Sunday, November 28, 2010

The ghosts of Fredericksburg

We went to Fredericksburg over the weekend. I'm not sure why. Maybe because it was there.

I had heard it was picturesque but by the time we had waited in long lines of traffic on the I-95, to descend on a road flanked by crumbling strip malls, much of our wunderlust had faced away.

Still we made for the historic old town and parked near the bridge over the Rappahannock River. I had expected a mellow span with wide pavements for visits but instead there was just a small, dirty sidewalk that denoted a functional, industrial structure looking over a muddy ravine of skeletal trees.

The bridge faced the hollow backs of buildings, slightly neglected and off-the-beaten track. Instead we hurried with a cold wind on our backs to the main shopping streets, festooned with Christmas lights.

Fredericksburg reminds me off many small towns in England. It has a bustling town center that is a destination in itself. In contrast many American downtowns are shuttered up and empty at evenings and during the weekend, the domain of trash blown by the wind and the occasional down-and-out.

Frederickburg has a downtown bars and stores and cafes. There are cutesy and over expensive carriage and trolley bus rides. Still behind the facade there seemed to be something sadder lurking in Fredericksburg. Many of the shop keepers frowned and looked at me as if I was wearing a T-shirt with the words "Registered sex offender" on it when I walked into their cramped premises pushing a stroller.

The visitor center was a place of glossy brochures and severe old women with glassy stares. Had the recession or the cold wind stripped Frederickburg of its Virginian civility?

Or do the ghosts still walk in a town that was steeped in blood just over 150 years ago?

Just before dawn on Dec. 11, 1862 the same empty mud-bound Rappahannock River that I gazed down on was alive with men who were building six pontoon bridges for the giant Union army. The army succesfully crossed the river and the first urban combat of the Civil War began. More than 5,000 shells slammed into Frederickburg, the precursor to an era when artillery and bombs would increasingly come to be used against civilians.

If there was euphoria on behalf of the Federate army, it was short lived. During the long day of Dec. 13 114,000 men in Maj. Gen Ambrose Burnside's Unionist army were employed in action, many of them against almost impregnable Confederate positions on high land to the south of the town. With little apparent plan their commanders sent them slowly uphill into the mouths of the guns.

Thousands were slaughtered in one of the most one sided battles of the Civil War. When hostilities died down and the stars decorated the frosted skies, the cold night of Dec. 13 was filled with the screams of the wounded and dying on the blood soaked flanks of Marye's Heights. Richard Rowland Kirkland, a Confederate army sergeant,  gathered canteens and in broad daylight, without the benefit of a cease fire or a flag of truce, provided water to numerous Union wounded lying on the field of battle.

The story of kindness amid so much brutality earned Kirkland the name "the angel of Marye's Heights" and a statue in his honor.

The Union army suffered 12,653 casualties while the Confederate army lost 5,377.

Notwithstanding the scowls of a few store assistants it seems Frederickburg has become a much friendlier place in the space of 152 years.

5 comments:

  1. That's a powerful story. Sounds like Fredericksburg was worth visiting after all. xoRobyn

    ReplyDelete
  2. Very well written piece, David. You really captured it both in present-day and historically. I feel like I was there during your visit and also during the battle just from reading this.

    ReplyDelete
  3. I can't imagine being told that I need to run up a hill with a bunch of people shooting at me. Maybe it's a different time or different pressures but I really can't imagine logical people thinking that's a good idea.

    ReplyDelete
  4. I read a fictional account of this battle once that has stayed with me. I cannot imagine having the courage to walk directly forward into the gaping mouths of guns and cannon. Kind of sounds like hell.

    Maybe shop-keepers were eying you askance because you brought little ones (potentially destructive) in among their antiques?

    ReplyDelete
  5. Thanx Robyn - it wasn't bad. There are some Civil War attractions still there. Thanks Daisy; you are too kind. I'm with you Chris. there are better ways to spend a cold winter day. Well, to be fair Meredith, I do tend to be rather clumsy in antique shops with a stroller which can be quite a deadly weapon.

    ReplyDelete