Chapter 1
Petersburg Goes to War
Like all Americans in the year 1860, the 18,266 residents of Petersburg, Virginia, were caught up in the great national controversy that would soon lead to civil war. Most of Petersburgâs citizens initially favored remaining in the Union, though their representative in the Virginia legislature, John Herbert Claiborne, was a secessionist. Claiborneâs views were supported by the younger men in the city, who often attempted to raise âsecession polesâ on Petersburgâs streets. In turn, these poles were cut down and destroyed by Unionists, who represented a majority of the older and more influential residents. When Governor Letcher called a convention to determine Virginiaâs course of action, Petersburg chose Thomas Branch, a successful merchant and conservative elder statesman of the city, to cast its vote for Union.1
Gradually, sentiment in the city began to change. A citizenâs letter dated March 23, 1861, noted âTomâ Branchâs selection, but the writer believed that if the election were to be held again, a secessionist representative would be chosen. In the end, President Abraham Lincolnâs request for Virginia troops to join in suppressing the states which had already seceded made Petersburgâs, and Virginiaâs, Unionist position untenable. Following Lincolnâs call, the Virginia Convention voted to take the state out of the Union, and Petersburg by this time agreed with the delegatesâ decision. Remembering the cityâs contribution to the nation and knowing that war would jeopardize all the progress that had been made in Petersburgâs 112-year history, the respectable citizens of the Cockade City had stood for Union as long as they could. With Lincolnâs action they could resist no longer and were forced to join the rising tide of secessionist sentiment. Petersburg residents risked more than many rural Southerners by going to war in 1861, but in the last analysis they had no other choice.2
Once the decision for war was reached, the citizens of Petersburg immediately took steps to serve the cause. The first resource to be mobilized was manpower. Most of the young men who had clamored so strongly for war enlisted at once, if they were not already members of militia companies which joined the Confederate army en masse. Altogether Petersburg furnished 17 separate units for Confederate serviceâ11 infantry companies, three cavalry companies, and three artillery batteries. Added to this number were the men who enlisted in units formed in other localities. Petersburg residents proudly boasted that they sent more men to war than the total number of registered voters in the city. As if this were not contribution enough, in the fall of 1863 the fear of a Federal assault led to the formation of a City Battalion of reserves commanded by Maj. Peter V. Batte. The few remaining prewar militia companies were joined by several new ones at a camp of instruction located at the head of Washington Street. There instructors furnished by the Confederate government drilled the troops for over a month before allowing them to return to their homes. Exempt from conscription because of their age or skills, these men remained ready for instant mobilization should an enemy threat appear.3
Petersburgâs industry was also drafted into the war effort. Most of the tobacco factories closed their doors but the cotton mills operated at capacity from the beginning, producing tent cloth, sheets, and uniform material for the Confederacy. Uriah Wells and William Tappey ceased production of agricultural implements and iron railings, and turned their foundries into repair shops for light artillery and army wagons. The old rope walk that in prewar days had served the river trade now became the Naval Rope Works and turned out cordage for the Confederate navy. Just west of the city an entirely new industry, a powder mill, sprang up almost overnight. Near the head of Halifax Street, Col. Josiah Gorgas, Chief of Ordnance of the Confederate army, established a large lead smelter which processed ore from as far away as Wytheville. Even the productive capacity of Petersburgâs women was utilized with the formation of a sewing society to make uniforms. Receiving their orders from the Quartermaster Department in Richmond and their cloth from the local mills, the ladies rented a store in front of the court house and made thousands of shirts and pairs of trousers. The weekly payroll of this organization alone often amounted to over $1000 in Confederate currency.4
With the coming of hostilities Petersburgâs railroad network assumed even greater significance than it had had in peacetime. Unfortunately the Confederate government soon discovered that the rails of the Richmond and Petersburg Railroad did not join any of the lines coming into the city from the south, east, and west. This peculiar situation was the result of constant lobbying by the local draying interests, who opposed the loss of the highly lucrative transfer business. Such narrow self-interest could not be allowed to hinder the war effort, and because both the military authorities and the railroads favored closing the gap, countervailing pressure was soon applied. In May 1861 the Richmond city engineer, Washington Gill, made preliminary surveys and after Gen. R. E. Lee spoke in favor of the proposal the Virginia General Assembly formally approved the project. Under the direction of Maj. William S. Ashe, the job was finally completed in late August 1861.5
Another new feature in wartime Petersburg was the establishment of military hospitals within the city. The first hospital opened early in the war, soon after the ladies of Bollingbrook Street found an ill soldier resting in a doorway. Funds which were to have gone toward the construction of a gunboat were diverted to the hospital cause and from these modest beginnings Petersburgâs system of hospitals developed rapidly. As the war progressed the machinery was removed from idle tobacco factories and replaced by hospital beds. The prevailing practice was to establish separate hospitals for the wounded of each state, staffing them with doctors and nurses from that state as much as possible. Petersburg, therefore, had a Virginia Hospital as well as hospitals for patients from North Carolina, South Carolina, and Georgia. Apparently Southerners from other states were treated at the Confederate States Hospital, which was also located in Petersburg. Dr. John Herbert Claiborne was the Chief Surgeon of the city and was responsible for the management of all of Petersburgâs several hospitals. By the spring of 1864, his patients numbered around 3,000 men.6
The first three years of the war carried with it significant changes for the cityâs residents. The absence of so many of Petersburgâs sons, coupled with the pitiful condition of the wounded convalescing in the cityâs hospitals piled heavy emotional burdens upon the populace. Unlike the capital of Richmond, there was little gaiety to be seen on the faces of the citizens of the Cockade City. Still, its citizens withstood the constant strain and gradually became conditioned to the new situation. Such inconveniences as martial law and obstructions in the Appomattox River could be easily accommodated into oneâs life, if a small amount of effort were applied. The effects of the war could be seen only in a more âserious and thoughtfulâ manner adopted by most citizens and which was noted by many visitors. The resident acting company still trod the boards at Phoenix Hall, for example, but such amusements no longer represented the spirit of the city.7
More and more the citizens began to turn their energies to philanthropic activities. Whenever a troop train passed through the city in daylight, some residents were always on hand to offer the soldiers flowers, fruit, and food if such items were available. Petersburg had too many of its own men in the army not to be kind to their comrades.8 The local troops themselves were partially supported by the efforts of the Common Council, Petersburgâs governing body. The Council often appropriated large sums to buy shoes and blankets for the 17 units serving with the main armies, but the needs of the troops were never fully met. Nor were the cityâs resources adequate to alleviate the suffering of the poor. The wives and widows of soldiers could not support their families in the absence of the head of the household. In addition, industrial employment had been curtailed in some areas of production, leaving many more people in a destitute condition. The problem was compounded by the presence in the city of a number of refugees from areas under Federal control. Initially the city tried to care for all of these people, but city officials soon found that most refugees and the families of known deserters had to be excluded from the relief rolls. The Common Council established the position of Salt Agent to ration that precious commodity and made similar arrangements in regard to food and fuel. A Board of Relief and a General Board of Charities attempted to coordinate the cityâs efforts, which by 1863 had come to include a soup kitchen. Nevertheless, none of these stopgap measures was more than moderately successful.9
Sycamore Street, Petersburg
Library of Congress
By the fall of 1863 the citizens of Petersburg had begun to feel the economic pinch. The city was so clogged with refugees that the wife of Brig. Gen. Roger Pryor was compelled to search for days before finding accommodations in an abandoned overseerâs cabin. Many of the original residents had moved away temporarily and their houses were occupied by strangers, tenants in some instances and squatters in others. Food was extremely scarce and prices reflected the scarcity. In January of 1864 Donnan and Johnston, Petersburg commission merchants, listed flour at $200 per barrel, butter at $6 per pound, sugar and lard at $4 per pound, beans at $30 per bushel, wheat at $25 per bushel, and tea not available. According to Mrs. Pryor, Petersburg had been âdrained by its generous gifts to the army; regiments were constantly passing, and none ever departed without the offer of refreshment.â Already residents were turning to substitutes for items that in peacetime had been regarded as necessities.10
As if the absence of local men, the passage of troop trains, and the overwhelming scarcity of food were not enough to remind Petersburgâs citizens of the war, another reminder was located just outside the city. If anyoneâs business carried him a mile or so beyond the corporate limits, he passed through a system of fortifications that served as the main line of Petersburgâs defenses. Begun in 1862 by slaves under the direction of a Confederate engineer, Capt. Charles Dimmock, the works had been completed in 1863. This âDimmock Line,â as it was called in Petersburg, extended for 10 miles in a flattened horseshoe around the city, with the points of the horseshoe firmly resting against the Appomattox River east and west of town. The line consisted of long trenches or rifle-pits connecting 55 batteries, redans, and lunettes scattered atop commanding hills or where roads and railroads passed through the system. Within these batteries positions had been prepared for 352 heavy guns, but in the spring of 1864 only a few were in position. On paper the Dimmock Line appeared to be a strong defense, but reality was something different, for time and the elements had not been kind to it. Wind and rain had attacked the parapets and little by little they had crumbled, slowly filling up the ditches. In early 1863 the earth had been freshly turned and the outlines sharply defined, but by the spring of 1864 nature had had her way and the contours of the walls and ditches had become gently rounded. Once the Dimmock Line had been a formidable obstacle; now a horseman could ride over it with ease in more places than not.11
Although the war had measurably altered daily life in Petersburg by the spring of 1864, the city had not experienced the physical devastation that had been the fate of other Southern towns like Fredericksburg and Vicksburg. No hostile armies had menaced Petersburgâs gates, no shells had exploded within its corporate limits, and no barricades impeded traffic on its streets. In 1861 a few citizens claimed they heard the guns roaring at Big Bethel, but this was generally discounted because that hamlet was more than 60 miles away. Malvern Hill was something else entirelyâthere was no question that the dull rumbling heard northeast of the city in July 1862 was anything but cannon firing.12 Nevertheless, while operating on the Peninsula the Federals had at all times been separated from Petersburg by the broad expanse of the James River. The overland approach to the city had long been barred by Confederate troops stationed 50 miles to the southeast along the line of the Blackwater River. These defenses had never really been tested when the Federals had been strong at Suffolk. With the Federal withdrawal to Portsmouth in the summer of 1863, Petersburg seemed doubly secure from a land attack.13
While not yet directly threatened, Petersburg remained a likely target for a Federal advance because it was an integral part of Richmondâs transportation system. With one exception, all of the railroads that linked Richmond with the states south of Virginia converged on Petersburg first. There they merged into a single trunk-line that ran north to the capital. Not only was this thin ribbon of rails the lifeline of the city of Richmond, but the Army of Northern Virginia depended upon it as well. As long as the line remained intact supplies from other states could sustain both the Confederate capital and Robert E. Leeâs veterans. If the line were severed, Confederate forces in Virginia would soon be starved into submission unless service was quickly restored. Obviously the most promising place to disrupt this transportation system was either at Petersburg itself or at some point on the single track between that city and Richmond. This simple fact made the possession of Petersbu...