History tells of an "old Negro" who "sat very coolly on the edge of the pier, smoking a cigar" as Confederate troops marched toward the Columbia-Wrightsville Bridge on June 28, 1863.

The man, possibly a former slave, helped destroy the bridge and stop Confederates from crossing the Susquehanna River and laying waste to Columbia, Lancaster, maybe even Philadelphia.

It changed the course of the Civil War, but no one knew his name — until now.

His identity — and much more local history — was revealed in a "treasure trove" of records donated to the Columbia Historic Preservation Society in May by M&T Bank, which was closing its Columbia branch, CHPS vice president Chris Vera said Monday.

The contents of M&T's basement didn't look like much at first — in part because of a thick layer of heavy black soot.

"Our volunteers went down to dust off all of these records … and came out looking like coal miners," CHPS president Don Haines said.

The records, though stored for many years at the M&T building at Fourth and Locust streets, came originally from the former First National Bank on Locust.

Haines said he was "flabbergasted" by the first thing he saw — a large pencil-and-ink print of the old bank.

The print, prepared by Philadelphia architect J.C. Sidney circa 1870, depicts the ornate building in hues of beige and pale blue, with a nattily dressed banker on the front steps as a pair of pedestrians and a stray dog stroll by.

"I just gasped," Haines said. "I couldn't believe this incredible gift."

Much of the find was mundane.

"It's the transaction history of everyday Columbians, their day-to-day banking business," Haines said.

Vera said more than 700 thick, leather-bound bank ledgers — many weighing 40 pounds each — were stored on about 60 feet of oak shelving.

"None of the books were in any kind of order. There were books jammed behind books," he said. "But what can you say? That's a real piece of history."

Because it contains personal financial records, Vera said, the donation required authorization from the U.S. Department of Homeland Security.

The collection also includes bank notes, checks, stocks and a signature book used to prevent forgeries.

Some items were more surprising.

An oath book, in which U.S. senators swore to uphold the Constitution, contains the signature of Pennsylvania legislator Thomas McKean, who was the last person to sign the Declaration of Independence.

"Don't ask me how they ended up with an oath book," Vera said. "This one dates to the early 1800s, and it was just sitting there in the bank."

There's a letter from James Buchanan — dated 1820, one year before the Lancaster lawyer joined the U.S. House of Representatives and decades before he was President — resolving a debt of $278.20 between Lancaster and Columbia.

There's a letter from Simon Cameron, later the U.S. Secretary of War under Abraham Lincoln, who wrote in 1837 thanking an anonymous "dear sir" for a gift of "superior old wine."

There's even a heavy wooden trash compactor, still filled with cigar butts, paper cups and debris from 1942.

"These were things we never even knew existed," Haines said.

The most exciting discovery to date pertains to the burning of the covered Columbia-Wrightsville Bridge.

"That's a piece of history you just cannot put a price on," Vera said. "Other than newspaper reports, these are the first true accounts of what occurred."

Local railroad engineer W. Robert Crane was charged with demolishing the mile-long bridge, Vera said. He planned to destroy just a 200-foot-long span — enough to prevent the enemy from crossing the river, but repairable.

"Crane picked four guys — the best in the town — to do the job," Vera said.

They were John Q. Denny, John Lockard, Jacob Miller and Jacob Rich. Miller, believed to be a canal worker at the time, was identified as the "old Negro" in the eyewitness account because records appended the word "colored" in parentheses after his name.

Denny's deposition — neatly scribed by a clerk and signed by Denny on blue paper before Justice of the Peace David E. Brundy — was the first Vera found.

"It was in a cardboard box, in a little vault in the basement," he said.

Crane's deposition was discovered last month in a bank ledger. It is on an identical sheet of blue paper and scribed by the same clerk's hand.

"These are incredible details, given just 25 days after the bridge was burned," Vera said. "Columbia wanted to try to get the federal government to pay for the damages incurred, so they took down the depositions to try and plead their case to Washington."

There's a good chance more will surface, he added.

"There have to be more depositions out there. Maybe they're in the ledgers we still have to go through. One day, another blue letter is going to drop out."

Crane's involvement is a key part of the story, Vera said.

Union soldiers under command of Col. Jacob G. Frick could easily have destroyed the bridge, he said, but by asking civilians to do it, Frick absolved the federal government of blame.

"If Union soldiers had burned the bridge, then the government would have had to pay for it," Vera said.

"Those Columbia residents probably should have gotten something in writing, saying they'd get reimbursed for the bridge, before they lit those fuses."

The explosives failed to do the job, however, and the four men were ordered to light a fire as the Rebel army drew near.

As Denny stated in his deposition, "the explosion failing to blow up or destroy the Bridge as was expected we then under [express] order from Col. Frick set fire to the Bridge. … We then retreated while the rebels entered the West end of the Bridge and endeavored to extinguish the flames and the Bridge was entirely consumed."

The bridge's owners, incorporated as the Columbia Bank & Bridge Co., filed a claim for $157,000, which was the cost of building the bridge in 1834, Vera said. That petition, as well as later efforts to collect for the damages and interest, never led to a payment.

A portion of the basement motherlode is on display at the CHPS museum at 19-21 Second St. Most of the items are in storage, however; Vera said volunteers are still sorting.

"I want to find a letter from Abraham Lincoln, apologizing for the burning of the bridge," Haines said with a laugh. "But I don't think one exists."

The wooden cabinets were removed, restored and are on display at Burning Bridge Antiques Mart, 304 Walnut St.

"They are not for sale," manager Lou Girolami said. "They are pieces of Columbia history, and they are going to be here forever."

Correspondent James Buescher contributed to this report.

tknapp@lnpnews.com