Loss of the
Sultana.
With
biographical sketches of men from Henry County, Indiana, who
were on board
Hazard's History of Henry County, Indiana, 1822-1906, Military
Edition, Volume I; George Hazzard, Author and Publisher, New
Castle, Indiana, 1904
The Steamer
Sultana was built at Cincinnati, Ohio, January, 1863, and was
registered at 1,719 tons. She was a regular St. Louis and New
Orleans packet, and left the latter port on her fatal trip,
April 21, 1865, arriving at Vicksburg, Mississippi, with about
two hundred passengers and crew on board. She remained there
little more than one day, repairing one of her boilers and
receiving on board 1,965 Federal soldiers and thirty five
officers, just released from the Confederate prisons at Cahaba,
Alabama, Macon and Andersonville, Georgia, and belonging to the
States of Ohio, Indiana, Michigan, Tennessee and West Virginia.
Besides these, there were two companies of infantry, under arms,
making a grand total of 2,300 souls on board. There were also a
number of horses and mules and over one hundred hogsheads of
sugar, the latter being in the hold of the boat and serving as
ballast.
Leaving
Helena, the boat arrived at Memphis, Tennessee, about seven
o'clock p.m. of the 26th of April. Here the sugar was unloaded,
many of the exchanged prisoners helping the crew, thus making a
little money for themselves. Sometime in the evening, probably
well towards midnight, the boat steamed across the river to the
coal bins or barges and, after taking on her supply of coal,
started on, up the river, to Cairo, Illinois. All was quiet and
peaceful, many of the soldiers, no doubt, after their long,
unwilling fast in Confederate prisons, were dreaming of home and
the good things in store for them there, but alas! those
beautiful visions were dissipated by a terrific explosion. About
two o'clock in the morning of the 27th, as the boat was passing
through a group of islands known as the "Old Hen and Chickens,"
and while about opposite Tagleman's Landing, she burst one of
her boilcrs and almost immediately caught fire, for the
fragments of the boiler had cut the cabin and the hurricane deck
in two and the splintered pieces had fallen, many of them, back
upon the burning coal fires that were now left exposed. The
light, dry wood of the cabins burned like tinder and it was but
a short time ere the boat was wrapped in flames, burning to the
water's edge and sinking. Hundreds were forced into the water
and drowned in squads, those who could swim being unable to free
themselves from those who could not and consequently perishing
with them.
One thing
favorable for the men was the fact that there was a little wind,
hence the bow of the boat, having no cabin above it, would face
the wind until the cabin was burned off the stern, then the boat
gradually swung around, the unburned part of the boat above the
water acting as a sail while that below acted as a rudder, and
finally drove the men into the water. A part of the crowd was
driven at a time, thus giving many of those who could swim or
had secured fragments of the wreck an opportunity to escape. But
there was one thing that was unfavorable, and that was the
pitchy darkness of the night. It was raining a little, or had
been, and occasional glimpses of timber were all that could be
seen, even when the flames were the brightest, consequently the
men did not know what direction to take. Another thing that
added greatly to the loss of life is the fact that the river at
this place is three miles wide, and at the time of the accident
was very high and had overflown its banks, and many doubtless,
perished after reaching the timber, being unable to climb a tree
or crawl upon a log and thus get out of the water.
Among the
passengers on board were twelve ladies, most of them belonging
to the Christian or Sanitary Commission. One of these ladies,
with more than ordinary courage, when the flames at last drove
all the men from the boat, seeing them fighting like demons in
the water in the mad endeavor to save their lives, actually
destroying each other by their wild actions, talked to them,
urging them to be men, and finally succeeded in getting them
quieted down. The flames now began to lap around her with their
fiery tongues. The men pleaded and urged her to jump into the
water and thus save herself, but she refused, saying: "I might
lose my presence of mind and be the means of the death of some
of you." And so, rather than run the risk of becoming the cause
of death of a single person, she folded her arms quietly over
her bosom and burned, a voluntary martyr to the men she had so
lately quieted.
It was claimed
at the time of the explosion that the same had been purposely
caused to destroy the lives of the Union soldiers aboard the
vessel, but official investigation showed that this was not the
case. The boilers of the Sultana had been constructed for the
upper Mississippi River trade and had afterwards been put in a
boat running on the lower Mississippi to New Orleans. The lower
part of the river being muddy caused sediment to sink in the
boilers and the boilers became leaky: this added to the fact
that the boilers were too light and the vessel loaded to nearly
her double capacity, were, in brief, the causes of the
explosion. The vessel had been in continuous use and no
opportunity given to clean the boilers.
CONFEDERATE PRISON, CAHABA, ALABAMA.
It is a
coincidence that the Henry County soldiers on the Sultana, both
the lost and saved, were all confined in the same Confederate
prison at Cahaba. Alabama; they were all released at the same
time; with other released prisoners; they went across the
country to Vicksburg, Mississippi, together; and then, still in
company, they boarded the steamer Sultana, which afterwards
exploded its boilers and sent so many souls into eternity.
Cahaba was the
first capital of Alabama, situate on the Alabama River, in
Dallas County. six miles from the present city of Selma, in that
State. No vestige of Alabama's first seat of government now
remains. During the Civil War, an old brick cotton shed at
Cahaba was turned into a prison for Federal soldiers, and was
commonly called "Castle Morgan," after the daring raider of that
name.
It is stated
that the density of the population of this prison was greater
than that of Andersonville and the mortality fully as great. The
restricted accommodations, however, prevented such a large
gathering of prisoners here, as at Andersonville. The greatest
number confined in Cahaba, at any one time, was less than three
thousand, whereas, at Andersonville, at the time of the greatest
mortality, there were thirty two thousand. A sketch of each
Henry County soldier who was aboard the steamer Sultana, when it
was destroyed, is appended.
HIRAM ALLISON.
SURVIVOR.
This soldier
lived in Delaware County, just north of the village of Luray, in
Henry County, which was at that time the common centre for the
surrounding country. When the 9th Indiana Cavalry was recruited
and organized, he enlisted with many others from the
neighborhood of Luray, in Company G, and was mustered into the
service of the United States, as a private, January 21, 1864. He
was a faithful, conscientious soldier and received deserved
recognition, while in the service, by being appointed a corporal
of his company. He was mustered out of the service June 17,
1865. He was a survivor of the Sultana disaster. When the
explosion occurred, he was on the hurricane deck, near the wheel
house. When he recovered from the shock of the explosion, he
wrenched a piece of timber from its fastening and lowered it
into the water, where it was seized by a drowning comrade, and
he was obliged to let go. Among the hundreds of struggling men,
he fought for pieces of the debris. He finally secured a
floating board to which he clung and from which he was rescued
some seven miles down the river. After his rescue, he returned
to his home in Delaware County, where he continued to reside
until his death, November 28, 1902. Mr. Allison was a respected
and influential citizen of his community, in the welfare of
which he was always interested. His remains are buried in Beech
Grove Cemetery. Muncie, Indiana.
Surviving him
are his widow, Mrs. Elizabeth Allison, and four children.
namely: Mrs. John Parrott, of Albany; Mrs. Alfred Aoleux, of
Swissville, Pennsylvania, and Myrtle and Cassius Allison, who
lived with their parents.
JOHN FRANKLIN CHENOWETH.
LOST.
Stephen K.
Chenoweth came to Henry County from Ohio and Casandra Perfect
came, with her parents, from Marion County, West Virginia. Both
settled in Prairie Township, Henry County, where they were
married February it, 1841, the ceremony being performed by
William H. Williams, a Justice of the Peace.
They were the
parents of five children, three boys and two girls. When the
Civil War began, John Franklin Chenoweth, the oldest son, born
January 5, 1844, enlisted in Company F, 57th Indiana Infantry,
and was mustered into the service of the United States, as a
private, November 18, 1861. He was a faithful soldier,
veteranized with the regiment and came home on veteran furlough,
this being his first visit to his parents, at the old home,
since his enlistment in the army. He was slightly wounded in the
Atlanta Campaign.
At the battle
of Franklin, Tennessee, November 30, 1864, he was captured and
taken to Cahaha Prison, Alabama, where he remained a prisoner
until March, 1865, when he was released. With others of his
comrades, he was sent to Vicksburg, Mississippi, and there going
on board the Sultana, became one of the more than seventeen
hundred victims of the explosion of the boilers of that vessel.
His body was never recovered.
JAMES M. FLETCHER.
LOST.
James M.
Fletcher did not enlist from Henry County, but as Company A.
37th Indiana Infantry, to which he belonged, was a distinctively
Henry County organization, in the roster of which his name and
service are fully set out elsewhere in this History, it is
fitting to make mention of this soldier. When the war began, he
and his brother. John W. Fletcher, were residents of Hancock
County, Indiana, near the postoffice of Willow Branch. Both
enlisted and served as privates in the company and regiment
above named. At Kenesaw Mountain. Georgia, June 18, 1864, James
M. Fletcher was captured and held in a Confederate prison,
presumably until March, 1865, when he was released in time to
reach Vicksburg, Mississippi, and go aboard the Sultana. When
the boilers of the steamer exploded, he went down to death in
the waters of the Mississippi and his body has never been
recovered. The author of this History has made diligent effort
to procure more satisfactory information regarding the life of
this gallant young soldier, but without success.
ROBERT WESLEY GILBREATH.
SURVIVOR.
Robert Wesley
Gilbreath is the son of Jesse and Sarah (Burcham) Gilbreath. His
father was born August 14, 1808, and died December 29, 1876. His
mother was born June 19, 1808, and died August 15, 1879. The
family came to Indiana from North Carolina, in 1851, first
settling at Greensboro, Henry County, and afterwards moving to
Raysville, Knightstown and Carthage, the last named place in
Rush County. For thirty years. Robert W. Gilbreath and wife
resided in Indianapolis but they now make Charlottesville,
Hancock County, their home.
Robert Wesley
Gilbreath was born in North Carolina, July 10, 1844, and on
January 19. 1870, married Emily A. White. They have three
children, namely: Raymond; Beatrice, now Mrs. Dittrich, of
Indianapolis, and Paul W. The two sons live with the parents.
Robert had three brothers. John S., born in North Carolina,
February 23, 1833, and Joseph F., born September 18, 1846. Both
were soldiers in the Civil War, the first named in the 19th
Indiana Battery and the last named in Company G. 16th Indiana
Infantry. Their respective military records will be found
elsewhere in this History in connection with those militant
organizations. Thomas W. Gilbreath, the oldest of the brothers,
was born in North Carolina, May 22, 1831, and died December 22,
1861.
Robert Wesley
Gilbreath enlisted in Company E, 9th Indiana Cavalry, and was
mustered as a private, December 19, 1863. On December 1, 1864,
he and others of his regiment were captured near Franklin,
Tennessee, and taken eventually to Cahaba Prison, Alabama, where
he was kept confined until March, 1865, when he was released on
parole and sent to Vicksburg, Mississippi. He was mustered out
of the service. August 7, 1865.
His story of
privations and dangers courageously endured, culminating in the
Sultana holocaust, is best told in his own words. He says:
"After our
capture, we were taken to Columbia, just below Franklin, and
confined in an old fort, for two weeks. The snow was knee deep
and crusted so hard, one could walk anywhere without sinking
through. There was no water for bathing or cooking and hardly
enough fit to satisfy thirst. When we left the old fort, the
backs of our coats and trousers were burned off from standing
close to the fire to keep warm. We were marched afoot for more
than two hundred miles to Corinth, Mississippi, before we were
put on a train. At Cherokee Station, we camped for the night in
a ‘lob-lolly’ of a place and in the morning, many of the boys
were frozen to the ground. Arriving at Cahaba, everything was
taken from us except our clothing. About March 1st, the prison
was flooded by the Alabama River and the water in the prison
became from three to four feet deep. How the privations of that
prison were endured and life remain is still a mystery. Cahaba
was in fact 'Starvation Point.' Those who had them, traded their
suspenders and the buttons of their clothing, for food. I did
not have a button—not a single button—on my clothes, when
released, but used, instead, pins made of wood."
"Paroled and
sent to Vicksburg, we there awaited transportation northward and
home. On April 25, 1865, we boarded the Sultana and everything
went smoothly until we reached Memphis. There two hundred and
fifty hogsheads of sugar were unloaded, many soldiers assisting
the crew, thus earning a little money, a fair supper and, for
those who wanted it, all the whiskey they could drink. From
there still northward the steamer ploughed her way through the
night, her living freight wrapped in slumber and no noise,
except the steady puffing of the engines, disturbed the
sleepers. About two o'clock in the morning of April 27th, the
widely chronicled explosion took place. For a moment, the
darkness of the night was intensified and then came the screams
and groans of the injured."
"Andy
McCormack, Thomas Laboyteaux and myself were sleeping together
on the hurricane deck, about half way between the pilot house
and the bow of the boat, dreaming of home and friends. The first
thing I knew of the explosion, was standing on my feet, looking
right down into the boiler room. The whole of the vessel,
amidship, was torn in pieces; fire quickly followed the
explosion and the red glare of the flames disclosed a scene of
terror and tragedy. My first thought was. 'How can we save
ourselves?' Andy McCormack was sleeping soundly and only partly
aroused by the explosion, he asked, 'Where is my blanket?' I
told him I didn't think he would ever need a blanket again and
that we would he lucky to escape with our lives. Andy turned
around and started away. I moved to the bow of the boat and saw
dozens of men jumping into the river. So many were taking to the
water that I feared to follow, lest I should be dragged down by
the clutch of some drowning victim. Looking about, I seized a
large rope and slid to the lower deck, where I stood until the
fierce heat drove me over the side. I threw a door into the
water and on that floated two or three miles, but strugglers in
the water kept grasping the door and turning it over so that I
abandoned it and swam down the river alone, until I overtook
some fifteen or eighteen men on a gang plank, whom I joined.
Their combined weight sank them to their necks in the water and
the gang plank, constantly turning, threw many under the water,
never to reappear. The river, from the boat to Memphis, was full
of struggling men and dead bodies. Myself and a sergeant of a
Michigan regiment caught some driftwood and tried to raft
ourselves ashore, but the men were so excited, we could do
nothing. When we came around the bend and saw Memphis, we knew
where we were. We drifted past the landing which was crowded
with people from the city. Opposite Fort Pickering, two men in a
skiff rowed out to within twenty or thirty feet of us, but
feared to approach nearer, lest the men, in a scramble for
safety, should overturn the boat. The Michigan sergeant and
myself (I was a good swimmer) swam to the skiff and were taken
ashore."
"Numbed by the
cold and exposure, we could hardly walk. Our rescuers took us up
the steep bank of the river into the Fort and gave each of us a
half pint of whiskey, supplied us with breakfast and lent us
clothing, until such time as we could be outfitted by the
Government, which was done on the following day, at the hospital
to which we were removed from Fort Pickering. From the hospital,
we were taken to the Soldiers' Home where we remained until
taken aboard the U. S. Mail boat, bound for Cairo, Illinois.
Thence we went by rail to Mattoon, Illinois, where the citizens
tendered us a reception. From Mattoon, we went to Indianapolis
and thence scattered to our homes. This homecoming was to me, as
no doubt, it was to all, the happiest moment of my life:
THOMAS JEFFERSON GINN
SURVIVOR.
Thomas
Jefferson Ginn belonged to the well known family of that name,
which before and during the Civil War was so numerous in and
around the village of Cadiz. He was the son of James and
Margaret (Youngman) Ginn and was born August 17, 1833.
When the Civil
War began, he was living near Mechanicsburg, from which place he
enlisted in Company F, 57th Indiana Infantry, and was mustered
into the service of the United States, as a private, November
18, 1861. He served with his regiment continuously, veteranized
and came home on veteran furlough. At the battle of Franklin,
Tennessee, November 30, 1864, he was captured and held in Cahaba
Prison, Alabama, until March, 1865. Ginn was a Sultana survivor,
but the details of his miraculous escape from death by drowning
are not now obtainable.
The war being
over, he returned to his home in Harrison Township and for many
years followed his trade as a carpenter. On December 30, 1874,
he was married to Elizabeth, daughter of Josiah and Anna
McCormack, of the well known family of that name in Harrison
Township. He died December 17. 1900, and is buried in
Mechanicsburg Cemetery. His widow survives him and makes her
home at Middletown. The author has desired to give a more
detailed statement as to this soldier, but has sought for
material to that end without success.
WILLIAM C HOOBER.
LOST.
On December
18, 1842, in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, David M. Hoober and
Fannie Raker were united in marriage. The Hoobers were of German
ancestry and Henry County has received many valuable accessions
from this element of the old Keystone State. Hoober and his wife
came to Henry County in 1844 and settled in the northern part of
Prairie Township, where they ever afterwards lived and raised a
large family. The father was born January 1, 1820, and died July
2, 1899. The mother was born January 18, 1823, and died July 1,
1900. Both are buried in Buck Creek Cemetery, Monroe Township,
Delaware County, Indiana.
That the
family was patriotic is attested by the service of its only two
sons who were old enough to go into the army, during the Civil
War. John B. Hoober enlisted from Luray in Company I, 69th
Indiana Infantry, and was mustered into the service of the
United States, as a private, August 19, 1862. He served with the
regiment until mustered out at the end of the war, July 5, 1865.
William C.
Hoober, born November 2, 1847, assisted in recruiting in Prairie
Township for Company G, 9th Indiana Cavalry, and was mustered
into the service of the United States, as a private in that
company, January 21, 1864. At Sulphur Branch Trestle, Alabama,
September 2; 1864, he was captured, along with Lewis Johnson,
William H. Peacock and other comrades, and held in the
Confederate prison, Cabaha, Alabama, until March, 1865, when he
and other prisoners of war were released on parole. The facts
attending his capture and the privations endured in the
Confederate prison are substantially the same as set out in the
personal recollections of the two comrades of his company, Lewis
Johnson and William H. Peacock published in this chapter. Hoober,
Johnson and Peacock, all went into the same company and regiment
in the army and they went from the same neighborhood in Prairie
Township. In fact, they had grown up as boys together. They all
boarded the Sultana at Vicksburg, Mississippi, and started with
glad hearts on the voyage up the river towards Cairo, Illinois,
and thence home. But when the fatal explosion occurred, William
C. Molter, not so fortunate as his two comrades, went down to a
watery grave. His body was not recovered.
LEWIS JOHNSON.
SURVIVOR.
Lewis Johnson
was born in Prairie Township, Henry County, Indiana, near the
village of Luray, November 27, 1845. His parents were John and
Charlotte Johnson, who came to Henry County in the pioneer days
from Muskingum County, Ohio. John Johnson, the father, was a
native of Virginia.
When the war
came, he was too young to enter the army but December 15, 1863,
he enlisted in Company G, 9th Indiana Cavalry, and was mustered
into the service of the United States, as a private, January 21,
1864. The regiment served with the Army of the Cumberland under
General George H. Thomas.
On September
25, 1864, during the severe engagement at Sulphur Spring
Trestle, Alabama, Mr. Johnson, with many others of his regiment,
was captured by the Confederates under General Forrest and
imprisoned at Cahaba, Alabama, where they were kept until March,
1865. During his confinement there, Mr. Johnson experienced the
terrible privations which were so often the lot of unhappy
prisoners. Insufficient and unwholesome food was doled out,
usually coarse corn meal and occasionally meat, said to be beef,
but which Mr. Johnson says was probably mule meat, "tough, hard
to masticate and difficult to digest."
When the
prisoners at Cahaba were released in March, 1865, they were not
exchanged but were simply paroled and sent to Vicksburg,
Mississippi, where they remained in parole camp, until sent on
board the steamer Sultana, April 25, 1865, pulling out at once
for Memphis, Cairo and home.
On board the
steamer, everything went along smoothly until the early morning
of April 27th, when the terrible explosion occurred. Mr.
Johnson, narrating his experience, says:
"At the time I
was lying right in front of the wheelhouse, on the hurricane
deck, sound asleep. Aroused by the explosion and taking in the
situation as best I could, it was evident that the boat was
doomed. I picked up some boards and carried them to the edge of
the boat, where I stripped off my clothes, but the flames were
already upon me and I was burned about the back and shoulders.
Naked as I was, except for a handkerchief tied about my neck, I
jumped into the water and sank. On coming to the surface, I
struck out with all my strength for the Arkansas shore and
finally reached the timber. I, with eight other persons, got on
one of a number of logs that were floating about, where we
maintained our holds until rescued by boats. The Indiana
Sanitary Commission at once took us in hand. I was supplied with
a blanket, which I wrapped around me, and was given hot
stimulants. We were landed at Memphis and taken to Gayoso
Hospital in carriages sent to the wharf for that purpose. After
several days spent in the hospital recovering from exhaustion,
we were put aboard the United States Mail boat and taken to
Cairo, Illinois, thence by rail to Indianapolis, and from there
I hurried to my Henry County home, where I remained until final
discharge, June 17, 1865. The horrors of that awful catastrophe
arc indelibly stamped upon my memory.
After his
discharge from the army, Mr. Johnson remained on his father's
farm and worked for him until his marriage which took place
October 18, 1868, his wife being a daughter of David M. Hoober.
They were the parents of eight children, six of whom are still
living. His wife died January 23, 1899. Mr. Johnson is now a
prosperous farmer living in Delaware County, three miles west of
Muncie.
Silas Johnson,
a brother of Lewis, was also a soldier of the Civil War, who
served three enlistments. He was mustered into the service of
the United States as a private in Company K, 57th Indiana
Infantry, November 14, 1862, and was mustered out August 14,
1863. He again enlisted in Company B, 134th Indiana Infantry and
was mustered into the service of the United States, as a
private, May 24, 1864, and was mustered out September 14, 1864.
His final enlistment was in Company B, 147th Indiana Infantry.
He was mustered into the service of the United States, as a
Sergeant, January 25, 1865, and was mustered out August 4, 1865.
THOMAS LABOYTEAUX.
LOST.
Thomas
Laboyteaux was the son of Peter and Anna Laboyteaux, old
settlers of Henry County, east of New Castle. Peter is buried in
the Batson Cemetery, Liberty Township, and Anna, his wife, in
the cemetery near Greentown, Howard County, Indiana. The family
came to Henry County front near Hamilton, Ohio.
Thomas was
born July 4, 1836, and was married April 12, 1860, to Ellen M.,
daughter of Imla and Susan Cooper, of the well known Cooper
family, of Harrison Township. Imla was one of four Cooper
brothers, Caleb, Imla, William and John, who, in the early
thirties, emigrated, with their families, from near Cadiz,
Harrison County, Ohio, to the western part of Henry County,
Indiana, from which fact comes the name of Harrison Township and
the town of Cadiz. From their first settlement in the county to
the present time, the family has played an important part in the
commercial, social, political and religious affairs of Harrison
Township.
Thomas
Laboyteaux was a farmer, near Cadiz. In the winter of 1863-4,
when Captain Volney Hobson was organizing what became Company E,
9th Indiana Cavalry, Laboyteaux joined the company and was
mustered into the service of the United States, as a private,
January 8, 1864. He was a faithful and efficient soldier and,
voicing the sentiment of his surviving comrades, he was brave
and daring. He was captured near Franklin, Tennessee, December
1, 1864, along with Robert W. Gilbreath and Andrew J. McCormack,
Sultana survivors, and all were held, as prisoners of war, in
Cahaba Prison, Alabama, until March, 1865, when they were
released on parole and sent to Vicksburg, Mississippi, where
they remained until they boarded the doomed Sultana, homeward
bound. Laboyteaux, less fortunate than his companions, was lost
and his body never recovered.
When Private
Laboyteaux went into the army, he left his family, consisting of
his wife and two children, living in Cadiz. The children were
Agnes, born February 10, 1861, and Leonora, born September 24,
1864. Mrs. Laboyteaux has ever since her husband's death
retained his name, residing continuously with her daughters, in
Cadiz, where the family is universally respected and esteemed.
ANDREW JACKSON McCORMACK.
SURVIVOR.
Andrew Jackson
McCormack was born June 26, 1846, on the farm of his parents,
Melon and Mary McCormack, near Cadiz, Henry County, Indiana. He
had three brothers in the Civil War, for one of whom, John R.
McCormack Post, No. 403. G. A. R., Cadiz, was named. In the
biographical sketch of John Rowdy McCormack, attached to the
history of that Post, published elsewhere in this history, will
be found further reference to the parents and to the military
services of his brothers.
Andrew J.
McCormack enlisted in the army in 1863, in Company E, 9th
Indiana Cavalry, and was mustered into the service of the United
States, as a private, January 8, 1864. The regiment served with
the Army of the Cumberland and was engaged in the military
operations against the advance of General Hood's Confederate
forces towards Nashville, Tennessee.
In an affair
with the enemy, near Franklin, Tennessee, December 1, 1864, he
was taken prisoner, along with several comrades of his company.
They were captured by the 6th Texas Rangers and taken to
Corinth, Mississippi, and thence transferred to a Confederate
prison at Meridian, Mississippi, and from there to Cahaba,
Alabama, where they arrived in January, 1865. Here was a noted
Confederate prison, known during the war as "Castle Morgan."
Here they were confined until March, 1865, when Mr. McCormack,
along with the other prisoners, was paroled and sent to
Vicksburg, Mississippi, where he remained in parole camp, until
the arrival of the steamer Sultana, April 25, 1865, when he
embarked in that ill fated vessel for the journey northward and
home.
At Memphis he
helped unload the vessel's cargo of sugar and received seventy
five cents for his labor, and this was all the money he had,
having received none since the time of his capture. Leaving
Memphis, the soldiers were resting in fancied security, but
disaster and death were already closing in upon them, Mr.
McCormack says:
"About eight
miles north of Memphis, the explosion occurred. All was
excitement and confusion. I was on the hurricane deck asleep,
but aroused by the explosion and gathering my senses, my first
thought was of safety. I started towards the bow of the boat but
the crowd was too great and I turned and started for the stern.
Amidship of the vessel, I was driven back by the flames. Thus
hemmed in I climbed to the top of the wheel house and from there
jumped into the river and began swimming downstream. I was a
good swimmer and after a time, I began to make for the shore on
my right, but could not stein the swift current. About four
miles below the wreck, I found some twenty five men holding onto
a gang plank and I joined. Some of them, becoming chilled by the
water and losing their strength, could no longer hold on but
sank beneath the waters. Floating in this way, we passed the
city of Memphis but, about a mile below that city, three canoes
found us and we were rescued by willing hands. From the wreck to
the point of rescue was about ten miles and we were in the water
about four hours.
"We were taken
to Memphis and cared for there in the general hospital. After
two or three days' rest, we were put on board the United States
Mail boat and taken to Cairo, Illinois; thence we were
transferred to Indianapolis, and from there I went as soon as
possible to Knightstown and then home to Cadiz, where I was
received as one from the dead. After a few weeks of rest, I
reported in person to the Adjutant General at Indianapolis and
was furloughed back home, where I remained until final
discharge, September 1865. I never saw my regiment again after
my capture. From about two months before my capture until my
final discharge from the army, I drew no pay, but upon
discharge, I received for pay and allowances three hundred
dollars.
"There were
two other boys from Cadiz aboard the Sultana, Thomas Laboyteaux,
a member of my company, who was drowned, and Thomas J. Ginn, of
Company F, 57th Indiana Infantry, who escaped. There were other
men of my regiment aboard the boat but, with the exception of
Robert W. Gilbreath, I did not know them nor did I meet them
prior to nor after the disaster. It was a fearful experience,
never to be forgotten, to which neither pen nor brush can do
justice."
In May, 1866,
Andrew J. McCormack was united in marriage with Catharine Haggy
and to them have been born eight children, five of whom are now
living. Mr. McCormack is a carpenter and contractor, living at
Cadiz.
ENOCH THOMPSON NATION.
LOST.
The Nation
family has been, for a long series of years, identified with the
history of Dudley Township, Henry County. The history of the
family in Henry County is nearly as old as the county itself.
Enoch Nation, the father of Enoch Thompson, was born in
Tennessee, September 18, 1804, and died February 15, 1879. The
mother, Sophia Thompson, was born in Virginia, March 16, 1807,
and died May 12, 1876. They were married in Henry County,
Indiana, on December 29, 1825, the ceremony being performed by
Elisha Long, Associate Justice, and both are buried in the
Leakey Graveyard, north of New Lisbon.
The family was
earnest and active in its support of the Government, during the
Civil War. Six sons of Enoch Nation marched under the banner of
the Union. Sampson served in a Kansas regiment; David was
Captain of Company B, 69th Indiana Infantry; William, a private
in Company C, 5th Indiana Cavalry; James Rariden, a Sergeant in
Company A, 8th Indiana Infantry (three years), afterwards became
Captain of Company G, 9th Indiana Cavalry, and Major of the
regiment; Seth was a private in Company A, 8th Indiana Infantry
(three years); and Enoch Thompson, who lost his life by the
explosion of the boiler of the Sultana, and whose body was never
recovered.
William
Nation, brother of Enoch and the uncle of the above named
soldiers, sent two sons into the army, namely: Wallace, who lost
his life in front of Atlanta, while serving in the 20th Indiana
Battery, and Enoch H., who served in the Indiana Legion and with
the State troops, in the Morgan Raid.
All of the
above named soldiers, except Sampson and David, are properly
accredited to Henry County, and their records will be found
appropriately set out in this History under their respective
organizations. The record of Sampson in the Kansas regiment is
not obtainable; David went into the army in command of a
company, from Delaware County. He was for a time a resident of
New Castle, where he was editor of the New Castle Courier, and
will be remembered by many Henry County people. He was the
husband of the Carrie Nation who achieved notoriety in the State
of Kansas by her strenuous advocacy of the temperance cause.
Enoch Thompson
Nation, who was born January 3t, 1845, enlisted as a private in
Company G, 9th Indiana Cavalry, of which his brother, James R.,
was
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WILLIAM HENRY PEACOCK.
SURVIVOR.
Wilham Henry
Peacock was born in Tyler County, Virginia. May 28, 1845. His
parents were Elijah and Mary ((Wright) Peacock. They came to
Indiana in 1846, settling near the village of Luray in Prairie
Township, Henry County. He spent his youth on a farm and
remained with his parents until he was seventeen years old when
he enlisted December 15, 1863, in Company G, 9th Indiana
Cavalry, and was mustered into the service of the United States,
as a private, January 21, 1864. Later he was appointed a
Corporal of his company. He was captured at Sulphur Branch
Trestle, Alabama, September 25, 1864, and was confined in the
Confederate prison at Cababa, Alabama, until March, 1865. During
his captivity, he suffered from privations of a most aggravated
character. The food especially was of a scanty and unsanitary
character, the daily ration consisting of one quart of coarse
corn meal, ground cob and all. When captured, he was in robust
health and weighed one hundred and ninety seven pounds; when
released, his weight was eighty one pounds, and his health so
shattered that he did not fully recover until long after the
war.
When released
from Cahaba on parole, he was sent to Vicksburg, Mississippi,
where he remained until the arrival of the steamboat Sultana, on
which he and many hundreds of other paroled soldiers embarked
April 25, 1865, homeward bound. The vessel reached Memphis,
Tennessee, on the evening of April 26th. Leaving there later in
the same evening, the boat was gliding smoothly through the
waters of the Mississippi, when without warning, she was shaken
from stem to stern by the explosion of her boiler and
immediately burst into flames.
Mr. Peacock,
in his vivid recollections of the event, says:
“When the
explosion occurred, I was on that part of the boat where the
officers' berths were located, called the 'Texas,’ in front of
the pilot house. There were four of my comrades with me, but of
the five, I alone was saved. The others perished by fire or were
drowned in the icy waters of the river. Enoch Nation and myself,
when the explosion took place, fell back on the boat together
and were covered with the flying debris. Freeing ourselves from
this, we started to find some escape from the impending doom.
Enoch went into the flames and was never heard of afterwards. I
climbed to the wheel house, which was torn and wrecked, and
there, picking up a piece or two of timber, I plunged with them
into the river.”
“I started
down stream, struggling and battling with the waves, until some
distance below Memphis, where I was rescued and taken to the
hospital in that city. When rescued, I was entirely naked,
except for a pair of drawers, one stocking and a handkerchief
around my neck. The explosion was a terrible fatality and the
impression made upon my mind by its sufferings and horrors can
never be effaced.”
"April 30,
1865, I left Memphis by boat for Cairo, Illinois, and thence I
went by rail to Indianapolis. There I was furloughed home, but
afterwards returned to Indianapolis, where I received my full
pay and allowances and my final discharge from the army, June
25, 1865."
On July 25,
1868, Mr. Peacock was united in marriage with Martha A. Reynolds
and to this union have been born three children, namely: Mary
E., James R., and John C. Mrs. Peacock was the daughter of
Breckenridge Reynolds, a native of Virginia, who was a large
land owner, being at one time the possessor of over one thousand
acres. Mention of him will be found elsewhere in this History.
Mr. Peacock is
now a highly prosperous farmer, whose fine country home is a
mile or two from Cowan, Delaware County, Indiana. His home and
hospitality are noted in Delaware County and himself esteemed by
his friends and neighbors. His farm consists of one hundred and
eighty acres of fertile and highly cultivated land. Politically,
he is an uncompromising Republican.
THORNTON TOLIVER WATKINS.
LOST.
For many years
prior to the Civil War, there lived, four miles south of New
Castle, in Henry Township, a family named Watkins, well known
and universally respected for their industry and probity of
character. The father and mother of this family were Armistead
and Nancy (Thornton) Watkins. They had a large family,
consisting of eleven children, all of whom were boys, well
remembered for many notable characteristics, and each the
possessor of a double name. It was a remarkable though usual
custom in that neighborhood, in the schools and elsewhere in the
community, to always refer to each of them by his full double
name. The names of these boys, given in the order of their
births, were as follows: George Thomas, John James, Wilham
Morris, Francis Marion, Marquis de La Fayette, Thornton Toliver,
Mahlon Smith, Augustus Wilson, Aurelius Leonard, Benjamin
Franklin and Alverenas Pentecost.
When the Civil
War came, Francis Marion was the first of the boys to enter the
army. His record as a soldier is fully set forth in the roster
of Company F, 57th Indiana Infantry. He was wounded and died
from the effects thereof, all of which together with his present
place of burial appears in the "Roll of Honor,”– in this
History.
William Morris
joined the army, serving first in the State troops, Company B,
110th Indiana Infantry (Morgan Raid), and afterwards in Company
G, 17th Indiana Infantry.
Marquis de La
Fayette attempted to go to the front as a soldier; went to
Richmond, Indiana, where he was accepted and mustered in by the
Provost Marshal, drew his uniform, and was ordered to report at
Camp Carrington, Indianapolis, for assignment to a regiment. He
came home on his way to Indianapolis but never succeeded in
getting further, as he was taken sick and died, His remains are
buried in South Mound Cemetery. His name appears in this History
in the "Incomplete list."
The military
record of Thornton Louver Watkins shows that he enlisted at New
Castle, as a recruit, in Company F, 57th Indiana Infantry, and
was mustered into the service of the United States, as a
private, April 6, 1804. He was taken prisoner at the battle of
Franklin, Tennessee, November 30, 1864, and was held in Cahaba
Prison, Alabama, until March, 1865, when he was released on
parole and sent to Vicksburg, Mississippi, where with other
released prisoners, he became a passenger on the Sultana and was
lost in the explosion. It is from the foregoing facts that his
record is made up, as it appears in the "Roll of Honor." His
brother, Wilham Morris Watkins, now connected with the Soldiers’
Home, at Marion, Indiana, however, writes to the author of this
History, as follows:
"I have never
believed that brother Thornton Toliver was on the Sultana. Some
one heard some one else say they had seen him on the boat at
Vicksburg, but there was no record, only rumor. I corresponded
with all the organized societies along the river. He was at
Andersonville and escaped but was recaptured and taken to
Meridian, Mississippi, where he again made his escape. At a
point fourteen miles north of Jackson, Mississippi, he and his
partner, each wrote a letter home and exchanged the letters. The
comrade, Merrill, by name, I believe, succeeded in getting
through the lines and we got the letter. In it he wrote that he
would try to get to the Mississippi. This was the last from him.
Months after the close of the war, a letter came directed to him
from a man, who had befriended him, asking after him and saying
he had heard that he had been ambushed and killed." |