Fwd: Re: Sultana, etc. - JEAN PRATHER
Subject: Fwd: Re: Sultana, etc.
From: JEAN PRATHER
Date: May 07, 1998


--WebTV-Mail-1998452804-2362
Content-Type: TEXT/PLAIN; CHARSET=US-ASCII
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7BIT

HI turn your volume up on some of these 
    Jean

--WebTV-Mail-1998452804-2362
Content-Type: MESSAGE/RFC822

Resent-Date: Wed, 6 May 1998 14:16:00 -0700 (PDT)
Message-Id: 
Subject: Re: Sultana, etc.
Date: Mit, 6 May 98 22:24:49 -0000
x-mailer: Claris Emailer 1.1
Old-To: , 
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain; charset="iso-8859-1"
X-Sender: [email protected]
From: [email protected] (Mary Anne Kbel)
X-MIME-Autoconverted: from quoted-printable to 8bit by bl-30.rootsweb.com
	id OAA18793
Resent-Message-ID: <"K9fs3.A.-mE.OMNU1"@bl-30.rootsweb.com>
To: [email protected]
Resent-From: [email protected]
Reply-To: [email protected]
X-Mailing-List:  archive/latest/954
X-Loop: [email protected]
Precedence: list
Resent-Sender: [email protected]
Content-Transfer-Encoding: quoted-printable
X-MIME-Autoconverted: from 8bit to quoted-printable by mailsorter-105.bryant.webtv.net id EAA03646

Here is the newspaper article which appeared in 1908 - told by my great u=
ncle, James Robert COLLINS.  His father, Joseph Henry COLLINS, my materna=
l great, great grandfather, died in the tragedy.  There is a Sultana webs=
ite (https://sites.rootsweb.com/~genepool/sultana.htm) and a Sultana line (S=
[email protected]) for those interested. I will post the report on th=
e recent reunion in Knoxville soon.  Appreciate your interest, Mary Anne =
Burkhart Kuebel

CIVIL WAR REMINISCENCE

J. R. Collins tells of the sinking of the Sultana.

	It was during the summer of 1864 that the third Tennessee cavalry, to wh=
ich the writer belonged, was encamped near Nashville, Tenn., along with t=
he fourth Tennessee cavalry.
	Sometime about the middle of June of that year two regiments received or=
ders to proceed south and we at once broke camp and took up  the march so=
uthward, traveling down through middle Tennessee and on into Alabama.
	The first stop of any duration was at Mooresville, Ala., a small town in=
 the northern part of the state, a few miles south of Decatur.  The stop =
at Mooresville was of two or three weeks duration and we then moved on to=
 Decatur, where we again went into camp.
	At the time of which I write, the country surrounding Decatur and, in fa=
ct, the entire region of the state, was infested by prowling bands of gue=
rillas and deserters from the army and after arriving at Decatur, we were=
 detailed on scouting duty against those miscreants as well as against th=
e regular enemy.
	While we were at Decatur the famous Rosseau raid was organized, and was =
composed partially  of troops stationed there at the same time that our c=
ommand was there, the fourth Tennessee cavalry parting with us there and =
going on that expedition.  Our stay in Decatur was only a few weeks durat=
ion, when we again broke camp and proceeded to Huntsville, Alabama, and f=
rom there on to Athens, Ala., at which place we again went into camp and =
resumed our scouting operations through the  surrounding country.
	About the 23rd of September, 1864, while on one of these scouting expedi=
tions, our force, consisting of about 15 men came in contact with the com=
mand of Nathan B. Forrest, between Athens and  Florence, Ala.  Forrest wa=
s then on the march toward Athens with a heavy force, and as  our force o=
nly consisted of a scouting party, we made a detour, evading the Confeder=
ates and continued our expedition.  On  our return trip a day or two  aft=
erward, when we arrived at Sulphur Trestle, some six miles out from Athen=
s, we learned that General Forrest had attacked the place with his force,=
 and captured all the troops stationed there.
	At Sulphur Trestle there was a small force and one piece of artillery; a=
nd after some  delay and consultation among our officers, we took possess=
ion of this little force and prepared to defend ourselves against an atta=
ck.  This attack was not long in  coming.  Early the following morning Fo=
rrest=B9s troops appeared on the scene and an engagement between  our lit=
tle force stationed in the fortifications and could only have been one re=
sult of such a  one-sided affair, and after a hot fight, lasting five hou=
rs, we were compelled to surrender.  This was on Sunday morning, Septembe=
r 25, 1864.
	Our captors immediately started with us, under strong guard, southward, =
after traveling three days we came onto a railroad, the name of which I d=
o not  now  remember.  Here we found two  trains of freight cars waiting =
to carry us to the Confederate prison at Cahaba, Ala.  Boarding these tra=
ins we now started on one of the saddest and most gloomy rides many of us=
 had ever undertaken.  To make matters worse, the front train was wrecked=
 by being derailed.
	We were on this train  about two days, passing  through Corinth and  Mer=
idian, Miss.  Arriving at Cahaba River in Ala. We left the cars and embar=
ked on a steamboat, there awaiting to carry us to the Confederate prison =
at Cahaba, Ala.  The voyage down the river was soon  complete, and in a f=
ew hours we arrived at our destination, and bank of the river.  This  pri=
son had been an old cotton warehouse in former days, and within its dark =
and gloomy walls we took up our abode, not having the least idea when we =
could get out of there.
	The horrors of the battle field and of war in general were tame in compa=
rison to what soldiers had to endure in these fearful  prison houses.  St=
arvation and disease were the enemies to be encountered here and were two=
 fold more deadly than musket balls.
	I shall not endeavor to give a detailed description of the routine and m=
onotony of our prison life.  Suffice it to say that we suffered untold ho=
rrors there.  In addition to the want of food, the proximity of the priso=
n to the river allowed the water, when the river became swollen from the =
frequent rains, to rise up into the building and cover the floor to a dep=
th of from one to three and four feet deep.  Our building was not far fro=
m some cordwood which our captors furnished  us, and on these pens we wer=
e enabled to keep out of water when the place was flooded.  For six long =
weary months we lived in this dreadful existence, and ached every day for=
 a breath of pure air and a sight of the glorious blue sky once more.
	Finally to our intense joy and relief, word came that we were to be sent=
 to the exchange camp at Vicksburg, Miss., to be exchanged.  Words cannot=
 begin to express our feelings when we knew that we were again to leave t=
hat horrible hole.  Hears full of gratitude and thanksgiving to the great=
 Almighty beat riotously in the bosom of every prisoner and the tears cou=
rsed unrestrainedly down every cheek when the glad news was made known.
	In a few days we left Cahaba, and started on our journey to Vicksburg.  =
Our ranks were not so full now as on the day when  we entered those gloom=
y prison walls, for some of the poor fellows had succumbed to the fearful=
 hardships and exposure they were compelled to bear.
	Going part of the way by rail, part by boat and  part by foot, we arrive=
d at the exchange camp Vicksburg about the latter part of March, where we=
 went into camp.
	On the 9th of April, 1865, General Lee surrendered to General Grant at A=
ppomatox, and the war was over, so that there was no need of our being ex=
changed.
	Orders were issued from the War Department that we should proceed to Cam=
p Chase, Ohio, there to be mustered out of the service and to go home.  T=
he steamboat Sultana came up to Vicksburg to carry us to our destination =
and we boarded this boat 2200 strong, all joyful and happy that peace had=
 come at last, and anxious to get home to the loved ones once more.
	We left Vicksburg about the 24th of April, 1865, and steamed up the Miss=
issippi to Memphis, where the boat made a  short stop, late in the aftern=
oon of the 26th.  During the  night we again got under way going on up  t=
he river toward Camp Chase.
	The horrible, heart rendering catastrophe that was within a few hours to=
 befall us was drawing nigh, but never a thought of danger disturbed our =
slumber.  Many a weary soldier lay at night in the ill-fated boat dreamin=
g of home and loved ones, full of inexpressible happiness that at last al=
l dangers and hardships were over, and that the white dove of peace  had =
perched upon the flags  of hostile armies, and song and laughter would ta=
ke the place of groans and tears of agony.
	At about three o=B9clock in the morning of the 27th day of April, after =
having steamed ten miles up the river from Memphis, while every soldier o=
n the Sultana was wrapped in profound slumber, suddenly, without any kind=
 of warning whatever, an explosion rent the air, and the Sultana was shiv=
ered and splintered from bow to stern by a mighty rending force, which se=
nt men and timbers flying through the air to fall into the surging waters=
 of the great river.  Then a scene of horror augmented by death and the m=
ost frantic excitement and confusion ensued which is beyond the power of =
mortal tongue or pen to describe.
	The first I knew of the terrible catastrophe that had befalled us was wh=
en I awakened from sleep by the timbers of the  upper deck together with =
clouds of cinders and ashes, falling on me and pinning me to the deck, I =
being asleep on the lower deck.
	Hundreds of other soldiers were sleeping on this deck, crowded together =
as thick as they could find room to  lie.  The other two decks=8Bthe uppe=
r and hurricane=8Bwere likewise crowded with sleeping men.
	As soon as I awakened from sleep, I found myself fastened tightly by the=
 mass of timber that had fallen from above, so that I could hardly move. =
 The immense cloud of hot coals and cinders rained down upon us and I cou=
ld feel my flesh being burned and scorched as I lay there, exerting all t=
he energy I possessed to clear myself from the wreckage.  I was successfu=
l in extricating myself, after being badly burned by the hot cinders and =
scalding steam from the  exploded boilers of the boat.
	Never will I forget the scene that I then witnessed.  Quickly following =
the explosion the Sultana caught on fire and soon she was a blazing furna=
ce of angry, devouring flames.
	When the tremendous shock came most of the men sleeping on the upper and=
 hurricane decks were blown into the river and nearly all of them were dr=
owned on the spot.
	Hundreds of poor fellows sleeping on  the lower deck  where  I was were =
securely pinned down by the great heap of wrecked timbers that fell upon =
them, and all efforts to rescue them were futile, on account of  the fire=
, and many of them who had not been killed at first were burned alive bef=
ore the eyes of their helpless but more fortunate comrades, who could do =
nothing to save them from their horrible fate.
	Had the boat not caught fire, those imprisoned by the wreckage could hav=
e been rescued, but the flames which quickly gained an uncontrollable hea=
dway, made it imperative for every man who could to save himself..
	Men lay everywhere scalded to death by the hot hissing steam that came f=
rom the exploded boilers.  Some were killed outright by being struck by f=
alling timbers; others met death from the shock of the explosion, and eve=
rywhere on the ill-fated boat death was visible in countless horrible and=
 shocking forms.
	As soon as I could clear myself from the wreck, I began to look for my f=
ather, who was on the boat with me.  I soon found him and saw that he was=
 badly hurt, though he had also succeeded in getting clear of the wrecked=
 timbers.
	I knew that we could remain a very few minutes as the flames were mounti=
ng higher and higher and seething more angrily each moment, so I spoke to=
 my father and told him we would have to try to save ourselves the best w=
ay we could.  We bade each other good-bye, and at once prepared to  jump =
into the river.  My father  sprang into the water and seized a plank.  Th=
at was the last time I ever saw him.  I made my way to the bow of the boa=
t, and catching hold of a rope that was hanging from bow down to the wate=
r, I let myself down into the river.  Just as my feet struck the water, a=
 drowning man seized me in  a deathless grip,  and all that saved me from=
 sharing his fate was my hold on the rope.  I saw the poor fellow at last=
 loosen his hold and go down to rise no more.
	Then losing my hold on the rope, I sprang into the raging, chilly water.=
  The spring freshet was then on, and the great Mississippi was out of ba=
nks and spread for miles over the country on each side of its course.
	Swimming part of the way, and then turning on my back and floating, I we=
nt several  miles down the river, and finally came to some saplings into =
which I climbed.  I did not know that I was burned so badly until I got o=
ut of the water.  But when I pulled myself up into the branches of one of=
 those trees, I found that I was badly burned and scalded on several diff=
erent portions of my body and as soon as I had left the cooling influence=
 of the chilly water, the pains from the burns became intense.
	I had hardly got secure in the tree,  before some one called to me from =
a small bunch of  trees near by, and asked me to come over there, that th=
ere was  a floating log there wedged in among the trees, upon which we co=
uld stand.  I accepted this comrade=B9s invitation and was soon beside hi=
m on the floating log.  I then ascertained that there were three or four =
more men in the trees that were scattered about..
	One poor fellow who was in a tree a little distance from us seemed to be=
 terribly wounded, from the groans that escaped his lips, and in a few mi=
nutes we heard him strike the water, and then all was still.  He had undo=
ubtedly been so seriously hurt that his strength had failed him after he =
had reached the tree, and he fell into the water to be instantly drowned.=
  We had not been in our precarious refuge very long before we heard a bo=
at coming up near the opposite shore.  We screamed and yelled with all th=
e strength of our lungs  to attract their attention, but it went straight=
 on, and we almost despaired of being rescued at all.
	I shivered from cold, my clothes, of course, being dripping wet, and suf=
fering intense agony from the burns on my body, and never shall I forget =
the horror of those long hours I spent out  there in  those trees in the =
great river, hoping against hope that some kind fate might rescue us from=
  our terrible plight.
	It seems that providence must have heard our cries, for some time after =
daylight we  saw, to our great joy and relief, the same boat that had gon=
e up the river and passed by, coming down again on our side and making st=
raight for us.  The  boat was soon alongside of our refuge, and numb with=
 cold and sick with pain we were picked  up and put aboard.  Our rescue w=
as then on down the river to Memphis, picking up men all the way down.  A=
rriving at Memphis, all those disabled were sent to the hospital.  I rema=
ined in the hospital until my wounds were partially healed, sufficient to=
 enable me to travel.  From Memphis we were transferred to Camp Chase, Oh=
io, the place to which we had started on the unfortunate Sultana.
	There we were paid off, and by a special order of the war department we =
were sent to  our respective states to be mustered out of service.
	The Tennessee troops were sent to Nashville, and there we found the rema=
inder of our regiment, the third Tennessee cavalry, and we were mustered =
out together, after which each fellow struck out for his own, dear sweet =
home, happy, Oh! so happy to get there again.
	So thus ended one of the  most tragic and lamentable events that ever oc=
curred in the history of our country.  When the news of that awful traged=
y was sent abroad, many a home was darkened with grief and sorrow that ha=
d been happy in anticipation of the home-coming of a father, a son, or pe=
rhaps a brother or sweetheart.
	And those poor fellows who died in that awful catastrophe!  They had gon=
e through four long years of war, had undergone countless hardships, and =
suffered hunger, pain, and sickness, on the battlefield, and in the priso=
n, and after all these, they were now going home to loved ones, their hea=
rts filled with a great shout of joyous thanksgiving that all war and str=
ife and danger were over, and that they could once more greet the dear on=
es at home who they knew were waiting anxiously for their return.
	But for many a poor fellow on  that boat, this  dream was not to come tr=
ue.  Seventeen hundred of them were either burned to death or went down i=
nto a watery grave at thebottom of the great river.
	The names of the men lost on the Sultana from Bradley County as remember=
ed by the writer are as follows:  J. H. Collins, father of the writer; Hu=
gh S. Campbell, brother of L. D. Campbell; James O. Beard, brother of Fre=
nch Beard; Madison G. Hysinger, brother of John and Ben Hysinger.

(The above article was taken from the Plainville Times from Plainville, K=
ansas, and dated May 28, 1908.)

(J. R. Collins, writer of this article, is a brother to Mrs. Ruth M. Gere=
n, and J. H. Collins is her father.)

Information on James R. Collins as compiled by Jack Lee Murray of Albuque=
rque, NM:

James R. Collins survived the Civil War and the sinking of the Sultana.  =
We know from census figures that he was living in Miegs County, Tennessee=
, in 1880.  He was married.  His wife=B9s name was Kiziah Seaborn.  They =
were married on 14 January 1866 by T. J. Wier, Justice of the Peace

The article on the sinking of the Sultana was printed in the Plainville, =
Kansas, newspaper in1908.  James R. Collins wrote the article, but he nev=
er lived in Kansas.  He lived out his life in Tennessee.  Perhaps one of =
his children had moved to Kansas and had the article published there.  Ja=
mes died 2 May1919.  His first wife, Kizziah Seaborn died on 16 August 18=
84.  He then married Nannie Sartin on 17 February 1886.  They apparently =
had no children.

The children of James Robert Collins and Kiziah Seaborn were
Sarah M. D. Collins (listed as Dona in 1900 census) b. 12 Jan 1867
John R. and James Nathan Collins, twins b. 26 Sep 1868
Viola B. Collins b. 20 Aug 1870
Mary J. Collins b. 18 June 1873
Joseph R. Collins b. 6 July 1878
Zach A. Collins (appeared as son in 1880 census and again in 1900=8Bnot l=
isted in family Bible)

James Robert Collins received a pension for his service in the Civil War =
and his widow received a widow=B9s pension after he died.  He worked as a=
 shoemaker and harness maker in Cleveland, Tennessee, after his return fr=
om the war.  He served as a private during the war, but was a corporal fo=
r at least part of the time.

The parents of James Robert Collins were Joseph H. Collins and Sarah Sher=
rill m. 7 Dec 1843 in Haywood County, North Carolina, by Joseph Keener, a=
 justice of the peace.


--WebTV-Mail-1998452804-2362--

==== SCROOTS Mailing List ====





Go To:  #,  A,  B,  C,  D,  E,  F,  G,  H,  I,  J,  K,  L,  M,  N,  O,  P,  Q,  R,  S,  T,  U,  V,  W,  X,  Y,  Z,  Main