| The Sharp Shooters Return to Falmouth, Virginia |
| by |
| Bill Skillman |
| Some of you may recall my articles "What did They Wear?" Part 4 |
| 'A Picture is Worth a 1000 Words' and 'Recollections of Guard Duty' by Wyman White. Both of these articles focused on the 2nd USSS during it's stay at the village of Falmouth, Virginia (which is across the Rappahannock River from Fredricksburg) during April to June 1862. 140 years later the boys of the Randolph Mess decided to return to Falmouth to see if they could rediscover some of the homes and public buildings described in Wyman White's accounts, but especially the home featured in the photograph taken of the guard detail. |
| We arrived at Falmouth crossroads from the west on Warrentown road (State 17).� Fortunately there was a traffic light so we could stop and get a quick lay of the land and decide which direction to turn.� I decided to "hang a right" and noticed some older buildings following the terrain as it descended towards the river.� Unlike Falmouth of 140 years ago, there is now a modern bridge spanning the Rappahannock into the suburbs of Fredricksburg.� Rather than crossing (State 1) the river I made a quick left between an old white house and BMW dealership.� We slowed down and looked at the houses lining the street.� On the south side was the old white house surrounded by a white picket fence and the backyard filled with trees and a well maintained flower garden.� There was a road (Gordon Street) that sharply descended to the river.� I decided to continue on Carter street.� There was an ancient two-story timber frame home that was an attorney's office.� It looked as though it was from the 18th Century but it did not occur to us to go in and ask the barrister of the home's lineage. |
| The road made a sharp turn to the left as there was a large Civil War-era red-brick Methodist Church and cemetery blocking any forward progress.� There were more homes but none looked like the one in the photograph.� I hollered out to Brian who had Wyman White's book to read us the passage about the guard duty.� With the mention of the "tobacco warehouse by the river""� we decided to turn back and take one of the side streets situated along the west side of the bridge. |
| This was easier said than done, as the interchange of State 17 and 1 was congested and making a left turn a major challenge.� I decided to head north on State 1 for a bit to see if there were any homes that looked familiar.� Unfortunately, the old wood frame building all showed various stages of disrepair, and some were abandoned.� At the edge of town a new "traffic enhancing" curve had been cut into the surrounding hills so I figured it was time to turn around.� My comrades in the back seat were either as interested as I was or dug their fingernails into the interior and clenched their teeth as I turned the steering wheel one way and the other to get us headed south again. |
| I turned off on a small side street that rapidly descended to the river, which was logically called "River Road".� There was an old white building with a covered porch-it looked like an old hotel.� Across the street, along the base of the imposing hill and in the shadow of the bridge, was a well maintained, two story, brick building.� There was a chain suspended between the old hitching posts, and there was even a brick sidewalk in front.� It caught my eye and I mentioned it to the boys in back.� But since we were on the flats, I wanted to explore the land east of us towards Fredricksburg.� Unlike a number of sites identified by the Virginia's Civil War Trail signs, there is nothing to signify Falmouth's history-albeit a fairly unremarkable history compared to the battlefields across the river. |
| As we drove along the tree covered lane I could see the copperas-covered spires one of the CW-era churches in downtown Fredricksburg.� Within 3 minutes we had reached the battlefield park boundary and decided to turn back.� This should give you some insight into the tenacious attitude of my comrades.� Why go to a battlefield that everybody else goes to.� We are on a quest to see if the original buildings of 140 years ago are still standing on a town that for all appearances has about 3 good years left before some developers come in an bulldoze the lot and turn it into one of the suburban havens. |
| When retraced our steps and I slammed on the breaks across from the brick building and asked Brian to re-read the account of Wyman being imprisioned again.� Brian's voice-muffled by the pile of moldering uniforms and accoutrements reported: "...The Guardhouse where he took me was an old tobacco warehouse down by the river.� It was a large two-story brick building and was the headquarters of the provost guard and was also used for their prison".� I looked over to Dan and then to Phil and said; "Guys if this building doesn't fit the description of the Guardhouse then the place doesn't exist anymore. This is the only building we have seen that would fit that description".� The guys cautiously agreed with me, grabbing my camera I handed it to Phil and asked him to take a couple pictures. �There were enough cars zipping up and down the narrow road that I wanted to keep behind the wheel of The Beast in case I needed to move it.� |
| Behind us poised on a peninsula was another fine brick two story home.� It was not a warehouse but a pretty home of the period.� Because of it's construction and proximity to the water I wondered if it had originally belonged to the businessman who owned the warehouses.� Then again, if the home was standing at the time of the War.� This is one of those times where I wished I had spent� more time watching "This Old House" instead of "Thomas the Train" with the kids.� But all said and done, I felt that we had hit paydirt with the warehouse that held Wyman White during his brief imprisonment. |
| I explained my rationale to the boys as we waited for traffic to lighten up.� If the warehouse was indeed the site of the Provost Marshal and the prison, then Wyman's post would have been close by: "...My post was on the main street, post No. 4.� There were four other streets intersecting."� This would probably be the junction of Warrenton Road that we drove in on, and State 1.� Granted the road had been widened and a traffic light installed, but that would have been the most likely spot.� From all appearances, the Civil War village buildings and homes were clustered on the bluffs above the river.� So White's post would have been close to the outskirts of the town.� |
| But what about the house occupied by Captain Caldwell and featured in the photograph?� The Ford House where was it? |
| We drove back up to the top of the bluff and waited for the north-south traffic to clear and scooted across both lanes of traffic and pulled the Beast off onto the lawn of the white house.� My eyes went back to the house hidden in the foliage.�"What do you guys think?" I asked.� Dan was already out of the Beast with photo in hand, followed by Brian and Ian.� I was reluctant to leave the Beast where it was parked, we were essentially on private property and a fair sized chuk of the Beast hung out on the narrow roadway.� No doubt these roads off the main drag were made to horse and buggy specifications.� The local sherriff drove past and waved.� I guess they get Sharp Shooters passing through here all the time. With his sign of tolerance, if not pleasantry, I figured we were safe for the time being. |
| While I was sitting in the Suburban and examining the photograph it occurred to me that to determine the time of day the photo was taken, we just need to refer to Wyman's account of when he was posted for duty.� White reports: "It was my duty on this beat from eight to ten in the forenoon and from two to four o'clock in the afternoon to call on every person passing for a pass from some headquarters."� Since White is not in the photograph the estimated time the photo was taken was after 10 a.m. and before 2 p.m.� Since the guard detail was posted two hours on and four hours off, and the details were unchanged for 6 weeks (according to White), this would have been the 10 a.m.-12 midday or 12 -2 p.m. detail.� But we'd have to discuss that later.� Brian, Dan and Ian had slipped around to the front of the house and were negotiating the narrow sidewalk situated precariously close to the busy traffic heading north on State 1.� It would be just our luck to have one of the boys step back while comparing the photo and home and get taken out by a wide-body truck. |
| Phil and I looked at the house again more closely and I called his attention: "Phil, look at the door, see that rectangular glass skylight?"� We then started seeing other subtle features of the home, and an interesting home it was.� Originally it looked as if it was built as a frame home, then a stone-mortar addition added on.� While there were many features that were consistent between the photo and the home before us, but there were other features that didn't quite jibe.� This was particularly the case when we joined our comrades at the front of the home.� Between the flying dust, exhaust and roaring traffic it was difficult to hear each other as we shouted or pointed out things. |
| Dan, who was our best observer for fine details (considering he is our official stitch counter and maker), carefully and critically scrutinized the photo.� He looked at the photo, back at the house, back to the photo repeatedly.� He found some similarities, but he also pointed out features that were inconsistent. |
| I recalled that the original photograph had been printed in reverse, so we eagerly flipped the photo over and held it up to the light.� Sure enough, Brian pointed out how the photographer had compensated for the ground by adjusting the tripod so the house looked level when in fact the road was tilted towards the river.� |
| I called Dan and the boys around back to point out the features of the home that had been modified or removed from the front.� While not 100% convinced, we all agreed that this house had the majority of the characteristics of the original home than any of the others we had seen and still survived.� Also, the proximity of this house to the crossroads,� the suspected warehouse/Provost quarters, and the general layout of the town would suggest that this home, or one just like it (that perhaps where the BMW dealership now stands), would have made the "best fit" to the historical account of Wyman White. |
| As we left the village we drove east along route 664/212 the ground began to rise and near the top was a pair of churches on the left and a cemetery on the right.� The homes in this vicinity were also more modern than those down by the river.� I mentioned to the boys that it was near this vicinity that Wyman's brigade had camped.� White recalled in his book: "..We continued our march through the village, up the road to the south and east and came to a halt on the high land overlooking both Falmouth and the city of Fredricksburg.� Here we (2d USSS) pitched camp.." |
| Why do we do this?� Well that is a good question but I don't know if I have a good answer.� Perhaps it is the thrill of a good detective story using a historical account and a photograph, and to see if those places still exist.� Or document the changes made by man and nature to the original buildings, terrain and geological features.� In my article about the Indian Rush, I discussed the alterations to the ground between Little Round Top and Devil's Den since the skirmish between the Michigan USSS and the Arkansas sharpshooters.� Considering this "hallowed ground" endured a number of transformations to the present day National Park (with still no guarantee that it will be protected and retain it's distinctive character); it is remarkable to consider other places (like Falmouth) survive at all.�� |
| Like many areas in Virginia, the economic boom and the subsequent expansion of housing and shopping developments threaten battlefields and antebellum towns alike.� It had been over 40 years since I had been to the Valley and at Winchester I discovered I had no original references to orient by.� I recall staying with my family in one of those strip hotels surrounded by farmland one late April around 1962.� It had been very hot, so much so that there were fireflies and my brother and I captured enough in a Mason jar to turn it into a lantern.� I laughed to Dan and the boys when we pulled off the Interstate at Middletown that the old two-lane blacktop Valley Turnpike was the same road my parent drove on so many years before.� |
| At Recon 2 (Cedar Creek) we encountered intrusions of the 21st century onto the 19th century battlefield.� When Dan lead Phil and I on a series of late night "sweeps" around our perimeter, our night vision was compromised as we ascended the high ground by the glare of mercury vapor lamps atop a new industrial plant across the road.� To the west, an ugly red scar looking like a Confederate fort and wisps of white dust rose up from a gravel pit barely a half mile away.� As Dan described the position of Union cavalry on some rolling hills to the north, the scene was interrupted by modern ranch houses. |
| We can't save every square foot of battlefield, but from my own travels I was shocked that what I remember as� vast rolling farmland of the Valley, and the woodlands around Richmond are being rapidly lost into suburban sprawl. |
| I have contributed to the Civil War Preservation Trust (originally the ACPWS) and other organizations whose mission it is to preserve historic ground for the past 6 years. Little did I realize just how important my small checks were until I had a chance to see where those efforts have made a difference, and to see those fields where we have been a day late and a dollar short.� That is why I do this.��� WES. |
| Enjoy the photos |