Wednesday, December 12, 2012

Virginia, So Far... Or... Chasing Ghosts...





I started in Fredericksburg... Site of a Civil War Battle, some 150 years ago... That anniversary being the genesis for this trip.  One of my Great-great grandfathers was there...

The battle took place over several days, in December of 1862... Climaxing on December 13th when Union attacks on the "sunken road" and Prospect Hill were repulsed... But today is Sunday, December 9th, not the anniversary, but the "anniversary observed"

I arrived in town early, at dawn, drove about a bit, then drove to the far eastern end of the battlefield, Prospect Hill, where Pvt. William J B Sherman found himself, a member of the 55th Virginia, under command of Stonewall Jackson...

Much like the day of the battle, 150 years ago, it was cold and foggy... I had Prospect Hill to myself... I walked, to the rear, where troops were likely camped, and possibly sheltered during the Union shelling... Someone has left a makeshift memorial to their confederate ancestor who fought here...  Quite moving... Like my great-great grandfather he survived the battle... He survived the war as well, while my great-great grandfather was dead of fever within a few months.

I hiked the confederate trench line, then down the hill to the west where Meade and his troops broke through the confederate line...  Where there now stands a stone pyramid, a monument to the battle, erected by the Richmond, Potomac & Fredericksburg Railroad who's tracks bisected the battlefield then, and continue to today.

I hiked back up Prospect Hill, by now crowded with people here for the celebration or commemoration, or festivities, or whatever...

I return to town, to the NPS visitor center, now open... I "do" the sunken road walk... There are rangers and park volunteers everywhere... Buildings, not normally open are open... Guests are dressed in Civil War clothing, dodger and civilian, both northern, and southern...  I encounter people with pins, and patches sewn into jackets and vests... Each commemorating their visit to a previous 150th anniversary of another Civil War battle.

I move down into town, find a place to park, and walk around, finding a coffee house...  Most stores are closed (at least until noon)... It is Sunday, and while it might be the 150th anniversary celebration of the battle, it is also Sunday.

The local event committee has arraigned free shuttle busses... I find a shuttle stop, and ride across the river to Chatham House, where the re-enactors are... (the NPS will allow re-enactors to camp at Washington's boyhood home, and allow them to set up public displays at Park headquarters... But won't let them reenact the battle on the battlefield...

The shuttle buses were burrowed or rented from a local Christian school.  Our driver was more than a bit snarly...  We drove past the entrance of Chatham House, and into the parking lot of a strip mall.  The shuttle stop for Chatham House was in front of a closed retail store... When ask the driver referred us to the volunteer outside who told us it was his first day, and didn't know...  Several of us took off in search of Chatham House... It turned out to be behind the closed stores of the somewhat bleak retail strip mall...  Down an alley, through some trees and across a field... The house had a long history;  built before the war, it was the headquarters of a large plantation.  Durring the War it was a headquarters, a hospital, and a battery..  Of course by then of the war the place was a shambles, the slaves freed, the families fortune gone...

Eventually the land was sold off and it became the big house on the hill, now with formal gardens instead of tobacco.   It is hard to correlate what today is grand home with its plantation and wartime history...

Having seen Chatham I chose to walk back, rather than brave the shuttle...  It was a quick walk into town... By now the stores, having observed Sunday morning, were open.   I bought a cup of Brunswick Stew to go from a cafe... (Traditionally made with squirrel meat... I didn't ask)

At 1:00, there was a commemoration, and a walk, organized by NPS...  A bit of background... During the battle, the Union Army threw itself at well the well dug in army... The Union troops were mostly Irish units, raised in New York.  It was a blood bath... A waste of brave (mostly Irish) troops...

Now, today, the commemoration will include a current New York National Guard unit, the descendent of the Irish Battalions who fought here... In modern combat uniforms... They have a pair of Irish Wolfhounds with them, but I suspect they were found locally... There is a small contingent of the Irish Defense Force, flown in across the pond... Then the re-enactors... Re-enacting one of the Irish units, followed by confederate re-enactors, followed by the public... They are to walk the route taken by the Union troops as they attacked the confederate positions.

But first... Speeches, mercifully short, followed by two minutes of shelling... Really fireworks... 100 shells a minute... For two minutes... In 1862, the shelling went on for hours...  It was a powerful message.   Visceral… It raised thought of the town folks, hiding in basements… the shelling overwhelming… Then, the procession started... And the church bells began to toll... Each member of the public was offered a carnation to carry...

Eventually, the public was divided into three columns, each following one of the attack routes.   Once the stone wall, marking the sunken road and the confederate line was reached, the carnations were to be laided down.
Somehow, the Irish remembrance (not inappropriate or unwelcome) had taken over the remembrance of the total battle, and the Irish, as Union troops, had eclipsed the memory of the Confederate Troops also here.  Great-great Grandfather was there as a confederate solder… a somewhat unwilling one… but he was there, and this celebration (woops, commemoration) forgot that…

By then, I had abandoned the official commemoration... I had my own plans... And for now, my plans were to join my niece and her family in Lorton, where my nephew, and wife, and Max would join us...
I would have a second chance to remember and commemorate, without the crowds with patched recalling all the battle fields they had visited, and the people who like public celebrations what ever for…

Sunday, December 9, 2012

Off, to DC


6:28 pm... SFO...  Virgin America flight 942... ( best damn airline in the world)

The area in front of the terminal is deserted... A single taxi competing for empty curb space...  There was no line at security...

I am here to catch a flight to LA, once there, to catch a connection to Dulles... Arriving about dawn... Tomorrow, I will visit the battlefield at Fredricksburg Virginia... A civil war battle field... There will be a re enactment in progeress... A celebration or commemoration of the battle which was fought there 150 years ago.

My great, great, grandfather was there, a member of the 55th Virginia... In A. P. Hills corps... But at this battle under command of Stonewall Jackson, A. P. Hill having just received news of his son's death.

It seemed like a good time to visit...

I also have family nearby, nieces, nephews, their spouses (in our family also nieces and nephews, and great nieces, and great nephews...

There also libraries nearby... I have books that I would like to pull at the Library of Congress, and records To  pull at National Archives.

I am busy at work... But things are tense, and the escape may help, and will at least offer a short escape...

Boarding was easy... Seat 23a... A window... Get settled, book out, headphones... I pad... Eventually the plane pushes back... Taxis... And then comes to life for the takeoff roll...

We climb, turn north... Fireworks are visible near fishman's warf... We turn again, this time westward, then southward... It is dark out... San Mateo is below... Then the bay peters out near Santa Clara, now as we fly south, the houses and their lights are getting scarcer as we escape the Bay Area....

The one hour flight south is too short for sleep... That will wait for the east bound leg...

Few lights a visible below... Those that are, are far to the east... Likely in the great valley... The San Joaquin... It is bumpy... But the "fasten seat belt" light is off...

I seem to be wallowing in Lenard Cohen on the entertainment system... Strangely calming...  They announce we are about 20 minutes out... We should prepare to land...  below there are only one or two lonely lights...   Soon, seat belt light on, descending... Over LA... On the ground... Waiting for my turn to get off... Find the next gate... And take a deep breath...  I have an hour before boarding... So I find a place for a beer and fish and chips. Gladstones... But the airport is not the same as Malibu...

I sit for a few minutes at the gate... for the next leg of the flight... the flight is far from full, but they make the peremptory announcement about carry on's anyway, and offer to gate check...  We board quickly... I fall asleep quickly... to awake as we are on approach at Dulles... Its dark... its raining... I get my rental, and go off into the night... which will soon be dawn, but there is no sign of light... off on my adventure.