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. 

The 1856 panorama is comparable to a modern website in both its accessibility—an easy-to-grasp overall portrayal—and its richness, once the viewer begins to plumb the depths of that image, especially when magnification is handy.  As printed and sold, each View of Fredericksburg, VA was large…just several inches shy of two feet by three feet in size. 

Its accuracy is extraordinary, especially in the main picture of the town, where one might expect far less precision than in the nine large vignettes arrayed along the bottom.  Yet even a couple of houses on Caroline Street that are tiny compared with many of the other structures in the main view are correctly distinguished from one another by the artist’s placement of their porches (and those shown correctly as one-story in height):  130 Caroline with a single porch, and the duplex at 132-134 Caroline with a pair of porches:

Fast forward to December 1862:  the same houses sustain the artillery damage that comes to make them nationally publicized symbols of wartime devastation, once they are photographed by James Gardner in May 1864 and then published, as stereographs during the 1860’s and 1880’s and as book illustrations beginning in 1894:

Color, moreover, is used in the Sachse panorama to distinguish the bottom, sandstone level of the Market House/Town Hall from the two brick levels above:

Fast forward to July 1862:  the Federals’ summertime occupation of Fredericksburg emboldens longtime Unionist editor James Hunnicutt to resume publication of the Christian Banner newspaper in its prewar office and printshop in the Market House/Town Hall.  Hunnicutt uses the issue of July 2, 1862 to reflect upon self-emancipation by enslaved people, and his own recent conversion to the cause of antislavery:  “changes are being made and new relations are being formed.  Servants are everywhere leaving their masters…. constantly flocking into Fredericksburg from the extreme borders of Essex, Hanover, King and Queen, Louisa, Caroline, Culpepper, Orange, Madison, Albemarle, and all the counties in the northern neck of Virginia, and from all parts of Spottsylvania county.  Did the ‘Yankees’ go to all these different localities and ‘steal away the negroes?  No: the negroes voluntarily leave their homes and come to Fredericksburg. …the slaves of Virginia have an idea of freedom…and are determined to be free…. That the condition of many of the present generation will ever be bettered, we do not believe; while, on the other hand, we do not think that the condition of some of them can be very much worsted.”

View of Fredericksburg, VA is not perfect.  It greatly exaggerates, for instance, the distance between the southern edge of town (left edge in the main picture, top) and Hazel Run (flowing across upper left).

And the first Mary Washington Monument, begun in 1833, is portrayed as a complete structure.  The reality, however, was quite different, as suggested in a woodcut from the Harper’s Weekly issue of December 6, 1862:  the unfinished shaft lay on the ground nearby; the stumpy, built portion of the monument lacked the final 15-20 feet of its projected height:

Fast forward to December 1862:  a member of Company K, 122^nd Pennsylvania Infantry, helping to cover the Federal retreat from Fredericksburg on the night of December 15, joins his company in moving forward to restore a picket line from whence “a furious volley from the enemies videttes” had driven soldiers of the 124^th New York.  The Pennsylvanian notes that he and his comrades discovered their new posts to be “close by the tomb of the mother of our revered Washington…. Heavy firing was begun about midnight and kept up at intervals, so that we were compelled to…closely hug to mother earth.”   

And the vignettes of individual buildings at the bottom of the 1856 panorama implied well-graded streets and sidewalks for the town as a whole:

…a contention hotly disputed by the editor of the Fredericksburg Weekly Advertiser.  In 1857, one year after the panorama was printed, he railed against “the garbage and filth of our streets, the smell of which is enough to create the cholera; and instead of cleaning them out there is a continual pouring on of sand, rocks, &c, making the streets, in some places, two feet above the level of the sidewalks, and causing them to be flooded every rain….” 

Yet the chromolithograph’s lapses in delineation or message seem forgivable given the mass of detail corroborated by other evidence.  (Anyone curious about ownership/occupation or other details of specific structures shown in the panorama should examine it in tandem with John Hennessy’s base-map for Virtual Fredericksburg, while bearing in mind that his is a portrayal of the Civil War landscape, with some change in building-locations, configurations, and identities from those of 1856.)

The Sachse chromolithograph’s overall accuracy and precision, especially in depicting structures that survive in 2012, in turn lends credibility to its depiction of now-lost features for which there is only scarce evidence currently, or none at all.  For instance:  although the panorama does not show the line of the Washington and New Orleans Telegraph Company as it winds southward out of town via Hanover Street and the Sunken Road (presumably because of the difficulty of depicting slender poles and wires in the far background), the telegraph route does appear in the picture’s foreground.  The region’s first “information superhighway,” it seems, extended northward out of Fredericksburg across the Chatham Bridge and then along River Road through Chatham’s riverside meadows and Falmouth, not out of Fredericksburg via Princess Anne Street extended and the Falmouth Bridge, as I would have guessed:

Fast forward to November or December 1862:  the telegraph route bearing out of Fredericksburg via the Chatham Bridge and the Chatham meadows is confirmed by Alfred Waud, in a sketch made from the edge of Falmouth and showing the remnants of a telegraph line veering up from River Road towards the corridor of the Telegraph Road and, ultimately, Washington:

Beyond merely using specific hues to more accurately portray individual structures and features, such as the Market House/Town Hall, the Sachse panorama offers us a simple but invaluable reminder:  people experienced the nineteenth century in color.  Although many buildings in View of Fredericksburg, VA are fully or partially hidden due to the limitations of a single-angle perspective, its ambitious, mass documenting of Fredericksburg’s colors was a feat not equaled there until the advent of color photography.

Note, for example, a scene that greeted arriving steamboat passengers–the reds and tans of the utilitarian gasworks buildings, clustered around the brick smokestack and contrasting with the white (or cream colored) mass and neoclassical lines of the nearby mansion, ”Hazel Hill”:

Fast forward to December 1862: inside as well as out, and even a day into the battle of Fredericksburg, the Hazel Hill mansion somehow remains resplendent.  On the night of December 11 a Federal bibliophile tresspassing there finds “upon the mantel silver sconces filled with waxen candles that soon filled the room with light that came back reflected from mirrors hanging on the walls…. We passed through a wide opening half closed by curtains of tapestry a little faded but rich in design and warm in color, in to the library…. priceless tomes arranged in stately lines in the best dress of the bookbinder’s art presented a mosaic of color more attracted than ever Roman lapidary has wrought….” 

Noel G. Harrison

Special thanks to Cate Harrison and Ed Sandtner for photographic assistance.  Sources, in order of quotation above: S. Millett Thompson, Thirteenth Regiment of New Hampshire Volunteer Infantry; James W. Hunnicutt, The Conspiracy Unveiled: The South Sacrificed; Or, The Horrors of Secession; George F. Sprenger, Concise History of the Camp and Field Life of the 122d Regiment; Weekly Advertiser, July 18, 1857; George A. Bruce, “The Battle of Fredericksburg…” MOLLUS Mass. 9.   

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.

"W.A. JELLISON 6th MAINE REGT CO H"

William Albert Jellison was born August 25, 1844 in Bangor, Maine. In 1860, he lived with his family in Milford, Maine. On April 30, 1861, at the age of sixteen he enlisted at Old Town for three years. William mustered in the following month as a private in Company K, 2^nd Maine Infantry. Although he participated in the First Battle of Bull Run, his service with this regiment was brief, as he was discharged in October. His discharge was “on account of an almost total deafness apparently due to general exhaustion at and after the Battle of Bull Run, July 21, 1861.” Although authorities deemed the deafness “incurable,” a year later he once again enlisted for three years of service. William mustered into Company H, 6^th Maine Infantry in Augusta, Maine. The year 1863 proved an eventful one for William.

William survived the December 1862 Battle of Fredericksburg, but did not fare so well the following spring. Having participated in the storming of Marye’s Heights during the second battle at Fredericksburg on May 3, 1863, William went missing the following day. Captured by the Confederates, he spent ten days in captivity in Richmond before being paroled. A stay at Camp Parole in Maryland interrupted a return to his regiment, which finally occurred in October. A mere two weeks after rejoining his comrades, William fell wounded with a shell fragment that sliced through his left thigh during the November 7, 1863 Battle of Rappahannock Station.

Photos of William A. Jellison and the wound he received at Rappahannock Station. Jellison submitted these photos with his pension claim in 1897.

Months of recovery followed in hospitals throughout the north. One of his stops included Armory Square Hospital in Washington, D.C. It was at Armory Square that young William made the acquaintance of Walt Whitman, the poet. Whitman frequented the hospitals around Washington and assisted the medical staffs, often keeping notes on those soldiers he interacted with. In one of Whitman’s notebooks appears the entry “William A. Jellison. Company ‘H’ 6th Me Reg home address West Enfield Maine”. Months later, William was still bouncing around hospitals when he wrote a letter to Whitman. That letter can be read here.

An 1864 photo of one of the wards at Armory Square Hospital. The hospital was located where the Smithsonian Institute's National Air and Space Museum now stands.

The 6^th Maine mustered out in August 1864. Those men, such as William, who still had terms of service to fulfill, transferred to the 1^st Maine Veteran Infantry. Shortly thereafter, William received a final, transfer to the 23^rd Company, 2^nd Battalion of the Veteran Reserve Corps.

Immediately after the war, William moved to Michigan, initially settling in East Saginaw. He moved to Marquette, Mich. in 1873, married Philomene Bussineau four years later and in 1879 opened the National Hotel, which he operated for a number of years. In later years, William served as the deputy collector at the Marquette customs house. He died November 15, 1915 and is buried at Holy Cross Cemetery in Marquette, Mich.

In this series of posts looking at Aquia Church’s graffiti, the names of nine soldiers, north and south, have been identified. A look at the photos posted with these stories shows there is much more graffiti on the church’s quoins. The soft sandstone has worn over time, some the graffiti is illegible, and many more carvings were made by visitors and vandals long after the soldiers departed from Stafford County. Surely, however, there remain more names of men who wanted us to know they were there. I’d be curious if any of our readers have visited Aquia Church and deciphered any additional names.

Eric J. Mink

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.

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.

But how many bore through those dark months after the battle?  Some strong evidence comes in the form of election data from Fredericksburg during the four years of war, as revealed in the minutes of the town council (recently transcribed for the NPS by Jake Struhelka).

A family in their shattered Fredericksburg home.

In 1860, the population of Fredericksburg was 5,026–including 3,031 white residents, 1,295 slaves and 420 free blacks.  Of course, only a fraction of those residents (white men only) were eligible to vote, and it appears from the results of a referendum in 1861 and the council elections in 1860 that about 460 voters went to the polls in those momentous years. For elections to the 12-member town council, each voter selected a slate of candidates (likely as many as 12). In 1860, the town’s 460 voters cast a total of 4,130 votes for council.

Council minutes record votes in the wartime years, showing a steady drop in the number cast (elections were held in March of each year).  I think it’s fairly safe to use these numbers to estimate the population that remained in March of each year of the war.  (Remember, the Union army didn’t arrive in Fredericksburg for the first time until April 1862–after that spring’s elections.)

1860: 4,130       1861: 4,079      1862: 3,537      1863: 1,157     1864: 1,669     1865: 1,857

In March of 1863–just four months after the battle and truly the darkest period for Fredericksburg’s white citizenry–28% of those who voted in 1860 remained in town to vote in the 1863 council election.  If we assume that voter-qualified males constitute a valid statistical sample of those who stayed and those who left town, then we can estimate that in March 1863, about 28%, or 928 white residents remained in town.  The number likely, is a bit high, given that evidence suggests that as the war progressed men were more inclined to remain in town than women. So perhaps a safer estimate is 850-900.

This 1863 image shows evidence of a neglected, battered town.

What of slaves and free blacks?  We have no worthwhile mechanism to calculate their numbers.  We have ample evidence to suggest that most slaves (though certainly not all) had at least left their masters by 1863, if not the region entirely (how many returned after the war is a question begging an answer, but no one has tackled that one yet). It’s hard to imagine that more than 100 or so slaves remained in town, if even that.

As for free blacks, the numbers are likewise elusive. We know that in March 1863, the Confederate army impressed all free black men remaining in town to help clean up the streets, suggesting that enough remained to attract the Confederates’ attention.  Beyond that, we have only scattered anecdotal evidence that confirms that some free blacks departed and some remained.  Certainly, free blacks and whites shared the imperative to leave for purposes of safety, though free blacks surely had fewer options when seeking a place of refuge in the county. But free blacks and slaves did not share the imperative to leave in search of freedom.  Given those two factors, it seems likely that a significant percentage of free blacks remained in town.  A conservative (i.e. high) estimate might put the number of slaves and free blacks remaining in town in March 1863 at about 500.

It’s reasonable to conclude, then, that the dislocation of civilians after the Union arrival, and especially during and after the Battle of Fredericksburg, was truly significant, leaving a skeleton crew of no more than 1,400 of the original 5,000 residents to oversee the town. What is perhaps more interesting and important is this:  the numbers confirm that the flight from Fredericksburg was no short junket, as is often presumed.  As the slow recovery of the population in 1864 and 1865 suggests, once families left, they often left for extended periods, returning only slowly.  By March of 1865, more than half the white population was still gone.

There is much work to be done on this topic and the repopulation of the town in 1866 and beyond. Indeed, the Reconstruction period is the one we know least about. We can only hope that someone will take on the formidable challenge of documenting and understanding the rebirth of a town ravaged beyond most others.

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

In addition to church services conducted by Reverend Wheeler, funeral services for soldiers who died in camp also took place within the church’s walls. After the war, the remains of six indentified, and six unknown, Union soldiers were removed from the grounds of the Aquia Church and reburied in the Fredericksburg National Cemetery.

The interior of Aquia Church appears to have been regarded with some respect. The outer walls, however, continued to be fair game for a growing list of visitors. At least three of Colonel Devin’s trooper left their names carved in the soft sandstone, right next to the names of their enemies who occupied Stafford County the previous winter.

"CW Van Epps 9th N.Y.Cav"

Charles Wilson Van Epps was born July 7, 1838 in Middlebury, Wyoming County, New York. He married Adaline Chase on January 10, 1860. Charles enlisted in the Union Army on September 20, 1861 in Warsaw, New York and mustered in as a private in Company A, 9^th New York Cavalry. Charles had an uneventful military career until being wounded on June 9, 1863 at Beverly’s Ford during the Battle of Brandy Station, Virginia. From that point until he mustered out in October 1864, Charles spent time in various hospitals, recuperating from his wound or battling illness. After leaving the service, he returned to his wife in New York and settled into the life of a farmer. The 1890 Veterans Census lists Charles as suffering from kidney disease. Adaline died on October 13, 1899 and Charles went to live with his daughter’s family in New Britain, Connecticut. He died there on October 7, 1912 and is buried in the Middlebury Cemetery in Wyoming County, New York.

"B Dull Co. G 17th Pa Cav"

Benjamin Dull had a very brief period of service in the Union cavalry, lasting only nine months. A 23- year old carpenter from Bedford County, Pennsylvania, Benjamin left a wife and two small children behind when he enlisted at Waynesboro, Pennsylvania on September 13, 1862. He mustered in as a private two weeks later, assigned to Company G, 17^th Pennsylvania Cavalry. Army life did not suit Private Dull. On June 29, 1863, the 17th Pennsylvania Cavalry crossed from Maryland into Franklin County, Pennsylvania in pursuit of Robert E. Lee’s army during the Gettysburg Campaing. That night, the regiment bivouaced at the foot of South Mountain, just a few miles from Waynesboro, where most of Company G, including Dull, had enlisted. Captain Luther B. Kurtz requested permission to let Company G spend the night in Waynesboro. An unusual request, no doubt, n the midst of anactive campaign. As the regimental historian remembered decades later:

“The request was granted and Company G went home for the night, leaving assurances of honor that all would be back at the hour the column would march, and, true to their word and country, they came, and when they reported the next morning, without a man missing or a straggler, they received a warm-greeting from their generoud, though less fortunate, companions.” – Henry P. Moyer, History of the Seventeenth Regiment Pennsylvania Volunteer Cavalry (Lebanon, Penn.: Sowers Printing Company, 1911) pp. 58-59

In the postwar recounting of this incident, Dull appears to have been forgotten. He apparently did not return, as his was listed as having deserted on June 29, 1863.  He never returned to the regiment. After the war, Benjamin and his growing family moved to Ashland, Ohio where he made a living as a millwright. In 1889, he tried, unsuccessfully, to have the charge of desertion removed from his military record and to receive an honorable discharge. No doubt, this request was made in an effort to obtain a military pension. Benjamin Dull died on August 28, 1925 and is buried in Ashland Cemetery in Ashland, Ohio.

"P * PASS * 17 PACV"

Peter Pass served in the same regiment and company as Benjamin Dull. Peter was a 28-year old laborer living with his mother near Fairfield, Pennsylvania when the war began. He enlisted on September 13, 1862 in Franklin County. He mustered in as a private in Company G, 17^th Pennsylvania Cavalry. Peter’s military record indicates a rather healthy service, having only been admitted to a hospital once and no wounds received in battle. Since his service record does not indicate otherwise, Peter more than likely participated in the July 1863 Battle of Gettysburg, just a few miles from his home. Peter received a promotion to the rank of corporal in March 1865 and mustered out of service two months later. He returned home and lived with his mother until her death in 1879. Peter lived the remainder of his life in the small village of Orrtanna in Adams County, Pennsylvania, never marrying and making a living as a charcoal burner, as well as a day laborer. In 1893, he received a military pension for rheumatism, which was increased three years later due to “disease of digestive organs.” Peter Pass died January 12, 1901 and is buried just a few feet from his mother in Chamberlain Hill Cemetery, outside Orrtanna, Pennsylvania.

Grave of Peter Pass - Orrtanna, Penn.

One final forthcoming post will wrap up the documentation of soldier graffiti at Aquia Church. We’ll identify two Union infantrymen who contributed their names to the walls of this historic church.

Eric J. Mink

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:

“The Ladies of Fredericksburg have organized a regular system for attending to the sick soldiers of our Hospital. Six ladies are in attendance constantly,whose office it is to superintend in various departments, and it is earnestly recommended to all who are desirous of aiding in this good work to act in connection with the committee of six ladies who will always be found in attendance.”

The rotations through the hospital did not last long, apparently, for soon local residents opted for the more expedient solution of simply taking the sick soldiers into their homes (though at least one local doctor protested the solution).  ”I never saw anything like the spirit here!”, exclaimed Mrs. Maury. ” The women give up the greater part of their time to nursing the sick or sewing for the soldiers.  And it is the same case throughout the South.”

Despite the efforts of local women, dozens of Confederate soldiers died in the early months of the war. Town Council eventually set aside an area in the Potter’s Field (where the former Maury School stands today) for their burial.  Over the last several years, there has been a wrangle over the location of a memorial to these Confederate dead, which you can read about here.

The Alexander and Gibbs tobacco factory was the product of perhaps Fredericksburg’s youngest rising business combination.  John B. Alexander was just 25 years old at the outset of the war, and was one of Fredericksburg’s earliest enlistees-eventually becoming an officer in the 55th Virginia. Alexander Gibbs was just 30. They opened their business just before the war. Fredericksburg slave John Washington was among seven slaves hired by Alexander and Gibbs in 1860, and he left a vivid account of his time here–a time he remembered fondly.

John Washington

January 1st 1860 I went to live with Mr Alexander & Gibbs tobbacco manifacturers where I, in a month or two, learned the art of preparing tobacco for the mill. We were all “tasked” twist from 66 1/8 to 100 lbs per day. All the work we could do over the task we got paid for which was our own money not our masters. In this way some of us could make $3.00 or 4 extra in a week.

 The factory weeks began on Saturday and ended on Friday when the Books were posted and all the men that had over work were paid promply on Saturday. But if any one failed to have completed his task the lash would be generally resorted to. In a Tobbacco Factory the “Twisters” generally have one or two boys, sometimes women for stemming the tobacco to be “twisted”. The Factory is kept very clean and warmed in winter from early morning till late at night could be heard  the noise of the machinery and singing of the hands in one incessant hum. In a Tobacco Factory some of the finest singing known to the colored race could frequently be heard — I was only permmitted to live one year in consequence of the threatening positions of the Southern States the firm of Alexander & Gibbs suspended operation. This year in the Factory was to me more like “Freedom” than any I had known since I was a very small boy. We began work at 7 oclock in the morning, stoped from 1 to 2 oclock for dinner, stoped work at 6 p.m. If we chose to make extra work we began at any hour before 7 and worked some times till 9 p.m. The se[ce]ssion of South South Carolina, and the threatened close of business between the North and South caused the suspension of work in this factory early in December 1860.

No vestige of the original building survives.  Sometime late in the 19th Century, Alexander and Gibbs’s place was torn down, replaced by another industrial building that is today fashioned Lafayette Square.  

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.

George enlisted in Company A, 5^th Texas Infantry on October 24, 1861 in Richmond. His service records note that he served on special duty as a “guerilla” from November 22 through December 30, 1861, while the regiment camped at Dumfries. On June 27, 1862, George received a slight wound in the Battle of Gaines’ Mill, northeast of Richmond. Promotions came quickly for Robinson, moving up to the rank corporal in August, sergeant during the winter of 1862-1863, and acting sergeant major during September and October 1863.  Except for the slight wound at Gaines’ Mill, Robinson managed to survive untouched the fierce fighting at Second Manassas, Antietam, Gettysburg, Chickamauga, and Knoxville.

Robert Campbell, also a member of Company A, left this account of Robinson’s involvement on the picket line at the Second Battle of Manassas:

“Jule Robinson – one of our company – a brave young Delawarian, and Dempsy Walker, crawled upon their all fours to within 200 yards of the Yankee pickets – and laying down behind little corn hills – began to interfere with ‘our friends’ across the way, to a considerable extent. They could not hold their ‘corn hills’ long, for a few Yanks, more daring than the rest, had climbed trees, and in return, interfered with Messers Robinson and Walker to such an extent, that they were forced to return to the company.” – George Skoch and Mark W. Perkins, eds. Lone Star Confederate: A Gallant and Good Soldier of the Fifth Texas (College Station, Tex.: Texas A&M University Press, 2003) p. 73

Robinson’s luck ran out, however, on May 6, 1864 in the Wilderness of Spotsylvania County, Va. On that day, in the fields of the Widow Tapp, Robinson took a bullet through the mouth, apparently shattering his jaw and nearly severing his tongue. After months in the hospitals of Richmond, Robinson received a discharge from Howard’s Grove General Hospital on December 2, thus ending his military career.

Robinson is supposed to have settled in Texas after the war, before returning home to Delaware in the early 1880s. His death certificate lists his date of death as May 7, 1897 in Georgetown, Sussex County, Delaware. He is buried at St. George’s Chapel, where in 2006 the Sons of Confederate Veterans placed a marker over his grave.

Due to follow, a couple posts will document the Union soldiers who left their names on the walls of Aquia Church.

Eric J. 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.

“C McC----------- 5 Tex Vol 1862”

The first piece of Texas soldier graffiti (above) is located on a quoin to the left of the church’s primary entrance. It is the work of Charles McCally of Company F, 5^th Texas Infantry. Charles enlisted in the company on September 26, 1861, while the regiment was stationed in Richmond, Va. From November 23 through December 30, 1861, McCally was detailed “as a scout.” One of his comrades remembered him as:

“a young man who had only resided in Beaumont a short time before enlisting. ‘Mc’ was of great vital force, ever active and courageous; was educated as a civil engineer and at a glance could take the lay of the surroundings and was a fast runner.” – William A. Fletcher, Rebel Private Front and Rear (Austin: University of Texas Press, 1954) p. 20

McCally received a promotion to the rank of corporal on January 1, 1862 and to sergeant on November 1 of the same year. Through most of 1863 and early 1864, McCally served as clerk for the regimental adjutant before being promoted to 2^nd Lieutenant. With the promotion came a transfer to the Corps of Engineers and assigned to duty at the headquarters of General Edmund K. Smith.

An amusing story written by McCally’s tent mate is worth repeating. Following the Gettysburg Campaign, the 5^th Texas found itself camped at Bunker Hill, Va. for several days with nothing to do but spend its time “sitting, or lying down, patching up.” Some members of Company F discovered a stash of several barrels of whiskey. The men filled their canteens with liquor and embarked on a two-day bender.

“I called ‘Mc’ to where I was lying and told him I was nearly dead for water, as I had drank none since he had filled my canteen. I started to pour the remaining whiskey out but he grabbed the canteen and said he would give it to some fellow, or empty it at the spring, and he started, the boys who were lying around threw him their canteens, so he left with six or eight. He was slow in returning and I wanted water awfully bad, although I had not taken a drink of whiskey, as I yet remembered my vow on the first day in Pennsylvania. It was reported that ‘Mc’ was found nearly drowned in the spring and had been dragged out and the canteens were scattered around, so I up and started, regardless of sore feet, and found ‘Mc’ on his back, sound asleep, with his purse on his breast and canteens nearby. I filled them, aroused ‘Mc’ and put the canteens on his shoulder and he staggered back to camp. I asked what was his intention when he put the purse on his breast and he said: ‘To catch a damned thief.’” – William A. Fletcher, Rebel Private Front and Rear (Austin: University of Texas Press, 1954) p. 66-67

“B.W. Bristow Co. C 5th Texas”

Benjamin Wickliffe Bristow was born September 7, 1838 in Morgan County, Illinois. Benjamin graduated from Rush Medical College in Chicago in 1859. On June 21, 1861, Bristow enlisted, for the war, as a private in Company E, 20^th Mississippi Infantry at Corinth, Miss. He transferred to Company C, 5^th Texas Infantry on January 1, 1862. He survived the early campaigns until wounded in the hip on August 30, 1862 at the Second Battle of Manassas. Sent to Chimborazo Hospital No. 5 in Richmond, Va., he commenced a furlough in November to recover from his wounds. On June 10, 1863, Bristow received his discharge from army service.

Apparently not content to sit out the war, Bristow put his education to work. In March 1864, Bristow is listed as a surgeon on duty at the Confederate General Hospital in Columbia, Texas. On November 30, 1864 he received an appointment as an assistant surgeon in the Provisional Army of the Confederate States. His duty station was the General Hospital in Houston, Texas where it appears that he served out the remainder of the war.

After the war, Benjamin lived in Texas. The 1870 Census lists him as living in DeWitt County with a wife and two children. His occupation is given as doctor. The 1880 Census lists him as a physician living in Flatonia, Texas with his son. On July 13, 1896, Dr. Bristow was shot and killed by Trotter Hopkins, the brother of Bristow’s daughter-in-law. He is buried in Oak Hill Cemetery in Flatonia.

“G.W. Starnes 5th Texas 1862.” The Union soldier's graffiti will be discussed in a later post.

George W. Starnes enlisted in Company F, 5^th Texas Infantry on August 10, 1861 in Harrisburg, Texas. Starnes was appointed sergeant on November 22, 1861. Like Bristow, Starnes fell to a wound at Manassas on August 30, 1862. Due to this wound, he was left in Warrenton, Va. when the Confederate army moved north and then subsequently fell back into the Shenandoah Valley. While in Warrenton, Union authorities captured Starnes and presumably paroled him on September 29, 1862. Starnes succumbed to his wound on December 21, 1862.

On April 8, 1862, The Texans abandoned their camps near Dumfries and headed south to confront Union General George B. McClellan’s massive military buildup southeast of Richmond. Among the things they left behind were their names carved on Aquia Church, to remind us of their time spent there in the first winter of the war.

A second post will follow, focusing on some of the Union graffiti that remains on the exterior of the church.

Eric J. Mink

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.

The interior of St. Thomas's church, from a postcard

By his side sat Gen. Lee, the very opposite of the President in form, features and general appearance. He is burly & “beefy” and fat. His form is large and full and round. His face is massive in its proportions, his nose slightly aquiline, his hair and beard are I the transition state from grey to snowy, his crown almost utterly bald, the back of his neck full and fat, indicating more of the animal in his nature than the lean, intellectual President.  He holds a high head and is the very impersonation of dignity and manly power.

Lynchburg Museum System

It makes one feel better to look at him. I was near enough to see that a bunch of coarse, brisly, black hair grows seemingly out of the orifice of each ear. He wears a very plain uniform and the three stars on his collar are of the plainest order.

In the sacred desk was Gen. Pendleton, who reminds me of Gen. Lee when the latter is not near. Near the centre of the house sat Gen. Lee & Pres. Davis, the two most prominent men in the Confederacy. I also noticed in the crowded house the face of Gen. A.P. Hill, Gen. Anderson, Gen. Wilcox, some other Generals to me unknown, and a host of lesser military lights…with a sprinkling of ladies to add grace and beauty to the medley. The sermon was plain and practical, pervaded by a tone of feeling.

 Justice concluded his missive with a lament: 

…The evil days are now upon us. Days of darkness and toil and sorry fill the years now. The hearts of all are hardened, and pity scarcely lingers in the human breast. Homes are desolate, the strength and pride of our land fall in battle by the thousands. O when will it end. When can I live in peace and quiet in the sweetest, best, little home on earth.

"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.