When one thinks of significant Civil War prisons in Virginia, the mind goes immediately to Libby Prison, Belle Isle, or perhaps Danville. In Yankees in the Hill City: The Union Prisoner of War Camp in Lynchburg, Virginia, 1862-1865, author Clifton W. Potter, Jr., puts forth the argument that Lynchburg should be considered on that list. Lynchburg, a prosperous Southside Virginia city, hosted various forms of a prisoner-of-war camp from 1862 through 1865.
The camp grew and shrank, serving as a sizeable camp prior to the Dix-Hill Cartel’s established system of parole, but serving only as a transit center when exchanges were in action. Using an impressive number of records and primary sources including prisoner diaries, Potter puts forth the argument that “The Lynchburg System” of operating a prison was superior to the versions used in Richmond, and that the camp was generally more sanitary (and therefore less deadly). The chapters, which discuss Lynchburg, the early prison camps in Richmond, the creation of the camp in Lynchburg, the camp’s operation, David Hunter’s Lynchburg Campaign, and the post-war period, are neither solely thematic nor chronological.
The book closes with two appendices. The first painstakingly records the prisoners who died in Lynchburg; identifies the section of the prison they died in (and when); their original burial record including location; and their final disposition. Most of the prisoners who died were ultimately moved to Poplar Grove National Cemetery—with the notable exception of USCTs and Union soldiers from seceded states mistakenly identified as Confederate soldiers by the Burial Crops.
Potter also located soldiers whose remains were brought to family burial plots in the north or even to other National Cemeteries in Alexandria or Gettysburg. The list is organized by month of death, offering a striking glance at the growth and reduction or the prison population—and the ebb and flow of disease outbreaks. This was clearly a labor of love that required a great deal of research. The second appendix organizes United States soldiers killed or missing in action during the 1864 Lynchburg campaign. As most were likely buried as unknowns in the immediate aftermath of the battle, only a few specific burial locations are noted.
The book straddles the line between a local history of Lynchburg and a microhistory of a prisoner of war camp. For example, the chapter dedicated to the battle of Lynchburg goes deep into the military movements of the entire 1864 campaign and dedicates several pages to tracing the mythologized story of Jubal Early allegedly using an empty train to give a false impression of the size of his force. This is an impressive bit of scholarship, but the chapter may have absorbed more space than was necessary—especially in a book of this size (the main text, before appendices and endnotes, extends to 142 pages). While I am grateful for the ample context given to the city and its community beyond the prison, I cannot help but wonder if an alternative title would better illustrate the contents of the book.
In sum, this book is a valuable update to the literature on Lynchburg, as well as a welcome addition to comparative explorations of Civil War prisons.
Jonathan Tracey is a public historian focused on soldier experience, medical care, memory, and veteran life in the Civil War era.
