The Casualties of War: a marriage, happiness and demise

 

This is my ancestor Henry Elias Munger. He was from Illinois, and fought with the 18th New York Infantry in the Civil War. He married Anne Snyder, also from Illinois, and a friend of Abraham Lincoln.

He became an alcoholic after the war. I imagine it was PTSD. He and Anne had three children: two boys and a girl.

After a few years, Anne could take his drinking and abuse no longer, and the last time she saw him, she was putting him on a train in Alton, Illinois, heading for Texas, where he was going to look for work on the railroad.

She was so worried that day. He was extremely drunk and she was scared to death he might pass out on the tracks and be run over by a train. But she managed to get him on his train. She never saw or heard from him again.

She sent her sons to live with her brother in Illinois and brought her daughter to Natchez to live with her relative, William Howard Pritchartt, who had built a house overlooking the river.

She was destitute and brought with her three items that had monetary value: a handwritten personal invitation written by Lincoln inviting her to his inauguration; a large portfolio of American Indian portraits, which she later sold; and her brother's naval commission signed by Gideon Welles, Secretary of the Navy and President Abraham Lincoln.

It's said she was a terrible housekeeper, and she lost the invitation, but we still have the naval commission.

His fate was a mystery in our family until a few years ago when a young man named Ryan A. Conklin contacted me. He was writing a book about the regiment Munger was in and what became of its members.

He was able to fill in the blanks for us, including a rather amusing description of an unexpected encounter with a group of Confederate soldiers when, far from both their picket lines while touring Mount Vernon, they engaged in a brief skirmish, which ended with a few shots being fired from both sides, after which they gave up and each fled back to their own picket lines, "...hopefully having gained some refined wisdom for their audacious minds." Conklin, Ryan A. The 18th New York Infantry in the Civil War: A History and Roster. North Carolina:  McFarland & Company, Inc. 2016. 

 According to Conklin's findings, Munger never regained sobriety and spent the rest of his days wandering from one railroad job to another, often fired for his drunkenness, which caused him to be cantankerous and violent. He earned a pension when an accident caused him to lose most of the use of both hands. It's not known how he died, but was discovered when he failed to collect his last pension check. He's buried in an unmarked grave in a pauper's cemetery in Lufkin, TX, called Stranger's Rest Cemetery, the only indication of his presence, his name engraved on a stone plaque placed in 1997, which lists the known names of those there interred. It took many years for Anne to go to Congress to prove his death and receive her "widder's mite," as being a devout Catholic, she never divorced him.

The Train Station

I'm going to post this, even thought it's not finished and I'm still not sure of all the facts.  But I need to post.

It was a dreary day in 1871 when Anne Gilbert Snyder Munger accompanied her husband, Henry Elias Munger, to the railroad station in Alton, Illinois.  After a tumultuous six years of marriage, Henry left her and her three children, and fled to Texas.  It was the last time she would ever see him, another casualty of the War Between the States.  Anne was a devout Catholic, so divorce was out of the question.

Munger graduated from Union College in Schenectady, New York as a sergeant, 1st lt., Company A. in 1861,   He returned home two years later with the 18th New York Infantry as a company commander, and acting adjutant.  

As a civilian after the war, Munger went to work for the commissary department in Illinois.  On November13, 1865, he married Anne Gilbert Snyder.  Henry and Anne had three children ⏤ their eldest  a daughter, Anne Lucy, followed by  two sons, Henry and Carlton. Henry Elias moved his family numerous times in search of railway jobs, which he quickly lost due to his drinking.  

While living in Hannibal, Anne could take no more of his drinking, took the children and left him.  That day at the train station, he was so drunk, she was nearly paralyzed with fear that he would collapse on a train track and be run over.  But she watched him totter onto a train headed for Texas.   Finally, she turned around and without looking back, returned home to collect her things and moved with her daughter, Anne Lucy, to be closer to family. 

After Henry Elias’ departure, his brothers, William and Lyman took the boys in, cared for them and educated them. Anne and her daughter then moved to Alton, Illinois in order for her to be closer to her family. One of her boys, Henry Snyder, lived with Lyman and Carlton lived with William. She never saw Henry again. 

Around 1885 while on a round trip cruise from St. Louis, Anne Lucy met Anchor Steam Lines purser, William Howard Pritchartt.  Pritchartt had fallen in love with the City of Natchez, Mississippi, and bought two lots on the tall bluff overlooking the Mississippi River, married Anne Lucy, built a home and raised a family there.  Around 1910, Anne Snyder Munger moved to Natchez to live with her daughter and their family.

To be fair, Munger probably suffered from PTSD. The Civil War was anything but civil, and he'd been in skirmishes and seen things that no one should have to see.  He started out as a fresh-faced young man with fair skin and an open, friendly, handsome face.

According to a passage from The18th New York Infantry in the Civil War:  A History and a Roster by Ryan A. Conklin, McFarland & Co., Inc., Publishers, 2016, Munger landed in Texas and became a vagabond, wandering all over the state looking for work.  He continued to drink and was described by saloon regulars as "ugly and quarrelsome" when drunk.  His last known whereabouts was in Beaumont, TX in 1901, where he failed to pick up his last pension check.  It was assumed that he had died, but how is not known.  His grave can be found in Lufkin, Texas in a pauper's cemetery called Strangers' Rest Cemetery where a small stone plaque  displays the names of known burials from early records.  On that plaque one can find the name, Harry E. Munger.

It took many years of going to the Congressional Library to find when he had died before she was finally able to get her "widder's mite,"  veterans' benefits for the widows of those who'd served.

For pictures of and stories about the house on the bluff, see https://shantybellum.blogspot.com/2011/09/long-farewell.html

Upon arriving in Natchez, Anne had two or three possessions that were valuable.  She was a personal friend of Abraham Lincoln, and, as such, had received a handwritten invitation to his inauguration.  Lincoln was one of those rare people, especially in such early days, to be a celebrity in his own time, and anything signed or written by him was worth its weight in gold.  Lincoln had written to her to personally invite her to his inauguration, which she dutifully kept, but later lost.  She was known as a terrible housekeeper and may have simply thrown it away accidentally. We looked in places she might've hidden the invitation to prevent theft, and upon taking the back off of the following photo, was excited to see a partial address on Pennsylvania Avenue.  It did not turn out to be the lost invitation; however, we discovered it is an original Matthew Brady photo, whose studio was on Pennsylvania Avenue.

H.S. Munger by Matthew Brady

H.S. Diary

She had her husband's Civil-War journal and a large book of paintings of American Indians, which she later sold.

She also had in her possession her brother's (Joseph Baker) naval commission, which he received in 1861, after having enlisted without his father's knowledge or permission.  

He was appointed in June, 1861, as lieutenant in the Marine Corps.  The commission, which is still extant, was signed by Gideon Welles, Secretary of the Navy and Abraham Lincoln, President of the United States.

He commanded the marine detachment that served the quarterdeck pivot gun on board the U.S.S. Congress during the historic battle at Hampton Roads in March, 1862.  The Confederates had seized the Union's ironclad, Merrimac, and sank the wooden Union ships Congress and Cumberland,  making wooden fighting ships forever obsolete.  He escaped the sinking Congress, however, and was described by a correspondent for the New York Herald thusly:  

"This young officer was twenty-one years of age on the evening before the battle, and is said to have conducted himself with unusual bravery and coolness."

Baker had also fought in the first battle of Bull Run, in which he was badly wounded and carried off the battlefield by his brother, John Pope Baker, who was a Cavalry officer.  He served through the war and rose to the rank of captain.  He was found dead in his quarters at the Marine Barracks, Boston Naval Yard, October 2, 1876, from the effects of Yellow Fever contracted during the war.

William Howard Pritchartt, Jr. R.I.P.

William Howard Pritchartt, Jr., 86, died March 5, at 1 a.m. at Natchez Community Hospital after a brief illness.

Mr. Pritchartt was born April 14, 1926, at the Natchez Sanitorium and attended Natchez Schools.

At the age of 18, Pritchartt volunteered to join the army during World War II, where he served in intelligence and reconnaissance.  He traveled to Europe on the Queen Mary and had many memories of his exploits overseas. 

Pritchartt was an entrepreneur.  Although he studied at the University of Mississippi, at Washington & Lee and at Amherst in preparation for his appointment at West Point, he left early to begin his career as a realtor and developer.  With partners and friends Paul Green, George Guido, and Waldo Lambdin, he developed several subdivisions, including Broadmoor and Pineview Subdivisions, and the Trees.  He also was involved in the development of Woodhaven next to Trinity Episcopal School and La Grange Subdivision near Liberty Road.

Pritchartt was instrumental in creating Trinity Episcopal School, visiting schools all across the country to learn about how to build a proper educational institution.  He also donated the land and built the main building on Highway 61 South.

Pritchartt’s life was defined not only by his children but his love of the outdoors and, in particular, of the Mississippi River, where he spent his youth with friends rowing the river, camping on sandbars, hunting, fishing and enjoying all that nature had to offer.  His love of the river was inspired by his father, who often took him and his friends on expeditions up and down the river.

His other great love was for his children with whom he spent nearly every weekend on the river in a cabin he built for that purpose.  With them, he showed them the outdoor life: fishing, swimming, hunting, boating, and riding horses through the woods – an opportunity few children shared.  He shared with them his time, his attention and his help, both emotionally and financially. 

He will always be remembered for his kindness in mentoring other businessmen and entrepreneurs and his overwhelming love and concern for other creatures.  Throughout his life he had numerous pets – cats, dogs, and chickens, and fed and protected the wild creatures that lived on his property near Kingston Road. 

Related posts:

A Man in Full

The Weight of Water

Army Humor

Road Trip

Howard's Revenge

Daddy

Adventures in World War II and Pritchartt Recalls Life of Boating on the Mississippi River

The Shanty-Boater

Balls of Steel

A Hollow Space

Army Humor

My father, Howard Pritchartt, Jr., volunteered for the army when he was 18 years old.  He was in intelligence and reconnaissance in France and Germany.  In preparation for his service, he was sent to Amherst, Massachussetts, where he made a name for himself as somewhat of a prankster.

He began drawing cartoons of the officers there and posting them secretly at night when no one was around, raising the ire of those portrayed.  I think he was pretty darned good and may have missed his calling as a cartoonist.

This is the only one not done at Amherst.  On the back it reads, "Europe Jan 45 - Aug 46

A Man in Full

My father died on March 5.  I invited my old friend Brent Bourland to give the eulogy.  He'd known him for years, and seemed to have an innate understanding of my father's personality and character.  They both seemed to share the same joy of life, love of the outdoors and grabbing life by the horns and enjoying the ride.  And they both seem ageless, youth refusing to leave them be.  This is the eulogy Brent gave, which was beautiful, heartfelt and eloquent.  Thank you, Brent.

A MAN IN FULL, Howard Pritchartt was A MAN IN FULL.

As I look around, almost everyone in this room has had the good fortune to be a part of Natchez and its rich past and continuing history.  But very few of us have had the great fortune to be the ultimate insider and also a dedicated and stubborn outsider.  Howard Pritchartt chose that course.  You could say that Howard was born a Natchez blueblood with Mississippi river mud in his soul. 

Having been born into one of the "oldest" families in Natchez, Howard, as a boy, was welcome walking into the back door of Stanton Hall and then getting out of there as fast as he could to go look for adventure in the mud on the banks of his great friend the River.

Howard was comfortable with the powerful of Natchez, whom he loved to skewer with relish at every opportunity but he was really in his World with his many friends Under the Hill, like Joe Remondet and Steve Stevens, as well as George Guido, Johnny Ogden, Lucius Butts, Neville Marshall and a host of others I can’t recall off the top of my head. .................... 

Howard kept his beloved boats tied to Steve's makeshift barge Under the Hill with its walkway made of old boards, oil drums and cables.  How it stayed afloat and tied to the willow trees along the bank we'll never understand.   Howard would grab Joe and Steve and any other handy river rat and head out for a day on the river, a bunch of overgrown Huck Finns, just glad to be alive.  Howard was always alive, very, very alive.  You could also count on a big fish fry of river blue cats when they got back.  Life was good for Howard and his many friends, Howard made sure of that. Howard shared.

I can still see Howard walking in the unlocked back door to the President's Office of City Bank and Trust Company.  Ethel would shout, "Leslie, Howard's here", (that was the intercom of the day) and Leslie Carpenter would shout, "Well, tell him to come on back", of course by that time Howard was already sitting down in front of the desk.  Five minutes later a financial transaction would be struck on a handshake and paper work might or might not be done later.  These were men of character, along with many others of their day, and they knew each other and they knew that they were good for their word.

Howard shared. Few people knew all the many quiet kindnesses that Howard made happen.  If a man needed a handy job to feed his kids, Howard seemed to find one for him.  If someone was behind on her rent, well, somehow it just got taken care of.  If a kid needed a little help getting through school, Howard had a way of making that happen, most of the time without them ever knowing who or how.  Howard Shared.

Howard was a protector and he could be fierce and he could intimidate when he needed to.  Just try being a young man trying to get anywhere near one of his two daughters.  I’m surprised either one of them ever got a date before they were 25 years old. 

My first real memory of Howard was going to pick Elodie up at her house on Linton Avenue to take her to the King’s Ball.  It was about dusk but Howard was in the yard watering the lawn, he didn’t speak when I walked by.  When Elodie and I came back down the sidewalk, long dress and tux, Howard causally turned the water hose on us and made his feelings clearly known.  That is my daughter and you watch it boy. (You might also add he laughed his ass off as he did it while we fumed)  It was clear, Howard Pritchartt was not a man to be crossed.  Howard would do whatever it took to protect what he loved most, his family.

A few years later on a hot, steamy summer day, a bunch of us were over at Howard’s place on old river.  I wasn’t sure Howard was very pleased to have me there.  After a while Howard said he needed help with a fishtrap out in the river and asked me to go out and check it.  It was about 100 feet off the bank in about 4 feet of muddy water.  I wasn’t crazy about the idea but it really wasn’t a request; it was more of an order.  It was a test and we both knew it.  Howard wanted to know what kind of a man you were.  He already knew what kind he was.  So out I went deeper and deeper over my waist.  I got to the trap and got a grip on the big homemade fishtrap and lifted up out of the water to eye level.  I was face to face with the biggest snake on the entire Mississippi river.   It was just a water snake, and drowned, but big as an anaconda, especially face to face.  Howard knew it was in there.  I flunked the hell out of that test.  You might say Howard and I had a little rocky start.  But I think I really learned how to swim really fast that day. 

Howard loved and pursued life with a passion, a fierce passion.  Howard was fit and he made sure he stayed that way because that gave him the physical presence to pursue all of his life's many passions.  When most men in their 60s, 70s or even 80s are taking it easy, winding down, looking for a rocking chair, not Howard. You were likely to find him on his side porch, drenched in sweat, on his Olympic bench press lifting more weights than a man in his twenties.  Howard hated old age and he fought it.  He fought it fiercely.  No man will ever win that fight and Howard knew that but it didn’t keep him from fighting it at every turn.  And he damn near won.  After all Howard Pritchartt was A MAN IN FULL.  

Delivered March 9, 2013 at the funeral of William Howard Pritchartt, Jr. by Brent Bourland.