Name: Ernest Hilliare Wardwell
Birth: 13 DEC 1842 in Baltimore, Baltimore, Maryland 1
Occupation: Salesman in 1880, Journalist in 1900, Manufacturing Agent in 1910
Death: 04 SEP 1922 in Pocomoke, Worcester, Maryland 2
Union Soldier in Civil War rising from Private to Captain. His brother Stephen served in the Confederacy, but both were wounded and hospitalized at the same hospital in Baltimore. Through Ernest's effort's, Stephen was released in an exchange of prisoners. It is said he was killed in Kansas.
-Samuel Wardwell of Andover & A Line of his Descendants-Stuart Byles & Marjorie Wardwell Otten
Filed for Civil War Pension as "invalid" in 1869. Living in Oakland MD at 1880 census. In Baltimore at 1890 Veteran's Census and 1900 census.
Living on Laurel Street in Pocomoke, MD at 1910 & 1920 census.
Died of Heart Attack at 2:30PM.
1870: commission document from Mass.'thanking him for his services in the Civil War and his patriotism.
Commission from State of Maryland appt. him Lt. Col., commanding 2nd Battalion of 1st Maryland Infantry.
In a letter to Hillaire Bell Wardwell from his mother: "Ernest Hilliare was nominated to the to the Senate for appointment as Captain and assistant quartermaster March 11, 1865, and confimed the same date. The death of the President in April, 1865, delayed the issuing of many commissions among them that of Capt.
Wardwell. On May 11, 1865, the commission was finally sent to him and was accepted."
In December, 1885 a bill was introduced in Congress to pay for a bill for the back pay of Ernest H. Wardwell.
-The Herald Torch and Light 17 December 1885
Commander of Second Battalion of Maryland Militia Encampment
The Herald Torch & Light 28 July 1887
"Colonel E.H. Wardwell, of Oakland, has received by express from Messrs. Field & Hubbard, proprietors of the Hotel Brevoort, Chicago, a handsome prize for the Haymaker Rifle Team. The prize is a handsomely-inscribed solid silver swinging water pitcher and cup. In their letter tendering the gift the donors speak in very complimenatry terms of the conduct and bearing of the Haymakers whilst in Chicago, and express the hope that they will maintain their supremacy as marksmen. The members of the team will contest amongst themselves for the above-named prize on Thanksgiving Day."
The Herald Torch & Light 17 November 1887
1887: appointment of Colonel Ernest H. Wardwell as an Aide in the parade for the inauguration of President McKinley
-William Wardwell of Andover, Massachusetts with an Informal Collection of His Descendants through the 8th Generation. Marjorie Wardwell Otten
"Ernest H. Wardwell, prominent Civil War Veteran of Maryland, is dead in his home in Pocomoke City. He was 73 years old. While the battle of Gettysburg was being fought, Mr. Wardwell was convalescing in Baltimore from wounds received at Babina and South River. He returned to duty and became the special aid of General Z. B. Tyler in command of the Northwestern defense of Baltimore."
-The Gettysburg Times 16 September 1922
"Ernest, the 2nd son and 4th child of Matilda Ann (Ackland) and Simon Willard Wardwell, was born December 13, 1842, in Baltimore, Maryland. Four years later the family migrated westward, settling first at Cumberland, and then by 1850, at Grantsville (now Garrett County), Maryland. After the death of Matilda Wardwell in the Spring of 1860, the family moved westward to Oakland, Maryland, four miles from the present West Virginia border.
In the Spring of 1861, Ernest was attending the Adams School in Baltimore. "On the 19th of April, 1861, Union Troops of the 6th Massachusetts Regiment, having arrived in Baltimore the previous day, were involved in a bloody riot with the citizens. As the corner of Light Street, Mayor Brown called to the soldiers at his side not to shoot. Then seeing his own helplessness against further disaster, he retired from the line of March, but not before a boy in the crowd handed him a discharged musket which a soldier had dropped."*
"The boy in the crowd" was 19-year-old Ernest Wardwell, and many years later he wrote of his adventures for the Boston "Globe". The long article was entitled Old Sixth Mass. in Baltimore: Reminiscences of a Southern Boy Who Joined Regiment", and it was as follows:
"The 19th day of April, 1861, dawned clear and bright, but the air was resonant with excitement, and rumors that filled the mind with dire foreboding flew far and wide. We in the school could not study, our minds were not on the lessons, nor could we keep our eyes on the books, and the teachers seemed to be even more affected. Suddenly the fire bells began to ring, and the excitement became so intense, that Mr. Adams said we were dismissed for the day. We sprang from our seats as though the house was on fire, and in a twinkling were out on the street.
"'Come on Ernie', said my chum, Harry Cook, 'let's find out what's going on.' When we reached the corner of South and Pratt Streets we were for a time completely hemmed in by the tremendous crowd, who were greatly agitated and who, with loud courses and yells, were busily engaged in throwing bricks, cobble stones and oyster shells at a number of cars loaded with soldiers that were being drawn by horses on the railroad tracks at Camden station. The mob was very violent and shouted all manner of vile names and kept up a steady flow of missiles at the car windows through which could be seen the uniformed occupants. We boys soon caught the mad fever, and yelled and shouted with the best of them, and if we did not throw anything it was simply for the want of of something to throw. It was indeed an awful scene, and how ever the men were able to drive the horses onward and the crowd managed to get out of the way seemed little short of a miracle, but they did, and that, too, at a breakneck pace, the crowd following like a coniferous pack of howling wolves.
"We boys kept with that part of the mob which went toward President Street Station and succeeded in getting as far as where it turns into Pratt Street, when the crowd began to surge backward, and along the front came loud cries of 'Here they come, here they come!' Soon a detachment of policemen, headed by several city officials, made their appearance, ordering and thrusting back the people from the street. Closely following the police came the troops with their guns at the 'right shoulder' and with the bayonets 'fixed'.
"At the sight of the troops the mob grew frantic with rage, and daunted not by the officials and police, at once began to jeer and abuse the soldiers with loud shouts of 'You Yankee dogs', 'You'll never go back', 'Murderers', 'Yankee scum', etc. These shouts came from every quarter, accompanied by clods of oyster shells, bricks and stones. As the troops got fairly into Pratt Street, the demonstrations grew more violent, the upper windows of the houses were used from which to launch pitchers, plates, bowls and every conceivable weapon that could be found available. A gun store was broken into, the arms seized and quickly distributed among the infuriated crowd, many of whom would have made them of immediate use, but for the lack of ammunition."
"As we neared the east side of Long Docks, the crowd was so wedged in from Marsh Market space, as to completely block the street, and the troops unable to proceed, were obliged to come to a 'halt'. I became entangled between the platoons of one of the companies, and separated from Cook, whom I never saw again. During the 'halt' the officer in command of the battalion mounted a pile of stones that were racked up near the edge of the dock, and implored the mob to fall back. 'Men of Baltimore'. he shouted, 'we have no quarrel with you. We only ask the fight of transit through the city to obey our orders'. Before he could proceed farther he was struck with a piece of heading and knocked over.
"That speech, and that blow, changed the current of my being. I had often to my own boyish squad, in playing soldiers, made use of the Napoleonic adage: 'Obey orders, if it break kings'. Truly these soldiers were not to blame. They were not here of their own volition, but by orders, and they had no alternative but to go forward. I began to soften toward them, and then to sympathize, and finally, pushing up to a sergeant who was carrying the gun of a disabled comrade, in addition to his own, I said:
'Give me the gun, I'll carry it for you!'
'Go 'way, or I'll run it through you', he returned, thinking I was only trying to get it away from him.
'No, no', I said, 'give it to me--I'm with you!'
'Are you?', he answered. 'Well, then fall in there' and he pushed me into the rear rank of the platoon and placed the gun in my hands, telling the man next to me to look out for it.
"At first I was so confused and frightened at what I had done that I wished myself away, but before I could think much about it the police had the crowd back for a few feet, and the march was resumed. The clamor and disorder was terrifying and the actions of the mob were more threatening than ever. Men rushed up to the flanks of the companies and endeavored to wrest the guns from out of the hands of the troops. Gun and pistol shots were being fired from the windows, several of the men being wounded. When the head of the column reached Gay Street, an order was given to fire over the heads of the crowd, hoping to intimidate and thereby cause the rioters to fall back. The order was executed and a volley fired, which tore the bricks out of the upper stories of several houses on the northwest corner of Gay and Pratt Streets,. sending showers of pieces flying down upon the people below, who, instead of falling back became more threatening and aggressive. Several of the soldiers were knocked down, and Captain Byke of the Stoneham company was mortally wounded by a gunshot fired from some unseen quarter.
"The mob was frenzied, and boldly defied and dared the soldiers to shoot, taunting them with cowardice, and being afford of their 'Yankee necks'. Seeing that the situation was indeed critical and required the most extreme remedy, the commanding officer, Lt. Col. Watson, reluctantly gave the order to 'fire', which order was obeyed by the rear rank of the platoon with fatal effect.
"So close indeed were the rioters that the men had difficulty in leveling their pieces, and when too late the poor victims endeavored to get back, the dense body of the crowd prevented it. The volley was a deadly one and opened the street sufficiently wide for a strengthening movement to be executed, during which several discharges took place. After this the column of platoons was pushed rapidly forward, and the firing became desultory and scattering.
"How many were killed I never knew (Four infantrymen were killed, 36 wounded according to "The American Heritage Civil War Chronology", 1960); my brain was in a whirl; I saw dozens of men lying in the street as we ran by and heard the cries an groans of many more."
"I did not fire. In fact I was so terrified that I never knew I had a gun. The man whom I had been put in charge of was named Parsons and he was very kind to me. He pushed and pulled me along and told me not to be afraid, that we would soon reach the rest of the Regiment".
"For one or two squares we were but little molested. At Light Street, however, the disorder broke out afresh and the mob was better armed and full of vicious mischief. At the Maltby House a broadside of shots and missiles came from the windows and several men were killed and wounded in the platoon in which I was marching, notable among whom was a corporal in the front rank, who was carried in a dying condition into the book store opposite. I learned afterward that his name was Needham and that he was a young lawyer of talent and, popularity in the city of Lawrence (Massachusetts).
"After the fusillade from the Maltby House, the crowd seemed less hostile and we met with but little opposition, soon reaching Camden Station, where I soon found myself going to Washington in the ranks of the 6th Massachusetts Volunteer Militia, a crack organization of that state, and commanded by Col. Edward F. Jones.
"We reached Washington late in the evening and our arrival created almost as much excitement as in Baltimore, save that it was of a different kind. There was but a short march to our quarters which was the capitol building itself, the company I was in being one of a number that occupied the hall of the House of Representatives, and it was the only time I ever had the 'privilege of the floor'. Parsons and I arranged to sleep under one blanket, using his great coat to lie upon.
"The next evening, after we had finished our suppers, Parsons said, 'Well, let's go over to Co. F and see if we can find anybody that knows your folks!' I was introduced as 'the little rebel captured in Baltimore' who had come to learn whether or not any of the men of Co. F knew my relations, the Wardwells [of Andover] and Barkers of Methuen. We were surrounded by half of the company most of whom, if not personally acquainted, knew the people of whom we inquired. Frank Sanborn--dear, old, lovable, open-handed, loyal-hearted--my mind goes back to him as though it were but yesterday, and my heart went out to him from the moment that he ran his big, strong hand over my head and said, 'Is Willard Wardwell your father?' I answered, 'Yes, Sir', whereupon he turned and said, 'Parsons, let me take this lad, I know his people well. I will look after him and see that he reaches them in safety'."
On the third day of Ernest's adventures, other regiments arrived in Washington including "Nim's Battery, under the command of Benjamin F. Butler. Company commanders were told to hold themselves in readiness, and on the following day all the troops returned to Baltimore. Though no fighting ensued, Ernest learned "soldiering" over the next few months. By the first of August the 6th Massachusetts was relieved, and Ernest joined them in their return to Massachusetts.
The trip north was made by train to Philadelphia, by boat to New York, and then by train to Boston, where the soldiers were quartered overnight at Faneuil Hall. The following morning, the 6th Massachusetts was mustered out at Boston Common. "I had been told I would not receive any pay, and I was, therefore, heart broken by disappointment, as I was in a strange land and had not a cent. But it was but a few minutes when Sanborn and the Sergeant came to me and placing in my hands a roll of money said, 'it was a pony purse from the officers and men to their little rebel'."
-Marjorie Wardwell Otten
Pratt street riot of 1861
(originally aired April 18, 2002)
In 1907, Ernest Wardwell, an aging union army veteran who had fallen on hard times, sat down to write a memoir of his civil war experience. He was fourteen and a student at "The Adams School" in Baltimore when it began. The confederates had fired on Fort Sumter, and the first regiments in union blue were marching through the city to protect Washington.
"The nineteenth day of April 1861 is one that will always be vivid in my memory," he recalled. "it dawned clear and bright-but the air was resonant with rumors and excitement... . The newsboys were shouting 'all about the Yankee invaders' who were coming to pillage our city. Groups of men and even women stood on the street corners, . . . Talking loudly. . . . Everybody seemed full of patriotic fire, . . . Knots of men . . . Carrying guns and pistols hurried through the streets . . . Suddenly the fire-bells began to ring, and . . . The principal said that we were dismissed."
Wardwell and his pal, Henry cook, raced to the President Street Railroad Station where the troops were coming in. Around them, men were swearing they weren't going to let the Yankees enter the city. Then teams of horses began drawing the railroad cars west up Pratt Street toward Camden Station and the railroad to Washington.
"Stones, brickbats, and missiles of all kinds were hurled into and through the car windows," through which the boys could plainly see the soldiers. Somehow the teamsters drove the horses through that dense crowd at break-neck speed. The mob followed "like an army of howling wolves."
Wardwell and his friend looked back toward the station, where another group of Yankees-these on foot-were turning onto Pratt Street. Men from the mob hurled themselves into the ranks, trying to seize a rifle. From the upper stories came "great lumps of coal, stone jars, bottles, pitchers, dishes, and every conceivable form of weapon that could be made available." many in the ranks were hit.
At Marsh Market the crowd was so thick the troops could not move. The officer in charge mounted a pile of stones and shouted: "Men of Baltimore, we have no quarrel with you. We only ask the right of transit through your city to obey our orders." A heavy piece of wood struck him on the head, and his men dragged him into the ranks.
But that speech changed Wardwell's life. "Young as I was I felt the officer's appeal was right, these soldiers were not to blame, they were but obeying orders, . . . They must go forward. I began to feel a sympathy for them, and their bleeding faces and hands awoke pity; . . . Their gallant bearing showing no fear of the angry mob, or attempt to use their weapons aroused my admiration."
Wardwell pushed his way up to a Yankee sergeant and offered to carry the rifle of a man who'd fallen. "Go way, or I'll run it through you," the sergeant said. Wardwell protested that he was only trying to help. "Are you . . ." the sergeant replied. "Well then, fall in."
Gunshots flashed from the windows. Several more soldiers were hit. At Gay Street, the lead company fired over the mob's heads, showering the crowd with brick fragments. The crowd became bolder. "They won't shoot. They're too afraid of their cowardly necks!"
Reluctantly, the stricken officer gave the order to fire. The crowd was so close the soldiers could barely aim their rifles, but when they did the mob couldn't get back in time.
"How many were killed and wounded I never knew," Wardwell remembered much later. "My brain was in a whirl, I saw dozens of men lying on the street and curbs, as we ran by, and I heard the shrieks and groans of many more." a soldier named parsons told him, "don't be scared, we will soon join the rest of the regiment and then it will be all right." Wardwell clung to his arm.
When they reached Camden Station, and safety, Wardwell didn't know what to do. "I did not want to go away with the troops and yet I feared to sneak out." he was a tall boy, almost a man. He got on the train, and parsons gave him a seat by the window. Then parsons pulled off Wardwell's old black slouch hat and put a blue soldier's cap on his head. "he also gave me a drink out of his canteen," Wardwell remembered. "It tasted very good indeed, being rum and molasses." Wardwell sat back in his seat as the train pulled out for Washington. Without knowing quite how it had happened, he was off to war as a member of the 6th Massachusetts Volunteer Militia. That night he and his company would go to sleep on the floor of the House of Representatives. It was all too much for a boy not yet sixteen.
He never saw his friend, Henry Cook, again. And it would be four long, terrible years before Baltimore once again knew peace.
-2002 Maryland Historical Society
Father: Simon Willard Wardwell b: 15 FEB 1813 in Andover, Essex, Massachusetts
Mother: Matilda Ann Ackland b: 22 APR 1818 in Baltimore, Baltimore, Maryland
Josephine Aberilla Robinson b: MAY 1851 in Maryland
18 JUN 1867
in Oakland, Maryland 1
- Edith Arberilla Wardwell b: 07 NOV 1868 in Baltimore, Baltimore, Maryland
- Clifton Robinson Wardwell b: 10 DEC 1874 in Baltimore, Baltimore, Maryland
- John Stanley Wardwell b: 1873 in Washington, District of Columbia
- Egbert Wardwell b: 08 DEC 1874 in Baltimore, Baltimore, Maryland
- Estelle Wardwell b: 13 AUG 1876 in Maryland
- Helen Wardwell b: 16 AUG 1877 in Maryland
- Mabel Vinton Wardwell b: 1879 in Maryland
- Ernestine Wardwell b: MAY 1881 in Maryland
- Simon Willard Wardwell b: 24 MAR 1883 in Oakland, Maryland
Ella M. Parker b: 22 NOV 1870 in Virginia
- Hilliare Bell Powell Wardwell b: 03 DEC 1905 in Harborton, Accomack, Virginia
- Druscilla Elaine Wardwell b: 11 JAN 1908 in Maryland
- Title: Samuel Wardwell of Andover & A Line of his Descendants-Stuart Byles & Marjorie Wardwell Otten
Source Medium: Book
- Title: William Wardwell of Andover With an Informal Collection of His Descendants through the 8th Generation, Majorie Wardwell Otten 2002
Source Medium: Book
- Title: 1910 United States Census
Source Medium: Book