This is the Civil War tune, The Battle Cry Of Freedom.
I packed up my things that morning at Bear Creek State Park, then I got in my truck and headed east towards Richmond. Around 10 a.m.,
I pulled into the mostly-empty parking lot of Petersburg National Battlefield.
It was pretty hot and humid, but the Visitor Center was nicely air-conditioned so I lingered there a while, then I walked around the grounds and drove
along the park's tour road, stopping at most of the sites along the way.
Petersburg isn't as famous as some other Civil War battlefields, like Gettysburg, Antietam, or Shiloh, but I was fascinated with it because it was so
unique. In the spring of 1864, after three bloody years of Civil War, General Grant's Union Army pushed Robert E. Lee and the weary Confederate
troops southward towards the Confederate capital of Richmond in a series of relentless battles.
Mimicking what would later become known as the "Energizer Bunny," the Union Army took a beating but kept on pushing, much to
the relief of President Lincoln, who had suffered through a long string of incompetent and half-hearted Union Army commanders, including
generals McClellan, Burnside, Pope, and Hooker. When one of Lincoln's advisors suggested demoting the hard-drinking, cigar-chomping
Grant, Lincoln retorted, "I can't get rid of Grant. He fights!"
General Grant suffered a major setback in June, 1864, however, at Cold Harbor, north of Richmond, when his troops repeatedly
attacked well-entrenched Confederate forces but were thrown back with 12,000 Union troops killed. Years later, Grant would
admit that, "My greatest regret was issuing that last charge at Cold Harbor." These days, Americans get upset
when a few dozen American troops get killed in action, so it's hard to imagine how people would react today if 12,000 soldiers died in a
single battle. That kind of carnage is nearly incomprehensible.
Above: The Visitor Center at Petersburg National Battlefield near Richmond, Virginia.
After the debacle at Cold Harbor, though, the steadfast Grant continued pushing south. Abandoning his plan for a frontal assault
on Richmond, Grant stopped outside of the key city of Petersburg, where three Confederate railroad lines merged and supplied Richmond to the
north. Grant's troops began digging in on the outskirts of Petersburg, hoping to push the rebels out of town, and the Confederate army,
defending Petersburg, did likewise.
For the next ten months, Grant continued entrenching around Petersburg, knowing that the smaller Confederate army would eventually be stretched
too thin to withstand an attack. For the troops on both sides, the siege meant an endless supply of mud, cannon fire, and whizzing bullets, and
during the 10-month siege, over 16,000 men died here. On April 2, 1865, the beleaguered General Lee abandoned his fortifications at Petersburg
and fled west towards Appomattox, where he surrendered to Grant one week later, thus ending the Civil War.
A Letter from the Petersburg Trenches:
June 23, 1864
Dear Mother,
... We remained on the skirmish line all the next day in the broiling sun
without anything to shelter us from the sun, in little pits about the size of a
common grave, though not half so well furnished. There we lay, and every time a
man showed his head, 'zip' would come a minnie [a bullet]. The bullets would just skin
the top of the pit that I occupied, warning me to keep close to my mother earth ...
I'd been to the Petersburg Battlefield once before. That visit, about 15 years ago, was much too brief, so this time I spent
about three hours walking around the battlefield.
One of the highlights of the park is a life-size replica of "The Dictator," a massive 17,000-pound Union mortar that
once heaved 225-pound balls into the Confederate lines. Jeez, you thought that barking dog next door was a noisy pain
in the butt! The mortar was fired only 218 times during the 10-month siege, though, so its effect on the Confederate troops
was mostly psychological. But then, so is the neighbor's barking dog.
Another highlight was a 45-minute tour led by the very animated Ranger Joyce, in which she described the Battle
of the Crater. To break the siege at Petersburg, Union troops dug a 400-foot long tunnel under the Confederate
lines and packed it with gunpowder. When the charge blew, it created a huge crater which Union troops rushed
into. They faltered, though, due to poor planning and leadership – generally the Union story of the entire war –
and they were pushed back by the Confederates. In only a few hours, about 4,000 Union soldiers were
slaughtered in the crater. Great idea but poor leadership.
The Siege of Petersburg was partly a testament to the change in tactics required by rapidly-improving
weapons, and the battlefield offered a glimpse into the trench-warfare strategy that would become
prevalent 50 years later during World War I in Europe. The siege was also a testament to
the unyielding fortitude exhibited by soldiers on both sides of the line.
Above left: Here's the 17,000-pound Union mortar called "The Dictator," the largest weapon used during the war.
Above right: A replica of The Dictator in the same location. It heaved 225-pound balls 2.5 miles into Petersburg during the siege but didn't do very much damage.
Above left: This is the entrance to the tunnel, built by the Union forces at
the beginning of the siege. It extended under the Confederate lines and was packed with explosives, then it was detonated.
Above center: The very lively Ranger Joyce describing the debacle at the Battle of the Crater.
Above right: A view of the Crater today. Robert E. Lee abandoned
Petersburg in the spring of 1865 after 10 months of trench warfare and surrendered at Appomattox a week later, thus ending the Civil War.