Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2019 with funding from Duke University Libraries https://archive.org/details/norfolkhistorics01wert Norfolk: Historic Southern Port NORFOLK ■ w HISTORIC SOUTHERN PORT by THOMAS J. WERTENBAKER SECOND EDITION Edited by MARVIN W. SCHLEGEL Durham, North Carolina DUKE UNIVERSITY PRESS © 193 1 - ig® 2 * by the Duke University Press Library of Congress Catalogue Card number 62-10054 Cambridge University Press, London N.W.i, England Printed in the United States of America by Kingsport Press, Inc., Kingsport, Tenn. If we are to understand the history of any city, not only must we trace its origin and its development, but we must explain the causes which brought about its origin, and alfected favorably or adversely its development. The history of Norfolk is much more than a series of anecdotes of interesting events and interesting people; it is an impor¬ tant chapter in the story of the rise of the American nation. Norfolk’s part in the early tobacco trade, in the West India trade, in the Revo¬ lutionary War, in the creation of the Constitution, in the difficulties with England and France during the Napoleonic wars, in the War of 1812, in the era of internal improvements, in the Civil War, and in the World War is too important to be neglected. American investigators have been slow to recognize the fact that na¬ tional history is founded on local history, and so have left local history largely to the antiquarian and the genealogist. There are hundreds of volumes devoted to the history of this city or that county, which are moulding unnoticed on the library shelves, because they are devoted exclusively to unimportant details of local life. Although historians are becoming conscious of their neglect in this matter, the local his¬ tory which shows the relationship of the community with state and national history is still comparatively rare. In this volume the emphasis is placed on the first two centuries of Norfolk’s history. Although the period from 1880 to 1930 has been treated in outline, no attempt has been made to give in detail the political, social, and industrial development. The lack of historical perspective, the difficulty of securing private letters and documents, and the impropriety of writing critically of living persons, make con¬ temporary history exceedingly difficult. So the concluding chapters have been inserted more as a sequel to the main body of the story, than as an integral part of the history itself. The author extends his thanks to Mr. Robert B. Tunstall, who has sponsored the work from the first, and rendered invaluable assistance; to Mr. Louis I. Jaffe and Mr. John B. Jenkins, Jr., who, together with vi Preface Mr. Tunstall, have read the manuscript throughout and aided with helpful criticisms and suggestions; to Mr. John D. Gordan, who made available the scrapbook of Miss Virginia Gordan, together with other source material; to Colonel William Couper, of Lexington, Va., who entrusted to me a set of transcripts of the letters of his great¬ grandfather, William Couper, of Norfolk; to Miss Mary D. Pretlow, who made available all the source material of the Norfolk Public Li¬ brary; and to Miss Josephine Johnson, who contributed interesting data concerning the cultural activities of Norfolk. Thomas J. Wertenbaker Princeton, N. ]. March 24, 1931 Editor’s Note When illness unfortunately interrupted Professor Wertenbaker in the task of revising and expanding the first edition of this work, the editor agreed to try to complete the book as Professor Wertenbaker had intended. The editor has written parts of the last two chapters and has rewritten several pages in the earlier chapters in the light of new information that has appeared in the thirty years since the first edition was published. Except for occasional minor editorial altera¬ tions, the rest of the book remains as Professor Wertenbaker wrote it. Had his health permitted, Professor Wertenbaker would have ex¬ pressed here his appreciation to his daughter-in-law, Mrs. Thomas J. Wertenbaker, Jr., who furnished valuable secretarial assistance while he was working on this edition; to the Virginia State Library, which made available its microfilm of the Virginian-Pilot for use in the Fire¬ stone Library at Princeton; and doubtless to many others, whose names are unknown to the editor. The editor himself is grateful to Sandra Clements, who helped to prepare the manuscript for the press, and to those who read the book and offered useful comments and suggestions, including Rogers Dey Whichard, of the Norfolk Division of the Col¬ lege of William and Mary, Virginia H. Pinkerton, of the Norfolk Pub¬ lic Library, City Attorney Leonard H. Davis, and especially City Man¬ ager Thomas F. Maxwell, who co-operated at every stage of this project. Colonel E. Griffith Dodson made available his remarkable memory of the Norfolk of his youth to clear up some confused points and has also faithfully read the proofs of this edition. These all share in whatever credit this new edition may deserve, but the editor, along with the author, is responsible for whatever faults may be found with it. Marvin W. Schlegel Farmville, Virginia November io, i960 Contents one. Colonial Days and Colonial Ways 3 two. Dozen to the Sea in Ships 27 three. The Maelstrom of Revolution 48 four. The Phoenix of the Elizabeth 74 five. Coercion—Peaceful and Otherwise 95 six. The Town and Its People 116 seven. Strangled Commerce 145 eight. The Fall Line Blockade 166 nine. Pestilence and War 188 ten. The Mailed Fist 207 eleven. The Black Cloud 232 twelve. The New Order 247 thirteen. A Half-Century of Growth 271 fourteen. Mars Moulds a Great City 300 fifteen. Peaceful Expansion 318 sixteen. Depression and Recovery 328 seventeen. The Second World War 344 eighteen. Thinking Big 362 nineteen. Not By Bread Alone 377 Illustrations following page 214 Index 395 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port CHAPTER ONE Colonial Days and Colonial Ways Colonial Virginia was almost entirely a rural province. F rom the days of the Virginia Company, when John Rolfe, celebrated as the husband of Pocahontas, discovered a satisfactory method of curing the native tobacco, the cultivation of that plant absorbed the attention of the people. From Old Point to Henrico, and from Nansemond to the Potomac, the country was dotted with fields green with the fragrant Sweetscented and Orinoco. The planters shipped their crops to Great Britain, where a part was consumed, and the rest distributed over the continent of Europe. In return they received manufactured goods— clothing, household utensils, furniture, guns, farm implements. This traffic would have necessitated one or more ocean ports, had not the many great rivers, deep creeks, and inlets made it possible for the sea¬ going vessels of the day to penetrate to all parts of the settled area. Every important planter had his own wharf, f rom which he shipped his tobacco and received his annual consignment of European goods. “No country is better watered*!’ wrote the Reverend Hugh Jones, in 1722, “for the conveniency of whic h most house s are b uilt nea r some landing place; so that anything may be delivered to a gentleman there from London, Bristol, etc., with [very little] trouble and cost.” 1 There was no need for ports then, until the expansion of the settlements beyond deep water brought into existence the Fall Line towns. This system, so convenient for the planter, was viewed with dis¬ favor by the British government. Early in the seventeenth century. Governor Francis Wyatt was instructed “to draw tradesmen and handi- 1 Hugh Jones, The Present State of Virginia (New York, reprint by Sabine, 1865), p. 34. 4 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port craftmen into towns.” In 1662 the Assembly, at the command of Charles II, passed an act, for the erection of a town at “James City,” where all the tobacco of the three nearest counties was to be brought for storing and export. 2 But the attempt to create a town for which there was no need met with the failure it deserved, and the houses were “not made habitable, but fell down before they were finished.” 3 Nonetheless, Charles persisted. In June, 02 > 8 b, Governor Culpeper announced to the Ass embly that His Majesty h ad commanded him to urge a measure for c reatin g t owns in Vi rginia. 'No other nation has ever begun a colony without them, he added, and no colony has ever thrived until they developed. Therefore, the King “is resolved as soon as storehouses and conveniencies can be provided, t a prohibit ships trading here tn__lnad nr unload but at certain fixed plac e s. — 4 Accord¬ ingly an act -was passed requiring feoffees in each county to purchase fifty acres of land for a town. For Lower Norfolk the site selected was “on Nicholas Wise his land on the Eastern Branch on Elizabeth River at the entrance of the branch.” 5 The price was fixed by the Assembly at ten thousand pounds of tobacco and cask. It was provided that the town be divided into lots of one-half acre each, to be granted to such persons as would build a dwelling or warehouse and pay the nominal sum of one hundred pounds of tobacco. 6 The Lower Norfolk County Court was prompt in carrying out the provisions of this law. On August 18, 1680, it ordered the county sur¬ veyor, John Ferebee, to locate the prescribed fifty acres on October y. 7 The site surveyed by Ferebee was in modem terms approximately the area lying between City Hall Avenue on the north and Water Street on the south, bounded on the west by the Elizabeth River and on the east by the Norfolk and Western Railroad tracks. Land-fills have so altered the boundaries of the area that its original shape is no longer discernible. Still, if one can imagine the Back Creek extending from the river along the west end of City Hall Avenue as far inland as Cumberland Street, and Newton’s Creek stretching north from the Eastern Branch at the east end of Main Street and sending one long 2 W. W. Hening, Virginia Statutes at Large (Philadelphia, 1823), II, 172. 3 Virginia Magazine of History and Biography, II, 387. * Ibid., XVI, 364. 5 Hening, Statutes at Large, II, 472. I Ibid., p. 474. 7 Lower Norfolk County Records, Order Book, cited in Rogers Dey Whichard, The History of Lower Tidewater Virginia (New York: Lewis Historical Publishing Company, 1959, 3 vols.) I, 328. This painstaking work, the most recent study of Norfolk’s history, has furnished the basis for a number of revisions in the new edi¬ tion of this volume. 5 Colonial Days and Colonial Ways arm over the east end of City Hall Avenue to Fenchurch Street, one can gain some conception of this narrow peninsula of woodland and old fields, lying on the northern bank of the Eastern Branch and con¬ nected to the land farther north only by a narrow isthmus. A year after the initial survey Ferebee laid out the streets and di¬ vided the land into fifty-one lots. 8 He ran the Main Street the length of the peninsula in the east-west direction, bending it—just as it still bent in 1960—to conform to the shoreline as it then existed in order to make lots of reasonably equal size on each side of the street. Run¬ ning south from the Main Street was a “street that leadeth down to the waterside” (today Commercial Place), while a “street that leadeth into the woods” (now Church Street) was laid out on the neck of land to the north. The only other street in the original plan was the Back Street, which ran north over present East Street and then turned east on what is now Bermuda Street. In spite of the fact that the act establishing the town was vetoed by the king in 1681, the county court went ahead with its plans. Lieuten¬ ant Colonel Anthony Lawson and Captain William Robinson, ap¬ pointed feoffees by the court, purchased the tract from Nicholas Wise on August 16, 1682, and proceeded to grant lots. At least one of the grantees, a sailor named Peter Smith, fulfilled the necessary provisions by constructing a house upon his land, since he received formal title to three lots on October 17, 1683, and the record states that he was then living on this land. The prospects of the town apparently were not sufficiently inviting to persuade the other grantees to build, as the next recorded grant did not come until August 17, 1687, when William Porten, the county clerk, acquired title to six lots. 9 The town’s growth began in 1691 when the legislature separated Lower Norfolk County into Norfolk and Princess Anne counties and directed that a new courthouse should be erected at Norfolk town. At that time, according to an act of the Assembly, there were “several dwelling houses and warehouses already built” there. Work on the courthouse was begun in the summer of 1691, and the structure was completed by 1694, along with the necessary public stocks and, pre¬ sumably, a prison. Norfolk’s first bridge was built in 1691 by Captain William Knott, the ferryman, across an arm of Newton’s Creek lying on “the street that leadeth into the woods,” by now promoted by the 8 See the map drafted by Whichard, I, 327. 9 Lower Norfolk County Records, Book 4, p. 153; Norfolk County Records, Book 5, p. 35, cited in Whichard, The History of Lower Tidewater Virginia, I, 331. 6 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port advance of civilization to “the street that leadeth out of town” (today the intersection of Church and Charlotte streets) . 10 These improvements caused the infant town to grow rapidly during the 1690’s. A patient search of the early records has revealed the names of more than thirty lot-owners before 1700. Among them were Captain William Knott, a blacksmith named Bartholomew Clarke, Dr. Thomas Tabor, who was a merchant as well as a physician, Malachi Thruston, Fergus Thompson, Samuel Sizemore, John Redwood, George Newton, Francis Simpson, Thomas Walke, William Heslett, Peter Blake, Thomas Butt, Lewis Conner, John and Matthew Godfrey, Samuel Boush, Mary and Thomas Hodges, Israel Voss, Thomas Nash, Edward Moseley, Captain John Dibbs, and Cornelius Tully. By the end of the century the parish was building its first church in the pres¬ ent churchyard, and Captain Samuel Boush had a silver chalice made in London for the communion service (now preserved in the Nor¬ folk Museum) . n As the town continued to increase in population, the rest of the un¬ granted lots were taken up, the last one, a narrow strip on the south side of eastern Main Street, going to Samuel Boush, son of the chalice donor, in 1729. Boush had already taken steps to provide room for future expansion by laying out in lots his land on the west side of what would soon be called Church Street; Norfolk’s first suburban develop¬ ment was opened in April, 1728. 12 In the same year Boush, along with Samuel Smith and Nathaniel Newton, took the first step to provide formal education in the town by becoming school trustees with au¬ thority to build a schoolhouse on the school lot across the street from the church and to hire a schoolmaster. 13 By 1740 a visitor to Norfolk would have seen, as he sailed up the river, a town of perhaps one thousand people. Along the waterfront was a line of low-lying warehouses, behind them a mass of trees, from which emerged here and there a gable-end, or a chimney. Upon land¬ ing he would have noted the peculiar structure of the wharves. “They lay down long pine logs,” William Byrd tells us, “that reach from the shore to the edge of the channel. These are bound fast together by crosspieces notched into them. ... A wharf built thus will stand sev¬ eral years, in spite of the worm, which bites there very much.” 14 Main 10 Ibid., I, 335-337. 11 Ibid., I, 337-340. 12 Ibid., I, 343, 353. 13 Ibid., I, 350. 14 William Rvrd, History of the Dividing Line (Richmond, 1866. All references to this title are from this edition) , pp. 19-20. 7 Colonial Days and Colonial Ways Street our visitor would have found a muddy thoroughfare, lined with shops, residences, taverns, warehouses, and workshops. Here he would have seen a smithy, here a barber shop, here a shoe shop, here a cooperage. The houses were chiefly of brick, 15 were of one, or perhaps two, stories, and had chimneys at each end. The front door opened upon a hallway, flanked on one side by the withdrawing room, and on the other by the dining room. Above were several chambers. 16 The fur¬ niture was meager, but charming in design—a pair of mahogany or walnut dining tables, a bureau with a desk top, a dozen chairs with leather seats, beds, chests, a mirror, a clock. 17 In the rear was the garden, invariably enclosed with palings, while in the earlier days orchards were not uncommon. As in other parts of Virginia, the kitchen occupied a separate building, so that the food had to be brought through the yard to the dining room. 18 Around the dwellings of the well-to-do were often grouped other outbuildings—smokehouse, hen house, and stable. 19 The stranger would have been interested in the new market house, at the north end of what is now Commercial Place. This was a frame structure, thirty feet long and fifteen wide. On either side the roof, which was overset six feet to give shelter to the vendors, was sup¬ ported by four sturdy posts. Here the country people came with their poultry, eggs, butter, and vegetables; here the housewife haggled for a few pounds of beef or a peck or two of turnip-tops. 20 Other points of interest were the old Norfolk county courthouse, on the north side of Main Street, 21 the schoolhouse, and the new borough church, then but a year old. The act of 1680 under which Norfolk was founded, made no pro¬ vision for a municipal government. The residents of the Wise penin¬ sula were under the jurisdiction of the county court. There was no mayor, no town council, no town court. If the people wished to estab¬ lish a night watch, or light the streets, or put in a town pump, it was to the county justices that they had to appeal. An attempt was made to give Norfolk a government of its own in 1705, when an act of the General Assembly provided for the incorporation of towns which 15 Virginia Magazine of History and Biography, XXIII, 407-414; Norfolk County Deed Book, H, p. 201. 16 Norfolk Herald, Jan. 7, 1835. 17 Ibid.; Norfolk County Deed Book, F, p. 103. 18 Norfolk County Deed Book, H, p. 201; No. 12, p. 130. 19 Ibid., H, p. 201. 20 Norfolk Council Orders, 1736-1798, p. 2b. 21 The borough courthouse was erected later. In 1754 the council appointed “a committee to apply to Edward Travis to know his terms for his land ... to build the said Court House on.” Ibid., p. 30b. 8 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port reached a population of thirty families. Although Norfolk could have complied with these terms, the act was suspended by the crown in 1710 before the town had established a separate government. 22 At the end of the first third of the century, however, Norfolk had grown so large that a separate authority to manage its affairs was necessary. So the inhabitants petitioned the King, asking for letters patent to incorporate the town and the suburbs to Town Bridge into a borough. The place is commodious for trade and navigation, they pointed out, and “of late years” has been “very greatly increased in the number of inhabitants and buildings,” so that many persons “have seated themselves upon the adjoining land.” His Majesty issued his letters patent for the Charter on September 15, 1736. It authorized the establishing of a local government, “consisting of a mayor, one person learned in the law styled and bearing the office of recorder of the said borough, eight aldermen, and sixteen other persons to be common-councilmen.” 23 Power was granted for the appointment of constables, surveyors, and other officers, for regulating trade, super¬ vising buildings and streets, erecting prisons, and inflicting penalties. The town was to be represented in the colonial Assembly by one burgess, elected by freeholders, persons owning personal property to the amount of £50, or other housekeepers who had served five years at a trade. Provision was also made for the establishment of a court of hustings and a court of record, and for the holding of fairs. 24 Governor Gooch appointed Samuel Boush, a prosperous merchant and landowner, as the first mayor. The recorder was Sir John Ran¬ dolph, perhaps the most distinguished person then residing in Vir¬ ginia. When he visited Norfolk to take office, the people seized the opportunity to celebrate the inauguration of their new government. “The gentlemen of the said town and neighborhood showed him all imaginable respect, by displaying the colors, and firing guns of the vessels lying there, and entertained him at their houses in the most elegant manner for several days, amply signalizing their great respect on this joyful occasion.” 25 The new borough also honored another official, the surveyor general of customs, Robert Dinwiddie, by making him an honorary citizen, and in gratitude Dinwiddie in 1741 gave the town a seal. Twelve years later, when Dinwiddie had returned to Virginia as lieutenant- 22 Hening, Virginia Statutes at Large, III, 404-419. 23 Ibid., IV, 541. 24 Ibid. 25 Virginia Gazette, Nov. 26, 1736. 9 Colonial Days and Colonial Ways governor, he again showed his affection for the town by ordering the London silversmith, Fuller White, to make the borough a mace, which was presented to the council on April 1, 1754. This mace, still proudly preserved by the city, is the only surviving bit of municipal regalia from the colonial period. 26 One of the problems facing the new municipal government was the condition of the streets. A visitor to Norfolk at the end of the eight¬ eenth century tells us that the streets were narrow, irregular, unpaved, dirty, and poorly drained. 27 It is certain that they were not better in 1736. It is easy to picture the carts from the near-by farms, jolting over the ruts of Church Street, and the merchants and artisans picking their way around the mud puddles of Main. In July, 1749, the council made Mr. Ebenezer Stevens surveyor of streets, and instructed him to “begin to repair the same from the Town Bridge.” He received permission to “hire as many negroes as he shall think proper,” and provision was made to pay for the work by means of a tax on “every master or mistress of a family” in the borough. 28 How unsatisfactory this work was may be judged from the appointment of a committee to consider “where dirt may be had to repair the streets.” 29 That the borough “fathers” were not unmindful of sanitary regulations is shown by a “bye-law to prevent filth and so forth being hove into the streets.” 30 Nor was early Norfolk without its traffic problems. In 1755 ordinances were passed “to prevent mischiefs from unruly horses, and oxen in carts and wagons, and to prevent the running and training of horses in the streets.” 31 If any servant or slave rode a horse in town “faster than a foot pace,” his master was to be fined 25. 6 d. 32 The first Norfolk police force was established in 1738, the council passing a resolution “that a watch be kept in this town, by six or eight watchmen,” to serve at a salary of £40 each. 33 This system was so great a drain on the town finances, however, that it was soon abandoned, and the citizens were forced to take turns in going the rounds at night. The presence of large numbers of sailors and Negroes was re¬ sponsible for many of the “sundry robberies, insults, and disturbances,” 26 Whichard, History of Lower Tidewater Virginia, I, 377, 380. Benjamin Franklin was also made an honorary citizen when he visited Norfolk in 1756 (ibid., I, 380- 3 8 3 L_____— . 27 Isaac Weld, Travels in North America (London, 1807), I, 172. 28 Norfolk Council Orders, 1736-1798, pp. 21b, 22. 29 Ibid., p. 21b. Getting dirt has always been a difficult problem in Norfolk. 30 Ibid., p. 49. 31 Ibid., p. 30b. 32 Ibid., p. 10b. 33 Ibid. p. 7a. io Norfolk: Historic Southern Port and made some kind of police protection necessary. Four persons kept watch at a time, going on duty at eight, and continuing until five the next morning. In case of “riot or the watch being assaulted,” they were to fire three guns, one after the other, upon which every good citizen was to jump out of bed, and seizing his gun, rush to their assistance. 34 This service proved so onerous that at least one citizen, a certain John Pedrick, refused to do his part. But a fine of five shillings brought him to reason, and he was soon patrolling the streets, with gun in one hand and lantern in the other. 35 From time to time the council tried to re-establish the system of salaried police, but with no perma¬ nent success, 36 an d so late as April, 177^, th e citizens were still tak ing turns at the, watch. 37 The frequent assembling of Negroes “at unreasonable hours at night, and on the Lord’s day” was a source of some alarm. So, in 1719, the county court instructed one Daniel Philips “to inspect into such meetings,” and after a rresting anv Negro abroad after 9 p m. without a certificate, to administer to him,- twenty-one Ja shes at the whipping post. 38 In 1741 the town council took steps to prevent the sale of in¬ toxicating liquors to Negroes, for when drunk they were app_to_be ,—insolent mid incorrigi ble .- ^ -Much of this trouble arose no doubt from the hiring of slaves for work at the wharves. When ships were loading or unloading, these men were kept busy rolling on barrels of tobacco or pork, or heaving off boxes of European goods or casks of rum and sugar. But at other times, they were prone to get into mischief. And for serious misconduct the penalty was apt to be severe. In 1717 a slave named Jack was lodged in jail for stealing some cloth from his master, and when he escaped was recaptured and put on trial for his life. He pleaded benefit of clergy; but as it was established that he could not read, 40 he was condemned to be hanged. The most frequent punish¬ ment for an offending slave was a severe lashing. The county court recorded one case in which a Negro received thirty-five lashes on the bare back, well laid on, for stealing a hoe. 41 Yet the slave was not the only one to feel the severity of the colonial law. Even the most respected white citizen might incur a fine by ab- 34 Ibid., pp. 13b, 14. 35 Ibid., p. 18b. 36 Ibid., p. 52b. 37 Ibid., p. 69b. 38 Norfolk County Deed Book, No. 10, p. 12. 39 Norfolk Council Orders, 1736-1798, p. 10b. 40 Norfolk County Deed Book, No. g, p. 90. 41 Ibid., p. 122. Colonial Days and Colonial Ways x 1 senting himself from church; 42 the good wife who gossiped too much might have to atone on the ducking stool. The first ducking stool in the town seems to have been erected in 1716, “at the upper end of the town, at the end of Major Samuel Boush’s wharf, good and sub¬ stantial.” 43 “This machine was a chair fixed on the end of a long shaft, projected over the water from the town end of the county wharf,” we learn from the reminiscences of an old man in 1835. “The offender was lashed to the chair. On a given signal the shaft was tipped and she was soused, until a promise of better behavior caused a halt.” 44 In those days swearing was a costly matter, for a fine of five shillings was fixed for each oath. When James Spaulding ripped out ten oaths, he was fined fifty shillings. This man, a most undesirable char¬ acter, was convicted of “beating, battering, cursing, swearing and drunkenness.” 45 James Toomoth and his wife Mary constituted a pair of ne’er-do-wells, for the man was fined “for being a common drunk¬ ard,” and Mary “for swearing five oaths and being drunk.” For many years there was no town jail, offenders being confined in the county jail. This building, an irregular structure about forty-five by thirty feet, stood beside the old county courthouse, on the north side of Main Street at the head of Market Square. 46 In 1747 the Coun¬ cil decided to erect a borough prison, situated “upon the public ground,” probably the present Nebraska Street. However, the project had to be postponed until the Assembly granted permission to the town to levy a tax to defray the cost of construction, 47 and it was only in 1753 that work was actually begun. The building was “32 feet long, 16 feet wide, and eight feet pitch in the clear,” with “three 100ms, and a brick stack of chimneys.” 48 The people suffered much from the lack of good water. From the days of William Byrd to those of La Rochefoucauld, it was a common complaint of visitors that the water was brackish and unpalatable. When the first lots were laid out, the common source of water was the public spring, located at a point 110 feet north of Main, and 185 west of Church Street, and here the Negro maids must have congre¬ gated daily with their buckets to dip out the family supply. 49 For wash- 42 Ibid., p. 103. 43 Ibid., p. 161. 44 Norfolk Beacon, Jan. 7, 1835. 45 Norfolk County Deed Book, No. g, p. 213. 46 See map of Capt. Thomas Talbot’s property, made in 1765. 47 Hening, Statutes at Large, VI, 264-265. 48 Norfolk Council Orders, 1736-1737, p. 25b. 49 Norfolk County Deed Book, 1695-1703, pp. 15, 16. 12 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port ing clothes, everyone was forced to resort to the water of the river, “the place appointed for the public laving” being in the eastern end of the town. 50 How long this condition lasted it is impossible to say. No doubt some of the more prosperous citizens sunk wells in their yards at a very early date; but there seems to have been no system of public pumps until more than half a century after the founding of the town. In 1751 the council ordered the clerk of the borough to adver¬ tise on the door of the church and of the courthouse that bids would be received for four wells. They were to be twelve feet deep, five feet in diameter, to be lined with brick, and covered with two-inch plank. The pumps were to be of pine, with spouts, caps, and iron handles. One was placed near the market house, one near Captain Tucker’s store, one near Captain Tatum’s, and one on the school- house land. 51 From time to time these wells were repaired and equipped with new and better pumps^In 17 65 a well ten dug on Charlotte Street, near Town Bridge, and another of the-same size on the school land. 52 The people of Norfolk had the frpp nso-of these wells, but masters of ships who took on a supply of waien-hacTto pay fo r jtT^ > There was never any difficulty in securing water in Norfolk in case of fire, for the people had only to form a bucket brigade, stretching from the burning house to the river, and the supply was inexhaustible. We have few records of fires in colonial Norfolk, and apparently there was no counterpart of the disastrous series of conflagrations which marked the years from 1780 to 1825. Yet one °f the first acts of the council, after the inauguration of the borough government, was to order a fine of five shillings for any person “whose chimney shall blaise out.” They also placed a prohibitive tax of five shillings a month on all wooden chimneys. 53 Just when the first fire engine was purchased is uncertain, but that more than one were in use in 1753 is indicated by the payment of £8 16s. to “John Jones for cleaning and repairing the water engines.” 54 Three years later a shed was added to the borough prison “for the reception of the fire engines.” 55 Apparently these ma¬ chines soon became inadequate or out of date, for in 1763 the council ordered of Messrs. Ennes & Hope, of London, “one fire engine com- 50 Ibid., No. 6. 51 Norfolk Council Orders, 1736-1798, p. 23b. 52 Ibid., p. s2. 53 Ibid., p. 3. 5 *Ibid., p. 26. 55 Ibid., p. 35b. Colonial Days and Colonial Ways plete of the value of about £60.” An additional £40 was spent 1 “buckets and other utensils.” 56 Norfolk, because of its position as a seaport, was scourged by re- currin g epidemics. Y ellow fever, so fatal during the nineteenth cen¬ tury, seems to have been an infrequent visitor, but smallpox was a constant source of terror. From time to time the council tried to establish a quarantine, but with doubtful success. 57 In 1744, when cer¬ tain sailors from a West Indian vessel infected with the disease had taken lodgings in town, the councilmen ordered them to move at once, either back to their ship, or to some isolated house in the sub¬ urbs. 58 Two years later the unwelcome news spread that another vessel had come in with smallpox. The council at once set aside the glebe, then occupied by the Reverend Charles Smith, “as an infirmary or reception house” and engaged nurses and other attendants. “And,” added the council, “all masters of ships, sloops, and other craft are not at their peril to land any infected person within this borough.” 59 The practice ofjinocul ating persons with smallpox of a mild char¬ acter, in order to render them immune to the disease in its more virulent forms, was introduced into New England early in the eight¬ eenth century. It was only in 1768, however, that the Norfolk physi¬ cians began to experiment with it. Their first efforts gave rise to a violent controversy, some persons applauding their efforts, others claiming that they were merely spreading the disease to those who otherwise would escape. 60 The dispute spread to other communities, and waxed so hot that the colonial Assembly was forced to take ac¬ tion. In 176Q it passed an act prohibiting inoculation sav e in special cases, and under strict supervision. “Whereas the wanton introduction of the small pox into this colony by innoculation, when the same was not necessary, hath, of late years, proved a nuisance to several neigh¬ borhoods, by disturbing the peace and quietness of many of his Maj¬ esty’s subjects, and exposing their lives to the infection of that mortal distemper,” the importation of “small pox, or any variolous or infec¬ tious matter of the said distemper” is forbidden. 61 One of the first practicing physicians of Norfolk was William Miller, who resided on the south side of Main Street east of Church. 62 That 56 Ibid., p. 47. 57 Ibid., pp. 12, 12b. 58 Ibid. 59 Ibid., p. 17b. 6° Virginia Gazette, March 5, 1772. 61 Hening, Statutes at Large, VIII, 371, 372. 62 Norfolk County Deed Book, No. 8, p. 41; No. 9, p. 289. 14 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port the life of the colonial doctor was not easy is indicated by a suit brought by Miller in 1715, against Mr. Anthony Walke “for £6 105., for curing a negro’s leg,” and for medicines used during the illness of Walke’s child. The defendant declared that “he never agreed to pay £5 for curing the negro’s leg, and that to his judgment and appear¬ ance, the said negro’s leg was never cured nor made whole.” In the end the justices cut the doctor’s bill to £1 105., and ordered Walke to pay him that amount “for visits, physick, and attendance.” 63 Other physicians, practicing in or near Norfolk in the colonial period, were “William Hunter, chyrurgeon, of Princess Anne”; 64 William Happer, who was a member of the town council in 1742; 65 Calvin Campbell, who died in 1774; 66 George Ramsey, Alexander Gordon, and D. W. McClurg. As in other parts of the colonies, social distinctions in Norfolk were sharply drawn. Merchants, men of independent means, the clergy, and other professional men constituted the first class; ship carpenters, coopers, turners, and other skilled artisans made up a highly re¬ spected second class; day laborers and indentured workers were grouped in a third class; while free Negroes and slaves formed the fourth. 67 Many of the merchants were men of ability and wealth. The original settlers, of course, came from England or the British West Indies, and the merchants of early Norfolk bear distinctly English names, such as Boush, Tucker, Taylor, Smith, and Newton. But in later years, just prior to the Revolution, many Scotchmen moved in, attracted by the advantages for trade. Between these two factions not only was there keen business rivalry, but a political division as well. On election days the Scotch party wore badges of orange, the English of “true blue.” Each established headquarters at Market Square, where punch and grog were ladled out free by the workers. All bets were decided at the tavern over a bowl of hot punch and jelly. 68 The - pro s perous N orfolkjnerchajnt e njoyed all the luxuries that th p age ..affordecU- His home w r as commodious; his table set with choice lood; _from_ JLngJmidJie—imported- clothes .of the latest fashion, from Spain and Madeira th e finest wines; and his slaves relieved his family of the drudgery of household work. We gain an insight into the do- 63 Ibid., No. 9, p. 11 g. 64 Ibid., p. 214. 65 Norfolk Council Orders, 1736-1798, p. 6b. 66 Virginia Gazette, Aug. 4, 1774. 67 Norfolk Herald, Jan. 7, 1835. 68 Ibid. !5 Colonial Days and Colonial Ways mestic economy of these men from the inventory of Robert Tucker, drawn up in 1723. His residence consisted of an entry, hall, parlor, and three chambers. There was also a kitchen apart from the main house, with a chamber above. In the hall were twelve leather chairs, three tables, a couch, a clock, a mirror, a case of drawers, four large maps, twenty-nine pictures, fire tongs, shovel, bellows, and fender. In the chambers were beds, cane chairs, chests of drawers, tables, trunks, pictures, tongs, shovels. The kitchen, the real workshop of this old home, contained two pairs of snuffers and stands, a copper chocolate pot, a coffee pot, one brass mortar and pestle, a warming pan, three spits, two dripping pans, two “aquam vittae morters,” two skimmers, two ladles, two gridirons, a fender, four iron boxes, two tables, four iron pots, seven pairs of pothooks, four racks, four brass kettles, two iron hooks, one pair of tongs and fire shovel, one stew pan, and one pair of iron dogs. The pewter in the kitchen consisted of twenty-four dishes, three dozen plates, thirteen soup plates, six basins, one por¬ ringer, one bed pan, one cheese dish, two plate warmers, three chafing dishes, one teakettle and stand, one saucepan, two skillets, and a candlestick. Mr. Tucker had fifty-seven pieces of plate, presumably of silver, weighing more than twenty-three pounds; his cash on hand reached the surprising figure of £6664, Virginia currency; his Negroes numbered twenty-three; his vessels consisted of one brigantine, three sloops, and three flats. 69 One of the most prosperous landowners of Norfolk in the days prior to the Revolution w as Captain Thomas Talbot. T his gentleman opened a street running north and south from Main to Back Creek through his property near the county courthouse. Although this street was but twenty-six feet wide, it led to a bridge over Back Creek, and became one of the most important thoroughfares in town. Here Cap¬ tain Talbot erected a number of dwellings, which he leased to some of the leading citizens. 70 From the Talbot holdings we gain a very clear picture of Norfolk on the eve of its destruction in 1776. There was a brick store next to the county jail, on the northwest corner ojMVfaixi andJTa!kutj|t reets > thirty-eight feet by twenty-six feet, with three rooms below and three above. The windows of the store and of the cellar were fitted with iron bars. Some distance back of this structure was a warehouse, forty-five feet by twenty feet. Near by was another brick 69 Norfolk County Deed Book, Vol. F, p. 103. 70 W. S. Forrest, Sketches of Norfolk (Philadelphia, 1853), pp. 66, 67; Hening, Statutes at Large, VIII, 454. i6 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port building, sixty-one feet by twenty-five feet, with a room at one end used as a store, two other rooms on the ground floor, and three rooms above. The cellar contained three rooms, while a separate building twenty feet by sixteen was used as a kitchen. Another brick structure fifty feet by thirty feet served as a residence for two families. It had “three rooms below and three above stairs at each end compleat, with kitchen, cow-house, smokehouse for each.” Near-by was a commodious house with two rooms and a passage below, two rooms on the second floor, and two in the garret. On the first floor were six 18-light and four 12-light windows, on the second eight 12-light windows. In the basement were the kitchen and two other rooms. In addition there were other buildings—a wooden dwelling, thirty-seven feet by twenty- five, two double houses of brick, together with stables, gardens, etc. The entire group was valued at £3,3o8. 71 Ranking next to the merchants in wealth and influence was the large group o f mariners. I t was inevitable that in a seaport, where ships were constantly arriving and leaving for foreign parts, many young men would feel the lure of the seafaring life. Not all who entered this profession were of humble parentage, for now and then a jCalvert^a Tu cker, a Maxwell,, or a Hutchings took service on a West India merchantman. Among those who received compensation from the state for the destruction of their property in the fires of 1776 were thirty-five persons listed as mariners, some of them having extensive holdings. James Maxwell owned five houses, valued at £757; Chris¬ topher Calvert, eleven houses at £1,102; Wright Wescott, five houses on Catharine Street at £988; Paul Proby, ten houses on Bermuda Street at £882; James Dawson, ten houses at £894; and Thomas Price, six houses on Main Street at £638. 72 Some of the very first settlers in Norfolk were men of the sea. Captain William Knott, “marriner,” owned two lots, one on the south side of Main in the west end of town, where he built his home, and another opposite on the north side of the street. He seems to have been a well-to-do and influential citizen. 73 More numerous than the group of masters and sea captains were the common sailors. So early as 1728, William Byrd tells us, the town was provided with “sailors enough to manage their navigation.” 74 Some were married and had humble homes on the back streets; others were 71 William H. Stewart, History of Norfolk County (Chicago, 1902), pp. 55, 56. 72 Ibid., pp. 363-367. 73 Norfolk County Deed Book, 1685-1695, p. 187. 74 Byrd, History of the Dividing Line, pp. 19, 20. *7 Colonial Days and Colonial Ways single, and when on shore, lived at one of the less pretentious ordi¬ naries. In 1807, when the Cape Cod skipper, Elijah Cobb, was in need of men for his vessel, he went the rounds of the “sailors’ boarding houses,” signed up a crew, and paid “the advance to their landlords.” 75 [La Rochefoucauld, who visited Norfolk in 1796, says that the place housed many sea captains and sailors, so that Virginia could man her own vessels, and in this respect was not dependent upon the Northern states as were Georgia and the Carolinas. 76 . The fact that so many skilled sailors made Norfolk their head¬ quarters did not escape the attention of the famous press gangs of j the Royal Navy. In 1767 Captain Jeremiah Morgan, of the sloop-of- war Hornet, being short of men, decided to recruit them by force in Norfolk. So he rowed up to the county wharf in an armed tender one night at eleven o’clock, and landed thirty seamen. After refreshing | themselves with “a cheerful glass” at a near-by tavern, the party j marched off “to that part of town where seamen resorted to.” Here ; they aroused the keepers of the various lodginghouses, and with ! oaths and threats, forced them to open the doors. A few of the sleepy tars resisted when they were pulled out of bed, but they were promptly I subdued by a rap on the head, dragged downstairs and hustled through the streets to the tender. In the meanwhile the night watch had given the alarm and the people came tumbling out, partly clothed, to see what the disturbance was about. A crowd, headed by Paul Loyall, formerly mayor of Norfolk, seeing the press gang with their victims, charged boldly in among them. Morgan was so infuriated at this inter¬ ference that he lunged at Loyall with his sword, and ordered his men to fire. But the citizens crowded so closely upon the sailors that they could not use their arms, and in the end not only did they lose their 1 prisoners, but several of their own number were dragged off to jail. 77 | Rural Virginia was almost devoid of an independent artisan class. It is true that many skilled workers came to the colony, but they found it difficult to maintain themselves by their trades. So the carpenter dropped his saw, the shoemaker his adz, the bricklayer his trowel, to take up the hoe or the plow. If some few stuck to their trades, they demanded extravagant rates, and few employed them but out of pure necessity. 78 The planters frequently had to train their indentured workers and slaves as artisans, and every large estate had its carpenter, 75 Elijah Cobb, A Cape Cod Skipper (New Haven, 1925) , p. 64. 76 La Rochefoucauld, Voyages dans les Btats-Unis (Paris, 1799), IV, 271. 77 Virginia Gazette, Oct. 1, 1767. 78 Virginia Magazine of History and Biography, IV, 267. 18 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port its cooper, its blacksmith, its shoemaker, its tanner. 79 But in Norfolk conditions were different. The artisan class was large, independent, prosperous, and the Norfolk ship carpenter or tanner had a place in the community hardly less important than that of his fellow worker of Hingham or Barnstable. Among the house owners of Norfolk in 1776 were seventeen carpenters, six ship carpenters, four bricklayers, four tanners, four blacksmiths, three blockmakers, three bakers, three silversmiths, three joiners, two sailmakers, two shoemakers, a watch¬ maker, a coppersmith, a cooper, a wheelwright, a tallow-chandler, a saddler, and a hatter. 80 Wages were exceptionally high. The four shillings and one pint of rum paid each ship carpenter for a day’s work in refitting the ship Phaeton seems insignificant today, but in 1759 it provided a very respectable living. Many a Virginia clergyman wished that his income was as large. 81 The artisan group in Norfolk was recruited by the usual method of apprenticing youths to estab¬ lished tradesmen. In 1714 Joseph Mercer was bound to Thomas Mer¬ cer, who agreed to teach him “the trade and mystery of weaver,” and undertook to instruct him in reading and writing. 82 When one Francis Brown abused his apprentice, Alexander Ross, the court transferred the latter to Thomas Nash, Jr., who contracted to bring him up to the trade of cooper. 83 Conspicuous in the life of colonial Norfolk were the many ordi¬ naries, or taverns. Here the weary trader just in from North Carolina sought bed and food, here the workman came at noon for a small beer, here the sparks of the town danced or gamed under the inspira¬ tion of a bowl of punch, here the idle congregated to hear the latest news of the war in Canada or the closing of Boston harbor. Among the first tavern keepers were Mrs. Ann Coverley, Peter Malbone, John Loftland, Thomas Cretcher, John Gay, Richard Josslin, Grace Powell, and Thomas Walker. The life of these good people was by no means easy, for competition was severe, prices low, and the complaints of patrons frequent. In 1717 all the innkeepers were brought before the county court, charged with using false measures. Fortunately they were able to submit their measures to the justices, who decided that they were all correct and true. 84 But poor Mrs. Coverley had to answer 79 Jones, The Present State of Virginia, p. 36. 80 Stewart, History of Norfolk County, pp. 363-367. 81 Grenlees and Hardie, Ledger, p. 52a, Office of Corporation Court of Norfolk. 82 Norfolk County Deed Book, No. 9, p. 118. 83 Ibid., p. 149. 8 *Ibid., pp. 189-194. i9 Colonial Days and Colonial Ways the additional charge of “not being provided with stablidge and pasturage” for guests. There was little opportunity for the innkeeper to overcharge his patrons, for all prices were strictly regulated by the court. Rum retailed at six shillings a gallon, “punch if made good” at 1 6d. a quart, cider at 12 d. a gallon, small beer at jy^d. a gallon, Madeira at 22J/2 d. a quart, milk punch at 71/2 d. a gallon, claret at 3$. ^y 2 d. a quart. For “dyat” the guest paid 3 d. 3 farthings a meal, for “housing and foderadge for 24 hours 6 d./’ with 6 d. a gallon extra for corn and oats for his horse. 85 On one occasion a drinking party at Richard Josslin’s tavern had so tragic an ending that all concerned were hauled into court. Samuel Rogers, Nathaniel Newton, James Hustings, and Henry Jenkins were having a gay time over a bowl of sangaree, when a certain William Finiken entered. “Come in, Mr. Finiken,” they called to him, “you are as welcome as a prince.” As the newcomer was noted as a dancer, they sent for a violin, and while one of the others played, he danced sev¬ eral jigs , pausing frequently, no doubt, for y isits-to.J:he punch bowl. Then Finiken and Rogers began a game of cards called All-fours, in which Rogers won several bowls of sangaree. After this they began a friendly tussle, falling down and rolling over on the heavily sanded floor. After a pause they began this mock fighting again, and Finiken was thrown violently backward on the floor. The others lifted him to a bed, cut his neckcloth so that he could breathe freely, and after find¬ ing that his pulse was normal, left him to sleep off the effects of the sangaree. The next morning he was dead. 86 The event ofjdi e year in Norfolk was the fair, held in Market Square. HeretHe merchants displayed their best wares; here the coun¬ try people brought in their choicest cattle, corn, wheat, fruit, and poultry; here the court of pie-poudre, established under the charter, held its sessions. The fair was marked always by various kinds of con¬ tests. First came pole climbing. A well-greased pole was set up in the center of the square, with a gold-laced hat on top, and he whose skill in climbing was great enough to enable him to reach it, could claim the prize as his own. Usually, after others had failed, some nimble sailor boy would clamber up with ease. Next, three or four young girls would race for a fine Holland chemise. Following this event, pigs with greased tails were released in the crowd, with the announcement that they would belong to any who could catch them by the tail and 85 Ibid., p. 114. 86 Ibid., p. 163. 20 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port hold on. The “scuffling, jostling, and upsetting” which followed were received with shouts of glee. The sack race also caused great merri¬ ment. Sometimes there would be bull-baiting, accompanied by a gen¬ eral scamper to the roofs of houses bordering on the square. 87 The presence of many young naval officers, who visited the town on merchantmen and warships, added much to the gaiety of social life. “My father was very hospitable and used to entertain all the strangers of any note that came among us,” says one Norfolk lady in her remi¬ niscences, “and especially the captains and officers of the British navy.” One fifty-gun ship came in, with “thirty-two midshipmen on board, mostly boys and lads of good families, and several of them sprigs of nobility. They used to come to my father’s house at all hours, and frequently dined with us. Sometimes, too, they would go into the kitchen to get a little something to stay their appetites. Of course I had many beaux who flattered me and danced with me, and one or two, who loved me and would have married me if I would have said yes. My father was fond of good living, and kept a famous cook—poor old Quashabee—who made the best soups, sauces, gravies, and all such things in the world. . . . [Father] was particularly fond of arrack punch, and always kept his silver tankard by him, holding about three pints, which he would empty two or three times a day till the doc¬ tors began to be afraid that he would fall into a lethargy and limited him to a single one.” 88 We gain an even more vivid picture of social life in Norfolk from a description of Governor Dunmore’s visit to the town, in the days be¬ fore the Revolution. “It so happened then . . . that my Lord and Lady Dunmore, and their family, came to pay a visit to Norfolk, and our people turned out to receive them in style. Indeed you never saw such a fuss as we made. For then, you know, we were all royalists, all the King’s subjects, (tho’ we were beginning to feel a little mannish about our rights) and we thought we couldn’t do too much to honor our guests. So among other thing, we made ’em a grand ball at the old Masons Hall, and all the gentry of our town were there of course. And besides we had sent off an express to Princess Anne for Colonel Mosley, who was reckoned the finest gentleman we had, to come to town with his famous wig and shining buckles, to dance the minuet with my Lady, for our poor mayor, Captain Abyvon, was afraid to ven¬ ture upon such a thing. And then we had all the British navy officers, 87 Norfolk Herald, Jan. 7, 1835. 88 Lower Norfolk County Antiquary, I, 97. 21 Colonial Days and Colonial Ways Captain Montagug ^and the rest, with their heads powdered, as white as they could be. What was best of all, all our pretty girls, far and near, came out to grace the scene. . . . So, by and by, the fiddles struck up, and there went my Lady Dunmore in the minuet, sailing about the room in her great, fine hoop-petticoat (her new fashioned air balloon as I called it) and Colonel Mosley after her, wig and all. Bless her heart, how cleverly she managed her hoop,—now this way, now that—everybody was delighted. “Then came the reels, and here the Norfolk lads and lassies turned in with all their hearts and heels. This was my cue, and I led out my sweetheart, Nancy Wimble, in my best style, resolved to show all the sprigs of nobility what we Buckskins could do. In fact I believe I cut some wonderful capers sure enough—for I heard the young British dogs tittering one side. ... As for Nancy, I am sure she might have danced before the Queen. It is true, she hadn’t a hoop then; but she didn’t want one to set her off. A young Cockney, a marine officer, who was there in his red coat, got quite smit with her . . . and talked with her about London, the King, and all such nonsense, and danced with her every time. ... I soon found that she thought him worth two of me. . . . Then she took to reading novels, and got a new hoop petti¬ coat to make her a lady, and began to study what she should say when she came to stand before the King.’’ 89 Although such distinguished guests came seldom to this little seaport town, the monotony of daily life was occasionally broken by grand cele¬ brations in honor of the coronation of a new king or of some notable British victory. On July 23, 1746, Norfolk celebrated the defeat of the Young Pretender at Culloden. A procession wound through the streets headed by three drummers, a piper, three violinists, six men with rods and sashes, and a nurse carrying a warming pan from which peeped the head of a child, symbolizing the alleged illegitimate circumstances of the Old Pretender’s birth. Next came a cart with a figure represent¬ ing the Stuart claimant seated in a chair. Behind marched six men with drawn cutlasses, followed by a long line of people from the town and surrounding country. Finally the procession came to a halt, and the effigy was hanged amid the firing of salutes and the drinking of toasts. That night the town was illuminated, and the celebration was brought to an end with a brilliant ball. 90 The presence in town of foreign sailors, a not infrequent occurrence, 89 Ibid., V, 32-35. 90 Forrest, Sketches of Norfolk, p. 65. 22 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port sometimes led to excitement of a very different kind. In November, 1762, a British transport, on its way to Cadiz, with a part of the cap¬ tured garrison of Havana, put in for repairs. Don Pedro Bermudez, a naval officer, with his family and attendants, together with one hun¬ dred and nineteen Spanish soldiers and sailors were disembarked. It so happened that the British vessel Arundel was in port, and some of her crew got into an altercation with the foreigners in the streets of Ports¬ mouth. The Spaniards, who had no arms, fled to their lodginghouse, but the English fired in the windows, killing one man and wounding several others, and then set fire to the building. They also broke into the residence where Don Pedro was staying, and subjected him to a severe beating. Captain Wainwaring of the Arundel finally dispersed his enraged sailors, and, with the appearance of the Norfolk militia, restored quiet. 91 These occasional scenes of violence did not mean that the religious life of the community was being neglected. In Norfolk, as in the rest of colonial Virginia, the Church of England was established by law. When the town w : as laid out, it remained part of Elizabeth River parish, which covered the same area as Norfolk County. By 1700 the parish church, like the courthouse, had been moved to the town, where it was built on the lot set aside for it at the time of the initial survey on the west side of what soon became known as Church Street. 92 Be¬ cause of the loss of the vestry records prior to 1749 nothing is known of this church except that it was made of brick. About the time that Norfolk was incorporated as a borough, the vestry seems to have decided that a new building was needed, and the church now known as St. Paul’s was erected in another part of the churchyard lot in 1739. The date fortunately is preserved because the builder worked it into the wall of the south transept, where it can still be seen. Underneath the date are the initials, “S. B.,” presumably for the first Samuel Boush, donor of the original chalice for the old church. Tradition has it that he donated the land, but this is im¬ probable, since the parish already owned the churchyard. It is more likely that he promised the bricks for the church, as there is evidence that he owned a brickyard. 93 Although the vestry had the power to levy taxes, it had difficulty in collecting enough money to maintain the church, as is apparent from 91 Charles Stuart to Governor Fauquier, Nov. 23, 1762. Transcript in Library of Congress. F 92 Whichard, History of Lower Tidewater Virginia, I, 340. 93 Ibid., I, 384-385. 23 Colonial Days and Colonial Ways the surviving records. All through the 1750’s the vestry hoped to build a wall around the churchyard but failed to obtain enough money, partly because the funds had to be devoted to repairing the chapel at Great Bridge and to rebuilding the poorhouse, which had to be kept up by the vestry. A greater disfigurement to the churchyard than the lack of a wall was the condition of the original church, which for years had been falling into neglected ruin. In 1750 the vestry at¬ tempted to convert the old building into a schoolhouse by offering “the Bricks and Timbers of the old church’’ to James Pasteur, parish clerk and schoolmaster, on the condition that he use them to build a house on the school lot on the other side of the street. This plan came to nothing, and ten years later the vestry gave Joseph Mitchell “the Bricks &c of the Old Church on condition that he clears the churchyard of all the Rubish. . . ,” 94 It is to be hoped that Mitchell finally cleared away the ruins of the old church twenty years after it had been abandoned. We do not know, since the surviving records of the colonial vestry end in 1761. The names of many of the ministers who served the Norfolk church have been recovered from other sources, but the list is necessarily fragmentary. The first minister to serve the church in town was prob¬ ably the Reverend William Rudd, who was in the Elizabeth River parish in 1702. He was followed by Roger Kelsall, who died in 1709. The following year Governor Alexander Spotswood assigned James McMoran to the parish, and he served until his death four years later. James Falconer is the only known minister during the next ten years, and his stay was brief, but there must have been other ministers, as Robert Tucker gave a communion service to the church in 1722, and the service would have been useless without an ordained minister in the parish. In 1724 a clergyman with a Spanish name, John Garcia, arrived to stay for three years. When William Byrd visited Norfolk in 1728, he found John Marsden conducting the service and reported that the sermon was good; unfortunately, Marsden was not, for he de¬ parted suddenly, leaving a large sum in bad debts behind him. Mars¬ den was succeeded by Moses Robertson, who was followed by Charles Smith about 1743. Smith remained in Norfolk until 1761, when the parts of the county south and east of the Elizabeth River were split off into separate parishes and Smith became rector of the Portsmouth parish. Alexander Rhonnald and Thomas Davis served as ministers of the Norfolk church between 1761 and the Revolution. The division 94 Ibid., I, 388-389. 24 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port of the parish required the sale of the glebe land, which had been farmed for the benefit of the minister, and, instead of buying a new glebe, the Norfolk vestry acquired four town lots to help support the rector. 95 The earlier ministers probably also served as schoolmasters, since it was the custom in the eighteenth century for the minister to conduct an informal school for the parish children. As soon as the parish could afford it, the vestry generally hired a parish clerk to take over this duty of the minister, along with other ministerial duties such as keep¬ ing the records and digging the graves in the churchyard. The earliest known clerk-schoolmaster was James Pasteur, who held the post in 1750 and is said to have begun teaching in Norfolk as early as 1739. 96 Since the parish school was limited to the elementary “three R’s,” the people of Norfolk attempted to set up a more advanced Grammar School, where boys could learn Latin and Greek as a preparation for college. In 1752 the General Assembly authorized the county court and the borough council jointly to hire a schoolmaster and establish a Grammar School on the still vacant schoolhouse lot. James Pasteur may have held this post, but the first recorded master of the Grammar School was Richard Collinson, who was examined on January 1, 1756, by the president and masters of the College of William and Mary, as required by law, and “thought capable of teaching the Grammar School at Norfolk.” Inevitable differences of opinion between the county court and the borough council over the appointment of school¬ masters and other problems led to a new act in 1762, vesting sole control of the Grammar School in the borough council. The law inci¬ dentally mentioned that a schoolhouse had at last been built on the schoolhouse lot, thus fixing the date of the first school building as before 1762, most likely in 1761. 97 The Grammar School, of course, was intended only for boys, and even the parish elementary school was apparently exclusively mascu¬ line. Girls, however, were able to obtain an education suitable to their abilities at one of the private schools in the town. One of these Nor¬ folk girls, Mrs. Maxwell, recalled in her later years: “I was put to school to a poor dame by the name of Mrs. Drudge, and, to be sure, she did drudge to teach me my letters—spelling and reading after a fashion. . . . She taught me, good soul, to read the Bible and the 95 Ibid., I, 347-349, 385, 390-391. 96 Ibid.., I, 393. 97 Ibid., I, 393-395. 25 Colonial Days and Colonial Ways : stories in it pleased me greatly. . . . After I had learned out here, I was sent to a Mrs. Johnson. . . . She taught me needlework, and marking on a sampler. After this as I was shooting up, my father . . . wished to send me to a fashionable boarding school that there was then in Williamsburg. . . . Shortly after Donald Campbell imported a school master from Scotland, by the name of Buchan, who opened a select school, and I was sent to him to learn the higher branches of English, French, or Spanish.” 98 Perhaps Mr. Campbell was related to the Mrs. Susanna Campbell who inserted an advertisement in the Vir¬ ginia Gazette of August 4, 1774. “Mrs. Campbell begs leave to inform the ladies, that she has taken a house near the church, and intends opening a boarding and day school for young ladies . . . where those who will please to favor her with the care of their children, may de¬ pend upon the strictest attention.” 99 Such was Norfolk during the colonial period. The town—a busy seaport in an agricultural colony—was a thing apart from the rest of Virginia. Its people were Virginians, it is true, yet they had in many ways more in common with Boston or Philadelphia than with the planters of the James or the York. Although they rivaled the landed aristocracy in wealth, built substantial houses fitted with handsome furniture and costly plate, surrounded themselves with slaves, adhered to the Anglican Church, and acquired a certain degree of breadth and culture, there were essential differences. They were first of all practi¬ cal, keen businessmen, lacking the taste for political life, the urge for study, and the philosophical view, which the plantation system fos¬ tered in their neighbors. Norfolk produced no Washington, no Jeff¬ erson, no Madison. When William Byrd visited the place in 1728, he felt himself in such strange surroundings that in his Dividing Line he describes it with the same interest he would have shown in a town of Spain or Turkey. And had George Washington stopped there in 1775, his im¬ pressions would have been similar. The life of the town would have seemed strange and unfamiliar—the shipping in the river, the crowded warehouses, the wharves piled high with boxes and barrels, the throngs in the streets, the foreign goods in the shops. The fact that Norfolk was a mercantile town in an agricultural province made her position somewhat perilous. She had no great clash of interests with the ruling planter aristocracy in the colonial period, but such a clash might come 98 Lower Norfolk County Antiquary, II, 24, 25. 99 Ibid,., V, 72. s6 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port at any moment, and then, outvoted ten to one, she would be helpless. It was this separateness of interest which was largely responsible for the destruction of the town in 1776, and which many decades later produced state legislation so hostile that she seriously considered an¬ nexation to North Carolina. CHAPTER TWO Down to the Sea in Ships I he founders of Norfolk selected a site admirably suited for trade. To the north lay Chesapeake Bay, stretching two hundred miles through eastern Virginia and Maryland to the borders of Pennsylvania. Within a few miles were the mouths of the James and the York, while the Potomac could be reached with a good breeze in less than a day. It seemed certain that the products of the region drained by these great inland waterways would pour into Norfolk, there to be re¬ shipped to foreign parts. Yet Norfolk did not come into being as the port of the Chesapeake Bay country. Long after it had become a thriv¬ ing tow n the t o bacco-ship s, whether from St. Mary’s, the York, or the James^sjdle d out past Cape Charles or Cape Henry^ without so much as a gl ance in her direction. Since every plantation had its own wharf, where ocean-going vessels could tie up, a port of reshipment was not needed. S o the English merchantmen went from river to river, from creek to creek, dis p o sing of their cargoes o f European goods^.and tak¬ ing on the hogsheads of Sweetscente d and O rin oco. Not until the third or fourth decade of the eighteenth century, when the in creasing I size of ships made it difficult to ascend and descend the winding rivers, w as a large part of the commerc e of eastern Virginia concen¬ trated at Norfolk. The trade of Elizabeth River itself was fairly extensive, however, even in the seventeenth century, and to this the village fell heir. In colonial days the agricultural output of Norfolk and Princess Anne counties was not large. Tobacco, the basis of wealth in other parts of the colony, could not be produced to perfection in the sandy soil 28 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port which covers so much of this region, and the day of truck gardening was far in the future. Here and there patches of the familiar green leaves would be seen, side by side with fields of wheat and Indian corn, but the plantations yielded at best but a moderate living. So late as 1796, so Rochefoucauld tells us, the shores and river banks were still covered with pine forests. 1 But these very woods provided the chief source of income. A century before La Rochefoucauld visited Norfolk, Edward Randolph reported to the British government that pitch and tar were produced in con¬ siderable quantities on the branches of the Elizabeth River. 2 The in¬ dustry was carried on by poor men who built their kilns unassisted by servants or slaves, and considered a few dozen barrels a year an ex¬ cellent output. The tar-burner first laid down a circular floor of clay. Upon this he piled pine logs, covered them with a coat of earth and ignited them through a small opening left for that purpose. This was then closed and the fire left to smoulder. As the tar trickled down upon the clay floor, it was drained off into barrels by an inclined w T ooden pipe. If the burner decided to convert his tar into pitch, he boiled it in large kettles, or burned it in holes made in the clay. To secure a supply of turpentine he was put to considerably less trouble. Going from pine to pine, he made a series of slashes, beginning as high as he could reach and continuing to a point near the ground, so connected as to drain off the turpentine to a bucket at the bottom. 3 Th e tar-burner usually established himself upon a navigable stream or inlet, within easy reach of Norfolk. When he had accumulated a fair supply, he rolled his barrels on board a flat-bottomed boat or a shallop, hoisted sail, and set off to market. 4 Before sundown his tar, or pitch, or turpentine was reposing on one of the Norfolk wharves, and he was busily reloading with calico, nails, an axe, a saw, a kettle, stock¬ ings, shoes, or other needed articles from the merchant’s store. Perhaps he would return with goods worth twice as much as his little cargo. 1 Voyages dans les £tats-Unis, IV, 254. 2 Prince Society, Publications (Boston, 1865-igu), XVI, 478. 3 J. F. D. Smyth, A Tour of the United States, II (Dublin, 1784) , 95-97. Smyth’s account was written in 1784, but there is every reason to believe that the processes he describes were identical with those employed a century earlier. In 1742 a law was passed to prevent frauds in this industry. “The burners and sellers of tar, pitch, and turpentine were guilty of mixing them with sand, shavings, brick bats and such trash.” 4 It is probable that Norfolk merchants often provided the vessels in which the tar, pitch, and turpentine were brought to their wharves. With few exceptions the inventories of all the larger dealers show one or more small boats ( Norfolk County Deed Book, H, pp. 28-31, 95, 96, 155-163). 29 Down to the Sea in Ships for the Norfolk merchants we re li beral in granting credit. Not in¬ frequently he brought home a goodly sized cask of West Indian rum; in which case the merchant might have to sue for his money, for when the rum flowed freely, the tar-kiln was apt to go out and the turpentine trees go untended. 5 If the tar-burner had on his property cypress and oak trees, he might add to his income by cutting plank and shingles. For this some capital was necessary, for he had to have horses-and cart wheels for moving the timber, one or more Negroes to handle it, and axes,whipsaws, and “cutti ng mill s’’ for sawing it into boards. 6 But when once the work was done, he was sure of a good return. One-inch oak plank brought nearly six shillings the hundred foot, 7 and good cypress or juniper shingles nine shillings a thousand. 8 The proximity of the Great Dismal Swamp made the timber supply almost inexhaustible. This wilderness, lying south of Norfolk, stretched from the south branch of the Elizabeth River to the Pasquotank, in North Carolina. Here bears, wolves, wildcats, raccoons, and foxes lived under the great trees, protected from the huntsman by the marshy na¬ ture of the ground and the impenetrable undergrowth. If once a run- awa y slave reached the swamp, he was fairly safe from pursuit, for few masters would ThlldW - him- -through _the half-hidden paths, where a misstep might mean death. 9 The country people for many years took timber from its borders without molestation. William Byrd, when he visited the swamp to run the dividing line between Virginia and North Carolina, remarked upon their boldness. “They get boards, shingles, and other lumber out of it in great abundance,” he wrote, making “bold with the King’s lands thereabouts without the least ceremony.” 10 The great swamp was used also as a free feeding ground for cattle and hogs. 11 One would secure from the county court an official mark or 5 Mr. Matthew Godfrey was among those having extensive dealings with neigh¬ boring tar-burners. In 1716 and 1717 we find him suing successively William Maund for five barrels of tar, Walter Carling for seven barrels, and Owen Jones for nine barrels (Norfolk County Deed Book, No. g, pp. 159, 168, 172, from rear). 6 The inventory of Mrs. Ann Tatum, in 1744, showed one pair of cart wheels and chain, several whipsaws, one cutting mill, three wedges, and several thousand feet of plank (Norfolk County Deed Book, H, p. 116) . 7 Ibid. 8 Grenlees and Hardie, Ledger, p. 11. 9 Johann D. Schoepf, Travels in the Confederation (Philadelphia, 1911), pp. 99, 100. 10 Byrd, History of the Dividing Line, pp. 19-20. 11 Ibid. 30 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port brand, place it upon the stock, and turn them loose to feed. 12 At the proper seasons one would slaughter his cows and hogs, provided they could be found in the wilderness of trees and bushes, salt the meat, and pack it in barrels for market. Frequently one man would carry on simultaneously the trades of tar-burner, stock raiser, and wood cutter. 13 Partly because of this diversification of interest, partly because the proximity of the Dismal Swamp made it difficult to keep slaves, the herds were always narrowly limited in number. 14 But had Norfolk been the mart for the adjacent counties only, it would have remained always a village. It ow T ed its first real growth to the geography of eastern North Carolina. The settlers who moved into the marshy region south of the Virginia line found themselves upon a land-locked sea. Albemarle and Pamlico Sounds, each stretching far into the interior, the shores broken by innumerable bays and river mouths, are admirably suited for inland trade. But from Princess Anne to Cape Lookout they could be entered from the Atlantic at a few in¬ lets only, and these were often clo gged hv shifting sand bars^ _Roannke inlet was the best for Roanoke Sound, but even it was impassable for all save a “very few vessels and of small burden.” 15 From Edenton, at the mouth of the Chowan River, vessels had to make the long detour to Ocracoke inlet. 16 So the North Carolini ans, in seeking a ma rket for their g oods, were forced to take them overland to ^Norfolk, or to load them on light sailing vessels and bring them around by way of Cape Henry. In this way began the close commercial relations between the town and North Carolina, which, continuing to the present day, have contributed so much to its development. In the infancy of the colony the ocean route from Carolina to Vir- 12 In 1716 Mr. Lemuel Langley obtained an official mark for his stock, which was to be cut on the ears (Norfolk County Deed Book, No. 9, p. 152) . 13 There are cases in which Norfolk merchants sued one of these woodsmen for tar, shingles or plank, and salted meat, which had been contracted for but not delivered. In 1717 Walter Curling was ordered by the court to pay Matthew Godfrey forty-eight pounds of pork, seven barrels of tar, and 2,800 cypress shingles (Ibid., p. 168, from rear). 14 The inventory of John Corfrew, in 1746, showed 21 cattle, 23 sheep, and 188 hogs; that of Mrs. Elizabeth Holstead, 38 cattle, 96 hogs, and 26 sheep; that of Mrs. Ann Tatum, 11 hogs, 19 cattle, and 26 sheep (Norfolk County Deed Book, H, pp. 116, 196, 199). 15 Colonial Records of North Carolina, IV, 169. Edward Moseley (on his New and Correct Map of North Carolina, published in 1733) states that Roanoke inlet had 10 feet at low tide. Currituck inlet, Hatteras inlet, and New inlet, he declares to be fit only for small sloops or shallops. 16 “You have at Ocracock Bar 12 fathoms at low water in the range of the bea¬ cons.” (Moseley, New and Correct Map of North Carolina.) In 1759 the schooner Dolphin, on its way to Virginia with pork and corn, stuck on the bar several times in coming through one of these inlets (Grenlees and Hardie, Ledger, p. 60) . 3i Down to the Sea in Ships ginia was used almost exclusively, for the roads were then impassable. Often they were little more than trails, difficult to find, cut by creeks and rivers, and clogged with mud. 17 The settlers built their homes on the water’s edge, so that large vessels could tie up at their private wharves. Those who lived but a mile or two back often found it im¬ possible to get their products down to the public landings when rain had made the “wayes too deep.” 18 If the settler’s land was situated up some shallow creek, he would bring his barrels of pork and tar in canoes or piraguas, down under the overhanging trees, to transfer them to vessels sturdy enough to make the dangerous voyage around to Norfolk. The sloop which took on its cargo in the Perquimans River, or at the mouth of the Chowan, if it got safely down Albemarle Sound and turned Powell’s Point, might run aground on one of the islands of Currituck Sound, or stick on the sand bars in passing through Currituck inlet. Once out in the waters of the Atlantic, it must scurry along at full speed, over the thirty-five miles to Cape Henry, for fear a sudden squall would bring disaster. At that point the skipper could breathe more easily, for the remainder of the voyage to Hampton Roads and up the Elizabeth was comparatively safe. As he approached the cluster of dwellings and storehouses which marked the early towm, he headed for the wharf of the merchant to whom his cargo was consigned. If his goods had yet to be disposed of, he anchored in the river, and rowed ashore to bargain with prospective purchasers. This procedure was not likely to last long, f or the demand. fo r Carolina wares was alway s good. Before the day was done, the schooner would be tied up at the wharf, while sweating slaves rolled the goods ashore and into the merchant’s warehouse. Some of the barrels were filled with salted pork or beef, some with Indian corn, some with tar or pitch; here were packages of beans and peas, here butter and cheese, here a bundle of hides, here boxes of beeswax and myrtle wax. 19 If the skipper, before leaving Carolina, had touched at some remote landing, far from the eyes of spying customs collectors, he probably had taken on a few hundred pounds of tobacco, without paying the duty of one penny a pound demanded of the intercolonial trade. After the crew had regaled themselves with rum or small beer at Mrs. Coverley’s ordinary, had wandered through the shops of Main 17 Colonial Records of North Carolina (Raleigh, 1884), I, 616, 708, 715. 18 North Carolina Historical Review, III, 25. 19 Colonial Records of North Carolina, III, pp. xv-xviii, 621. 32 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port Street, and perhaps gotten into a brawl with the English sailors down at the county wharf, they began the work of taking on the return cargo. First came a dozen casks of Jamaica rum, then two or three hogsheads of sugar or molasses; next the men brought aboard great packages of European goods—coarse linens and woolens, hatchets, nails, scissors, hoes, axes, files, kettles, skillets, bedding, pewter, hats, shoes, clothing, guns and powder. 20 If space were left, a few slaves, newly imported from Guinea, might be taken on for sale to the Albemarle farmers. 21 At last, when all was ready, the hatches were battened down, the ropes cast loose, sails hoisted, and the return voyage begun. In the early years of the eighteenth century this budding trade was threatened by a nest of pirates, led by Ca ptain Teacjl, commonly known as black beard. This rascal gathered a desperate crew, armed several sloops, and, making his headquarters near Ocracoke inlet, preyed upon incoming and outgoing vessels, or even darted out into the Atlantic to capture an occasional West Indian. 22 This was a serious matter for Norfolk, for the pirates soon created such terror in the Albemarle country that only the boldest skippers dared venture out. The North Carolina traders appealed to Governor Spotswood, of Virginia, for protection, pointing out that their own government was too weak to grapple with Teach’s band. It so happened that two Brit¬ ish war vessels, the Pearle and the Lyme, sent, no doubt, to convoy the Chesapeake tobacco fleet to Great Britain, were lying in Virginia waters. Since they drew too much water to follow Teach into the shallows of Albemarle and Pamlico, the governor drafted fifty-five of the seamen, placed them on board two armed sloops, hired pilots, and sent them off for the Carolina coast. As they approached Ocracoke in¬ let, they saw Blackbeard’s flag waving over a sloop armed with eight guns. Realizing that his end was at hand, the pirate “took up a bowl of liquor,” “drank damnation to everyone that should give or ask quarter,” and let loose a broadside. Although twenty of the King’s men had fallen, the sloops came alongside, and a desperate hand-to-hand fight ensued, which ended only when all the desperadoes had been killed or disabled. Teach had stationed a Negro near the powder maga¬ zine with orders to blow up the sloop if the enemy captured it, but a prisoner, left in the hold the night before, overcame him before he 2 « Ibid., VI, 968. 21 Ibid., IV, 61. 22 On one occasion Teach brought in a ship with a cargo of sugar and cocoa. Landing the goods at a remote inlet, he applied the torch to the vessel (Public Record Office, London, CO5-1318, No. 4) . SB Down to the Sea in Ships could apply the torch. Teach himself was killed, with nine of his men, while nine others, all severely wounded, were taken. 23 When the news of this engagement spread throughout the Albemarle and Pamlico region, the praises of Spotswood resounded in every home. But no¬ where was the rejoicing greater than at Norfolk, for the breaking up of the pirate nest at Ocracoke meant the reappearance of Carolina sloops in Elizabeth River, and Carolina goods in the local warehouses. In the meanwhile, with improved roads a brisk land trade had sprung up between North Carolina and Virginia. There w r ere two main highways leading from northeastern Carolina to Norfolk, one on each side of the Dismal Swamp. Beginning at Edenton, the first went due north through the Chowan precinct, skirted the swamp on the west, and reached the Nansemond near the site of Suffolk. 24 From that point to Norfolk the road had to make a sweeping detour, pass¬ ing around the head of the Western Branch, touching the northern edge of Dismal Swamp, passing over the upper reaches of the South¬ ern Branch at Great Bridge, then turning northeast to Kemps, thence around the Eastern Branch and Broad Creek by way of Newton’s Creek, to enter Norfolk from the north on Church Street. For persons on horseback, or on foot, a much shorter route was available. After leaving the Nansemond River they could turn off to the left, and fol¬ lowing the road to Sayer’s Point, at the mouth of the Western Branch, ferry over to Norfolk. Another route ran from the headwaters of the Western Branch to Crawford’s Point, on the site of Portsmouth, thence by ferry to the county wharf near the market. Major Samuel Boush was running both ferries in 1715, receiving three thousand pounds of tobacco annually for his services. 25 The Assembly fixed the fee, whether for passengers or horses, at 6 d . 26 Isaac Weld, who visited Norfolk in 1795, states that to cross the Virginia ferries was “a most irksome piece of business.” ‘‘There is not one in six where the boats are good and well manned, and it is necessary to employ great circumspection in order to guard against accidents. ... I heard of numberless instances of horses being drowned, killed, and having their legs broken, by getting in and out of boats.” 27 The second route from North Carolina, like the first, began at Edenton. From that point it ran northeast to cross the Perquimans 23 ibid. 24 Moseley, New and Correct Map of North Carolina. 25 Norfolk County Deed Book, No. 9, p. 108, from rear. 26 Hening, Statutes at Large, VI, 14. 27 Weld, Travels through North America, I, 169. 34 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port River at Vewby’s ferry, thence through Pasquotank precinct, and over the Pasquotank River at Sawyer’s ferry, touched the northern part of Currituck precinct, and then proceeded north to Great Bridge, 28 where it joined the road from the west side of the swamp. In the early days the North West River, because of the swampy nature of the adjacent ground, proved a serious obstacle. But in 1719 the inhabitants of Currituck at their own expense threw a bridge over the stream, at “Samuel Ballance’s old landing.” 29 The Norfolk county authorities were careful to keep these arteries of trade in good repair, appointing surveyors for the various districts, 30 inspecting bridges, and fining citi¬ zens who neglected to work their allotted days on the “King’s road.” 31 The scene at Great Bridge, where the routes from both sides of the Dismal Swamp converged, must have been an interesting one. 32 Here there were two long causeways across the marshy ground on either side of the Southern Branch, connected by a wooden bridge over the stream itself. On the southern causeway where were clustered warehouses and a wharf or two, one could see two-wheeled carts from the Dismal Swamp, or the Poscaty region, or even from Currituck, unloading their barrels of tar, turpentine or pitch, or their bundles of shingles, or hogsheads of tobacco. 33 Beside the wharves a number of small vessels took on their cargoes, or prepared for the trip up the crooked Southern Branch to town. From the bridge itself came the clatter of hundreds of hoofs as the Carolina herdsmen drove across their cattle, or sheep, or hogs, on the way to the Norfolk slaughterhouses. Some were from the Currituck, others from Chowan, still others, no doubt, from the Roanoke River, eighty miles away. It was computed by Governor Barrington in 1733 that fifty thousand fat hogs, almost the whole num¬ ber of fatted oxen in Albemarle county, and many horses, cows and calves, were driven into Virginia annually. 34 That most of these found their way to Norfolk is certain, as it was the only town in eastern Virginia worthy of the name. 35 When the herds reached Nor¬ folk, they were driven to the slaughterhouses, probably on the out¬ skirts of the town, where they were butchered. 36 The Carolinians com- 28 Moseley, New and Correct Map of North Carolina. 29 Norfolk County Deed Book, No. 10, p. 78a, from rear. 30 Ibid., No. g, p. 156. 31 Ibid., p. 125. 32 Byrd, History of the Dividing Line, p. 19. 33 Jarvis Manuscript, Library of Congress, pp. 14-18. 34 Colonial Records of North Carolina, III, 621. 35 Suffolk was laid out as a town only in 1742, and Portsmouth ten years later. Hening, Statutes at Large, V, igg; VI, 265. 36 Norfolk Council Orders, 1736^8, p. 216. 35 Down to the Sea in Ships plained loudly of the lowness of prices. “He receives pay only for the meat after it is slaughtered,” it was said. “For the hide, tallow, etc., the butcher pays him nothing. The same is the case with hogs. They are taken to Virginia, slaughtered, salted up, and exported and sold as Virginia pork.” 37 The complaints of the North Carolina tobacco grow¬ ers were also bitter. Our tobacco is generally taken to Norfolk, wrote Bishop Spangenberg, in 1752, where “it is examined by the inspectors . . . all that is merchantable is selected—the remainder is burnt. The Virginia merchants . . . pay the Carolina farmers what they please for their tobacco.” 38 So it was in very bad humor that the Carolinian, whether cattle- raiser or tobacco grower, made his purchases for the return journey. We may imagine him, picking his way through the mud of Main Street to visit the shops, or bidding for slaves at the market on the wharves. If he has left his cart at Great Bridge, he loads his purchases, whether Negroes or European manufactured goods, upon a hired boat, and starts off up the Southern Branch. If he has come on horseback, driv¬ ing stock from Chowan or Perquimans, he reduces the distance by tak¬ ing the ferry to Sayer’s Point. In 1733 Governor Barrington estimated Virginia’s imports from Carolina, including hogs, cattle, pork, tar, pitch, tobacco, deerskins, beaver furs, hides, tallow, wax, feathers, beef, butter and cheese, at £50,ooo. 39 This trade not only supplied Norfolk merchants with goods for exportation and opened a market for their imports, but it gave life to many local employments. The Carolinians filled the ordinaries, 40 kept the butchers busy, and patronized the local shopkeepers. It was they whom the coopers had to thank for the steady demand for barrels, 41 the skinwrights for their hides, 42 the candlemakers for their tallow. 43 The Carolina goods did not remain long on the Norfolk wharves, for a ready market was at hand. The mouth of the Chesapeake was considerably closer to the West Indies than was New England, and far closer than Great Britain. The Norfolk schooners could go all the way to Barbados, or Nevis, or Antigua and back, while a sugar ship was making the long passage to Glasgow or Bristol. Since, too, the islands 37 Colonial Records of North Carolina, V. 1. 38 Ibid. 39 Ibid., Ill, 621. 40 Norfolk County Deed Book, No. g, p. 114, from rear. 41 Ibid., No. 12, p. 329. 42 Ibid., p. 320. 43 Public Record Office, London, Gooch to Board of Trade, 1742. 36 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port needed Norfolk wares, and the Norfolk merchants found it easy to dispose of the West Indian sugar, molasses, and rum, an interchange was inevitable. So early as 1697 Governor Andros reported that the Virginians were exporting to Barbados pork, beef, corn, staves, and a little tobacco. 44 However, in those early days of her history Norfolk had to compete with the New Englanders for the carrying trade from Virginia to the West Indies. The enterprising Yankees swarmed in the Virginia rivers and creeks, bartering off West Indian goods for corn, beans, bacon, and even live hogs. 45 In 1740 the Orataro, from Rhode Island, sailed for Virginia from Barbados, with a cargo of rum, mo¬ lasses, and brown sugar, which she sought to exchange for wheat, corn, beeswax, leather, pork, beef, and staves. 46 The Northerners were unpopular in Virginia not only because of their close bargaining, but because of their trading with the slaves for stolen goods. 47 This, together with the advantages of direct commerce to the West Indies in Virginia-built vessels, gradually made their visits less frequent, 48 and in 1739 we find William Byrd warning the Virginia merchants to do nothing to bring the Yankees “again amongst us.” 49 That they did come back from time to time is vouched for by Governor Gooch, who reported to the British government in 1741 that Virginia exported to New England, “chiefly in their own vessels, which come to trade here, some pork, beef, corn, tallow, and some hides, pitch, cheese, wooden ware, and a few European goods.” 50 As the New England trade declined, that of Norfolk increased. The commerce of the Norfolk merchants “is chiefly to the West Indies,” wrote William Byrd in 1728, “whither they export abundance of beef, | pork, flour, and lumber. The worst of it is, they contribute much to- [ wards debauching the country by importing abundance of rum.” 51 In 1742 Virginia exported to the West Indies beef and pork worth £24,- 000 and corn worth £5,000, together with considerable quantities of 44 Public Record Office, London, CO5-1359, p. 40. 45 John J. Babson, History of the Town of Gloucester (Gloucester, Mass., i860), p. 384. 46 W. B. Weeden, Economic and Social History of New England (Boston, 1890), II, 906. 47 Babson, History of the Town of Gloucester, p. 384. 48 Ibid. 49 Virginia Magazine of History and Biography, XXXVI, 359. 50 Public Record Office, London, Gooch to Board of Trade, Aug. 6, 1741. 51 Byrd, History of the Dividing Line, pp. 19-20. “A great number of vessels are fitted out there,” it was stated in the London Magazine of July, 1746, “to trade to the northward and the West Indies.” 37 Down to the Sea in Ships bread, flour, hogshead and barrel staves, peas, shingles and candles, 52 taking in return “rum, sugar, molasses, money, some salt, indigo, pimento, ginger, coffee, and cocoa.’’ 53 The Norfolk skipper who ventured out on the Atlantic in his schooner or brigantine or ship, 54 perhaps of 150 tons, perhaps no more than 30, 55 took his life in his hands. After the Negro workmen had brought the cargo on board and the sailors had made loose from the wharf, the vessel slipped down the river with the tide. If there was a favorable breeze in Hampton Roads, she turned her prow toward the Capes, and in a few hours was out in the Atlantic. Here she tacked to the south, and with good fortune arrived four or five weeks later at St. Christopher, or Antigua, or Nevis, or Barbados. Once safely in port, the skipper set about disposing of his goods. If they had been assigned to one or more West Indian merchants, he had nothing to do but un¬ load; but if the Norfolk exporter trusted him to find a purchaser, his difficulties would be far greater. If the New Englanders had come in ahead of him to flood the market with their provisions, he might find it necessary to hoist sail, to try his luck in another island. Not infrequently West Indian merchants wrote to the Norfolk ex¬ porters telling the state of the market in the islands, and giving advice as to shipments. In April, 1764, Ferguson Murdock suggested to Niel Jamieson as an ideal cargo 1000 bushels of wheat, 1000 bushels of corn, 100 barrels of flour, six to eight barrels of beeswax, 40 to 45 barrels of pork, besides rice, white oak staves, pine boards, and tar. 56 In September, 1769, one of Jamieson’s masters reported from Antigua that, having heard of a hurricane in San Domingo, he had visited that island with his cargo of bread, pork, flour, and corn. But upon his ar¬ rival he found that an immense quantity of provisions had come from the neighboring islands, driving prices down. Thereupon he went to Grenada, where he again met disappointment, and in the end was com¬ pelled to land his goods, and sell them himself at retail. Usually, however, Virginia goods could be disposed of at a good 52 “The town of Norfolk and James river have almost wholly engrossed the West Indian and grain trade,’’ wrote Governor Fauquier in 1764. Public Record Office, London, Fauquier to the Board of Trade, Jan. 30, 1764. 53 Ibid., Gooch to the Board of Trade, 1742. 54 Grenlees and Hardie, Ledger, Office of Clerk of Corporation Court of Norfolk. 55 The schooner Ranger, of 40 tons, with a crew of six men, the snow Duchess of Douglas, sixteen men, and the brigantine Prince of Wales, of 120 tons burden, were active in the trade between Norfolk and the West Indies (ibid.) . 56 Papers of Niel Jamieson (Library of Congress), p. 701. 38 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port profit. The sugar planters needed corn, pork, bread, and peas for their slaves; lumber for building; staves, butts, and hoops for their hogs¬ heads; pitch, tar, and turpentine for their ships. 57 If, at times, the skip¬ per had to sell at a loss, he trusted that his return voyage would bring better luck. The Norfolk merchants gave him careful directions as to his purchases in the islands, adding at times to the usual order of rum, sugar, and molasses, instructions to take on a few boxes of limes, coffee, citron, or cocoa. Or, if the tobacco planters of the Potomac or the James were making money, he had to be on the lookout for a con¬ signment of slaves. 58 The skippers were not overfond of the slave trade, for many of the Africans died at sea, and others were unruly. One, on a voyage from Jamaica to Norfolk with a cargo of slaves in 1761, discovered that the Negroes had been breaking into the hogs¬ heads of rum and sugar, and also making way with the store of pro¬ visions. Fearing starvation, he had several of the captives whipped. When this had no effect, he made “an example of one of the said slaves, who was a most notorious offender, by having him hanged at the yard’s end in the sight of the said slaves.” 59 In times of war the Norfolk merchants suffered severely from the depredations of privateers. The British government, when danger threatened, usually sent out a frigate or two to convoy the Chesapeake tobacco fleet and the West Indian sugar fleet across the Atlantic. But the vessels plying between the islands and the colonies on the continent had to trust to their own vigilance. During the Seven Years’ War, masters often accompanied the convoy from Antigua or Nevis far out to sea, and then, turning northwest, headed for the Chesapeake. In this way they avoided the Cuban and Dominican waters, where the French and Spanish privateers were most numerous. 60 On the return voyage, however, being unprotected, many were taken. The Norfolk owners often armed their schooners, but this did not make them a match for the privateers. It was in September, 1757, that the schooner Catherine, bound for Antigua with corn, pork, and lumber, sighted a sloop bearing down on her. Although she spread all 57 The sloop Two Friends, bound for Antigua from Virginia in 1758, carried 100 barrels of corn, 48 barrels of pork, one hogshead of tallow, and 9,000 shingles. The sloop was valued at £530, Virginia currency, the cargo at £133. The brigantine Jenny, bound also for Antigua, had a cargo of 52 barrels of pork, 12 barrels of tallow, 13 casks of bread, 1,722 bushels of corn, 736 staves, and 25,000 shingles (Grenlees and Hardie, Ledger, pp. 11, ua, 33). 58 ‘‘Is there a cargo or two of slaves expected into Norfolk?” wrote one Hector Ross to Niel Jamieson, in 1766. "Some of us here would like a parcel if cheap.” 59 Grenlees and Hardie, Ledger, p. 109a. 60 Ibid., pp. 86, 109a, 124. 39 Down to the Sea in Ships sail, the sloop crept up, and at last was close enough to open fire. The Catherine resisted bravely for an hour and a half, but eventually struck her colors, and was taken to Guadeloupe as a prize of war. 61 Among the vessels captured on their way from Virginia to the West Indies were the sloop Nancy; the sloop Polly; the brigantine Jenny; the sloop Two Friends; the schooner Dinwiddie, owned by Zachariah Hutchings, of Norfolk; the sloop Bacca; the schooner Peggy; the snow Dutchess of Douglas; the schooner Ranger, owned by John Thompson, of Virginia; the sloops Molly, Sally, Pineapple, Kingbird, and Su¬ sanna; and the schooners Betty, Champ, and Dane . 62 The sloop Fanny, of 100 tons, which sailed for Barbados in 1758, was peculiarly unfortunate. Encountering a French frigate, she was overtaken and captured. After prolonged bargaining, John Anthony, the master, agreed to pay a ransom of £200, and was permitted to proceed. But Barbados was still a long way off, and the route was strewn with dangers. Once more the Fanny was captured, this time by a privateer, who brought her in as a prize to Guadeloupe. Anthony escaped “by stilth in the night,” to report the double loss to Charles Thomas, the Norfolk owner of the sloop, but the crew long suffered in the Guadeloupe prison. 63 The treatment of captured American sailors by the French and Spaniards was often harsh. When the Virginia sloop Friendship, bound for St. Christopher, was taken three leagues off the island of St. Martin’s, the men were put in a long boat, and told to row ashore. 64 The crew of another captured vessel, after remaining for months in prison at Cape Francois, were sent to Denan Castle, in France. “Quite stripped of our clothing,” they wrote, “short of provisions,” disheart¬ ened by “bad usage and confinement,” they despaired of getting home. 65 The suffering was not all on one side, however, for the colonists themselves sometimes fitted out privateers to prey upon the enemy’s commerce. In 1739 Governor Gooch announced in the Virginia Ga¬ zette that he was prepared to issue writs of marque and reprisal on the Spaniard. Upon which the editor remarked that the Virginia merchants who had so long complained of their losses now had an opportunity for revenge. “No doubt,” he added, “there are men of spirit in Vir- 61 Ibid. pp. 6, 6a. 62 Ibid. 63 Ibid., p. 40a. 6 i Ibid., p. 26a. 65 Ibid., p. 73. 40 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port ginia who will do so.” 66 During the Seven Years’ War a merchant named Sprowle was among those who sent out privateers from Nor¬ folk. 67 That others followed his example is shown by the statement that at the outbreak of the Revolution Norfolk was unarmed save for “some cannon belonging to some gentlemen who had fitted out priva¬ teers in the last war. 68 The perils of the West India trade were by no means confined to the activities of the privateers, for the skippers had to reckon also with the Atlantic storms. It was in 1760 that the schooner Lancastershire Witch, of Norfolk, on her way home from Jamaica, struck on the Coloradoes rocks, thirty-five leagues from Havana, and went to pieces. The crew brought off nineteen hogsheads of rum and some coffee and ginger, which they placed aboard the ship Kingston, bound for Phila¬ delphia. Unfortunately a gale overtook this vessel, carried one mast overboard, beat in some of the hatches, and threatened to send her to the bottom. Some days later on sighting a ship on its way to South Carolina from Quebec, both crew and refugees went on board her, leaving the Kingston a derelict. But their deliverers, being short of water and provisions, were compelled to send them ashore in a long boat thirty-five leagues off the coast of North Carolina, where the ex¬ hausted company landed shortly afterward on Shallote island, near Cape Fear. 69 The Norfolk merchants seem to have traded extensively with the French West Indies during the first third of the century. Whereas the British sugar islands were too small to absorb the exports from the English continental colonies, the French islands found that Canada could not supply all their needs. In other words, both the British and French colonies were overbalanced, the first on the continental side, the other on the side of the West Indies. Thus by international trade alone could an equilibrium be established. Consequently cheap sugar and molasses at Guadeloupe, or Martinique, or San Domingo, and the excellent market there for provisions and lumber, made an interchange with Virginia inevitable. The British government at first sanctioned the trade, with the understanding that it must not continue in case of war with France. But it was in war times that profits were greatest, 66 Virginia Gazette, Aug. 31, 1739, photostat copy, Library of Congress. 67 Journals of the House of Burgesses, 1758-1761, p. 296. 68 Peter Force, American Archives, Fourth Series (Washington, 1837-1853), III, p. 1191. 69 Grenlees and Hardie, Ledger, p. 76a. 4i Down to the Sea in Ships and the colonial merchants did not hesitate to evade the law. Loading their vessels with corn, pork, and beef, and securing clearance papers for Jamaica, they often headed for the neutral islands of St. Thomas and Curasao, where they exchanged their cargoes for French sugar and molasses. 70 In January, 1710, the Board of Trade got word that the Virginians were supplying the French in this way, and ordered Gov¬ ernor Spotswood to put an end to the illegal traffic. 71 The planters of the British West Indies objected to the trade with the French islands, whether in times of war or peace, and united in a petition to Parliament to put an end to it. The continental colonies, on the other hand, represented that to deprive them of this market would bring ruin to their merchants, without in any way benefiting the British sugar planters, and for months the Board of Trade was bombarded with petitions and counterpetitions. Virginia’s interest was great enough to draw a formal protest from Governor Gooch, and a “representation from the Council.’’ 72 However, the West Indians had their way, for in 1733 Parliament passed the so-called Molasses Act, placing prohibitive duties on molasses and sugar brought into the British colonies from the foreign islands. 73 The act seems to have been universally disregarded. Jamaica became a clearinghouse between the continental colonies and the French is¬ lands, vessels leaving Kingston with papers indicating a full cargo, when in fact their holds contained nothing but empty hogsheads. They then headed for San Domingo, filled up with sugar and molasses, and set out for New England or the Chesapeake. 74 Governor Gooch, the easy-going Governor of Virginia, denied all knowledge of this traffic, 75 but it seems certain that the Norfolk merchants participated in it. The very year that Gooch made his report, a ship came in at Ocracoke inlet from Guernsey, laden with French wines, brandy, and woolens, all pro¬ hibited under the Navigation Acts; they were transferred to a colonial vessel and taken to Virginia by way of Pamlico and Albemarle Sounds. 76 In the infancy of Norfolk, few of the merchants owned ocean- 70 Frank W. Pitman, The Development of the British West Indies (New Haven, 1917), pp. 189-195. 71 Public Record Office, London, CO5-1363, pp. 39-43. 72 Ibid., CO5-4, pp. 204-207. 73 Pitman, British West Indies, pp. 242-270. 74 Pitman, British West Indies, p. 278. 75 Public Record Office, London, Gooch to Board of Trade, May 24, 1734. 76 Colonial Records of North Carolina, IV, 169-170. 42 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port going vessels. The materials for shipbuilding were at hand—tar, pitch, turpentine, rosin—but labor was dear, and seafaring men few. 77 Of the twenty sloops and brigantines which William Byrd saw at the Nor¬ folk wharves in 1728, it is probable that not five were built or owned in the colony. 78 Two years later there were but sixteen sloops, six brigantines, and one ship belonging to all Virginia. In the next dec- cade, however, shipbuilding made appreciable advances, and Gover¬ nor Gooch could state, in 1739, that sloops were often built in Vir¬ ginia, to be disposed of in the West Indies. 79 The inventory of John Tucker, in 1736, shows that this Norfolk merchant owned three sloops, one of them, 40 feet long, valued at £230.®° Captain Nathaniel Ta¬ tum, of Norfolk, owned the ship Caesar, worth £625, and the sloop Indian Creek, worth £25- 81 Yet in 1742 four ships, six or seven brigantines, tw T o or three snows, seven or eight schooners, and five or six sloops, constituted the entire Virginia merchant marine. 82 In the next tw'o decades, the expansion of trade so stimulated shipbuilding that in 1764 Virginians owmed 102 seagoing vessels, totaling 6,168 tons, and manned by 827 sailors. 83 -' It is certain that shipbuilding was engaged in actively in or near Nor¬ folk from an early date. So early as 1736 the sloop Industry, “lately built at Norfolk,” was taking on tobacco on the James for London. Some of the first to take up lots in the town were ship carpenters, 84 wdiile the numbers in this trade steadily increased. In 1761 the firm of John Glasford & Co., of Glasgow, contracted with Smith Sparrow's for a ship built at Norfolk, 85 60 feet long, 22 feet w'ide, 10 feet in the lower hold, and 4 feet between decks. The charge was 50 shillings the ton. 86 Upon the arrival of the fleet from Great Britain, especially after bad w’eather, the Norfolk ship carpenters w'ere kept busy refitting dam¬ aged vessels. When a ship limped up the Elizabeth, her cargo w T as un¬ loaded, her sails and rigging stored in some near-by loft, and her crew lodged at the various ordinaries. She was then conducted to shallow water and careened by the aid of fall and blocks. Next a lighter, with 77 Public Record Office, London, 005-1359, pp. 40-41. 78 Byrd, History of the Dividing Line, pp. 19, 20. 79 Public Record Office, London, Gooch to Board of Trade, July 13, 1739. 80 Norfolk County Deed Book, H, pp. 32-59. 81 Ibid., pp. 28-31. 82 Public Record Office, London, Gooch to Board of Trade, 1742. 83 Ibid., Fauquier to Board of Trade, January 30, 1764. 84 Norfolk County Deed Book, No. 12, pp. 233, 274, and No. 9, pp. 204-5. 85 Papers of Niel Jamieson, p. 43. 86 Ibid., p. 295. 43 Down to the Sea in Ships its steaming kettles of pitch or tar, was run up beside her bottom, so that the Negro workers could caulk up every leaky seam. After this the various groups of artisans had their turn, for glaziers were needed to replace the broken glass, iron-workers to fit in new bolts, coopers to repair damaged hogsheads, sailmakers to patch the torn canvas, carpenters to make new hatches or replace masts or spars which had gone overboard. 87 It was a sad time for the owner and the master, but for the Norfolk workmen it meant full employment at high wages. When the good ship George, of Glasgow, came up the river in 1762 with a leaky hold, 88 she had to remain for 43 days. In addition to the cost of oakum, pitch, tar, and nails, her master paid £8 for wharfage, £12 for storage for the cargo, £2.12 for a lighter, £17. 16. 3 for Negro hire, £12 for rum with which to refresh the workmen, £12 for bread, £11 for a ship carpenter, and £9. 8. 6 y 2 for cooperage. 89 In the meanwhile, the increasing size of the English tobacco ships, together with the gradual diversification of Virginia and Maryland ag¬ riculture, were making Norfolk the entrepot for the entire Chesapeake region. It was a matter of no great difficulty for a vessel of sixty or seventy tons to move from plantation to plantation up the rivers and creeks, but for a ship of 250 tons it was a tedious and dangerous opera¬ tion. Moreover, the British owners objected to taking on their cargoes piecemeal. It was more economical to have the tobacco brought down the rivers to a point near the coast, where the vessels could load in one operation, and start on their return voyage to England or Scotland with the least possible delay. Norfolk was ideally situated for this trade, so the merchants thought, because of its ample harbor and its prox¬ imity to the ocean. It is true that many of the planters on the upper James considered the distance too great, and some on the Potomac hesitated to trust their frail shallops to the mercy of the Chesapeake, so that many tobacco ships went for their cargoes directly into the York, or the Rappahannock, or the James, without stopping at the little port on the Elizabeth. But others, in increasing numbers, found it profitable as well as convenient, to make Norfolk their final destina¬ tion. 87 “The inhabitants consist of merchants, ship carpenters, and other useful artisans,” declared William Byrd in 1728. History of the Dividing Line, pp. 19-20. [ 88 Grenlees and Hardie, Ledger, p. 174a. 89 Ibid., Loose sheet (see pp. 19-22). Among the well-to-do artisans living in Norfolk in 1775 were John Gardner, Joyce Edwards, Samuel Danby, Willis Bramble, Josiah Deane, and Christopher Busten, ship carpenters; James Gay and Talbot Thompson, sailmakers; Samuel Blows, George Jamieson, and John Williamson, blacksmiths (Stewart, History of Norfolk County, pp. 363-367) . 44 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port During the middle decades of the eighteenth century many Virginia farmers began to devote a part of their acreage to wheat and com, and the market for wheat and corn was in the West Indies, not Great Britain. To find vessels loading for Antigua or Jamaica they had to come to Norfolk. 90 So it became a common occurrence to see shallops or even sloops, laden with barrels of flour, wheat and corn, winding down the rivers to the bay and across Hampton Roads to the Elizabeth. And when this traffic was well established, it was not long before it began to embrace tobacco. The Norfolk merchants had factors on all the great rivers, who bargained with the farmers for their produce, and at times it was not possible for them to secure a full boatload of corn or wheat. They had to roll on a few hogsheads of tobacco to make the trip to Norfolk worthwhile. Tobacco began to pile up on the wharves there, English ships came in to take it off, and a trade with Great Britain developed, which for decades rivaled that to the West Indies. Among the Norfolk merchants who traded extensively with Virginia and Maryland points, was Niel Jamieson. Connected with the firm of John Glasford 8c Co., of Glasgow, he possessed all the business insight and thrift for which Scotchmen are noted. One of his agents described him as the “most perfect master of trade in the bay.” 91 From Cabin Point, in Surry County, Jamieson secured large quantities of corn, wheat, peas, pork, and tobacco, through his factor, Adam Fleming; 92 from Maryland he got wheat, iron, and tobacco; 93 from Petersburg flour and corn; 94 from Falmouth, on the Rappahannock, tobacco, but¬ ter, and beeswax; 95 from Alexandria flour and herring; 96 from Rich¬ mond, wheat; 97 from Fredericksburg, corn and pig iron. To Suffolk, which now enjoyed a trade with the Chowan region, he sent regularly for pitch, tar, and turpentine. 98 In short, his sloops could be seen in 90 In 1739 William Byrd wrote to a Norfolk merchant warning him against purchasing Maryland wheat and neglecting that of the Virginia growers. If you leave our wheat on our hands, he said, we will have to sell it to the New Englanders, in exchange for the “West India commodities,” which now we receive from you (Virginia Magazine of History and Biography, XXXVI, 395). 91 Papers of Niel Jamieson, p. 2407. 92 Ibid., pp. 2475, 2875. 99 Ibid., pp. 2959, 3379. 94 Ibid., p. 964. 95 Ibid., p. 2866. 96 Ibid., pp. 2144, 2938. 97 Ibid., pp. 2142, 2184. 98 "Turpentine of late comes down very slow,” one of Jamieson’s Suffolk factors wrote in 1766. “The people are busy with their crops.” 45 Down to the Sea in Ships every river and almost every creek of tidewater Virginia and Maryland. Jamieson’s warehouses in Norfolk and Gosport presented a busy scene. Side by side with barrels of flour and hogsheads of tobacco were casks of Jamaica rum and Antigua molasses; boxes of manufac¬ tured goods from England or Scotland; wine from Lisbon or Cadiz, or Madeira; salt from Turks Island; barrels of coffee, pimento, chocolate, spices, cocoa nuts, from various parts of the world. At his wharves were sloops or brigantines making ready to leave for the West Indies, or perhaps a two-hundred-ton ship just in from London or Glasgow. Seated on one side one might see a dozen or more slaves just in from the Guinea coast, watching with wondering eyes, while their more civilized fellow Africans worked busily loading or unloading the car¬ goes. When the sloops went back to Cabin Point, or Osborne’s warehouse, or Falmouth, they took with them a wide variety of European goods— Irish linens, canvas, Holland thread, broadcloth, shalloon, fustian, druggets, silk crepe, worsted hose, pillows, handkerchiefs, buttons, gloves, pins; guns, powder, and shot; hoes, scissors, fishhooks, scales, axes, feather beds, grindstones, hour glasses, chafing dishes, spinning wheels, spoons, knives, forks; pewter plates, basins, porringers, and candlesticks; tables, chairs, cupboards, chests." Piled in with these goods were often West Indian rum and molasses, Madeira wine, and a few barrels of salt. It was not unusual for British masters to put in at Norfolk, and there hire shallops and sloops to go up the rivers for a cargo of tobacco. After these little craft had flitted from store to store, or from plantation to plantation, they returned to the Elizabeth and tied up to the ship, where the crew hoisted the hogsheads on board. 100 The trade with Great Britain was, of course, the foundation of the economic life of Virginia. In 1742 exports to the mother country comprised £180,000 in tobacco; £4500 in pig-iron; £2670 in pitch, tar, and turpentine; £2000 in skins. 101 An increasingly large share of this trade left from Norfolk. “The seat of trade is altered,” wrote Gov¬ ernor Fauquier, in January, 1764, “the northern part of the colony employing fewer vessels than heretofore, the southern many more.” 102 At a very early date the stores of the Norfolk merchants were filled with European goods, which unquestionably came directly to them 99 Norfolk County Deed Book, No. 9. Inventory of Matthew Godfrey, pp. 639-641. 100 Grenlees and Hardie, Ledger, p. 77a. 101 Public Record Office, London, Gooch to Board of Trade. 102 Ibid., Fauquier to Board of Trade, Jan. 30, 1764. 46 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port in British ships. 103 We know that the ship Moseley was trading from Norfolk to Great Britain in 1736, 104 the Thomas and Sarah, in 175s, 105 the ship Peggy, in 1766, 106 and the ship Loyal Hunter in 1762, and that in 1770 the firm of Balfour and Barraud, of Norfolk, advertised themselves as importers from London, Bristol, and Glasgow. The Vir¬ ginia and Norfolk Intelligencer, for February 16, 1775, lists the ships Elizabeth, from Bristol, the Betsy, from London, and the Hodge, from Liverpool, as having just entered. We gain an insight into the commerce of Norfolk from the vessels in her harbor and in Hampton Roads, on December 30, 1775. In addi¬ tion to Dunmore’s fleet were the sloop Christian, of Norfolk, bound for Glasgow with wheat and staves; the sloop Agatha, from Grenada to Norfolk with forty-five hogsheads of rum; the brig Cornet, from Glas¬ gow to Norfolk with dry goods; the schooner Peggy, from St. Vincent’s to Norfolk with rum and sugar; the sloops Molly and Swallow, from Turks Island for Norfolk with salt. 107 The Norfolk merchants were alert, enterprising, close-bargaining businessmen. “The two cardinal virtues that make a place thrive,^_iru_ dustrv and frugality , are seen here in perfection,” wrote William Byrd in 172s. 108 No doubt the spirit of thrift was a part of Norfolk’s Scotch inheritance, for many of her leading merchants came from Glasgow. John Joyce, who visited the place in 1785, went so far as to state that before the Revolution the inhabitants “were almost all Scotch.” 109 Some came over as agents for Glasgow firms, and after ac¬ cumulating a little capital, opened business on their own account. They might start by shipping a few barrels of pork or corn to the West Indies, or bringing in a cask or two of rum. If things went well they would broaden their operations, until eventually they could boast of their own warehouse and wharf on the Elizabeth, their own stores on the James or the York, their own sloops for carriage in the rivers and the bay, perhaps their own brigantine or ship for the voy¬ ages to Jamaica or Antigua. Others migrated from Scotland as clerks, 103 Norfolk County Deed Book, No. 9. Inventory of Matthew Godfrey, 1717, pp. 639-641. 104 Virginia Gazette, Jan. 21, 1736. 105 Grenlees and Hardie, Ledger, p. 19. 106 Virginia Gazette, Jan. 6, 1766. 107 American Archives, Fourth Series, IV, 577. 108 Among the early merchants were Samuel Smith, George Mason, Robert Tucker, Lewis Conner, Peter Malbone, Lawrence Smith, Thomas Nelson, Samuel Roush, John Phripp, Nathaniel Tatum, John Hutchings, Anthony Walke, Mason Calvert, and John Taylor. 109 Virginia Magazine of History and Biography, XXIII, 407-414. 47 Down to the Sea in Ships with letters of introduction to the Norfolk firms, hoping to learn the details of the American trade in the offices along the water front. These too, in many cases, because of ability and industry, became well- to-do merchants. The inventories of the Norfolk merchants, even in the first part of the eighteenth century, show how extensive were their operations. When John Tucker died in 1736 his warehouses contained European goods to the value of £469. 4. oi/ 2 , including woolens, sheeting, silks, ticking; thread, tape, ribbons, laces; razors, lancets, combs, buckles; Bibles, primers, horn books, writing paper; rugs and blankets; dishes, basins, and plates of pewter; hatchets, chisels, hammers, locks, saws; hour-glasses, kettles and compasses of brass. His three sloops and one shallop were appraised at £445. His stock of Madeira wine totalled £6go, his rum £851. 14. 1, his sugar £223. 15. 434. He had European goods yet unpacked worth £239. 19. 10; wares at “Mr. Mason’s store” worth £2014. 18. 1114; he owned six slaves worth £147. 10; 88 ounces and 13 pennyweight of gold wedges worth £310. 5. 6; and cash to the amount of £2443. 12. ii/g. 110 The close of the colonial period found Norfolk prosperous, pro¬ gressive, full of hope. In less than a century the town had grown from an insignificant village to the most important place in Virginia. Its population, at most a few hundred in 1700, was estimated at six thousand in 1775. 111 At first merely the port of southeastern Virginia and northeastern Carolina, it became in time the chief point of ship¬ ment for all tidewater Virginia. Its spacious harbor was crowded with vessels, its streets with busy purchasers, its wharves and warehouses with all kinds of wares; its citizens were never without employment, in its shipyards were always the frames of sloops, schooners, or ships. Its citizens had every right to look forward to a future of continued growth and prosperity, which would make it the queen of the Chesa¬ peake, the chief port of Maryland, Virginia, and North Carolina. They could not foresee that in a few years the town of which they were so proud would be but a heap of smouldering ruins, its people scat¬ tered, its leading merchants disgraced, its commerce prostrated. 110 Norfolk County Deed Book, H, pp. 32-59. 111 Johann D. Schoepf, Travels in the Confederation, pp. 98-100. CHAPTER THREE The Maelstrom of Revolution Xhe accession of George III to the throne marked the culmina¬ tion of a conflict which had long been in progress between the British government and the colonies. Ever since the meeting of the first representative assembly, at Jamestown, in 1619, the colonists had exercised almost complete control over internal taxation. This proved an effective weapon. In imitation of the House of Commons, who thwarted the king at every turn by threatening to cut off his revenues, the colonial assemblies mastered his representatives in America by holding tight to the purse-strings. In internal affairs the colonies had become practically self-governing republics before the middle of the eighteenth century. When, then, the failure to reapportion representation in Great Britain thrust into power a group of reactionaries, a clash with America was inevitable. To George III, to his prime minister, George Grenville, to the entire Tory faction, the authority exercised by the assemblies seemed to threaten, not only British control in the colonies, but the foundations of conservatism in England itself. So they set to work to strengthen the hands of the governors. T he obvious, if rather dangerous, way to do this, was to supply them with funds for the payment of their salaries and for the expenses of their governments by taxing the colonies by act of Parliament. The changed temper of the British government was not at first apparent to the Americans. When Grenville forced through the so- called Sugar Act, they did not take alarm. “England has always con¬ trolled our commerce,” they said, “this is just one more troublesome regulation. Perhaps like the Molasses Act, it will not be strictly en¬ forced.” But Grenville intended that it should be enforced. Revenue 49 The Maelstrom of Revolution vessels were sent over to guard the coasts, and customs officers were ordered to proceed against offenders. Since the old duty of 6 d. a gal¬ lon on molasses, if actually collected, would put a complete stop to the trade to the French West Indies, the new duty was fixed at 3 d. a gal¬ lon. The colonists suddenly awoke to the unpleasant realization that a new era had dawned in British imperial control. - Norfolk—w a»-d£epfy--stirred, When several vessels were seized by Edward H. Moseley, surveyor of Elizabeth River, 1 public rage vented itself against one of the informers. This nnfnrtnnp te man, a certain Captain William Smith, was taken by a number of leading citizens, tied to the tail of a cart, and marched off to the county wharf. Here, after treating him t o a mat of tar and feather s, they sent him on th e ducking stool, and pelted him with rotten eggSt-and stones, the mayor himself, the sedate Maximilian Calvert, taking a leading part in the proceedings. They next marched him through “every street in the town,” with two drums beating, returning finally to the market house. There, “all the principal gentlemen of the town being present,” they deliberated his fate, and ended by throwing him “head¬ long over the whar.fT _.H ad n ot a passing boat pulied-him-out of the wa ter, mor e dead than alive, he would have been-drowned. 2 Thus in the early years of the quarrel with the British government, Norfolk was enlisted with a whole heart in the colonial cause. Grenville had touched the life blood of the town when he interfered with the West Indian trade. Norfolk was in bad humor, then, when news arrived of the passage of the Stamp Act. On March 29, 1766, about thirty of the leading citi¬ zens met in one of the taverns to discuss this obnoxious measure, repairing in the evening to the residence of Mayor Calvert, where “they brought daylight on.” It was decided to summon th e Sons of I —T.iherty, and two days later the patriots crowded into the courthouse to draw up resolutions of protest. “We will by all lawful ways . . . defend ourselves in the full enjoyment of, and preserve inviolate to posterity, those inestimable privileges of all free-born British sub¬ jects of being taxed only by representatives of their own choosing. ... If we quietly submit to the execution of the said stamp act, all our claims to civil liberty will be lost, and we and our posterity be- come absolute sla ves.” 3 1 Tyler’s Quarterly, III, 293. 2 William and Mary Quarterly, XXI, 167. 3 Virginia Gazette, April 4, 1766; William and Mary Quarterly, XXI, 49. 50 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port The resentment was changed to rejoicing and intense patriotism, when, six weeks later, the ship Peggy, from Glasgow, glided into the Elizabeth with the tidings that the Stamp Act had been repealed. May 22, 1766, was set aside as a day of thanksgiving. At dawn the people were awakened by the ringing of bells and the discharge of cannon. The courthouse and the borough church were gay with colors, while the ships in the river were beautifully decorated. On the courthouse was a painting, depicting King George, with the imperial diadem over his head, before him prostrate America introduced by Pitt, offering her tribute of duty and gratitude; on one side were Manufacture, Agriculture, and Commerce, raising their drooping heads; on the other Slavery and Oppression with downcast faces. After a sermon by Mr. Davis, and more salutes from the ships, the leading citizens sat down to a dinner, where King George, the Prince of Wales, the Queen and the royal family, were successively toasted. The company then drank to Pitt, “the man who rejoiced on hearing the sound of British liberty echoed back from the forests of America.” With the coming of evening the town was illuminated, and bonfires were kindled, while the common people washed down vows of eternal loyalty to the King with copious drinks of West Indian rum. 4 But rejoicing turned to anger the next year, when it was learned that Parliament, under the leadership of Charles_ Townshend, had imposed new taxes on the colonies. This was followed by a long series of coercive measures—the suspension of the New York Assembly, the sending of troops to Boston, the Tea Act, the Boston Port Bill, the overriding of the Massachusetts charter—and in Norfolk, as else- 1 where, the spirit of resistance grew intense. A Committee of Public Safety was organized to keep alive the spirit of liberty by correspond¬ ing with patriots in other communities. 5 Upon hearing of the closing of Boston Harbor, this body set aside June 1, 1774, as a day of fasting and prayer. To the Boston committee they wrote c “O ur bosoms glow with tender regard for yo u, and we will support youto the limit of our ability.” On June 27, the Norfp lK_citjzfiis^Jn a meeting at the : courthouse, denounced the blocking up of the harbor as a “most tyrannick exercise of unlawful power.” The acts for altering the 4 Virginia Gazette, June 6, 1766. 5 The committee was composed of Matthew Phripp, chairman, William Davies, , secretary, John Boush, Thomas Claiborne, John Hutchings, Joseph Hutchings, , James Holt. Samuel Inglis, Niel Jamieson, John Lawrence, Thomas Newton, Jr., Thomas Ritson, Robert Taylor, and John Taylor (Stewart, History of Norfolk County, p. 35) . The Maelstrom of Revolution Massachusetts constitution and for suppressing riots, they character¬ ized as violent infractions of the solemn chartered rights of the colo¬ nies and melancholy proofs of the despotic spirit of the times. 6 Late in August, 1774, Norfolk was shocked by the news that nine chests of tea, consigned to some leading merchants of the town, had just arrived on the brigantine Mary and Jane. At a meeting in the courthouse, it was unanimously resolved that the tea must be sent back, and a special committee was appointed to urge compliance upon the importers. When the merchants assented readily they re¬ ceived a vote of thanks, and No rfol k’s “t ea-party ” e nded peaceably. 7 In March, 1775, the committee condemne d Jxthru . Brown, a Norfolk merchant, as an enemy of American liberty^for bringing i n a num ber of slaves from Jamaica on the brig Fanny, in violation of the Conti- nentaT Association/A few weeks later Captain Sampson, of the snow Elizabeth, of Bristol, incurred the anger of the committee. Sampson had secured their permission to store a load o f salt b rought in con¬ trary to the Association, pending repairs to his vessel; but when ready to depart, instead of taking on the salt again, he had begun loading with lumber. “We trust the merchants, planters, and skippers of vessels will make him feel their indignation, by breaking off all kinds of deal¬ ings with him,” said the committee. 9 Walter Chambre, of Whitehaven, was also denounced for shipping goods to Norfolk in opposition to the non-importation agreement, 10 while the local firm of Eilbeck, Ross Sc Co. was ordered to send the ship Molly back to England without breaking cargo. 11 It was inevitable, however, that _as the boycott be came more strin- ge nt, discontent and ev enV yiolent opposittorTNhould manifest, itseTT among some oL the- importers. The Norfolk merchants who traded with Glasgow or Liverpool faced ruin if they could not land British goods. “Why should the entire brunt of the attempt to coerce the government fall upon us?” they asked. “It is well enough for the planters to talk about boycotting the English manufacturers, for they can make out with the goods they have on hand. But for the trader it means going out of business.” “Everything is managed by com mit¬ tee,”. one grumbler wrote in January, 1775, “settling and pricing 6 American Archives, Fourth Series, I, 370, 371, 518. 7 Ibid., p. 727. 8 Stewart, History of Norfolk County, p. 352. 9 American Archives, Fourth Series, I, 174. 10 Ibid., Ill, 431. 11 Ibid., II, 897. 52 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port goods, imprinting books, forcing some to sign scandalous concessions, and by such bu llying co nduct they expect to bring the Government to their own terms.” 12 Th e^ Sco tch merchants had no deep and lasting symp athy with the Revo luti onary cause. Many had been swept along with the current during the protests against the Stamp Act or the Townshend meas¬ ures; but when it cam e to interfering w ith commerce, or to taking up arms again st the mother country, r hey qui ckly drew back. There were few among them, Colonel Robert Howe pointed out, “who from local attachments, could feel any strong prepossession in favor of America, or its cause, suspicious friends therefore at best. ... By habit attached to traffic, by interest induced to pursue it,” they could but be hostile to the Continental Association. 13 In December, 1775, one of the officers under Dunmore wrote that the Norfolk Scotch “to a man are well-affected to the [British] government.' 14 There were others, too, who looked upon the Revolution as a “cursed dispute,” certain toTixing^uin—to their business and th eir families. Ir^July, 1775, the Norfolk committee itsel f wrote to -the Virginia Convention, protesting against the restriction placed upon the exportation of provisions. The merchants “hav e made large con¬ tracts for the articles so prohibited,” they pointe d out, “and have no w on hand considerable quantities of those perishable commodities. . . . They have had no opportunity to regulate their trade agreeably to this unexpected resolve, but are suddenly prohibited from commerce in the midst of their engagements.” They asked for delay “ to give time for vessels that are now loading to take in their cargoes,” and to permit the merchant as best he could “to blunt the edge of this sudden calamity.” 15 The Norfolk merchant had to consider that in case of war British privateers would prey upon his West Indian commerce, British frig¬ ates would block up the entrance to Chesapeake Bay, British fleets might even enter Elizabeth River to knock his house about his head. There wa s little amm unition on hand, the_su pply of arm s was in¬ adequate, and the few old cannon in Norfolk which had served on privateers of other times were not mounted, the old fort, on the site of Town Point, had crumbled away. “What could be expected from a 12 Virginia Magazine of History and Biography, III, 157. 13 Richmond College Historical Papers, I, 152-153. 14 American Archives, Fourth Series, IV, 350. 15 Virginia Magazine of History and Biography, XIV, 51. The Maelstrom of Revolution 53 people whose whole property was at stake in their houses, and whose lives were beset on all sides?” 16 Yet the borough government did not begin to waver until British guns were actually leveled at their warehouses and their homes. In 1775 Lord Dunmore broke off communications with the Virginia Assembly, and, fleeing to the British fleet, made use of it in an attempt to force the people back to their allegiance. In July he was in the Southern Branch with the Otter and several other warships.^A clash with the Norfolk Co mmittee of Public Safety followed. When a cer¬ tain Alexander l^mry-was pointed out to Dunmore by John as one who wore a hunting-shirt, which was the accepted uniform of the minutemen. M jlord impris on ed hi - w -on-board the Otter ,^The next time Shaw set foot in Norfolk he was roughly handled by a mob. 17 Dunmore was still fuming over this incident when Andrew Spro wle,a prominent Portsmouth merchant, received a summons to attend the Committee of Public Safety, to answer the charge of having ‘‘harbored his Majesty’s troop in his store at Gosport.” This aroused the governor to action. A few days later Mayor Paul Loyall received a letter from Captain John McCartney, commander of the Mercury. If those who supply the King’s ships with provisions are to be held up as enemies of American liberty, he wrote, they are the more entitled to my protection. “I shall, the first opportunity, place his Majesty’s ship under my command, abreast the town . . . and if it becomes necessary, use the most coercive measures in my power.” 18 The answer of the mayor and aldermen was worthy of American freemen. “This corporation . . . notwithstanding their exposed and defenseless situation, which cannot be remedied, un¬ biased by fear, unappalled at the threats of unlawful power, will never desert the righteous cause of their country, plunged as it is into dreadful and unexpected calamities.” 19 These were brave words, but i t beca me everyday more e.videnf—. that t he Norf olk patriots^ were helpless. Dunmore’s forces were strengthened by the arrival of additional war vessels; the Scotch ele¬ ment in town was co-operating with him; many of the country people were openly loyal, declaring,J‘Dem it, they will be for the old King | George.” 20 For some time the printer, John(^olt 7 ^ontinued to urge 16 Ibid., Ill, 7. I 17 American Archives, Fourth Series, III, 66, g2. 18 Ibid., p. Q2. 19 Norfolk Council Orders, 1736-1798, pp. 71, 716. 20 Virginia Magazine of History and Biography, III, 154. 54 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port the people not to give up their liberties without a struggle, but on S eptember 30, 1775, he was effectuallyjulenced. A party of sevgntcen British rowed up to the county wharf, land ed, a nd m ar ched to t he print ing office. While a crowd of several hundred looked on, they carried off the types and other “printing implements,” and arrested two of the workmen. On their way back to their boat, the drums beat to summon the citizens to arms. Y et few answered, and the British, after g i v i ng three huzzas , in which a crowd of Negroes^ joined, em- jta rked with -their_two prisoners. So long as the gu ns of the warships pointed out over the tawn_NarfaIk_had to he submissive. 21 Lord Dunmore and Virginia were now at the point of open warfare. The famous minutemen of the upper counties were concentrating at Williamsburg, preparatory to marching on Norfolk. The Revolu¬ tionists of Norfolk and Princess Anne, under the leadership of Mat- thew Phripp. C olonel Lawson, and others, assembled in arms and posted themselves .at Kemp’s Landing and other strategic points. Many of the staunchest patriots in Norfolk had already left to join the militia, 22 and_jL-g#fterM-exodus~of all save those well affected to the British now took place. For days Church Street and the road to Great Bridge were crowded with fugitives, many of Them driving carts filled with household go ods. 23 Dunmore began active operations against the local companies on October 12, when Captain Leslie ascended the Southern Branch and carried off or destroyed nineteen cannon concealed in a wood. 24 Five days later the governor, with a party of grenadiers, sailors, and ma¬ rines, sailed up the Eastern Branch to Newton, where he landed and marched on Kemps. The militia took to their heels, and the British, after breaking open the stores and taking off some small arms, re¬ turned unmolested to their ships. 25 On the night of October 19 thirty- nine men landed at Norfolk and marched out into the country, where they took twenty cannon. By November 1 the British had captured no less than seventy-seven pieces of ordnance, and could boast that they had rendered all Norfolk county defenseless. 26 21 American Archives, Fourth Series. Ill, 847, 923; Virginia Magazine of History' and Biography, III, 160; Richmond College Historical Papers, I, 197. 22 The fact that Dunmore’s men met with no resistance in raiding Holt’s press is explained by the absence from town of almost all save “Tories and negroes.” (American Archives, Fourth Series, III, 1137.) 23 Ibid., Ill, 923; Richmond College Historical Papers, I, too. 24 American Archives, Fourth Series, III, 1716. 25 Richmond College Historical Papers, I, 98. 26 American Archives, Fourth Series, III, 1716. 55 The Maelstrom of Revolution On November 7 Dunmore issued a proclamation declaring martial law, summoning the people to his standard, and offering freedom to all slaves belonging to rebels, who would take up arms for the King. 27 This aroused the ire of all Virginia. Even in times of peace the people were haunted by the fear that the blacks might rise and mur¬ der them in their beds; for the governor to put arms in their hands was an unpardonable sin. In the meanwhile news reached Dunmore that the local militia were assembling again in various places to guard the road over which the approaching State troops must pass on their way to Norfolk. These forces he decided to attack at once. With a reinforcement of sixty men from St. Augustine, he was able to muster two hundred soldiers and marines and a few Norfolk Tories for a descent on Great Bridge. Finding no militia at this place and learning that a force under Colonel Lawson was stationed at Kemps, he marched overland to that village. Here he won an easy victory, for the militia, after firing one volley, fled from the field, their leaders “whipping up their horses as they streamed through Kemps.” Several were killed, two were drowned in their flight, and fourteen were taken. Upon entering the village, Dunmore set up his standard, and summoned the people to take the oath of allegiance. To escape this humiliation many fled to the sand dunes of Cape Henry, but some came in, took the oath, and pinned upon their breasts the strip of red cloth accepted as the badge of loyalty to the Crown. 28 The British and Tories were guilty of many outrages. We have been compelled to abandon “our aged parents, and wives, and chil¬ dren and families,” wrote the Norfolk and Princess Anne patriots, “leaving them to the mercy of invidious neighbors, the lawless, plundering soldiery, and the more savage slave. Our plantations have been ravaged, our wives and children stripped to nakedness, and our very bed chambers invaded at midnight by ruffians with drawn daggers and bayonets. Our houses have not only been robbed of plate, specie, etc., but reduced to ashps .” 29 One lad y mils how shp found an “ugly looking negro man” in the house, “dressed up in a full suit of British regimentals, and ar med with a gun.” “Have you got any dirty shirts here? (this is the name by which our soldiers are known.) I want 27 Colonial Records of North Carolina, X, 308, 309. 28 American Archives, Fourth Series, III, 1717; Lower Norfolk County Antiquary, [I, 132-133; Richmond College Historical Papers, I, 100-103; Virginia Magazine of History and Biography, XIV, 387. 29 Virginia Magazine of History and Biography, XVII, 176, 177. 56 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port your dirty shirts. . . . Then he went up stairs to look for them, he said, but no doubt to see what he could steal.” The lady laid her complaint directly before Lord Dunmore. “Why, madam,” said h'e, “this is a provoking piece of insolence indeed, but there is no keeping these black rascals within bounds. . . . We must expect such things whilst this horrid rebellion lasts.” 30 On November 16, Dunmore, in high good humor at his easy suc¬ cess, marched into Norfolk, where he lost no time in raising the stand¬ ard. The Scotch merchants and their clerks, many Negroes, and some others who feared the confiscation of their property, took the oath, and pinned on the badge. 31 Of those who did so, however, many secretly resolved that they would go over to the patriot cause the moment Dunmore’s troops were gone. “I would rather have seen you dead than with this red badge,” one good wife told her hus¬ band. “Phast!” he replied, “Do you think it has changed my mind? If I can save my property by this step, ought I not in common prudence to wear it, for your sake and the children?” 32 Milord next enlisted the Scotchmen into a regiment which he called the “Queen’s Own Loyal Virginians,” 33 and the runaway slaves into the “Etheopean Corps.” 34 He then laid out a plan of fortifications for the town, and began the construction of earthworks. 35 In this Dunmore made a mistake. Norfolk’s real strength against attack by land lay in the long, circuitous route by which alone it could be approached. Had the British devoted all their energies to erecting works at Bachelor’s Mill on the edge of the swamp and at Great Bridge, it is probable that the Virginia troops would never have gotten within sight of the town. At the last moment this fact dawned on Dunmore, and he set some of his men at work hastily fortifying Great Bridge. This was a place of great natural strength. The South¬ ern Branch flowed here between marshes, extending one hundred and fifty yards or more on either side. From the northern side a long causeway crossed the marsh to an island of firm earth, where a wooden bridge forty yards in length had been thrown over the stream to a similar island on the other bank. This island, in turn, was connected with the village of Great Bridge by another long causeway over the 30 Lower Norfolk County Antiquary, II, 133, 134. 31 American Archives, Fourth Series, IV, 343; Virginia Magazine of History and Biography, XIV, 387. 32 Lower Norfolk County Antiquary, II, 136. 33 American Archives, Fifth Series, II, 159-161. 34 Ibid. 35 Richmond College Historical Papers, I, 137. The Maelstrom of Revolution 57 marsh on the southern side. On the south island were a number of warehouses, where goods were taken on and off the river boats. 36 The British now threw up a stockade fort on the north island, and planted guns to command the bridge. 37 In the meanwhile, the Virginia troops under Colonel William Woodford had left Williamsburg, crossed the James, and were now swinging through Suffolk. They were good fighters and deadly shots, while their ardent patriotism fired them with anger, against Dun- more. 38 Many wore hunting shirts with a tomahawk or scalping knife stuck in the belt, 39 which made the British suppose they would fight after the manner of Indians. They came muttering threats against Norfolk. “The town is a nest of Tories,” they said, “who are aiding Dunmore to subdue the colony, either by provisioning his ships, or actually taking up arms against their fellow countrymen. It would serve them right should we burn their houses over their heads.” 40 Woe to the Tory who fell into their hands, for it was with difficulty that the officers prevented their men from hanging them as traitors. Woodford took the milder and more logical course of handcuffing them to their black comrades, and so marching them through the country to Williamsburg, there to be tried by the Convention. 41 Upon their arrival at Great Bridge, the Virginians threw up breast¬ works across the southern end of the causeway, which they manned lightly, posting the main force in the village behind. There they remained inactive for several days, awaiting reinforcements from North Carolina under Colonel Robert Howe. Whether Woodford could have forced his way over the Southern Branch, even with this accession to his force, is doubtful. To charge across the causeway and bridge against the British works would have been most costly; to flank the position on the right was impossible because of the swampy nature of the soil; on the left the river was guarded by the British sloops. Fortunately, the enemy solved the problem for him by them¬ selves taking the initiative. A slave of Major Marshall’s who deserted to the British, apparently at his master’s command, informed Dun- more that the Virginians numbered no more than three hundred. 36 B. J. Lossing, Field Book of the Revolution (New York, 1851-1852), II, 327, 328; Jarvis Manuscript, pp. 17, 18. 37 Richmond College Historical Papers, I, 106. 38 Ibid., I, 101. 39 Virginia Magazine of History and Biography, III, 159. h 40 Richmond College Historical Papers, I, 99; American Archives, Fourth Series, ’, 343; Smyth, A Tour of the United States, I, 10. 41 Richmond College Historical Papers, I, 122. 58 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port Thereupon the Governor, remembering how the local militia had fled at Kemps, and thinking the shiftmen of the same caliber, decided to attack. 42 So he sent to Great Bridge all his available regulars, sixty Tories, and some sailors from the war vessels, 43 and this force, added to the thirty whites and ninety Negroes already there, brought the garrison to several hundred men. 44 On the morning of December 9 the Ameri¬ cans heard the reveille in the British fort, followed by the discharge of cannon and musketry, and saw the regulars emerging, followed by the Tories and Negroes. The foremost ranks carried planks, which they laid down over the broken bridge to permit the troops and two pieces of cannon to cross to the south island. Here, after burning a few houses and piles of shingles, they opened fire on the American breastwork. The regulars under the command of the gallant Captain Fordyce then advanced over the south causeway. The Americans, crouching behind their breastworks, waited calmly as the dreaded redcoats drew near. “Reserve your fire until they are within fifty yards,” ordered Lieutenant Travis. Then, at the proper moment, he gave the signal, and the shirtmen, aiming as coolly as though at target practice, let go with deadly effect. Down went many of the brave fellows upon the causeway, some dead, others desperately wounded, while the back ranks began to falter. Fordyce waved them on, however, reminding “them of their ancient glory.” But as he approached the breastwork he too fell, covered with wounds, and his men retreated hastily back to the island. Here they were rallied by Captain Leslie. The Negroes and Tories had not advanced beyond the island, and the two field pieces contin¬ ued to play upon the Virginians. But now Colonel Woodford brought up reinforcements, opened a heavy fire from various points, and forced a retreat across the bridge. So enraged were the regulars at their defeat that Captain Leslie had to entreat and even threaten them before they would retire. There was no time for dragging the two cannon back over the bridge, so they were spiked and abandoned. As the fire slackened, several of the Virginians clambered over their breastwork to succor the wounded men on the causeway. The poor fellows, when they saw the shirtmen approach, cried out in terror, 42 Jarvis Manuscript, p. 13; Richmond College Historical Papers, I, 117, 119; American Archives, Fourth Series, IV, 292. 43 American Archives, Fourth Series, IV, 540. 44 Richmond College Historical Papers, I, 112. 59 The Maelstrom of Revolution for Dunmore had reported that they would scalp the wounded. 45 “For God’s sake do not murder us,” they said. “Put your arm around my neck, and I will show you what I intend to do,” the Virginian replied. In this way they assisted the prisoners to the lines, where their wounds could be dressed. Seeing this act of bravery, Captain Leslie stepped out in front of the fort, in plain view of both parties, and bowed his thanks. 46 The victory was decisive. With the regulars cut to pieces and the Tories and Negroes demoralized, it was no longer possible to hold the fort; so on the evening of the battle the British retreated. Some hours later they streamed into Norfolk, the wounded men cry¬ ing out for water as the wagons in which they were lying jolted over the rough streets. 47 In .the town all was confusion and panic. As for Dunmore, when he learned of the defeat of his troops he raved like a madman, actually threatening to hang the boy who brought the news. 48 There was no thought of defending the half-finished breast¬ works, and the regulars, followed by the Ethiopian Corps, marched down to the wharves and rowed out to their ships. The Tories, expect¬ ing no mercy from the shirtmen, put their movable property on board their own schooners and swung out under the protection of the war¬ ships. Whole families had to hurry away, taking their household effects and casting perhaps lingering glances at the homes they were never to see again. Many a dainty lady, who had been accustomed to every luxury, now found herself crowded into some dark hold, intended only for hogsheads of tobacco or barrels of rum or molasses. 49 The triumphant Virginians, reinforced by a part of the expected Carolina force, were not long in discovering that the road to Norfolk was open. The advance guard, under Colonel Stephens, reached Kempsville on the night of December xi, and two days later Colonel Howe, with his Carolinians, entered Norfolk. Woodford followed from the Great Bridge, arriving on the night of the fourteenth with “up- 45 “They look like a band of assassins,” one correspondent writes, “and it is my opinion if they fight at all it will be that way.” Virginia Magazine of History and Biography, III, 159. 46 Jarvis Manuscript, pp. 10-24; Stewart, History of Norfolk County, pp. 40-41; American Archives, Fourth Series, IV, 540; Richmond College Historical Papers, I, 115-121. 47 Lower Norfolk County Antiquary, II, 138. 48 Richmond College Historical Papers, I, 121. 49 “All the principal Tories, with their families and effects, have retired on board the ships-of-war, and other vessels in the harbor, of which there is a very large fleet.” Ibid., I, 121, 129, 130; see also American Archives, Fourth Series, IV, 14. 6o Norfolk: Historic Southern Port wards of 1000 men.” 50 The few remaining inhabitants of the town sent a petition to the two commanders, declaring that they had “at all times wished for liberty,” and craving protection for their “small- substance.” 51 Woodford and Howe replied that they had no intention of injuring them “either in their persons or their property, unless they should attempt to resist.” 52 The resentment of the two com¬ manders against the town was obvious, however, and they gave free vent to their indignation when several of their men were wounded in the streets. “Some of our people say they received the fire from houses,” Woodford wrote the Virginia Convention. “You may be assured the town of Norfolk deserves no favor.” 53 A few days later Howe pointed out to the Convention that Nor¬ folk, because of its unique position, would be a menace to the Ameri¬ cans throughout the war. The enemy will certainly seize the place, “which could so conveniently barrack almost any number of troops, is so well calculated for defense, situated between two colonies, so that the same troops could execute their purposes upon both, and from which their shipping could convey their men to any part of this colony.” The neighboring counties would supply them with pro¬ visions. Norfolk harbor, “near the mouth of the James River, within five or six leagues of the Capes, commanding the navigation of two colonies, makes it perhaps the most noble place for arms for them the world ever produced.” On the other hand, “it cannot be the least benefit to you, unless you command the navigation, without which it would only serve to sacrifice whatever troops you might happen to station there, who would be hemmed in on the one side by the shipping, and on the other by their army. . . . Upon the whole, I think Norfolk cannot be maintained with any troops you can place there. ... In short, though this is a situation extremely desirable to your adversaries who have shipping, it will ever remain in the kind of war we are waging a place disadvantageous and dangerous to you. This, I can assure you, is the sense of every officer in the line.” 54 While the two commanders were thus hinting broadly for permis¬ sion to apply the torch to Norfolk, the folly of Dunmore gave them an unexpected opportunity. The situation on board the fleet was becoming intolerable. Men, women, and children on the crowded 50 Richmond College Historical Papers, I, 126. 51 Ibid., p. 123. 52 Ibid., p. 129. 53 Ibid., pp. 127, 128. 54 Ibid., pp. 138, 139, 148. The Maelstrom of Revolution 61 vessels were suffering for food and water; many were ill, and several died. Petitions began to reach Howe and Woodford for permission for the refugees to come ashore. They replied that all women and chil¬ dren who landed would be protected, provided they gave no informa¬ tion to the enemy, and that the men would receive a fair trial “by their country for taking up arms against it.” 55 Thereupon, Dunmore, remembering how easily he had cowed the merchants by threatening destruction to their homes, tried the same tactics on the two com¬ manders. Having been joined by the Liverpool, a frigate of twenty- eight guns, the fleet moved up to a position opposite the town. Milord then assumed an imperious tone. Was it the intention of the troops to attack his men, he asked, if they came ashore to get food and water? If so, he would not answer for the consequences. Later, when some of the backwoods riflemen, firing from the cover of houses and wharves, began to pick off his soldiers whenever they put their heads above decks, he sent another warning. This must stop, he said, or he would knock the town about their ears. 56 Now began a general exodus. Wagons, carriages, and carts were backed up to the fine residences on Main, or Church, or Talbot streets and filled with household goods. While the mistress stood by to direct the work, Negro men and women went back and forth bringing out beds, chairs, tables, linen, clothing, pewter dishes, silver, heaps of clothing, bread, salt meat, and other provisions. When all was ready, there would be a chirrup to the horses, and off they went, the ladies and children riding in front with the driver, the slaves following on foot. In the business districts shopkeepers and merchants made des¬ perate efforts to hire conveyances—a wagon, a dray, a cart, anything to take their wares out of town. Even in the narrow lanes, the resorts of laborers and sailors, the owners and landlords were bringing out their furniture, and pressing carts and wheelbarrows into service. As the strange, tragic procession moved along the streets and over the Princess Anne road, there was no complaining, and now and then someone would strike up a song to keep the spirits up. The fugitives went wherever shelter offered, some to Portsmouth, some to various parts of Princess Anne and Norfolk counties, some to Suffolk, others to Nansemond county, some even to North Carolina. 57 55 Ibid.., p. 145. 56 Smyth, A Tour of the United States, I, 10; American Archives, Fourth Series, IV, 540. Colonel Howe assured the British that his sentinels had received orders not to fire on the boats. “If they exceeded this order, we would punish them ourselves.’’ North Carolina Colonial Records, X, 372. 57 Norfolk Argus, Jan. 1, 1856. 62 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port On the afternoon of January 1, 1776, the British fleet, consisting of the Liverpool, the Otter, the Kingfisher, and the Dunmore, drew up before the town, from Town Point to the upper wharf. At 3:15/ persons on shore heard the rattle of drums on board and immediately afterward the warships opened with every gun. The Americans answered as best they could from the buildings on the water front, but the fire from the ships was so hot that they had to retire. 58 There¬ upon, several boatloads of British rowed up to the wharves and, stepping ashore, set fire to the warehouses and other buildings next to the water. This they did, so Dunmore afterwards protested, not with a view to destroying the town, but to deprive the shiftmen of their cover. But the Americans seized upon the occasion as an excuse for laying Norfolk in ashes. The soldiers, probably acting without orders, went from house to house applying the torch, 59 and as the British watched from their ships, flames arose, at first one point and then another, until the whole town was burning. 60 With the roar of the cannon, the crashing of the balls, and the crackling of the flames, it was a truly terrifying time for those in¬ habitants still remaining. Women and children rushed through the streets, seeking safety in flight, some hugging a few precious belong¬ ings. Several were killed. 61 The troops added to the confusion by plundering shops and residences, determined “to make hay while the sun shone.” As cask after cask of rum was rolled out of the warehouses and opened, some became drunk. Gangs would approach a house, beat down the door, drag out whatever they fancied, and then set the place on fire. 62 The bombardment continued without interruption throughout the afternoon and far into the night, and Dunmore, find¬ ing that the fire had swept away so many houses that the balls now had a free sweep into the heart of the town, was emboldened to land attacking parties. One group actually brought several field pieces which they planted in the streets, but the American fire was so deadly that they were forced to beat a hasty retreat. 63 The town burnt fiercely all that night, lighting up the country for miles around, 64 and the next day the plundering was resumed. It was only on January 3, when 58 Lower Norfolk County Antiquary, II, 80. 59 American Archives, Fourth Series, IV, 540. 60 Smyth, A Tour of the United States, I, 10. 61 Richmond College Historical Papers, I, 149. 62 H. J. Eckenrode, The Revolution in Virginia (New York, 1916), pp. 86, 87. 63 Richmond College Historical Papers, I, 149; American Archives, Fourth Series, IV, 539. 64 American Archives, Fourth Series, I, p. 540. The Maelstrom of Revolution 63 nearly nine hundred houses, or more than two-thirds of Norfolk, was in ashes, 69 that Howe and Woodford restrained their men. 66 The plight of the people was heart-rending. Many took refuge in the houses still standing in the suburbs, others trudged wearily over the roads to seek shelter in the adjacent counties. The troops gave what assistance they could, lending their wagons and driving the women and children out of the danger zone. “How they will be removed further,’’ wrote Woodford, “it is not in our power to say.” 67 But their situation, however pitiable, was preferable to that of the wretched Tories on board the fleet. Dunmore did what was possible for the prominent merchants. The families of John Hunter and Andrew Sprowle occupied the brigantine Hammond, Jonathan Eil- beck’s family the sloop Peace and Plenty, the Robert Speddin and John Goodrich families seven little sloops, Niel Jamieson was on his brigantine Fincastle, John Brown with his family on two schooners. But the tradespeople and Negroes were crowded into small craft, intended as carriers of merchandise in the rivers and the bay. 68 Not only were food and water scarce, but smallpox broke out, taking a terrible toll, especially among the blacks. These unhappy creatures rued the day they had left their masters, for every landing place of the British was marked by their graves, 69 while their bodies by the score were dumped into the waters of Hampton Roads. “We have daily carcasses driving up on the surf,” wrote a correspondent from Hamp¬ ton. 70 Woodford and Howe received orders from the Virginia Convention to do all in their power to make Dunmore’s position untenable. The fleet had been supplied in large part from a distillery, several mills and some bakehouses on the right bank of the Elizabeth, and from the buildings and wells at Gosport. 71 While Norfolk was still burning, a detachment marched off at night and set fire to the distillery. 72 A few days later they returned, and after giving notice to the residents of I that vicinity to move, destroyed the wells and the remaining property of the distillery company. 73 The British made desperate efforts to «5 Virginia Magazine of History and Biography, XXIII, 408-414. 63 Eckenrode, The Revolution in Virginia, pp. 86, 87. 67 Richmond College Historical Papers, I, 151. 68 American Archives, Fifth Series, I, 151, 152. 69 Richmond College Historical Papers, I, 162. 70 Randolph Macon Historical Papers, I, 114. 71 Ibid., p. 27; Richmond College Historical Papers, I, 145, 150. 72 American Archives, Fourth Series, IV, 540. 73 Richmond College Historical Papers, I, 150. 64 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port protect the buildings, opening on the Americans from the war vessels, and sending ashore an attacking party, but in vain. 74 Another detach¬ ment of shirtmen crossed to Gosport, where they fired the warehouses and pumps and attempted to burn a windmill. 75 Howe and Woodford also scattered small detachments along both banks of the river from Tanner’s Creek to Craney Island to drive off landing parties. In the meanwhile the two commanders were making preparations to evacuate Norfolk. Their mission had been fulfilled; many of their men were asking permission to resign, others were ill. But it was not their intention to leave anything for the possession of the British, and early in February, 1776, by the command of the Virginia Con¬ vention, they burned down what was left of the town, 416 houses in all, valued at about £r,o,ooo . 76 Then, after demolishing Dunmore’s entrenchments, they marched out, taking the remnants of the wretched inhabitants with them. They left behind complete desola¬ tion, charred timbers, blackened foundations, ashes. Gone were the courthouse, the market, the warehouses, the shops, the handsome res¬ idences. Where a few months before singing bands of slaves had loaded and unloaded vessels fresh from Glasgow or the West Indies, where merchants had bargained for molasses or sugar or tobacco, where the country people had gathered to sell their produce, where children had laughed and played, was now only silence. Caught be¬ tween the upper and the lower stones of the Revolution, Norfolk had paid the supreme penalty. The burning of Norfolk started a controversy which has continued to the present day. In March, 1776, the Earl of Richmond rose in Parliament to condemn the “barbaric rage” with which the British were conducting the war. What excuse is there for “our naval com¬ manders,” he asked, who reduced the loyal town of Norfolk to ashes? Thereupon, the Earl of Sandwich explained that the “Norfolk people set fire to the town; that is, the fire from the men-of-war set fire to part of it, and the inhabitants burnt the rest.” 77 The matter should have been put to rest by the report of a commission of investigation, appointed by the Virginia government in 1 777 * 78 They found that of 1331 houses destroyed in and near Norfolk, 32 had been burnt by 74 Ibid,., p. 152. 75 Ibid.., pp. 145, 152; Randolph Macon Historical Papers, I, 27. 76 Ibid.; Virginia Magazine of History and Biography, XXIII, 414. 77 American Archives, Fourth Series, VI, 294, 299. 78 The Commissioners were Richard Kello, James Prentis, Daniel Fisher, and Robert Andrews. The Maelstrom of Revolution 65 Dunmore on November 30, 1775; 19 by Dunmore the day of the bom¬ bardment; 863 by the troops of the State before January 15, 1776, and 416 by the order of the Convention in February. 79 Yet two decades later Rochefoucauld smiled incredulously when informed that the patriots themselves had burned the town. “You recall that the Jacobins of France said that the aristocrats burned their own chateaux,” he said. “Party heat gives rise to the greatest absurdities. Men are the same everywhere.” 80 Modern English historians of es¬ tablished reputations, who would do well to examine the facts more closely, still place the blame for Norfolk’s destruction at Dunmore’s door. 81 Major General Charles Lee, who was appointed commander of the American forces in the Southern Department, now assumed the direc¬ tion of the operations on the Elizabeth River. Detachments were maintained at Great Bridge, Kemps, Ferry Point, on Tanner’s Creek, at Newton, and elsewhere. 82 But they could not prevent Dunmore from landing under the cover of his war vessels, at Tucker’s Mill, west of Portsmouth, and establishing a camp there. The British made an entrenchment and a ditch eight feet deep, extending a quarter of a mile in length, from one cove to another, which gave them about four acres of land. Here they drilled their few remaining regulars, the Norfolk Tories, and several hundred blacks. The Liverpool and Otter were stationed close to the shore to protect this improvised fort, while the Dunmore remained on the other side of the river near the ruins of the distillery. 83 Although the British and their unhappy wards were comparatively safe from attack here, their position be¬ came increasingly uncomfortable. The sinking of several wells af¬ forded a plentiful supply of water, it is true, but provisions were scarce, and the fever still raged among the blacks. 84 In fact, Dunmore could not have remained here a week, had not the Tories on both sides of the river constantly rowed out to the fleet under cover of darkness, with bread, wheat, and corn. After trying in vain to put an end to this traffic by guarding the shores, the Committee of Safety decided upon the drastic expedient of moving the entire population. On April 10, 1776, they ordered that “all the inhabitants 79 Virginia Magazine of History and Biography, XXIII, 414. 80 La Rochefoucauld, Voyage dans Les ktats-Unis, IV, 225. 81 W. E. H. Lecky, The American Revolution (New York, 1908), p. 236. 82 New York Historical Society, Collections, 1871, p. 462. 83 ibid., pp. 365, 385. 84 Richmond College Historical Papers, I, 162. 66 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port o£ Norfolk and Princess Anne counties, at present residing between the enemy and our posts at Great Bridge and Kemp’s Landing, and in a direct line from Kemp’s Landing to the ocean, be immediately removed to some interior parts of this colony.” 85 This order caused consternation. To force five thousand souls to abandon their homes and their fields, and move many miles over a wretched road in quest of shelter among strangers, would cause endless suffering. 86 Yet the order would probably have been enforced, had not the flight of the British rendered it unnecessary. In the meanwhile General Lee was leaving no stone unturned to tighten the lines around the Elizabeth and cut off parties commu¬ nicating with the fleet. A certain Mr. Hopkins, seized as he was returning from the vessels, was conducted to his own residence, and made to look on while the troops rifled it of furniture and set it on fire. 87 The Americans now occupied Portsmouth, not only because it afforded quarters for the troops, but because it was an excellent position from which to watch the British at Tucker’s Mill. Explaining to the Convention that “even the women and children had learned the art of spies,” Lee ordered the entire population to leave. He then confiscated the movable goods of the most prominent Tories—An¬ drew Sprowle, Niel Jamieson, John Goodrich, and Robert Speddin,— and applied the torch to their residences and stores. 88 One attempt was made to set fire to the merchant vessels clustered in the river near the ruins of Norfolk, but the unexpected arrival of the Dunmore forced the boats to scamper for shore before they had succeeded in their purpose. 89 One morning in May, the lookouts in Portsmouth observed that the British were preparing to leave. As they watched, men, women, and children embarked, anchors were hauled up, sails spread, and prows pointed down the river. The fleet made an interesting spectacle—the war vessels, their guns ready for action; brigantines; schooners; and sloops, nearly a hundred in all, their decks crowded wdth troops, , Negroes, and Tories. 90 A few days later the fleet came to anchor at Gwynn’s Island, off the coast of Mathews County. There Dunmore established a camp, erecting breastworks, mounting cannon, and 85 New York Historical Society, Collections, 1871, p. 407. 86 Virginia Magazine of History and Biography, XV, 154. 87 Richmond College Historical Papers, I, 155, 156. 88 Ibid., p. 155; New York Historical Society, Collections, 1871, pp. 457, 458. 89 New York Historical Society, Collections, 1871, p. 459. 90 Richmond College Historical Papers, I, 161. The Maelstrom of Revolution 67 stationing several small armed vessels in the channel between the island and the mainland. The Dunmore, Otter, Roebuck, and other warships were anchored in close in order to protect the camp, while the wretched band of fugitives came ashore, hoping that at last they would be safe from the relentless Virginians. 91 But Dunmore had blundered again. General Andrew Lewis, hero of the Battle of Point Pleasant, brought up troops and erected bat¬ teries on the mainland opposite the island. On July 8, 1776, he opened upon the camp, fortifications, and shipping with two 18-pounclers and several smaller guns. The first shot, fired by Lewis himself, passed through the Dunmore. Then a nine-pounder entered her quarter, smashed the china, splintered a large timber, and wounded Lord Dunmore himself. “Good God, that ever I should come to this!’’ shouted his lordship. By this time the entire fleet, in the greatest con¬ fusion, began to slip their cables and move out into the bay. On shore the cry was raised, “The shirtmen are coming!” and away every¬ one scampered to get on board the vessels. Some of the sick were placed in carts and conveyed to the point of embarkation; others were left to their fate. When some brush huts were accidentally set on fire, those who were too ill to crawl out were burned to death. The next day, when the Americans took possession, they found a scene of horror. Bodies were strewn about “without a shovelful of earth upon them; others gasping for life; some had crawled to the water’s edge, who could only make known their distress by beckoning. ... In short, such a scene of misery, distress, and cruelty,” they had never seen before. The Norfolk Tories were paying a terrible penalty for their adherence to the royal cause. 92 Dunmore lingered near Gwynn’s Island for a day or two, taking care to keep out of range of Lewis’s 18-pounders, and then left for the Potomac in search of recruits and provisions. 93 After remaining there three weeks, in which time two hundred more deaths occurred, he burnt thirty or forty of his vessels, and dividing the rest into two divisions, sailed down the bay and out through the Capes. The squad¬ rons then separated, one heading north and the other south. 94 On August 15 Dunmore, with twenty-five sail, entered New York harbor. 95 As for the refugees, many never saw Norfolk again. “Some go imme- 91 New York Historical Society, Collections, 1872, pp. 44, 52. 92 American Archives, Fifth Series, I, 150, 151, 431, 432. ^Ibid. 94 Ibid., p. 862. 95 Ibid., p. 949. 68 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port diately to Great Britain,” Dunmore announced on July 31, “others to the West Indies, and others to St. Augustine.” 96 Some, we know, accom¬ panied him to New York, where they established themselves as mer¬ chants and shippers. 97 All their warehouses, stores, and residences in Virginia had been destroyed, while their building lots in Norfolk or Portsmouth were confiscated. 98 Some, however, who owned one or more merchant vessels, were able to bring them off with their cargoes; others had property in Europe or the West Indies, 99 which they were able to capitalize for a new start in business. The larger number were never able to restore their fortunes and would have sunk into poverty had it not been for assistance rendered by the British government. 1 " The lot of the Norfolk people who remained in Virginia was hardly less deplorable than that of those who left with Dunmore. Hundreds who before the war had enjoyed every comfort were re¬ duced to want. 101 It is true that all who could prove their allegiance to the Revolution received some compensation for the destruction of their property in the two fires, but the sums were quite inadequate. 102 It was the interruption of trade and the consequent loss of employ¬ ment which in the end proved most disastrous. The people took ref¬ uge w r herever shelter was to be found. Some lived miserably in huts in the woods; 103 some rented houses in Princess Anne and Norfolk counties, some moved many miles into the interior. Everywhere they were charged excessive rents, 104 and those who had relatives or friends to offer shelter in the hour of need were fortunate indeed. “I shall not attempt to describe what we have suffered w r ithin these last three years,” wrote one brave woman. “[We all] live together on dear deceased Mr. Aitchinson’s plantation. It is a small house for two families that have been used to be better accommodated, but w r e are very thankful for such an asylum. Many of the poor inhabitants of Norfolk are greatly distressed for any house at all. We spin our own clothes, milk, sew, raise poultry. . . . Everything has got to such prices here that we buy nothing that we can do without. Our girls are 96 Richmond. College Historical Papers, I, 196. 97 New York Historical Society, Collections, 1901, p. 122. 98 Stewart, History of Norfolk County, pp. 56, 57. 99 American Archives, Fifth Series, I, 152. 100 Dunmore seems to have taken away with him a thousand refugees from eastern Virginia and Maryland (ibid., p. 432) . 101 American Archives, Fourth Series, VI, 1540; Virginia Magazine of History and Biography, XXIII, 408. 102 Stewart, History of Norfolk County, pp. 363-367. 103 Virginia Magazine of History and Biography, XXIII, 407-414. 104 American Archives, Fourth Series, VI, 686. The Maelstrom of Revolution 69 all dressed in their own spinning, even little Molly. Ann assists and your Jenny is as notable at the country work as if she had been brought up to it. ... I am sorry our present circumstances prevents them from improving themselves by reading, writing, keeping polite society, etc.” 105 Despite the ruin which befell Norfolk, despite the Tory sympathies of many of her leading merchants, despite the dispersal of her people, the town did its share toward winning the Revolution. Virginia had to have a navy to protect the Chesapeake and her great navigable rivers, and for the work of creating and directing a navy the people of Norfolk were pre-eminently fitted. There was need not only for naval officers and for sailors, but for ship carpenters, caulkers, sailmakers, ropemakers. Upon the first Naval Board were two Norfolk men— Thomas Newton and John Hutchings. 106 James Maxwell was chief superintendent of the state navy yard in Charles City County. 107 “Mr. Maxwell had thought of buying a farm and setting us down on it,” wrote his wife, “when he received a letter from Gen. Washington, I think, or some one, inviting him to come and take charge of the Navy Yard. . . . He determined, at once, to accept the invitation and join the standard of the country, which, I was both proud and pleased to have him do.” 108 Christopher Calvert was given charge of the con¬ struction of vessels. 109 Other Norfolk men who served in the navy were George Muter, Wright Wescott, Nicholas Wonycott, and John Harris. The little Virginia war vessels could offer no resistance to a real invasion of Virginia waters; but they did excellent work in pro¬ tecting trade, keeping the Tories quiet, facilitating the movement of troops, transporting arms and ammunition, and guarding the chan¬ nels of communication. 110 It was under their wings that the trade of Norfolk began its first stirrings after the great fire. In November, 1779, when Miss Jenny Stewart visited “that once agreeable place,” she found it still desolate. “Nobody could conceive that did not see it how much it is altered,” she said. “It shocks me exceedingly.” But even then there were “a 105 Virginia Magazine of History and Biography, III, 214. 106 The Researcher, I, 15. 107 Ibid., p. 69. 108 Lower Norfolk County Antiquary, II, 138. This shows that some of the Norfolk men who pinned on the red badge of loyalism under compulsion afterwards served their country well. 109 The Researcher, I, 70. 110 Ibid., pp. 9-16, 62-76, 129-136, 197-203; Virginia Magazine of History and Biography, XVII, 364. 70 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port great many small huts built up in it,” occupied by former residents who could not “be happy anywhere else.” 111 So early as the winter of 1778-1779 some of the prominent families were planning to rebuild their homes, 112 a clear indication that commerce was not entirely dead. We know that goods from the French West Indies and even from France itself continued to find their way to Virginia during the Revolution, despite the activities of British frigates and Tory priva¬ teers. In May, 1779, there were two large French ships in Elizabeth River, while at the wharves of Portsmouth, Gosport, Suffolk, and Norfolk were scores of vessels of various sizes, unloading French goods, or taking on tobacco, tar, pitch, turpentine, and pork. 113 Fleets of Virginia vessels left for Nantes with tobacco, which was exchanged for salt, blankets, woolens, sail duck, medicines, linens, arms, powder, and other articles needed by the people and government of the state. 114 The Virginians sought to protect this growing commerce by the erection of a fort on the Elizabeth, just west of Portsmouth. They made a parapet fourteen feet high and fifteen feet thick facing the river, brought up heavy guns, and accumulated stores of ammunition and provisions. But they made the mistake of manning this post too lightly, and when, in May, 1779, Sir George Collier entered the river with a large fleet, the garrison could offer no resistance. Sir George landed a force west of the fort, with the purpose of making a joint attack by water and land, and the Americans, in fear of being cut off, retreated during the night, leaving Portsmouth, Gosport, and all the shipping a prey to the enemy. It was a rich prize. “The quantity of naval stores, of all kinds, found in their arsenals was astonishing,” i reported Sir George. “Many vessels were taken on the stocks . . . one of 36 guns, one of 18, three of 16, and three of 14, besides many merchantmen.” The whole number taken, burnt, and destroyed, J while the King’s ships were in the river amounted to 137 vessels. 115 After burning Suffolk and committing numerous other outrages, the British hoisted sail and headed out of the Capes. Their unannounced visit had cost Virginia £1,000,000, and had struck a blow at her com¬ merce from which she was years in recovering. 116 in. Virginia Magazine of History and Biography, III, 215. 112 Ibid., p. 214. 113 Virginia Historical Register, IV, 188, 189. 114 Virginia Magazine of History and Biography, XVII, 364; Official Letters of 1 Governors of Virginia, I, 146, and II, 92. 115 Virginia Historical Register, IV, 187, 188. 110 Ibid., pp. 188-195. The Maelstrom of Revolution 71 In the meanwhile, fighting had been going on in Princess Anne and Norfolk counties between patriots and Tories. Many families were hopelessly divided. “Long and what were thought valuable friend¬ ships are now entirely dissolved,” wrote one observer, “and persons that thought themselves a few years ago the best of friends, are now the most inveterate enemies. Even the very near and dear ties between father and son are in many instances quite done away.” 117 After the departure of Dunmore, this enmity broke forth in a long series of murders, robberies, and burnings. Bands of ragged Tories, making their headquarters in the swamps of Princess Anne, would descend upon a plantation, strip it of provisions, burn the buildings and drive off the livestock. The most notorious of these bandits was Josiah Phillips, leader of a force of fifty men, who for several years spread terror far and wide. 118 In May, 1778, the legislature outlawed Phillips, and before the year was out, he was captured, tried in the civil court, and hanged. 119 But there were other Tory leaders to take his place. “The county of Princess Anne has neither civil or military law in it,” wrote Thomas Newton, Jr., in September, 1781. “Murder is committed and no notice is taken of it. ... A few desperate fellows go about on the sea coasts and large swamps, and do mischiefs in the night.” 120 It was proposed to erect a redoubt at Cape Henry to “overawe those raga¬ muffins” until troops could arrive from the upcountry. 121 Yet so late as August, 1782, the swamps were still harboring many refugees, who, however, seemed anxious to come in under an offer of immunity. Colonel Newton suggested that it would be wise to issue a general pardon, excepting from it “Levi Sikes and Robert Stewart, the great offenders.” 122 The hopes of the refugees were aroused from time to time by the arrival of the British in Elizabeth River. In October, 1780, a fleet from New York arrived at Portsmouth and landed an army under General Leslie. Fortunately they were bent on gaining touch with Cornwallis in the Carolinas rather than conquering Virginia, so that after a short stay they sailed for Charleston. They took with them some Norfolk and Princess Anne Tories; but the slaves who had flocked in at the 117 Virginia Magazine of History and Biography, III, 215. 118 Official Letters of Governors of Virginia, I, 282, 283. 119 Richmond College Historical Papers, I, 199, 200. 120 Calendar of Virginia State Papers, II, 450, 451. 121 Ibid., II, 671. 122 Ibid., Ill, 252. 72 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port news of their arrival, they were compelled to leave behind. 123 Even more unwelcome than Leslie was Benedict Arnold, who entered the Capes in December, 1780, and after a brief excursion up the James, established himself at Portsmouth. The traitor came, not like his predecessors for a brief stay only, but with the purpose of devastating and perhaps conquering Virginia. He set to work to fortify the town, throwing up works from Gosport Creek to “a creek which empties itself below Portsmouth,” and mounting heavy cannon. The Charon , he posted off Craney Island, while the other warships were drawn up from Tucker’s Mill to Gosport. 124 Arnold made his headquarters in the home of Patrick Robinson, on the northwest corner of High and Middle streets, 125 setting aside the old sugarhouse on Crawford Street, near the Gosport bridge, for a prison and a barracks for his troops. 126 Immediately slaves began to come in. By this time, however, the British had learned that the blacks were more of an encumbrance than a help, being useless as soldiers, costly to maintain, and serving only to spread disease among the troops. 127 Yet Arnold could not refuse to accept them, and many remained with the army until after the surrender at Yorktown. General Washington hoped to trap the traitor by sending a French fleet to cut his communications by sea, while troops closed in upon him by land. But the French were tardy in carrying out their part of the program, so that when they ap¬ proached the Capes, they found Admiral Arbuthnot waiting for them. After an indecisive engagement the French withdrew to Newport, and the offensive broke down. 128 As the stay of Arnold in Virginia lengthened and as other forces joined him, first under General Phillips, and then under Lord Corn¬ wallis, the Tories of Princess Anne and Norfolk counties assumed a bolder attitude. They began to enlist in considerable numbers, while some of the exiles came back to take possession of their confiscated estates. 129 The conquest of Virginia they thought certain. But their confidence was sadly shaken again when the British marched out of Portsmouth to establish their camp at Yorktown. Unwilling to face their outraged countrymen, they gathered up what belongings they could carry, and to the number of several hundred followed in the 123 Official Letters of Governors of Virginia, II, 222, 234, 321. 124 Calendar of Virginia State Papers, I, 557. 125 Burnt before 1859. 126 Jarvis Papers, p. 36 127 Calendar of Virginia State Papers, I, 557. 128 Lossing, Field Book of the Revolution, II, 334. 129 Calendar of Virginia State Papers, I, 476. 73 The Maelstrom of Revolution wake of the troops. 130 Once more they were forced to endure the pangs of hunger and fear as Washington, Rochambeau, and De Grasse closed in upon the British. When it became obvious that Corn¬ wallis would have to surrender, some stole away at night and, crossing the bay, sought their old refuge in the Princess Anne swamps. Many crowded into the sloop-of-war Bonetta, which was permitted to sail unsearched, and so escaped to New York. Others fell into the hands of Washington’s victorious army, and later were tried for taking up arms against their native land. 131 No community in America suffered more in the Revolution than Norfolk. With its buildings laid in ashes, its people scattered far and wide, many of them in dire poverty, its slave population in part carried off, its prosperous trade ruined, the vessels which had once crowded its harbor captured or destroyed, many thought that the place would never again raise its head. Even though the tobacco trade to England were resumed, even though the British should be generous enough to open their West Indian ports to American goods, it would not profit Norfolk, they said. Portsmouth would be the future port of Virginia, and the once proud town across the river would remain an unimportant village. Whether their predictions were to prove correct, whether Norfolk’s ruin was to be permanent, or whether independence was eventually to bring increased prosperity and growth, time alone could show. 130 Virginia Magazine of History and Biography, III, 215. 131 Richmond College Historical Papers, I, 201-203. CHAPTER FOUR The Phoenix of the Elizabeth Ihe rebuilding of Norfolk continued under the British and Tories. During the occupation of the Elizabeth River in 1780 and 1781, some of the exiles came back and, believing that the Revolutionists would never regain possession of Norfolk, settled down on their old estates, and began building. In September, 1783, the State of Virginia confiscated two dwellings, seven storehouses, and other smaller struc¬ tures belonging to Niel Jamieson. A few weeks later it took over a two- story brick house and kitchen near Main Street, the property of Jona¬ than Eilbeck. 1 In January, 1785, two dwellings on Church Street and another at Town Bridge, taken from William Chisholm, were sold by act of Assembly. 2 In addition to these structures, which stood out here and there amid the “heap of ruins and desolation,” the Americans found “two houses built on the public by the enemy” when they re¬ entered the town in 1781. 3 With this as a nucleus, Norfolk slowly emerged from its ashes. The mayor and aldermen met in March, 1782, to start the wheels of gov¬ ernment. The consent of the Assembly was gained for a new borough plan in which Main Street was widened and Church Street altered. 4 In restoring their homes, property owners were permitted to run their steps five feet into the street, while an additional five feet was set aside 1 Norfolk Borough Register, 1783-1790, Corporation Court, pp. 4a, 14. 2 Ibid., p. 65a. 3 Norfolk Council Orders, 1736-1798, p. 76. The Norfolk Directory for 1806 states that “at the close of the year 1783 there were not twelve houses rebuilt.” 4 Norfolk Council Orders, 1782, October. The George Nicholson map of 1802 shows two buildings projecting into the street at Main and Church. They doubtless were erected by the Tories in 1781, before the streets were laid out under the new plan. 75 The Phoenix of the Elizabeth for a footway, which they must “post” and pave. 5 The borough gov¬ ernment next rebuilt the market, purchased fire engines, reopened wells, erected bridges, and constructed a town hall and prison. 6 Immediately after the war, a number of Scotch and English mer¬ chants migrated to Virginia, some as representatives of British firms, others to enter business for themselves. Believing that Portsmouth would displace Norfolk as the chief seaport of Virginia, most of them planned to settle in that town. But since the Portsmouth people, still resentful against the British, refused to receive them, 7 they went to Norfolk, where they were welcomed. These newcomers, because of their mercantile connections as well as their personal ability, played a vital role in restoring the town’s prosperity. 8 As for the Norfolk patriots, many were still living in the backwoods in extreme poverty. These unfortunates, themselves lacking the means to restore Norfolk’s ruined stores and warehouses, often refused to sell their lots to those who could. Therefore many merchants had to rent ground upon which to build at very high rates, some paying no less than one hundred guineas a year for a lot large enough for a storehouse only. Since leases could be had for no more than seven years, the tenant built a mere shack, “anything that would answer the business,” knowing that in a short time he would have to relinquish his right to it. 9 Consequently, Norfolk was rebuilt chiefly of small, poorly constructed, wooden houses. 10 Only after several decades, when whole streets of frame buildings had been swept away by fire, did the town regain the aspect of the old substantial Norfolk of pre- Revolutionary days. 11 With the conclusion of peace in 1783, ships from London, Liver- 5 Ibid., p. 80. 6 Ibid., pp. 80, 81, 85b, 87, 91. 7 One account says they “formed a mob and drove them off.” (Norfolk Herald, Aug. 10, 1802.) La Rochefoucauld declares, “Les habitans exaltes contra les Anglais, ont refuse d’y recevoir aucun negociant de cette nation.” ( Voyage dans les £tats- Vnis, IV, 255.) 8 The Scottish mercantile houses did not, of course, send back as their representa¬ tives the men who had incurred such enmity because of their Tory principles dur¬ ing the Revolution. It was stated that there were not above forty Scotchmen of ante-bellum days living in Norfolk in 1785. Virginia Magazine of History and Biog¬ raphy, XXIII, 407-414. Among the Scotch names listed in the Directory of 1806 are Nathan MacGill, Alexander McClure, John Mackenzie, John MacGowan, George McIntosh, Duncan McDonald, John McNeil, James Menzies, and David McAllister. 9 Virginia Magazine of History and Biography, XXIII, 407-414. 10 La Rochefoucauld, Voyage dans les £tats-Unis, IV, 257. S 11 One observer stated that the houses were few and far between and of humble dimensions, while the merchants, from lack of storerooms, often had to leave their goods in the open air under watch. (Norfolk Herald, July 11, 1828; H. B. Grigsby, Governor Tazewell [Norfolk, i860], p. 27.) 76 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port pool, and Glasgow once more began to enter the Capes, laden with European manufactured goods. Most of them headed for the James, the Rappahannock, or the Potomac, but some came to the Elizabeth and discharged their cargoes at the wharves of Norfolk. 12 Here they took on tobacco, brought down from Richmond, Petersburg, and other river ports, and set out on the return journey. Before a year had passed the interchange of goods between the Chesapeake Bay and Great Britain w r as in full swing. “Our trade was never more com¬ pletely monopolized by Great Britain . . . than it is at this moment,” wrote James Madison in June, 1785. “Our merchants are almost all connected with that country, and that only, and we have neither ships nor seamen of our own.” 13 With remarkable rapidity Norfolk resumed its old place as the chief export town for this overseas trade. “It is the only port of the southern part of this great State,” wrote La Rochefoucauld in 1795, “for boats of 100 or 120 tons only can go up to Petersburg and Richmond. The products of the back country which come to those places by land, are usually sent by barges to Norfolk, whence they are exported. Thus, this port practically monopolizes the commerce of all Virginia from the Rappahannock, and that of North Carolina well beyond the Roanoke.” 14 Yet Norfolk’s former prosperity had been based chiefly upon the West Indian trade, and future growth would be slow unless the Brit¬ ish government opened her islands to the products and the ships of the United States. At first hope ran high. William Pitt, in March, 1783, introduced a bill in the Commons permitting the free importa¬ tion of American goods in American ships into the British West Indies. But this liberal policy, so sharply at variance with the British colonial system, met immediate opposition. England must stimulate shipbuilding at home, not in America, it was argued; otherwise the time might come when the Admiralty would have to send to the United States whenever they wanted a new frigate. Pitt’s bill was blocked. On July 2, 1783, an order in council was published restrict¬ ing the trade between the United States and the British colonies to a limited number of articles to be carried exclusively in British vessels. 15 12 Norfolk Borough Register, 1783-1790, pp. 30a, 32a, 43a, 46a. 13 Gaillard Hunt, Letters and Writings of James Madison (Philadelphia, 1865), I, 91. 14 Voyage dans les Ltats-Unis, IV, 258. 15 F. Lee Benns, The American Struggle for the British West India Carrying Trade, 1815-18)0 (Indiana University Studies, X, Bloomington, 1923), pp. 8, 9, 10. 77 The Phoenix of the Elizabeth At first this seems to have aroused no serious apprehension in Nor¬ folk. The lumber, provisions, and naval stores of Virginia could still find a market in the British West Indies, the sugar and molasses of Antigua and Jamaica could still be had in exchange. That this trade was to be carried on exclusively in British bottoms would prevent the revival of shipbuilding on the Elizabeth, it was true, but this could be endured so long as the trade itself was restored. But the merchants were not long in finding their mistake. The en¬ tire British West Indian trade was monopolized by foreign firms. The Norfolk trader who wished to send a bill of goods to the islands had to bargain with the English shipowners, who might charge him what they would, or if he wished to ship a cargo on his own account, refuse to give him space at any price. “What makes the British monopoly the more mortifying is the abuse they make of it,” said Madison. Many Virginia planters and merchants “have received accounts of sales this season, which carry the most visible and shameful frauds in every article.” 16 As for the shipbuilders, the ropemakers, the block makers, the ship carpenters, the caulkers, who had looked to peace for a re¬ turn of prosperous days, they all suffered from idleness and low wages. There was no call for American vessels, and very little occasion for repairing and reconditioning. The foreign ships which came into the Capes “were for the most part well fitted, and wanted little or noth¬ ing, except when they met with some damage on the voyage.” So the Norfolk mechanics “had scarcely employment to afford a scanty sub¬ sistence for themselves and their families.” 17 It was useless to appeal to the feeble Congress, which, under the Articles of Confederation, did not have the power to regulate foreign commerce, to retaliate for the discrimination against American ship¬ ping. The Virginia merchants had to turn to their own state legisla¬ ture for relief, and at the session of 1785 their complaints poured in. 18 The Assembly itself was at a loss what to do. Should they assent to the regulation of foreign commerce by Congress, or should they at¬ tempt to play a free hand? The Federalists argued that England could be forced to make concessions only by the united action of all the states, and for this a grant of power to Congress was necessary. It would be idle for Virginia to place a heavy duty on West Indian rum or sugar brought in by British ships if Maryland refused to follow 16 Hunt, Letters and Writings of James Madison, II, 151. 17 Norfolk Gazette and Public Ledger, Oct. 30, 1804. 18 Hunt, Letters and Writings of James Madison, I, 200; Hugh B. Grigsby, Vir¬ ginia Federal Convention (Richmond, 1855), II, 127. 78 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port suit. And if Maryland and Virginia agreed to have a like duty, would not England ignore their action, so long as she could supply her islands from Massachusetts or New York? After a long debate the Assembly voted by a large majority that “the power over trade ought to be vested in Congress, under certain qualifications.” But it was not so easy to secure agreement on just what these “qualifications” should be. Madison, who led the battle for a liberal grant of power, was op¬ posed by Meriwether Smith, Carter Braxton, and Benjamin Harrison. When the Federalists introduced a bill to authorize Congress to retali¬ ate upon foreign nations and to impose a 5 per cent duty on imports to raise funds for the state quotas, these men protested vigorously. The time had not yet come, they said, for Virginia to surrender her customs to the Federal government. The power to tax was the essence of liberty and must be controlled solely by the people of Virginia through their representatives in the Assembly. In committee the bill was so weakened by amendments that the Federalists turned from it in disgust. 19 In the meanwhile, a petition came in from Petersburg, complaining that the restrictions of the European powers were ruining the com¬ merce of Virginia, and urging immediate relief. Something must be done, they declared, to foster shipbuilding and to open the trade routes to Virginia-built ships, owned by Virginia merchants. 20 A simi¬ lar petition from the Norfolk merchants had been presented at the previous session, and it was deemed necessary to mollify the shipping interests. If relief was not to be had by Federal action, Virginia must bring the British lion to terms. Accordingly Braxton introduced a bill to prevent the importation of goods from the British West Indies in British bottoms, and another granting a drawback on goods imported in Virginia vessels. 21 These measures pleased nobody. Few imagined that they would cause England to alter her navigation acts, while the effect upon the Virginia trade would be ruinous. In the end they were dropped by the Antifederalist majority, and in their place a bill was passed placing a tonnage of five shillings on entering vessels of coun¬ tries having no commercial treaty with the United States. 22 It was obvious, however, that this could benefit the shipping and mercantile interests little, so long as American vessels were excluded from the British West Indies, and the session was about to close with 19 Grigsby, Virginia Federal Convention, II, 140-145. 20 Ibid., II, 143. 21 Ibid., II, 145; Hunt, Letters and Writings of James Madison, I, 200. 22 Hunt, Letters and Writings of James Madison, I, 222. 79 The Phoenix of the Elizabeth Norfolk, Petersburg, and Alexandria bitterly dissatisfied. At this mo¬ ment, when the Antifederalists were looking around for some means of mollifying these towns, Madison suggested an interstate convention to consider means for regulating American commerce. John Tyler had made this motion before, only to have it ignored. Now, however, on the last day of the session, it was rushed through with but two dissenting voices. It was this resolution which led to the Annapolis Convention, and out of the Annapolis Convention grew the Constitu¬ tional Convention at Philadelphia. Thus the demand of the Virginia merchants for retaliation against England’s trade restrictions played an important and wholly unexpected part in the creation of the new Federal Union. 23 When once the movement had been launched, the people of Nor¬ folk gave it their hearty support, looking to the proposed constitution as their only salvation. All through the summer of 1787, while the convention was in session, they waited impatiently for the report. When at last the Constitution was placed before them, and they saw that it meant the creation of a real nation with a government strong enough to battle for American rights the world over, hope grew strong in the “ancient borough.” Crowds gathered in the Borough Tavern and the old coffee house opposite Town Hall to read the numbers of the Federalist as they appeared, and each point in favor of the new union was loudly applauded. 24 At the celebration of Wash¬ ington’s birthday, toasts were drunk to the United States, to the mem¬ bers of the Federal Convention, to the Rhode Island minority, to the author of the Federalist, and to the commerce and manufactures of America. 25 George Mason’s objections to the Constitution, when pub¬ lished in the Norfolk and Portsmouth Journal, were immediately answered in an article running through three numbers of that paper, 20 while an Antifederalist “Address to the People of Virginia,” brought forth vigorous protests from “Virginian” and “Alexander M. Sarcasm.” 27 In April the borough elected as its representative in the Virginia ratifying convention General Thomas Mathews, a staunch Federalist. 28 Although Mathews was Speaker of the House of Delegates and a 23 T. J. Wertenbaker, The American People, A History (New York, 1928), pp. 111-113. 24 Norfolk and Portsmouth Journal, fan. 30, 1788. 25 Ibid., Feb. 13, 1788, Library of Congress. 26 Ibid., Feb. 20, 1788. 27 Ibid., March 12, 1788. 28 Ibid., April 23, 1788; Grigsby, Virginia Federal Convention, I, 306. 8o Norfolk: Historic Southern Port man of great influence in the state, he was not the spokesman for the mercantile group in the convention. That honor fell to Francis Cor¬ bin, of Middlesex. When Patrick Henry, in one of his bitter attacks on the new constitution, stated that the state was prospering under the Articles of Confederation, Corbin took him sharply to task: “Let him visit the sea coast,” he said, “go to the ports and inlets. In those ports, sir, where we had every reason to see the fleets of all nations, he will behold but a few trifling little boats—he will everywhere see com¬ merce languish—the disconsolate merchant, with his arms folded, ruminating in despair, on the wretched ruin of his fortune, and deploring the impossibility of retrieving it. The West Indies are blocked up against us.” 29 It is not difficult to imagine the applause with which this statement was greeted by the delegates from the shipping centers. When the final vote was taken, the southeastern counties cast a solid vote for ratification. James Webb and James Taylor for Norfolk County, Thomas Mathews for Norfolk borough, Anthony Walke and Thomas Walke for Princess Anne, Willis Rid¬ dick and Solomon Shepherd for Nansemond, James Johnson for Isle of Wight, Miles King and Worlick Westwood for Elizabeth City, John Blair and George Wythe for York, John Stringer and Littleton Eyre for Northampton, all voted in the affirmative. 30 The news that Virginia had joined the new Union reached Norfolk late on Friday, June 27. It was announced by the firing of cannon at the fort and on the ships; with darkness, the borough was illumi¬ nated, while excited people thronged the streets to discuss the good tidings. 31 The next week the town celebrated jointly the Fourth of July and the ratification of the Constitution. A long procession formed at 11 a.m., and marched through the principal streets out to Town Point. In the lead was a band, followed by the various trades¬ men of the town and county, holding aloft standards with mottoes emblematic of their crafts—butchers, fishermen, bakers, brewers and distillers, printers, merchants, grocers, pilots, ship carpenters, rope- makers, blacksmiths. Then came the good ship Constitution, com¬ manded by Captain Maxwell and drawn by ten horses. Behind marched more tradesmen, seamen, carpenters, bricklayers, glaziers, cabinetmakers, coopers, hatters, shoemakers, saddlers, peruke makers, goldsmiths, candlers, draymen, physicians, lawyers. The tailors at- 29 Jonathan Elliot, Debates on the Constitution (Philadelphia, 1836-45), III, 123, 124. 30 Ibid., pp. 589-590. 31 Norfolk and Portsmouth Journal, July 2, 1788. The Phoenix of the Elizabeth 81 traded especial interest, for with them were two boys representing Adam and Eve, “whose uncommon garb of fig leaves” drew attention to the advances made in the art of making clothes. Next in order were the schoolmasters, with their scholars carrying their books, then the sergeant with the famous mace presented by Governor Dinwiddie in 1 754 > 32 an d last of all the mayor, aldermen and councilmen. At Town Point a repast had been set in the open, and here the people regaled themselves while the caterer, Mr. Smith of the Borough Tavern under the assumed character of old Will Boniface, flitted from table to table. Speeches, toasts, and songs followed, after which a bonfire of ten barrels of pitch was set off. 33 In the heat of the struggle for the Constitution, it seems not to have occurred to the Federalists that even the new government might be powerless to force Great Britain to open her colonies to American shippers. All was now confidence and expectation. Hardly had Con¬ gress assembled when an act was passed placing discriminating ton¬ nage duties on foreign-built and foreign-owned ships. 34 Next Gou- verneur Morris was sent to London to take up with the British gov¬ ernment the matter of a commercial treaty, opening their islands to our products carried in our own vessels. But the British showed no inclination to yield merely because the states had created a real union. The ministry decided to wait for the United States to make the first move, and Morris had to report that he could accomplish nothing. Apparently this left the American government the alterna¬ tive of acquiescing in the existing situation, or of retaliation. The former course was not to be thought of, for petitions were pouring in from the seaport towns demanding relief; while the latter would be costly and probably ineffective. In this quandary Washington, at the suggestion of Hamilton, decided to try again for a treaty of com¬ merce, and so sent over our ablest diplomat, John Jay. The British now proved more amenable, and Jay sent back a treaty technically consistent with his instructions and in some respects highly advan¬ tageous. But Article XII, which related to the West India trade, was unsatisfactory. True, it opened the island ports to American vessels, Ibut only of seventy tons, and it pledged the United States to export ijao molasses, sugar, coffee, cocoa, or cotton, either from the United States or from the islands. 35 While the treaty was under consideration 1 32 Norfolk Council Orders, 1736-1798, p. 27b. 33 Ibid., July 9, 1788. 34 Benns, American Struggle for the British West India Carrying Trade, p. 13. 35 Ibid., pp. 17, 18. 82 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port in the Senate in secret session and the mercantile centers were awaiting anxiously to know its provisions, Stephen T. Mason sent an abstract to a Philadelphia paper. A tremendous outburst of disappointment and of anger against Jay followed. “Why should we be restricted to vessels of 70 tons,” men asked each other, “while the British use their largest ships? Why are we excluded from the West Indian carrying trade? Why shall we not export cotton of our own growth? Why does the treaty not require recompense for the carrying off of our slaves in 1783, contrary to the treaty of that year?” At Norfolk the excitement ran high. Early in August a crowd from the town and county pushed into the courthouse, where they passed resolutions denouncing the treaty as injurious to American interests and obviously intended to promote British influence. 36 The hubbub throughout the country continued until the Senate struck out the clause relating to the West Indian trade, and in this mutilated form ratified the treaty. This left the status of affairs relative to the islands just as it was before the opening of negotiations. To make matters worse, there was a steady falling off in the tobacco trade. The exports of hogsheads from Norfolk in 1793 was 15,000, and in 1795 only g,g68. 37 This rapid decline is accounted for in part by the European war, but it also resulted from the gradual exhaustion of the Virginia soil. In colonial days, when land was cheap and labor dear, the planters had found it necessary to exploit their soil without regard to the future, and tobacco was planted year after year on one plot without rotation of crops or the use of fertilizers, until it had become worn out. All tidewater Virginia was full of “old fields” re¬ verting to timber. 38 By 1796 the larger part of the tobacco crop came from the upper counties, while the total was growing less and less important in the agricultural output of the state. Alarmed at this situation, many of the more enterprising planters began to increase their wheat acreage. Wheat grew readily in Vir¬ ginia, it was not exhausting to the soil, and it commanded a steady market. Among the extensive wheat growers was George Washington, who found time amid the cares of the presidency to instruct his over¬ seer in the setting out of the crop and the grinding of the grain. Some of the growers had their own mills, and shipped flour directly from the plantation wharves; others sent the wheat to the mills of Richmond, Petersburg, or Alexandria. 36 Norfolk Herald, Aug. 12, 1795. 37 La Rochefoucauld, Voyages dans les £tats-Unis, IV. 266. 38 T. J. Wertenbaker, Planters of Colonial Virginia (Princeton, 1922), p. 105. The Phoenix of the Elizabeth 83 The Virginia millers were unable to turn out so fine a variety of flour as their competitors in New York and Pennsylvania, and could not command so high a price in the foreign market. As a result the planters began to send a large part of the wheat crop each year to be milled in Philadelphia, the Brandywine, or New York. 39 Norfolk be¬ came the chief point of transhipment for this northern trade, since the coastal packets seldom ventured up the rivers to the Fall Line. The method of loading is shown by the voyage of the Lady Walter- stoff, of Philadelphia, in 1790. This vessel came in the Capes and sailed up the James to City Point, where the Richmond firm of Stephen and Moses Austin sent down two thousand bushels of wheat. She then came to Norfolk to receive the rest of the cargo from the York River. One after another the river boats sailed into the Eliza¬ beth, made fast to the Lady Walterstoff, and transferred their wheat and corn. After a stay of several weeks the brig weighed anchor and set sail for Philadelphia. 40 Norfolk’s northern trade was greatly stimulated by the rise of the Fall Line towns, for the merchants of these places rarely dealt directly , with Europe or the West Indies. The more produce which came down the upper James to Richmond or down the Appomattox to Peters¬ burg, the greater would be the amount to be shipped from Norfolk’s wharves. There were a few agents for English firms at Richmond, but most of the traders carried on merely a commission business. “It is from the merchants of Richmond and Petersburg that those of Nor¬ folk usually purchase the grain, flour, and tobacco, which they them¬ selves export,” wrote La Rochefoucauld. 41 And Richmond was grow¬ ing rapidly. The James, extending above the falls far back into the interior, poured into her warehouses the products of a dozen coun¬ ties. Despite its shallow waters, this river for many years was the greatest commercial highway of the state, since the cost of bringing iown bulky commodities over the mud roads was prohibitive. The obacco growers of Albemarle or Fluvanna or Amherst would lash wo canoes together, place on board a hogshead of tobacco weighing me thousand pounds, and steer down the stream to Westham. 42 From his point they had to take it by land seven miles to Richmond, or, if it was to be transhipped to Norfolk, down to Shockoes. 43 Later a canal 39 La Rochefoucauld, Voyages dans les Ltats-Unis, IV, 264. 40 Norfolk Borough Register, 5783-1790, p. 244a. 41 Voyages dans les Ltats-Unis, IV, 302. 42 Smyth, Tour in the United States, I, 32. 43 Ibid. 84 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port was dug around the falls, so that river boats and canoes could de¬ scend, through three locks, to a basin at Richmond. This left a por¬ tage of one mile only for goods going further down the river. The proposal to extend the canal to Rocketts was blocked by Richmond merchants to prevent the products of the back country from going directly to Norfolk without stopping at their warehouses. 44 In addition to its growing northern trade and to the European trade, Norfolk was enjoying a fair interchange of goods to the West Indies. British restrictions could not keep her vessels out of the French islands, and many left each year for Martinique or Guade¬ loupe with lumber, livestock, and some salted provisions. “The restric¬ tions in the Danish and Dutch colonies were habitually avoided. With the Spanish colonies the trade was forced.” 45 Moreover, trade to the British colonies in British bottoms continued on a large scale, for Jamaica, Antigua, Nevis, and Barbados could not dispense with American provisions, lumber, and naval stores. The columns of the Norfolk newspapers in the years from 1785 to 1800 are full of notices of the departure of vessels for the Indies, and of advertise¬ ments of sugar, molasses, and rum for sale in the warehouses on the waterfront. 46 In 1791 the exports of Norfolk and Portsmouth reached $1,028,789.00. The port sent out that year 35,071 barrels of flour, 341,984 bushels of wheat, 29,376 tons of naval stores, besides large quantities of lumber, provisions, and tobacco. 47 The duties from im¬ posts and tonnage for the same year mounted to $209,519.84. 48 Still, recovery might have been slow had it not been for the out¬ break of war in Europe in 1792, following the excesses of the French Revolution. British shipping now was so greatly in demand in other parts of the world that her navigation acts could not be enforced in the West Indies. One after another the governors of the various is¬ lands, fearing starvation for the people, issued proclamations, per¬ mitting the importation of flour, grain, bread, lumber, and other American products in American bottoms of all sizes. Since the French islands also needed American goods and American carriers, the West India trade mounted by leaps and bounds. In the years from 1792 to 1801, exports from the United States to the British islands rose from 44 La Rochefoucauld, Voyages dans les Btats-Unis, IV, 303-305. 45 American Commercial Beacon, Aug. 28, 1821. 46 Norfolk Journal, Dec. 31, 1788; Virginia Chronicle, June 29, July 6, Sept. 21, Nov. 23, 1793; Norfolk and Portsmouth Chronicle, Sept. 26, Oct. 10, 1789; July 10, 1790, etc. 47 La Rochefoucauld, Voyages dans les Btats-Unis, IV, 260-266. 48 Virginia Magazine of History and Biography, VIII, 289. The Phoenix of the Elizabeth 85 $2,144,638 to $9,6g9,722. 49 Nor was this all. A large part of the carry¬ ing trade to Europe fell into American hands. From San Domingo, Jamaica, Martinique, Guadeloupe, and Antigua, our ships sailed for the United States, there to take on new clearance papers and turn eastward to Europe. In 1789 the tonnage of American-owned vessels engaged in foreign trade was 127,000; in 1801 it was 849,ooo. 50 Norfolk participated fully in this startling revival. Her Indian com, lumber, tobacco, and naval stores were cheaper than those of the North, and superior in quality to those of South Carolina and Georgia. She could supply all the demands of the islands save that for rice and yellow pine. Clearances for foreign ports from Norfolk and Portsmouth rose to 307 in 1798, to 405 in 1799, and to 448 in 1801. 51 On one day alone of January, 1803, there were in the Elizabeth River forty-two ships, thirty-one brigs, fifty-six schooners and forty sloops. 52 The number of vessels from foreign ports to enter at Norfolk rose from 356 in 1800, to 368 in 1801, to 453 in 1802, and to 484 in 1803. 53 In 1804 and 1805 the number entering declined, but the total tonnage from foreign countries continued to mount. Exports rose from a little over a million dollars in 1792, to two millions in 1795, to four and a third millions in 1804, 54 and, in the years from 1804 to 1807, from five to seven millions annually. 55 Tonnage owned by Nor¬ folk citizens, negligible in 1785, was 15,567 in 1796, and 31,292 in 1805. 56 In 1806 her merchants owned 120 vessels, aggregating 23,207 cons, used exclusively in the foreign trade, some of them stately ships }f from 350 to 450 tons. 57 “Six years ago there were not ten large /essels belonging to Norfolk,’’ wrote La Rochefoucauld in 1796; ‘to-day there are fifty, to say nothing of fifty more smaller ones, engaged chiefly in the West India trade.” 58 The shipbuilding industry, so lately entirely prostrated, now en- oyed an unexampled expansion. Old shipyards sprang into life, Gos- )ort was crowded with partly finished hulls, while every slip along the tanks of the Elizabeth and its tributaries resounded to the hammer 49 Benns, American Struggle for British West India Carrying Trade, pp. 19, 20. i 50 Wertenbaker, The American People, A History, pp. 180, 181. 51 Norfolk Herald, Oct. 26, 1835. 52 Ibid., Jan. 13, 1803. 33 The Norfolk Directory, 1806, p. 59. 54 La Rochefoucauld, Voyages dans les Btats-Unis, IV, 260; Forrest, Sketches of r orfolk, p. 102. 55 Norfolk Beacon, Dec. 13, 1834; The Norfolk Directory, 1806, p. 59. 56 Norfolk Beacon, Dec. 13, 1834. 57 Norfolk Herald, Oct. 26, 1835. 58 Voyages dans les Btats-Unis, IV, 265. 86 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port and the saw. 59 “In those days we were so prosperous,” wrote one old citizen afterward, “that no carpenter could get a wharf to build a ship on. They were built along shore and up the creeks. . . . The whole harbor was continually full of shipping and there were an immense number of ship carpenters and sea captains.” 60 Even then it was im¬ possible to supply the demand for new ships. “There was no haggling about prices; the only question was, ‘How soon can the work be done?’ ” 61 From eighty to ninety vessels of all sizes were built at Nor¬ folk annually, most of them for the Philadelphia market. 62 The ca¬ pacity of some of the shipyards is indicated by the launching from the establishment of John Foster, at Portsmouth, of a 380-ton ship, the Dumfries, intended for the London trade. 63 The cost of construction for the hull of a vessel of 120 tons or more was $24.00 a ton; for completed ships, ready to put to sea, from $47 to $50. The pay of ship carpenters, which was very high for the times, being from two to three dollars a day, 64 attracted laborers for many miles around. Every man who had ever built a shallop or a row boat represented himself as a skilled ship carpenter, and few were turned away. “The rapid growth of Norfolk has drawn hither an immense concourse of people, poor as well as rich,” stated the Herald of February 7, 1795. Despite the fact that building had gone on rapidly and that the number of houses by 1796 had risen to eight and nine hundred, it was very difficult to secure lodgings. 65 In 1800 the popula¬ tion was 6,926, of whom 3,850 were whites and 3,076 blacks. 66 “Your harbor, capacious as it is, was filled with ships from foreign parts,” wrote a visitor to Norfolk. “The coasting trade, which distributed your imports, employed hundreds of vessels, whose streamers, mingling on a gala day with the flags of the foreign ships, presented a cheering spectacle. ... It was difficult ... to cross in a ferry boat from Nor¬ folk to Portsmouth, on account of the great number of vessels in the harbor. Your warehouses were full of foreign and domestic products. Besides your stated population, there was always a body of transient people, . . . demanding houseroom and board.” 67 59 Ibid. 60 Jarvis Manuscript, p. 51. 61 Forrest, Sketches of Norfolk, p. 107. 62 La Rochefoucauld, Voyages dans les Ltats-Unis, IV, 270. 63 Norfolk Gazette and Public Ledger, Oct. 30, 1804. 64 Ibid. 65 Forrest, Sketches of Norfolk, p. 102. La Rochefoucauld places the number be¬ tween seven and eight hundred ( Voyages dans les Ltats-Vnis, IV, 256). 66 Second Ccjisus of the United States (Washington, 1801) . There were 2,312 white males, 1,538 white females, 352 free Negroes and 2,724 slaves. 67 Forrest, Sketches of Norfolk, p. 115. The Phoenix of the Elizabeth 87 The columns of the Norfolk Herald picture the life of the town at ✓ this period. From the issue of January 5, 1805, we find that the ship William and Mary and the brigs Martha Johnson and Sophia had just arrived from Jamaica, the schooner Adeona from Antigua, that other vessels from Guadeloupe, Port Republic, and Kingston were lying at Hampton Roads. The American ship Alexander was advertising for a cargo of six hundred hogsheads of tobacco, the schooner Brothers for passengers for Eden ton, N. C., the British ship Phoenix for to¬ bacco for Liverpool. George McIntosh had for sale a consignment of cloth, hardware, cutlery, and nails, just in from Liverpool on the Sukey and Juno; Donaldson, Thorburn & Co. two hundred crates of queen’s ware, glass, and copperas; James B. Timberlake & Co. rum from Jamaica, Antigua, and New England, wines from Madeira and Sicily, sugar, tea, green coffee, spices, glass, Spanish cigars and cheese; James Taylor and Thomas Armistead had Teneriffe wine and old port; Martin Fiske rum, brandy, whiskey, mackerel, mould candles, chocolate, pepper, sugar, and paper; Lewis E. Durant & Co. ship chandlery, iron, brass, and tinware in from London on the Alexan¬ der; R. Bowden & Co. thirty thousand pounds of green coffee; Phine- han Dana thirteen bales of India cotton; N. Macgill one hundred and eighty barrels of beef and ten pipes of gin. If one were inclined to venture his money in a voyage to Europe or the Indies, he could purchase the brig Drake, of 108 tons; the Fair American, a ship of 317 tons; the ship George, of 232 tons; the brig Maria, of 130 tons; the British ship Prince of Wales, of 456 tons, “pierced for 20 guns” and having three decks; the ship Carpe?iter, of 235 tons; or a dozen other ships or brigs. From the same paper we learn that Tildsley Graham operated a bakery at Town Point, that Hillary Lambert conducted a shoe-repairing business at Calvert’s wharf, that Thomas Lester of Rothery’s Lane was a tinplate worker and coppersmith; that Francis Lynch sold bonnets, calico, and play¬ ing cards at No. 20 Market Square; that William Wright was a “silk and muslin dyer, lately from Europe.” Madden and Whitehurst, tailors and habit-makers, of 115 Main Street, assured “those who honor them with their commands, that no exertion of theirs shall be wanting to give satisfaction, of which they are confident from their long experience and practice. They are well acquainted with the latest fashions, and as for despatch, none of their profession in this borough can, they flatter themselves, surpass them.” 68 Norfolk was a cosmopolitan spot in the last two decades of the 68 Norfolk Herald, Jan. 5, 1802. Norfolk Public Library. 88 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port eighteenth century. On its busy wharves and crowded streets one could brush elbows with merchants from Glasgow, or Liverpool, or Kingston, or Philadelphia; with North Carolina shippers, just in from Albemarle Sound with a cargo of lumber, tar, and turpentine; with traders from Richmond and Petersburg; perhaps with sailors from some French brigantine lying in the river awaiting a consign¬ ment of tobacco. The town numbered among its prominent mer¬ chants not only native Virginians and recent Scotch immigrants, but Englishmen, Irish, and French West Indians. There were a few Dutch, Spanish, and Portuguese. “Our Norfolk born people, and the people from the neighboring counties, formed the base—a pretty broad base, but only a base.” 69 In July, 1793, there came into Hampton Roads a fleet of one hun- ' dred and thirty-seven square rigged vessels, under the escort of two ships of the line, three frigates, and three smaller warships, all carry¬ ing the flag of France. Their decks were crowded with men, women, and children, many of them ill. They were French refugees, driven from their homes in San Domingo by an uprising of the slaves. 70 Some of the ships came up the Elizabeth and landed hundreds of these un¬ happy people at Norfolk. Most of them were in complete destitution, many families formerly wealthy now depending on charity. The borough government took steps to provide for them until they could find employment, or could move on to the interior. 71 At the same time subscriptions from private sources poured in, not only from Norfolk, but from almost every town in Virginia, while the state legislature voted a considerable sum. 72 This kind reception, the alli¬ ance between France and the United States, and the fact that in Virginia they could make use of the few slaves they had brought with / them, were deciding factors in the decision of many to remain. 73 Isaac Weld states that there w'ere between two and three thousand in Norfolk at one time, but that afterwards most of them dispersed to other parts of the country. Those who remained opened little shops, in an effort to restore their fortunes. Among the Frenchmen who conducted dry goods stores in 1806 were M. Blanchard, and Louis Santegan on Church Street, and Gabriel Leleivie, Mary Lemasurier, and Peter Vizenneau on Main Street. The Norfolk Journal of De- 69 Grigsby, Governor Tazewell, p. 23. 70 Virginia Chronicle, July 13, 1793. 71 Norfolk Council Orders, 1736-98, pp. 165, 165b. 72 La Rochefoucauld, Voyages dans les £.tats-Unis, IV, 277. v' 79 Ibid. The Phoenix of the Elizabeth 8g cember 7, 1873, states that many of the stores on the west side of Market Square were kept by Frenchmen. The officers of the French Lodge of Wisdom included Jean Pierre Laperouse, Jean Baptiste Campamagy, Pierre Chabaner, Gabriel Bernard, Francois Blanchet, Gaspard Ducamp, Louis Lepage, and Louis Durand. 74 At least one of the exiles prospered, for we are told that “Monsieur Delisle, a French¬ man from the West Indies,” went extensively into the brickmaking business, and established himself on Church Street, near Princess Anne Road. 75 The mixed nature of the population accentuated the violence of party spirit at Norfolk. Everywhere in the United States the people were divided into the partisans of France and of England; at Norfolk, where Scotchmen and Englishmen every day elbowed French republi¬ cans, matters often came to the verge of blows. On one occasion, when some French sailors on shore-leave got into a controversy with a party of British tars, “the whole people were up and ready to join them on one side or the other in open contest,” and peace was restored only by the calling out of the militia. 76 La Rochefoucauld declares that the friends of France were the prevailing party. In proof of this he states that when a French convoy was leaving the Capes for the north, all the pilot boats at Norfolk were mysteriously scuttled as the result of a rumor that one of them was to be used to warn the English at Halifax. 77 When the news of the French victory at Valmy reached Norfolk in January, 1793, the guns at the fort were fired, while a large group of republicans at the Borough Tavern celebrated with songs and toasts. The company drank to the Republic of France, to Citizens Du- mouriez and Custine, to the National Convention, and to the Rights af Man. 78 In February of the next year the French were hosts to the patriots of “Norfolk Borough,” and, while the French ships in the river kept up an incessant fire, a long procession moved through the principal street. A dinner followed, marked by the usual huzzas, toasts, and French and American songs. 79 Still another celebration took place in 1795, on the anniversary of the signing of the Franco- American treaty of alliance in 1778. 80 74 Norfolk Directory for 1806-j, p. 75. 73 Forrest, Sketches of Norfolk, p. 103. 76 Weld, Travels in North America, p. 176.1/ 77 La Rochefoucauld, Voyages dans les £tats-Unis, IV, 278. 78 Virginia Chronicle, Jan. 26, 1793. 79 Ibid., Feb. 22, 1794. 80 Ibid., Feb. 7, 1795. 90 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port On the other hand, the Federalists formed themselves into the Society of Constitutional and Governmental Support, with Alexan¬ der Gordon as president, and Duncan McPherson as vice-president, to “contradict the Jacobin clubs.’’ 81 This group grew stronger as news of the excesses of the Convention filtered in, and as the realiza¬ tion grew that Norfolk’s prosperity was contingent upon peace with England. They were never able to swing the full weight of public sentiment, however, until news reached the town of the outrageous X. Y. Z. affair. Then, when it became known that the French Direc¬ tory had insulted the United States by refusing to treat with her envoys until they had handed over a douceur or bribe, anger rose to white heat. The Norfolk Frenchmen were troubled and downcast, their friends mute. A great gathering of citizens gave President Adams a unanimous vote of confidence. “We are friendly to France,” they said, “but we reject with indignation her demands. We are deter¬ mined not to purchase peace at the price of national character and individual security.” 82 The borough took on a warlike appearance. A meeting in the Town Flail on June 28 opened a subscription to raise money for purchasing or building a warship to be lent to the United States government. 83 A group of young men, from sixteen to twenty-four years of age, wrote to President Adams, offering their services to fight for the nation. 84 Those citizens who were exempt from military duty formed themselves into a volunteer company to show “no lack of patriotism in this alarming crisis.” 85 On July 4 the Fifty-fourth Regi¬ ment, made up of Norfolk militia, paraded before General Thomas Mathews and several Federal officers. 86 The excitement increased when merchantmen came scurrying into the Capes with the news that French privateers had begun preying on American commerce. In July the Triumphant took the brig Elizabeth on her way from Grenada to Norfolk, and later made a prize of the Abigail, which was headed for Havana. The schooner Ranger was boarded by the privateer Sanspareil, but escaped with the loss of some bread, beef, and the skipper’s watch and wearing apparel. 87 Not until the ap- 81 Norfolk Herald, March 4, 1795. 82 Ibid., May 10, 1798. 83 Ibid., June 30, 1798. 84 Ibid., June 23, 1798. 85 Ibid., July 7, 1798. 86 Ibid. The chief officers of the regiment were Colonel Graves, Major Westweed, Captains Reynolds, Smith, Nestle, Nivison, and Myers. si Ibid., July 19; Nov. 24, 1798. The Phoenix of the Elizabeth 91 pointment of Adams’ new commission to renew negotiations with France did the excitement subside; but even then the old enthusiasm for France, born of French assistance to the United States and sym¬ pathy for the early principles of the French Revolution, did not return. Such was Norfolk at the close of the eighteenth century—crowded, busy, turbulent, full of life and hope. With expanding business, with fortunes being made rapidly, with the population doubling, with shipbuilding enjoying an unprecedented boom, with people flocking in from all parts of Virginia and North Carolina, with the Chesa¬ peake Bay and Albemarle Sound tributary to her commerce, she looked forward to the day when she would rival Boston and Phila¬ delphia. This was the time when “one might walk from Norfolk to Portsmouth on the decks of the vessels at anchor in the harbor,” wrote one enthusiast, “when the rich products of the Indies were piled on our wharves, and stored in our warehouses, when our mer¬ chants bought cargoes of cotton, corn, and tobacco, and shipped on private account, when Richmond and Petersburg were tributary to Norfolk and their merchants flocked periodically hither to purchase their supplies, when the business of Norfolk was comparatively larger than that of New York, and really larger than that of Baltimore.” 88 Main Street was a busy thoroughfare, lined with shops and houses from one end to the other, and “thronged with a heterogeneous mass of human beings.” 89 Among the conspicuous buildings were the Custom House at the head of Washington Street; the post office and the Exchange Coffee House side by side; the Public Ledger office, the courthouse and archives office on the north side of the street; the market house in Market Square; the new Borough Tavern a few doors west of the corner of Church Street; and the old Borough Tavern farther east. In the west end of Main were the residences and offices of a number of prominent persons, No. 6 being the law office :>f Littleton W. Tazewell; No. 12 the residence of John Nivison, oorough recorder; No. 4 the house of John Cooper, editor of the Public Ledger; No. 32 the law office of William Lindsay; No. 13 that )f Robert B. Taylor. Further east were several boardinghouses, 'ollowed by a group of dry goods stores, with here and there a barber .hop, a confectionary, a grocery store, a shoemaker’s shop, a cut-nail nanufactury, a chemist’s store, a tailor shop, a watchmaker’s shop, a 88 Forrest, Sketches of Norfolk, pp. 116-117. 89 Ibid., p. 107. 92 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port bookstore, or even a residence. East of the intersection with Church the street was devoted almost entirely to residences. Here dwelt Dr. James Taylor; the sea captain Miles King; Colonel John Hamil¬ ton, British vice-consul; Mrs. West, proprietor of the theater; and Edward Archer, member of the town council. 90 Church Street, “still the only avenue by which the town could be entered by vehicles,” was a “noisy, brisk thoroughfare,” built up w r ith stores and tenements. The southern end was filled with dry goods stores, shoe-shops, and grocery stores, but from No. 50 northward were dwellings occupied by the middle classes—tailors, cabinetmakers, sea captains, blacksmiths, plasterers, butchers. St. Paul’s, with its burying ground, was on the west side, while opposite was the Academy and the new Episcopal church. Although both Main and Church were unpaved, and were muddy in winter and dusty in summer, they were always crowded with “horses, carriages, phaetons, chairs, carts, and drays,” not to mention the swarms of pedestrians. Water Street had been laid out all the way from Parker Street to the site of the Union depot, but from Reed Street to Merchant Street it was still under water. The completed section was lined on the south with wharves, 91 around w r hich centered the activities attendant upon commerce. Here were the warehouses of the merchants, the wholesale grocery com¬ panies, ship chandlers, blacksmiths, block and pump makers, ship joiners, coopers, sailmakers, ship carpenters. Back Creek still separated the old town from the new section to the northwest, but bridges at Catharine and Granby streets made com¬ munication possible. It was proposed at this time to fill in both the Back Creek and Newton’s Creek, leaving canals deep enough for large boats to ascend to Catharine Street on the west and on the east up to Fenchurch, but the matter was left to the future. 92 In the section north of Back Creek were a number of residential streets, of which Freemason was the most important. Here was the home of Moses Myers, here the residences of H. Richard Lee, Jonathan Eilbeck, W. A. Armistead, and J. Charles Catlett. “The houses had no con¬ veniences,” H. B. Grigsby tells us, “except here and there a closet. 90 The Norfolk Directory, 1806. 91 Among these were the wharves of Pennock, Warren, Woodside, Rothery, Mars- den, Maxwell, Campbell, Newton, Moor and Meburne, Loyall, John Calvert, C. Cal¬ vert, and Lee. 92 Nicholson, Map of Norfolk, of October 22, 1802; Forrest, Sketches of Norfolk, pp. 116-117. 93 The Phoenix of the Elizabeth They were, however, substantially built, and were neatly finished within. They invariably had . . . the smokehouse in which every housekeeper cured his meat; and there was the dairy. . . . The peo¬ ple had cows, but there was no running water, and there was no ice. Long years passed before ice was introduced. The equinoctial storms sadly worried our fathers. From the imperfect filling in of the streets and wharves the tides rose high; and then . . . Norfolk was another Venice. The canoe was our gondola, and ‘yo heave ho’ were our echoes of Tasso.” 93 In this period before the Revolution, the merchant class was the wealthiest and most influential in the town. Moses Myers, William Pennock, John Southgate, John Mackenzie, Alexander Maclure, Rob¬ ert Maitland, and many others carried on an extensive trade, largely in their own ships. These men possessed handsome residences and surrounded themselves with every comfort the age afforded. The beautiful residence of Moses Myers is still standing, a monument to the charm of the buildings of that day. The professional men— lawyers, doctors, ministers, town officials—constituted another highly respected group, while the fifty or more sea captains who made Nor¬ folk their home were a class to themselves. Far more numerous, of course, were the artisans—carpenters, brick¬ layers, plasterers, bakers, shoemakers, brewers, coopers, cigarmakers, chairmakers, cabinetmakers, blacksmiths, dyers, turners, joiners, sad¬ dlers, hatters, whitesmiths, painters, glaziers, goldsmiths, watch¬ makers, gunsmiths, brass founders, cutlers, tanners, printers, wheel¬ wrights; and workers connected with building and repairing ships— ship carpenters, ship joiners, ship chandlers, riggers, sailmakers, block and pump makers. There was a considerable group of free Negroes, most of them working for wages as day laborers, but a few establishing themselves as little tradesmen or artisans. Thus a free black named Armistead Lewis kept a livery stable on Wolfe Street, Isaac Anderson was a carpenter, Leonora Byers had a shop on Main Street, Betty Cross was a midwife, George Johnson was a shoemaker, Thomas Knight a barber. As for the hundreds of sailors who at all times could be seen walking the streets, wandering around the Wig¬ wam on Briggs’ Point, or swarming on the wharves, those who were unmarried took up their residence at the sailors’ boardinghouses. Of these there were thirty-five or more, most of them located on Little 93 Grigsby, Governor Tazewell, p. 25. 94 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port Water Street, Woodside’s Lane, and Water Street on both sides of its intersection with Commerce Street. 94 The rapid rise of Norfolk from ruin in 1783 to prosperity and riches in 1800 attracted wide attention. It was freely predicted that the town would become one of the greatest commercial cities of the Union. Few stopped to consider that the present flourishing condi¬ tion was the result chiefly of the opening of the West Indies to American merchantmen, that this in turn was purely the result of the European war, and that with the return of peace and the enforce¬ ment of the British colonial trade laws would come stagnation and hard times. The day was not distant when Norfolk was to learn that a prosperity which is at the mercy of foreign commercial restrictions is apt to be fleeting. 95 94 The Norfolk Directory, 1806. 95 “The trade of our fathers in 1802 was an unnatural trade,” wrote Hugh Blair Grigsby. “It was a fungus that sprung from the diseased condition of foreign powers. It was not the result of developed productive wealth, but the accident of the war between the two greatest commercial nations of the globe, which gave us the carry¬ ing trade. It was born of other people’s troubles, and destined to die when those troubles were appeased.” (Grigsby, Governor Tazewell, p. 27.) CHAPTER FIVE Coercion—Peacefu l and Otherwise From the opening of the European war in 1792, the West Indian trade and the American carrying trade to Europe was seriously hampered by the belligerents. Although the French and Spaniards were glad to have the ships of Boston, New York, or Norfolk supply their islands with provisions and lumber and carry off molasses and rum, now that the British frigates had made the sea so unsafe for their own shipping, they were on the alert to break up any trade be¬ tween the United States and the British West Indies. Their cruisers and privateers roved in Caribbean waters ready to pounce upon any vessel headed for Jamaica, or Antigua, or Nevis. So early as January, 1795, the Happy Return, belonging to John Calvert of Norfolk, was captured by the French schooner Resolution and sent as a prize to Charleston. 1 Following the X. Y. Z. affair French seizures became so ijfrequent as to bring ruin to many American shippers. “Our mer¬ chants have been plundered of many millions,” complained the Norfolk Herald, in January, 1801. “In this town claims against the French are ... in all about $2,000,000.” A year later the principal sufferers organized to petition Congress for relief, and to correspond with victims elsewhere. 2 The treaty of September, 1800, with Napoleon did not end the French depredations. In December, 1802, when the schooner Maria, af Norfolk, was at anchor at Tobago, a boatload of sailors from the French frigate La Badine boarded her and took her out to sea. 3 In 1 Norfolk Herald, Feb. 28, 1795. 2 Ibid., Jan. 28, 1802. 3 Ibid., Jan. 29, 1803. 96 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port April, 1804, the Norfolk schooner Sarah, on her way from San Do¬ mingo to Norfolk with a cargo of coffee, was taken by a French privateer and sent as a prize to Cuba. 4 Especially thrilling was the case of the ship Eliza. This vessel, the property of Conway and Fortescue Whittle, was returning with rum from Jamaica when she was captured by a Frenchman. Captain Evans and his crew were put on shore on the Isle of Pines, where they remained three weeks, suf¬ fering from exposure and hunger. By working night and day they succeeded in constructing a raft, which bore them over to the Cuban shore. Here they spied the Eliza at anchor, manned by Frenchmen, but no longer under the protection of the privateer. Thereupon they “sallied out,” apparently on their raft, clambered on board, and made themselves masters of the ship. The French sailors were set ashore, the cargo removed to a safe spot, and the vessel burnt to prevent its recapture. 5 As the bitterness of the European struggle increased, conditions in the West Indies grew worse. It was calculated that from January 1 to July 1, 1805, one out of every four vessels plying between the United States and Jamaica was captured by French or Spanish priva¬ teers. 6 In May of the same year a vessel of ten guns, at times flying the French flag, at others the Spanish, stationed herself outside the Capes, robbing every merchantman she encountered. 7 From the re¬ newal of war in 1803 to August, 1805, French and Spanish privateers took no less than thirteen Norfolk vessels, including two ships, three brigs, seven schooners, and one sloop. The total value was $196,000, of which $120,000 was covered by insurance. 8 The Norfolk Gazette pleaded with the government to provide cruisers to convoy American vessels to the West Indies, but with little effect. Not until the mer¬ chants began arming their ships and sailing in fleets did they secure a measure of safety. In the fall of 1805, when two ships of twenty guns and several schooners of from four to eight guns encountered a French privateer on their way from Port-au-Prince to the United States, they had little difficulty in driving her off. 9 But it was not always possible for the ships to go in groups, and 4 Norfolk Gazette and Public Ledger, Sept. 18, 1804. 5 Ibid., Sept. 18, 1804 and April 10, 1805. 6 Ibid., Aug. 5, 1805. 7 Ibid., May 24, 1805. 8 Ibid., Aug. 5, 1805. 9 Ibid., Oct. 11, 1805. Coercion—Peaceful and Otherwise 97 news of captures was constantly filtering into Norfolk. In September, 1807, the town was aroused by the intelligence that the brig Sumner had been taken, and its crew subjected to ill treatment. The Sumner was on its way to Norfolk from Jamaica when she was brought to by the Revenge, a French privateer manned by a motley crew of French, Spaniards, and Italians. The brig was conducted to Philipia bay, in Cuba, where the captain and crew were robbed of all their pos¬ sessions, and, half-naked, were transferred to another prize, the Catherine-Eliza of New York. This little vessel, overcrowded, with a very short allowance of food and water, was fortunate to reach New York in safety. The Sumner, with its own cargo as well as that of the Catherine-Eliza, was taken to a port on the Spanish Main, where it was condemned. 10 Serious as were the depredations of the French privateers, they were overshadowed by those of the British. The government at Lon¬ don was determined to use its naval supremacy to isolate the French West Indies and deprive them of colonial imports, and, having driven most of the French merchantmen from the sea, would not permit American vessels to take their place. So they placed food and pro¬ visions on the contraband list and, declaring a “paper blockade” of the French islands, sent over their frigates to enforce it. Before the war was a year old, the Norfolk merchants were complaining of the “arrogance and insolence” of British captains and the British courts. At a meeting of Norfolk and Portsmouth citizens, on March 14, 1794, a memorial to Congress was drawn up. They had beheld the dep¬ redations upon American commerce with indignation, they de¬ clared, and would not be silent when the honor and interest of the whole country was involved. The seizing of American vessels, their detention in British ports, their condemnation by British courts could be stopped only by the Federal government. “We in Norfolk and Portsmouth would be exposed to ruin in case of war, but we will support war, if it is necessary to secure our rights.” 11 In fact, many in Norfolk thought war preferable to the existing situation. “If we were at war with England,” they said, “our vessels would leave armed and our privateers would retaliate. But now we have nothing to get but blows.” In November the merchants of Norfolk and Portsmouth again petitioned Congress asking that compensation for the seizures 10 Ibid.., Sept. 2, 1807. 11 Norfolk Chronicle, April 5, 1794. g8 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port by the British be insisted upon. The majority of those who signed were “not victims of these piracies,” but were directed by sympathy for their fellow citizens. 12 Yet the seizures continued year after year, many accompanied by unnecessary insults and abuse. On October 1, 1805, the brig Ann Elizabeth, on her way from Malaga to Norfolk, was brought to by an armed British brig of fourteen or sixteen guns. Ten or twelve men came on board, armed with pistols and cutlasses, and proceeded to rifle the crew’s belongings. “They broke open my trunks,” stated Captain Williams, “took away my wearing apparel, $200 in cash, my watch, hat, shoes, hammock, and sheets, did not leave me one shirt . . . , all my navigation books; also my mate’s clothes and $20, also . . . destroyed my papers and accounts. They beat the mate and people most dreadfully.” Finding the brig’s papers regular, they told them to proceed. As the Ann Elizabeth slowly drew away in the light breeze, the British let loose a full broadside, with round and grape, cutting the rigging and sails, and splintering the hull in many places. 13 The bitterness caused by such incidents was heightened by the constant impressment of American sailors. With the enormous ex¬ pansion of American trade and the growth of American shipbuild¬ ing, it became a serious problem to find sailors. The shipyards could turn out a brig in twelve months, but it took years to make a real jack-tar. The Norfolk skippers could not take on a farm hand or a wood chopper and expect him to know the difference between the main mast and the jib boom. So they, like owners in the northern states, began signing up British sailors, whenever they could induce them to desert. Nor was this difficult. Life on board the British war vessels and merchant ships was desperately hard, with unwholesome food, rigid discipline, low wages, and brutal punishments. When a British vessel came into an American port it was usual for one or more sailors to jump overboard and swim ashore, there to take out naturalization papers, assume new names, and sign up on some American vessel at twice or three times their former wages. Albert Gallatin stated that of the four thousand seamen required to man the seventy thousand tons of new shipping turned out each year, half were British, presumably deserters. 14 12 Ibid., Nov. 20, 1794. 13 Norfolk Gazette and Public Ledger, Oct. 23, 1805. 14 Wertenbaker, The American People, A History, pp. 181, 182. Coercion—Peaceful and Otherwise 99 Great Britain was not inclined to submit to this kind of thing. If her ships were undermanned, her commerce must lag, her sea power would decline, and she would be unable to resist the giant blows of Napoleon. So the British frigates took to stopping American vessels on the seas, lining up the crew on deck, and taking off all the British tars on board, with perhaps an American or two thrown in. In April, 1795, a British sloop-of-war stopped the ship Harriot, as she was about to enter the Capes, and sending an officer on board to inspect her papers and crew, took off three men, two of them Americans. They were on the point of impressing the mate, also, but were finally persuaded to leave him. 15 Quite similar was the case of the Charles Carter. This ship sailed from Norfolk, on July 23, 1803. When six leagues off Cape Henry, she fell in with the British frigate Boston, which took off four of the crew, all of them Americans who had recently shipped in Norfolk. The Boston then proceeded to Hampton Roads. Here one of the impressed sailors, Augustus Topham, rather than remain on what the Americans called a “floating hell,’’ braved the danger of drowning by swimming ashore. 16 Public sentiment in Norfolk, while resenting these injuries, was strongly in favor of removing all excuse for their perpetration. The entire crew of a foreign merchant ship in any Virginia port might desert, and the master be powerless to force them back. If he appealed to the magistrates, it would avail nothing, for the law provided a severe penalty for them should they attempt to interfere. In 1804 the Norfolk representative in the House of Delegates sponsored an act to discourage desertion from merchant vessels. 17 “We believe that the people are not inclined to go to war in order that our flag shall pro¬ tect British deserters,” wrote one Norfolk editor. “As advocates for a national navy we do not wish to see foreign seamen employed in our merchant ships, because those form a nursery for seamen for our navy. . . . The foreigners are not to be relied upon when we fight their own country.” 18 Nonetheless, the people of the borough con¬ tinued to press for action on the part of Congress for the protection of their rights. A crowded meeting in the Town Hall in February, 1806, passed a series of resolutions, declaring that “Great Britain has shown her hostile temper towards the United States, by impressing our citizens into her service, and compelling them to fight her battles, and 15 Norfolk Herald, April 22, 1795. 16 Ibid., Aug. 4, 1803. 17 Norfolk Gazette and Public Ledger, Jan. 30, 1805. 18 Ibid., Aug. 12, 1807. ioo Norfolk: Historic Southern Port to contribute to the capture and plunder of their own countrymen, by her various abuses of the law of blockade, by the new principle which she hath prescribed as a part of the law of nations, and by which she effectually blockades the whole of every nation with which she is at war.” 19 In June, 1807, the people of Norfolk were thrown into a passion of humiliation and anger by the attack of the British frigate Leopard upon the Chesapeake, ten miles off Cape Henry. The American cruiser was just leaving for the Mediterranean, with a crew short- handed and untrained, her decks littered, her powder flasks and loggerheads stored. When the Leopard drew up beside her and Captain Humphrey announced that he intended to come on board to search for British deserters, she was in no condition to resist. Com¬ modore Barron, who was in command, made desperate efforts to clear the decks, but before this could be accomplished the British frigate poured in her whole broadside. The Americans held out for fifteen minutes, and only after three had been killed, eighteen wounded, and the vessel riddled, did they lower their colors. The British then came on board, picked out four alleged deserters, three of them Americans, and left the luckless Chesapeake to limp back to Hampton Roads. 20 As news of this outrage filtered into Norfolk, the people, dum- founded and incredulous, swarmed out in rowboats to every vessel which came in from the Capes, to question the crews or passengers. When, at last, they saw approaching a boat conveying eleven wounded men, all doubts were dispelled, and Norfolk gave itself up to thoughts of revenge. ‘‘Greatly as we have always deprecated war,” wrote the editor of the Gazette, “conscious as we are that our country will experience infinite distress, we look upon it as degrading beneath contempt if we are to submit to such an insult.” 21 At a meeting in Town Hall the crowd found it impossible to jam into the building and so adjourned to the “large church.” Resolutions were passed ex¬ pressing indignation and horror at the attack upon the Chesapeake, and promising support to the government in securing satisfaction. They were determined to refuse all intercourse with the British ships of war, either by providing them with pilots or by selling them supplies or water. A subscription was opened for the wounded and for the families of the killed. 22 19 Ibid., Feb. 14, 1806. 2 ° Wertenbaker, The American People, A History, pp. 183-185. 21 Norfolk Gazette and Public Ledger, June 24, 1807. 22 Ibid. Coercion—Peaceful and Otherwise 101 On June 27, Robert MacDonald, one of the injured sailors, died of his wounds. His funeral the next day became the occasion for the expression of the public humiliation. As the body was brought across the river from the hospital to the county wharf, attended by a pro¬ cession of boats, the American shipping kept their colors at half-mast, while minute guns were fired by the artillery on shore. No less than four thousand citizens were waiting at Market Square, and while the coffin was being landed, formed themselves in a long procession. In the lead were the Junior Volunteers, the minister, the committee, the surgeons of the hospital; then came the coffin, attended by pallbearers selected from masters of vessels in the river; next in order were the captains, mates, and seamen; then the band, with drums muffled; next the United States officers, the volunteer companies, the borough offi¬ cers, and last a long line of citizens in columns of fours. The proces¬ sion marched up Catharine Street to Freemason Street, thence to Christ Church, where Mr. Davis delivered the funeral sermon. 23 In the meanwhile, active preparations were under way to fortify Norfolk. In a crowded meeting at the Exchange Coffee House, the young men formed themselves into a volunteer company; slaves by the score worked feverishly to put Fort Norfolk in repair; powder was col¬ lected and stored; Commodore Stephen Decatur directed the sailors in the work of rigging and arming the dismantled government gunboats. Then the State militia began arriving, the Richmond Light Infantry Blues, the Republican Blues, a company from Petersburg. If there was to be war, Norfolk was going to put up a strenuous fight. 24 For a few days it seemed that hostilities might start at once. Com¬ modore John E. Douglas, commander of the British fleet in Hampton Roads, because of the refusal of the citizens to have intercourse with his ships, thought that an attempt would be made to prevent com¬ munication between him and the British consul in Norfolk. On July 3 he sent a menacing letter to Mayor Richard E. Lee. “I am determined,” he wrote, “if this infringement is not immediately annulled, to pro¬ hibit every vessel bound either in or out of Norfolk, to proceed to their destination, until I know the pleasure of my government. . . . You must be perfectly aware that the British flag never has, nor will be insulted with impunity.” Mayor Lee’s reply, written on July 4, was both spirited and biting. “The day on which this answer is written, aught of itself to prove to the subjects of your sovereign, that the American people are not to be intimidated by menace. . . . Seduced 23 Ibid., June 29, 1807. 2 i Ibid., July 1, 3, 13, 1807. io2 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port by the false show of security, they may be sometimes surprised and slaughtered, while unprepared to resist a supposed friend; that delusive security is now however passed forever. The late occurrence has taught us to confide our safety no longer to anything but our own force. We do not seek hostility, nor shall we avoid it. We are prepared for the worst you may attempt. . . . We therefore leave it with you either to engage in war, or to remain on terms of peace.” To make it clear that there would be no interruption of communication with the British consul, the mayor added, “Your letters directed to the British consul at this place have been forwarded to him.” 25 This reply was delivered to Commodore Douglas by L. W. Taze¬ well on July 6. He was received courteously in Douglas’ own cabin on the Bellona, where the captains of the squadron were assembled. Si¬ lently the letter was passed around the circle, while the faces of the officers showed that they grasped the seriousness of the situation. Fi¬ nally Douglas spoke. His letter had been misunderstood, he said. He had no orders to start hostilities with the United States, and nothing was more remote from his intentions. What he had written could not properly be construed as insulting and menacing. And so the immedi¬ ate crisis passed. But it left the people of Norfolk still smarting. “We would ask who was it that first departed from the usual course?” asked the Gazette. “If the Chesapeake had deserters from the British navy, why not leave that affair to the two governments? The fact, as it appears to us, is that Commodore Douglas is disposed to leave the gov¬ ernments to act only when the force he commands cannot operate.” 26 The storm of indignation which gripped the nation at the news of the attack on the Chesapeake did not persuade President Jefferson that war was necessary. Jefferson was a man of peace. So he contented himself with a proclamation requiring armed British vessels to leave American waters and prohibiting intercourse with them, and then sought reparations through the usual diplomatic channels. This course seemed tame to the Norfolk people, who had seen the crippled Chesa¬ peake return to Hampton Roads, and the wounded sailors brought to the hospital; but as passions cooled, they became reconciled to it. “Nothing could have been more judicious,” said one editor. The proclamation “will no doubt induce a powerful movement in the people of England, who . . . will insist on the government’s rendering us justice. ... If the British government should sanction the conduct 25 Ibid., July 6, 1807. 28 Ibid. Coercion—Peaceful and Otherwise 103 of Admiral Berkeley, or refuse to punish him, war must be the conse¬ quence.” 27 Norfolk was to have five more years of peace, such as it was, before the British cannon were actually pounding at her gates. But the Chesapeake-Leopard affair had given ample warning of what lay ahead. Impressments and seizures continued; Americans were still robbed and insulted on the high seas; something must be done to protect our rights and to prepare for war. Although the experience of Norfolk in the Revolution made her sensitive to the condition of the river defenses, the War Department could not be induced to keep them in repair. In 1802 Secretary of War Henry Dearborn visited Norfolk and gave orders for the dismounting of Fort Norfolk, and the creation of a new fort at Ferry Point in what is now Berkley. This bit of stupidity stirred the Norfolk Herald to sarcastic comment. A fort situated here, above both towns, it said, ‘‘is an invincible protection to the little place called Kemps, ten miles up the Eastern Branch, and to Great Bridge, twelve miles up the Southern Branch, to both of which places a lighter for wood can go with tolerable safety on the flood tide.” So the people learned to rely on their own efforts to keep Fort Norfolk and Fort Nelson in condition, and at the first alarm of war hastened out, pick and shovel in hand, to work on the crumbling ramparts. Jefferson’s plan of putting the American frigates in dry dock and entrusting the defense of our rivers and harbors to a fleet of little gun¬ boats, came in for unending derision. ‘‘We understand Gun-boat No. 1 was by the late storm safely moored in the middle of a corn-field,” stated the Gazette . 28 “The gunboats were planned by Mr. Jefferson himself, upon principles altogether new, but, withal, perfectly philo¬ sophical. From the dissection of a gnat to the construction of a man- of-war, our beloved chief is equally useful.” 29 When a French privateer seized the schooner Anna-Maria, in January, 1805, in sight of the Cape Henry lighthouse, the editor asked, “What has become of our gun-boats, those redoubtable defenders of our trade? Why do they not come forward and protect our trade, which is insulted in our very harbors?” 30 Seven years later, when the American frigates were showing their mettle in single combat with the English, the Gazette returned to the subject. “What will be said of that wretched system of gun-boats, on which millions have been expended, that ought to have been spent on an efficient navy?” 27 Ibid., August 3, 1807. 28 Ibid., Sept. 20, 1804. 29 Ibid., Nov. 1, 1804. 30 Ibid., Jan. 18, 1805. Norfolk: Historic Southern Port 104 The only safe policy, thought the people of Norfolk, was to build as many frigates and ships-of-the-line as the finances of the nation would permit. With a number of swift-sailing cruisers to convoy the American merchantmen, seizures and impressments would be less fre¬ quent; with a respectable navy to reckon with in case of war, the Euro¬ pean countries would not be so free with their insults. “We have al¬ ways held one opinion, that to avoid war, we must show that we are not afraid of it or its consequences,” said the Gazette. This paper sug¬ gested the construction of seven ships-of-the-line, eight frigates, three sloops of war, and four bomb ketches, to carry in all nine hundred and eight guns, and to cost $2,655,000. But President Jefferson was obdu¬ rate. We are not justified, he said, in running into debt to prepare for some future war we know not when. So, far from adopting a pro¬ gram of naval construction, he would not keep in condition the few frigates already built. “Foreign nations must form a high opinion of our energy and activity,” it was complained, “when they observe the whole attention of the Navy Department directed to one frigate, and that she can be got to sea in something less than six months.” 31 Jefferson, however, put his trust in something else than frigates. While Great Britain was trying to weaken France with her Orders in Council, while Napoleon was retaliating with his arbitrary decrees, while Americans found it difficult to engage in foreign commerce of any kind without seizure and confiscation, the President remained con¬ fident. He could bring the war-maddened powers to reason, he be¬ lieved, by his policy of peaceful coercion. Calling his cabinet about him, he took a loose sheet of paper and wrote out a message to Congress, recommending an embargo on foreign trade. When Britain realized that the American market was closed to her manufactures, he thought, that her imports from the United States were cut off, that her West India islands were suffering for provisions, she would be forced to do us justice. The shipping centers protested, but the embargo bill was rushed through both Houses, and on December 22, 1807, Jefferson affixed his signature. The embargo forbade the departure of any ships for foreign ports, while coasting vessels were required to give bond to put in only at ports of the United States. With a stroke of the pen Jefferson threw thousands of sailors out of employment, paralyzed the shipping business, and cut off imports and exports totaling $246,- 000,000. In Norfolk there was a general scamper to load the vessels in port 31 Ibid., Jan. 26, 1807. Coercion—Peaceful and Otherwise 105 and get away before the embargo took effect. An interesting case is that of the Cape Cod skipper, Elijah Cobb, whose vessel was tied up at Norfolk when the news arrived. Cobb had to store one hundred tons of ballast, secure a crew, take on three thousand barrels of flour, stow away provisions, water, and fuel, secure clearance papers, and get the ship to sea, all between Friday afternoon and Sunday morning. So he set two gangs of stevedores to work, one discharging ballast at the main hatch, and the other taking on flour forward and abaft. At noon on Saturday he asked for his papers. “Why Cobb,” said the collector, “what is the use of clearing the ship, you cannot get away. Even if you get your ship below, I shall have boats out that will stop you.” Nonetheless, as Cobb insisted, he drew up the papers. In the mean¬ while the skipper had gone the rounds of the sailors’ boarding houses, engaged his crew, and paid their landlords for back board. At 8 a.m. on Sunday morning, two hours before the embargo came in force, he weighed anchor and dropped down the river with the tide. Unluckily the wind died out, and it was 1 x o’clock before he drew into the Roads. An hour later, Cobb spied a boat approaching “with sail and oars,” and realized that the collector was making good his promise to inter¬ cept him. “Well,” he said to his mate, “we are gone.” But at the same moment he saw a fresh breeze coming from the south, and ordered all the light sails out. When the boat was so close that the features of the men could be seen, the sails bellied out and the ship pulled away. Cobb headed for Cadiz, where he sold his flour at the enormous price of $20.00 a barrel. 32 The embargo proved disastrous to Norfolk. Her warehouses were locked, her wharves empty, the ships in port moved away to fresh water to avoid the worms, property values declined, many merchants faced ruin, her shipyards were idle, her artisans out of work, hundreds of sailors walked the streets or packed their bags to leave for foreign countries, the gangs of Negro stevedores loafed in the back alleys, the taverns and boarding houses were without guests. The more substan¬ tial citizens sat around in their homes or offices, with overcast faces, discussing the folly of the administration. If the embargo were in¬ tended to distress Great Britain, it would certainly fail of its purpose. The British had long complained of the desertion of their seamen; well, the embargo was driving them back again. Already hundreds had left Norfolk. As for the West Indies, they were getting some supplies from Canada, some from Europe. Moreover, they were beginning to 32 Elijah Cobb, A Cape Cod Skipper, p. 64. io6 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port raise their own food, and so were making themselves forever inde¬ pendent of the United States. Certainly, also, Great Britain could have no serious objection to a measure which forced her chief competitor out of the carrying trade. It was well enough for the planters to accuse Norfolk of selfishness in opposing the embargo, but the planters did not have to lose their all. True, tobacco had fallen from $6.00 a hun¬ dred pounds to $3.50, and flour was selling for only $4.50 a barrel, but the farmer could keep his produce in his barn and wait for better times. But the trader’s entire income was cut off, the value of his estate had sunk by half, if he had pressing obligations he fell into the sheriff’s hands. “Will it not appear wonderful that persons who have contended for commercial rights, suddenly abandon all commerce,” complained the Gazette, “who lately rejected any accommodation with Great Britain unless the rights of our seamen were effectually protected, should sud¬ denly adopt a line of policy, that must force these seamen into the service of that or some other country, or leave them to starve?” How can one contemplate calmly a total cessation of commerce? “Better, far better would it have been for the nation to have incurred a debt of $100,000,000 or more, for military and naval preparations, than to pursue a policy which leads to national bankruptcy, and to the de¬ struction of all public spirit.” 33 We get a glimpse of how far-reaching were the effects of the em¬ bargo from the complaints of a Nansemond tar-burner. This man had on hand two hundred barrels of tar, one hundred barrels of tur¬ pentine, and twenty thousand staves. The stopping of exports had ruined the sale for these products, so that he could get hardly seventy- five cents a barrel for the tar and turpentine, while the staves were worth nothing. A neighbor who owned a raft, formerly employed in carrying produce from Suffolk to Norfolk, by which he supported his family, was now literally starving. At Washington they may call this “preserving our resources, but so long as the present measure lasts, we cannot see that we have any resources to preserve.” 34 Amid this universal suffering, it was the seamen who fared worst. These poor fellows were like fish out of water. They could not secure even odd jobs to tide them over the period of idleness, because un¬ employment was almost universal. Many an honest tar, his little earn¬ ings exhausted, his wife and children hungry, his furniture, clothes, 33 Norfolk Gazette and Public Ledger, April 25, 1808. Ibid., March 16, 1808. Coercion—Peaceful and Otherwise 107 and tools sold, took to drink to forget his misery. “We might as well shut up shop,” declared William Couper, “for there is nothing but dullness and complaining. . . . Working people’s wages here is al¬ most reduced to nothing on account of nothing to be done.” 35 To make matters worse, the Federal government dismantled a number of gunboats at Norfolk, throwing one hundred and seventy more sailors out of work. The mayor called a meeting of citizens in March to devise measures of relief, but it was impossible for “a community bowed down by their own sufferings” to contribute largely to charity. 36 In December, 1808, there were three hundred persons in the borough supported by public bounty, and perhaps as many more by private charity. The number of those whose pride kept them from asking aid cannot be estimated. With the approach of autumn, the complaints of the Norfolk citi¬ zens grew louder. “Twelve months continuation of the present meas¬ ures, and the area which is covered by the town of Norfolk will be worth more as a field for cultivation, than . . . with its numerous and costly buildings [as a port]. . . . To the next election alone can we look for safety.” 37 The merchants feared that even when the embargo was lifted, they would not regain their markets. Spain, Portugal, and other European countries were getting supplies from the East, the West Indies, and from Canada. A letter from Jamaica tended to con¬ firm the worst fears. “We consider the embargo helpful to Jamaica,” it said. “We are raising our own provisions, splitting our hogshead staves and headings, while we get out puncheons from Quebec. Every day we feel ourselves more independent of you and laugh at the policy of your government.” An Antigua planter wrote in similar vein. “I shall raise enough provisions to supply my estate for one year from January 1 next, so that I shall want only a little corn for my horses and mules, instead of buying three thousand bushels a year, and all my brother planters are as well off.” 38 There were occasional violations of the embargo by Norfolk men. Taking on a cargo of flour, they would secure clearance papers for New York or Boston, and then head for the West Indies. This brought a swarm of Federal officers down on the town to pry into the merchants’ business, look over their books, and examine their cargoes. They had 35 Letters of William Couper, March 15, 1809. (Transcript copies in possession of Colonel William Couper, of Lexington, Va.) 36 Norfolk Gazette and Public Ledger, March 14, July 29, 1808. 37 Ibid., Sept. 2, 1808. 38 Ibid., Nov. 16, Dec. 14, 1808. 108 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port directions to detain any coaster whose cargo was “unusual,” and in their zeal greatly hampered the legitimate northern trade. “Richmond flour is generally consumed in every considerable seaport in the United States,” the merchants complained, “for the northern bakers prefer it to their own. And so far from the shipments this year being unusually large, less than twenty-eight thousand barrels have left Richmond in the past four months. This is less than half the amount for the same months last year. Surely the President will not deprive us of this little remnant of our trade, merely on the suspicion that one or two ships have slipped away to Jamaica?” 39 Early in March came the joyful news that the embargo act had been repealed, and Norfolk burst into activity. True, non-intercourse with Great Britain and France was continued, but even the most inexperienced trader knew that there were ways of circumventing this restriction. He could take on flour, beef, tobacco, or lumber, secure clearance papers for some Spanish port, and upon his arrival there sell his cargo to Frenchmen or Britishers, who, in turn, would take it to France or England or one of their colonies. So the Norfolk wharves once more were alive with merchants, clerks, sailors, and stevedores,' the Elizabeth was dotted with sails. “Commerce has again spread her swelling wings to favorable gales,” it was said. In less than a week after the reopening of trade, eight vessels had left for St. Jago de Cuba, and four for St. Bartholomew’s, the two ports selected as entre¬ pots of the new trade, while others had headed for Cadiz, Sweden, Buenos Aires, Havana, or Algeciras. It seemed that Norfolk would soon be more prosperous than ever. But early in May many of the first shippers were returning dis¬ appointed. They had found St. Jago glutted with produce, prices had fallen, the cost of transhipment for bulky goods such as tobacco and flour had been heavy. So trade lagged once more, conversation in the coffee houses turned again to criticisms of the administration. In the days before the embargo, all of the trade to the British colonies had been carried on in American bottoms, they said, and 80 per cent of that to Great Britain. Now the American produce went only so far as St. Jago, Amelia Island, or St. Bartholomew’s in our ships, while Eng¬ lish vessels secured the carriage from these points to Great Britain. On one day alone, there were seventy-five British ships at Amelia. Obvi- 39 The extent of the coasting trade may be judged by the marine lists of the Norfolk papers. The Gazette for Oct. 31, 1808, listed only one schooner bound for Richmond, one for Boston, and a brig for New Orleans. Coercion—Peaceful and Otherwise 109 ously non-intercourse was a failure, for instead of stopping trade be¬ tween the United States and Great Britain, it merely aided British shippers at the expense of Americans. 40 To make matters worse, seizures by both British and French con¬ tinued. In June, 1809, the sloop Venus was boarded off the Isle of Pines by a privateer, supposed to be French, and robbed of provisions, stores, a boat, a quadrant, clothes, and some sugar. 41 In the spring of 1810, the Norfolk ships Susan and Eliza were detained in France, while their captains were thrown in prison, and the crews treated with great cruelty. “We were marched through the town tied together like felons,” wrote one of the men, “and for five days fed on bread and water only.” 42 Later news arrived that three more Norfolk vessels had been detained by the French, the Fame at Calais, and the Planter and the Vigilant at Amsterdam. “If our vessels go to any port of Europe except Great Britain,” complained the merchants, “they are seized by Napoleon. If they go to Great Britain, they are seized by the United States when they come home. Between the Emperor and Mr. Madison, our merchants, shipwrights, and all concerned in commerce may soon cease their avocations.” 43 The bitterness against France expressed it¬ self in an act of violence against the privateer Ravanche de Cerf, at anchor in the Elizabeth. On the night of April 15, 1811, when the crew was on shore two boats filled with armed men came alongside, over¬ powered two youths left as a guard, and placing a tub of combustibles in the hold, set it on fire. The ship burned to the water’s edge. 44 Norfolk was opposed to the War of 1812. Her merchants were ready to do their part in upholding the honor of the nation, but they con¬ sidered it folly to lock horns with the greatest naval power of the world, when our own navy was insignificant. “How can we fight without frigates and ships-of-the-line?” they asked. “Will Mr. Jefferson’s gun¬ boats protect our commerce? Can they prevent the enemy from block¬ ading our ports? Can they even defend our rivers and harbors?” But when war was actually declared, Norfolk prepared to make the most af a bad situation by putting her defenses in readiness and by sending aut a bevy of privateers. Late in the summer of 1812 the armed schooner Mars, of Norfolk, captured the British brig Leonidas, of ten ^uns, and sent her, a prize, into Savannah. This was a rich haul, as her 40 Norfolk Gazette and Public Ledger, June 5, 1810. 41 Ibid., June 26, 1809. 42 Ibid., March 30, 1810. 43 Ibid., Feb. 25, 1811. 44 Ibid., April 17, 1811. i io Norfolk: Historic Southern Port cargo of sugar and coffee was worth fifty thousand dollars, and the brig itself twenty thousand dollars. 45 Nor was trade, even with Great Britain and her colonies, entirely interrupted. The British government made Bermuda a place of deposit for her islands, permitting American prod¬ ucts to land there from neutral ships. Later the West India governors w^ere empowered to open their ports even to United States vessels in case of dire need. 46 The Norfolk papers in October, 1812, were full of notices advertising English fall goods for sale. 47 It was said also that the British let the American vessels pass, in order to provision her armies in the Peninsula. “Our valuable coasting trade . . . has as yet been subject to but slight interruptions,” stated the Gazette. All in all, Norfolk suffered little during the first eight months after the declara¬ tion of war. But matters took a different turn in February, 1813, w'hen a British squadron came in the Capes and blockaded Chesapeake Bay. Before them fled the United States frigate Constellation, crowding on all sail to reach the protecting guns of Fort Norfolk. In her haste she missed the channel and ran aground in the river, but swarms of citizens came down in boats, and lightened her until she floated. 48 She remained at Norfolk throughout the war, aiding greatly in its defense with her officers, crew, guns, and small boats. Many incoming merchantmen, less fortunate than the Constellation, were taken as they entered the Capes. An attempt was made also to break up the traffic down the James River to Norfolk. Two frigates, anchoring off Newport News, sent out an armed tender, which took a ship, two brigs, and three schooners, while a bevy of barges pursued a number of lighter vessels into shallow water and captured or drove them ashore. 49 On one oc¬ casion several of these barges were driven by the wind so far into the Roads that they could not get back to the fleet. One surrendered to the Constellation, while others were pursued up James River and captured by boats filled with militia. 50 At the moment when news reached Richmond that a powerful Brit¬ ish squadron was within the Capes, a large part of the Virginia militia, under General Joel Leftwich, w'as absent upon an expedition to the northwest. 51 Other detachments were called to the colors, however, 45 Ibid., Sept. 4, 1812. 46 Berms, American Struggle for the British West India Carrying Trade, p. 27. 47 Norfolk Gazette and Public Ledger, Oct. 19, 1812. 48 Jarvis Manuscript; Norfolk Gazette and Public Ledger, June 1, 1816. 49 Norfolk Gazette and Public Ledger, March 17, 20, 24, 1813. 50 Ibid., April 14, 1813. 51 Ibid., Dec. 12, 1812; March 13, 1813. Coercion—Peaceful and Otherwise 111 and rushed to Norfolk. The first to arrive was a Richmond company, followed by the Henrico Rifles, the Albemarle cavalry under Captain Carr, the Petersburg Blues, and a small body of regulars. 52 These, to¬ gether with the militia and volunteer companies of Norfolk, and the sailors from the Constellation and the merchant ships in port, made a very respectable force. The command was given to General Robert B. Taylor, an officer of energy and ability. Taylor found the men enthusi¬ astic but lacking in discipline, and poorly drilled and equipped. His first task was to whip them into an effective military machine. In many of the companies the officers were related to some of the privates, and on the road it was not unusual for one in the ranks to call out to the captain, “Uncle Tom, don’t march so fast,” or “Halt a little, Cousin Bill, till I tie my shoe.” General Taylor, therefore, broke up the com¬ panies, and distributed the men in new units, without regard to the locality. He then organized the companies into regiments, and began the arduous work of drilling and maneuvering. 53 Breastworks were thrown up at strategic points—on Lamberts Point, at the bridge over Tanner’s Creek, and at the junction of Church Street and Princess Anne Road. The British could expect a warm reception if they landed a force on the south shore of Hampton Roads and attempted to make their way over the creeks and inlets which separated it from Norfolk. To attack with any hope of success, they must approach by water, up the Elizabeth. But the river too was well guarded by Fort Norfolk, on the right bank below Smith’s Creek, and Fort Nelson on the site of the Naval Hospital. As they were equipped with twenty heavy pieces of irtillery, each manned by experienced gunners, it would be a haz¬ ardous matter for frigates or ships-of-the-line to run past them. But General Taylor was determined that the British vessels should never get up so high as these forts. Several miles down the river, near he left bank, is Craney Island, at that time connected with the shore by a narrow foot bridge. On the west side of the island he threw up redoubts, and on the east erected a fort. Upon these he placed two 24- oounders, one 18-pounder, and four 6-pounders, manned by 150 sea¬ men from the Constellation, four hundred militiamen, one company of riflemen, two companies of light artillery, and thirty men from Fort Norfolk. 54 In the river channel, stretching in a wide arc from Craney Island to Lamberts Point, were twenty gunboats, carrying one or 52 Ibid., Feb. 12; April 17, 1813. 53 Jarvis Manuscript; Norfolk Gazette and Public Ledger, June 2, 1813. 54 Norfolk Argus, June 22, 1855; Jarvis Manuscript, pp. 132, 133. 112 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port more 18-pounders, and commanded by experienced shipmasters. 55 Ar advancing British squadron would be exposed in front to the fire oi this mosquito fleet, and raked on their right from the batteries on the island. 55 In June a number of warships and transports, filled with marine; and soldiers, joined the British fleet, and preparations were made foi an attack on Norfolk. On June 21 the watchers on Craney Island saw the entire squadron move across Hampton Roads and anchor off the mouth of Nansemond River—four great ships-of-the-line, with theii frowning sides pierced by three tiers of guns; seven frigates, their grace ful lines suggestive of alertness and speed; three sloops-of-war; twc transport ships; and numerous smaller craft. On deck the red uniforms of the infantry could be seen plainly, and it w r as no longer to be doubted that a landing in force was in preparation. 57 That night the Americans waited at their post until daylight. The) were then permitted to rest. But when the British boats were seen tc make for shore filled with redcoats and marines, the call to arms was again sounded, as it was now obvious that the enemy intended to ad vance on Craney Island along the river bank. The Americans made their preparation with coolness, shifting some of the guns to the wesl side of the island and drawing up the militia behind them. The sail ors from the Constellation stood at the heavy guns at the breastwork, waiting for the signal to fire. At this moment some of the men, noticing that the colors were nowhere displayed, hunted up a pole and hoisted the Stars and Stripes. In the meanwhile the British had been lost to view in a pine forest on the plantation of Captain George Wise, but when several rockets, sent up as signals to the fleet, revealed their position, the batteries opened upon them. The gunners, using grape and canister, fired with great rapidity and precision. The British had not expected so hot a reception. As men began to drop, the line faltered, and then fell back. This part of the attack had failed in- gloriously. In the meanwhile, two long columns of barges, crowded with marines and sailors, approached the island from the west. In the lead was Ad- 55 Among these were John Nants, Richard I. Cos, David Hall, George Davis, Joseph Middleton, Briscoe I. Doxey, Joseph Melvin, and William Lee. Jarvis Manu¬ script, pp. 132, 133. 56 Ibid. 57 The force available for the attack consisted of one thousand regimentals, one thousand seamen, the Royal Marine Brigade of sixteen hundred men, four hundred marines, and three hundred Frenchmen taken in the Peninsula, in all 4,300 men (Norfolk Gazette and Public Ledger, June 23, 1813) . Coercion—Peaceful and Otherwise 113 Tiiral Warren’s beautiful barge, the Centipede, a brass 3-pounder nounted in the bow. The American gunners, cool and confident flom their victory over the land force, waited for them to get within ange. At last Captain Emerson shouted, “Now my brave boys, are you "eady? Fire!” The first discharge of grape and canister threw the head )f the British column into confusion. Several boats were sunk, leaving :heir men to struggle in the water, others were grounded. Still the lotilla advanced, the barges behind pressing on as those in front went iown. But no courage could face that merciless fire. At last a round hot passed through the Centipede diagonally, cutting off one man’s egs, and wounding several others. As the barge sank, orders were ssued to retreat, and the British oarsmen turned and pulled for their feet. So ended the attempt to capture Norfolk, Portsmouth, the Con- tellation, and the shipyard at Gosport. The victory of Craney Island hows how unnecessary was the disgrace which befell the nation a year ater when Washington was taken and the Capitol burned. 58 The British fleet, though repulsed in its attack on Norfolk, by no neans relinquished its grip on the trade of Virginia and Maryland. Stationing itself in Lynnhaven Bay, it kept a close guard over the en- rance to the Chesapeake. At times their barges entered the Roads, >r rowed a short distance up the James to intercept the traffic on that iver. 59 Occasionally a merchantman would elude the blockading ships, :ither by her swiftness or because her pilot was acquainted with chan- lels through which they were afraid to pursue. 60 Of twenty-nine ves- els among those which made the attempt to get out, one was captured n Chesapeake Bay, one taken at sea, and twenty-seven escaped. In addi- ion, five Norfolk privateers got to sea during the time of the block- de. 61 Moreover, the British, in their anxiety to watch the main entrance o Norfolk, left the back door wide open. The produce of all southeast Virginia began to pour into Albemarle Sound, whence it went out to oreign countries or further south to Wilmington or Charleston. Of flirty-seven vessels insured by one company for voyages between ^orth Carolina ports and the West Indies, thirty arrived safely, six /ere captured, and one lost at sea; of eleven vessels sailing to or from Europe, three were captured, and two lost at sea; of twenty-one 58 Jarvis Manuscript; Benson J. Lossing, Pictorial Field-Book of the War of 1812 New York, 1868), pp. 677-680; Norfolk Gazette and Public Ledger, June 23, 1813; orfolk Argus, June 22, 1855. 59 Norfolk Gazette and Public Ledger, November 27, 1813. so Ibid. 61 Norfolk Herald, June 5, 1818. ii4 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port coasters, nineteen arrived safely, one was captured, and another taken and recaptured. 62 The enemy were aware of this trade, but they found it most difficult to blockade the coasts of North Carolina. If their frigates should be caught by an eastern gale between Cape Look¬ out and Cape Hatteras, they could not clear the land on either tack; while in the calmest sea the Frying-pan shoals, and Cape Roman shoals made it hazardous for large vessels to approach the coast. 63 So the flour and tobacco of Richmond and Petersburg came down the James to Norfolk, whence it was shipped to Kempsville in light boats, and then overland about ten miles to North Landing. Here it was transferred to sloops, which passed through Currituck and Pamlico Sound to Beaufort. From this point larger vessels were constantly leav¬ ing for Europe, the West Indies, or Charleston. In the summer of 1813 about one hundred voyages were made from the ports of Pamlico and Albemarle to Wilmington without one capture, while between Wil¬ mington and Charleston there were only three captures. The insur¬ ance on goods going from Norfolk to Charleston was between 15 and 20 per cent. 64 In June, 1814, all Norfolk was thrilled by the passage of a vessel of twenty tons, laden with bacon, brandy, and other goods, through the Dismal Swamp canal from Scotland Neck, on the Roanoke River. The opening of this waterway, which connected the Southern Branch with the North River, greatly facilitated communication with the North Carolina sounds. 63 Unfortunately, at this moment all hope of foreign trade was lost because of the embargo of December, 1813. This act caught a number of Norfolk vessels in port at Charleston, and forced them to discharge and store their cargoes. The Norfolk merchants were still complaining of this, when news came that even the trade from Petersburg and Rich¬ mond to Norfolk in flour, wheat, meal, and corn had been prohibited. The government w r as determined that no provisions should fall into the hands of the enemy through the capture of river boats crossing from the James to the Elizabeth. This restriction seemed “arbitrary and useless” to the Norfolk traders, especially “since rice and spirits were still permitted to pass from Norfolk up the James, and whiskey, beef, pork, and butter from Baltimore to Norfolk.” 66 The New Year of 1815 found the people bitter and despondent. The 62 Norfolk Gazette and Public Ledger, June 21, 1815. 63 Ibid., Jan. 15, 1814. 64 Ibid. 65 Ibid., June 11, 1814. 66 Ibid., Feb. 2, March 14, 1814. Coercion—Peaceful and Otherwise 115 British blockade and the Federal restrictions together had paralyzed business. “Some years ago,’’ writes one observer, “walking through WIde-Water street, I was much incommoded by rum puncheons, sugar hogsheads, bales of goods, flour and tobacco hogsheads. I heard the Dawling of negroes as they hoisted these goods in and out of vessels, [ got the odor of tar and turpentine, I was in constant danger of break- ng my shins on the skids of passing drays. Recently I again went through Water Street, Market Square, and Main Street. No rum auncheons, no bales of goods, no sugar and tobacco hogsheads, no Dawling negroes, no drays passing. Instead of plodding merchants, and ousy clerks, I see only some military officers, ten or twelve idle youths, a few recruits, and a group of negroes. From the near-by dram shops :ome the fumes of egg-nog and cigars, and the sound of fiddles and :amborines.” The war and the restrictions it brought to her trade rad reduced Norfolk to a shadow of her former self. 67 At this moment, when all seemed dark, the town received the news rf Jackson’s great victory at New Orleans. It seemed “almost in¬ credible” that the undisciplined Westerners should have crushed ’akenham’s veterans, fresh from their triumphs in the Peninsula. The killing of two thousand Britishers with a loss of only twenty-one Americans seemed to Norfolk a just revenge for her own wrongs at he hands of the British—the Chesapeake affair, impressments and ieizures, the Orders in Council, the blockade of their harbor. But rride and satisfaction gave way to unbounded joy, when immediately lfter came the announcement that peace had been concluded—honor- ible peace with not an inch of territory ceded, not one of our rights urrendered. Once more the wharves became alive with industry, once nore ships began to come in from distant points; once more Norfolk 'essels cleared for Liverpool, London, Boston, New York, New Bed- ord. The Constellation hoisted sails, and amid the grateful cheers of he people, fell down the river on her way to New York. Peace, the ong hoped-for peace, was here at last. It remained to be seen whether t would restore the prosperity of the borough, whether her “sails vould whiten every sea,” or whether with the end of the conflict in iurope would come new restrictions to commerce and hard times for ter merchants, sailors, and artisans. 67 Ibid., Jan. 4, 1815. CHAPTER SIX The Town aud¬ its People In this clay of rapid changes, of tenseness and activity, it may be imagined that life in Norfolk a century and a quarter ago was hopelessly monotonous. To the people of that day it did not seem so. In place of moving pictures there were strolling entertainers and theatrical companies; as a substitute for football they had bandy, for baseball the races, for automobile rides, picnics at Lake Drummond. There were parties, school entertainments, and balls; there were the annual fair, the only too frequent excitement of fires, the Fourth of July parade, and the never-to-be-forgotten occasion when some dis¬ tinguished guest came to town—General Lafayette, or Louis Napoleon, or Colonel Robert Y. Hayne, or Henry Clay, or Stephen A. Douglas. Even in the eighteenth century Norfolk was visited from time to time by wandering performers, the predecessors of the modern circus. Some were tumblers and gymnasts, others ventriloquists, still others jugglers; some brought menageries. Among these early troupes was that of Mr. Godwin, who entertained with “lectures, paintings, transparencies, songs, catches and glees.” 1 More thrilling was the performance of Robertson and Sully, in the Long Room of Riffand’s Garden. After Robertson had given an imitation of birds, he and his partner threw back-somersaults from three tables and a chair piled one on the other. This was followed by an “astonishing leap” by Robertson over twelve men with fixed bayonets, and by music on the “much admired Egg Hornpipes.” Robertson closed the performance with the “Antipodean Whirligig,” in which he “whirled on his head at the rate of 250 a minute, without the assistance of his hands.” 2 This pair found a 1 Norfolk Journal, Nov. 12, 1788. 2 Norfolk Herald, Jan. 23, Feb. 2, 1802. ii7 The Town and. Its People worthy successor in Mr. Rannie, “so well known for his ventriloquel powers in Europe, etc.” Rannie informed Norfolk that his perform¬ ance stood almost alone, “as we have no accounts of any ventriloquist but three since the days of Adam or the Woman of Endor.” 3 Seven years later the people flocked to Matone’s Garden to see a pair of Bengal tigers. The management announced that “these curious ani¬ mals, lately imported from Surat, are the first that reached any part of the continent.” 4 By 1836 the circus had made its appearance at Nor¬ folk, a troupe giving a performance on a lot at the corner of Hill and Talbot streets. This was followed by an animal show containing an elephant, a lion, a tiger, a zebra, two leopards, a gazelle, a coypu, two hyenas, and numerous monkeys and South American birds. 5 Of a very different character was the lecture of Edgar Allen Poe on “The Poetic Principle,” in September, 1849. “Chaste and classic in its style of composition, smooth and graceful in its delivery, it had the happiest effect upon the fashionable audience. . . . His recita¬ tions were exquisite and elicited the warmest admiration. For about an hour every one present seemed charmed and delighted with the rich intellectual entertainment.” 6 Four years later a large audience at Mechanics Hall listened to the great violinist, Ole Bull, accompanied by the “musical wonder” Adelina Patti, then only eight years old. 7 Perhaps it was the large German group in Norfolk who were re¬ sponsible for the development of music in the town. So early as 1818 James H. Swindell, the organist of Christ Church, organized and trained a chorus of men and women. In May they gave a concert of sacred music, chiefly from Handel, before one thousand people, “the largest assemblage of beauty and fashion ever seen in Norfolk.” 8 In later years a number of young men, forming what they called the Philharmonic Association, continued the musical tradition. 9 The Norfolk people were devoted theatergoers. In colonial days a wooden pottery, in the rear of a lot on Main Street near King’s Lane, was converted into a theater. After the Revolution, so early as 1790, the people were flocking to see The Irish Widow, or the School of Scandal , 10 but there was no regular playhouse until 1793, when a 3 Ibid., Feb. 17, 1803. 4 Norfolk Gazette and Public Ledger, Jan. 12, 1810. 5 Norfolk Beacon, July 16, 1836. 6 Norfolk Argus, Sept. 17, 1849. 7 H. W. Burton, History of Norfolk (Norfolk, 1877) , p. 14. 8 Norfolk Herald, March 23, May 22, 1818. 9 Forrest, Sketches of Norfolk, pp. 238, 239. 10 Norfolk Chronicle, May 8, 1790. 118 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port wooden warehouse on Calvert’s Lane was used for that purpose. In 1795 a new brick theater was erected on the east side of Fenchurch Street, between Main and Bermuda, 11 where for many years profes¬ sional troupes and local amateurs had their performances. 12 “Last week our theatre opened,” said the Herald in February, 1802, “with a new comedy, ‘The Contrast,’ advertised as the virgin essay of an American genius. If the author’s future lucubrations are not the contrast to his first endeavors, we hope his productions will not be baptized in Nor¬ folk. Great negligence of scenery was observed; even the curtain wa«i left to Jonathan (Mr. Sully) who had not weight sufficient to influ¬ ence its descent.” 13 Despite an occasional failure of this kind, the theater was popular. “We do not recollect to have witnessed a greater display of ladies in any small theatre,” said the Herald of March 24, 1803, “and it is to be lamented they could not be more agreeably ac¬ commodated. Some ladies were annoyed, being surrounded by well- dressed noted damsels from Water Street, Bank Street, Lee’s wharf, etc.” Such persons and the sailors who accompanied them ought to be relegated to the galleries, thought the editor, so that decent people would not be offended by their “Bank street dialect.” In November, 1821, Norfolk was excited by the arrival of Junius Brutus Booth, then a young man of tw T enty-five. The people were sur¬ prised to find him a mere lad, who wandered around town in “an old straw hat and linen roundabout,” gazing at everything he saw. 14 His rendition of Richard III delighted his audience, the tent scene, which was called “a finished piece of action,” coming in for especial ap¬ plause. 15 With the passing of years Norfolk lost much of its interest in the stage. The theater fell into disrepair, and in April, 1833, it was sold to the Methodists, who used it as a house of worship until 1845, when it was destroyed by fire. 16 A few years later a Mr. George Jones started a movement which resulted in the erection of the Avon Theater, on the new public square, just east of the site of the present City Hall. 17 This building which seated from eleven hundred to twelve hundred persons, was classic in design, the interior handsomely decorated. The drop curtain was an object of admiration, with its painting of Pericles and Phidias, look- 11 Norfolk Herald, June 19, 1839. 12 Norfolk Beacon, Oct. 23, 1839; Forrest, Sketches of Norfolk, p. 253 n. 13 Norfolk Herald, Feb. 16, 1802. 14 Forrest, Sketches of Norfolk, p. 160. 15 Norfolk Beacon, Nov. 12, 1821. 16 Norfolk Herald, April 17, 1833. 17 Forrest, Sketches of Norfolk, p. 212; Norfolk Beacon, Oct. 23, 1839. The Town and Its People 119 ing out from Mars Hill upon the Acropolis. The theater faced west, and the beautiful portico with its Doric columns, its pilasters, and its bust of Shakespeare, could easily be seen across the Granby Street bridge from vessels coming up the river. 18 It was formally opened on October 17, 1839, with a presentation of Knowles’s Hunchback , 19 Un¬ fortunately the theater was destroyed by fire in February, 1850. 20 The Avon was not rebuilt, but in 1856 a new theater, later known as the Opera House, was opened by Henry C. Jarrett. 21 Here appeared, in the days before the Civil War, some of the ablest actors and actresses of the day—James E. Murdoch in several of Shakespeare’s plays, Mary Devlin in London Assurance , D. W. Waller in Hamlet, Joseph Jeffer¬ son, and Maggie Mitchell. 22 Although Norfolk did not produce a literary school of national dis- inction during the period before the Civil War, her citizens published /erse and prose in considerable volume. Forrest says that even the nerchants found time for writing. “Often while attending to the peculiar duties of his vocation, the man of business, who has the mind or the more exalted pursuits of literature, forms his plans, arranges ris thoughts, and then embraces the first opportunity to retire a while rom his merchandize, his books, his customers, and his dollars and 'ents, to commit them to paper. These casual and hasty attempts ometimes possess real merit.” The productions of the Norfolk writers ippeared in the local papers, or in the Southern Literary Messenger, >r perhaps were published separately as books of verse. One of the ablest writers of this period was Hugh Blair Grigsby '1806-1881), editor, biographer, scholar, and poet. Grigsby as a boy tudied under tutors and later entered Yale. From early youth he howed a predilection for biography, in his eighteenth year writing a eries of sketches of prominent Virginians. In 1827 he published the setters of a South Carolinian, while in 1890, nine years after his death, he Virginia Historical Society published his work on the Virginia f ederal Convention of ij88. Both are made up largely of biographical ketches. Grigsby’s editorial writing was clear, forceful, and logical, /hile he ranked high as an orator. His verse, although not large in olume, has considerable merit. Among the best of his poems are Hymn,” “I Cannot Die,” and “Lines to My Daughter.” Grigsby col- 18 Norfolk Beacon, Oct. 23, 1839. 19 Ibid., Oct. 16, 1839. 20 Forrest, Sketches of Norfolk, p. 252. 21 Burton, History of Norfolk, p. 25. 22 Ibid., pp. 25, 26, 29, 31, 24, 27. 120 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port lected a library of six thousand volumes, many of them formerly be longing to John Randolph, of Roanoke. 2211 Among the Norfolk poets of this period was William Maxwell, whose Walcott and Columbian Bards attracted attention in New England and abroad. William Roscoe ranked Maxwell among the best of the minoi American poets. Thomas Blanchard, “a ripe scholar, a fine classic writer, and a gifted poet,” was widely known for his ode “To the Memory of George Washington,” written in 1800. Richard Halstead signing himself “Quilp,” published a volume of verse in 1846. Anothei Norfolk poet, who contributed to some of the leading literary journals of the day, was Abram F. Leonard. His “Song of the Emigrants,” and “Ode to Solitude” are not without merit. Byron Walthall, whose early death ended a career of great literary promise, was the author ol “The Stag Hunter.” Other Norfolk writers of poetry were R. James Keeling, William Wallace Davis, and S. S. Dawes. 22 ” Perhaps Norfolk’s most famous poet was Abram Joseph Ryan, uni¬ versally known as Father Ryan. He was born at Norfolk in 1839. Enter¬ ing the priesthood of the Roman Catholic church, he became a chap lain in the Confederate army. After the war he moved to Augusta, Georgia, where he founded and edited The Banner of the South. In 1880 he published Poems, Patriotic, Religious and Miscellaneous: among them the “Conquered Banner,” “The Sword of Robert E. Lee,” “The Lost Cause,” etc. Father Ryan is the outstanding poet of the Confederacy, and his works were read in almost every household in the South. In the ante-bellum days Norfolk produced one distinguished sculptor —Alexander Galt. This young man had a distinct spark of genius. At fifteen he was drawing excellent pencil portraits, and a few years later went to Florence to study under the best Italian teachers. While there his bust “Virginia” and his “Psyche” were exhibited and attracted very favorable comment. Upon his return to the United States, he visited several Southern states, filling important orders, and everywhere showing a ripening talent. In 1856 he was again in Florence, where he executed his statue of Thomas Jefferson, for the library of the Uni¬ versity of Virginia. 221, Galt enlisted in the Confederate army and died of smallpox, in Richmond, on January 19, 1863. Many of his best 22a A. A. Brock, Virginia Federal Convention of 1788 (Richmond, 1890) , pp. v-xxi. 22b Forrest, Sketches of Norfolk, pp. 346-372. 220 When the Rotunda of the University, burned, a group of students took this statue from the pedestal, wrapped it in mattresses and brought it down the winding stairs to safety. 121 The Town and Its People tvorks were destroyed in the fire which accompanied the evacuation af Richmond in 1865. Ever popular with the Norfolk people was the race track. In the ;arly years of the nineteenth century the races were held at Thorow- jood’s Farm, in Princess Anne. 23 Here gathered a motley crowd— raily dressed ladies with their escorts, farmers, merchants, clerks, sail- irs, urchins, everyone who could get away from work. On one occasion when the harbor was full of shipping waiting for loading or un¬ loading, it was suggested that the races be prohibited, lest clerks, sailors md stevedores forget their duties to view this all-absorbing sport. 24 The races of 1802 lasted four days, the first being devoted to four-mile leats for a purse of $400, the second to two-mile heats for sweepstakes, :he third to three-mile heats, and the fourth to ladies’ and gentlemen’s degant saddle and bridle races. 25 There was good sport throughout, aut some of the jockeys were criticized for appearing in old and dirty ackets. 26 But the races were soon over, and then the young had to turn to :ards, billiards, cricket, 27 or bandy. The last named game was often alayed in the streets or in vacant lots, much to the disgust of passers-by. ‘The national, manly, and innocent game of bandy ought not to be uppressed by the officers of the police in the borough,” said a sarcastic irticle in the Herald. ‘‘The loss of an eye now and then by the force >f a ball helps the [medical] faculty a little, as the sickly season is >ver; and the panes of glass that are broken put a few dollars in the >ockets of the glazier. All trades must live and the practice of bandy, t is hoped, will be tolerated.” 28 If one were too old for cricket or bandy, he could seek amusement t the Vauxhall Gardens and baths, or Rosainville’s Bower, or Lind- ry’s Retreat, or the Museum of Nature, or the Wigwam Gardens. The Vigwam, on Briggs’ Point, was kept open all summer. It was “adorned r ith a variety of trees and flowers,” arranged to represent stars, the merican eagle, an elephant, a camel, lambs, Egyptian pyramids, etc. Refreshments of the best kind, good wines, and liquors, with com- laisant and attractive waiters,” together with “the pleasantness of the tuation,” were expected to lure all who wished to “unbend the 23 Norfolk Herald, Aug. 28, 1802. ^Norfolk Gazette and Public Ledger, Nov. 25, 1805. 25 Norfolk Herald, Oct. 2, 1802. 26 Ibid., Nov. g, 1802. 122 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port wrinkled brow of care.” The admission price, of one shilling and sixpence, commanded also ‘‘some value at the bar.” 29 Dancing was universal, and no young lady considered her education complete unless she knew the minuet, or could follow the intricate figures of the cotillion. Among the early masters was a certain Mr. Thuillier, who had a school for dancing and music in 1788. Two years later Joseph Martin opened a dancing academy in the Old Coffee House, opposite the Town Hall. He taught the most “approved methods of modern dances, together with the new figures, lately intro¬ duced into the polite world, with their proper steps and attitudes.” 30 Private dances were everyday occurrences, while Washington’s birth¬ day, or other great occasions, were frequently marked by formal balls. 31 October 22, 1824, was the never-to-be-forgotten day on which La¬ fayette visited Norfolk. The old general arrived on the Petersburg and was rowed to the county wharf in a handsome barge. With him were his son, Secretary of War Calhoun, General Taylor, General Cocke, George Newton, and others. As he mounted the wharf steps, a thrilling scene presented itself. On one side of Market Square were four com¬ panies of infantry, on the other a line of civic societies, between them, at Main Street, a beautiful arch, decorated with flowers and evergreens and bearing the words, “Welcome Lafayette.” The sidewalks, every window, many near-by roofs, and the shipping were crowded with people eager to do homage to the nation’s guest. After an address of welcome by Mayor John E. Holt, the general proceeded to the “elegant apartments prepared for him at Mrs. Hansford’s boarding house.’ That night the town was illuminated, Main Street being a “continuous blaze of light.” Many houses showed transparencies, with mottoes and words of welcome, while the shore front was lit up by forty-two bon fires. On Saturday afternoon there was a banquet at the Exchangt with plates for three hundred, and on Sunday the general paid a visit to Fort Monroe. There had been some misgivings concerning the grand ball, foi there was no floor in town capable of accommodating more than ont hundred and twenty-five couples. At last some one thought of the new custom house, on Water Street, then in course of construction. 32 A large 29 Ibid., June 22, 1802. 30 Norfolk Chronicle, April 24, 1790. 31 Norfolk Journal, Feb. 13, 1788. 32 The present custom house was completed in October, 1858. In 1800 the offict was located in a large building at the west end of Main Street. After that it wa: moved from place to place until the construction of the government building o 1824 on Water east of Market Square. 123 The Town and Its People force was set to work planing the rough floor and concealing brick walls and rafters with flags and decorations, so that on Monday night all was ready. Upon entering the door one passed down a hall through bowers of myrtle and ivy, and ascended richly carpeted steps. Here the “brilliancy of the ball room burst upon the sight with an over¬ powering effect.’’ Overhead was a thickly woven artificial ceiling of myrtle, ivy, and cedar boughs, apparently growing out of eight trees arising from the floor. From this green canopy were suspended in¬ numerable lamps in rows and circles, like “gems of various hues.” In the windows were illuminated transparencies, depicting “landscapes, cascades, etc.” At one end of the room was a sofa, reserved for the gen¬ eral, decorated with banners and overhung with evergreens and roses. By eight o’clock Secretary Calhoun arrived, after which the room rapidly filled. The handsomely gowned women and military and naval officers in their dress uniforms added to the brilliancy of the scene. While waiting for the general many couples promenaded around the room to the music of the violins. At last, at nine, Lafayette came in, md was led to his seat. Thereupon the orchestra struck up, and danc¬ ing began. After the first cotillion the general was conducted around :he room and introduced to the ladies. At 10:30 the company sat down .0 supper, and at 11:30 Lafayette left to take the boat for Richmond. 33 Prior to 1850 the Fourth of July was invariably celebrated with processions, oratory, and feasting. The observance of the day in 1831 vas typical. Long before the procession started, the line of march was ;rowded with spectators, who looked on from the sidewalks, porticos, loorways, and windows. The militia led the way—the Independent Volunteers, the Light Artillery Blues, the Junior Volunteers. Next :ame the tailors, bearing a banner depicting Adam and Eve, with the notto: “Naked and ye clothed me.” The blacksmiths, riding on a nounted platform drawn by two fine horses, worked busily with forge, lellows, and anvil, and after completing various simple articles, dis- ributed them to the crowd. The carpenters also plied their trade in . moving workshop. The next car, with the stone-cutters, masons, bricklayers, and plasterers, represented the brick and stone foundation If a building and men at work slaking lime and laying brick. Other ars followed depicting in like manner the work of tanners, curriers nd morocco dressers; cordwainers; painters; hatters; coppersmiths, irass-founders, and tin-plate workers; gunsmiths, watchmakers and 33 Norfolk Beacon, Oct. 25, 27, 29, 1824. I 124 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port silversmiths; ropemakers, shipwrights; and teachers with their pu¬ pils. The procession halted before the residence of Dr. N. C. White- head, at the corner of Catharine and Freemason streets, while all who could find seats crowded into Christ Church to hear Hugh Blair Grigsby deliver the oration. 34 Nineteen years later, when the South, was finding itself outvoted in Congress and its status as a minority sec¬ tion fixed permanently by the famous compromise of that year, the Fourth of July passed almost without notice. “It is a question whether the South have at this day any independence to boast of,” said the Argus, with a touch of sadness. 35 In the Norfolk of ante-bellum days, there were many able men, some of them known throughout the Union—the distinguished mer¬ chants Moses Myers, 36 William Pennock, Phineas Dana, and John Newell, Jr.; William Plume, the Irish immigrant who grew rich from the manufacture of rope; 37 Hugh Blair Grigsby, editor and historian; General Robert B. Taylor, soldier and jurist; Commodore James Bar¬ ron; William Wirt, attorney-general under Monroe; Governor Little¬ ton W. Tazewell; and Thomas Newton, who represented Norfolk in Congress for thirty years. 38 A visitor in 1828 describes Tazewell as a man of “middle size, and thin visaged; his countenance is grave, but intelligent, and his man¬ ners evince a highly cultured man.” 39 “Whoever regards his tall, spare form, and the unusual, yet dignified, motion of his limbs, his expres¬ sive countenance, his elevated forehead partially shaded by light gray¬ ish hair, curling negligently down his neck, his eye brows arched, . . . his cheeks furrowed . . . his lips remarkably thin and well- formed,” instinctively marks him as a man of unusual powers. 40 Com¬ modore Barron was “of middling height, and robust make. His face is round and full, and his countenance open, benevolent, and pleasing. His air and manners are altogether affable and gentlemanly.” 41 “In his family circle he was cherished with unspeakable fondness and affection; and this whole community, in which he was for so large a 34 Norfolk Herald, July 6, 1831; Forrest, Sketches of Norfolk, pp. 177, 178. 35 Norfolk Argus, July 6, 1850. 36 The beautiful residence of Moses Myers, on Freemason Street, is still standing, a monument to the architectural taste of the times. 37 Norfolk Gazette and Public Ledger, Feb. 23, 1807. 38 Forrest, Sketches of Norfolk, p. 55. 39 Anne Royall, The Black Book (Washington, 1828) , p. 254. 40 Forrest, Sketches of Norfolk, p. 384. 41 Royall, The Black Book, p. 258. The Town and Its People 125 portion of his life beloved and esteemed, will ever honor and revere his memory.” 42 Barron was a principal in an unfortunate duel. Commodore Decatur, famed for his exploits in Tripoli, having made some slurring remarks concerning Barron’s conduct in the Chesapeake-Leopard affair, the latter sent him a challenge. The duel was fought with pistols at Bladens- burg, Maryland. When all was ready, Commodore Bainbridge began to count, and at the word “two” both fired. Barron was wounded in the hip. Decatur stood for a moment erect, and then fell. ‘‘I am mortally wounded,” he said. “At least, I believe so, and I wish I had fallen in defence of my country.” He died the same evening in great agony. 43 Like other seaport towns, Norfolk had its share of grogshops and gambling houses, its brawls and murders. In the alleys leading from Water Street to Main were many “filthy, tobacco-impregnated bar¬ rooms,” and “licentious dance cellars,” where sailors drank and squabbled. On one occasion, in 1803, bands of drunken sailors rioted in the streets, creating great excitement and injuring a number of people with stones. One unfortunate had his head nearly severed from his body by a stroke with a shingle. 44 “From the almost continual riot¬ ing in the streets, sometimes for nights together, ... it might be doubted whether we have any police, or legal authority whatever, to arotect the peace of the borough,” complained the Gazette in Feb¬ ruary, 1805. At times the denizens of the tippling houses came forth, lot to fight, but to make night hideous with song. “Saturday night rbout twenty friends of mirth, fellows of fun, took it into their heads o let the inhabitants know they were alive,” said the Herald, “and vith something they conceived was music, but which no ear could •elish and no beast dance to, amused themselves and kept awake every :hild, and of course every nurse within the sound of their humdrum :oncert.” 45 Sometimes young men, drunk and armed, would resort to he theater, or public gardens, where they were a nuisance and a langer. 46 There was no organized crime in Norfolk, similar to that in many if our modern cities, but drinking and gambling not infrequently led o stabbings or shootings. In 1806 two brothers named Davis kept a 42 Forrest, Sketches of Norfolk, p. 275. 43 Ibid., pp. 274, 275. 44 Norfolk Herald, July 19, 1803. 45 Ibid., Oct. 2, 1802. 46 Ibid., April 16, 1802. 126 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port faro table on the third floor of a house in Water Street. One night an Italian named Colmini, having broken the bank, was accused of cheat¬ ing by the Davises and one of the other players. When they tried to seize him Colmini fled down the narrow, dark stairway and hid at the landing. As the three men in pursuit passed him, he gave each in turn a vicious stab with a stiletto, and then made good his escape. All of his victims died. 47 Fifteen years later Norfolk was stirred by the brutal murder of a Frenchman named Peter Lagaudette, by two Spaniards, Manuel Gar¬ cia and Jose Castillano. A young man named Cherry, happening to enter a frame building in the fields between Church and Cumberland streets south of Bute, was horrified to find the mutilated remains of a man. The torso w r as on the floor, the head, hands and feet badly burned were in the fireplace, the arms and legs in a tub. In a few minutes the whole town was aroused. It was learned that the two Spaniards, a villainous-looking pair, had occupied the house with Lagaudette, and a general alarm was sent out for them. They were arrested at Lamberts Point. It is supposed that the three men had quarreled over the division of booty attained by a robbery, and that the two Spaniards, having murdered Lagaudette, dissevered the body and attempted to dispose of the fragments piecemeal. They were tried for murder, found guilty, and executed. The hanging took place in a field near Portsmouth, in the presence of a crowd of between three thousand and four thousand persons. 48 Norfolk has always had a large proportion of Negroes. In 1820 in a total population of 8,608 there were 3,261 slaves and 599 free blacks; in 1830 with a total of 9,816 there were 3,757 slaves and 928 free blacks; in 1840 of 10,920 persons, 3,709 were slaves and 1,026 free blacks; in 1850 the total was 14,320, the slaves 4,295 and the free Negroes 957. The blacks served as cooks, waiters, chambermaids, nurses, washerwomen, coachmen, porters, and stevedores. The un¬ usually large proportion of free Negroes is explained by the fact that when plantation slaves were manumitted, they usually moved to town. There were some complaints of unruliness on the part of the blacks, but usually they were guilty of nothing more serious than gathering on vacant lots in Loyall’s Lane or Calvert’s Lane to play dice or five corns, or to skylark, or to pitch pennies. 49 The plot of 1802 w’as 47 Norfolk Gazette and Public Ledger, Nov. 24, 1806. 48 Library of Congress, Miscellaneous Papers, No. 724. 49 Norfolk Herald, May 19, 181 g. 127 The Town and Its People an exception. A group of Negroes conspired to rise on Easter of that year, set fire to the town, and make good their escape. One of their number made a confession, naming the guilty men. Every available white man was immediately called to arms, and for weeks, in April and May, the militia remained on duty night and day. 50 The two lead¬ ers, Jeremiah and Ned, were tried, convicted, and condemned to death. They were conveyed to the place of execution in a cart, and Jeremiah was turned off in the presence of a great crowd. When it became Ned’s turn and he stood trembling under the gallows, he re¬ ceived a reprieve and was conducted back to prison. 51 The people of Norfolk were not blind to the evils of slavery. Thoughtful men complained of the inefficiency of Negro labor and the diversion of European immigration from the South. When Mrs. Anne Royall visited the town in 1828, she thought the insolence of the blacks insufferable. “This is the case in most of the towns of Vir¬ ginia, and gives the lie to the reports charging them with cruelty to their slaves. But this slavery, nevertheless, is a great curse, as it takes all they make to feed and clothe them; they are, on every account, prejudicial to the country.” 52 Considerations such as these no doubt were influential in the forming of the Norfolk Colonization Society, 53 to aid in sending Negroes to Africa. In January, 1821, fifty Negroes sailed from Norfolk for Africa on the Nautilus, with clothing, furni¬ ture, tools, etc. With the vessel were a number of native Africans, ap¬ parently just rescued from slave dealers and on their way home. At the sight of these uncivilized creatures mingling with their American cousins, “all hearts were touched, and many eyes were filled with tears. After the service numbers came forward and joined the Society, while others gave contributions. Several poor blacks gave their little mites to their brethren who were going out.” 54 For many years after the Revolution, Norfolk was an unsightly town, built largely of wood, the narrow streets and lanes leading into Main from north and south crowded with ramshackle tenements. The lack of adequate drainage, the proximity of marshes and stagnant pools, and the presence of decaying matter thrown into the river at the docks combined to create unpleasant odors. The streets were un- ! paved and poorly lighted; Market Square was almost a quagmire; 50 Letters of William Couper, Aug. 19, 1802. 51 Norfolk Herald, May 11, 13, 29, 1802. 52 Royall, The Black Book, p. 255. 53 Norfolk Herald, Jan. 1, 1821. 54 Ibid., Jan. 17, 1821. 128 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port Water Street was “knee deep in mire from the Custom House east.” 55 “It is one of the ugliest, most irregular, dirtiest towns that I have ever seen,” said La Rochefoucauld in 1796. “The houses are low and mean, almost all of wood, . . . not twenty being of brick. The streets are unpaved; the town is surrounded by a marsh.” 56 A few years later Tom Moore visited Norfolk and carried away an even more unfavorable im¬ pression. “At the time we arrived, the yellow fever had not disappeared, and every odor that assailed us in the streets, accounted very strongly for its visitation.” The best that can be said is that the place “abounds in dogs, in negroes, and in democrats.” 57 “The streets are surely a little too crooked for beauty . . . and are in some places intolerably dirty, that is, where they haven’t yet been paved,” wrote a visitor about 1815. “The principal ones, however, are kept clean, and handsomely lighted. The houses too, for the most part, even on Main Street, are built in a very slovenly style, tho’ I see with pleasure, some signs of better taste in the new ones which are shooting up. The public build¬ ings are but few, and not over-elegant. The court house is rather a shabby affair, altogether unworthy of such a place.” 58 This unprepossessing Norfolk was practically swept away in a series of conflagrations. The first of these occurred in 1799, when many buildings on the east side of Market Square between Main and Union were destroyed. 59 On February 22, 1804, a second fire swept over the district south of Main Street, from Market Square to Town Point, destroying over three hundred warehouses, stores, and dwellings. The loss of goods of every description was so great that some merchants were never able to restore their fortunes. One old man, seeing that it was impossible to save his property, rushed into the flames and was burned to death. 60 “On Wednesday, being the 22nd of February a fire broke out in a gentleman’s store in the lower part of the town about 11 o’clock at night,” wrote William Couper, “where it burned down and laid to ashes not less than 260 houses in the space of six or seven hours, and the houses being chiefly built with wood, all the exer¬ tions that could be made were in vain. ... I received no bodily hurt as many a one did, some that were burned to ashes, some that were killed by the blowing up of houses with powder to save the rest from 55 Norfolk Beacon, Aug. 29, 1854. 56 La Rochefoucauld, Voyages dans les Ltats-Unis, IV, 256, 257. 57 Norfolk Gazette and Public Ledger, Sept. 12, 1806. 58 Letters from Virginia (Baltimore, 1816), p. 18. 59 Burton, History of Norfolk, p. 5. 60 Norfolk Beacon, May 3, 1836; Forrest, Sketches of Norfolk, p. 112; Stewart, History of Norfolk County, p. 358. 129 The Town and Its People catching fire, some that were hurt that is supposed will never re¬ cover. With the ships getting on fire, drifting about in the harbor, kindling one another, indeed it was a most awful sight to see, the columns of smoke, the bursting out of the flames, the cries of those that were on the streets saving their little properties, exposed to a most terrible, drifty and snowing night.” 61 A fire in 1805 destroyed ten or twelve houses on Water Street, 62 another in 1813 burnt twenty-five more, all of wood; 63 still others in 1814 cost nineteen more. 64 The last of these hres started in the old shingled Market House, whence it spread to the wooden buildings on the east side of Market Square. In a short time all had been consumed and the flames were sweeping on over the lanes between Union and Water streets. The fire engines were late to arrive, there were few buckets, and the conflagration was checked only by blowing up houses in its path. 65 In April, 1819, occurred another destructive conflagration. One hundred houses were consumed, including many stores and dwellings, and thirty-four families were rendered homeless. This fire extended along the north side of Main Street, and up Talbot Street, Mitchell’s Lane, and Willock’s Lane. 66 A few months later the crowded tene¬ ments of Bank Street, where Negroes and poor whites herded to¬ gether, were swept away, despite the efforts of a new fire company and of soldiers from Fort Norfolk. 67 In 1827 a fire destroyed Christ Church, together with sixty other buildings, most of them of wood; 68 while six years later twenty old houses on the south side of Main Street were carried away. 69 As the wooden houses were destroyed, substantial brick buildings took their place. “Strangers were astonished at the improvement in our streets and buildings in the past eight or ten years,” said the Herald in 1818. “Where miserable hovels . . . showed their con¬ temptible fronts, stately and elegant piles have sprung up.” “I ex¬ pected to have seen an old, dirty-looking, gloomy, clownish town,” said Mrs. Anne Royall, in 1828. “On the contrary . . . the houses are 61 Letters of William Couper, April 27, 1804. 62 Norfolk Gazette and Public Ledger, Nov. 22, 1805. 63 Ibid., March 8, 1813. 64 Ibid., March 28, so, 1814. es Ibid. 66 Norfolk Herald, April 9, 12, 1819. 67 Ibid., Sept. 24, 1819. 68 Ibid., March 9, 1827; Burton, History of Norfolk, p. 7. 69 Norfolk Herald, Nov. 4, 1833. 130 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port large and elegant, and many of them surrounded with beautiful trees. . . . The town is not only neat, it is beautiful. The streets are well paved, lighted, and the neatest kept in any town in the Union, except Providence. I will not except Philadelphia.” 70 Joseph Martin, writing in 1836, tells us that “many buildings with stone fronts, and in im¬ proved style, have been erected within a few years.” 71 Freemason Street became the fashionable part of town, and its handsome houses and flower gardens attracted the attention of every visitor to Norfolk. “Blooming roses of various hues, flowering vines, evergreens, and rare flowers” attested to the taste and care of the owners. 72 “Arriving at the corner of Freemason Street,” wrote a correspondent to the Beacon in 1853, ' we marched along view'ing our magnificent churches, our noble palaces of the wealthy, and admiring the extreme cleanliness that pre¬ vailed, together with the taste displayed in all the private gardens. This street is undoubtedly the most magnificent in the city.” Granby Street he found somewhat behind the times. “We expressed some sur¬ prise to ourselves that the various owners of the fine, large, old-time, well-built houses on this street do not improve their outward appear¬ ance.” 73 “Entire new and beautiful streets have taken the place of old marshy lanes and alleys,” said another waiter. “New and capacious buildings have gone up, where, some years ago, were nothing but old shanties and ruins. ... In fact the place wears a new aspect, and seems to have been thoroughly renovated.” 74 The borough authorities, from the days when Norfolk began to rise from its ashes, were not inattentive to the streets. So early as 1786 the council was receiving estimates for a “sink or drain, through the Main street, from the Church street to the river.” 75 But the people w T ere poor, the borough income small, and little could be done. An order was issued to prevent the throwing of refuse and dead animals in the streets, but even this was not always obeyed. 76 Later the towm was di¬ vided into districts with an overseer of streets in each, whose duty it was to fill in mud holes, repair bridges, make drains, and keep the streets in good condition. 77 One district embraced all Main Street, another Church Street, a third Fenchurch and Bermuda streets, a 70 Royall, The Black Book, p. 254. 71 Joseph Martin. Gazetteer of Virginia (Charlottesville, 1836), p. 247. 72 Norfolk Argus, May 5, 1854. 73 Norfolk Beacon, Aug. 1, 1853. 74 Forrest, Sketches of Norfolk, p. 407. 73 Norfolk Council Orders, 1736-98, p. 100b. 76 Norfolk Chronicle, Aug. 7, 1794. 77 Norfolk Council Orders, 1736-98, pp. 262b, 166b. The Town and Its People 131 fourth Freemason and Cumberland, the fifth Catharine Street, includ¬ ing Farmer’s Lane, the sixth Market Square, Holt, Maxwell, Concord, Granby, and Boush. 78 Stone for streets could be purchased cheaply at any wharf, for tons were brought over from Europe as ballast. 79 In 1802 the principal streets were graded and the gutters paved, “with proper descents for carrying off water.” 80 Still the complaints of rubbish, dirt, and stagnant water continued. In 1807 the legislature empowered the borough to pave the streets, and shortly afterward the old mud-choked thoroughfares became a thing of the past. “All the principal streets are paved,” wrote a visitor in 1818. Where a few years ago one “in crossing the street stuck ankle deep in the mud, he now finds a smooth and solid pavement.” 81 Joseph Martin, too, spoke of the paving of the streets and the excellent system of draining. 82 “The streets are well paved and tolerably clean,” said a visitor in 1834, “besides being very decently lighted up at night.” 83 Main Street and other business thoroughfares were the first to receive attention, but in time Bermuda and other residential streets had their turn. “Church street, formerly a bog in winter and dusty in summer, is now a handsomely paved street from the lower termination near the Court House to the Town Bridge,” stated the Herald in 1835. This street was lined with stores at the southern end, with many fine resi¬ dences further north. “It is one of the most delightful promenades in Norfolk,” said the Beacon. In 1836 Fenchurch Street was extended northward over marsh land toward the creek, and handsomely paved. At this time Norfolk had more miles of paved streets than any other city in the South. 84 In the meanwhile, the work of filling in Water Street was resumed, so that by 1839 it could be used as far as Hunter’s shipyard. Later it was completed to its eastern terminus at Main Street and paved throughout. An unattractive feature of early Norfolk was the marshy ground along the shores of Back Creek, between the old town and the new residential district centering around Freemason and Granby streets. At high tide the water came up to the present intersection of Metcalf and Plume at one point, to Market and Court at another, and actually touched Freemason just west of Granby. “The creek is a foul blotch 78 Ibid., p. 208b. ™Ibid., p. 166b. 80 Norfolk Herald, Jan. 8, 1803. 81 Ibid., May 1, 1818. 82 Martin, Gazetteer of Virginia, p. 248. 83 Norfolk Beacon, Jan. 7, 1834. 84 Ibid., May 3, 1836. 132 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port on our fair town,” said a writer in the Herald in June, 1827. ‘‘When¬ ever the tide ebbs, it is left dry and covered at the edges with slime. It can be seen clearly from the thoroughfare where Bank Street joins Catharine. Why not shut out the water at the Granby Street bridge? This would permit the mud to harden, and trees and grass to grow.” This suggestion aroused great interest. All were agreed that the marsh should be eliminated, but some thought it wise to leave a canal to con¬ nect with Cove Street, others preferred a public square, still others a promenade with shade trees. 85 The final vote was in favor of the pub¬ lic square, with a space at one end reserved for a new city hall. 86 It was not until 1839, however, that the work of filling in was actually accomplished, and then only for the area east of Bank and Catharine streets. 87 The more extensive marsh ground west of Bank remained until many years after the Civil 'War. 88 On August 23, 1847, cornerstone was laid for the new City Hall. This building, which still stands, imposing and beautiful amid the business structures of the modern city, faced west, overlooking Back Creek and the harbor beyond. It is eighty feet by sixty, with a portico, supported by six Tuscan columns. A cupola, thirty-two feet in diameter, and rising one hundred and ten feet above the street, dominates the structure, and in former days made it a conspicuous object for miles around. Granite steps lead to the portico, and the front wall is faced with granite. The building contained court rooms, mayor’s office, sheriff’s office, council chambers, and jury room, while beneath the first floor was a cistern, with a capacity of forty-five gallons. The en¬ tire cost was about fifty thousand dollars. 89 A few years later a new Custom House was erected on Main Street, at Granby. Its handsome portico, w r ith the long flight of steps leading up from the street, its granite walls, its six columns w’ith their Corin¬ thian capitals, added a touch of dignity and beauty to this part of the city. 90 Other new structures dating from this period were the prison, on the site of the Avon Theater; the Norfolk Academy at Catharine and Charlotte streets; the great naval hospital at Portsmouth; the Na¬ tional Hotel at Main and Church streets; the Atlantic Hotel, w T hich was opened in i 85 g ; 91 the Presbyterian Church; Mechanics Hall, on 85 Ibid., June 22, 1827; March 26, 1830. 86 Ibid., Jan. 7, 1834. 87 Forrest, Sketches of Norfolk, p. 211. 88 Robert W. Lamb, Our Twin Cities (Norfolk, 1888) , p. 54. 89 Forrest, Sketches of Norfolk, p. 255. "The building is still standing. 91 Burton, History of Norfolk, p. 36. The Town and Its People 135 the south side of Main Street, a few doors east of Market Square; 92 and the Cumberland Street Methodist Church. In the early days the streets of Norfolk were unlighted, and the pedestrian had to take his lantern with him or depend upon such friendly rays as came from the near-by houses. In 1811, however, the legislature of Virginia passed an act empowering the borough to set up lamp posts. 93 Even then the streets remained dark and gloomy, for the oil lamps gave but a faint gleam, and were often neglected by the attendants. “Why is there no light in the lamps?” complained one man in February, 1823. “Have the citizens refused to pay the lamp tax?” “Is there no oil? 94 Last night while walking in the street, I stumbled over a pile of bricks and measured my length in the gutter.” 95 Relief came in 1849, when the Norfolk Gas Light Company, composed of enterprising citizens, established its plant on Briggs’ Point, at the corner of Mariner and Walker streets. The laying down of pipes con¬ tinued in the summer of 1849, and on October 1, in the presence of a crowd of spectators, the lights were lit in several buildings. 96 Freemason Street seems to have been the first equipped with gas lights. “It is a pleasure to walk at night on this street, now brilliantly lighted,” wrote a correspondent to the Argus in March, 1850. “These beautiful lights should be diffused over the entire city.” 97 This was done as speedily as possible. “When the storm howls ... it is pleasant to look out upon the city below, all mantled with a silvery light. Here and there, on this side and that, as far as the eye can reach, the friendly lamps are seen, like so many faithful sentinels at their posts.” 98 The company made the mistake of using rosin for the manufacture of its gas, with the result that their building was burnt down twice in the same year. This warning was sufficient, and thereafter rosin was discarded in favor of coal. 99 It was many years later that Norfolk acquired modern water works. Far into the nineteenth century the town wells, placed at convenient points in the streets, provided almost the sole supply of water. But the unavoidable pollution, together with the brackish taste, made it un- 92 Forrest, Sketches of Norfolk, p. 251. 93 Ibid., p. 119. 94 In 1825 the lamp tax amounted to $577.80, and the cost of maintaining the lights was $461.25 (Norfolk Beacon, Jan. 13, 1826) . 95 Norfolk Herald, Feb. 12, 1823. 96 Forrest, Sketches of Norfolk, p. 245. 97 Norfolk Argus, March 14, 1850. 98 Forrest, Sketches of Norfolk, p. 246. "Burton, History of Norfolk, pp. 215, 216. »34 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port desirable for drinking purposes. So, in the summer of 1800, when a cer¬ tain Johnny Rouke, who owned a large well of pure water at his home on Briggs’ Point, began peddling water around town, he was heartily welcomed. The sight of his “tea-wagon” standing before some resi¬ dence, while the colored maid filled the drinking bucket, became fa¬ miliar to all. Later the “tea-water” was sold in the streets by old Negro men at a half cent a gallon. 100 The first person in Norfolk to equip his residence with a cistern is said to have been Caleb Bonsai, the bookseller. 101 But others followed his example until in 1853 it was stated that “much the larger portion of the regular supply” was obtained in this way. The cisterns were of brick, below the surface of the earth, and were fed by pipes connected with the house gutter. 102 This system, too, was far from satisfactory, and there gradually arose a demand for a modern water works system. “Why drink rain water, flavored with the dirt and dust of the roof,” it was asked, “when Lake Drummond or Deep Creek can so eaily be tapped?” But this suggestion at once stirred the opposition of the conservatives. It was merely a plan of speculators to line their pockets; it would double taxes; Lake Drummond was too far away. And who wanted to drink juniper water, strong enough to stain one’s clothing or one’s face, water full of alligators and snakes? In the midst of this controversy came rumblings of the Civil War, and so Norfolk had to wait for another twelve years before the actual construction of a sys¬ tem of water works was begun. 103 The people of Norfolk in the early days were recompensed for the poor quality of their water by an abundance of good and wholesome food. The market was always stocked with meat, fowl, fish, and vege¬ tables. “The market of Norfolk is a subject of much astonishment to a person from the North,” said Mrs. Royall. “This was the 25th of April; of course I was surprised to find ripe strawberries, peas, potatoes, green beans, cucumbers, and all sorts of vegetables in the greatest per¬ fection and abundance; but their meat of every sort is very indifferent. They, however, have fine fish, fowl, and game.” 104 At Christmas time, especially, the country people flocked in with their carts, driving little horses the size of a two-year-old cow, and bringing geese, ducks, chick- 100 Norfolk Herald, Aug. 2, 1826. 101 Forrest, Sketches of Norfolk, p. 217. 102 Ibid., p. 216. i °3 Norfolk Argus, Aug. 27, Sept. 2, 1858; Cary W. Jones, Norfolk as a Business Centre (Norfolk, 1881) , p. 57; Lamb, Our Twin Cities, p. 38. 104 Royall, The Black Book, p. 255. The Town and Its People 1 B5 ens, opossums, raccoons, rabbits, squirrels, eggs, vegetables, mutton, lamb, etc. On Christmas eve, 1819, it was computed that there were 311 carts in town, besides scores of boats from Princess Anne and else¬ where, bringing in all no less than six thousand turkeys. 105 If one went the round of the stalls, he would be sure to hear some¬ thing like the following: “ ‘Friend, how d’ye sell port? Eight dollars. Mr. Shuster, how does beef go to-day? Ten cents. Boy, how much do you ask for chickens? Two and three pence, and half a dollar, master. Madam, what’s the price of your geese? Three and nine pence, sir. Old gentleman, how much do you ask for turkies? Nine shillings.” 106 To the farmer who moved into Norfolk to partake of the prosperity of the days when the West Indian trade was in full swing, the prices of food seemed excessive. One complained bitterly that he had a simple meal for his family, consisting of a hog’s jowl, greens, two fowls, butter, bread, and toddy, and the cost came to no less than $2.62i/2. 107 William Wirt, who came to Norfolk in 1804, also felt high prices a serious grievance. “Indian meal, through the winter is nine shillings per bushel,” he wrote, “flour, eleven and twelve dollars per barrel, a leg of mutton, three dollars, butter three shillings per pound, eggs two shillings, and three pence per dozen, and so on.” 108 Half a century later prices were far more reasonable. A visitor at the market in 1853 found there 178 carts supplied with all kinds of food—eggs at ten cents a dozen, chickens at thirty-seven and a half cents per pair, apples, tomatoes, fish, potatoes, collards, beef, pork, lamb, veal, geese, figs, corn, grapes, quinces, pears, “snap-beans,” peaches, and cantaloupes. 109 The religious life of Norfolk was also much transformed in the post-Revolutionary decades. The most significant change was made by the Revolution itself, which resulted in the overthrow of the Estab¬ lished Church and the creation of complete religious freedom. The parish vestry ceased to be a government agency, surrendered its chari¬ table duties to the newly created overseers of the poor, and lost the right to tax; deprived of its customary revenues, the Protestant Episco¬ pal Church, as the reorganized church was called, declined everywhere in Virginia and almost died. In Norfolk the newly organized vestry had to face the problem of rebuilding the old borough church, whose fire-blackened walls alone had survived the burning of Norfolk in 105 Norfolk Herald, Dec. 29, 1819. 106 Norfolk Gazette and Public Ledger, Jan. 4, 1815. 107 Norfolk Herald, March 4, 1818. 108 Burton, History of Norfolk, p. 6. 109 Norfolk Argus, Aug. 15, 1853. 136 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port January, 1776. For this purpose the General Assembly in October, 1785, authorized the vestry to raise £700 by lottery. 110 The lottery ap¬ parently was successful, since the vestry the following year elected Walker Maury minister of the parish. Maury was at the same time ap¬ pointed master of the revived school by the borough council, which had just appropriated £300 for a new building on the old school lot. 111 When Maury died of yellow fever two years later, he w r as succeeded in both positions by the Reverend Alexander Whitehead. 112 At this point a bitter quarrel split the old church. Two rival vestries w r ere elected by the opposing groups; in 1789 one summoned William Bland to be minister of the parish, and the other invited James White- head, possibly a relative of Alexander Whitehead, who continued to serve as schoolmaster until 1792. Although the Whitehead faction was recognized by the Virginia Convention of the Episcopal Church as the legal group and Bland was refused a seat in the Convention, Whitehead’s supporters eventually withdrew all claim to the old borough church and on June 24, 1800, laid the cornerstone of a new church at the north end of the schoolhouse lot. This building, later known as Christ Church, was destroyed by fire in 1827 and was re¬ placed by a new structure on a new lot, at the corner of Freemason and Cumberland streets, where it still stands. Meanwhile, the Bland congregation disintegrated after his death in 1803, and the old borough church was not used again for Episcopal worship until 1832, when a revived congregation had it reconsecrated as St. Paul’s Church, the name it has borne ever since. 113 Many former Episcopalians probably joined the newly organized Methodist Episcopal Church, which appeared in Norfolk in 1793. Methodism had been preached there before the Revolution, when it was still a movement inside the Church of England, but it now re¬ turned as an independent church. The first Methodist bishop, Francis Asbury, bought a lot on Fenchurch Street, just below the school lot, and, according to tradition, Methodist services were held in a barn¬ like building there for seven years. In 1800 the Methodists acquired another lot on Cumberland Street, where they still maintain a church. 114 The first Catholic church w r as erected about the same time as the n°Whichard, History of Lower Tidewater Virginia, I, 442. a 1 Norfolk Council Orders, 1736-1798, pp. 99, 104. 112 Whichard, History of Lower Tidewater Virginia, I, 442. 113 Ibid., I, 442-444. Ibid., I, 446. i37 The Town and Its People first Methodist building. The Catholic Church had not been tolerated in colonial Virginia, and there were no known Catholics in Norfolk before the Revolution. The first Catholics arrived in 1791 as refugees from the French Revolution, and their number was increased two years later by other Frenchmen fleeing from the slave insurrection in Santo Domingo. In 1794 these exiles purchased a lot at the corner of Chapel and Holt streets, the one now occupied by St. Mary’s, and built there a wooden chapel. This was replaced in 1842 by a more sub¬ stantial structure, which is used today as a parish hall. 115 The next denomination to appear in Norfolk was the Presbyterian. Before the Revolution the town had contained many Scotch merchants, who would have been of the Presbyterian faith, but they seem to have been content with the services at the borough church. Although many of these returned after the war, it was not until 1800 that a Presby¬ terian church was formally organized. By 1802 the new congregation had built a church on the northwest corner of what is now Bank and Charlotte streets and put a bell on its roof, a distinction so unusual in Norfolk in that day that it soon came to be known as the “Bell Church.” The building still stands, much altered in appearance, but it is no longer used by the Presbyterians. 116 The last of the major denominations to arrive was the Baptists, who at first had a biracial congregation. The Norfolk Baptists began as a branch of the Portsmouth Baptist Church and did not form a separate organization of their own until 1805. They worshiped in the then- vacant borough church until 1816, when they erected a building of their own on Cumberland Street. Shortly afterwards the two races separated, the Negroes assuming the name of the First Baptist Church. The First Baptist Church in 1830 acquired a lot on Bute Street and built a church there. Ten years later part of the congregation seceded and moved into the old Presbyterian church on Bank Street. 117 In addition to its many churches, Norfolk was fortunate in having one of the finest academies in the South. Soon after the Revolution, when most of the town was still in ashes, when taxes were high, and the people impoverished, the council appointed a committee to “con¬ tract for the rebuilding of the free school.” 118 Accordingly in 1786, £300 was appropriated, as has been mentioned, and a building, sixty feet by twenty-two feet and two stories high, was erected on the school 115 Ibid,., I, 446-447. 116 Ibid., I, 445-446. 117 Ibid., I, 447-449. 118 Norfolk Council Orders, 1736-1798, p. 97b. 138 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port land on Church Street. 119 A set of rules and regulations drawn up by a committee of aldermen was adopted by the borough council in March, 1787, when the school was for the first time named Norfolk Academy. The subjects to be taught were reading, writing, arithmetic, book¬ keeping, English grammar, geography, Latin, Greek, French, and the use of the globes. There was to be a committee of aldermen to examine the school twice a year and to sit with the master in cases of serious misconduct on the part of pupils. Expulsion might be resorted to for lying, swearing, obscenity, quarreling, or fighting. The children of those days had to be early risers, for in summer school was in session from six to eight and nine to twelve in the morning, and from two to five in the afternoon. In winter the early session was omitted. There were to be two vacations, four weeks at Whitsuntide and a month at Christmas. Each member of the first class was to wear a broad black band thrown over the right shoulder and under the left arm, while a student in one of the other classes wore a blue ribbon in the button¬ hole of his coat. 120 In 1796, when La Rochefoucauld visited Norfolk, he found the school flourishing. “There is a very good school for boys there,” he said, “the tuition being $40 a year for each pupil.” 121 The headmaster at that time was James Whitehead, minister of one of the Episco¬ palian factions, who had been appointed to the post when the other Whitehead resigned in 1792. In 1796 he was involved in a dispute with the borough council, which attempted to exercise its right to dismiss him. When the schoolmaster stubbornly refused to accept his dis¬ missal, however, the council surrendered and left him in his posi¬ tion. 122 The headmaster usually had two assistants; at least he did in 1802 when a Mr. Maguire was teaching Latin and a Mr. Beraule was the French instructor. 123 The academy was removed from borough control and made an in¬ dependent corporation in 1804, when the General Assembly named a board of trustees, consisting of Littleton W. Tazewell, Thomas New¬ ton, Jr., Richard H. Lee, Arthur Lee, and other distinguished citi¬ zens. 124 This board at once took legal possession of the frame school- 119 Ibid., p. 99. 120 Ibid., pp. 106, 107b. 121 La Rochefoucauld, Voyages dans les Ltats-Unis, IV, 271. 122 Whichard, History of Lower Tidewater Virginia, I, 438. 123 Norfolk Herald, Oct. 2, 1802. 124 Ibid., Feb. 5, 1836; Samuel R. Borum, Norfolk, Port and City (Norfolk, 1893), p. 28. i39 The Town and Its People house and the lot on Church Street; it also replaced James Whitehead with a new headmaster. 125 Hoping to move the school to a more con¬ venient location, the trustees on August 29, 1806, purchased from the overseers of the poor the old glebe land on the south side of Charlotte Street. 126 It was a full third of a century, however, before the new academy was built, the school continuing to use the old building until it became so ramshackle that it was totally unfit for further service. At the public examination held on September 19, 1816, “more than 100 scholars” were tested “in the several branches of English and classical education.” At that time the headmaster was a Mr. Ed¬ monds. 127 In November, 1814, Dr. Augustine Slaughter, after making provision in his will for emancipating his slaves, established a fund of three thousand dollars for scholarships at the academy. These were to be used for training poor boys in reading, writing, and navigation. After receiving an adequate schooling, each boy was to be apprenticed to a shipmaster. It is stated that Mr. Philip R. Thompson, of Cul¬ peper County, one of Dr. Slaughter’s heirs, secured a lawyer to ex¬ amine the will and found that a technical defect rendered it null. It was expected that he would demand the entire three thousand Ifdollars, but instead he directed the lawyer to draw up a new instru¬ ment to carry out the original intent of the donor, to which he affixed his signature. In 1853 there were ten boys at the academy profiting by the generosity of these two men. 128 In the years from 1830 to 1836 the academy suffered a decline and the trustees were concerned to find that Norfolk boys were turning elsewhere for instruction. The school building was “merely rented to some teacher who kept a school on his own private account.” The revenues were inadequate, consisting of $200 for the rent of the Academy, $56 from the rent of other buildings, $>132 interest on $2,200 owed by the Presbyterian church, and $30 dividends on $550 in stock of the Farmers’ Bank—in all $418. So it was proposed to 5ell the Church Street property and with the proceeds build a hand¬ some schoolhouse on the Charlotte Street lot. 129 All Norfolk became interested, and by 1840 “public and private munificence” had made it possible to erect one of the finest school buildings in the country. The cornerstone was laid on May 25, 1840, with impressive cere- 125 Whichard, History of Lower Tidewater Virginia, I, 439. 126 Norfolk Beacon, Feb. 5, 1836. 127 Lower Norfolk County Antiquary, V, 145. 128 Forrest, Sketches of Norfolk, pp. 143, 144. 129 Norfolk Herald, Feb. 5, 1836. 140 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port monies. 130 The procession formed at French’s Hotel, 131 and moved through Main, Fenchurch, Holt, Church, Main once more, and Cathar¬ ine, to “Academy Square.” The line, extending nearly a mile, was led by a band, followed by the mayor, the sergeant with the Borough mace, the recorder, the council, trustees of the Academy, clergymen, foreign consuls, military and naval officers, civic societies, hundreds of schoolchildren, the naval apprentices from the Delaware, and citizens and strangers. “As the long line passed down Main street, to the sound of music, with the mystic symbols of the different institutions borne along and with banners all flying, the windows in the lofty houses on either side crowded with the fair,” the scene was enough to stir the soul. After prayer by Bishop Philander Chase, of Illinois, and an ad¬ dress by Colonel William Garnet, various objects—coins, newspapers, documents, etc.—were deposited in the cornerstone, and the stone it¬ self lowered into place. 132 The building is ninety-one feet long by forty-seven, and is modeled after the temple of Theseus at Athens. There are two porticos with six Doric columns each, on the east and west ends. The architect was Thomas U. Walter, of Philadelphia, noted for his work on the na¬ tional Capitol at Washington. In its new building the school took on a new lease of life. The first choice for principal seems to have been unfortunate, however. John P. Scott, an Irishman by birth, was a classical scholar and a man of high character, but he lacked the patience essential to a successful teacher. It is stated that when the weather was hot and the boys were disorderly, he would seize the chief offenders and hustle them out of the nearest window. His administra¬ tion was short-lived. 133 “In this institution are taught, as thoroughly and extensively as in any college, all branches necessary to the attainment of an English, mathematical and classical education,” said the Argus, in 1848. “There being two departments, pupils of any age over eight years may be ad¬ mitted. . . . Besides the ordinary branches taught at colleges gener¬ ally, this institution presents the additional advantage of a military education. . . . The managers of the institution avoid as much as possible corporal punishment. ... In the junior department pupils study the lower branches of English, and the first principles of algebra 13 ° Norfolk Beacon, May 25, 1840. 131 Afterward the National. The building was demolished in 1959 as part of the downtown redevelopment program. 132 Lower Norfolk County Antiquary, IV, 150-163; Norfolk Beacon, May 27, 1840. 133 Lower Norfolk County Antiquary, IV, 38. 141 The Town and Its People and commence Latin. They are then transferred to the Senior depart¬ ment.” At this time the faculty consisted of John D. Strange, Mathe¬ matics and Military Science; Richard B. Tschudi, Ancient Languages; George W. Sheffield, English; and Hilarus Magnin, Modern Lan¬ guages. 134 Important in the life of early Norfolk was the local newspaper. The advent of the Revolution found one sheet in the borough. The Virginia Gazette or Norfolk Intelligencer, edited by James Holt. The few musty copies of this journal, now reposing in the Library of Congress, make interesting reading. The news is chiefly national and foreign, picked up from the crews of passengers of incoming vessels, or copied from other papers. Events at Norfolk, unless of unusual importance, were omitted, perhaps on the theory that they were known to all the readers of the Gazette long before they could be put into print. But the lists of vessels entering or clearing, the notices of runaway slaves, the advertisements of houses or of ships for sale, give a vivid glimpse of what was going on in Norfolk at the end of the colonial period. Holt’s paper came to a sudden end in September, 1775, when Lord Dunmore seized his presses and set them up on his fleet. 135 After the Revolution, when Norfolk was rising from its ashes, The Norfolk and Portsmouth Journal made its appearance, 136 followed in 1788 by the Norfolk and Portsmouth Chronicle, a weekly edited by J. McLean and A. McLean; 137 and in 1793 by The Virginia Chronicle md Norfolk and Portsmouth General Advertiser. The Herald and Norfolk and Portsmouth Advertiser, a little biweekly, eighteen inches ry twenty-four inches, was first issued on August 13, 1794. It later be- :ame a daily, and under the able guidance of Thomas G. Broughton, vas for decades the standard paper of southeastern Virginia and lortheastern Carolina. The Norfolk Gazette and Public Ledger, ounded in 1804, by William Davis, was an anti-Jeffersonian paper, idiculing the policy of peaceful coercion and opposing the War of 812. 138 In April, 1815, The American Beacon made its appearance. This paper, at first neutral in politics and later Whig, was long ably tdited by William Cunningham. 139 134 Ibid., IV, 30-32; Forrest, Sketches of Norfolk, p. 213. 135 See p. 54. 136 The copies in the Library of Congress date back to September, 1787. 137 Forrest, Sketches of Norfolk, pp. 99, 100. A number of copies are preserved in tie Library of Congress. 138 It was still issued in 1816. 139 In 1834, Hugh B. Grigsby was owner and publisher. 142 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port Still another paper. The Southern Argus, appeared in January, 1848. It was Democratic in politics, and after urging Virginia on to secession in i860 and 1861, collapsed in the storm which it helped to brew. 140 The Norfolk Day Book, established in 1857, was suppressed during the war by the Federal authorities, and The New Regime, the mouthpiece of General Benjamin F. Butler, issued in 1864 and 1865, took its place. 141 The descriptions of Norfolk by visitors or historians give us a vivid picture of the town in the days before the Civil War. “Passing one or two neat country boxes on your left, you come to Fort Norfolk, a strong fortification with a brick wall, in the shape of a half-moon,” wrote a visitor in the second decade of the century. “Fort Nelson is little above on the other shore, and makes quite a pleasing show with its green banks and white houses in the rear. You are now up, and the town sits to you in all her charms, to paint her if you choose. It is on your left in the landscape, and appears to be almost divided into two parts, by the water running and shining between. Bridges are thrown over to unite these divisions, and the lower one, or the Point, as they call it, shows a number of neat, white houses, almost lost in trees. On your right the harbor opens before you in a beautiful basin, nearly a mile wide. The Marine Hospital, on Washington Point, at the head of it, comes out to meet you in front. Portsmouth, a neat rural village, sits in smiling silence on the other side; and still further up, Gosport with her navy-yard, ships and bridge, finishes the prospect.” 142 “It was late in the evening, or night rather, when we landed at Norfolk,” wrote Mrs. Anne Royall, in 1828. “The captain sending a man, both as a guide and porter, to conduct me to Mrs. . . . who kept a board¬ ing house. I was pleased to find the family up, and met an obliging old lady in my landlady, and some genteel company, which at once interested me in favor of Norfolk. . . . The streets are not regular, but they are lively, and display much fashion, politeness, and business. . . . The town contains three banks, a court house, a jail, an academy, three insurance offices, an orphans’ asylum, an atheneum containing 6,000 volumes of well chosen books, and seven churches.” 143 “Approaching Norfolk,” said another visitor in 1834, “you sail 140 The student of Norfolk history must turn to the Library of Congress for the Norfolk newspapers prior to 1802. From that year until 1861 he will find most of the files in the Norfolk Public Library. 141 A set of The New Regime is to be found in the Princeton University Library. 142 Letters from Virginia, pp. 17, 18. 143 Royall, The Black Book, pp. 253, 254. 143 The Town and, Its People up bold Elizabeth River, passing Craney Island on your right, where you see the remains of military works, and two or three country boxes on your left. You reach Fort Norfolk, now dismantled, on the same side.. The new Naval Hospital is on the opposite shore, and forms a splendid vision with its Doric colonnade in front. Before you is the town, divided, as you see, into two parts, but united again by yonder stone bridge. 144 And there, a little to the left of it, is the house of our ex-senator, Mr. Tazewell, with its white portico and green lawn in front, making a very agreeable point in the picture. The right, or business part of the town, is well built up with brick houses, and appears to be a thriving mart. Passing on you enter the harbor itself, which opens into a beautiful basin, about three-fourths of a mile wide, and something longer; and full, you see, of ships and brigs and innumerable smaller vessels, all along the wharves.” 145 At the wharf is a swarm of Negroes, all shouting, “Shall I take your baggage, Marsa?” “There are no hacks, and you have to walk to your hotel, while the negro lugs your bags behind.” 146 “The streets I find, are not quite as straight, nor the houses, in general, exactly as well built as I would have wished to see them. The public buildings, too, with two or three exceptions, are quite unworthy. . . . The Court House particularly, is a shabby affair, and ought to be demolished . . . and the three banks are only dwelling houses converted into offices of discount and deposit. The new Episcopal church, however, has some pretensions to architectural style, and is, on the whole a handsome edifice. . . . The people here are sociable, lively, and agreeable, the ladies especially being charming.” 147 A few years later Norfolk presented a different appearance. “Many beautiful public buildings, elegant family residences, large and splen¬ did stores, well-paved streets, and a thriving and healthful population of about 16,000” mark the recent improvements, stated the historian Forrest. 148 If we view the city from some central eminence, a picture of great beauty and interest presents itself. To the northeast we “have a fine view of the Academy building, and its proportionate dimensions, standing in the center of its handsome square. East by south, and only ja few rods distant, Christ Church shoots up its spire towards the sky. Southeast by east, stands old St. Paul’s, amid the slumbering - 144 Granby Street Bridge. 145 Norfolk Beacon, Jan. 7, 1834. 146 Ibid.., Aug. 23, 1839. 147 Ibid., Jan. 7, 1824. 148 Forrest, Sketches of Norfolk, p. 309. 144 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port dead. . . . [Beyond] is the Eastern Branch of the Elizabeth, as it glides under the draw-bridge. [Nearer] stands St. Patrick’s Church, . . . and the towering cupola of the Presbyterian Church, and the neat front of the Cumberland Street Baptist Church. Southeast by south, the Cumberland Street Methodist Church presents its bold and massive proportions. Due south, and over the water, at Washington Point, stands the Marine Hospital, a tidy and airy structure, half hid amid trees, and surrounded by evergreens and shrubbery. [In the foreground are] the Mechanics’ Hall, with its showy front and archi¬ tectural peculiarities, and other handsome buildings. . . . [To the south is] the City Hall, which the beholder sees with admiration,— its massive columns, lofty dome, solid walls, and fine proportions. . . . [Across the water is Portsmouth] and the Naval Hospital, an ele¬ gantly constructed pile of masonry, a grand ornament to the harbor. . . . [To the west] Elizabeth River spreads out its deep, broad bosom, floating in their majesty and pride, some of the most formidable war- steamers, many smaller vessels, and numbers of boats, with their white sails inviting the breezes; and then on, five miles in the distance, lies Craney Island. ... [To the north are] several African churches, Plume & Company’s Rope and Oakum Works, the Gas Works, Cotton Factory, the Almshouse, Cedar Grove and Elmwood cemeteries, steam saw-mill, farm-houses, cottages and lawns, with a thick growth of pine, oak, and maple in the background.” Such was Norfolk in 1852, three years before it was blighted by the great yellow fever epidemic, and nine before the scarcely less terrible scourge of civil war. CHAPTER SEVEN Strangled Commerce With the Peace of Ghent the British government closed hei West Indies to American vessels. The island authorities were per¬ mitted to suspend the order for six months more, but the time was later reduced to four months. St. George and Hamilton, in Ber¬ muda, were opened to our ships, it is true, but the duties here were heavy and the character of the cargoes restricted. And, since Bermuda was much nearer to the United States than to the West Indies, thus assuring the British carriers the lion’s share of the freight, the Amer¬ icans considered this a dubious favor. When, on July 3, 1815, Great Britain concluded a commercial treaty with the United States, open¬ ing the ports of each country to the vessels of the other, she made an exception of her West Indies. “We cannot reverse our two-century-old colonial policy,” the British negotiators said. “It is enough that we will admit your produce, we will not permit shipment in American bot¬ toms.” In vain the Americans protested that this violated the spirit of true reciprocity, that the interchange of goods ought to be carried on jointly by British and American shippers, and that if the United States retaliated by excluding British vessels, the West Indians would starve. The English stood their ground, and waited to see what Presi¬ dent Madison and Congress would do about it. 1 The new arrangement proved most injurious to American ship¬ ping. The British started a triangular trade, from which we were ex¬ cluded and with which we could not compete. England had few articles to send to her islands; so her ships now loaded for the United States and took on new cargoes there for the West Indies, whence they returned home with sugar and molasses. In the direct trade be¬ tween the United States and Great Britain the eastward voyage with 1 Benns, American Struggle for the British West India Carrying Trade, pp. 29-32. Norfolk: Historic Southern Port 146 the bulky American products always required far more cargo space than the return trip with the manufactured goods of Europe. The new triangular route now made it possible for the British to charge nominal freight rates from England to the United States, getting their profit from the other two legs of their voyage. As a result, many American merchantmen had to come home from England in ballast, w T ith the profits from their eastward trip eaten up by the failure to secure a return cargo. Before many months shipbuilding fell off, artisans were thrown out of work, seamen began to seek employment under foreign flags, many vessels were “dismantled at the wharves, and literally rotting in the docks.” 2 Yet few complaints were heard from Norfolk. The only way to secure reciprocity was to retaliate with prohibitive duties or with non¬ intercourse, and Norfolk had had its fill of both. She knew from ex¬ perience that it was not easy to coerce the British lion. Moreover, the merchants were doing fairly well as it was, for British vessels swarmed in the Elizabeth River. Norfolk was the only port in which an assorted cargo could be had for the West India trade—flour, grain, meal, naval stores—so it was selected by many British traders in preference to Philadelphia, New York, or the New England ports. The Norfolk merchants, although their own vessels were often idle, made a good commission on every cargo which left for Jamaica or Antigua, and on every cask of sugar or molasses which came back. One house alone exported to the British West Indies an average of $260,000 annually in 1816, 1817, and 1818. It was estimated that produce worth two million dollars went out each year to these islands during the period the trade was open, some of the British ships making seven or eight round trips. Although peace did not restore the decaying shipyards of the Elizabeth nor give employment to shipwrights, sea captains, and seamen, it did bring a degree of prosperity to the town and its people. 3 So while the Northern seaports were urging retaliation against Great Britain, Norfolk was content to let well enough alone. “There is an uncommon bustle in our port at present,” stated the Norfolk Herald, in April, 1818, “vessels daily arriving and departing for the West Indies. Rum, molasses and sugar are cheap, flour and provisions up to the clouds, the demand for lumber cannot be met. We hope 2 Ibid., pp. 34-36. 3 Norfolk Beacon, Aug. 28, 1821; Norfolk Herald, Oct. 2, 1818; Forrest, Sketches of Norfolk, p. 156. Strangled Commerce 147 Congress will not interfere and close our ports to the British.” Yet that is just what Congress did. An act was passed forbidding trade in British vessels between the ports of the United States and those British colonies which were closed to American vessels. The law was to be in force September 30, 1818. 4 For weeks the Elizabeth was crowded with vessels trying to unload and take on their cargoes be¬ fore the interdiction came in force. The schooner Favorite, from Barbados, arrived early on the morning of September 29, and by nine o’clock was discharging her cargo of sugar and rum. In eleven hours she had cleared her hold, filled up again with flour, bread, and staves, and battened down her hatches. The next morning she loaded her deck with shingles, stowed her longboat, and cleared before ten o’clock. Many others were less fortunate. Some were ready for sea at the last moment but could not get out; some that had escaped in time were driven back by a severe northeast gale. ‘‘It is with deep regret that we see them go,” said the Herald. “Since the peace they have been regular customers here, . . . bringing valuable cargoes, paying heavy duties, and taking away lumber, naval stores and flour.” 5 Despite the distress which followed the exclusion act, the people of Norfolk waited patiently to see what impression it made on the government at London. Apparently the effect was wholesome. When Richard Rush, the American minister, began negotiations for the renewal of the commercial treaty of 1815, Lord Castlereagh offered equality of trade in the West Indies. British and American vessels were to be treated alike both as to articles of import and export, ports of entry, and duties in tonnage and cargoes. But now the Ameri¬ cans overreached themselves. Fearing that duties on American goods coming directly from the United States would be so much heavier than on those going by way of Great Britain or Canada that their shippers would not be able to hold their own, they demanded that the customs be uniform. This the British refused to consider, and the : treaty of 1815 was renewed without opening the West India trade. The Northern shippers were not deeply concerned, but Norfolk complained bitterly. “It will be perceived that the treaty is perfectly silent upon the subject of the West India trade, the great desideratum with the Southern States,” said one paper. “This is a heavy dis¬ appointment. ... We feel the loss of this trade here perhaps more than it is felt in any part of the Union; but all hopes of retrieving it 4 Benns, American Struggle for the British West India Carrying Trade, pp. 52, 53. 5 Norfolk Herald, Oct. 2, 1818. 148 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port are now permanently extinguished. ... We have neither loaves nor fishes to comfort us.” 6 The trade to the British West Indies, crippled though it was, did not cease entirely. Great Britain, alarmed lest the islanders starve, opened St. John’s, Halifax, and Bermuda to American vessels, and our goods poured into these ports, whence they were transhipped to the West Indies in British bottoms. This new course of commerce de¬ prived Norfolk of the advantage of position, for her Northern rivals were as close to Bermuda as she, and much closer to Halifax. In 1820 only sixty-four vessels, aggregating six thousand tons, with exports valued at $181,500, left the port for these two places. 7 This was less by eighty thousand dollars than the average shipments of one Norfolk firm prior to the Act of 1818. 8 A bad matter was made worse, when Congress, in 1820, decided to end trade with the British West Indies, even by the circuitous route. Great Britain could be forced to yield, it was thought, only when every leak had been stopped and her colonies brought to the verge of ruin. So it was enacted that after September 30, 1820, no British vessels coming from any North American colony should enter a port of the United States, and goods from such a colony would not be received if transhipped at some intermediate point. Although this severe measure had the approval of Representative Newton, of the Norfolk district, it was condemned by the Norfolk merchants. “There is not the remotest chance that our restrictions will force Great Brit¬ ain to change her colonial system,” they said. “Is Congress trying to teach the West Indies to become independent of us? We have suc¬ ceeded only in injuring ourselves. How amazing it is that representa¬ tives from the lower counties of Virginia and North Carolina are supporting a measure so ruinous to those sections! If Congress had not interfered it is probable that by this time a full half of the trade to the British West Indies would have been centered in Norfolk.” 9 A visitor to the town in November, 1821, found the people, not only in Nor¬ folk, “but in all the country round about,” unanimous in their de¬ mand for the removal of the restrictions; the merchants because their warehouses were empty; the farmers because they could not dispose of their foodstuffs; sailors, caulkers, ropemakers, coopers, and riggers, 6 Benns, American Struggle for the British West India Carrying Trade, pp. 55-60. 7 Norfolk Beacon, Aug. 28, 1821. 8 Ibid. 9 Ibid. Strangled Commerce 149 because they were unemployed; newspaper owners because their advertising columns were empty. 10 In December the mayor, recorder, aldermen, and councilmen passed resolutions voicing the general discontent. The acts prohibit¬ ing British ships “from bringing the productions of the British colo¬ nies to our ports, and taking away the agricultural productions of our state and other staples,” were denounced as “highly injurious to Nor¬ folk and this district.” 11 A few days later the citizens crowded into the Town Hall to add their voice to that of the borough government. After an address by William Maxwell, the meeting passed resolutions declaring the navigation acts pernicious to Norfolk, destructive of its commerce, and injurious to all classes of citizens. Congressman New¬ ton was instructed to work for their repeal, while a committee was appointed to correspond with the people of Richmond, Petersburg, and Fredericksburg. 12 But Congress would not yield. The Northern ports poured in memorials urging them not to surrender our shipping interests to our rivals, it was known that the West Indies were suffering severely, and word came from England that Parliament was preparing to admit American vessels. Even Colonel Newton, despite the appeal of his :onstituents, remained “inflexibly firm” in support of the American restrictions. Before the session came to an end, an act was passed authorizing the President to open our ports to British vessels from the West Indies, in case Great Britain removed her prohibition upon our vessels. 13 This measure awakened no enthusiasm in Norfolk. “We know that the sugar plantations have petitioned for relief,” said the Herald, “but we fear the British government will do just as much for their relief as Congress has for ours—nothing.” 14 Nonetheless, in July, Parliament did pass an act permitting the importation to certain ports of the West Indies of provisions, lumber, aaval stores, tobacco, etc., from the United States in American vessels, provided this country would remove her restrictions. This looked like ji complete victory for the United States, and President Monroe, on August 24, 1824, issued a proclamation opening American ports to British vessels from the North American colonies. But the duties, vhich were much higher on British than on American ships, he left 10 Ibid,., Nov. 8, 1821. 11 Ibid., Dec. 18, 1821. 12 Ibid., Dec. 18 and 22, 1821. 13 Benns, American Struggle for the British West India Carrying Trade, pp. 80, 81. 14 Norfolk Herald, March 20, 1822. 150 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port unchanged. This, thought the Norfolk Herald, hardly seemed like real reciprocity. So, too, thought British foreign minister Canning. While he was still complaining to Secretary Adams on this point, Congress passed an act directing the President not to yield until Great Britain agreed to lay no higher duties in her colonies on goods from the United States than from Canada, or even from England itself. This was too much. The British retaliated w r ith an order in council imposing a dis¬ criminating tonnage duty on American vessels entering her colonies, and a discriminating duty of 10 per cent on their cargoes. 15 The situation caused a heated controversy in Norfolk. The Beacon supported Colonel Newton and the Federal government; the Herald was sharp in its criticisms. Our muddling representatives have worked us into an untenable position, said the latter, which delays a settle¬ ment indefinitely. In the meanwhile our merchants are ruined, our memorials treated with contempt, and the people of the islands are learning to become independent of us. On the other hand, the Beacon placed the blame on England. “She thinks the ocean is her birth¬ right,” it said, “and expects us to submit to unequal duties in the West Indies in order to drive most of the trade to Canada. It is not to our interest to build up strong British colonies on either side of us, for in time of peace they would lure our seamen from us and in time of war would be a serious menance to our safety. If she expects us to feed her islands, we must be on an equal footing with vessels from St. Johns and Halifax. Let us remain firm. The West Indians are al¬ ready mortgaging their estates; while some are migrating to foreign islands. In the end Great Britain must yield.” 16 Nor was the existing arrangement entirely without its advan¬ tages. The West Indian trade, which had fallen off sharply in 1820, 1821, and 1822, now began to revive. Whereas the exports to the islands from Norfolk in those three years averaged less than St00,000, in the years from 1823 to 1825 the average was $216,000. Of this amount $168,000 represents goods carried in American bottoms. In the first nine months of 1826 exports in American ships w r ere $176,000, in British ships $43,174. 17 In the face of the discriminating tonnage and customs duties, of high export duties, and of onerous port charges, this was all that could be expected. Yet, as compared to the golden days prior to the embargo it seemed trifling, and Norfolk 15 Benns, American Struggle for the British West India Carrying. Trade, pp. 87-99. 16 Norfolk Beacon, Oct. 7, 1823. 17 Norfolk Herald, Oct. n, 1826. Strangled Commerce 151 loped against hope that Great Britain eventually would yield. But the English now made an unexpected move. Believing that the government at Washington was taking advantage of the dependence >f the West Indies upon American food and lumber to seize the ion’s share of the carrying trade, they suddenly threw open their sland ports to all the world. Perhaps the new Latin-American re- >ublics could supply their needs, and so break the chains which >ound them to the United States. Our vessels were to be admitted, )ut only on condition that we abolish our discriminating duties and dace Great Britain on the footing of the most favored nation. This re hesitated to do, and while we were hesitating, an order in council vas issued prohibiting all trade in American vessels with the British West Indies. 18 Renewed negotiations through Albert Gallatin failed o budge the British, so President Adams, under authority of the Act if May 1, 1823, once more closed our ports to British vessels from any British colony in the western hemisphere. 19 The proclamation, which went into operation at once, caught nany Norfolk merchants unprepared. They had made purchases in She Indies, to be brought home in British vessels, and though some vere on their way when the proclamation was issued, they were efused admission at Hampton Roads. “In the whole of our restrictive neasures, we know of none that has borne so hard upon our mer¬ chants as this,” complained the Herald . 20 Intercourse with the British slands continued, of course, through indirect channels. Goods were hipped to the French, Swedish, and Danish West Indies, where Brit- sb vessels took them to Jamaica, or Antigua, or Nevis. But Norfolk’s hare of this trade was small. Her commerce at a low ebb, “a fearfully arge proportion of her population idle, or employed at half time,” he surrounding country impoverished, with grass growing in her :treets, Norfolk was described as “a pensive and desponding city.” 21 A permanent settlement of the dispute over the West India carry- ng trade came in 1830. Andrew Jackson had promised in 1828, in ase he were elected president, to open the British colonies to Amer- can vessels, and he kept his word. Instructing Louis McLean, his minister at St. James’s, to reopen negotiations, he brought the British jo terms by alternate concessions and threats. In the final settlement, 18 Benns, American Struggle for the British West India Carrying Trade, pp. 04-119. ia Ibid., pp. 143-145. 20 Norfolk Herald, April 2, 1827. 21 Ibid., June 25, 1827; Feb. 15, July 9, 1828. !52 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port England retained the right to discriminate in favor of Halifax an* St. John’s, but agreed to admit American vessels to her West Indie on equal terms with British vessels from American ports. The diplc matic battle, which had been waged so fiercely for fifteen years, wa over. History furnishes no clearer example of the injury which may b done by economic war. The efforts of Great Britain, and to a lesse extent of the United States, to gain the lion’s share of the carryin trade reacted disastrously upon both. The unending series of laws orders in council, and proclamations, kept the merchants in a state o uncertainty, and only too often entailed heavy losses. In former day many Norfolk firms had had close ties with the traders of Antigua, o Jamaica, established by years of mutually profitable dealings. It wa impossible to maintain these ties when one year the trade was direc to the British Indies, the next through Bermuda, the next b' way of Halifax or St. John’s. Many Norfolk traders had been ruined and now were in no position to take advantage of the permanen settlement. Moreover, necessity had forced upon the West Indies ; certain degree of economic independence, and they were no longe compelled to come to the American ports for provisions and lumber In 1831 only seventy-nine vessels, forty-three of them British ant thirty-six American, cleared from Norfolk for the British Wes Indies. 22 A sad decline this from the days when the town ranked fourtl or fifth in the tonnage of American ports, and the Elizabeth wa crowded with vessels loading for Antigua, Nevis, and Jamaica. Th< Herald might well ask whether it had not been a mistake for Norfoll to found its prosperity upon a trade so dependent upon the “fluctu ating caprice of a foreign power.” Despite all, it is probable that Norfolk would have regained mucl of the West India trade after the agreement of 1830 had it not beer for the protective tariff. The fostering of the production of sugai and molasses in Louisiana by heavy duties put a damper upon th( intercourse with the Antilles. When the tariff bill of 1820 was intro duced in Congress, it met with a violent protest from the Norfoll Herald. ‘‘If it is designed with any view to relieve the manufacturing interests, there is no excuse for it. In the name of common sense, i: not every section of our country crying out under the afflictive pres sure of the times, as well as the manufacturers?” 23 In 1824, when ; 22 Ibid., March 23, 1832. 23 Ibid., April 26, 1820. Strangled Commerce 153 tew and more radical tariff was proposed, the citizens met in the Town Hall to protest. Declaring that the measure would be ruinous o the commerce and the agriculture of the South, of the state, and 4 orfolk in particular, they appointed a committee to draw up a aemorial, addressed to Congressman Newton, directing him to do all n his power to oppose the new duties. 24 As successive acts built the ariff wall higher and higher, the Norfolk merchants renewed the ttack. On September 9, 1831, another meeting was held in the court¬ house, with Giles B. Cooke chairman, and Alexander Tunstall sec- etary. The tariff was called unequal, unnecessary, and oppressive; njurious to agriculture, commerce, and other interests; and aimed lirectly at the prosperity of the South. 23 But these protests were in vain. Under the protecting wing of high luties, the sugar production of Louisiana doubled and tripled, until t supplied the larger part of the home market. Once or so in a decade, yhen the Southern crop was a failure, the West Indian vessels re- ppeared in the Elizabeth, but normally the sugar and molasses im- >orts were small indeed. In 1844 the entire amount brought into the Jnited States, over the tariff wall of 71 per cent, was valued at 2,467,290. 26 No wonder a visitor to Norfolk in 1835 was struck by the stillness and inactivity that pervaded her wharves, streets, in act the whole town. . . . Poor Norfolk! how are thou fallen; how lifferent from the early days. . . . Then all was bustle, activity and ife. I remember looking through the cabin window of my state 00m on board the packet . . . upon the huge vessels ... in rows i t her wharves, while my ears were greeted with the new (to me), hough pleasing song of the laborers, as they lustily shouted their hoist- ng chorus, in almost deafening peals, from a hundred different vharves and vessels. . . . Now all appeared still—still as the grave.” 27 While the merchants were still repining over the West India trade, hey suddenly awakened to the fact that New York was taking from hem a large part of their century-old commerce with Great Britain. The opening of the Erie canal was making that city the central mart >f all America, and other cities of the Atlantic seaboard, which at one ime aspired to be her rivals, now humbly paid tribute to her com- aercial supremacy. Packet lines to Charleston, Norfolk, and Balti- aore poured the produce of the South upon her wharves, whence it 2 i Ibid., March 1, 1824. 25 Ibid., Sept. 12, 1831. 26 Niles’ National Register, LXVIII, 329. 27 Norfolk Herald, Nov. 16, 1835. 154 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port was shipped to all parts of the world. To an even larger extent sh< became the distributing center for European goods, her merchants im porting in vast quantities and reshipping to other ports on the sea board. Norfolk viewed this development with alarm. Our town, “with al its advantages for foreign and domestic trade, has become nothing bu a thoroughfare between the north and south,” it was said. “Insteac of being what its geographical position entitles it to be—the grea southern seaport—it is reduced to the humiliating condition of wait ing on the pampered aristocracy of New York. In other days Norfolk was a large exporting and importing port, but now, since the concen tration of capital in the North, she has become a hewer of wood anc drawer of water to the lordly merchants of the northern city. New York imports for the whole South, and we, the consumers, not onh pay the duty, but the commissions of her merchants, the freight, anc insurance on the transhipment coastwise. Without foreign commerce Norfolk must dwindle to a village, and Virginia sink to the lowest scale in the Union, while New York, vampire-like, is sucking hei blood to the last drop.” 28 “Norfolk ought to have 100,000 people,” wrote a correspondent signing himself a Friend of the Old Dominion. “Thirty years ago out population was nearly as large as it is now, and for one ship they hac a dozen. All branches of business flourished then as much as the) languish now, when there is a general approach to bankruptcy. We w r ere better off as a colony. The present system takes away our foreign trade, and I have little hope for the preservation of our liberties, when one city is to swallow up all the commerce of the country. I am utterly opposed to the present course of trade, and will go as far at any to break it up, ‘peacefully if we can, forcibly if w r e must’.” 29 In the letters and articles w'hich deluged the newspapers, figure; w r ere marshaled to show Virginia’s commercial decline. In 1791 the exports of the state had been three million dollars or one-sixth of all from the United States; in 1816, eight million dollars or one-tenth ol the whole; while in 1833 they had sunk to $4,500,000 or one-tw r entieth of the whole. In 1806 Norfolk and Portsmouth merchants had owned one hundred and twenty vessels, aggregating 23,207 tons, engaged in foreign commerce; in 1835 Virginia as a whole could not boast ol thirty. As for imports, they had fallen to almost nothing. In the day; 28 Norfolk Beacon, March 13, 1834. 29 Ibid. Strangled Commerce 155 before the embargo from five to seven millions in foreign goods had entered Virginia ports; in 1833 the total was $670,000. “This is a iecline,” said the Beacon, “which in rapidity and amount, has no aarallel in the history of commerce.” No wonder Virginia is becoming mpoverished, when her people pay in commissions to the cities of >ther states $8,000,000, or one-fourth of her entire surplus produc- ion. If this sum were kept at home, it would arrest the torrent of emigration to the West, restore the mercantile credit of the state, mild up her waste places, and bring back in bottoms of her own the ruits of every clime. Some of the Norfolk merchants looked up the commercial statistics or New York and compared them with those of Virginia. This made nteresting reading. In 1791 the imports of New York and of Virginia |vere nearly equal; in 1821 those of New York were $23,000,000, of [ Virginia $1,078,000; in 1832 the figures were $57,000,000 and $550,000 espectively. “Why,” it was asked, “should the Old Dominion buy iirectly from abroad less than one-hundredth as much as New York? Vhy is it that in Norfolk there is now to be seen not a single square- igged vessel? Why were Virginia’s imports in 1769 eleven times treater than in 1837?” 30 The custom house figures for 1837 showed hat the exports of^Virginia amounted to $11,254,539, of which only >5,265,461 went directly from her ports abroad. At the same time ler direct foreign imports were $816,887, and her imports from other tates $10,427,652. The foreign imports reshipped to Virginia from Northern ports were estimated at $4,448,574. 31 Virginia’s foreign rade, formerly almost entirely direct, was now for exports nine- ienths direct and one-tenth circuitous, for imports one-seventh direct md six-sevenths circuitous. So vital did this matter seem to the state and the South, that on 'lovember 14, 1838, a commercial convention met in Norfolk to con- ider measures of relief. The delegates, who came chiefly from the msiness centers of Virginia and North Carolina, assembled in the dethodist church on Cumberland Street. It was known that Colonel Robert Y. Hayne, of South Carolina, famous for his debate with Vebster, would be among the speakers, and the building was S 'rowded beyond its real capacity. “The brightness of the lamps bowed off every object with the clearness of day”—the dignified fig- kre of Governor Tyler in the chairman’s seat, the gay gowns of the la- 30 Ibid., Sept. 21, 1838. 31 Ibid., Oct. 22, 1838. 156 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port dies who thronged the galleries, the earnest, determined faces of the delegates, the speaker himself, fluent and logical as ever. After the addresses various resolutions were passed: recommending steps to re move all state taxes on goods directly imported, to increase banking capital, and to develop roads and canals; urging the citizens to pledge themselves to buy only from those merchants who themselves bought abroad. At a brilliant dinner Colonel Hayne summed up the spirit ol the convention in the following toast: “To our brothers of the North, . . . it is our duty and our interest to cherish the most intimate com¬ mercial relations with our Northern brethren—not, however, as de¬ pendents, but on terms of reciprocal advantage.” 32 The Virginians blamed the decline of their European trade upon their lack of capital. When purchases were made abroad, the im porter had to pay cash to the manufacturer, and, upon the arrival oi his goods, sell on long time. This required large reserves of capital which the Norfolk merchants, because of their many reverses, did not have. They were forced to become mere agents, or purchasers at second hand, from the Northern importers. Nor was this all. The New Yorkers established packet lines to Europe, with vessels whose speed and size gave them an advantage over all rivals. They could afford to lower freight rates, especially upon imports, to a point where it was impossible for the Southern shippers to compete. Their at¬ tempts to absorb also the export trade were less successful, because ol the bulky character of the Southern products. It was a costly business to send a cargo of tobacco, or flour, or cotton to New York, there to be transferred to the trans-Atlantic liners. So ships continued to leave Norfolk for London and Liverpool, but, having taken on their return cargo, they sailed for New York. There they unloaded, and returned to Norfolk, sometimes with a small consignment of goods, sometimes in ballast. 33 An important factor in this development was the increase of immi¬ gration from Europe. In the seventeenth century, when thousands of indentured servants came to Virginia, the master of every tobacco ship, after he had stowed away his boxes of manufactured goods, had room for from ten to twenty persons. But the nineteenth century immigrants avoided the South, where they would be thrown into competition with slave labor, and settled in the great commercial and 32 Ibid., Nov. 14, 16, 17, 1838. 33 Ibid., March 4, 1834; Dec. 29, 1838. Strangled Commerce 157 nanufacturing centers of the North. In 1820 only 8,385 entered the :ountry, but the numbers rose rapidly, to 27,382 in 1828, to 60,482 in 832, and 79,340 in 1838. Many a ship which formerly left Europe lirectly for Norfolk now headed for New York in order to carry its hare of the immigrant horde. Better the short trip from New York to Sforfolk in ballast, than the long trip from Liverpool or Glasgow to Norfolk with a hold two-thirds empty. The character of Norfolk’s trade at this period is made clear by a eference to the list of entries of vessels for a part of March, 1839. uve came in from New York, three from other Northern ports, four- een from places in Virginia and Maryland, three from other South¬ ern states, four from the West Indies, and none from Europe. 34 Of he forty-one vessels entering the Elizabeth from Northern ports in he early weeks of 1839, fourteen came in ballast, ten brought “mer- :handize,” five potatoes, three hay, two ice, one “produce,” one blaster, one oil and candles, one lime and potatoes, one hay and ipples, and two fish and potatoes. There would have been some consolation for Norfolk had the loss )f her European trade been accompanied by a corresponding growth )f the coastal trade. But the development of the steamboat threatened o deprive Norfolk even of the American trade she had long enjoyed. The people of the town had greeted with enthusiasm the first steam- Iriven vessel to enter her port, not foreseeing that for decades this ype of ship would prove a menace to her prosperity. “We have at ength had the satisfaction of seeing in our harbor one of those valu- ible improvements in internal navigation, a steamboat,” said the Gazette and Public Ledger on May 24, 1815. “The elegant steamboat Washington, Captain O’Neale, is now here. She is intended to run retween Washington city and Powtomac creek.” When, a year later, he steamboat Powhatan arrived from New York, to begin a biweekly chedule between Norfolk and Richmond, the press hailed the event 'is the beginning of a new era. 35 “A Norfolk merchant may leave tere one day,” they said, “buy a cargo in Richmond, and be back the text day.” It would be equally easy for the Richmond merchant to :ome down the river to charter a ship to take off his produce. 36 In ruth, so long as the steamboats were used only for inland navigation, j 34 Ibid. (Consult all numbers for March, 1839.) 35 Ibid., May 28, 1816. 36 Ibid., July 30, 1816. 158 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port they served to strengthen Norfolk’s position as the chief port of tide¬ water Virginia, to which the merchants of the Fall Line towns brought their goods for transhipment to ocean-going vessels. But when the New York packets began running under steam power, the effect upon Norfolk proved unfortunate. Since their compara¬ tively light draft made it possible for them to ascend the James and the Potomac, they could trade directly with Richmond, Petersburg, and Alexandria, and so eliminate the necessity of transhipment at Norfolk. In former clays ocean-going vessels, then entirely dependent upon the winds for locomotion, preferred to stop at Norfolk, in order to avoid the tedious ascent of the crooked Virginia rivers. But to the steamboat, curves offered no serious obstacle. “The introduction of steam made seacoast towns no longer neces¬ sary to commerce,” pointed out the Norfolk Post many years after¬ ward, “and, for the time being, the old town was left gradually to fall to ruin and decay on the small business and traffic of the immediate neighborhood. . . . Steamers that can take goods direct to the point of destination on the rivers and bays, and receive their return cargoes at the same points, possess a great advantage over the old sailing vessels, which were compelled to discharge their cargoes . . . at the large harbors on the seacoast. This is the true cause of the gradual decadence of cities on the seacoast like Norfolk, which, unlike New York, New Orleans, Boston, and other great centers of trade, had not become fully established as commercial marts before the era of railroads and steamboats.” 37 So, while Norfolk languished, the Fall Line towns prospered on the Northern trade. In 1855 no less than sixty packets entered the Richmond basin from New York, forty from Baltimore, and twenty-nine from Boston. 38 Clearly Norfolk had to regain her foreign trade, or see the commerce even of Chesa¬ peake waters pass her by as well. At this juncture the opening of the Dismal Swamp canal brought a ray of hope. The people had waited impatiently for the long-delayed completion of this work upon the larger scale. “Wait until the corn, fish, tobacco, pork, and lumber of eastern Carolina begin pouring in through the canal,” they said, “and prosperity will once more be ours.” The advantages of a canal to connect the waters of the Eliza¬ beth River with those of Albemarle Sound were obvious even in 37 Norfolk Post, Sept. 27, 1865. 38 W. F. Dunaway, History of the James River and Kanawha Co. (New York, 1922), p. 165. Strangled Commerce 159 colonial days. To bring the produce of Bertie or Halifax down the rivers, transfer them to larger vessels, and then make the voyage out to the ocean and around to Norfolk was a costly and dangerous under¬ taking. So, in 1787 a company was formed, under a joint charter of Virginia and North Carolina, to dig a canal from Deep Creek, a tributary of the Southern Branch, to Pasquotank River. 39 Because of the slowness of subscribers in paying for their shares, the actual work of digging began several years later. 40 At the outset two serious mistakes were made. The channel was too narrow and shallow, and no competent engineer was employed. With gangs of Negroes at work on either end, the route had not been correctly surveyed, the company did not know how many locks would be necessary or how much dirt must be removed, and so could form no accurate estimate of the cost. La Rochefoucauld inspected the work in 1796 and found the channel completed for five miles at the [ Virginia end, and six at the Pasquotank end. Although digging had then been going on for three years, the most difficult part of the work remained to be done. 41 As it turned out, the company had under¬ estimated the cost, for the locks proved expensive, and it was found necessary to dig a feeding canal from Lake Drummond, in the heart of the swamp. When the funds ran out and the company had ex¬ hausted its credit with the banks, the work came to a standstill. The best the company could do was to connect the two sections of the canal by means of a road. Boats took the Carolina produce to the end of the south section, whence it was carried by wagons to the northern section, there to be transferred to the waiting Norfolk boats. In this way a large traffic was carried on in the years prior to the War of 1812, tolls in one year alone amounting to six thousand dollars, or 7 per cent on the capital invested. 42 At intervals, as funds came in, digging was resumed, and in 1808 had progressed to a point where it was estimated that five hundred men could complete it in three months. 43 “Why not employ the sailors thrown out of work by the embargo,” it was suggested, ‘‘and enjoy without further delay the full benefits of the great project?” But the company either would not or could not fol¬ low this advice, and the nibbling process continued. As one writer expressed it, the canal went on as slowly as though “the age of 39 Forrest, Sketches of Norfolk, p. 97. 40 Virginia Chronicle, Jan. 5, 1793. 41 La Rochefoucauld, Voyages dans les Ltats-Unis, IV, 258, 259. 42 Norfolk Gazette and Public Ledger, April 14, 1808. 43 Ibid. 160 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port Methuselah, and not that of the Psalmist, were the prescribed perio of human life.” 44 The British blockade of Chesapeake Bay in the War of 1812 an the resulting urgent demand for an inland waterway to Albemarl Sound seem to have provided the needed impetus, and at last, i June, 1814, boats began coming through the canal. The first to reac Norfolk came from Scotland Neck, on the Roanoke River, wit bacon and brandy. The boat was of twenty tons burden, and at or place in the canal the master was obliged to lighten the cargo. Immediately the North Carolina produce began to come through i large quantities. One person alone paid tolls, from December 8, 1811 to June 1, 1816, on 394,000 staves, 478,000 shingles, 2,233 barrels t corn, 10,000 pounds of bacon, 370 barrels of tar, 6 barrels of pitcl 371 barrels of fish, 27 barrels of oil, 59 casks of flax seed, 2 casks c beeswax, and 16 kegs of lard, in all worth $32,000, or enough t load four ships of three hundred tons. 46 However, the traffic, born of the necessities of war, served only t show the inadequacies of the canal. Vessels which were large enoug to navigate safely the waters of Albemarle and Pamlico sounds wer too large to get through the new waterway. The depth and width c the canal must be increased at once, the number of locks reducer or trade would resume its old channels. The company, having ha proof of the volume of traffic which might be expected, appealed t the state legislature for support. In all they secured three loans, tw for $50,000 each and one for $37,500. They also received permissio to increase the number of shares, and soon after sold a large block t the United States government. 47 Yet it was only in the winter c 1828, thirty-six years after the first shovelful of dirt was removec that the canal, completed on the larger scale, was ready for traffic. The people of Norfolk, when they thought of the rapidity wit which the Erie canal had been pushed through, had reason to rue th delays in digging their own waterway. Nonetheless, they were prou' of the work. The canal was twenty-two and a half miles long, had a .average width of forty feet, and accommodated vessels drawing 51/ feet. 49 There were five massive stone locks, two at the north end risin 44 Norfolk Beacon, May 3, 1836. 45 Norfolk Gazette and Public Ledger, June 11, 1814. See above, p. 114. 46 Ibid., June 1, 1816. 47 Norfolk Beacon, March 17, April 10, 1826. 48 Norfolk Herald, June 13, 1828. 49 Ibid., April 2, 1838. Strangled Commerce 161 hirteen feet, another ten miles south rising 31/2 feet; the Culpeper ack six miles further on, falling 3 y 2 feet, and finally the lock at the [ outh end, falling thirteen feet. At Deep Creek, fifteen feet above ea-Ievel, was a basin a half mile long. The entire work cost eight hundred thousand dollars. 50 1 Expectations of a rich trade through the canal were heightened ut there was now a canal around these obstructions. Thus the Dis- aal Swamp canal opened not only the trade of the sounds with their ributary rivers, the Black Water, Nottoway, Meherrin, and Chowan, >ut that of the upper Roanoke as well; and it was expected that the obacco, cotton, flour, hemp, and flax of Warren, Mecklenburg, Hali- ax, and Charlotte counties would pour in upon Norfolk. 51 But in une, 1828, the Herald reminded the Norfolk people that the new System of waterways would prove of no benefit unless the proper essels were provided. The light river boats were expected to deposit heir cargoes at Weldon, where steam towboats and barges must >e ready to take on the goods for the long journey to Norfolk. Ac¬ cordingly the Virginia and North Carolina Transportation Company vas organized, and some months later a steamer, the Petersburg, and ight barges were ready for work. 52 The canal was opened December 31, 1828, and the long-expected tream of traffic began. The people of Norfolk watched anxiously is some of the larger vessels sailed past to Richmond, or to Baltimore, >ut they soon found that the bulk of the goods came directly to their ivharves. From June 15 to June 29, 1829, eighteen lighters with hingles and staves, twelve rafts of timber and spars, one sloop, and hree schooners came through bound for Norfolk. The traffic south rom Norfolk in the same period consisted of two schooners for Wel- !on, two sloops and one schooner for Currituck, three schooners for i|»eaufort, two sloops and one schooner for Elizabeth City, five schoon¬ ers and two sloops for Edenton. 53 This was merely the beginning, n 1829 the northbound trade comprised 770 hogshead of tobacco, 50 Ibid., Nov. 11, 1829; Martin, Gazetteer of Virginia, pp. 243, 244. 51 Norfolk Herald, June 16, 1828. 52 Ibid., June 13, 1828; July 16, 1830. 53 Ibid., July 16, 1830. 162 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port 1,964 bales of cotton, 2,937 barrels of flour, 2,507 barrels of fish 30,000 bushels of corn, 1,170,000 staves, 14,296,000 shingles, anc 2,037 barrels of turpentine. 54 The cotton trade was especially interest ing to the Norfolk people, and when the steamboat Petersburg cam< in, towing the barges Dan and Roanoke, piled high with bales crowds came down to the wharf to view them. As the months passed, the Norfolk papers noted exultantly that the traffic through the canal was increasing rapidly. The cost of shipping tobacco, flour, or cotton in wagons over the dirt roads of Virginia from the upper Roanoke to Richmond or Petersburg was so heavy thai Norfolk had visions of monopolizing the trade of the entire Roanoke Valley. The freight charges from Danville to Norfolk on a hogshead of tobacco were $8.50; to Richmond by way of Lynchburg and the James River, $24.50. 55 Yet it w T as not the trade of the upper Roanoke but of the lower river and of Albemarle Sound which crowded the canal. So great was the increase that tolls grew from $11,658, ir 1829 to $18,437 in *830 and to $27,030 in 1831. In the year ending April 30, 1833, tolls were $34,05g. 56 In the same twelve months the northward traffic rose to $1,713,796. Of this sum forest products mast timber, planks, scantling, stoves, shingles, posts, fence-rails, fire¬ wood, and naval stores accounted for $724,918; cotton for $478,842: tobacco for $205,793; flour for $57,792; corn for $136,021; and wheat flax seed, and sweet potatoes for $34,667; fish for $47,908; provisions for $20,304; and wine, molasses, and sugar for $7,500. The south¬ bound vessels carried merchandise, salt, coffee, molasses, sugar, flour, pork, liquors, and other products valued at $780,088, making a grand total for both ways of $2,493,884. 37 The breaking down of the south lock interrupted traffic in 1835, but the next year it was resumed in greater volume than ever. 58 In October, 1836, sixty-seven schooners, three sloops, sixteen lighters, and twenty-one rafts passed through to Norfolk, nine schooners and sloops to Baltimore, and two schooners to the District of Columbia; while sixty-four schooners, three sloops, and seventeen lighters re¬ turned from Norfolk, tw r o sailing vessels from Richmond, seven from Baltimore, three from the District of Columbia, and one from New York. 59 In October, 1837, northward traffic consisted of eighty-seven 54 Ibid., March ig, 1832. 55 Ibid., May 18, 1829. 56 Ibid., March ig, 1832; May 22, 1833. 57 Ibid., May 22, 1833. 5 S Ibid., Sept. 21, 1835. 59 Ibid., Dec. 6, 1836. Strangled Commerce 163 chooners, seven sloops, sixteen lighters, and twenty-one rafts, and outhward traffic of ninety-five schooners, five sloops, and seventeen ighters. 60 At a time when Norfolk was bemoaning the shrinkage of ler foreign trade, this canal commerce was all-important. Without it business would have been dead. From time to time there were criticisms of the canal company. ‘Nine-tenths of the trade of Norfolk comes from Albemarle Sound,” t was said, “yet the chief artery through which it must How is luggish. The shoals and logs in the canal are so bad that boats iften have to lighten their cargoes, the locks and bridges are anti¬ quated, in places the channel is too narrow for vessels to pass each lather, the water is often low, the approaches at each end are crooked und obstructed by stumps.” 61 North Carolina threatened to make it- ;elf independent of the canal by deepening the outlets from her iounds; the Norfolk merchants to cut a new canal to connect the waters of the Southern Branch with those of Currituck Sound. Yet dec¬ ide after decade the stream of commerce continued, until the com- iany had met all its obligations and was paying a regular dividend of p per cent. For the year ending September 30, 1852, tolls were $45,119, he northbound trade alone including 4,947 bales of cotton, 24,395 larrels of fish, and 837,748 bushels of corn. 62 Four years later the imount of corn carried had risen to 1,300,000 bushels. 63 Had the Carolina products been reshipped directly to Europe or :he West Indies, as in former days, the canal would have made Nor¬ folk once more an important commercial center. But the larger part was loaded on coasters and sent to New York, Boston, Philadelphia, ir Baltimore. To those who remembered the golden days before the embargo, when the port was crowded with ships from foreign lands, this seemed at best an humble and unprofitable business. “Norfolk las the best harbor in the United States,” they declared. “She should gather into her lap the products of the back country within a radius if 500 miles, and ship them out to every part of the globe, in packet lines controlled by her own merchants. But before she can fulfil this destiny, she must have great avenues of commerce reaching out into the west, enterprising merchants of the stamp of Moses Myers and William Pennock, and capital to back them. Otherwise Norfolk will remain a mere stopping place in the north and south traffic. The 60 Ibid., Nov. 24, 1837. 61 Norfolk Beacon, May 12, 1845; Daily Southern Argus, Jan. 22, Jan. 25, 1849. 62 Daily Southern Argus, Nov. 29, 1852. 63 Ibid., Feb. 9, 1857. 164 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port canal is invaluable, it has staved off ruin, but it will take more that a ditch through to Albemarle Sound to make Norfolk a second Net j York.” It was fortunate, in these hard times, that the Federal governmen selected Gosport as the site of one of its navy yards. The outlay o money for docks, workshops, storehouses, and warships not only prc vided a market for timber, rope, ironware, and sails, but it gavi employment to scores of carpenters, stone masons, bricklayers, ship wrights, and sailors. The construction of one great warship alone such as the ship-of-the-line Delaware, meant the expenditure of man' thousands of dollars. The launching of the Delaware, in October 1820, was acclaimed as an evidence not only of America’s determi nation never again to leave her commerce without protection on the ocean, but of the mechanical skill of the Southern shipwrights. / throng of twenty thousand people assembled. The river was dottet with boats of all descriptions, among them the steamships Virginia Richmond, Petersburg, and Sea-Horse, and the famous frigatt Guerriere, her masts gay with streamers. Color was lent to the crowc on shore by the presence of the famous Richmond Light Infantr Blues. As the ship glided into the water, a shout arose, accompaniec by the blare of bands and the roar of cannon. 64 Ten years later, the Delaware, then completed, graced anothe: event of great significance for Norfolk—the opening of the stone dr dock at the Navy Yard. This work, the first of its kind in America required six years for its completion and cost nearly a million dollars The chamber was 253 feet long, 8514 feet wide and accommodatec our largest vessels. On June 17, 1833, when the gates swung opei and the sailors, tugging away at the capstan, drew the Delawari slowly in, thousands of people looked on from stands erected or either side. It was a scene long to be remembered—the gaily dressec ladies, the handsome uniforms of the naval officers, the warship, witl her towering masts, her three rows of gun-ports, the Indian figure head, and the Stars and Stripes flapping behind; in the backgrounc the Southern Branch with its wooded shore. At last the ship came tc rest. The gates were closed, and the pumping began. The day 0 careening vessels at the Navy Yard was past. 65 Among the vessels built at the Navy Yard were the frigate St Lawrence, the sloop John Adams, the surveying brig Pioneer, th( 64 Norfolk Herald, Oct. 23, 1820. 65 Stewart, History of Norfolk County, pp. 433-437. Strangled Commerce 165, .loop Yorktown, the steamer Union, the brig Perry, the sloop James- own, the store-ship Southampton, and the steam-frigates Powhatan, Roanoke, and Colorado . 66 At the same time extensive shipbuilding iperations were carried on by private concerns. Among their more loteworthy feats were the construction of the ship General Washing- on, of 420 tons, by Porter and Dyson, launched in 1815; 67 the packet Mewburn, by John P. Colley, and the steamship North Carolina , >y Ryan and Gayle, both launched in 1829; 68 th e ships Madison, if 470 tons, and Washington, of 530 tons, launched from the yards of saac Talbot, the former in 1828 and the latter in 1833. 69 In 1853 Page tnd Allen, of Portsmouth, had under construction a clipper of 1500 ons, at that time the largest vessel ever laid down south of New fork. 70 From time to time in the period between the War of 1812 and the Civil War, we catch glimpses of the industrial life of Norfolk. Joseph Martin, in his Gazetteer of Virginia, published in 1836, tells us that he place boasted of three banks—the United States Bank, the Vir¬ ginia Bank, and the Farmers’ Bank of Virginia—ten hotels, three .team mills, three tanyards, two ropewalks, in addition to the various ‘mechanical pursuits.” Ten steamboats plied from Norfolk to Balti- nore, Richmond, and other places. In 1853 there were seven banks, ive hotels, five daily papers, an insurance company, a gas company, Tree shipbuilding concerns, an iron foundry, cordage and oakum works, besides carriage, furniture, and cotton plants. The capital nvested in manufactures was about $570,ooo. 71 The population was :i4,320. 72 For a place possessed of one of the best harbors in the world, within in hour or two of the ocean, and flanked by a network of inland waterways, the situation was disappointing indeed. Completely out- listanced by New York, Boston, Philadelphia, and Baltimore, the leople of the “old borough” ruminated sadly over her unfortunate listory, and inquired among themselves for the proper measures to ecure the prosperity and commercial greatness which by right was heirs. 66 Ibid., pp. 429-442. 67 Norfolk Gazette and Public Ledger, Oct. 21, 1815. ^Norfolk Herald, June 3, Dec. 2, 1829. 69 Ibid., Nov., 29, 1833. 70 Forrest, Sketches of Norfolk, p. 34s n. 71 Ibid., pp. 344-345. 72 Ibid., p. 270. CHAPTER EIGHT The Fall Line Blockade In the United States the period of canal building was quickly followed by that of railroad construction. The Erie canal, which was opened in 1826, worked wonders for New York. DeWitt Clinton had declared that it would make the city “the granary of the world, the emporium of commerce, the seat of manufactures, the focus of great moneyed operations,” and the fulfilment of this prophecy began at once. The products of the West came through the canal and down the Hudson, the wharves of Manhattan were piled with bags and barrels, packet lines were organized to carry them to foreign lands, the population of the city doubled, tripled, quadru¬ pled. Philadelphia, Boston, Baltimore, became alarmed. If New York drained the entire western country, they would be eclipsed. Anxiously they looked for some means of communication with the trans- Allegheny region, which would permit them to share in the great prize. Baltimore was the first to hit upon the railway. Having behind it no long navigable river, out of touch with the Chesapeake and Ohio canal, it grasped eagerly at the new carrier. So, three years after the opening of the Erie canal, the cornerstone of the Baltimore and Ohio railway was laid. “We are commencing a new era in our history,” said John B. Morris, one of the directors. “It is but a few years since the introduction of steamboats effected powerful changes. Of a simi¬ lar and equally important effect will be the Baltimore and Ohio Rail¬ road. While the one will have stemmed the torrent of the Mississippi, the other will have surmounted and reduced the heights of the Al¬ legheny.” The foresight of Baltimore gave her a long start over Norfolk, her natural rival in the race for the western trade. Norfolk first thought of the railway, not as a means of crossing the The Fall Line Blockade 167 mountains, but as a supplement to river transportation. She had seen Richmond outdistance her because of the James River trade; she now sought to draw to her wharves the products of another fertile river valley. The failure of the Dismal Swamp canal to attract the upper Roanoke trade had caused keen disappointment. The necessity of transferring goods at Weldon, together with the dangers and delays of the trip down the lower Roanoke, through Albemarle Sound, up the Pasquotank, and through the canal, had discredited this route. The bulk of their produce still went overland to the James or the Appomattox, and so to Richmond or Petersburg. In August, 1829, came the disconcerting news that Petersburg was planning a railway to the upper Roanoke, a general town meeting having requested that the President of the United States detail an engineer to examine and report on the route. 1 Later a company was organized, the town subscribed $130,000, aid was asked from the state and Federal governments, and the actual work of construction began. The rails ran south through Dinwiddie, Sussex, and Greens¬ ville counties, to a point on the Roanoke just below the falls. Twelve months later forty miles of track had been completed, and in 1836 the road was in full swing. “They now have three engines upon the road,” says Martin’s Gazetteer, “a part of which have been at work upward of nine months, and make their trips with as much regularity as could have been expected from horse power.” 2 3 Norfolk was stirred into action. **‘Jt is absurd for Petersburg to aspire to be a great port,” said the Norfolk papers. “Why, most of her people never saw a ship. At the same time we must not lose sight of the fact that they may draw off the Roanoke trade from our canal, if this railway goes through. The question is this: Will Norfolk, within hail of the sea, or Petersburg, on the tiny Appomattox, become the market of North Carolina and the Roanoke Valley? We must bestir ourselves and lay down a railway of our own to the Roanoke, if we hope to retain our share of this trade.’^Accordingly the Portsmouth- Weldon railway was projected, to run seventy-six miles through Nor¬ folk, Nansemond, Southampton, and Northampton counties to the Roanoke near the terminus of the projected Petersburg line. The people of Norfolk—merchants, storekeepers, mechanics—subscribed liberally, the borough took one hundred thousand dollars in stock. 1 Niles’ Weekly Register, Sept. 5, 1829. 2 Martin, Gazetteer of Virginia, pp. 162, 163. 3 Norfolk Herald, Feb. 27, 1833. 168 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port Portsmouth added fifty thousand dollars and the work of construction was begun. But when the company went to the state legislature with a request for financial aid, the Petersburg interest was able to block it in the Senate through a tie vote of fourteen to fourteen. 4 This caused great indignation in Norfolk. “Thus we stand, the goose to be plucked for the benefit of our more favored neighbors,” said the Herald. “The legislature have demanded from our canal company the money lent them, at interest, some years ago; whether convenient to them or ruinous to the work, it matters not. The money is wanted to build up other towns. But when we ask a small portion to aid us in a work es¬ sential to our interest, the door of the treasury is slammed in our face. . . . That the Petersburg interest should have been arrayed against us ... is only what might have been expected, . . . but the opposition of the Richmond interest can be stimulated by nothing but a deep-rooted jealousy. Well, go on gentlemen, you have for a time succeeded . . . but you have not put us down. With our own resources we will complete the railway.” 5 This was the opening of a wordy battle between the Norfolk and Petersburg papers. The Petersburg Intelligencer reminded the Herald that the legislature had already done its share in aiding Norfolk by the purchase of the canal bonds. Petersburg, it pointed out, was a far better market than Norfolk. Even after the digging of the canal, the greater part of the Roanoke produce had come to the Appomat¬ tox in wagons. “The truth is,” it added sagely, “Norfolk is too far out toward the sea, cut off from the fertile regions of the interior by swamps and sterile plains. The produce of the back country will always change hands at more convenient market towns, near the head of navigation.” To this the Herald replied in sarcastic vein. “So it is not desirable to have shipping ports near the sea,” it said. “In view of this severe handicap, we wonder why New York has grown so great. Perhaps the Intelligencer will enlighten us on this point.” But the Petersburg editor was not to be floored. True New York was near the ocean, but were not Philadelphia, Baltimore, London, and Paris, like Petersburg, all up rivers? Let Norfolk explain that if it could. “This is very good again,” came back the Herald. “But is there no difference between the Patapsco, the Delaware, the Thames, and the Seine, and your poor little, muddy Appomattox? Is it nothing that 4 Ibid., March i, 1833. 5 Ibid. The Fall Line Blockade 169 gallant ships can go to all those places, but cannot go to Petersburg?” In 1834 the Portsmouth-Weldon railway again applied for aid from the legislature, and, despite the renewed opposition of the Fall Line towns, was successful. The vote in the Senate was sixteen to fifteen. When on Sunday, January 19, the steamship Patrick Henry arrived with the glad tidings, she was greeted with cheers from the crowds who lined the wharves on both sides of the river. Church bells rang out, guns were fired, bonfires blazed in the principal streets, every house was illuminated, rockets shot up over the river. The news was conveyed to Suffolk by field-pieces placed at intervals along the rail¬ way, which were fired in succession. Prosperity seemed at hand. Now that the success of the railway was assured, the tobacco, flour, cotton, and grain of the Roanoke would come to Norfolk, the merchants would once more be busy, the wharves piled high, the river full of vessels. Work proceeded rapidly. A brick shop, 118 feet by 30 feet, was erected at Portsmouth, and equipped with lathes and other machin¬ ery for manufacturing and repairing locomotives and cars. 6 The rails were of heart pine, nine inches by five, the upper side plated with two-inch iron bars, fastened to ties with white oak wedges. Although it was decided to use steam power for locomotion, the ties were notched in the center to admit a path for horses in case of emergency. When¬ ever trains were to run into sidings, at depots and water stations, a turntable, worked by a hand lever, was made use of. This device was preferable to iron switches, so it was thought, since the latter were apt to throw the locomotive off the track. 7 The management at first was puzzled as to whether their cars should be equipped with wooden wheels, cast iron wheels, or wheels with cast iron spokes and wrought iron rims and flanges. After long deliberation the last named type was adopted. In August, 1833, the tracks had progressed four miles from the west end of High Street. Four months later “three beautiful cars” arrived, two from Baltimore, and one, having three compartments large enough for thirty people, from Hoboken. 8 At last, in July, 1834, the line was completed to Suffolk, and the president and directors made the trip in one of the new cars, drawn by horses. And now produce began to come in. Jesse Lankford, of Southampton, arrived 6 Virginia Board of Public Works, Reports (Seventeenth, Eighteenth, and Nine¬ teenth) , 473. 7 Ibid., p. 470. 8 Norfolk Herald, Dec. 16, 1833. Norfolk: Historic Southern Port 170 at Portsmouth over the railway with ten thousand pounds of bacon and lard, and ten barrels of vinegar. 9 This was an earnest, so it was said, of what was to follow. By August 17 a regular schedule for horse cars had been established to Suffolk, with carriages in attendance at Ferry wharf to convey passengers to the High Street depot. Excitement reached its height in September, with the arrival of the first locomotive. This tiny engine, weighing about five tons, was chris¬ tened John Barrett, in honor of the first white man to ascend the Roanoke River above the great falls. 10 On its first trip to Suffolk it drew an excursion train, with the president, the directors, prominent citizens of Norfolk, a brass band, and the Portsmouth Grays. The pas¬ sengers held their breath as the train rushed along at fifteen miles an hour and laughed to see horses and cows snort with terror and rush to the woods. They could hardly credit their eyes when they arrived at Suffolk in one hour and twenty minutes. On the return journey “night came upon us, and the chimney of the locomotive, with its stream of sparks lighting up the gloom of the swamp, was a source of general admiration.” 11 In July, 1835, the line had been completed to Nottoway, forty-two miles from Portsmouth. Trains, drawn by an¬ other locomotive, the General Cabell, made the trip in three hours. The route lay through a desolate country, with “no hamlets, no villas, no churches, no towns, nothing to relieve the monotony of the sylvan scene except a few small farm-steads . . . and here and there a bar¬ ren field or half-grown crop of old-field hickory.” 12 By December Margarettsville, across the Carolina border, had been reached, 13 in August, 1836, the terminus was Garysville, a few miles from the Roa¬ noke, 14 and in June, 1837, the entire line was completed, the bridge over the river built, and trains running to Weldon. 15 Now came disappointment. Railroad building was still in the ex¬ perimental stage, and it was soon discovered that the management had made several serious blunders. Experience showed that the com¬ pany could not economically manufacture its own rolling stock, and the outlay on machine shops was practically wasted. Two new loco¬ motives proved too heavy for the wooden rails, and after a few months of use, wrecked large sections of track. Before the end of 9 Norfolk Beacon, Aug. 9, 1834. 10 Virginia Board of Public Works, Report (Twentieth) . 11 Norfolk Beacon, Oct. 6, 1834. 12 Norfolk Herald, July 29, 1835. 13 Ibid., Dec. 7, 1835. 14 Norfolk Beacon, Aug. 4, 1836. 15 Norfolk Herald, June g, 1837. The Fall Line Blockade l 7 l 1837 it was reported that all along the line many rails were crushed and that between Portsmouth and Suffolk especially, the road was entirely broken down and almost impassable. Here and there the iron plates had become loose, leaving the ends projecting several inches above the timbers. In December, 1837, a train of three passen¬ ger cars, carrying twenty-five or thirty people, and nine freight cars laden with cotton, ran into one of these “snake-heads.” The locomo¬ tive left the track, upsetting the tender, wrecking the coaches, and injuring seventeen people. 16 Nor was this the only accident on the road. Earlier in 1837 two trains had collided, splintering a number of cars, killing three persons, and injuring many others. 17 Staggering under these accumulated misfortunes, the company elected a new president, 18 employed a new engineer, and set about the work of reconstruction. The damaged rails were replaced and edged with new iron, many rotten ties were discarded, the heavy locomotives were exchanged for lighter ones. An “agent” was placed on the top of the baggage car on each train as a lookout, ready to apply the brakes in case of need, and to signal the engineer by means of a rope at¬ tached to the bell. 19 These improvements were accompanied by in¬ creased facilities for traffic. In Portsmouth the rails were extended to the water’s edge, a ferry connection was established with Norfolk, and new and better cars were purchased. 20 But, when, despite all, the bulk of the traffic continued to go to Petersburg, the people of Norfolk became discouraged. “The rail¬ road which cost us so much, and from which we expected such great things, is now completed,” they said. “Why does not the tobacco, flour, cotton, bacon, lard, and corn come through?” The Petersburg road, it seems, had outmaneuvered its rival by intercepting the traffic of the upper Roanoke by means of a branch from Hicksford, on its main line, to Gaston on the river above the falls. There was no reason why the farmers should take their pioduce over the falls, or I through the dilapidated locks to Weldon, when they could transfer them to the Petersburg trains higher up the river. 21 But hope was revived by the construction of a railway from Wel¬ don to Wilmington, to which Norfolk citizens subscribed liberally, 16 Ibid., Dec. 13, 1837. 17 Ibid., Aug. 7, Sept. 29, 1837. 18 Colonel Andrew Joiner. 19 Virginia Board of Public Works, Report (Twenty-third). 20 Norfolk Herald, Sept. 1, 1838. 21 Norfolk Beacon, Jan. 25, Feb. 1, 1839. 172 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port opening a new north and south connection all the way from Balti¬ more to Wilmington. Passengers could leave Baltimore on the fine Chesapeake Bay steamers, transfer at Norfolk to the Portsmouth line for Weldon and then take the train for Wilmington. The Petersburg company, cut off from this trade by the fact that its terminus at Blakely was on the north bank of the Roanoke, attempted to pur¬ chase a half-interest in the bridge at Weldon. Protracted negotiations followed, in an effort to agree on the price, the Petersburg trains using the bridge in the meanwhile. In the end the Petersburg com¬ pany declined to purchase, and when the bridge was closed to them, made connection with the Wilmington line by sending their passen¬ gers by wagon and boat to Halifax. This proved a serious inconven¬ ience. Passengers complained that after leaving the train at Blakely, they had “to walk down a most miserable dirty way, in mud knee deep,’’ then descend the river in an open boat, and finally to jolt over a bad road in a wagon to Halifax, where they waited twenty-four hours for the train. 22 To offset this disadvantage, the Petersburg com¬ pany made an agreement with the Richmond and Fredericksburg to lower the fares from Washington to the Roanoke River. “They have come down to a fraction of their former rates,” stated the Beacon, and threaten to “run for nothing and give a bottle of wine,” should their rivals meet the reduction. Nonetheless, the Portsmouth connec¬ tion did announce a new through rate of $7.00 from Baltimore to Weldon. 23 Yet disaster lay ahead. The bridge over the Roanoke had been ex¬ ceedingly costly, and over thirty thousand dollars was still due the various contractors. Rochelle and Smith, the largest of these creditors, made repeated efforts to collect, and, failing in this, sold their claims to Captain Francis E. Rives, a representative of the Petersburg line. This practically delivered the Portsmouth railway into the hands of its rival, and Captain Rives at once took steps to seize the company’s property in North Carolina in default of payment. One night he brought forty Negroes to a point on the railway south of Margarette- ville, ripped off the iron and displaced the ties at intervals for a dis¬ tance of two miles. When news of this vandalism reached Portsmouth thirty or forty citizens rushed by train to the scene and set to work to repair the damage. They found that Rives had continued the work of destruction while they were on the way, tearing up the floor of the 22 Ibid., April 28, 1841. 23 Ibid., Sept. 29, 1840. The Fall Line Blockade *73 bridge over the Petersburg line, and cutting the timbers of a trestle nearby. In the end Rives was arrested, the damage repaired, and train service renewed. But in the legal battle which followed, the railway was the loser, the Supreme Court of North Carolina deciding [ that Rives had a legal title to the seventeen miles of the road in that state, and that he had a right to stop traffic if he so desired. This he did at the earliest notice. “We have not one word to say against the decision of the court,” remarked the Herald; “it shows us, however, that the law is a paradox in some cases; for while guarding individual rights, it may subserve the most reprobate purposes.” 24 The end was now close at hand. For some months an effort was made to continue service to the North Carolina border, but in the spring of 1845 the trains had to be taken off. Norfolk’s first effort to turn the new method of transportation to her benefit, had ended in failure, and disappointment and gloom pervaded the town. On September 4, 1846, the Portsmouth railway with its cars, engines, and depots was purchased by the Board of Public Works of Portsmouth for sixty-two thousand dollars and the rolling stock was stored for possible use in the future. 25 In the meanwhile the question of a scheme of internal improve¬ ments embracing all Virginia had been engaging the public attention. The Old Dominion was sinking lower and lower in the list of states in wealth and population; thousands of her youth were leaving to seek their fortunes in the West; 26 her foreign commerce had fallen to the lowest ebb. Something must be done to restore her ancient prestige. In 1831, when the legislature met, a system of internal improvements was proposed. But now sectional jealousies arose to render these efforts futile. West was arrayed against east; the Fall Line towns against the seaports; one Fall Line town against another; canal in¬ terests against railroads. “There has been as much talk about internal improvements in the legislature as would fill many folio volumes,” it was said, but the “system proposed was debated and amended to death.” 27 Some of the members could not see that canals were needed, to say nothing of the absurd dream of cars drawn over rails by puffing steam engines. These “old fogies” drew the fire of a fellow representa¬ tive. Virginia has too many “let-us-alone politicians,” he said; “very 24 Niles' National Register, April 12, 1845. 25 Norfolk Beacon, Sept. 5, 1846. 26 “Upwards of 30 or 40 of our most promising young men will, in the short period of one month, bid adieu to our good old borough.” Ibid., 1835. 27 Niles’ Weekly Register, March 26, 1831, p. 58. *74 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port pious too—as much so as the Council of Castile, who said that if God had intended a certain river to be navigable, he would himself have made it so. They would not fight against God, No! No!” 28 “Hogs¬ heads of tobacco will yet be rolled to market,” was the sarcastic com¬ ment of one paper, “and if it had been the practice in Virginia to make horses draw the plough by their tails, what a world of words should we have had before any change could be made in that re¬ spect!” 29 In 1832 the ultra-conservatives were so far overcome that the legis¬ lature took a step of far-reaching importance—it passed an act in¬ corporating the James River and Kanawha Company, and subscribed a hundred thousand dollars of its stock. 30 This company was charged with the task of connecting Richmond with the Ohio, either by canals or railways, or by both. Unfortunately the corporation, influenced chiefly by Joseph C. Cabell, elected to continue the James River canal to a point not lower than Lynchburg, to make the Kanawha navigable, and to connect the two waterways with a railway. 31 The results of this blunder were far-reaching indeed. It cost Virginia hundreds of millions of dollars, it cut her off from the Ohio valley trade, it made the economic union of east and west impracticable, and played an important part in the eventual disruption of the state. Perhaps it was not to be expected that the legislature and the com¬ pany should see at this early date, when the period of experimenta¬ tion was not yet over, the possibilities of railroad transportation. The weight of tradition was on the side of canals. George Washington had dreamed of a canal over the mountains to the Ohio; was it wise to abandon his plans? Was it not the Erie canal which had made New York so wealthy and powerful? They did not stop to consider that in their own scheme profits would be eaten up by constant tranship¬ ments—from the Kanawha to the railway, from the railway to the canal, from the canal to the lower James. They did not dream that eventually railways would prove so efficient that even the great Erie canal could not compete with them. Without serious misgivings they based Virginia’s bid for economic unity and for trade with the Ohio region upon canal construction. A few years later, when the blunder was obvious to all, it was too late to effect a change. Those who had invested their money in the 28 ibid. 29 Ibid. 30 Dunaway, History of the James River and Kanawha Co., pp. 97, g8. 31 Ibid., pp. 119-121. The Fall Line Blockade 175 James River Company formed a solid phalanx against every proposal to parallel their route with a railway. So late as 1846, when a bill was introduced for a railway from Richmond to the Ohio, in which the state was to invest $4,800,000, the canal interest gathered enough votes to kill it. 32 Had Virginia been able to grasp fully the significance of the new era of transportation, had she placed her dependence upon railways and laid out a wise and comprehensive scheme of construction, how different would have been her history! Instead of squandering mil¬ lions on unwise projects, her outlay would have been returned many times over in increased commerce and manufactures; instead of rush¬ ing on to disunion, she would have bound her western counties with the bands of economic interest. It is easy today to see what should have been done. Starting with Norfolk, the state’s only great ocean port, a railway should have been built west to Petersburg, Richmond, Charlottesville, Staunton, Charleston, and the Ohio River. There should have been no delay for minor undertakings, no side lines, until the one central trunk railway had been put into operation. Then the north and south lines could have been added; from Washington to Richmond, from Danville to Lynchburg to Charlottesville, from Win¬ chester to Staunton, from Abingdon to Staunton, from Wheeling and Parkersburg to Charleston. Had this been done the products of all Virginia—the tobacco and cotton of Pittsylvania and Halifax, the fruit of the Shenandoah, the grain of Mason and Cabell, would have poured through this system down to Norfolk. Here it would have gone out to the ports of the world in vessels of Virginia’s own making, in exchange for direct imports. Norfolk would have rivaled Baltimore and Philadelphia; migration from Virginia to the West would have been checked; pros¬ perity, wealth, growth would have returned to the Old Dominion. But this was not to be. The Fall Line towns would not consent to the connecting of Norfolk with the back country. Having developed under the old system of river navigation, they were determined to maintain their ascendency by legislative action. If trainloads of goods came through from the west to Norfolk without so much as stopping at Richmond or Petersburg, would not Richmond and Petersburg sink to mere villages? They would see to it that whatever lines were built, whether railways or canals, should stop at the Fall Line, so as to perpetuate the present conditions. Norfolk must be isolated, out of 32 Niles’ National Register, Jan. 10, 24, 1846. 176 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port touch with the country beyond Petersburg, Richmond, Fredericks¬ burg, and Alexandria. True, large liners could not ascend the James or the Appomattox, but smaller vessels could continue to take the produce of the state to New York, there to be transhipped. A great port in Virginia was a desirable thing, no doubt, but not if it could be had only at the cost of ruining the river towns. And since the “central interest” was powerful enough to swing the legislature, in this. matter they had their way. “We were among the first to enter upon a system of improvement with a view to develop our great and varied resources,” said the Norfolk Argus some years later, “but our efforts were misdirected and our means so misapplied that we were among the last to accomplish any great practical result. . . . The mistake was in locating the termini of the railways at the head of our rivers instead of at a sea¬ port. . . . Other states and nations have pursued a course the reverse of ours, and hence their success. They commenced near the sea and projected their lines of railway into the interior. . . . Look at New York, Pennsylvania, Maryland, North Carolina, Georgia, and Ala¬ bama, who followed this wise policy, and see the happy fruits. . . . Virginia owns a noble seaport . . . but this she long neglected, and until lately absolutely ignored. . . . Near $30,000,000 have been lavished on inland cities, with no great and general result . . . be¬ cause the seaport was cut off from all connection with the producing sections of the State. . . . The idea of converging our improvements on the glorious Appomattox or the upper James at the falls, 150 miles from the ocean, is a farce. . . . The seat of power is along the central line, and aspirants from all other quarters of the State pander to that interest.” 33 , One of the most important results of this unwise policy was the di¬ version of traffic from Virginia to the seaport of another state. The Baltimore and Ohio was slowly, but steadily, advancing towards the Ohio. In 1836 the line entered Harpers Ferry, and connecting there with the Winchester and Potomac, began drawing off the produce of the Shenandoah to the Baltimore market. This was bad enough, but when a request followed to extend the Baltimore and Ohio up the valley and thence to the Ohio by way of the Kanawha, Richmond was alarmed. “Baltimore is spreading her arm around us,” pointed out the Richmond Times, “and is not only endeavoring to secure the trade of the west by obtaining an avenue through our territory, which 33 Norfolk Argus, March 14, 1856; July 9, 1858. The Fall Line Blockade 177 she flatters herself she will be able to secure through our sectional jealousies and our want of enterprise, but is taking from us even the trade which we have hitherto enjoyed. A large portion of the trade of the Valley of Virginia, which formerly came to Richmond, now goes to Baltimore upon the macadamized road down the valley.” 34 Not I only did the legislature reject the request, but in the session of 1844-45 refused to accede to petitions from the western part of the state, asking that the Baltimore and Ohio be permitted to extend its line to the Ohio at Parkersburg. They would concede nothing except the privilege of skirting the upper Potomac to Wheeling, thus leaving practically all western Virginia free for the day when the James River and Kanawha would reach out to the Ohio. 35 The people of the west were bitterly angered at this decision. A convention, with delegates from thirteen counties, met at Clarksburg to protest to the legislature. They had looked to the proposed ex¬ tension into their territory as a means to market their grain and their coal, they said, so that a vast country, now almost a wilderness, would become populous and wealthy. They had been taxed heavily for canals and railways in other parts of the state; to discriminate against their region was unjust and tyrannical. “We deny that any line of improvement is entitled to exclusive privileges to the injury of others, or that the northwest must be deprived of an outlet to its natural market, because it might abridge the trade of the James River and Kanawha Company. We are determined that our claims shall not be treated as though we were a mere colonial dependency, and in future will vote against all appropriations for railways and canals in other parts of the State until our rights have been recog¬ nized.” 36 Apparently this threat broke the opposition. In February, 1851, the state incorporated the Northwestern Virginia Railway, to run from Parkersburg to a point on the Baltimore and Ohio near Clarksburg. Almost at once the new line came under the direct control of the Baltimore and Ohio. Work was begun in 1852, pushed on vigorously in the face of great physical difficulties, and completed in 1857. Thus it was that Baltimore assumed the position to which Norfolk rightly aspired, as the seaport, not only of the Shenandoah valley, but of northwestern Virginia. A fourth of a century had passed since the 34 Niles’ National Register, June 21, 1845, p. 255. 35 Dunaway, History of the James River and Kanawha Co., pp. 189-190; Edward Hungerford, The Baltimore ir Ohio Railroad (New York, 1928), pp. 148-200. 36 Niles’ National Register, June 21, 1845. 178 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port legislature at Richmond committed the state to the James River line of improvement, ample time certainly in which to carry out the most comprehensive scheme. Yet the w r est still remained isolated from central and eastern Virginia, for the canal ran only to Buchanan, about forty miles west of Lynchburg, and the Virginia Central termi¬ nated at the foot of the Alleghenies. The act incorporating the James River and Kanawha Company stipulated that its lower termination at Richmond should be con¬ nected wdth tidewater, “so as to enable the boats ... to descend the river or return.” 37 If the people of Norfolk entertained a hope that this meant that they were to share at once in the benefits of the canal, they were doomed to disappointment. Sixteen years passed and noth¬ ing w r as done. As the Argus complained, the canal had one end stopped by a mountain and the other rested on a hill—cut off from tidewater except by a costly transit in drays and w^agons. In 1847 the legislature instructed the company to make the connection, 38 and in 1851 the work was well under w'ay. 39 Despite many delays, calling forth sarcastic comment from the Norfolk papers, this really formid¬ able undertaking was completed in 1854. It consisted of a series of locks and basins extending from the canal for one mile to a ship dock, and a ship canal from the dock to the river at Rocketts. The whole cost was $85i,3i2. 4u Even now Norfolk benefited but slightly, for the products of the upper river were transferred at the dock directly to packets bound for New York, Boston, and Baltimore. Until Norfolk regained its foreign trade, or until coasting vessels became too large to navigate the James River to Rocketts, Richmond would remain the chief point of transhipment. 41 Blocked from all connection wdth the canals and railways of Vir¬ ginia, Norfolk once more looked to North Carolina as her only salva¬ tion. The railroad to Weldon must be rebuilt and linked with the new line now under construction from Raleigh to Gaston. Who knew but that Norfolk would become the chief port of northern and west¬ ern Carolina, just as Baltimore was the chief port of northern and western Virginia. There were actually some suggestions of annexa¬ tion. “I am for hitching teams with the old North State,” said a cor¬ respondent in the Argus, “for it has long been my notion that Vir- 37 Dunaway, History of the James River and Kanawha Co., pp. 98, 99. 38 Norfolk Beacon, March 22, 1847. 39 Norfolk Argus, March 21, 1851. 40 Dunaway, History of the James River and Kanawha Co., p. 164. 41 Ibid., p. 165. The Fall Line Blockade 179 ginia cares little for Norfolk. We cannot be worse off, and we may be better. Huzza for North Carolina and annexation.” 42 The editor of the Argus commented on this seriously. Pointing out that Norfolk was the natural outlet for a large part of North Carolina, he suggested that the town apply to the Virginia legislature for permission to secede. This petition they would base upon the ill-treatment and neglect of the Old Dominion, the good treatment expected of North Carolina, and finally, on the fact that nature evidently intended it should be so. 43 Although this threat, for so it obviously was, seems to have been ignored, the restoration of the old Portsmouth-Weldon railway soon was an accomplished fact. Hershaw and Company, a Boston firm, bought the property, new charters were secured from Virginia and North Carolina, and reconstruction began under the name of Seaboard and Roanoke Railway. At this juncture the entire situation was changed by a bitter quar¬ rel between the old enemies of the Portsmouth line. Formerly two separate groupings had competed for the north and south traffic— the Richmond, Fredericksburg and Potomac, the Richmond and Petersburg, and the Petersburg and Roanoke on the one hand, and the Baltimore Steam Packet Company to Norfolk, and the Ports¬ mouth and Weldon on the other. In each case through tickets at low rates were issued. After the collapse of the Portsmouth line, passen¬ gers from the Baltimore steamers for the south ran up the James in river boats to City Point, where they transferred to the Petersburg and Roanoke. This company, now the southern link of both com¬ peting routes, refused to renew its agreement with the Richmond and Petersburg and the R. F. 8c P., and assumed a neutral position. ‘‘If our Company combined with the railroads north of us,” stated President H. D. Bird, “and thus threw our influence against the Bay company, the inevitable result would be to excite that company against us, and drive them to use their influence in favor of reviving the Portsmouth railway.” 44 The result was by no means what Mr. Bird expected. In September, 1846, the Richmond and Petersburg railway, with the co-operation of the R. F. 8c P., organized a subsidiary company to run steamships from Walthall, on the James River, to Norfolk. This, it was thought, would force the Bay line boats off the river and break up their 42 Norfolk Argus, April, 1849. 43 Ibid., May 10, 1849. 44 Virginia Board of Public Works, Report (Thirty-third), p. 676. 180 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port through system from Baltimore. This move was followed by the pur¬ chase of a controlling interest in the Baltimore Steam Packet Com¬ pany, by the stockholders of the R. F. 8c P. The Baltimore Steam Packet Company as a corporation then purchased a controlling inter¬ est in the Seaboard 8c Roanoke, and the two systems, formerly such bitter rivals, fell under one control. The effect upon Norfolk was unfortunate. It now became the policy of the combination to divert traffic over the R. F. 8c P., while the close union of the Seaboard and the Bay line made it to the interest of both to encourage the long haul rather than local traffic. So far as circumstances permitted, they made Portsmouth no more than a place of transfer for goods from North Carolina to Baltimore. So late as February, 1871, the Journal charged that the Seaboard was an incubus to Norfolk, whose chief object was to enrich other cities at her expense. 45 This was no doubt an exaggeration, for the railway played an important role in the development of Norfolk, but the benefits would have been far greater had the line been controlled by Norfolk men, shaping its policies in conformity to the interests of the city. However, the people rejoiced as the work of construction was rushed to completion. The old wooden rails which had caused so much trouble were replaced with the latest T rails, imported from Wales. 46 Progress was facilitated by the fact that the old roadbed could be utilized, and by November, 1851, trains were running from Portsmouth to Weldon. Very different were both locomotives and cars from those used on the Portsmouth and Weldon, and when the town councils of Norfolk and Portsmouth traveled over the line as guests of the company, they were amazed at the smoothness and speed with which the train moved. 47 The farmers along the route now began flocking into town with their bacon, cotton, peas, and corn. One, from Halifax county, had not seen Norfolk since the collapse of the old line. “In those days the trains made eight miles an hour, and we all were in danger of our lives from the ‘snake heads’ in the track,” he said. “Now one can go 30 miles an hour in the parlor-like cars, in perfect safety.” 48 At Weldon the Seaboard connected again with the Wilmington railway, and through north and south passenger traffic was renewed. But it was upon the west that Norfolk had her eyes. A railway from 45 Norfolk Journal, Feb. 4, 16, 1871. 46 Norfolk Argus, Tune q, Dec. 7, 184Q. 47 Ibid., Nov. 27, 1851. 48 Ibid., Nov. 29, 1851. The Fall Line Blockade 181 Raleigh to Gaston was nearing completion, and Gaston was but twelve miles from the Seaboard terminus at Weldon. So the Gaston- Weldon Company was formed to bridge the gap. It proved a difficult bit of engineering to cut through the rocks on the south bank of the Roanoke, but the work was completed in 1853, and in August of that year the first train passed amid the cheers of the workmen. 49 A few days later two trains arrived at Portsmouth from Raleigh, crowded with North Carolinians, bent on celebrating the completion of the link. Among the guests were former President Tyler and Governor Reid of North Carolina, and there was much feasting and toasting and words of friendship between North Carolina and Virginia. 50 In the meanwhile, work was progressing upon the Roanoke Valley Rail¬ way, from Ridgeway, on the Raleigh and Gaston, to Clarksville, on the upper Roanoke River. This branch line was expected to drain not only Granville County in North Carolina and Mecklenburg County in Virginia, but the valleys of the Staunton and the Dan as well. The Seaboard proved successful from the first. Long freight trains were constantly pulling into the Portsmouth station, laden with staves, lumber, tobacco, flour, naval stores, and cotton. “Well may the editor of the Petersburg Intelligencer be alarmed at the diversion af travel, and at our superior facilities for trade and business,” boasted the Beacon. “We would advise him to keep cool, and if that be impossible, at his domicile at this time, he had best come to the seaboard, bathe in its briny waters, and cast off all visions of an inland seaport on the banks of the mighty Appomattox.” 51 Norfolk seemed to awaken as from a long sleep under the influence of the new trade. 52 Dn one day alone seven carloads of staves came in for Reid and Soulter, two hundred and sixty-four barrels of rosin and one car of lour for Josiah Wills, three cars of staves and nine barrels of turpen- :ine for K. Biggs, ten bales of cotton for William Reid, eighteen bar- els of turpentine for J. B. Odum. 53 In the year ending January 31, 1855, the receipts of the Seaboard were $201,893.61; the next year, ncluding the months of the yellow fever epidemic, they were $173,- 723.58, 54 for the following year $203,666.08, 55 for the year ending 49 Norfolk Beacon, April 19, 1853. I 50 Ibid., April 22, 1853. 51 Ibid., June 27, 1853. 52 Norfolk Argus, Oct. 22, 1853. 53 Ibid., April 28, 1854. 54 Ibid., May 29, 1856. 55 Ibid., April 17, 1857. 182 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port January 30, 1860, $240,546.50. 56 At first goods from North Carolina were piled up on the streets of Portsmouth, hauled in drays to the water’s edge, and brought to Norfolk in small boats. Later a railway ferry boat was constructed on which the loaded cars were taken across the river so that they would be unloaded on the Norfolk side. 57 Cars were hauled in and out of the boat at any state of the tide by a pony engine placed under the deck. 58 Although this was like food to a starving man, the railway situation as a whole remained essentially unfavorable to Norfolk. Her one line had to compete with the Petersburg and Roanoke for the Carolina trade, while the Richmond and Danville was reaching its arm out to the upper Roanoke to divert the traffic of that region to the James. The Southside Railway, which, with the Virginia and Tennessee, drained southwest Virginia, had its terminus at Petersburg. All cen¬ tral Virginia was tributary to Richmond, parts of the Valley and all northwestern Virginia to Baltimore, and Norfolk was completely cut off from the railway system of the state to which it belonged. In 1851 the city made a determined effort to secure a railway tc Petersburg. This would link her with the Southside Railway, which connected with the Virginia and Tennessee at Lynchburg, which, ir turn, was linked up at Bristol with the railway system of Tennessee As talk of the new line grew more definite, the Norfolk merchant* began to dream of long through freight trains, bringing to then wharves the grain of the Cumberland Valley and the cotton of the Mississippi. The charter for the Norfolk and Petersburg railway wa: secured with comparative ease, but it was another matter to get the legislature to give financial support. 59 The Petersburg interest op posed violently, because they wished their own town to remain the terminus of the group of railways; the Richmond interest because traffic from the southwest might be drawn off at Lynchburg from thei: canal. Although in February, 1852, the Committee on Internal Im provements of the House of Delegates recommended appropriation of about three millions to aid various state lines, including $1,705,001 for the James River and Kanawha Canal, the appeals of the Nor folk and Petersburg were ignored. 60 “In all this great program,” sail the Argus bitterly, “which is destined, probably, to cover the lani 56 Ibid., March 26, i860. 57 Ibid,, April 26, 1854. 58 Burton, The History of Norfolk, p. 10. 59 Lamb, Our Twin Cities, p. 26. 60 Norfolk Argus, Feb. 13, 1852. The Fall Line Blockade 183 with wonders and its inhabitants with rags, the only seaport town in the State is not once mentioned, nor a single dollar appropriated from the common treasury towards the advancement of her pros¬ perity. . . . We do not hesitate to express the hope that our repre¬ sentatives in that body will return home, and our people take prompt and decided steps to release themselves from bondage by annexing the city, come what may, to North Carolina. . . . To this the alterna¬ tive will be to submit to galling, degrading, and hopeless oppression, or to take refuge in revolution.” 61 Fortunately a few days later the committee supplemented its report with the suggestion that the state subscribe $480,000 to the stock of the Norfolk and Petersburg, and excitement in Norfolk died down. 62 The Norfolk councils then sub¬ scribed $200,000, on condition that there be ‘‘a satisfactory connec¬ tion with the Southside Railway at or near its terminus in Peters¬ burg.” 63 The road had already been partly surveyed, and the work was now pushed forward under the able direction of William Mahone. 64 Begin¬ ning in Norfolk at the east end of Main Street, the tracks made a wide circle over the Eastern and Southern branches, and cut through the Dismal Swamp to Suffolk, whence they swung northwest in almost a straight line to Petersburg. Mahone did the railroad and Norfolk a great service by insisting that the roadbed, the bridges, the rails, and the rolling stock be of the latest and most substantial type, that the grades be easy, the ditching deep, the curves few. 65 Much had been learned about railway construction since the days of the Portsmouth and Weldon, and the new line profited fully from the mistakes of the aid. In July, 1858, trains were running, and a few weeks later all Norfolk was thrilled by the arrival of several carloads of fruit and four from Lynchburg. 66 The transferring of goods from freight cars :o the wharves was made easy by the laying down of track along Water Street from the station to Town Point. 67 In the meanwhile Norfolk, for the moment forgetting her many defeats at the hands of the central interests, asked for permission to extend the Norfolk and Petersburg to Charlottesville. This would 61 Ibid.., Feb. 11, 1852. 62 Ibid., Feb. 19, 1852; May 14, 1857. 63 Burton, The History of Norfolk, p. 13. 64 Ibid., p. 15. 65 Norfolk Beacon, April 5, 1855. 66 Norfolk Argus, July 1, 1858. 67 The track still remained in 1961 and standing freight cars often blocked the treet, rendering vehicular traffic difficult. 184 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port give a connection with the Virginia Central, and divert western traffic from Richmond to Norfolk. The bill met a stone wall in the Senate and the project had to be abandoned. Once more all Norfolk shook with indignation. “I know not whether North Carolina will receive us, but it may be worth while to make the experiment,” said the Argus. “Since grave Senators have publicly declared that ... we are of no use to the State, our neighbors may perchance think our port not worthy of acceptance. The Old North State has appro¬ priated nearly as much to works looking to Norfolk as Virginia herself, our principal trade is with her farmers, and a large number of our best citizens are natives of her soil. The United States ceded Alexandria to Virginia, why not Virginia cede Norfolk to North Carolina?” 68 Richmond had four railways, the editor pointed out, terminating near her limits. “No one connects with the other, and never will. She may well be called the railway rat-trap of the State. The policy deserves no other name. It is conceived in folly, hedged in by jealousy and selfishness.” 69 A few days later an indignation meeting was held in Ashland Hall, presided over by Mr. Charles Reid. It was resolved that “the Senate of Virginia in refusing to Norfolk the privilege of connecting with the works which are now constructing on State account on the Cen tral line (including the tunnel 70 and the Covington road) towards the construction of which Norfolk and the eastern counties are heavil) taxed, . . . have perpetrated an act of tyranny worthy of the darl ages of mail-clad despotism. . . . Since we are to be taxed without participation, since such tribute is demanded of us as we cannot honorably pay, we ask that the ruling power of the land make u: outcasts rather than slaves, by ceding us to North Carolina. We regarc our representation in the Senate and the House of Delegates as men mockery, and we therefore request that our Senator and Delegate wil vacate their seats.” 71 The Norfolk and Petersburg had not had time to build up a paying traffic before the advent of the Civil War. The tonnage carried ir i860 was only 7,502, as compared with 32,660 by the Seaboard. Ye the southwestern connection had been secured, and time alone wa needed for this line, with the Southside, and the Virginia and Ten 68 Norfolk Argus, March 13, 1856. 69 Ibid., March 14, 1856. 70 This was the great tunnel through the Blue Ridge at Rock Fish Gap. It was : work of great expense, and constituted a vital link in the east and west traffic. 71 Norfolk Argus, March 18, 1856. The Fall Line Blockade 185 nessee, to form a great artery of trade. The Norfolk and Western, into which these lines were eventually merged, was one day to accomplish wonders for the development of the city. Still another important line of communication was opened for Norfolk in 1859, with the completion of the Albemarle and Chesa¬ peake canal. This project had been in contemplation for years. The Dismal Swamp canal was too small for steamers, and the farmers of northeastern Carolina were loud in their complaints. When at last the Carolina government began to consider plans for making a deep cut to the ocean through the sand bar at Nag’s Head, so that large vessels could have access to both Albemarle and Pamlico sounds, Norfolk became alarmed. So early as 1840 the noted engineer, Colonel Crozet, had surveyed a canal route from the Eastern Branch, near Kemps- ville, to the head of North River. Later, this route was abandoned for one from Great Bridge across the swamp to North River into Curri¬ tuck Sound, thence through another canal into Doctor’s Creek and Albemarle Sound. 72 Both cuts were to be fifty feet at the top, thirty feet at the bottom, and seven feet deep. There was to be but one lock, the largest in the United States, two hundred and twenty feet by forty feet wide, through which vessels of six hundred tons could pass. After the company had been incorporated and the stock subscribed the work of digging went on rapidly. Great advances had been made in engineering since the days when swarms of Negroes armed with spades had dug out the channel of the old canal. Now steam engines did most of the work. It was a popular recreation for the people of Norfolk to go down to Great Bridge to watch the machines pulling up stumps and digging up mud and depositing it on the bank, with iloud “coughings and gruntings.” 73 The Enterprise from Wilmington, Delaware, had the honor of being the first boat to pass through. On January 9, 1859, the company’s steamer Calypso, taking her in tow, entered the great lock and passed on south to Albemarle Sound. 74 The new canal opened a ready means of communication with the cotton lands of the Pamlico, the Neuse, and the Tar, and added greatly to the volume of trade. In 1867-68 over sixteen thousand bales came through. In 1878-80 the number had risen to 77,6o8. 75 The Albemarle and Chesapeake canal played an important role in 72 Forrest, Sketches of Norfolk, p. 261. 73 Norfolk Argus, April 20, 1857. 74 Burton, History of Norfolk, p. 31. 75 Jones, Norfolk as a Business Centre, p. 35. 186 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port strengthening Norfolk’s position as the chief port for northeastern Carolina. In the long and elusive quest for prosperity, Norfolk at last seemed to be on the road to success. With one railway giving direct communi¬ cation with central North Carolina, with another linking the city with southern Virginia and Tennessee, with a fine canal opening afresh the great Carolina sounds, it was thought that trade must in¬ crease rapidly. True, the city was still largely cut off from central and western Virginia, but the people were disposed to overlook this fact, now that the prospect was so bright for becoming an entrepot for the cotton, flour, corn, and lumber of the South. Little did they dream that disaster lay immediately ahead; that their harbor would soon be blockaded, their streets filled with hostile troops, the South of which they expected so much, devastated and exhausted. The period of internal improvements was for many states and cities marked by glorious success, by expanding trade, growing wealth, in¬ creasing population. For Virginia, and especially for Norfolk, it was a time of wasted opportunities and bitter disappointment. The proud Old Dominion, once the undisputed leader in the Union, saw one state after another pass her in all that makes for influence and power. And there were many to say that the fault was her own; that when other states were acting promptly and planning wisely to profit from railway communication, she was distracted with petty jealousies and local interests, and held back by shortsighted old fogies. Nor¬ folk, of course, laid the blame upon Richmond. Richmond, because of the suffrage law, controlled the elections of at least twelve counties, and so exercised an overwhelming influence in the legislature. Looked up to as the metropolis, the great social and commercial center of the state, her men of wealth connected by relationship or interest with the leaders of other sections, she partitioned out the honors of the government to those who would aid in her aggrandize¬ ment. “Such corrupt logrolling was hardly ever seen in any other I legislature in the United States, the whole system enduring to the ad-! vancement of Richmond, and a few other favored points. Even the Panhandle could obtain privileges to which no citizen of Norfolk would dare aspire.” 76 Whether or not these charges be true, it is certain that Virginia’s policy of internal improvements was shortsighted, wasteful, expen¬ sive, ineffectual. And the penalty was swift and terrible. In the Civil 76 Norfolk Journal, Feb. 18, 1867. The Fall Line Blockade 187 War Virginia needed warships to break the blockade and protect her commerce, but the discrimination against her one natural port made the creation of a navy most difficult; she needed the support of all sections of the state, but the isolation of the western counties left them no alternative save separation; she needed a network of modern rail¬ ways to move and supply her troops, but her mileage was compara¬ tively low, her lines improperly located; she needed all her sons to fight her battles, but tens of thousands of young Virginians had gone west to seek new opportunities and build new homes. CHAPTER NINE Pestilence and War Like other seaports, Norfolk in former days was constantly exposed to epidemics of smallpox and yellow fever. Whenever a vessel came in from the West Indies, from Cadiz, or even from England, there was the possibility that it might spread wholesale death. Little was known of the causes of these epidemics, so that preventive meas¬ ures were misdirected. It was thought that they resulted from damp cellars, or from the proximity of marshes, or from insanitary and crowded conditions of living, or from the presence of pigpens in town, or from the pumping of bilge water near the wharves. In cases of smallpox the quarantining of patients did much to protect the community, but nothing save the approach of cold weather could stem the sweep of yellow fever. From time to time the borough government, or the medical frater¬ nity, made efforts to secure a general inoculation for smallpox. In 1 795 , when a seaman from the schooner Antelope started an epi¬ demic, the council set aside a sum of money for this purpose. 1 But there was so much danger attached to inoculating, even with the mildest form of real smallpox, that the public resisted strenuously. It was only in 1802, four years after Edward Jenner made his first test with cowpox, that smallpox vaccine was brought to Norfolk from Europe. On March 2 Doctors Balfour and Ward inserted a notice in the Herald “informing the public that they have now under inocula¬ tion several persons with the true kine-pox, the matter certainly genuine.” Still the people hesitated. “What was cowpox but smallpox under a different name?” it was asked. “Who could say how fatal it might be! True the doctors claimed that the matter had been tested, but doctors were often mistaken.” Many persons refused to be inocu- 1 Norfolk Council Orders, 1736-1798, pp. 173b, 175, 175b. Pestilence and War i8g lated, and some even objected to having this “artificial disease” spread in the community. Nonetheless, in the spring of 1802, inoculation proceeded, with excellent results. “We have succeeded after so many unsuccessful trials, in introducing into this town the mild antidote to smallpox,” stated the doctors. “So many attempts had been made before, without success, that even medical men declared they did not believe the disease (cowpox) could be brought here. It will no doubt take some time to remove the obstinate prejudice of the public; but like all great truths, it ultimately must prevail, and surmount every obstacle ignorance can oppose. Eighteen have had the disease (cow- pox) in its mildest form, and numbers are under inoculation.” 2 But while medical science was conquering one of Norfolk’s greatest enemies, the other continued its occasional visits to the town, spread¬ ing always terror, suffering, and death. In 1795 yellow fever broke out in the crowded tenements in the narrow lanes near the river, and before it was checked by the frosts of October, had carried off no less than five hundred people. 3 At that time this district was swarming with strangers—mechanics, attracted by the high wages current in Norfolk; sailors, seeking a berth in a tobacco ship or a West India trader; small merchants from the rivers and creeks of tidewater Vir¬ ginia; North Carolinians, in port with a cargo of farm produce. These visitors proved easy victims to the scourge. Some fled at the first warning of danger, only to die miserably on the way or after reaching their homes; others were struck down before they could move. The borough authorities were helpless. The number of doctors was inadequate, it was difficult to secure nurses, impossible to isolate the patients, and whole families were wiped out, who, with proper care and food, might have been saved. 4 The doctors, groping for the causes of the epidemic, stated that “the air was evidently impregnated with putrid effluvia, arising from decayed substances of every sort, brought down upon the creeks and rivers—together with filth thrown from the shipping and docks.” 5 If they had only known the truth, what future terror and suffering Norfolk would have been spared! But more than a century was to elapse before a modest army surgeon, born in Virginia, not forty miles from Norfolk, made the discovery , which prepared the way for the conquest of this terrible scourge. 6 2 Norfolk Herald, April 13, 1802. 3 La Rochefoucauld, Voyages dans les £tats-Unis, IV, 257. 4 Letter of Doctors Taylor and Hansford. Miscellaneous Pamphlets, No. 685, Library of Congress. 3 Ibid. 6 Walter Reed. He was born in Gloucester County. 190 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port In 1802 yellow fever again visited Norfolk, claiming its victims by the hundreds. “We had the yellow fever raging very much among us this season,” wrote William Couper, a recent arrival from Scotland, “where it cut off many one every day. . . . But I have reason to thank my preserver for preserving me in the midst of 20 or 30 or 40 that died every day, for the matter of seven or eight weeks, and the country were no better. But all is well again, and hardly any com¬ plaints to be heard.” 7 For two decades Norfolk remained comparatively free from yellow fever. Then, on July 20, 1821, a vessel from Point Peter, Guadeloupe, arrived with a cargo of rum, sugar, and molasses, and tied up in the slip between Southgate’s wharf and Warren’s wharf. With her, ap¬ parently, came yellow fever. On August 1, a Mr. Price, clerk of the adjacent warehouse, became ill, and shortly after a Negro cook in a near-by house contracted the disease. Both men died. Other cases followed rapidly, and once more Norfolk knew the terror of a yellow fever epidemic. The disease crept up Woodside’s Lane, a narrow alley crowded with persons of low character, many of them weakened by “intemperance and debauchery,” whence it spread to Little Water, now Upton Street. In a few weeks it had extended over the entire area south of Main Street from Market Square to Town Point. Fortu¬ nately, the epidemic seemed to be held within these bounds by some invisible quarantine, and it was stated “that persons living in that district had just to remove to the north of Main Street, and they were as safe from the fever as they would have been a thousand miles off.” 8 As in 1795, there was a wholesale exodus at the first approach of the epidemic, and this undoubtedly saved hundreds of lives. Unfortu¬ nately, some of the fugitives were imprudent enough to return early in October, before the first frost, and of these some contracted the disease and died. In all there were about one hundred and sixty deaths. An unusual feature of the epidemic was the fact that the Negroes, who were thought to be almost immune, suffered as heavily as the whites. Of the whites who died, the larger part were recent Irish immigrants and Northern visitors. 9 The borough authorities were greatly puzzled by this epidemic. It had been stated repeatedly that yellow fever resulted from filth and refuse; yet in 1821 Norfolk was far cleaner, far better drained, than in 7 Letters of William Couper, October 11, 1802. 8 George D. Armstrong, History of Yellow Fever in Norfolk (Philadelphia, 1856), p. 23. 9 Report of Dr. Robert Archer, Norfolk Herald, March 1, 1822. Pestilence and War former years. “Our police have been improved/’ it was pointed out, “most of our streets and alleys, particularly in that district, have been paved.” The health officer traced the origin of the epidemic to the dock near Woodside’s Lane, but when he gave his theory as to how the disease was carried from the merchantman to near-by residents, he was wide of the mark. It was observed, he said, that the crew pumped out on the dock a stream of bilge water, so offensive that the doors and windows in the houses near-by had to be closed. It was this foul air, he believed, that infected Price and other early victims. 10 The next spring Norfolk bestirred itself to prevent a return of the terrible visitor. Shallow, stagnant slips were filled up, unsanitary houses pulled down, the street drains kept open. The quarantine against infected ports was strictly enforced, although many thought that “the theory of importation of the disease was a chimera.” 11 Fortu¬ nately, there was no recurrence of the fever. Four years later, how¬ ever, it became known late in September that yellow fever had made its appearance in Norfolk, as on former occasions, in the district south of Main. In two days almost every family on Main Street from the Virginia Bank to Town Point had fled. This prompt action, to¬ gether with the short time left before frost, made the mortality comparatively light. Yet twenty-seven persons had succumbed by September 30. 12 As to how many more perished before the end of October, the Norfolk papers are silent. After this, twenty-nine years passed in which Norfolk was practi¬ cally free of yellow fever. An entire generation had grown up since the epidemics of 1821 and 1826 caused such widespread terror, and only a few old persons could remember the harvest of death in 1795. People began to think that the paving and draining of the streets and the widespread use of cisterns for drinking water had rendered the town immune to yellow fever. Then, on June 7, 1855, the steamer Ben Franklin, bound from St. Thomas to New York, put into Hamp¬ ton Roads in distress, with yellow fever on board. It was imperative that the steamer be repaired, and upon giving assurances that his crew were all in good health, the captain, on June 19, was permitted to take her to Page and Allen’s shipyard, at Gosport. A few days later a laborer employed in “breaking up her hold,” contracted yellow fever, and, on July 8, died. The steamer was at once put in quaran- 10 Ibid. 11 Norfolk Herald, July 22, 1822. 12 Ibid., Sept. 22, Oct. 2, 1826. 192 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port tine, but Pandora’s box had been opened, and the furies let loose over Portsmouth and Norfolk. The first cases occurred in a row of buildings near the Navy Yard, “small, sadly out of repair, overcrowded with inhabitants, and filthy in the extreme.” The authorities built a fence around this district, apparently after all of the residents had been removed, and for a time it was fondly hoped that this would localize the disease. A tremor of apprehension went over Portsmouth, then, when it became known a few days later that cases had been reported in various parts of the town. In Norfolk the people were still hopeful. The Elizabeth was broad and deep; would it not interpose an impassable barrier to the progress of the epidemic? Unfortunately the Norfolk authorities had permitted a number of poor families from Gosport, presumably per¬ sons forced to leave the “infected houses,” to move to Barry’s Row, a tenement district south of Main Street, and on July 30, yellow fever made its appearance there. Thereupon, the Board of Health had all the families, “well and sick,” removed, and boarded up the streets in the vicinity. The patients were taken to an improvised hospital at Oak Grove, but so fixed was the idea that the disease was spread, not from person to person, but by contact with infected houses or decay¬ ing matter, that the well, it seems, were permitted to go at large. When it was reported a few days later that certain poor families were moving into Barry’s Row in defiance of the Board of Health, someone set fire to the buildings, and, while eight thousand persons looked on, they burned to the ground. As new cases began to appear in various parts of the city, terror seized the people. Every head of a family had to decide whether to leave his business engagements and flee, or to remain, facing the danger of death for himself, his wife, and children. Thousands chose the former alternative, and every train which left Portsmouth, every steamer for Baltimore or Richmond, were crowded with fugitives. Then came the announcement that other cities had declared a quar¬ antine against the stricken towns—first New York, then Suffolk, Rich¬ mond, Petersburg, Weldon, Hampton, Washington, Baltimore. The question now was where to go. Must all remain “to grapple with the pestilence, no matter how deadly it might become?” Fortunately, Mathews County and the Eastern Shore threw open their doors. Henry A. Wise, governor-elect of Virginia, not only took some of the fugitives in his residence, but equipped his outhouses so as to accom¬ modate as many of the poor as possible. By August 11, it was estimated, Pestilence and War 193 one-half of the people of Norfolk had left. The ministers, doctors, undertakers and nurses, however, almost without exception, remained. “The physician and the Christian pastor are, by their profession, called to minister to the sick, the dying, and the afflicted,” wrote the Reverend George D. Armstrong, “and certainly, a time of pestilence, when their services are most needed, is no time for them to flee.” 13 August 14 was set aside as a day of humiliation and prayer, but the fever continued to spread. The district south of Main Street was al¬ most entirely deserted, the post office being removed to the Academy building, and the merchants transacting business from their residences. But the disease passed north of Main, appearing first in one district, then in another, until almost every part of the town was infected. The doctors and nurses were entirely insufficient in numbers and persons began to die for want of care. One family, who kept a boardinghouse, became so terrified that they fled from town, leaving a lodger, an Irish¬ man, named Stapleton, ill in an upper room. When the poor man found himself deserted, he staggered downstairs and up the street to Dr. Constable’s office. There his strength gave out, and he fell dead on the door-stoop. 14 Fortunately noble persons came from other cities— physicians, nurses, and druggists—to risk their lives in the cause of humanity. The first to arrive was Miss Annie M. Andrews, of Syracuse, New York, who offered her services to Mayor Hunter Woodis as a nurse. Others came from Richmond, New York, Philadelphia, Balti¬ more, Savannah, Charleston, and even far off Mobile and New Or¬ leans. Many of these men and women met the martyr’s death, no less than thirteen from Philadelphia alone succumbing to the pestilence they came to combat. 15 Before the end of August the city had become a great hospital. Many patients had been taken to the buildings at Lamberts Point, and others to the City Hotel, but neither sufficed to hold the multitude of sick. Dr. Armstrong gives a heart-rending account of the scenes he en¬ countered in his pastoral rounds. In one house, from which a widowed mother and two of her children had just been buried, three other children were ill; in another were two families, all stricken with the fever; at the home of Mr. S. the eldest daughter had had the “black vomit,” and was upon the point of death; at a near-by home a captain 13 Ibid., Jan. 31, 1856; Armstrong, History of Yellow Fever in Norfolk, pp. 28, 29, 37 - 38 . 39 - 40 . 4 >- 14 Armstrong, History of Yellow Fever in Norfolk, pp. 44, 45. 15 Burton, History of Norfolk, pp. 22, 23, 31; W. S. Forrest, Great Pestilence in Virginia (New York and Philadelphia, 1856), p. 53. ig4 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port of the marines, his wife, her sister, and one child were dead. “We have burials, but no funerals now,” he wrote, on September 6. “It is the mother we are to bury; and the daughter is now so extremely ill that we dare not let her know that her mother lies dead in the very next room. . . . Enough are present to carry the coffin to the hearse; and ... we drive off ... at a rapid pace. The principal grave¬ digger opens the cemetery gate; but instead of simply pointing us to the grave ... he asks us in very much the style of the challenge given by a sentry on guard, ‘who’s this?’ . . . Arrived at the lot belonging to the family, we find no grave dug there as yet. . . . The hearse can¬ not wait; the carriages cannot wait; all we can do is to deposit the coffin where the grave is to be dug, and, offering a short prayer, there leave it.” The deaths now mounted to seventy, eighty, or even a hundred a day. On one of his visits to the cemetery, Dr. Armstrong asked how many graves had been ordered for the day. The reply was forty-three. Passing on to the potter’s field he saw large numbers of coffins and rough boxes, “piled up like cord wood” as high as a man could reach, while close by laborers were at work on a pit in which to bury them. In addition there were a number of interments in the Catholic ceme¬ tery. Since this was before five in the evening, and since for days past the burials had continued until nine or ten at night, it seemed certain that more than a hundred were buried that day. At one time the supply of coffins gave out, and the bodies had to be interred in boxes, in one instance four to a box. Others were tied up in the blankets in which they died, and carried out to the potter’s field, in furniture-wagons, carts, or drays, there to be buried layer upon layer in pits. 16 Not only the streets of Norfolk, but the harbor as well, reflected the desolation of the city. "As we look out along the water-front we see that wharves and warehouses, with the names of occupants painted in large letters upon their fronts, all appear as usual, saving that their doors and windows are closed, and there is no living thing to be seen about them. The names painted there will, many of them, if they are to give true directions, soon have to be blotted out, and graven, instead, upon the sign-stones in the ‘city of the dead.’ But look along the wharves, where at every season of the year there are many vessels lying, and in the winter and early spring they often line the wharf-heads five or six deep. There is now not one single vessel to be seen afloat, from the draw-bridge to Town Point. There are the two slender masts of a 16 Forrest, Great Pestilence in Virginia, pp. 94-97. Pestilence and War 195 : fishing-smack sunken in the county dock; and here, in this shipyard, ; there is a vessel drawn up as if for repairs; but there is no shipwright ! at work upon her. . . . The only boat which enters our harbor now is the little steamer, J. E. Coffee, run to meet the boats from Baltimore and Richmond in Hampton Roads. By her our mails are carried, and all our commerce done. Yesterday she came in with her whole deck piled with empty coffins; and coffins for the dead are one main article of import now. . . . Poor desolate Norfolk! The coming of a ship into her harbor today would cause almost as much surprise ... as the coming of the first ship ... to the Indians, who then dwelt here. The sun shines as brightly, and the sea-breeze seems as balmy, as at other times; and yet this, one of the finest harbors on the Atlantic seaboard, the unseen pestilence has made to be shunned by the mariner more than if it were full of quicksands and sunken rocks.” 17 All through that terrible September and until late in October the fever raged. In Bermuda Street every house had its sick or its dead, while the district north of Back Creek, where dwelt the wealthy and aristocratic, was swept from one end to the other. ‘‘It was then that some were appalled and chilled with fright, while others were ap¬ parently callous, careless and reckless, and went about the work of boxing and removing the dead, with but little appearance of fear or agitation.” It was felt by all that it was too late to flee, that “the venom had entered the blood,” and they could resist it as well in Norfolk as elsewhere. “The city was wrapped in gloom. All the stores, and the dwellings of the absentees, were closed; few were seen passing in the streets on foot, and these on some errand of mercy or necessity. . . . Most of the inhabitants present were either confined at home by sickness, or in attendance on the sick. . . . And though there was the perpetual din of carriages, continually passing, from early dawn till a late hour of the night—the physicians’ carriages, the hacks conveying nurses and members of the Howard Association, and the hearses, and the ever- moving ‘sick-wagon’—rattling and rumbling to and fro in every direc¬ tion—there was no sign of wholesome animation.” 18 Finally, when the coming of frost put an end to the pestilence, Norfolk lay suffering, stunned, still unable to grasp the full meaning of the fearful calamity. Of those who remained through those terrible ninety days, “every man, woman, and child, almost without exception, 17 Ibid,., pp. 101-104. 18 Ibid., p. 87. 196 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port had been stricken with the fell fever, and about 2,000 had been bur¬ ied.” Two-thirds of the whites, and one-third of the whites and blacks together had succumbed to the disease. 19 Among the dead were some of Norfolk’s leading citizens: Mayor Hunter Woodis; John G. H. Hatton, president of the Select Council; Alexander Feret, of the Exchange Bank; William D. Roberts, delegate- elect to the legislature; Bray B. Walters, proprietor of the National Hotel; Josiah Wills, merchant and banker; former Mayor W. D. De- lany; Alexander Galt, postmaster; William Reid, ship broker; Caleb Bonsai, miller; John D. Gordan, banker. The mortality among phy¬ sicians was very severe, including ten local doctors 20 and twenty-six out of forty-live who came from other places. Of the eight ministers who were in town during the epidemic, all became ill and four died. 21 On November 11 Dr. Armstrong, who had contracted the fever but recovered, held services for the first time since the pestilence. ‘‘In all the congregation ... I noticed but three families that were not clad in mourning. And in every part of the house there were vacant seats which, as the eye rested on them, called up to memory the forms of those accustomed to occupy them. ... In one part of the church sat the orphans, now gathered under the protecting care of the Howard Association. There they sat, some sixty in number, ranging from four¬ teen to two and three years in age, all made parentless by the terrible pestilence. Some of them when found, were in the house alone with the dead body of their remaining parent; and they, poor little things, so young that they did not know their own names. . . . Through the assistance sent us from abroad, in connection with what we can do at home, I hope we . . . can provide comfortably for them all.” 22 Dr. Armstrong, in seeking to solve the mystery of the rapid spread of the yellow fever in the city, made some exceedingly interesting observations. He dared to express the opinion that the disease was not contagious. “I was for more than six weeks almost constantly during the day among the sick, the dying, and the dead; . . . yet I did not take the fever until as an epidemic it reached the part of the city in which I lived. . . . Those who resided in the adjoining country, and came into the city during the day only, in no instance that I have heard of took the fever. ... So with the country-people who attended 19 Burton, History of Norfolk, p. 23. 20 R. W. Sylvester, T. F. Constable, G. I. Halson, R. J. Sylvester, F. L. Higgins, J. A. Briggs, Thomas Nash, G. L. Upshur, R. B. Tunstall, and Henry Selden. 21 Burton, History of Norfolk, pp. 23, 24. 22 Armstrong, History of Yellow Fever in Norfolk, pp. 158, 159. Pestilence and War 1 97 our markets; and there were some who attended throughout the sea¬ son. Not one of them, that I have heard of, died of the fever. . . . The disease . . . spread rapidly in the direction of the prevailing winds, and but slowly in a direction across the track of those winds. . . . If we map down the whole region over which the yellow fever prevailed and then draw a line in the direction of the prevailing winds, this line will be found to measure not much short of five miles; while a line drawn at right angles to this will not, at the widest point, measure more than one and a half miles. . . . Besides this, the liability to take the disease was found to be far greater by night than by day.” Had Dr. Armstrong drawn the proper conclusions from these remark¬ able observations, had it occurred to him that they pointed directly to the mosquito as the agent of transmission, he might have put the medical fraternity upon the right track a half century before the days of Reed. But his only inference was that “to pen up the inhabitants upon the infected ground is to aggravate the disease a thousand fold,” and that they should be permitted, even encouraged, to flee wherever they would. 23 While Norfolk was still staggering from this terrific blow, it was hurled headlong into the maelstrom of the Civil War. Although the people of the town resented so deeply the control of the state legisla¬ ture by the central group, although they had little in common with the planter aristocracy of the wheat and tobacco sections, in the long- drawn-out struggle for national supremacy between North and South, their hearts were entirely with their own section. While admitting the economic and social evils of slavery, they resented the attacks of the abolitionists, and defended the treatment of the Negroes. On July 31, 1835, the aldermen of the borough instructed the mayor to request the postmaster to withhold delivery of the Emancipator and other similar papers addressed to free Negroes or slaves. This they deemed neces¬ sary to prevent disobedience and dissatisfaction among the blacks. 24 A few weeks later a meeting of citizens at the courthouse, presided over by Mayor Miles King, passed resolutions denouncing the aboli¬ tion movement, demanding that Congress refrain from interfering with the slave trade, and calling for action by the states to protect slavery and to close the doors to abolition literature. 25 The general sentiment of the towm may be gathered from the dis- 23 Ibid., pp. 182-192. 24 Lower Norfolk County Antiquary , II, 11. 25 Norfolk Herald, Aug. 17, 1835. 198 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port cussion of slavery by W. S. Forrest, in his Sketches of Norfolk, pub¬ lished in 1853. “Our colored people, the slaves particularly, are gen¬ erally happy and contented. They are entirely free from those cares and troubles which necessarily grow out of the responsibilities and duties of life, that devolve on those upon whom they depend for support. . . . Very many of them seem as free as any beings on the face of the earth; having, generally, liberal, kind and indulgent owners, who allow them many privileges and who look anxiously to their welfare, providing for them comfortable lodging-rooms, sufficient clothing, and a full quantity of wholesome food. . . . Many of the slaves in this part of Virginia live an exceedingly easy life. They labor, it is true, in many cases well and faithfully; but they sleep soundly, eat heartily, sing cheerfully. . . . They are allowed, without constraint, to attend church several times on the Sabbath, and often on other days of the week.’’ As to Uncle Tom’s Cabin, the people of Norfolk re¬ garded it as the work of a well-meaning but deluded woman, an en¬ tirely false picture of slavery and life in general in the South. 26 Yet they were puzzled at the growing differences between the two great sections, and not a little concerned at the rapidity with which the South was being outdistanced in wealth and population. While King Cotton was fixing the plantation system and slavery more firmly on the South, the Northern states were turning to manufactures. From Boston to the Ohio factory towns had sprung up, and many a spot, formerly given over to corn or wheat, now resounded to the clash of machinery. The country became a dual nation, with two sections of contrasting economic systems, and so of conflicting interests. Since both were under the same Federal government, it was inevitable that there should be a struggle for the control of Congress and the presidency. In Norfolk, as in other parts of the South, alarm and despondency grew as the North gradually threw its wall of free territory around slavery and used its overwhelming majority in Congress to pass laws harmful to the Southern system. There were some who deplored Vir¬ ginia’s dependence upon agriculture, and urged the shifting of capi¬ tal and labor into industries. So early as 1827 the Norfolk Herald, pointing out that “a fearfully large proportion” of the population was either idle or working part time, suggested the establishment of cot¬ ton mills. They “would set the idle to work, draw out hidden wealth, and revive our drooping trade. If the agricultural States of Pennsyl¬ vania, Delaware, and Maryland are prospering through manufactures, 26 Forrest, Sketches of Norfolk, pp. 426-428. Pestilence and War 199 why not Virginia and North Carolina? We can employ slave labor, but we have also an abundant free population which needs employment. At least let us make an effort before resigning ourselves to poverty and ruin.” 27 Despite this appeal Norfolk, like the rest of the South, did not succeed in building up a system of manufactures. It remained what it had always been, a port for the agricultural South, shipping out the tobacco, cotton, and corn of Virginia and North Carolina. In politics the town was predominantly Whig. 28 For many years there was a long succession of Norfolk Whigs in the state legislature, and that party’s candidates for the presidency usually carried the borough. In 1840, when William Henry Harrison was elected, Norfolk cele¬ brated with parades, speeches, and illuminations. 29 Again, in 1848, the town was wild with joy at the news of the election of General Zachary Taylor. On November 28 the Whigs held “a grand uproarious, jolly celebration, marked by a great display of fireworks—in which both old and young joined—sky-rockets, flying pigeons, Roman candles, pin- wheels, spit-devils, and fire-crackers.” At seven in the evening the pro¬ cession started amid cheers for “Old Zach.” In the lead were a number of boys bearing torches; then came a band blaring away at “Old Dan Tucker,” and “Old Zach is Coming,” followed by a group bearing flags and portraits of Taylor and Fillmore. Next in order was a wagon filled with “fat old Whigs,” the Hampton Rough and Ready Club, the Princess Anne Club, the Portsmouth Club, another band, and finally the Norfolk Rough and Ready Club. As the procession pro¬ ceeded from street to street, it was greeted with cheers from the throngs on the sidewalks, and with the waving of handkerchiefs by the ladies on the balconies and porches. Later that night there was a supper at Ashland Hall, while throughout the town bonfires flamed, torches flickered, and cannon thundered. 30 During the administration of Pierce, the Know-Nothing party gained hundreds of adherents in Norfolk, and for a time had complete con¬ trol of the city government. Although the number of immigrants in the town was small compared with the hordes swarming each year into the Northern cities, they had aroused no little antipathy. The Irish were unpopular because they were Roman Catholics; the Ger¬ mans because of their competition with the native artisans. But, if we may believe the Argus, the Know-Nothing government in Norfolk not 27 Norfolk Herald, Oct. 29, 1827. 28 Forrest, Sketches of Norfolk, p. 394. 29 Burton, History of Norfolk, p. 9. 30 Norfolk Beacon, Nov. 30, 1848. 200 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port only tyrannized over Catholics and foreigners but Protestant Ameri¬ cans as well. They opposed and thwarted Mayor Woodis at every turn, displaced able men from the city services and “struck at men in the dark.’’ 31 In 1854 Know-Nothingism had become a burning issue in the town. When the Democrats nominated Henry A. Wise for the gover¬ norship, a number of Norfolk citizens asked him if he were a member of the Know-Nothing organization. “No,” he replied, “the present state of affairs is not such as to justify the formation, by the people, of any secret political society. ... In every character, in every rela¬ tion, in every sense, with all my head, and all my heart, and all my might I protest against this secret organization of native Americans and Protestants to proscribe Roman Catholics and naturalized citi¬ zens.” With the election of Wise the Know-Nothing movement sub¬ sided in Virginia, most of its adherents returning to the Whig party. 32 On March 21, 1856, the Whigs held a large and enthusiastic meet¬ ing in Ashland Hall, where they promised their ardent support to Fillmore and Donelson. The Norfolk Herald, on September 20, “hoisted at the head of its editorial columns the Old Line Whig flag,” and urged all to vote for Fillmore. For weeks the people could think of nothing, talk of nothing save the approaching election, and Whig or Democratic rallies followed each other in rapid succession. Fi¬ nally, when election day had passed and it became known that James Buchanan had been elected president, it was the turn of the Demo¬ crats to rejoice. On November 26 they held a noisy torchlight proces¬ sion, while the Whigs looked on in silence. 33 And now Norfolk watched with growing resentment and alarm, as the march of events hastened the country on to the maelstrom of dis¬ union and civil war—the continued troubles in Kansas, the Dred Scott decision, the Lincoln-Douglas debates, the John Brown raid, the rift in the Democratic party. During the session of the Democratic conven¬ tion at Charleston, men gathered in groups in the hotel lobbies or on the streets to discuss the latest developments. Excitement reached fever heat when it was known that the Northern Democrats had in¬ sisted upon inserting the so-called Freeport Heresy in the party plat¬ form, 34 and that the delegates from some of the Southern states had withdrawn from the convention. With a divided Democratic party 31 Norfolk Argus, Feb. 29, 1856. 32 Burton, History of Norfolk, pp. 18, 19. 33 Ibid., pp. 26, 27. 34 The Freeport Heresy was an attempt to reconcile Squatter Sovereignty with the Dred Scott decision. Pestilence and War 201 and with no more than a remnant of the old Whig party remaining in the field, the triumph of the Republicans was a live possibility. And for the Republicans, the avowed enemies of the Southern economic and social system, to be in control of the government seemed to most Southerners the worst of disasters. “We will not be governed by our enemies,” they said; “we will not be reduced to the condition of a con¬ quered people.” Foreboding and gloom increased when the Democrats reassembled at Baltimore, and, after additional Southern states had withdrawn, nominated Stephen A. Douglas for the presidency. The parties were now split along sectional lines, and it seemed certain that the next president would be a Northern man, elected almost entirely by North¬ ern votes. The nomination of John C. Breckenridge by the Southern Democrats, and John Bell by the so-called Constitutional Union party, composed chiefly of Whigs, did not alter the situation, for the chance of success for either was slight. On August 25 Douglas paid Norfolk a visit. He was received with great respect, a committee meet¬ ing him at the wharf in Portsmouth, to conduct him across the river to his rooms at the National Hotel. In the evening, when he spoke from the portico of the City Hall, five thousand people, not only from Norfolk and Portsmouth, but from Old Point, Hampton, and the country for miles around, packed every corner of the public square. Douglas pleaded earnestly for Squatter Sovereignty, trying as usual, to reconcile this, his favorite doctrine, with the Dred Scott de¬ cision. The crowd listened attentively, but without enthusiasm. 35 For weeks, now, excitement remained at a high pitch. On all sides could be seen the party standards, some advocating Breckenridge and Lane, some Douglas and Johnson, some Bell and Everett. On Sep¬ tember 3 William L. Goggin came to Norfolk to speak in the interest of Bell, and was greeted with the booming of cannon and the cheers of the Whigs. 36 Two weeks later a joint debate between champions of Douglas, Bell, and Breckenridge was held before a large audience in Ashland Hall. Here passions ran so high that fisticuffs occurred be¬ tween a Bell elector and a Breckenridge elector. 37 A few days before the election Henry A. Wise spoke in the Opera House, packed to its 35 Norfolk Argus, Aug. 27, i860. ‘‘I drove to Norfolk,” says John S. Wise in The End of an Era, “and seeing a great crowd assembled, paused and heard part of a speech by Stephan A. Douglas. I was greatly impressed by his tremendous voice, every tone of which reached me more than a block away.” J. S. Wise, The End of an Era (Boston, 1899), p. 156. 36 Burton, History of Norfolk, p. 40. 37 Ibid., p. 40. 202 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port utmost capacity, in favor of “the Constitution, the Union, and the true National Democracy.” 38 The vote in Norfolk followed traditional lines, for Bell received a clear majority over the other three candidates, with 986 votes, to 438 for Breckenridge, 232 for Douglas and none for Lincoln. In Portsmouth Bell polled 676 votes, Breckenridge 558, Douglas 210 and Lincoln 4. 39 In the country as a whole the result was quite different, Lincoln securing 180 electoral votes to 72 for Breckenridge, 39 for Bell, and 12 for Douglas. The fact that Lincoln had triumphed was known in Norfolk the next day, the Argus carrying an article headed “Triumph of the Black Republicans.” “Aaron’s rod had swallowed up all the rest,” it said. “The returns which came pouring in upon us yesterday, confirmed our fears by showing, in the roundest figures, that fanaticism and hostility to the social conditions of the South, have received a sec¬ tional sanction to take possession of the administrative powers of the Federal Government. The program of aggression is fully marked out; and the demon of discord may now stalk on ‘with pomp and circum¬ stance’ ‘conquering and to conquer’ so far as any hope of protection of our rights by the Federal arm remain to us. If we wish to preserve our liberty, we must look to ourselves, and not to those who scarcely deign to call themselves our fellow countrymen. Thanks to the blood of our forefathers, there is spirit yet left in the South, and the few coming months may prove themselves big with deliverance from the yoke of what is fast growing to be an intolerable bondage.” 40 Two days later this article was followed by another, openly sug¬ gesting secession. “Sooner or later the ties which now link together the North and South must be sundered. How closely the inevitable effect will follow the cause, may be a matter of speculation, but it can only be a matter of time. When those shall govern the confederacy who pronounce Southern life utter ‘barbarism,’ and denounce as ‘the sum of all villanies’ a practice on which our whole section sustains itself, the South must secede if secession be practicable.” 41 But such utterances were premature. A majority of the people of Norfolk were not yet ready to sever the bond of union which had existed for over seventy years, and which they still regarded with pride. The traditions of friendship with the North were strong—those memories of the Revolution, of the War of 1812, and of the still more recent sympathy 38 Norfolk Argus, Nov. 2, i860. 39 Ibid., Nov. 7, i860. 40 Ibid., Nov. 8, i860. 41 Ibid., Nov. 10, i860. Pestilence and War 203 and aid which Norfolk herself had received during the yellow fever epidemic. One correspondent to the Herald actually advised Virginia to throw in her lot with the North rather than the cotton states. “Their slave property, both by the duty and policy of the free States, would be secured, until it could be gotten rid of by gradual sales. There would be, on the part of the free States, a cordial and sincere co-operation in this scheme.” This suggestion found little favor, however, and the spirit of re¬ sistance, fanned by news of happenings in the cotton states, made rapid progress. In December a large group of Norfolk men formed an association to resist any hostile aggression upon Southern rights by the Federal government. “In order to present a united front to the bigotry and fanaticism which possess those who war against our insti¬ tutions and social conditions,” they declared, “we ignore all former political ties. ... In consideration of the impending crisis, caused by the threatening attitude and triumph of a sectional party, who are pledged to deadly hostility against our institutions, our section, and our dearest interests, we form a society, the Southern Rights Asso¬ ciation, and Minute Men of Norfolk, Virginia. We pledge ourselves to sustain the equality of Virginia in the Union, or failing in that, to unite under her authority, with any or all of our sister States ... to resist the aggressive and fanatic power of the North, even (as a last resort) to secession from such an odious Union as now exists.” 42 A few days later the entire town was thrown into intense excite¬ ment by the news that South Carolina had passed her ordinance of secession. Many of the older men considered this act rash and prema¬ ture, and earnestly advised Virginia against following suit. The Herald was strongly Unionist in sentiment. Why should we “dance crazily out of the Union to the fiddling of South Carolina?” it asked. On the other hand, the Argus greeted the news with enthusiasm. “Right nobly have the proud and brave sons of South Carolina met the emergency! At one stroke they have severed the chains which bound them to a tyrannous North, and they now stand before the world an independent people! . . . Other States will follow. ... A new confederacy will be formed, one of equal rights and honest execu- I tion, and American will become what destiny has writ of her—the cynosure of mankind.” 43 On December 21, the Norfolk Minute Men sent their greetings to the South Carolina Convention: “With the 42 Ibid., Dec. 15, i860. 43 Ibid., December 22, i860. 204 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port glorious Palmetto flag thrown to the breeze, and flying over our heads, we have just fired fifteen guns in honor of the first step taken by your gallant State, emblematic, we hope, of coming events. All honor and glory to ‘the game cock’ of the South.” 44 As one Southern state after another went out of the Union, the ex¬ citement in Norfolk grew. On January 4, the people observed the ‘‘fast and prayer day” proclaimed by President Buchanan; 45 on the fifth, hundreds of men thronged into Ashland Hall, to take steps for the organization of the military forces of the city. All the speakers em¬ phasized Norfolk’s attachment to the Union, but demanded guar¬ antees for the safety and honor of the state. Should the Federal govern¬ ment continue to trample on Southern rights, Norfolk must do her part in defending them, by force of arms if necessary. 46 In the mean¬ while all eyes were turned on Richmond, where the legislature was debating the question of calling a state convention. In the street, at the dinner table, everywhere, men asked each other, “What is the news from the Capitol?” At length it became known that the bill for the convention had passed by large majorities, and Norfolk made ready for the election of her delegate. On January 24 the secession group met in Ashland Hall to nominate their candidate, and, after several fiery addresses, named James R. Hubard. 47 The Union Conservatives nominated General George Blow. For the next few days the town was filled with the contentions of the two groups, every street corner being turned into a debating club, in which the merits of Secession or of Unionism were loudly proclaimed. The election itself, which was held February 4, resulted in a victory for the Union men. General Blow receiving 992 to 442 for Mr. Hubard. In fact the Unionists swept all Virginia, and entered the convention with an overwhelming majority. Apparently the new Confederacy, which was even then forming at Montgomery, would have to fight its battles without the aid of the Old Dominion. 48 Yet the Norfolk secessionists did not despair. When word came of the election and inauguration of Jefferson Davis, sentiment began to swing their way. Now that an organized union of Southern states ex¬ isted, ready and anxious to welcome her, to break with the old Union 44 Ibid. 45 Burton, History of Norfolk, p. 42. 46 Ibid. 47 Ibid., pp. 42, 43. 48 James C. McGregor, The Disruption of Virginia (New York, 1922), p. 110. Pestilence and War 205 seemed less like a leap in the dark. Some of the more ardent young men began leaving for Charleston to join the Confederate army. 49 Such was the situation when Abraham Lincoln was inaugurated. In his address the President announced his intention of maintaining the Union, if necessary, by force. “I shall take care,” he said, “as the Con¬ stitution itself expressly enjoins upon me, that the laws of the Union be faithfully executed in all the States.” This declaration produced a profound impression in Norfolk. The Day Book, an anti-secessionist paper, was bitter in its denunciation. “Lincoln, the wild, political des¬ pot of the West, whose head has been crazed by the doctrines and isms of Horace Greely, has proclaimed to those who had patience to hope better things of him, that they must hope no longer. His inaugu¬ ral has gone forth to the world—carrying with it the declaration of coercion, fully and explicitly announced. It has told the millions of inhabitants of this country, who hoped for peace from his lips, that they shall have no peace. He proclaims to the South war! war! war!” 50 Even the Herald warned the people that the address had extinguished the last hope of a peaceful settlement. 51 The Union delegates at Richmond were now in a quandary. With the press of all eastern and central Virginia unanimous that the state could not continue in the old Union should it begin war on the Con¬ federacy, and with Lincoln’s assurance that he intended to use the army and navy for that purpose, the secessionists pressed the fight (with renewed hope. They were seconded by a volley of resolutions from meetings in many cities and towns, all demanding immediate (withdrawal from the Union. 52 In Norfolk a huge assemblage of people in Mechanics Hall, after listening to many fiery addresses, adopted a resolution instructing General Blow to cast his vote for secession. 53 Already some impatient soul had unfurled the Confederate flag, with its seven stars encircling the letters “Va.,” from the roof of a house on Wolfe Street, 54 and now a party of young men sailed down to Craney 49 Burton, History of Norfolk, p. 43. 50 Ibid,., pp. 43, 44. B1 Norfolk Herald, March 6, i860. 52 McGregor, The Disruption of Virginia, p. 143. 1 53 Burton, History of Norfolk, p. 44. Mechanics Hall was built in 1850 on the south side of Main Street a few doors east of Market Square (now Commercial [Place) (Forrest, Sketches of Norfolk, p. 251) . This apparently was the building at 159 Main Street, listed in the 1886 directory as Heptasophian Hall. It was on the site later occupied by the Gaiety Theater (earlier called the Majestic) until it was lemolished in ig6o. Letter of Col. E. Griffith Dodson to the editor, March 20, 1961. 54 Burton, History of Norfolk, p. 44. 206 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port Island and hoisted the colors over the old blockhouse there. 55 The city was expecting and ready for secession and war. Events moved rapidly to the climax. On April 12 a dispatch was received from Charleston telling of the bombardment of Fort Sumter. Then came the news of the surrender, followed by President Lincoln’s call for seventy-five thousand volunteers. “Business was almost sus¬ pended. The people assembled upon the streets, discussing the situa¬ tion, breathlessly awaiting the decision of the convention at Richmond, and listening to popular harangues. The local militia, anticipating the result, assembled, and paraded the streets w'ith bands and Southern flags.” 56 When news arrived that the convention, amid scenes of ex¬ citement bordering on hysteria, had passed an ordinance of secession by eighty-five votes to fifty-five, 57 “it was greeted with great cheering, the firing of guns, and every demonstration of excited enthusiasm.” 58 Virginia had remained loyal to the Union until Mr. Lincoln forced upon her the option of fighting for or against the new Confederacy. Acquiescing heartily in the decision of the convention, Norfolk now began active preparations for the struggle. 55 Ibid. 56 Wise, The End of an Era, p. 160. 57 McGregor, The Disruption of Virginia, p. 176. 58 Wise, The End of an Era, p. 160. Many of the officers at the Navy Yard at once resigned to take service under the Confederacy. A prominent exception was David Farragut, who turned his back on his old associates and his wife’s family, to remain faithful to the Federal government (Albert Mordell, Farragut at the Crossroads, Annapolis, 1931) . CHAPTER TEN The Mailed Fist Saturday, April 20, 1861, was a day of intense excitement in Norfolk. One rumor had it that the frigate Cumberland was about to bombard the city, another that the Navy Yard was to be destroyed, still another that all the vessels there were to be scuttled. The Norfolk and Portsmouth militia were under arms, and during the day the Rich¬ mond Grays and six companies from Petersburg, arrived by railway. 1 General William B. Taliaferro would have done well, perhaps, to em¬ ploy these troops for an immediate attack upon the Navy Yard. Here were the Merrimac, the old Pennsylvania, the Columbus, the Delaware, the New York, and other vessels which would have been invaluable as a nucleus to the Confederate navy; here were vast stores of guns, small arms, rope, sails, and naval stores of all kinds; here machine shops, foundries, and docks. But General Taliaferro lacked the guns to contend with the warships, or marines to carry them by boarding. It would have required only a few minutes to capture the Navy Yard, he thought, but to hold it under the guns of the ships was another matter. 2 While he was debating this point, a Federal officer came from the yard under a flag of truce. He was conducted to the Atlantic Hotel, where in the presence of the Confederate commanders he gave as¬ surance that none of the vessels would be removed, and that not a shot would be fired. 3 This confirmed General Taliaferro in his determi¬ nation to withhold his hand. The conference was no sooner over, however, than Commodore Charles S. McCauley, in command at the Navy Yard, gave orders 1 B. J. Lossing Pictorial History of the Civil War (Philadelphia, 1866-68) , I, 395. 2 Stewart, History of Norfolk County, pp. 69, 70. 3 Lossing, Pictorial History of the Civil War, I, 395; Virginia Gordan Scrap Book (an unpublished collection of clippings from newspapers during the Civil War, in possession of Mr. John D. Gordan, of Norfolk) . 208 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port for the scuttling of all the Federal vessels save the Cumberland. Hardly had this been done when the Pawnee, bearing Rear-Admiral Pauld ing and several hundred men, came steaming up the Southern Branch Paulding had orders to take off every ship afloat there, and was deepl) chagrined when he found the Merrimac and others slowly settling tc the bottom. So he made preparations to destroy the Navy Yard and tc draw off the men. All that afternoon and evening the Federals worked, knocking the trunnions off cannons, breaking machinery, placing combustibles in buildings and vessels preparatory to firing them. One man spent his time rolling cannon balls into the river. At last, at two in the morning, the soldiers, marines, sailors, and workmen were taken on board the Pawnee and the Cumberland. At 3:20 a.m., when these vessels moved out into the river, a rocket was sent up from the Pawnee, as a signal for the firing of the Navy Yard. 4 In a few moments the flames shot up from building after building, while the great ship-of-the-line Pennsylvania, the Merrimac, and other vessels became floating furnaces. “The scene was grand and terrific beyond description. The roar of the conflagration was loud enough to be heard at three or four miles distance, and to this were added oc¬ casional discharges from the heavy guns of the old Pennsylvania,’’ 5 No sooner had the Federals gone than the Virginia troops rushed in to grapple wffth the flames. Despite their efforts, when morning came the ship houses, some workshops, the old marine barracks, and several other buildings were in ashes; the New York, on the stocks, was totally i consumed; the Pennsylvania, Dolphin, and Columbia were burned to the water’s edge; the Merrimac and Germantown partly burnt and sunk; the Plymouth, Columbus, and Delaware scuttled. Yet many valu- 1 able buildings escaped, and the dry dock was uninjured. It is stated that the master’s mate, who had orders to blow up the dry dock, lighted the fuse, but instead of igniting the powder train with it, threw it in the water. This he did in order to prevent loss of life to women and children from stones hurled into the city by the powder mine. 6 Hundreds of fine cannon were found ready for duty. 7 The importance of this capture for the Confederacy can hardly be overestimated. Could the Southern naval constructors secure seasoned timbers and proper engines, eventually they might send out from the Elizabeth warships 4 Lossing, Pictorial History of the Civil War, I, 395-397. 5 Virginia Gordan Scrap Book; Edward L. Pierce, Addresses and Papers (Boston, 1896), pp. 8-10; J. W. H. Porter, A Record (Portsmouth, Va., 1892), pp. 12-16. 6 Porter, A Record, pp. 15-16. 7 Ibid., p. 22. The Mailed Fist 209 capable of contesting with the Federal navy. They might break up the jlockade, open the channels of trade, and secure for the Confeder- icy the all-important European goods. They might guard the sounds, rays, .and rivers, closing them to the Northern warships and transports, ind rendering invaluable aid to the Confederate armies. In other vords, Norfolk was the sole hope of a Confederate navy, and a navy vas almost the sole hope of victory and independence. General Taliaferro took immediate steps to fortify Norfolk and Ports- nouth. Earthworks were erected on Hospital Point, a battery set up at Fort Norfolk, the works on Craney Island repaired, and a battery jlaced on Sewells Point. 8 It was at the last named place that the first encounter with the Federal navy took place. On May 19, 1861, when he Confederates were just mounting their guns, a shot from the iteamer Monticello landed in their midst. “Never was a battery worse jrepared. The guns were not in order, not a sight had been placed on hem, . . . consequently the firing was at random and very few shots were effective.” The Monticello was joined by an armed tug, and the :wo vessels continued the cannonade until the close of day. The next norning the Monticello opened again, but during the night the Con¬ federates had completed their preparations, and their fire was now so lot that after an hour and a half she retired to Old Point. 9 The forti- ication of the Elizabeth now went forward rapidly. Twenty-nine guns were set up at Sewells Point, fifteen at Fort Norfolk, sixteen at Fort Melson, eleven at Pinner’s Point, ten at Lamberts Point, five on Tanner’s Creek, five on Boush’s Bluff, and forty-five in various en- xenchments. 10 Those were exciting days for Norfolk. Troops were constantly ar¬ riving over the Seaboard and the Petersburg railways, and marching iff to the encampments around the two towns. 11 As they swung through .he streets, under the flags of North Carolina, of Georgia, or of Vir¬ ginia, people lined the sidewalks or crowded the windows, waving randkerchiefs and cheering. Nothing was too good for the visiting xoops. The ladies sat up at night to mend their clothes and darn :heir socks, while in the day they visited the camps with fruit and other delicacies. There were frequent field ceremonies, in which this ■egiment received a Confederate flag, or that colonel a spirited horse. 3 ne week the soldiers gave a concert in the Opera House for the sick 8 Stewart, History of Norfolk County, p. 70. 9 Ibid., pp. 74, 75; Burton, History of Norfolk, pp. 47-50. 10 Stewart, History of Norfolk County, pp. 75, 76; Porter, A Record, p. 23. 11 Richmond Dispatch, May 10, 1861. 210 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port in camp, the next a group of little girls held a fair, the next the ladie of the Catholic church gave a benefit for the families of the cit’ volunteers. When word came that Governor Letcher had appointed a, commander of the Virginia forces General Robert E. Lee, there wa much surprise among soldiers and townspeople. “Who is he? When did he come from?’’ everyone asked. Few dreamed that their nev leader was destined to become one of the greatest military leaders o: all time. There was less surprise and more satisfaction when Genera Benjamin Huger, of South Carolina, arrived to take command of tht Norfolk district. 12 Brawls and barroom fights were not uncommon in Norfolk in th< first weeks of the war, but with the arrival of General Huger they wert suppressed with a stern hand. “There were no important cases ir. Mayor Lamb’s court this morning,” wrote a correspondent to the Rich mond Dispatch on August 17, 1861. “The watchmen of the night re ported no arrests or cases of disorder.” A powerful Federal fleet, as sembled in Hampton Roads, maintained a complete blockade of the Elizabeth, and so stopped all direct trade with foreign countries and with other Virginia ports. For a time vessels continued to pass through the canals to North Carolina, but this trade, too, eventually was blocked. Prices for foodstuffs began to rise, flour selling at $8.50 a barrel, coffee at fifty cents a pound, sugar at fifteen cents, potatoes at one dollar a bushel. Fish were plentiful, and, together with corn bread, formed the mainstay of every table. There was no unemployment, for the men who had not joined the army or navy were needed in the small manufacturing plants which had been started to supply goods formerly imported. 13 In the midst of the general confidence and enthusiasm, came news of a disaster, so unexpected and so far-reaching as to shroud the city in gloom. It was on January 11, 1862, that a fleet of over a hundred gunboats, tugs, and transports, bearing sixteen thousand Federal troops, sailed from Hampton Roads out into the Atlantic. This expedition, under General Ambrose E. Burnside and Flag-Officer Louis M. Golds- borough, was directed against Pamlico and Albemarle sounds. These leaders found the Confederates unprepared. The government at Rich¬ mond would have been wise had it established at the outset of the war, at each of the inlets through the North Carolina bars, impregnable forts, backed by every available gunboat. It was of vital importance to 12 Burton, History of Norfolk, pp. 46-67. 13 Ibid., p. 61. The Mailed Fist 211 keep the Federals out of these inland seas. Here was a doorway for European commerce which the Federal blockading fleet would have found it difficult to close, for the storms off Cape Hatteras were fre¬ quent, and there were no near-by harbors. On the other hand, a Union force in Albemarle Sound would be a constant menace to Nor¬ folk and the Navy Yard, and so to the infant Confederate navy, for a short march up the Chowan would place them athwart the Seaboard Railway, the chief artery of communication with the South. But Fort Hatteras and Fort Clark, at the Hatteras inlet, had been captured by a Federal fleet in August, 1861, and the way into Pamlico Sound was now open to Burnside’s expedition. 14 However, the way to Albemarle Sound was still blocked by Con¬ federate fortifications at Roanoke Island. Situated between the two great sounds with a narrow channel on each side, this place, which was a bulwark for all northeastern Carolina, could easily have been made impregnable. But the Confederates had contented themselves with placing batteries, mounting forty guns in all, on either side of the island, sinking vessels in the main channel, sending up a flotilla of pigmy gunboats, and reinforcing the garrison until it numbered several thousand men. General Henry A. Wise, realizing that his force was inadequate, implored the government at Richmond to send him a part of the sixteen thousand men at Norfolk. Roanoke Island is the key to Norfolk, he said. It unlocks two sounds, eight rivers, four canals, two railways, and the region from which the city draws four-fifths of its supplies. It should be defended at the expense of twenty thou¬ sand men, and many millions of dollars. 15 But his warning availed nothing, and he was left alone to fight Burnside’s overwhelming force. On February 7 the Federal gunboats moved up the west channel and began an engagement with the batteries. The Union guns were of heavier caliber and far more numerous, so that after a short en¬ counter, the redoubts began to crumble, the flagstaff was shot away, and one battery after the other put out of action. Thereupon the Federal troops landed, and the next morning, moved forward to the attack. The little Confederate army fought desperately, several times repulsing the enemy, but they were outnumbered three to one, and at last began to waver. At this moment a determined charge by the New York Zouaves broke their line and swept it back toward the shore. 14 Lossing, Pictorial History of the Civil War, II, 168, 169. 15 Lossing, Pictorial History of the Civil War, pp. 173, 174. 212 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port Here, since there were not enough boats to convey the men over ti Nag’s Head on the bar, most of them had to surrender. A few escapee and made their way up the bar to Norfolk. 16 The Southern press criticized the administration bitterly for thi disaster. “We all knew of the fitting out of the Burnside expedition, o its presence off the Carolina coast, of its intention of attacking Roan oke Island; we all knew that the force on the island was inadequati to its defence,” said the Norfolk Day Book. “Yet that handful o brave and devoted men were suffered to remain there insufficientl' reinforced, ... to be ‘butchered to make a Northern holiday.’ . . If the vulnerable points on our extended coast are to be defended a all, let them be defended effectively. . . . We ought to have had in thi sound twenty gunboats or more. ... Ten months have elapsed sina the Navy Yard here came providentially into our possession—anc fifty such gunboats might have been easily constructed there. . . But there has not one single such been here constructed. . . . Le it never be lost sight of for a moment at a time, that this point, thi: Navy Yard, is one of incalculable importance to the Southern Con federacy.” 17 Although there was much truth in this criticism, it is not true thai the Navy Yard had been put to no important use. In fact Secretary Stephen R. Mallory had been moving heaven and earth to turn oui warships capable of holding their own with the Federal frigates, b) converting one or more of the scuttled vessels in the Southern Branch into ironclad steamers. Since the Plymouth and the Germantown were sailing vessels, it was decided to make the experiment with what wa: left of the Merrimac. In November 1861, the New York Tribune pub lished a letter from one Henry Davis, a Northerner just returned from Norfolk. “The Merrimac has been transformed into a great battering ram, with a steel nose, for running down vessels,” he wrote. “All hei internal works are completed, but her plating is only partially effected as yet. . . . Her engines are four feet below the water line, and her sides slope inward. She is to be covered overhead w T ith a bomb-proof network of railroad iron. . . . Her armament is to be of the heaviest and best rifled cannon known, and there is no doubt, if she has a 16 Ibid.., pp. 170-176; Richmond Dispatch, Feb. 13, 1862; Norfolk Day Book, Feb. 12, 1862. 17 Norfolk Day Book, Feb. 12, 1862. It is stated by J. W. H. Porter in A Record, that Naval Constructor John L. Porter, in June, 1861, urged upon Secretary of the Navy Mallory the importance of importing from England steam engines and armor plate for gunboats before the Southern ports were blockaded. Mallory turned a deaf ear, and awakened to the importance of the matter only when it was too late. The Mailed Fist 213 chance, she will do an immense amount of damage to our fleet.” This strange monster, which could no longer be recognized as the graceful Merrimac, the Confederates christened the Virginia. The transforma¬ tion was accomplished under the supervision of William P. William¬ son, John L. Porter, and John M. Brooke, all formerly officers in the United States Navy. In the meanwhile. President Lincoln, Secretary Stanton, and Gen¬ eral McClellan were preparing to hurl the great Army of the Po¬ tomac against Virginia in an effort to capture Richmond. Two routes presented themselves: by water to Fort Monroe and up the York River; or by land through Manassas and Fredericksburg. The former was selected, and warships and transports assembled at Washington. But before the expedition could move, the absolute mastery of Chesa¬ peake Bay had to be assured, and early in March this mastery was challenged by the Virginia. It was at eleven on the morning of the teighth that the ironclad left the Navy Yard, accompanied by the little river boats Beaufort and Raleigh, and passed slowly down the Eliza¬ beth, amid the prayers of the throngs on shore and the salutes of the Confederate batteries. A few minutes later the lookouts on the Federal warships were startled to see the strange vessel pass Sewells Point and head west for Newport News. To them she looked like “a submerged house, with the roof only above water,” set off by the Confederate flag and a smokestack. 18 At the mouth of the James River, riding at anchor, were the Cum¬ berland, of twenty-two guns, and the Congress, of fifty guns, so little expectant of danger that their boats were swinging at the lower booms and washed clothes were hanging in the rigging. As the Virginia bore down upon these vessels, inactivity gave place to stir and bustle, as the drews prepared for the battle. “My hearties,” said the captain of the Congress, “you see before you the great Southern bugaboo, got up to Eright us out of our wits. Stand to your guns, and let me assure you that one good broadside from our gallant frigate, and she is ours.” With a tremendous roar the Congress opened. But when the balls glanced off harmlessly from the ironclad superstructure, all on board the frigate realized that their vessel was doomed. In the meanwhile, two Confederate steamers, the Patrick Henry and the Jamestown , had come down the James River to enter the battle. On the other hand, j 18 Virginias Newton, Merrimac or Virginia (Richmond, 1907) , pp. 10-11: Virginia “Iordan Scrap Book; John M. Brooke, “The Merrimac, or Virginia, her Real Pro¬ jector,” Southern Historical Society Papers, XIX, 1. Plate I. Lord Dunmore. The last royal governor of Virginia. His occupation of Norfolk led to the city’s destruction dur¬ ing the Revolution. From the Virginia Historical Society copy of the portrait by Sir Joshua Reynolds. Part of Prov/nce Plate IV. General Robert B. Taylor, commander of the American forces in the battle of Craney Island. Plate VI. St. Paul’s Church. Erected in 1739, it was tiie only building in Norfolk to survive the Revolution. Plate VII. Norfolk Academy. Modeled on the temple of Theseus in Athens, the building was constructed in 1840. Plate VIII. The Water Pumping Station at Moore’s Bridges. Built in 1873, this was the beginning of the city water system. Plate IX. Horsecar. Horse-drawn vehicles like this provided public transportation over the city streets until the arrival of the electric trolley car in 1894. f Granby Street and College Place. Plate XI. Commercial Place Looking towards the Ferry. This view, taken in 1888, shows the market stalls. One of the Main Street horsecars is directly behind the telephone pole. Plate XII. The Old City Hall in the 1890’s. This view from McCullough’s clocks shows City Hall Avenue after it was filled in 1884, ending on Granby Street. To the left is the Armory, to the right the Haddington and Taylor buildings. Plate XIII. The Monticello Hotel in 1902. The view on the opposite page was transformed by the erection of this hotel. Note the Armory and the old City Hall on the right; to the left is one of the family homes still surviving in 1902, and beyond it is the Granby Family Theatre. Plate XIV. Main Street looking east from Granby. This 1902 view shows one of the new trolley cars, introduced in 1894. Plate XV. Church Street in 1902. The view is from Main Street, looking north toward the churchyard of St. Paul's. Plate XVI. The Granby Family Theatre. The theater is decorated with Hags in honor of the opening of the Jamestown Exposition, April 24, 1907. Note at the right the edge of a new building- erected between the theater and the Monticello after the picture of the hotel was taken in 1902. i H j X . < . < ^ o : c ^ i o< ' - —c G qj qj c/3 QJ j-j ^ biD^ qj 'tS rt •*-< r 2 *r! ^ T 1 ° n c ^ • >-* o S * £ 3 JD _ OJ H l 2 ni u &P<« Ji S fl“ C" ; 8 j3 be— '"■ — E 5 ^ CL >'•£ ^ o rt c-> C • ^ —; C ^ 13 ^ H &£'C QJ ^ X si f “ S 3 r> l_} ’"”' Berkley bridge approach were subsequently cleared away to make room for the new Civic Center. Plate XVIII. The Norfolk Redevelopment Program: Public Housing. Above are several of the houses torn down in the slum clearance program; below is a view of one of the hous¬ ing projects that replaced the slum. Plate XIX. The Norfolk Redevelopment Program: Private Investment. Above is the old Armory, con¬ verted into the Municipal Building, as it looked in 1936, with the city market behind it; below is the Rennert building, with its Maritime Tower, which replaced it at the end of the i95o’s. Plate XX. Norfolk of the 1960’s. Above is a model of the completed Civic Center: the Public Safety build¬ ing at the top was opened in 1961, with the other structures scheduled to be finished by 1964. Below is an artist’s drawing of the new public library building as it would look when completed. The Mailed Fist 215 ;very Union heart in the fleet and in the fortress throbbed with de- ;pair.” “Oh! what a night that was!” said an eyewitness at Old Point. ‘The heavens were aflame with the burning Congress. The hotel was :rowded with fugitives. . . . There was nothing to dispute the empire )f the seas with the Merrimac, and had a land attack been made by VTagruder then, God only knows what our fate would have been!” Yet his alarm was in large measure groundless. The Virginia could not ift the blockade and attack New York, because she was not a sea¬ going vessel and would have foundered the moment she got outside )f the Capes; she could not go to Baltimore or Washington, because he drew too much water. She was suited only for fighting in Hampton ioads and adjacent waters, and even there the enemy, in order to dude her, had only to avoid the deepest channels. This should have )een obvious to all after the next day’s battle. At 8:30 on the morning of March 9 the Virginia, with the Patrick ienry and the Jamestown, opened fire on the Minnesota, which was till fast aground. Before they could disable her, however, “the Erics- on Battery, now called the Monitor, was discovered off Newport dews,” bearing down upon them. This strange craft had arrived late he evening before, and was now ready to try conclusions with the headed Southern fighter. As she approached, the Patrick Henry and he Jamestown now retired, for they could not face her heavy guns, and l battle royal followed between the two ironclads. Shot after shot vas hurled against the slanting sides of the Virginia, broadside after >roadside pelted the iron turret of the Monitor. In her efforts to keep ter sides presented to her more agile antagonist, the Virginia ran ground. For fifteen minutes she remained immovable, while the Monitor circled at will, searching for weak spots in her armor. At ast she broke away, and the battle continued on more even terms. )nce the Virginia rammed the Monitor, but without her iron beak ould do her no serious damage. At last, after six hours of incessant ighting, the Monitor retired to the shallow water, known as the Mid- lie Ground, where the Virginia could not follow. “The pilots declared hat we could get no nearer the Minnesota,” Flag-Officer Buchanan eported afterwards, “and believing her to be entirely disabled, nd the Monitor having run into shoal water, which prevented our loing her any further injury, we ceased firing at twelve, and pro- eeded to Norfolk.” He was anxious, also, to repair the damages o the Virginia, for her stem was twisted, her armor damaged, the mokestack riddled, the muzzles of two guns shot away, and she was 216 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port leaking badly. 21 That night the Minnesota was gotten afloat ant towed below Old Point. 22 The first battle between ironclads is frequently misunderstood. Th Monitor did not save Washington and New York, because they wer never in danger from the Virginia. She did not even win the master of Hampton Roads, for the Virginia later moved out freely in thosi waters, and was unmolested. More important, she did not clear thi way for McClellan’s invasion of the Peninsula. Late in April, whei General Joseph E. Johnston appealed to Flag-Officer Josiah Tatnal to bring the Virginia around to the mouth of the York, the latter con sidered the project impracticable. “Even though we should succeed ir running past Fort Monroe and the warships there,” he said, “we coulc not get at the transports, because their light draught would make i easy for them to retire to shallow water out of our range.” 23 In othei words, it was not the Monitor, but the limitations of the Virginia it self, which put such narrow restrictions on her activities. From the out set the Virginia could be expected merely to defend the mouth of tht James, Nansemond, and Elizabeth rivers, and this she continued to dc until the day of her destruction. 24 That day was now at hand. McClellan had landed one hundrec thousand men on the Peninsula and was pushing on toward Richmond With the York open, exposing the left flank and rear of the Confeder ate army to attack. General Joseph E. Johnston had no alternative save to retire. This in turn placed the Federals in possession of the left bank of the James, and thus menaced the right bank and the Peters¬ burg Railway. Since Burnside was operating in the Albemarle region, within striking distance of the Seaboard, Norfolk had become unten¬ able. “If they get possession of the country west of this place, through which the railroads pass, as well as the waters on the other three sides, any escape from here is very doubtful,” wrote General Huger on April 29- 25 With this view General Lee concurred. “His [the enemy’s] possession of James River will render the evacuation of Norfolk in time necessary,” he wrote on April 30. 26 Since, moreover, Huger’s di¬ vision was urgently needed by Johnston at Richmond, the order to 21 Stewart, History of Norfolk County, p. 84. 22 F. T. Miller, Photographic History of the Civil War (New York, 1911) , VI, 154- 182; White, The First Iron-Clad Naval Engagement; Virginia Gordan Scrap Book. 23 TFar of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies. Series I, Vol. XI (Washington, 1889) , pp. 477, 478. 24 Newton, Merrimac or Virginia, p. 23. 25 War of the Rebellion, Series I, Vol. XI, p. 475. 26 Ibid., p. 476. The Mailed Fist 217 evacuate the city was issued, and on May 2, Secretary of War Ran¬ dolph went to Norfolk to prepare for the removal of ammunition, provisions, heavy guns, and rolling stock. The rumor that Norfolk, the Navy Yard, and the Virginia were to be abandoned, caused consternation, not only in Norfolk, but throughout Virginia. “There has been some vague talk lately of a possible evacuation of Norfolk, destruction of the Navy Yard, etc.,” said one of the Richmond papers on May 7, “but it would seem in¬ credible that the government harbored such an idea. . . . We would lose the finest navy yard in the whole country, and a ship, which, be¬ sides performing so great a part in the maintenance of Norfolk, etc., protects James River and Magruder’s right flank from the enemy’s gun jboats.” Moreover, if Norfolk is lost, will not Burnside immediately move on Weldon, and so cut off communications between Richmond and the South? Despite these protests the removal of men and stores continued rapidly, and, by the evening of May 9, was practically com¬ pleted. Early on the morning on May 10, General John E. Wool, accompa- aied by President Lincoln, Secretary Stanton, and Secretary Chase, anded a large body of troops at Ocean View, and marched on Nor¬ folk. Upon arriving at Tanner’s Creek, they found the bridge in lames, and so were forced to make a detour around the head of the creek to the Princess Anne road. At four in the afternoon they reached :he Confederate earthworks, but finding them deserted and the guns ■piked, they continued until they were within sight of the spires ol SJorfolk peering through the trees. Here they were halted by Mayor Lamb and several councilmen, with a flag of truce. The mayor stated that the Confederates had evacuated Norfolk, that there would be no opposition, and requested protection for citizens and property. There¬ upon the men bivouacked on the field, while General Wool, Secretary Lhase, and General Viele, with an escort, entered the town and pro¬ ceeded to the City Hall. Here the mayor addressed a crowd of citizens, de regretted the abandonment of the city, and, had the decision ested with him, would have defended it to the last. But since the step tad been taken, he begged them to acquiesce and abstain from dolence and disorder. A call for three cheers for President Davis re¬ vived an enthusiastic response, and after giving three groans for dncoln, “with less heartiness,” the people dispersed. 27 While the Union forces were occupying Norfolk, the Confederates 27 War of the Rebellion, V, 40-46; XII, 677-679; Virginia Gordan Scrap Book. 218 Norfolk: Historic Southern Poi t had been engaged in destroying the Navy Yard and the shipping in the river. The dry dock was mined and seriously damaged, machinery was broken up, buildings burned, and valuable stores of tobacco thrown in the river. One party rowed out to the fleet, and set fire to the William Selden, the Cayuga, and Harmony, the Plymouth, the Pilot Boy, and other craft. Two of the burning vessels floated over toward Norfolk, but before they could do any damage firemen succeeded in towing them out from the docks. The work of destruction continued far into the night. From the Norfolk side “the incendiaries could be seen moving about in the darkness, with their pitch-pine flambeaux, like so many diabolical visitants. The scene strongly reminded the spectator of the panorama of the burning of Moscow, and with the immense flame that it threw forth made the scene one of terrible grandeur.” The next day found the Navy Yard in ruins, “scarcely anything left but black walls and tall chimneys.” 28 In the meanwhile, anxiety and uncertainty prevailed on board the Virginia, off Sewells Point. When Flag-Officer Tatnall learned that Norfolk and the Elizabeth River batteries had been abandoned, he de¬ termined to run the vessel up the James. He had been assured by his pilots that by lightening the ironclad until she drew only eighteen feet, she could ascend to within forty miles of Richmond. So, calling all hands on deck, he explained the situation, adding that he hoped to surprise the Federal fleet in the James, and aid in the defense of Richmond. The men replied with three cheers, and went heartily to their task. But late that night, after the unarmored sides of the vessel had been brought above the water line, rendering her unfit for action, the pilots announced that it would be impossible to float her over the Jamestown Flats. Such a thing could have been done with a strong eastern wind, they said, but not now, when there had been westerly winds for two days. Tatnall was in a serious dilemma. He could not go forth to a desperate battle with the Federal fleet and batteries in the vessel’s present condition. “I had no time to lose,” he wrote after¬ wards. “The ship was not in condition for battle, even with an enemy of equal force, and their force was overwhelming. I there¬ fore determined, with the concurrence of the first and flag lieutenants, to save the crew for future service, . . . and to destroy the ship, to prevent her falling into the hands of the enemy.” So the Virginia, in which such fond hopes had been reposed, was grounded near Craney 28 Virginia Gordan Scrap Book; Photographic History of the Civil War, VI, 73, 75, • 55 - The Mailed Fist 219 [sland, tar, oil, fat, and grease spread over the decks and set on fire. 29 When she had been burning fiercely for an hour and a half, a terrific explosion tore her to pieces. “The air was thick with large and small pieces of timber. Huge sections of red-hot iron plate were torn off, and whirled through the air like so much paper. The shore and water for miles around were covered with pieces of the wreck, in every con- :eivable shape and size. The noise made by the explosion was terrific, shaking everything, even the very ground. . . . The fated vessel sank immediately after the explosion, not a vestige of her re¬ maining above water.” 30 The days which followed were full of anxiety, hardship, and humilia¬ tion for the people of Norfolk. While the enemy camped at their front doors, while Negro troops paraded through their streets, while busi¬ ness was almost dead, and actual famine to be apprehended, they waited anxiously for news from the dear ones fighting under Lee and Johnston. From the first, however, good order prevailed. “It being Sunday, of course all places of business were closed, and the city pre¬ sented a quiet aspect,” said a Northern reporter the day after the Federal occupation. “The wharves were crowded with blacks, male and female, and a goodly number of working people, with their wives and children, were strolling about. Soldiers were stationed on the wharves, and picketed through the city, whilst the flag of the Union floated in triumph from the cupola of the Custom House. The houses through the city were generally closed, especially most of those of the wealthier classes.” 31 A few weeks later another visitor spoke of Norfolk as “a city of the dead, almost all the stores being closed, grass growing in the streets, and few residents to be seen.” Food was scarce, but coun¬ try people still came in with strawberries, vegetables, chickens, and eggs. 32 The Atlantic Hotel was open and doing a thriving business; the proprietors rejoicing at the sight of gold and silver coins. Although the officers and soldiers were usually orderly and cases of rudeness rare, friction with the civilians began from the first. One lady, who had threatened a soldier for trespassing upon her premises, was marched off to headquarters under guard; country people who came in to summon physicians were detained until they took the oath of allegiance to the United States; the Norfolk Day Book was sup- jj 29 War of the Rebellion, V, 46, 47. 30 Virginia Gordan Scrap Book. 31 Baltimore American, May 13, 1862. 32 Virginia Gordan Scrap Book. 220 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port pressed, and a sheet called the Norfolk Union issued in its place. 31 Feeling at all times ran high. The Federals looked upon the citizen; as rebels, the citizens despised the Yankee invaders. “No person of an) respectability holds any intercourse whatever with the Yankees,” it was asserted. “They will not even look at them, and our contempt foi them cuts. . . . They tried in every way to overcome this hatred, but finding it impossible, at length have given up the attempt.” 34 General Wool, soon after taking possession of the city, inquired of the councils whether they considered themselves “as of the United States, of the Confederacy, as neutrals, or as a conquered people?” At first the coun¬ cils evaded the question, but when pressed, stated that they considered the city as conquered territory. “The surrender of the city was giv¬ ing it up to superior force. . . . Force implies the . . . overpowering of the people; to overpower the people is to conquer them, and to conquer them is but to subject them to the rule of the conqueior. Thus the status of Norfolk is plain.” General Wool then urged the city officials to take the oath of allegiance, but they would not. Thereupon civil government tvas suppressed and military rule substi¬ tuted. 35 Norfolk's cup of bitterness was full when the Federal authorities began recruiting the slaves, organizing them into regiments, and using them for garrison duty and for expeditions into the surrounding coun¬ try. To see Negro soldiers drilling in the streets was bad enough, but to have them arrest some old-school Southerner, or ransack his house, or stand guard over him in prison, was almost too much to be endured. On January i, 1863, the Norfolk Negroes held a parade in honor of the Emancipation Proclamation. The procession was led by a line of hacks filled with colored women, some in white, others in Union colors. Next came an old butcher wagon drawn by two half- starved horses, in which Negro women trampled and tore Southern flags, while behind was a column of black marchers, about five hun¬ dred strong, directed by marshals mounted on Federal horses and decorated with blue sashes looped up with red and white. The proces¬ sion moved down Main Street, where it was joined by another di¬ vision, and the two proceeded to the residence of General Viele, the 33 From the old Herald Office. 34 Virginia Gordan Scrap Book. A Delaware soldier testifies to the hostility of the Norfolk ladies. “They are proof against the charms of brass buttons. They care noth¬ ing for sash or sword. You may get yourself up exquisitely and they wont deign you a look, except through the blinds.” ( Delaware State Journal and Statesman, June 17, 1862.) 35 The New Regime, March 11, 1864. The Mailed Fist 221 military governor. The general came out, accompanied by Mrs. Viele, and addressed the crowd briefly. Thereupon the Negroes marched out to the fair grounds, and thence to the cemetery, where they buried Jefferson Davis in effigy. 36 The resentment aroused by such scenes was accountable for a tragic incident. On the afternoon of June 17, 1863, a company of Negroes, under the command of a white officer named Sanborn, was marching down Main Street. Among the spectators was Dr. David M. Wright, a prominent physician, beloved because of his heroic work during the epidemic of 1855. Dr. Wright could not conceal his disgust, and ap¬ proaching Lieutenant Sanborn, with clenched hands, exclaimed: “Oh! you coward!” Thereupon, Sanborn halted, and turning to Wright said: “You are under arrest.” Maddened at the thought of having the Negro soldiers seize him and imprison him in the Custom House, Wright drew his pistol and fired twice at the officer. Sanborn staggered into Foster and Moore’s store, where he died. Dr. Wright was tried be¬ fore a special military commission and found guilty of murder. Al¬ though not approving of his rash act, the people of Norfolk considered the doctor, in a sense, a martyr to the Southern cause, and while he was awaiting execution, deluged him with delicacies. On one occasion he nearly escaped. His eldest daughter, Penelope, changed clothes with him in his cell, and not until he was hastening away was the ruse detected. President Lincoln approved of the findings of the court, and he was sentenced to be hanged. The execution took place at the fair grounds in the middle of the race track, on October 23, 1863. The Federal troops were posted in a square around the gallows, while thousands of spectators looked on from housetops, or stood on tiptoe in buggies, carts, and wagons. Among them, however, “few old citizens could be recognized,” for the better classes stayed at home. 37 Norfolk continued under military rule for thirteen months, in which time municipal affairs went from bad to worse. The public buildings fell into disrepair, the street lamps were broken, the fire equipment was stolen, the bridges became unsafe. In June, 1863, civil law was resumed, under the authority of Governor F. H. Peirpoint. When Virginia seceded in 1861, the people of the western part of the state, declaring this action of no effect, organized a government to replace 36 Virginia Gordan Scrap Book. 37 Ibid. While Dr. Wright was being conducted to the scaffold, the sound of wail¬ ing could be heard from various houses along the route. The doctor had made many friends by his work during the epidemic. During those terrible days in 1855 he contracted yellow fever, but was spared by fate for an even worse death. 222 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port the one at Richmond. They elected Peirpoint governor, chose a legisla ture, congressmen and senators, and received recognition from Presi dent Lincoln as the legal government of Virginia. Later, when Wesi Virginia w r as formed, Peirpoint made Alexandria his capital, and at once took measures to restore civil rule in the small part of Virginia under Federal control. In Norfolk the attempt was farcical. General Viele and Peirpoint permitted none save Union men to vote, and oi these there were not more than one hundred. 38 The mayor, council- men, and justices were, of course, hostile to the Confederacy, and many of them were Northerners. Eventually, some Southern sympa¬ thizers took the oath of allegiance, for no ministers, physicians, law¬ yers, merchants, and clerks in the stores, were permitted to pursue their vocations without it. They did so with the understanding that they were merely accepting amnesty, and not manifesting any change of heart. 39 “He [General Wool] tells them that unless they take the oath of allegiance, they shall have nothing to eat. . . . There is posi¬ tive suffering among the women and children of Norfolk. ... To every cry of distress, to every appeal for the observance of the ordi¬ nary humanities, to every demand for the usages of civilized war, this old man . . . has but one answer: ‘Take the oath of allegiance or starve!’ ” 40 It cannot be said that General Viele was popular in Norfolk, but the people looked back upon his rule as benevolent indeed after they fell into the hands of General Benjamin F. Butler. This officer, notorious because of his severity at New Orleans, regarded the Peir¬ point government with contempt, and ruled Norfolk almost as though no such thing existed. The provost marshal and the provost court took over the functions of the civil courts, and arbitrary orders were issued to levy taxes on business, open schools, inspect banks, and issue licenses to traders. In June, 1864, by the vote of the Union men in Norfolk, all of them in Butler’s power, he overthrew even the pretense of civil government, and restored the military regime. 41 Peirpoint was so enraged that he complained to the Secretary of War, and later to President Lincoln. Butler, he said, had not only been guilty of an unwarranted assumption of power, he had not only ignored the government of Virginia w'hich the President himself had 38 The New Regime, Aug. 23, 1864, Princeton University Library. 39 Virginia Gordan Scrap Book; Governor Peirpoint to the President (Washington, 1864) , p. 9. 40 Richmond Enquirer, June 4, 1862. 41 The New Regime, Aug. 23, 1864. The Mailed Fist 223 -ecognized, but his regime had been marked by tyranny and injustice. 42 “In November [1863] General Butler was appointed to the com- nand of the eastern district of Virginia and North Carolina,” wrote Peirpoint. “I sighed when I heard it—I remembered New Orleans. There was short rejoicing at Norfolk among the ultra Union men, 3ut in a short time the wail of woe came up. . . . Among the first irders . . . was one threatening punishment to any person who used my disrespectful language to any officer or soldier in the Union army, ^ext was an order directing all permits granted by his predecessors be eturned to him. Then came an order charging one per cent on all roods shipped into his military district, to go to the support of the Lrovost marshal’s fund. All vessels clearing from his district pay from ive to fifteen dollars. . . . Oyster men were taxed from fifty cents to me dollar per month for the privilege of taking oysters.” 43 If we may believe the governor, the Butler regime was as corrupt is it was oppressive. No man could do business without a permit from he military authorities, and permits were distributed to those who ffiered the highest bribe. “One man in Norfolk, who has been there wo or three years, has a permit, and says he got it in such a dis¬ graceful way that he is ashamed to tell how he got it. . . . The liquor msiness now stands thus in Norfolk: a few men from Boston and Lowell, Mass., have the exclusive monopoly of importing it into the ;ity. . . . You pay twenty-five cents per drink, two dollars for a bottle lolding three half-pints of common whiskey, and three dollars for a jottle of good. The restaurant keepers pay these Boston men three lollars per gallon for whiskey that costs in Baltimore from 95 cents o $i.o 5 .” 44 Butler’s conduct in relation to the Norfolk gas works was typical. He “seized the whole concern, and put them into operation himself, ilthough the president of the company assured him that he would . . supply all the gas needed. Yet General Butler sent to Lowell for 1 man and fixtures to repair at a cost of $10,000. ... I suppose the srofits go into the provost marshal’s fund. He sells the gas at nearly louble the price paid in Washington. ... A large amount of the stockholders are widows, old maids, and orphans—all their subsistence s taken from them. . . . Their slaves are all gone, and in the language 42 Private and Official Correspondence of General Benjamin F. Butler (Norwood, vlass., 1917) , III, 282-285, 321-324, 450-460; IV, 304-310, 431-434; Governor Peirpoint 0 the President, pp. 11-49. 43 Governor Peirpoint to the President, p. g. 4 i Ibid., p. 23. 224 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port of Dr. Cook, one of their number, they are only respectable vaga bonds, and must, many of them who were once wealthy, soon become objects of charity.” 45 ‘‘He refused to allow the company to bring coal to the city because the president and directors refused to take the oath of allegiance. He then declared gas to be a military necessity seized the works, and put his friends from Lowell, Mass., in posses sion.” 46 On March 7, 1864, an order was issued that every fourth dog in the Norfolk district be killed. This created consternation until it wa< learned that any owner could save his dog by paying two dollars for a license. ‘‘I met a soldier with a line around a little dog’s neck,” wrote Governor Peirpoint, ‘‘he was between a spaniel and the poodle— white wool—but dirty; his chin was close to the ground, his eyes up turned meekly, and wagging his tail gently as he went along.” A Negro standing on the sidewalk remarked as he passed, “Little doggie, if you don’t get two dollars, Marse Butler will take de wag out of your tail.” 4 ’ Perhaps the most heartless act of Butler was the seizure of the funds of the Howard Association, used to support children who had lost their parents in the yellow fever epidemic of 1855. “There are some twelve or fifteen of the orphans which are still a charge upon them [the Association], Last year they had a small surplus of interest which they devoted to the poor. . . . General Butler, with the same propriety and more, might seize the assets of Girard College, or that of any professorship in Harvard.” 48 “Ever since the Union troops occupied the city of Norfolk and Portsmouth,” the governor continued, “the military have had posses¬ sion of the ferry and boats between the two cities, using them for its own profit and benefit. . . . The receipts of the ferry before the war amounted to from $15,000 to $18,000 per annum.” All this money, to¬ gether with confiscated property, fines, the 1 per cent tax, the tax on oysters and dogs, clearances of vessels, etc., went to the provost mar¬ shal’s fund. “It is estimated by those who have pretty good oppor¬ tunity of knowing, that there has been collected since General Butler went to Old Point last fall, from two to three hundred thousand dol¬ lars into this fund. ... It is strange to me that such a system should have grown up whereby military commanders collect tens and hun- 45 Ibid., p. 24. 46 Burton, History of Norfolk, p. 216. 47 Governor Peirpoint to the President, p. 28. 48 Ibid., p. 29. The Mailed Fist 225 dreds of thousands of dollars into this post or provost marshal’s fund, which is held by men who give no bonds.” 49 Late in 1863 Butler sent General E. A. Wild, with two Negro regi¬ ments, on an expedition through Princess Anne, and northeastern Carolina, which practiced such severities that for years the people of those sections looked back upon them with horror. A Union man, a friend of Peirpoint, told the governor that for weeks afterwards, ‘‘he could stand on the portico of his house and trace the track of the raid for ten miles by the turkey buzzards, feeding on the carrion made by destruction of animal life. Union men and widows shared the same fate; all they had was taken or destroyed. . . . While near where Captain Coffee lives, General Wild came to the house owned by a man by the name of White, who was a captain in the Confederate service. General Wild arrested Mrs. White, the wife, as a hostage. . . . She was in a delicate situation. Her daughter, a young girl of about nine¬ teen years of age, stepped forward and said, ‘General, you cannot take my mother, take me.’ He took the daughter and set fire to the house, and burnt everything in it, with all the knickknacks of an expectant mother.” While on their way to Norfolk the troops happened to meet a regiment of New Yorkers, who were so outraged at the sight of a white girl marching along the road under custody of Negroes that they were on the point of rescuing her by force. But Miss White her¬ self interposed, stating that she had not been dishonored, and so was led off “to be imprisoned in the second story of Wild’s headquarters at Norfolk.” 50 A few days later General Butler reported: “General Wild took the most stringent measures, burning the property of some of the officers of guerilla parties, seizing the wives and families of others as hostages for some of his negroes that were captured, and appears to have done his work with great thoroughness, but perhaps with too much stringency.” 51 We have seen that some of the Federal officers at Norfolk had smoothed the way for Southern men and women to take the oath of allegiance by explaining that it meant no more than passive obedience to the United States government. Butler took a different view of the matter. “The oath of allegiance means fealty, pledge of faith to love, affection and reverence for the government,” he explained. So, ignor¬ ing the fact that love and reverence are not instilled by oppression 49 Ibid., pp. 47, 48. 50 Ibid., pp. 36, 37. 51 Correspondence of General Benjamin F. Butler, III, 26g. 226 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port and cruelty, he withheld his licenses from all whom he suspected c sympathy for the South. Business fell almost entirely into the hands o Northern men. 52 The Norfolk and Portsmouth schools were closec and a school for Negro children, conducted by Northern teachers, wa opened in their place. 53 “I am glad to learn from your letter that you ■ school has been closed since Christmas,” Butler wrote to a teacher ii Accomac, “and with my consent until you change your sentiments, ant are a loyal woman in heart, it never shall be opened.” 54 One day Butler sent for Dr. George D. Armstrong, one of the heroe of the yellow fever epidemic of 1855, and questioned him concernin; the spirit with which he took the oath of allegiance. “I regard Nor folk as for the present a conquered city,” he answered. “I wished, ii accordance with the scriptural injunctions, to obey the powers that be and I believed the United States to be the powers that be. I took th< oath with the intention of keeping it so far as my actions were con cerned. My feelings, of course, I cannot control. My words and action; I can.” Thereupon Butler subjected him to a quizzing to draw oui what his feelings were. “You said you looked upon the hanging oi John Brown as just and right because he interfered with the peace oi the country. . . . Would you look upon the hanging of the prominent rebel, Jefferson Davis, for instance, as just and right?” “I would not sir,” was the answer. “Are your sympathies with the Union or Con¬ federate cause?” “With the Confederates.” “You took the oath, sir, for the purpose of having the United States protect you while you should by your conduct and your life aid and comfort the rebels. . . . (To an aide) Make an order that this man be committed to the guard house, in close confinement, there to remain until he can be con¬ signed to Fort Hatteras.” 55 Later he wrote Secretary of War Stanton: “I do not consider that I am bound to feed and house a rebel at the expense of the United States without an equivalent. Therefore I di¬ rected that he should be put to labor.” 56 While Dr. Armstrong was thus working for his food and lodging, his pulpit was filled by the Rever¬ end C. L. Woodworth, chaplain of the Twenty-seventh Massachusetts Infantry. 57 On February 11, 1864, an order was issued placing all houses of 52 Ibid., Ill, 452. 53 Ibid., Ill, 459. 54 Virginia Gordan Scrap Book. 55 The New Regime, Feb. 24, 1864. 56 Correspondence of General Benjamin F. Butler, III, 56, 57. 57 Virginia Gordan Scrap Book. The Mailed Fist 227 public worship in Norfolk and Portsmouth under the control of the provost marshals. These officers were directed to see that the pulpits were “properly filled, by displacing when necessary, the present in¬ cumbents, and substituting men of known loyalty.” They were to see that “the churches are open freely to all officers and soldiers, white and colored, . . . and that no insult or indignity be offered to them, either by word, look, or gesture, on the part of the congregation.” 58 Two weeks later General Wild ordered the arrest of the Reverend S. H. Wingfield, of Portsmouth, for manifesting disapproval of the reading of the prayer for the President of the United States. The pro- yost marshal was directed to turn the minister “over to Colonel Saw- celle to work for three months cleaning the streets of Norfolk and Portsmouth, thus employing his time for the benefit of that govern¬ ment he has abused, and in a small way atone for his disloyalty and xeason.” 59 Butler’s detectives were spread over the city to report all who showed hostility to his regime or sympathy for the Confederacy. His officers, scorning “arrest warrants, search warrants, etc., did what they oleased, entered where they chose, and carried off anything they coveted.” 60 “Spies are as thick as flies in a sugar bowl,” wrote one ady. 61 When Governor Peirpoint visited the city in March, 1864, he ‘met men, who six months ago, stood erect and talked like freemen. . . But now the hand of oppression is upon them, they look de¬ jected, and disheartened. When they spoke to one of their troubles, t was far from the presence of anyone, and then in an undertone. When they came into my room to talk with me, they would look iround the room to assure themselves that there was no spy concealed, ind see that the doors were closely shut.” 62 It is not hard to understand he spirit of desperation which gripped the people. “I would be willing ;o be hanged for the sake of seeing dear old Norfolk free,” wrote one Norfolk lady. “I hope never to see another city given up. I would ather see my home laid in ashes than live as we are now living. What is wealth compared with freedom? . . . My hand trembles and ny blood boils with rage when I think of the scenes I saw yesterday it headquarters.” 63 ss ibid. 59 Ibid. On March 1, the remainder of Mr. Wingfield’s sentence was commuted to :onfinement at Fort Monroe. 60 Norfolk Journal, Aug. 4, 1868. 61 The New Regime, May 23, 1864. 62 Governor Peirpoint to the President, p. 4g. 63 Virginia Gordan Scrap Book. 228 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port We catch a glimpse of the suffering of some of the old families oi Norfolk from a letter written by Mrs. Munroe Winthrope, in April 1864. “I have made $7.00 lately,” she states, “and I wanted to bu} about seventy things with it. But alas! it would not be persuaded but to supply two wants, that is, to repair my watch that has been sileni for three years, and to purchase a few pairs of stockings. ... I havt bought two new dresses for each of us, but one of them is not paic for yet. Now we are in need of shoes. There is a great deal of suffering among our people who have no income and have exhausted theii money. . . . Many are privately selling furniture. Those who have been in affluence are reduced to the utmost. . . . The smallpox fi very bad and very fatal. At the pest house white persons and negroes often occupy the same bed, which has increased the aversion to the place.” 64 Still more vivid is the picture of Norfolk during the last year of the war from the pen of a visitor. “The city looks gloomy,” he says, “the people for the most part sullen. ... Of the houses, one-fourth appear to be unoccupied, having been deserted by their inhabitants. ... A part of these have been seized by the government for storage purposes; of some, the newly arrived mechanics from the north have taken pos¬ session; in others the freedmen and their families have squatted. Nc repairs are perceptible on any hand. Those which were burned or have since crumbled to ruin, are suffered to remain so. In spite of the cold blasts of winter, there is still a lamentable lack of glass in the windows. Sadness and gloom, if not despair, have settled upon both people and houses. Broken glass, crumbling walls, opening roofs, creak¬ ing doors, and general dilapidation follow disappointed hopes. ... I left Norfolk as sad as the large company of women, both white and black, standing in front of the commissary’s office to receive rations for the support of their families, as sad as the hundreds of ladies I had met draped in the weeds of mourning, as sad as the winds which howl through the deserted habitations of the hundreds of secession¬ ists.” 65 When the Norfolk soldier, whether marching into Maryland and Pennsylvania, or bivouacking in the field, or facing the enemy, got word of the sufferings of the loved ones at home, it steeled him to meet the hardships and dangers of his life. Perhaps, as he swept on to victory at Chancellorsville, or hurled back the Union troops at Cold 64 The New Regime, April 26, 1864. 65 Ibid., May 23, 1864. The Mailed Fist 229 Harbor, or at Spotsylvania, visions rose before him of wife and chil¬ dren, insulted and abused by Wild or Butler and their Negroes. No troops in the Confederate army had a finer record than those from Norfolk. Individuals were scattered in the regiments and batteries of various states—South Carolina, North Carolina, Alabama-—but the larger number went into the service of Virginia with old Norfolk companies, or with new organizations formed to defend the city in 1861. The Norfolk Junior Volunteers became Company H of the 12th Virginia infantry; the Independent Grays and the Woodis Rifles en¬ tered the Sixth Virginia, as Company H and Company C respectively, together with three new Norfolk companies, which became Companies A, D, and G. Both regiments entered Mahone’s brigade. The Norfolk Tight Artillery Blues, under Captain C. R. Grandy, had an especially distinguished career, fighting nobly at Seven Pines, Oak Grove, Second Manassas, Sharpsburg, Fredericksburg, Chancellorsville, Gettysburg, the Wilderness, Spotsylvania, and Petersburg. The Huger Battery, the United Artillery, and the Atlantic Artillery also fully upheld Nor¬ folk's honor. The Sixth Virginia, comprising in addition to the five Norfolk com¬ panies, two companies from Princess Anne, one from Portsmouth, one from Manchester, and one from Chesterfield, had a distinguished career. Colonel William Mahone was in command until with his pro¬ motion to brigadier general he made place for Thomas J. Corprew. In April, 1862, Colonel Corprew in turn was succeeded by Colonel George T. Rogers. The regiment remained near Norfolk until Feb¬ ruary, 1862, when it was ordered to Currituck Bridge, to protect the Albemarle and Chesapeake canal and to cover the retreat of General Wise from Roanoke Island. Wise brought it back to Great Bridge, where it remained until the evacuation of Norfolk. On May 10, 1862, the troops filed into town over the drawbridge, bade a hasty goodbye to wives and children, and entrained for Petersburg. 66 The regiment was then posted along the James River, to assist the batteries to block the passage of the Federal gunboats, and so was not with the rest of Mahone’s brigade at the battle of Seven Pines. 67 During the retirement of McClellan’s army from the Chicka- hominy to the James, the Sixth fought continuously. On one occasion, on the Charles City road, when the first battalion was sent forward to engage the enemy, the second battalion mistook them for Federals and 66 Companies G, H, and I joined the regiment at Petersburg. 67 Porter, A Record, pp. 279-280. 230 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port fired upon them from behind. In this unfortunate affair twenty-eighl men were killed or wounded. The Sixth was heavily engaged at thf battle of Oak Grove, on June 25, and again on July 1, at Malvern Hill. At Second Manassas it took part in the famous charge of Mahone’j brigade, which aided so materially in hurling Pope’s army back upon Washington. 68 Perhaps the most gallant action of the Sixth was at Crampton Gap. Lee had crossed the Potomac early in September, 1862, dispatching Jackson to capture Harpers Ferry and open communications with the Shenandoah Valley. Unfortunately, an intercepted dispatch revealed his plans to McClellan, who thereupon moved westward to the South Mountains in Maryland, with overwhelming forces, to place himself between the two Confederate commanders. The peril was very great, for should the meager forces in the mountain gaps give way, the re¬ treat of Lee’s men would be cut off. General Cobb, in command at Crampton’s Gap, received orders to hold on, “even if he lost his last man in doing it.” So the brigade, now but eight hundred strong, resisted hour after hour the assaults of Franklin’s entire corps. The enemy were repeatedly repulsed, relates Captain James H. Toomer, of Portsmouth, “leaving the ground blue with their dead and wounded. After three hours hard fighting we were flanked on both our right and left, and order was given for the regiment to fall back. . . . Pulling ourselves up by laying hold of branches of trees and climbing from ledge to ledge, with the music of Minie balls continually in our ears, we suc¬ ceeded in getting safely over the mountain. When the brigade re¬ formed in Pleasant Valley, only four in our company and 17 in the regiment answered to their names.” The sacrifice of the Sixth was not in vain, however, for its gallantry had not only made possible the capture of Harpers Ferry, with twelve thousand five hundred men, but the juncture of Lee and Jackson at Sharpsburg. 69 The regiment, after being reorganized and recruited, continued to fight throughout the war. Over and over Lee called upon it, now to storm a battery, now to repel an attack, now to relieve some shattered detachment, and always the men responded gallantly—at Chancel- lorsville, in the Wilderness, at Spotsylvania, Cold Harbor, North Anna River, Hanover Court House, Turkey Ridge, Second Frazier’s Farm, Wilcox’s Farm. At the Crater only eighty-five members of the regiment were in camp when the Federal mine was set off under the 68 Ibid., pp. 281, 282. 69 Ibid., 283-286. The Mailed Fist 231 Confederate works. These men fell in with the rest of the brigade, and, hastening to the breach, were in the thick of the engagement. At the roll call after the battle, it was found that only ten had escaped, thir¬ teen being killed, fifty wounded, and twelve missing. Such were the men who returned to Norfolk in the spring of 1865, bearing the parole of General Grant. They were received by their families and friends with reverence and affection. Even the Northern men who had moved to Norfolk honored them for their bravery and treated them with respect. Not so Butler’s provost marshal. By his or¬ der they were arrested on the street, dragged before him, and there “in the presence of gaping, motley crowds of negroes and whites,” he cut the buttons from their uniforms. 70 The people of Norfolk accepted the outcome of the war in good faith, were ready to come back into the Union as loyal citizens, were willing, even happy to be rid of the curse of slavery, 71 but the bitterness occasioned by the unnecessary cruelties of the three years of Federal occupation has hardly yet died out. The name of Butler will ever be infamous in Norfolk. 70 Stewart, History of Norfolk County, p. 100. 71 Norfolk Journal, Jan. 4, 1867. CHAPTER ELEVEN The Black Cloud 1 he people of Virginia, in the days immediately after Appo¬ mattox, gave little thought to the political future of the state. They were too deeply concerned with procuring food for their families, repairing their homes, laying out crops, and plowing their fields. But there were some who wondered whether Virginia would remain long under the military rule, or whether the President and Congress would permit Peirpoint to establish civil government. In either case, it seemed unlikely that the mass of the people would have any part in the conduct of affairs, for the new constitution, adopted by the Alexandria convention of 1864, had limited the suffrage to Union men. However, after President Johnson had recognized Peirpoint, his legislature passed an enabling act, permitting former Confederates to vote. In Norfolk the civil courts resumed their jurisdiction, the po¬ lice, the fire companies, the ferries, the town finances were restored to the municipality, and an election was held in which Thomas Tabb was chosen mayor. Butlerism and the mailed fist seemed things of the past. With an honest governor at Richmond, with no immediate fear of Negro suffrage, it seemed that the people could ignore politics amid the vital task of restoring the prosperity of the state. They were not long in discovering their error. The legislature made the mistake of passing a stringent vagrancy law, intended to put an end to idleness and petty larceny among the Negroes. This, together with the desire of the Republican national leaders to gain permanent control in Virginia, was largely responsible for the refusal of Congress to recognize the state government or seat their senators and congressmen. Thaddeus Stevens, in his demands that the suffrage be accorded the blacks and taken away from “dis¬ loyal” whites, found a ready echo from a group of Virginia Radicals. These men. headed by the carpetbagger John C. Underwood, met in The Black Cloud 233 convention at Alexandria and petitioned Congress to overthrow the Peirpoint government. They watched eagerly the battle between Johnson and the Radicals in Congress, in the hope that the President’s defeat wonld make them masters of Virginia. In the meanwhile they tried to win over the Negroes, by assuring them that their only hope of justice lay in the success of the extreme group of Republicans, both in Congress and in the state. At this time Norfolk had an abnormally large black population, since during the war hundreds of slaves had fled there to the protection of the Union troops. A Federal officer in January, 1866, reported that “in the neighborhood of Norfolk, Fortress Monroe, and Yorktown, about 70,000 negroes have been collected during the war.” 1 Under the tutelage of Northern officers, Northern businessmen, and Northern teachers, the freedmen had learned to demand equality with the whites. In 1864 they had celebrated the abolition of slavery in Vir¬ ginia by the Peirpoint convention, 2 and now, on January 1, 1866, they observed the anniversary of Lincoln’s Emancipation Proclamation. A long procession, directed by mounted marshals and decorated with tricolored scarfs, formed on Bute Street and marched through the town. In the lead was the band and two companies of the Twentieth New York infantry, followed by various Negro organizations—the Sons of Houn, Humble Sons of God, Zion’s Sons, Hebrew Union, Inde¬ pendent Society—with a long line of Negro citizens in the rear. 3 Although the Northern troops remaining in Norfolk acted officially as the protectors of the blacks, hostility developed between individual soldiers and the freedmen. The Northerners, while according the Ne¬ gro a degree of social equality, were more intolerant than the South¬ erners of his characteristic weaknesses. Whenever a bluecoat off duty wandered down to Little Water Street or other parts of the town where the Negroes were concentrated, there was apt to be trouble, perhaps bloodshed. On June 22, 1865, a number of soldiers, armed with pistols, rocks, and bricks, swarmed through this district, terrifying the blacks, and raiding several of their disreputable dance halls. 4 The Ne¬ groes vowed revenge. The next day scores repaired to near-by woods, where they cut hundreds of bludgeons, several feet long and heavy enough to fell an ox. That night, as they moved down Main Street to the guard house, muttering threats against all “white trash,” they en- 1 J. P. McConnell, Negroes in Virginia, 1865-1867 (Pulaski, Va., 1910), pp. 48, 49. 2 Virginia Gordan Scrap Book; The New Regime, March 13, 1864. 3 Norfolk Post, Jan. 2, 1866. 4 Ibid., June 29, 1865. 234 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port countered a lone soldier and set upon him. Although the man seized one of the bludgeons and knocked down his nearest assailant, he would have fared badly had not a group of his fellow soldiers come to the rescue. The soldiers charged, scattered the blacks, and took six or seven prisoners. Later in the evening a group of Negroes fired on some soldiers at the circus grounds, wounding one in the leg. Thereupon, his comrades formed a mob and set out for Roanoke Square, felling every Negro who came in their path. After an unsuccessful attempt to break into the dance hall, they scattered a few blacks on Union Street and retired to their barracks. The police were not numerous enough to cope with riots of this kind, so that Mayor Tabb called upon General Mann to preserve order with his troops. With armed sentinels posted through¬ out the town, something like order was now restored. 5 But several months later, when the Thirtieth regiment of Negro troops passed through Norfolk on their way to Baltimore, a pitched battle with members of the Twentieth New York was narrowly averted. 6 These riots were represented in the Northern press as unprovoked attacks on the Negroes by Norfolk whites. The better classes in Nor¬ folk felt this injustice keenly, for they had no animosity toward the blacks and were anxious to maintain peaceful relations. In the riots many had offered shelter to individuals when pursued by the mobs of soldiers. Yet the demoralization of the times, the tendency of the freed- men to turn liberty into license, and the fear of carpetbag control in government, made a clash of the races possible at all times. On April 16, 1866, the Negroes celebrated the passage of the Civil Rights Bill. A procession formed in Market Square and marched through the principal streets in orderly fashion. At the corner of Bute and Dock streets a few bricks were thrown at the marchers, but there was no serious trouble until they arrived at the field where the speaking was to take place. Here somebody fired a pistol, and when the only police¬ man in sight attempted to make an arrest, the Negroes, many of them discharged soldiers, resisted with arms in their hands. In some way, a young Confederate veteran, named Whitehurst, became involved in the melee and was pursued by the Negroes to his father’s house near-by. Here, while standing in the doorway, firing at the mob, he accidentally shot his step-mother. The Negroes rushed in upon him, seized him, and were beating him with palings 5 Ibid., June 26, July 7, 1865. 6 Ibid., Dec. 18, 1865. The Black Cloud 2 S 5 when two of their marshals on horseback interposed. These men were leading Whitehurst down the street between them, one holding him by the collar, the other by the hair, when he was shot down from behind. A few minutes later order was restored by the arrival of Major F. W. Stanhope with Federal troops. But the whites were now thoroughly aroused, and that night armed bands roved the streets, killing several Negroes and wounding others. 7 Such incidents, duly misrepresented in the Northern press, served only to strengthen the hands of the Radicals in Congress. The fear of the Northern people that the fruits of the war might yet be lost, together with the antagonism aroused by the tactlessness and in¬ temperate utterances of President Johnson, gave Stevens and his group a sweeping victory in the elections of 1866. Thus fortified, they proceeded to reconstruct the South according to their own views. The Peirpoint government was swept aside, Virginia was made into Military District Number 1, and General John M. Schofield placed in command with instructions to summon a convention to draw up a new constitution. In making out the list of voters the act required that all Negroes be admitted, and that persons who had held Federal offices prior to the war and later aided the Confederacy should be excluded. When the registration was completed, it was found that 120,101 whites and 105,832 blacks had qualified, apparently leaving the control with the former. Unfortunately, however, the Negroes were so distributed as to have a majority in most of the counties, and, upon a strictly racial division, could count on fifty-eight delegates in the convention to forty- seven for the whites. In the city of Norfolk the black voters numbered 2,049 and the whites 1,910. It was a time of foreboding and despair in Virginia. “What is the use of struggling?” men asked each other. “Congress is determined to ruin and degrade us, and even if we rescue this convention from the carpetbaggers and negroes, will find some other way of forcing its tvill upon us.” In Norfolk the Radicals nominated Henry M. Bowden, md a runaway slave who for some years prior to the war had prac- :iced dentistry in Boston, named Thomas Bayne. The Conservatives lamed Colonel Gilbert C. Walker and Dr. W. W. Wing. Walker, a native of New York, was president of the First National Bank of Nor¬ folk. His business ability, his interest in the welfare of the city, and his .ionesty of purpose, had won the confidence of all. However, from :he first the Conservatives had little hope, for the carpetbaggers and 7 Executive Documents, 1866-67, Vol. XI, Norfolk Riots. 23 6 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port scalawags, with the assistance of the Union League, had organized the blacks into a solid political phalanx. October 22, when the elec¬ tion was held, was a gala day for these simple souls. Long before the hour for opening the polls, they gathered in crowds at the booths, waiting to cast their ballots as their Northern friends had instructed them. Throughout the morning carriages were kept busy bringing in the blacks from distant parts of the city, and by two o’clock almost the entire Radical vote had been polled. On the other hand, many whites refused to vote, and Bowden and Bayne were elected by substantial majorities. How distinct the Radical alignment was, is shown by the fact that only nine whites voted for Bayne, and only six blacks for Wing. 8 As went Norfolk, so went Virginia. Of the one hundred and five delegates for the convention, thirty-five were Conservatives, sixty- five were Radicals, and five were doubtful. The Radicals counted twenty-five Negroes, fourteen native Virginians, thirteen New York¬ ers, and thirteen more from other Northern states or from foreign countries. 9 Such was the body, which on December 3, 1867, assembled in the Capitol at Richmond, where for decades the representatives of the old aristocracy had debated the affairs of Virginia. As the work of drawing up the constitution proceeded, the Negroes, under the leadership of Bayne, more than once threatened to desert their white allies. Bayne was disgruntled over the refusal of the convention to place white and black children in the same schools. Finally one of the leading white radicals turned upon him sharply. “He makes no recognition of any white man,” he said, “but wants a party ... to be composed entirely of colored men, in order, as I suppose, as he thinks, that he might be the leader and head of them.” 10 But the former slave frankly avowed his desire to place the Negro in control of the state. “The colored race, Mr. President, have always been leaders in all de great revolutions of history, and they do say that it w'as de black man w’ho drove Jeff Davis out of Richmond,” he declared. “Certain it is that a negro-so-called led (now he didn’t follow, mind that) the attack on de British troops on State Street, in Boston, and this was de commence¬ ment of de Revolutionary war, and if this black man had not led de whites on to victory, I spects there wouldn’t have been no Revolution¬ ary war at all, and you would still be groaning under the British 8 Burton, History of Norfolk, p. 114. 9 Richard L. Morton, The Negro in Virginia Politics (Charlottesville, 1919) , p. 50. 10 Debates of the Constitutional Convention of Virginia, i86j (Richmond, 1868), P- 545- The Black Cloud 237 yoke.” 11 Enlivened by touches of this kind, the convention proceeded with its work, and in April, 1868, reported a constitution enfranchis¬ ing the Negroes and disqualifying the vast majority of white men from holding office and many from voting. General Schofield, with his usual sound sense, pleaded for moderation, but he succeeded only in bringing down upon him the denunciations of the Radicals. Bayne yelled out that he "wa’nt gwine to be timidated by no general, and dat it would be a pretty ting to go home and say dat de convention was skeered of de General.” 12 While the convention was still in session, civil government was partly overthrown and many offices filled by military appointees. In April, 1868, Mayor John R. Ludlow, John Williams, city register, R. Q. Drummond, city collector, and others, having refused to take the ironclad oath, were removed from office. 13 The few who could take the oath, Northern men, most of them, were held over. The military authorities then appointed Francis DeCordy, mayor; A. D. Campbell, city treasurer; O. M. Dorman, judge of the corporation court; and W. T. Harrison, president of the common council. These men were not mere political adventurers, seeking personal gain and plunder. Most of them, though not native Virginians, had made Nor¬ folk their permanent home, held real estate there, and were deeply interested in her advancement. 14 This was fortunate indeed, for there was urgent need of energy, foresight, and wisdom. The city treasury was empty, a debt of nearly two million dollars hung over the people, taxes were high, the police were inefficient, there was no water works. Although, in the two years they were in power, it was impossible for the military appointees to rectify all these evils, they gave the city an efficient administration and earned the gratitude of the people. 15 But the rule of Northern businessmen was quite a different thing from the domination of Negroes, carpetbaggers, and scalawags, threat¬ ened by the new constitution. The people of Norfolk made it clear that men who came among them to invest capital and start legitimate enter¬ prises were welcome. “It is the paper-collared, half-shirted, mean, low carpet-bagger, who is lured to us only to get offices here, which his worthlessness at home forbade his even aiming at there, who cheats and humbugs the poor negro out of his money and his vote ... it is to 11 Norfolk Journal, Jan. 13, 1868. 12 Ibid,., April 20, 1868. 13 Ibid.., June 2, 1868; Burton, History of Norfolk. 11 Norfolk Journal, June 26, 1868. 15 Burton, History of Norfolk, p. 131; Lamb, Our Twin Cities, p. 35. 238 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port this class of Northern men to whom we object and are hostile.” 16 Yet this was the class who would rule, should the constitution be adopted. So the white men began to organize what they called the Conservative party to save the state. Forgotten were the old quarrels of Democrats and Whigs, to some extent even the quarrels of Union men and Con¬ federates; it was now a question of white rule or black. So early as December 11, 1867, a convention met in Richmond to organize the Conservative forces. Walker was selected as one of Nor¬ folk’s delegates, but he refused to serve on the grounds that the movement was premature. 17 But as the farcical work of the convention proceeded and it became obvious that the carpetbaggers and Negroes were seeking, not political equality, but complete supremacy in the state, Walker turned from them in disgust. He could but agree with the Norfolk Journal when it stated the issue as follows: ‘‘The simple question before the people is this—are we to have our State officers and our judiciary filled by intelligent white men of character, or are we to have all our officials, from the Governor to the coroner, com¬ posed of negroes and their radical friends, our Legislature of the same, our judges radical pettifoggers, our magistrates negroes, and our children forced into mixed schools, or denied the privileges of educa¬ tion?” 18 ‘‘Organize! organize! organize at once!” urged the Journal. ‘‘Let the people appoint committees in every ward in our cities, in every precinct in our counties. There never was such an issue presented to Virginia as the present.” 19 On the evening of April 28 a great throng assembled before the City Hall to listen to Colonel J. W. Hinton and other Conservatives. The mass of upturned faces, the glare of bon¬ fires, the deafening applause, showed that the whites of Norfolk were aroused to the need of united action to save the state. 20 The next day Hinton, John Goode, and others went up to Great Bridge, where they spoke to a gathering in Berea Church. After describing the new constitution, Hinton called out, “Will you ratify it?” “Never! never!” the crowd roared back. “I thought so,” said the speaker. 21 The Conservatives nominated Colonel R. E. Withers for governor to oppose the carpetbagger H. H. Wells. On July 3, 1868, Withers 16 Norfolk Journal, Sept. 2, 1868. 17 Ibid., Dec. 5, 1867. 18 Ibid., March 10, 1868. 19 Ibid., April 18, 1868. 20 Ibid., April 29, 1868. 21 Ibid., April 30, 1868. The Black Cloud 239 visited Norfolk. A stand had been erected in front of the courthouse, for a vast crowd was expected, but a pouring rain drove the assem¬ blage in doors. Here all who could secure seats or standing room listened indignantly while the speaker dwelt on the iniquity of the constitution. In conclusion he advised them to cast their votes against ratification, stating that it was better to remain forever under military government then to fall into the power of carpetbaggers and scala¬ wags. 22 As for the Negroes, it was for them a time of hardship and suffering, but of glorious anticipation. Refusing steady work, many wandered about the streets, picking up chance jobs, sawing wood, putting away coal; the women and children in rags, gathering sticks and junk. “Idle, shiftless, wretched, and nearly naked,” they found their con¬ solation in listening to harangues, holding secret political meetings, and joining in parades. Of these there was an abundance. The struggle between the Negro leaders and the scalawags and carpet¬ baggers, begun on the floor of the convention, was continued with great bitterness in Norfolk. Opposed to the noisy Bayne were Lucius H. Chandler and the obnoxious carpetbagger James H. Platt. Chan¬ dler, a native of Maine, had come to Norfolk in 1850, where he at¬ tained success as a lawyer and politician. At the outbreak of the war he had thrown in his lot with the Union, receiving as his reward an appointment as United States district attorney. His loyalty, his repu¬ tation for honesty, and his close Southern affiliations made him the outstanding candidate for Congress in the Second District in 1865, and he was elected with the support of Democrats and Republicans alike. Now, however, with the people divided into Radicals and Con¬ servatives, he alienated his white friends by throwing in his lot with the carpetbaggers and Negroes. 23 Late in April, 1868, certain Radical leaders held a convention at Suffolk to propose a candidate for Congress. Bayne appeared in com¬ pany with a group of his black supporters, but the whites excluded him. They then proceeded to nominate Chandler, while the irate Bayne, ranting on the outside, denounced their action as irregular and of no effect. 24 A few days later the Negro dentist spoke from the City Hall steps to an enthusiastic gathering of blacks, declaring that they had been tricked and must refuse to vote for Chandler. 25 In the mean- 22 Ibid., July 4, 1868. 23 Norfolk Landmark, April 18, 1876. 24 Norfolk Journal, April 29, 1868. 25 Ibid., May 1, 1868. 240 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port while, the Platt men were also working against Chandler. When th< state radical convention met at Petersburg, with from fifteen hundrec to two thousand delegates, most of them Negroes, it soon becamt obvious that Platt held the whip hand. The Suffolk delegates re ported the action of their meeting, but the convention voted dowr Chandler’s name with howls of derision, and then proceeded to nomi nate Platt. 26 Platt was no more acceptable to the Norfolk Negroes than Chan dler, for they were almost entirely under the influence of Bayne, and Bayne wanted the nomination himself. Every attempt of the Radical organization to force them into line failed. Since Chandler, too, re fused to abide by the decision of the convention, night after night City Hall green resounded to the speeches of the three factions. On the evening of May 19 a pitched battle between the Chandler and Bayne men was narrowly averted. A crowd of Negroes had jammed into the court room expecting to hear Bayne speak, and were inclined to make a disturbance when they found Chandler in possession of the floor in the midst of a long-winded address. The Chandler men, on their part resented the interruptions and the calls for Bayne, so that Mayot DeCordy found it necessary to threaten to arrest the first man whc offered violence. In the end he awarded the floor to Bayne, and the dentist launched forth on one of his characteristic jumbles of reli¬ gion, politics, and Negro rights, while Chandler had to finish his address on the outside. 27 The opposing forces met in wordy combat again, during the Negro celebration of the Fourth of July, 1868. An excursion train arrived from Petersburg, bringing Platt “with all the scalawags, carpet¬ baggers, negroes, and cur dogs he could rake up.” This motley crowd, joining the Norfolk Negroes, repaired to the City Hall green to listen to the speakers. Chandler began with a bitter address, abusing the whites of Norfolk, who had ostracized him since his defection to the Radicals, and advocating equality of the races and mixed schools. J. Par¬ ker Jordan spoke next, and then Platt. But feeling ran so high between the factions that Bayne, with most of the Negroes, drew off from the crowd, and marching out to Linsey’s Gardens, held a meeting of his own. 28 A few days later, when Bayne was about to take a steamer at City Point for Norfolk, he was violently assaulted by a group of 26 Ibid., May 4, 1R68. 27 Ibid., Mav 20, 1868. 2S Ibid., July 7, 1868. The Black Cloud 241 Negroes, probably at the instigation of Platt, knocked down a long light of stairs leading to the wharf, and severely injured. When he arrived in Norfolk the next morning, battered and bruised, he was escorted to City Hall Square, where his friends took turns in thunder¬ ing against the Chandler and Platt ruffians. 29 Two days later the Platt action had another inning, when a Negro named Givens spoke at :he City Hall, roundly denouncing Bayne and his two white lieuten- mts, Sykes and Smith. 30 By this time the blacks had become highly excited, and political gatherings were almost daily occurrences. Black orators, some of them farmer slaves, and unable to read and write, stood on the City Hall oortico, giving vent to high-sounding, meaningless phrases. 31 In the nidst of this hubbub, when the blacks were being victimized by un¬ scrupulous leaders, they received one bit of sound advice from a real iriend. Early in August, General O. O. Howard, head of the Freed- nen’s Bureau, visited Norfolk, and spoke first at the Bute Street Methodist Church, then at the old Baptist Church, and finally at the Baptist Church at Catharine and Charlotte streets. He told the Negroes that they must get to work, save money, educate their chil¬ dren, and keep their houses clean. 32 But they were not ready for such advice. They were looking forward to political supremacy in the state, perhaps to the distribution of the property of the whites, and disillusionment was not yet at hand. In the meanwhile, General Schofield had advised Congress, in sub- aiitting the new constitution, to permit the people to vote sepa- -ately on the clauses which disfranchised so many whites. This would pve the state an opportunity to restore civil government, saddled vith Negro suffrage, it is true, but with the white vote almost intact. \ committee of nine prominent Virginians, who visited Washington :o interview the President and the leaders in Congress, agreed to this arrangement as the best the state could expect, 33 while Gilbert C. Walker and other influential Northerners residing in Virginia urged it upon President Grant. Accordingly, having been so authorized by Congress, Grant named July 6, 1869, as the date for the election, ind ordered those sections relating to the test oath and disfranchise- 29 Ibid., July 10, 1868. 30 Ibid., July 13, 1868. 31 Ibid., July 25, 1868. 32 Ibid., Aug. 6, 1868. 33 Alexander H. H. Stuart, Popular Movement in Virginia in 1869 (Richmond, 1888) , pp. 28-58. 242 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port ment to be voted on separately. The giving of the vote to the Negroes was bitterly resented, but the people had to accept this phase of the constitution in order to save the remainder of their political fortunes. The moderate Republicans had already nominated Walker to oppose H. H. Wells, the Radical candidate for governor, and Colonel Withers withdrew in his favor. 34 A short but exciting contest followed. On May 12, Walker was wel¬ comed in Norfolk, where he was acclaimed Virginia’s only hope. Although the whites expected to carry the state as a whole, and per¬ haps win in the Second District, it was obvious that the vote in Nor¬ folk would be very close. General Canby, who was now in command in Virginia, by a revision of the lists had so reduced the white majority in the city that a handful of carpetbaggers and scalawags might turn the scale. On the other hand, the Radicals were weakened by their factional disputes. Not only were Bayne and Platt still in the field, but in Norfolk alone there were two Negro candidates for the state Sen¬ ate, and three for the House of Delegates. The Conservative candidate for the state Senate was Colonel W. H. Taylor; the two candidates for the House, A. S. Segar and W. H. Burroughs. Each party strained every nerve to enlist its full strength. On June 24, the last day for the registration of voters, the Journal made an earnest appeal to the whites. “To-day, if the true men of the city will register, all will be saved. . . . To-day, the best and dearest inter¬ ests of every freeman in Norfolk hangs upon the discharge of duty, which his duty to his wife, children, home, friends, and country, points out as the only path of safety. To-day you aid in freeing your State from the vile influence of hired, itinerant demagogues, or you bind Virginia with manacles. ... We are requested to say whether we prefer to live henceforth as free men or in subjection to an in¬ ferior and ignorant race, under the guidance of corrupt and degraded leaders.” Despite the intense excitement, practically no violence attended the election in Norfolk, for all the saloons were closed and policemen guarded the polls. The Negroes had the first inning, swarming around the booths in the early hours, before going to work, and voting in a solid phalanx. Later in the morning the whites began to arrive in an ever-increasing stream so that by twelve o’clock the Conservatives led by 220 votes. But the battle was not yet over. With the sounding of the noon-day whistle black voters poured in from the warehouses and 34 Morton, The Negro in Virginia Politics, pp. 66-73. The Black Cloud 243 wharves in such numbers that at nightfall it was impossible to tell vhich side had won. 35 It was only the next day that it became certain hat in the local voting the Radicals had been generally successful. Not only did Wells carry the city by 2,094 votes to 2,014 for Walker, but Crane defeated Segar for congressman-at-large. On the other land, Goodwin, the Conservative candidate for Congress for the Second District, came off an easy victor, while the Radicals split their rote between Bayne and Platt. 36 The successes of the Radicals in the city were forgotten upon eceipt of the news that in the state as a whole the whites had won a preat victory. Although the constitution had been adopted almost rnanimously, the objectionable clauses had been voted down; Walker tad defeated Wells by 119,535 to 101,204; and the Conservatives had von forty-three seats in the Senate to thirteen for the Radicals, and linety-six in the House of Delegates to forty-two for the Radicals. Dnly twenty-seven Negroes were elected to the Legislature, six in the ienate and twenty-one in the House. 37 Norfolk Conservatives cele¬ brated. On the evening of July 7 a great crowd assembled on Main Street before the Journal office to listen to A. S. Segar and other Con¬ servative leaders. The mass of upturned faces, the glare of the bonfires ighting up the street from Granby to Church, the deafening applause vhich greeted the speakers, testified to the intensity of feeling. Later he crowd fell in behind Weisdorf’s band and marched down the street o the Atlantic Hotel, where they called for the governor-elect. When Valker appeared on the Granby Street balcony, a fine figure of a man, ix feet in height, the picture of health and vigor, he was greeted vith deafening cheers. He congratulated Virginia upon her deliver- mce from “vampires and harpies,” and promised an honest, capable dministration. As he concluded, amid immense applause, the band truck up “Dixie,” and the crowd surged back to the Journal office, here to listen to still more addresses. 38 The Norfolk papers were profuse in their praise of the Northern ,nen for their part in the victory. “Almost every man of Northern jjirth who settled here since the war has aided in the glorious work of edemption,” said the Journal. “All honor to them. . . . We wish for nore such men, not tens, but hundreds.” 39 But now, as the people I 35 Norfolk Journal, July 7, 1869. 36 Ibid.., July 19, 1869. 37 Morton, The Negro in Virginia Politics, p. 77. 38 Norfolk Journal, July 8, 1869. 39 Ibid. 244 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port settled down to the regular routine of life, the realization came tha they had yet to win control of the city government. Another bittei struggle lay ahead. The new Constitution required each city of fiv< thousand or more to hold elections on the fourth Thursday of Ma; for mayor, judge, clerk, sergeant, commonwealth’s attorney, treasurer and other officers. Since in the recent election the Radicals had car ried the city, the whites had good reason to regard the future witl apprehension. Fortunately, about two hundred white men were en franchised at this time by the removal of disabilities, and this reversec the small Negro majority in the city; but the margin was small a' best. 40 Ten months of comparative quiet ensued, while Norfolk remainec under the able direction of Mayor DeCordy. Then, on April 22 1870, the Journal sounded the tocsin by urging the Conservatives tc register. “If you fail in this duty,” it warned, “our city will surely fal under the control of the Radical gang.” 41 The people, once mon thoroughly aroused, responded with such good will that the registra tion books showed a white majority of 171. 42 This was encouraging but it by no means made a white victory certain, for with the carpet bag and scalawag vote subtracted from the white column and addec to the list of black voters, no one could predict the result. One* more the white Radicals, lured on by the hope of lucrative city jobs set to work to organize the blacks; once more the City Hall resoundec to the oratory of Bayne and Dilworth and Jordan. Typical of these gatherings was that of May 14, 1870, when the hustings court room was jammed with the Negroes and their friends The meeting was proceeding quietly as J. Parker Jordan was dilating on the needs of Negro education, when someone called out: “Hov many Negroes did you ever sell?” An uproar followed, and then would undoubtedly have been a free-for-all fight, had not Mayor De Cordy jumped upon a chair and roared out a command for silence “The first man who disturbs this meeting, black or white, I will sene to jail,” he said. This brought forth cheers, and the speeches con tinued. 43 The “black and tan” party nominated Peter Dilworth for mayor while the Conservatives named John B. Whitehead. 44 As election da) 40 Ibid., Aug. 16, i86g. 41 Ibid., April 26, 1870. 42 Ibid., May 11, 1870. 43 Ibid., May 16, 1870. 44 Ibid., May 14, 18, 1870. The Black Cloud 245 ipproached the Journal continued to harp upon the momentous is¬ sues involved. A black victory means the “subordination of property, mtelligence, and industry to pauperism, ignorance, and sloth. It neans the debasement of Christian civilization and of Anglo-Saxon enterprise beneath the heels of Fetish Superstition and African un¬ shrift. It means negro magistrates on your bench, negro policemen m your streets, negro legislators in your councils . . . negro com- nissioners in your schools.” 45 On the evening of May 23, the whites aeld a monster demonstration, in which over two thousand men aaraded the streets, shouting for Whitehead, and bearing aloft trans- aarencies with significant mottoes. “White schools for white children,” 'ead one, “Scalawags for office, negroes to vote,” said another, while a hird showed the Radicals hugging the Negro before election and kicking him afterwards. A band from Richmond led the parade, vhich wound in and out of the streets, amid the glare of fireworks md the cheers of the crowd. 46 The election was marred by one serious incident. When two Negroes ipproached the polls to vote the Conservative ticket, they were at¬ tacked by a group of their fellow blacks. The whites rushed to their escue, and in the riot which ensued one Negro was shot in the hip ivhile trying to slash a white man with a razor. With this exception he voting proceeded in an orderly manner. The outcome was a de¬ risive victory for the Conservatives, Whitehead defeating Dilworth, Thomas W. Pierce being elected city clerk, Thomas T. Cropper com- nonwealth’s attorney, Joseph M. Freeman treasurer. The Radicals rad to content themselves with the commissioner of revenue, the nspector of streets, the clerk of the market, the keeper of the alms- rouse, and five whites and four blacks in the city councils. Mayor Whitehead took his seat at noon on July 1, 1870, and Reconstruction, ;o far as Norfolk was concerned, was practically a thing of the past. The bitter memory of the struggle remained for many years, how¬ ever, affecting party alignments and even personal relations, for the reople of Norfolk were not quick to forgive those who had deserted he white man’s cause in the hour of need. It was this, perhaps, which Vas responsible for a tragedy which shocked the community in the pring of 1876. On the morning of April 6 Lucius H. Chandler dis- tppeared from his home, leaving no hint as to his whereabouts. Al- hough his family gave the alarm promptly and a careful search was 45 Ibid,., May 20, 1870. 46 Ibid., May 24, 1870. 246 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port made, ten days passed and still no trace of the missing politician coulc be found. At five o’clock on the morning of April 17, a Negro namec Tyler left his home to take oysters in the river. Unfastening his boai from the pile to which it had been tied, he got in, took the oars and pushed off. At this moment the body of a man moved from undei the boat, and floated toward shore. In alarm Tyler rowed ashore anc calling a white man to his assistance, removed the body from th< water. It was Chandler. That the unhappy man had committee suicide was made evident by the discovery in his pockets of five heav\ cobblestones. 47 Such was the end of the man who once had possessec the universal esteem of the people of Norfolk, but who had com mitted the unpardonable sin of aligning himself with the blacks at 1 time when white supremacy hung in the balance. 47 Norfolk Landmark, April 18, 1876. CHAPTER TWELVE The New Order Ijike all other Southern cities, at the conclusion of the Civil Var Norfolk was prostrate. She had escaped the complete destruction diich had been her lot in the Revolution, but her commerce was at a dw ebb, her tributary railways broken, her finances deranged, her treets out of repair, her citizens impoverished. To her sons who came rudging home from the war, she seemed desolate indeed. “But for he occasional appearance of an idle white vagabond, sauntering long the wharf, gazing wistfully into the water,” said one observer, we should have imagined ourselves wandering amid the ruins of a ost city.” 1 Recovery was rapid, however. The broken railways were repaired, he river and bay steamers resumed their regular schedules, and, /ith the final assurance that the whites would remain in control of he state and the city, capital began to emerge from its hiding places. Northern men who made Norfolk their home during or immediately fter the war aided materially in the revival of business. Some assessed wealth, others had valuable business connections in the ■Jorth, still others aided solely by their enterprise and acumen. All dio devoted themselves to business and kept aloof from Radical >olitics received a hearty welcome. The municipal government fell nto the hands of honest, able men, and progress became the order >f the day. So early as 1865 a movement was started for a new water supply. To the more enterprising citizens existing conditions were intoler- ble. “How can we attract manufacturers,” they asked, “if we have tot the water essential for their needs? How can we ask capitalists to ettle among us, and partake of contaminated water from our cisterns nd wells? How can we insure public health by means of a sewerage 1 Norfolk Journal, Dec. 6, 1866. 248 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port system, unless we have water in abundance?” The Norfolk Post d< dared that “half the cisterns and nearly all the pumps ran dry durin the summer,” and people have to borrow water even for cooking pu poses. 2 “Just imagine, ye advocates of pumps and cisterns, the coi tents of such inconvenient receptacles.” We ourselves saw taken fror the old well on the corner of Main and Nebraska streets, “four copic of the old Index, any quantity of tin-pots and kettles, several infantil genus canine, one old tabby, and boots and shoes accordingly.” 3 None the less, the “Old Fogies,” closing their ranks, fired broac side after broadside in the papers. “These people have water on th brain,” declared “Common Sense,” “but, I, for one, can’t see th point. We have a very good supply of water and every time it rain 1 it is freshened and the supply renewed.” 4 Another scribe, signing hiir self Madison, wished to know “what is the use of talking of a luxur which is to cost $1,000,000 to a people that haven’t got the money?” The controversy waxed doubly hot when Mayor Tabb announce* that he would place the matter before the voters on October 12 1865. 6 If one ventured on Main Street, he found the people discussim water, if he entered Beardsley’s to enjoy a game of billiards or partak of a bowl of oyster soup, water was the all-absorbing topic. At Tuttle’ soda fountain, in the parlor of the Atlantic, the saloon of the Ns tional, at Sangster’s, the post office, the Custom House, in the photo graphic saloons, in Freemason and Granby streets, at Town Point water was the unceasing topic of conversation. The night before thi election the advocates of good water formed a procession, led by th* band of the Thirtieth Illinois Regiment playing “The Juniper Quick step.” Behind came the fire companies with torches, followed b’ decorated wagons and citizens bearing transparencies with such in scriptions as: “Sacred to the memory of the town pump,” “Junipe will be our greatest blessing,” “Vote for the new drink—water,’ “Mix Juniper with your whiskey to prevent chills.” 7 The next da 1 the “Old Fogies” were overwhelmingly defeated, and the governmen was empowered, by 451 votes to 149, to borrow five hundred thou sand dollars to erect the water works. 8 Unfortunately the city’s credit was low, and so difficult did it prov* 2 Norfolk Post, June 23, 1865. 3 Ibid., Aug. 19, 1865. 4 Ibid., June 29, 1865. 5 Ibid., July 1, 1865. 6 Ibid., Sept. 22, 1865. 7 Ibid., Oct. 12, 1865. 8 Ibid., Oct. 13, 1865. The New Order 249 0 float bonds that the matter had to be postponed. But a severe brought in the summer of 1869, with the attendant shortage of drink- ng water, brought matters once more to a crisis. With the cisterns oing dry, with well water brackish and unwholesome, with many epending upon barrels left out to catch an occasional shower, the ry for immediate action became insistent. “For five years we have road Creek, at Moore’s Bridges, they said. The stream at this point ,/as brackish from the ebb and flow of tide water, but by building a lam across the creek, a sufficient supply of pure water could be had. lowever, since the new basin would have to be dredged and dyked nd ditches cut in the near-by marshes to bring in the water, they onsidered the two Bradford lakes, near the shore beyond Little Ireek, as the best source. Here the water basin was already made, he water excellent, the supply adequate for present and future leeds. 11 William J. McAlpine, who made a thorough study of the situation nd reported in February, 1871, came to an entirely different con- lusion. Believing that the Princess Anne lakes and creeks would trove inadequate for a growing city, he thought that the water should }e brought from Lake Drummond or from the Nansemond River. r he belief that the juniper water from the lake was so highly charged 9 Norfolk Journal, Oct. 5, 1869. 10 Virginius Freeman, H. W. Williamson, and John F. Dezendorf. 11 Merchants and Miners' Exchange, Report, 1869, pp. 78-83. 250 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port with tannin as to corrode iron, he denied vigorously. “The lock-gate of the feeder were taken off a year since,” he said, “after having beet in the water directly from Lake Drummond for twenty-three years The wrought iron clamps, spikes, etc., were found to be so littli oxidized that they were all used in the new gates.” With a supply o pure water sufficient for a city of a million people, the greater cos of the Lake Drummond plan should not influence the councils t( reject it. “The streams at Moore’s Bridges and the lakes beyond wil furnish a supply for a population of 50,000,” he said, “and when th< city increases beyond this demand, all of the expenditure . . . wil be lost.” 12 After a careful consideration of McAlpine’s report, the council decided to draw their water, neither from Moore’s Bridges nor Lak( Drummond, but from Deep Creek, a tributary of the Southerr Branch. The contract was let to William H. Allen and Co., and tht work of laying down pipes begun. 13 This, however, was a palpabh infringement upon the rights of the Dismal Swamp Canal, and wher that body protested, 14 the city turned to the Moore’s Bridges plan. 1 A few months later the -work had been completed, and the watei began to course along the conduit and throughout the city. But now that the people had water at their very doors, they were slow to avail themselves of it, many continuing for twenty years or more to depend upon cisterns. In January, 1874, only 185 connections had been made, 15 * while so late as 1893 the Chamber of Commerce reported that some rain-water cisterns were still in use, although “almost en¬ tirely out of date.” 16 However, for the time being the vexed watei question had been settled. But now another vital need intruded itself on the public attention. Norfolk was a city devoid of hills; so, after heavy rains the water, instead of running off, stood in pools in the streets or in vacant lots. With the completion of the water works, and the draining into the gutters of the waste from hundreds of spigots, this nuisance became intolerable, and the cry for a system of sewerage and street drainage 12 W. J. McAlpine, A Supply of Water, reprinted in Norfolk’s Water Supply (Norfolk, 1904), pp. 33, 36, 58, 59. 13 Norfolk Journal, Jan. 10, 1872. 14 Ibid., Feb. 8, 1872. 15 Ibid., Aug. 6, 1872. 18 Lamb, Our Twin Cities, p. 40; Borum, Norfolk, Port and City, p. 24. On Jan. 1 1875, there were 535 connections, a year later 771, and on Jan. 1, 1877, the numbei was 955. From time to time the supply was increased by tapping lakes adjacent tc Moore’s Bridges—Lake Lawson, Lake Smith, and Lake Bradford. The New Order 25 1 ;rew insistent. “If existing conditions continue,” it was said, “we our- elves will be to blame if the city is swept by pestilence.” Matters :ame to a head in 1878 with the news that Memphis was in the grip >f an epidemic of yellow fever. Norfolk did not wish another visita- ion of that dread disease, so a noted civil engineer was employed and 1 system of drains and sewers was adopted. 17 There were to be twenty- fight miles of iron, stone, and terra cotta pipes, connected with a great :esspool from which sewerage was pumped into the harbor. 18 But the vork progressed very slowly, and in 1887 it was stated that the system was “still incomplete, many of our important thoroughfares being in 1 state of sad upheaval, giving full opportunity for our people to firjoy the winter’s mud.” 19 No feature of the new drainage system was more welcome than the dimination of the last remnants of Back Creek, between Bank and Sranby streets. For some years after the Civil War the imposing City Tall looked out to the west over what the Journal called a “great, bestiferous, noisome, odorous, odious, and unsightly marsh.” 20 On the ;ast the marsh extended from Plume Street almost up to Freemason, but further west it was so narrow that Granby Street crossed it on an old stone bridge. 21 It had been suggested repeatedly that this area should be filled in to enlarge City Hall Square. Not only would this remove a menace to health, but it would fill the long-felt need of 'a park. Year after year passed, however, and nothing was done. Finally, in 1881, an enterprising citizen, A. A. McCullough, “took hold of the matter on his own responsibility and account, and trans¬ formed the old cesspool into a busy mart of real healthy business life.” 22 In this way sixty acres were added to the city, which were soon covered with stores, warehouses, and residences, but the opportunity for a park in the heart of the old section of town was lost. Mr. McCullough, in redeeming the land on either side, had made no effort to eliminate the old ditch from Bank to Granby, to which Back Creek was confined. With the adoption of a sewerage system this eyesore was removed. In 1884 the canal was replaced by a four foot underground iron culvert, the space filled in with shells, 23 and a wide 17 Norfolk Journal, Feb. 18, 1882. 18 Borum, Norfolk, Port and City (1893), pp. 25, 26. 19 Lamb, Our Twin Cities, p. 59. 20 Norfolk Journal, July 21, 1871. 21 Ibid., July 29, 1869; Oct. 20, 1872. 22 Lamb, Our Twin Cities, p. 54. 23 It may well be said that the people of Norfolk have been raised on oysters, and the city itself on the shells. 252 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port boulevard constructed from the City Hall to Granby. The old Granb Street Bridge was removed, the street there graded, and the marshe to the west filled in to the edge of the canal. 24 Today as motor coache and automobiles rumble over the wide surface of City Hall Avenue! few indeed realize that the site was once occupied by a creek deep enough for navigation, that where now stand tall office buildings, bus’ slaves once loaded or unloaded produce at their masters’ wharves During and immediately after the Civil War the streets of Norfoll fell into disrepair. The condition of Main Street was described a wretched, while Water Street, from Jackson to the Lorillard Steamship wharf, was a quagmire. 25 In 1887, when the city finances were much im proved, the work of repairing was begun. 26 In Main Street, save at th( eastern end, the old cobblestones were removed, and Belgian block substituted. 2 ' In the course of time this work was pushed in other part; of the city, until, in 1896, of Norfolk’s thirty-two miles of streets, eight een were permanently paved with stone. It was far from a pleasant ex perience to jostle over the cobbles of the business section, and the fash ionable denizens of Freemason doubtless preferred shopping on foot tc venturing over them in their carriages. But for the country people who brought their produce to market, the stones were far preferable to mud. 28 That the parking problem was not born with the auto mobile is shown by the frequent complaints against the farmers foi blocking traffic on Main Street, their carts often extending all the way from Granby Street to Church. After 1870, when the councils forbade this practice, the farmers for a time “parked” on Union Street, but the police were lax in enforcing the law, and the line of carts eventually reappeared on Main. 29 The spirit of improvement next demanded electric street lights. It was a long cry from the day when Norfolk marveled at the first twinkling gas jets, for gas lights were now out of date. In February, 1883, the mayor placed the matter before the councils, and before the close of the year a number of arc lights were in operation. Many of the old gas lamp posts long remained like sentinels of a by-gone day, but their picturesque lamps were dark. By 1888 the Electric Light Company of Virginia was providing one hundred and ninety-two pub- 24 Lamb, Our Twin Cities, p. 64; Norfolk Journal, April 8, 1884. 25 Norfolk Journal, Dec. 10, 1873. 26 Ibid., January 4, 1877. 27 Lamb, Our Twin Cities, p. 78 . 28 Borum, Norfolk, Port and City, p. 25. 29 Norfolk Journal, Sept. 15, 1872. The New Order 253 lie arc lights and the old City Gas Light Company one hundred. The time when brawling sailors or drunken Negroes could break a head in the darkness of Norfolk’s many narrow lanes was gone forever. The return of peace found Norfolk still trusting to volunteer fire companies for protection against conflagrations, the Aid Fire Com¬ pany, the United Fire Company, the Flope Hose Company, and the Hook and Ladder Company. There was one “steam” engine, the Gen¬ eral B. F. Butler. But the organization was imperfect and the equip¬ ment antiquated, and when Chief Folger tested the engine, in August, 1865, with water pumped from Roanoke dock, several sections of hose burst. 30 Later the General B. F. Butler was removed to Fort Monroe, md its place taken by a new and better engine. 31 Still fires continued, ind the dread of a widespread conflagration hung always over the city. The completion of the water works afforded a protection from fire, in itself worth the money spent on this project. Unfortunately, it was n July, 1872, while the workmen were still laying pipes, that a severe conflagration swept the fire-trap section of Main Street, from Market Square to Union, destroying property valued at $250,ooo. 32 It was with |,t deep sense of relief, then, that the crowd looked on at a fire in February, 1874, while the firemen poured in a stream of water from me of the new mains. As the hissing steam arose and the flames died lown, a great shout went up, in recognition of the fact that an im¬ portant victory had been won over one of Norfolk’s most deadly enemies. 33 In 1876 the Fire Corps consisted of Chief Thomas Kevill, m assistant, and three companies, each with a steam engine, a fire- jnan, and a driver, and a number of extra men. Kevill received $60 a rionth, the firemen $20, drivers $70, and extra men $10 each. 34 Twenty years later the corps comprised fifty-one men, all receiving a egular salary, while the equipment embraced “five steamers, two of hem new; two hook and ladder trucks, five hose carriages, thirteen t orses, and a chemical engine.” 35 When the Federal authorities withdrew the provost guard from te streets of Norfolk in 1865, the little police force proved entirely ncapable of maintaining order. With the Negroes demoralized, with loldiers on leave thronging the streets at night, with the usual groups 30 Norfolk Post, Aug. 15, 1865. al Ibid., Jan. 31, 1866. 32 Lamb, Our Twin Cities, p. 38. 33 Norfolk Landmark, Feb. 17, 1874. 34 Burton, History of Norfolk, p. 219. 85 Borum, Norfolk, Port and City, p. 27. 254 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port of sailors seeking excitement, there should have been thirty-five o forty men constantly on duty. Instead there were six. “Thirty year ago one captain and two policemen were enough,” pointed out th< Post. “At that time a man could stand in the center of the city anc throw a stone to its corporate limits, if it did not strike the water Now the limits join Springfield,” and a large force is necessary. 3 Throughout 1865, conditions grew worse. Crowds of idle boy thronged Main Street by day, sailors, vagrants, and Negro women a night; certain parts of the town were infested with notorious dance houses, collisions between soldiers and Negroes were frequent; hold ups and burglaries became nightly occurrences. On the evening of July 4, a young man named William Martin was attacked by George King, a Negro of giant proportions. 'While z crowd of blacks stood by crying “Kill him! Murder him!” King slashec Martin’s neck with a razor, and the white man was saved only by the timely arrival of a policeman. On the same night an officer wa: scuffling with a drunken sailor, when two other tars came to the aid oi their comrade. Thereupon Little Water Street poured forth a horde of blacks, anxious to get into the melee, and it was only with the arrival of the guard that something like order was restored. 37 In January, 1866, the Post complained that thugs and garroters hac. instituted a reign of terror on the streets. Among the victims were Joseph G. Fiveash, knocked down and robbed by white ruffians or; Freemason Street at Catharine; Charles E. James waylaid on Granby near Main; George Griffen, attacked by thugs on Catharine Street. 31 On February 4 George Brown was attacked on Holt Street, but felling one assailant and shaking off another, he made good his escape. 31 The same night burglars entered the house of R. G. Broughton, Jr. at 155 Bute Street. “The police ought to know every man in Nor folk,” complained one editor, “and should be able to spot garroters and house-breakers, as fast as they arrive.” But the robberies con tinued until times were more settled and improved finances made ii possible to increase the police. In 1877 there was a force of forty-two men under the leadership ol Chief C. C. Benson. By this time holdups were less common, bui trouble was still frequent with disorderly sailors who came ashorf to visit the “havens,” concert halls, saloons, and variety halls. At an) 36 Norfolk Post, Oct. 4, 1865. 37 Ibid., July 6, 1865. 3 S Ibid., Jan. 22, 1866. 39 Ibid., Feb. 5, 1866. The New Order 255 moment the noise of quarreling from the gaming houses, or of open battle from some dark alley, might give warning that Jack was making trouble. And though the Negroes were more orderly than in the first months of their freedom, individual offenses were still frequent. On the other hand, there was no organized crime in Norfolk. In 1887 the police force, under Chief Joseph A. Pollard, numbered fifty-four, all uniformed and equipped like the police of New York City, while in 1896 the number had mounted to sixty-five. 40 Norfolk was one of the first cities in the South to inaugurate a system of public schools. The legislature passed an act authorizing public schools in Norfolk as early as 1850, but it was only in 1857 that the system was actually put into operation with Thomas C. Tabb as superintendent. Four years later came the Civil War. The ensuing demoralization, the depletion of the city treasury. General Butler’s dismissal of all teachers refusing to take the oath of allegiance, and the proposal to associate white and black children in the same schools tended to discredit public education. Gradually, however, with the return of prosperity and the passing of the fear of Negro control, the people began to regard it with more favor. In 1874, when W. W. Lamb was superintendent, there were four schools for whites, with sixteen teachers, and 526 pupils; and two Negro schools with eight teachers and 359 pupils. 41 But adequate buildings were still lacking, and often the school rooms were crowded. In 1878 the school com¬ mittee assigned to each room four pupils in excess of the number of seats, explaining that four was the average number of absences. In the next few years substantial progress was made, however, and in 1893 the city could boast of ten school buildings, five of them new, with thirty-eight teachers. The first high school was opened in 1894. Superintendent K. C. Murray, grasping the urgent need for more advanced work, won over the city to this step in the face of violent I opposition. The Hemenway School, at Park and Lovitt avenues, was purchased, a staff of five teachers engaged, and on September 15, 1894, classes were begun. In 1899 there were twelve public school houses in Norfolk, with a total of sixty-five rooms; fifty-four white and eleven Negro teachers; and a total of 3,343 pupils. 42 In the meanwhile, the old Norfolk Academy had been experiencing many vicissitudes. During the Civil War it had been taken over by the 40 Burton, History of Norfolk, pp. 221, 222; S. R. Borum, Norfolk and Its Environs (Norfolk, 1896), p. 27; Norfolk and Portsmouth (1888) , p. 32. 41 Norfolk Landmark, Jan. 27, 1874. 42 Stewart, History of Norfolk County, p. 182. 256 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port Federal troops and used for a hospital. When the Norfolk Post in September, 1865, urged that the property be returned to its owners. 1 as the need for a preparatory school was urgent, 43 the government complied willingly. The building was renovated, equipment hastily supplied, and teachers engaged, and in October the academy was re¬ opened with the Reverend R. Gatewood as principal. 44 In 1877 the city council attempted to take over the property for use as a public high school, claiming that the land upon which the academy stood had been donated to the trustees for public education, and that the school owed certain sums to the city. This effort met with failure, however, and the academy, continuing as a private school, entered upon a new period of growth and usefulness. In 1882 Robert W. Tunstall, a gradu¬ ate of the University of Virginia, was elected principal, and under this able organizer and teacher the curriculum was recast, well-trained teachers were engaged, and adequate equipment was added. In 1893 the attendance was 136. 45 In November, 1865, the first number of the Norfolk Virginian was issued. This paper, which fell in 1867 under the management of Michael Glennen, exerted a widespread influence in eastern Virginia. Mr. Glennen was one of the first Southern editors to plead for reconciliation with the North after the Civil War, and was largely responsible for the participation of the Federal government in the Yorktown centennial and for the first parade in which Confederate veterans and United States troops marched side by side. On March 31, 1898, the Virginian was merged with the Daily Pilot, and has continued as the Virginian-Pilot, one of the best edited papers in the South. The Public Ledger, an afternoon paper, appeared first on August 3, 1876, and was later merged with the Dispatch into the Ledger-Dispatch, a large and up-to-date paper. The Journal was first issued in 1866, and after a short but useful career was merged with the Landmark. This paper, under the able editorship of Captain James Barron Hope, known as “Virginia’s poet laureate,” long played an important role in the life of Norfolk. The typical Norfolk residence of the period from 1865 to 1885, although lacking the charm of the Moses Myers house and other early homes, had the merit of extreme simplicity. It was built usually of brick, and abutted directly upon the street. There was always the 43 Norfolk Post, Sept. 8, 1865. 44 Ibid., Oct. 9, 1865. 45 Borum, Norfolk, Port and City, p. 28. The New Order 257 little portico, with its two columns, its flat roof, its railing, its long flight of steps leading down to the street; two basement rooms, used for dining room and kitchen; two rooms above; two in the second story with halls and stairs on one side. There were no window screens, no central heating plant, no bathroom, no gas pipes, no electric wires, no telephones. However, these modern conveniences were widely adopted in the last decade of the century, together with the highly ornate architecture and furniture of the mid-Victorian period. The residential streets in 1865 must have presented a quiet and not unpleasing spectacle. “The houses, though ancient, are beautiful, picturesque, and the abodes of wealth and refinement. The streets are lined with huge trees, planted more than too years ago,” while the gardens are “filled with the rarest, most fragrant, and many colored flowers.” 46 Twenty years later the appearance of the older streets was much the same. The old houses, the broad sidewalks, the hitching posts, the long lines of shade trees, the blooming gardens, the pedestrians in the quaint dress of the day, perhaps an open car¬ riage drawn by two fine horses, combined to give an impression of quiet dignity and charm. A visitor to Norfolk in 1887 was struck by the beauty of some of the older residences. “The side-walks are skirted with trees, the front yards . . . are ample and gladden the eye with their green carpets; the buildings are all of brick and are large and roomy. . . . Wide stone steps lead up to the hospitable-looking doorways. All, with one exception, have porticos which show that the Virginian of old not only studied the classics, but also made his knowledge useful, for the first has Ionic columns, the second Doric, and the third Ionic.” On the opposite side of the street was another charming old residence. “A handsome porch with Corinthian columns is the leading feature of this building, and two quaint and curious-looking brick erections at each limit of the front grounds give it quite a feudal appearance.” 47 Main Street, twenty years after the war, presented a varied and interesting scene. The buildings were uniformly of brick, three stories high, with shops on the first floor, and offices or storerooms above. On the north side was an endless row of canvas awnings, protecting from the sun the wares piled up for display on the sidewalk. In front of many stores were wooden images—an Indian gripping a bundle of cigars, or a man in long coat and high hat carrying a suitcase. Most 46 Norfolk Post, Aug. 14, 1865. 47 George I. Nowitzky, Norfolk (Norfolk, 1888), pp. 58, 59. 258 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port of the signs were affixed to the front walls of the buildings, but many jutted out over the sidewalks. Over the rough cobblestones jostled an endless procession of country carts laden with meat, vege¬ tables, fish, oysters, or chickens; low-slung wagons, drawn by mules, and piled high with boxes and bales; or now and then a horsecar, clanging vigorously for the right of way down the middle of the street. “The street is utilized for the display of the best office, com¬ mercial and hotel buildings in the city,” says a visitor in 1887. 48 Strolling down Main Street from west to east, one would have been struck first by the new addition to the Atlantic Hotel, stretching 250 feet from Randolph to Granby. The Atlantic, which had its main entrance on Granby, was built in the French chateau style, with large, airy windows, pilasters on its front, and a row of flags waving from its mansard roof. 49 Opposite it, on the corner of Main and Fayette, was the Hare Building, its gold-lettered signs gleaming in the upper windows. Beyond it was the new Dodson Building with its marble front, the home of the cotton exchange and the Citizens’ Bank of Norfolk. A little farther east the old Custom House, “a noble link with the ante-bellum days,” faced up Granby Street. Next to this building was the St. James Hotel (then called the Vir¬ ginia) , built in 1879, a plain structure, devoid of beauty. “Hugging the St. James, in what appears a most Christian-like manner,” was the Y. M. C. A., “the most showy edifice in the city.” Across from the Cus¬ tom House, on the eastern corner of Granby and Main, was the Ames and Stevens furniture building. Proceeding farther east along Main Street, one would notice on the north side the Lowenburg stores, the Academy of Music, and three of Norfolk’s most important banks, the Bank of Commerce, the Norfolk National, and the Marine. The time-honored Purcell House, on the southeast corner of Church and Main, marked the end of the commercial district. From here east the business houses gave way to substantial residences, until the street terminated at the Norfolk and Western railroad station. 50 Market Square at this time was described as “the busiest and most 48 Ibid., p. 25. 49 Lamb, Our Twin Cities, pp. 73, 78. The original Atlantic Hotel was located at the corner of Main and Atlantic (then Gray) streets; it was destroyed by fire on Jan. 8, 1867. The new Atlantic Hotel was then built on Granby at Main and re¬ opened Oct. 8, 1867. R. S. Dodson, who took over the hotel in 1871, added the wing on Main Street ten years later. The new Atlantic was in its turn destroyed by fire on Jan. 31, 1902. Burton, History of Norfolk, pp. 106, 112, 140; letters of Col. E. Griffith Dodson to the editor, Jan. 18, March 20, 24, 1961. 50 Lamb, Our Twin Cities, pp. 78-80; Nowitzky, Norfolk, pp. 25-34; letter of Col. E. Griffith Dodson to the editor, March 20, 1961. The New Order 259 crowded place of the same area in Virginia or the Carolinas, for not only does most of the population of Norfolk and suburbs do their marketing and shopping here, but the two ferries” at one end, and the streetcar line at the other, pour in a continuous stream of human freight. ‘‘The huckster-stands and market wagons filled with the choicest of vegetables from the great truck-farms of Virginia and North Carolina; the fish-stands; . . . game from the marshes of Cur¬ rituck Sound, Chesapeake Bay and the great Dismal, is a sight worth seeing. ... In the fruit line we have everything from an egg to an apple, fresh fish, alive and kicking, plums, blackberries, whortle¬ berries, raspberries, cherries, etc. ... It is pleasant to walk through this great center of attraction about five o’clock in the morning, to view the luscious fruits, and listen to the haggling of exacting huck¬ sters and butchers with economical housewives. . . . Much human nature can be seen in a market house.” 51 On Saturday nights the scene was made picturesque by “hundreds of smoking, glaring torches.” Then it was that the wandering mer¬ chants stood up in their wagons to harangue the crowd. Some dilated on the virtues of the soap which would “even remove the stains from the character of a New York ‘boodle alderman’; or medicine that will cure every disease from corns to consumption; or microscopes with which a man can look through a foot plank; or cement that will mend anything from the main shaft of an ocean steamer to a broken heart.” 52 Church Street in the eighties had “a blending of everything in the shape of habitations upon its long and crooked length . . . churches, synagogues, hospitals, grave yards; dry goods, boot and shoe, furni¬ ture, and grocery stores; meat markets, stables, liquor houses, bars, undertaking establishments, human hair stores, junk stores, alligator- tooth jewelry establishments.” Here one encountered the Odd Fellows’ Hall; beautiful old St. Paul’s Church, dense masses of ivy clinging to its walls; the Central Presbyterian Church; St. Vincent de Paul Hos¬ pital, and finally Lesner’s Garden. This popular resort is described as “a zoological garden, and also a flower garden,” where visitors could wander among the trees, fountains, ponds, flowers, and shady bowers, or gaze in wonder at the line of cages filled with wild animals. 53 As for the water front it was as busy and picturesque as ever. 51 Norfolk Post, June 22, 1865. 52 Nowitzky, Norfolk, p. g2. 53 Ibid., pp. 34-42. 260 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port “As I crossed over from Portsmouth on the ferry boat, the city of Norfolk stood before me,” wrote a traveler in 1887, “her buildings so densely massed that I could scarcely trace a single street. . . . Her substantial looking wharves, fringed with the tall masts of stately ships and the smoke-stacks of a fleet of steamers; further back the solid walls of the warehouses and stores that line her water-front; and above them all a grand display of spires, towers, pinnacles and domes.” Upon landing the visitor marveled at the vast variety of goods piled up on the wharves and in the warehouses—huge blocks of stone from Tennessee, marble from Italy, oranges from Florida, rice from South Carolina, iron ore from southwest Virginia, steam en¬ gines from New York, plate glass from Paris, lime from London, tons of coffee from Brazil, tea from China, fish from the Chowan River, cotton from Alabama. 54 Everywhere were busy merchants and clerks, and scores of perspiring Negroes engaged in loading and unloading the steamers and sailing vessels. “Here is life with a dash of foreign and strange in it all along shore,” says another observer, “with a spice of brine and pungence of bilge and oakum and tar. . . . Ships and barks and barkentines, brigs and brigantines, and schooners and sloops; steamships and steamboats, towboats and toy launches, yachts, pilot-boats, racing- shell, cat-boats, and ‘bug-eye’ canoes, rafts even, enormous Naval cruisers, and little revenue cutters, clippers and old tubs, ‘lime juices’ and ocean tramps . . . discharging, loading, under tow and in dock. . . . There are lights to guide shipping on every point; buoys marking the channel; fog-bells and sirens, stentor throated and tempest tuned. Wharves—cotton wharves, with compress yards and warehouses and platforms behind; coasters’ wharves, . . . stave wharves like India Dock; coal wharves, truck landings, oyster and fish landings; ferry slips; wood wharves; lumber wharves; shipyard and ship railways, and float¬ ing docks.” 55 Norfolk, despite its rapid growth after the war, occupied but a frac¬ tion of the area included in the present limits. In 1872 the town was squeezed in between Smith’s Creek on the north and Newton’s Creek to the east. Brambleton had but a few scattered houses, Atlantic City was a separate village, while a trip down Church Street to Hunters¬ ville brought one out into the open country. One branch of Smith’s Creek extended out to Elmwood Cemetery, the other past the site of 54 Ibid., pp. 12, 51, 52. 55 Borum, Norfolk, Port and City, p. 21. The New Order 261 Stockley Gardens, while between were farms and woodland. Newton’s Creek was a broad body of water stretching from the A. M. & O. station to Princess Anne Road, and from Bermuda Street to Park Avenue, crossed by Noe’s Bridge and Lovitt’s New Bridge. 56 On July 1, 1887, Brambleton was annexed to Norfolk. This suburb was formerly owned by George Bramble, his farm extending from the creek to Mississippi Inlet. In 1856 he sold fifty acres to the Norfolk and Petersburg railway, retaining 145 acres for his own use. Part of this land he put under cultivation, but much remained a wilderness of scrub oaks and chinquapin bushes. In 1870 E. H. C. Lovitt, as executor for Bramble, sold part of the land, and soon thereafter the Queen Street causeway (later to become Brambleton Avenue) was constructed, streets laid off, and lots placed on sale. In 1872 the Campostella bridge and the Holt Street bridge were built, while two years later Park Avenue was opened to Princess Anne Road. For the first time in the history of Norfolk, the town could be entered from the east by any save the old Church Street route. After this Bramble¬ ton grew rapidly. “Bath houses were built on Campostella bridge; boat and tub races were organized, and a band played in summer evenings in the grove at the end of the Holt Street bridge.” In 1886 there were 840 families in the new community, with three churches, a public library, and lodges for several fraternal orders. In later years Newton’s Creek was in large measure filled in, chiefly with millions of oyster shells, and Brambleton lost even the appearance of isola¬ tion. 57 Another flourishing suburb was Atlantic City, near the site of old Fort Norfolk. This was a thriving little community, “with its variety of industries and many small stores.” 58 In 1872 Atlantic City was connected with the city by two bridges, one to York Street, and the other to Botetourt Street. Here was the Norfolk Knitting and Cotton Manufacturing Company, several outposts of the lumber trade, and a number of concerns engaged in the oyster business. 59 In February, 1890, Atlantic City, together with a large tract of adjacent territory, was annexed to Norfolk. 60 For many years after the Civil War Norfolk theatergoers continued to patronize the old Opera House, in Odd Fellows’ Hall, on Church 56 Norfolk Journal, Oct. 20, 1872. 57 Lamb, Our Twin Cities, pp. 53, 114-116. 58 Nowitzky, Norfolk, p. 43. 59 Lamb, Our Twin Cities, pp. 52, 89, 90. 60 Stewart, History of Norfolk County, p. 331. 262 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port Street. The building was “in the mediaeval English style, which rejoices in a grand display of great windows and pinnacles.” 61 In this period, as in earlier days, the people always patronized liberally even mediocre performances. In June, 1865, when members of the crew of the British warship Styx presented Black-Eyed Susan, the heavy mas¬ culine heroine, who showed little regard for her h’s, came in for gen¬ erous applause. 62 Several weeks later Kate Fisher appeared in the French Spy , 63 followed by The American Cousin, The Taming of the Shrew, Waiting for the Verdict, Jack Cade, and Youthful Days of Richelieu. Jean Hosmer proved quite a favorite, her portrait of Lucretia Borgia attracting the “elite of Old Point” and other neighboring places. The part “was powerfully rendered, and the audience was chilled with horror.” 64 Strolling opera companies occasionally visited Norfolk, but whether from lack of ability or from the failure of the audience to appreciate their efforts, often received a cold reception. “A few broken-down, voiceless, and expressionless operators, an or¬ chestra but little superior to three blind fiddlers and a Scotch bag- pipeman, a chorus of invalids in the last stages of consumption, . . . this is a tax upon the patience,” said one critic. The rendition of Norma was bad; that of Faust worse. “Such demoniac howlings and screechings were never heard outside of Pluto’s dreary kingdom, and we can only compare the entire performance to a midsummer night w T hen all the cats and dogs” are loose. 65 In October, 1867, when the theater was under the management of Sardo and Company, the tragedian Eddy delighted the “play-goers in the great character of Damon.” 66 Three years later the room was crowded to see Laura Keene in She Stoops to Conquer 67 This was followed by a performance by a burlesque and opera bouffe company, and later by Fox and Denier in Three Blind Mice . 69 In April, 1872, Edwin Booth appeared as Iago several evenings in succession before large audiences. 69 Eight months later Fannie Janauschek “created 61 Nowitzky, Norfolk, pp. 36, 37. 62 Norfolk Post, June 22, 1865. 63 Ibid., July 11, 1865. 64 Ibid., Nov. 4, 1865. 65 Ibid., March 24, 1865. 66 Burton, History of Norfolk, p. 144. 67 Norfolk Journal, Oct. 5, 1870. 68 Ibid., November 5, 1870; December 14, 1870. 69 Burton, History of Norfolk, p. 143. The New Order 263 quite a sensation among the theater-goers” as “Mary Stuart in Schil¬ ler’s beautiful representation of the hapless queen.” 70 In December, 1873, Norfolk greeted Joseph Jefferson enthusiastically in his famous role of Rip Van Winkle. 71 In January, 1876, “the charming little Lotta,” a favorite in Nor¬ folk, played the part of Musette, in the Secret of Guilde Court, while on February 7 and 8, the Kellogg Opera Troupe presented Fra Diavolo and Faust. Ten days later Maggie Mitchell, remembered by many in Norfolk for her appearances before the Civil War, won new admirers for her acting in The Pearl of Savoy . 72 But the greatest treat of all was the performance of Lillian Adelaide Neilson, as Juliet, in January, 1877. The Grand Duke Alexis, the Grand Duke Constantine, Rear Admiral Boutakoff, and other distinguished Russians who were visiting Norfolk graced the occasion with their presence. “Every seat in the house was occupied, and extra chairs were placed in all avail- dole places—even then standing room was in demand, and the walk¬ way in the rear of the dress circle was literally packed. The audito¬ rium was very handsomely decorated with the flags of all nations— he front of the gallery being festooned with small foreign flags, and he private boxes tastefully draped with large American and Russian lags. . . . The distinguished guests were the cynosure of all eyes, when the curtain was down. ... In the character of the pure and ronstant Juliet, Miss Neilson fully sustained the reputation she had .0 justly won as the ideal of the immortal poet’s beautiful con- reption.” 73 In 1880 the old Opera House, the scene of so many notable gather- ngs, was eclipsed by the erection of the Academy of Music, on Main Street. The exterior of the new building was unattractive, the lower loor being occupied by shops, but a surprise awaited those who valked through the long vestibule to the auditorium. “The two ircles are rich in relief work; but the crowning glories are the ■jiroscenium and the ceiling. The first is a scholarly blending of mblems appertaining to music and drama in semi-relief,” set off by wo angels sitting half-poised on the cornice of the top boxes. “The cm ling is rich in magnificent frescoes and large medallions, with the >usts of dramatic authors and musical composers.” The stage was 70 Ibid., p. 148. 71 Ibid., p. 154. 72 Ibid., p. 165. 73 Norfolk Virginian, Jan. 23, 1877; Norfolk Landmark, Jan. 23, 1877. 264 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port forty-five by sixty feet, and the auditorium seated sixteen hundrec people. 74 In 1899 the Norfolk Conservatory of Music, one of the first of it; kind in the South, opened its doors under the management ol Anton F. Koerner. A year later the Conservatory’s symphony orches tra, composed partly of professionals, partly of amateurs, gave its firsi concert in the Y. M. C. A. hall. It was only in 1920, however, that a permanent civic symphony orchestra was organized. The cultural activities of Norfolk during this period and in sub sequent years derived their inspiration largely from the lives of twc remarkable women—Irene Leache and Anna Cogswell Wood. Ir 1873 these ladies established the Leache-Wood School, which wa; later housed in a two-story, vine-covered building on Freemasor Street. The girls who attended this seminary took away not only 1 knowledge of Latin, mathematics, and English, but a lasting love foi the beauties of art, music, and literature. After the death of Mis: Leache, Miss Wood began a memorial art collection, which for man) years was housed in the Norfolk Public Library. In 1905 the Leache Wood Alumnae Association took over the care of this collection Eleven years later the latter organization changed its name to th( Irene Leache Art Association, which was expanded in 1917 into tht Norfolk Society of Arts. The Norfolk women, like their sisters in other parts of the world accepted without complaint the changing vogues in dress—the tunic of 1868; the loose sleeves, the bustle, the wide skirts and flowing trair of 1873; the close-fitting skirt and tightly laced corset of 1877. The men looked on, uncomplaining save in the case of the “crown” bon nets of 1865, the “barber pole” stockings of 1875, an d the Doll) Varden costume of 1872. Then they protested mildly. “An excitement of more moment than the Fenian demonstration, the Mexican Em peror, the national debt, Negro suffrage, or the restoration of the South ... is the sudden change in fashions,” said the editor of tht Post in 1865. “We are to have crowns now, instead of the neat little crownless and modest republican bonnets and jaunty hats of the past year. This revolution will cost the country more than the debt. Out present styles of bonnets are very becoming, and we desire no change The rents are too high and business too dull.” 75 A few years later “the ridiculous Dolly Varden lunacy captured tht 74 Nowitzky, Norfolk, p. 31; Borum, Norfolk, Port and City, pp. io, 33. 75 Norfolk Post, Sept. 25, 1865. The New Order 265 ladies of Norfolk, and swept off its victims by the hundred. It was revealed in linen, cotton, silk and woolen goods, the dark ground of which was illuminated with figures of leaves, vines and flowers, such as roses, hollyhocks, sunflowers, etc. of all the beautiful hues of the rainbow.” “It gives to lovely woman the appearance of a perambulat¬ ing conservatory,” thought Burton. “But the Dolly Varden must run its course, and we must make up our minds to encounter it in parlor and kitchen as well as at church and on the streets.” 76 The Norfolk men suffered greatly from the universal curse of re¬ ceptions, or “socials” as they were then called; and on occasions ventured to put their complaints into print. “You have to stand duty in a crowd, with kid gloves on your hands and weariness in your heart,” one wrote. “Your shoes pinch, but you cannot sit down. Your companion bores you, but you must listen and smile. If you try to move about, you tread on thirteen hideous dress trains, that drag hemselves like half-dead boa-constrictors at the heels of their fair oossessors. You eat cake and drink coffee, though you know it will give you a headache in the morning.” 77 No doubt this long-suffering male was more in his element in some rf the baseball games, or in the rowing matches, or perhaps on the race tracks. So early as October, 1865, the Juniper baseball club was Dracticing on a field near the cemetery. “The feats of dexterity dis- rlayed by the fielders in catching the ball on the fly, rather astonished ;ome of the spectators who had never witnessed the game before.” 78 3 n November 24, the Junipers played the Unions, of the Thirty- rinth Illinois Regiment, and were defeated 44 to 30. 79 Two weeks ater they redeemed themselves by overwhelming another Norfolk dub, the Creightons, 94 to 25. “On the part of the Junipers, Panchon, he pitcher, showed decided tact and experience in giving the ball to he bat, guarding against any possibility of ground balls, which is juite a big item in a match game,” reported the Post. “Moore at short .top was all over, but was too excitable in the interests of others, and ost sight of his own position. . . . The basers and fielders did very veil, but need practice.” 80 In 1867 the Creightons played a home and tome series with the Petersburg Independents. The odd game was rlayed on neutral ground in Suffolk, the Creightons winning 43 to 76 Burton, History of Norfolk, pp. 142, 143. 1 77 Norfolk Journal, Nov. 15, 1870. 78 Norfolk Post, Oct. 26, 1865. 79 Ibid., Nov. 25, 1865. 80 Ibid., December 9, 1865. 266 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port g. 81 The Norfolk boys met their Waterloo in August, 1868, however when they fell before the Maryland Club, of Baltimore, by the scor< of 87 to 10. 82 After this the energies of athletic youths turned to the equalb exciting sport of rowing. The Undine and the Chesapeake Boat club were organized in Norfolk, and the Seaboard Club in Portsmouth, sc that long ship’s boats, pulled by six lusty youngsters, became a famil iar sight on the Elizabeth. In August, 1871, the Undines tried theii prowess against the Potomac Club of Georgetown, but were de feated. 83 This race was overshadowed in interest by the match be tween the two Norfolk clubs on May 7, 1872. The entire city was or tiptoe. The wharves on both sides of the river, the warehouses, the bridges were crowded, and the decks of the monitor Canonicu. swarmed with people. On the United States tug Standish a brass banc played, while the course was lined with rowboats, tugs, sloops, anc yachts. The Undine crew consisted of William Webber, J. C. Lynch James O’Rourke, J. C. Carroll, James McMenamin, John A. Hebrew and E. B. Le Page; the Chesapeakes, of William C. Dickson L. W. Tazewell, J. C. Baker, W. C. Hardy, George McIntosh, Free Hardy, and P. T. Moore. The course covered three and an eight! miles. At 4:36 p.m. the boats got away, with the Undines in the lead But the superior training of the Chesapeakes soon told, for they crep up on their opponents, passed them, and won by a good margin, ii the excellent time of nineteen minutes and twenty seconds. 84 In May, 1873, an exciting race took place between the Chesapeake and the Seaboards, of Portsmouth. The Norfolk crew was unchangec save that Moore had given w r ay to William Waller, McIntosh tc William A. Graves, Jr., and W. C. Hardy to F. B. Dornin. Th< Portsmouth boat, named the Ripple, seems to have been superior tc that of the Chesapeakes, and won handily in eighteen minutes anc forty-five seconds. But Norfolk forgot this setback, when the Chesa peakes, three weeks later, won from the Anacostian Club of Washing ton, in a race of four-oared shells on the Potomac. The victoriou crew were welcomed on their return to Norfolk with a banquet a the Atlantic Hotel, featured by an address by Colonel J. W. Hin ton. 85 The interest in rowing gradually waned, despite the organiza 81 Burton, History of Norfolk, p. no. 82 Ibid., p. 125. 83 Ibid., p. 140. 84 Norfolk Journal, May 8, 1872. 85 Burton, History of Norfolk, pp. 149, 150, 151; Lamb, Our Twin Cities, p. 38. TheNew Order 267 ion of the Norfolk Boat Club with a large membership, and the erection of a club house. 86 While some of the young men were thus distinguishing themselves is oarsmen, others were winning favor in the lists. In the tournament leld at the old Fair Grounds in 1870, S. S. Gresham, Jr., entered as he Knight of the Sable Plume, J. M. Hardy as Fra Diavolo, Henry L. Turner as Norfolk, Asa Biggs as the Old North State, L. C. Salusbury is Golden Spur, W. H. Gresham as Sir William Delaraine, p. H. Quarles as True Heart, W. A. Boykin as Ivanhoe, F. M. Hal- tead as the Lost Cause. The roads to the Fair Grounds were crowded, md the cars, each drawn by six horses, jammed to suffocation. Al- hough the sun shone in the eyes of the knights, they displayed great kill in managing their horses and in spearing the ring. The Knight >f the Sable Plume won first honors, with Fra Diavolo second. The lext evening, at an elaborate ball in the Atlantic Hotel, Miss Maggie sterling, of New York, was crowned Queen of Love and Beauty, diss Jennie Taylor, Miss Lula Blow, and Miss Mollie Webb being /[aids of Honor. 87 Not to be outdone by their brothers, in June, 1879, the ladies of Jorfolk organized a six-day walking match at the Opera House, lour after hour, day after day, the fair contestants, unmindful of /eary, aching feet, trudged round the main floor of the orchestra. On he sixth day the race had narrowed to Laura T. Douglass, Estelle 'illmore, Jennie Thorne, and Minnie Horton. As the day wore on so pany spectators crowded on the stage that it seemed a “sea of eager ,nd expectant faces.” At last, when it was known that Miss Douglass ad won, “a storm of applause” broke forth. In the six days the /inner had walked 310 miles and three laps. 88 Horse racing, the sport of colonial and ante-bellum days, was by no ■leans eclipsed by the introduction of baseball and rowing. Year after ear the Norfolk Turf Association arranged races in the Trotting ’ark at the end of Colley Avenue, or Fort Norfolk Road as it was prmerly called, which were watched by eager crowds. 89 It was in Jovember, 1873, that the Norfolk mare Nellie was matched against a lew York trotter named Huntress, for a purse of $1,500, at the iampostella track in the new Fair Grounds, south of the Eastern ■ranch. Hundreds came from Norfolk, some in carriages over the 86 Borum, Norfolk, Port and City, p. 32. 87 Norfolk Journal, Oct. 5 and 6, 1870; Burton, History of Norfolk, pp. 137, 138. 88 Norfolk Journal, June 8, 1879. 89 Ibid., July 6, Oct. 20, 1872. 268 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port draw-bridge or the toll-bridge, some came on foot, others crowdei into a special train on the N. & P. railway, which ran directly to th grounds. Enthusiasm was unbounded when Nellie won three out o five heats, her best time for the mile being two minutes and thirty two seconds. 90 Hunting, too, was popular. The whole Tidewater region aboundei in water fowl, canvasback, mallard, teal, and other ducks; geese swans, partridges, pigeons, pheasants, wild turkeys, and even deei Several gunning clubs were in existence, with headquarters on th Currituck Sound, at Two Penny Point, and elsewhere. The Norfol; Fox Hunting club held frequent meets, a favorite ground being nea Indian Pole Bridge. 91 The circus, of course, was always popular. “Everybody goes to th circus,” declared the Post in June, 1865, when Nixon’s show visite< Norfolk. “The fondness for horses and athletic exercises, the mat antics and clever jokes of the clown, the daring feats of the bolt riders, the graceful attitudes of the lady who rides the dashing whit horse, the fearful acts of the two brothers—they’re always brothers— delight all classes. The canvas is crowded every night, a goodly pot tion of the audience being black.” 92 The tent was erected on a vacan lot on the corner of Main and Granby streets, opposite the Custoc House. Seven years later the entire community was thrilled at th daring of “Professor” Donaldson, in ascending from the Fair Ground in a balloon. To the horror of the crowd the balloon burst while ii mid-air, but the cloth seems to have flattened out into a kind of para chute, so that the Professor’s descent was retarded, and he fell into ; clump of trees with no serious injuries. 93 From time to time the quiet life of Norfolk was broken by som great event which stirred deep emotions or aroused curiosity anc excitement. In April, 1870, General Robert E. Lee visited the city. A his train pulled into the Seaboard station, the Portsmouth veteran greeted him with a salute from a gun borrowed from the fire com pany. The general’s carriage, from the station to the ferry, passe< through masses of people, while the Rebel yell rang out over an< over again. On board the ferry itself, the general retired to his cabii to avoid his admirers, but as he stepped ashore in Norfolk, all had ; chance to show their respect. Here the United Fire Company awaitet 90 Burton, History of Norfolk, p. 154. 91 Norfolk Journal, Jan. 27, 1877. 92 Norfolk Post, June 22, 1865. 93 Norfolk Journal, Jan. 9 and 16, 1872. The New Order 269 lim, together with a crowd which packed Market Square and pressed orward eagerly, amid the glare of Roman candles and the boom of :annon, to catch a sight of “Marse Bob.” 94 Six months later the city mce -more paid homage to the great leader, but this time at the sad idings of his death. Public buildings, stores, residences were every- vhere draped in mourning, business was temporarily suspended, bells oiled. Norfolk had accepted the verdict of the war, was loyal to the estored Union, but her affection for the hero of the Lost Cause was :onstant. 95 On the morning of January 13, 1877, the Russian frigate Swetlana irrived in the Elizabeth, with Grand Duke Alexis, Grand Duke lonstantine, Rear Admiral Boutakoff, Prince Obolinski, and other lotables, for a visit of two months. This event caused a flutter among he Norfolk ladies, who awaited eagerly an opportunity to meet the listinguished foreigners. When it was announced that the Norfolk German Club would give a dance on January 25 in honor of Grand ^uke Alexis, there were hasty refittings of gowns of silk or tarlatan. The ballroom floor and spectators’ seats were thronged with the lite, beauty, and fashion of our ancient borough, and the scene :resented was of unusual splendor and brilliancy. The hall was lecorated with Russian and American flags, and the music was splen- iid. Beautiful belles, graceful and courtly gentlemen, and stately Matrons were present to mingle in the social festivities of the evening. . . At 9 o’clock the band played, and the German was begun. . . . It 10 o’clock the Grand Duke and his staff entered the room, and it re formally introduced by Captain B. P. Loyall to many ladies and entlemen. After a few minutes of pleasant conversation, les Landers laimed the attention of the dancers, and partners took their places.” firs. James Y. Leigh danced with Grand Duke Alexis, and Miss Hat- le Parks with Prince Obolinski. 96 On February 8 there was a grand aval ball at the Navy Yard in honor of the Russians, while a few ays later the Grand Dukes gave a matinee dansante on board the wetlanaN The period from 1865 to 1890 in Norfolk was marked by profound hanges. Many of the oldest families had suffered terribly from the ar, some having been reduced to poverty, others having left many of heir members upon the battlefield. The military funerals, of almost 94 Burton, History of Norfolk, p. 133. 95 Norfolk Journal, Oct. 13, 1870. 98 Norfolk Virginian, Jan. 26, 1877. 97 Burton, History of Norfolk, pp. 183, 194. 270 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port weekly occurrence in 1865, when the bodies of Norfolk’s soldiers wer brought home, typified the end of the old social order. Norfolk sti revered the ante-bellum tradition; charm, courtesy, and hospitalit still marked her social intercourse, but she could not escape th moulding influence of a new era. New railway lines were openec new steamship connections made, manufactures sprang into lift Northern businessmen came with new ideas, the young men of Noi folk imbibed the spirit of progress. The advent of electric lights, stree cars, water works, sewerage, clean streets, an efficient police fora better schools; the elimination of marsh lands, the erection of sul stantial business houses, the extension of the city limits were bi symptoms of the changed spirit of the time. The Norfolk of othe days, the Norfolk of General Robert B. Taylor, Governor Tazewel Hunter Woodis, and Hugh Blair Grigsby, was making way for th commercial and industrial city of the future. CHAPTER THIRTEEN A Half-Century of Growth The conclusion of the Civil War found Norfolk practically cut off from the interior. Vessels were still coming through the Albe¬ marle and Chesapeake canal, and traffic on the James was immedi¬ ately restored, but months elapsed before the Norfolk and Petersburg, and Seaboard and Roanoke railroads could be put into operation. For miles the tracks had been torn up and bridges destroyed. It was anly in the fall of 1865 that trains began to move over the Seaboard, and in April, 1866, that connection with the south was restored by the :ompletion of the new bridge over the Roanoke at Weldon. The Norfolk and Petersburg was opened for traffic in February, 1866. This long expected event was marked by an excursion from Rich¬ mond to Norfolk, graced by the presence of Governor Peirpoint and many senators and delegates. Cigars and liquor were passed around n the special guest coach, and one could hardly see across the car. ‘Loud talking is heard, and songs, facetious remarks, and anecdotes, aughter, mock speeches, and a disposition to romp. Looking out, a ow, flat country, with here and there a clump of trees, seen through 1 veil of smoke, and a stream of whirling, delirious sparks. . . . We ire going very rapidly, but the track is new, and we go smoothly. . . . Trees, swamps, the Elizabeth River, the Dismal Swamp, the canal go iy, and we are at Norfolk. Here we are met and escorted to Pepper’s, vhere a supper awaits us. In an anteroom are bowls of fluid. . . . legislators close round in firm circles, and after a preliminary pull,” hey listen to an address of welcome by Mayor Tabb. Governor Peir- ioint replies, pledging the state’s support to measures aiding in the levelopment of Norfolk. He is followed by Colonel J. P. Baldwin, 272 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port Gilbert C. Walker, and others. “After this, things got sort of lively all around the board.” “Gentlemen,” said one legislator, “Norfolk is by nature a great commercial ’mporium. . . . S’got a magnificen har¬ bor. We are going t’ make it blossom like a rose. I mean to say be full of ships, ’n things, masts, an’ sails, an’ Jib-booms, an’ ship ahoy.” 1 The resumption of railway traffic had a magical effect upon Nor¬ folk. The city awakened as from a troubled sleep, and activity was resumed with a vim unknown since the days before the Embargo. “Everywhere there is bustle and noise, and the pleasing sound of labor,” said an observer, in December, 1866. 2 “Turn where we might, we saw huge piles of cotton. . . . The wharves everywhere groaned beneath the weight of the products of the great North State—tar, turpentine, rosin, staves, shingles, lumber. Hundreds of merry-faced laborers were busy discharging or loading the many vessels that lined the wharves, or moved freight to and fro.” 3 On February 24, 1866, two carloads of cotton from Georgia which arrived over the Norfolk and Petersburg awakened the city to the fact that at last connection had been established with the Far South. Cars could be loaded at Memphis, and passing over the Memphis and Charleston to Chattanooga, thence over the East Tennessee and Georgia to Bristol, over the Virginia and Tennessee to Lynchburg, the Southside to Petersburg, and thence over the Norfolk and Peters¬ burg, discharge their loads in the warehouses on the banks of the Elizabeth. Before the lapse of a year this group of railways was pouring into Norfolk various agricultural products—cotton, corn, flour, fruit, peanuts, potatoes, tobacco, and wheat—together with millions of feet of lumber. However, the linking of Norfolk with the cotton states would have proved of little ultimate benefit had it not been for the consolidation of the three lines from Norfolk to Bristol. This move, one of the first of its kind in the South, was sponsored by General William Mahone. Had the proposal been made prior to the Civil War, the Richmond interest could probably have blocked it, for it was certain to divert traffic from the James River and Kanawha canal and from the Rich¬ mond and Danville Railway, but Richmond no longer wielded the Dower of old. First winning the support of Governor Walker, Mahone secured the passage of a bill to merge the Norfolk and Petersburg, 1 Norfolk Post, Feb. 19 and 20, 1866. 2 Norfolk Journal, Dec. 6, 1866. 3 Ibid. 273 A Half-Century of Growth the Southside, and the Virginia and Tennessee into the Atlantic, Mississippi and Ohio Railway; to provide for its extension to meet the railroad system of Kentucky; and to authorize a loan of fifteen million dollars for repairs and new equipment. 4 The new system, which stretched 408 miles across southern Virginia, was in a strategic position to intercept traffic to Richmond, not only from Lynchburg and the Valley of Virginia, but from West Virginia. No wonder the Richmond press dubbed Mahone the “Railroad Ishmael.” 5 For Norfolk, however, the merger was most beneficial. The lumber, wheat, and tobacco of southern Virginia, and the cotton of the Far South poured into her lap in increasing volume, and the old isolation of ante-bellum days was forgotten in the optimism of dawn¬ ing prosperity. There was one moment of great anxiety. With the financial panic of 1873, the road became financially embarrassed and could not meet the interest on its mortgage bonds. In March, 1876, the bondholders applied for a receivership, 6 and three months later the receiver took control. With returning prosperity receipts mounted steadily, so that in time every obligation could have been met, but it was deemed expedient to end the receivership by selling the road. Norfolk awaited in breathless suspense. Should unfriendly interests acquire this line and divert its traffic to Richmond or Baltimore, the effect would be ruinous. Fortunately, the purchaser, Clarence H. Clarke, of Phila¬ delphia, made Norfolk the key to a much expanded system. 7 Chang¬ ing the misleading name of Atlantic, Mississippi and Ohio, to Nor¬ folk and Western, he launched a progressive program, making con¬ tracts for joint traffic with the Virginia and Georgia, and the East Tennessee, and reducing through passenger and freight rates. 8 Even more important was the extension of the line into the vast :oal fields of southwest Virginia and of West Virginia. The New River Railway, controlled by the Norfolk and Western, was pushed westward, until, in 1883, it reached the Pocahontas region. On this iide and that, wherever coal was discovered, branch lines were run rp the narrow valleys beneath the mountain ranges. This was the ’ 4 C. C. Pearson, The Readjuster Movement in Virginia (New Haven, 1897) , pp. >7, 28; Jones, Norfolk as a Business Centre, pp. 21-26; Norfolk Journal, Nov. 15, ? 870. 5 Pearson, The Readjuster Movement in Virginia, p. 70. 6 Norfolk Journal, March 16, 1876. 7 The purchase was made on Feb. 10, 1881, and the owners took possession of the oad on May 3, 1881 (Norfolk Journal, Jan. 12, 1882). s Ibid. 274 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port beginning of a movement which was to make Norfolk one of the greatest coal ports of the world. But the management was not yei satisfied. Extending its line northwest along the boundary of Wesi Virginia and Kentucky to the Ohio River, and thence to Columbus, ii tapped the Middle West, and opened to Norfolk the possibility of be coming also a great grain port. 9 In the meanwhile, the Seaboard and Roanoke was also doing it; share to build up Norfolk. In the ten months preceding April 1, 1867 this line brought in 52,000 bales of cotton, 760,000 pounds of driec fruit, 17,000 barrels of naval stores, 670,000 staves, and 2,500,000 fee of lumber. 10 It was chiefly by the Seaboard and Roanoke that Norfolk maintained its position as the most important port for North Caro lina. Goods in large volume flowed over the North Carolina railway from Charlotte and Salisbury to Raleigh, then over the Raleigh anc Gaston to the Seaboard, and thence to Norfolk. This caused man' protests from the Carolinians. “Why,” they said, “should our produci aid in building up a port in another State, when we have suitablt harbors of our own? The traffic which now goes to Norfolk should b< diverted to Beaufort, by means of the Atlantic and North Carolina.’ But the old difficulties of shallow water, sand bars, and dangerou 1 capes operated now as in former generations to force Carolina freigh to go to Norfolk. Of 39,285 tons of goods passed on by the Nortf Carolina railway to other roads in 1869, no less than 31,767 ton: found their w r ay to the Elizabeth, 4,950 tons to Wilmington, and onh 2,568 tons to Beaufort. 11 Though Norfolk easily maintained her superiority over the Caro lina ports, she had good reason to fear the competition of Baltimori and other great Northern cities. She was in constant fear that hei connections to the west and south would be interrupted by the forma tion of north and south railway mergers. From the mass of little line: in North Carolina, it was inevitable that trunk railways would even tually be created. Whether the new combinations would radiate fron Norfolk, or from Washington and the North, was of supreme im portance. The north and south trend is shown by a statement o President W. A. Smith, of the North Carolina railway. “Our tru< 9 Poor’s Manual of Railroads (New York, 1887, 1894) . 10 Norfolk Journal, Feb. 13, 1867. 11 C. K. Brown, State Movement in Railroad Development (Chapel Hill, 1928) pp. 156-160. A Half-Century of Growth 275 policy is to work with the shortest, quickest, and the cheapest lines north and south,” he reported to his stockholders in 1869. 12 That the Carolina eventually became linked with the Richmond and Danville, and not with the Seaboard, is due in part to the Civil War. In 1861 there was one serious gap in the railway lines from Richmond to the Far South, that between Danville and Greensboro. So the Confederate Congress, acting upon the advice of President Davis, chartered the Piedmont railway, which at once became a sub¬ sidiary of the Richmond and Danville. After the war the latter com¬ pany, with its southern terminus in Greenville, suddenly envisaged a [ar-reaching system in Georgia and other parts of the South. And for :his system the tracks of the North Carolina, between Greenville and Charlotte, were a necessary link. In 1871, despite the bitter opposition rom many Carolinians, the entire North Carolina railway was leased o the Richmond and Danville, and the dream of a trunk line from Norfolk to western Carolina for the time being vanished. 13 On the ither hand, the Seaboard, taking a leaf from the book of its rivals, gradually built up a north and south system of its own. Gaining con- rol of the Raleigh and Gaston, the Raleigh and Augusta, and the Wilmington and Shelby, by 1884 it was draining into its warehouses at ’ortsmouth the products of all central and southern North Caro- ina. 14 Norfolk’s two railways, with the Albemarle and Chesapeake canal, ucceeded in making the place one of the nation’s greatest cotton >orts. ‘‘Cotton is pouring in,” stated the Norfolk Journal, in January, 867. ‘‘As formerly we were the greatest corn port on the Atlantic, so /e may soon be the greatest cotton port.” In 1858 Norfolk received nly 6,174 bales of cotton, eleven years later the number was 137,- 39, 15 while in the year ending March 1, 1874, it was no less than 137,031 bales. 16 For the time being, it was receiving more cotton than lither Charleston or Savannah, and was surpassed only by New Means and Galveston. 17 At first the agreements for through freight rates between both rail¬ ways and connecting steamship lines caused much complaint. ‘‘The 12 Brown, State Movement in Railroad Development, p. 162. 13 Ibid., pp. 165-173. 14 Poor’s Manual of Railroads, 1884, p. 406. 15 Norfolk Landmark, Feb. 12, 1874; Merchants and Mechanics Exchange, Report, S69, p. 31. 16 Norfolk Landmark, March 11, 1874. 17 Ibid., March 17, 1874. 276 Norjolk: Historic Southern Port Atlantic, Mississippi and Ohio carries cotton to New York at th< same rate it does to Norfolk,” stated the Journal. “Out of the 70,00c bales (brought here last year) every one remained at Norfolk excep. 68,500 which were dumped into steamers and carried north.” 18 Bui this state of affairs was short-lived. In 1874 a cotton exchange wai organized, with offices in the warehouse of Reynolds Brothers, or Water Street. Later the exchange moved to the Dodson Building or Main Street, the handsome marble front of which had once stood ir Baltimore and had been brought to Norfolk by boat in its entirety. 11 In addition the establishment of two compress houses made possible foreign shipments directly from Norfolk’s wharves. “My attention was attracted by the grim-looking tower of the Virginia Compress,” states a visitor to Norfolk in 1888, “which showed plainly what it was in tended for, not only by the white clouds of escaping steam and deafen ing noise that accompanied them, but also by the many bales of cotton that would find their way into its somber-looking interioi large and clumsy, and leave reduced to less than half their formei size, in order to take up less space in a ship’s hold.” 20 In short, cotton, almost unknown at Norfolk before 1855, restored the city’s foreign trade, and with it the long-dreamed-of prosperity. In 1866 the number of bales sent directly from the Elizabeth River tc Europe was only 733, in 1873 it had mounted to 8,282, in 1874 to 47,342, in 1875 to 87,753, in 1876 to io6,42i. 21 In the year ending August 31, 1888, the number of bales sent to Great Britain alone was 230,g83- 22 At that time more than half the cotton received at Norfolk and Portsmouth was shipped abroad. 23 Norfolk’s exports in 1866 totaled $411,397, 24 in ^74 they had risen to $1,831,036, in 1875 to $5,243,g86, 25 in 1876 to $7,825,112, 26 in the year ending August 31, 1885 to no less than $i4,27g,835. 27 Once more the Elizabeth took on the character of old, with great ocean liners at anchor or tied up at the wharves. Here is the Allen liner Hibernian, loading for Liver¬ pool; here the steamer Strasburg, of 2,662 tons, bound for Reval; 18 Norfolk Journal, March 23, 1871. 19 The building was erected in 1885 by R. S. Dodson, owner of the Atlantic Hotel. Letter of Col. E. Griffith Dodson (his grandson) to the editor, Jan. 13, 1961. 20 Nowitzky, Norfolk, p. 24. 21 Norfolk Landmark, Jan. 7, 1877. 22 Ibid., Sept. 2, 1888. 28 Ibid., Oct. 8, 1885. 24 Ibid., March 11, 1874. 25 Ibid., Dec. n, 1875. 26 Ibid., Jan. 7, 1877. 27 Ibid., Sept. 4, 1885. A Half-Century of Growth 277 iere the great ship Gregory, there a bevy of barks, brigs and schoon¬ ers. In 1883 no less than 121 vessels, aggregating 97,955 tons, left the Elizabeth for foreign ports,—59 for Liverpool, 15 for Demerara, 1 for Jamaica, 7 for Reval, 4 to Barbados, 3 to Barcelona, 3 to Bel¬ fast, 3 to Trinidad, and one or two to other widely scattered )orts. 28 It was in the decade from 1870 to 1880 that the port of Norfolk >nce and for all outdistanced the Virginia Fall Line cities. As ocean iners grew larger and larger, it became increasingly difficult for them jo ascend the James or the Appomattox. If one wished to ship cotton >r wheat from Richmond or Petersburg for foreign ports, it had to be lone in vessels of light draft, and vessels of light draft were finding it fifficult to compete with the new and larger type of steamer. So it was o Norfolk that the southern cotton was brought, while the exports of icr ancient rivals gradually sank. In 1874 Richmond exports had otalled $3,483,626, while those of Norfolk were but $1,831,036; the text year the figures for Norfolk had risen to $5,243,986, while those or Richmond had declined to $2,944,642. 29 It was in vain that the Richmond Enquirer protested that Norfolk’s trade was chiefly in mall vessels, which could easily come up the James to Rocketts. The landmark retorted that the ship Gregory of 27 % 2 feet draft, and the rigate Colorado of 24% 2 feet had recently visited Norfolk, whereas It Rocketts there was but 14 feet of water. 30 The Fall Line cities had ither to become manufacturing and financial centers, or look for¬ ward to gradual decay. It was now no longer a matter of whether Norfolk could induce the Virginia and Carolina railways to come to the Elizabeth, or to Hamp- m Roads, but of whether they could find the means of doing so. So arly as 1868 the Chesapeake and Ohio, the railway on which Rich- rond had relied to open the commerce of the Ohio region, was lanning to extend its tracks to deep water. A company pamphlet of rat year shows three alternate termini, at Norfolk, West Point, and lewport News. Norfolk made a determined effort to bring the line i> the Elizabeth, sending a committee composed of Charles Sharp, ieorge W. Johnson, and James McCarrick, to interview President luntington. They received no encouragement. Huntington had al- aady selected Newport News, not only because the distance from 28 Ibid., Jan. 1, 1884. 29 Ibid., Dec. 11, 1875. so Ibid. 278 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port Richmond was shorter than to Norfolk, but because there was m rival line on the peninsula between the James and the York. 31 In the meanwhile, another new railway had been laid down, whicl strengthened Norfolk’s hold upon the trade of eastern North Care lina—the Elizabeth City and Norfolk, later called the Norfolk am Southern. This line was chartered in 1870, but the delays of financin; and construction postponed the opening until January 1, 1881/ During the same year the line was extended to Edenton. In 1891 i was sold under foreclosure, repurchased by the stockholders, am consolidated with the Albemarle and Pantego; fifteen years later i was extended westward to Charlotte by a combination with fou other railways. 33 The Norfolk and Southern to some extent supei sedecl the two canals as the artery of commerce from the Nortl Carolina sounds to Norfolk, and great quantities of cotton, lumbei naval stores, corn, peanuts, and early vegetables flowed in to it terminus at Berkley. And now the Atlantic Coast Line and the Richmond and Danvill began to cast longing eyes at the Elizabeth River, for neither had satisfactory deep water outlet. They could not extend their lines t this point, however, because of an agreement not to build in th territory of the Seaboard. But in case a new line, under a separat management, was laid down to the Elizabeth, they considered them selves free to use its tracks. So, in 1886, when Mayor Barton Myers, 0 Norfolk, sought an interview with William P. Clyde and John H Inman, they suggested that he organize a company for a railway frorr Pinner’s Point to Tarboro. This Mr. Myers did, buying the charte of the Western Branch Belt Railroad, and laying down tracks t Suffolk. He next purchased the narrow-gauge railway of the Tuni and Serpell Lumber Co., and made it a standard-gauge road, wdthou changing the charter or personnel. The next step was to organize th Chowan and Southern Railway, with tracks entering Tarboro. Ii 1889 Harry Walters and John F. Newcombe, representing the Atlar tic Coast Line, came to Norfolk, and received the charters of th three connecting lines. They were then combined as the Norfolk am Carolina railroad, and became a part of the Atlantic Coast Lin system. 34 31 Interstate Commerce Commission, Finance Docket 4943. Testimony of Barto Myers. 32 Poor’s Manual of Railroads, 1884. 33 Ibid., 1907, p. 380. 34 Norfolk Landmark, July 1, 1888; Testimony of Barton Myers, loc. cit. 279 A Half-Century of Growth In the meanwhile, the Southern Railway, with which the Rich- nond and Danville had been consolidated, backing out of the deal vith Mr. Myers, had begun active preparations to make West Point, it the head of the York River, its deep water terminal. Mr. Inman vas warned that the place was ill chosen, but he persisted for several 'ears, wasting millions of dollars in the attempt. In the end he was orced to make an arrangement with the Atlantic Coast Line, vhereby the Southern used its tracks to the Elizabeth. 35 But the louthern management was not satisfied to remain permanently de¬ pendent upon another company and looked around anxiously for an mtlet of its own upon Virginia’s great harbor. This opportunity ame through the Atlantic and Danville. So early as February, 1867, the newspapers were discussing a pro¬ posed railway from Norfolk to Danville, 36 which was to be called the >Jorfolk and Great Western. The plan envisaged the ultimate ex- ension of the line to Bristol, where it was to connect with other rail¬ ways leading to Nashville. 37 The people of Norfolk were asked to ubscribe to this ambitious venture, and the old bait of a rapid in- rease in growth and wealth through the western trade was dangled pefore their eyes. But the city’s finances had not yet been straightened tut from the Civil War entanglements, and the people voted against he subscription by a narrow margin. For the time being the project Iropped from view. However, in 1882, a new company was chartered mder the name of Atlantic and Danville, and the next year the vork of construction was begun. 38 The line was completed to Dan¬ dle in 1890. But in 1891 it passed into the hands of receivers, ind on April 3, 1894, was sold in the interest of the bondholders. In 895 the company was reorganized, with capital stock totalling $5,- 00,000. In the meanwhile the Southern had secured a temporary outlet on tie Elizabeth River, by purchasing trackage rights over the Wilming- on and Weldon, and the Norfolk and Carolina railways from jelma, N. C., to Pinner’s Point. During the year ending August, 1895, ire company acquired by purchase and lease real estate in Norfolk nd at Pinner’s Point sufficient for the establishment of terminals for bcal traffic and railway connections. During the next three years rany thousands of dollars were expended in improvements—in the ss Ibid. 36 Norfolk Journal, Feb. 1, 1867. 37 Ibid., Jan. 25, 1869. 38 Poor’s Manual of Railroads, 1884. 280 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port purchase of additional real estate at Pinner’s Point, in dredging, ; erecting new wharves, docks, and warehouses. On January 1, 189 Southern trains began to move from Selma to Pinner’s Point, and : a few years the tonnage handled at the new terminus was near three times as large as that handled at West Point in 1896. The ne: step was the lease for fifty years of the Atlantic and Danville, c August 31, 1899. This entrenched the Southern’s position by makir it independent of trackage agreements with other companies, and : gave definite assurance of a satisfactory ocean outlet for its vast ne work of railways. 39 Norfolk now looked back upon the ante-bellum days, when si was struggling vainly to secure railway connections with the sout and west, as an unpleasant, hazy memory. With great railway systen fighting to reach her harbor, with the Fall Line towns eliminated ; rival ports; with the products of Virginia, West Virginia, Nort Carolina, Tennessee, and the Far South pouring into her lap, si realized that the long-expected prosperity was at hand. Yet there was one weakness in the railway system at Norfolk. Th lines all centered on the Elizabeth River, some on the left ban! others on the right, in most cases without convenient connection or with the other. This necessitated delays in the movement of cars an proved a serious inconvenience to shippers. It was A. J. Cassatt, the a director of the Pennsylvania Railway, who found the remed' Mr. Cassatt in 1883 had commenced the construction of the Ne' York, Philadelphia, and Norfolk Railroad and the rebuilding of th old Eastern Shore and Peninsula railroads. When these lines wer opened for traffic, the barges from Cape Charles City brought cat from the north to the car float bridges of the various railways on th Elizabeth. In 1898 Mr. Cassatt ended this unsatisfactory arrangemer by building his own terminal, where all freight cars of his road couk be assembled, and where his barges could be loaded by his own crew; To secure direct connection with the other railways, he built a bel line from this terminal south and west of Portsmouth, turning ove to each railroad an eighth interest without profit. The Norfolk an< Portsmouth Belt Line proved of great benefit to the communit\ not only in facilitating exchange of freight, but in attracting indu; tries. A plant located on this “clearing house of transportation” hat access to seven great railways, 40 as well as to overseas and coasta 39 Ibid. 40 Later eight. A Half-Century of Growth 281 teamers. In 1927 the Belt Line was serving 116 different industrial ;oncerns. 41 In the long and interesting history of Norfolk, her commerce has teen dependent, at various periods, upon different articles of export, thorn the date of foundation until the third decade of the nineteenth ;entury, tobacco, lumber, and naval stores were the basis of the own’s commerce; from 1870 to 1885 cotton was mainly responsible or the city’s growth; from 1885 to the present day coal has been the chief article of export. So early as 1853 it was predicted that Norfolk would become the greatest coaling station in the United States. The James River and Kanawha canal, so it was thought, would lead to great shipments rom the western Virginia fields to the Elizabeth, where “the whole team-marine of the Atlantic would be supplied with fuel.” With a pady means of transportation, “the best fuel in the world for steam yould be supplied at Norfolk cheaper than any accessible point on he Atlantic border.” 42 After the Civil War, visions of a huge coal fade continued to flit before the eyes of the Norfolk merchants, and he proposed Norfolk and Great Western had as one of its chief ibjects the tapping of the mining region. “Norfolk can become one »f the great coal-marts of the Union,” said the Journal, in April, 1870, and can compete with Baltimore and Philadelphia in furnishing the vhole seaboard. The English mines are going deeper, and the time vill come when Virginia coal can be exported. We look to the development of the coal mines of Virginia and West Virginia, when jonnection is made with our city, as the commencement of a new era p the growth and commerce of Norfolk. . . . She will become the Newcastle of America. May the day come when we shall see long rains arriving many times a day, laden with every kind of coal.” 43 With the creation of the Norfolk and Western and the completion f the New River line, this hope became a reality. In 1881 and 1882 intensive preparations were made for the reception of coal trains, the ompany extending its freight yard, building a coal pier into the Eastern Branch, and removing the old drawbridge, so that large ves- lels could approach it. 44 It was on March 17, 1883, that the first carload of coal came [trough from the Pocahontas fields, and was presented to the city of i 41 The New Norfolk (Norfolk, 1927) , pp. 15, 16. 42 Forrest, Sketches of Norfolk, pp. 298, 299. 43 Norfolk Journal, April 25, 1870. 44 Norfolk Landmark, Jan. 12, 1882. 282 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port Norfolk by Vice-President Kimball, of the Norfolk and Western. “It arrival was greeted by a salute fired by a detachment of the Blues The car was then detached from the rest of the freight train, anc gayly decorated with bunting. The Mayor and others then mountec the engine and car for an ovation tour up the tracks as far as McCul lough’s wharf. The novel sight attracted crowds along Water Street and cheer after cheer greeted the ‘first car.’ People rushed to the tracl to get specimens of the coal, and sometimes they were kindly sup plied with more chunks of it than they w T anted. ... As the cai moved slowly along many a head that appeared at a window to catcl a glimpse of the sight, caught something else. . . . The car ther returned and ran up on the elevated railway to the coal chutes. . . Engineer E. H. Reams had the honor of running the train dowr from Pocahontas. The locomotive that pulled the ‘first fruits’ so tc speak, is a Mogul engine. No. 83. The car is a gondola No. 6,212 bearing on one side this inscription: ‘From Pocahontas to Norfolk For Mayor Lamb.’ ” 45 It became immediately obvious that the pier on the Eastern Branch would be inadequate for the needs of the new trade. So the Norfolk and Western carried its track in a wide sweep around the city tc Lamberts Point, where the water was twenty-six feet deep, and buili a great pier out over the water, 894 feet long, 60 feet wide, and 48 feet high. From this point the coal deliveries were 504,153 tons in 1886, and over a million tons in 1889. In all 3,821 vessels took on coal here in these four years. 46 “At Lambert’s Point, a dingy mass of piers, trestles, and buildings marks the coaling station of the Norfolk and Western,” said the New York Evening Post. “Coal from thence is now shipped so far north as Portland, Maine, and southward to Havana.’’ The presence of cheap coal gave Norfolk an advantage over other Atlantic ports, which aided both the coastwise and foreign trade. The steamer which came into the Elizabeth for a cargo of cotton or grain had but to stop at Lamberts Point to fill its bunkers, while those at a rival port might have to make a wide detour for fuel. With the opening of the twentieth century the coal trade had grown so rapidly that it induced a great capitalist to construct an entirely new railroad from the coalfields to Norfolk. It was H. H. Rog¬ ers who envisaged the Virginian Railway and provided the capi¬ tal for its construction. In 1905 representatives of Mr. Rogers 45 Norfolk Virginian, March 18, 1883. 46 Facts and Figures about Norfolk (Norfolk, 1890) , pp. 8, 9. A Half-Century of Growth 283 promised the mayor and council that if they would grant a right of way around the city, he would bring the line to Norfolk, secure frontage on the right bank of the Elizabeth, and construct the terminus there. Thereupon Barton Myers and others secured an ap¬ propriation of ninety-five thousand dollars for the purchase of the right of way, and got an option upon five hundred acres at Sewells Point. They then went to New York and closed the deal with Mr. Rogers. The rights of way cost more than the ninety-five thousand dollars, so the committee paid the balance from their own pockets, jin the end Mr. Rogers not only reimbursed them, but repaid the rinety-five thousand dollars to the city. 47 The Virginian, which was built from Deepwater, West Virginia, to Sewells Point, a distance of 442 miles, was opened for business on { \pril 1, 1909. The construction was unique. The engineers were told o connect the two terminal points, regardless of intervening towns, n the most direct and convenient way. This made it possible to instruct what is practically a gravity road from west to east, so that p-eat trains of coal cars can move down from the mountain region to hlampton Roads, with a minimum of steam power. At Sewells Point 1 steel pier 1,040 feet long was erected, with provision for coaling our large vessels at a time. This remarkable road entered upon extensive operations at once. In 1910 it hauled nearly a million tons, in 1913 four and a half millions, in 1916 six millions and a half. 48 The three great coal carrying railroads—the Norfolk and Western, he Chesapeake and Ohio, and the Virginian—made Hampton Roads he greatest coal port in the world. There was a constant procession )f trains from West Virginia to Lamberts Point, Sewells Point, and Newport News, where ocean liners, bay steamers, tramps, and coast¬ ing vessels awaited for cargo or bunker coal. The demand seemed imitless, for the factories, railroads, electric power stations, and gas Yorks of the Eastern and Middle Atlantic States were constantly in Ijearch of cheap fuel. So early as 1911 the requirements of New England alone took nearly four million tons from Hampton Roads, m 1926 the port sent out no less than twenty-seven million tons. In measure as the railways brought freight into Hampton Roads, he facilities of the steamship lines increased to carry it off. In 1869 ■here were but twenty coastal steamers plying regularly between Norfolk and other American ports. In addition, however, there were 47 Testimony of Barton Myers, loc. cit. 48 The National City Company, The Virginian Railway (New York, 1917) . Norfolk: Historic Southern Port 284 many steam craft used in the bay, the rivers, and the two canals. Th canal boats were from twenty to three hundred tons burden, man of them making regular trips from Philadelphia and Baltimore t Norfolk, and thence through to points on the North Carolina sound: At this time the New York liners consisted of the Isaac Bell, th Niagara, the Saratoga, the Albemarle, and the Hatteras, all sidt wheelers, and the propeller steamship Virginia. The Boston line hat the William Lawrence, the George Appold, and the Blackstone, ai propeller steamers, and the side-wheeler, William Kennedy, 49 The export trade in the 1860’s was still small, and was carried oi almost entirely in sailing vessels. During the year 1868 eighty-thre craft left the Elizabeth for foreign ports—four steamers, thirty-si: brigs, two ships, twelve barks, twenty-nine schooners. 50 But with in creasing shipments of cotton, the tonnage of vessels engaged ii foreign trade rapidly mounted—from 12,530 in 1870, to 30,598 ii 1873, to 65,521 in 1876, to 86,279 i n !878, 51 to 121,420 in 1882, ti 789,396 in 1891. In the five years from 1891 to 1895 inclusive, ove 2,500 vessels left for foreign ports, 2,100 of them steamers. Export rose from $728,000 in 1871, to $1,255,000 in 1873, to $7,815,000 ii 1876, to $9,820,000 in 1879, to $16,264,000 in 1881, and to $19,845, 000 in 1882. 52 The pioneer in restoring Norfolk’s foreign trade was Willian Lamb. As commander of the Confederate forces at Fort Fisher North Carolina, Lamb in the course of his duties in assisting Britisl blockade runners had established many friendships with the shi] owners. At the close of the war these men offered to aid him in build ing up an export business, and in 1866 he sent out the Ephesus, th< first steamship ever loaded in Norfolk for Europe. Although th< Ephesus was wrecked on Sable Island and a part of her cargo o cotton lost, Lamb’s export business grew steadily. He became manage' of a line of Spanish steamers plying between Norfolk and Liverpool as well as the Norfolk agent for the Baltimore-Liverpool steamers and the Allen Line. 53 Reynolds Brothers, Ricks and Milhado, Barr Brothers, and other firms also aided in the restoration of Norfolk' transatlantic trade. In the meanwhile the coasting trade was also making great strides 49 Merchant and Mechanics Exchange, Report, 1869, pp. 71-73. 50 Norfolk Journal, Jan. 25, 1869. 51 Norfolk Landmark, Aug. 6, 1879. 52 Facts and Figures about Norfolk, p. 13. 63 Norfolk and Vicinity, pp. 74-75. A Half-Century of Growth 285 iThe Old Dominion line operated a fleet of seven steamers to New fork; the Merchants and Miners steamers plied between Norfolk and Baltimore, Savannah, Boston, and Providence; the Clyde liners went o Philadelphia. In 1879 the number of vessels engaged in the coast- vise trade was 1,068, totaling 973,459 tons; in 1887 the number was 1,500 vessels, of 1,396,071 tons. A surprisingly large part of the coastwise traffic was in peanuts, ruit, and vegetables. In colonial days the soil of the southeastern mmties was not esteemed highly, for only in limited areas was it uited for tobacco, the one great staple. There were few wealthy ilanters. Even after the Revolution the forests extended for miles dong the shores, and it was only in the years just preceding the Civil vVar that the farmers awoke to the fact that their land was unsur- lassed for truck gardening and peanuts. In early days peanuts were dmost unknown in Norfolk. When first introduced the farmers culti¬ vated them in an irregular and careless manner, little dreaming that hey would ultimately prove a gold mine. But during the Civil War 1 demand arose from Federal soldiers and other newcomers, and after he war extensive cultivation began. The output, which in 1867 was mly 75,000 bushels, grew to 324,000 bushels in 1872, to 780,000 rnshels in 1876, to 1,000,000 in 1879, and 2,250,000 bushels in 1888. Before the end of the century Norfolk had become the greatest leanut-growing region of the country. Before 1876 the nuts were deaned in fan mills by the farmers, but in that year K. B. Elliott :rected the first factory in Norfolk, with machinery for polishing and issorting. In 1910 Virginia and North Carolina together produced ibout 10,000,000 bushels, valued at $8,000,000. It was in 1842 that two New Jersey farmers came to eastern Vir¬ ginia and began intensive truck raising. They were immediately suc¬ cessful, receiving from $40 to $50 a barrel for cucumbers, and from >15 to $20 a barrel for peas. It was a revelation to the local farmers, vho had been devoting their time to tobacco, wheat, and the other ime-honored products of the region. Immediately they began to turn heir attention to tomatoes, beans, potatoes, cabbage, strawberries, ieets, lettuce, peas, onions, and similar crops. The value of land rose apidly. A farm which sold for $4,000 in 1842 would bring $6,000 in 845, and $18,500 in 1855. The first truck farms were on the Western Branch, but they spread rapidly, first throughout Norfolk County, md then into Princess Anne, Nansemond, Isle of Wight, and else- vhere. In time all tidewater Virginia and North Carolina, from 286 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port Northumberland on the Potomac, to Carteret on Pamlico Sound, be came practically one vast garden. Here one might see acres of greet peas, vast fields of cauliflower, farms devoted to cucumbers, who! fields of strawberries, potatoes, and cabbage plants. Everywhere wer Negro workers planting, or weeding, or spraying, or harvesting. In many cases the farmers brought their wares to market on thi rivers, sounds, and canals, in small sailing vessels. “Often 150 of thesi little vessels enter the harbor a few hours before the sailing time o the steamers, racing at full speed, with everything set and loaded higl above the decks with a profusion of boxes and barrels packed w r itl melons, cabbages, tomatoes, and vegetables of every description. The' dash straight in to get the best positions at the wharves, and oftei crowd up so thick that steamers and large vessels cannot make thei berths. In consequence numbers of them are obliged to cast off anc go swarming out into the bay, and there cruise aimlessly back anc forth like a cloud of butterflies, until they are signalled to return when they come in with a rush, jostling and crowding, the air mean time ringing and rent with the good natured jabbering and chaffing and cries of the crews.” 54 The frequent sailings of the coastwise anc bay steamers, together with the use of express freight cars on the Eastern Shore branch of the Pennsylvania and other railways, gave quick and ready access to all the great eastern markets. In 1893 the annual shipment of truck from Norfolk amounted to three millior packages. At this time the acreage of the truck farms was forty-five thousand, the number of hands 22,500, and the value of the produc seven million dollars. Thus for Norfolk the post-Civil War period was one of prosperity growth, optimism. With the reopening of old railways and the laying down of new lines, with the growth of coastal trade, with the reviva of direct commerce with foreign ports, with the development of the cotton trade, with the opening of communication with the great coa fields of Virginia, with the transformation of eastern Virginia anc North Carolina into a vast trucking garden, Norfolk awoke from the lethargy of olden days and claimed its rightful place as one of the leading ports on the Atlantic seaboard. It was in 1885 that a repre sentative of the New York Evening Post “discovered Norfolk.’ Hitherto the attitude of the Northern press had been hostile anc often unfair. One paper had derided the place as “that decrepii victim of the slave power, poor old imbecile granny Norfolk, whe 54 Borum, Norfolk, Port and City, p. 105. A Half-Century of Growth 287 ipends her feeble breath in sighing still for the system which made ler a municipal specimen of what the naturalists call arrested devel- rpment.” 55 Now the reporter was astonished to find the place awake, ;hrobbing with life and hope. “It is a city of the New South,” he vrote. “Already it is the third cotton port of the United States, while 1 beginning has been made of a coal trade, which has limitless op- oortunities. There are 60,000 people within a radius of three miles of he market house. On the wharves all is bustle and stir. Negro work¬ ers are moving the bales of cotton to and fro, while clerks and factors n long ulsters are sampling the product. In a nearby building a :otton compress, with the force of 6,000 tons in its iron jaws, is Dutting two bales into one to prepare them for shipment. Here we ee negroes rolling barrels of garden truck into the New York teamers; nearby a collier and lumber schooner is taking on its :argo. The great clouds of dust which come from this building mark t as a peanut factory, where the nuts are graded and cleaned. In the tarbor are steamers with red funnels, black and white funnels, reamers of all kinds, from almost every country; around them a bevy if ships, brigs, schooners, and lesser craft. If one drives out beyond (he city limits, he finds himself passing between the truck gardens vhich cover the peninsula on which Norfolk is built. As far as the iye can reach are green things—beets, parsley, spinach, turnips, trawberries, peas, onions, potatoes, corn, lettuce, cabbage, cucum¬ bers, watermelons.” 56 Even before the close of the Reconstruction period it was obvious hat Norfolk’s rapidly growing commerce would eventually double md triple the city’s population. But it was not so easy to predict the ■fleet of this expansion upon the physical character of the place, and jpon the life of the people. Already streets and houses had overrun (he entire region south of Smith’s Creek. Would it in time become as lensely settled as Main, and Bank, and Church streets? Would Free- hason and Bute be lined with houses, built directly upon the street, (ouching elbows, with only a bit of green in the garden plot behind? Would narrow lanes be cut from street to street, and built up with trowded tenements? No doubt this is what the people of Norfolk expected, and, no loubt this is what would have happened, had the future offered no eadier means of street transportation than the past. When the aver- 1 s5 Norfolk Post, Oct. 30, 1865. 56 Norfolk Landmark, Jan. 26, 1885. 288 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port age citizen had to walk to and from business, it was not practical foi him to build his residence more than a mile from the center o town. The fields north of Smith’s Creek lay invitingly before him, bu unless he owned a horse and carriage, he could not take advantage o them. It was most opportune, then, that just at this moment hi: problem was solved by the advent of the streetcar. It was in 1869 that the Norfolk City Railroad Company, fortifiec with a liberal franchise, 57 began laying down tracks over the entiri length of Main Street. 58 In August of the next year the people wer< thrilled by the arrival of “five elegant street cars,” from Wilmington Delaware. 59 These tiny vehicles, with their narrow front and bad platforms, their hard benches, and their four wheels, were drawn bt horses or mules. If traffic was light, one horse only was assigned to a car but when large crowds had to be moved, one, two, or even three more were added. There was but a single track on Main Street, wit! switches at Bank Street, at Peter Smith and Company’s store, anc elsewhere. Later rails were laid on Church Street, Granby Street, anc in the residential sections. In 1893 the Norfolk City Railroad Com pany was operating one mile of double track, and four and a hall miles of single track, with cars running on a five-minute schedule from Market Square to Brambleton, to Huntersville, and to Atlantic City. The equipment consisted of 120 horses and forty cars, handled by a force of sixty men. The Suburban and City Railway, organized in 1887, operated three and a half miles of track, having, in 1893 fifteen cars and sixty horses. 60 Year after year the horse-drawn cars continued to serve Norfolk until the clang of the bell and the clatter of the horses’ feet on the cobblestones had become a part of the everyday life of the city But already their doom had been sounded. In 1887 an electric cat had been put in service in Richmond, the first in the United States, and a few years later electricity was rapidly replacing horse power on the street lines of many other cities. Public sentiment de manded that Norfolk should not lag behind. The companies had prospered under the old system, however, and were reluctant to la) out thousands of dollars in new equipment until they were certain enhanced returns would justify it. But in 1893, in return for ar extension of their franchises, they decided to make the change, and al 57 The franchise was granted in 1866 (Borum, Norfolk, Port and City, p. 26). 58 Norfolk Journal, Aug. 28, 1869. 59 Ibid., Aug. 3, 1870. 60 Borum, Norfolk, Port and City, p. 26. A Half-Century of Growth 289 )nce began electrifying their roads. 61 It was October 17, 1894, that the irst trolley car went into operation in Norfolk. Although by this .ime the electric-driven car was no longer a marvel, its appearance in the streets created no little excitement. Before the end of the year he horse-drawn cars were entirely superseded, and many faithful rorses and mules were thrown out of a job. A decade later, the ;treetcar system, intertwined in the map of Norfolk like a tangled veb, wound in and out of the business section, and then reached out n all directions to the suburbs—to Sewells Point, Ocean View, Willoughby Spit, South Norfolk, Berkley, Portsmouth, Pinner’s Point. 62 The people had become as dependent upon the unending itream of fine new electric cars, as those of New York today upon the ;ubways. Hard upon the laying down of streetcar tracks came the develop- nent of new suburbs. The most important of these, located across imith’s Creek near Atlantic City, was called Ghent. 63 This expanse if farm land was taken over by a real estate company, plotted off into treets and avenues, and in a remarkably short period converted into me of the most exclusive residential sections of Norfolk. The west iranch of the creek, which had extended back across Princess Anne ioad, was filled in to Olney Road, and the lower part, lined with a tone buttress, was rechristened the Hague. The new community was provided with paved streets, granolithic sidewalks, sewerage pipes, vater mains, and gas pipes. Hundreds of silver maples and magnolia rees were planted along the thoroughfares, while several public quares were laid off on reclaimed tracts. In 1893 only a score of louses, “all of handsome and modern design,” had been erected, or vere in course of construction. 64 A decade later the entire suburb was milt up. The phenomenal success of the Ghent undertaking led immedi- itely to other development schemes. Farms were bought up, wide ivenues and cross streets marked off, and building operations started. K map of Norfolk published in June, 1900, shows a maze of streets all {he way from the Hague to Tanner’s Creek, with unplotted spaces on ^amberts Point, just south of the Norfolk and Western Railway west 61 Ibid., p. 27. 62 Virginian-Pilot, June 1, 1902. 1 63 It is related that Commodore Drummond, because of the fact that he brought ome a copy of the treaty of Ghent in his ship Rob Roy, gave the name Ghent to lis home across the creek from Botetourt Street, and that the new suburb was named lor the old residence. 64 Industrial Advantages of Norfolk (Norfolk, 1893) , pp. 24-26. 290 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port of Colley, and at one or two other places. In 1902 even these bare spots had disappeared. Houses were going up every day in section: which a few years ago had been considered far out in the country It is not too much to say that the streetcar, especially the trolley car, tripled the area of Norfolk and gave to thousands of its people who otherwise would have been cooped up on the crowded streets oi the old town the advantages of suburban life, with its lawns, its oper spaces, and its quiet. But this movement, so wholesome in most of its aspects, was viewed with no little apprehension by some of the older citizens The old West End, which for generations had been the aristocratic section of Norfolk, now had to meet a new and vigorous rival. While the wealthy and the distinguished were moving over the creek tc Ghent, the older residential sections gradually assumed an appearance of neglect and decay. The old West End had not yet been deserted b) the older families, for some still lived in the charming houses handed down to them by their fathers and their grandfathers. But others fol¬ lowed the trolley to the newly created city “across the bridge.” As the horsecar period was succeeded by the trolley-car period, so was the latter in turn superseded by that of the automobile. In the last decade of the nineteenth century when the motor-driven vehicle was slowly being perfected, the people of Norfolk apparently were not especially interested in its progress. Many were skeptical of its ulti¬ mate success, and no one seems to have foreseen its tremendous effect upon modern civilization. In the summer of 1899 a steam Locomobile, using kerosene for fuel, appeared upon the streets of Norfolk. This little car, shaped like a buggy, with wire spokes and solid rubber tires, could make short spurts of a mile a minute with a full head of steam. It is supposed to have been the first automobile ever operated in Virginia. 65 In March, 1900, T. S. Oliver, of Swift and Company, inserted a notice in one of the daily papers stating that he would introduce the delivery automobile to the citizens of Norfolk. This vehicle, of a type already used in various cities as delivery cars, he said, “is compact, neat, attractive in appearance and readily con¬ trolled by the operator.” Exhibitions would be given on the streets for a week or ten days. 66 If the sight of this vehicle, rattling and chugging up and down the streets, elicited any excitement, the papers failed to record it. During the same year Mr. F. W. McCullough purchased a 65 Letter of John G. Wallace (in possession of the author), May 27, 1930. 66 Virginian-Pilot, March 6, 1900. 2gi A Half-Century of Growth Ford. How great a curiosity a car was in those days is shown by the fact that in a trip from Baltimore to Staunton, Mr. McCullough met mly one other car. From Staunton he was forced to ship his Ford to Norfolk by freight, since one of the counties he wished to visit pro- iibited automobiles on the road. 67 During the next few years a number of Norfolk people purchased automobiles, and established dealers began advertising new and used :ars for sale. “We have secured the agency of the Columbia Electric and the Pope-Hartford gasoline automobiles,” stated the White Hard¬ ware Company. “Also we have a second-hand Locomobile for sale at a very low price.” 68 By the year 1910 hundreds of automobiles were in ase in the city and suburbs, and at any time one might see parked on Main or Granby a dozen or more of the touring cars typical at that late. At the first airplane ascension on Lee’s Parade, in November, 1910, more than one hundred cars were parked around the field. 69 The delivery of merchandise was still done almost entirely by horse- iirawn vehicles, however, and Commercial Place presented the same ispect as of old, with its long line of wagons backed against the curb, pr drawn up in the center of the square, the horses waiting patiently with lowered heads. 70 But so early as 1904, it had been predicted in Norfolk that “the day of the ‘plug’ would soon be over,” and that delivery wagons and even heavier trucks would be propelled by inotor. 71 The next two decades saw the fulfilment of this prophecy, md the horse-drawn vehicle became in Norfolk, as in other American tides, a comparative rarity. The era of the automobile saw many changes in the develop¬ ment of Norfolk. New suburbs—Colonial Place, Lamberts Point, 5 ark Place, Larchmont—filled in with modern residences, churches, ichools, and stores, until the entire region between the Elizabeth Liver and Tanner’s Creek became one uninterrupted city. Moreover, juilding extended over the creek, now rechristened Lafayette River, vhere many beautiful homes went up in the neighborhood of the :ountry club. The man of means could live upon what amounted o a diminutive country estate, and yet make his daily trip to the msiness centers in his automobile in less than half an hour. Yet the automobile by no means converted Norfolk entirely into a 67 Letter of Mr. F. W. McCullough (in possession of the author). 68 Virginian-Pilot , March 31, 1904. 69 Ibid., Nov. 2, 1910. 70 Norfolk (Norfolk Industrial Commission, Norfolk, 1912), p. 23. 71 Virginian-Pilot , Feb. 21, 1904. 292 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port city of homes, for the development of apartment houses kept pace with the building of suburban cottages. The compactness of the apartment, its many modern conveniences for housekeeping, and its proximity to the retail and theater district, conspired to make ii attractive to many families. “Norfolk is to become a city of apartment houses,’’ said the Virginian-Pilot so early as 1904, “and in this respect will rival Washington, the home of the flat-dwellers, should buildings of this character be continued at the present rate.” The typical apart ment house of that day was from three to five stories high, with dining hall, doctor’s office, and barber shop. The apartments con sisted of two or three bedrooms, dining room, living room, kitchen., pantry, and bath. 72 Soon there were scores of such buildings in the city, scattered over West Ghent and other comparatively new sections. While the residential section of the city was shifting westward and northward, the business section was also on the move. In former days wholesale houses had centered around Water Street and Commercial Place, while the shops had been located on Main and Church streets. At the conclusion of the Civil War, when Granby Street crossed Back Creek on the old bridge, and when on the corner of Main and Granby was an open lot large enough to accommodate the tents of the visiting circus, business had not yet turned the corner. The northwest trend, however, was already drawing the retail houses up Main, and by 1880 the S. A. Stevens furniture warehouse had occupied the corner of Main and Granby. In the next few years commercial enterprises took over the street as far north as City Hall Avenue, which in 1884 replaced Back Creek east of Granby. The Taylor Building, three stories tall, erected in 1885, was soon overshadowed by its towering neighbor, the Haddington Building, on the southeast corner oi Granby and City Hall Avenue, and in 1893 the Columbia Building, next to the Atlantic Hotel, provided more shops and offices. 73 Oppo¬ site the Taylor building stood the old Newton home, built almost a hundred years earlier on the shores of Back Creek, the last outpost ol the old residential era south of City Hall Avenue. On the north side of Back Creek was Lawrence’s oyster house, marked by a huge pile ol shells, and the docks of the McCullough Lumber Company. North of this point in 1893 Granby was still dominated by stately 72 Ibid., April 12, 1904. 73 The Columbia Building was destroyed in the great fire of Jan. 31, 1902, which also destroyed its neighbor, the Atlantic Hotel. Letter of Col. E. Griffith Dodson to the editor, January 23, 1961. In 1961 the Haddington Building was destroyed by fire, and a new facade on the Taylor Building concealed its name and date. 293 A Half-Century of Growth old residences. Most impressive was the charming old Tazewell man¬ sion, set off in spacious grounds behind a brick wall which stretched from what was to become Brooke Avenue almost to College Place. Next to it, the home of the Newton family had just become the public library, and across College Place was the Norfolk College for Young Ladies. Opposite the entrance to the Tazewell residence was the McIntosh home, with the Dickson place just below it and the Hardy house a little farther up the street. These homes, however, were soon destined to yield to the remorseless march of business north¬ ward. In 1898 the massive Monticello Hotel rose just south of the Dickson house on land which had been under the waters of Back Greek not many years before. Four years later the Tazewell mansion, ;hen nearly a century old, was moved to make room for a block of ousiness houses, leaving only Tazewell Street to mark its former site. By 1905 Back Creek had completely disappeared, as City Hall Avenue was extended west of Granby to provide more commercial sites. 74 [n another five years the northward advance had reached the corner rf Freemason, and lower Granby had become one of the most crowded, busy streets in the South. At the same time fine structures were going up on other streets. The post office, a handsome stone building, with classic fagade, on iffume Street at Atlantic, was completed in August, 1900. 75 At this ime the tallest building in Norfolk was the seven-story Citizens Bank Building, on Main Street, next to the Custom House. But in Decem¬ ber, 1904, the people were thrilled by the announcement that the city was to have a real skyscraper, a thirteen-story structure on Main, at Atlantic, to be erected by the Bank of Commerce. 76 This building, when it was completed, stood out like a lone tower, above Norfolk’s Tyline, to greet visitors on incoming steamers. Gradually, however, bther high buildings arose to challenge its ascendency, the most con- picuous being the Royster Building, on Granby near the Monticello. Norfolk was not yet a city of skyscrapers, but the river front presented j very different picture from the days before the Civil War, when 7 orrest described it so accurately. The little wooden wharves had been replaced by modern piers and warehouses; in place of the groves >f trees, with here and there a private residence peeping through the 74 Virginian-Pilot, Nov. 30, 1907. City Hall Avenue was extended west of Granby treet before May 25, 1905. Letter of Col. E. Griffith Dodson to the editor, July 20, 961. T5 Virginian-Pilot, June, 1900. 76 Ibid., Dec. 11, 1904. 294 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port foliage, were massive hotels or department stores, or office buildings; the dome of the City Hall, which then stood out above the neighbor¬ ing roofs, was almost hidden from view. One now saw tugs or ferry boats, or the bay steamer, with occasionally a great ocean liner, where once scores of schooners or brigs had been tied up. In 1903 the cornerstone was laid for a building which, although not comparable in size to the Bank of Commerce or the Royster Building, was not less important to the people of Norfolk. It was in August, 1870, that the Norfolk Library Association was organized, with Dr. Samuel Selden as the first president. A charter was secured in February, 1872. The library was first opened to the public in a large room in the Norfolk Academy, and here it remained for many years. In 1883, however, the books and other equipment were moved to the Y. M. C. A. building on Main Street. When the agreement with the Y. M. C. A. expired in 1893, the library was once more moved, this time to the Newton house, at the corner of Granby and College Place. The next year a new corporation, the Norfolk Public Library, took over the property of the old association. In 1901, when Andrew Carnegie offered the city fifty thousand dollars for a library building and the councils appropriated five thousand dollars for maintenance, this organization set to -work to secure a suitable lot. Their problem was solved in less than a year by the donation of a site on Freemason Street by the children of Dr. William Selden as a memorial to their father. Building operations began in October, 1903. The reputation of the Hampton Roads section as an all-year resort dates back to the days of the famous old Hygeia, at Old Point. The original building was erected in 1821, the lumber being supplied by Tunis and Park, of Norfolk. It was situated near the entrance to Fort Monroe, and consisted of one large room which served the double purpose of parlor and dining hall, with four chambers on either side, and the kitchen in an outhouse in the rear. 77 Here came in the days before the Civil War “public men weary of their cares, army and navy officers on furlough or retired, and the gay daughters of Virginia.” 78 In 1863 the Hygeia was razed by order of the United States government, and another building was erected farther away from the fort. In 1874 the property fell under the control of Mr. Phoebus, who developed it into one of the most famous resorts of the country. In 1880 the Hygeia was a long frame structure, with verandas 77 Ibid., Sept. 2, 1902. 78 Edward L. Pierce, Enfranchisement and Citizenship: Addresses and Paper < (Boston, 1896) , p. 32. 295 A Half-Century of Growth for each of its three stories, running the entire length of the building. There was “ample capacity for 600 guests” who could enjoy, in addi¬ tion to the bathing and the breezes of Hampton Roads, such modern improvements as “elevator, gas, and electric bell in every room,” and bathrooms on every floor. In 1902 this building was torn down. Al¬ though the Hygeia is now but a memory, the fame of Old Point Com¬ fort as a resort has been upheld by the Chamberlin Hotel. The bring¬ ing of various trunk lines to Norfolk accelerated a development dready under way, which made the Hampton Roads section a popular ill-year resort. In the meanwhile, Ocean View, on Chesapeake Bay, a few miles ,iorth of Norfolk, was also attracting many visitors. This suburb was established as a private summer resort in 1854, and after the Civil War t grew steadily in popularity. “For several winters past, invalids from he North have been making Norfolk their retreat,” it was stated in 1880. “Stopping over here for a rest, on their way to Florida, they nave been so pleased with our genial clime as to give up the idea of joing further south.” 79 So a hotel was erected at Ocean View, which from the first was crowded. Many were attracted, not only by the nildness of the climate, but by the facilities for hunting, fishing, and iding. The beach served also as a playground for the people of Nor- olk, and in the summer months crowds went out daily. The Ocean /iew Railroad Company ran trains from its station at Church and denry streets eight times a day, the “wheezing and puffing little coffee¬ pot engines,” covering the eight miles in twenty minutes. 80 The round- rip fare was thirty cents. With the advent of electric streetcars, the team engines were discarded, and the road electrified. In time Ocean /iew grew to the proportions of a large summer resort, with numerous lotels, cottages, and pavilions. In the 1920’s the old Ocean View Totel was torn down. 81 One of the most attractive features of this esort was the tourist camp, carved out of a forest of water-oaks, bay- oerries and hollies, and equipped with water, sewers, and electric lights. Ocean View, once regarded by the people of Norfolk as a re¬ note suburb, was annexed to the city in 1923. The development of Virginia Beach, on the Atlantic Ocean di- ectly east of Norfolk, followed hard on that of Ocean View. In 1883 Norfolk residents, with the aid of some Northern capital, purchased a 79 Jones, Norfolk, p. 37. ao Ibid., p. 39; Virginian-Pilot, Aug. 23, 1901. 81 Virginian-Pilot, Jan. 3, 1928. Norfolk: Historic Southern Port 296 large tract of land at this place, erected the Princess Anne Hotel, am connected it with Norfolk by a narrow-gauge steam road. The hote w T as a four-story structure with a veranda along the ocean front bedecked w T ith the towers, bay windows, and broken roof lines of th< day. A rough log wall, topped by a board walk, protected the lawi from the inroads of the sea. At the same time, privately-owned cot tages were put up, while “an artificial wood and labyrinth, a switch back railway, boats on the lake, a race course, and a zoological gar den” added to the attractions of the resort. Virginia Beach grev rapidly, until its hotels, boardinghouses, and cottages could accom modate twenty thousand people. The old narrow-gauge soon gave wa' to a modern electric line, run by the Norfolk Southern Railway In the 1920’s great advances were made—the erection of a splendic new hotel, the Cavalier, the construction of two miles of concrete sea wall and promenade, and the development of a fine highway to Nor folk. The Princess Anne Country Club added much to the charm o Virginia Beach. The club golf course, constructed in the center of < pine forest between the ocean and Linkhorn Bay, was one of the best in the country. Five miles north of Virginia Beach is Cape Henry famed as the spot first touched by the Jamestown settlers, in 1607 Here is the picturesque old lighthouse, the first to be erected by tin United States government, and here is Fort Story guarding the en trance to the Chesapeake. The period between the Civil War and the First World War found its culmination for Norfolk in the Jamestown Exposition of 1907. Sc early as 1900, a move had been made to commemorate the three hundredth anniversary of the establishment of the first permaneni English settlement in America. Many took for granted that tht exposition would be held at Richmond, but a delegation of promi nent citizens from the Norfolk section appeared before the Assembly and carried the day for Hampton Roads. On March 10, 1902, a bill was passed granting a charter for an exposition company on condition that capital stock of not less than $1,000,000 be subscribed by January 1, 1904. Despite the appointment of the popular General Fitzhugh Lee as president and the great enthusiasm for the project in tide¬ water Virginia, considerable difficulty was experienced in raising this sum. On December 23, 1902, the Academy of Music w r as filled to over flowing with an enthusiastic crowd, bent on stimulating interest in the exposition and increasing the stock subscriptions. General Lee was 297 A Half-Century of Growth absent, but disappointment at this fact was forgotten in the warmth with which the crowd greeted the appearance of Governor Montague. When Mr. Montague pointed out the importance of the exposition to Virginia, and especially to Norfolk, the house rang with applause. 82 41 though subscriptions began to come in more rapidly after this neeting, they still fell far short of the million-dollar mark. In fact, an December 31, 1903, with but a few hours of grace left, more than ane hundred thousand dollars were needed. That evening a group af representative men gathered in the rooms of the Board of Trade, determined on heroic efforts to close the gap. Slowly but surely the •emaining shares were subscribed, until at eleven o’clock only $5,400 was needed. Ten minutes later the news arrived that a meeting at New¬ port News had taken five thousand dollars. “Who will subscribe the •emaining $400?” it was asked. “I will, on behalf of the Norfolk- rlampton Roads Company,” said M. D. Lowenberg, director general af the exposition, and the great project was saved. That night the aeople of Norfolk greeted the New Year with especial enthusiasm, and he corridors of the Atlantic Hotel rang to cheers of the crowd ind the strains of “Dixie.” 83 In the meanwhile a tract of 340 acres at Sewells Point had been -purchased, and the work of construction begun. It was no light task o erect a miniature city on this isolated spot, to lay down a boulevard en miles to Norfolk, to pipe drinking water, to build piers, to pro- •ide lights and telephone service, to make streets and pavements, to i:rect a group of beautiful and permanent buildings, to set out lowers and shrubs. So many unavoidable delays occurred that when he day appointed for the opening arrived, the grounds were far rom complete. Nonetheless there was a grand parade, and President iloosevelt, who arrived on the Mayflower with a group of distin- uished diplomats, made a characteristic address. Virginia Day, marked by a great military and naval pageant, was he high water mark of the exposition. Despite threatening clouds the rowds began to assemble early, and by ten o’clock were surging hrough the Virginia building in an endless stream. At two all re¬ paired to the Lee Parade. Here, when Thomas Nelson Page had read ds poem The Vision of Raleigh and Governor Swanson had fol- Dwed with the address of the day, the great parade passed in review efore the governor, Admiral Evans, and General F. D. Grant. It 298 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port was an inspiring sight, the regulars and sailors swinging by in perfect form; the naval cadets in their white caps, blue blouses and trousers and white leggings; the Virginia Military Institute cadets with whitt trousers and plumed caps; the Virginia Polytechnic Institute boys ir full dress; and the Virginia and Georgia militia. 84 Despite these activities it was only on September 14 that the ex position was actually completed and in full operation. Visitors whc arrived after that date were rewarded by an interesting and beautifu spectacle. The two great government piers, shining white against th< water of Hampton Roads, were united by an artistic arch to form 1 basin called Smith Harbor. To the south was Raleigh Square leading up to the Court of Honor, with its sparkling fountain and it; two lagoons, and beyond was the stately administration building The central group of buildings included structures devoted to art, tc machinery and transportation, to food, to medicine, to manufacture; and liberal arts, to mines and metallurgy, to marine appliances. Tc the south of the administration building was the Lee Parade, anc beyond this the military encampment. To the right and left, facing Hampton Roads were the state buildings, many being replicas oi historic structures—the Old State House, for Massachusetts; Inde pendence Hall, for Pennsylvania; the Bullock House, for Georgia; the Carrollton mansion, for Maryland. The dignified buildings, the thousands of lights, the avenues set with trees and bushes, the waving pennants, all set off by the broad expanse of Hampton Roads, pre sented a picture of rare beauty. The Jamestown Exposition was harshly criticized by certain North ern journals. Some censured the delay in completing the grounds anc buildings, others thought there was too much emphasis on the pasi and not enough on the present and future. Yet on the whole, the great undertaking had been well done. Its influence in calling atten tion to the progress of the tidewater section and the vast opportuni ties which lay before it can hardly be exaggerated. No doubt the interest of many visitors was centered in the charming statue of Pocahontas, or the Captain John Smith group, or the Peter Stuy- vesant portrait; but others noted also Norfolk’s splendid shipping harbor, her rich back country, her network of railways. The James town Exposition was the forerunner of the greater Hampton Road; of the twentieth century. The half century from 1865 to 1915 was vital in the history of 84 Ibid., June 13, 1907. 299 A Half-Century of Growth Norfolk. Prior to this period the town had been the victim of one nalicious whim of fate after another. While other Atlantic ports, dthough less favorably located and possessing inferior harbors, had outdistanced her in the race for wealth and power; while New York, Boston, Philadelphia, and Baltimore counted their populations by he hundreds of thousands, Norfolk had remained an unimportant own of from ten to twenty thousand people. The burning of the own in 1776, the loss of the West India trade, the absorption by New fork of her import trade, the invention of the steamboat, the blocking if all attempts to connect the town with the interior by rail, the 'ellow fever epidemic of 1855, and the Civil War had been successive flows too severe to be parried even by the most enterprising and dive of populations. Now, however, these misfortunes were but unpleasant memories. Vith a network of splendid railways entering her doors, with numer- >us steamship lines ready to carry off the products which they brought n, with cotton and coal calling back to life the old foreign trade, nth the city’s health guarded by the advance of medical science, with icr adjacent territory transformed into a garden spot, fortune at last vas smiling upon the hitherto ill-fated place. Moreover, there was •very reason to expect continued growth, because of the rapid devel¬ opment of the South. After all, Norfolk was a Southern port; if that ection doubled and quadrupled its annual output, so would Nor¬ folk's trade double and quadruple. The opening of mines, the de- elopment of intensive agriculture, the establishment of factories (leant new business for the Southern railways, and greater activity m the wharves of the Elizabeth. It is unfair to say with the Northern press that Norfolk had been he victim of the slave system. The slave-made tobacco of the Virginia ilantations was long one of her main exports, the slave-made cotton f the Far South would eventually have reached her port had not mancipation intervened. But there can be no question that the free¬ ing of the slaves was the prelude to the rise of the New South, and hat the rise of the New South heralded a new era of prosperity for Norfolk. With the annual output of Virginia’s manufactures totaling ^675,000,000, of her crops nearly $300,000,000, with her coal mines ielding 12,000,000 tons, and her iron mines 63,000 tons, and with ther Southern states keeping step, there could be no fears for the uture of the South’s most convenient gateway. CHAPTER FOURTEEN Mars Moulds a Great City The course of Norfolk’s history has been affected profoundly by war. In the Revolution the town was destroyed; the War of 181: paralyzed her West Indian trade and brought on commercial stagna tion; the Civil War, despite the immediate misfortunes it entailed, wa. the beginning of a new era of prosperity; the First World W a greatly increased the population and made Hampton Roads one o the nation’s greatest ports. In 1914 Norfolk’s exports were $9,500,000 and imports $3,125,000; in 1926 exports had risen to $137,208,000 and imports to $16,868,000. As for the metropolitan area of Norfolk including Portsmouth, Newport News, Suffolk, and other town around Hampton Roads, the population in 1926 was a third of ; million, the foreign trade $220,000,000, and the entire water-borm commerce twenty million tons. Such rapid expansion was revolution ary. The little Norfolk of a few decades before had become a grea prosperous city, with exports equal in value to those of San Fran cisco, and far in advance of those of Baltimore, Philadelphia, o Boston. Like other American communities, Norfolk watched with breath less interest the commencement of hostilities in Europe in 1914. Mos of the people sympathized openly with the Allies, condemning th German invasion of Belgium, rejoicing in the victory of the Marnd protesting against the submarine sinkings of neutral shipping. As fo the problems of the government at Washington arising from th interference by both groups of belligerents with American trad( Norfolk gave the policies of President Wilson its full support. Th proclamation of neutrality, the protests against British seizures c S 01 Mars Moulds a Great City American vessels, the request for the recall of the Austrian am¬ bassador, the various notes concerning submarine sinkings, the peace proposals, all elicited approving editorial comment. 1 At first few anticipated that the United States would be vitally concerned. True, shipments to the Allies, and to a lesser extent to Germany through neutral countries, brought about a rapid increase in the exports from Hampton Roads, shipments from Norfolk rising Erom $9,500,000 in 1914 to $19,000,000 in 1915, and to $36,000,000 in 1916, and those of Newport News from $5,000,000 in 1914 to 170,286,000 in 1915. 2 True, in 1916 Norfolk took fourth rank among the cotton ports, her shipment of truck amounted to five million packages, and her bank clearings increased $41,000,000 over 1915. But these changes were regarded as transitory, and few were prepared for the more startling advances of the next few years. Norfolk applauded President Wilson’s war message of April 2, 1917. ‘That Congress will hesitate to take the steps urged on it by President Wilson ... is inconceivable,” said the Virginian-Pilot . 3 “The words if the President are those of truth and soberness; positive as befitted he occasion, and solemn as in keeping with a decision as momentous is that taken by the Continental Congress when it issued the Declara- ion of Independence.” Immediately the city resounded to the bustle of military prepara¬ tion and the tramp of soldiers. Recruiting for the Navy began the day liter the declaration of war, when several hundred pretty girls, tationed at street crossings, sought to persuade young men to enlist. 4 When Admiral Sims made an especial appeal to fill the complement )f the great battleship Nevada, mass meetings were held in various iarts of the city, while bluejackets drove through the streets in a frizzling rain to sign up the applicants. 5 1 By this time all Norfolk was aroused. It was imagined that Uncle iam’s chief contribution to the war would be naval, and the press ■ tnd public speakers pointed out that every seaport must do its part. \t a mass meeting in the Colonial Theatre, on April 15, impassioned deas for enlistment repeatedly brought the audience to its feet. 6 Five ‘lays later a great parade wound its way through the streets. In the : j 1 1 Norfolk Ledger-Dispatch, Feb. 13, 1917. 2 Year Book of Hampton Roads, 1927, p. 23. 8 April 4, 1917. 4 Virginian-Pilot, April 7, 1917. 5 Ibid., April 9, 1917. 6 Ibid., April 16, 1917. 302 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port lead was a squad of police, then came Chief Yeoman Quigley reprt senting Uncle Sam, next a platoon of mounted citizens, followed by brass band, a company of seamen, the Boy Scouts holding placard urging enlistment, high school girls, two army trucks decorated wit the flags of the Allies, a big fire engine, and a long line of automc biles. 7 Enthusiasm reached its height on April 28, when a little band c French sailors took part in a parade of marines, sailors, and natiom guardsmen. As the Frenchmen passed the Virginia Club, a number c women standing on the balcony beneath the tricolor showered ther with tulips. “For once forgetting discipline, the Frenchmen mingle their shouts with those of the crowd, many of them catching th flowers as they fell. As the marine band burst into the ‘Marseillaise hats were lifted and the throng went wild.” Fired by scenes such 2 these, young men enlisted in such numbers that by the first of Ma Norfolk led the list of cities in naval recruiting. 8 9 However, the full realization of the meaning of war came onl with the departure of the Norfolk detachments of the National Guart The Light Artillery Blues, famous for their work in the Civil Wa: were mustered in on June 30, 1917. On the day of their departure fc Fort Oglethorpe, Georgia, wives, sisters, sweethearts, and mothei gathered at the armory to say goodbye. It was a touching scene 2 khaki-clad youths, surrounded by admiring groups, awaited in th drill hall or in front of the building. At last came the whistle, a fe* last kisses or handshakes, and Norfolk’s first contingent had gone In the next few months the city was to become accustomed to sue scenes. The Fourth Virginia Regiment, with a number of Norfol companies, w r as called to arms, recruited, properly equipped, drillet and made ready for inclusion in the new National Guard Arm' On August 24 the troops paraded in Norfolk, through dense throng of cheering people. Early on September 4, the day of their departur for Camp McClellan, at Anniston, Alabama, Colonial Avenue, at th point where it crosses the Norfolk and Western, was obstructed by crowd of men, women, and children, assembled to bid their love ones goodbye. As the trains pulled out the men waved from th windows to mothers and sweethearts, who sobbed out their distress c 7 Ibid., April 21, 1917. 8 Ibid., April 28; May 2, 1917. 9 Arthur K. Davis, Virginia Communities in IVar Time (Richmond, 1926' p. 306; Virginian-Pilot, July 8, 1917. Mars Moulds a Great City 303 railed with pride. “It is not that I am sorry to see my boy go,” said one mother; “these tears are tears of pride.” 10 When it became known that the United States might send thou¬ sands to the battle front, necessitating the drafting of hundreds of nen from Norfolk, the people gave immediate approval. On June 5, 917, nearly ten thousand men went to the polls and registered under he draft act, 11 and in September the first contingent to be called to he colors left for Camp Lee, near Petersburg. Norfolk was not less proud of these men than of her other soldiers, and on September 22, ihe city and county united in a farewell dinner to one of the departing letachments. There were patriotic addresses, in which the men were auded as “the flower of the section’s young manhood,” who would tand before the German advance as immovable as the French at f/'erdun. The second quota of 447 men came at the end of June, 1918, nd three weeks later 292 Norfolk Negroes were summoned. Altogether he city’s contribution to the services, military and naval, whether fiembers of the National Guard, volunteer recruits, or drafted men, otaled several thousand men. 12 Norfolk also responded promptly to all calls for aid in financing he war. Each Liberty Loan quota was met and passed. A War Cam- 'aigns committee labored “to raise funds to help win the war.” All Norfolk rallied behind these organizations. Four-minute men, speak- ng at concerts, plays, and lectures, urged the people to invest with lifncle Sam; Liberty Loan posters explained the need of the govern¬ ment for funds; religious and social organizations urged on the cam- aign; the banks lent their facilities. Norfolk oversubscribed her uota for the first loan by $1,131,900, the second by $1,759,080, the jjjiird by $1,986,700, the fourth by $2,191,850, and the Victory Loan y $858,850. In all nearly $36,000,000 was subscribed. The extent to hich the people, poor as well as rich, supported the government ith their savings is indicated by the fact that on the fourth loan taere were 39,686 purchasers. Norfolk also passed her quota for war ivings stamps, the public schools alone taking no less than $400,000. 13 In the meanwhile the port of Flampton Roads, so long neglected y the state and the nation, was becoming a great gateway for ocean affic. With the wharves and piers of New York inadequate to the 10 Virginian-Pilot, Sept. 5, 1917. 11 Ibid., June 6, 1917. 12 Davis, Virginia Communities in War Time, pp. 310-313. 13 Ibid., pp. 314-317; Virginian-Pilot, April 5, June 15, 1918. 304 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port sudden demand upon them, with the railways leading to the metrop¬ olis congested, it was necessary for both the government and private shippers, to seek additional outlets. Inevitably their eyes turned to Norfolk and Newport News. Their unsurpassed harbor, with its eight trunk railways, its nearness to the ocean, its accessibility to the great coal and cotton regions of the South, had obvious advantages over other Atlantic ports. So its commerce doubled, tripled, quad¬ rupled. Looking out from Sewells Point, one can see “great hulls from Norway, Sweden, and Denmark, uncamouflaged and beaten by the seas until they are the sea’s own gray,” said the Virginian-Pilot; “French barks and British merchantmen; ships from China and from Russia, from Argentina, and from the West Indies. . . . The whole beautiful expanse of Hampton Roads is today populous with mer¬ chant craft, that fly the flags of all the world. One can watch the harbor from dawn until dark, and the number and variety and fascination of the vessels there seems endless. From the Norfolk side ships are to be seen taking on cargo and bunker at the great coal piers; still others are in the stream waiting their turn, while all about them ply the small, busy harbor craft, and an occasional big govern¬ ment dredge engaged in the work of making anchorages. In the dis¬ tance, tramps and sailing vessels, barges and schooners, show dim against the horizon. Then, towards Newport News, one sees the merchant ships in great array—numbers of them anchored in long lines, others clustered in groups about the busy docks and piers.” 1 * The principal article of export was coal. There was urgent need of fuel in war-torn Europe, and nowhere could it be had more readil) than at Hampton Roads. Long trains moved in unending stream' from the West Virginia fields, to dump their burdens into the holds and bunkers of the vessels at the piers at Sewells Point, Lamberts Point, and Newport News. In 1917 the exports of Norfolk and Ports¬ mouth alone totaled 10,903,137 tons, of which 10,469,060 were c6al The next year, when the United States was straining every nervt to perfect her new war industries and when the railways were taxec to the limit to carry troops and war supplies, much of the coal front Hampton Roads was diverted to domestic ports. New r England needec fuel for her factories, and since sufficient coal could not be carried b) rail through New York, the coal-carrying steamers from Virginia waters began turning their prows northeastward. In 1917 Norfolk’s 14 Virginian-Pilot, Dec. 1, 1918. Mars Moulds a Great City 305 lomestic shipments of coal were only 289,710 tons, in 1918 they umped to 5,525,75s. 15 It is rare indeed for the commerce of Hampton Roads to be inter¬ rupted by cold weather, for the winters are mild and open, the tarbor usually free from ice. But in the winter of 1917-1918, the wa- er froze, shipping was paralyzed, and freight piled up on the piers md wharves. Great battleships, which were set to work to break he ice, often could make little headway. Even when a channel was leared to the coal piers, the steamer might have to wait for its cargo, jecause the coal had frozen and could not be dumped until steam lipes had been run through the cars. Jack Frost was proving a r aluable ally for the Kaiser. 16 Nor did coal stand alone in Norfolk’s war commerce. Norfolk and ’ortsmouth sent out to other American ports in 1917 half a million ons of fruits and vegetables, 76,000 tons of tobacco, 66,000 tons of tetroleum products, 36,000 tons of lumber, 76,000 tons of cotton, ;3,ooo tons of fish, oysters and clams; receiving in return 546,000 tons if iron and steel manufactured articles, 300,000 tons of petroleum iroducts, 136,000 tons of dry goods, 200,000 tons of fertilizer, 337,792 ons of canned goods, 85,000 tons of sugar, and miscellaneous goods o the amount of five and a half million tons. 17 To foreign ports the ities sent flour, wheat, cotton, steel billets, and tobacco. Imports, vhile small compared with exports, were vastly greater than in ormer years. The chief item was nitrate of soda, for when the blockade of Germany cut off the supply of kainite, the manufacturers if fertilizers were forced to turn to the nitrates of Chile. The War Joard, not wishing to use American bottoms, forced many Nor- yegian, Swedish, and Danish vessels to carry on this trade, by hreatening to withhold bunker coal. In 1917 no less than 363,865 pns of nitrate was brought to Norfolk, the next year 411,195 tons. 18 Commerce was still further augmented by the activities of the Ja T, al Overseas Transportation Service. When the United States ntered the war there were but six transports in commission on the Atlantic seaboard, chiefly employed in the Panama service. When it ras decided to send a great army to France and to supply it from the jnited States, this little nucleus had to be expanded into a fleet of cean carriers. The interned German ships, totaling 460,000 tons, and 15 War Department, Port Series (Washington, 1927) , No. 15. 16 Virginian-Pilot, Jan. 6; Feb. 2, 1918. 17 War Department, Port Series, No. 15. 18 Virginian-Pilot, Dec., 1918; War Department, Port Series, No. 15. Norfolk: Historic Southern Port 3°6 a Dutch fleet of 300,000 tons were pressed into service, and these, wit! other accessions, brought the total, on December 1, 1918, to 512 vessel of 3,246,000 tons. 19 A large part of the fleet operated from Hampto, Roads, 288,000 troops and vast quantities of supplies going out fror its wharves. Here the scene during the rush months of 1918 was busy one indeed, when the men in khaki were transferred from thei trains to the transports, and workmen loaded the supply ships wit everything needed by the Army in France—uniforms, stocking; blankets, shoes, hats, canned food, sugar, meat, locomotives, moto trucks, steel rails, horses, mules, airplane parts, medical supplies, gun; rifles, ammunition. The advantages of Norfolk for both ocean and railway 20 traffic ir duced the Federal government to establish there the greatest Arm base in the country, with concrete warehouses, miles of track, a rifl factory, and one or more huge piers. At the time, work was in prot ress on a municipal terminal near Sewells Point, which was to be cor nectecl with the railways entering Norfolk by an extension of the Bel Line. The government, taking over this property, pushed on th work vigorously. Workmen were brought in from all parts of th country, 21 new mains extended the city water system to the base, lumber and other materials poured in over the railways. Built ings and piers rose as if by magic. “No private terminals were eve so lavishly provided with everything in the way of modern equipmen The derricks and giant cranes could shift a crate of eggs delicatel and softly, or they could swing a locomotive from the piers to th hold of a transport with the same ease.” It is estimated that the bas cost the government thirty million dollars. Though Norfolk was the center of a great food-producing regioi and though food and fuel were pouring through Hampton Road the people suffered during the war for lack of both food and coa While the needs of the Allies were so pressing, those of this America community, a community from which shipment abroad was easy, ri ceived secondary consideration. The gas company was forced to lim its output, certain “lightless nights” were set aside, at the request of th Federal Fuel Administration, and electric signs and lights in front c theaters -were prohibited. “With the dimming of lights on the whit way the moon, after almost a half-century of neglect, became a 19 Colonel Leonard P. Ayres, The War with Germany (Washington, 1919), p. 3 20 Ibid., pp. 44-47; Virginian-Pilot, Jan. 19, 1919. 21 Virginian-Pilot, Sept. 2, 1918. 22 Ibid., Jan. 10, 1918. Mars Moulds a Great City 307 mportant factor of the life of Norfolk,” said the Virginian-Pilot. during the winter of 1917-1918, heatless days and a temporary sus- lension of industry to economize in coal caused no little suffering, 23 ind on one occasion a number of people in Newport News, desperate it the prospect of sickness in their families, actually raided the coal ards. 24 Although the food shortage was not so acute, Norfolk’s situation in his respect also was unusual. The housewives, as everywhere, were irged to save food. “You are called upon to render a blow to Kaiser- sm by helping to keep the soldiers of America and the Allies in ood,” they were told. Thousands of families voluntarily reduced their lonsumption of wheat, butter, sugar, and meat, and so early as Oc- ober, 1917, the hotels were observing the rule of meatless Tuesdays. This abstinence, aggravated by a serious shortage of sugar, bread, ,nd milk, resulting in part from the unexpected influx of strangers 0 Norfolk, was not the least of the people’s sacrifices. 25 For the trucking interests of Norfolk the situation became tragic. Vith city dwellers converting their back yards into gardens, with housands of schoolchildren becoming amateur farmers, with the r ood Administrator calling loudly for more and more vegetables, they tad a right to look forward to a great expansion of their activities. In- tead, they were forced to curtail production. The government Irained off so many of their laborers for work at Norfolk that they ould not cultivate all their acres, and with the railways choked with roops and war supplies, it was difficult to market what they did raise. Their complaints poured in on the government. One farmer stated hat he had only three men to work seven hundred acres of land, nother, one man for four hundred acres. “How can we hold our iborers,” they said, “when the government contractors offer them 3.50 for an eight-hour day, with 66 cents an hour for overtime? Vhile the Food Administrator is urging production, we have hun¬ dred of acres of wheat uncut, whole farms of potatoes undug.” But the bvernment could do nothing for them, and thousands of acres of the tost fertile land in the United States remained idle at the moment then food was of supreme importance. 26 In the meanwhile the Navy Department had decided to create on Hampton Roads the greatest naval base in the United States, and was 23 Ibid,., Feb. 1, 1918. 24 Ibid., Jan. 4, 1918. 25 Davis, Virginia Communities in War Time, pp. 318-321. 26 Virginian-Pilot, Jan. 29, Feb. 2, Feb. 3, Feb. 5, 1918. Norfolk: Historic Southern Port S°8 considering the relative advantages of Sewells Point and a site nea Yorktown. The former was finally selected. On June 28, 1917, Presi dent Wilson set aside $2,800,000 for the purchase of the land and tlr erection of the first storehouses and piers. A tract of about 474 acre was secured, of which 367 had been the old Jamestown Expositioi grounds, while one hundred belonged to the Pine Beach develop ment. The first step was to create a naval training camp. Work 01 this unit was begun on July 4, and pushed forward with such rapidit that by August 4 barracks, mess halls, and storehouses for sevei thousand five hundred men had been completed, roads constructed and three miles of railway laid down. This was the beginning. The government designed for the base no only an enormous supply station, but an aviation station, a submarin base, and another training camp. A preliminary step was the erectioi of a great bulkhead, 22,150 feet long, at a cost of $3,104,281. Nex came the work of dredging, to provide thirty-five foot channels to th merchandise piers, and to fill in the areas back of the bulkhead This work, which cost $2,373,000, added over three hundred acres t< the area of the base. All during the autumn of 1917, and throughou 1918, the work continued. The cry was for speed, regardless of e> pense. Two piers, 1,400 feet long, and 125 feet broad, were throwr out into the Elizabeth River; on the northwest point was made a sub marine basin with room for thirty-one vessels; on the north a lagooi for airplanes; and further east a landing field for airplanes and diri gibles. Great buildings of concrete arose as if by magic—hangar; two six-story warehouses, a huge cold-storage warehouse and ice plant, an aircraft storehouse, mine-storage warehouses, hospita wards, laundries, barracks, mess halls, garages, bakeries, machin shops, armories, drill halls, officers’ quarters, and hundreds of othe buildings. 27 The historic old Navy Yard at Gosport also became the scene 0 intense activity. The yard was enlarged; fitting-out piers were cor structed with cranes, trolley, tracks, capstan, and conduits; a dr dock, 1,011 feet long, 144 feet wide, and 40 feet deep, was laid dowi for the accommodation of the greatest battleships. The dock, whic required the removal of 625,000 cubic yards of earth and the pourin of 184,000 cubic yards of concrete, has been called “the most con plicated piece of mass concrete construction ever built in this corn 27 Navy Department, World War, Activities of Bureau of Y’ards and Docks, pj 1 3 2 ' 1 43 - Mars Moulds a Great City 309 ry.” 28 At the naval hospital, also, a program of expansion was under- aken. Eight temporary wards were built in the rear of the main .ospital, and a large group of emergency buildings added on the ?est, including subsistence house, corps barracks, and wards. Before he close of the war the establishment had become the largest naval ospital on the Atlantic coast. 29 The problem of securing labor proved difficult. Not only was every vailable workman in the vicinity of Norfolk employed, but agents coured other parts of Virginia and the nation. Men were brought in rom Minnesota, Kansas, Kentucky, and Texas. “If you see any un- elievably wide-brimmed hat,” said the Virginian-Pilot, “there is ither a Texan or a Kentuckian under it.” 30 Hundreds of country iris, lured by stories of high wages and city life, came to Norfolk to eek employment as stenographers or clerks. One agent brought 294 ouths from Evansville, Indiana, and then left them to shift for them- dves. Private concerns entered the competition for workers, adding a the already acute shortage, and boosting wages. The effect on the rborers themselves was bad. Regular mechanics were content to 7ork steadily, but many of the transients became insolent and shift- ess, wandering from job to job, in quest of the highest wages and 'ghtest work. Month after month the stream of laborers poured into he city, until the population swelled to twice its normal size. 31 The housing problem became acute. Men in the services found it ifficult to secure houses or apartments for their families; workmen /ere forced to crowd in wherever there was a vacant room; rentals rot up at an alarming rate. Accusations of profiteering became rife, >nd the appeals for government regulation insistent. In some cases ervicemen refused to vacate at the expiration of their leases, on the rounds that they could not live on the sidewalks while engaged in ctivities vital to the success of the war. Finally the government ecided to erect houses of its own and laid plans for three residential :ommunities: at Glenwood, near the Naval Base; at Truxton, out- de Portsmouth; and at Cradock, on Paradise Creek. The Glenwood reject was eventually discontinued, and the other two were merely 1 the preliminary stages when the Armistice was signed. 32 2 S Ibid., pp. 239, 240. 29 Ibid., pp. io8-i 11. 30 Virginian-Pilot, Sept. 2, 1918. 31 Davis, Virginia Communities in War Time, pp. 331-335. 32 Ibid., pp. 334, 335; Navy Department, Activities of Bureau of Yards and Docks, p. 498-500. 310 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port Hand in hand with the huge government activities went the d velopment of private industry. Many new plants came to Norfol during the war; old concerns doubled their capacity. The America Chain Company, the British-American Tobacco Company, E. I. Di Pont de Nemours and Company, the Linde Air Products Corporatioi the Virginia Coal and Navigation Company, the Standard Oil Con pany were among the important concerns which opened new plan in or near the city. The Norfolk Shipbuilding and Dry Dock Con pany, in Brambleton, which in 1 g 16 employed forty men, in Jun 1918, employed seven hundred. The Chesapeake and Potomac Tel phone Company doubled the size of its exchange and added te thousand new telephones. 33 These great changes, so revolutionary in character, so rapid an unexpected, strained the public and private utilities of the city to tf utmost. “Within the space of a few months Norfolk has sprung ini the dimensions of a great city,” the Virginian-Pilot pointed out i January, 1918. “It has become almost overnight the center of goverr ment activities, involving the expenditure of millions, and transforn ing its outlying districts into hives of industry crowded with bui workers. The population has increased by leaps and bounds, tran portation lines are overtaxed with shipments by land and water. Tf harbor is filled with vessels flying the flags of all nations awaiting the turn to discharge or take on freight. Business of all kinds has e panded beyond facilities to handle it. Public utilities are inadequa to the business imposed on them. In short Norfolk has outgrown tl conditions existing when swept down upon by a tidal wave of pro ress, and in order to ride upon the flood of prosperity must put asit her outgrown garments and equipments.” While this transformation was in progress, Norfolk men were figh ing gallantly at the front. The Fourth Virginia, uppn its arrival . Camp McClellan, was absorbed into other units, most of the me going into the 116th Infantry. The Light Artillery Blues, w T hich ha been Battery B of the First Regiment, Virginia Field Artillery, b came a part of the 111th Field Artillery. Both the 116th Infantry ar the 111th Field Artillery were a part of the Twenty-ninth Divisio known as the Blue and Gray. 34 33 Davis, Virginia Communities in War Time, pp. 322, 323; Virginian-Pih Dec. 29, 1918. 3 i Ibid., pp. 306, 307; John H. Cutchins, History of the Twenty-ninth Divisii (Philadelphia, 1921), pp. 13, 14. Mars Moulds a Great City 311 The men remained at Camp McClellan until June, 1918. Here, in le beautiful foothills of the Blue Ridge, they went through their reliminary training. Under the able direction of Major General harles G. Morton, assisted by French, British, and American tutors, ley were instructed in trench digging, grenade throwing, the use of the ayonet, and rifle shooting. With the approach of the summer of 1918, le division was ready to leave for France, and the Norfolk men with le 116th went to Hoboken, where they sailed on the transport Fin- ind on June 15. 35 Arriving at St. Nazaire, the regiment disembarked, and moved in ox cars, each labeled “hommes—40, chevaux—8,” to the camp at hamplitte. France seemed strange and interesting indeed to the iorfolk boys—“the neat little gardens, the quaint peasant women ith their rosy cheeks, white caps, black frocks, and wooden shoes, nd the solemn ‘undertakerish’ looking men in their wide brim felt ats.” When the train pulled into Champlitte, “the men with all quipment slung, marched up the dark, silent, winding, cobbled xeets of the small French village. . . . No tents now—the companies r ere split up into small groups of ten, fifteen, or twenty men, and as- gned to a hay loft there, a cow stable there, or possibly, to an bandoned monastery, built in the fourteenth century.” 36 The stay at Champlitte was short. Every available division was eeded at the front, and the 116th took over a quiet sector in Alsace p release more seasoned troops. Here they got their “first view of ostile aircraft” and had their first experiences with life in the renches, with German raids, and American counter-raids. Late in eptember came the order to proceed to the front. “Then began a eries of night hikes and one day stands.” We catch a glimpse of the ardships of war from the reminiscences of one of the men. “About 130 in the morning it began to rain very hard. Those sleeping on the round in the open were rather out of luck. So were the rest of us at :oo a.m., when orders came to pack up once more. With mud up to tie shoe tops and inky blackness, and with a high wind blowing, it ?as no easy matter to roll our soaking blankets in the packs. But we /ere not amateurs, and we were soon on a ten mile hike to the Dwn of Bruges. We arrived there at 8:00 a.m., drenched through and tirough. Our hike was lightened by thoughts of securing dry billets, 35 Cutchins, History of the Twenty-ninth Division, pp. 1-62; Davis, Virginia Com- mnities in War Time, p. 307. 36 Cutchins, History of the Twenty-ninth Division, pp. 74-75. 312 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port but no such luck. We arrived at a worse place than that which we h; left; a bleak, cold, muddy hillside.” 37 On September 26 General Pershing had launched his great P gonne-Meuse offensive. Day after day, week after week, the Americ; divisions had been battling their way north through forests, ov ravines, fortified hills, ruined cities, trenches, and machine-gun nes until, early in October, they had made a great salient in the Germ; lines from Samogneux along the Meuse to Brieulles, and thence wt to the Argonne. The salient itself was a source of danger to tl Americans. Not only did it permit the Germans to fire down upon the right flank from the heights east of the Meuse, but it exposed the to counterattack in the rear. So General Pershing planned an offe sive east of the river to straighten out the line, and placed the bru of the attack upon the Twenty-ninth. 38 It is probable that few of the brave men who took part in t) offensive of October 8 realized just what it was their commande asked them to do. Ornes, a few miles to the east, was the point junction for several of the great German lines of defense. From radiated, like spokes from the hub of a wheel, the Brabanter Stellun the Hagen Stellung, the Volker Stellung, and the Kriemhild Stellun To advance five miles the troops would have to storm as many lines fortifications as their comrades farther west in ten or fifteen miles. 1 other words, they had to break a pivotal point of the entire Germt system of fortifications. 39 The 116th and 115th regiments, associated with the Eighteen) French Division under the command of General Andlauer, we placed in line from the Meuse to Marmont Farm, with the Thirt third American Division on the left and the Twenty-sixth French c the right. On the night of the seventh, French and American enginee built four bridges over the river, while the various units toiled throug the night to gain their positions. “It was nearly dark, and a misty rai was falling when the battalion set out on its 23 kilometer hike 1 Samogneux. It was fair going to the Meuse crossing at Vacherauvill but from there across Talou Hill to Samogneux was a hell of barbe wire, debris, shell holes, and trenches, the wreck of a battlefiel which in the pitchy blackness of the night seemed to be a frenzied ma of shattered but still living forms blocking the way.” Shortly aft 37 Ibid., p. 131. 38 Shipley Thomas, History of the A. E. F. (New York, 1920) , p. 311. 39 Cutchins, History of the Twenty-ninth Division, p. 147. Mars Moulds a Great City 313 t nidnight the head of the column arrived at Samogneux, and the /arious infantry and machine gun companies were conducted to their .! places. At five o’clock the next morning the silence was broken by the ' :rash of hundreds of guns; and the men, lighting their cigarettes as hey went, advanced under the cover of the barrage. On they went, U)ver the Brabanter Stellung, past Haumont, over the Malbrouck Mill, through the Bois de Brabant. After the first half hour the 1 Germans resisted bitterly, and the Americans were repeatedly sub- ected to machine-gun, rifle, grenade, and minenwerfer fire. Yet they ebushed on, unmindful of their losses, until at nightfall their line ran t through the northern outskirts of the Bois de Consenvoyne, three , niles from Samogneux, and the threat to Pershing’s right flank had been removed. Days of bitter fighting followed. Now the men were cleaning out he machine-gun nests at the ruins of Ormont Farm, now charging icross the open ground in the face of a withering fire, now sweeping jpver the Ravin de Molleville, now charging into the hell of the Bois le la Grande Montagne, until, on the night of October 29, the divi¬ sion was relieved by the Seventy-ninth. It was a record to be proud of, the record established by the Blue and Gray division, in this, its jbnly great battle. For three weeks they had fought unceasingly, work¬ ing their way forward slowly, through a maze of German defenses, responding nobly to every call, accomplishing all that was humanly (possible. As they marched to the rear, weary in soul and body, emaciated, with eyes sunken, voices husky, their clothes in tatters, ; they had the consciousness of duty courageously performed. The divi¬ sion had advanced four and a half miles, had captured 2,148 prison¬ ers and 21 pieces of artillery, and had suffered the loss of 6,159 men. 411 The war record of Norfolk’s draft men was equally fine. Most of the men were sent to Camp Lee, at Petersburg, where they were in¬ corporated in the 318th Infantry of the 80th Division. 41 After months of intensive training, on May 18, 1918, they left for their port of embarkation. The men thought they were destined for Newport News, [but as the train passed Waverly, Wakefield, Suffolk, and other fami¬ liar stations, they realized that they were headed for “good old Nor¬ folk.” But their glimpse of home was fleeting. At seven-thirty in the morning they arrived at the west Boissevain government pier, and 40 Thomas, History of the A. E. F., p. 461. 41 Virginian-Pilot , Sept. 5, 1917. 314 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port filed on board the transport Red Italia. At noon they steamed dowi the river and, heading north, joined a fleet of transports and suppl ships, guarded by destroyers. The voyage across was uneventful unti within a short distance of the French coast, when, near Belle Isle they were attacked by submarines. The destroyers opened with s< deadly a fire that one of the attackers was sent to the bottom, and th others forced to submerge. Although the U-boats renewed their ai tempt the next day, the entire fleet arrived safely at St. Nazaire. 4 On June 3 the men crowded into French box cars and moved oi slowly for Calais. If they thought this mode of traveling uncomfori able, they soon discovered that it was superior to hiking along ; highway with a heavy pack on one’s back. “After going awhile fellow imagines some one has hung the Post Office or the Royste building on his back,” wrote one of the soldiers. 43 The divisioi assembled in the Sammer training area for instruction by the Six teenth Irish and the Thirty-fourth English divisions. 44 At Montaigi Farm, near Hesdigrieuf, they were practiced in the manual of arm and the use of machine gun, bayonet, rifle, grenade, and gas mask The Eightieth next moved to the Third British Army sector, to takr post in the secondary lines between Arras and Albert. Here certaii units were attached to British divisions, and got their first taste q fire in the trenches. Four hundred casualties occurred at this point. 4 The division was then moved across northern France to joii the First American Army around the St. Mihiel salient, and was hel( in reserve during the offensive of September 12-15. I 1 was l h er hastened off to take part in the great Argonne-Meuse advance. Takinj its place in line before Bethincourt, between the Thirty-third Divisioi on the right, and the Fourth on the left, it was in readiness for thi attack on the night of September 25. “The next morning our artiller opened with the heaviest fire I ever saw,” wrote one Norfolk boy “The artillery was placed hub to hub. At 6:00 a.m. we went ovei the top in a light fog, advancing against the Germans seven kilo meters. We took many prisoners and saw many German dead. Mos of the prisoners were pleased, apparently, and imagined they woulc be sent to the United States.” 46 The right of the division reached th< 42 Ibid., March 19, 1919. 43 Ibid. 44 Thomas, History of the A. E. F., p. 109. 45 Ibid., p. 110. 46 Virginian-Pilot, March 9, 1919. Mars Moulds a Great City 3*5 vleuse that day beyond Dannevoux, but the left was held up before he Bois de Septsarges. “On the 27th, while mopping up, six or seven of us captured 29 Germans and two pieces of heavy artillery,” wrote one of the men. ‘The dead and dying about were awful, and the narrow escapes a ellow has are truly unbelievable. We advanced more on the 27 th and ;8th, when we met strong resistance at the Meuse River.” 47 Early on he twenty-eighth the Germans counterattacked from the town of Irieulles, but were checked by determined rifle and machine-gun ire. But the Eightieth, when in turn it tried to take Brieulles, was re- jeatedly thrown back. Since the town seemed impregnable, and since he frontage of the division was now greatly reduced by the character )f the terrain, it was taken out of line and held in reserve. It had ‘made a brilliant success” in its first great battle. 48 The men were not permitted to rest long. On October 3 they were sack in line in front of Nantillois. On the fourth, when they went orward again, they encountered a concentrated fire from the Bois des Dgons, and could make little headway. “We went over the top four imes in three days. Living in filth, thirsty, hungry, unshaved, covered vith mud, blood and cooties, we never fully appreciated the danger.” t was only after a terrific struggle that they swept through the Bois les Ogons. And when this had been accomplished a new obstacle pre- ented itself in the Madeleine Farm. Several more days of heroic ighting continued, but this point could not be carried, and the livision was once more withdrawn for rest and recruiting. As the weary men marched back to Le Chemin, the devastation through which they passed reminded them of Dante’s Inferno, and upon emerging into the peaceful country beyond, they were awakened as : rom a nightmare by the sight of cottages and gardens, and the ;aughter of little children. But the end was not yet. With the men refreshed and with ranks mce more filled, the division took its place in line for the third and ast phase of the Argonne-Meuse drive. This time the resistance was weaker, the advance more rapid. In one mighty push they went for¬ ward with the Seventy-seventh on their left and the Second to the ight, past Imecourt, Verpel, through the difficult Bois de Four and Bois de Gerache, on to the strongly held town of Yoncq. Here, in the « Ibid. 48 Thomas, History of the A. E. F., p. 251. 316 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port face of a terrible flanking fire from the hills across the Meuse, th division swept the Germans back and advanced to the Yoncq-Beau mont road. “The 8oth division, commanded by General Cronkhitt left the field with conscious pride in its battle record. Three times in each of the three phases, it had smashed its way forward in th Meuse-Argonne battle, and its fighting was in the open rolling coun try where the German resistance was greatest. It advanced ... 2. miles, and captured 103 officers, 1,710 men, and 88 pieces of artillery and lost a total of 210 officers and 5,464 men.” 49 Five days later when Norfolk’s soldiers were still resting from thei heroic exertions, the city of Norfolk itself was aroused by the din o shrill whistles. Instantly men, women, and children, abandoning busi ness, housework, and school, poured into the streets. Main and Granb’ soon were jammed with a mob of joy-crazed people, shouting, singing gesticulating, laughing, weeping. The din was deafening. Added to th< cheering of many thousands of people was the noise of toy-drums cow-bells, automobile horns, and whistles. Every building was deco rated with the flags of the Allies, many automobiles were gay witl bunting. When a detachment of bluejackets came swinging down the streets the crowd parted to make room, at the same time redoublinj their cheering. Not until the small hours of the next morning did th< city regain its composure and its people retire to rest. Thus did Nor folk celebrate the signing of the Armistice. 50 A long wait followed for the return of the soldiers. It took time t< bring back to the United States the vast American army in France and it was only in May, 1919, that it became known that the Twenty ninth Division was on its way home. On May 20 a committee on th< Gratitude went to Newport News to welcome the 16th Infantry Five days later the 111th Field Artillery, containing the old Ligh Artillery Blues, came in on the Virginian. Only a favored few wen permitted on the dock, but hundreds of impatient mothers, fathers wives and sweethearts waited outside. As the transport docked, “one had only a glimpse of power at first, then every inch of space abovt and below decks massed with living khaki. There was a deep silence then in an instant the spell was broken. The band played the Star: and Stripes Forever, the boys were waving and shouting.” Asked i they were glad to get home, the soldiers merely breathed in one mighty chorus ‘Ah!’ ” 51 49 Ibid., p. 350. 50 Virginian-Pilot, Nov. 12, 1918. 51 Ibid., May 26, 1919. Mars Moulds a Great City 317 June 22 to June 28 was set aside as “Home-Coming Week.” A com- nittee of prominent citizens prepared an elaborate program, marked iy church services, song festivals, parades, athletic sports, a water carnival, a picnic and barbecue, the demobilization of flag service, eceptions, a ball, the conferring of medals upon servicemen. A riumphal arch was erected at Granby Street and City Hall Avenue, vhile the whole city was a mass of flags. Everywhere were booths, un by fraternal societies, where food, drinks, and cigarettes were landed out to all in uniform. The men who had gone through the nferno of the Meuse heights, of the Bois des Ogons, and Madeleine "arm, were made to feel that Norfolk was not unmindful of their oravery and their sacrifices. 52 52 Davis, Virginia Communities in War Time, pp. 349-350. CHAPTER FIFTEEN Peaceful Expansion Ihe tremendous activities of the war period convinced th« people of Norfolk that a change in the city government was necessary With the population increasing by leaps and bounds, with the wate problem acute, with the schools, police, transportation, housing in adequate, there was need for prompt and vigorous action on thi part of the councils. But the councils, from their very nature, fount it difficult to act either promptly or vigorously. The board of alder men served as a check on the council, the council as a check on th< aldermen, and the mayor as a check on both. Unless a change wa made at once, it seemed that the city must be strangled by its owr rapid growth. So the commission-manager form of government was proposed, anc November 20, 1917, set as the date for the people to decide. Undei the new plan the voters were to elect a Council of five members, who in turn, selected a city manager to act as the chief executive in al business matters. To assist him the city manager appointed, subjec to the approval of the Council, the heads of the departments of Public Welfare, Public Works, Public Safety, Law, and Finance. In this way ii was hoped to bring vigor, efficiency, and progressiveness into the gov ernment without depriving the people of their ultimate control. But the conservative group had no idea of submitting without a bat tie. “The city-manager will be an autocrat,” they said. “The ring in it; palmiest days would look like a society for the prevention of cruelt) to children, compared to this new form of government,” said one “The old time boss would look like a tissue-paper sport, comparec with the City Manager.” 1 So intense were the “Old Fogies” that some began speaking on the street corners, and it became a commor 1 Virginian-Pilot, Nov. 15, 1917. Peaceful Expansion 319 >ccurrence to find at Granby and City Hall Avenue, or Main and church, large crowds gathered around listening to their arguments. 2 Dn the evening of November 14 both the advocates and the opponents >f the change held meetings, the former in the Maury High School, md the latter in Eagles’ Hall, on Church Street. 3 “I favor the new harter,” said one speaker, “because it has a tendency to promote fficiency and economy in the government of the city. There is too nuch lost motion in the machinery of our municipal organization.” 4 That the people of Norfolk concurred in this view is indicated by he overwhelming majority accorded the charter, 3,403 votes being :ast for, and only 1,222 against it. According to the Virginian-Pilot, he success of the movement was largely due to the carefully planned md perfectly executed campaign of the Citizens’ Union, made up of epresentatives of all parties and factions, which had used every legiti- nate method to educate the voters. As for the opposition, they con- ended themselves with the simple statement: “They rose up and mote us.” 5 The Virginia legislature granted the desired charter, and, in Sep- ember, 1918, the commission-manager form of government was put nto operation. The Council was fortunate in its selection of the first city manager. Charles E. Ashburner, the son of an English army officer, vho had been educated in England, France, and Germany, came to the Jnited States to begin his career as an engineer. In 1908, he became he first city manager in the United States when Staunton introduced die new plan of city government as an experiment; after working ;everal years in Richmond, he left in 1914 to become city manager in Springfield, Ohio, where he remained until called to Norfolk. “Quick if thought, indefatigable, he is a man of strong opinions. . . . No me ever doubts his utter honesty. ... At times pugnacious, again ,/ery mellow, always driving for essentials, Charles E. Ashburner, the 'ounder of a new profession, is undoubtedly a personality.” 6 Mr. Ashburner found himself in charge of a city of more than 130,- loo people, whose municipal facilities were designed for a population pf fifty or sixty thousand, so that it was necessary to re-equip almost every department to meet the increased demands upon it. His atten¬ tion was at once directed to the poor condition of the streets. In some j 2 Ibid., Nov. 11, 1917. 3 Ibid., Nov. 15, 1917. 4 Ibid., Nov. 2, 1917. 5 Ibid., Nov. 21, 1917. 6 Collier’s Weekly, May 27, 1922: Leonard White, The City Manager (Chicago, J 9 2 7 ) > PP- 9 1 * 9 2 - 320 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port sections of the city automobiles and trucks still had to bump ovt cobblestones which had done service before the Civil War; elsewhei they were apt to get stuck in the mud. Of the one hundred an seventy-two miles of streets within the city limits, only eighty-tw miles were paved. Under the manager’s supervision the new directc of public works began an intensive program of improvement, in whic cobblestones and mud gave way to concrete, business streets wer widened, new approaches to the city opened. So vigorously was th work pushed that in the years from 1918 to 1928 the mileage of pave> streets was doubled. 7 Even more pressing was the question of water. For many years it hai been evident that the old works, built in 1872-1873, were inadequatt and the Council had frequently considered how best to secure a large supply. Commercial organizations and public-spirited citizens ha< urged action; committee after committee had made investigations. Ii 1917 the city went so far as to purchase Burnt Mills Lake and LaL Phillips, in Nansemond County, together capable of supplying thirt million gallons a day, 8 but there the matter rested. The old govern ment, while waiting for the commission-manager charter to go inn operation, would not proceed; the new manager, after taking office had to get acquainted with the machinery of government before com mitting himself to a project involving the expenditure of millions. At this juncture, just as in 1869, a severe drought brought matter to a crisis. In the summer and fall of 1919 one rainless month followec another until the level of the lakes east of the city fell lower and lower drinking water was at a premium, and personal cleanliness becaim well-nigh impossible. In January, 1920, the water department was mak ing arrangements to secure drinking water from Portsmouth, for dis tribution in tank-cars, sprinklers and wagons, when heavy rain: brought the famine to an end. This lesson had its effect, and, witf the approval by the voters for a six-million-dollar bond issue, wort began. It was a task of great difficulty. A huge dam and basin, with ar impressive spillway, was built at Lake Prince. 9 This structure is thirt) feet high, 2,150 long, and contains 2,977 cubic yards of reinforced con crete. The reservoir, formed by the dam, has a watershed of 30.2 square miles, and a storage capacity of nearly four billion gallons. More diffi 7 Virginian-Pilot, Jan. 15, 1928, Sec. 4, p. 1; City Council, City of Norfolk, pp 45-46. 8 Virginian-Pilot Sept. 26, 1917. 9 Formerly Burnt Mills Lake. Peaceful Expansion 321 cult even than the building of the dam was the piping of the water many miles across rivers and swamps to Norfolk. In crossing the Nansemond, trestle work carries the pipes over the soft mud Hats to the channel, where they are submerged, so as not to interfere with river traffic. When the workers came to the broad Elizabeth, they sank the mains so deep that dredges would have to reach down fifty-eight feet at mean low water to scrape their tops. With the erection of two pumping stations, the new system was complete, and water began to course through the great pipes to the city. The water problem seemed to be permanently solved. 10 The return of peace found Norfolk solicitous lest a period of defla¬ tion follow the intoxicating years of war prosperity. So early as Novem¬ ber 4, 1918, Mr. Barton Myers sounded the warning, pointing out, among other things, that Norfolk had not one dock or wharf prop¬ erly equipped for foreign commerce. 11 True, the great piers at the Army Base had no superior, but they would profit the city little should they remain in the hands of the government, or even fall under the control of one of the great railways. So, immediately after the Armi¬ stice, a committee, headed by Mayor Albert L. Roper, requested the War Department to sell or lease the terminal to Norfolk. Mr. Roper made frequent trips to Washington to interview the Secretary of War, the Quartermaster General, Senator Claude A. Swanson, and others, pointing out that the city was entitled to the first consideration be¬ cause it was Norfolk which had turned the property over to the gov¬ ernment when needed for war purposes. Eventually he gained his end, the government consenting to lease to the city one of the great piers, together with some of the adjacent transit sheds. This venture proved an immediate success. Not only did it attract commerce, but it added to the municipal revenue, yielding a net profit of $62,296 in 1921, and $59,077 in ig22. 12 A port commission, appointed to establish co¬ operation between municipal and private interests, to develop a spirit of community interest among the railways, and to stimulate water¬ borne commerce, contributed greatly to the fruits of the undertaking. It soon became evident, however, that if Norfolk was to compete permanently with New York and other great Northern ports, she must have some principal article of export other than coal, tobacco, and cotton. Ships carrying light freight such as tobacco and cotton have to 10 City Council, City of Norfolk, pp. 23-31. 11 Virginian-Pilot, Nov. 5, 1918. 12 City Council, City of Norfolk, pp. 17, 18. 322 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port take on in addition grain, ore, steel, or some similarly heavy com¬ modity, to act as a stabilizer. At the piers of Philadelphia, Boston, and New York, not until this “ballast freight’’ is stored away are othei lighter goods added. It is true that coal is a heavy commodity, and that Norfolk shipped it out by the millions of tons, but it is not usually desirable to mix coal with other freight. To the municipal government grain seemed to offer the best solution, and, since for grain loading elevators are necessary, the city had no option save to erect one at its own expense. So, having enlisted the co-operation of several great Chicago grain concerns and having received an assurance from the railroads that there would be no discrimination in rates, they laid the matter before the voters. On February 7, 1922, the people endorsed a bond issue of five million dollars for the elevator and terminal. A site between the Army Base and the Naval Base was chosen, and the work of construction pushed to completion. The elevator was one of the best and most modern in the United States. It has a capacity of seven hundred and fifty thousand bushels, can deliver grain at the rate of one hundred and twenty-five thousand bushels an hour, and is practically fireproof. “Two wings, or galleries, extend from the main unit, permitting two ships to be loaded at once. The grain is carried on broad belts to the spouts, automatically controlled and electrically operated, so that by the pressing of a button or the flashing of a light, the amount of grain running through each spout can be regulated.” 13 The same clear vision of the needs of the future was manifested in the other units of the terminal. A pier was constructed, 1,250 feet long and 494 feet wide, equipped with tractors, trailers, electric and gravity conveyors, lifting devices, cranes, winches, and portable scales. On each side of the pier were built concrete warehouses 100 feet wide and 1,175 feet long, while plans were made for a future giant storage warehouse. 14 The Army Base terminal and the new city pier were leased in 1925 by the Norfolk Tidewater Terminals, Inc., a link in one of the largest terminal companies in the world. This concern operated them with notable success. In 1926 the number of steamers handled at the piers was 507; in 1927 no less than 632. The cargo tonnage in 1927 was 543,579, of which nearly half was for exportation. 15 The part played by the municipal terminals in stimulating commerce more than com¬ pensated the city for a small deficit which their operation entailed. 13 Ibid.., p. 2i. « Ibid. 15 Virginian-Pilot, Jan. 3, 1928. Peaceful Expansion 323 Nor did the new government stop here. When the housewives of Norfolk demanded a modern market, the city manager saw that they jot it. A building of steel and stone, a masterpiece of its kind, was erected on the block bounded by Monticello Avenue, Brewer, Market, md Tazewell streets, at a cost of half a million dollars. “The walls are ike battlements pierced with windows, and the wings, being a story lower than the main building, permit the entire interior to be flooded with light. Sanitation and cleanliness manifestly are watchwords. The italls border long, wide walks, that extend the entire length of the narket, like avenues, with other walks like cross streets.” “Here the iarmers bring their carts loaded with truck and dairy products,” and rere are displayed all kinds of pies, jellies, cakes, butter, cheese, and aickles. It was a far cry from the little wooden market house erected it the head of Commercial Place nearly two centuries earlier, to this mposing modern structure. 16 On January 1, 1923, Norfolk acquired about twenty-seven square niles of territory and thirty thousand additional population, by ex- :ending the city bounds across the Lafayette River to include the \rmy Base, the municipal terminal, the Naval Base, Ocean View, and he suburbs east of the old city and across the Eastern Branch opposite Dhio Creek. In adding this area, the city pledged itself to spend upon t in improvements a sum equal to 12 per cent of the assessed property /alues; so that sewerage, street paving and lighting, police protection, tnd schools followed rapidly. The new city manager did not rest content even with this long list rf achievements. With the active support of the Council and the vari¬ ous directors, he broadened and advanced public education, added rew libraries, instituted a juvenile and a domestic relations court, ex- :ended the parks and playgrounds, introduced a system of food inspec- zion, increased the efficiency of the fire department, built a new armory, md established boulevards to connect with the highways leading into he city. 17 In short, he transformed Norfolk into a modern, “up-to-date” zommunity. But the period of postwar deflation, the reduction of the \rmy and Navy activities, and the slowing up of shipments for re- zontruction in Europe combined to produce a reaction in public lentiment against further large expenditures. On September 1, 1923, Mr. Ashburner left to become the manager of Stockton, California, and 3 olonel W. B. Causey took his place. Causey devoted himself chiefly 0 an attempt to secure favorable freight service to the municipal 16 City Council, City of Norfolk, pp. 65-67. 17 Ibid. S 2 4 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port docks and grain elevator, and failing in this, after two years of service resigned. He was succeeded by Major I. Walke Truxtun. The new manager was described by Professor Leonard D. White, it The City Manager, as belonging to an old Southern family, for genera tions prominent in Norfolk affairs. “He possesses a striking personality the outstanding feature of which is a high-strung tenacity and nerv ous power, coupled with a high ideal of public service. He is tht personification of nervous force. He speaks rapidly and forcefully, on< fist ready at any instant to pound the desk. . . . He is an untiring worker; is sometimes at his desk as early as five o’clock in the morning He declares that he will support the ideals of council-manager govern ment even though it costs him all of his friends.” 18 When Major Truxtun took office there existed a floating operating deficit of over two hundred and fifty thousand dollars a year. B\ preparing a sound budget, lengthening office hours, combining tht duties of some offices and doing away with others, in two years h( converted this deficit into a surplus. Norfolk devoted about 61 pei cent of her income to city operation, and 39 per cent to interest anc sinking fund on the bonded debt. Of the operating expenses, educa tion constituted a third, public safety nearly another third, and streets water, lights, sewerage, public welfare, etc., the remainder. 19 Major Truxtun found conditions in the police force unsatisfactory and at once set himself to the task of reform. Bringing many policemen to trial, he secured the conviction and discharge of those who were found guilty of collusion with bootleggers. This had the desired effect. “The police force is universally admitted to be on a higher plane ol efficiency and integrity than ever before. Truxtun has started a school to instruct the patrolmen in handling evidence and giving testimony. . . . He addresses the police once a year, and has told them frankly he would prefer 200 men in whom there was public confidence to 600 men who lacked public confidence.” 20 The efficiency of the police was evidenced, not only in the appre¬ hension of criminals, but in crime prevention. Despite the constant presence of sailors on shore leave and despite the large Negro popula¬ tion, the number of offenses was remarkably small, the homicide rate being far below that of most Southern cities. In 1927, when there were 69.3 homicides for each hundred thousand of population in Memphis, 18 White, The City Manager, p. too. 19 J. R. Vandenberry, Council-Manager Facts. 20 White, The City Manager, pp. too, 101. Peaceful Expansion 325 33 in Birmingham, and 23 in Houston, in Norfolk there were only 7.3. \lthough the rate jumped to 11.9 in 1928, it was still small compared o 54.9 for Birmingham, 17.6 for Cincinnati, 15.8 for Chicago, and 16.5 for Detroit. Criminals seemed to prefer to pass Norfolk by. 21 The Fire Department was equally efficient. With forty-five units of nodern motor-driven apparatus, with an experienced chief, and a well- :rained personnel, the department accomplished wonders in subduing Norfolk’s age-old enemy, fire. Prior to 1922 the average fire loss per capita was between seven and eight dollars; in 1926 it was $1.79, and n 1927 slightly less than two dollars. In 1921 there were 450 demerits olaced against the city by the fire insurance underwriters; in 1927 he number was only fifty-one. The fireboat Vulcan saved waterfront property owners $125,000 in insurance a year, and diminished greatly the risk of a widespread conflagration. 22 The older citizens of Norfolk, when they harked back to the days of the General B. F. Butler, or even :o those of Chief Kevill and his three steam engines, might well marvel it the contrast. Public education kept step with other improvements. An extensive building program was carried out, many trained teachers added to the itaff, new courses of study introduced, open-air instruction instituted, 1 division of research and experimentation organized, attention paid to character education, advances made in music, art, physical training, and in the industrial arts. Especially noteworthy was the establishment of the junior high school system, and the resulting revision of courses to permit six years in the elementary schools, three in the junior high schools, and three in the senior high schools. The school system was recognized as one of the most efficient in the country. 23 Equally important work was done in health and sanitation. A con¬ tagious disease hospital was established, war was declared on mosqui¬ toes and flies, schoolchildren were given medical examinations at stated intervals, dental clinics were established. A bacteriological lab¬ oratory was erected where milk and meat were daily tested. “No restaurant may serve milk dipped from a can. Every glass comes from a sealed bottle. . . . All fresh meats sold are inspected and stamped. (Food manufacturing plants and factories are regularly inspected. . . . Bakeries, ice-cream plants, restaurants” were supervised. As a result 21 The Spectator, April 1, 1928; March, 1929. 22 Virginian-Pilot, Jan. 15, 1928, Sec. IV, p. 1. 23 The total enrollment in 1927 was 21,800. In 1917-1918 the entire budget for education was $392,936; in 1928 it was $1,470,000 ( Virginian-Pilot, Jan. 15, 1928, Sec. I, p. 24) . 326 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port Norfolk had the lowest mortality rate from typhoid of all South At lantic cities, the number of deaths in 1928 for each hundred thousanc of population being 1.6, as compared with 2.1 for Jacksonville, 2.7 foi Washington, 3.1 for Richmond, 3.8 for Baltimore, 4.7 for Wilmington N. C., and 7.4 for Atlanta. The record for diphtheria was equally good, the mortality in 1928 for each hundred thousand people being 3.3, as compared with 3.5 for Jacksonville, 6.2 for Wilmington, 7.6 foi Baltimore, and 8.1 for Washington. Thus the city, so long considered an unhealthful spot, might now point with pride to its splendid health work and to its low mortality rate. The people of Norfolk seemed well satisfied with the progress made in the first twelve years of the commission-manager form of govern ment. The occasional complaints of the high cost of government were met by a reference to statistics, which showed that the burden pei capita was one of the lowest in the country for cities of from one hundred to three hundred thousand people. It was generally realized, also, that the people received benefits corresponding to every dollar ol taxes. “Norfolk has tried the experiment for ten years,” said the Virginian-Pilot, on January 15, 1928, “and there is little possibility that Norfolk will desire a change. Political considerations which have ham¬ pered municipal and other governments since time immemorial, have been eliminated to a high degree. Service to the public is no longer made secondary to service to some political organization.” At the conclusion of the First World War many predicted that Nor¬ folk would lose the gains made in foreign trade since 1914. “The small exports and insignificant imports of Hampton Roads prior to the war represented our normal trade,” it was said, “and we may expect to see the streams shrink once more to the old volume.” But the volume, instead of shrinking, continued to expand. In 1918 the exports ol Hampton Roads were 1134,826,224, in 1919 about $103,000,000, in 1920 they rose to $226,000,000, and in 1921 to $325,000,000. The great ocean liners were kept busy taking on coal at the piers of the Chesa¬ peake and Ohio, the Norfolk and Western, and the Virginian, for ship¬ ment to all parts of the world. In 1921 no less than 4,027,996 long tons of cargo were sent out from the Elizabeth alone—to Italy, Great Britain, Brazil, Argentina, Panama, the Canary Islands, France, Chile, even to far-off New Zealand and Australia. That year Great Britain took from Norfolk 507,862 tons of coal and coke, 61,655 tons of to¬ bacco, 20,626 tons of cotton, and 11,983 tons of logs and lumber. 24 24 War Department, Port Series, No. 15, pp. 268, 269. Peaceful Expansion 327 Although with the satisfying of Europe’s reconstruction needs and the economic depression of 1922, the volume of exports from Hampton Roads fell sharply, it was still ten times as large as in 1914. Obviously it was going to hold its newly acquired rank as one of the most impor¬ tant ports of the country. Exports continued in large volume, amount¬ ing in 1924 to $198,000,000, in 1925 to $169,000,000, in 1926 to $200,- 000,000, and in 1928 to $182,000,000. Of great importance was the rapid increase of the exports of grain, so much needed for balanced cargoes. At the same time the shipments of tobacco also mounted until Hampton Roads ranked as the greatest tobacco port of the world. In 1918 the exports of leaf from Norfolk and Newport News was but 10,500,000 pounds; in 1920 they were 105,000,000 pounds; in 1925 no less than 236,000,000 pounds. At the same time cotton held its own, the total number of bales exported being 174,320 in 1922-23; 311,085 in 1925-26, and 384,064 in 1927. Germany was the largest buyer of Norfolk cotton, taking in 1927 nearly 189,000 bales, as compared with 103,000 for Great Britain, 16,500 for Italy, and 12,500 for Japan. Other exports included lumber, 1 flour, starch, glucose, brass, livestock, and cotton cloth, with coal re¬ taining its leading position. 25 Of vital importance to Norfolk was the steady increase in imports. For a century the port had been hampered by the striking lack of balance between exports and imports, and the loss entailed by the entry of vessels in ballast. Now the State Port Authority was trying to stabilize the commerce by attracting foreign goods, especially from Latin Amer¬ ica. It was encouraging to note that in 1928 imports at Hampton Roads were $32,817,774, as compared with $16,500,000 in 1925, and $8,500,000 in 1920. A decade earlier imports had constituted less than 4 per cent of the foreign trade of the port; in 1928 they constituted 15 per cent. Norfolk was not the only great port in the United States that faced the problem of an ill-balanced trade, for at Galveston ex¬ ports exceeded imports twenty-three times over, while at Boston im¬ ports were six times larger than exports, and at Philadelphia nearly three times larger. With the rapid industrial development of the South, and the consequent increased demand for foreign raw mate¬ rials, it seemed probable that commerce at Hampton Roads would more nearly strike a balance. 25 Virginian-Pilot, Jan. 3, 1928; Hampton Roads Year Book, pp. 24, 27, 35. CHAPTER SIXTEEN Depression and Recovery Wi* the opening of Norfolk’s two hundred and forty-seventh year, in 1929, its people looked forward to the future with confidence. The stores on Granby Street were crowded with purchasers; long trains of freight cars rolled in from the Virginia and West Virginia mountains to dump their coal on the ships waiting at the piers; at the Navy Yard could be heard the noise of riveting as old vessels were modernized and new submarines and cruisers laid down; out at the Naval Base the construction of new buildings gave work to hundreds; the hotels at Virginia Beach and Ocean View looked forward to an¬ other year of thriving business; new industries continued to come to the city. So there was surprise and dismay when word came in October that the stock market had suffered drastic losses. People could hardly credit their eyes as the financial columns of the newspapers showed that in a few weeks of frantic selling the stocks listed on the New York Stock Exchange had fallen from eighty-seven billion to fifty-five billion dol¬ lars. The Great Depression had begun, a depression unparalleled in American history. Factories were forced to curtail production, or, in many cases, to close their doors; wages were cut; many thousands ol laborers were thrown out of work; prices dropped sharply; foreign trade declined; banks went under; construction almost ceased; finan¬ cial ruin came to thousands; government action and charity alone saved many from hunger. Many different causes have been assigned for the depression. It was the too rapid expansion of industry, the mechanizing of the farm, the 3 2 9 Depression and Recovery loss of the foreign market which resulted from the high tariff, the expansion of credit and speculation in the stock markets which brought disaster. Perhaps it can be summed up by saying that the nation had not adjusted itself to the industrial and agricultural revolution which had been in progress for some years. The manufacturer had failed to pass on to the consumer the benefits of mass production in lower prices; the farmer was helpless in the face of huge surpluses. In the three and a half years which followed the crash of October, ig2g, when times grew worse and worse, Norfolk fared far better than most American cities. In January, ig3i, the Virginian-Pilot could re¬ port that bread-lines, “the harbingers of business depression,” had not made their appearance in the city. “Leaders in community life—in business, in the professions, in commerce, and in the trades—looking upon the record that 1930 has wrought, almost without exception are inclined to the view that Norfolk has much to be thankful for.” 1 When month after month, year after year, production reached even lower levels, when earnings continued to decline, when more thou¬ sands were thrown out of work, Norfolk continued to be optimistic. “Norfolk looks on the New Year today w r ith a feeling that the skies are brighter,” said the Virginian-Pilot in January, 1933. “Norfolk’s fi¬ nancial institutions have all remained intact under times which rocked the world.” 2 Though local business, like business elsewhere, had suffered from the depression, there had been few failures. Em¬ ployment held up remarkably well. The city was spared the distressing sight of soup kitchens and sidewalk sale of apples. Norfolk’s marriage to the Navy in large part accounts for the com¬ parative lightness of the impact of the depression on her life. Naval operations brought her an annual income of some $20,000,000. Blue¬ jackets swarmed in the stores and restaurants and theaters; the Navy Yard employed an average of four thousand men, the Naval Base two thousand. And while other industries were forced to curtail their ac¬ tivities, those of the Navy were increased. Many a skilled worker pocketed his wages with thankfulness, after a week’s work on the great battleship Idaho or the Mississippi, which were being modernized at a ; :ost of $12,000,000 each. 3 At the Naval Base the erection of new bar¬ racks, a concrete pier, and a half-million dollar general air station orovided jobs for hundreds. , 1 Virginian-Pilot, Jan. 1, 1931. 2 Ibid. 2 Ibid. 330 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port But it was the sight of merchant vessels coming and going, or un¬ loading at the piers on the Elizabeth River, which most of all heart¬ ened the people of Norfolk. Here was a freighter heading for London, here another just in from Bremen, here vessels from Cuba, loaded with sugar, here freighters from Germany, from France, from Italy, from Turkey, from New York, from New England. “It should be . . . cause for thankfulness to know that at a time when world commerce is reduced, our own port shows healthy growth in certain lines,” said the Virginian-Pilot, in January, 1931. There was some falling off in the exports of coal. Cuba, Italy, and France had passed tariff laws discriminating against American coal and favoring English coal. Yet coal dumpings at Hampton Roads in 1932 came to 14,440,000 tons. The decline in coal exports was offset by the sudden rise in sugai imports. In 1931 the presence of sugar-laden ships in Hamptor Roads was a common sight. At one time there were 200,000 tons of Cuban sugar in the warehouses at the Army Base and elsewhere: Hampton Roads continued to be the premier port for the exportatior of tobacco, chiefly Virginia and North Carolina bright flue-cured to bacco, together with millions of dollars worth of cigarettes. It exported also, cotton, cotton cloth, lumber, farm machinery, and grain. Import; of manganese ore from Africa, fertilizers, coffee, and wood pulp showed gains. “Norfolk is not stopping ... to count her blessings nor pondei such misfortunes as have befallen her,” said the Virginian-Pilot in the Annual Review of January, 1931. “She is engaged in making the most of her opportunities. Her ship lines she prizes. They use the sea as s long green path to the ports of the world that are anxious for hei goods. . . . Commerce through this port is a surer thing than it ha: ever been before.” It was remarkable that during the dark days of 1931 the city could boast that it had made “mighty strides” in the field of transportation The Baltimore Mail Steamship Line, with five new ships fitted for botf passenger and freight service, was keeping up weekly sailings direct tc Le Havre and Hamburg. As these vessels headed out to sea, witl “full staterooms,” people asked each other if the day would not com< when Norfolk would rival New York as the gateway of the Unitec States. But as the months passed and the predicted recovery failed to mak( 4 Ibid., Jan. 2, 1932. Depression and Recovery 331 its appearance, Norfolk began to suffer. It was hopeful thinking for the press to say, “Old Devil Depression is on the run”; the depression became steadily worse. Building fell off, there were some business fail¬ ures, the number of the unemployed grew, the city fathers found it necessary to practice strict economy. Norfolk is the market for the farm products, not only of south¬ eastern Virginia, but of the Eastern Shore, and of northeastern North Carolina. A very rich trucking country it is. On the shelves of the grocery stores one finds the soybeans, the spinach, the cabbage, the tomatoes, the onions of Princess Anne, Norfolk, and Nansemond counties; the vegetables and fruits of Northampton and Accomack, and the grain of Gates, Camden, Currituck and other North Carolina counties. But farmers now fell upon hard times. In 1932 bad weather olayed havoc with their yields. And when they appeared at the Nor¬ folk markets with what cold, or drought, or insect pests had left them, they found prices disastrously low. Princess Anne planters made a little noney on sweet potatoes, but on the whole the farmers lost money. Conditions in 1933 were worse. All of this hurt the Norfolk merchants, for it meant fewer purchases of seed, farm machinery, fertilizers, and ither goods. Vacant stores on Granby Street gave mute testimony to the impact >f the depression on the city. Purchasers became fewer and fewer, and hose who came to buy sought cheapness rather than quality. City inances grew steadily worse, with tax payments falling off and the loating debt mounting. Unemployment increased at an alarming rate. The city government was forced to make drastic cuts in expenses md curtail expenditures for public works. “A city’s activities are imited by the ability of the citizens to pay,” wrote City Manager Trux- on in January, 1932. “In preparing the budget for 1932 every effort las been made to relieve the stress.” A maximum was set for the pay )f city employees, the school budget was cut by $175,000, increases of alaries were few and far between. As the number of the unemployed increased, the problem of relief )ecame acute. Chairman C. Moran Barry, of the Travelers Aid Society >f Norfolk, reported that in 1930 it had assisted 20,133 persons. The iroblems that came before the society were varied and often tragic— unaway children with frantic parents searching for them, foreigners mable to speak English and without employment, old people ill and without funds. All possible aid was given in each case. But before the end of 1931 it became evident that the resources of 332 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port the Travelers Aid Society were not sufficient to meet the rapidly in creasing demands of the unemployed. So an Emergency Relief Com mittee was formed, with Robert M. Hughes, Jr., as its chairman. When it was suggested that funds might be raised by means of Sunday theatei performances, the Tidewater Ministerial Union protested. The cit) manager, harassed by the numberless problems of the depression, i< said to have retorted that if the union did not like this method ol giving hungry men two days’ work a week with which to buy food and fuel for their families, they might assume responsibility for an alterna tive plan of relief. 5 But it soon became obvious that such makeshift methods of meeting the crisis would be inadequate. So the people of the city in 1932 pui forth an extraordinary effort. The Community Fund, as well as inde pendent agencies, found that the demands upon their funds had in creased so greatly that it became necessary to make sharp cuts in alio cations. When the Community Fund Campaign for 1933 was started it was hoped that $250,000 would be raised. Great was the disappoint ment when the campaign, though well-organized and vigorously prose cuted, fell short of its quota by one-third. But this merely stimulated the people to greater efforts. A commis sary at 1008 Granby Street, operated by the Norfolk Relief Association acted as the clearing house for emergency relief. To it was handec over the emergency funds of the Community Campaign, as well a vast quantities of clothing and other supplies, along with money do nated in response to appeals over the radio and in the newspapers. A Christmas Clearing House cared for the immediate needs of set eral thousand families. The City Welfare Center opened its doors tt the homeless with food and beds. The United Charities, the Salvatioi Army, Union Missions, though their facilities were overtaxed, gav relief to many families. With the coming of cold weather in 1932 i could be said that “no one in Norfolk was without food and a plac to sleep.” It was an inspiring exhibition of community spirit, this wholf hearted response to the needs of those in distress. “Thousands c people have contributed their time, means or energy, and have give money, supplies, work,” it was said. “Scarcely is there a citizen whos financial situation will permit it, who is not today engaged in som work of charity.” Many a leading citizen labored day and night in th cause with no thought of personal return. “Norfolk has developed int a city of giving” was their boast. 5 Ibid., Sept. 20, 1931. Depression and Recovery 333 In the meantime President Hoover had not been idle. Other presi¬ dents had taken it for granted that in hard times it was the function of business to fight its way back to recovery. Hoover accepted it as a governmental responsibility. He feared that without the active aid of the government, the capitalistic system might collapse. It was Hoover who first urged Congress to appropriate huge sums for public build¬ ings, public roads, and for improvement of harbors and rivers. Though he favored the administration of relief through the states, municipali¬ ties, and voluntary agencies, he set up a national Emergency Relief Organization. By the spring of 1932 this body was distributing to local groups surplus wheat and cotton, and making large loans to the states. In January, 1932, the Reconstruction Finance Corporation was created with a capital of half a billion dollars to make loans to banks, rail¬ roads, and life insurance companies. Hoover’s Federal Farm Board tried desperately to bring relief to the millions of hard-pressed farmers. But the people were not satisfied. What they wanted was an end bf the depression, and despite Hoover’s efforts the depression grew iteadily worse. Moreover, since hard times had come during a Republi- ;an administration, they held the Republicans responsible for it. So here was no surprise that in the presidential election of 1932, Frank- in D. Roosevelt, the Democratic candidate, was elected by an over- vhelming majority. The new President was confronted with the immediate possibility if a collapse in the nation’s banking system. Drained of their deposits )y frightened customers, with millions of dollars of assets frozen, most )f them had been closed by state executive order for a long bank holi- lay. The day after his inauguration Mr. Roosevelt closed those which emained open, and a few days later pushed through Congress an emergency Banking Act, which provided for the reopening of all ianks found to be sound. By March 13 banks began to open their !oors, former depositors were reassured, millions of dollars began to ow back, and business was resumed. The Norfolk banks weathered the financial storm in a sound condi- ion. They had recognized the seriousness of the crisis, and had taken he necessary steps to meet it. “It has been a source of the greatest atisfaction to the present management,” it was stated by the National ■ank of Commerce in 1937, “that it approached, experienced, and merged from the banking holiday without for a single moment need- lg or desiring the rediscount privileges of the Federal Reserve system, r the subsequent capitalization through the Reconstruction Finance Corporation. These facilities were freely offered, but your management 334 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port was constantly mindful of its desire to preserve the position and prior¬ ity of its stockholders.” 6 The Seaboard Citizens National Bank reported that its “first dividend was paid January 6, 1868, and dividends have been paid regularly each year since organization.” 7 The banking crisis having passed, the administration set itself the triple task of relief, recovery, and reforms. The most urgent of these was relief. So one of its first acts was to create a new Federal Emergency Relief Administration to make loans and grants to those states whose financial resources were unequal to their relief needs. Yet, despite the millions poured into the FERA by Congress, many months passed be¬ fore the army of the needy began to dwindle. Labor-saving machinery continued to throw men out of jobs; savings of mnemployed men dwindled and disappeared, and private charities broke down as their burdens became too heavy. So an increasing burden rested on the shoulders of the municipalities. In Norfolk the Community Fund continued its activities. As the months went by and the need for relief mounted, it was decided to conduct another campaign to raise funds to carry it through the first six months of 1934. But, though this campaign was waged with vigor, it fell short of the goal, which had been set at $125,000. It was the general expectation that better times would reduce the number of the needy, and few anticipated that as the year closed, there would be no less than 14,673 persons, or 11.3 per cent of the city’s population, on the relief rolls. 8 New Federal relief policies in 1935 threw an increased burden on the city. When the national government discontinued the Federal Transient Bureau, the care of numberless penniless wanderers was placed on local agencies, the states, and the municipalities. “Those who apply for relief, those who two years ago, or even six months ago, would have been helped with Federal funds without question, are now being refused,” stated the Annual Report for 1935. So in Nor¬ folk it became necessary for the Travelers Aid Society, two Union Mis¬ sions, and the Salvation Army to double their activities. When this proved insufficient, the responsibility for relief fell more and more on the city. Ten years after the panic of 1929, the problem of relief still re¬ mained. “Each year a greater burden has been placed upon the cit) until now approximately $250,000 is expended for relief purposes,” it 6 Ibid., Jan. 1, 1937. 7 Ibid. 8 Ibid., Nov. 28, 1934. Depression and Recovery 335 was stated in 1939. In addition to general relief, there was special aid to the blind, to dependent children, and to the aged. As before, vari¬ ous organizations—the King’s Daughters, Florence Crittenton Home, Union Mission, and others gave welcome assistance. Scores of women were kept busy on a Sewing Room Project, making sheets, mattress covers, garments, towels, curtains, etc., while others gave their time to the Handicraft Project which turned out comforters, bath mats, rugs, brooms, sweaters, and toys. 9 President Roosevelt’s thinking was influenced by those who blamed the depression upon the laissez-faire policy of former administrations. In the complex civilization of today what is needed is a planned economy. The government must take the wheel of the ship of state, and steer it clear of the rocks of overproduction, unemployment, busi¬ ness failures, declining prices. So one of his first acts had been to set up the National Recovery Administration, in a nationwide effort to increase the purchasing power of the people by raising wages and cut¬ ting down unemployment. Brigadier General Hugh S. Johnson, as chief administrator of the NRA, urged manufacturers, merchants, the railroads, and utility cor¬ porations to devise “codes of fair competition,” raising wages and shortening hours of work. It was a patriotic duty for all to sign, he said, and to those who did he gave a handsome emblem, the Blue lEagle. The store which could not display this emblem was to be shunned by all good people; the products of the manufacturer who had no Blue Eagle were to be boycotted. Norfolk was selected for the NRA headquarters for Virginia, North Carolina, Maryland, and the District of Columbia, with J. J. Skorup, Jr., the administrator. Immediately Norfolk employers began to fall in line. The shipping companies adopted a code, the upholsterers and decorators worked out a code, the shoe dealers adopted a code, the Retail Dealers Association sent a telegram to President Roosevelt promising their full co-operation. Mr. Skorup was highly gratified. By July 30 about seventy-five Norfolk employers had sent in their agree¬ ments. 10 The Blue Eagles began appearing on store windows two days later. Over three hundred employers had signed by that date. On August 3 the number had risen to 586, on August 8 to 1,144. A few days later Mr. Skorup announced that in all Virginia 9,810 signatures had been received to codes affecting 59,066 employees. Norfolk’s good showing was largely due to a committee headed by 9 Civic Affairs, 1939, p. 30. 10 Virginian-Pilot, July 30, 1933. Norfolk: Historic Southern Port 336 A. B. Schwarzkopf, president of the Association of Commerce. Th( committee was directed by General Johnson to organize a campaigr of education in speeding “the return of prosperity through the expan sion of consumer purchasing power.” “It is an inspiring thing to be t part of a great national movement to restore economic security to oui people,” he telegraphed Mr. Schwarzkopf, “and I appeal to you tc marshal all the forces of your community in one united movement tc get rid of unemployment.” 11 Mr. Schwarzkopf entered upon the tasl with enthusiasm. He appointed a committee of one hundred leading citizens, who in turn organized a recovery “army.” It was to consist 0; three hundred men and women pledged to battle for prosperity Winder R. Harris, managing editor of the Virginian-Pilot, was electee general; Mrs. E. B. Hodges, president of the Woman’s Club, lieutenant general; Charles L. Kaufman, R. J. Throckmorton, and Leon T. Sea well, colonels. These officers immediately organized their department, and appointed their adjutants. Henry Lewis was made head of the newspaper bureau, Otto Wells head of the bureau of billboards anc placards, Saxon W. Holt, Jr., head of the radio bureau. J. Eugeni Diggs, Negro lawyer, was made major to organize the Negro work. 1 “The Blue Eagle began to scream an insistent message of recover yesterday as the Norfolk NRA campaign forces took to the field,” saic the Virginian-Pilot of August 15. Mason Manghum, of Richmond head of the Blue Eagle forces in Virginia, at a luncheon gathering a the Fairfax Hotel explained to officers of the “army” the best meth ods of campaigning, followed by questions and answers. In the evening Mr. Skorup spoke before the members of the American Legion, in th« City Council Chamber, and his assistant, Horace K. Dickson, addressee Post 36. Thus started a week’s intensive campaign, which was con tinued with daily radio talks, newspaper articles, and addresses befon civic and business organizations. 13 But even before the “army” campaign got under way it was whis pered around the city that certain holders of the Blue Eagle were no playing fair. One employer who signed a code told his employees tha their raise in pay was “for the record only,” and that anyone wh< “squealed” would be fired. Others raised wages and then requirec the employee to hand back the difference in fanciful outlays on hi account, such as board for waitresses. To handle complaints of viola 11 Ibid., July 22, 1933. 12 Ibid., Aug. 8, 1933. 13 Ibid., Aug. 14, 15, 1933. 337 Depression and Recovery dons of the codes, a bureau of eight or ten young lawyers was set up, headed by J. J. Beacher. 14 President Roosevelt was confident that pub¬ lic opinion would condemn backsliders and force them into line. In.some cases the codes, so far from reducing unemployment, actu¬ ally increased it. For unskilled workers, especially for Negroes, the Blue Eagle, instead of being a bird of happiness, turned out to be a bird of prey. Some of the Norfolk restaurants which had long em¬ ployed Negroes as porters, elevator men, dishwashers, cleaners, etc., at well below the minimum set by the codes, began to dismiss them and hire white workers in their places. “It would be a grim and tragic com- nentary on the national recovery effort if a business and industrial regimentation directed to lifting the people out of depression, should operate to plunge the most depressed of them in a worse depression still,” pointed out the Virginian-Pilot . 15 Despite discouragements of this kind, at the end of the year 1933 he administration claimed that the great NRA experiment had been uccessful. It had brought about many business reforms, among them the ban on child labor and the sweatshop, and the acceptance of new ugh standards in advertising. It had restored millions of workers to gainful employment, had reduced working hours, had improved work- ng conditions. Yet the ultimate results were disappointing. The NRA, while in¬ creasing the purchasing power of millions of workers, forced higher prices and so reduced the purchasing power of other millions. It was ike trying to lift oneself by one’s bootstraps. Some of the leading nanufacturers refused to subscribe to a code. A series of disputes fol- owed between employers and the labor unions, marked by strikes which kept thousands of men out of work for weeks. Late in Septem- >er, 1934, General Johnson resigned, and in the following May a de¬ cision by the Supreme Court cut the ground from under the NRA and orced its rapid dismantlement. The Civil Works Administration, set up in November, 1933, was a s ar sounder venture than the NRA, and far sounder than the dole. That most men wanted was work, not charity. It restored the self- jespect of millions of men who were employed at various tasks, even hough many of these tasks were trifling in character, “boondoggling,” s they were called in derision. The CWA was dissolved in the spring ,£ * 934 - 14 Ibid., Aug. 5, 7, 18, 1933. 15 lbid., Aug. 10, 1933. 338 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port But the Civil Works program as administered in Norfolk was fai from trifling. Five hundred men were employed in an attempt t( eliminate mosquitoes by scientific drainage methods. Others undertool to repair the damage done by recent hurricanes and to build jettie: and bulkheads as a precaution against tropical storms in the future Playgrounds were started at the Larchmont school with football anc baseball fields, tennis, hockey, and soccer courts, and a running track A swimming pool was begun at Lafayette Park, a project was ap proved for beautifying cemeteries with walks and driveways and gen eral landscaping; another was for repairs on the Museum of Arts anc Sciences; still another involved the repairing and painting of schoo buildings; construction of a wooden bridge on the Ocean View Boule vard; a canning project at the City Home. 16 Paralleling the CWA was the Public Works Administration, estab lished in the summer of 1933 and headed by Secretary of the Interior Harold Ickes. Avoiding boondoggling, it devoted its funds to aidin; in the building of bridges, dams, sewage systems, hospitals, schools roads, colleges, libraries, courthouses, parks, and playgrounds. The ex penditures were enormous, by the end of 1939 totaling almost sir billion dollars. In Norfolk, when the CWA came to an end, many projects begui under it were continued under the WPA. But new projects weri added, some of them of great importance. At first the City Counci held back. The policy of spending and even more spending was ii direct conflict with the policy of strict economy which had beei adopted by the City Council of Norfolk. The Council wanted no Blui Eagle set up on the door of the City Hall. Mayor W. R. L. Taylo criticized his predecessors for extravagance. “In the past the idea 0 living within our income each year was not considered,” he said. “I was the depression that brought us face to face with the necessity o making our cash income and cash outgo meet.” He pointed out tha this was responsible for a deficit of half a million dollars in one yea alone. By strict economy the city had cut this deficit to $50,000 ii 1933, and he hoped to show “that our income and outgo are equal.’ The CWA and the PWA were not greeted with enthusiasm by th< mayor and some of his colleagues of the Council. “I know, and nr colleagues know, that there will be no extravagance at City Hall ii the future,” said Mr. Taylor in January, 1934. “Anybody who think 16 Ibid., Jan. 1, 30; July 19, 1934. Depression and Recovery 339 that because we are getting back to normalcy we are going to appropri¬ ate money for this and that thing, is going to be mistaken.” 17 This policy led to a bitter conflict in the Council and among the citizens at large. When it was proposed in the Council in November, 1934, to lower taxes, to increase the wages of city employees by 10 oer cent, and to add $191,000 to the appropriations for schools, it was rated down by three to two. 18 But it was becoming obvious that the most immediate need was a lew bridge over the Eastern Branch to replace the wooden structure it Campostella Road. As early as 1931 the city was considering means or financing a two-lane bridge by a system of tolls. There followed ong delays until in July, 1933, it was announced that $400,000 from he Federal funds allotted for roads in Virginia had been assigned to his project. Elated at this turn of events the City Council voted to add >125,000, so that work could be begun at once. “It turns out that the ong delay in solving the pressing Campostella Bridge problem is the hing that will make possible a wider and better bridge than the city ould have managed with its own funds,” said the editor of the 7 irginian-Pilot. As it was, the steel and concrete structure has four anes and a walk, and a modern draw span over the river channel. 19 Not less important than the Campostella Bridge was the construc- ion of a new bridge to replace the old one over the Lafayette River t Hampton Boulevard. The interests of the Federal government, as /ell as those of the city, were concerned. The bridge was an essential ink in the line of communications between the Naval Base and the darine Hospital and the Norfolk Navy Yard. City Manager Thomp- an made repeated visits to Washington to appeal to Secretary Ickes ar a grant from the PWA funds. After some delay $119,000 was llocated for the project, the remaining $400,000 being financed lo- ally. When a Citizens’ Public Works Committee thought advantage ■lould be taken of the opportunity to secure Federal funds for an¬ ther bridge over the Lafayette River, for dredging the Southern :ranch, and the construction of a sea wall at Ocean View, Mr. 'aylor rebuffed them. “I feel that none of these things are absolutely ssential, however desirable they may be,” he said. “Even though we 17 Ibid., Jan. 6, 1934. ls Ibid., Nov. 28, 1934. 19 Ibid.., July 7 and 8, 1933; Jan. 24, Nov. io, 18, 1934. 340 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port should get thirty per cent of the costs of these projects from the gov eminent, the remainder would be a heavy charge on the taxpayers.” 2 And the editor of the Virginian-Pilot agreed that there ought not t< be pressure brought on city officials to raid the treasury for publi improvements beyond absolute necessities. 21 But soon there was pres sure, pressure too great to be resisted; and it was not long before thi City Council was eagerly seeking Federal aid for a number of projects Norfolk always has been a city of bridges. Built on a peninsul; intersected with bays, rivers, and creeks, traffic has been facilitated ii some cases by fillings, in others by ferries, but often by bridges. Witl the coming of the age of automobiles, it became obvious that the ol< wooden structures, many of them in a dilapidated condition, wer out of date. Their replacement by steel and concrete structures begai in 1929 with the construction of the bridge over a branch of th Lafayette River at Colley Avenue. This was followed by the net Granby Street four-lane bridge over the Lafayette River. 22 Construe don of the bridge began early in 1935. The structure is 1,800 fee long, and is wide enough for four traffic lanes. There is no draw spai since the center is elevated enough to permit the passage of boats usin; the river. The pushing through of the project, though backed by Sena tor Byrd and Congressman Colgate Darden and approved by Presiden Roosevelt, was a personal triumph for City Manager Thompson. “ very well know how the city manager has spent time and effort in sea son and out of season in efforts to get this grant through,” said Mayo Taylor. 23 The Norfolk Division of the College of William and Mary mad good use of the PWA to secure a stadium with a seating capacity 0 25,000 and a classroom building. At Ocean View, Willoughby, am Brambleton, large sewer projects were started in 1935, largely f nanced by grants from the PWA. In 1936 we find Mr. Thompso: knocking at Secretary Ickes’ door to request aid for five importan projects: $25,000 toward a junior high school, $45,000 for the Oceai View School, $100,000 for the completion of the Museum of Arts am Sciences, $36,000 for the Berkley School, and $25,000 for the Twenty sixth Street Bridge. 24 All in all, the CWA and the PWA were of grea importance in lifting Norfolk out of the depression. They brough 20 Ibid., July 26, 1934. 21 Ibid., Jan. 7, 1934. 22 Ibid., Nov. 18, 1934. 23 Ibid., Nov. 10, 1934. 24 Ibid., Aug. 1, 1936. S4 1 Depression and Recovery nuch-needed improvements to the city, gave employment to hundreds )f men, and helped to restore confidence at a time of discouragement md even despair. Welcome also was the erection of the long-needed Federal Building, formerly all the government agencies were housed in the Custom douse at Main and Granby streets, with the post office in the basement tnd the court in the upper stories. When more space became impera- ive, a new building was erected at Plume and Atlantic streets. But >nly fifteen years had passed when in 1915 a committee of prominent itizens visited Washington to point out to the Treasury Department hat the business of the post office and the courts had outgrown this •uilding and to plead for a new one. This effort failed, but many ears later Congressman Menalous Langford succeeded in obtaining n appropriation of $2,000,000 for the new building. After much discussion a site was selected on the lot formerly occu- iied in part by the old St. Luke’s Church, bounded by Granby Street, Irambleton Avenue, Monticello Avenue, and Bute Street, and con¬ traction began. To many this seemed too far “uptown,” blocks away ; rom the old post office, the City Hall, and the principal office build- lgs. The structure, which rises four stories above the street, occupies n entire block and is one of the finest in the South. 25 Its construction as of vital importance to Norfolk in easing the problem of unem- loyment, and the scores of masons, carpenters, plumbers, and other orkmen, as they took home their weekly pay, were grateful to Uncle am for keeping them off the relief rolls. Meanwhile the government had consolidated the various relief gencies under a new agency called the Works Progress Administra- ion, with Harry Hopkins at its head. Although the PWA was con- nued temporarily, the WPA took over many of its activities, espe- .ally those which aided projects for improving streets, building ridges, extending sewer systems, erecting schools and hospitals, etc. .11 in all, the WPA gave work to eight million persons and spent even and a third billion dollars. Norfolk was alert to this opportunity and many were the projects hich the city manager and Council put through in the next few Jars with WPA and PWA assistance. One of the most important was le development of the Municipal Airport, at Little Creek, on what as formerly a part of Truxton Manor Golf Course, with a handsome .Iministration building, a hangar, and three runways. 23 Ibid., July 8, 1934. 342 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port A grant from the WPA in 1938 made it possible for the city t< proceed with the second unit of the Museum of Arts and Sciences with its fifteen additional galleries, a library, assembly hall, and hal of statuary. The Granby Street High School, which was begun ii September, 1938, and opened for classes a year later, cost $500,000, 0 which the PWA paid $225,000. This lovely building has a large audi torium, gymnasium; art, music, and commercial science rooms; library and domestic science room. 26 PWA funds aided also in erecting th< Ocean View School and in making additions to the Robert Gatewoo( School. Improvements to the Booker T. Washington High School cos $141,000, of which the WPA paid $60,600. It was in 1938 that the city in an effort to provide work for Negri women on relief conceived the idea of developing an azalea garden ii the wooded area adjacent to the airport. With the aid of the WP/ seventy-five acres of woodland were soon cleared and linked by fiv miles of trails, and 4,200 azaleas, together with hundreds of camellia; rhododendrons, redbuds and other plants added. Today this is one o the most beautiful spots in the United States, rivaling in charm th famous Middleton Place and the Magnolia Gardens of South Care lina. 27 In 1936 the city decided to make new street construction provid work for persons on the relief rolls, and thus succeeded in gettin fifty-eight cents of every dollar from the WPA. In 1939 alone 8.2 mile of new streets and 14.6 miles of curbing and gutters were laid dowi at a cost of $193,119 to the city and $263,977 to the WPA. Othe projects by the PWA and the WPA were the building of the Norfol Community Hospital for Negroes, the completion of jetties at Ocea; View and Willoughby, the extension of the sewage system, the addin of nearly 15,000 feet of water pipes, and the beautifying of the cit parks. In 1940 the WPA diverted its funds from many projects of ger eral utility in order to assign all relief labor to defense projects. B that time Norfolk merchants reported that gains in business were fror 25 to 50 per cent over 1933. The payment of back taxes was largel responsible for converting the $200,000 deficit of 1933 into a $300,00 surplus. Commercial shipping was the best since 1929. A visit of th United States fleet, with its 40,000 officers and men, brought neede business. Thus year after year the city registered gains, until the gret depression became little more than a bad memory. 26 Civic Affairs, 1939, pp. 37-40. 27 Ibid., 1940, pp. 74, 75. S43 Depression and Recovery But the depression and the New Deal had lasting effects which were ;o be vitally important in shaping the city’s development during the lext two decades. Prior to the New Deal it was largely taken for granted that the control of American cities was the responsibility of he cities themselves. Why should a municipality turn to the Federal government for aid in paving streets, or building bridges, or laying lown sewage pipes? But with the experience of the CWA, the PWA, md the WPA, opinion changed. Begun chiefly to relieve unemploy- nent, these agencies played an ever-increasing part in the development >f the cities themselves. With the return of prosperity there was wide opposition to a return o the old state of affairs. The cities were reluctant to turn their backs m needed improvements for which Federal aid was needed; the Fed- ral government was reluctant to give up a source of local political in- luence. So Norfolk, when she needed a new schoolhouse, or a hospital, r street paving, or a new bridge, or slum clearance, turned for aid to Jncle Sam. The Norfolk of today, with its fine public buildings, its lospitals, its broad boulevards, its steel and concrete bridges, its lovely iarks, its underpasses, its Museum of Arts and Sciences, its modern irport, its sewage system, would not be the same had not Uncle Sam aken her by the hand. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN The Second World War 1 he people of Norfolk wanted their city to grow. But the' wanted growth to be gradual, to be the natural result of the advan tages offered by their situation and their magnificent harbor. They die not want to repeat the experience of the First World War, with it explosive growth, so they watched with apprehension as the wa clouds grew blacker and blacker in the years from 1937 to 1941. It was in Reconstruction days in South Carolina that a planter wa brought before a Freedman’s Bureau court, with an all-Negro jury, t( be tried for killing a cow which had been turned loose in his garden The jury returned the verdict, “Not guilty this time, but don’t do i again.” The people of the United States did not want to be drawn ; second time into an overseas war, and so passed a Neutrality Act ir 1935 designed to steer the nation clear of the rocks upon which isola tionism foundered in 1914. “War is a contagion, whether it is de dared or undeclared,” said President Roosevelt in October, 1937. “Wt are determined to keep out of war.” But it became more and more apparent that isolation was impossible in a world aflame. Norfolk celebrated New Year’s Day, 1939, witl mixed feelings. There was rejoicing at the return of prosperity, witl booming industry, full employment, easy money, but alarm at the perilous situation in both Europe and Asia. In Spain General France had renewed his smash at the center of the government’s lines. In the Far East Japanese war planes were dropping their bombs in a deatf shower over China. The German press was denouncing Roosevelt anc threatening the United States with war; Hitler boasted that he hat Aryanized the German people and proclaimed his absorption of Aus tria and the Sudetenland, which he called, “The richest harvest in oui history.” London viewed Germany’s plan for doubling her submarine The Second World War 345 strength as the opening of a new race for naval supremacy. 1 The world was shocked and incredulous when word was received that Hitler was seeking to exterminate the Jews in Germany. “I myself could scarcely believe that such things could occur in a twentieth-century civiliza¬ tion,” said President Roosevelt. Though he did not want war, the President thought it wise to pre¬ pare for it should it be forced upon the nation. In January, 1938, he asked Congress to appropriate a billion dollars for naval defense, and reluctantly Congress complied. Thereupon Admiral Leahy announced that construction would start on two battleships, four cruisers, eight destroyers, and six or eight submarines. The effect on Norfolk was electric. At the request of the Navy De¬ partment $12,000,000 was set aside for construction at the Naval Base and the Navy Yard. Soon hundreds of men were at work at the Naval Base, replacing the old frame structures built hurriedly during World War I with brick and stone buildings, enlarging the bachelor officers’ quarters, repairing the submarine base, dredging at the piers, putting up barracks. At the Naval Air Station over half a million dollars was spent for repair shops, and $395,000 on improvements to .he runways and landing field. Down on the Southern Branch at the Navy Yard work started on a 1,000 foot pier, and on rebuilding the ways for the construction of one of the new great battleships. All this neant work for 15,000 men, 5,000 at the Navy Yard alone, with a pay- 'oll of $18,000,000 a year. 2 Mars was handing out the gold with a prim smile and a lavish hand. The hard times of the early thirties were forgotten in the glow of a Jew prosperity. The stores on Granby Street buzzed with activity. Two rew schools had been opened, and the Community Hospital for Ne¬ groes was being built. The people boasted of the completion of the beautiful azalea gardens, the new Municipal Airport, new jetties at Dcean View, the growth of suburban areas, the paving of new streets, he Twenty-sixth Street Bridge over the Lafayette River, the expanded water system, the completion of an addition to the Museum of Arts ind Sciences. 3 But elation was tempered by the realization that this was a war Doom. “There is no question of tremendous expansion due to Fed¬ eral activities,” warned City Manager Charles B. Borland. Should war 1 Virginian-Pilot , Jan. 1, 1939. 2 Ibid. 3 Civic Affairs, 1939. 346 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port come, it would bring temporary inflation, he feared, followed by a nev slump. So the people of the city viewed events in Europe with in creasing alarm—the continued saber-rattling, the German-Soviet non aggression pact, Hitler’s demand for the return of the Polish Corridoi and Danzig. On September 2, 1939, when they picked up the morning paper, they found the first page half covered with blazing headlines “Britain and France Ready to Enter War”; “Major Hostilities betweer Germans and Poles”; “Twenty Cities Bombed”; “Poland’s Allies to Aci Today if Ultimatum Rejected”; “Germany Given Final Warning tc Halt Aggressive Action and Recall Troops”; “British and Frencl Standing Firmly Together, Order General Mobilization and Summor Parliaments to Act Immediately.” A roundup of newspaper opinion by the Virginian-Pilot showed ar overwhelming majority of editorial opinion in favor of American neu trality. “The United States must keep out of this war,” was reiteratec from coast to coast. But the editor of the Virginian-Pilot wisely pointec out that the drive for neutrality had been just as strong in 1914. “Th< real test will come later,” he said. “Then American lives and Americar homes will be affected. American business will be affected. Americai thinking will be affected. American emotion will be affected.” 4 But for the moment things seemed to be going as usual. Childrei were preparing to go back to school after the summer’s vacation, visi tors began to leave the beaches, the college football teams startec practice. But the somber undertone w T as apparent in the President’ proclamation of American neutrality, the cancellation of passports fo Europe, and the U-boat sinkings. As the months passed and German' and Italy won one success after another and it became more and mori obvious that American interests were involved, President Roosevel began to waver on neutrality. “We must strain every nerve, not only t( build up our own strength,” he said, “but to send aid to Great Britain.’ In May, 1940, he requested funds from Congress for “at least 50,001 planes a year.” Norfolk now became more and more a center for naval and mili tary activity. The Navy Yard, with 11,000 employees in June, 1940 was addins: new workers at the rate of a thousand a month. The Nava Base was planning to double its 8,000 employees. In July, 1940, 1,03. acres of land were taken over by the government for the expansion 0 the Naval Base and the Naval Air Station. Soon steam shovels ap 4 Virginian-Pilot, Sept. 3, 1939. The Second World War 347 peared on the scene, and two suction dredges began pumping mud and sand to fill in the low places. Machines began to uproot trees and stumps. Carpenters and masons set to work constructing barracks, piers, warehouses, etc. At the Navy Yard work was hastened on the gigantic battleship Alabama . 5 The Army moved into the Virginia Military Reservation at the south end of Virginia Beach, which was renamed Camp Pendleton, and into Fort Story at Cape Henry. Though these bases are several miles from the city, the soldiers piled into buses at every opportunity and came in to the movies and to dances. At times the streets were full of them. It was on July 29, 1940, that President Roosevelt emphasized the importance of Hampton Roads as a defense center by choosing it for an inspection tour. As he came ashore from his yacht Potomac at the Navy Yard, he was greeted by Rear Admiral Joseph K. Taussig, Con¬ gressman Colgate W. Darden and others, and conducted through this hive of activity. Then he was driven to the Naval Base through :heering crowds, over the Campostella Bridge, through the heart of :he city, up Hampton Boulevard, over the Lafayette River. At the aase he expressed satisfaction at the progress that was being made. “A /ear from now we are going to be a lot safer,” he said. 6 The President during his brief stay could not have realized the nany perplexing problems which the sudden increase of defense ac- ivities brought to Norfolk. The population was growing by leaps and oounds, with hundreds of families moving in to take advantage of >oom conditions. By June, 1941, there were 15,559 officers and enlisted nen at the Naval Base and 14,426 more on the ships based there; vhile at the Navy Yard civilian workers numbered 20,893 and Navy lersonnel 3,716. Altogether sailors and naval employees in the Norfolk irea numbered 71,669 and their wives and children 37,916. It was esti- nated in November, 1941, that the population of the city had nearly loubled since the beginning of the defense movement. 7 The people of Norfolk found it hard to reconcile themselves to this udden change. “You know I’ve been standing here for an hour,” a ifelong citizen said to a passing friend. “I think I’ve seen 10,000 ieople and I don’t believe I know more than two of them. A few 5 Ibid., Dec. 28, 1941. 6 Ibid., July 30, 1940. 7 Ibid., Dec. 28, 1941. 348 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port years ago, watching people walk along here, I would have known half of them, perhaps 90 per cent of them. Now I hardly know any of them.” 8 If the situation was difficult for the people of Norfolk, it was more so for the newcomers. There were not enough houses, not enough hospital beds. The water supply was inadequate; there were too few schools. In going to and from work one might have to stand while bus after bus went by too crowded to squeeze in even one more passenger. There were long lines before the movies, it was hard to find a table at a restaurant, facilities for recreation fell short of needs. “We have a bigger recreation problem here than probably any other place in America,” stated former City Manager Thomas P. Thompson. “We have both the Army and Navy with us and there are times when we have 10,000 to 15,000 soldiers and sailors on our streets.” 9 It was the housing situation which caused the most trouble. Admiral Taussig reported that thousands of Navy men were forced to live in disgraceful conditions, as many as three or four often being crowded into a single room, and at times several families sharing a single bath. The term “hot bed” was commonly used to mean a room rented to one person in the daytime and to another at night. Landlords split their houses into several units, and then made more units out of them. Rentals were high. 10 Private builders were working hard to meet this need, putting up charming small houses here and there, and starting several develop¬ ments for apartments. But there was some hesitation. Was there any certainty that the shortage would last after the close of the war? People did not want to invest their savings in houses which in a few years might be vacant. “I cannot imagine a greater catastrophe than to have the out-of-town builders construct the thousands of houses they say they are going to build,” said the secretary of the Real Estate Board. “They will take their profit and run, leaving our citizens to struggle with a greatly overbuilt community.” But Admiral Taussig was troubled with no such fear. What he wanted was housing for his men, and he wanted it immediately. So he bombarded Washington until it consented to a housing project of 1,042 units for enlisted men, to be located just east of Hampton Boulevard. Benmoreell, the development was called. It was with openly ex- 8 Ibid. 9 Ibid., July 19, 1941. 10 Ibid., June 21, 1941. The Second World War 349 pressed joy that naval families left their cramped quarters to move in when the first units were thrown open in March, 1942. “We like Norfolk better now!” all agreed. 11 The city too did its part. In June, 1940, the Council created a Housing Authority, which was to administer a 500-unit housing de¬ velopment, sponsored by the Federal government for married enlisted men in the Navy. In addition to the dwellings, there was a combina¬ tion community center and administration building with an audi¬ torium, storage room, repair rooms, offices, etc. 12 This project, called Merrimack Park, was located on Mason’s Creek, adjoining the exten¬ sion of the Naval Air Station. The sudden influx of thousands of families put a heavy strain upon the water supply. New houses would be useless if their occupants remained thirsty and unwashed. A main source of supply was Lake Prince, in Nansemond County, but the old wood pipeline w T as inade¬ quate to meet the vastly increased needs. So miles of new 30-inch and 36-inch pipe were laid down, at a cost of a third of a million dollars. But after the supply of water had been increased, it was still necessary to facilitate its distribution to outlying districts, and 22,700 feet of 16-inch cast iron pipe were added to supply the northern area, and several miles more to supply the Army forces at Fort Story and Camp Pendleton. To see that the water moved along the pipes, it was nec¬ essary to establish new pumping stations and to increase the capacity. Fortunately for the city it was Uncle Sam who had to reach in his pocket to meet most of the cost of these improvements. 13 The joy of the worker at the Naval Base who succeeded in finding a place to live was often short-lived when he found how difficult it was to get there. When he complained that there should be more streetcars and buses, he was told that more had been ordered. At the gate to the base there were often long lines of stalled cars waiting to get in in the morning and out in the afternoon. And when once out, there might be further delays at grade crossings. Downtown, the narrow streets were often tangled with automobiles, trucks, streetcars, and buses. “This disgusted reader is an expert in the art of exhaling an unnecessary breath from his lungs,” wrote one rider, “folding his body into a compact bundle and plunging into the swaying, stumbling mass of humanity hanging from straps, bars, or just balancing them- 11 Ibid.., March 26, 1941, pp. 9, 18. 12 Civic Affairs, 1940, pp. 26-29. 13 Civic Affairs, 1940, pp. 40, 41; Virginian-Pilot, Aug. 6, 1940. 350 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port selves as best they can.” 14 It was not unusual to see a streetcar with five or six sailors on the roof or hanging on outside the rear plat¬ form. One sailor swore that he never knew the cars had seats. A story went the rounds about the motorman who always succeeded in crowd¬ ing “just one more on,” until it turned out that for every one hauled in at the front one was being pushed off at the rear. 15 The Bureau of Traffic Survey, established in 1939, struggled with this problem. At its advice automatic traffic lights were installed where most needed; nearly 1,500 new traffic signs were set up; new parking meters were installed; controls were fixed at Main Street and Com¬ mercial Place, and elsewhere. But the main problem was dumped in the lap of the Federal government, w'ith recommendation for under¬ passes and new roads. 16 The government, recognizing the folly of hav¬ ing trucks and automobiles foundering in the mud or caught in traffic jams in northern Norfolk, set aside $530,000 for road improvement. Workmen began widening, straightening, and paving Sewells Point Road; widening and resurfacing Hampton Boulevard north of La¬ fayette River Bridge; and widening and paving Admiral Taussig Boulevard from the main gate to the east gate of the Naval Base. 17 With so many sailors and soldiers on the Norfolk streets it w’as vitally important that they have facilities to play. Most of them were mere boys, and if there were not enough playing fields, not enough parks, not enough social centers, no auditorium, it was inevitable that many would gravitate to the disreputable houses on East Main Street. It is true that clean sport beckoned on the beaches stretching from Ocean View to Virginia Beach, and during the summer months thousands of servicemen could be seen stretched out on the sand, or diving through the surf. But with the coming of cold weather they had to look else¬ where. In solving the recreation problem a fundamental difference of policy developed between the city and the Navy and Army. Since the need of the services was urgent and immediate, they pressed for speed; since the need of the city was permanent, it demanded solidity. The city recreation committee worked out plans for a combination recrea¬ tion center, auditorium, and arena, and secured for it an allocation of $278,000 from the Federal War Agency. But great was City Manager Borland’s disappointment on discovering that the money was to be 14 Virginian-Pilot. July 31, 1941. 15 Ibid., Jan. 1, 1955. 16 Civic Affairs, 1940, p. 20. 17 Virginian-Pilot, Dec. 28, 1941. The Second World War 35i used for a temporary building. “If Secretary Knox is correct in his estimate of Norfolk’s future as a permanently enlarged naval center, temporary structures for local defense recreation facilities would hardly seem to qualify as a sound solution of the problem,” pointed out the Virginian-Pilot . 1S In the end it was agreed that the city should add $245,000 to the FWA grant, and the auditorium be made permanent. So work was started on a building to include a theater of two thousand seats, and an arena to hold five thousand persons. But it was only in May, 1943, that the building was completed, and Richard D. Cooke, head of the USO Management Committee, began scheduling entertainments. Servicemen were admitted free to the dances and were allotted many tickets to other events, but civilians had to pay. 19 When a married Navy man moved to Norfolk, after he had secured a place to live, he looked around for a school for his children. He had the choice of many fine schools—the Maury High School, Ruffner Junior High School, Granby Street High School, Blair Junior High School, and others. But, if he lived at or near the Navy Base, some of these schools which were in other parts of the city were too far away for his children to reach. So there was overcrowding in the schools near by, especially in Granby Street High School with 1,698 pupils, Dcean View School with 1,005 children, and Madison, Bay View, and Willard schools. 20 In some cases the numbers were so great that it became necessary to operate in two shifts. While the new pupils were crowding into ;;chools, the number of qualified teachers decreased because of the :emptation of the higher salaries offered by war industries. When the war ended, more than a third of the city’s teachers held only emer¬ gency certificates. 21 The overflow of population into the suburbs nade the school problem especially acute in Norfolk County, where :he number of pupils increased from 10,407 in 1940 to 23,893 in 1945. It was only with the construction of additional classrooms at Granby 'rligh School and the Titustown schools with grants from Uncle Sam hat there was partial relief. What the servicemen who poured into Norfolk looked for above 18 Oct. 1, 1941. 19 Marvin W. Schlegel, Conscripted City: Norfolk in World War II (Norfolk, 1951) , ’■ 312. 20 Civic Affairs, 1940, pp. 122, 123. 21 C. F. Marsh, ed.. The Hampton Roads Communities in World War II (Chapel fill, 1951) , p. 134. 352 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port all else was a bit of hospitality. The married men wanted their fami¬ lies to meet old Norfolk families; the single men wanted to meet Nor¬ folk girls. “The fascinating problem is how to bring to individual soldier and sailor boys and defense workers and their families the de¬ cent, pleasant and interesting life of the home town,’’ said Admiral Taussig. 22 But in the matter of hospitality, as in other things, the city was swamped. The people might open their homes to a limited num¬ ber of newcomers, but it would be only a drop in the bucket. And if here and there friendships were formed, they might be interrupted by orders for the serviceman to move. Yet the city did what it could. As early as December, 1940, Saturday night free dances for sailors and soldiers were organized. The dance committee, however, found it difficult to recruit enough girls, since Norfolk girls were wary of sailors, although they responded more freely when a dance was given for soldiers from the beach camps. There were Saturday night dances for Negro sailors at the Booker T. Washington High School. These dances were organized by C. Wiley Grandy, chairman of the committee on recreation for Negro service¬ men. 23 But it was on Christmas, 1941, that Norfolk really opened its heart. One hundred sailors were entertained for dinner in the recreation hall of the Methodist church. All over the city homes were opened to servicemen, with good Virginia cooking highlighted by “old ham” and wild goose. 24 The USO on West Freemason Street, operated by the YWCA, gave a party with a large Christmas tree, with hundreds of stockings filled with stamps, razor blades, cigarettes, fruits, and candy. 25 The Navy or Army boy who headed back to his post that night realized that Norfolk was not the coldhearted place it was reputed to be. The people of the city were proud of what had been accomplished in so short a time to meet the situation suddenly thrust upon them, despite labor shortages, difficulty in getting essential materials, and Federal red tape. So they were surprised and angered when a series of articles appeared in prominent magazines depicting Norfolk as a place of “confusion, chicanery, ineptitude,” with an “air of decrepi¬ tude,” of “apathy and decay.” Collier’s dwelt on the night life in some of the trailer camps. The Architectural Forum gave the impression 22 Virginian-Pilot, March 28, 1941. 23 Ibid., Jan. 9, 1941. 24 Ibid., Dec. 25, 1941. 25 Ibid., Dec. 14, 1941. The Second World War 353 that Norfolk was “nothing but a dump.” PM, the American Mercury, and other magazines followed in like vein. 26 To call their city ugly was especially offensive to the people of Nor¬ folk. These writers must have been blind not to have noticed the architectural gems of Norfolk, that is if they had ever visited the city they were describing. Had they seen the Moses Myers Home, or the old City Hall, or the old Norfolk Academy, or the charming little Adam Thoroughgood House? In speaking of the article in the Archi¬ tectural Forum, the Virginian-Pilot accused the writer of “gross exag¬ gerations.” “And by dint of completely ignoring certain of the city’s physical aspects that are admirable, the portrait painter represents Norfolk as a Rip Van Winkle kind of town—save when war touches its magnificent harbor and electrifies the city’s hardened arteries.” 27 Disturbed by the deluge of unfavorable criticism, the Navy Depart¬ ment began an investigation to see whether the city was indeed a modern Jericho. So a committee was sent to Norfolk to question local officials, naval and military officers, and others. Their report stated that the unfavorable conditions had been greatly magnified, and that, de¬ spite the extreme difficulties which had faced the city manager and the Council, they had performed their jobs remarkably well. 28 The people of Norfolk were settling down to a quiet Sunday after¬ noon on December 7, 1941, when news came that a force of Japanese planes had swept over the American naval base at Pearl Harbor in Hawaii and showered down bombs on the Pacific fleet. As word of this treacherous attack spread throughout the city, there was wild ex¬ citement. Automobiles were piled up in long lines before the Virginian- Pilot building while newsboys dashed in and out shouting: “Extras! We want extras!” 29 Just how devastating the attack had been was not known for several days, but gradually the news came out that five battleships and three cruisers had been sunk or crippled, with 3,500 casualties. A cry for revenge arose from the American people; Congress promptly declared war on Japan. In his report on the raid Secretary Knox admitted that the Navy had not been on the alert. “Why were they not?” the editor of the Virginian-Pilot wished to know. “It is important that the responsibility Ifor this negligence be fixed.” 30 It was only two years later that he had 26 Ibid., June 20, 1942. 27 Ibid., June 21, 1942. 28 Ibid., Jan. 2, 1944. 29 Ibid., Dec. 8, 1941. 30 Ibid., Dec. 16, 1941. 354 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port the answer. A White Book, issued by the State Department, then re¬ vealed that Ambassador Grew had called up from Tokyo less than two weeks before the destruction of the fleet to warn that the Japanese had plans for a “surprise attack at Pearl Harbor.” Just why this warn¬ ing was ignored may never be known. War with Germany and Italy followed immediately, and Norfolk had to prepare for defense. It was quite unlikely that a fleet could cross the Atlantic to enter the Chesapeake Bay and land a force on Virginia soil, as the British had done in the War of 1812; but, there were new perils unknown in former days. Might not the German U-boats sneak into Hampton Roads to shatter American shipping? Might not a horde of German bombers sweep over the city to lay its buildings in ruins and bring death to thousands of its people? The city immediately took on a more warlike appearance. Army convoys were seen passing in and out. Antiaircraft batteries and search¬ lights along the roadsides and at defense centers pointed to the sky. Two hundred men from the Army moved into the Twelfth Street Armory to aid in air raid defense. At the Municipal Airport a squadron of interceptor planes made ready to repel the enemy. “In the present great emergency we have the responsibility of protecting the city in case of air raids and other dangers,” one councilman warned the people. Mayor J. D. Wood promised that the citizens would be told how best to combat incendiary bombs. Police and fire officers were given special training at one of the near-by Army posts. Two new fire engines were ordered. Two hundred men and women responded to the appeal for air raid wardens by pledging their serv¬ ices, and seventy-five women registered for duty at the air defense center. 31 Women volunteers from the American Legion Auxiliary manned a battery of telephones to warn police, firemen, doctors and defense units of the approach of the enemy. 32 In the meantime, Richard M. Marshall, a civic-minded insurance executive, was made chief air raid warden of the Hampton Roads area, and set up his office in the Pender Building. In October he held a drill, with sirens screeching, and a fire blazing on the roof of a warehouse, to simulate an incendiary bomb. 33 When he tried it again the United States had entered the war, and the blackout took on a grim reality. Everywhere the air raid wardens, with their white helmets and 31 Ibid., Dec. 10, 1941. 32 Ibid.., Dec. 11, 1941. 33 Ibid,., Oct. 11, 1941. The Second World War 355 blue-and-red insignia, could be seen knocking on doors to put out lights and stopping cars and ordering the drivers to seek cover. One merchant who had left his neon sign blazing was dismayed the next morning to find that an angry crowd had smashed it during the night. Other merchants, though they put out their lights, telephoned to know why the Christmas period had been selected. “The Germans and the Japanese won’t let us know when they are coming,” Mr. Marshall re¬ plied. Not satisfied with this trial, Mr. Marshall staged another later in the month. “Our aim is to black this city out as black as ink,” he announced. This time the civil defense workers, the Army, and the Navy co-ordinated their efforts; when the sirens sounded, street lights went out, merchants pulled down the store shades, buses came to a stop, and to imaginary bombers the city was invisible. 34 As the war progressed, the people of Norfolk realized that the time had come to “tighten the belt.” As early as January, 1942, there was a sugar shortage, and grocery stores began to ration their customers. Restaurants frowned on persons who insisted on piling four or five heaping teaspoonsful of sugar in one cup of coffee. The public re¬ sentment against the sugar-hog was illustrated by an incident in a downtown drugstore. When a heavy man expressed resentment be- :ause a waitress refused to give him three teaspoonsful in his coffee, a smaller man next to him said: “You don’t get any sugar, and you don’t get any coffee, either, but you do get this.” And he landed a blow Dn the man’s face. 35 \ Despite the sudden expansion of the population, Norfolk did not suffer for food. The farmers of the Eastern Shore, Nansemond, and Isle ff Wight laid out abundant crops and flooded the city markets with neat, poultry, dairy products, potatoes, and other vegetables. And the oeople of the city and servicemen alike had no reason to complain if they could not get all the coffee they liked. More serious was the rationing of gasoline and tires, and the ration roard office in the old municipal building was often besieged by ingry citizens. “How can we get to work without gasoline?” was the tomplaint. “Without my share, you are forcing me to use the already trowded buses and streetcars, if indeed I can squeeze into them.” If he ration board turned them down, they appealed to the local gas dealers not to punch their cards. As a result before the end of June, 1942, more than half the service stations in the city were dry. 34 Ibid., Dec. 30, 1941. 35 Ibid., Feb. 4, 1942. 356 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port The outlawing of pleasure driving, which became effective in January, 1943, added to the discontent. The managers of clubs and other places of entertainment wondered whether this restriction would put them out of business. Would a person by driving to a park, or the shore, or a concert, or a movie, or a high school football game be in danger of losing his gasoline ration? 36 But when the ruling was put to the test, the hardship was not as great as many had feared. People discovered that it did them no harm to walk, to use near-by places of amusement, or to use the streetcars or the buses. The w r ar w r as brought home to the people on a Sunday in October, 1942, w T hen a seemingly unending stream of military vehicles moved up Hampton Boulevard. They were a part of Task Force A under the command of General George S. Patton, Jr., which sailed from Hamp¬ ton Roads for North Africa a few days later. “Never before in the history of warfare had an amphibious force set out from one side of the ocean to land and attack an objective 3,000 miles away.” 37 By the end of 1942 Norfolk would have been well on the way to¬ ward solving the problems caused by the swelling of the population, had the population not continued to increase. But each day brought new hundreds in search of work in the Navy Yard or the Naval Base, or in stores, or in factories. The large number of naval ships in the harbor greatly added to the "floating population,” for not only did the sailors swarm in the streets when on liberty, but wives, sweet¬ hearts, mothers, and other relatives came to visit them. This transient population, though it cannot be numbered with any degree of ac¬ curacy, placed almost as great a burden on the city facilities as those who came to remain. And the permanent newcomers increased the population of the city in the years from 1940 to 1944 by about 44,000, of the adjoining Norfolk County by a like number, of Princess Anne County by 5,000, and of Portsmouth by 13,000. Since many of those who came to near-by localities worked, took most of their recreation, and did most of their shopping in Norfolk, they w r ere actually a part of the city’s population and added almost as much to its problems as though they resided within its limits. 38 So to provide water, gas, electricity, hospitals, schools, transporta tion, recreation, police protection, sewerage, and fire protection fot 36 Ibid., Jan. 7, 1943. 37 W. R. Wheeler, ed.. The Road to Victory (2 vols.; Newport News, 1946), I PP- 65-72. 38 Marsh, The Hampton Roads Communities in World War II, pp. 79-82. The Second World War 357 this horde was a constantly increasing headache. Despite the fact that new construction had continued at a record-breaking rate for three years, and that in 1942 alone $8,100,000, exclusive of Federal grants, had.been spent on new houses, with the coming of 1943 newcomers still found it difficult to find places to live. 39 Hundreds of families tried to meet the housing situation by bring¬ ing trailers and camping in Princess Anne and Norfolk counties. But when the operators of the camps refused to pay the county taxes, the authorities cut off the electric lights and running water. “These families are not paying taxes to the county, yet are receiving the benefits offered to taxpayers, including police and fire protection and schooling for their children,” the City Council pointed out. 40 So con¬ cerned was Rear Admiral Gygax, Commandant of the Navy Yard, at the possibility that this impasse might force hundreds of highly skilled workers to leave the area that he sent a fleet of motor trucks to move many of the trailers to sites at a Federal Housing camp. He was determined, he said, to find places for all evicted trailer work¬ men. 41 The housing problem remained until the end of the war despite the completion of several vast building projects. By January, 1944, no less than 9,574 permanent and 4,592 temporary dwellings, and 540 dormitories had been added north of the Elizabeth River; and 4,931 permanent homes, 6,472 temporary dwellings, and 2,222 dormitories on the Portsmouth side. Since most of these units were reserved for war workers, none was without a place to lay his head. But service¬ men, who continued to pour in by the thousands, found it almost impossible to secure living quarters for their families. One Navy iofficer, with his wife and small child, spent three nights in an auto¬ mobile, while four other children were housed with friends. 42 To ease this situation the hotels agreed to reserve some rooms until six in the evening for servicemen and others engaged in war work, and to keep them five days if necessary while they looked for permanent homes. If for newcomers the finding of places to live was of first impor¬ tance, an adequate supply of pure water was vital to the entire popu¬ lation. So there was rejoicing when the expansion program for the water system, started in 1941, was pushed to completion. The second pipeline to Lake Prince made 30,000,000 gallons available daily from 39 Virginian-Pilot, June 2, 1943. 40 Ibid., Jan. 2, 5, and 7, 1943. 41 Ibid., Jan. 20, 1943. 42 Ibid., July 28, 1944. 358 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port that reservoir; a dam at Lake Burnt Mills was finished; a new water line was laid down to Virginia Beach. The city took over the Notto way River and Blackwater River lines, which had been built by the Federal government. New filtering units were placed in the Thirty- seventh Street pumping station, doubling its capacity. 43 Despite a shortage of labor, caused by the shifting of workers to war jobs, great progress was made in solving the traffic problem. A military highway sweeping around the city from the toll-free bridge at Portlock to the intersection of Granby Street and Admiral Taussig Boulevard was completed. Certain streets were widened, sidewalks were installed in others. When the Office of Defense Transportation in Washington heard that streetcars and buses in Norfolk were jammed, they made a survey of traffic in the city and ordered the rerouting of several of the bus lines. Whatever improvement this made in traffic, it did hoi mollify those whom the change forced to use their legs on the way tc and from their w r ork. 44 Like other facilities, the hospitals were crowded. So there w T as much satisfaction when the new 300-bed de Paul Hospital on Granby Street near Talbot Park was ready for occupancy. This structure, built b) the Federal government at a cost of $1,750,000, was taken over b) St. Vincent’s Hospital, which abandoned the old building on Church Street. By the end of 1944 workmen were adding the last touch to a new wing of the Leigh Memorial Hospital, while additions to the Norfolk General Hospital were completed. 45 With a grant of $42,900 from the Federal government for a program of recreation backed by $37,000 from the city, servicemen found Nor folk a more attractive place to live. Lafayette Park was a favorite spot for officers and men, with dancing in the summer and skating ir winter. The new auditorium and arena, which was leased to the United Service Organizations, provided endless pleasure to soldier; and sailors. The first dance, held on July 31, 1943, was followed b) boxing matches, wrestling, basketball, lectures, and concerts. Late in 1943 the old Talbot House on West Freemason Street was remodeled by the Woman’s Council of the Navy League and openec as a club for commissioned officers of the United Nations navies Formerly many an ensign, or lieutenant, or commander, or captair 43 Ibid., Jan. 2, 1944. 44 Ibid. 45 Ibid. The Second World War 359 felt that time was hanging heavy on his hands when he came down¬ town. But now there was a typical old Norfolk home where he could dine and dance, play games, read, write, or just loaf. Here, also, he could join in parties, teas, and dances. “We felt they needed a place to gather and mingle with Norfolk girls,” said Mrs. P. N. L. Bellinger, chairman of the council’s club committee. 46 That Norfolk was a hive of industry from the outbreak of war in Europe to the surrender of Japan was due chiefly to one thing—-ship¬ building. And though there were several small private yards, by far the largest part of the work was done by the Norfolk Navy Yard. The chief task of this great establishment had always been to repair war¬ ships and during this critical period hundreds limped up the South¬ ern Branch for an overhauling. In addition, forty-two warships were built, among-them the mighty Alabama. The work done at the Navy Yard during the war period cost Uncle Sam nearly a billion dollars, one half of which was paid out in wages. Here the demand was for output, output irrespective of cost. On output might depend the result of the war. Workers poured in from near-by farms, from other industries, from states as far off as Cali¬ fornia. Norfolk itself suffered from the loss of policemen, firemen, garbage collectors, who resigned to take advantage of the higher wages at the Yard. Visitors were astonished to find hundreds of women doing men’s work there, some even operating cranes and welding ships. Whereas in January, 1940, there were but 6,520 work¬ ers at the Yard, in March, 1943, the number had mounted to ! 43,ooo. 47 So spectacular was government shipbuilding that it overshadowed the substantial gains made by private industry. Yet the output of the major firms almost tripled in the years from 1939 to 1944, and the average plant nearly doubled the number of its employees. Food and like products, fertilizers, and furniture continued to be the chief private industries, with shipbuilding forging ahead for the closing months of the war. Commerce, too, was deeply affected by the war. As news came in of the sinking of colliers from the Hampton Roads ports on their way to New England and New York, coal shipments were often shifted to all-rail routes, free from the submarine menace. But the piers were <6 Ibid. 47 Marsh, The Hampton Roads Communities in World War II, pp. 62-65. 360 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port even busier than in peace times. A bystander would have seen an endless stream of men, mules and machines going aboard the trans¬ ports. Here the great cranes lifted hundreds of 1,000-pound demoli tion bombs and swung them into waiting holds as though they had been tenpins; now a howitzer tank was hoisted aboard; now a mass ol 155-millimeter shells; now several carloads of double-decked jeeps; now a line of mules. A few weeks later these men and this equipment would be in the midst of the conflict on the battlefields of North Africa and Europe. As the U-boat menace slackened in 1944 and 1945, shipments of coal picked up, both to Europe and the North. In addition, as Italy was conquered and the Germans were driven out of France, vast quantities of foodstuffs, livestock, and other goods went out from Hampton Roads for the rehabilitation of those and other war-torn countries. So great was this need that thirty ships that had been lying idle in the James River and elsewhere were brought back into serv¬ ice. 48 When the news reached Norfolk that Hitler had committed suicide, it was realized that the end was at hand. But it was six days later that the flash came over that Germany had surrendered unconditionally. The next morning, after President Truman confirmed the report in a radio address, the news was received with prayerful dignity and thankfulness. Shopkeepers closed their stores and went home. La¬ borers in the shipyards paused in their work to exchange congratula¬ tions. That night for the first time in many months lights blazed in store windows and neon signs shone from atop big downtown buildings. Lights glowed in the churches, too, for there people gathered to give thanks to God for victory. But the thoughts of all dwelt on the cost— the loss of sons, of husbands, of fathers. There were thoughts, also, of the task still to be done. Rear Admiral David LeBreton expressed the spirit of the day when he said, “This is the time for thanksgiving and not celebration, which must wait until all our enemies stand under a white flag.” 49 That day was not long delayed. In August, 1945, the world’s first atomic bomb laid Hiroshima in ruins and gave warning to the Japa¬ nese to surrender or face destruction. At seven in the evening of August 14 word was received that the war was over. This time the 48 Virginian-Pilot, Jan. 9, 1947. 49 Ibid., May 9, 1945. The Second World War 361 celebration was noisy and wild. The streets were soon full of excited people. Sailors and girls joined hands and weaved in and out, snake¬ dancing between the cars. Others hopped on runningboards, fenders and bumpers. Sailors, realizing that they were the heroes of the day, swung gaily through the crowds, arms encompassing female com¬ panions, pausing now and then to steal a kiss. A clanging motorman tried futilely to pilot his trolley, a washtub tied to its rear, through the crowd on Granby Street. 50 Norfolk emerged from World War II a different place from the city which entered it a few years before. The war had proved a most valuable school of municipal affairs for the city manager, the council, and the citizenry. They took new interest in the city, new pride in ithe efficiency with which it was run, insisted upon a more adequate water supply, a better system of street lighting, more beautiful parks, finer schools, - a more efficient police force, larger hospitals, slum clearances, a better public library, and a local orchestra. Not that these things grew out of the war experience, for some of them had been suggested and some were actually on the way before Pearl Har¬ bor. But it was the war which proved the great stimulus which brought what may be called the laissez-faire period to an end. Nor can we ignore the tens of thousands of newcomers in account¬ ing for the change. If we include the built-up suburbs just outside the limits of the city we realize that Norfolk had doubled in population. Had the newcomers spent only the war years in Norfolk, their influence would have been small, but tens of thousands became per¬ manent citizens. As such they brought new ideas, new energy, and played a part in arousing interest in the government and local im¬ provements. The war brought much confusion to Norfolk, it brought crowded living quarters, hasty marriages and other social maladjustments, but it played an important role in the development of the greater, more efficient, more prosperous Norfolk of today. 50 Ibid., Aug. 15 , 1945 . CHAPTER EIGHTEEN Thinking Big The surprising result of Norfolk’s fifth major war was a remarkable transformation of the spirit of its people. The city had watched the wartime boom begin with wary eyes, remembering pain¬ fully the optimistic overexpansion brought on by the First World War and the expensive economic burden it had imposed during the depressed 1930’s. To prevent a repetition of the same disaster, local real-estate interests had obtained from the Federal government a promise to make most of the new housing units that had to be con¬ structed of a temporary nature so that they could be removed as soon as the war emergency had passed. This time, however, the emergency did not pass, and, although the war ended, the boom continued. In 1945, of course, Norfolk could by no means be certain of the fabulous future lying before it, and there was a brief debate between those who favored holding back and those who wanted to push forward. This was settled by the hard-fought municipal election of 1946, when a progressive slate, headed by Pretlow Darden, won control of City Hall. With Darden as mayor, the city launched a program of planned expansion, which brought so much complaint from conservative critics that Darden and his mates refused to run for a second term in 1950. Nevertheless, their program by that time had so demonstrated its success that the new administra¬ tion under Mayor W. Fred Duckworth continued to display the same progressive attitude. One of the most hotly argued issues stirred up by the Darden regime was the question of the annexation of land for planned development by the city. The City Planning Commission, given a full-time staff, headed by Donald R. Locke, in 1946 set to work to determine the need for more territory. Its land-use survey, issued in Thinking Big 363 August, 1948, set forth the need for action. Only 17 per cent of the land inside the city limits was still undeveloped, the report dis¬ closed, as compared with twice that in thirty-nine other cities of com¬ parable size. Putting the figures another way, Norfolk was already overcrowded, with only 5.17 acres for each hundred persons, while forty-eight cities in the same population group had 6.71 acres per hundred. The City Council promptly called in Dr. and Mrs. Thomas H. Reed, well-known annexation experts, to make recom¬ mendations on what should be done to provide more living room. The proposal made by the Reeds was breath-taking in its scope. They suggested that Norfolk should more than double its area by annexing the Tanner’s Creek district of Norfolk County and some 25 square miles east of that in Princess Anne County, in addition to 11.9 square miles of the Washington district of Norfolk County, on the south side of the Eastern Branch, as a site for future industrial development. Although much of this territory was still open country¬ side, the Reeds recommended that it be annexed before it became urbanized so that its development could take place under orderly city planning. Another important reason was that Virginia annexation laws made it much cheaper for the city to acquire rural areas chan sections already thickly populated. While admitting that the city would have to spend millions more than it would receive in taxes for some years in order to annex the proposed areas, the Reeds pointed out that the longer Norfolk waited, the more expensive annexation would become. 1 To no one’s surprise, the proposal made by the Reeds touched off a vigorous debate. The officials of the counties involved naturally op¬ posed the program, since under Virginia law the counties would lose all tax revenues from the area lost to the city. South Norfolk, fearful of being swallowed up by its bigger neighbor, prepared to annex the Washington district for itself. Residents of the Tanner’s Creek district organized a Council of Civic Leagues to fight against annexation and the higher taxes it would bring them. Inside Norfolk itself the con¬ servative-minded looked critically at a project which would admit¬ tedly cost the city millions of dollars. Why should Norfolk spend so nuch money on annexation, they asked, when the funds were badly needed for improvements inside the existing city limits? Undeterred by the opposition, the City Council in 1949 adopted m ordinance providing for the annexation of parts of both Norfolk 1 The Norfolk Story, 1948, p. 9. Norfolk: Historic Southern Port B64 and Princess Anne counties, only to run into a legal obstacle. The State Supreme Court ruled that Norfolk could proceed against only one county at a time, forcing the city to start over again with a suit aimed at the Tanner’s Creek district of Norfolk County. This area would not provide the sought-for room for expansion, since it was already thoroughly urbanized, but under Virginia law it had to be taken before the city could reach out into Princess Anne County. The legal battle was finally settled on May 25, 1954, when the courts awarded the Tanner’s Creek district to the city on condition that it pay Norfolk County some eight million dollars in compensation and spend nearly two million more on improvements in the annexed area within the next five years. 2 Since the residents of Tanner’s Creek district had been fighting annexation for six years, the city decided to win over these reluctant annexees by embarking on a good-will program which received na¬ tional recognition. Calling in the newly organized Public Relations Institute to help, the city formulated a plan to convince its new residents of the value of annexation. Speeches by city officials at public meetings helped to break down the hostility. Soon the Council of Civic Leagues itself had surrendered and agreed to help the city in its campaign of education. A semimonthly newspaper, entitled Resi¬ dents of Tomorrow, was distributed by the city to explain what annex¬ ation would mean in both higher t ixes and better services, with the result that by the time Tanner’s Creek district legally became a part of the city on January 1, 1955, opposition had almost disappeared. 3 Encouraged by this success, the City Council decided to take the next step in the expansion program by annexing thirty-three square miles of Princess Anne County, going beyond the bounds suggested by the Reeds in 1948 to take in almost all the Kempsville district. 4 Once again opposition appeared, in spite of a unanimous vote by the City Council, and the matter w'as settled by a referendum on Feb¬ ruary 7, 1956, with the voters approving by a majority of nearly two to one.5 The annexation court, however, proved less friendly to the project and ruled that Norfolk could have only the 13.5 square miles of the territory which were already developed. Although the city argued that this would leave it with a smaller percentage of un- 2 The Norfolk Story, 1954, p. 3; Norfolk (Official Publication of the Norfolk Chamber of Commerce) , Jan., 1959, p. 8. 3 American City, LXX (November, 1955), 126-127. 4 The Norfolk Story, 1955, [p. 8], 5 New York Times, Feb. 8, 1956. Thinking Big 365 developed land than it already had, an appeal to the State Supreme Court failed to win any further concessions. When the final decree was rendered, Norfolk prepared to pay three million dollars in com¬ pensation to Princess Anne County and set about a new campaign of education in the annexed area. This time the task was easier, since there was less opposition; in fact, many of the new Norfolkians wel¬ comed the promised improvements, even though they also meant higher taxes. 6 On January 1, 1959, the annexation went into effect, and Norfolk reached an estimated population of 300,000, making it the eighth largest city in the South and the thirty-eighth in the nation. 7 As the 1960’s dawned, prospects appeared bright for a new era in which Norfolk could abandon its protracted and expensive annexa¬ tion suits and have instead the friendly co-operation of its sister communities in building a Greater Norfolk. The idea of a metropoli¬ tan government, embracing the four cities and the two counties on the south side of Hampton Roads, had been proposed as early as 1953 by Banker John S. Alfriend, and the continued growth in the area during the 1950’s had made the plan seem more and more de¬ sirable. Political considerations, however, precluded any discussion of :he scheme until political conditions were drastically revised during the i960 session of the General Assembly. In that session the senators from Norfolk and Princess Anne coun¬ ties joined in pushing an anti-annexation bill aimed at Norfolk, and :he city replied by failing to approve the extension of city water service to several new developments in Princess Anne County. The defeat of the anti-annexation act in the legislature was of great significance, since it was part of an over-all pattern which indicated hat the “city boys” had overthrown the traditional dominance of the ‘country boys” in the General Assembly; the future of the two coun- ies seemed to lie in working with the neighboring cities rather than against them. Shortly after the session ended, Sidney S. Kellam, ac¬ knowledged political leader of Princess Anne County, appeared be- ore the Norfolk City Council to propose a study of a metropolitan government for the southern shores of Hampton Roads. The Council willingly accepted his terms of a five-year moratorium on annexations and the extension of water service to the new real-estate develop- nents. The new metropolitan government was still many years in 6 Virginian-Pilot, Jan. 3, 4, 1959. 7 Ibid., Jan. 1, 1959. 366 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port the future, but prospects appeared excellent that by 1980 there would be a Greater Norfolk with a population of more than a million on the south side of Hampton Roads. 8 One factor promoting greater co-operation in the Hampton Roads communities was the closer physical ties that bound them together. From the time the town was first laid out, Norfolkians had been required to cross water to go anywhere. In the seventeenth century, when waterways were the most convenient transportation routes, that had been an advantage, but by the twentieth century the surround¬ ing water had become a barrier, cutting off Norfolk from the rest ol the state. Not until the late 1930’s did it become possible to reach the city from the west without paying toll. Even then the toll-free high¬ way was so roundabout that most motorists preferred the inconven¬ ience and expense of the Portsmouth-Norfolk ferries. Although no bridge between Norfolk and Portsmouth was practi cable because of the maritime importance of the Elizabeth Rivei channel, a tunnel under the river was talked about for years, and in 1942 the General Assembly created an Elizabeth River Tunnel Com¬ mission to carry out the project. As soon as the war was over, the com¬ mission set to work with funds borrowed from the Norfolk Cit) Council. An engineering report was completed early in 1947, and tw'o years later the contracts were let. On May 23, 1952, the tunnel under the Elizabeth River was opened for use, and the ferries, which had been operating for more than two centuries, at last went out ol service. A new Berkley bridge, linking the tunnel with downtown Norfolk, was completed at the same time, and the old bridge was torn down. 9 The ease of communication through the new tunnel increased traffic so rapidly that the revenue predicted for 1970 was almosl reached in 1959. At times, in fact, cars jammed the underground highway almost bumper to bumper, and demand arose for anothei tunnel. Engineers picked out a route for the second tunnel from Pinner’s Point in Portsmouth to the foot of Hampton Boulevard and declared that it was economically practicable. A successful bond issue in February, i960, assured the construction of the new tunnel, with its official opening date scheduled for the first day of 1963. 10 Meanwhile another tunnel dream had been turned into reality s Ibid., April 13, 14, i960. 9 Marv in W. Lee, “The Norfolk-Portsmouth Bridge Tunnel,” Virginia Municipal Review, XXIX (June, 1952), 105-108. 10 Virginian-Pilot, Feb. 13, 26, i960. Thinking Big 367 with the completion of an underwater passage across Hampton Roads. In 1954 the Virginia Department of Highways undertook the instruction of a combination bridge-tunnel to span the three miles of water between Willoughby Spit and Old Point Comfort. This $60,- 300,000 project involved the construction of the longest trench-type ;unnel in the world, 6,860 feet in length, with both ends in the middle of Hampton Roads; this was made possible by the creation of ;wo artificial islands to bring the ends of the tunnel up to the level of ;he connecting bridges. 11 When the new system was opened on No¬ vember 1, 1957, it became possible to cross Hampton Roads in five minutes instead of the half hour or more required for the old ferries, md the city provided easier access to downtown Norfolk by extending :he new throughway. Tidewater Drive, all the way from the new Berkley bridge to Ocean View. Although the toll which was to be collected until the tunnel was paid for still constituted a significant barrier, the opposite sides of Hampton Roads were being drawn closer together. The new tunnel had been open only a year when the need for a second tube by 1975 was announced. 12 As the 1960’s seemed destined to unite the southside cities and counties, perhaps the 1970’s would be the decade which would mould both sides of Hampton Roads into a single harmonious community. The success of the new tunnels led to serious plans for another tunnel so large in scope that it had seemed as fanciful as a trip to the moon a few years earlier. The Chesapeake Bay Ferry Commission, ([created in 1954 to restore ferry service between the Eastern Shore md Old Point Comfort, hired a firm of experts to report on the possibility of a bridge-tunnel crossing the mouth of the Chesapeake. (Finding that sufficient revenue could be expected to cover the cost of the project, the engineers recommended a series of bridges with tunnels under the two ship channels at an estimated cost of $144,- 000,000, a proposal approved by the Army Engineers in 1958. Plans were at once made for selling bonds to finance the construction, and the bond issue was successfully floated in the summer of i960. By the Allowing October the contractors were already at work. ! Fundamentally, the fate of the Chesapeake Bay Tunnel, and, in- Ineed, of all the other projects in the area, rested on the assumption ;hat Norfolk would remain prosperous. That prosperity still de- oended, as it had for decades, on the Navy, and the Navy’s operations 11 Norfolk, July, 1957, pp. 9-19. 12 Virginian-Pilot, Nov. 10, 1958. 368 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port in turn depended on the vagaries of international relations and th progress of military technology, which had already made the battle ship as obsolete as the armored knight. Although the defense require ments of the cold war had kept the level of naval activities high a Norfolk, the Navy by 1960 was beginning to disperse its vessels t other bases to make them less vulnerable to H-bomb annihilatior While Norfolk had no desire to lose the Navy—relations with th sailors, in fact, both collectively and individually, were better that they had ever been—the city was devoting a great deal of energy t broadening its economic base in order to provide greater stability The most obvious source of new income for the city was through increasing civilian use of the splendid natural port of Hamptoi Roads, and for this purpose the Norfolk Port Authority was estaf lished by the city in 1948. Although Hampton Roads consistently le< all North Atlantic ports in export tonnage, most of this tonnage wa in coal and other bulk-loaded products, which brought relativel little revenue to the port; the port was low in either exports or in ports of the more profitable general cargo. The new city authorit devoted itself especially to building up general cargo by seeking wa) in which shippers could profit by using Norfolk’s port. Its primar job was to sell shippers on the advantages of Norfolk and, inc dentally, to sell Norfolk on the advantages of shipping—in the word of its slogan, to “bring the world to Norfolk, and bring Norfolk t the world.” It advertised Norfolk at home and abroad, published monthly magazine, World Trade, and solicited trade from individus shippers. The Norfolk Port Authority proved so valuable that it soon foun itself acquiring new functions by a logical extension of the theory o which it was based. Since air travel was closely connected with con merce, it took over the operation of the Municipal Airport in 195c along with the task of improving air service to the city. When th removal of Broad Creek Village made available 468 acres of land fc industrial expansion, the city turned over to the Port Authority th responsibility for developing the site with new plants to increase th port’s commerce. The first big project located there was a ne^ $5,000,000 warehouse for Colonial Stores, opened early in 1960. Th authority also brought in a new company, the General Mower Coi poration, by constructing the necessary factory building on the sit and leasing it to the Buffalo firm. 13 13 Ibid., Dec. 13, 1959. Thinking Big 369 Norfolk’s planned prosperity also received some help from the state, which in 1952 created the Virginia State Ports Authority. At first the state agency, like the city authority, concentrated on pro¬ moting the interests of the Hampton Roads ports, but an engineering survey convinced it that the facilities for handling general cargo would have to be improved in order to increase the ports’ business. The engineers reported that there were fourteen general cargo terminals in the three Hampton Roads cities, but that most of the jpivilian business was handled by four of them, and only one of these met modern standards. All of these piers belonged to the railroads, which operated them at a loss and could not afford to build new facilities, which would serve highway trucks at the railroads’ expense. It was therefore proposed that the state authority should purchase ind improve these piers and then lease them back to the railroads to operate them. 14 Although the plan was introduced too late for full ;onsideration by the 1958 General Assembly, the necessary legislation was enacted during the i960 session. Another example of co-operation for progress was the establish¬ ment in 1954 of the Tidewater Virginia Development Council under jihe leadership of Norfolk Mayor W. Fred Duckworth. It was a corporation supported by contributions from private enterprise and from all the local governments from Isle of Wight County to the Eastern Shore. By 1956 a full-time director, Clarence S. Osthagen, pad been obtained, and a year later a full staff was at work promoting die interests of the area. 15 Not all the changes in the Norfolk scene in the decade of the fifties i|:ould be considered progress. Romanticists at the beginning of the fiecade shed nostalgic tears for the passing of the Chesapeake and [Ohio boat, which had ferried passengers from Newport News to the foot of Brooke Avenue for years but finally gave place to a prosaic jpus. Railroad bugs felt even sadder at the decade’s end when the (Norfolk and Western began retiring its steam locomotives, which were among the last in the country. Another railroad passed out of t existence at the end of 1959 when the Virginian merged with the . Norfolk and Western in an economy measure. A year earlier another Economy measure had caused the departure of the headquarters of y he Seaboard Air Line from Norfolk to Richmond, id On the biggest change of the decade there was general agreement. 14 Richmond Times-Dispatch, Feb. 17, 1958. 15 Norfolk, Oct., 1956, pp. 6-8. gyo Norfolk: Historic Southern Port That was the incredible face-lifting carried out by the Norfolk Re¬ development and Housing Authority, involving the demolition of buildings on 465 acres of downtown land, an area more than nine times the size of the original town laid out by John Ferebee. The idea of ridding Norfolk of its slums had been proposed as far back as 1 937 » when a Citizens’ Committee on Crime had pointed out the high social cost of slums and recommended a program to eliminate them, and in July, 1940, the Norfolk Housing Authority had been created for that purpose. 16 The wartime emergency, however, had forced the authority to concentrate on defense housing, and it was not until the war was over that it was able to return to its original goal. By that time new legislation had broadened its purpose beyond merely providing new homes for the poor to building a better city for all and had given it a new name, the Norfolk Redevelopment and Housing Authority. The City Council showed its support of the new program in December, 1948, by appropriating $25,000 to the authority for plan¬ ning a program of slum clearance. At the same time study was begun on a new minimum housing code to make slums illegal, as well as on a new zoning code to prevent future deterioration of property values. Thus, when the Federal Housing Act of 1949 went into effect, Nor¬ folk was the first city in the country to complete its application for a loan and grant under the national redevelopment program. For this Lawrence M. Cox, executive director of the authority, was congratu¬ lated by N. S. Keith, head of the Federal agency. In March, 1950, Norfolk signed a contract for Federal assistance to provide three thousand new homes, and six months later came the necessary grant for acquiring property and demolishing dilapidated buildings. 17 The area selected for the first project was bounded on the south by Brambleton Avenue, on the north by Broad Creek Road, on the east by Lincoln Street, and on the west by Monticello Avenue. It was a section of tumble-down, rat-infested houses, many without heat or sanitary provisions. It yielded little to the city in taxes, but it cost the city a great deal of money to maintain. The ramshackle wooden houses were a constant threat of fire; the hordes of rats made the area a breeding place of disease; the prevalence of crime demanded special policing. “There is no use fighting illness and distress with 16 Schlegel, Conscripted City, pp. 14-16. iz American City, LXIV (May, 1949). 175; The Norfolk Story, 1948, pp. 6, 7, 16, 17; 1 949 ' 1 95 °> [PP- 10 -n]- Thinking Big 371 health education, hospitals, public health nurses, clinics, and the like, if we permit the fever nests of bad housing to generate new foci of infection and spread these diseases more rapidly than we can deal with them,” pointed out John M. Huff, Director of Public Health. “In a great many of our dwelling houses right here in Norfolk, we have a perfect set-up for a typhoid epidemic, a dysentery epidemic and perhaps others.” 18 The first step was to provide new homes for the more than two thousand families huddled on the eighty-acre tract. For this purpose substantial two-story brick buildings were erected elsewhere, at Chesterfield Heights, Campostella, and Ballentine Boulevard, as well as at Roberts Park, one of the authority’s wartime projects. The tenants in the area scheduled for redevelopment were relocated so rapidly that demolition could begin on December 11, 1951. 19 Two years later the first families had started to move in, and early in 1954 the 752-unit development, named Young Park in honor of one of Norfolk’s outstanding Negro citizens, was completed. Even before Young Park was finished, the authority had embarked on the second phase of its program by clearing a new forty-seven-acre site in the Holt Street area, north of City Hall Avenue. By the end of 1955, 626 more low-rent apartments had been erected there, and Tidewater Park, as the new development was called, was completely occupied. The third phase of the program, the construction of another 314 units north of Olney Road, ended what had by now become merely Project Number One. 20 The net cost of this first phase was $5,699,702, of which only .$1,899,901 came out of city taxes, the rest being contributions from the Federal government. For that sum a total of 190 acres of downtown Norfolk had been cleared of slums; about two-thirds of this was used for the new low-rent housing projects, along with the necessary public buildings, schools, playgrounds, fire and police stations. The au¬ thority had built 3,428 low-rent homes, in addition to 300 turned over to it by the Federal government, and was contributing over $200,000 every year from the income on these buildings to the city in lieu of ; taxes. The remaining third of the cleared land was used in part for widening streets and creating new boulevards, but most of it was set aside for resale to private enterprise for business purposes under 18 The Norfolk Story, 1948, p. 17. 19 The Norfolk Story, 1951, p. 11. 20 The Norfolk Story, 1955, [p. 6]. 372 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port controlled redevelopment. 21 As a site for new factories the authority turned over to the city the Norfolk Industrial Park, the 468-acre tract made available by the removal of Broad Creek Village, one of the demountable wartime housing projects, which lasted so long that its temporary buildings threatened to degenerate into new slums; not until 1955 were the first homes removed from the site. 22 The disappearance of Broad Creek Village was a sign of the di¬ minished need for low-rent housing, and the authority could now shift its emphasis to redevelopment as it launched Project Number Two. The 135 acres selected for the project lay in a run-down area in Atlantic City, where 64 per cent of the dwellings were substandard, according to a survey made by the authority. The 642 families living in the district were located elsewhere before the wrecking cranes arrived. Future housing in the area was to be of a more luxurious type—tall apartment buildings, located on spacious garden plots, overlooking the water; they would be constructed by private enter- ! prise under controlled redevelopment. Project Number Two w T ould also provide land for a new water-front expressway, but its central feature was the creation of a new Medical Arts Center around the Norfolk General Hospital. 23 The first step was the expansion of the hospital itself under the direction of the hospital board. The original idea of adding a small building to take care of the institution’s most pressing needs, as proposed in April, 1956, expanded so rapidly that by the time con¬ struction was finished late in 1958 the addition had become a $5,500,- 000, nine-story structure with every modern improvement, and the hospital’s capacity had grown from 217 to 475 beds. 24 Meanwhile, work had already been started on a Municipal Public Health Center near-by, intended to bring together the city Health Department, the various public clinics, and the public health agencies associated with the United Fund. Other buildings included in the Medical Arts Center were the King’s Daughters’ Hospital for children and a pri¬ vately sponsored Medical Office Tower. Altogether, the center repre¬ sented a new investment of $10,000,000, only a small part of which was furnished by Norfolk taxpayers, the rest coming from Federal grants, private contributions, and private enterprise. 25 21 Norfolk, March, 1959, p. 18. 22 The Norfolk Story, 1955, [p. 6], 23 Norfolk, March, 1959, p. 18. 24 Virginian-Pilot, Sept. 14, 1958. 23 Norfolk, Sept. 1959, p. 8. 873 Thinking Big Work in the Atlantic City area had scarcely begun before the authority embarked on Project Number Three, the most ambitious program it had yet conceived. It called for a complete remodeling of 14a acres in the heart of downtown Norfolk, tearing down the honky- tonks and flophouses of East Main Street as well as all the shabby buildings north of it, all the way to Brambleton Avenue. The narrow old streets of earlier centuries were to give way to broad boulevards, and new tall office buildings would leave plenty of space for light and for parking. This wide-sweeping plan had had its beginnings ironically in the need for a new city jail. When that need led to the idea of a new Civic Center, City Manager Thomas F. Maxwell in April, 1956, sug¬ gested to the City Council the desirability of an “over-all compre¬ hensive master plan of the central business district.” As a result, the council retained Charles K. Agle of Baltimore, who submitted a plan which was approved in 1956. The Redevelopment and Housing Authority then worked out the details of the program and submitted it for public approval in the spring of 1958. The estimated cost of the entire project was some $24,000,000, two-thirds of which would be covered by Federal grants. There was inevitably some criticism of the plan, especially from the property-owners affected. The businessmen of East Main Street feared that their enterprises would be destroyed, until they were promised help in relocation. Concern was expressed for the six hun¬ dred families to be evacuated, since no housing was to be provided in the cleared area, but the authority promised to find new homes for them. Loss of tax revenue was feared, as only twenty acres were to be allocated to taxpaying buildings, and more than three-fourths of the entire area was to remain unbuilt upon. On the whole, however, there was widespread approval of the project. The board of directors of the Norfolk Chamber of Commerce endorsed it and called on citizens and the City Council to “proceed to its fulfillment at an early date.” The board pointed out that it would keep Norfolk “abreast of the nation’s leading cities, which are at present making similar redevelopment plans.” Mayor W. Fred Duck¬ worth foresaw the city developing rapidly into the hub of a metro¬ politan area of a million people, partly through the foresight and energy of the Redevelopment and Housing Authority. Albert M. Cole, Administrator of the National Housing and Home Finance Agency, said that Norfolk had been “blessed with three advantages. 374 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port These are: imaginative citizens, imaginative officials, and an imagina¬ tive press.” Richard L. Steiner, Commissioner of the Urban Renewal Administration, thought the Norfolk authority far in the lead of most other communities engaged in urban renewal. “Thanks to the example being set here,” he said, “the entire national effort is being quickened.” A typical reaction of the ordinary citizen was expressed by one housewife, who wrote: “I think I can speak for hundreds of other Norfolk women. In recent years I have become so disgusted with the terrible parking and traffic situation in our downtown area that I simply don’t go there to shop any more. On many occasions I simply do not buy at all rather than go downtown. If the people of Norfolk don’t wake up and realize that the Norfolk Redevelopment and Housing Authority’s Project Number 3 would clear up this mess, downtown Norfolk is going to dry up and die on the vine, because more and more people are coming to my way of thinking every day.” As a result of this general support, downtown redevelopment got under way at once. Demolition to clear the site for the new Civic Center began in July, 1958, with the destruction of the old National Hotel on East Main Street. As hundreds of citizens and a few visitors from other cities seated on temporary stands looked on, two giant cranes with a lift capacity of thirty-five tons each ripped into the side walls. Within seconds the walls came tumbling down, and this three- story building was reduced to rubble. It was symbolic of the passing of the old downtown Norfolk and the advent of the new. As downtown redevelopment progressed gradually towards its goal of completion by 1963, the design of the new Norfolk became steadily more apparent. One by one the tattoo parlors and neon-lighted tap- rooms of East Main Street disappeared; even the venerable Gaiety, which had provided entertainment in the flesh for a whole generation of sailors, yielded to the redevelopers. East Main Street itself was to be closed to vehicles for the first time since John Ferebee laid it out in 1681, so that it could become a shady pedestrian mall leading to the new Civic Center, just west of the Berkley bridge. The first unit of the $15,000,000 center, the Public Safety Building, got under way in 1959. Farther north in the redevelopment area, across the street from the old courthouse, was to be located the new public library building. Faith in the bright future envisioned for the city of Norfolk by the redevelopers was shown by private investors who put their capital into the project. Most prominent evidence of this faith was the new Thinking Big 375 $5,500,000 hotel, rising in i960 on the “Golden Triangle,” between Monticello Avenue and Bank Street, an area cleared during Project Number One and set aside by the authority for a new hotel. A $3,000,000 motel and apartment building was made possible in Ocean View when the City Council sold a municipally owned tract there. 26 On the edge of the redevelopment area private capital put up the $4,000,000 Rennert Building, occupying the site of the old city market on Monticello Avenue; in addition to stores and offices it included a ramp garage providing downtown parking for 650 cars. The structure was prepared to carry a central office tower, rising as high as seventeen stories, if further expansion proved desirable. Pri¬ vate enterprise was also engaged in rehabilitating run-down housing outside the cleared areas to bring it up to the standards set by the minimum housing code of 1951. As 1959 ended, the news of the Norfolk enlightenment was attract¬ ing national attention. A well-known newsmagazine reported, under the title “Vision in Virginia”: “The port city of Norfolk, Va., has been called many things in its frowsy past, most of them by sailors, and most of them unprintable. In the coming decade, even the sailors are certain to pipe a happier tune. “By 1970, if not long before, the new Norfolk will throw an old salt off his bearings. Instead of the dingy slums and flophouses a sailor might remember, he will find a gleaming modern city of new homes and apartment houses, handsome public buildings, attractive shops, and broad new streets and thoroughfares.” 27 Another tribute Norfolk could appreciate came when its veteran rival, Richmond, sent a delegation to learn about urban renewal. The visitors, unprepared for such startling change, could scarcely believe their eyes. One editor summed up their feelings: “One may read of Norfolk’s urban renewal projects and get a rough idea of the amazing size of the city’s face-lifting undertaking. But the gigantic scope of this almost fantastic program is not fully realized until one visits that city and rides past block and block of rubble where once stood, for the most part, slum dwellings and shabby commercial buildings. . . . “Richmonders who got a first-hand look at this massive renewal undertaking Wednesday were flabbergasted by the magnitude of Nor¬ folk’s physical transformation. . . . 26 Virginian-Pilot, Oct. 21, 30, 1959. 27 Newsweek, Dec. 14, 1959, p. 46. 376 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port “As amazing as all this is, some of the Richmonders were almost equally startled at the nigh-incredible word that this immense pro¬ gram has the unanimous backing of City Council and of virtually all the business community. . . . “They “think big’’ in Virginia’s biggest city.” 28 Early in 1960 Norfolk received the most significant recognition of its achievements. On February 4 Mayor Duckworth raised a blue-and- white flag, bearing the legend “All-America City,” over City Hall. Norfolk was one of eleven cities in the United States to receive the award, granted jointly by Look Magazine and the National Munici¬ pal League. At a huge award luncheon held in the City Arena, Look’s publisher, Vernon C. Myers, told the audience: “Out of a city whose problems had multiplied almost to the point of disaster, a city plagued by organized vice and disease, branded for its slums by housing authorities, choked by a population boom—out of this dismal picture of a community, Norfolk citizens are creating a city with a bright new character.” In reply, Mayor Duckworth said that the award “will only be the starting point for making Norfolk a better place to live.” 29 28 Richmond Times-Dispatch, Oct. 16, 1959. 29 Virginian-Pilot, Feb. 5, March 4, i960. CHAPTER NINETEEN Not By Bread Alone I he culture of a city may be expressed in various ways. One city may boast of its beautiful parks, another of its lovely build¬ ings, another of its libraries, still another of a fine orchestra, or a museum of natural history, or its distinguished painters or writers or sculptors. Early Norfolk could boast of its public buildings—St. Paul’s Church, the dignified old Courthouse, the Norfolk Academy, the Custom House. It could also boast of its famous poet. Father Ryan, and its famous sculptor, Alexander Galt. But it was only recently that public-spirited citizens and the city government awoke to the fact that it was their joint responsibility to give Norfolk a widened cultural life, to open new cultural opportunities to the citizens. A major move in this direction was made in 1905, when the Leache- Wood Alumnae Association set itself the task of working toward an art museum for Norfolk. Twelve years later, when this group became the Norfolk Society of Arts, the same purpose was reiterated and emphasized, and they were greatly encouraged when the City Council granted them a site in the area known as Lee Park, facing the Hague. Meanwhile the society’s art collection, which was being kept in the Norfolk Public Library, was offered a temporary home of its own by a public-spirited citizen, Mrs. William Sloane. Mrs. Sloane lent the society a site on Mowbray Arch and financed the building herself. During World War I the society entertained servicemen there with dances, teas, and open house every night, members of the society acting as hostesses. After the war exhibits were held and the lecture course was resumed; there were poetry readings reminiscent of those given by Edgar Allan Poe a century earlier. In 1920 the society appointed a music committee, which arranged 378 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port many fine concerts, some by local artists, some by musicians from other cities. The Sunday concerts of the Wertz String Quartet of Baltimore in 1922 and for several seasons afterwards were especially enjoyed. It was in 1920 also that Mrs. Richard Tucker organized a dramatic club, which became a dramatic committee of the Norfolk Society of Arts. Seven years later, after presenting a number of suc¬ cessful plays, the committee developed into an independent body, the Little Theater. The Poets’ Corner, with Mrs. J. Jett McCormick as the first chair¬ man, was organized in December, 1922. The weekly readings from the poetry and dramatic prose of the times attracted a large and interested group. Three years later permission was given to a number of girls who had formed what they called “The Art Corner” to hold their meetings in the Arts Building and to have exhibitions there. This group later expanded to include artists from the entire area under the name “Tidewater Artists.” The Society of Arts in the meantime renewed its efforts to find a permanent home to replace the temporary quarters on Mowbray Arch. In 1923 Mrs. Sloane took up the matter with the City Council, reminding it of the ordinance of 1917 authorizing a museum in Lee Park; the council confirmed the grant and fixed on a very desirable site facing the Hague. In July, 1924, the city agreed to appropriate $12,500 a year for the maintenance and operation of the museum, if the Society of Arts provided a building to cost not less than $125,000. The title to the building was to be vested in the city, but its custody in the society. Eighteen months later a board of trustees for the pro¬ posed museum was appointed, in part by the city and in part by the society. The first step toward raising the necessary funds was taken in 1923, when the society decided to establish a building fund and voted to set aside a certain amount annually for that purpose. This was a slow process, however, and, in 1926, following the appointment of the board of trustees, Mrs. William Sloane became head of a com¬ mittee to raise money to bring the museum into existence. The out¬ look was discouraging. There was no money, no buildings, no fine art or historical collection. But Mrs. Sloane was not discouraged. “If you want something hard enough, I think you get it,” she said. “I think the people here are going to want it hard enough to get it.” Some months later, when it was known that twenty-three persons or Not By Bread A lone 379 couples had subscribed $104,000, this prediction seemed fully sus¬ tained. 1 Another seven years were to pass, however, before the building came into existence. The most serious difficulty was caused by the panic of 1929, which made it difficult for some of the subscribers to fulfil their pledges. At times construction came to a halt for lack of cash, and Mrs. Sloane had to go out and solicit additional funds before the work could continue. 2 The building which was completed in 1933 was only part of the over-all project. The plans called for three units, which could be built separately, in Florentine Renaissance style, of tooled stone, concrete, and steel. The first unit, or south wing, contained the ad¬ ministrative quarters, three galleries, and the main stairway. The fact that the new Museum of Arts and Sciences was soon drawing an annual attendance of forty thousand inspired the men and women who had worked so long for it to turn their efforts to completion of the building. Their proposal that the city apply to the Federal Public Works Administration for a grant for that purpose, to be matched by the city, met strong opposition, however. One councilman said that he was not convinced that the museum reached the masses of Norfolk citizens. To this the editor of the Virginian-Pilot retorted that the way to spread the benefits of the museum was to provide it with the space and equipment needed to make it a fine arts addition to the city’s system of public education. 3 After three years of un¬ certainty and the election of a new Council, the friends of the museum won. The Federal grant was accepted and matched by a loan, and work was begun on the second unit. Opened in October, 1939, this wing contained fifteen galleries, the library, the assembly hall, and the hall of statuary. The museum has many notable collections—of rare books, plaster casts, oil paintings, carved ivories, statuary, old coins, and Chinese porcelain dating back to 206 b.c. Especially instructive are the hall of primitive peoples and the hall of natural history. A striking addition, placed at the entrance, is “The Torchbearers,” a sculpture in alumi¬ num, showing a falling runner passing the torch on to a man on horse- 1 Norfolk Museum Bulletin, Vol. V, No. 3. The large donors were Fergus Reid, William Sloane, Mrs. Sloane, the three brothers, C. Wiley Grandy, W. B. S. Grandy, and Dr. C. R. Grandy, and Miss Caroline Selden. 2 Norfolk Museum Bulletin, Vol. VII, No. 4. 3 Virginian-Pilot, Aug. 1, 1938. 380 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port back, as a poetic concept of the progress of man. The museum has been used for numerous exhibitions, Sunday afternoon concerts, lectures on art and literature, and poetry readings. 4 J. D. Hatch, director of the museum until i960, believed that it should encourage new art as well as preserve and explain the art of past ages. The museum programs were so arranged that art students might regard the masterpieces of other ages as inspiration for their own efforts. It is for this reason, also, that artists are trained by the museum in a series of art and music courses. 5 The Museum of Arts and Sciences took a major step to pre¬ serve Norfolk’s architectural heritage when it acquired the famous old Myers House and had it restored. The home was refurnished and opened to the public. Of special interest is the kitchen, with its brick floors, its ladder-back chairs, and its old cooking utensils. Another major service to Norfolk was the commissioning of Kenneth Harris, a well-known local water-colorist, to paint a series of Norfolk scenes as a record of the city of 1950. 6 Another important cultural institution which appeared in the years following the First World War was the first symphony orchestra between Baltimore and Atlanta. In August, 1920, a few devoted music lovers managed to assemble fifty willing and able musicians, and, after a winter of rehearsals, they put on their first concert on April 12, 1921, under the direction of Walter Edward Howe, a local church organist. One of the leading spirits in founding the Civic Symphony Orches¬ tra, as the group was then known, was Mrs. Marian Carpenter Miles, who had been trained for a concert career by some of the best teach¬ ers in America and Germany. So great was her love of music that she expected her guests to bring along to her home whatever instruments they played, no matter how badly, and, whatever the ensemble turned out to be, she would produce a musical score to fit it. Until age forced her retirement, Mrs. Miles served as concertmaster for the symphony and wrote all of the program notes. Not less important in founding the orchestra was Dr. R. C. White- head. His profession was medicine, his passion music. He played a small violoncello, which he referred to as his “late American cigar- box” and lent generously to anyone who wanted to learn how to play it. When viola players were needed, Dr. Whitehead laid aside his 4 Civic Affairs, 1940, pp. 126-128. 5 The Norfolk Story, 1951. 6 Virginian-Pilot, Jan. 20, 1931; The Norfolk Story, 1951, pp. 14-15. Not By Bread Alone 381 cello and took up the viola instead; later he shifted from strings to woodwinds when there was no one else to play the bassoon. As one of the younger members of the orchestra recalled him, “He was business manager, librarian, and janitor for that young orchestra— and he loved every minute of it.” 7 In those early days the symphony led a precarious financial exist¬ ence. At first Whitehead and the dignified J. A. P. Mottu stood out¬ side the door with collection plates, soliciting a silver offering; later a fifty-cent admission fee became standard. The inevitable deficits were made up by a host of generous music lovers. Conductors departed with alarming frequency, although Frank L. Delpino, a former Navy bandmaster, lasted through most of the 1930’s. It was in the years following the Second World War that the Norfolk Symphony Orchestra, playing in the war-born Municipal Auditorium, reached musical maturity. After the tragic death at thirty-eight of its new conductor, Henry Cowles Whitehead, son of “Doctor Bob,” the orchestra found his successor in Edgar Schenkman. A graduate of the Juilliard School of Music, Schenkman had had years of experience in conducting both opera and orchestra before coming to Norfolk in 1948. He also took over the direction of the Norfolk Civic Chorus, which merged its organization with the sym¬ phony in 1949 and thus made possible a series of memorable joint concerts. Under Schenkman’s leadership the orchestra was converted from a group of amateurs, giving only three concerts a year, to a semi-professional organization of seventy-five, giving annually seven subscription concerts, three children’s concerts, and a special per¬ formance for Navy personnel. In addition to the children’s concerts, it played an important part in the musical education of the young people of Norfolk by sponsoring a youth orchestra through its Women’s Auxiliary. 8 The performance of the orchestra soon won it wide recognition. In 1949 it was invited to Charlottesville to participate in the Virginia Music Festival, and the following year Schenkman was made musical director of the festival. A few years later, when Richmond at last decided to have an orchestra of its own, it borrowed Schenkman to serve as its first conductor. In addition to its concerts at the University of Virginia, the orchestra also played at Mary Washington and at 7 S. H. Ferebee, “Finger in the Pie, A History of Norfolk's Symphony,” Norfolk, Oct., 1954, p. 6. 8 Ibid. 382 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port Longwood College. Its most important out-of-town performance was at the opening of the Jamestown Festival in 1957. In Phi Beta Kappa Hall at Williamsburg the orchestra and chorus gave the world pre¬ miere of Randall Thompson’s musical setting of Michael Drayton’s “Ode to the Virginian Voyage.” Paul Hume, nationally known music critic, said of the performance: “Conductor Schenkman has a large amount of real genius in his handling of both orchestra and chorus.” 9 At the final concert of Schenkman’s tenth season as conductor the orchestra showed its appreciation by presenting him with an en¬ grossed award. Of even greater significance w'as the audience’s reac¬ tion to the performance of Bach’s “Passion according to St. John” on this occasion. A Richmond music critic reported that “the musi¬ cians’ devoted performance and the audience’s standing tribute bore out the deep love and respect their musical leader commands. The memorable discipline and the moving expressiveness of the perform¬ ance seem to summarize Schenkman’s contribution of ten years.” 10 The musical life of Norfolk was invigorated by two new organiza¬ tions during the postwar years. One was the creation of I. E. Feldman, a former Navy bandmaster, who opened a music studio in Norfolk after the First World War. In 1946 he formed the Feldman Chamber Music Society, which gave an annual series of concerts and had won more than four hundred subscribers by 1959. 11 The other institution was the William and Mary Opera Workshop, established in 1949 by the Norfolk Division of the College. 12 The theater continued to flourish in Norfolk. In addition to the professional productions in the Municipal Auditorium, the Little Theater put on several plays every year and launched in 1959 an experimental workshop to turn out drama off the beaten track. An¬ other drama group, the Little Creek Players, was made up of mem¬ bers of the armed forces and their families. The city also helped to sponsor an outdoor drama, Paul Green’s The Confederacy, which was performed at Virginia Beach during 1958 and 1959. In the art form most popular in Virginia, Norfolk was pre-eminent, largely owing to the enterprise of Frederic Heutte, superintendent of parks and forestry, who turned Norfolk into a city of flowers. Under his guidance Lafayette Park, overlooking Lafayette River, was given new beauty. Making use of WPA labor, he attacked the salt marshes 9 Washington Post and Times-Herald, April 2, 1957. 10 Richmond Times-Dispatch, April 20, 1958. 11 Virginian-Pilot, May 17, 1954. 12 Ibid., Jan. 4, 1959. Not By Bread Alone 383 which partially surrounded the park and eliminated this dismal eye¬ sore, at the same time adding twelve fertile acres to the park. On these he planted in a single year over five thousand trees and shrubs, developed a holly garden, and increased the botanical collection by a hundred new varieties. The formal garden, with its thousand hya¬ cinths and five thousand tulips from Holland, its many lovely roses, azaleas, and camellias, attracted thousands of visitors. In 1958 Super¬ intendent Heutte even made Granby Street blossom. With contribu¬ tions from downtown merchants he was able to set up five hundred flower boxes along the street in the business area. Heutte’s greatest glory, however, was the conception and perfection of an azalea garden which rivaled the famous gardens of the South Carolina low country. A favorable setting was found near the Mu¬ nicipal Airport, amid tall pines, wax myrtle, sweet bay, dogwood, holly, and cypress. The next step was to get the Works Progress Administration to help finance the project and then to put scores of Negro women to work. Within a few months sixty acres had been cleared, rustic fences built, three miles of trail laid out, bridges thrown over little streams, six thousand azaleas and other plants put out. Although the mass of azaleas fixes the character of the garden, Japanese iris, crape myrtle, holly, camellias, and other plants make this a spot of year-round beauty. In 1947 many additional acres were cleared and planted with azaleas, thousands of rhododendrons, camellias, and daffodils, and several additional miles of trails were cut through the woods. The loblolly pines act as big brothers to the azaleas, for their needles feed the soil which nourishes the flowers. The thousands of picknickers who open their baskets at the rustic tables enjoy the light which is filtered through the trees. They give their hearty approval of the citation of Superintendent Heutte in 1950 by the League of Virginia Municipalities for work in beautifying Norfolk which perhaps will never be erased. Richmond paid its sister city the flattery of imitation in 1952 when it obtained five thousand cuttings from Norfolk to start an azalea garden of its own. The International Azalea Court in which some girl is crowned queen has become an annual event attracting thousands. In April, 1958, when Miss Patricia Jane LeMay, daughter of Air Force General Curtis LeMay, was escorted across the gold bridge over the pool to the throne, she was greeted with applause from a record crowd of four thousand. The pink gowns of the maids of honor, the 384 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port mass of azalea blossoms of the queen’s dress, and the white uniforms of the midshipmen of the Naval Academy, who formed the escort, made a colorful scene. General LeMay, after placing the crown on his daughter’s head, kissed her on both cheeks. There were addresses of welcome by Henry Clay Hofheimer II, president of the Norfolk Chamber of Commerce, and Mayor W. Fred Duckworth. The side of Norfolk’s cultural development which was most neg¬ lected was represented by its public library. The building, erected in 1903 with a Carnegie grant, had for years been entirely too small to serve the needs of the expanded city, even though part of the library’s collection was dispersed in seven branches. A survey made in 1940 revealed that the branch libraries themselves were overcrowded and understaffed, but nothing was done to improve the situation for more than ten years after the Second World War had ended. In 1956 the Friends of the Norfolk Public Library formed to mobilize public support for a new library, and two years later the impetus for action came in the offer of $100,000 from the Munro Black Fund of the Norfolk Foundation for a new building, provided it were started within three years. When a delegation from the Junior Chamber of Commerce on May 20, 1958, asked the City Council to survey Nor¬ folk’s library needs, the council agreed and requested the Public Library Board to suggest the necessary experts. 13 In August the two recommended experts, Russell Munn, of the Akron Public Library, and Keith Dorns, of the Carnegie Library of Pittsburgh, arrived in Norfolk on their first visit to the city. They were enthusiastic about everything they saw in Norfolk—except the library they had come to study. The report they submitted in Novem¬ ber declared: “With respect to library service, Norfolk is one of the most under-privileged cities in the United States. . . . based on per capita figures of books owned, books loaned, and dollars spent, Nor¬ folk has about one-third of a library system compared with other cities in its population group. We assume that she wants to correct this situation. The rest of this report is pointed in that direction.” 14 Their report presented a formidable challenge to the city. They proposed capital improvements costing more than $2,500,000 and an annual operating budget of nearly half a million dollars, a figure, they pointed out, which would be only $1.66 per capita, less than the $1.89 per capita average of cities in the same population class. The 13 Ibid., Aug. 18, 1958. 14 Ibid., Nov. si, 1958. Not By Bread A lone 385 city was to move three branch libraries to more satisfactory sites and to add three new branches to serve the sections developed in recent years. Most important was the new main library, which the experts urged should be located in the downtown area, where it would be readily accessible to shoppers. 15 Although the City Council, already deeply involved in the expen¬ sive downtown redevelopment program, could not see where the necessary millions were coming from, it authorized the library board to start to work on plans. Then the generous half-million dollar gift of Miss Bessie Kirn made it possible to begin construction in 1960. The site chosen for the modernistic building, the southwest corner of City Hall Avenue and Bank Street, would give Norfolk one of the finest main library locations in the country. City Librarian Arthur M. Kirkby said. Meanwhile, a new branch library was being constructed in Ocean View in the city-owned triangle at the head of Granby Street; in memory of the city librarian from 1917 to 1947, who died in 1959, it was named the Mary Denson Pretlow Branch Library. 16 Even if Norfolk had lagged behind in developing its library facili¬ ties, it could boast that it had created in the field of higher education two four-year degree-granting colleges, the Norfolk Division of the College of William and Mary and the Norfolk Division of Virginia State College, both of them with larger enrollments than their parent institutions. The Negro school had its beginnings in 1935, when a few Norfolk citizens arranged to have Virginia Union University in Rich¬ mond offer the first courses at the college level for Negroes. Two rooms at the Hunton Branch YMCA were the only campus the infant institution had, and enrollment was small at first. It received its first public support in 1942, when it became the Norfolk Poly¬ technic Institute and qualified for aid from the city. Two years later it was taken over by the state and placed under the administration of Virginia State College. With state support it grew rapidly and by i960 had an enrollment of eighteen hundred in modern buildings on a new campus on Corprew Avenue. 17 The white school developed from extension courses offered in Norfolk by the College of William and Mary as early as 1919. Ten years later enrollment in these classes had risen to 340, and civic groups asked that a full-time collegiate center be established in the 15 Ibid., Nov. 20, 1958. le Ibid., March 9, i960. 17 Ibid., Dec. 20, 1959. 386 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port city. 18 The Norfolk City Council and the school board took a major step in deeding to the college the old Larchmont School building. During the summer of 1930 the building was remodeled to fit it for college purposes, and scientific laboratories were constructed. A capable faculty was engaged, and additional land was purchased for future expansion. In September Norfolk Division opened with 160 students. 19 The new college grew rapidly. During its second year total enroll¬ ment mounted to 455, including 81 registered in the engineering classes sponsored by Virginia Polytechnic Institute. In response to increased demand new programs were added, among them business administration and secretarial science. Although financial aid was hard to come by in the depression years, grants from the Public Works Administration, along with bonds sold by the college, made possible the erection of a new classroom-gymnasium building and a stadium with a seating capacity of 25,000, both completed in 1936. 20 Foreman Field, as the stadium was called, was to be the scene of many exciting football contests, even though Norfolk Division itself abandoned the sport. Enrollment continued to expand, and the flood of returning veter¬ ans, seeking education under the GI Bill of Rights, filled the school to the overflowing point; in fact, from 1946 to 1948, the College of William and Mary was forced to operate a temporary institution, the St. Helena Extension, in the Berkley section of the Navy Yard. The opening of the new Academic Building in 1948, however, pro¬ vided room for the overflow, and generous state support took care of further expansion. A Science Building was added in 1955, a new and modern library in 1959, and a Fine Arts Building was completed in i960. As the number of students mounted steadily to the five thousand mark, the college prepared to stand on its own feet. The first step was permission granted by the parent institution to offer a full four- year program for the first time; the first bachelor’s degrees were granted on June 6, 1956, to a graduating class of fifteen students, a number which multiplied each year. Legislation enacted in i960 set the stage for the Norfolk Division to be accredited independently of 18 Robert C. McClelland, “Historical Notes on the College and the Community (Revised Issue) ," College of William and Mary in Norfolk General Publications Series, July, 1955, p. 1. 19 Virginian-Pilot, Jan. 1, 1931. 20 McClelland, “Historical Notes . . . p. 2. 387 Not By Bread Alone Williamsburg and authorized a new administrative organization to give it equal rank with the mother institution in the William and Mary system. Mayor Duckworth was added to the enlarged board of visitors, and the Norfolk Division began looking for a new name more appropriate to its new status. The public school system of Norfolk in i960 was also looking forward to a new era of growth and development after recovering from the severest crisis in its history. The crisis was not of Norfolk’s own making, for it originated in decisions made in Washington and Richmond, and Norfolk was faced with the impossibility of obeying conflicting orders. When the historic Supreme Court decision that legally enforced segregation in the public schools was a violation of the Fourteenth Amendment was made final in 1955, the Norfolk School Board announced its intention to abide by the laws of the land. Steps towards desegregation, however, were prohibited by Virginia’s “massive resistance” laws of 1956. Since state law required the closing of any school in which the races were mixed, the school board did its best to postpone the day of reckoning. In endeavoring to comply with a Federal court order issued during the 1956-1957 school year the board adopted an assignment plan. Under that plan 151 Negro children applied for transfer to white schools in the fall of 1958. When the school board in August, 1958, denied all these applications, certain of the Negro students took their case to court, and as a result of the proceedings before U. S. District Judge Walter E. Hoffman it was necessary for the board to report to the court that it would assign seventeen of these Negro children to six white junior and senior high schools. The board re¬ quested of Judge Hoffman a year’s delay in putting such assignments into effect, but the request was denied. Although the decision of the District Court was appealed to the Fourth Circuit Court of Appeals, the Circuit Court upheld the lower court’s decision on September 27. At six o’clock that night the school board reluctantly assigned the seventeen Negro children to the white schools beginning Monday, September 29, the date to which the opening of school had been postponed. A few minutes later Governor J. Lindsay Almond, Jr., issued a proclamation taking over the affected schools, and on Monday morning ten thousand Norfolk high school students found the school doors closed to them. 21 The closing of the high schools found the city sharply divided on 21 Virginian-Pilot, Aug. 20, Sept. 28, 1959. Norfolk: Historic Southern Port 388 the proper course to follow. On one side stood those who, opposed as they might be to integration, wanted the schools reopened as soon as possible, even on an integrated basis; on the other were those who preferred segregated private schools to public schools with any degree of integration. The staunchest supporters of public education were the school board and the school teachers, while the Defenders of State Sovereignty and Individual Liberties gave strong backing to the “massive resistance” policy. The Defenders took the lead in organizing the Tidewater Educational Foundation to set up private schools for the displaced pupils but failed to win the co-operation of the idled teachers, who regarded the Foundation as an attempt to undermine support for public education. The passive resistance of the teachers proved equal to the pressures of massive resistance. Partly as a result of private advice from many of the teachers, only one-fourth of the locked-out students enrolled with the TEF, and even these could not be taught. The TEF had hoped to get the free services of the public school teachers, who were still receiving their salaries from the state. When Colonel James G. Martin, IV, TEF president, appeared before the Norfolk Education Association on October 3 and asked for volunteers, however, he was met with stony silence; only one of the 450 teachers in the closed schools agreed to work for the TEF. Much as the educators were opposed to any plan for replacing the public schools, they could not stand idly by and let their students go untaught. Many had already joined tutoring groups started before the closing order was issued, and these groups now sprang up all over the city, meeting in Sunday school rooms or parlors; about four thousand of the locked-out pupils received some instruction in this manner. The First Methodist Church organized a school to take care of three hundred in its building. The TEF recruited a dozen teachers from outside the public school system and enrolled 270 students in its classes. South Norfolk came to the rescue by setting up a night school in its high school, providing education for another nine hundred. Other students squeezed into public schools in near-by communities or moved in with relatives in other towns or other states; some sixteen hundred transfers to other schools were recorded. About one-fourth of the exiled students received no educa¬ tion at all; they got married, joined the Army, went to work, or simply stood on street corners. The one survival of the public high schools was the football team. The ghost schools played a full schedule, Not By Bread Alone 389 complete with bands and cheer leaders; the only noticeable difference was the absence of the band uniforms, locked up inside the closed schools. The plight of the idled students brought Norfolk almost as much national attention as in that harrowing summer of 1942 when the war boom exploded. Norfolk was not the only city affected by the crisis— high schools were also closed in Charlottesville, Warren County, and Little Rock—but its ten thousand students far outnumbered those kept out of the other empty high schools; moreover, many of them were children of Navy families, who took their complaints to Wash¬ ington. A team of Life photographers descended on Norfolk to tell the story of “The Lost Class of 1959.” They found a wide range of reaction among the students they interviewed from a group of Nor- view High boys displaying signs reading, “Nigger Hunting by Per¬ mission Only,’’ to the emphatic comment of Brenda Lee Smith, Maury student council member: “I don’t care if I’m the only white girl in a whole school of Negroes. I don’t care if they’re pink or yellow or whatever. I just want to go to school.” 22 Out-of-town re¬ porters arrived in numbers to cover the story, and Edward R. Murrow came to him an hour-long television feature for CBS, broadcast on January 21, 1959. Meanwhile, the hght to reopen the high schools was going on on many different fronts. The Norfolk School Board asked the governor to reopen the schools, even with integration, and the governor replied that he could not do so under state law. The City Council asked the governor to reopen the schools on a segregated basis, and he replied that he could not do that under Federal law. A Norfolk Committee for Public Schools soon numbered several thousand members, but they were admittedly amateurs in politics and seemed to represent no real political strength. When the City Council was asked to request the governor to return the schools to the city for local operation without state support, Mayor Duckworth replied that it would cost the city $2,500,000 a year extra to do this. To get an accurate picture of public opinion, the Council called for a referendum on November 18, 1958. By a predicted 3-2 margin, the voters rejected the idea of returning the schools to local operation, although critics declared that the ballot was “loaded” with a statement that tuition would be charged if the schools were reopened. With this apparent mandate, the Council set to work on its own 22 Life, Nov. 3, 1958, pp. 21-27. ggo Norfolk: Historic Southern Port “little massive resistance program.” Shortly after the referendum it adopted a policy of tentatively appropriating school funds and, beginning January 1, 1959, of making available to the school board during any one month only so much of such funds as was necessary for that month’s operations, thus retaining control over the city funds with which the schools were operated and enabling the Council to close other schools if it became necessary. When Councilman L. L. Layton at a Council meeting on December 9 made a plea to the seventeen Negro children to withdraw their application to attend the white schools, his concluding remarks caused speculation that the Council intended to close the Negro high schools unless the Negro applications were withdrawn within the week. 23 Councilman Layton, however, made clear that this was not intended as an ultimatum, and the Council decided not to put its plan into effect until the end of the first semester. It ordained that, beginning February 1, 1959, it did not propose to make any part of the school funds tentatively appropriated available to the school board for the operation of any grade above the sixth. Before that time could come, however, a series of legal decisions had made the Council’s action unnecessary. Immediately after the school closing a group of Norfolk parents had asked the Federal District Court for an injunction ordering the schools reopened. About the same time Governor Almond had arranged for a suit in the Virginia Supreme Court of Appeals to test the constitutionality of the massive resistance laws, and the Federal court waited for the state court to act before issuing its own ruling. Decision day was January 19, 1959. On that date the State Supreme Court ruled that the mas¬ sive resistance acts violated the state constitution, and, as soon as the news reached Norfolk, a special three-judge Federal court ruled that the state laws violated the U. S. Constitution. 24 The fight was not quite over. A suit asking for an injunction against the City Council and the school board to prevent the Council from putting into effect its proposal to deny funds for the operation of any high schools had already been filed by a group of Norfolk parents, and a decision in that case was not handed down until Tuesday, January 27. That morning a sign of shifting opinion ap¬ peared with the publication of “A Public Petition to the Norfolk City Council,” urging the Council to open the schools as soon as 23 Virginian-Pilot, Nov. 26, Dec. 10, 1958. 24 New York Times, Jan. 20, 1959. Not By Bread A lone 391 possible. The petition was signed by one hundred prominent business¬ men and civic leaders, the first time so many well-known persons had taken a public stand on the question. Nevertheless, the Council decided to exhaust its legal defenses so that it could not be accused of surrendering without a fight. Its attorneys defended it before District Judge Hoffman, and, when Judge Hoffman granted an in¬ junction against the Council, it appealed the case to the Fourth Circuit Court of Appeals, which affirmed Judge Hoffman, and then it applied to the Supreme Court of the United States for a writ of certiorari, which was denied. 25 The Council, however, did not ask for a stay of execution, which might have permitted closing all the high schools at week’s end. Instead the Council announced its willingness to co-operate in opening all the schools for the beginning of the second semester the following week. It made clear its position in a statement: “The Council, pur¬ suant to the expressed will of the majority of the people whom it represents, has endeavored to stand against what it considers to be an abridgment of constitutional rights guaranteed to it and the citizens of Norfolk. The action of the United States District Court, unless reversed on appeal, prevents the Council from doing what it deems to be in the best interests of the City, but, pending the outcome of the appeal which will be taken, the Council must abide by the order of the District Court. “We appeal to every segment of our community to conduct itself in the same peaceful and law-abiding manner that has been one of the commendable aspects of this trying time. “It is our duty and desire to advise every one that no violence or other unlawful action will be tolerated or condoned. The City’s law enforcement agencies have been alerted to preserve and protect the property, peace and safety of the City and all of its inhabitants. “We earnestly and sincerely request the full cooperation of all our people to this end.” 26 On Monday, February 2, 1959, a crowd of reporters assembled to watch the first Negro children in Virginia enter a white school. To their surprise no policemen were visible, for City Manager Thomas F. Maxwell had such faith in the law-abiding nature of the people of Norfolk that he kept every uniform out of sight. The white students 25 Virginian-Pilot, Jan. 27, 28, 1959; Letter of Leonard H. Davis to T. F. Maxwell, Oct. 25, i960. 26 Virginian-Pilot, Jan. 29, 1959. 392 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port themselves were determined that nothing should happen which might close their schools again, and there were no incidents. Most of the locked-out students returned, and the schools operated on a nearly normal basis. When commencement time rolled around in June, more than half the “Lost Class of 1959” was still lost; of the 1,037 seniors who had registered in September at the three city high schools, only 455 were on hand to receive their diplomas at the end of the year. How did it feel to be a member of the Lost Class of 1959? a Maury senior was asked. “That’s silly,” he replied. “We aren’t lost; we know where we’re going.” 27 Although the schools were open again, ill feeling created by the crisis still rankled. It was reported that the Council felt the school board had defied the will of the people by its failure to co-operate with the private school movement and that the board should be made more responsive to public opinion. In April, 1959, the Council asked the General Assembly, then in special session, to revise the state law by increasing the size of the school board from six to seven members and shortening their term from three years to two. 28 Under this provision the Council in July named three new members to the board, two of them replacing persons whose terms had expired. In¬ stead of the expected fireworks, however, the new members joined the old in unanimously re-electing as chairman Paul Schweitzer, who had furnished the leadership in defending the public schools. 29 Meanwhile, the ghost of massive resistance was being quietly laid to rest in the Democratic primary for new elections to the General Assembly. The city’s representatives in the assembly had supported Governor Almond’s program for acceptance of token integration in the special session and had thus become the target for sharp criticism by the local Defenders. In the race for Norfolk’s six seats in the House of Delegates, the Democratic organization endorsed the four incumbents who chose to stand for re-election with their record in favor of public schools, along with two new candidates who attempted to maintain a neutral position. The Defenders put up three men on a massive resistance platform, while two independents ran as en¬ thusiastic supporters of public education. When the primary was held on July 14, 1959, the six nominations went to the six supporters of public schools by a substantial margin. With this demonstration 27 Ibid., June 7, 1959. 28 Ibid., April 10, 1959. 29 Ibid., July 12, 1959. 393 Not By Bread Alone that public schools were no longer an issue, the Council moved to heal the breach with the school board. Early in i960 the vacancy on the Council created by the resignation of George R. Abbott was filled by the appointment of none other than school board chairman Paul Schweitzer, erstwhile target of Council criticism. As he was elected by unanimous vote of the City Council, Vice Mayor N. B. Etheridge said, “I hope this clarifies that this council wants the best education money can buy.” 30 At this juncture, when Norfolk stood solidly committed to public education, it was fitting that national recognition in the form of a Pulitzer prize should come to the man who had done as much as anyone to bring about that stand. This was the second time the Pulitzer prize for distinguished editorial writing had come to Norfolk; the first award was made in 1929 to Louis I. Jaffe, editor of the Virginian-Pilot, for his 1928 editorials leading to the enactment of a state anti-lynching law. The award in i960, again for editorials on an issue with racial overtones, went to the man who had succeeded Jaff£ ten years earlier, Lenoir Chambers. At a time when it was regarded almost as treason to utter public criticism of the state’s massive resistance laws. Chambers’ voice had sounded openly and boldly in favor of reopening the public schools, and his editorials through 1959, the crucial year of transition, had helped to guide his city to its firm decision in favor of public education. The attitude of Editor Chambers, which had become the attitude of the city of Norfolk, was well summed up in the concluding words of his final editorial for 1959, “The Year Virginia Opened the Schools”: “More intelligent handling of problems of great difficulty will con¬ tinue and increase only if common-sense and courage continue to direct the course of both political leadership and public opinion. The struggles for reasonable solutions are not over. The state may see setbacks of various proportions. It is certain to encounter perplexities not easy to resolve. It may discover demagogues entranced with the thought of exploiting honest doubts and uncertainties as well as old prejudices. It needs sensible cooperation from its Negro citizenship. It needs every ounce of good will it can find from any source. “But the old years of impracticality, unconstitutionalism, and futility are on the way out. If Virginia can produce more willingness to face the facts and fresh qualities of initiative and leadership in 30 Ibid.., Feb. 18, i960. 394 Norfolk: Historic Southern Port dealing with them, the year the state opened the schools can lead to a New Year of hope.” 31 Standing at the beginning of the 1960’s, Norfolk with leadership like this was looking forward, not merely to a New Year, but to a whole new decade, full of hope and confidence in the future. 31 Ibid., Dec. 31, 1959. Index Abbott, George R., 393 A bigail, go Abingdon,175 Abyvon, Mayor, 20 Academy, Norfolk, 92, 132, 137-141, 143, 193 . 2 55 - 2 5 6 ’ 2 94 - 353 - 377 ; plate VII Academy of Music, 258, 263-264, 296 Academy Square, 140 Accomac, 226 Accomack County, 331 Acropolis, 1 ig Adam, 117 Adam and Eve, 81, 123 Adams, John, 90, 91 Adams, John Quincy, 150, 151 Adeona, 87 Admiral Taussig Boulevard, 350, 358 Admiralty, British, 76 Africa, colonizing Negroes in, 127 Agatha, 46 Agle, Charles K., 373 Aid Fire Company, 253 Air raid defense, 354-355 Airplane, first, 291 Aitchinson, Mr., 68 Akron Public Library, 384 Alabama, 176, 229, 260 Alabama, 347, 359 Albemarle, 284 Albemarle cavalry, 111 Albemarle County, N. C., 34 Albemarle County, Va., 83 Albemarle and Chesapeake canal, 185- 186, 229, 271, 275 Albemarle and Pantego Railroad, 278 Albemarle Sound, 30-33, 41, 88, 91, 113, 114, 158, 160-163, 167. 185* 210, 211, 216 Albert, 314 Alexander, 87 Alexandria, 44, 79, 82, 158, 176, 184, 222 Alexandria convention, 232, 233 Alexis, Grand Duke, 263, 269 Alfriend, John S., 365 Algeciras, 108 All-America City award, 276 Alleghenies, 178 Allen, William H., and Co., 250 Allen Line, 284 Almond, J. Lindsay, Jr., 387, 390, 392 Alsace, 311 Amelia Island, 108 American Chain Company, 310 American Cousin, The, 262 American Legion, 336 American Legion Auxiliary, 354 American Mercury, 352 Ames and Stevens building, 258 Amherst County, 83 Amsterdam, 109 Anacostian Boat Club, 266 Anderson, Isaac, 93 Andlauer, General, 312 Andrews, Annie M., ig3 Andros, Governor Edmund, 36 Anna-Maria, 103 Annapolis Convention, 79 Ann-Elizabeth, g8 Annexation, 261, 323, 362-366 Anniston, Ala., 302 Antelope, 188 Anthony, John, 39 Antifederalists, 78, 79 Antigua, 35, 37, 38, 44-46, 77, 84, 85, 87, 95, 107, 146, 151, 152 Apartment houses, 291-292 Appomattox, surrender at, 232 Appomattox River, 83, 167, 168, 176, 181, 277 Arbuthnot, Admiral, 72 Archer, Edward, 92 Architectural Forum, 352, 353 Argentina, 304, 326 Argonne-Meuse offensive, 312-317 Argus, The Southern, 124, 133, 140, 142, 176, 178, 179, 182, 199, 202, 203 Armistead, Thomas, 87 Armistead, W. A., 92 Armistice, 316 Armstrong, Dr. George D., 193-194, ig6- 197, 226 Army Base, 306, 321-323, 330 Army Engineers, 367 Army of the Potomac, 213 Arnold, Benedict, 72 Arras, 314 Art Corner, 378 Articles of Confederation, 77, 80 Index 396 Arts, Norfolk Society of, 264 Arts Building, 377-378 Arundel, 22 Asbury, Francis, 136 Ashbumer, Charles E., 319-323 Ashland Hall, 184, 199-204 Assembly, Virginia General, 4, 8, 11, 13, 24, 33, 48, 53, 77, 78, 136, 138, 296, 369, 392 Association of Commerce, 336 Athens, 140 Atlanta, 326, 380 Atlantic, Mississippi, and Ohio Rail¬ road, 272-273, 276; station, 261; see also Norfolk and Western Railroad Atlantic and Danville Railroad, 279, 280 Atlantic and North Carolina Railroad, 274 Atlantic Artillery, 229 Atlantic City, 260, 261,288, 289, 372, 373 Atlantic Coast Line, 278, 279 Atlantic Hotel, 132, 207, 219, 243, 248, 258, 266, 267, 292, 297 Atlantic Ocean, 30, 32, 37, 38, 40, 354 Atlantic Street, 293, 341 Auditorium, Municipal, 350-351, 358, 381, 382 Augusta, Ga., 120 Austin, Stephen and Moses, 83 Australia, 326 Austria, 344 Automobiles, first, 290-291 Avon Theater, 118-119, 132 Azalea garden, 342, 345, 383 Bacca, 39 Bach, Johann Sebastian, 382 Bachelor’s Mill, 56 Back Creek, 4, 15, 92, 131-132, 195, 292, 293; filled in, 251-252 Back Street, 5 Bainbridge, Commodore, 125 Baker, J. C., 266 Baker, Newton D., Secretary of War, 321 Baldwin, Colonel J. P., 271 Balfour, Dr., 188 Balfour and Barraud, 46 Ballance, Samuel, 34 Ballentine Boulevard, 371 Baltimore, 91, 114, 153, 158, 161-163, 165. 166, 168, 169, 172, 176-178, 180, 182, 192, 193. »95. 215, 223, 234, 266, 273, 274, 276, 281, 284, 285, 291, 299, 300, 326, 378, 380; Democratic convention in,201 Baltimore and Ohio Railroad, 166, 176, 177 Baltimore Mail Steamship Line, 330 Baltimore Steam Packet Company, 179- 180 Bandy, 121 Banking crisis, 333-334 Bank of Commerce, 258, 293, 294 Bank Street, 118, 129, 132, 137, 251, 287, 288, 375, 385 Banner of the South, The, 120 Baptist Church, 137, 144, 241 Barbados, 35-37, 3g, 84, 147, 277 Barcelona, 277 Barrington, Governor, 34, 35 Barron, Commodore James, 100-101, 124-125 Barry, C. Moran, 331 Barry Brothers, 284 Barry’s Row, ig2 Baseball, 265-266 Bay View School, 351 Bayne, Thomas, 235-237, 239-244 Beacher, J. J., 337 Beacon, The American, 130, 131, 141, 150, 155, 181 Beardsley’s, 248 Beaufort, N. C., 114, 161, 274 Beaufort, 213, 214 Beaumont, 316 Belfast, 277 Belgium, German invasion of, 300 Bell. John, 201-202 Bell Church, 137 Belle Isle, 314 Bellinger, Mrs. P. N. L., 359 Bellona, 102 Belt Line, Norfolk and Portsmouth, 280- 281,306 Ben Franklin, 1 g 1 Benmoreell, 348 Benson, C. C., police chief, 254 Beraule, Mr., 138 Berea Church, Great Bridge, 238 Berkeley, Admiral, 103 Berkley, 103, 278, 279 Berkley bridge, 366, 367, 374; approach, Plate XVII Berkley School, 340 Bermuda, 110, 145, 148, 152 Bermuda Street, 5, 16, 118, 130, 131, 195, 261 Bermudez, Don Pedro, 22 Bernard, Gabriel, 89 Bertie County, N. C., 159 Bethincourt, 314 Betsy, 46 Betty, 39 Biggs, Asa, 267 Biggs, K., 181 Bird, H. D., 179 Birmingham, Ala., 325 Black, Munro, Fund of the Norfolk Foundation, 384 Black-Eyed Susan, 262 Index 397 Blackouts, 354-355 Blackstone, 284 Blackwater River, 161, 358 Bladensburg, Md., 125 Blair, John, 80 Blair Junior High School, 351 Blake, Peter, 6 Blakely, 172 Blanchard, M., 88 Blanchard, Thomas, 120 Blanchet, Francois, 89 Bland, William, 138 Blow, General George, 204, 205 Blow, Lula, 267 Blue and Gray Division, 310-313 Blue Eagle, 335-337 Blue Ridge, 311 Board of Public Works, 173 Board of Trade, British, 41 Board of Trade, Norfolk, 297 Boat Club, Norfolk, 267 Bois de Brabant, 313 Bois de Consenvoyne, 313 Bois de Four, 315 Bois de Gerache, 315 Bois de la Grande Montagne, 313 Bois des Ogons, 315, 317 Bois de Septsarges, 315 Boissevain pier, 313 Bonetta, 73 Bonsai, Caleb, bookseller, 134 Bonsai, Caleb, miller, ig6 Booker T. Washington High School, 342, 352 Booth, Edwin, 262 Booth, Junius Brutus, 118 Borgia, Lucretia, 262 Borland, Charles B., 345, 350 Borough Tavern, 79, 81, 89, 91 Boston, 18, 25, 50, 91, 95, 107, 115, 158, 163, 165, 166, 178, 179, 198, 214, 223, 299, 300, 322, 327; steamship lines to, 284-285 Boston, 99 Boston Massacre, 236 Boston Port Bill, 50 Botetourt Street, 261 Boush, Samuel, Jr., 6, 8 Boush, Samuel, Sr., 6, 11, 22, 33 Boush Street, 131 Boush’s Bluff, 209 Boutakoff, Rear Admiral, 263, 269 Bowden, Henry M., 235-236 Bowden, R., & Co., 87 Boy Scouts, 302 Boykin, W. A., 267 Brabanter Stellung, 312, 313 Bradford lakes, 249 Bramble, George, 261 Brambleton, 260-261, 288, 310, 340 Brambleton Avenue, 261,341,370, 373 Branding of livestock, 29-30 Brandywine, 83 Braxton, Carter, 78 Brazil, 260, 326 Breckinridge, John C., 201-202 Bremen, 330 Brewer Street, 323 Brieulles, 312, 315 Briggs’ Point, 93, 121, 133, 134 Bristol, England, 3, 35, 46, 51, 182 Bristol, Tenn., 272, 279 British-American Tobacco Co., 310 Broad Creek, 33, 249 Broad Creek Road, 370 Broad Creek Village, 368, 372 Brooke, John M., 213 Brooke Avenue, 293, 369 Brothers, 87 Broughton, R. G., Jr., 254 Broughton, Thomas G., 141 Brown, Francis, 18 Brown, George, 254 Brown, John, of Harpers Ferry, 200, 226 Brown, John, of Norfolk, 51, 63 Bruges, 311 Buchan, schoolmaster, 25 Buchanan, Va., 178 Buchanan, Flag-Officer, 215 Buchanan, James, 200, 204 Buenos Aires, 108 Buffalo, N. Y„ 368 Bull, Ole, 117 Bulloch House, 298 Bureau of Traffic Survey, 350 Burnside, General Ambrose E., 210-212, 216,217 Burnt Mills Lake, 320, 358 Burroughs, W. H., 242 Burton, H. W., 264 Bute Street, 126, 137, 233, 234, 254, 287, 34i Bute Street Baptist Church, 241 Butler, General Benjamin F., 142, 222- 23L 255 Butt, Thomas, 6 Byers, Leonora, 93 Byrd, Harry F., 340 Byrd, William, 6, 11, 16, 23, 25, 29, 36, 42, 46 Cabell, Joseph C., 174 Cabell County, 175 Cabin Point, 44, 45 Ctkliz, 22, 45, 105, 108, 188 Caesar, 42 Calais, iog, 314 Calhoun, John C., 122, 123 California, 359 Calvert, Christopher, 16, 69 Index 39 8 Calvert, John, 95 Calvert, Mayor Maximilian, 49 Calvert’s Lane, 118, 126 Calvert's wharf, 87 Calypso, 185 Camden County, N. C., 331 Camp Lee, 303, 313 Camp McClellan, 302, 310, 311 Camp Pendleton, 347, 349 Campamagy, Jean Baptiste, 89 Campbell, A. D., 237 Campbell, Calvin, 14 Campbell, Donald, 25 Campbell, Mrs. Susanna, 25 Campostella, 371 Campostella bridge, 261, 339, 347 Canada, 18, 40, 105, 107, 147, 150 Canal at Richmond, 83-84 Canary Islands, 326 Canby, General E. R. S., 242 Canning, George, 150 Canonicus, 266 Cape Charles, 27 Cape Charles City, 280 Cape Cod, 17, 105 Cape Fear, 40 Cape Frangois, 39 Cape Hatteras, 114, 211 Cape Henry, 27, 30, 31, 55, 71, 99, too, 103. 347 Cape Henry lighthouse, 296 Cape Lookout, 30, 114 Cape Roman shoals, 114 Capes of the Chesapeake, 37, 60, 67, 70, 72, 76, 77, 83, 89, 90, 96, 99, 100, 110, 215 Capitol, U. S., 140 Capitol, Virginia State, 236 Carnegie, Andrew, 294 Carnegie Library of Pittsburgh, 384 Carolinas, 17, 71; see also North and South Carolina Carpenter, 87 Carr, Captain, 111 Carroll, J. C., 266 Carrollton mansion, 298 Carteret, N. C., 286 Cassatt, A. J., 280 Castile, Council of, 174 Castillano, Jose, 126 Castlereagh, Lord, 147 Catharine Street, 16, 92, 101, 124, 131, 132.139. 241.254 Catherine, 38-39 Catherine-Eliza, g7 Catholic Church, 136-137 Catlett, J. Charles, 92 Causey, W. B., 323-324 Cavalier Hotel, 296 Cayuga, 218 Cedar Grove cemetery, 144 Centipede, 113 Central Presbyterian Church, 259 Chabaner, Pierre, 89 Chamber of Commerce, Norfolk, 250, 373 . 384 Chamberlin Hotel, 294 Chambers, Lenoir, 393 Chambre, Walter, 51 Champ, 39 Champlitte, France, 311 Chancellorsville, 228-230 Chandler, Lucius H., 239-241, 245-246 Chapel Street, 137 Charles II, 4 Charles Carter, gg Charles City County, 69 Charles City road, 229 Charleston, S. C., 71, 95, 113, 114, 153, 193, 205, 206, 275; Democratic conven¬ tion in, 200-201 Charleston, W. Va., 175 Charlotte, N. C., 274, 275 Charlotte County, 161 Charlotte Street, 6, 12, 132, 137, 139, 241 Charlottesville, 175, 183, 381, 389 Charon, 72 Chase, Bishop Philander, 140 Chase, Salmon P., 217 Chattanooga, 272 Cherry, Mr., 126 Chesapeake and Ohio canal, 166 Chesapeake and Ohio Railroad, 277-278, 283, 326; boat discontinued, 369 Chesapeake and Potomac Telephone Company, 310 Chesapeake Bay, 27, 32, 35, 38, 41, 43, 47, 52, 69, 72, 76, 91, 110, 113, 160, 213, 295. 296 Chesapeake Bay bridge-tunnel, 367 Chesapeake Bay Ferry Commission, 367 Chesapeake Bay steamers, 172 Chesapeake Boat Club, 266 Chesapeake-Leopard affair, 100-103, 11 5 > 125 Chesterfield, 229 Chesterfield Heights, 371 Chicago, 322, 325 Chickahominy River, 229 Chile, 305, 326 China, 260, 304, 344 Chisholm, William, 74 Chorus, Norfolk Civic, 381 Chowan and Southern Railway, 278 Chowan precinct, 33-35, 44 Chowan River, 30, 31, 161, 211, 260 Christ Church, 92, 101, 117, 124, 129, 136, 143 Christian, 46 Christmas Clearing House, 332 Index 399 Chronicle, Norfolk and Portsmouth, 141 Church, Norfolk Parish, 6, 7, 12, 22-24; see also St. Paul’s Church Church Street, 5, 6, 9, 11, 13, 22, 33, 54, 61, 74, 88, 89, 92, 111, 126, 130, 131, 138-140, 243, 252, 258-260, 287, 288, 292, 295, 319, 358; Plate XV Churches, development of, 135-137 Cincinnati, 325 Circuses, 116-117, 268 Citizens’ Bank, 258; building, 293 Citizens Public Works Committee, 339 Citizens’ Union, 319 City Gas Light Company, 133, 144, 223, 253 City Hall, 118, 132, 144, 201, 217, 238- 241, 244, 251, 252, 294, 341, 353, 377; Plate XII City Hall Avenue, 4, 5, 252, 292, 293, 317, 3 » 9 . 37 U 3 8 5 ; filled in . 132 City Home, 338 City Hotel, 193 City-manager system introduced, 318- 3i9 City Point, 83, 179, 240 City Railroad Company, Norfolk, 288 City Welfare Center, 332 Civic center, 373-374; Plate XX Civil Defense, see Air Raid Defense Civil Rights Bill, 234 Civil War, 165, 207-231 Civil Works Administration, 337-338, 340,343 Clarke, Bartholomew, 6 Clarke, Clarence H., 273 Clarksburg, 177 Clarksville, 181 Clay, Henry, 116 Clinton, DeWitt, 166 Clyde, William P., 278 Clyde line, 285 Coal trade, 273-274, 281-283, 304-305, 33 °. 359 - 3 60 Cobb, General, 230 Cobb, Elijah, 17, 105 Cocke, General John Hartwell, 122 Coffee, Captain, 225 Cold Harbor, 228, 230 Cole, Albert M., 373 College for Young Ladies, Norfolk, 293; Plate X College Place, 292, 294 Colley, John P., 165 Colley Avenue, 267, 289 Collier, Sir George, 70 Collier’s, 352 Collinson, Richard, 24 Colmini, 126 Colonial Avenue, 302 Colonial Place, 291 Colonial Stores, 368 Colonial Theatre, 301 Colonization Society, Norfolk, 127 Colorado, 165, 277 Coloradoes rocks, 40 Columbia, 208 Columbia Broadcasting System, 389 Columbia Building, 292 Columbian Bards, 120 Columbus, Ohio, 274 Columbus, 207, 208 Commerce Street, g3 Commercial Place, 5, 7, 291, 292, 323, 350; Plate XI; see also Market Square Committee of Public Safety, 50-53, 65-66 Committee for Public Schools, 389 Commons, House of, 48, 76 Community Fund, 332, 334 Community Hospital for Negroes, Nor¬ folk, 342, 345 Concord Street, 131 Confederacy, The, 382 Congress, U. S., 77, 8t, 95, 97, 99, 104, 124, 145, 147-150, 301 Congress, 213-215 Conner, Lewis, 6 Conservatory of Music, 264 Constable, Dr., 193 Constantine, Grand Duke, 263, 269 Constellation, 110-113, 115 Constitution, ratification of, 79-81 Constitutional Convention, 79 Constitutional Union party, 201-202 Continental Association, 51, 52 Contrast, The, 118 Convention, French National, 89, 90 Convention, Virginia Revolutionary, 52, 57, 60, 63, 64, 66 Convoys during colonial wars, 38 Cook, Dr., 224 Cooke, Giles B., 153 Cooke, Richard D., 351 Cooper, John, gi Corbin, Francis, 80 Cornet, 46 Cornwallis, Lord, 71-73 Corprew, Colonel Thomas J., 229 Corprew Avenue, 385 Cotton Exchange, 258, 276 Cotton trade, 272-276, 287, 327 Council, Colonial, 41 Council of Civic Leagues, 363-364 Couper, William, 107, 128, igo Court Street, 131 Courthouse, city, see City Hall Courthouse, county, 5, 7, 11, 12, 15 Courthouse, town, 7 n.; see also Town Hall Cove Street, 132 Coverley, Mrs. Ann, 18, 31 400 Index Covington, 184 Cox, Lawrence M., 370 Cradock, 309 Crampton Gap, battle of, 230 Craney Island, 64, 72, 143, 144, 205, 209, 218; battle of, 111-113; Plate V Crater, explosion of the, 230 Crawford Street, Portsmouth, 72 Crawford’s Point, 33 Creighton baseball club, 265-266 Cretcher, Thomas, 18 Cricket, 121 Cronkhite, General, 316 Cropper, Thomas T., 145 Cross, Betty, 93 Crozet, Claudius, 185 Cuba, 96, 97, 330 Culloden, 21 Culpeper, Thomas, Lord, 4 Culpeper County, 139 Culpeper lock, 160 Cumberland, 207, 208, 213, 214 Cumberland Street, 4, 126, 131, 136, 137 Cumberland Street Baptist Church, 144 Cumberland Street Methodist Church, 144 Cumberland Valley, 182 Cunningham, William, 141 Curasao, 41 Currituck, 114, 161 Currituck Bridge, 229 Currituck County, N. C., 331 Currituck precinct, 34 Currituck Sound, 31, 163, 185, 268 Custine, Citizen, 89 Custom House: first, 91; of 1824, 122- 123, 128; present, 132, 219, 221, 248, 25 s - 293. 34 L 377 Daily Pilot, 256 Dan, 162 Dan River, 16r, 181 Dana, Phineas, 124 Dana, Phinehan, 87 Dancing, 122-123 Dane, 39 Dannevoux, 315 Dante’s Inferno, 315 Danville, 162, 175, 275, 279 Danzig, 346 Darden, Colgate W„ Jr., 340, 347 Darden, Mayor Pretlow, 362 Davis, Rev. Mr., 101 Davis, Henry, 212 Davis, Jefferson, 204, 217, 221, 226, 236, 275 Davis, Thomas, 23, 50 Davis, William, 141 Davis, William Wallace, 120 Davis brothers, 125-126 Dawes, S. S., 120 Dawson, James, 16 Day Book, Norfolk, 142, 205-212; sup¬ pressed, 219 Dearborn, Henry, 103 Decatur, Commodore Stephen, 101, 125 Declaration of Independence, 301 DeCordy, Mayor Francis, 237, 240, 244 Deep Creek, 134, 159, 161, 250 Deepwater, W. Va., 283 Defenders of State Sovereignty and Indi¬ vidual Liberties, 388, 392 De Grasse, Admiral, 73 Delany, Mayor W. D., 196 Delaware, 198 Delaware, 140, 207, 208; launched, 164 Delaware River, 168 Delegates, Virginia House of, 99, 182, 184,392 Delisle, Monsieur, 89 Delpino, Frank L., 381 Demerara, 277 Democrats, 200-202 Denan Castle, 39 Denmark, 304 De Paul Hospital, 358 Depression of the 1930's, 328-343 Detroit, 325 Devlin, Mary, 119 Dibbs, Captain John, 6 Dickson, Horace K., 336 Dickson, William C., 266 Dickson place, 293 Diggs, J. Eugene, 336 Dilworth, Peter, 244-245 Dinwiddie, 39 Dinwiddie, Governor Robert, 8-9, 81 Dinwiddie County, 167 Diphtheria mortality rate, 326 Directory, French, 90 Dismal Swamp, 28, 33, 34, 56, 183, 271 Dismal Swamp canal, 158-164, 167, 185, 250; opened, 114 District Court, U. S., 387, 390-391 District of Columbia, 162, 335 Dock Street, 234 Doctor’s Creek, 185 Dodson Building, 258, 260, 276 Dolphin, 208 Dorns, Keith, 384 Donaldson, balloonist, 268 Donaldson, Thorburn & Co., 87 Donelson, A. J., 200 Dorman, O. M., 237 Dornin, F. B., 266 Douglas, Commodore John E., 101-102 Douglas, Stephen A., 116, 201-202 Douglass, Laura T., 267 Doyle’s Lake, 249 Drake, 87 Index 401 Drayton, Michael, 382 Dred Scott decision, 200, 201 Drudge, Mrs., 24 Drummond, R. Q., 237 Dry dock, 164, 208, 218 Ducamp, Gaspard, 89 1 Ducking stool, 11,49 Duckworth, Mayor W. Fred, 362, 369, 373, 376, 384, 387, 389 Dumouriez, Citizen, 89 Dunmore, 62, 65-67 Dunmore, Lady, 20, 21 Dunmore, Lord, 20, 46, 52-68, 71, 141; Plate I Du Pont de Nemours, E. I., and Co., 310 Durand, Louis, 89 Durant, Lewis E., & Co., 87 Dutchess of Douglas, 39 Eagles’ Hall, 319 East Main Street, 350, 373 - 374 ; see also Main Street East Street, 5 East Tennessee and Georgia Railroad, 272,273 Eastern Branch, 4, 5, 33, 54, 103, 144, 183, 185, 267, 281, 282, 323, 339, 363; see also Elizabeth River Eastern Shore, 286, 367, 369 Eastern Shore and Peninsula railroads, 280 Eddy, actor, 262 Edenton, 30, 33, 87, 161 Edmonds, Mr., 139 Education, 6, 24-25, 255-256, 325, 351, 385-394 Eighteenth French Division, 312 Eightieth Division, 313-316 Eilbeck, Jonathan, 63, 74, 92 Eilbeck, Ross & Co., 51 Electric Light Company of Virginia, 252 Eliza, 96, 109 Elizabeth, 46, 51, go Elizabeth City, 161 Elizabeth City and Norfolk Railroad, 278 Elizabeth City County, 80 Elizabeth River, 4, 27-29, 31, 33, 42-46, 49, 50, 52, 63-66, 70, 71, 74, 76, 77, 83, 85, 108, 109, 111, 143, 144, 146, 147, 153, 157, 158, 192, 208-210, 213, 216, 218, 266, 269, 271, 272, 274, 276- 284, 291, 308, 321, 326, 330, 357; see also Eastern, Southern, and Western branches Elizabeth River parish, 22-24 Elizabeth River tunnels, 366 Elliott, K. B., 285 Elmwood cemetery, 144, 260 Emancipation Proclamation, 220, 233 Emancipator, 197 Embargo, 104-108 Emergency Banking Act, 333 Emergency Relief Committee, 332 Emergency Relief Organization, U. S., 333 Emerson, Captain, 113 Endor, Woman of, 117 England, 14, 45, 51, 76, 188, 319; see also Great Britain Ennes & Hope, 12 Enterprise, 185 Ephesus, 284 Epidemics, 13, 188-197 Episcopal Church, Protestant, 135-136 Ericsson, John, 215 Erie Canal, 153, 160, 166, 174 Etheridge, N. B., 393 Ethiopian Corps, 56, 59 Europe, 3, 68, 83, 85, 87, 105, 113-115, 156, 157, 360 Evans, Captain, 96 Evans, Admiral Robley D., 297 Evansville, Ind., 309 Everett, Edward, 201 Exchange Bank,196 Exchange Coffee House, 91, 101, 122 Eyre, Littleton, 80 Fair American, 87 Fairfax Hotel, 336 Fairs, 8, 19-20 Falconer, James, 23 Falmouth, 44, 45 Fame, 109 Fanny, 39, 51 Farmers’ Bank of Virginia, 139, 165 Farmer’s Lane, 131 Fauquier, Governor Francis, 45 Faust, 262, 263 Favorite, 147 Fayette Street, 258 Federal Building, 341 Federal Emergency Relief Administra tion, 334 Federal Farm Board, 333 Federal Fuel Administration, 306 Federal Housing Act, 370 Federal Transient Bureau, 334 Federal Works Agency, 350-351 Federalist, 79 Federalists, 77, 78, 81, 90 Feldman, I. E., 382 Feldman Chamber Music Society, 382 Fenchurch Street, 5, g2, 118, 130, 131, 13 6 . ! 39 Ferebee, John, 4, 5, 370, 374 Feret, Alexander, 196 Ferries, 33-34 Ferry Point, 65, 103 402 Index Fifty-fourth Regiment, Norfolk militia, 90 Fillmore, Estelle, 267 Fillmore, Millard, 199, 200 Fincastle, 63 Finiken, William, 19 Finland, 311 Fire protection, 12-13, 253, 325 Fireboat Vulcan, 325 Fires, 128-129 First American Army, 314 First Baptist Church, 137 First Methodist Church, 388 First National Bank, 235 First Regiment, Virginia Field Artillery, 310 Fisher, Kate, 262 Fiske, Martin, 87 Fiveash, Joseph G., 254 Fleming, Adam, 44 Florence Crittenton Home, 335 Florence, Italy, 120 Florida, 260, 295 Fluvanna County, 83 Folger, Fire Chief, 253 Food Administrator, 307 Fordyce, Captain, 58 Foreman Field, 340, 386 Forrest, W. S., 119, 143, 198, 293 Fort Clark, 211 Fort Fisher, 284 Fort Hatteras, 211,226 Fort Lee, see Camp Lee Fort Monroe, 122, 213, 216, 233, 253, 294 Fort Nelson, 103, 111, 129, 142, 209 Fort Norfolk, 101, 103, 110, 111, 142, 143, 209, 261 Fort Norfolk Road, 267 Fort Oglethorpe, 302 Fort Story, 296, 347, 349 Fort Sumter, 206 Foster, John, 86 Foster and Moore’s store, 221 Fourteenth Amendment, 387 Fourth Circuit Court of Appeals, 387, 39i Fourth Division, 314 Fourth of July celebrations, 80, 123-124 Fourth Virginia Regiment, 302, 310 Fox and Denier, 262 Fox Hunting Club, 268 Fra Diavolo, 263 France, 70, 88, 108, 109, 319, 326, 330, 360; relations with, 88-91 Franco, Francisco, 344 Franklin, General William B., 230 Frazier’s Farm, second battle of, 230 Fredericksburg, 44, 149, 176, 213; battle of, 229 Freedmen’s Bureau, 241,344 Freeman, Joseph M., 245 Freemason Street, 92, 101, 124, 130, 131, 133, 136, 248, 251, 252, 254, 264, 287, 2 93 ’ 2 94 . 352 . 35 8 Freeport Heresy, 200 French Lodge of Wisdom, 89 French Revolution, 84 French Spy, The, 262 French’s Hotel, 140; see also National Hotel Friends of the Norfolk Public Library, 3 8 4 Friendship, 3g Frying-pan shoals, 114 Gaiety Theater, 374 Gallatin, Albert, 98, 151 Galt, Alexander, postmaster, 196 Galt, Alexander, sculptor, 120-121, 377 Galveston, 275, 327 Garcia, John, 23 Garcia, Manuel, 126 Garnet, Colonel William, 140 Garysville, 170 Gas Light Company, see City Gas Light Company Gaston, 171, 178 Gaston and Weldon Railroad, 181 Gates County, N. C., 331 Gatewood, Rev. R., 256 Gay, John, 18 Gazette and Public Ledger, 96, 100, 102, 103, 104, 106, 110, 125, 141, 157 Gazetteer of Virginia, 165, 167 General B. F. Butler, 253, 325 General Cabell, 170 General Mower Corporation, 368 General Washington, 165 George, 43, 87 George III, 48, 50, 53 George Appold, 284 Georgetown, 266 Georgia, 17, 85, 176, 209, 298 German Club, 269 German-Soviet non-aggression pact, 346 Germantown, 208, 212 Germany, 319, 327, 330, 344, 345, 354, 360,380 Gettysburg, 229 Ghent, 28g Ghent, Peace of, 145 Girard College, 224 Givens, Mr., 241 Glasford, John, & Co., 42, 44 Glasgow, 35, 44-46, 50, 51, 64, 76, 88 Glennen, Michael, 256 Glenwood, 309 Godfrey, John, 6 Godfrey, Matthew, 6 Godwin, Mr., 116 Index 403 Goggin, William L., 201 Golden Triangle, 375 Goldsborough, Louis M., 210 Gooch, Governor William, 8, 36, 39, 41, 42 Goode, John, 238 Goodrich, John, 63, 66 Gordan, John D., 196 Gordon, Alexander, go Gordon, Dr. Alexander, 14 Gosport, 45, 63, 64, 70, 72, 85, 113, 142, 164, 191-192, 308 Gosport Creek, 72 Graham, Tildsley, 87 Grain elevator built, 322 Grain trade, 44, 82, 321-322, 327 Granby Family Theatre, Plate XVI Granby Street, 130, 131, 132, 243, 248, 251, 252, 254, 258, 268, 288, 291-294, 3 l6 > 3i7> 3 1 9» 328, 331, 332, 341, 345, 358,361,383,385 Granby Street bridge, 92, 119, 132, 251- 252, 292 Granby Street High School, 342, 351 Grandy, Captain C. R., 229 Grandy, C. Wiley, 352 Grant, Frederick D., 297 Grant, U. S., 231, 241 Granville County, 181 Gratitude, 316 Graves, William A., Jr. 266 Great Bridge, 54, 55, 65, 66, 103, 185, 229, 238; battle at, 56-59; chapel at, 23 Great Britain, 3, 33, 34, 35, 42, 44, 45, 46, 68, 76, 81, 276, 326, 327, 346; relations with, 98-109, 145-153 Greeley, Horace, 205 Green, Paul, 382 Greenville, N. C., 275 Greensville County, 167 Gregory, 277 Grenada, 37, 46, 90 Grenville, George, 48, 49 Gresham, S. S., Jr., 267 Gresham, W. H., 267 Grew, Joseph, 354 Griffen, George, 254 Grigsby, Hugh Blair, 92, 119-120, 124, 270 Guadeloupe, 39, 40, 84, 85, 87, 190 Guernsey, 41 Guerriere, 164 Guinea, 32, 45 Gwynn’s Island, Dunmore’s camp at, 66- 67 Gygax, Admiral Felix X., 357 Haddington Building, 292; Plate XII Hagen Stellung, 312 Hague, the, 289, 377, 378 Halifax, 89, 148, 150, 152 Halifax County, N. C., 159, 161, 172, 175, 180 Halstead, F. M., 267 Halstead, Richard, 120 Hamburg, 330 Hamilton, Bermuda, 145 Hamilton, Alexander, 81 Hamilton, Colonel John, 92 Hamlet, 119 Hammond, 63 Hampton, 63, 192, 195, 201 Hampton Boulevard, 339, 347, 348, 350, 356, 366 Hampton Roads, 31, 37, 44, 46, 63, 87, 88, 99, 100-102, 105, 111-113, 151, 210, 214-216, 277, 283, 294-295, 298, 300, 3 °i, 3 0 3 - 3 0 7 . 326, 327, 330, 347, 354, 356 , 359 - 3 6 o. 365-369 Hampton Roads bridge-tunnel, 366-367 Hampton Rough and Ready Club, 199 Handel, Joseph, 117 Hanover Court House, battle of, 230 Hansford, Mrs., 122 Happy Return, 95 Hardy, Fred, 266 Hardy, J. M., 267 Hardy, W. C., 266 Hardy house, 293 Hare Building, 258 Harmony, 218 Harpers Ferry, 176, 230 Harriot, 99 Harris, John, 69 Harris, Kenneth, 380 Harris, Winder R., 336 Harrison, Benjamin, 78 Harrison, William Henry, igg Harrison, W. T., 237 Harvard College, 224 Hatch, J. D., 380 Hatteras, 284 Hatton, John G. H., ig6 Haumont, 313 Havana, 22, 40, 90, 108, 282 Hawaii, 353 Hayne, Colonel Robert Y., 116, 155-156 Health Department, City, 372 Health protection, 325-326 Hebrew, John A., 266 Hebrew Union, 233 Hemenway School, 255 Henrico, 3 Henrico Rifles, 111 Henry, Patrick, 80 Henry Street, 295 Herald and Norfolk and Portsmouth Advertiser, 87, 95, 103, 118, 121, 125, 129, 131, 132, 141, 146, 147, 149-152, 161, 168, 173, 188, 198, 200, 203, 205 4°4 Index Hershaw and Company, 179 Hesdigrieuf, 314 Heslett, William, 6 Heutte, Frederic, 382-383 Hibernian, 276 Hicksford Junction (Emporia), 171 High school, public, opened, 255-256 High Street, Portsmouth, 72, 169, 170 Highways, Virginia Department of, 367 Hill Street, 117 Hinton, Colonel J. W., 238, 266 Hiroshima, 360 History of the Dividing Line, The, 25 Hitler, Adolph, 344, 345, 346, 360 Hoboken, i6g, 311 Hodge, 46 Hodges, Mrs. E. B., 336 Hodges, Mary, 6 Hodges, Thomas, 6 Hoffman, Judge Walter E., 387, 391 Hofheimer, Henry Clay, II, 384 Holt, John, 53-54, 141 Holt, Mayor John E., 122 Holt, Saxon W., Jr., 336 Holt Street, 137, 130, 2^4, 371 Holt Street bridge, 261 Holt’s Lane, 131 Homicide rate, 324-325 Hook and Ladder Company, 253 Hoover, Herbert C., 333 Hope, James Barron, 256 Hope Hose Company, 253 Hopkins, Mr., 66 Hopkins, Harry, 341 Hornet, 17 Horse racing, see Racing Horton, Minnie, 267 Hosmer, Jean, 262 Hospital expansion, 358, 372 Hospital Point, 209 Housing and Home Finance Agency, 373 Housing Authority, Norfolk, 349, 370 Housing projects, 371 Housing shortage, in First World War, 309; in Second World War, 348, 349, 355-357 Houston, 325 Howard, General O. O., 241 Howard Association, 195, 196, 223 Howe, Colonel Robert, 52, 57, 59-61, 63- 64 Howe, Walter Edward, 380 Hubard, James R., 204 Hudson River, 166 Huff, John M., 371 Huger, General Benjamin, 210, 216 Huger Battery, 229 Hughes, Robert M., Jr., 332 Humble Sons of God, 233 Hume, Paul, 382 Humphrey, Captain, 100 Hunchback, 119 Hunter, John, 63 Hunter, Dr. William, 14 Hunter’s shipyard, 131 Huntersville, 260, 288 Hunting, 268 Huntington, Collis P., 277 Hunton Branch, Y. M. C. A., 385 Hustings, James, 19 Hutchings, John, 6g Hutchings, Zachariah, 39 Hygeia hotel, 294-295 Iago, 262 Ickes, Harold, 338-340 Idaho, 329 Illinois, 140 Imecourt, 315 Immigrants, opposition to, igg-200 Impressment of American sailors, g8- 100, 103 Independence Hall, 298 Independent Grays, 229 Independent Society, 233 Independent Volunteers, 123 Indian Creek, 42 Indian Pole Bridge, 268 Industrial Park, Norfolk, 372 Industry, 42 Inman, John H., 278, 279 Inoculation, 13 International Azalea Court, 383-384 Irish Widow, The, 117 Isaac Bell, 284 Isle of Pines, 96, 109 Isle of Wight County, 80, 285, 355, 369 Italy, 260, 326, 327, 330, 354, 360 Jack, slave, 10 Jack Cade, 262 Jackson, Andrew, 115, 151 Jackson, T. J., 230 Jackson Street, 252 Jacksonville, 326 Jacobin Clubs, 90 Jacobins, 65 Jaffe, Louis I., 393 Jail, county, 5, 11, 15; town, 11, 75; city, 132 , 373.374 Jamaica, 38, 40, 41, 44-46, 51, 77, 84, 85, 8 7, 95-97. 107. 108, 146, 151, 152, 277 James, Charles E., 254 James River, 25, 27, 38, 42, 43, 46, 57, 60, 76, 83, 114, 158, 162, 167, 174, 176, 178, 179, 182, 213, 214, 216-218, 229, 277, 278, 360 James River and Kanawha canal, 272, 281 Index 405 James River and Kanawha Company, 174-175. 177. 182 Jamestown, 4, 48, 213, 215 Jamestown, 165 Jamestown Exposition of 1907, 296-298, 308 Jamestown Festival, 382 Jamestown Flats, 218 Jamieson, Niel, 37, 44, 45, 63, 66, 74 Janauschek, Fannie, 262-263 Japan, 327, 353 Jarrett, Henry C., 119 Jay, John, 81-82 Jay Treaty, 81-82 J. E. Coffee, 195 Jefferson, Joseph, 119, 263 Jefferson, Thomas, 25, 102, 103, 104, 109, 120 Jenkins, Henry, 19 Jenner, Edward, 188 Jenny, 39 Jeremiah, Negro, 127 Jericho, 353 John Adams, 164 John Barrett, 170 Johnson, Mrs., 25 Johnson, Andrew, 232, 233, 235 Johnson, George, 93 Johnson, George W., 277 Johnson, Herschel V., 201 Johnson, Hugh S„ 335-337 Johnson, James, 80 Johnston, Joseph E., 216, 219 Jones, George, 118 Jones, Hugh, 3 Jones, John, 12 Jordan, J. Parker, 240, 244 Josslin, Richard, 18, 19 Journal, Norfolk, 88, 180, 238, 242-245, 249,251,256,275,281 Journal, Norfolk and Portsmouth, 79, 141 Joyce, John, 46 Juilliard School of Music, 381 Juliet, 263 Junior Chamber of Commerce, 384 Junior Volunteers, 101, 123, 229 Juniper baseball club, 265 Juniper water, 249-250 Kanawha River, 174, 176 Kansas, 200, 309 Kaufman, Charles L., 336 Keeling, R. James, 120 Keene, Laura, 262 Keith, N. S., 370 Kellam, Sidney S., 365 Kellogg Opera Troupe, 263 Kelsall, Roger, 23 Kemps, 33, 54, 55, 58, 65, 66, 103 Kempsville, 59, 114, 185 Kempsville district, 364 Kentucky, 274, 309 Kevill, Thomas, fire chief, 253, 325 Kimball, Vice-president of N. & W., 282 King, George, 254 King, Miles, 80, 92 Kingbird, 39 Kingfisher, 62 King’s Daughters, 335; hospital, 372 King’s Lane, 117 Kingston, 40 Kingston, Jamaica, 41, 87, 88 Kirkby, Arthur M., 385 Kirn, Bessie, 385 Knight, Thomas, 93 Knott, Captain William, 5, 6, 16 Know-Nothing party, 199-200 Knowles, dramatist, 119 Knox, Frank, 351, 353 Koerner, Anton F., 264 Kriemhild Stellung, 312 La Badine, g5 Labor shortages, 307, 309, 359 Lady Walterstoff, 83 Lafayette, General, 116, 122-123 Lafayette Park, 338, 358, 382 Lafayette River, 291,323, 345, 347, 382 Lafayette River bridge: at Coliey Ave¬ nue, 340; at Granby Street, 339-340; at Hampton Boulevard, 339, 350 Lagaudette, Peter, 126 Lake Drummond, 116, 134, 159, 249, 250 Lake Phillips, 320 Lake Prince, 320, 349, 357 Lamb, W. W., Supt. of schools, 255 Lamb, William, exporter, 284 Lamb, Mayor William W., 210, 217, 282 Lambert, Hillary, 87 Lamberts Point, in, 126, 193, 209, 283, 289, 291; coal pier established at, 282 Lancastershire Witch, 40 Landmark, Norfolk, 256, 277 Lane, Joseph, 201 Langford, Menalous, 341 Lankford, Jesse, 169 Laperouse, Jean Pierre, 8g Larchmont, 291 Larchmont School, 338, 386 La Rochefoucauld, 11, 16, 28, 65, 76, 83, 85, 89, 128, 138, 159 Lawrence’s oyster house, 292 Lawson, Colonel, 54, 55 Lawson, Lieutenant Colonel Anthony, 5 Layton, L. L., 390 Leache, Irene, 264 Leache-Wood Alumnae Association, 377 Leache-Wood School, 264 League of Virginia Municipalities, 383 Index 406 Leahy, Admiral William D., 345 LeBreton, Admiral David, 360 Ledger-Dispatch, 256 Lee, Arthur, 138 Lee, General Charles, 65-66 Lee, Fitzhugh, 296 Lee, H. Richard, g2 Lee, Mayor Richard E., 101-102 Lee, Richard H., 138 Lee, Robert E., 210, 216, 219, 230; visits Norfolk, 268-269 Lee Parade, 291,297, 298 Lee Park, 377, 378 Lee’s wharf, 118 Leftwich, General Joel, 110 Le Havre, 330 Leigh, Mrs. James Y., 269 Leigh Memorial Hospital, 358 Leleivie, Gabriel, 88 Lemasurier, Mary, 88 LeMay, General Curtis, 383, 384 LeMay, Patricia Jane, 383 Leonard, Abram F., 120 Leonidas, 109 Leopard, attacks Chesapeake, 100-101 Le Page, E. B., 266 Lepage, Louis, 89 Leslie, Captain, 54, 58, 59 Leslie, General, 71 Lesner’s Garden, 259 Lester, Thomas, 87 Letcher, Governor John, 210 Letters of a South Carolinian, 119 Lewis, General Andrew, 67 Lewis, Armistead, 93 Lewis, Henry, 336 Liberty Loans, 303 Library, Norfolk Public, 264, 294, 377, 384-385; Plate XX Library Association, Norfolk, 294 Library of Congress, 141 Life, 389 Light Artillery Blues, 123, 229, 302, 310, 316 Lincoln, Abraham, 202, 205, 213, 221, 222; visits Norfolk, 217 Lincoln-Douglas debates, 200 Lincoln Street, 370 Linde Air Products Corporation, 310 Lindsay, William, 91 Lindsay’s Retreat, 121 Linkhorn Bay, 296 Linsey’s Gardens, 240 Lisbon, 45 Literature, 119-120 Little Creek, 249, 341 Little Creek Players, 382 Little Rock, 389 Little Theater, 378, 382 Little Water Street, 93, igo, 253, 254 Liverpool, 46, 51, 75, 87, 88, 115, 156, 157, 276, 277, 284 Liverpool, 61, 62, 65 Livestock, 29-30 Locke, Donald R., 362 Loftland, John, 18 London, 3, 12, 21, 42, 45, 46, 75, 81, 86, 8 7 > 97 - 1 15 - 147 . 15 6 - ,68 - 260, 330, 344 London Assurance, ng Longwood College, 382 Look Magazine, 376 Lorillard Steamship wharf; 252 Louisiana, 152, 153 Lovitt, E. H. C., 261 Lovitt Avenue, 255 Lovitt’s New Bridge, 261 Loyal Hunter, 46 Loyall, Captain B. P., 269 Loyall, Mayor Paul, 17, 53 Loyall’s Lane, 126 Lowell, Mass., 223, 224 Lowenburg, M. D., 297 Lowenburg stores, 258 Lower Norfolk County, 4, 5 Ludlow, Mayor John R., 237 Lyme, 32 Lynch, Francis, 87 Lynch, J. C., 266 Lynchburg, 162, 174, 175, 178, 182, 183, 272 Lynnhaven Bay, 113 McAlpine, William J., 249-250 McCarrick, James, 277 McCartney, Captain John, 53 McCauley, Commodore Charles S., 207 McClellan, General George B., 213, 216, 229, 230 McClurg, Dr. D. W., 14 McCormick, Mrs. J. Jett, 378 McCullough, A. A., 251 McCullough, F. W., 290-291 McCullough Lumber Company, 292 McCullough’s wharf, 282 MacDonald, Robert, tot Mace, 9, 81, 140 Macgill, N., 87 McIntosh, George, 87, 266 McIntosh home, 293 Mackenzie, John, 93 McLean, A., 141 McLean, J., 141 McLean, Louis, 151 Maclure, Alexander, 93 McMenamin, James, 266 McMoran, James, 23 McPherson, Duncan, 90 Madden and Whitehurst, 87 Madeira, 14, 45, 87 Madeleine Farm, 315, 317 Index 407 Madison, 165 Madison, James, 25, 76, 77, 78, 79, 109, 145 Madison School, 351 Magnin, Hilarus, 141 Magnolia Gardens, 342 Magruder, General John B., 214, 217 Maguire, Mr., 138 Mahone, William, 183, 229, 230, 272-273 Main Street, 4-7, g, 11, 13, 15, lCT, 31, 32, 35- 53. 6l > 74. 87, 88, 91, 93, 115, 117, 118, 122, 125, 127, 183, igo-193, 220, 233. 235, 248, 252, 254, 263, 268, 276, 287, 288, 291, 294, 316, 319, 341, 350; in 1887, 257-258; Plate XIV; see also East Main Street Maitland, Robert, 93 Malaga, 98 Malbone, Peter, 18 Malbrouck Hill, 313 Mallory, Stephen R., 212 Malvern Hill, 230 Manassas, 213 Manassas, second battle of, 229, 230 Manchester, 229 Manghum, Mason, 336 Manhattan, 166 Mann, General, 234 Manufacturing, 198-199 Margarettsville, 170, 172 Maria, 87, 95 Marine Bank, 258 Marine Hospital, 142, 144, 339 Mariner Street, 133 Market house, 7, 12, 75, 91, 129; new house built, 323, torn down, 375 Market Square, 11, 14, 87, 8g, 101, 115, 122, 127, 129, 131, 133, 190, 234, 253, 269, 288; in 1887, 258-260; see also Commercial Place Market Street, 131, 323 Markets, 134-135 Marmont Farm, 312 Marne, battle of the, 300 Mars, 109 Mars Hill, 119 Marsden, John, 23 Marshall, Major, 57 Marshall, Richard M., 354-355 Martha Johnson, 87 Martin, Colonel James G., IV, 388 Martin, Joseph, dancing master, 122 Martin, Joseph, gazetteer, 130, 131, 165, 167 Martin, William, 254 Martinique, 40, 84, 85 Mary and Jane, 51 Mary Washington College, 381 Maryland, 27, 43, 44, 45, 47, 77, 78, 113, 157, 176, 198, 228, 298, 330, 335 Maryland baseball club, 266 Mason, George, 79 Mason, Stephen T., 82 Mason County, 175 Mason’s Creek, 348 Mason’s store, 47 Massachusetts, 78, 298 Massachusetts charter, overriding of, 50- 5 1 Mathews, Thomas, 79, 80, go Mathews County, 66, 192 Matone’s Garden, 117 Maury, Walker, 136 Maury High School, 319, 351, 389, 392 Maxwell, Captain, 80 Maxwell, Mrs., 24 Maxwell, James, 16, 56, 6g Maxwell, Thomas F., 373, 391 Maxwell, William, 149 Maxwell, William, poet, 120 Maxwell Street, 131 Mayflower, 297 Mechanics Hall, 117, 132, 144, 205 Mecklenburg County, Va., 161, 181 Medical Arts Center, 372 Medical Office Tower, 372 Meherrin River, 161 Memphis, Tenn., 251, 274, 324 Memphis and Charleston Railroad, 272 Mercer, Joseph, 18 Mercer, Thomas, 18 Merchant Street, 92 Merchants and Miners line, 285 Mercury, 53 Merrimac, 207, 208, 212, 213; see also Virginia Merrimack Park, 349 Metcalf Lane, 131 Methodist Church, 133, 136, 137, 144, •55 Methuselah, 160 Meuse River, 312, 315, 316 Middle Street, Portsmouth, 72 Middlesex County, 80 Middleton Place, 342 Miles, Mrs. Marian Carpenter, 380 Military highway, 358 Miller, Dr. William, 13 Minnesota, 309 Minnesota, 214-216 Minute Men, 203 Mississippi, 329 Mississippi Inlet, 261 Mississippi River, 182 Mitchell, Joseph, 23 Mitchell, Maggie, ng, 263 Mitchell’s Lane, 129 Mobile, 193 Molasses Act, 48 Molly, 40, 46, 51 Index 408 Monitor, 215-216 Monroe, James, 124, 149 Montague, Captain, 21 Montague, Andrew J., 297 Montaign Farm, 314 Montgomery, Ala., 204 Monticello, 209 Monticello Avenue, 323, 341,370, 375 Monticello Hotel, 293; Plate XIII Moore, shortstop, 265 Moore, P. T„ 266 Moore, Tom, 128 Moore’s Bridges, 249, 250; Plate VIII Morgan, Captain Jeremiah, 17 Morris, Gouverneur, 81 Morton, Major General Charles G., 311 Moscow, burning of, 218 Moseley, 46 Moseley, Edward, 6 Moseley, Edward H., 4g Mosley, Colonel, 20, 21 Mottu, J. A. P., 381 Mowbray Arch, 377, 378 Municipal Airport, 341, 345, 354, 368, 383 Municipal government, establishment of first, 7-8 Municipal Public Health Center, 372 Munn, Russell, 384 Murdoch, James E., 119 Murdock, Ferguson, 37 Murrow, Edward R., 389 Murray, K. C., superintendent of schools, 255 Museum of Arts and Sciences, 338, 340, 342 . 343 - 345 . 377 - 3 80 Museum of Nature, 121 Music Festival, Virginia, 381 Muter, George, 6g Myers, Mayor Barton, 278, 279, 283, 321 Myers, Moses, 92, 93, 124, 163 Myers, Vernon C., 376 Myers house, 256, 353, 380 Nag’s Head, 185, 211 Nancy, 39 Nansemond County, 3, 61, 80, 106, 167, 285-320, 33 *• 349 - 355 Nansemond River, 33, 112, 216, 249, 321 Nantes, 70 Nantillois, 315 Napoleon, 95, 104, log Napoleon, Louis, 116 Nash, Thomas, 6 Nash, Thomas, Jr., 18 Nashville, 279 National Bank of Commerce, 333 National Guard, 302-303 National Hotel, 132, 196, 201, 248, 374; see also French’s Hotel National Municipal League, 376 National Recovery Administration, 335- 337 Nautilus, 127 Naval Academy, 384 Naval Air Station, 345, 346, 349 Naval Base, 307-308, 309, 322, 323, 328, 329- 339 - 345 - 347 - 35 °. 35 G 35 6 Naval Board of Virginia, 69 Naval Hospital, Portsmouth, 111, 132, 143 - * 44 - 3°9 Naval Overseas Transportation Service, 305-306 Navigation Acts, 41 Navy Department, U. S., 104, 307, 345, 353 Navy Yard, ig2, 211-213, 308, 309, 328, 329. 339 - 345 - 347 - 356. 357 - 359 ; founded, 164-165; seized by Confeder¬ acy, 207-209; evacuated by Confeder¬ acy, 217-218 Navy Yard of Virginia, 69 Nebraska Street, 11, 248 Ned, Negro, 127 Negroes: regulation of, 10; uprising by, 126-127; as soldiers, 219-220, 225; in Reconstruction, 233-246; see also Slavery Neilson, Lillian Adelaide, 263 Neuse River, 185 Neutrality Act, 344 Nevada, 301 Nevis, 35, 37, 38, 84, 95, 151, 152 New Bedford, 115 New England, 87, 146, 283, 304, 330, 359; trade, 35, 37, 41 New Orleans, 158, 193, 275; battle of, 115; Butler’s rule in, 222, 223 New Regime, The, 142 New River Railway, 273, 281 New York, 67, 68, 71, 78, 83, 91, 95, 97, 107, 115, 146, 156-158, 162, 163, 165, 166, 168, 176, 178, 191-193, 207, 208, 214-216, 260, 285, 289, 2gg, 303, 304, 322, 330, 359; steamship lines to, 284- 285; trade rivalry with, 153-157 New York Evening Post, 282, 286-287 New York, Philadelphia, and Norfolk Railroad, 280 New York Tribune, 212 New Zealand, 326 Newburn, 165 Newcombe. John F., 278 Newell, John, Jr., 124 Newport, R. I., 72 Newport News, 110, 213, 214, 277, 283, 297. 3 00 > 3 01 > 304. 3 ° 7 > 3 * 3 - 3 l6 > 3 2 7 - 369 Newspapers, 141-142, 256 Newsweek, 375 Index 409 Newton, George, 6, 122 Newton, Nathaniel, 6, 19 Newton, Thomas, Jr., 65, 6g, 71, 124, 138, 148, 149, 150, 153 Newton, 54 Newton home, 293, 294 Newton home, old, 292 Newton’s Creek, 4, 5, 33, 92, 260, 261 Niagara, 284 Nivison, John, gi Nixon’s circus, 268 Noe’s Bridge, 261 Non-Intercourse Act, 108-iog Norfolk and Carolina Railroad, 278, 279 Norfolk and Great Western Railroad, 279,281 Norfolk and Petersburg Railroad, 182- 185, 209, 216, 261,268, 271, 272 Norfolk and Southern Railroad, 278, 296 Norfolk and Western Railroad, 4, 185, 258, 273, 281-283, 289, 326, 369; grade crossing at Colonial Avenue, 302; see also Atlantic, Mississippi, and Ohio Railroad Norfolk County, 5, 22, 27, 61, 66, 68, 71, 80, 167, 285, 331, 351, 356, 357, 363-365 Norfolk Division, College of William and Mary, 340, 382, 385-387 Norfolk Division, Virginia State College, 385 Norfolk Education Association, 388 Norfolk General Hospital, 358, 372 Norfolk-Hampton Roads Company, 297 Norfolk Knitting and Cotton Manufac¬ turing Company, 261 Norfolk National Bank, 258 Norfolk Rough and Ready Club, 199 Norfolk Shipbuilding and Dry Dock Company, 310 Norma, 262 North Africa, invasion of, 356, 360 North Anna River, battle of, 230 North Carolina, 18, 26, 29, 40, 47, 61, 88, 113, 114, 156, 176, 198, 209, 210, 225, 229, 278, 280, 283, 285, 286, 330, 331, 335; annexation to, 178-179, 183, 184; trade with, 30-35, 76, 91, 158, 164; troops from, 57, 5g North Carolina, 165 North Carolina Railway, 274, 275 North Carolina Supreme Court, 173 North Landing, 114 North River, 114, 185 North West River, 34 Northampton County, N. C., 167 Northampton County, Va., 80, 331 Northumberland County, 286 Northwestern Virginia Railway, 177 Norview High School, 389 Norway, 304 Nottoway, 170 Nottoway River, 161, 358 Oak Grove, 192, 229, 230 Obolinski, Prince, 269 Ocean View, 217, 249, 28g, 323, 328, 340, 35°> 3 6 7. 375- 3 8 5; development of, 295 Ocean View Boulevard, 338 Ocean View Elementary School, 340, 342, 35i Ocean View Hotel, 295 Ocean View jetty, 339, 342, 345 Ocean View Railroad Company, 295 Ocracoke inlet, 30, 32, 33, 41 Odd Fellows’ Hall, 259, 261 “Ode to the Virginian Voyage,” 382 Odum, J. B., 18 i Office of Defense Transportation, 358 Ohio Creek, 323 Ohio River, 174-177, 198 Old Coffee House, 122 Old Dominion line, 285 Old Point Comfort, 3, 201, 209, 214-216, 224, 262, 294, 295, 367 Oliver, T. S., 290 Olney Road, 289, 371 O’Neale, Captain, 157 One-hundred-eleventh Field Artillery, 3 10 > 3 l6 One-hundred-fifteenth Infantry Regi¬ ment, 312 One-hundred-sixteenth Infantry Regi¬ ment, 310-313, 316 Opera, 262 Opera House, 119, 201, 209, 261, 263, 267 Orataro, 36 Orinoco tobacco, 3, 27 Ormont Farm, 313 Ornes, 312 O’Rourke, James, 266 Osborne’s warehouse, 45 Osthagen, Clarence S., 369 Otter, 53, 62, 65, 67 Page, Thomas Nelson, 297 Page and Allen’s shipyard, 165, 191 Pakenham, General, 115 Pamlico Sound, 30, 32, 33, 41, 114, 160, 185, 210, 211, 286 Panama, 326 Panchon, pitcher, 265 Paradise Creek, 309 Paris, 168, 260 Park Avenue, 255, 261 Park Place, 291 Parker Street, 92 Parkersburg, 175, 177 Parks, Hattie, 26g Parliament, 41,64, 149 Pasquotank precinct, 34 Index 410 Pasquotank River, 29, 34, 159, 167 Pasteur, James, 23, 24 Patapsco River, 168 Patrick Henry, i6g, 213-215 Patti, Adelina, 117 Patton, General George S., Jr., 356 Paulding, Rear Admiral, 208 Pawnee, 208 Peace and Plenty, 63 Peanut growing, 285 Pearl Harbor, 353, 354, 361 Pearl of Savoy, The, 263 Pearle, 32 Pedrick, John, 10 Pe ggy> 39 - 46 . 50 Peirpoint, Francis H., 221-225, 227, 232- 235 . 271 Pender Building, 354 Peninsula, invasion of the, 216, 229 Pennock, William, 93, 124, 163 Pennsylvania, 27, 83, 176, 198, 228, 298 Pennsylvania, 207, 208 Pennsylvania Railroad, 280, 286 Pepper’s, 271 Pericles, 118 Perquimans precinct, 35 Perquimans River, 31,33 Perry, 165 Pershing, General John J., 312, 313 Petersburg, 44, 76, 78, 79, 82, 83, 91, 101, in, 114, 122, 149, 158, 162, 164, 168- 169, 175, 176, 183, 192, 207, 229, 240, 265. 277, 303, 313; siege of, 229 Petersburg, 161 Petersburg and Roanoke Railroad, 167, 171-173- 179 - 182 Petersburg Intelligencer, 168, 181 Phaeton, 18 Phi Beta Kappa Hall, 382 Phidias, 118 Philadelphia, 25, 40, 79, 81, 83, 86, 88, 91, 130, 140, 146, 163, 165, 166, 168, 193, 281, 284, 285, 299, 310, 322, 327 Philharmonic Association, 117 Philipia bay, 97 Phillips, General, 72 Philips, Daniel, 10 Phillips, Josiah, 71 Phoebus, Mr., 294 Phoenix, 87 Phripp, Matthew, 54 Piedmont railway, 275 Pierce, Franklin, 199 Pierce, Thomas W., 245 Pilot Boy, 218 Pine Beach,308 Pineapple, 40 Pinner’s Point, 209, 278-280, 289, 366 Pioneer, 164 Pitt, William, 50, 76 Pittsylvania County, 175 Piracy, 32-33 Planning Commission, 362-363 Planter, 109 Platt, James H., 239-243 Pleasant Valley, Md., 230 Pleasure-driving ban, 356 Plume, William, 124 Plume & Company’s Rope and Oakum Works, 144 Plume Street, 131,251, 293, 341 Plymouth, 208, 212, 218 Pocahontas, 3, 298 Pocahontas coal region, 273, 281, 282 Poe, Edgar Allan, 117, 377 Poems, Patriotic, Religious and Miscel¬ laneous, 120 Poetry, 120 Poets’ Comer, 378 Point Peter, 190 Point Pleasant, battle of, 67 Poland, Hitler’s attack on, 346 Police protection, 9-10, 253-255, 324, 325 Polish Corridor, 346 Pollard, Joseph A., police chief, 255 Polly, 39 Polytechnic Institute, Norfolk, 385 PM, 352 Pope, General John, 230 Port Authority, Norfolk, 368 Port Authority, Virginia State, 327, 369 Port Republic, 87 Port-au-Prince, 96 Porten, William, county clerk, 5 Porter, John L., 213 Porter and Dyson, 165 Portland, Me., 282 Portlock, 358 Portsmouth, 22, 33, 53, 61, 65, 66, 68, 70- 73, 75, 84-86. 91, 97, 113, 126, 142, 144, 154, 165, 168-171, 180-182, 192, 201, 202, 207, 209, 224, 226, 227, 229, 230, 260, 266, 268, 275, 280, 289, 300, 304, 3 ° 5 > 3 ° 9 - 32 °. 35 6 - 357 - 3 66 Portsmouth and Weldon Railroad, see Seaboard and Roanoke Railroad Portsmouth Baptist Church, 137 Portsmouth Grays, 170 Portsmouth parish, 23 Portsmouth Rough and Ready Club, >99 Portugal, 107 Poscaty region, 34 Post, Norfolk, 158, 248, 254, 256, 264 Potomac, 347 Potomac Boat Club, 266 Potomac River, 3, 27, 38, 43, 67, 76, 158, 177, 230, 266, 286 Powell, Grace, 18 Powell's Point, 31 Index 411 Powhatan, 157, 165 Powtomac creek, 157 Presbyterian Church, 132, 137, 139, 144 Pretlow, Mary Denson, Branch Library, • 3 8 5 Price, Mr., igo, 191 Price, Thomas, 16 Prince of Wales, 87 Princess Anne Country Club, 296 Princess Anne County, 5, 14, 20, 27, 30, 54, 55, 61, 66, 68, 71, 80, 121, 135, 199, 217, 225, 229, 249, 261, 285, 331, 356, 357 - 363-365 Princess Anne Hotel, 296 Princess Anne Road, 61, 8g, 111,289 Prison, see Jail Privateering, 38-40, 90, 95-97 Proby, Paul, 16 Providence, R. I., 130, 285 Public Ledger, 256; for earlier news¬ paper, see Gazette and Public Ledger Public Library, see Library, Norfolk Public Public Relations Institute, 364 Public Safety Building, 374; Plate XX Public schools, 255, 325, 351, 387-394 Public Works Administration, 338-343, 379 . 386 Ptditzer prize, 393 Purcell House, 258 Quarles, C. H., 267 Quartermaster General, 321 Quashabee, cook, 20 Quebec, 40, 107 Queen Street causeway, 261 Quigley, Chief Yeoman, 302 Race riots, 233-235 Racing, 121, 267-268 Railroads, 166-187, 271-283, 369 Raleigh, N. C., 178, 213, 274 Raleigh and Augusta Railroad, 275 Raleigh and Gaston Railroad, 180-181, 274,275 Raleigh Square, 298 Ramsey, Dr. George, 14 Randolph, Edward, 28 Randolph, George W., 217 Randolph, Sir John, 8 Randolph, John, of Roanoke, 120 Ranger, 39, go Rannie, Mr., 117 Rappahannock River, 43, 44, 76 Rationing, 355-356 Ravanche de Cerf, 109 Ravin de Molleville, 313 Real Estate Board, 348 Reams, E. H., 282 Reconstruction, 232-246 Reconstruction Finance Corporation, 333 Recreation, for servicemen, 351-352 Red Italia, 314 Redevelopment and Housing Authority, Norfolk, 369-376; Plates XVIII and XIX Redwood, John, 6 Reed, Dr. and Mrs. Thomas H., 363, 364 Reed, Walter, 189, 197 Reed Street, 92 Reid, Governor, 181 Reid, Charles, 184 Reid, William, 181, 196 Reid and Soulter, 181 Relief Association, Norfolk, 332 Relief for the unemployed, 332-335 Rennert Building, 375; Plate XIX Republican Blues, 101 Republicans, 201-202 Resolution, 95 Retail Dealers Association, 335 Reval, 276, 277 Revenge, 97 Revolution, American, 40, 48-73, 103 Reynolds Brothers, 284; warehouse, 276 Rhode Island, 36, 79 Rhonnald, Alexander, 23 Richard III, 118 Richmond, 44, 76, 82, 88, 91, 108, 110, 111, 114, 123, 149, 157, 158, 161, 162, 165, 167, 174, 175-177, 182, 184, 186, 192, 193, 195, 210, 213, 216-218, 232, 273’ 275’ 277, 278, 296, 319, 326, 336, 369, 381-383, 385, 387; evacuation of, 121; secession convention in, 205-206; trade rivalry with, 167-175, 272; trol¬ ley cars in, 288 Richmond, 164 Richmond, Earl of, 64 Richmond and Danville Railroad, 182, 272, 274, 278, 279 Richmond and Petersburg Railroad, 179, 180 Richmond Dispatch, 210, 256 Richmond Enquirer, 277 Richmond, Fredericksburg, and Poto¬ mac Railroad, 172, 179, 180 Richmond Grays, 207 Richmond Light Infantry Blues, 101, 164 Richmond Times, 176 Richmond Times-Dispatch, 375-376 Ricks and Milhado, 284 Riddick, Willis, 80 Ridgeway, 181 Riffand's Garden, 116 Rip Van Winkle, 263, 353 Rives, Captain Francis E., 172-173 Roanoke, 162, 165, 214 412 Index Roanoke dock, 253 Roanoke inlet, 30 Roanoke Island, 211,212, 229 Roanoke River, 34, 114, 160-162, 167, 169, 170-172, 181, 182, 271 Roanoke Sound,30 Roanoke Square, 234 Roanoke Valley Railroad, 181 Robert Gatewood School, 342 Roberts, William D., 196 Roberts Park, 371 Robertson, Moses, 23 Robertson and Sully, 116 Robinson, Patrick, 72 Robinson, Captain William, 5 Rochambeau, General, 73 Rochelle and Smith, 172 Rocketts, 84, 178, 277 Roebuck, 67 Rogers, Colonel George T., 229 Rogers, H. H., 282-283 Rogers, Samuel, 19 Rolfe, John, 3 Roosevelt, Franklin D., 333, 335, 340, 344, 346, 347 Roosevelt, Theodore, 297 Roper, Mayor Albert L., 321 Rosainville’s Bower, 121 Roscoe, William, 120 Ross, Alexander, 18 Rothery’s Lane, 87 Rouke, Johnny, 134 Rowing, 266-267 Royall, Mrs. Anne, 127, 129, 134, 142 Royster Building, 293, 294, 314 Rudd, William, 23 Ruffner Junior High School, 351 Rush, Richard, 147 Russia, 304 Russians, visit of, 263, 26g Ryan, Abram Joseph, Father, 120, 377 Ryan and Gayle, 165 Sable Island, 284 St. Augustine, 55, 68 St. Bartholomew’s, 108 St. Christopher, 37, 39 St. George, Bermuda, 145 St. Helena Extension, College of William and Mary, 386 St. Jago de Cuba (Santiago) , 108 St. James Hotel, 258 St.John's, 148, 150, 152 St. Lawrence, 164, 214 St. Luke’s Church, 341 St. Martin’s, 39 St. Mary’s, 27, 137 St. Mihiel salient, 314 St. Nazaire, 311,314 St. Patrick’s Church, 144 St. Paul’s Church, 92, 135-136, 143, 259, 377; Plate VI: see also Church, Norfolk Parish St. Thomas, 41, 191 St. Vincent de Paul Hospital, 259, 358 St. Vincent’s, 46 Salisbury, N. C., 274 Sally, 40 Salusbury, L. C., 267 Salvation Army, 332, 334 Sammer, France, 314 Samogneux, 312, 313 Sampson, Captain, 51 San Domingo, 37, 40, 41, 85, 96, 137; refugees from, 88-8g San Francisco, 300 Sanborn, Lieutenant, killed, 221 Sandwich, Earl of, 64 Sangster’s, 248 Sanspareil, go Santegan, Louis, 88 Sapin,107 Sarah, 96 Saratoga, 284 Sardo and Company, 262 Savannah, 109, 193, 275, 285 Sawtelle, Colonel, 227 Sawyer’s ferry, 34 Sayer’s Point, 33, 35 Schenkman, Edgar, 381-382 Schiller, J. C. F. von, 263 Schofield, General John M., 235, 237, 241 School of Scandal, 117 Schools, Public, see Public Schools Schwarzkopf, A. B., 336 Schweitzer, Paul, 392-393 Scotland, 25, 45, 46, 190 Scotland Neck, 114, 160 Scott, John P., 140 Sculpture, 120-121 Seaboard Air Line, 369 Seaboard and Roanoke Railroad, 167- 173, 179-184, 209, 211, 216, 271, 274, 275, 278: station, 268 Seaboard Boat Club, 266 Seaboard Citizens National Bank, 334 Sea-Horse, 164 Seawell. Leon T., 336 Secession movement, 202-205 Second Infantry Division, 315 Secret of Cuilde Court, 263 Segar, A. S., 242, 243 Seine River, 168 Selden, Dr. Samuel, 294 Selden, Dr. William, 294 Selma, N. C., 279, 280 Senate, U. S., 82 Senate, Virginia, 184 Seven Pines, 22g Index 4i3 Seventy-ninth Division, 313 Seventy-seventh Infantry Division, 315 Sewells Point, 209, 213, 214, 218, 283, 289, 297, 304, 306, 308 Sewells Point Road, 350 Sewerage, 250-251 Shakespeare, William, 119 Shallote island, 40 Sharp, Charles, 277 Sharpsburg, 229, 230 Shaw,John,53 She Stoops to Conquer, 262 Sheffield, George W., 141 Shenandoah Valley, 175-177, 230 Shepherd, Solomon, 80 Shipbuilding, 41-43, 77 , 85, 86, 146, 164- 165, 308, 359 Shockoes, 83 Shortages, in First World War, 306-307; in Second World War, 355-359 Sicily, 87 Sikes, Levi, 61 Simpson, Francis, 6 Sims, Admiral W. S., 301 Sixteenth Irish Division, 314 Sixth Virginia Regiment, 229-231 Sizemore, Samuel, 6 Sketches of Norfolk, 198 Skorup, J. J„ Jr„ 335, 336 Slaughter, Dr. Augustine, 139 Slave trade, 38 Slavery, in Norfolk, 127, 197-198 Sloane, Mrs. William, 377-379 Slum clearance, 370-373 Smallpox, 13; inoculation against, 188- 189 Smith, Mr., 241 Smith, Mr., of the Borough Tavern, 81 Smith, Brenda Lee, 389 Smith, Charles, 13, 23 Smith, Captain John, 298 Smith, Meriwether, 78 Smith, Peter, first resident, 5 Smith, Peter, and Company’s store, 288 Smith, Samuel, 6 Smith, W. A., 274 Smith, Captain William, 49 Smith Harbor, 298 Smith’s Creek, 111, 260-261, 287-289 Socials, 265 Society of Arts, Norfolk, 377-378 Society of Constitutional and Govern¬ mental Support, 90 Sons of Houn, 233 Sons of Liberty, 49 Sophia, 87 South Carolina, 40, 85, 155, 203, 210, 229, 260, 342, 383 South Mountain, 230 South Norfolk, 289, 363, 388 Southampton, 165 Southampton County, 167 Southern Branch, 33-35, 53, 54, 56, 57, 103, 114, 159, 163, 164, 183, 212, 250, 339, 345, 350; see also Elizabeth River Southern Department, Continental Army, 65 Southern Literary Messenger, 119 Southern Railway, 279, 280 Southern Rights Association, 203 Southgate, John, 93 Southgate’s wharf, igo Southside Railroad, 182-184, 272, 273 Spain, 14, 25, 344 Spangenberg, Bishop, 35 Spaniards, riot over, 22 Sparrows, Smith, 42 Spaulding, James, 11 Speddin, Robert, 63, 66 Sports, 121, 265-268 Spotswood, Governor Alexander, 23, 32- 33.41 Spotsylvania, 228-230 Springfield, 254 Springfield, Ohio, 319 Sprowle, Andrew, 40, 53, 63, 66 Stamp Act, 49-50, 52 Standard Oil Company, 310 Standish, 266 Stanhope, Major F. W., 235 Stanton, Edwin M., 213, 217, 222, 225 Stapleton, Mr., 193 State Department, U. S., 354 Staunton, 175, 291, 319 Staunton River, 161, 181 Steamboats, effect on trade, 157-158 Steiner, Richard L., 374 Stephens, Colonel, 59 Sterling, Maggie, 267 Stewart, Robert, 71 Stevens, Ebenezer, g Stevens, S. A., furniture house, 292; see also Ames and Stevens Stevens, Thaddeus, 232, 235 Stock market crash of 1929, 328-329 Stockley Gardens, 261 Stockton, Cal., 323 Strange, John D., 141 Strasburg, 276 Street lights, 133, 252-253 Streetcars, 288-290; Plate IX Streets, maintenance of, 9, 130, 252, 319- 320, 342 Stringer, John, 80 Stuyvesant, Peter, 298 Styx, 262 Suburban and City Railway, 288 Suburban development, 6, 287-291 Sudetenland, 344 414 Index Suffolk, 33, 44, 57, 61, 70, 106, 169, 170, 171, 183, 192, 239, 240, 265, 278, 300, 3i3 Sugar Act, resistance to, 48-49 Sugar trade, 35-38, 153-154, 330 Sukey and Juno, 87 Sully, Mr., 118 Sumner, 97 Supreme Court, U. S., 337, 387 Supreme Court of Appeals, Virginia, 364. 39° Surry County, 44 Susan, 109 Susanna, 39 Sussex County, 167 Swallow, 46 Swanson, Claude A., 297, 321 Sweden, 108, 304 Sweetscented tobacco, 3, 27 Swetlana, 26g Swift and Co., 290 Swindell, James H., 117 Sykes, Mr., 241 Symphony, Norfolk, 380-382 Syracuse, N. Y., 193 Tabb, Mayor Thomas, 232, 234, 248, 271 Tabb, Thomas C., superintendent of schools, 255 Tabor, Dr. Thomas, 6 Talbot, Isaac, 165 Talbot, Captain Thomas, 15 Talbot House, 358 Talbot Park, 358 Talbot Street, 15, 117, 129 Taliaferro, General William B., 207, 209 Talou Hill, 312 Taming of the Shrew, The, 262 Tanner’s Creek, 64, 65, 111, 209, 217, 289, 291; see also Lafayette River Tanner's Creek district, 363-364 Tar River, 185 Tarboro, 278 Tar-burning, 28 Tariff, 152-153 Tasso, Torquato, 93 Tatnall, Flag-Officer Josiah, 216, 218 Tatum, Captain Nathaniel, 12, 42 Taussig, Admiral Joseph K., 347-348, 352 Taverns, 18-19, 91 Taylor, James, 80, 87 Taylor, Dr. James, 92 Taylor, Jennie, 267 Taylor, General Robert B., 91, 111, 122, 124, 270; Plate IV Taylor, Colonel W. H., 242 Taylor, Mayor W. R. L., 338-340 Taylor, Zachary, 199 Taylor Building, 292; Plate XII Tazewell, L. W., 266 Tazewell, Littleton W., 91, 102, 124, 138, 270 Tazewell house, 143, 293 Tazewell Street, 293, 323 Tea Act, 50; Norfolk’s opposition to, 51 Teach, William (Blackbeard), 32-33 Teneriffe, 87 Tennessee, 260, 280 Terminal development, 322, 369 Texas, 309 Thames, 168 Theater, 117-119, 261-264,382 Theseus, temple of, 140 Third British Army, 314 Thirtieth Illinois Regiment, 248 Thirtieth Regiment, 234 Thirty-fourth English Division, 314 Thirty-ninth Illinois Regiment, 265 Thirty-seventh Street pumping station, 358 Thirty-third Division, 312, 314 Thomas, Charles, 39 Thomas and Sarah, 46 Thompson, Fergus, 6 Thompson, John, 39 Thompson, Philip R., 139 Thompson, Randall, 382 Thompson, Thomas P., city manager, 339- 340. 348 Thorne, Jennie, 267 Thoroughgood, Adam, House, 353 Thorowgood’s Farm, 121 Three Blind Mice, 262 Three-hundred-eighteenth Infantry Regiment, 313-316 Throckmorton, R. J., 336 Thruston, Malachi, 6 Thuillier, Mr., 122 Tidewater Artists, 378 Tidewater Drive, 367 Tidewater Educational Foundation, 388 Tidewater Ministerial Union, 332 Tidewater Park, 371 Tidewater Terminals, Norfolk, Inc., 322 Tidewater Virginia Development Coun¬ cil, 369 Timber cutting, 29 Timberlake, James B., & Co., 87 Titustown schools, 351 Tobacco trade, 3, 27-28, 43-44, 82-83, 327.330 Tobago, 95 Tokyo, 354 Toomer, Captain James H., 230 Toomoth, James, 11 Toomoth, Mary, 11 Topham, Augustus, 99 Tories in Norfolk, 52-63, 69-73 Tournaments, 267 Index 4»5 Town Bridge, 8, g, 12, 131 Town Hall, 79, 90, 99, 100, 122, 149, 152 Town Point, 52, 62, 80, 81, 87, 128, 183, 190, 191, 194, 248 Towns, acts to create, 4 Townshend, Charles, 50, 52 Trade, 27-47, 75-87, 104-109, 113-115, 145-171, 186-187, 271-287, 300-301, 303-306, 326-327, 330, 368-369 Traffic problems, in Second World War, 349-350 Travelers Aid Society, 331-332, 334 Travis, Lieutenant, 58 Trinidad, 277 Tripoli, 125 Triumphant, 90 Trolley cars introduced, 288-289 Truck farming, 285-287, 307, 331 Truman, Harry S, 360 Truxton, 309 Truxton, I. Walke, 324, 331 Truxton Manor Golf Course, 341 Tschudi, Richard B., 141 Tucker, Captain, 12 Tucker, John, 42, 47 Tucker, Mrs. Richard, 378 Tucker, Robert, 15, 23 Tucker’s Mill, 72; Dunmore’s camp at, 65-66 Tully, Cornelius, 6 Tunis and Park, lumber company, 294 Tunis and Serpell Lumber Co., 278 Tunstall, Alexander, 153 Tunstall, Robert W., 256 Turf Association, Norfolk, 267 Turkey, 25, 330 Turkey Ridge, battle of, 230 Turks Island, 45, 46 Turner, Henry L., 267 Tuttle’s soda fountain, 248 Twelfth Street Armory, 354 Twelfth Virginia Infantry Regiment, 229 Twentieth New York Infantry, 233, 234 Twenty-ninth Division, 310-313, 316 Twenty-seventh Massachusetts Infantry, 226 Twenty-sixth French Division, 312 Twenty-sixth Street Bridge, 340, 345 Two Friends, 39 Two Penny Point, 268 Tyler, Mr., 246 Tyler, John, 79 Tyler, President John, 155, 181 Typhoid mortality rate, 326 Unde Tom’s Cabin, 198 Underwood, John C., 232 Undine Boat Club, 266 Union, Norfolk, 220 Union, steamboat, 165 Union League, 236 Union Missions, 332, 334, 335 Union Street, 128, 129, 234, 252, 253 United Artillery, 229 United Charities, 332 United Fire Company, 253, 268 United Fund, 372 United Service Organizations, 352, 358; management committee, 351 United States Bank, 165 University of Virginia, 120, 256, 381 Upton Street, 190 Urban Renewal Administration, 374 Vacherauville, 312 Valmy, battle at, 8g Vauxhall Gardens, 121 Venice, 93 Venus, log Verdun, battle of, 303 Verpel, 315 Vestry, Elizabeth River parish, 22-24 Vewby’s ferry, 34 Victory Loan, 303 Viele, General Egbert L., 217, 220-222 Vigilant, log Virginia (Merrimac ) , 212-219 Virginia, propeller steamship, 284 Virginia, steamboat, 164 Virginia and North Carolina Transpor¬ tation Company, 161 Virginia and Tennessee Railroad, 182, 184, 272,273 Virginia Bank, 165, 191 Virginia Beach, 295-296, 328, 347, 350, 358, 382 Virginia Central Railroad, 178, 184 Virginia Chronide and Norfolk and Portsmouth General Advertiser, 141 Virginia Club, 302 Virginia Coal and Navigation Company, 310 Virginia Company, 3 Virginia Federal Convention of ij88, 119 Virginia Gazette, 25, 39, 46, 141 Virginia Military Institute, 298 Virginia Military Reservation, 347 Virginia Polytechnic Institute, 298, 386 Virginian, 316 Virginian-Pilot, 256, 292, 301, 304, 306, 309, 310, 319, 326, 329, 330, 336, 337, 339.340, 346,351,353,393 Virginian Railway, 282-283, 326, 369 Virginia State College, 385 Virginia Union LTniversity, 385 Vizenneau, Peter, 88 Volker Stellung, 312 Voss, Israel, 6 Index 416 Wainwaring, Captain, 22 II 'aiting for the Verdict, 262 Wakefield, 313 Walcott, 120 Walke, Anthony, 14, 80 Walke, Thomas, 6, 80 Walker, Gilbert C„ 235, 238, 241-243, 272 Walker, Thomas, 18 Walker Street, 133 Waller, D. W„ 119 Waller, William, 266 Walter, Thomas U., 140 Walters, Bray B., 196 Walters, Harry, 278 Walthall, 179 Walthall, Byron, 120 War Board, 305 War Department, U. S., 103, 321 War of 1812, 109-115, 141, 159-160, 165, 354 Ward, Dr., 188 Warren, Admiral, 113 Warren County, N. C„ 161 Warren County, Va., 389 Warren’s wharf, 190 Washington, 157, 165 Washington, George, 25, 6g, 72-73, 7g, 81,82, 174 Washington, D. C., 106, 113, 140, 157, 172, 175, 192, 213-215, 223, 230, 266, 274. 292, 300, 326, 339, 341, 348, 363, 387,388 Washington Point, 142, 144 Washington Street. 91 Washington’s birthday balls, 122 Water Street, 4, 92, 93, 115, 118, 122, 125, 126, 127, 129, 131, 183, 252, 276, 282,292 Water supply, 11-12, 133-134, 247-250, 320-321,349 Waverly, 313 Webb, James, 80 Webb, Mollie, 267 Webber, William, 266 Webster, Daniel, 155 Weisdorf’s band, 243 Weld, Isaac, 33, 88 Weldon, 161, 167, 170-172, 178, 180, 181, 192, 217, 271 Weldon and Wilmington Railroad, 171- 172, 180,279 Wells, H. H., 238, 242, 243 Wells, Otto, 336 Wertz String Quartet, 378 Wescott, Wright, 16, 69 West, Mrs., 92 West Ghent, 2g2 West Indies, 14, 35-47, 48, 49, 64, 68, 70, 76-82, 84-91, 95, 105-107, 110, 145- 153. >57- »88, 3°4 West Point, Va., 277, 279, 280 West Virginia, 222, 273, 274, 280, 281, 2 8 3. 3°4- 328 Western Branch, 285 Western Branch Belt Railroad, 278 Westham, 83 Westwood, Worlick, 80 Wheat trade, see Grain trade Wheeling, 175, 177 Whigs, 199-201 White, Captain and Mrs., 225 White. Fuller, 9 White. Leonard D., 324 White Hardware Company, 291 Whitehaven, 51 Whitehead, Alexander, 136, 138 Whitehead, Henry Cowles, 381 Whitehead, James, 136, 138-139 Whitehead, John B., 244-245 Whitehead, Dr. N. C., 124 Whitehead, Dr. R. C., 380-381 Whitehurst, killed, 234-235 Whittle, Conway and Fortescue, 96 Wide-Water Street, 115 Wigwam Gardens, 93, 121 Wilcox’s Farm, 230 Wild, General E. A., 225, 227, 229 Wilderness, battle of the, 229, 230 Willard School, 351 William and Mary, 87 William and Mary, College of, 24, 385- 3 8 7 William and Mary Opera Workshop, 382 William Kennedy, 284 William Laiurence, 284 William Selden, 218 Williams, Captain, 98 Williams, John, 237 Williamsburg, 25, 54, 57, 382, 387 Williamson, William P., 213 Willock’s Lane, 129 Willoughby jetty, 342 Willoughbv Spit, 289, 340, 367 Wills, josiah, 181, 196 Wilmington, Del., 185, 288 Wilmington, N. C., 113, 114, 172, 274, 326 Wilmington and Shelby Railroad, 275 Wilson, Woodrow, 300, 301, 308 Wimble, Nancy, 21 Winchester, 175 Winchester and Potomac Railroad, 176 Wing, Dr. W. W., 235, 236 Wingfield, Rev. S. H., 227 Winthrope, Mrs. Munroe, 228 Wirt, William, 124, 135 Index 417 Wise, Captain George, 112 Wise, Henry A., 192, 200, 201, 211, 229 Wise, Nicholas, 4, 5 Withers, R. E., 238-239, 242 Wolfe Street, 93, 205 Woman’s Club, 336 Woman’s Council of the Navy League, 35 8 -359 Wonycott, Nicholas, 69 Wood, Anna Cogswell, 264 Wood, Mayor J. D., 354 Woodford, Colonel William, 57-61, 63-64 Woodis, Mayor Hunter, 193, ig6, 270 Woodis Rifles, 229 Woodside’s Lane, 93, 190, 191 Woodworth, Rev. C. L., 226 Wool, General John E., 217, 220, 222 Works Progress Administration, 338, 34i-343.3 8 2.3 8 3 World War, First, 300-317, 362, 377 World War, Second, 344-361 Wright, Dr. David M., 221 Wright, Penelope, 221 Wright, William, 87 Wyatt, Governor Francis, 3 Wythe, George, 80 X. Y. Z. affair, 90, 95 Yale College, 119 Yellow fever, 13, 188-1 g7 Y. M. C. A., 258, 264, 294 Yoncq, 315, 316 York County, 80 York River, 25, 27, 43, 46, 83, 213, 216, 278, 279 York Street, 261 Yorktown, 233, 308; surrender at, 72-73 Yorktown, 165 Yorktown centennial, 256 Young Park, 371 Youthful Days of Richelieu, 262 Y. W. C. A., 352 Zion’s Sons, 233 05/17/0G