This is a selective collection of Harper’s Weekly woodcut images from throughout 1865 regarding cruelties at Andersonville. The original descriptions of illustrations of the jailor’s trial and rebel treatment of Union prisoners is presented. About This Document -- Several years ago, Fauquier resident Paul Mellon kindly gifted a collection of Harper’s Weekly news magazines to the Fauquier Historical Society. They are a great educational source of engraved images highlighting Civil War events published when most newspapers were only words. The images illuminate the story.

This is a selective collection of Harper’s Weekly woodcut Civil War images during the second half of 1865. The original descriptions of illustrations and events including Davis’ flight, devastation, Gen. Grant, Amy Spain, and Richmond recovering. Events resulting from horrors of Andersonville and trial of H. Wirz occurring during this period are in Part 2. About This Document -- Several years ago, Fauquier resident Paul Mellon kindly gifted a collection of Harper’s Weekly news magazines to the Fauquier Historical Society. They are a great educational source of engraved images highlighting Civil War events published when most newspapers were only words. The images illuminate the story.

How a single haunting image tells a story about violence, mourning, and memory In 1865, Clara Barton traveled to the site of the notorious Confederate prison camp in Andersonville, Georgia, where she endeavored to name the missing and the dead. The future founder of the American Red Cross also collected their relics—whittled spoons, woven reed plates, a piece from the prison’s “dead line,” a tattered Bible—and brought them back to her Missing Soldiers Office in Washington, DC, presenting them to politicians, journalists, and veterans’ families before having them photographed together in an altar-like arrangement. Relics of War reveals how this powerful image, produced by Mathew Brady, opens a window into the volatile relationship between suffering, martyrdom, and justice in the wake of the Civil War. Jennifer Raab shows how this photograph was a crucial part of Barton’s efforts to address the staggering losses of a war in which nearly half of the dead were unnamed and from which bodies were rarely returned home for burial. The Andersonville relics gave form to these absent bodies, offered a sacred site for grief and devotion, mounted an appeal on behalf of the women and children left behind, and testified to the crimes of war. The story of the photograph illuminates how military sacrifice was racialized as political reconciliation began, and how the stories of Black soldiers and communities were silenced. Richly illustrated, Relics of War vividly demonstrates how one photograph can capture a precarious moment in history, serving as witness, advocate, evidence, and memory.

From the first incident of petty theft to modern media piracy, crime and punishment have been a part of every society. However, the structure and values of a particular society shape both the incidences of crime and the punishment of criminals. When the United States became an independent nation, politicians and civilians began the process of deciding which systems of punishment were appropriate for dealing with crimea process that continues to this day. Crime and Punishment in America examines the development of crime and punishment in the United Statesfrom the criminal justice practices of American Indians and the influence of colonists to the mistreatment of slaves, as well as such current criminal issues as the response to international terrorism.

The Confederate prison known as Andersonville existed for only the last fourteen months of the Civil War―but its well-documented legacy of horror has lived on in the diaries of its prisoners and the transcripts of the trial of its commandant. The diaries describe appalling conditions in which vermin-infested men were crowded into an open stockade with a single befouled stream as their water source. Food was scarce and medical supplies virtually nonexistent. The bodies of those who did not survive the night had to be cleared away each morning. Designed to house 10,000 Yankee prisoners, Andersonville held 32,000 during August 1864. Nearly a third of the 45,000 prisoners who passed through the camp perished. Exposure, starvation, and disease were the main causes, but excessively harsh penal practices and even violence among themselves contributed to the unprecedented death rate. At the end of the war, outraged Northerners demanded retribution for such travesties, and they received it in the form of the trial and subsequent hanging of Captain Henry Wirz, the prison’s commandant. The trial was the subject of legal controversy for decades afterward, as many people felt justice was ignored in order to appease the Northerners’ moral outrage over the horrors of Andersonville. The story of Andersonville is a complex one involving politics, intrigue, mismanagement, unfortunate timing, and, of course, people - both good and bad. Relying heavily on first-person reports and legal documents, author Catherine Gourley gives us a fascinating look into one of the most painful incidents of U.S. history.

Lew Wallace (1827–1905) won fame for his novel, Ben-Hur, and for his negotiations with William H. Bonney, aka Billy the Kid, during the Lincoln County Wars of 1878–81. He was a successful lawyer, a notable Indiana politician, and a capable military administrator. And yet, as history and his own memoir tell us, Wallace would have traded all these accolades for a moment of military glory in the Civil War to save the Union. Where previous accounts have sought to discredit or defend Wallace’s performance as a general in the war, author Christopher R. Mortenson takes a more nuanced approach. Combining military biography, historical analysis, and political insight, Politician in Uniform provides an expanded and balanced view of Wallace’s military career—and offers the reader a new understanding of the experience of a voluntary general like Lew Wallace. A rising politician from Indiana, Wallace became a Civil War general through his political connections. While he had much success as a regimental commander, he ran into trouble at the brigade and division levels. A natural rivalry and tension between West Pointers and political generals might have accounted for some of these difficulties, but many, as Mortenson shows us, were of Wallace’s own making. A temperamental officer with a “rough” conception of manhood, Wallace often found his mentors wanting, disrespected his superiors, and vigorously sought opportunities for glorious action in the field, only to perform poorly when given the chance. Despite his flaws, Mortenson notes, Wallace contributed both politically and militarily to the war effort—in the fight for Fort Donelson and at the Battle of Shiloh, in the defense of Cincinnati and southern Indiana, and in the administration of Baltimore and the Middle Department. Detailing these and other instances of Wallace’s success along with his weaknesses and failures, Mortenson provides an unusually thorough and instructive picture of this complicated character in his military service. His book clearly demonstrates the unique complexities of evaluating the performance of a politician in uniform.

R. Fred Ruhlman goes beyond merely examining the trial of Henry Wirz--which resulted in Wirz's execution--and presents his story and that of Andersonville in an engaging and thoughtful treatment. Removing the layers of mythology that have attached to Wirz over the years, Ruhlman offers a close examination of Wirz and the harsh politics and ideology, Northern and Southern, that swirled around the ending of the nation's greatest conflict. Neither a martyr nor a murderer, Wirz was an imperfect, sometimes misguided, and always misunderstood soldier caught in the vortex of circumstance while attempting to do his duty.