Daniel Garber

Daniel Garber's experiences as soldier, prisoner-of-war, and survivor of the worst maritime disaster in American history in his own words from “Loss of the Sultana” (1892) compiled by Chester D. Berry:

“I was born in Washington County, Pennsylvania, April 8th, 1828 and enlisted in the services of the United States at Bellville, Ohio, August 16th, 1862, in Company E, 102nd Regiment, Ohio Volunteer Infantry, as a private.

The regiment was assigned to the 20th Army Corps. I engaged in the campaign in Kentucky and Tennessee in pursuit of the rebel General Bragg in 1862. In all the marches and engagements of the regiment I took part, from Louisville, Kentucky, until I was taken prisoner at Athens, Alabama, Sept. 23rd, 1864. The union forces were attempting to drive General Hood back. I was at the time afflicted with catarrh in my left hand and was unable for duty. I, with about forty others, was quartered in a large brick mansion which for the time served as a hospital.

The rebel cavalry, under the command of General N.B. Forrest, captured the town of Athens, and surrounding the hospital made prisoners of all within except a comrade who escaped by climbing up the chimney. They were taken by the way of Cherokee to Meridian, Mississippi, and while passing through here a citizen asked, “Where did those ‘Yanks’ come from?” The colonel in charge replied, “They are chiefly from Ohio and Indiana, and are good boys.” “They may be good boys, but they have stolen all our negroes,” was the reply.

We continued our journey through Selma, Alabama to Cahaba in the same state. When we arrived here we were required to register and received instructions as to the position of the dead line, which it was certain death to cross. I once stepped over this line, but fortunately was not seen by the guard. An escape was planned and the inside guard was overpowered and disarmed, while the guard outside ran away, but owing to the lack of decisive action on the part of the prisoners the attempt failed and we were driven back into prison. A cannon was planted in the door of the main building and we were called upon to surrender. Our punishment was a fast of forty-eight hours. In the meantime a guard had said he had bayoneted a prisoner, and we were compelled to undress and hold our clothes above our heads, and march between the guards, but fortunately he was not discovered.

On or about the first of March, 1865, the Alabama river got very high, owing to the incessant rain for the past few days, and consequently overflowed the prison to a depth of two feet, at the high place, making it very disagreeable, for we had no place to stand up or lie down but in the water.

About the 16th or 17th of March I was taken out with the last squad for parole, and we were taken by way of Selma, Demopolis and Jackson, Mississippi. While over night at Demopolis, Sergeant D.P. Canada, of my company, died. We stopped a day at Jackson, where a few of the boys drew some clothes. From there we were taken to Big Black, in the rear of Vicksburg, where we arrived on the 21st day of March.

Our men received us under the glorious stars and stripes on the 22nd, and we went into parole camp three or four miles in the rear of Vicksburg. Here we remained until the 25th or 26th of April, when I, with about 2100 paroled prisoners, was taken on board the ill-fated steamer “Sultana.” We started up the broad Mississippi with fond hopes of soon seeing the dear ones at home, but how few of us had the pleasure of realizing these hopes.

We arrived at Memphis a short time before dark and took on coal and other matters. We left Memphis shortly after midnight on the 27th and when seven miles above there the steamer’s boiler exploded. I was at that time lying beside the pilot house with Corporal Jacob Irons of my company, and was asleep when it occurred. My first recollection was that I was on my feet and enveloped in a cloud of hot steam, and was considerably scalded in the face. After the steam had risen I said to Corporal Irons, “What is the matter?” and he said the boat had blown up. He seemed to be very much excited, and told me they thought they could make the shore. These were the last words he spoke to me, but as the boys kept jumping off from the boat into the river he kept calling for them not to for they would not all be saved.

I then began to look around to devise some means of escape. I stepped back to where some of my company’s boys were untying a yawl; I thought that I would help them get it down, and then I thought if I did they would all jump for it and perhaps be lost, which I learned afterward was the case. I then got a shutter and board from off the pilot house and tied them together with a pair of drawers. By that time the flames had come through. I then got over the railing behind the wheel house and climbed down to the lower deck. By this time all was confusion and men were jumping off into the river to get away from the flames. I looked around for a clear place to jump, for I knew if I jumped in where men were struggling they would seize my board and I would be lost, for I could swim but very little.

I waited a short time and when there was an opening large enough I threw my board in, jumped on and went down under quite a way, but came up alright and floated away from the boat. After I had gone four or five rods a bundle of clothing came floating along and I took it with my right hand and held onto the board with my left. I then floated with the current. I think I went on the south side of the island. I saw a boat going up on the other side and could see it by the side of the wreck as I floated down the river. I also remember seeing the lights of Memphis as I went along.

I was picked up four miles below Memphis by two men in a yawl and rowed to the gunboat “Pocahontas” where I was taken in; eleven miles from the scene of the disaster. I wish to state here that there were thirteen of my company on board the “Sultana” and but two besides myself were saved. Their names were William Lockhart and William Yeisley. About the last thing I remembered was that I was very nearly chilled to death and could not survive much longer. They gave me stimulants, and I did not remember any more until the next morning when I found myself undressed and between two mattresses. We were given red drawers and shirts by the Christian Sanitary Commission. I was then taken to the Gayoso House, where I think I stopped two days. After drawing clothing we were put on the steamer “Belle of St. Louis”, our destination being Cairo, Illinois. While going there in the night I remembered several incidents that were amusing. Some of the more timid were springing up at every little noise, thinking there was going to be another explosion. At one time we supposed that they were having a race with another boat, and one comrade said if he had a gun he would shoot the Captain. I wish to mention another little incident right here. There chanced to be another citizen on the boat, and discovering that I was a Mason, he gave me a dollar and told me to get something I needed with it. I thanked him very cordially, for it was the first money I had in my possession for a long time. I hope if he is living now and reads this he will remember this incident and will know that I have not forgotten him.

I think we arrived at Cairo in the evening of the second day after leaving Memphis. We left here after twelve o’clock that night for Mattoon, Illinois, where we arrived the next day, about two o’clock, and here the good citizens gave us a lunch. Our next destination was Terre Haute, Indiana, which we reached at ten that night. We remained here until the next morning. Our next move was to Indianapolis. We stopped there part of a day. From there we went to Camp Chase, Ohio where we arrived on the fourth or fifth of May, 1865. Here I was discharged by special telegram from the War Department on the 21st.

When I came home I worked at my old trade on the shoe bench for about ten years; since that time I have been farming. Have raised family of four girls and three boys and all are married but one boy.”

Obituary, Bellville Messenger, 27 April 1906:

Garber, Daniel -- Daniel Garber, a resident of Butler and vicinity for over fifty years, died Friday evening at 7 o'clock from the direct effects of a paralytic stroke sustained a week prior. The funeral was held Monday at 1 p.m. from his late home southwest of Butler, under the auspices of Miller Moody Post, G.A.R., of which he was a member. Rev. N.E. Spicer, of Attica, conducted the services, after which the remains were laid to rest in the Yarger Cemetery. Deceased was born in Washington Co., Pa., April 8, 1828, and at the time of his death was 78 years and 12 days old. He came to Ohio when quite young, locating in Jefferson Twp., where he was married to Matilda Oldfield, July 22, 1849. Soon after his marriage he came to Butler and opened a shoe repairing shop. About 1858 he removed to a farm west of Butler, where he resided many years. Of the eleven children born to them, the following with the widow survive: Mrs. Loback, of Clinton, Okla.; Mrs. Addison Hamilton, of near Bellville; Mrs. O.B. Wineland, of Mt. Vernon; Mrs. F.J. Divelbiss, of near Butler; Michael Garber, of Mt. Vernon; Jacob S. Garber, of Butler, and David Scott Garber, at whose home deceased resided when he died. Deceased served two years and nine months in the service of his country during the war of the rebellion, having enlisted at Bellville Aug. 16, 1862, in Co. E, 102 O.V.I., as a private. Engaged in the campaign in Kentucky and Tennessee in pursuit of the rebel Gen. Bragg, in 1862. He was taken prisoner at Athens, Ala., Sept. 24, 1864, while in a hospital with catarrh in the left hand. The town of Athens was captured by rebel cavalry under Gen. N.B. Forest and taken to Menden, Miss. Here an escape was planned, but failed for lack of preconcerted action and were thrown back into prison under punishment of a fast of 48 hours. At the end of six months they were exchanged and sent to Jackson, Miss., from whence they marched to Big Black river, three miles in the rear of Vicksburg. April 26, about 2100 prisoners went aboard the ill-fated Sultana for passage up the Mississippi River. When seven miles above Memphis the boilers exploded and 1400 men were either killed or drowned. Mr. Garber was on the upper deck and was badly scalded by steam and hot water, and did not leave the boat until compelled to do so by the flames. He secured a window shutter and floated with the current 11 miles before he was picked up and taken to Memphis. From there he was taken to Camp Chase, at Columbus, Ohio, and discharged May 20, 1865, by special order of secretary of war. -- [Bellville Messenger: 27 April 1906, Vol. 14, No. 13]