The sinking of the Sultana: America’s greatest maritime disaster

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The sinking of the Sultana: America’s greatest maritime disaster
The Sultana ship wreck killed more than 1,800 passengers COURTESY | HILLSDALE HISTORICAL SOCIETY

For Hillsdale Union soldiers riding the Sultana, a steamship headed for Cairo, Illinois, the agonies of the Civil war seemed to be over — that is, until the Sultana exploded.

On April 24, 1865, over 2,200 Union soldiers, including the Hillsdale County 18th Michigan Infantry, boarded the Sultana after having been released as prisoners of war several weeks earlier. Their shouts of joy from the crowded decks reverberated across the roaring Mississippi. 

“The boat ran smoothly and the soldiers were enjoying the thought of being homeward bound,” Nathaniel Foglesong, a sergeant in the 18th Michigan Infantry, said. “Many of them were suffering from wounds received in battle, and all were sadly emaciated from starvation in the prison pens where we had been confined. But now we were en route for home, the cruel war was over and the long struggle closed. Battle, sieges, marches, and prison pens were things of the past.”  

For many, however, the suffering was not yet behind them. 

Just three days after beginning her journey, the Sultana exploded. Over 1,800 men and women, including 75 Civil War soldiers belonging to Hillsdale’s 18th Michigan Infantry, were killed in the greatest maritime disaster in United State’s history. Chester D. Berry, himself a survivor of the wreck, preserved the memory of the tragedy in  “Loss of the Sultana and Reminiscences of Survivors.” 

According to the Hillsdale County Historical Society, the Sultana was built in 1863 by Captain Preston Lodwick to serve as a cargo ship for Southern cotton. A year later, with the Civil War raging, Lodwick sold the boat to James Cass Mason, a savvy businessman who contracted with the Union government to transport war-related freight and troops. 

In April 1865, just days before the end of the Civil War, the Sultana stopped in Vicksburg, Mississippi where Chief Quartermaster Lt. Rueben Hatch offered Mason a deal: if Mason would agree to pay Hatch a kickback, he would ensure that  Mason would ferry 1,400 recently released Union prisoners North for a handsome profit.  Mason accepted. Neither man was concerned that the Sultana was only certified to carry 376 passengers. 

As the Sultana was returning to Vicksburg a few weeks later to transport the soldiers, one of the ship’s four boiler plates cracked. Rather than lose his profits, Mason ordered his mechanic to make a temporary repair.  

Upon arriving in Viksberg, Mason used the Sultana’s status as a military chartered vessel to shuffle as many soldiers as possible on board—more than was made in the agreement with Hatch. At 1 p.m.on April 24, encumbered by a load five times greater than her carrying capacity, the Sultana began her ill-fated journey up the Mississippi. 

Despite the strong flood tides and heavy load, the Sultana made swift progress with Mason at the helm. At around 1:30 a.m. on April 27, she steamed past Memphis. 

Private Benjamin G. Davis had awoken at the time to enjoy a smoke on deck. After about 10 minutes Davis finished his pipe and reached for a canteen. As he brought it to his lips, the Sultana’s boilers suddenly exploded and the canteen blew out of his hands. 

“I never saw it again,” Davis said. 

The explosion was likely caused by the shoddy repair and the undue stress placed on the boilers by the ship’s quick pace and excess weight. With the force of a ton of dynamite, the explosion tore the boat apart, throwing passengers and debris into the river. The Sultana was soon consumed in flames. 

Many of the passengers were asleep when the boilers exploded. They were awakened to a fiery hellscape. 

“The screams of women and children mingled with the groans of the wounded and dying,” said Hosea C. Aldrich, a sergeant in the 18th Michigan Infantry. “Brave men rushed to and fro in the agony of fear, some uttering the most profane language and others commending their spirit to the great Ruler of the Universe; the cries of the drowning and the roaring of the flames as they leaped heaven war made the scene the most affecting and touching.”

The flames forced many of the passengers to jump into the Mississippi where they were dragged down by the current. Many more died in the scramble for lifeboats and floating debris. Joseph Stevens, an English immigrant to Hillsdale, said his brother was killed attempting to board a lifeboard. 

“He started for one of the lifeboats and I warned him to keep away from them, for those in first were knocking everybody in the head that tried to get in. That was probably where he lost his life,” Stevens said. 

Not all of the soldiers knew how to swim, however. Some, such as Foglesong, sought higher ground on the capsizing ship. 

“I then climbed up on the banisters close to the rudder; being weak and feeble I almost lost my hold, I grasped tighter and drew myself up and getting a new hold, reached out my arm so that I could just place my fingers and foot on the rudder, then bent my head and body, shoved my arms around the rudder, and as I let go dropped down onto the lower deck,” Foglesong said. “While hanging to the rudder a man cried, ‘Get off from me.’ I replied, ‘In a minute.’ There were nine of us that had hold of that rudder and I, being the top one, kept quiet.” 

Despite the dangers, many soldiers displayed enormous heroism. According to his testimony, Commodore Smith remained on board the hull of the boat for thirty minutes throwing overboard all the loose boards and timbers that could save his drowning comrades. 

His efforts likely saved many of the survivors. John W. Norcutt, a soldier born in Hillsdale county, floated to safety on two pieces of cabin flooring. Aldrich and two companions did the same. 

As the Sultana continued to sink, Foglesong finally mustered the courage to jump from the tiller. He found a piece of the boat’s hull to float on and returned to the sinking ship to save his companions.  

Foglesong had also saved a young woman’s life earlier when he noticed that her life perseverer was buckled too low on her chest. 

“I stepped up to her and was going to unbuckle it, when she said, ‘soldier, don’t take that off from me.’ I said, ‘it must be under your arms.’ I placed it here, and took her by the hand and she jumped into the water. She thanked me and said, ‘may the lord bless you.’”

Eventually, Smith too had to try his luck in the frigid, turbulent waters when it became clear that help would not be coming. 

“We proceeded to perform carefully, but hurriedly, the most heart-rending task that human beings should be called upon to perform—that of throwing overboard into the jaws of certain death by drowning those comrades who were unable on account of broken bones and limbs to help themselves.” 

Smith was able to swim to safety, but remained haunted by the tragedy for years to come.

“My heart, even now, after twenty-seven years, nearly stands still while I write this sad story.”