A story of famine and survival, desertion and love—with a dash of alcohol-fueled fighting. This is the story of James McCandless.
Family would attest for years that he came to this country clutching a cotton bale to keep from drowning, floating down the Atlantic. The merchant ship he stowed away on had long since sunk down into the depths of the ocean, shortly after being destroyed by fire. He—and a few other men who were also able to find floating bits of cargo to which they could cling—narrowly escaped death as they drifted for days across open waters. Sunburned, exhausted, soaked and thoroughly chilled, it was a wonder they didn't die of pneumonia or exposure, that they weren't eaten by sharks, nor perish due to dehydration. Yet, as the story goes, somehow they were spotted bobbing near the coast of North Carolina, where ultimately they were rescued and delivered to Wilmington.
Did it truly happen that way? Did James McCandless sneak onto a merchant ship, hide successfully as a stowaway for weeks, only to be thrust out of hiding when a ship fire forced him to fight to survive? And why would a ship filled with cotton be headed from Ireland to the United States in the 1850s?
How Mr. McCandless actually got to the United States we may never know, but what we do know about his time here is story enough.
Born in the early 1830s in Ireland, McCandless seems to have been ethnically Scottish, and more than likely was an Ulster Scot.¹ Often referred to as "Scots-Irish" or "Scotch-Irish" in the U.S., Ulster Scots were and are a distinct group of mostly Presbyterian Lowland Scots who settled in Ulster province in Northern Ireland largely throughout the 1600-1700s. Some of these Scottish immigrants set out for Ireland themselves, in hopes of finding prosperity. However, many of them were forced to settle there as part of the British government's scheme to overrun the native Northern Irish with loyal British (and Protestant) subjects. Many Ulster Scots later immigrated to the United States and Canada.
In the late 1840s, when James was entering adulthood, more than a few people were leaving Ireland. The Great Famine began about 1845 and lasted until 1849, resulting in the death of at least one million Irish and the exodus of approximately two million. The sudden and desperate departures of so many individuals left oversight and safety on the back burner.
By 1847, the ships carrying the Irish to North America were so notoriously dangerous that they were referred to as "coffin ships." Not only were the ships overfilled and undersupplied, some of the ships were nowhere near sufficiently seaworthy to survive the journey across the Atlantic. There is at least one account of a ship sinking into the ocean while it was still visible to the waving family members on shore.²
Irish Coffin Ship, Below Deck. Painting by Rodney Charman, 1970.
We think it's possible that the McCandless family tale of a "cotton ship" may have originally been in reference to a coffin ship on which James may have arrived. Stowaway or not, his journey to the States must certainly have been a harrowing one.
His story, however, doesn't end there. The family legend³ goes on to say that after drying out in Wilmington, James McCandless then "rode the rails" to Goldsboro, North Carolina, where he met, fell in love with, and married a 16-year-old girl named Susan Scott. Here, the records tell a bit of a different story. In May of 1861, McCandless enlisted with the Confederacy, joining the North Carolina 3rd Regiment, Company D. By May of the following year, however, he was sentenced to be drummed out. While there are no official reasons given on his sentence, his marriage a month later in June of 1862 to Susan Scott suggests that he may have deserted for love.
"Drumming out" was an involved process for dishonorably discharging soldiers, particularly deserters. Often soldiers had their heads shaved, they were put in prisoner's clothes, and sometimes even flogged. They were then marched out to the tune of "The Rogue's March" or "Yankee Doodle Dandy" while members of their former battalion then yelled at them and shamed them from inside the post.
Fort Wayne Daily Gazette, 2 Jul 1885
Was a young Susan Scott waiting in the bushes to guide her disgraced soldier home? And was deserting from the Confederacy such a disgrace after all?
James and Susan McCandless went on to have seven children together, but their marriage was far from ideal. James McCandless was a drinker, so much so that he had garnered a reputation within the community as such. At the time, there were few resources available to alcoholics, and though James tried to stay sober, he was largely unsuccessful.
After a reported five-year stretch of sobriety, a "very unfortunate incident" occurred.
The Goldsboro Headlight, 26 Oct 1883
To say that this is the only hatchet or ax attack we have uncovered in the family histories of our clients would be a gross misrepresentation of the truth. Indeed, we have seen many. But the image of Mr. McCandless, an on-again/off-again drinker, a hopeful Scots-Irish immigrant who became a Confederate solider and then a Confederate deserter and then a poor tenant farmer threatening his helpless family only to be struck down by the hatcheting hands of his very landlord? It's a hard one to forget.
It was not a fatal hatchet wound, just as The Goldsboro Headlight had predicted, and just a week later the follow-up in the paper seems to have been penned by someone who had perhaps also suffered a head wound, and, thus, developed a convenient case of amnesia in regards to the actual cause of the wound.
The Goldsboro Headlight, 2 Nov 1893
Perhaps this was the stuff of casual breakfast conversation in eastern North Carolina in the late 1890s?
"Old Mr. McCandless is recovering nicely. Small head wound you'll remember."
"Now, was he the one who threatened to murder his whole family, and then attempted to stab his landlord, who was keeping said family safe, in the heart, only to miss? Because he was so drunk?"
"That's the one. Then his landlord, Mr. Needham J. Smith, you'll remember, hit him with a bit of an axe. Skull fracture, but recovering well."
"Oh, that's nice. Perhaps he'll sober up and stop terrorizing his family."
Whether Mr. McCandless did ultimately get sober and atone for his deeds, we may never know. He died five years later from "the effects of a chill." We're guessing he developed and died from pneumonia, a common death for alcoholics.
His obituary described him as a man who "fought nobly for our Southland," and stated that his wife and children would "mourn his demise."
Goldsboro Daily Argus, 22 Aug 1898
We think his wife and children were the real soldiers. Rest in peace, Mr. McCandless.
Notes
¹ On the 1880 U.S. Census, James identified himself and his parents as Scottish. 1880 U.S. Census, Pitt County, North Carolina, population schedule, Farmville Township, ED 126, dwelling 12, family 13, James McCandless; Ancestry (accessed 11 Aug 2022).
² Wakin, Edward, Enter the Irish-American (iUniverse, May 2002), 28.
³ The family story referred to in this post is courtesy of the late Ethel McCandless, daughter of Charles McCandless, James and Susan McCandless’s 2nd youngest son.
Sources
Smith, Jim, "Northern Ireland," Brittanica (accessed 11 Aug 2022).
"About the Ulster Scots," The Ulster Scots Society of America (accessed 11 Aug 2022).
"Great Famine (Ireland)," Wikipedia (accessed 11 Aug 2022).
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