Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Wilmer McLean's House
I visited Wilmer McLean's old house last week-- it was more or less on my way, and I had always wanted to see it. Not that there would be anything so special about the house, as such; I suppose it was just a place I wanted to be for a little while.
The house isn't an architectural marvel, really. There are a few rooms downstairs and a few upstairs. It seems like the house has been fixed up to a certain degree, but not completely. When I visited, I was about the only person there which gave it an eerie calm. Outside, it was the kind of day you see in fall through spring in Virginia; chilly, overcast, but not exactly cold.
The town itself isn't so much, either. It is set on a hill, and the homes are widely spaced, with rough paths between. If you looked the right way from the porch of Wilmer McLean's house, you could see those rolling green hills that stretch for hundreds of miles next to the Blue Ridge itself.
148 years ago, it was not so quiet there. It might not have been the first time that Lee and Grant had met; both had been part of Scott's army which marched into Mexico City to end the Mexican War. But it is certain that they did meet here, and then it was over.
There is a heaviness there. I left Appomattox County and drove towards Lexington (where Lee found his redemption), ignoring the McCain and Obama signs and the frantic screeching from the radio talk shows. I wanted to keep that heaviness for a moment, because it was deep and sad and real.
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Yeah-- the war started and ended on his land, basically. His farm at Bull Run was the site of the first big battle, and then he moved down to Appomattox.
The poor guy couldn't get a break with his real estate and the armies making use of it.
I like how Longstreet told Lee, "General, unless he offers honorable terms, come back and let us fight it out."
I think I read in "Lee's Lieutenants" that the First Brigade didn't have a white flag to surrender with. Stonewall would have been proud. I'm not certain if it was the First Brigade; however, I know one group didn't have one and I think it was them. I got that book just to read more about Longstreet and Stonewall but it was a great read to learn about all the other commanders under Lee. I recommend reading it if you get the chance because it reads easier than many of the history books I had to (and also chose to) read for my major. Douglas Southall Freeman wrote the book. He specialized on Lee and Washington and won a few Pulitizer Prizes because of his biographies on them.
Also, Chamberlain's salute to Gordon's men was a great gesture.
I like how Longstreet told Lee, "General, unless he offers honorable terms, come back and let us fight it out."
I think I read in "Lee's Lieutenants" that the First Brigade didn't have a white flag to surrender with. Stonewall would have been proud. I'm not certain if it was the First Brigade; however, I know one group didn't have one and I think it was them. I got that book just to read more about Longstreet and Stonewall but it was a great read to learn about all the other commanders under Lee. I recommend reading it if you get the chance because it reads easier than many of the history books I had to (and also chose to) read for my major. Douglas Southall Freeman wrote the book. He specialized on Lee and Washington and won a few Pulitizer Prizes because of his biographies on them.
Also, Chamberlain's salute to Gordon's men was a great gesture.
The final days of the Civil War have always fascinated me, most specifically the last hours of the seige at Petersburg (the first modern trench warfare) right up until Appomattox.
Lee's Army (or Lee's Miserables as they liked to call themselves) was down to a few thousand men and boys, some barefoot, all half-starved.
Arrayed against them, Grant's army now numbers more than 100,000, rested, well-trained and ... most frighteningly of all ... well-armed with the first repeater rifles.
The final sad battles between the two must have been a nightmare for the South ... wave after wave of bluecoats firing what must have seemed like machine guns (if they'd been invented yet) for every shot fired by the Rebels.
And then the "Civil" War stumbles to an exhausted end in this place at this time, outside Appomattox Court House, once again in a strangely perverse symmetry, on the land of Wilmer McLean.
One other footnote. Enroute to their slaughter at Fredericksburg, the newly recruited Irish Brigade, most of whom only spoke Gaelic, spent the night on the site of the battles of 1st and 2nd Bull Run. During the night, a horrific storm with pounding rain lashes the camp site.
And all around the Irish Brigade, the rain washes away the shallow graves of the Union dead, exposing their bones and corpses.
War is hell.
RFDIII
Lee's Army (or Lee's Miserables as they liked to call themselves) was down to a few thousand men and boys, some barefoot, all half-starved.
Arrayed against them, Grant's army now numbers more than 100,000, rested, well-trained and ... most frighteningly of all ... well-armed with the first repeater rifles.
The final sad battles between the two must have been a nightmare for the South ... wave after wave of bluecoats firing what must have seemed like machine guns (if they'd been invented yet) for every shot fired by the Rebels.
And then the "Civil" War stumbles to an exhausted end in this place at this time, outside Appomattox Court House, once again in a strangely perverse symmetry, on the land of Wilmer McLean.
One other footnote. Enroute to their slaughter at Fredericksburg, the newly recruited Irish Brigade, most of whom only spoke Gaelic, spent the night on the site of the battles of 1st and 2nd Bull Run. During the night, a horrific storm with pounding rain lashes the camp site.
And all around the Irish Brigade, the rain washes away the shallow graves of the Union dead, exposing their bones and corpses.
War is hell.
RFDIII
# posted by 
: 11:42 AM
: 11:42 AM
Wilmer McLean, who could rightfully say that "the war began in my front yard and ended in my front parlor."
I've been to Appomattox, to Lexington, and to many other Civil War battlefields. There is a gravitas there that begs to be absorbed, slowly, thoughtfully, and deliberately.
I sang my first Verdi REQUIEM in Harrisburg, PA, not far from Gettysburg. I spent several hours at that battlefield, the morning and early afternoon of that first performance. Little Round Top, the Cornfield, Cemetery Ridge, Seminary Ridge, the Devil's Den... all of those put me in exactly the right frame of mind to go to work later and to try and honor those on both sides, and Verdi, with the best performance I could give.
I shall never forget that day, or that night.
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I sang my first Verdi REQUIEM in Harrisburg, PA, not far from Gettysburg. I spent several hours at that battlefield, the morning and early afternoon of that first performance. Little Round Top, the Cornfield, Cemetery Ridge, Seminary Ridge, the Devil's Den... all of those put me in exactly the right frame of mind to go to work later and to try and honor those on both sides, and Verdi, with the best performance I could give.
I shall never forget that day, or that night.
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