Gone in 2013: Gettysburg Cyclorama Building

As 2013 closed, I saw a link to an article titled Important Buildings We Lost in 2013. As a lover of historic buildings, I clicked the link to see what made the list. I was sure that I'd find ones I knew about and ones I didn't, as well as ones I agreed with as being important and ones I didn't.

The fifth building down was the Cyclorama Building at Gettysburg National Military Park. The building was constructed in 1962 (just one year before the battle's centennial) by modernist architect Richard Neutra to house an amazing 360-degree painting of the battle created in 1883.

Cyclorama Building, Courtesy Flickr

Overhead view of the building. Courtesy Modisabi.

In 2005, the painting was removed from the building for conservation work. In 2008, the painting was installed in the brand new visitor center. With the painting now conserved and hanging in a new location, the Cyclorama Building, which was built specifically for the painting, was obsolete.

Both the Cyclorama Building and the old visitor center (demolished in 2008) were built on key parts of the battlefield. Their modern intrusion onto the landscape disrupted the ability to see and connect with what actually happened there during three hot days in July 1863.



Sticking out like a sore thumb. Courtesy NPS.

Admittedly, it was a huge mistake for the National Park Service to have built them there in the first place. That said, this was during their 50th anniversary "Mission 66" phase and they built a lot of weird crap in places they shouldn't have in parks all over the country during that time.

There were no plans to reuse the Cyclorama Building for any other purpose by the NPS - and why should they? It no longer served the purpose for which it was built and it was an imposition to interpretation goals that are vital to the park and its main purpose.

The decision was made to demolish the building. Critics of the demolition claimed that it was vital to retain the building because it was an example of Neutra's modernist work. OK, that's all good and well, but let's play a game. It's called "One Of These Things Is Not Like The Other." I'm going to give you a list of words and you tell me which one doesn't belong. Simple, right? I'm sure you can handle it. OK, here we go:

Gettysburg. Civil War. Modernist. 1863.

Did you find which one doesn't belong? Most people can plainly see that "Modernist" is the word that doesn't belong here. Unfortunately, some people felt that all four of those went together just fine.

Ugh.

Fast forward to March 2010. The Cyclorama Building has been sitting vacant since 2005 - five whole years. Do you know what happens to a building when it sits vacant with no maintenance for five years? It begins to fall apart. Just like an abandoned house or car in a field, after five years, nature begins to reclaim the land. The infrastructure is no longer sound and it will cost a ton of money to bring it back to a usable state.

Demolition by neglect? Absolutely. Planned all along? You bet. The wrong thing to do? No way.

Back to March 2010. I was working for the NPS and was doing a detail with the Northeast Regional Office's regional architect. Our task was to complete the ratings on the park's List of Classified Structures (LCS) to see how things were holding up in the park. At Gettysburg, this includes things like monuments, cannons, roads, ... and buildings. This included the Cyclorama Building.

As I mentioned, it had been sitting vacant for five years and was in rough shape. Now, I'm a preservationist by training and I absolutely love historic structures. (Which, I might add, the Cyclorama Building can be considered since it is more than 50 years old. That said, it was not classified as a "contributing structure" to the battlefield for obvious reasons.) So this is where you might find what I'm about to say as contradictory and blasphemous. Are you ready?

I rated the building in poor condition. That rating, combined with the lack of a plan for the structure, no doubt led to its demolition in March 2013. And you know what? I'm proud of that. That's right. I'm proud of my rating that likely helped get the Cyclorama Building torn down. Why? Because it doesn't fit the mission at Gettysburg! That building had nothing to do with the Civil War!

Gettysburg Superintendent Bob Kirby says that Gettysburg is "a symbol of America's struggle to survive as a nation and as a lasting memorial to the armies and soldiers who served in that great conflict." Do you see anything in there about preserving the modernist designs of architect Richard Neutra? No? Neither do I.

When the building came down in March 2013, it made the news. Some people were pissed. But me? I sat back and smiled, knowing that I had helped play a part - however small - in making that happen.

Cyclorama Building during demolition. Courtesy Flickr.

Now that the building is gone, the NPS can focus on returning the land to the way it looked in July 1863. And really, as we sit here just the other side of Gettysburg's 150th anniversary and entering the fourth year of the Civil War's sesquicentennial, what better way is there to honor the brave men on both sides who fought and died there than by returning the land to its original appearance? I can't think of any.

In the Shadow of DC's Slave Pens

With the release of the movie 12 Years A Slave, there has been a lot of discussion online about sites in Virginia where Solomon Northup was taken and held along his journey. I was familiar with a few of them, such as Aquia Harbor and Alexandria.

Northup was even held in DC for awhile since slavery wasn't outlawed there until 1850. I was also aware that while he was in one of the pens in DC, he could see the US Capitol. However, I did not realize that for the past year and a half, I've been working no more than 50 yards from where he was held!

I often sat and ate my lunch outside in an area that, 163 years ago, would have been close enough to hear the enslaved people within the pens.

Go ahead, let that sink in for a minute; I'll wait.

.......

OK, now that it has sunk in, let's continue.

To give you a visual perspective of what I'm talking about, here's an annotated image from Google Maps.

As you can see from the image, my building is right near two of the largest slave operations in Washington, D.C.

One of the slave pens, owned by William H. Williams, was also known as "Yellow House." The space is currently occupied by an FAA building. According to one description, the Williams site was a "modest, well-maintained two-story yellow house, set back by a grove of trees. A 12 foot-high brick wall encircled the rear of the house. The yard provided space for training and selling slaves; in the basement, slaves were detained, chained to walls. A particularly infamous market, sounds of shackles, whips, and fierce dog barks often emanated from the site."

In 1850, a Smithsonian Regent by the name of Jefferson Davis noted that  "[i]t is the house by which all must go who wish to reach the building of the Smithsonian Institution." Eleven years later, Davis would serve as President of the Confederate States of America.

Williams' "Yellow House" location today

The other slave pen, owned by Mr. Robey, is described as being "surrounded by a wooden paling fourteen or fifteen feet in height, with the posts outside to prevent escape and separated from the building by a space too narrow to admit of a free circulation of air." Robey's pen, too, is now occupied by an FAA building.

 

Robey's location today

As I mentioned earlier, it was recorded that Solomon Northup could see the US Capitol while being held in the slave pen. Here's a photo I took from the street between Robey's location on the left and my office building (just out of the frame) on the right.

View of US Capitol today from between Robey's (left) and my office (right).

I had absolutely no idea that I had been enjoying my lunch break in view of DC's slave pens. I have sat outside on the grass, eating and listening to live music with people hustling and bustling all around me, in and out of the L'Enfant Metro stop, all blissfully unaware that we were within spitting distance of slave pens.

This just goes to show you that history is all around you. Even if you can no longer see it, it is still there.

150th Anniversary of Lincoln's 272 Words

I was awake at 4:15am on the morning of November 19. I couldn't sleep and wondered if Lincoln, 150 years before, found himself awake at the same time. I was up because I knew this day - the 150th anniversary of the Gettysburg Address - was a momentous occasion. If Lincoln was up, it probably was not because of pre-speech jitters. After all, he was not the keynote speaker; his presence was almost an afterthought. Instead, it was probably because the war that was ripping the nation apart was weighing heavy on his mind.

 

After a quick breakfast followed by some unfortunate car troubles, I was on a shuttle bus to the Soldiers' National Cemetery at 6:30am. By 6:45am, hundreds of us poured into the cemetery and into the white plastic chairs awaiting our arrival. With my spot secured, it was time to start the waiting game. It would be another three hours and fifteen minutes before the ceremony began.

 

According to The Weather Channel, it never got above 44 degrees with a wind chill of 37 degrees the entire time we sat there. Oh well, it's all mind over matter. This only happens once!

 

Around 9am, the musical portion of the program began. The same band I saw the night before at the train station, President Lincoln's Own Band, as well as the local high school band, were both outfitted in 19th century military dress and played for us. This was followed by the United States Marine Band.

 

At 10am, the program began. Dignitaries included Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia, the Governor of Pennsylvania, assorted US Representatives and Congressmen, Secretary of the Interior, Director of the National Park Service, Pulitzer Prize-winning author James McPherson, and, of course, President Abraham Lincoln portrayed by James Getty.

 

The entire program was very well done and included the Oath of Allegiance for 16 new citizens by Justice Scalia. It concluded with a moving performance of echo Taps.

 

Obviously, the highlight was James Getty's delivery of the Gettysburg Address. So, without further ado, here's my video of the Gettysburg Address on the 150th anniversary:

 

I took a few photos, but there are far better shots available elsewhere on the internet.

It was an incredibly moving experience to follow Lincoln's journey from the Gettysburg train station, to the David Wills house, and finally to the Soldiers' National Cemetery for the delivery of the Gettysburg Address.

I found myself saying, "this only happens once every 150 years," throughout the day, but a friend corrected me. In another 150 years, it will be the 300th anniversary. This moment - the 150th anniversary of the Gettysburg Address - is a once-in-a-lifetime experience. It was an honor to be a part of it and I hope I'm able to be there as a 75-year-old man for the bicentennial in 2063.

Greeting President Lincoln

On the evening of November 18, 1863, Abraham Lincoln arrived in Gettysburg at the train station and stayed the night at the home of resident David Wills. It was in a bedroom at the Wills house that Lincoln put the finishing touches on the remarks he would give the next day at the dedication of a cemetery for soldiers who died there four and a half months earlier.

150 years later, I traveled to Gettysburg to commemorate Lincoln's arrival.

I arrived at the Gettysburg train station around 5:15pm, approximately 45 minutes before Lincoln arrived 150 years earlier. The station, which has been added onto over the years, is now one of the city's visitor centers. Filled with info and exhibits, I spent some time reading and waiting for Lincoln to arrive.

Gettysburg train station

Around 5:30, a band portraying the Marine Corps band during the 1860s had assembled outside the station to play some music. They were soon joined by David Wills and we all waited for the President to arrive. Right on cue, the President arrived around 6pm and the band played "Hail to the Chief." He gave a few remarks and then made his way through the station and onto the streets of Gettysburg.

Lincoln and Wills made their way to Wills' home amid a huge crowd. Along the way, they talked about a variety of pressing topics, among them being that Lincoln's son Tad was suffering from a fever.

Lincoln and Wills on the streets of Gettysburg

Upon arriving at the Wills house, Lincoln spent over an hour on the steps of the home, talking with people, taking photos, and answering questions.

I ventured inside to get out of the cold and wind. While there, I met Michael McKee and his wife. As it turns out, Michael is the great great grandson of David Wills on his mother's side. His grandmother remembered visiting the home as a very young girl before it was sold out of the family after David Wills' death in 1894. It was really neat to stand in the Wills home with a direct descendant.

In the Wills house with Wills' great great grandson

Overall, it was a really cool experience. Spending the evening walking in the footsteps of Lincoln and Wills exactly 150 years after they made the journey from the station to the house was awesome.

In Search of Nottingham

Alexander Spotswood 1674-1740

The first home was built here around 1774 by General Alexander Spotswood, grandson of colonial Virginia (Lieutenant) Governor Alexander Spotswood (1674-1740). The colonial governor took ownership of this tract of land in 1722. Alexander had a son named John who had a son named Alexander. The grandson Alexander's father, John, was married to a cousin of Martha Washington, George Washington's wife. Alexander the grandson was married to George Washington's niece, Elizabeth.

William Lawrence McCarthy Spotswood (1791-1871[?]), great-grandson of the colonial governor, built Nottingham, the focus of this post. It is named after the location in England where his father attended school. The exact date of construction is unknown, but it has to pre-date 1834 because the land was sold out of the Spotswood family at that time.

I first heard about Nottingham in January 2009. I was still in college pursuing my degree in historic preservation when a fellow preservationist friend of mine had heard that it was slated to be demolished in the near future. Fearing the worst, we hopped in the car and headed off into Spotsylvania County looking for a home with no address and no exact location. After getting lost, backtracking, and almost giving up, we finally spotted the home about a quarter of a mile off of the main road.

Heading up the drive, we got our first glimpse

We got out of the car and got our first good look at the once-stately home.

 

A survey of the home was done in 1936 by Sue Gordon. Already by that time, she noted that the home was "in rather poor repair." That said, she was still able to observe walnut handrails, a combination of panelled and painted walls, wrought iron hardware on pine doors, and a partially original yellow pine floor.

1936 and 2009

The image above shows the difference in Nottingham's front facade between 1936 and 2009. At some point, the second story porch was removed. The tuscan supporting columns were replaced with much taller square beams and the central doorway upstairs now opens to nothing.

Simply put, Nottingham was a mere shell of its former self. There was no longer any indication that this was the home of a very important Virginia family. The home had obviously been modernized at one point, but the home was clearly a goner by this point. All of the flooring for the second floor was gone - ripped out of the walls, making for a very awkward presentation of second floor doorways and closets that open onto nothing below them.

Sad remains of the second floor

Much of the flooring was missing on the first floor as well. Giant holes scarred the walls, too. It was all likely ripped up to be resold and to provide access to valuable copper piping hidden within and underneath.

First floor destruction

We poked around outside some more before leaving. Sue Gordon mentioned that a separate kitchen building was present in 1936, complete with a brick walk leading to the house. It was long gone by the time we got there.

Upon arriving back at campus, I showed the photos I took to one of my historic preservation professors. He and another colleague made arrangements with the developer who owned the site to make measured drawings of the home so that it could be documented for posterity. They went out to the site on a handful of occasions and documented the home.

As we headed down the driveway to leave, I remember stopping the car and sticking my head out the sunroof for one last look. It was like saying goodbye to a long lost relative you only recently met yet felt an immediate bond with. I was sad to go and know that it would soon be torn down, but I was delighted to have spent some time there.

By the following spring, Nottingham was no more. It now lives on only in architectural drawings, in my photos, and in my memory.

In the Cellars of George Washington's Boyhood Home

George Washington spent his life in three main homes in Virginia. I've been lucky enough to work at two of them.

He was born in 1732 at Pope's Creek Plantation. I worked there from 2009-2012; it is now known as George Washington Birthplace National Monument. In 1735, his family moved to Little Hunting Creek (later renamed Mount Vernon by his half-brother Lawrence) and remained there until George was 6. Then they moved to what is now known as Ferry Farm, though it would have been known as the Washington Farm in George's time. I worked there in 2008, though I worked for the Foundation that runs the site from 2007-2009. (I spent most of my time at Kenmore, the 18th century plantation home of George's sister, Betty.)

Mount Vernon is neat because it is the only site that has original buildings left on the landscape. His birthplace was "excavated" by "archaeologists" in the 1930s. They found a lot of material, but archaeology wasn't very refined then, so it is difficult to interpret what they found.

Ferry Farm, however, is unique because they have been doing meticulous archaeology since 2000 and it has yielded some wonderful results.

When I started working for the Foundation in 2007, I had no idea they were on the verge of changing Washington history as we know it. I also had no idea that I was going to get to play a vital role in educating thousands of people about this change in history.

In the summer of 2008, The George Washington Foundation prepared to announce that they had finally found the site of the home that George grew up in from age 6 to about age 20. A site that was assumed to have been lost to history had been found! In addition, they were able to put to rest the story that George's house burned to the ground. There was a fire, yes, but it did not destroy the home. This was big. I mean really big.

When it was all said and done, National Geographic produced a documentary called "The Real George Washington" and it can be streamed on YouTube by clicking here.

The announcement was made on July 2, 2008.

Nationwide print, radio, and TV news media? Check
National Geographic? Check
Virginia's Speaker of the House? Check
Current (as of then) and former Virginia governors? Check

The day was huge. Big speeches were given by the dignitaries and then they got to see the remains of the house. For part of the day, I played the role of human pushpin, marking the location of one of the site's features while dignitaries looked at the site.

Cellars from George's boyhood home

Of course, this was also a party, so there was food and drink. At one point I found myself standing with former Virginia Governor George Allen and Virginia's Speaker of the House Bill Howell discussing beer and baseball. (The former I know a decent bit about; the latter I know nothing at all.)

It was an exhausting day followed by an even more exhausting rest of the summer. The tremendous amount of press coverage led to an explosion in visitation. Most of my job was to give tours of the site and there were some days where we were so busy that I never even had time to eat lunch!

You can visit the site and see where they're currently excavating in what is, essentially, the back yard. They've found a kitchen, slave quarters, etc, but the house site has been covered up and sodded over for protection. The corners are outlined for visual reference, but it just isn't the same.

Looking back on it now, it was a truly remarkable thing to be a part of. There aren't many people who can say that they stood in the cellars of George Washington's boyhood home. I'm lucky to count myself as one of them.

Clover Hill: The Honeymoon is Over

Located near Culpeper, Virginia, I only recently learned of Clover Hill's existence. It has an interesting and rich history, but is destined to meet a very sad fate.

Reportedly built in 1775, Clover Hill was built in the Gothic style long before it was popular. It was home to James Barbour (1828 - 1895), who was a lawyer, planter, Virginia delegate to the 1860 Democratic National Convention, delegate for the 1861 Virginia secession convention, and a major in the Confederate Army under General Richard S. Ewell. His father, John, served in the War of 1812 as aide-de-camp to future president James Madison.

Needless to say, there's a lot of history in this home and the people who lived there. However, Clover Hill wasn't done witnessing history.

After the battle of Brandy Station in June 1863, Lieutenant Colonel Frank Hampton (brother of Lieutenant General Wade Hampton) of the 2nd South Carolina Cavalry died in the front-right first-floor room of the house.



 

Wade Hampton

Frank Hampton

 

 

While this is certainly notable and significant in the home's history, it is trumped less than a year later, in February 1864, by another historic event in the home.

George Armstrong Custer (of Little Big Horn fame) honeymooned with his bride, Elizabeth "Libbie" Bacon Custer, at Clover Hill for about a month. Custer called the place "Camp Libbie" in her honor.



George and Libbie 

 





Clover Hill with Custer and staff, March 1864



Clover Hill obviously survived the Civil War and was home to a number of families well into the 20th century. Sadly, it has been vacant for many years now.

Clover Hill, November 2013

The bushes out front have grown so tall and so rotund that it is impossible to see in this photo the porch where Custer and his staff posed almost 150 years ago. Trust me, though, the porch is still there.

Seeing Clover Hill's sad state of disrepair is utterly gutwrenching to anyone who appreciates history and old houses. Supposedly, the owner has been contacted in the past about selling the home so that it can be preserved. Unfortunately, the efforts were fruitless. Now, it seems, all is lost. It would take a tremendous amount of time, energy, and money to bring the home back to livable condition.

Standing on the property, it is all but impossible to imagine this place as the home of a once-proud and accomplished Virginia family. It is even harder still to imagine it as a lovely honeymoon destination for George Custer and his young bride, Libbie. Instead, it is easier to imagine it as the place where Frank Hampton died because, like Frank, Clover Hill has drawn its last breath.