This Model 1840 sword wields a remarkable story. A Union sergeant bestowed it at war's end to a Confederate prisoner with whom he shared the name Lemon

Model 1840 sword, blade detail and leather frog (Picket photos), Capt. Lemon during the Civil War

Capt. James Lile Lemon might have walked with a limp to shield what he was carrying in his trousers. Or perhaps he somehow covered the gift as he left Fort Delaware for freedom after serving years in Union prisons.

Whatever the circumstances, the Confederate officer was determined to bring the item back to his home in Acworth, Ga. And that’s where it is kept today – 160 years later.

I visited the Lemon house recently during events marking two new Civil War markers out front, one describing Lemon’s service and the other the Federal occupation of the town in June 1864. Maj. Gen. William T. Sherman used the residence as his headquarters for a couple days.

I asked Mark Lemon, who was sitting in a rocker on his front porch, whether I could see any of the captain’s belongings. Lemon’s second great-grandfather was remarkable for not only his military service, but his penchant for saving nearly everything he owned during the Civil War.

Most of the artifacts are in the collection of the Atlanta History Center, which purchased them in 2020 from the widow of a Macon, Ga., collector.

But one that stayed in the family is an NCO sword given to James Lemon at Fort Delaware in June 1865 after he finally took an oath of allegiance to the United States. The Confederate had earned the respect of one of the prison staff, who also had the name Lemon -- Sgt. Lemon Kline of the 215^th Pennsylvania Infantry. It’s easy to speculate whether the shared name had anything to do with their apparent friendship.

I don’t know whether the two men – who were both in their 30s during the Civil  – maintained a friendship after the war, but Mark Lemon said the story goes Kline told James Lemon, “Tell your family you once knew a good Yankee.”

Mark Lemon showed me the sword and a framed piece of paper written by James Lemon, who routinely made notes on his belongings. The note mentioned how he came to receive the sword.

(Civil War Picket photo)

One side of the blade (above) records it was made by Ames Manufacturing of Chicopee, Mass., a significant provider of weapons and tools for the Union. Some consider Ames the Cadillac of US military sword makers during the period.

The reverse has the stamp:

U.S.
ADK
1863

I am no sword expert, so I turned to the Authentic Campaigner Facebook group for help.

Built for combat, used mostly for presentation

I quickly learned the weapon is a Model 1840 sword for use largely by infantry and artillery NCOs. The initials ADK indicate the name of the manufacture inspector. The handle is made of brass.

When I examined the blade, I noticed it was quite light and not sharpened. Some commenters compared it to the spadroon, a light sword with a straight-edged blade.

One commenter said this model was mostly a symbol of rank and authority. The military used the sword, based on French and English models, for about 70 years.

So it is understandable Kline, as a sergeant, would have carried one. (At left, a Union NCO holds a Model 1840 sword, Library of Congress). Some of the weapons were issued to musician NCOs.

Another commenter presented a brief history of the weapon and a different take on its usefulness.

“Don't believe the hype where folks say that swords were unimportant to the war. This particular model sword may not have been frequently used in combat, mostly because sergeants would be using their bayonet in hand-to-hand combat before resorting to the sword.

"Regardless, this design of sword was intended for combat, with a design used for over a century, and not exclusively for presentation.”

The Model 1840 also could have been useful in “directing traffic” by keep troops and inmates in a straight line. 

Interestingly, the scabbard of Lemon's sword is made of leather. A few Authentic Campaigner commenters noted the "frog," a piece of leather which allows the wearer to carry a sword for a short time, likewise was in very good condition and at least as valuable as the sword.

Lemon items will get big play in next exhibit

Two years ago, the Atlanta History Center invited Lemon descendants to see the amazing collection, which is not currently on display. Mark Lemon showed the sword to AHC senior military historian and curator Gordon Jones.

Mark Lemon (left) brought the sword to the Atlanta History Center in 2023. (Picket photo)

The Lemon collection – which features  a captured drum, revolver, letters, canteen, photographs and much more -- will be showcased in its own case after a revamp of the center’s aged “Turning Point: The American Civil War” exhibit. (The sword will remain with the family).

“That story has a lot to say about Confederate soldiers' wartime experiences,” Jones recently told me.  

The historian said the new exhibit is set to open in June 2026. It will go deeper into “causes and results,” including slavery, politics and Reconstruction. There will still be plenty of weapons and military items on display in that space and the Goldstein gallery, Jones said.

The George Wray Jr. collection of rare Confederate weapons will be in the Goldstein space.

Confederate captain reluctantly took oath

Mark Lemon keeps this note by his ancestor near the Model 1840 sword (Picket photo)

James L. Lemon served with Company A, 18^th Georgia Infantry, part of John Bell Hood’s Texas Brigade. He enlisted as a second lieutenant in 1861 for a three-year term. Lemon was described as having a “light complexion, dark hair, blue eyes, [and] 6 feet” in height.

The regiment fought in numerous Eastern battles – including Antietam, Fredericksburg, Second Manassas and Chancellorsville. The farmer and merchant from Acworth had a close call at Gettysburg, when a Yankee bullet struck his canteen, causing it to strike his head.

His combat days came to a close in November 1863, when Lemon was severely wounded by a Minie ball in the pharynx and taken prison after an assault on Fort Sanders in Knoxville, Tenn. .

By the time he arrived at Fort Pulaski, Ga., in October 1864, Lemon had already been in at three Federal prisons: One in Louisville, Ky; Camp Chase in Ohio and Fort Delaware, Delaware. He kept several diaries. The officer etched his name onto a wall at Pulaski.

Capt. Lemon etched his name and regiment into a wall at Fort Pulaski (Picket photo)

In March 1865, the Rebel officers, including Lemon, were returned to Fort Delaware, where they were held until the end of the war. Shortly after their return to Delaware, the captain’s diary describes harsh conditions at Fort Pulaski and alleged mistreatment by his captors. 

“We have recently returned to this place after a most brutal & cowardly outrage against humanity. I cannot now speak of the sufferings & deprivations & humiliations we were subjected to. Many among us are now dead from starvation, disease, shot or beaten to death and the rest of us are about used up from the shameful journey forced upon us by the Yanks. I know not of the reason for this but we are told it is for some reported offense against a few of their prisoners in Charleston.”

He held off taking the oath for two months after Appomattox but finally relented.

In his journal, Lemon wrote: “I have done the unspeakable but I am now paroled & today set out for home. My duty to my country is done, mine to my family remains.”

Lemon returned to Acworth and had 11 children with his wife Eliza. He was a retail merchant and then a bank executive. He was serving as president of the bank when he died on June 12, 1907, at age 71.

Mark Lemon has lived in the house for 30 years and with the help of friends, has been restoring the home’s exterior and side buildings, with plans to turn to the interior.

The house is painted in bright yellow (a suitable color?), but he says it was clad in white for at least a short time in the 19^th century.

Illness sidelined Lemon Kline in two great battles

I have been unable to learn a great deal about Kline, beyond service and pension records. The blue-eyed farmer lived in York County before and following the Civil War.

Much of what I learned comes from a Findagrave page, which lists his birth as July 24, 1830.

Sgt. Lemon Kline's Pennsylvania veterans card via Fold3

Rosters indicate he first enlisted in the 30^th Pennsylvania Infantry

“Admitted to a Washington hospital on September 9, 1862, for illness, he almost certainly missed the battle of Antietam. He returned to duty but was again hospitalized January 18 through July 1, 1863, thus missing the battle of Gettysburg,” says the page.

He was transferred to the state’s Veteran Reserve Corps and honorably discharged in June 1864.

Kline reenlisted in late March 1865 in Lancaster, joining the 215^th Pennsylvania. Presumably at Fort Delaware, he was promoted to first sergeant on April 21. He was mustered out with his company on July 31.

He apparently got a disability pension in 1878. The 1880 census lists the veteran, his wife, Catharine, and three daughters and three sons. Kline died at age 69 in November 1899 and his widow received a pension. She died in 1904.

The York County History Center has not been able to locate a photograph of the soldier.

“However, it does seem we have some information on him and his family, including census abstracts, his marriage record, and cemetery record,” said library assistant Emma Streb.

(At right, Findagrave photo courtesy ajtarman710)

A view of the sword and scabbard on the porch of the Lemon house in Acworth, Ga. (Picket photo)

For her (and his) eyes only: Candid correspondence between brigadier general and his young bride are donated to Virginia Tech. Their honesty still resonates

A letter exchanged by the Whartons (Virginia Tech) and a 2022 book about them

The recent donation to Virginia Tech of more than 500 letters exchanged by a Confederate general and his young wife is all the more remarkable because those she sent survived.

Civil War historian and author William C. “Jack” Davis explained why in an interview about the correspondence between Brig. Gen. Gabriel C. Wharton and Anne “Nannie” Radford Wharton from early 1863 to July 1865.

“Typically, the woman’s letters -- wife, mother, whomever -- didn’t survive because they got carried around in a soldier’s knapsack, got wet or were read or reread until they fell apart,” Davis said in 2022. “But General Wharton kept her letters, and every few months he would send them all back to her, and he told her to put them all together into a book to preserve them.”

Virginia Tech on Monday announced the donation of the letters and other 19^th century papers by Sue Heth Bell (left), a 1988 alumna and great-great-granddaughter of Wharton. She lives in Wellesley, Mass. (Virginia Tech photo)

When Gen. Wharton passed away in 1906 (Nannie died in 1890), he left the papers in steamer trunks and boxes in his Glencoe Mansion in Radford. The family sold the property in the 1980s (it is now a museum). Bell’s mother took the boxes to Florida, unaware of their contents, according to the Roanoke Times. Sue Bell located the letters in 2012.

“Buried under what seemed like a pile of forgotten papers, were over 1,000 Civil War era documents, including deeply personal letters that offer an unfiltered glimpse into history,” Bell said in a Virginia Tech article about the correspondence, much of which was stitched together.

Bell spent years going over what was inside. She and Davis collaborated on a 2022 book, “The Whartons’ War,” featuring many of the candid letters. It covers their courtship (He was 37, she 19 when they married), the course of the war, life at home, news from the front, the general’s superiors and more. Bell and Davis spoke Saturday night at Virginia Tech about the southwest Virginia couple.

One bit of correspondence must have been particularly difficult.

According to the Roanoke Times, Gabriel wrote Nannie to say her brother, Col. John Taylor Radford, had been wounded. Radford later died.

“One of the most powerful moments came on Nov. 15, 2018, when I opened a letter from Nov. 15, 1864,” Bell told Virginia Tech. “My heart stopped as I read that Nannie’s brother Johnnie had been shot -- presumed mortally but not confirmed. I forced myself to wait until the next day to learn his fate just as his family had to wait for the news. I kept reminding myself that these people had been dead for over 160 years but in that moment, their anguish felt so real. I can still feel my own emotion as I read that terrible letter.” (Virginia Tech photo of a letter)

Bell discovered signed orders of the day from Gens. Jubal Early and John C. Breckinridge, both of whom Wharton fought alongside, and documents reflecting Confederate roll calls of troops and sick calls, according to the Roanoke newspaper.

Davis, in his interview with “America’s Civil War,” said the letters collection “opens the door on southwestern Virginia itself -- on what was going on in one of those overlooked backwaters that was, in fact, vitally important to the Confederacy, in part because it was home to the only east-west railroad, and it was a major source of lead, coal, and other such essentials.” (At right, Sue Bell with Aaron Purcell of VT University Libraries)

The article was titled “A Confederate Love Affair: Was This the Most Romantic Couple of the Civil War?”

Davis describes Nannie as shrewd and direct.

“Whereas General Wharton is all about feeling. It’s like someone today who at the drop of a hat will start gushing about how he’s feeling. I’m not saying he’s not manly. He doesn’t seem hung up in the male ethic of the time. He’s willing to be very sensitive and vulnerable, and his openness with her is pretty striking,” Davis told the magazine

The officer served in Virginia and Tennessee, and his regiments included the 45^th and 51^st Virginia Infantry. As a brigade commander he fought at New Market, Cold Harbor and during Early’s raid on Washington, D.C.

After the war, Gen. Wharton was involved in mining and became instrumental in the development of a railroad line. He served in the state legislature and with Virginia Tech boards in the 1870s. The campus is in Blacksburg.

William C. "Jack" Davis and Sue H. Bell talk about the Wharton letters (Virginia Tech)

The couple’s correspondence will be cataloged by and preserved by Virginia Tech's  Special Collections and University Archives. Some of the letters will be digitized and be made available to researchers. (The Davis and Bell book includes transcriptions of much of the correspondence).

The materials also contribute to the African American history of the region, detailing the lives and experiences of enslaved individuals associated with the Wharton family, said the school.

“Unlike official records or polished memoirs, these letters were never meant for public eyes,” Bell told Virginia Tech. “The people who wrote them were simply corresponding with loved ones, sharing their thoughts, fears and daily struggles with raw honesty. Reading them 160 years later, I don’t just see history, I meet real people. And what is most striking is how much they resemble us today.”

'The best of human nature': This Georgia woman cared for a Yankee POW at Andersonville while his friends tended to her brother at a Northern prison. How did this come to be? There is no single answer (and there's a Henry Wirz angle)

Living history at Andersonville (NPS) and Peter Kiene (Courtesy Mark Warren Collection)

Mary Rawson stepped into the witness stand at the Old Capitol Prison in Washington, D.C., near the completion of Capt. Henry Wirz’s trial on charges of murder and conspiracy.

By this point, a parade of witnesses had pilloried the stockade commander at Andersonville prison. They said he personally killed men, was cruel and withheld food. A book published after the sensational case pulled no punches, labeling him “The Demon of Andersonville.”

But the Confederate officer had his advocates: They argued Wirz did the best he could with meager supplies, showed acts of mercy and had no control over certain aspects of the notorious operation in central Georgia.

Rawson’s testimony in early October 1865 was meant to buttress the defense claim their client was a human – not a monster.

The woman from Plains – hometown of Jimmy Carter -- told the military tribunal that beginning in early 1865 she would take the train 30 miles to the prison to bring food to  -- of all things -- a Union prisoner, Peter Kiene of the 16^th Iowa Volunteer Regiment. With Mary’s help, Peter was able to get letters to his family

How did that come to be? Rawson encountered Wirz at the camp depot and asked whether she could care for a sick prisoner, according to her testimony. Another source provides a description of what could have led her there.

A New YorkTimes article cited Rawson’s testimony that “Capt. Wirz had never refused or denied her any privileges that she had asked of him; he was always agreeable and willing that she should bring anything to the prison; she never heard of Capt. Wirz treating any lady in an unkind way.”

Andersonville National Historic Site recently made a Facebook post about Rawson and Kiene timed to Women’s History Month in March and the 160^th anniversary of the prison’s existence and Rawson’s visits.

There was a fascinating twist here: Mary’s brother, Pvt. Joseph Rawson of the 51^st Georgia Infantry, was a Federal prisoner in Rock Island, Ill., after having been captured in Deep Bottom, Va. “Thoughts of Joseph suffering in an enemy prison led Mary to want to comfort a prisoner at nearby Andersonville,” says the social media post.

Park officials initially told the Picket they do not know why Mary Rawson chose to care for Kiene, who was just a teenager when he enlisted. He was reportedly captured in summer 1864 during fighting around Atlanta. 

After searching a bit more online and coming across a February 1882 edition of the Americus (Sumter County, Ga.) Reporter newspaper, I made an interesting discovery.

A brief entry indicates a Mr. and Mrs. Peter Kiene had traveled from Iowa, “that region of frost and snow,” solely to visit Mary Rawson, who lived in Magnolia Springs outside Americus.

"It seems that Mr. Kiene was a prisoner at Andersonville during the war, and that Mrs. Rawson had a brother who was imprisoned in Rock Island. This brother (Joseph), finding out from friends of Kiene's that Kiene was in Andersonville, wrote to his sister to provide for him particularly, as by so doing Kiene's friends would make his lot easier.

"Mrs. Rawson did so, and made Mr. Kiene as comfortable as possible, his friends reciprocating the favor by take care of her brother until the war was over and both released," it says. Kiene and his family lived in Dubuque, Iowa, about 50 miles from the prison camp.

There's yet another version from a 1964 article entitled "How a 15-Year-Old Dubuquer Survived Andersonville," in the Telegraph Herald newspaper.

It states the boy's father, Peter Kiene Jr., intervened to help Joseph Rawson after Mary Rawson learned Kiene was from Dubuque and then reached out. The father arranged for that assistance, says the article.

From Mary Rawson's testimony it is difficult to tell whether she had learned of Kiene's name beforehand.

Regardless of the circumstances, the episode is remarkable.

“For a prisoner of war, survival depends on emotional resilience as well as physical sustenance,” said the site’s Facebook post. “Mary Rawson’s kindness may have been the difference between hope and despair, helping both soldiers survive the hardships of imprisonment and return home to their families.”

Freed Union soldier returned to Georgia years later

Ranger Sherri Barnhard said Wirz allowed Mary Rawson – who came about every two weeks -- and Kiene to dine outside the prison walls. The commandant did not allow women inside the walls and was known at times to protect the vulnerable. Wirz testified he allowed captive drummer boys to be kept outside the stockade.

Joseph's compiled military service records indicate he was captured in December 1863, near Knoxville, Tenn., said Barnhard.

“The last record I have is the record showing ‘name appears as signature to an Oath of Allegiance to the United States, subscribed and sworn to at Rock Island barracks, ILL., June 20, 1865,” she said.

Photographer unknown, "[Peter Kiene seated at his desk]," Loras College Digital Collections, accessed March 18, 2025, https://digitalcollections.loras.edu/items/show/5235

By that time, both soldiers were beginning a new life after captivity.

“Kiene returned to his family in Dubuque and joined with his father in the iron business,” says an article about Iowa Civil War volunteers published in Military Images magazine. “Kiene went on to become successful in real estate and insurance, and active as a philanthropist and in the Grand Army of the Republic. He suffered a paralytic stroke in 1912 and succumbed to its effects at age 66. His wife, Caroline, and two children survived him.”

(See Iowa Civil War Images on Facebook here)

Sadly, the park has not yet learned anything much about the lives of Joseph and Mary Rawson after the war, but Barnhard said she is continuing research.

An 1870 U.S. Census entry lists a Mary Rawson, the mother, as keeping house. The younger Mary is described as being 40 years old, while Joseph, at age 35 or 36, was a farmer.

Graves of Joseph and Mary Johnson (Courtesy Brenda Darbyshire, Findagrave)

Joseph and Mary are buried near their parents at Lebanon Cemetery just outside Plains. Their headstones do not indicate when they were born and died. Barnhard said Mary is not believed to have married.

Interestingly, the cemetery is the resting place for James and Lillian Carter, Jimmy Carter’s parents.

Teri A. Surber, park guide at Andersonville, told the Picket why she believes the story of the Rawsons and Kienes resonates with people

“It shows the best of human nature shining against the darkness of one of the worst places in history, and that even though both families were on opposing sides, they could set that aside and help one another. Mary looked at Peter Kiene and saw her brother. She saw that they were not very different from one another after all. The story is full of hope. Hope that people will do what is right. Both families had to trust that a stranger, far away, was fulfilling their part of the bargain and taking care of the one they loved. There had to be trust, and in the end, the story has a happy ending. There's so much bad news today. Sometimes people need a happy ending.”

Commandant was a truly polarizing figure

Henry Wirz reclines (left) during his 1865 trial in Washington, D.C.

At some point between Wirz’s arrest and trial, his lawyers called upon Mary Rawson to speak on his behalf.

Rawson recalled seeing the captain occasionally during her visits to Kiene.

“I was there in the month of March 1865. I had on a brown dress. The captain always recognized me and asked me if I was going to see my prisoner. I would say ‘Yes,’ and I would carry another basket up and leave it. He never refused me.”

"I used to tie up a bushel basket and leave it, and my prisoner said that that would last him two weeks,” Rawson testified.

The park has told the story before and I asked Barnhard about this year’s timing with Women’s History Month. She said Mary Rawson’s story goes toward that, but there were larger results of the Civil War, including women largely filling the ranks of teachers and nurses. The park is holding a living history event this Saturday (March 29) and among the topics is the Woman’s Relief Corps, a charitable auxiliary to the Grand Army of the Republic.

But back to Wirz ...

In the end, the testimony of those defending him could not save him. The Swiss-born soldier was convicted of both charges and executed in the prison yard on Nov. 10, 1865. (At left, Old Capitol Prison, Library of Congress)

A National Park Service page calls him a complicated figure. “Wirz was unable to control the bureaucracy that plagued the Confederate military prison system, so he controlled the prisoners in the only way he could – through intimidation and punishment.”

Barnhard said Wirz demonstrated both kindness and cruelty. She wonders whether medication he took for a severe arm injury led to a “shift in moods.”

“The more I read about him, the more confused I become about him.”

The ironclad USS Montauk sank the Rattlesnake at Fort McAllister. After delays, a 3D model of the Federal monitor is being produced for display at Georgia park

Early model of Montauk; section of blueprints (SCAD) and Professor Johnson describing its operations (Picket photo)

Jason Carter, site manager at Fort McAllister State Park in Richmond Hill, Ga., believes a model of the ironclad USS Montauk -- which prowled the waters and bombarded Confederate earthworks -- will be a cool educational tool at its visitor center.

Carter would like to see it positioned next to an old model of the CSS Nashville (Rattlesnake), a commerce raider the Montauk blew out of the water in February 1863.

Greg Johnson says completing and printing a precise 3D model of the Montauk -- one of 10 Passaic-class monitors -- will be a boon for graduate student Wilson Han, who is in his gaming class at the nearby Savannah College of Art and Design.

“A legacy piece,” Johnson says of the effort.

And Han (left), a native of China, is likewise excited by the project, which involves modern technology and a bit of old-fashioned model-making.

“I am always interested in history,” he says.

Now, five years after Johnson visited the park and met former interpretive ranger Mike Ellis, the dream of having a Montauk model is finally close to reality. Han has been working on the model design for the past couple months, using Autodesk Maya software. Han said April 1 the modeling is going well but slowly because of a busy college quarter.

The original goal of the project was to create compelling interpretive panels, a 3D ship model and film that explained the role of USS Montauk and other innovative Federal monitors in the siege of Confederate outposts on the Atlantic Ocean, specifically Fort McAllister.

The plan turned out to be too ambitious, given SCAD graduations and the complexity of work, which ran up against limited class time. Still, a half dozen wall panels and a schematic of the Montauk were created by SCAD students and installed in late 2022.

Work on a model stalled after that, but when I reached back out to Johnson, interactive design and game development professor at SCAD, back in December, he asked for contact information for park leadership (Ellis had left by then) and I connected him with Carter.

Jason Carter measures CSS Nashville exhibit to aid in model for Montauk (Picket photo)

Carter met with Johnson and Han at the park on Feb. 1 to discuss the 3D model, and I tagged along. The professor explained a previous student had made a 3D model for in-game simulation (for the film) but that aspect never came to fruition. Hence, the current effort to convert that to a printable 3D model.

Johnson stressed the work would be tedious, that Han would have to check all specifications and ensure the model was ready for printing.

“I have to be certain to do the job right,” Han told the Picket.

Accuracy is paramount, says Johnson, who located the likely paint scheme for the ironclad

“It will be down to the bolt,” he says of the reproduction.

The Nashville was trapped near this bend in the Ogeechee River (Picket photo)

Key to the whole effort – for the wall display and the model – is something Ellis found by chance several years ago.

Finding blueprints was a stroke of fortune

Ellis, now a guide and trainer for Old Towne Trolley Tours in Savannah, recalls being in a storage area at Fort McAllister in 2017. There were piles of documents and papers everywhere.

“As rangers come and go, things get lost to time,” he says.

Ellis went through some of them and found a matted long tube. Inside: A precious copy of the USS Montauk’s blueprints, manufactured in dozens of sheets.

One of numerous photos of blueprints shows turret (Courtesy Greg Johnson)

“I knew immediately what is was,” says Carter. Now the staff could upgrade the monitor exhibit, putting a facsimile of the blueprints on one wall.

Everything clicked during Johnson’s visit to the site. “Me and Greg spent a better part of the day taking photos of (the blueprints) in detail.”

They used a custom-built rig to slide dozens of sheets under a camera to obtain high resolution.

“These images were then processed, enhanced and stitched together using photo editing tools to make the panels,” Johnson says. The image could then be used for the wall, model or the film.

Showdown on the Ogeechee was one-sided

USS Montauk receives fire from Fort McAllister as it hammers the Nashville

Andy Hall, A Civil War naval expert and author, told the Picket the Passaic monitors were the first large-class of monitors and many of them served together, such as the campaign against the earthen Fort McAllister in 1863 and 1864.

The Union navy, as it continued its chokehold on Southern ports and readied for offensive operations, sent the Montauk and sisters Passaic, Patapsco and Nahant, supported by gunboats Seneca, Dawn and Wissahickon to bombard and capture Fort McAllister in January 1863.

The skipper of the Montauk was John Worden (left), famous for being the USS Monitor’s captain when it clashed with the CSS Virginia in 1862.

Capable Confederate gunners at Fort McAllister hit the ironclad 13 times in its first action, but caused little damage. A second attack on Feb. 1, 1863, found the vessel, according to histories, pounded by 48 shells. The Montauk's sister ships also took part in the action.

Its big day came on February 28. The sidewheeler Nashville, which was bottled up and hiding under the guns of Fort McAllister for protection, tried to get away from the Federal ironclads via Seven-Mile Bend on the Ogeechee River, but apparently ran aground.

The 215-foot blockade runner commanded by Lt. Thomas Harrison Baker became a sitting duck because of its lack of maneuverability and deep draft in a tight area, and the Montauk pounced.

“All the monitors were designed for littoral or riverine operations, and so drew as little water as possible,” says Hall. “Nashville was built as an ocean-going steamship, so had a fuller, deeper hull.” That proved to be a disadvantage at McAllister.

Montauk’s XV- and 11-inch Dahlgrens were able to destroy the former commerce raider.

Worden was pleased with his destruction of ‘this troublesome pest’” wrote John V. Quarstein, director emeritus of the USS Monitor Center in a blog.

“However, Montauk suffered a huge jolt when it struck a Confederate torpedo en route down the Ogeechee River. Worden’s quick thinking saved his ironclad.” (Quarstein’s new biography of Worden will be published April 15).

The Union naval attacks on Fort McAllister itself were less successful. The low-profile earthen fort could withstand the shelling and repairs could be readily made.

While the Montauk was scrapped in the early 1900s, the park grounds and museum have a large number of CSS Nashville artifacts.

USS Montauk (left) and USS Lehigh in Philadelphia in 1902 (Wikipedia)

And in this corner, weighing in at . . .

On the afternoon of my visit, Carter, Johnson and Han -- who is majoring in game development and interactive design -- met in a conference room and a museum gallery that houses the wall panels, artifacts and the CSS Nashville model.

Carter used a tape measure to get the dimensions of the Nashville display case. That was to help ensure the Montauk 3D model would be built in the proper scale (1/78).

Wilson Han and Professor Johnson are working from this paint scheme (Courtesy Steven Lund)

“This makes the USS Montauk model 30 11/16th inches or 780mm in length,” Johnson wrote in a later email. The ironclad, he says was slightly asymmetrical

Carter provided these vital statistics for the two warships:

Montauk, 200 feet long, beam 46 feet, draft 10 feet

Nashville, 215 feet long, beam 34 feet, draft 20 feet

While the monitors were mass-produced, they did undergo changes during the service, and SCAD students wanted to be sure the appearance of the Montauk matched the time it prowled off Fort McAllister.

SCAD is working from a Montauk paint scheme described in the work “Modeling Civil War Ironclad Ships” by Steven Lund and William Hathaway. 

The deck is lead gray, the turret and pilot house black with a narrow white ring, and the smokestack black with the upper one third in dark green.

To distinguish them, all 10 Passaic ironclads had some color variations.

Sources for such information on paint schemes are difficult to find, says model maker and writer Devin J. Poore.

“Black is very popular, (while) gray and white were used in really hot areas.”

3D printing is not for the faint of heart

Converting an item intended for a game to a 3D printable object requires numerous revisions.

The former are designed with much higher resolution so they can be used in interactive entertainment. Former SCAD student Collin Drilling created the original image of the USS Montauk. It had about 10,000 “holes;” he worked from May and Zbrush software.

Han’s task was to bring down the resolution and fine tune the details. Johnson had worked on the turret, and his student used that as a guide.

A version of the Montauk model before Han's work to modify it for printing (Courtesy SCAD)

Preparing the model for 3D printing is one thing, but ending up with a worthy final product is another. Lots of things can go wrong in printing – and often do, the SCAD team says. Plastic can shrink during the process, the printer footing may be off and a misfeed can occur.

The printer is like a dot matrix and the artist must determine how many pieces he should make for the ironclad model and figure in joints for assembly. While Han wants to keep it to perhaps one to three pieces, some items require more, says Johnson.

Poore (photo below) told the Picket the quality of any model, handmade or 3D designed and printed, depends on the skill of the modeler.

“3D models come off the printer needing sanding, priming, assembly, etc. Depending on how much work you put into the process depends on the result. There are certain benefits that 3D printing can have over hand making, such as pretty much guaranteed right angles and symmetry, but then again you have to worry about how to actually print a piece so that it comes out cleanly, and so that it won't warp in the future,” he says.

This project is a mix of newer and old technology. While the printing will produce the frame of the ship, finer pieces such as chains and rigging will need to come for a model kit or the like.

And the painting is definitely old school; Johnson said he expects to assist with that.

Passaics were primo, but had limitations

For Fort McAllister, the Montauk model will help further its education of visitors on the fort and various Federal attempts to subdue it.

Lund said the innovation and quality of the Passaic class made for the best monitors.

“Although two of the 10 produced were lost, some of them soldiered on into the 20^th century. At least two were recommissioned to serve as harbor defense vessels in the Spanish-American War. One of them, the USS Camanche, guarded the San Francisco Bay during that conflict. She was sold for scrap in 1908 and her hull functioned as a coal barge as late as WW II.”

A model of the U.S.S. Carondelt being made for 3D printing (Courtesy Devin J. Poore)

Poore says the Passaic monitors were a stepping stone in warship development but were underutilized and not appropriate for most situations they encountered..

“For the work needed on the Atlantic coast, i.e. reducing forts, they weren't the best candidates. They were built to fight Confederate ironclads, and simply didn't see much action in that regard, due to the limited number of Confederate opponents.”

Poore is in the process of making his first full-blown printed ironclad, the city-class U.S.S. Carondelet. The vessel had notable service in the Western Theater.

Devin J. Poore's model of the USS Weehawken (Courtesy of the creator)