Of hapless blockade runners and the 'Stone Fleet' that failed to stop them: Beach restoration project near Charleston will safeguard ill-fated historic shipwrecks

Recent beach work (City of Isle of Palms), wreck of Constance (SCIAA) and sinking of "Stone Fleet" (Courtesy MIT Museum)

The latest effort to fight beach erosion and restore dunes along a barrier island near Charleston, S.C., will work around the wrecks of three Confederate blockade runners and whaling ships the Union navy sank in an effort to prevent the merchant vessels from reaching the city.

The city of Isle of Palms and state archaeological and preservation offices are developing buffer zones around the sites in preparation for dredging this year, officials said. The goal is for dredgers to pick up sand a couple miles off the coast and bring it ashore for beach nourishment.

“This project will protect our history and our shoreline for the 4,000+ residents that call our Island home and the 20,000+ visitors that enjoy our beach every day in the summer,” the city said in a recent social media post.

Scores of blockade runners tried to reach Charleston during the Civil War, but many ran aground off the Isle of Palms and nearby Sullivan’s Island. Shoals and shallow water, along with fire from Federal ships and batteries, were a constant danger.

The three blockade runners in the project area – the Georgiana, Mary Bowers and the Constance – are near the remains of what were called “Stone Fleets.”

In late 1861 and early 1862, 29 whaling and merchant vessels brought from the Northeast were deposited in the channels leading into Charleston. The idea was to hinder blockade runners who ran the extra risk of slamming into ship timbers, sand bars or stones carried in the hulls. Ships often carried stones to give them stability, improved handling and a lower center of gravity.

SCIAA graphic shows blockade runners and "Stone Fleet" areas below, above city

“The Stone Fleet’s efficacy was almost immediately diminished by the force of the natural scouring of tides as the redirected tidal waters of the harbor made new channels,” according to the South Carolina Institute of Archaeology and Anthropology (SCIAA). Most of the wrecks were dispersed by currents and shifting sand.

South Carolina underwater archaeologist Jim Spirek said while the $32 million project will encompass the three blockade runners, “the location of the current proposed borrow area is our attempt to deflect encroachment on the nearby Stone Fleet vessels.”

While the strategy was ultimately ineffective, Stone Fleet wrecks remain important cultural sites today, the city said. Ballast mounds are still visible by side-scan survey.

Beach nourishment areas in blue (City of Isle of Palms)

Dredging is anticipated to begin late spring or early summer. Sand will be placed along three placement areas, which include homes, beach access areas and the site of a playground.

The Picket has reached out to city officials for comment but has not heard back.

Wrecks 'disappeared' at nearby island

Over the years, Spirek and his colleagues have surveyed and/or dived on many blockade runner and “Stone Fleet” wrecks.

While the whereabouts of many are known, the state wanted to know more about four that are no longer visible off Sullivan’s Island. Spirek’s office last years used drones to conduct a survey of the “forgotten” wreck sites.

The remains of those vessels are are now buried deep below the beach and adjacent woodlot.

'Stone Fleet" ballast mound captured by sonagram (City of Isle of Palms)

The planned beach nourishment at the Isle of Palms has prompted Spirek to advise the State Historic Preservation Office on how to safeguard the sites.

In a case like this, “typically we propose a buffer zone around the sites to protect them from dredging and other ancillary activities, i.e., anchoring, cables,” the archaeologist said in an email to the Picket.

Bad luck be a baby for three runners

Spirek has written numerous articles about the history of these vessels and the bad luck they encountered.

That history begins with the Union blockade strategy

As the Union’s nautical noose tightened around Charleston, blockade runners daring to bring vital goods to the Confederacy typically took the shortest route into the harbor, sailing close to Fort Moultrie on the southwestern tip of Sullivan’s Island. They typically sailed through Maffitt’s (or Beach) Channel.

Many did not make it, or get back to sea safely.

The Georgiana, Mary Bowers and the Constance were among the victims. Interestingly, they lie together because two ran into the wrecks of the other, the state says. We’ll explain

Georgiana: The Scottish-built ship may have been intended for military service or privateering. After picking up goods in the Bahamas, it sailed to Charleston, arriving on March 18, 1863. Federal gunner’s spotted the Georgiana in Maffitt’s Channel and crippled it. The crew abandoned the ship, according to an American Battlefield Protection Program report by Spirek. Union ships pulverized the ship and set it afire. Over the following days, Union crews salvaged various items from the wreck including Enfield rifles, bayonets, battle axes, sabers and other sundry goods.

Captains of "Stone Fleet" vessels that left New Bedford, Mass. (New Bedford Free Public Library)

Mary Bowers: This runner that stopped in Bermuda tried to enter Charleston Harbor on Aug. 31, 1864, but it struck Georgiana. It quickly sank. “Union sailors found a 16-year old boy aboard who told them he knew of no cargo other than coal, and that the steamer was to leave laden with cotton bound for Halifax, Canada.”

Constance: The side-wheeler sailed from Nova Scotia, struck the Mary Bowers on Oct. 6, 1864, and quickly sank. One sailor drowned. The next morning, USS Wamsutta reported a strange wreck lying near the wrecks of Georgiana and Mary Bowers. Casting anchor, the blockader investigated the wrecked vessel, which had two smokestacks and masts, sidewheels, lying in three fathoms of water.

State officials believe the three wrecks were near the area of the "Second Stone Fleet.”

Examples of "First Stone Fleet" ballast left on ocean floor (SCIAA)

“While the Second Stone Fleet effectiveness as a deterrent to using the Maffitt’s/Beach Channel to enter Charleston Harbor may have been marginal, the presence of the sunken vessels along with the floating vessels, made any voyage through the blockade at Charleston Harbor potentially disastrous,” a report asserts.

All three wrecks were located in the late 1960s and 1970. Numerous items were removed in licensed, private salvage operations. Sports divers later recovered artifacts from the Mary Bowers and Georgiana.

Postscript: Melville's ode to the doomed ships

Right before I published this post, I came across a December 1861 poem about the doomed “Stone Fleet” vessels by acclaimed author Herman Melville. Some of the old ships were sent to the Savannah River in Georgia to blockade enemy ships.

Melville paid tribute to them in “An Old Sailor’s Lament.”

  I have a feeling for those ships,
    Each worn and ancient one,
    With great bluff bows, and broad in the beam:
    Ay, it was unkindly done.
        But so they serve the Obsolete--
        Even so, Stone Fleet!

    You'll say I'm doting; do you think
    I scudded round the Horn in one--
    The Tenedos, a glorious
    Good old craft as ever run--
        Sunk (how all unmeet!)
        With the Old Stone Fleet.

    An India ship of fame was she,
    Spices and shawls and fans she bore;
    A whaler when the wrinkles came--
    Turned off! till, spent and poor,
        Her bones were sold (escheat)!
        Ah! Stone Fleet.

    Four were erst patrician keels
    (Names attest what families be),
    The Kensington, and Richmond too,
    Leonidas, and Lee:
        But now they have their seat
        With the Old Stone Fleet.

    To scuttle them--a pirate deed--
    Sack them, and dismast;
    They sunk so slow, they died so hard,
    But gurgling dropped at last.
        Their ghosts in gales repeat
        Woe's us, Stone Fleet!

    And all for naught. The waters pass--
    Currents will have their way;
    Nature is nobody's ally; 'tis well;
    The harbor is bettered--will stay.
        A failure, and complete,
        Was your Old Stone Fleet.

Steamboat Sultana: Stories of heroic rescues lie just beneath the surface in NE Arkansas. The wreckage itself is a good bit deeper, likely under a soybean field

Rick DeSpain's drawing of John Fogleman taking raft to rescue ( www.DeSpainPrints.com)

For more than 200 years, a John Fogleman has lived and worked in a small patch of the Arkansas Delta across from Memphis, Tenn.

One had a farm in Crittenden County when a fire lit the sky a couple miles away on April 27, 1865. The overloaded steamboat Sultana, carrying hundreds of Union soldiers heading home at the end of the Civil War, exploded and caught firing, spilling passengers into the frigid Mississippi River. Many of the soldiers had recently been released from Confederate prisons, including Andersonville in Georgia and Cahaba in Alabama.

According to newspaper accounts and family lore, Fogleman lashed two or three logs together, poled his way through the current and toward survivors. He plucked dozens of people to safety. It’s possible his sons Leroy and Gustavus assisted.

By chance, or perhaps fate, his great-great-grandson, retired Circuit Judge John Fogleman, is currently spearheading the effort to build a permanent museum about the largest U.S. maritime disaster. Officials hope to open the venue in Marion later this year. (A smaller museum operates a few blocks away.)

On a recent visit to Marion, I asked the judge, president of the Sultana Historical Preservation Society, to show me the soybean field where the wreckage of the vessel reportedly is covered. (Picket video, above, of Fogleman discussing site)

We had no luck because Fogleman was unable to contact the property owner in time. Still, we drove to a spot a mile or so away, as close as we could get. The area is fenced. (Note: this is private property and the presumed location is kept guarded.)

Fogleman also took me close to where his ancestors lived and described the rescue effort, which will be a significant part of the museum’s exhibits.

Another great-great grandfather, Franklin Hardin Barton, and several neighbors came to the aid of Yankee troops, who were the enemy just weeks before.

The Memphis Daily Argus and other newspapers provided vivid accounts from survivors and rescuers, some of whom flocked from Memphis.

“Messrs. John Fogleman, Thomas J. Lumbertson, George Malone and John Berry, citizens of Mound City, Arkansas, are entitled to the eternal gratitude of every right-thinking mind,” reported the Daily Argus.

Franklin Barton and LeRoy and Gustavus Fogleman (Courtesy John Fogleman)

“When they saw the burning, floating mass, and heard the cries of the struggling thousands, they made haste to construct rude rafts of logs and put into the stream. With these, they succeeded in saving the lives of nearly a hundred persons. They were unceasing and labored faithfully and courageously as long as there was any possibility of relieving a suffering fellow mortal. Mr. Fogleman's residence was converted into a temporary hospital for the sufferers, and every possible care and attention were bestowed on them by Mr. Fogleman and his family. The number who had been brought in -- rescued from the river -- at 12 o'clock yesterday were 110 enlisted men, ten officers, four ladies and fifteen citizens."

Another account was sent to the Chicago Tribune (right, click to enlarge).

Norman Shaw, a founder of the Sultana Association of Descendants and Friends, recalled visiting the Sultana site in 2015. Shaw has researched rescues involving the men named by the Daily Argus. Sources include Sultana expert and author's Gene Salecker's list of testimonials and a riveting account of the disaster by Union soldier Chester Berry.

"I arrive at a total of 219 rescued through the efforts of men and women from the small community of Mound City,” Shaw wrote in article for association members.

While visitors to the small current museum ask about the wreck and why it has not been raised, it’s important to note the Mississippi has shifted course often over the years. Small tributaries and lakes go away or are formed, and small islands do the same. So no one is 100 percent sure where the remnants of the Sultana lie.

About 1,200 people died in the disaster. The vessel’s boilers are considered to be the main cause of the catastrophe. There are also claims of greed and sabotage, but that's another story.

Jerry Potter, a Memphis attorney and noted expert and author on the Sultana, searched for the wreckage in the early 1980s near a small community of Mound City. He used old maps and eyewitness accounts. (Salvage efforts years before removed portions of the Sultana,)

Potter told the Picket he met with the son of the man who owned the land at the time. Potter showed him a map where he thought the wreckage was located.

“He stated that about 100 yards north of my location he had found pieces of metal. (He) and I searched together, and over the years, we uncovered many pieces of metal which were identified as coming from a 19^th century steamboat.

Author Clive Cussler brought the first magnetometer to the site and got readings on buried metal.

“We had two other magnetometers and got readings of buried metal. The ‘History Detectives’ show on the History Channel brought experts to locate the wreckage, who agreed with my opinion about the location of the wreckage,” said Potter.

“According to eyewitness accounts, the wreckage came to rest at the head of Chicken Island. At that time, Chicken Island was actually an island, with the main channel of the river flowing on the east side and (the) Mound City chute on the west side. The river filled in around the wreckage and closed off the north end of the Mound City chute.”

Potter said they placed steamboat metal parts in a building. The landowner lost possession of the property and when the author approached the new owner he was unable to find the parts, he said. “The owner thought they might have buried the parts while clearing the property before his purchase.”

The wreckage of the side-wheeler is about a mile from the main channel and is too deep to uncover, the author of “The Sultana Tragedy: America’s Greatest Maritime Disaster” added.

“I believe that the hull's remains would probably be in good condition since they are below the water table ...  I am 90% sure that we located the site of the Sultana. There are no reports of any other steamboat wrecks in the area, and the 1876 map (highlighted above) marks the location. The only way I would be a 100% sure would be to uncover the wreckage, but the costs of such an undertaking would be in the millions.”

Fogleman and I drove by farms and a few homes on the flat land. One stop was the sight of Native American mounds at Mound City (Picket photo, right).

The judge has spoken publicly about the January and February 1863 Federal burnings of Mound City and nearby Hopefield in response to Confederate guerrilla activities and the trial of a man accused of instigating the hanging of an abolitionist.

“This punitive expedition relates to Union efforts to secure Memphis, Tennessee, as a supply and hospital base capable of supporting ongoing operations against Vicksburg, Mississippi,” says the Encyclopedia of Arkansas. “It stands as an early example of the shift toward hard war tactics that would increase throughout the remainder of the Civil War.”

So, given the tension between Union forces and civilians in Memphis and Crittenden County, it may seem surprising the latter joined efforts to save Sultana’s victims.

Instinct must have kicked in.

"These men were leading citizens, interconnected by family and business, and most likely close friends," said Shaw. "Each one had supported the Southern cause, but all reacted immediately to save as many lives as possible after the Sultana exploded."

Drummer boy Tommie Wood died of pneumonia. Matthew Nunnally fell at Gettysburg. My trips to a Georgia county and 2 photos put their stories together

Pvt. Thomas G. Wood (left, courtesy David W. Vaughan Collection) and Matthew and Josiah Nunnally (Findagrave)

I had an “aha moment” this week that came after two road trips, a phone call, email exchanges and online research into two young Georgians who died during the Civil War.

Months after I traveled through Walton County on two occasions, I was able to connect young drummer Pvt. Thomas “Tommie” Gaston Wood and Capt. Matthew T. Nunnally. 

Photographs of the two clinched the deal by showing they were in the same unit. The gray frock coats are single-breasted, bear seven buttons, a black collar and distinctive black striping, or scallops, on the sleeves. I realized both were members of the Walton Infantry, better known as Company H, 11^th Georgia Infantry.

The portrait of Wood is very well-known and haunting: Tommie is 17 years old, but looks even younger. The orphan’s expression is innocent. “You can see the sweat around the hat and sideburns,” said David Wynn Vaughan, who collects Civil War portraits. Tommie’s is one of his favorites.

I knew nothing about either soldier when I trekked through Walton County in September and October. I live in adjoining Gwinnett County and I thought it would be interesting to check out Civil War markers and sites in Monroe, Jersey and Social Circle, where young Tommie lived.

The Federal army caused mayhem in Social Circle twice in 1864. Kenner Garrard’s cavalry burned a depot and warehouses in July and the 20^th Corps destroyed much of the railroad in November during the March to the Sea

The town’s welcome center has a section on its Civil War ties, and affixed to one wall is a July 2007 article in The Atlanta Journal-Constitution (Picket photo, below). My former colleague Jim Auchmutey did an excellent job describing Vaughan’s collection of Georgia soldiers, including Tommie Wood.

A few days later, I called Vaughan about the photo -- a 1/9 plate tintype taken by an unknown photographer -- and asked what drew him to purchase it more than 20 years ago. He described Tommie’s expression and lack of tinting on his face, often applied by photographers. Regarding the uniform, “his buttons have been gilded.”

Took a while for me to put 2 and 2 together

As is (way too) often the case, I did not immediately write a post about Tommie, who sadly died from pneumonia a few months after his portrait was taken. As I write this post, I have several good stories in the hopper, but have not found time to finalize reporting or get around to writing them. The procrastination nags at me.

But back to our story ...

During an October trip to Athens, a month after I spoke with Vaughan, I stopped by Monroe’s post office. As I drove off, I spied a monument at Rest Haven Cemetery.

Matthew Talbot Nunnally stands at attention, half of his hat brim lost to time. His sword is broken. I read that he was killed, age 24, at Gettysburg on July 2, 1863.

Several tablets, commissioned by one of the young officer’s sisters, describe his life and service. I posted a few a photographs on the Civil War Picket’s Facebook page and moved on.

On neither road trip did I remember references to Wood and Young serving in the 11^th Georgia. I was more interested in Tommie’s portrait and Nunnally’s statue.

Two photos show members of 11th Georgia

After a recent email to Vaughan on another matter, I decided to get back to the Wood post.

Auchmutey’s article mentioned Keith Bohannon, a professor of history at the University of West Georgia. The author is an expert on Georgia troops, the Army of Tennessee and Reconstruction and has an interest in portraits.

Pvt. Thomas Gaston Wood (Courtesy David W. Vaughan Collection)

Bohannon has assisted Vaughan with research, including when the latter purchased the Wood portrait for thousands of dollars from an individual in 2004.

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.

Bohannon provided information on the young musician that was included in a spring 2015 Georgia Backroads article about the compelling portrait of Tommie.

A review of my notes and Vaughan’s emails on the portrait led me to reach out to Bohannon this week. The professor replied as a teen he first saw the plate at an antique mall in metro Atlanta.

“I seem to remember that the seller said that it was a photograph of a drummer from Walton County, but I am not sure. That was a long time ago. I seem to remember that he wanted somewhere between 70-100 dollars for the image, which was far more than I could afford.

“I do remember noticing the initials on the underside of the bill of his kepi. The coat he is wearing matching those of two other uniformed members of the ‘Walton Infantry,’ Co. H, 11^th Ga.”

Wood’s initials are painted on the underside of the brim in the image.

Bohannon’s reference to two other uniformed members of the regiment sent me scurrying to the internet.

Estate record mentions Tommie Wood as serving under Capt. Matthew Nunnally of Monroe.

And there was a picture of Capt. Nunnally, standing next to his brother Sgt. Josiah Nunnally. You can clearly see the same black sleeve stripes on Josiah’s frock coat as the ones on Tommie’s uniform. 

Josiah lost a leg after Second Manassas. The farmer died back home in 1908 at age 73.

So there it is: The connection between Nunnally and Wood. The former commanded the latter. It may be of no real interest to anyone but me.

Still, you should read the following section, which focuses on the brief life of Tommie Wood.

Tommie drummed but for a short time

Bohannon said Thomas G. (Tommie) Wood appears on the 1850 Walton County census as a student in the home of his parents, Baptist minister Thomas G. Wood and Emily J. Wood. His father died in 1852 and his mother died in 1858. (Image below)

The boy appears on the 1860 census a boarder in the household of Social Circle schoolteacher J.M. Smith. (Tommie’s brother William lived until 1924).

Tommie enlisted in early July 1861 and the 11^th Georgia Infantry traveled north to serve in the Army of Northern Virginia. After missing the battle at Manassas, the regiment went into quarters at Center Hill, where it spent most of the winter at the camp and lost men due to discharge as well as death resulting from illness, according to Wikipedia.

An ill Tommie landed in a Confederate hospital in Richmond. He died on Dec. 13, 1861, at age 17 or 18, without every being in combat. He is believed to be buried in Richmond’s Oakwood Cemetery.

During his research, Bohannon came across a January 1862 article in the Augusta Constitutionalist by Dr. William W. Crumly, a chaplain of Georgia military hospitals in Richmond.

Crumly wrote this poignant passage (left):

“In taking my morning round through one of the hospitals, I find in one of the wards a youth of more than ordinary beauty and intelligence. His name is Wood, the drummer boy, from Social Circle. Young Wood was the pet and idol of his regiment. And he is struggling with pneumonia, that terrible scourge of the camp and the hospital. When asked whether he was afraid to die, he calmly answered: ‘No. I joined the church when but eight years of age; my father and mother are both in heaven, and I would rather go and be with them there, than to stay and suffer here.’ He was beautiful in death – lovely as the fresh cut rosebud, dripping with the dew of morning. Taking his post in the centre of the long line of the dead at Oak Wood, no sound of his drum shall ever awake the sleepers there.”

Records on Fold3 and Ancestry.com indicate Tommie’s maternal grandfather, Gresham Herren, settled the teen’s estate. Online records indicate the estate was due $91.76 from the Confederate government.

Historian long displayed Wood's portrait

Civil War photo collector Lee Joyner of Madison, Ga., remembers seeing the Wood portrait at the home of a man, since deceased, who subsequently sold it to Vaughan.

Joyner noted the dark trim typical of early-war Georgia uniforms. I asked him what is special about the image.

“You don’t see many Confederate drummer boy images. And, secondly, it is an identified one. It is kind of a poignant image.”

Bohannon told the Picket he has always had a fascination with Georgia Confederate soldiers and units, including the Wood portrait (detail, right, courtesy David W. Vaughan Collection).

“I did have an enlarged black and white print of the image up for a long time in dorm rooms, apartments, etc., but now I have it stuck in some files. I've always found the photograph particularly poignant given the extremely youthful and delicate appearance of Wood. I also like the initials on the bill of his kepi and the uniform of the Walton Infantry which exhibits characteristics of many jackets worn in 1861 by Georgia Confederate soldiers.”

Joyner and Vaughan, who has about 300 images, are part of a small, but dedicated community of Civil War photo collectors. They realize they are caretakers of a piece of history.

“The image collecting world is not very big. Sometimes, another collector will tell you about them,” said Vaughan. ”Of course, we are competitors, though we are friends.”

National Civil War Naval Museum hopes to arrange and display armor from ironclad's fantail by the end of March. The complex piece -- damaged by an arson fire in 2020 -- was built to protect CSS Jackson's rudder, propellers

Fantail before arson fire, Brandon Gilland with armor, charred wood, explainer on design (Picket photos)

A fire set by Union cavalrymen in 1865 and a second lit by an arsonist in 2020 took away the dignity – and much of the wood – from a remarkable section of the Confederate ironclad CSS Jackson.

But the blazes could not erase the story of the fantail crafted for the vessel, whose remains are on display at the National Civil War Naval Museum in Columbus, Ga.

The arson fire dashed hopes of conserving the fantail, the precisely built curved rear deck that protected the vessel’s rudder and propellers. It sat for years, lying upside down, in a pole barn outside the museum. Officials had hoped to move the component inside and build a pie-shaped replica.

The arson changed all that.

Crew of the CSS Jackson (Muscogee) aboard vessel on Chattahoochee River (Wikipedia)

Museum officials moved to the idea of using the surviving armor and replacement wood for a recreation that would highlight the artifact’s complexity and contours. No dice. That option ultimately proved too costly and unfeasible.

“Each piece looked like it was almost cut to fit. There are all kinds of sizes and shapes,” museum director Brandon Gilland told the Picket. In other words, it would take big bucks and precise knowledge and skills to fashion new pieces.

Now there’s a new approach.

The fantail after it was removed from the Chattahoochee River in 1961 (NCWNM photo)

To mark its 25^th year in a large building situated on Victory Drive and near the Chattahoochee River -- where the Jackson was built -- the museum will shortly begin a less ambitious project to display the 30 or so pieces of fantail armor, said Gilland.

“That fantail has been nagging at me for a while,” he said.

Volunteers, using equipment to lift the 400-pound sections, will arrange them in a half-moon shape. Beneath the armor will be cedar or some other material.

The finished product will likely end up flat on the floor next to the Jackson’s stern, though Gilland would like for the fantail to be slightly elevated, if possible.

They can't use the original wood, because the 1865 and 2020 fires basically ruined them

The goal is to have the modest display ready for the March 21 RiverBlast, an annual event that includes cannon firings, living historians, food, family events and more.

Since the surviving armor was treated about five years ago, the sections have sat in rows along the Jackson. Bolts and other fasteners are in crates, awaiting new life. Charred wood lie on pallets, also near the stern

I held a bolt and a couple fasteners and asked Gilland whether they could be reused. Perhaps some of the bolts, he said. To demonstrate, he placed a bolt in a hole in one piece of iron armor (Picket photo, above).

That momentary connection seemingly brought the project to life.

Structure proved to be more complex than thought

CSS Jackson flag captured by 4th Division, U.S. Cavalry (The American Civil War Museum, Richmond, Va.)

Remains of the Jackson and the twin-screw wooden ship CSS Chattahoochee are the star exhibits of the museum. Both were lost in April 1865 at war’s end -- the Jackson set afire by Federal captors and the Chattahoochee scuttled by its own crew.

They were recovered from the Chattahoochee River in the early 1960s. Neither saw action.

The fantail was the half-moon shaped rear deck of the CSS Jackson, which was never fully operational. The section of armor and timber is a remarkable example of design and construction prowess. 

After the 2020 fire, the upside-down fantail was the first to receive conservation attention. Each beam was documented. Using a process called photogrammetry, the archaeologists took hundreds of images of each layer in order to better understand the structure. (Gilland says the section with green labels at right may be the least damaged from the 2020 fire; Picket photo)

Jeff Seymour, director of history and collections at the museum at the time of the arson blaze, wrote about the ironclad’s fantail:

“As each level emerged, we were able to see elements of this vessel that no one has seen since 1864. As each level surfaced, several questions about how the Jackson was constructed were answered, but many more questions developed. Simply, this structure is much more complex than we thought heading into this project."

Seymour called the fantail “a very unique piece of naval architecture” that’s believed to be the only Civil War example out of the water. Because the rear deck was curved, builders had to customize the length of the armor and timber. (Seymour now works at the Erie Maritime Museum in Pennsylvania.

When I saw the fantail in 2019, before the arson fire, the artifact and the Chattahoochee’s engine components were in the pole barn outside the museum, exposed to the elements and slowly deteriorating.

I marveled at the fantail, which was charred in places from the 1865 fire. But the wood was in place and you could see how it was fashioned from layers of longleaf pine and other material.

Remnants of the pole barn after the 2020 fire; the roof is no longer there  (Columbus Fire and EMS)

The June 2020 arson, which has not been solved, charred the fantail’s timbers to their core, also destroying the piece’s shape. The Chattahoochee’s wrought iron and cast iron engines, the iron plates from the Jackson’s armor and the iron plating to the fantail survived, though they were exposed to the thermal heat.

To this day, dozens of pieces of armor belonging to one side of the Jackson are in the fenced area, poking through weeds and burned wood. Why not move them inside and conserve them? There’s no money to do that currently, said Gilland.

Video shows how the fantail was put together

The naval museum has the benefit of post-fire conservation work done several years ago by Terra Mare Conservation to serve as a guide.

The company treated and tagged the armor, digitally mapped the fantail and produced a fascinating video showing how it was designed and put together. Visitors can stand near one of the Jackson’s propeller and watch the looped production

Gilland expects the work to cost about $2,000, compared to at least $25,000 for a full recreation. Museum officials several years ago cited a much higher figure to do a full-scale recreation.

Fund-raising for the fantail work was part of a larger effort, most of which has been completed, including a few new exhibits, said Gilland.

Robert Holcombe, a naval historian and former director of the museum, previously told me besides the CSS Georgia in Savannah, the fantail may have been the only piece of wood from a Confederate ironclad with iron plating still attached.

Homemade behemoth had an inglorious end

Museum visitors can gaze at the hull of the flat-bottom ironclad from a viewing platform and on the floor (Picket photo below).

 A section is missing, but you get a good views of the vessel’s enormity – it was about 222 long and 57 feet across. Above the CSS Jackson’s hull is ghosting framework intended to show how the warship appeared above the water line. The rudder is missing.

The Jackson (originally named the Muscogee) was designed to protect Columbus – a critically important industrial center for the Confederacy -- from Union navy marauders and blockaders. Construction on the Jackson began in early 1863. It was built entirely in Columbus.

The Jackson’s casemate had a 35-degree slope and featured nearly two feet of wood and two layers of plating, mostly manufactured at the Scofield and Markham mill in Atlanta.

The vessel, armed with six Brooke rifles (two of which rest outside the museum), was finally launched -- after earlier unsuccessful attempts -- on Dec. 22, 1864, to local fanfare. 

Fantail bolts and fasteners were cleaned and place in boxes (Picket photo)

The two engines and four boilers – manufactured in Columbus – were not operational when the city fell, and there’s a question about how well they would have performed, anyway. At best, the Jackson would have done about 5 knots.

The ship still needed armor and was unfinished when the Federal cavalry arrived on April 16, 1865.

“The following day the nearly completed ship was set ablaze and cut loose by her captors,” a panel at the naval museum says. “After drifting downstream some 30 miles, the Jackson ground on a sandbar and burned to the waterline.”

This view shows differing lengths and widths for armor (Picket photo)

Brandon Gilland points to area to where armor will be displayed (Picket photo)