As the overburdened sidewheeler struggled around the islands the boilers let go...  they did not let go slowly, they exploded.  A hellish spray of molten hot metal and water blasted most of the passengers of the Sultana into the cold and muddy Mississippi.  The sound was heard in Memphis miles away.  Packet captains had their ships unloosed and headed up the river to assist the crew and passengers. 

The rescue effort was not in vain, but the vast majority of victims were to perish almost immediately.  Scalded, drowning with burning debris cascading down upon them many soldiers last thought must have been one of total confusion.  There was very little substantial floating wreckage to hold onto, but some soldiers managed to gain a purchase on large pieces of floating wood and drift to an island.  Meanwhile others were pinned in the main hulks of wreckage, burning to death in the cold and unforgiving muddy water.

A large portion of the ship was still in tact and now began to burn in earnest.  Coals shot into the air and men who could not swim jumped to their preferred death from the firey and sinking remains of the Sultana.  The large steam pipes tilted, then fell into the water and the boat began to submerge.  Those who were trapped below deck and the large sum of gold on board headed to the bottom.  The remainder of the event grows more grizzly as innocent men prayed for mercy that was not to come. 

Possibly the most positive part of the story is the quick response of the other boats.  One Confederate soldier used a small boat to rescue 15 Union soldiers.  The following morning sailors were drifting in the cold water all the way to Memphis holding on to doors and windows.  Others, found closer to the site of the explosion were found on the banks or clinging to trees, scalded beyond recognition.  Overall about 600 were brought to Memphis hospitals with about 200 dying shortly after arrival.  Barges were sent out daily from Memphis every day thereafter, returning with their strange cargo of men who had suffered years in the cruel and sparsely supplied Confederate prisons, only to see one moment of hope then die in a way much more horrible than Confederate interment would every have proffered.

In the general rush to disperse from Vicksburg no full tally was taken of the men on board.  The number of 1,700 is an average of estimates.  Stories that Confederates had saboutaged the ship are understandable on an emotional level, but never proved to be true.  The obvious problem is generally accepted now.  People did what they knew should not be done and died.  In regard to the cause of the wreck a Union spokesman said, "It is the common opinion among engineers that an explosion of steam boilers is impossible when they have the proper quantity of water in them, but boilers may burst from an over-pressure of steam when they are full of water, owing to some defective part of the iron, in which there is generally no harm done than giving way of the defective part and the consequent escape of steam. One engineer who is said to be the most reliable on the river, says that even in such a case the great power of the steam, having once found a yielding place, tears everything before it, producing the effect of an explosion, and his view seems to be reasonable. What is usually understood as the explosion of the boiler is caused by the sudden development of an intense steam by the water coming in contact with red-hot iron, which produces an effect like the firing of gunpowder in a mine, and the destruction of the boilers and the boat that carries them is the consequence."

The situation was not reported with focus and gravity nationally.  President Lincoln had died 11 days earlier, General Johnston had surrendered the day before and many other post-war privations, injuries, broken men returned to impoverished homes overshadowed the disaster of the Sultana.  Happier times would make much hay from the maritime disasters that followed, each of which caused fewer deaths than the wreck of this one packet sidewheeler, woefully overloaded with sick and weary men a few miles north of Memphis.

The following pages contain some first and second hand accounts of the personal wreckage.

| 1 | 2 | Account of J. R. Collins | Down the Ages |