It might have seemed like a storybook ending. Just before Christmas in 1916, after fifty years missing, when friends and family had given him up for dead, Nicholas J. Codori returned to Gettysburg. The town’s wayward native son, relatives of which were still living in town or nearby, had come home. But this is not a Hallmark movie nor a fairy tale ending. Seven weeks later, Nicholas was dead, and the town newspapers published obituaries that could speculate on what had happened to Nicholas the wanderer.

Early Life and Family Background

Nicholas John (“Nicholas Ignatius”) Codori was born in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania in 1835 to George J. Codori and Regina (Wallberger) Codori. He was part of the prominent Codori family of Gettysburg – his uncle, Nicholas Codori (1809–1878), owned the famous Codori farm on the Emmitsburg Road (a key landmark during the Battle of Gettysburg). Nicholas J.’s father, George Codori (the brother of the farm owner), was a respected Gettysburg citizen who lived on West Middle Street. Tragically, George and Regina Codori died just one month apart in 1865, an event the local press called “most pathetic.”

In July 1855, 20-year-old Nicholas J. Codori married Susan Mathilda Stormbach (Stambaugh) at the Sacred Heart Catholic Church (Conewago Chapel). The young couple settled in Gettysburg and started a family. Over the next decade, they had four children – including at least three sons. One son, George Joseph Codori, was born in 1853 and later became a longtime Gettysburg resident. Susan was left to raise these children largely on her own in the coming years, as Nicholas’s life took a dramatic turn during and after the Civil War.

Civil War Service

When the Civil War broke out, Nicholas J. Codori volunteered to fight for the Union. In fact, he served in multiple Union Army units over the course of the war:

• 2nd Pennsylvania Infantry (3-month enlistment) – Codori enlisted as a private in Company E of the 2nd Pennsylvania Volunteers on April 20, 1861, just days after the war began, and mustered out with his company on July 24, 1861. This was a short-term enlistment at the war’s outset, and he returned home after the regiment’s service in 1861.
• 165th Pennsylvania Infantry (Drafted Militia, 9-months) – In late 1862, Nicholas was drafted or enlisted again. The 165th Pennsylvania was organized in November 1862 and served in the Union Army for nine months. Codori served until the regiment mustered out on July 28, 1863. (His discharge from the 165th in July 1863 is preserved in local archives.) Notably, this service kept him away from Gettysburg during the July 1863 Battle of Gettysburg – he was in the army elsewhere at that time and returned home shortly after the battle.
• 210th Pennsylvania Infantry – In the final year of the war, Codori was called to service again. He joined Company I of the 210th Pennsylvania as a private on September 10, 1864. However, after just 12 days, he deserted on September 22, 1864. Military records confirm “Codori, Nicholas – Private – Enlisted Sept 10, 1864 – Deserted Sept 22, 1864.” This act of desertion occurred during the intense campaigns of late 1864, and it possibly marked a turning point in his life.

In summary, Nicholas J. Codori honorably served in 1861 and 1862–63, but in 1864 he failed to complete his service. His desertion in 1864 was likely a decisive factor in what came next – it severed his ties with the army and foreshadowed his abandonment of his family and hometown. After “serving his country during the Civil War, in the 165th, 210th and 2nd Pennsylvania Regiments, he became a wanderer” as one account put it.

The 50-Year Disappearance

Not long after his desertion, Nicholas J. Codori vanished from Gettysburg, leaving behind his wife and four young children. In the mid-1860s, he simply did not return home – beginning an absence that would last half a century. Family lore and local history attest that he “ran off for 50 years, leaving his wife with four children to raise.” According to the family, the inciting incident may have been his theft of a carriage . . . or maybe he used the carriage to get out of town. Either way, a warrant for debt unpaid and theft was sworn out.

This abandonment was a scandal in the community and within the large Codori family. In fact, Nicholas earned a dark nickname – “Devil Nick” – apparently because of his devil-may-care desertion of his responsibilities. (He was also known by the more benign nickname “Sonny” in some circles, but “Devil Nick” is the moniker that stuck in local memory due to his infamous disappearance.)

Why did he disappear? Contemporary records do not state Nicholas’s own reasons, but historians can piece together some likely motives. His desertion from the army suggests he was fleeing the war and possible punishment, and by extension he may have decided to flee the expectations of his old life entirely. Further, his theft of a carriage may have been to flee or it may have been something he was trying to turn into money.

In addition, there are indications he was pursuing a new start: during his decades away, Nicholas remarried (illegally, since he was still married to Susan). He wed a woman named Elizabeth even though no divorce from Susan had ever occurred. In fact, a family researcher later uncovered a marriage certificate showing Nicholas using an alias – the family web site says he went by Charlie McCoy, but the 1874 marriage certificate clearly shows him using the name William Clark – presumably to conceal his identity while marrying Elizabeth during his exile. This suggests that Nicholas wanted to erase his past and avoid detection (both by authorities and by his family). But he successfully erased this marriage also—we find no further mention of William and Elizabeth in archives.

Over those 50 years, Nicholas J. Codori lived a wandering life. Sources say “he lived in a number of places,” moving from place to place across the country. Unfortunately, a detailed itinerary of his travels is not recorded in surviving documents. It is possible he went west after 1864, perhaps drawn by opportunities on the expanding frontier. By the end of his life, we know that his last residence was in Salem, Oregon – literally on the opposite side of the continent from Gettysburg.

He apparently lived under his own name, though he passed himself off as his uncle. An 1888 newspaper article in Oregon includes commentary from Nicholas about a painting of the battle. In it, Nicholas claimed to own the farm at the center of the battle and to have witnessed the battle—none of which is true.

During these years his original family in Pennsylvania heard nothing from him; for all intents and purposes, Nicholas Codori was considered gone forever.

Return to Gettysburg and Final Days

After half a century, “Devil Nick” Codori’s story took a final surprising turn. On December 23, 1915, as an old man of 80, Nicholas suddenly came back to Gettysburg. As one account describes, “Before Christmas, when in his 81st year, the desire to see the old home place possessed him and he returns to Gettysburg Dec. 23rd.” In other words, something stirred Nicholas – perhaps nostalgia or regret – and he made the long journey from Oregon back to his hometown. He arrived in Gettysburg on December 23, 1915, just before Christmas, after 50 years away.

His return caused a buzz in town. Locals were astonished to see the long-lost Codori back again. The Harrisburg Telegraph reported on January 1, 1916 that “Nicholas J. Codori, [of] Salem, Oregon, appeared in Gettysburg last week, and renewed acquaintances with many of his old friends and relatives.” At age 80, Nicholas tried to reconnect with surviving family and acquaintances. Many of his contemporaries had passed on, but some relatives remained (for example, his children were now elderly themselves, and extended family lived in the area). To younger townspeople who only knew of him as a legend, he was almost a stranger in his own hometown. By Christmas 1915, Nicholas Codori was “a stranger in a familiar land,” walking the streets he last saw in the 1860s.

Tragically, Nicholas did not have long to enjoy his homecoming. He was in poor health and deteriorated rapidly upon his return. As one newspaper headline noted, “ABSENT 50 YEARS, RETURNED… Codori failed rapidly… and his death occurred this morning.” Just seven weeks after coming home, Nicholas Codori died on February 9, 1916. He was about 80–81 years old. According to his obituary, he “passed away at the home of a relative in Cumberland Township” (the area just outside Gettysburg). He died essentially penniless and frail. (One source even says he died in the county poorhouse in Cumberland Twp., implying he had no financial resources at the end.) His long odyssey ended where it began – in Gettysburg – albeit under somber circumstances.

Nicholas was buried in Adams County in the Catholic cemetery in Gettysburg where many Codori family members rest. In a final poignant note, his forsaken first wife, Susan, outlived him by about a year. Susan Codori never remarried (Catholic doctrine counsels against divorce); she died in March 1917 in Wilmington, Delaware, where she had been living with one of their children in the last days of her life. She had spent decades as a Civil War widow in all but name, raising their children and then living her later years apart from Nicholas. It is not recorded whether Nicholas and Susan saw each other when he returned (it seems unlikely, given her residence in Delaware and his very brief, bedridden final weeks in Gettysburg). The wounds of his absence may never have fully healed. Even in death, details about Nicholas were mysterious. Nearly all records refer to him as Nicholas J. Codori, but his Find-a-Grave entry calls him Nicholas Ignatius Codori. Some records say the “J” is for John and at least one says it’s for “Junior,” as though he were the junior of his uncle.

Community Reactions and Legacy

Nicholas J. Codori’s life story became a part of Gettysburg’s local lore – a tale of war, scandal, and belated homecoming. Townspeople’s opinions of him were mixed, as reflected in the nicknames and commentary in the press. Older residents remembered him as “Sonny Codori,” perhaps recalling the young man who went off to war. But more prevalent was the nickname “Devil Nick,” which conveyed a sense of censure or notoriety. By abandoning his wife and children and effectively vanishing for decades, Nicholas earned a certain infamy in the community. Calling him “Devil Nick” was a way to express disapproval of his irresponsibility and the pain he caused his family. Even within his own extended family, he was likely spoken of as the black sheep.

When he resurfaced in 1915, many in Gettysburg were astonished. Imagine the curiosity and gossip that must have accompanied the news: an old Civil War veteran turning up after 50 years missing. Newspaper coverage at the time was respectful but frank – referring to him as “the wanderer” and noting his aliases and past. One obituary noted that Nicholas was “better known as ‘Sonny’ Codori and ‘Devil Nick’ Codori”, acknowledging his local reputation. The same obituary called him “the wanderer” who had finally come home only to die shortly after. There is a tone of pity in these accounts – a sense that his life had a tragic arc. The community, while critical of his youthful desertion, also seemed to regard his lonely death with sympathy. After all, he came back an old, ailing man with no fortune, seeking only a last look at his boyhood home.

Over time, the tale of Nicholas J. “Devil Nick” Codori has been remembered in local history circles. It serves as a human-interest footnote to Gettysburg’s Civil War story – illustrating how the war upended lives in unexpected ways. Here was a Gettysburg son who fought for the Union, then couldn’t readjust to post-war life, chose theft and flight over duty, and effectively erased himself from his community for decades. His family suffered in his absence, and townsfolk never forgot the abandonment. Yet, in the end, Gettysburg did accept him back quietly to die in his hometown soil.

Today, researchers and Codori family descendants have pieced together Nicholas’s saga through newspaper archives and family records. His obituary and news clippings survive, ensuring that the details – from his Civil War service to the astonishing 50-year disappearance – are not lost to time. The story of Nicholas J. Codori reminds us that the impacts of the Civil War on families were complex and often painful. Gettysburg may chiefly remember his uncle’s farm on the battlefield, but the saga of “Devil Nick” Codori is an unforgettable chapter in the Codori family history and local lore. As one summary of his life succinctly put it: after fighting in the war, “he became a wanderer” and did not return home for fifty years – a dramatic example of how one man’s life was forever altered by the turmoil of his era.