Donated gunboat model will be star of Sat. program at Louisiana's Port Hudson site

USS Essex (Marvin Steinback, Port Hudson SHS)

The USS Essex was a great big sister. Mess with me, and you’ll have to deal with her.

The Essex was converted in stages from a steam ferry to a fully armored Federal gunboat. Along the way, the crew saw action in the Fort Henry, Vicksburg, Port Hudson and Red River campaigns. The vessel took a beating, but it helped save the garrison in Baton Rouge, La., and it contributed to eventual victory at Port Hudson.

A 1:32 scale model of the gunboat was recently donated to Louisiana’s Port Hudson State Historic Site off U.S. 61 north of Baton Rouge.

“It is one of seven remote-controlled vessels that have a relationship to Port Hudson that I have built,” said Robert Seal, a park volunteer. “It is the largest, by far, and the most complicated.”

Using foam insulation and balsa wood, Seal, 69, crafted a vessel that is nearly 7 feet long and weighs about 30 pounds. “Everything is scratch built,” Seal told the Picket this week.

USS Essex in 1862 (Library of Congress)

(Martin Steinback, Port Hudson SHS)

Local artist Bill Toups has assisted with the USS Essex model, using a lathe to make 13 guns that comprise the business end of the ironclad.

The historic site and Seal at 11 a.m. Saturday will put on a program, “The Waterfront: Vicksburg, Port Hudson and the Fight for the Mississippi.” The event will be held at a pond that seasonally holds 1:32 models of ships that took part in Mississippi River and other campaigns. (The models are kept inside the rest of the year)

Seal, who researches their design and history, built them all, including a few in his personal collection. His entire fleet will be at Saturday’s program. The USS Essex and CSS Arkansas  -- which clashed in July 1862 -- will briefly sail across the water to help educate visitors.

The Confederacy put a lot of effort and manpower into defending the vital Mississippi River in 1861-1863.

“The whole purpose was to keep the Federals from going upriver at Port Hudson, while Vicksburg was to keep them from going downriver,” said Mike Fraering, an interpretive ranger at Port Hudson. The two forts were about 175 miles apart.

The Federal army and navy early in the war realized the importance of waterways and by controlling the Mississippi River, they could cut the Confederacy in half, disrupting commercial and military traffic and communication.

Annual re-enactment at Port Hudson (Robert and Pat Seal)

The USS Essex was heavily damaged by enemy gunfire at Fort Henry in February 1862. She was fitted with stronger armor and returned to service to take part in the Vicksburg campaign that summer. The Essex later hammered the CSS Arkansas and repelled an attack on Baton Rouge. The Arkansas was scuttled by its Rebel crew.

For a time, the USS Essex was the only Federal ironclad gunboat below Vicksburg, until July 1863.

“All the other gunboats on the southern end of the Mississippi were wooden or seagoing gunboats,” said Fraering. “The Essex had guard duty and protected wooden gunboats from gunfire. ‘Here comes the Essex to the rescue.'”

The Essex took part in the 1863 siege against Port Hudson and later served in the Red River.

The garrison at Port Hudson surrendered on July 9, 1863, five days after Vicksburg fell to the Union. Exhausted, short of supplies and knowing the fall of Vicksburg left them in a hopeless situation, the Confederates laid down their weapons after 48 days – the longest true siege on U.S. soil.

But it did not come without a few tries and heavy casualties among Federal troops and sailors over several months.

In March 1863, Union Adm. David Farragut defied Port Hudson, an earthen fort built on the east bank of the river.

“What we have on the pond is an annual static fleet,” said Seal. “They are anchored in position that represented the movement of Farragut as he attempted the battery.”

The 10 models on the pond include the Kineo, Genesee, Albatross, Monongahela, Richmond and Hartford. Seal acknowledges those models are not built with great detail, given visitors see them from about 50 feet away.

Port Hudson withstood the assault, and several of Farragut’s vessels were damaged. The USS Essex – which was about 200 feet long and had a crew of 250 -- helped rescue the crew of the sinking USS Mississippi.

The post was attacked two months later by a large Union ground force, among them soldiers of the Louisiana Native Guard, the first significant use of African-American troops during the war.

They earned respect of generals and white comrades, and black soldiers would see more action elsewhere in the months ahead.

“They were repulsed. (But) they showed they were capable,” said Fraering. “Everyone else got repulsed that day.”

The siege would continue for another six weeks.

Models are in pond February into June each year (Marvin Steinback)

Seal, an LSU retiree, said he wants to help schoolchildren learn what happened in Louisiana during the Civil War. He built a diorama of the Native Guard assault and has helped with other exhibits.

He and Fraering decided the Port Hudson story needed more of the naval aspect. “We like our boats,” Seal quipped about Louisianans.

Given the fact that he puts many of them in the water and transports and handles them, Seal says he cannot build his models to detail that includes individual rivets.

“(The Essex) is not sitting like a pretty girl. They break and if I put all the rigging and stuff on, you would have a difficult time launching them.”

Still, he wants them to be of high quality and reflect his research and period photographs.

CSS Arkansas model (Robert and Pat Seal)

Here’s a description of a radio-controlled models Seal will bring Saturday. They all likely will be placed in the water during an annual re-enactment on March 28-29.

-- CSS Arkansas: After the ironclad was intentionally sunk, its crew rushed to Port Hudson to help fortify its defenses.

-- CSS Manassas: Converted vessel fitted with iron plating, the Manassas did not see direct action at Port Hudson.

- - USS Barataria: The converted sternwheeler was lost in April 1863 during Louisiana operations.

CSS Missouri (Robert and Pat Seal)

-- CSS Missouri: Confederate ironclad paddle steam deployed in the Red River.

-- USS Carondelet: The City-class ironclad was “very effective in bombardment” and was used against Vicksburg and in the Red River Expedition.

Seal occasionally lets children use the radio controls to move the models.

“It would be good for people to learn something they didn’t know about the era, ships, crew and the different actions,” he said. “It lights me up on school days. We’ll have a couple hundred kids. There might be in a class of 30 with one or two kids that really connect with the program.”

Admission to the site and Saturday’s event is $4 per person and free for children 12 and under and those 62 and older. For more information, call (888) 677-3400 toll free or (225) 654-3775.

Gunboat models have moment in the sun during program at Louisiana site

(Photographs by Bonnie Guidry)

Two Civil War ironclads, through their miniature descendants, repeated their watery dance of death last weekend at a state park north of Baton Rouge, La. (Click photos to enlarge)

Models of the CSS Arkansas (left, above) and the newly built USS Essex tangled Saturday at Port Hudson State Historic Site. The Picket recently wrote about the gunboats ahead of the event.

Also on display were other 1:32 models made by Robert Seal, including (left to right), the CSS Manassas, the USS Barrataria and the USS Osage. They took part in naval operations on the Mississippi River during the Civil War.

USS Essex is about 6 feet long

On hand for the event were (left to right) Robert Seal; Marvin Steinback of the park; Dwight Landreneau, assistant secretary of the Office of State Parks; and Bill Toups, who lathed the cannon.

Pat Seal, Robert's wife, quipped that the USS Essex model, while under construction, was on saw horses in the living room for months until she banished it in order to put a Christmas tree. It received the final touches on their dining room table.

Marvin Steinback is dressed for the part

Abraham Lincoln's crucial blockade order on Southern ports is purchased by Illinois governor and wife and donated to presidential library in Springfield

Lincoln issued this order just after Fort Sumter fell (Photo: ALPLM)

President Abraham Lincoln’s monumental order that launched the “Anaconda Plan,” a strategy intended to place a stranglehold on the Confederacy, has been purchased and donated by Illinois’ governor and first lady to a library dedicated to the 16^th president.

Just a few days after the fall of Fort Sumter in April 1861, Lincoln issued the order, which called for a naval blockade of vital Southern ports, to be imposed in conjunction with land assaults. The seven states cited in the order had seceded from the Union by that time.

The office of Gov. J.B. Pritzker made the donation announcement Tuesday. The news was first reported by the Associated Press.

Pritzker and his wife M.K., who purchased the blockade order on behalf of the people of Illinois, on Tuesday visited the Abraham Lincoln Presidential Library and Museum in Springfield.

The document will be available for viewing in the ALPLM Treasures Gallery beginning Wednesday and will remain on display until February 2025, when it will be transferred to the ALPLM vault for safekeeping, a news release said.

Cartoon of Anaconda Plan with caricatures (Library of Congress)

“To me, this document – and the museum as a whole – serves as a reminder of how far we’ve come,” said the governor. “Despite our divisions and challenges, more than 150 years later, our nation perseveres.” 

Steve Lansdale with Heritage Auctions confirmed to the Picket that the document was sold for $471,000 in July 2023. The document – formally entitled “Order to Affix Seal of the United States to a Proclamation of a Blockade” – had been owned by anonymous private collectors.

Lansdale says the company does not release information on buyers or sellers, and Pritzker’s office declined to provide details on the purchase or price.

Andy Hall, who has written extensively about the blockade, wrote in his Dead Confederates blog that Lincoln’s proclamation “was one of a series of actions and reactions that expanded the conflict between the national government in Washington and that of the seceded southern states. The blockade order was, most directly, a response to Jefferson Davis’ call on April 17 for privateers to obtain Confederate letters of marque to attack U.S. shipping.”

While the one-page order is now at the Lincoln library, the fuller proclamation is kept at the National Archives.

Harper's Weekly depiction of chase of a blockade runner (Library of Congress)

The blockade was meant to prevent the export of cotton from the South to foreign nations and the import of essential supplies into the Confederacy, according to Pritzker’s office.

The Lincoln document reads in full:

"I hereby authorize and direct the Secretary of State to affix the Seal of the United States to a Proclamation setting on foot a Blockade of the ports of the States of South Carolina, Georgia, Alabama, Florida, Mississippi, Louisiana, and Texas, dated this day and signed by me and for so doing this shall be his warrant. Abraham Lincoln, Washington, 19th April, 1861."

Dr. Ian Hunt, the ALPLM’s acquisitions director, said the order captures Lincoln at an unprecedented moment of crisis.

“A lesser president might have dithered and delayed while searching for a ‘safe’ option,” Hunt said in a statement. “President Lincoln acted boldly by ordering a blockade. This is the symbolic tip of the spear in his long struggle to save the nation and, ultimately, end slavery."

Hunt, in a library Facebook video, provided some historical background to the Lincoln order. The president's Cabinet had some reservations about the idea, including the possibility it could be construed as recognition of the Confederacy as a nation. Union Gen. Winfield Scott argued a total blockade would be needed to crush the rebellion. 

The blockade required monitoring 3,500 miles of Atlantic and Gulf coastline with180 possible ports of entry, according to the library. “The United States had about 40 working ships at the time. By war’s end, it had 671. The Navy destroyed or captured about 1,500 Southern blockade runners over the course of the war.”

Hunt said the addition of the document to the library is "phenomenal."

In hindsight, this failed Confederate breech-loading gun may have been a bit ahead of its time (or improved technology)

Firing mechanism of Columbus breech loader (Picket photos)

The road to innovation is lined, shall we say, with disappointments.

A double-barreled cannon on outdoor display in Athens, Ga., is one such example. Its inventor hoped to convince the Confederate army that the two rounds, joined by a chain, would mow down infantry and cause chaos.

It did cause chaos. Test-fired in April 1862 in the early months of the Civil War, the gun turned out to be a flop. On one try, the chain holding the two rounds broke -- with one ball hitting a chimney and another killing a cow, according to observers. Another firing resulted in the rounds going off-center and plowing “up about an acre of ground, tore up a cornfield, mowed down saplings, and then the chain broke, the two balls going in different directions.”

About a year later and 140 miles to the southwest, innovators at the Columbus Iron Works on the banks of the Chattahoochee River were experimenting with another relative oddity at the time: breech-loading artillery.

Manufacturers in Europe were trying their hand with such technology, including production of the Whitworth, an English rifled gun that saw limited use during the Civil War. Benefits of such guns included protection for the crew by being behind the weapon, accuracy of fire and faster reloading. Southern breech-loading guns included the Williams and Hughes models.

Designers and craftsmen at the Columbus Iron Works, a large war materials, steam engine, iron cladding and artillery manufacturer for the South, decided to build and test a breech loader.

According to its history, the Columbus piece was designed by engineer and steamboat Capt. W.J. McAlister and Freeman C. Stewart, who worked for the iron works, which was then under command of the Rebel navy.

Prior to the war, some 200 steamboats traveled between Columbus south and the river’s exit in the Florida Panhandle, carrying cotton, crops and other items. Like other captains, McAlister lived near the riverfront and main wharf.

The barrel was fashioned from the wheel shaft of the steamer John C. Calhoun, which had its own misfortunate history. In 1860, its boilers exploded and the mail vessel caught fire, sinking near Ridleyville, Fla. At least one man died and others suffered horrible burns.

A 1978 article in the Columbus Ledger-Enquirer newspaper gave a brief description of how McAlister and Stewart fared in 1863.

The lathe work on the gun was done by Jacob G. Burrus. His sibling, George, paid a visit to the site, which was close to a naval yard.

"On a visit to my brother at the Columbus Iron Works, I found him engaged at the lathe turning the gun. When completed, it was tested three times, but the recoil broke the stirrup through which the breech screws passed for holding the breech plug in place.

"It was finally pronounced a failure. The federal raiders broke off a trunnion to prevent its further use. But it did service as a corner post at Springer's corner."

At this time in their development, breech loaders were fickle and presented some challenges.

An article in Wikipedia says: “The major problem to be solved with breech-loading artillery was obturation: the sealing of the breech after firing to ensure that none of the gases generated by the burning of the propellant (initially gunpowder) escaped rearwards through the breech. This was both a safety issue and one of gun performance – all the propellant gas was needed to accelerate the projectile along the barrel.

“The second problem was speed of operation – how to close the breech before firing and open it after firing as quickly as possible, consistent with safety.”

Eventually, designers came up with ways to create a safe seal and mechanisms that made the technology work. Along, the way they perfected what became forerunners of modern artillery. This Encyclopedia Brittanica article details how changes were made to improve breech-loading artillery, including increasing the strength of certain parts of the barrel to handle the pressure from firing of the weapon.

Today, the iron works gun sits outside the Columbus Museum on Wynnton Road. A sign affixed to its stand calls it “the first breech loading cannon.” It notes that Federal Wilson’s Raiders broke the trunnion when they took the city in April 1865.

(Picket photos)

The website for an auction house that sold a small replica outlined the concept: “This gun has a simplistic ingenious swiveling strap breech that allows easy access to bore for projectile and powder bag. Strap is then returned to position and screw is turned which closes breech, then friction primer is positioned through breech seal for firing.”

The Columbus Museum’s website says: “The breech-loading cannon is a testament to Columbus residents’ ingenuity and innovation in time of war.” It notes the North did not develop such a weapon, instead using a few imported Whitworths.

What became of the investors of the Columbus breech-loader? I have had no luck on McAlister, but Freeman died in February 1908 at age 77. He was superintendent of the Columbus Iron Works for 30 years after the war.

The W.C. Bradley Co. donated the cannon to the museum in 2016.

MIA: I've misplaced (lost!) paper written by Yankee soldier in 1864

If I weren't sitting down while writing this, I'd be kicking myself.

I've spent several hours trying to find something very precious to me. I have on weathered writing paper a Union soldier's handwritten copy of the lyrics to a sentimental song written during the Civil War.

Charles Carroll Sawyer wrote "Who Will Care for Mother Now?" in 1863. It became a maudlin hit among soldiers.

Many years years back, my northeast Missouri grandparents gave me a bag of old letters, bills and papers that once belonged to a neighboring family.

Most were addressed to a John Jones.

Among the papers was the now-missing sheet of folded paper. It is dated in the summer of 1864 in Resaca, Ga., site of a major battle a few weeks before. The ruled paper includes an embossed seal from some Federal unit. I couldn't believe I had a piece of paper that was written by a homesick soldier in enemy territory.

I did a little research 15 years or so ago and put the lyrics away for safekeeping. Or so I thought. I've looked all over the house for it.

No luck.

I will keep searching and kicking myself. For now, here are the lyrics:

Who Will Care for Mother Now?
(Charles Sawyer)

Why am I so weak and weary?
See how faint my heated breath,
All around to me seems darkness,
Tell me, comrades, is this death?
Ah! how well I know your answer,
To my fate I meekly bow,
If you'll only tell me truly,
Who will care for mother now?

cho: Soon with angels I'll be marching
With bright laurels on my brow;
I have for my country fallen,
Who will care for mother now?

Who will comfort her in sorrow?
Who will dry the falling tear?
Gently smooth he wrinkled forehead?
Who will whisper words of cheer?
Even now I think I see her
Kneeling, praying for me! How
Can I leave her in anguish
Who will care for mother now?

Let this knapsack be my pillow,
And my mantle be the sky.
Hasten, comrades to the battle
I will like a soldier die.
Soon with angels I'll be marching
With bright laurels on my brow;
I have for my country fallen,
Who will care for mother now?

Plucky Cockspur lighthouse at Fort Pulaski gets help in fight against newer dangers

(NPS photo)

As lighthouses go, the sentinel on Georgia’s Cockspur Island is diminutive, measuring only 46 feet from base to the top of its cupola.

But don’t underestimate this structure, which has endured high tides, hurricanes, waves from ever-growing container ships, careless individuals, vandals and – for a deafening 30 hours – the bombardment of nearby Fort Pulaski during the Civil War.

The Cockspur light’s masonry base was built in the shape of a ship’s prow to deflect the forces that have worn away at her, consuming much of the small island that serves as its foundation. And while her light was extinguished more than a century ago, the beloved beacon exudes charm for boaters and those making the trek on U.S. 80 from Savannah to Tybee Island.

“She really is a tough lady,” said Harvey Ferrelle, head of the Friends of Cockspur Island Lighthouse, a group that works with the National Park Service staff at Fort Pulaski National Monument – which manages the lighthouse -- to preserve and protect the structure.

Robert Knox Sneden map (Library of Congress)

Remarkably, the lighthouse suffered little or no damage during the April 10, 1862, Union bombardment of Fort Pulaski. Crews manning 36 guns on 11 batteries stretching along the western end of Tybee Island likely used the lighthouse for sighting as they pounded away at the fort located about 1 mile beyond.

“Not much point to aiming at the lighthouse,” said Charlie Crawford, who as president of the Georgia Battlefields Association has led tours of Civil War sites in the Savannah area. “If the Federals could capture the port, the lighthouse would be useful.”

While the lighthouse weathered the war and helped mariners for a couple more generations, age and exposure to elements have taken a toll.

A new round of maintenance and restoration is expected to begin this Monday (Dec. 7). Ferrelle said he expects professionals and volunteers to repoint and clean interior bricks, put in a new door and seal glass and other fittings. Work on weakened wrought-iron railing will take place later.

Fort Pulaski’s Joel Cadoff said the friends group raised $25,000 for lighthouse protection through a Centennial Challenge Grant and the NPS matched it. A full restoration of the lighthouse would require much more funding.

The help can’t come soon enough for the Cockspur Island Lighthouse and island, which were recently closed to the public. NPS officials cited the precarious ecological situation and increased vandalism.

Fort Pulaski is a mile beyond the lighthouse (NPS)

In 2013, the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers placed boulders and rip-rap on the island to counter tides and higher shipping waves. The stabilization project also helped establish a base for oyster bed restoration, with the distribution of about three tons of oyster shells.

“If left alone, they will reproduce and the stack will form new oysters,” said Ferrelle. “People have been trampling on the oysters we left there.”

Ferrelle, who operates a boat-based tour company, said before the closure people were seen hanging over the sides or sitting on top of the cupola.

Some people who paddled up to the island at low tide disregarded signs and went inside. A fall from the top, Ferrelle said, would have a single consequence: “They won’t get hurt. They’ll get dead.”

Eventually, officials would like to see the lighthouse and island reopen to visitors. The goal, Ferrelle said, is to “maintain her as a historic place and a treasure. It’s not just a toy you go out and goof around with.”

War comes to coastal Savannah

The South Channel of the Savannah River was the prime gateway to Savannah in its early years. One brick tower, used as a landmark, was built on Cockspur Island between 1837 and 1839. A major upgrade came about a decade later when an illuminated station was built. That tower has a focal plane 25 feet above sea level, according to the NPS.

A hurricane leveled the lighthouse in 1854 and a new tower was rebuilt the next year. The dawn of the Civil War brought a temporary extinguishment of its light.

Remnants of Battery Halleck (Picket photo)

Then the war itself came to Cockspur Island, home to Fort Pulaski.

The Union’s strategy was to put a chokehold on Southern commerce by controlling ports and coastal areas, including this area next to the Atlantic Ocean. Federal soldiers landed at Tybee Island and set about preparing for an attack on Fort Pulaski, a brick guardian just a few miles to the west.

Col. Olmsted

Capt. Quincy A. Gillmore, a Federal engineer officer, began the bombardment on April 10, 1862, after Col. Charles H. Olmstead refused to surrender.

“The Federal batteries were 1,500 to 4,000 yards away from the fort,” Crawford said. “Part of Battery Halleck is still discernible on the south side of the road. Had the Federals chosen to aim at the lighthouse, the closest batteries would have been about 700 yards from it.”

The Confederate garrison at Fort Pulaski would learn first-hand about advances in technology.

“When Fort Pulaski was built (1830s, with Robert E. Lee as one of the principal engineers), the rifled gun was not around, so thick masonry walls were the best type of fortification, and the distance to Tybee Island would prevent any 1830s-era gun from getting close enough to do significant damage,” said Crawford. “By 1862, the James Rifles blasted apart the walls relatively quickly.”

Rifled shot pulverized Fort Pulaski (Picket photo)

The situation steadily grew worse.

“When the breach on the southeast bastion allowed the Federals to shoot across the parade ground and start bouncing shells off the temporary wood wall in front of the powder magazine, Olmsted knew that a potentially catastrophic explosion was likely,” said Crawford. He surrendered on April 11.

Pulaski remained in Federal hands and the city fell in December 1864 in the closing months of the conflict. About a year after the war’s end, on April 25, 1866, the beacon was relit and painted white for continued use as an navigational aid.

A storm in 1881 destroyed the keeper’s residence and the surge filled the lighthouse interior with seawater. The plucky tower remained in duty for another three decades, but the writing was on its walls.

To accommodate large freighters, the Savannah port routed vessels to the deep, more navigable North Channel. Effective June 1, 1909, the beacon light was snuffed. Its Fresnel light is long gone.

Today, an overlook trail offers Pulaski visitors the closest look at the lighthouse.

Stairs lack safety rail in lighthouse (NPS photo)

Taking it for granted

Nature’s assault on the lighthouse has continued, with officials fighting back against the effects of erosion and shipworms on wooden support timbers.

In 2008, the Georgia Trust for Historic Preservation put the lighthouse on its annual list of 10 "Places in Peril."

Cadoff said short-term needs include work on the exterior envelope, floor surface, stair, interior wall cleaning, repointing, and all other metal and wood work conservation. Ferrelle, of the nonprofit friends group, said he expects a new, secure door will be placed in the structure. The interior stairway has no railing, another reason officials have been concerned about safety.

Concerns about erosion extend to the wharf area north of the fort itself. A recent project brought in tons of dredged sand.

Savannah Technical College is helping in the latest lighthouse effort, and the Savannah Community Foundation assists the friends group in fund-raising.

The friends group has been in existence officially since 2008. Ferrelle, a lifelong Savannah resident, said it became apparent the Cockspur Island Lighthouse needed more than a dash of TLC.

(NPS photos)

“It is one of those things you take for granted,” he said. “It is just part of the scenery. It became a great place to go fishing.”

He said he is concerned about a trend of higher tides that hammer away at the tower’s foundation. Water comes up over the doorway a couple of times a year. A better door and sealed bricks will help fight the effects, he said.

Until deeper federal and private funding is secured, work on the lighthouse sometimes feels like triage.

“We have to do maintenance that will keep her in good state while looking out for the long term,” said Ferrelle.

Photo collector David Vaughan pens essays that detail the rich stories of Georgia soldiers. Still, the vast majority of Civil War images are unidentified

David W. Vaughan at 2023 Phoenix flies (Picket photo) and images of Georgia soldiers 
William Raines, Randolph Spalding and Alfred Cantrell, described below (David Wynn Vaughan Collection)

David Wynn Vaughan enjoys the thrill of the hunt.

The longtime collector of photographs depicting Confederate soldiers -- many from Georgia -- has a seasoned eye for ones that stand out. “I love (subjects) that are heavily armed,” he says. “I love tinted photographs. It crosses over to artwork to me.”

Vaughan’s pursuit doesn’t end at a purchase. He becomes that soldier’s storyteller, researching and writing a modest biography that highlights service, combat and the subject’s personal attributes – heroic and perhaps less so.

Vaughan will talk about his passion Wednesday evening in Atlanta and show pictures of a dozen or more soldiers and give an overview of their wartime lives.

I attended Vaughan’s captivating talk last year at the Atlanta Preservation Center, the same site for this week’s “Southern Photography in the American Civil War.”

The program is part of the center’s annual Phoenix Flies. Participants over several weeks can attend the “preservation celebration” at scores of sites across the Atlanta area.

The collector told me he is going to add some new material and speak about research discoveries since March 2023.

The internet has been a huge boost since Vaughan began collecting some 40 years ago. “It has totally changed my collecting habit. I look at history as much as the photo,” he tells the Picket. (Photo at left courtesy David Wynn Vaughan Collection)

Vaughan, an Atlanta Realtor, is well-known in Civil War photography circles for his premier collection of hundreds of images and his precise research.

About 50 of his photos and biographies have been published in Georgia Backroads magazine, with 8-12 hours of work going into each profile.

“David Vaughan is a terrific resource for Georgia history,” says Dan Roper, editor and publisher of Georgia Backroads. “His Civil War photograph collection is superb and he does a great job finding and writing backstories.”

Vaughan’s efforts garnered some national attention some 15 years ago in an article in Garden & Gun, a copy of which sits in a framed case at home (below). His photographs have also appeared in Military Images, including one depicting a fighting minister.

(Courtesy of David Wynn Vaughan)

“Every time I buy a new portrait, I’m off on a new tangent,” Vaughan told Garden & Gun. “I research each one, so I get to learn and grow. I chase down their history, their letters, their thoughts. It’s enriching. And it’s surprising.”

During his presentations, Vaughan weaves anecdotes about how he came to acquire some of the images – being strung along by sellers or learning fascinating details about a soldier from descendants.

He has about 100 photographs of Georgia soldiers. “You can literally put a book together on some of these guys.” Among the men he has researched for Georgia Backroads:

-- Pvt. Alfred Webb Cantrell of Cobb’s Legion cavalry (right): Cantrell was one of three brothers to join up. His unit fought at Brandy Station and skirmishes leading up to Gettysburg, and later Petersburg. Cantrell took part in every engagement except when in Georgia in 1864 to help procure horses. After the war, Cantrell took his family to Warrensburg, Mo., where he died in 1917 at age 75. Cantrell poses in the ambrotype with a revolver and cavalry saber. He wears a nine-button shell jacket and an oval Georgia state seal buckle, upside down for some reason.

-- Col. Randolph Spalding, 29^th Georgia: Spalding was a member of a prominent family on the Georgia coast. His unit was stationed in Savannah and South Carolina, and he was reported by a sergeant to be “shamefully drunk” before battle at Fort Walker. An officer in another unit said Spalding attached himself as a private to a South Carolina regiment and fought throughout the day. He resigned for unknown reasons in December 1861 and died of pneumonia at age 39 in Savannah.  A newspaper said “a more generous and kind-hearted man never lived.” The ambrotype of Spalding depicts him in a double-breasted jacket, with three stars on his collar. He strikes a Napoleonic pose, with hand in jacket.

(Photos courtesy David Wynn Vaughan Collection)

-- Pattillo brothers: Left to right in the portrait above are Benjamin, George, James and John Pattillo, who served in Company K of the 22^nd Georgia Infantry from Henry County. The regiment took part in “prolonged, arduous campaigns” from Seven Pines, Gettysburg and Cold Harbor to the Petersburg trenches and surrender at Appomattox. Benjamin died at Second Manassas and James and John were wounded during the war. The 1861 ambrotype features Corsican cap covers over their kepis. The brothers hold Bowie knives and George’s shell jacket has red tape trim on either side of the buttons.

-- Sgt. William Green Gaither Raines, 9^th Georgia Infantry: The Walton County, Ga., man and his regiment fought in Virginia at first. It suffered brutal casualty numbers at Gettysburg and Raines was wounded a few days later. He died on Nov. 18, 1863, during a skirmish around Knoxville, Tenn. He was about 29. His brother, Littleton, died a few weeks later during an assault on Fort Sanders in Knoxville. In an ambrotype, Raines wears a seven-button jacket and the image is housed in a handmade case with a rare black embossed paper mat. “There was a shortage of photographic supplies in the South because of the Union naval blockade,” Vaughan wrote in Georgia Backroads, and photographers improvised by making their own cases

-- Col. John Hart, 6^th Georgia Cavalry (right): “Although a man of the cloth, he loved hard liquor and single women,” Vaughan wrote in Georgia Backroads. Hart used his hot temper and Rebel yell to lead charges. He was wounded in July 1864 near Atlanta and got into a row a month later with another officer, leading to talk of a duel. His regiment chased the Union army all the way to Durham, N.C. The officer returned to Floyd County, where he died in 1878 at age 52. In his portrait, Hart wears a seven-button, double-breasted frock coat, and the stars on his collar and gold braid denote has rank as colonel.

Ode to just a boy: 'Not knowing your real enemy'

Roper of Georgia Backroads says Vaughan’s “photos are terrific and have drawn a lot of interest from readers.”

Vaughan, as a freelancer, provided a photograph of a Union soldier for the spring 2011 issue of Georgia Backroads. Pvt. Rasho Crane, a musician with the 7^th Wisconsin Infantry, was captured at the Wilderness and died at Andersonville prison in Georgia. His grave marker gives his last name as Cram.

Crane was only 15 when he died, just a few months after enlistment. The magazine says it chose Crane for the cover as representative of the huge human loss at Camp Sumter (Andersonville).

The publication of Crane’s photo inspired writer Emma Cottrell, then in her 80s, to drive to Andersonville, find Crane’s grave, lay two roses on it and then write a poem about the photo and his story, says Roper. 

Cottrell’s poem reads, in part:

“I stand before your grave, Rasho Crane,
far from Wisconsin and the waters of Lake Michigan:
the green fields of Kenosha.
I saw your photograph in a magazine;
a Union boy, a stranger, someone’s son.
Pathos struck my heart and I could not choose
but follow you to this place. In the strange
silence growing round me, I close my eyes
and see you again; young, hot-blooded,
impatient -- lured from home to fight,
not knowing your real enemy was Fate.

-- Emma Cottrell and Georgia Backroads

Who is this man whose photo was put in Macon time capsule?

Civil War-era photos of identified soldiers, of course, are a premium for collectors and that’s who Vaughan generally acquires.

“You can find out so many nuances of the images, based on the identity of the soldier,” Vaughan told me. “You can find where it was made, when it was made. It could be a first- or second-issue uniform.”

He does occasionally buy unidentified images and has been able to learn their names in about a half dozen cases. But it’s tough.

Officials hope to verify the identity of this man (Historic Macon Foundation)

The Cannonball House in Macon, Ga., reached out to Vaughan for help identifying a man whose ambrotype or tintype image was in a time capsule placed under the base of a Confederate monument in 1878. (The monument was moved in 2022 and the weathered time capsule was opened.)

The man likely was a Civil War veteran, given the monument was topped by a marble Confederate soldier holding a rifle, and he appears to wear a uniform. Are the crutches he holds the result of a battle injury or did the need to use them rise after war’s end?

Vaughan says the crutches stand out and raise many questions. He believes the man is possibly wearing a Confederate jacket, but it’s tough to tell whether it has military buttons. There is no insignia, but Vaughan believes it may be a navy-use coat.

“He was probably lucky to be alive. He was convalescing. It could have been made in a studio or could have been in a camp. It is important for him to be photographed with crutches.”

Research leads enthusiasts down many rabbit holes as they seek an identity. “We don’t know who he is. More times than not you are so far off-base,” says Vaughan.

Cheryl Aultman, executive director of the Cannonball House, confirmed on March 17 the man remains unidentified.

Tough battle to identify the unknown photo subjects

Ronald S. Coddington, editor and publisher of Military Images, explains why so many Civil War photographs pose identification challenges.

“Hard-plate photos, including daguerreotypes, ambrotypes, and tintypes, tend to be less identified because it was not easy to do so. The most common practice was to tuck a note, and maybe a lock of hair, poem, or other items, into the case behind the image,” Coddington wrote in an email.

“Less common is writing on the back of the image plate, or scratching a name into the surface emulsion. Paper photographs, including cartes de visite and other albumen prints, were much easier to identify because identifying information could be written directly on the print surface, or, more commonly, the mount. I estimate maybe 5 percent of hard plates and 20 percent of paper photos are identified, though not all are airtight.”

Ron Coddington at the Chickamauga Civil War Show in 2018 (Picket photo)

Cartes de visite (CDVs) were easier and cheaper to produce and were given out in larger numbers.

Internet sites, notably Civil War Faces on Facebook and Civil War Photo Sleuth, are a boon to professional collectors and amateurs wanting to put a name to a face.

Civilwarphotosleuth.com has made it possible to use face recognition in combination with classic photo sleuthing techniques to identify soldiers and sailors, says Coddington, who recommended I upload the Macon image there.

I did so in November 2022, asking others to weigh in. I compared his face to possible matches, but have had no luck thus far in identifying him.

David W. Vaughan at last spring's Phoenix Flies talk (Civil War Picket)

A Georgia photo collector uploaded the photograph on Civil War Faces. An inventory of the 1878 time capsule lists H.C. Tindall of Macon as the donor of the photograph and a miniature Confederate flag worn by a soldier. Another source gives his name as M.C. Tillman.

That post did not yield any concrete answers, and it’s not certain whether the subject is a Tindall or Tillman – or someone else.

Another contributing factor to the high number of unidentified portraits is they were never intended for public consumption.

“These were personal, family artifacts to be cherished. In many cases, names were not required because the recipient knew the sitter,” Coddington writes.

Concerns about loss of context and provenance

Those who want to get into serious collecting can expect to spend significant money.

Vaughan tells the Picket he rarely discuss prices “because it opens up a Pandora's box of possibilities.” Many factors determine value and it can be difficult for the beginning collector or dealer to grasp because every image is an original and the price is greatly determined from the subject matter, he says.

“Some of the first images I purchased over 30 years ago were in the hundreds of dollars. Quality Confederate and Union images have continued to climb in value. Expect to pay several thousand dollars for a clear, armed and identified image.”

Part of a very big collection (Courtesy of David Wynn Vaughan)

Coddington points out that collectible items can lose their context – and perhaps identity -- over time.

“As images became separated from families and moved into the marketplace they often became separated from diaries, letters, uniforms, weapons and equipment. Breaking up these personal items resulted in more money for the sellers, who could find more buyers for single items rather than a single buyer willing to spend a lot of money to buy an entire intact collection. As a result, many single artifacts made their way into collections of those who really appreciated them, but at the cost of destroying the provenance and context.”

Vaughan says he wants his collection to be kept together, wherever it ends up. “It would be hard to put it back together again” if they were sold off individually, he says.

The collector acknowledges he is in essence a custodian of the photographs. “I only own them for a while.”

Vaughan’s talk Wednesday at the Atlanta Preservation Center, 327 St. Paul Avenue SE, Atlanta, Ga. 30312, begins at 7 p.m. You can register for free admission here. Event capacity is limited.