From: Noel Harrison

A panoramic chromolithograph, View of Fredericksburg, VA, published in 1856 and sampled from time to time on this blog, offers a contemporary database of incredible scope and accuracy as we enter the sesquicentennial of the town’s first Union occupation and first battle.  As orientation for discussing a number of magnified details, here’s a medium-rez look at the picture:

 

What follows is the first in a projected, short series of posts that will review the chromolithograph’s own history; its testimony to the antebellum appearance, development, and self-image of Fredericksburg; and its documentation of the wartime landscape of 1862, six years into the future–little changed in some aspects from the picture of 1856 but altered markedly in others.

Edward Sachse & Co. of Baltimore published View of Fredericksburg, VA in 1856.  Sachse & Co., which had already produced panoramic views of Alexandria and Washington, D.C., as well as of Baltimore, began work on the Fredericksburg picture by dispatching an artist, or artists, to the town.  Judging from John W. Reps’ book, Views and Viewmakers of Urban American, Sachse artist James T. Palmatary was probably responsible for walking Fredericksburg and its outskirts and preparing at least some of the reference sketches in 1855 and/or 1856.  These were then compiled as a master drawing, which back in Baltimore was etched onto smoothed pieces of limestone for printing.

Preparation of the master drawing had involved a key rearrangement of data:  re-picturing the human’s-eye, ground-level drawings of Fredericksburg and its individual buildings from a single, high “bird’s-eye” angle, to show the complete town while maximizing information about individual structures. 

The final perspective for View of Fredericksburg, VA looked across and over the town from a point just across the Rappahannock River and hovering above Stafford Heights, about a half mile from the RF&P Railroad bridge over the river, and a quarter of a mile or so from the farmstead that occupied the site of George Washington’s boyhood home. 

Speaking of which, someone is plowing a field at the former Washington property (known after the Washington era as “Ferry Farm”), while travelers arrive at the adjacent landing of the namesake ferry:

Fast forward from 1856 to December 1862:  artist Alfred Waud positions himself beside the ferry landing to sketch Union bridge-builders under fire at the Middle Pontoon Crossing.  A week later, following the defeated Federals’ retreat across the river, some of them convert “an old cherry-tree” on or near Ferry Farm into “all sorts of crosses, pipes, rings, etc., that can be sent away by mail” as mementoes of George Washington. 

From Eric Mink:

This is the final installment in the documentation of Aquia Church’s Civil War soldier graffiti. Previous posts on this subject can be found here.

In late November 1862, Union General Ambrose Burnside brought his Army of the Potomac to Stafford County. Intent on pushing south toward Richmond, delays and logistical problems plagued Burnside’s plans. His army remained idle as events developed that eventually resulted in the December Battle of Fredericksburg. It was during this waiting period that at least two soldiers from the 6^th Army Corps visited Aquia Church and added their names to the building’s soft sandstone quoins.

The 21^st New Jersey Infantry was a short term regiment. Its members enlisted for the brief period of nine months. Organized in September 1862, the regiment reached Stafford County on November 18 and went into camp along Aquia Creek. Some of the men in this regiment attended services at Aquia Church.

“On the 23d we went to divine worship about one mile from camp to an old Presbyterian church built of imported English brick in the year 1701, it was destroyed by fire in 1754 but rebuilt in 1758.” – Diary of Henry Taylor, Co. K, 21^st New Jersey Infantry. Copy of typescript in FRSP Bound Volume #73

"H Smith 21 NJV"

It is likely that at this time “H. Smith” of the 21^st New Jersey left his name on Aquia Church. It can not be said with any certainity who Smith was, as there are three potential candidates for this soldier on the regimental rolls. The first two, Private Henry Smith of Company A and Corporal Henry C. Smith of Company B, both served their full nine-month enlistment with the 21^st New Jersey and mustered out of service on June 19, 1863. The third candidate was not so lucky.

Humphrey Smith was a 29-year old laborer from Monmouth, New Jersey. He enlisted on August 27, 1862 and a month later mustered into Company E of the 21^st New Jersey Infantry. He survived the Battle of Fredericksburg only to succumb to “brain fever” near Belle Plain in Stafford County on March 22, 1863. Originally buried at Robert Lee’s farm, his remains were removed after the war and buried Grave #6132 in the Fredericksburg National Cemetery.

Grave of Humphrey Smith in the Fredericksburg National Cemetery, which erroneously identifies him as from New York.

Four days following the 21^st New Jersey’s services at Aquia Church, some members of the 6^th Maine Infantry paid a visit to the sanctuary. Corporal Benjamin Thaxter of that regiment noted in his diary entry for November 27 that he and his sergeant went “to see an old church that was built in 1757.” Private William A. Jellison also visited the church around this time and opted to leave his lasting mark on the building.

From John Hennessy:

Here is a portion of our latest piece of original art, developed by Frank O’Reilly and executed by artist Mark Churms. This will be used in the new exhibit we are planning for the Fredericksburg Battlefield Visitor Center, and also likely on a wayside exhibit atop Marye’s Heights. The image shows guns of the Washington Artillery firing over the Sunken Road, into the killing field beyond. That’s the Stephens House and Innis House at center and left, with the brick Stratton House beyond.  The piece will eventually be made available for sale by Mr. Churms. 

We like it and thought you might be interested to see a little slice of what’s going on hereabouts. 

 

Copyright Mark Churms. All rights reserved.

 

From John Hennessy:

Among the many queries we get, it is one of the most common: how many civilians remained in Fredericksburg during the war’s darkest months?  It’s a complicated question, for we know that there was no single exodus that can be easily measured. Lizzie Alsop’s diary records many comings and goings by her family, as do both Betty Maury’s and Jane Beale’s. Some families, like the Lacys of Chatham, left when the Union army arrived in the spring of 1862. By far the largest exodus took place in November 1862, when the Union army arrived for the second time–this time destined to fight.  But we also know that many of those (like Jane Beale) who left in November returned to their homes in early December, when the threat of battle seemed to lessen (thank the Union pontoon trains for that red herring). Many of those souls suffered violent correction on December 11 when the Union army did indeed stir.

Innumerable accounts of that day note the presence of civilians, and indeed several of them wrote vivid accounts of their experiences during bombardment. For our purposes, perhaps the best description comes from confectioner Edward Heinichen, who took a walk through town during an afternoon lull (Heinichen’s memoir was published in the 2007 edition of Fredericksburg History and Biography, which you can purchase here).

I soon left my friend’s house to take a walk through the town, meeting many people, few in the streets, but many more or less sheltered by their houses, eagerly watching the havoc from doors and windows, and I must say that few, women and men showed any fear but plenty of excitement. I saw one darkey crouching behind a thick plank fence where he imagined himself perfectly safe from shot and shell, cordially inviting me to join him there. Meeting Judge M. Herndon, he remarked in his most pleasant manner: ["]This looks as if we had had a most extraordinary hailstorm.["]

We know that the crossing of the Union troops following the bombardment inspired more than a few civilians, including Heinichen and Beale, to leave, and that evening witnessed a fairly frantic exodus to points in Spotsylvania County.  Still, some residents remained behind (as evidenced by the memoir of Mamie Wells, who left the only account of a resident who remained throughout the battle that followed).  The town was certainly never “empty,” as some observers claimed.

From Eric Mink:

For previous posts documenting soldier graffiti in the Fredericksburg area, including Aquia Church in Stafford County, click here.

The Union Army of the Potomac arrived in Stafford County in November 1862 and stayed through the following June. In excess of 120,000 Union soldiers occupied Stafford and their presence devastated farms, woodlots and forced many families to flee their homes. The camps of this massive army spread across the woods and fields of the eastern portion of the county, taking advantage of the transportation lines of the Potomac River and the Richmond, Fredericksburg and Potomac Railroad.

To protect itself, the army set up exterior lines of defense that guarded approaches from the north, south and west. The duty to patrol and picket this outer perimeter fell, most often, to the cavalry. Aquia Church’s location, north of Stafford Court House, placed it close to those picket lines and made it a logical campsite for Union horsemen. In early February 1863, Colonel Thomas C. Devin’s Second Brigade, First Division of the Cavalry Corps took advantage of Aquia Church, as one Pennsylvania trooper called it “a beautiful place, located on high ground in a fine oak grove.”

Aquia Church - Stafford, Va.

Reverend Henry Wheeler, Chaplain of the 17^th Pennsylvania Cavalry, seized the opportunity to use the church for its intended purposes.

“I found a guard placed there by General [Thomas L.] Kane, to protect the church. I went to General Kane and obtained an interview with him. I asked him to give me permission to use the church for religious purposes. He said, ‘I sent a guard there without being asked to do so by the vestry, and of course I can take it away at my pleasure. I am glad, Mr. Wheeler, that I have an opportunity of showing, at least once, that I consider the two churches, Protestant Episcopal and Methodist Episcopal as one.’

I expressed my thanks to the general for his kindness and retired. The guard was sent back to their regiment, and men of the Seventeenth were detailed to clean the church and put it in condition for religious service.” – Reverend Henry Wheeler, “The Chaplain and His Work,” in Henry P. Moyer, History of the Seventeenth Regiment Pennsylvania Volunteer Cavalry (Lebanon, Penn.: Sowers Printing Company, 1911) pp. 263-268

From John Hennessy:

A tobacco factory would seem an unlikely place for a military hospital, but during the exceedingly polite Confederate presence in Fredericksburg during the first year of the war there were few other options. (The Union army used churches, stores, hotels, homes, and the courthouse–none of which were accessible to those bent on politeness in 1861). We don’t know the circumstances that led the Confederate army to take over the tobacco factory of Alexander Gibbs and his partner John F. Alexander (there is no record, for example, of the Confederates leasing the building or of their commandeering it), but by late June of 1861, as the landscape around Fredericksburg filled with spanking new Confederate troops (including some from Tennessee and Arkansas), Gibbs’s and Alexander’s tobacco factory on Prussia street held upwards of 150 sick Confederate soldiers.  Betty Herndon Maury recorded on June 26:

Betty Herndon Maury

The sick suffer a great deal for want of proper medical attendance and good nursing.  Many of the soldiers are laid on the floor when brought in, and are not touched, or their cases looked into, for twenty-four hours.  One or two died when no one was near them; they were found cold and stiff several hours afterwards.  The other night at ten o’clock, when one of the ladies left, there was not a soul in the house besides the sick men.  Every one in town has been interested in them.

The wretched conditions at the hospital soon spurred the community to action.  Two days after Maury’s gloomy assessment, the Fredericksburg News reported:

From Eric Mink:

After the previous post (here) focusing on Confederate graffiti at Aquia Church, a closer look revealed yet another carving. The work of this vandal can also be attributed to a member of the 5^th Texas Infantry.

“GJR Co A 5Tex-------“

George Julian Robinson was a rather unique soldier in the 5^th Texas. Robinson was in fact a native of Delaware. Born in 1838, young George lived in Georgetown, Delaware with his parents and siblings. According to one source, Robinson spent the 1850s working as an engineer on the Delaware Railroad. The 1860 Census, however, lists his occupation at that time as “Student of Dentistry.” (Photos identified as Robinson can be found here)

Why Robinson chose to support the Confederacy is a bit of mystery. Delaware historian Dr. John A. Munroe, in an undated sketch of Robinson, claims that George and a relative were determined to join the Confederates. They slipped through the front lines and traveled to Virginia’s Eastern Shore in the fall of 1861, eventually making their way to Yorktown. Picked up as northern spies, the two men were sent to Richmond. Through the assistance of friends, they obtained their release.

From Eric Mink:

The following is the first in a series of three posts documenting Civil War graffiti at Aquia Church in Stafford County, Va. For a listing of all posts dealing with soldier graffiti in the Fredericksburg area, click here.

Stafford County, Virginia’s role in the Civil War is most frequently identified with the Union Army of the Potomac’s encampment during the winter of 1862-1863. The county had, however, felt the stress and strain of an earlier “occupation” when elements of the Confederate Army of the Potomac spent the winter of 1861-1862 encamped within its boundaries. Soldiers from both armies left their mark in Stafford and perhaps no place in the county shows the personal reminder of the Civil War better than at Aquia Church.

Aquia Church – Stafford, Va.

Aquia Episcopal Church sits along US Route 1 (formerly Telegraph Road) three miles north of Stafford Court House. Construction on the church began in 1751. Nearly complete four years later, it burned and was rebuilt utilizing the existing walls in 1757.  The church is constructed of brick with locally quarried Aquia Creek sandstone used for its quoins, keystones and door frames. (Aquia Creek Sandstone was also used in the construction of Gunston Hall, the US Capitol and the White House.)

Stafford County found itself on the front lines during the first year of the Civil War. Following the July 1861 Battle of Manassas, Confederate General Joseph E. Johnston’s Army of the Potomac developed a defensive line that spread across Prince William County, Virginia, protecting the approaches from Washington, D.C. The Confederates also erected batteries and defenses along the Potomac River in an effort to hamper Union naval and shipping movements. This line was defended throughout the first winter of the war and as the Potomac River forms the eastern boundary of Stafford County many Confederates established camps throughout the region.

Telegraph Road was a primary route between Fredericksburg and the Confederate winter quarters in northern Stafford and Prince William Counties. Fredericksburg served as an important supply point and also housed Confederate hospitals during that first winter. As a prominent landmark along Telegraph Road, Aquia Church saw its fair share of visitors.

In early November 1861, the Fourth and Fifth Texas infantry regiments arrived at Brooke’s Station in Stafford County. They continued northward to Dumfries, where they joined the 1^st Texas and Eighteenth Georgia regiments, thus creating what would become known as the Texas Brigade. The Texans spent the next few months camped at Dumfries, guarding the Potomac and other nearby points. They also found time to visit Aquia Church.

The quoins on Aquia Church are covered with graffiti. Much of it is illegible, much of it is from the 20^th century, but there do remain visible names, initials and Civil War military designations carved into the soft sandstone. Three pieces of soldier graffiti can be attributed to members of the 5^th Texas.

From John Hennessy:

In answering a research request today, I came across this remarkable description of President Davis and Robert E. Lee, down to the hair growing out of Lee’s ears. The occasion was a service at St. Thomas’s Episcopal Church in Orange on November 22, 1863–just a few days before the Union army crossed the Rapidan to commence the Mine Run Campaign. The soldier was a commissary officer in the 47th North Carolina (the original is privately owned; a typescript resides in the park’s collection).  The letter reflects a type of writing that has, in the age of photography and video, largely disappeared from our world: the art of physical and personal description.  It largely speaks for itself.

St. Thomas Church today, courtesy of their website.

This morning I went with a friend up to Orange to attend church, the Episcopal. The motive that induced me particularly was the hope of seeing no less a personage than Pres. Davis, having learned that he came up on the train from Richmond yesterday. We were at the church early to secure seats, entered by the left door and sat near the middle of the house and near the left hand wall, the church fronting west. The services were commenced, by a young clergyman, evidently the rector, but Gen. Pendleton was seated near, in his black robe. You may remember that I gave you an account of a fast day sermon he preached in the same house last summer. He is in command of all the artillery n Gen. Lee’s army….

Pres. Davis and Gen. Lee entered while the young clergyman was reading a prayer and the congregation had bowed their heads. On looking up, I discovered very near me the well known form and face of Gen. Lee, and on his left, the thin, bony face that reminds one so forcibly of a postage stamp as to excite a smile. He was dressed in a plain dark citizen’s dress, with a worn brown overcoat thrown loosely over his shoulders, of which he divested himself on rising to take part in the service. His hair is slightly grey and his hair cut short. His face tapers to a point at the chin. If he were a plain common man he would be called “Lantern-pawed.” His cheeks are prominent. A very thin beard hangs under his chin….He is evidently careworn and pale from the burden of responsibility and the mental anxiety consequent on his office.

From John Hennessy:

"Fairfield," the Chandler Plantation at Guinea Station, before the removal of the big house (left), early 1900s. The farm office where Jackson died is at right, and survives.

The great risks that attended secession did not become obvious to many Southerners until the experiment failed, until the South was vanquished. In diaries and letters written during the months following Appomattox, the people in and around Fredericksburg struggled to reconcile defeat with the immense losses the community, state, and South had suffered. In May 1865, Lizzie Alsop of Princess Anne Street wailed,”Each day increases the weight upon our hearts; & we feel more accutely the loss we have sustained; our country, our cause, our all.”  A other great example can be found in this letter from Hannah Rawlings of Spotsylvania County.

As witness to more Southern sacrifice than any other place in the nation, the Fredericksburg region symbolized the cost of war acutely. A few residents seem to have been much aware of the immense investment the Confederacy had made here, and sought to justify that sacrifice with honor.  Here is a letter from Guinea Station, written in 1866 (it appeared in the Fredericksburg Ledger  on June 29). The letters speaks to the nexus between wartime and postwar suffering and the need to honor the sacrifices embodied at the failed attempt to create the Confederate States of America.

The farm office at Jackson Shrine today.

Guiney’s Depot,  Caroline County, Va.

Editor of the Ledger:

            DEAR SIR:–I suppose you can, in some degree, appreciate the condition of the people at present;  we are without money and nothing to see to get it; there is a complete failure in the wheat crops in my neighborhood.

            I have intended for some time to give you some account of the way in which the anniversary of the death of our much lamented Jackson was spent in the neighborhood of Guiney’s depot, by the patriotic young ladies and gentlemen in that vicinity.  They turned out on that day and made up and decorated with flowers, over one hundred greaves of the Confederate soldiers, mostly from the Southern States.  I think such things should be published to let the friends of those who fell in our country’s cause know that they are not forgotten by the people of Virginia; that their husbands and sons, though filling soldier’s graves, are alive in the hearts of those who were engaged in a common cause.  Much credit is due, especially to the ladies, for this manifestation of their respect to the soldiers; much has been done, and I hope much more will be done in honor of the soldiers who lost their lives in behalf of our beloved, though unfortunate country.

            With my best wishes for your prosperity, I subscribe myself yours with respect.

                                                                            J. M. B.