|War-time sketch by Arthur Lumley shows Union soldiers looting Fredericksburg on Dec. 12, 1862.|
(Library of Congress collection)
|War-time image of 16th Connecticut|
Captain Thomas F. Burke.
A frame-maker when he enlisted in August 1862, Burke apparently had a good eye for fine art. On the walls of his residence on Asylum Street in Hartford, he had "works that another man would have sold easily and at high prices," the Courant noted, "but very often remained with him some time and then went back to their former owners."
During the Civil War, Burke added at least one painting to his art collection.
After the bombardment of Fredericksburg by Federal artillery on Dec.11, 1862, the town was looted by Union army soldiers -- actions that fueled the long-lasting enmity of Confederate soldiers as well as citizens who lived in the town along the Rappahannock River. Soldiers, some under the influence of "Demon Liquor," dragged pianos from houses and absconded with silverware, rare books and even fashionable women's clothing.
"One [of our] rooms was piled more than halfway to the ceiling with feathers from beds ripped open, every mirror had been run through with a bayonet, a panel of each door cut out, furniture nearly all broken up, the china broken to bits, and everything of value taken away," a Fredericksburg woman recalled.
Among items stolen was a beautiful oil painting called "The Saviour at the Garden of Gethsemane," which had hung in the house of a 62-year-old woman named Juliet Neale, one of Fredericksburg's leading citizens. The painting reportedly was given to her by a "distinguished French nobleman."
A wealthy divorcee who was a founding member of the war-time Relief Society, Neale also served as a nurse at Belvoir, where Confederate wounded were treated at the First Battle of Fredericksburg. (Neale's house at 307 Caroline Street, used as a Federal hospital, still stands. See it here on Google Street View.)
|Juliet Neale, whose painting was "obtained" by 16th Connecticut Captain Thomas Burke.|
(Courtesy of Fredericksburg Area Museum and Cultural Center)
|PRESENT-DAY: 307 Caroline Street, where Juliet Neale lived in 1862.|
(Google Street View)
Burke's war-time service was full of hardship and derring-do: On Sept. 17, 1862, he escaped the bloodbath at Antietam, the regiment's first battle of the war, without physical injury. At Fredericksburg, the 16th Connecticut was held in reserve, seeing little action. Captured with most of the rest of the regiment at Plymouth, N.C., on April 20, 1864, he spent six months in Rebel prisons, in Macon, Ga., as well as in Columbia and Charleston, S.C.
|Thomas Burke (right) in a war-time image.|
Returned to a POW stockade in Columbia, Burke and two other 16th Connecticut officers escaped again on Nov. 3, 1864, "with only rags to cover them, and nothing for their journey." Noted an 1872 account:
"The night was dreary and rainy and the roads were very muddy, but, emaciated as they were by over six months confinement and exhausted with the labors of the day and with anxiety, they resolutely pushed on all night and the next day, carefully avoiding the habitations of men, and finding their subsistence in the fields they passed through."Joining forces with other escapees, the fugitives made a perilous journey on a South Carolina river on two boats supplied by local blacks. With a supply of sweet potatoes, turnips and cornbread and the "benediction of the faithful negroes," the eight former POWs traveled for nine days through dangerous back country to the Atlantic Ocean. Three of the soldiers, including 16th Connecticut captains Timothy Robinson and Alfred Dickinson, finally rowed their leaky rowboat miles into the Atlantic to the Union blockader Canandaigua, whose crew was stunned to see them:
"To the officers and men it seemed as if the thunder of their own guns must have startled these fugitives from the caverns of the deep, so incredibly daring was the voyage upon the foaming sea with a boat so leaky and so frail, as hardly to withstand a zephyr, and orders were at once given to take it aboard and keep it as a token of what men would dare to do."The remaining five men were rescued. All eight soldiers were given new uniforms -- their "tattered, vermin rags were thrown into the sea" -- and furloughs to visit home. Perhaps it was during his furlough that Burke admired his ill-gotten goods: the painting from Neale's house. It's unknown how the artwork got to Connecticut in the first place.
|A 16th-century version of "The Saviour at the Garden of Gethsemane." The appearance |
of Juliet Neale's version of this painting is unknown.
Perhaps suffering with a guilty conscience, Owen decided sometime early in the 20th century to return the purloined painting to its rightful owner. In a front-page story under the headline "Relic of the War" on Nov. 26, 1901, the Hartford Courant wrote about Owen's make-good effort:
"Correspondence with Fredericksburg has revealed that the painting was taken from the home of Mrs, Juliet A. Neale, who had bequeathed the house and its contents to her niece, Mrs. H. Mcd. Martin, who is living. Mrs. Martin remembers the picture well as it hung in the house of her aunt."The painting, the newspaper wrote, had been "obtained" by Burke in Fredericksburg during the war. Adding a bit of mystery to the story, the Courant wrote that "for a time [the painting] was mislaid and recently it was recovered."
|On Nov. 26, 1901, the Hartford Courant reported about|
the discovery of a painting "obtained" by a
Connecticut officer in Fredericksburg in 1862.
"Before it came into my hands it had been cut from the frame, rolled tight and cracked," Owen wrote in a letter to Neale's niece. "It has been oiled several times to preserve it, but experts say it can never be restored to its original appearance."
The story doesn't end here. Sadly, Juliet Neale's painting again is missing. While aware of the long-ago media coverage of its return to Virginia, Neale's historically-minded descendants in Fredericksburg are unaware of its current whereabouts.
Could it be in a Virginia museum, perhaps somewhere in the Fredericksburg area? Was it donated to an historical society? Is it rolled up, crumbling and forgotten, in an attic or basement somewhere in Fredericksburg? Could it have been sold at a flea market to a buyer unaware of its rich history? Perhaps readers can provide clues. Without details of the size or even content of the painting, the search could be fruitless. But we hope ...
We also wonder what Thomas Burke, the man who started this story, would think of it all. Perhaps his long-ago obituary in the Hartford Courant offers a hint:
"He would pinch himself to help a stranger and never would think twice of it. He will be singularly regretted by those who knew him well enough to understand the real man that lay somewhat hidden under a rather misleading exterior."
Have something to add (or correct) in this post? E-mail me here.
SOURCES AND NOTES
-- Baltimore Sun, Nov. 27, 1901
-- Confederate Veteran, Vol.25, 1917, Page 534
-- Connecticut War Record, December 1864
-- Bristol (Conn.) Press, June 7, 1872
-- Fredericksburg Remembered -- Musings on history, public history, and historic Fredericksburg, "The Women of Fredericksburg Mobilize," Oct. 3, 2010 (blog accessed Dec. 17, 2016.)
-- Hartford Courant, Jan. 19, 1872, April 18, 1885, April 20, 1885, Nov. 26, 1901
-- Richmond Dispatch, Nov. 27, 1901
-- The Free Lance, Fredericksburg, Va., Nov. 30, 1901
-- 1860 U.S. census