THE “SUCCESS” OF the 1903 reunion and reenactment—as well as plans to hold the event on a yearly basis—renewed interest in creating a national park in Petersburg with the Crater as one of the principal sites. Support came not only from the city of Petersburg and the rest of Virginia but also from states north of the Potomac River. The outbreak of war with Spain in 1898 fostered deeper sectional reconciliation and gave Southerners “an opportunity to free themselves of Northern suspicion of their loyalty and to establish southern honor.” Ex-Confederate generals such as Fitzhugh Lee, who had served two years as consul in Havana, and Joseph Wheeler embraced the war and received wide acclaim; both were commissioned as major generals of volunteers. Closer to home, increased contact between Union and Confederate veterans in Petersburg forged personal bonds that carried over into the push to create a national park.1
Early interest in establishing a park in Petersburg formed part of a larger national phenomenon that included the opening of Shiloh, Chickamauga, Chattanooga, Antietam, Gettysburg, and Vicksburg National Military Parks—all in the 1890s. Beginning in the 1880s, increased interaction between veterans on both sides promoted feelings of patriotism, nationalism, and reconciliation as the Civil War soldier became the primary focus of attention, while the themes of slavery, emancipation, and the service of African American soldiers faded.
In contrast to other cities founding military parks, Petersburg struggled to find the right balance between preserving its Confederate past and expanding its commercial economy in the present. Although Confederate veterans might embrace their onetime enemies on old battlefields such as the Crater, they remained cautious about plans to develop these sites originating from outside Virginia. More important, while sectional reconciliation and reunion constituted an important backdrop to the efforts of various actors—Northern and Southern—to preserve Petersburg’s Civil War battlefields, local heritage preservationists remained committed to maintaining a narrative of the battle that reflected a faithfulness to Virginia’s Lost Cause. The future of the Crater site specifically remained uncertain throughout this time and reflected the uneasy mix of heritage preservation and commercial development. As a result, Petersburg did not establish a National Military Park that included the Crater until 1936.
One of the earliest examples of reconciliation involving the Crater took place just a few months after the end of the war. Writing from Alexandria, Virginia, in June 1865, Captain Fred E. Waldron of the Fifty-first New York Volunteers contacted Ella Merrit in South Carolina to inform her that the grave of her relative had been located on the Crater battlefield. Captain Waldron first noticed the grave following the final push to capture Confederate “works in front of Petersburg” at the beginning of April. The soldier had served in the Seventeenth South Carolina and, as indicated by the date on the marker, was killed during the battle. There is some evidence that Waldron was already on friendly terms with the Merrits, though the nature and extent of their relationship is unclear. Perhaps assuming that the Merrit family had insufficient funds for reburial, Waldron indicated that Ella Merrit need “not feel under any obligations to me for it would afford me a great pleasure to do any of your family a favor that is in my power.” Union veterans traveling to the site of the battle made other attempts at reconciliation in the following decades.2
Almost two decades later, in October 1883, a group of Union veterans from a Grand Army of the Republic (GAR) post in Newark, New Jersey, toured the Crater battlefield during a visit to Petersburg. Two years later, about thirty members of the Fifty-first Pennsylvania Regiment traveled to Petersburg. Before touring the battlefields, they were welcomed by Mayor Jarratt and other dignitaries at the depot and escorted to a hotel. The members of the group toured the area around Fort Stedman searching for relics, and while at the Crater they held their annual business meeting, at which new officers were elected, and passed a resolution thanking the City of Petersburg for its “kind reception and hospitality.” Later that evening the veterans were welcomed at the residence of William Mahone for a glass of champagne and an “hour’s conversation in the most pleasant way, discussing the Crater fight.”3
The Crater was a popular site for reunions of Confederates as well as Union veterans. Increased interaction between former enemies encouraged the preservation of the site. The Fifty-seventh Massachusetts Regiment traveled to Petersburg in 1887. William Mahone stands at the center of the first row (with white beard). (Virginia Historical Society, Richmond)
During the first week of May 1887, a larger group of veterans, from the Fifty-seventh and Fifty-ninth Massachusetts regiments, traveled to Petersburg. Like their predecessors from Pennsylvania, the veterans toured Fort Stedman and the Crater, where they listened to speeches by one of the regiment’s officers and by William Mahone. Lieutenant C. H. Pinkham’s address at Fort Stedman recalled the unit’s role in the battle and encouraged his listeners to “remember the brave lives that were sacrificed on that early March morning.” In his address at the Crater, Mahone downplayed the fighting prowess of his men and the horrific scenes witnessed; instead he emphasized his concern at the time that the Union attack was likely to succeed, “for we could not have got away.” “We could not have got off a piece of artillery,” Mahone continued, “and the infantry could only have scampered back. I reckoned we were gone up.” Later that afternoon, the veterans returned to their hotel for a meeting to elect officers. The trip ended with a visit to Mahone’s residence, where they were “hospitably entertained.” In this conciliatory spirit, Mahone’s speech, like others, tended to minimize the Northern defeat for the purpose of strengthening ties with his guests around shared values—and neither side risked mentioning the presence of USCTs.4
Early visits by Union veterans led to the first concerted effort to purchase the site for preservation. In early March 1896 the New York Times reported that a syndicate of GAR units was interested in purchasing the site for the construction of a soldiers’ home and to ensure that the battlefield would be open to future commemorative ceremonies. Those involved ultimately hoped to turn the Crater into a “beautiful National park” and thus bring into “prominence one of the finest sites in Virginia.” It is unknown why these plans never materialized; however, it should be remembered that the 1903 reenactment had been orchestrated specifically to highlight the bravery of Virginians at a time during the war when decisive victories were rare. It is likely that local officials and the veterans themselves were skeptical about the idea of a sacred piece of Southern land being placed under the auspices of a predominantly Northern organization. Ultimately, the resistance to such an idea points to the limits of reunion and reconciliation.5
Reunions between former enemies continued into the first decade of the twentieth century. In 1907 a large contingent of Pennsylvanians representing the Forty-eighth Pennsylvania, including the governor, traveled to Petersburg, where they were greeted by Virginia’s governor, Claude A. Swanson, and the A. P. Hill Camp Confederate Veterans. The veterans traveled together on the city’s new electric streetcars to the Crater, where they unveiled a new monument to the men who constructed the mineshaft and listened to addresses by the two governors. The address by William J. Wells, who had served with the unit, concentrated on common values, shared history, and the conviction that the men on both sides did what they “believed to be right.” Wells echoed the new feelings of nationalism, noting, “We who fought here are enabled without the loss of manly dignity, to grasp each other’s hand in national pride, and to recall the events of 1861–65, in which we took so conspicuous a part, only to laud each the deeds of the other.”6
Two years later, veterans from the Third Division of the Ninth Corps made their way to Petersburg to dedicate a monument. In a spirit of friendship, the A. P. Hill Camp and the wife of William Mahone assisted with the unveiling of the monument. The invocation included a plea that “all feelings of sectional strife be entirely forgotten and blotted out.” By dedicating monuments on the Crater battlefield and other places around Petersburg, Northern veterans identified with the need to set aside land to be protected as a national park. The emphasis in both sides’ speeches on the bravery of the common soldier allowed the veterans to concentrate on shared values rather than on the divisive topic of emancipation and the lingering bitterness among Confederate veterans concerning the presence of black soldiers. The content of these speeches also worked to unite the veterans in the shared goal of saving battlefields regardless of their location.7
Public awareness was growing that major Civil War sites were disappearing and that attention to preservation would highlight the importance of the Crater. One visitor to the battlefield reported that “the only thing remaining to-day of the massive lines of earthworks which encircled Petersburg and extended for more than twenty miles, is the ‘crater,’ which is an object of great interest to visitors on account of the novel part it played in the war of the rebellion.” The deterioration in and around the Crater battlefield was apparent to another visitor in 1916. “The land companies and farmers have already demolished a number of old forts and war landmarks,” commented John S. Wood of Norfolk, Virginia, “and in a few years the crater itself, in which so many thousands of lives were lost, will be leveled off in all probability.” Wood took advantage of sectional reconciliation to draw attention to the sacrifice made by both sides at the Crater. “In the crater are growing pine trees and elms enriched by the blood of 5,000 soldiers of both sides. The crater is still a deep hollow, a sacred valley of death.”8
The push in the Old Dominion to set aside land in Petersburg and other parts of Virginia lagged behind such activity in other states. Battlefields were seen as sites where visitors could exercise their imaginations, “bring back the contending armies; the roar of cannon; the rattle of musketry; the smoke-pall; the charges of armed men; the shouts of victory, and the stern silence of defeat.” Writing for the Metropolitan magazine, John D. Wells worried that Virginia’s battlefields “may alter greatly,” to the point where the imagination would be unable to conjure up the “conditions on the day of the struggle.” By the time of the publication of this article in 1907, steps had already been taken on both the local and state level to guarantee that sections of Virginia’s landscape would remain unharmed, including the placement of monuments and other markers; however, without oversight by the state and/or the federal government, Petersburg’s battlefields remained open to development and ruin.9
While the rhetoric behind the preservation of the Crater and other Petersburg battlefields highlighted themes of national reunion and the Confederacy’s Lost Cause, concerns regarding the city’s economic difficulties complicated the situation. Beginning in 1900, census figures reflect a decline in population, which continued into the 1930s. There are a number of reasons for this, including the obstruction of the Appomattox River into Petersburg, which hindered trade, and the closing of the city’s cotton and tobacco factories—though the tobacco factories did return beginning in the 1950s. In addition, the city experienced the gradual disappearance of its commission merchants as their merchandising methods became obsolete.10
Captain Carter R. Bishop of the A. P. Hill Camp Confederate Veterans and cashier of the Appomattox Trust Company understood the economic benefits battlefield preservation would yield for the Petersburg area. In 1907 Bishop published a pamphlet for the Petersburg City Council that highlighted the possibilities of promoting local tourism as a way to improve the economy. With the success of the 1903 reenactment fresh in mind, Bishop sought to attract tourists from all over the country by citing the heroic acts of the veterans on both sides. Petersburg was a place where “Grant met Lincoln for the last time” as well as where “Davis and Lee held a council of war.” More specifically, Bishop hoped to attract federal funds for the construction of a new military base. In doing so, he connected the practical benefits of locating the base in Petersburg with the necessity of preserving the area’s battlefields: “If the military students of Europe think it worth while to come here to collect material for the text-books, is it not true wisdom on the part of the country to hand down intact to her soldiers . . . the most impressive volume on the Art of War?” Although Bishop’s work eventually paid off with the completion of Fort Lee in 1917, the question of how to preserve the battlefields and under whose authority remained.11
Fort Lee was located in close proximity to the Crater and other significant sites from the siege. Its completion highlights the problem that Petersburg faced in the early twentieth century as it struggled to balance ways to improve the local economy and preserve important historical sites. Veterans’ reunions and reenactments stamped the Crater landscape with profound meaning for significant cross sections of the local population, the rest of Virginia, and beyond, but it was still in doubt whether the site would succumb to the pressures of a struggling economy.12
Between 1898 and 1906, a series of bills in the House of Representatives and proposals in Virginia state government to create a park failed to generate sufficient support. Multiple proposals to create commissions to survey land and generate plans, ranging from the building of a memorial road from Gettysburg to Petersburg to a memorial road planned for Petersburg, came and went. In 1907 residents of Petersburg continued to push national and state legislators to introduce resolutions for the creation of a park. Newspapers reminded their readers that although a park would benefit the entire country, local residents needed “to take the initiative in such an undertaking and it is clearly in their interest and their duty to do so.” In contributing to the call for a national park, Virginian congressman Walter A. Watson concluded that “the site of the explosion is still the most interesting spot . . . made famous by the War between the States, and the Crater is annually visited by thousands of tourists from all parts of the country”:
Three states of the North, Maine, Pennsylvania and Massachusetts, have erected monuments already to their dead on the battlefields around Petersburg, and other States would very gladly do so but for the obstacles they encounter in having to buy sites from the owners of private property. If the government purchased sufficient ground near Petersburg, and dedicated it to the use of the veterans of both armies as a national park, this difficulty would be overcome, and monuments to the memory of soldiers of the various commands, North and South, would spring up as if by magic. The value of these to the present generation, to posterity and to the truth of history would be more than commensurate with the cost to the government, to say nothing of the encouragement to patriotism of the inspiring example of a government that gratefully testifies to the memory of the men who died in its behalf. A people who forget their dead deserve themselves to be forgotten.
Watson’s supporters understood that the purchase of various battlefield sites would further sectional reconciliation and would allow for the continued dedication of monuments, which would work toward satisfying future generations’ interest in the Civil War.13
In April 1907, Charles Hall Davis, the well-known Petersburg lawyer and chairman of the Chamber of Commerce Battlefield Park Committee, proposed a reenactment of the battle of the Crater with the support of the A. P. Hill Camp. With the success of the 1903 reenactment still fresh in mind, Davis hoped to galvanize public support and finally establish a battlefield park by highlighting both the benefits to Petersburg’s economy and heritage preservation. The Daily Index-Appeal thought it an opportune moment, since “the eyes of the whole country” would be directed toward Virginia for the scheduled Jamestown Exposition. The Petersburg City Council was asked to appropriate $5,000 for the event, but owing to legal restrictions was unable to do so. Though disappointed, Davis suggested that the Crater farm—still owned by the Griffith family—might be purchased as a first step in the creation of a national battlefield park. The failure to gain the support of the city council had not stopped the plans for the 1903 reenactment. However, the goal of staging a much more elaborate event proved to be too difficult, and on May 19, 1907, readers of Petersburg’s newspapers learned that the “sham battle at the Crater” had been cancelled.14
Despite the failure to stage the reenactment, Northerners continued to express interest in helping the residents of Petersburg with their plans to establish a park. Proposals for the park attracted the attention of James Anderson of Springfield, Massachusetts, a Union veteran who had fought at Petersburg. Known as “Colonel Jim,” he was an honorary member of the A. P. Hill Camp, and every year since 1896 had traveled to Virginia to observe R. E. Lee’s birthday with Confederate veterans. Although his father had sympathized with the South, Anderson had run away at the age of fifteen to enlist as a private in the Thirty-first Maine Infantry, which served in General Robert Potter’s division. In the local papers Anderson proposed that the A. P. Hill Camp send a delegation to a Northern GAR camp to enlist its support. In late 1907 Senator Nathan B. Scott of West Virginia, who had served in the Eighty-eighth Regiment Ohio Volunteer Infantry, introduced a joint resolution that called for an examination of the Petersburg battlefields to determine the advisability of establishing a park; his effort proved to be no more successful than previous endeavors. Virginia congressman Frank R. Lassiter continued the work by proposing a resolution to survey the battlefields around Petersburg. This resolution eventually ended up in the hands of the War Department, where General William W. Wotherspoon, assistant chief of staff, agreed to assign his department the task of conducting the Petersburg battlefield surveys.15
At the same time Lassiter was advocating for the necessary surveys of land, in 1909 a plan to construct a “Gettysburg to Petersburg Memorial Road” was proposed by Charles H. Davis. Davis’s plan was not without critics. Lassiter informed him that the Committee on Military Affairs was skeptical, and that such a plan would be more difficult to pass than legislation for a park. The plan won the support of New York native Colonel Archibald Gracie, who was known to have some influence in Washington’s diplomatic and legislative circles and whose father, Brigadier General Archibald Gracie Jr., had been killed at Petersburg in December 1864. Gracie pushed to create an association to steer the proposal through the necessary channels and worked tirelessly transmitting petitions for a park to veterans’ organizations and others. His efforts and political connections were not enough, however, and yet another plan died.
Local organizations, newspapers, and the City of Petersburg continued to push for the park. It is difficult to explain the barriers that individuals and organizations on the local and national level faced in creating a national park. The lack of any strict boundary between preserved earthworks and a growing area of commercial development around Petersburg in the decades since the war no doubt made it difficult to envision a large area of land set aside for the general public. Battlefield parks at Gettysburg, Shiloh, and Chickamauga were either isolated from commercial development or situated in a way that made them easier to survey and organize. The nature of the fighting around Petersburg may also have delayed recognition of the need to involve the federal government in preservation. The ten-month siege of Petersburg was defined by the day-to-day grind of life in earthworks rather than by the elaborate movements of troops or sophisticated flanking maneuvers that could be followed by visitors at other sites. Finally, although the Crater was the most popular tourist destination in the Petersburg area, until 1918 it was open to visitors only because the Griffith family saw economic benefits in maintaining the battlefield.
Even without much success on the legislative front, the continued interaction between Union and Confederate veterans and the interest of the general public highlighted the importance of government oversight. In the days following the dedication of a monument at the Crater by the Commonwealth of Massachusetts in November 1911, local newspapers were quick to acknowledge the close connection and support from the North. “As each monument is placed the interest of the state erecting it becomes permanent,” asserted the editor of the Petersburg Daily Index-Appeal, “and the representatives of these states will undoubtedly favor the entire tract of land being acquired by the government for park purposes.” And in the end this would guarantee “national supervision and caretaking.” The A. P. Hill Camp worked to publicize visits by Northern veterans to focus national attention on the battlefields of Petersburg. An elaborate banquet for the veterans of Massachusetts, along with the governor, provided an opportunity to toast their mutual interest in preserving what had become sacred ground for the entire nation.16
The economic development of Petersburg at the turn of the twentieth century spurred interest in bringing the Crater site under public control. (Petersburg National Battlefield)
Not until 1923 was there to be another concerted effort to establish a national park, this time under the leadership of Carter R. Bishop. Bishop worked closely with Congressman Patrick H. Drewry and other notable public figures, such as James Anderson of Massachusetts, who convinced the Speaker of the House of Representatives to introduce legislation in Congress. The bill once again went through the War Department and then to the Committee of Military Affairs for review, though the secretary of war was not a supporter of adding additional battlefield parks. Bishop quickly obtained the support of influential Northern politicians such as the governor of Pennsylvania and Senator James W. Wadsworth. Congressman Drewry’s bill, which was submitted on April 29, 1924, was finally passed on February 11, 1925. The bill provided for the creation of a commission appointed by the secretary of war to study the feasibility of organizing the battlefield sites for the purposes of tourism and military study. The day that so many had waited for finally arrived on July 3, 1926, when President Calvin Coolidge signed the bill authorizing the establishment of the Petersburg National Military Park. The United Daughters of the Confederacy, the Sons of Confederate Veterans, individual veterans, and Northern states were singled out for praise by the New York Times: “The effort to establish a battlefield park here has a history marked by enduring perseverance.”17
The Petersburg Battlefield Park Association was created to raise money to acquire land and then transfer it to the federal government. Residents of Petersburg responded to the financial needs of the park by raising funds for surveying and for descriptive plates to guide visitors. One such meeting held in October 1926 raised over $1,400; the principal speaker was Douglas S. Freeman, whose growing scholarly reputation placed him at the forefront of Civil War historians. Freeman had had a close connection with Petersburg and specifically with the Crater since his attendance at the 1903 reenactment with his father, Walker H. Freeman, who had served in the Thirty-fourth Virginia. The seventeen-year-old Freeman was moved by the events of the day; he had been raised on his father’s stories about the war and had absorbed the tenets of the Lost Cause. On this day, however, Freeman was inspired to action as the result of what he saw. “If someone doesn’t write the story of these men,” Freeman wrote in his diary, “it will be lost forever.” Rather than see that story lost to posterity, he resolved to himself, “I’m going to do it.” The 1903 reenactment of the Crater propelled Douglas Southall Freeman down the road toward completing two major historical projects, one a four-volume Pulitzer Prize–winning biography of Lee, and the other a three-volume study of Lee’s lieutenants.18
Cadets took part in the dedication of the Petersburg National Military Park on June 20, 1932. The Crater site would not be included in the park for another five years. (Petersburg Museums)
The perseverance of park supporters was finally rewarded on the morning of June 20, 1932, as formal dedication ceremonies for the Petersburg National Military Park took place at Battery Five. Several thousand attended, and a full holiday was declared for Petersburg’s summer school sessions so that students could attend the ceremony and afternoon pageant. Though the ceremony included local dignitaries and representatives from Confederate veterans groups, the inclusion of representatives from the North reminded everyone that creation of the military park was a product of national cooperation. Virginia congressman Patrick H. Drewry pointed out that the park was the result not only of the efforts of the people of Petersburg, Virginians, and Southerners, but that “no greater help was rendered in the matter than by the citizens of the State of Massachusetts, for whose help we here express our gratitude.” The dedicatory address by the assistant secretary of war, Frederick H. Payne of Massachusetts, reflected the feelings of shared accomplishment and anticipated the continued value of a national park for all Americans: “The opportunity has been provided for Americans of all time to draw inspiration from the valor, the patriotism, the devotion and the loyalty of the men who wore the Blue and of those who wore the Gray.”19
Though the creation of the national park was a milestone, it would not include the Crater until 1936. Throughout the first half of the 1920s, attendance at the Crater remained steady. “There are signs everywhere urging all to visit that tragic site,” recalled one visitor. “Today the crater road is well laid, and one Sunday this Summer as many as eighty-two visitors rode over it after 3 o’clock in the afternoon.” The failure to include the most popular Civil War battlefield in Petersburg in the new park reflected the continued tension between heritage preservation and commercial development.20
In 1918 the Crater site passed from the Griffith family, and in 1925 it was acquired by the Crater Battlefield Association, Inc., a commercial enterprise that erected a clubhouse near the crater and an eighteen-hole golf course. The association continued to maintain the small building housing a museum, allowing visitors to tour what remained of the mine for a small fee. It is difficult to imagine golfers not being constantly reminded that their course was at one point a terrible bloodletting or that the largest sand trap once contained the mangled bodies of young men. “The golf links extend up to the site of the old fort,” reported one visitor, and on an adjacent ridge “a visitor to the battlefield may observe the storms and changes of more than sixty years.”21
Owners of the golf course attempted to assuage the concerns of preservationists by maintaining a path to what remained of the actual crater. The association provided visitors with a short brochure describing the battle written by its president, Arthur W. James. His account highlighted themes that had become standard in histories of the battle, including the role Mahone and his Virginia brigade played in saving Lee’s army; not surprisingly, the presence of African American soldiers was minimized. The last few paragraphs were reserved to promote relations between the corporation and the surrounding community, which may have been strained, considering the popular belief that the Crater should have been incorporated into the National Park. James described his “corporation as composed of Virginia people interested in its preservation and restoration. . . . As a labor of love and at large personal expense, the members of the corporation cleared the battlefield opened the Pleasants galleries, finding the greater part intact, built a road to the site, and opened the sacred spot to visitors.” The president hoped to convince visitors that the golf course was an appropriate addition to the battlefield and the result of cooperation with local, state, and national organizations. James closed with what he probably assumed to be a moving tribute to those who had made the ultimate sacrifice on July 30, 1864: “The Crater, covered by giant pines and cedars, immortalizing the soldiers with whose bodies they have been enriched, perfumed with honeysuckle now spread over the reddened trenches, marked by numerous monuments placed by comrades and descendents, surrounded by green fairways and tees bearing the name of its heroes, is a beautiful shrine to the boys of the Blue and Gray who there made the supreme sacrifice.”22
It is difficult to imagine that James’s defense of his company’s good intentions persuaded interested parties that their preservation worries were misplaced. In the end, the failure to incorporate the Crater site into the new park suggests the influence that commercial interests held at a time when Petersburg’s economy continued to suffer. Neither the efforts of prominent local and national public officials nor those of the veterans themselves were enough to transfer ownership from private to public hands.23
Only after the association and the Crater Golf Club closed was the federal government able to purchase the site in 1936. Most of the summer and fall of 1937 was spent removing golf traps and greens; trees and shrubs were planted to shield the field from modern structures along nearby highways. A restoration of the entrance to the mineshaft was also started in 1937. Workers uncovered shell fragments, nails, and other articles as the work progressed. Excavations indicated that the starting point of the tunnel corresponded with the location of the stone monument placed there by the veterans of the Forty-eighth Pennsylvania in 1907. In November 1937, the remains of two Union soldiers were found.24
In addition to physical improvements to the landscape, park officials erected markers outlining the battle. The content of these markers reflected an interpretation that by the turn of the century had become standard. The overall mission of the Petersburg National Military Park was to “commemorate the valor and devotion of the American soldiers of the Revolution and the War Between the States.” Visitors were expected to interpret the battlefield as a site “on which the manhood of the North and of the South, each contending for high ideals, engaged in the final decisive struggles of the war of 1861–1865.” Such an interpretation left no room to acknowledge the battle as a moment for African American soldiers to demonstrate their willingness to sacrifice their lives for freedom because they played no role in the development of the public memory of the battle. There was no mention of the rage exhibited by Confederates at having to fight black soldiers or of the well-documented incidents involving their execution after they surrendered. George Bernard’s War Talks of Confederate Veterans was used as a reference to describe the Confederate counterattack. As a result, Mahone’s Virginia brigade was singled out as the most important component leading to Confederate success: one marker, titled “Mahone’s Charge,” described the event as including “800 men of Weisiger’s Brigade” and “composed mainly of Petersburg men.”25
The Park Service wasted no time using the Crater to attract people to the park. On April 30, 1937, a reenactment was held for an estimated 50,000 spectators. An immense amount of planning and publicity work was required, and during the month preceding the reenactment, park employees devoted most of their time to the affair. Preparations included the construction of a stand, an enclosure for invited guests, six latrines, two enclosures for the press, two structures to represent bombproofs, temporary imitation earthworks, and battery positions. Workers went to great lengths to create a realistic visual scene for the audience; monuments on the fields were camouflaged, and arrangements were made to prohibit airplanes from flying over the area during the day.26
The Richmond Times-Dispatch reported to its readers that they could “see reproduced the greatest fiasco in modern warfare.” Once again the attention would be on Mahone’s brigade; those in attendance would see how Mahone’s men “came to reinforce the Crater’s defenders and how they dashed into the Crater themselves, screaming the Rebel yell, goaded to insane fury by the faces of a Negro division Burnside had thrown into the fight.” Six thousand seats for spectators were sold for 50¢, though general admission and parking came with no charge.27
An estimated 50,000 spectators attended the 1937 Crater reenactment, which included the detonation of a thirty-eight-pound charge. (Richmond Times-Dispatch, May 1, 1937)
Nearly 3,000 troops, including 650 Virginia Military Institute cadets and 1,200 Marines, played the roles of the combatants in the reenactment that took place on April 30, 1937. (Richmond Times-Dispatch, May 1, 1937)
A total of nearly 3,000 troops, including 650 Virginia Military Institute cadets and 1,200 Marines, played the roles of the combatants. Not surprisingly, no effort was made to represent the role African Americans played in the battle. Rehearsals took place on April 30 to ensure accuracy; a thirty-eight-pound charge was exploded in imitation of the mine explosion that had signaled the start of the battle. For the Marines, the “sham battle” was an opportunity to finally play the role of the victors: “They obligingly have met defeat in their role of Union troops in several previous Virginia reenactments of battles of the ’60’s.” Preparations also benefited from programs in Franklin Roosevelt’s New Deal. Replicas of the flags carried into battle were made by women in the Works Progress Administration, many of whom were descendants of participants in the battle, and camps for the reenactors were constructed by the Civilian Conservation Corps.28
Ticket holders received a program reproducing John Elder’s famous painting of the Crater and providing a short history of the battle. Celebrations commenced with an opening address by Congressman Drewry, who introduced several of the prominent guests, including Virginia’s governor George C. Perry. Douglas S. Freeman provided historical background to the events of July 30, 1864, and with the help of an amplifying system pointed out landmarks on the battlefield. The reenactment was divided into two stages. The first, including a dialogue authored by Freeman, recreated the conversation among Union commanders in the final hours before the attack. Freeman’s narrative foreshadows the failed attack by emphasizing the disappointment of Union commanders upon learning that General Ferrero’s division of black soldiers would not be taking the lead in the assault. Ferrero comments, “They’re trained for it, thoroughly; they know every move.” The other generals express grave doubt that such a last-minute change can succeed. The first stage concluded with the timed explosion and Union attack, ending in a “confused mass of men in the crater.” Around 3:00 p.m. the second phase kicked off with the “arrival of Weisiger’s Brigade of Mahone’s Confederate Division” and ended with the surrender of Union troops.29
Only four men from Mahone’s brigade were in attendance; one was ninety-three-year-old Francis M. Ridout of Petersburg. Invitations to Union veterans who took part in the battle went out, but none attended owing to age. Park officials judged the reenactment a success and were especially pleased that little damage had been done to the grounds. Franklin W. Smith, president of the Petersburg Battlefield Park Association, believed “it was one of the greatest things ever held in Petersburg.” Two days later, a Petersburg paper reported that one army officer still “has not gotten over his thrill of witnessing the reenactment.” M. Clifford Harrison waxed poetic in his brief reference to the reenactment written a few years later. Harrison recalled “a spontaneous Rebel yell” from the crowd as Weisiger’s men approached the point of their famous charge: “We couldn’t have repressed our Southern emotions at that moment if we had wanted to. Our yell was the voice of the South reverberating down three-quarters of a century.”30
The April 30, 1937, Crater reenactment marked the inclusion of the battlefield within the boundaries of the new military park. John Elder’s famous painting of Mahone’s charge graced the cover of the program. (Author’s collection)
The day before the reenactment, an editorial appeared in the Richmond Times-Dispatch expressing concern over the upcoming event. The writer believed that it would be unfortunate if the National Park Service’s goal were to “impress onlookers with the feeling that war is glamorous or in any sense an alluring spectacle. We hope the lesson to be learned from it,” continued the writer, “will be that we of this generation must avoid such an experience.” While the collective memory of the Crater on display in the 1937 reenactment was not “glamorous,” it was a wholly celebratory remembrance of the bravery of William Mahone and his Virginia brigade. The success of Jim Crow in Virginia was clearly discerned in the absence of any serious attention to the presence of black soldiers, and it is likely the case that very few, if any, local African Americans attended. The black community’s inability to contribute to local Civil War memory was now compounded by the National Park Service’s inheritance of a narrative that it could exploit to increase revenue by attracting tourists from around the country.31
