Pictures of the Siege of Petersburg

Hey, Everyone!

I found these pictures that all relate to the Siege of Petersburg, and I thought you might enjoy them:)

 

Petersburg in 1865

 

 

A very simplified map of Petersburg.

 You can see the five railroads (in black) that lead to the city, one of which crosses over the Appomattox River.

That is the rail left uncaptured by the Union, and also the Confederates' escape route.

 

 

Union Soldier from the Indiana Cavalry in June, 1864, outside of Petersburg.(Long siege, right?)

Union Soldiers resting in trenches outside of Petersburg in December, 1864.

 

 

A dead confederate soldier in the trenches outside of Petersburg on April 3rd, 1865

 

 

 

I also have another photo of a dead confedrate, but I didn't post it because it is fairly graphic.

Anyway, here is the link for those who still want to see it:Link

 

 

http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Dead_soldier_(American_Civil_War_-_Siege_of_Petersburg,_April_1_1865).jpg

 

I think you can tell that there aren't any pictures of the Confederates in Petersburg, (other than the deceased ones after the battle.) I believe this is because the well-supplied Union were the only ones with the camera!

I can't think of any other reason why I couldn't find any pics of the Rebels.

April 4th, 1865 [noon]

“There, Matt! Amelia Court House at long last!” George Pennon’s face glowed with excitement as they were ordered to halt.

“And see the train? The cars are all neatly lined up behind. Loaded with provisions, I imagine,”Matthew remarked.

“Mmmm… I can smell the biscuits and gravy already!”

“And bacon, George, think of it!”

Sandler paced in place impatiently.

“When are we going to dig in?”

“We have to wait for the order, Matt,” Pennon said, though impatient as well.

George looked ahead to where General Lee was talking with another general. He watched like a cat ready to spring at the food in the cars as the general walked toward the men.

“We will proceed in an organized fashion to distribute the rations. NO ONE will go to the train unless instructed,” The general commanded.

George and Matthew groaned with a few others in the column.

“Why can’t we just get at it, George? We are starved!

“I guess they don’t want all the men to rip the crates apart like famished wolves.”

“That’s what we are…” Matthew muttered.

“Now… THESE men will retrieve the crates,” The general ordered, gesturing toward a group of a couple dozen men.

“Matt, that’s us! He ordered us!”

Matt looked up expectantly.

“March!” The general commanded.

Matthew and George proceeded with the other men. Upon looking around, all the men seemed as eager to get to the food as they were.

Under the general’s instructions, they yanked open the train car doors. The crates inside were stacked floor to ceiling. George, Matt, and the other men eagerly lifted the boxes down. The crates thudded noisily.

“Sure sounds full to me!” George said, smiling from ear to ear. The men around him laughed heartily.

Matthew was all smiles as he hurriedly pried open the lid of the crate. With a final effort, and a satisfying creak, the lid snapped open. When he looked in, his smile disappeared

“George, you aren’t going to believe this.”

Pennon hurried over, worried. He peered into the crate, and his face filled with horror.

All around them they heard more crates being opened and the disbelieving cries of:

“This isn’t food! Why, this is ammunition!”

“Harnesses!”

“Ammunition carts!”

George Pennon closed his eyes.

“I do not believe this is happening.”

April 4th, 1865 [morning]

"Did you hear what everyone is saying, Matt?"

"Yes, we destroyed the bridge when the last man crossed. The union army can't follow us!"

"Now all we have to do is push forward to the Court House. Eyes and hearts forward."

"We'll depend on Old Lee to pull us out."

"Too bad for those who deserted, they'll never see the day when the Confederates conquered!"

Matt nodded his head and began to whistle Dixie. Men joined, whistling the tune all down the column, encouraging each other to have hope.

April 3rd, 1865 [early evening]

As the day progressed spirits weren’t as high. George Pennon heard grumblings and oaths muttered under soldier's breaths. Everyone was hungry, and only the lucky ones had shoes and suitable clothes.

There was no order in the column either. Soldiers marched at their own pace.

Pennon groaned with every step. His feet had become excruciatingly sore after only one day of marching. Because everyone had been so many months besieged in Petersburg, not marching, their feet had become tender.

"Auugh!"George cried out when he stubbed his unfortunate foot on a small stone. His friend, Matt came up, and he turned to him. “How are you holding up, George?"

"I've never been this miserable in my life."

"I hear that."

George noticed a man ahead of them leave the ranks and sit down on the grass beside the road to eat his rations.

"Matt, you see that man up ahead?"

"I see him. Watch, he'll get caught."

They trudged onward, but no officer came to reprimand the man. Pennon and Sandler passed the worn, middle aged confederate, and no one seemed to bother with him.

 

" A little rest seems mighty good right now, Matt." Pennon said slowly

 

"So it does." Matt paused. "Why not, George? Let's eat!"

 

Slowly.they made their way to the edge of the column, broke away and sat down. They took out their meager ration of vittles and began to devour them. Neither spoke a word, it seemed too tiring. They scanned the army, realizing just how ragged they looked. uniforms were muddy and torn. There we even stolen union overcoats speckled throughout. Men stumbled wearily. They noticed a couple soldiers slink into the woods.

"Deserters." George muttered.

"I guess they realize this war is just about over, and don't want to give their lives for a lost cause."

 "Maybe, but they're deserters all the same."

 

Pennon rose, and Sandler did the same.

"I wonder if the rest of us will come to the same conclusion, though, when the march gets harder, and the hunger more painful?" George said softly as he and Mattew joined the ranks again.

The men were losing hope. Everything depended on provisions. Food gave strength to men. Food gave courage. Food gave hope. Without victuals ,they might as well have surrendered at Petersburg.

 

They must get to Amelia Court House.

April 3rd, 1865 [afternoon]

George Pennon’s ears were filled with the delightful sound of happy chatter and hearty laughter. The Confederates were all in an optimistic mood because the prospect of the first real meal in months was before them

“Only a day more, Matt, and we’ll be feasting on, bacon, coffee, biscuits, sugar, and tea. And who knows what other heavenly things!”Pennon licked his lips in anticipation.

“Just think, for weeks there’s been a bounty only forty miles away!”

“”Well, it’s a miracle we even made it out of there alive, Matt. It isn’t as if we could have waltzed out of there any time we wanted, now could we? Lee had to wait for the right time, when the Yankees least expected it. For my part, I won’t assume to criticize the General.”

“No. Neither will I George. Grant couldn’t hold a candle to our Lee in anything. Why, even Grant’s dress is sloppy! I’ve heard people say his hair is rarely combed, he wears the same uniform for weeks, and he barely knows how to button his coat!”

“-While Lee is the picture of a gentleman, proper and dignified. Sandler, did you know that Grant and Lee are acquaintances? They worked side by side in the Mexican war.” Pennon chuckled. “And once, Lee saw Grant looking disheveled as ever, and scolded him about it!”

“Ha! I wonder if Grant would admit to THAT tale! George, did you ever hear the story about General Grant’s advanced musical talent?”

“Can’t say that I have,”

“Someone told me they heard Grant say he only knows two tunes. One is Dixie… and the other…ISN’T!”

As they continued their hopeful march, they continued to tell favorite Confederate jokes and retell many stories. But deep inside, Pennon knew that the outcome of the war depended on their getting to Amelia Court House…soon.

April 3rd, 1865 [dawn]

George Pennon glanced over his shoulder at the now completely empty city of Petersburg. If the rebel army wasn’t just outside, slowly crossing the Appomattox, no one would have ever believed so many people were there just yesterday.

“Here we are, Sandler.” He remarked as they stood in their position, waiting for their turn to step onto the bridge. “We ached and prayed for the order to head to the Carolinas, and now we are stuck waiting. “

“I never imagined it would take all night to get the army across. It's fully dawn, and now, look! We are in the direct line of fire of the Yanks!” Matthew sputtered, gesturing toward the ominous Union army.

“I wonder what’s keeping them from attacking. One cannon barrage would kill hundreds of us instantly.”

They moved forward a few steps with the rest of their corps.

George continued. “It doesn’t make any strategic sense. Unless he plans to capture us instead of kill us, that is.”

“I think you are right, George. Either that or he has human sympathy, pure and simple.”

“Very doubtful.” Pennon muttered as their corps finally made it to the bridge.

 

 

Little did they know that General Ulysses Grant and his army had plans to cut around in front and, when there was no river behind them for escape, they would block and surround the Confederates. Then he would tighten the noose until there wasn’t any life left.

April 2nd, 1865 [evening]

Every man was anxious as the Rebels hurried to the innermost parts of the city. They were visibly rattled, almost confused as they all moved to their commanded positions.

Pennon met Sandler, who was at his post.

“It would appear the surprise attack stirred the General into action.”

“Yes, but our orders aren’t very optimistic ones: ‘hold your position in the city until the last man, or nightfall, whichever comes first.’” Matthew shook his head. “Let’s just pray the Yankees don’t get wind that General Robert E. Lee is here. If they do they’ll be attacking like hounds from hell. Yes sir, they will.”

“Well, look on the bright side, Matt. If it pleases the Lord, we’ll be across the Appomattox by morning’”

“It would have to be a miracle NOT to be in glory tonight.”

George Pennon moved on to his post. As he stood there, waiting for the night to simply be over without excitement. He couldn’t imagine sleeping tonight, even if he wasn’t on duty. The city was unnervingly quiet. He peered out, straining to notice any movement in the Union camps. Pennon turned and shuffled nervously as he settled for a long night of anticipation.

 

No shot was fired that night. The union scouts spotted an artillery battery outside Lee’s head quarters, and assumed it was part of a huge unseen force. They hesitate to attack, giving the Confederates their much hoped-for evening of peace.