devil's Den, given time. But it is a terrific scene for anyone lucky enough to get there while it lasts.
My advice is to see it while it does. I also recommend buying the audio tours available at any visitor center. They can be very helpful in getting your bearings, especially following Jackson's route through the forest near Chancellorsville.