SULTANA-L Archives

From: Bill Adkins <>
Subject: [Sultana] APRIL 15, 1923
Date: Mon, 29 Dec 2003 12:29:03 -0500

1865 and Survivor of Disaster

William Norton is one of Ohio's few living survivors of the famous
Sultana disaster. He was a passenger on the old Mississippi River
packet when its boilers exploded near Vicksburg on the night of April
27, 1865, and he was one of the few saved. One thousand and five men,
mostly federal soldiers who had been held prisoners by the
Confederates during the Civil War and who were being exchanged for
Confederate prisoners held in the North, lost their lives on the
Sultana disaster.

Norton now is 82. He says that every year on the anniversary of the
Sultana sinking, he lives over again his harrowing experiences. "And
I often wonder how I ever managed to get out of it alive," he
reminisces at his home. Norton was a member of Company C of the 115th
OVI. He was captured at LaVergne, Tennessee in December 1864 and
landed at the Confederate prison at Cahaba, Alabama. "The river banks
overflowed and the prisoners," he says, "had to stand knee deep in
water for two days, scarcely getting any sleep and being fed only a
pint of corn meal a day." They then were transferred to a prison camp
at Selma, and then to Camp Fisk near Vicksburg, Mississippi. April 25,
1865, he was put on board the Sultana to be sent north in exchange for
Confederate prisoners. Norton tells the story this way:

"I was sleeping on the forward part of the upper deck on the night of
April 27 when the boiler explosion awakened me. All was confusion.
Hundreds of men leaped overboard and others were burned to death. The
river was full of men struggling with each other and the boat was
burning rapidly. The flames were within a few feet of me when I
jumped. I tried to swim, but others jumping from the burning boat
pushed me under the surface time and time again. One man caught hold
of me but I squirmed from his grasp and instinctively turned toward
the burning boat."

"Swimming alongside, I caught hold of an iron ring near the waters
edge, which was used to tie the boat. A drowning man clasped me about
the neck. The strain on my arm was terrible. To let go the ring meant
death for both of us. He finally loosened his death grip on my neck
and sank. The wheel house of the boat fell over with a crash, and
after resting by hanging onto the ring, I struck out and started to
swim."

"I came upon a box floating nearby and grabbed it, managing to keep
afloat and stroking with my feet. The darkness was so intense when the
flames of the ship died down that I could see nothing. Weak from lack
of food, cold and suffering cramps from the cold water, I tried feebly
to keep afloat, all the time hearing the screams of the drowning and
those who were burning to death in the cabins of the sinking ship."

"I kept on stroking feebly. Suddenly, some brush struck my face. I
grasped for it and caught hold of a log protruding from the shore and
hung there until rescued. I found afterward I had landed nearly three
miles from where the boat went down."

Norton, not long ago, recalling his frightful experience, wrote a poem
on the Sultana disaster which was published in the book LOSS OF THE
SULTANA AND REMINISCENCES OF ITS SURVIVORS, written by Rev. C.D.
Berry. Some of the verses follow:

Midnight's dreary hour has passed,
The mists of night are falling fast,
Sultana sounds her farewell blast,
And braves the mighty stream;
The swollen river's banks o'erflow'
The leaden clouds are hanging low,
And veil the stars' bright silver glow,
And darkness reigns supreme.

On sails the steamer through the gloom,
On sleep the soldiers to their doom,
And death's dark angel---oh! so soon---
Calls loud the muster roll;
A burst, a crash, and timbers fly,
And flame and steam leap to the sky,
And men awakened but to die,
Commend to God their souls.

Out from the flame's encircling fold,
Like a mighty rush of warriors bold,
They leap to the river dark and cold,
And search for the hidden shore;
In the cabins---and pinioned there,
Amid the smoke and fire and glare,
The awful wail of death's despair
Is heard above the roar.

Out on the river's rolling tide,
Out from the steamer's burning side,
Out where the circle is growing wide,
They battle with the waves;
And drowning men each other clasp,
And writihing in death's closing trap,
They struggle bravely, but at last,
Sink to watery graves.

Oh! For the star's bright sliver light!
Oh! For the moon to dispel the night!
Oh! For a hand that should guide right,
The way to the distant land!
Clinging to driftwood and floating down,
Caught in the eddies and whirling around,
Washed to the flooded banks are found,
The survivors of that band.

CLEVELAND PLAIN DEALER
APRIL 15, 1923

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• [Sultana] APRIL 15, 1923 by Bill Adkins <>