Letter from Antietam: 'He fought and fell like a brave man'

Two-page letter to the wife of 16th Connecticut private Henry Aldrich breaking the news
of her husband's death. This letter was spliced together using picmonkey.com.

The letter to Private Henry Aldrich's wife in Bristol, Conn., begins like thousands of others sent home during the Civil War: "It becomes my painful duty to inform you ... " Dated Sept. 21, 1862, 16th Connecticut Lieutenant Julian Pomeroy's two-page note informed Sarah Aldrich of the death of her husband at the Battle of Antietam four days earlier. So many of these poignant letters are waiting to be uncovered in the National Archives or on fold3.com, an excellent premium site. The full letter to Mrs. Aldrich is presented on the blog for the first time. Pomeroy, also from Bristol, survived the Civil War.

X X X

16th Connecticut Private Henry Aldrich's marker
at Antietam National Cemetery.

In camp near battlefield, 
Sharpsburgh, Maryland
Sept. 21, 1862

Mrs. Aldrich:

Dear Madam

It becomes my painful duty to inform you that in the battle 17th Sept when our noble 16th regt. was literally cut to pieces, your husband fell at his post in the fight and was found dead where he fell. He was buried with the rest of those who fell in the battle of that day of our regt. A board with his name cut in it marks the spot, which is on the top of a grassy hill, and his mortal remains will rest as quietly there as in New England.

He was a good soldier and all in the Company liked him. He was always ready to do his duty and in battle he fought & fell like a brave man. None could do more. Many others did the same. I sympathise with you in your severe affliction, as I should wish others to do by my family had I fallen as I might.

Very respectfully,
Julian Pomeroy 1st Lieutenant
Commanding Co. K 16th Regt.Conn. Vol.

P.S. Enclosed is a letter which I received for him last night.


X X X

For more on Aldrich and other Connecticut soldiers who fought at the Battle of Antietam, purchase my book, "Connecticut Yankees at Antietam."

Who was Antietam 'hero' Michael McMahon?

Michael McMahon's obituary in the Hartford Courant
on Jan. 25, 1930.

The fully searchable historical archive of the Hartford Courant made available online by my local library is one of the more indispensable Civil War research tools, especially for delving deeper into the Battle of Antietam. From casualty lists to first-hand accounts of the battle to reports of soldier funerals, it helped immensely in the reporting of my book, "Connecticut Yankees at Antietam." (I often wonder how people did such research in the olden days -- like, say, in 1994 -- when this kind of information wasn't at our fingertips.) A quick Antietam search of the Courant database often leads to stories worth pursuing further, such as these accounts of the funerals of Sergeant Charles Lewis of the 8th Connecticut and brothers Samuel and Henry Talcott of the 14th Connecticut.

And then there's the intriguing story at right, published in the Courant on Jan. 25, 1930, on the death of an 86-year-old Antietam "hero" named Michael McMahon. According to the account, the Rebels came close to capturing the 14th Connecticut's regimental colors (presumably during the attack at Bloody Lane) until they were "frustrated" by McMahon, a young private in Company F. If true, it's odd that I have not found another account of McMahon's valor in any other of the usual Connecticut sources. Not in this 1868 Connecticut history of the war. Not in the regimental history or in this 1891 account of the 14th Connecticut veterans' visit to Antietam. Not in any of the many soldier letters that I have read about the battle.

Nowhere.

Cursory research on McMahon's background yielded interesting results. He was born in Donegal, Ireland in either 1841 or 1845, arriving in the United States in 1848. From New Britain, Conn., he enlisted in the Union army on April 20, 1861, five days after President Lincoln issued a call for volunteers. He was mustered into Company G of the 1st Connecticut, a three-month regiment in which he served until July 31, 1861. The 1st Connecticut fought July 21 at the First Battle of Bull Run, where it "was met by a body of cavalry and infantry, which it repelled, and at several other encounters at different parts of the line the enemy constantly retired before us," according to an official report by Colonel Erasmus Keyes.

"This early service was an excellent school for the citizen soldiers of the State, and by far the larger part of those who participated were soon again in the service for three years or the war, fully one hundred and eighty from the 1st Regiment holding commissions," General Daniel Tyler wrote. "Connecticut can always look back with pride on her three months' volunteers of 1861."

According to this pension file index document found in the National Archives (and digitally
 on premium web site fold3.com),  McMahon and later his wife made a claim for his pension.
(CLICK ON IMAGE TO ENLARGE.) 

Perhaps eager to continue to serve his adopted country, McMahon re-enlisted on July 17, 1862, mustering into Company F of the 14th Connecticut as a private a little more than a month later. He was wounded at Chancellorsville on May 3, 1863, but was listed as captured at Ellis Ford, Va., five days later and sent off to Andersonville, where he spent a little more than 10 months as a POW. McMahon survived the war, married a woman named Joanna, started a family and joined the Theodore Stanley No. 11 Grand Army of the Republic Post in New Britain, serving as its senior vice-commander.

So what else can we find out about Michael McMahon and was he really a hero at Antietam? Perhaps details of his life and service in the Union army will be revealed at the National Archives in his pension file, often a source of rich material. McMahon filed for an invalid pension on Feb. 24, 1887, and Joanna filed for a widow's pension after her husband's death. Surprises such as the letter found in this post and this one often turn up in musty, old files in the Archives or on fold3.com, a pay-per-view site. I'll aim to pull McMahon's file during my next trip to Washington. In the meantime, perhaps a reader can help fill in the blanks on the Irishman's life. I'll keep you posted.

Antietam Mann's plea to FDR: 'Please read this letter'

Antietam Burnside Mann (upper left), whose father was mortally wounded at the Battle of Antietam, 
suffered with various health issues for her entire life. She made one final plea for a pension 
to President Franklin Roosevelt in 1935. (Mann photo courtesy of her descendants)

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Decades after the Civil War, awful ripple effects of family tragedy rocked Antietam Burnside Mann. Her 54-year-old father, Peter, a private in the 8th Connecticut, suffered a bullet wound in the groin at the Battle of Antietam. A weaver from Enfield, Conn., Peter died in a field hospital near Sharpsburg on Sept. 27, 1862, 10 days after the battle. Her husband's death was a great shock to Mann's wife, Ann,  pregnant at the time with her fourth child. After an extremely difficult labor, Ann gave birth to a daughter on Jan. 31, 1863.

Antietam Burnside Mann's grave
 in Friends Southwestern
  Burial Grounds in Upper Darby, Pa.

"Imperfectly developed," the girl was blind in her left eye and suffered from heart and stomach ailments. The midwives who aided the delivery blamed "depressing influences of prenatal sorrow, grief and anxiety" for the poor health of the child, who was named for the battle and General Ambrose Burnside, the man who directed the attack in which Peter Mann was mortally wounded. 

Life was a struggle for Antietam, who suffered from fainting spells and headaches and dropped out of high school to work in a carpet mill. The family sought help from specialists, but they offered her little hope.

"Thus she lives on," the family's longtime doctor wrote, "doomed to perpetual hopelessness and suffering."

After her mother died in 1890, Antietam lived with relatives in Connecticut, Massachusetts and Pennsylvania. Unable to work and hoping to take advantage of an act passed by Congress to aid helpless children of Civil War vets, she sought a pension. After the government twice rejected her claims, 72-year-old Antietam took her case to President Franklin Roosevelt himself in 1935. 

Whether the president read her letter is unknown, but it did indeed made it to the White House. A stamp acknowledging its receipt included the signature of Louis McHenry Howe, the president's secretary and son of a Civil War vet.

"I can truthfully say I have never enjoyed a day's health in my life," Mann wrote in the letter dated Aug. 7, 1935.  (See below for complete text of Mann's letter to FDR.)

"I have often prayed to the Lord to take me, but God's ways are not our ways.," she added in the heart-rending letter, which I discovered in the National Archives while researching my book, "Connecticut Yankees at Antietam."

Ten days after receipt of the letter, however, the government rejected her claim. "This action was taken after a thorough field examination," a bureaucrat wrote.

Mann, whose story is detailed in my book, lived with relatives until the end of her life. She died at age 79 on Dec. 29, 1943.

SOURCE

• Peter Mann's pension record, National Archives and Records Service, Washington, D.C., via fold3.com.

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Antietam Burnside Mann's letter to President Roosevelt reached the White House.
The arrow points to its receipt by Roosevelt's secretary, Louis McHenry Howe.

Aug. 7, 1935

Mr. President
Washington, D.C.

Sir:

Please read this letter. My father, Peter Mann of Thompsonville, Connecticut, served in the Civil War; he was over fifty years when the war started but being very patriotic, he soon inlisted (sic). He came home on a furlough, May 1862, went back and was fatally wounded in the battle of Antietam, September 17, 1862. This was a great shock to my mother as I was born the following January 31, 1863. I can truthfully say I have never enjoyed a day's health in my life. The government granted a pension for me until I was sixteen years. My mother died October 9, 1890. Since then I have depended on my relatives.

Unable to hold a job, Mann lived with relatives in three states.

For the last forty five years, I have lived first with one and then with another. It has been a great trial for me for I knew they could not afford to keep me, but I was always treated with kindness. About twenty eight years ago, Mr. Liddell, an old veteran, put in a claim for a pension for me. Several doctors gave statements, stating I was not capable of supporting myself. I was rejected as I was not an idiot, or permanently helpless. I have heart and stomach trouble, very little sight in one eye, and my hands are crippled from arthritis. I have been with my niece in Drexel Hill (Pa.) for the last eight years; they have lost their home as they could not keep up the payments, her husband being out of work. I should feel very thankful if the government would grant me a pension. I should pay may board and have medical attention. I don't like to ask for charity, but that is what I have depended on for ...

"PS," Mann wrote the president, "please excuse pencil writing!"

...many years. I have often prayed to the Lord to take me, but God's ways are not our ways. I sometimes think it was sent to test my faith. If my father had been spared, I would never had to depend on charity and no doubt would have been born with good health. Pardon me for writing you, but everybody advised me to write. If I am not asking to (sic) much, will you please answer.

Yours respectfully

Antietam Mann

Miss Antietam Mann
508 Alexandria Ave.
Drexel Hill, Pa.

PS. Please excuse pencil writing!

Ten days after Antietam Mann wrote a letter to FDR, her claim for a pension was rejected.

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Soldier snapshot: 16th Connecticut private Robert Morgan

Private Robert P. Morgan's brownstone memorial in Granby (Conn.) Cemetery.
Photo: Karen Phillips Miller

This document in Morgan's pension file notes that he was married
to Mariah Goodrich on Jan. 19, 1858 in Rocky Hill, Conn.
(CLICK ON IMAGE TO ENLARGE.)

It's always nice to breathe a little life back into the story of a long-forgotten Civil War soldier. Thanks to blog reader Karen, who supplied a photo of 16th Connecticut private Robert P. Morgan's brownstone memorial in a cemetery in Granby, Conn., and a quick dive into Morgan's pension records, we know a little more about the soldier who died a week after he was wounded at the Battle of Antietam. In September 1862, Morgan was the married father of two young children, Lillious, 3; and Anna, almost 7 months. He and his wife, Mariah, were married at the Congregational Church in Rocky Hill, Conn., on Jan. 19, 1858, when he was 21 and she was 17. Robert enlisted in the Union army on July 19, 1862, mustering in with Company E of the 16th Connecticut in Hartford on Aug. 24, 1862. At Antietam, Morgan was wounded in John Otto's 40-acre cornfield and taken to a nearby makeshift field hospital with scores of other wounded and dying men. According to an affidavit signed by 16th Connecticut surgeon Abner S. Warner, Morgan died at the "hospital near stone bridge," probably a reference to either the Henry Rohrbach or Otto farms. Soldiers from his regiment were treated at the houses and barns at both locations a short distance from Burnside Bridge. After the war, Morgan's remains were recovered and buried in the Connecticut section at Antietam National Cemetery, grave No. 1,102. Mariah remarried in 1875 and again in 1896, after her second husband died. For more on Connecticut Antietam deaths, check out my Excel spreadsheet that includes soldier, regiment, company, date of death, family, final resting place and much more.

Wounded at the Battle of Antietam, Morgan died at "hospital near stone bridge," according
to this document signed by 16th Connecticut surgeon Abner S. Warner.
(CLICK ON IMAGE TO ENLARGE.)

Virginia soldiers' cemetery: Enemies in life, together in death

In 1865, photographer William Frank Browne, a former Union soldier, shot this image of a soldiers' cemetery
 at Drewry's Bluff in Virginia. This is the right half of a glass plate.  (Library of Congress Civil War collection)

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In life, they tried to kill each other. In death, Frank L. Smith of the 1st Connecticut Heavy Artillery and at least six Confederate soldiers were buried together in the same small graveyard next to a woodlot at Drewry's Bluff, near the banks of the James River, seven miles south of Richmond.

Weeks after the Civil War officially ended, photographer William Frank Browne, a former Union soldier, shot the poignant image above of a soldiers cemetery. Perhaps he was drawn by the large, well-marked grave marker for Smith, a quartermaster sergeant who drowned in the James River on May 4, 1865, a little more than three weeks after Lee surrendered to Grant. The 30-year-old soldier's name, rank, company and cause of death were carefully carved or painted onto a marker, and his initials "F.L.S." were etched into a small, wooden footboard.

The grave was only temporary for the soldier from Granby, Conn., who enlisted in the Union Army as a private on May 23, 1862. In a massive post-war Federal effort, the remains of Smith and other Union dead were recovered and re-interred in national cemeteries. Smith's final resting place is in Section A, Plot No. 196 in City Point National Cemetery in Hopewell, Va.

A cenotaph (left) in Silver Street Cemetery in Granville Center, Mass., for Frank Smith; his grave is
at City Point National Cemetery in Hopewell, Va. The date on the  cenotaph notes he died May 3, 1865. 
Other sources denote May 4, 1865. (Cenotaph photo: Dave McCaffrey; City Point photo: Find A Grave.com)

Smith's name appears in this old ledger book of re-burials of Civil War soldiers.
(CLICK IMAGE TO ENLARGE.)

At least 17 gravesites appear in Browne's image at Drewry's Bluff, site of Confederate fort called Fort Darling by the Union. Upon closer inspection, six are Confederate:

An enlargement of the cemetery image reveals
the name of Archer Neill of the 23rd Tennessee
 on a slender wooden headboard. Neill was listed as 
Archibald in the 1850 U.S. census.

Private Archer Neill, 23rd Tennessee: The Civil War rocked the Bedford, Tenn., family of wealthy farmer John Lambert Neill and his wife, Sally. All three of their sons served in the same regiment in the Confederate Army. A private in Company D, John was captured at Petersburg in June 1864 and died in the wretched Union prisoner-of-war camp in Elmira, N.Y., on Nov. 25, 1864. His gravesite is in Woodlawn National Cemetery in Elimira. James, who by the end of the war was promoted to colonel, was wounded at Shiloh on April 7, 1862, and apparently survived the war. Archer, whose given name was Archibald, was killed at the Battle of Drewry's Bluff on May 17, 1864. Only 26 years old, he served in Company D with his brother. (Starting at Drewry's Bluff, tragedy also rocked a family from Connecticut. On May 16, 1864, Lieutenant Edward Wadhams of the 8th Connecticut was killed during an attack on the Rebel fort. Within 18 days, two of his brothers who served in the Union army also had died.)

Private Ebberlee R. Boisseau, Virginia Chesterfield Artillery: He enlisted in Company Epes', Virginia Chesterfield Light Artillery Battery, on Sept. 17, 1861. Boisseau, buried to the right of Quartermaster Smith, was killed at Drewry's Bluff on Aug. 4, 1864.

Private William Cox, 63rd Tennessee: Little is known about Cox, whose date of death appears to be May 1864 on his grave marker, which is just above Boisseau's in the image directly below. Organized in July 1862, the 63rd was comprised of men who lived in Claiborne, Roane, Washington, Knox, Hawkins and Sullivan counties. The regiment fought at Chickamauga before it joined the Army of Northern Virginia in the spring of 1864.

E. McD: Probably E. McDonald or E. McDowell, he served in a Virginia artillery unit.

Private Burwell Orange, 20th Virginia Heavy Artillery: Orange's age -- he was 45 years old in 1860 -- didn't deter him from joining the army. Neither did his family circumstances. According to the 1860 census, Orange, a laborer, had a 28-year-old wife named Ann and three children: Silman, 4;  William Edward, 2; and Eliza, 1. From Buford Depot in western Virginia, Burwell and his brother Edward enlisted Feb. 25, 1862, and both served in Company C of Jones' Artillery. Burwell was killed during an attack by Union gunboats at Drewry's Bluff on May 15, 1862.

Private E. McDaniel:  Upon close inspection, the grave for this soldier noted that he served in Jones' Artillery, the same unit in which Orange served. An E. McDaniel,  a 21-year-old private in the 22nd North Carolina, died of disease in Richmond on May 18, 1862, but it's unlikely he was buried near Drewry's Bluff.

In 1893. Confederates who were buried at Drewry's Bluff were disinterred and re-buried in Hollywood Cemetery in Richmond. Perhaps the Confederates mentioned in this post are among them.

Frank L. Smith's grave was also marked with a foot board that included his initials. 

In this enlargement, the graves of more Rebel soldiers are revealed near Smith's grave. 

Privates Burwell Orange (20th Virginia Heavy Artillery) and E. McDaniel (unit unknown) 
 were buried behind Frank Smith. They served in Jones' Artillery.

Private Ebberlee R. Boisseau of the Virginia Chesterfield Light Artillery was killed 
at Drewry's Bluff on Aug. 4, 1864. He buried to the immediate right of Sergeant Frank Smith.

The enlargement of the background of the cemetery image reveals several buildings,
most likely living quarters for soldiers. (CLICK ON IMAGE TO ENLARGE.)

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Have something to add (or correct) in this post? E-mail me here.

SOURCE: Ancestry.com

Hanging of Henry Wirz: 'A lovelier day never dawned'

In an englargement of an Alexander Gardner image, a noose is placed around the neck 
of Henry Wirz, who appears stunned by his fate. 
(Library of Congress Civil War collection)

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"A lovelier day never dawned on the capital of the United States," a correspondent for the Hartford Courant wrote of the fall day the United States hanged Captain Henry Wirz on the grounds of the Old Capitol Prison in Washington.

"Long before the appointed hour, an eager crowd of soldiers and civilians gathered on the prison, house-tops and trees adjoining, all anxious to get a sight of the condemned man."

The crowd also included famed Civil War photographer Alexander Gardner, who recorded at least five glass-plate images that, upon closer inspection, reveal remarkable detail before and after the execution of the former Andersonville commander.

Four days earlier, on Nov. 6, 1865, Wirz had been found guilty after a lengthy trial of "wanton cruelty" and murder of U.S. Army soldiers at the notorious POW camp in Georgia. 

Wirz remains controversial to this day. In 1865, Northerners — especially U.S. Army soldiers — viewed him with contempt.

"Every paper he looked at (during his trial) cried for his execution," the Courant correspondent wrote.

The scene at Old Capitol Prison shortly before Henry Wirz was hanged on Nov. 10, 1865. This is one 
of at least five images of the hanging taken  by Alexander Gardner. (Library of Congress Civil War collection)

Northern newspapers such as the
Hartford Courant covered
Wirz's trial and hanging extensively.

"Hang the scoundrel!" soldiers yelled from trees outside the prison grounds as Wirz stood on the scaffold that morning. 

The 42-year-old former Rebel officer appeared to listen only occasionally, the Courant reported, as Major George.B. Russell read the death warrant. A priest placed a crucifix to Wirz's lips, perhaps temporarily relieving "the agony which must have wracked the wretch's very soul."

"What his thoughts were during these brief moments there was nothing in his expression to betray," the Courant reported, "but the spectator into whose imagination the story of this man's brutalities had been indelibly burned, as with a branding iron, could vividly recall the crowded prison pen, with its scurvy-eaten, starving, vermin-infested victims; the yelling of the dogs through the woods and swamps, where poor, escaping fugitives had sough refuge from the unspeakable horrors of their confinement."

Exterior of Old Capitol Prison. (Library of Congress Civil War Collection)

Shortly before the hangman placed a noose around his neck, Russell asked Wirz if he had any final words.

"I have nothing to say to the public," he said. "and to you, major, I will say I die innocent; I have but once to die, and my hope is in the future."

Wirz had a look of "insolent indifference" and a smile on his face as an executioner put a black hood over his head, the Connecticut newspaper's correspondent noted.

At 10:32 a.m., the trap door was sprung, sending Wirz to his death.

"There were a few spasmodic convulsions of the chest, a slight movement of the extremities," the New York Times reported, "and all was over."  

Left hanging for 14 minutes, Wirz was cut down and taken to a hospital for an autopsy. Gardner also shot an image of the autopsy, but it was ordered to be kept from the public by the War Department.

"What a day of judgment is coming when all these devils in human form shall be brought up to the final answer for their crimes," the Courant concluded in its coverage of Wirz's hanging. "Every maimed and wounded soldier will be there, every weeping widow, helpless orphan, and every sorrowing sister will be a witness, and every starved and poisoned prisoner will raise his bony hand in judgment."

(For an excellent analysis of the Wirz hanging photos, see this post on Andy Hall's Dead Confederates blog.)

Major George B. Russell reads the death warrant to Wirz, who was seated on a stool to Russell's
  left and not seen in this enlargement of an  Alexander Gardner image.

Wirz's body dangles in the noose near the stool where he was seated minutes earlier.

An enlargement of Alexander Gardner's image of Wirz's hanging reveals bystanders in trees outside
 the prison grounds and the Capitol building in the background.

In this enlargement of a Gardner image, the soldier at left appears to be bored shortly after Wirz's hanging. 
(CLICK ON IMAGE TO ENLARGE.)

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Collector's Corner: Irish Brigade officer's effects

A tintype of Richard Bentley, who as a major in the 63rd New York was wounded in the arm during 
the Irish Brigade's attack at Bloody Lane at Antietam. (Images courtesy Joseph Maghe)

Collector Joseph Maghe purchased these boots and the other  effects of Bentley shown below
 at a Civil War show in Nashville.

Bentley's belt and buckle.

Richard Bentley's trunk. His name is stenciled on the front.

Bentley carried this sword and scabbard during the Civil War.

In the first installment of a semi-regular blog feature on Civil War collections, the effects of Irish Brigade officer Richard Charles Bentley are shown. I hereby dub this "Collector's Corner." Genius! Joseph Maghe, whose collection focuses on men of Irish birth, Irish parentage or who served in Irish-American regiments, generously supplied these images of his impressive Bentley collection as well as terrific information about the officer. Initially interested in edged weapons, Maghe has collected Civil War since 1985, when he purchased a M1860 cavalry saber at a show in Tampa, Fla., while on vacation with his family.  He purchased the Bentley items from a major dealer at the Nashville Civil War Show. A shipping merchant and an insurance agent from Albany, N.Y. before the war, Bentley was commissioned as a lieutenant in the 30th New York  in May 1861. He was discharged for promotion into the 63rd New York on Feb. 14. 1862.

Have something you would like to share for Collector's Corner? E-mail me.

X X X

Carte-de-visite of Bentley's wife, Mary. (Photo courtesy Joseph Maghe)

In a vast rural cemetery outside Albany, N.Y., among the graves of a U.S. president, a president's son and Revolutionary War generals, rest the remains of a well-regarded Irish Brigade officer who survived a wound at Antietam and brushes with death at two other major battles. "... a better nor braver man could not be found to draw a sword in the defence of his country," a soldier wrote home about Richard C. Bentley after the officer was wounded in the head at Gettysburg on July 2, 1863. "I hope soon to have the pleasure of informing you of the entire recovery of our gallant Lieutenant-Colonel, and of his return to duty. We can ill afford to spare such men from the field in the present disturbed state of the country."

At Antietam, Bentley served as major in the 63rd New York, one of the hardest-fighting regiments of the war and part of the famed Irish Brigade. Wounded in the arm during the attack at Bloody Lane, he was sent to the rear. Bentley, who for weeks was unable to mount a horse after he suffered the wound, returned to the 63rd and was promoted to lieutenant colonel and commander of the regiment on Oct. 25, 1862. Bentley suffered another wound at Chancellorsville on May 2, 1863, when a shell burst in front of him and a piece struck him in the right side of the head.

Bentley's children. (Photo courtesy Joseph Maghe)

"We have had a terrible battle, lasting since Thursday. I went in yesterday, commanding the balance of my regiment and the 69th (New York) put together, about 160 men," Bentley wrote to his father two days after the battle. "We did not get under musketry fire, but the shelling was terrible. As I marched along the road to get in position, a shell struck in the centre of my line and killed one and wounded two men of the 69th. I received a piece of shell, burst in the air, on the head, which passed through the centre of the top of my hat, grazing my head, without cutting out the side, through the rim, and tore through my coat, vest and shirt, at the back of my left shoulder.

"I remained in command nearly an hour before I felt any effect, save a slight shock. The sun was very hot, and after getting them into the last position they occupied before being withdrawn, I sat down and keeled over and was taken to the rear. To-day I am all right, save some pain in the head and back, but nothing to notice." The wound left Bentley, who also suffered from sunstroke at Chancellorsville, with slight paralysis in his left arm, leg and face.

During fighting in the Wheatfield at Gettysburg on July 2, 1863, Bentley survived another close call. He commanded the Irish Brigade, consisting of the 63rd, 69th and 88th regiments, when another shell burst near him, causing another wound in his left leg. The brigade suffered 24 casualties that day, nearly a third of the its 75 men.

Like so many Civil War veterans, Bentley couldn't escape the trauma of the Civil War. He died in Albany, N.Y. on Dec.1, 1871, from effects of his Chancellorsville head wound, according to Dr. Charles P. Staats, who was the assistant surgeon in the 63rd New York. He was only 40 years old.

A shamrock is carved at the top of Irish Brigade officer Richard Bentley's grave
 in Albany Rural Cemetery in Menands, N.Y. See Google map below.
(Photo courtesy Dave Whitaker)

Slipped into oblivion: A Connecticut tragedy on the Potomac

A stone carver created a small drum near the top of a memorial for Private George W. Carter
 in West Suffield (Conn.) Cemetery. He was a drummer in the 16th Connecticut.

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NINE DAYS AFTER John Wilkes Booth emptied a single-shot Derringer into Abraham Lincoln’s brain, nearly 400 former Union prisoners of war from Pennsylvania, Connecticut, New York and Maine crammed aboard the Massachusetts, an old steamer moored in the Potomac River at Alexandria, Virginia. "Unfit to carry more than half the number she had on board," a soldier who made the trip recalled. Although the Civil War was effectively over, Uncle Sam had deemed the veterans' services necessary for another assignment in the South.

Later that clear, moonless night, the voyage down the Potomac, to Norfolk, turned deadly, but the tragedy received little notice in the press. The United States government's frenzied search for Lincoln's killer was under way, pushing into the shadows of history the accident that occurred on the night of April 23 and morning of April 24, 1865.

Coverage of the death of Lincoln assassin
John Wilkes Booth in the Hartford Courant
on April 28, 1865.

Eleven soldiers from the 16th Connecticut, perhaps the Union Army's most unfortunate regiment, sailed aboard the Massachusetts. All had recently returned from furloughs at home. Each of the men, none older than 27, had survived the bloodiest day in American history, Sept. 17, 1862, when the rookie regiment suffered 204 casualties at Antietam. Nineteen months later, on April 20, 1864,  nearly their entire regiment had been captured at Plymouth, N.C., and sent to Andersonville, the war's deadliest POW camp. Nearly 13,000 Union soldiers, including 290 from Connecticut, died at the squalid, 26.5-acre stockade in southwestern Georgia.

Among the Connecticut soldiers aboard the Massachusetts was 24-year-old sergeant Samuel Grosvenor, who, along with his younger brother Joseph, had enlisted in July 1862. The brothers hailed from England, where their father supported his working-class family as a whitesmith and iron polisher in an iron works in Dudley. 

In 1845, the Grosvenors emigrated to America, settling in Guilford, Connecticut, near Long Island Sound. By April 1865, Samuel had been rocked by tragedy. At Antietam, he was wounded and Joseph, a private, suffered a mortal wound in the 40-Acre Cornfield. After Samuel's capture at Plymouth, he spent seven months in Andersonville, where he recorded a steady drumbeat of death in a pocket diary. 

Like Grosvenor, the other young Connecticut men aboard the Massachusetts had also faced death and despair. Private George Champlin’s brother, Andrew, also a private in the 16th Connecticut, had died of disease in December 1862 after long march to Virginia after Antietam. Corporal William S. Loomis was so ill at one point during his imprisonment that he wasn't expected to survive. His cousin John, a 16th Connecticut quartermaster, saved his life by giving him his place in a line of prisoners to be paroled in December 1864 in Savannah, Georgia.

Upon his release from Andersonville, passenger William Lott, a sergeant in the 16th Connecticut, weighed 85 pounds, 80 pounds less than his enlistment weight. A son of a shoemaker, Nott came from a family that had a rich tradition of military service: William's father served during the War of 1812, and his grandfather commanded the sloop Guilford during the Revolutionary War. Private George W. Carter, a drummer, frequently sent some of his pay to his widowed mother.

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Corporal George Hollands of the
 101st Pennsylvania watched 
in horror as 20-year-old George Carter
 of the 16th Connecticut 
drowned in the Potomac River.

THE WHIPPING WIND made the water choppy by the time Massachusetts had made her way past bluffs upon which Rebel gun emplacements once protected the Virginia side of the river. By late evening, the steamer neared the wide mouth of the Potomac, where it emptied into the Chesapeake Bay, about 55 miles from Washington. 

If it weren't a moonless night, the men aboard may have spied Maryland's Blackstone Island in the distance. In May 1864, Rebels intended to destroy the lighthouse on the 40-acre island, fearing its use by the Yankees. But the lighthouse keeper begged a Confederate officer to save it, arguing it was his home and his pregnant wife neared childbirth. The officer obliged, confiscating the oil in the lighthouse and destroying its lens and lantern instead.

Dozing below deck on the Massachusetts with his comrades, 24-year-old George Hollands recalled being suddenly awakened late that night by an “awful crash.” It was about 12:30 a.m. The Massachusetts steamed about a mile from Blackstone Island.

“We all sprang to our feet, pulled on our coats and ran up on deck to see what the trouble was,” recalled Hollands, a corporal in the 101st Pennsylvania. * 

The 1,155-ton Massachusetts had knifed into the port side of the Black Diamond, damaging the boiler on the large propeller barge, slashing a hole down to the water line near the wheelhouse and stunning the 20 men aboard. Meanwhile, the Black Diamond had carried off a chunk of the bow of the Massachusetts, "making a hole large enough to take in five or six men abreast down to within a foot of the water's edge," Nott remembered. 

Neither vessel apparently saw the other before the accident. According to one account, the Black Diamond, which had no lights on, was acting as a picket boat, guarding a crossing on the Potomac should Booth and any of his co-conspirators choose to slip across. In the darkness, men panicked aboard the Massachusetts. When the ship took on water, some grabbed planks or anything that floated and leaped into the Potomac. Others clambered aboard the crippled Black Diamond, which rapidly filled with water. The captain of Black Diamond, Nott recalled, attempted to swing his vessel around to the side of the Massachusetts, whose own captain frantically shouted for the men aboard her to move to the stern to keep the bow up.

“In the meantime we were shouting to the boat we had run into — the Black Diamond — to come to our assistance," Hollands recalled. "She circled around and came up alongside of us, and about 150 jumped from the Massachusetts to the deck of the Black Diamond. I was among the first to board her, and I ran immediately to the man at the wheel and asked him if the boat was all right. He said: ‘No; she is sinking.’ I then made up my mind that we had ‘jumped out of the frying-pan into the fire.’ ”

Three days after seven Connectcut
soldiers drowned in the  Potomac,
the tragedy received scant coverage
 in the Hartford Courant.

In the confusion, Nott thought the Black Diamond was a relief boat. As more men jumped aboard her, the vessel settled deeper into the water. The Black Diamond went under in three minutes.

Figuring his best chance to survive was on the Black Diamond, Hollands climbed up her mast. It may have been a life-saving move. When the vessel hit bottom, her deck was covered by about two feet of water. Hollands remained in the ship’s rigging, where he was joined by three or four members of the crew. The crippled but still floating Massachusetts and two other boats that happened by picked up survivors, many of whom had spent hours in the water.

Four 16th Connecticut soldiers — Nott, Private Willard Sessions of Burlington, Corporal Henry B. Cook of Bristol and Private Claudius Margerum of Suffield — survived. Margerum, who was hospitalized nearly five months after suffering a head wound at Antietam, floated in the Potomac for nearly three hours before rescuers saved him. More may have survived, but when the Black Diamond slashed past the Massachusetts, she smashed one of the steamer's two lifeboats.

At least 50 men drowned. Four were Booth pursuers on the Black Diamond: Peter Carroll, Samuel N. Gosnell, George W. Huntington and Christopher Farley, all civilian members of the Quartermaster Corps. Seven 16th Connecticut soldiers, each a survivor of Antietam and Andersonville, drowned: 
Samuel Grosvenor of Guilford; William Loomis, 23, of Enfield; Charles Robinson, 24, of East Windsor; Edward Smith, 21, of Bristol; Henry S. Loomis (no relation to William), 21, of Vernon; George Champlin, 22, of Stafford; and Carter, 20, of West Suffield.

After the collision, Carter leaped upon the Black Diamond, a 16th Connecticut comrade recalled. When she began to sink, he jumped back into the water, using a plank to float until about 2 a.m. In a vivid account, Hollands recalled what happened before Carter vanished into the Potomac:

Carter's body was not recovered 
after he drowned  in the Potomac River
 on April 24, 1865. This 
cenotaph in West Suffield (Conn.) Cemetery
 honors the 20-year-old soldier.

"(Carter) grasped hold of the keel of the boat, or something else, and was hanging on for dear life and calling for help. One of the crew up in the rigging got hold of a rope and time and time again threw it to where the boy was, telling him to grab for it. The boy couldn't get hold of it. Every now and then a wave would wash over him and strangle him, and as he would emerge from it he would call for the rope. He finally became exhausted and cried out to us that he could hold out no longer. ... He said he was a drummer of Co. D, 16th Conn., and asked us to inform his mother that he was drowned. He bade us goodby, and as the next wave washed over him he loosened his hold and sank beneath the waves."

---

EVEN IN CONNECTICUT, the tragedy received scant attention in the press as the hunt for Booth continued. (On April 26, 1865, a Federal search party cornered Booth on a Virginia farm. He was mortally wounded by a Union soldier.) Two days after accident, the Hartford Courant published a 185-word account of the tragedy. 

 16th Connecticut Private George N. Champlin's name appears on the side of his 
brother  Andrew's gravestone in Old Springs Cemetery in Stafford Springs, Conn. 

“We watched the New York papers a few days following the accident for an account of it, but I never saw any mention of it,” Hollands recalled in 1914. “In those days, however, the loss of a ship and a few men was not considered worth mentioning.”

A penny atop Carter's memorial.

Sunk with its smokestack peering above the Potomac, the Black Diamond was considered too old and too damaged to recover. The Massachusetts, salvaged after the accident, was decommissioned in New York in September 1865. She was sold by the government in October 1867 and resumed commercial service early in 1868 under the name Crescent City. On Oct. 17, 1881, the steamer was involved in another tragedy. In dry dock at Pier 48 in the East River in New York, the Crescent City capsized, killing one of the ship’s employees. The unfortunate soul's body was never recovered. Eleven years later, the old Civil War vessel sailed for the final time.

In Connecticut, the young men who drowned in the Potomac in 1864 were honored on memorials scattered throughout their home state. In West Suffield Cemetery, the words are barely legible on Carter’s weathered marker, his last name misspelled "Carterr" on the reverse. A carving of a small drum, homage to his role in the 16th Connecticut, adorns the front of the monument. 

To honor Champlin, a stone carver put his name, regiment and the words "Drowned in the Potomac"  into the side of his brother Andrew's gravestone in Old Springs Cemetery in Stafford Springs. A brownstone memorial and a state-issued marker memorialize Loomis in Enfield Street Cemetery in Enfield. The names of Grosvenor, Robinson and Henry Loomis appear on war memorials in their hometowns. Under the barely legible words "Lost at Sea," Edward Smith's name was carved into the north face of a memorial on a knoll in West Cemetery in Bristol.

Private Robinson’s body was recovered and buried in Arlington National Cemetery, Grave No. 8823. The bodies of the six other Connecticut soldiers who drowned were never found.

The Massachusetts collided with the Black Diamond about a mile
from Blackistone Island, now called St. Clements Island.

---

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NOTES AND SOURCES

* A farmer from Mansfield, Pa., Hollands was no stranger to danger. He was shot in the thigh at the Battle of Fair Oaks, near Richmond, in 1862 and survived three prison camps after his capture at Plymouth in April 1864.

• Ancestry.com
• George W. Carter pension file, National Archives and Records Service, Washington, D.C.
• “Military and Biographical Data of the 16th Connecticut Volunteers,” George Q. Whitney Papers, RG 69:23, Boxes 7-8, Connecticut State Library.
• Samuel E. Grosvenor diary, MS 81588, Connecticut Historical Society
• Hartford Courant, April 26, 1865
• Naval Historical Center
• New York Evening Express, Oct. 18, 1881
• The National Tribune, Jan. 29, 1914. May 14, 1914
• St. Clement's Island (Md.) Museum