Elmer E. Ellsworth - Death

Death

Ellsworth died shortly after returning to Washington. On May 24, 1861 (the day after Virginia's secession was ratified by referendum), President Lincoln looked out from the White House across the Potomac River, and saw a large Confederate flag prominently displayed over the town of Alexandria, Virginia.

Ellsworth immediately offered to retrieve the flag for Lincoln. He led the 11th New York across the Potomac and into the streets of Alexandria uncontested. He detached some men to take the railroad station, while he led others to secure the telegraph office and get that Confederate flag, which was flying above the Marshall House Inn. Ellsworth and four men went upstairs and cut down the flag. As Ellsworth came downstairs with the flag, the owner, James W. Jackson, killed him with a shotgun blast to the chest. Corporal Francis E. Brownell, of Troy, New York, immediately killed Jackson. Brownell was later awarded a Medal of Honor for his actions.

Lincoln was deeply saddened by his friend's death and ordered an honor guard to bring his friend's body to the White House, where he lay in state in the East Room. Ellsworth was then taken to the City Hall in New York City, where thousands of Union supporters came to see the first man to fall for the Union cause. Ellsworth was then buried in his hometown of Mechanicville, in the Hudson View Cemetery.

Thousands of Union supporters rallied around Ellsworth's cause and enlisted. "Remember Ellsworth" was a patriotic slogan: the 44th New York Volunteer Infantry Regiment called itself the "Ellsworth Avengers", as well as "The People's Ellsworth Regiment."

Read more about this topic:  Elmer E. Ellsworth

Famous quotes containing the word death:

    Of Heaven of Hell I have no power to sing,
    I cannot ease the burden of your fears,
    Or make quick-coming death a little thing,
    Or bring again the pleasure of past years,
    William Morris (1834–1896)

    For in the word death
    There is nothing to grasp; nothing to catch or claim;
    Nothing to adapt the skill of the heart to, skill
    In surviving, for death it cannot survive,
    Only resign the irrecoverable keys.
    The wave falters and drowns. The coulter of joy
    Breaks. The harrow of death
    Depends. And there are thrown up waves.
    Philip Larkin (1922–1986)

    The only way out is the way through, just as you cannot escape from death except by dying. Being unable to write, you must examine in writing this being unable, which becomes for the present—henceforth?—the subject to which you are condemned.
    Howard Nemerov (1920–1991)