In the following essay by Chuck Shoemake, we learn about the wretched conditions at Camp Morton, Indiana’s federal Civil War prisoner of war camp. In the course of telling the story, Chuck also discusses eight or more former members of the pro-Union guerrilla band headed by Newt Knight of Jones County, Mississippi, who spent the final year of the war imprisoned at Camp Morton. A striking monument dedicated to the memory of Confederate soldiers who suffered and died there does not mention, however, that Southern Unionists were among them, likely because the memory that such men existed had largely been buried.
Like the vast majority of Confederate monuments, Camp Morton’s was built in the early twentieth century, during an era in which national leaders, in the name of “reconciling” the nation, introduced the “Lost Cause” version of Civil War history that insisted that Confederate secession from the Union was a means of preserving states’ rights, rather than the amply-documented intention of preserving slavery. These same Lost Cause narratives whitewashed the experiences of slaves, justified violent suppression of freed people, and dismissed Southern white Unionists (when not ignoring them altogether) as ignorant, lawless poor whites. The accompanying proliferation of monuments during the early twentieth century literally etched in stone this Lost Cause version of Civil War history.
Still, not all Civil War monuments are offensive, or at least they need not be. Some, as the following article demonstrates, preserve the memory of ordinary soldiers who died in a war not of their making. —-Vikki Bynum
Camp Morton: “A Black and Damning Trail”
By Chuck Shoemake
The words etched in granite on a monument in Indianapolis pay solemn tribute to Confederate prisoners of war—some with unique ties to Jones County—who died while incarcerated at Camp Morton during the Civil War. A monument to the men erected in 1912 includes the names of at least 173 prisoners who were members of Mississippi units. Four were soldiers from the 7th Battalion Mississippi Infantry, including Alfred Britt and Nelson Cooley, J. H. F. Harper, and Allen J. Bodie.
Although the monument is dedicated to Confederate soldiers, among those who survived time at Camp Morton were eight members of the anti-Confederate Guerrilla band known as the Knight Company of the infamous “Free State of Jones.“
Merida Coats, James M. Collins, Simeon Collins, James Eulin, Drew Gilbert, Martin Valentine, and Patrick and William M. Welch were captured at Kennesaw Mountain during General William T. Sherman’s Atlanta Campaign. They too were soldiers in Mississippi’s 7th Battalion after being forced to return to the Confederate Army and fight the Yankees after deserting their posts, taking to the swamps, and proclaiming loyalty to the United States.
The leader of the Knight Company was Newton Knight, a farmer, soldier and Southern Unionist. From late 1863 to 1865, the Knight band allegedly fought as many as fourteen skirmishes with Confederate forces. Authorities received reports that deserters had captured Ellisville and raised the Union flag over the Jones County courthouse. By early spring of 1864, the Confederate government in Jones County had been effectively overthrown. On July 12 of that year, the Natchez Courier reported that Jones County had declared its independence and seceded from the Confederacy.
Determined to end the Mississippi insurrection, Confederate authorities sent two regiments, the first commanded by Col. Henry Maury, the second by Col. Robert Lowry, into Jones County in March and April of 1864. The Lowry raid delivered a devastating blow to the Knight Band, executing ten deserters, including Newt’s cousin Benjamin Franklin Knight, and capturing Simeon Collins and several other members of the band. The captured men were forced back into the Confederate army, while many other members escaped south to New Orleans where they joined the Union Army. What was left of the Knight Company remained a potent force in Jones County, fighting its last skirmish at Sal’s Battery on January 10, 1865, and fending off a combined force of Confederate cavalry and infantry.
After being forced back into the army, the Knight Company men captured by Col. Lowry joined other Jones Countians of the 7th Battalion at Kennesaw, Georgia, where they soon engaged in the heaviest fighting they had yet endured. “The shot and shell tore through the timber, cutting down trees and large branches. It was a terrific fire, and lasted until dark” (Hess, Kennesaw Mountain p. 38).
At the break of dawn on July 3, 1864, the same day that Simeon Collins and his compatriots were now captured by Union forces, Confederate troops withdrew from Kennesaw Mountain and retreated toward Marietta and Atlanta. In addition to several Knight Band members, others from Jones County who were sent to Camp Morton included William Bryan Valentine, also captured at Kennesaw on July 3, and Jesse and Francis M. Herrington, captured near Marietta, Georgia, on June 19, 1864. Interestingly, Herrington was allowed to join the U.S. army in March of the following year. Perhaps, like Jones Countian Wilson L. Jones, he managed to convince authorities of his loyalty. Jones’s military records note that his Union captors believed Jones when he claimed to have been “forced to enlist in Rebel Army to avoid conscript, and deserted to avail himself of Amnesty Proclamation, etc.” There is evidence that a number of Knight Band members made the same claim after being captured by Yankees, but only Wilson Jones and Francis Herrington appear to have been freed on condition of joining the Union army (Compiled Military Records, 7th Battalion, Mississippi Infantry).
Camp Morton, named for Indiana Governor Oliver Morton, was located just north of Indianapolis, Indiana. Its many uses during the Civil War included a Union military training ground, Confederate prisoner of war camp, and a place for detention of Union soldiers on parole. In the early days of the war there was little organization for handling prisoners by either the North or the South. Expecting the war to be of short duration, there were no attempts by either side to detain captured soldiers. They were released to return home after being paroled on oath not to return to the field of combat. But as the war dragged on, that would all change.
Prior to the war, the 36 acre site served as the fairgrounds for the Indiana State Fair. With its establishment, Camp Morton was initially used as a military training ground with the first Union troops arriving at the camp in April 1861. After the fall of Fort Donelson and Fort Henry, the site was adapted for use as a prisoner of war camp with the intention of accommodating only infirm and injured prisoners. Over time, however, it became one of over 150 prisoner of war camps, and the third largest in the North. More than 1,616 Confederate soldiers would die within the confines of its walls.
Considered during its time to be one of the best Northern prison camps, the real truth about Camp Morton is that it was a place of pain and suffering where Southern soldiers struggled to survive.
In principal, as stated by Montgomery Meigs, U.S. Quartermaster General, “prisoners of war are entitled to proper accommodations, and to courteous and respectful treatment” (Gillispie, Andersonvilles of the North p.74). In reality, prisoners were poorly clothed, ill fed, and inadequately sheltered. Unused to the northern climates, and weakened from recent battles and life in the field, many of the prisoners fell ill, and many died.
The first Confederate prisoners arrived by train on February 22, 1862, forlorn, bedraggled and “as nearly dead as alive.” On March 4, 1862, the Indianapolis Journal reported that “of the sick prisoners at the military prison and hospitals in this city, the greater proportion are Mississippians. Many are under eighteen years of age, and the large majority are persons of feeble constitution.” It was a rarity to find any of the men dressed in anything resembling a uniform. Few had blankets and it was more common to see them with squares of carpet draped about their shoulders. Fortunately for the prisoners, Colonel Richard Owen, an experienced soldier and able administrator, was appointed the first commandant of the camp and brought to his position the qualities of strength, discipline, gentleness and sympathy. Having to formulate his own rules, which virtually established self-government among the prisoners, he handled the situation skillfully. After a general prisoner exchange in August 1862, the camp was all but emptied. Among a crowd of spectators, 1,268 prisoners departed Indianapolis for home. Life for the Confederate prisoners under Colonel Owen had been tolerable, but that would soon become a distant memory.
By January 1863, Camp Morton was again functioning as a prison, leaving the best period in the past. After a series of short term (and largely ineffectual) commandants, Colonel Ambrose A. Stevens was placed in the position of running the camp. Although well-intentioned, Stevens lacked the skills of Colonel Owen, and conditions in camp steadily worsened. The battles of Arkansas Post and Stones River near Murfreesboro resulted in the capture of thousands of Confederate soldiers. Their defeat at Port Hudson, Louisiana would again swell the ranks of the camp, contributing to an already overcrowded situation. By December 1863 the camp’s prison population had grown to over 3,300, with 91 deaths recorded that month.
Though Camp Morton’s buildings were “much dilapidated and sadly in need of repairs,” little time or money was spent on improvements. The barracks’ lacked floors, creating a damp and dirty environment, and ventilation depended on the state of disrepair. From 1863 to 1865, inspectors’ complaints and recommendations went unheeded.
The winter of 1863-1864 was bitterly cold, with temperatures falling as low as 20 degrees below zero. As a result, prisoner deaths that winter exceeded 263. John A. Wythe, a young private in the Alabama cavalry, wrote that “there were wide cracks, through which the winds whistled and the rain and snow beat in upon us,” (Hall, Den of Misery, p. 59). Clothing received by prisoners, often delayed and condemned by government inspectors, failed to meet their needs, especially during the harsh Indiana winters. Although the unusual cold continued into the spring, conditions in camp improved with the arrival of warmer weather, resulting in a noticeable drop in illness and deaths.
On October 22, 1863, Medical Inspector August M. Clark filed a distressing report on the deplorable conditions he found in the camps medical facilities: “Condition of men—in hospital, miserable. Hospital buildings—two, one dilapidated and utterly unfit for use. Hospital discipline—none to speak of. Hospital diet and cooking—very little if any attention paid by officers. State of surgical instruments—none in hospital. State of hospital records—carelessly kept. Medical attendance—virtually none. Nursing—by prisoners. Medical officer—Acting Assistant Surgeon Funkhouser. This officer is utterly unfit for the post he holds” (Winslow and Moore, Camp Morton, p. 93).
Though Funkhouser claimed “it is no fault of mine,” the report, coupled with the camp’s overcrowded and unsanitary conditions, led to his replacement by Dr. W. A. Johnson. With Johnson’s appointment, there was reason to hope, and significant improvements in medical conditions were underway by the end of 1863.
Inspector Clark’s report also revealed deplorable conditions throughout the camp. Latrines, no more than open pits, went unattended until filled to capacity. Drainage ditches became trash pits; barracks were found to be filthy and overcrowded. At the end of January 1864, Clark again visited the camp and submitted his findings, commending Stevens’s for striving to remedy the situation. Though not exactly a resounding endorsement, Inspector Clark stated that “the present commandant is rapidly improving the condition of the camp.” But by no means was Clark suggesting that Stevens and Johnson had performed a miraculous transformation. Substandard living quarters and unsanitary conditions throughout the camp continued to be a problem and would remain so until the end of the war.
Rations, deemed adequate by camp officials, were at times lacking in quantity. Vegetables, with the exception of potatoes, were a small part of the prisoner’s diet and fruit was not provided at all, making the resulting outbreaks of scurvy inevitable. The daily ration was three quarters of a pound of bacon or beef, wheat bread, hominy, coffee, tea, sugar, vinegar, salt, pepper, potatoes and molasses. The food was of good quality with each man cooking for himself or in small groups. To “protect” their ration, men often ate the entire day’s allotment in a single sitting.
Reform measures, taken to reduce wasted food and fuel, included the installation of huge kettles called “farmers boilers,” that cooked 30 to 120 gallons of stew at a time. A large oven for baking up to 7,000 loaves of bread a day was constructed within the prison. A proposed reduction of rations, approved by Congress and imposed on Union soldiers as well, was implemented to further reduce waste. While molasses disappeared completely, bread was reduced from 18 to 16 ounces a day, potatoes from 30 pounds to 15 pounds per hundred men, and the salt portion lessened. Sugar and coffee were withheld from all but the sick and wounded. The reduction of salt and potatoes had detrimental effects.
Devotion to freedom, fed by sheer determination, led to frequent escape attempts, though they were seldom successful. Punishment for such acts ranged from a reduction of rations, already at times meager, to hard labor or hanging by the thumbs. A search conducted after a tunnel escape in March 1864 uncovered four additional tunnels in progress, and despite elaborate precautions, at least twelve more tunnels were discovered soon after. On November 14, 1864, a spectacular escape attempt began when 50 to 60 prisoners rushed the high board fence on the camps’ perimeter, surprising the guards who fired few shots. The attempt proved successful for 31 of the men who were able to scale the fence and disappear outside of the walls. They were never recaptured and may have found shelter with Confederate sympathizers.
By July 1864 the prisoner population had reached 4,999. Overwhelmed by the growing numbers, camp authorities found it difficult to cope. Combined with overcrowded barracks and poor sanitation, the oppressive July heat precipitated the spread of diseases such as pneumonia, malarial fevers, cholera, dysentery and smallpox. Thomas Spotswood, an Alabama cavalryman, would recall that “men died constantly, seemingly without cause. They would appear less cheerful and less interested in life, and next morning, when summoned to roll-call, would be found dead” (Hall, Den of Misery, p. 87).
The fall and winter of 1864 brought marked improvements to the camp. Though the population remained high, overcrowding was eased by the enlargement of the camp. Repairs were made to the barracks and new hospital facilities were constructed. Clothing and shoe shortages were remedied and vegetables were issued in greater quantity. The latrines were better attended, new drainage ditches were dug, and the prisoners were put to work policing the grounds. Camp Morton’s local inspector, Lt. J. W. Davidson, reported that “the general condition of both prison and prisoners is being improved each day in the way of cleanliness.”
On August 18, 1864, General Grant wrote to General Butler, Union Exchange Agent, that “it is hard on our men held in Southern prisons not to exchange them, but it’s humanity to those left in the ranks to fight our battles. Every man we hold, when released on parole or otherwise, becomes an active soldier against us at once either directly or indirectly. If we commence a system of exchange which liberates all prisoners taken, we will have to fight on,” (Exchange of Prisoners in the Civil War—Civil War Home). But Grant relented and on the October 15 he began the business of exchange. During the final months of the war, from February to March, over 2,000 prisoners were paroled in a prisoner exchange. Many of those remaining were discharged with Lee’s surrender on April 9.
On May 18, 1865, another 600 were released, among them former Knight Company guerrilla Simeon Collins, who would die soon after. The final prisoners were released on June 12, 1865. With their departure, a reporter for the Indianapolis Journal wrote “War is a hard thing and it leaves a black and damning trail.” Mitchell Houghton, a camp survivor, recalled that “it was a ragged, emaciated lot of men, spiritless and weak from long confinement and ill treatment that once more entered Dixie” (Hall, Den of Misery, p. 85).
Approximately 1,700 prisoners died between 1862 and 1865 while incarcerated at Camp Morton. The death rate ran close to 20% of those imprisoned, with estimates of at least 9,000 prisoners having passed through the gates during its’ 25 months of operation. Local newspapers regularly printed the names of prisoners who died, though often they were listed as “unknown.” Their wooden coffins were placed in trenches in City Cemetery, later to be renamed Greenlawn Cemetery. The original gravesites were marked with wooden headboards bearing identification numbers that time would soon erase. Some remains were exhumed and returned to family members.
Area construction in the 1870s necessitated the removal and reinternment of the remains in a mass grave. In 1931 the remains from the Confederate gravesite were again moved to a mass grave in Crown Hill Cemetery in Indianapolis. The site would become known as Confederate Mound. Ten bronze plaques and monuments with the names of 1,616 men who died now mark the gravesite.
After the war the camp was returned to the City and again used as the Indiana State Fairgrounds. Turn of the century rezoning permitted construction of residential housing at the former camp, an area now known as the Herron-Morton Place neighborhood. The monument erected in 1912 to honor the Confederate dead at Greenlawn was moved to Garfield Park in 1928. A small playground, where you can now hear the laughter of children, endures where the entrance to the camp once stood. A simple stone monument was placed by students and teachers of Indianapolis Public School 45 in 1916 and the brief inscription, Camp Morton 1861-1865 Erected by School Forty-Five 1916, serves as the camp’s epitaph. The only other tribute on the grounds of the former camp is a plaque erected by the Indiana Civil War Centennial Commission in 1962. Both can be found in the playground on Alabama Street.
On June 14, 1865 the Indianapolis Journal reported that “yesterday, the last remnant of the rebel prisoners confined in Camp Morton were released. In our heart there is no bitterness of feeling against them; and we are glad, without qualification, that they were free once more.”
Only the end of the war stopped the suffering and hardship of soldiers held as prisoners of war, and the subject is still an emotionally charged issue today. Medical practices, quarters, sanitation, rations, clothing, every aspect of prison life, in both the North and the South, is still debated. “Intent and malice were never intended,” said James Robertson, a history professor at Virginia Tech. But was everything that was humanly possible done to ease the pain and suffering of the men incarcerated in prisoner of war camps? The times, knowledge, resources, and fortitude of those in charge hold the answer to that question.
On a recent Friday morning, my wife and I visited areas of Indianapolis connected to Camp Morton. We were pleased to find the memories of soldiers who passed through the camp, both Union and Confederate, still very much alive.
At the Confederate monument located in Garfield Park, we met a man who appeared deep in thought as he sat on a bench located in front of the monument. The name of his 2nd great grandfather, a Confederate POW who had died at Camp Morton, he told us, was inscribed on it. We also visited the Herron Morton Historic District, an area where many beautiful turn-of-the-century homes are in various stages of rehabilitation. Here, we encountered a man who had only recently moved to Indianapolis with his family. He shared with us that his 2nd great grandfather had trained at the camp as a young Union soldier. Finally, we visited Confederate Mound in Crown Hill Cemetery, a well maintained and beautiful setting befitting the men honored there. Flowers had recently been placed on several of the markers.
Because I too have a distant relative, Alfred Britt, who died while imprisoned in Camp Morton, researching the camp’s history has brought me full circle with my own history, enriching my life in the process.
James M. Gillispie, Andersonvilles of the North
Winslow & Moore, Camp Morton
James R. Hall, Den of Misery
Victoria E. Bynum, The Free State of Jones.
Sally Jenkins and John Stauffer, The State of Jones.
Categories: The Free State of Jones
Nice work Chuck…..another step towards that book I see on the horizon? I do not share your enthusiasm for history as it pertains to our family, but truly admire your efforts in tracing our ancestry. I guess that is because I have spent my life looking down the road as opposed to looking back. Maybe that is why I can see a book on the horizon for you. Stay with it. Cheers……Ron. By the way, my alma mater honors their Confederate fallen every year as having died “on the field of honor”; a rationalization in the vein of the “lost cause” scenario.
Thanks big brother…you’ve always been very supportive of my efforts and I appreciate it…and you know what they say…you can’t know where you’re going until you know where you have been!
This is an excellent article Chuck. I hope you do write a book.
Thanks Kim…I enjoy the research and I love the stories.
The following article ran in the Indianapolis Star on Saturday, August 19, 2017:
INDIANAPOLIS, Ind. — IMPD has arrested a 30-year-old man for allegedly vandalizing the Confederate monument in Garfield Park. Following an Indianapolis Star article earlier this week, some city leaders have called for a discussion on whether the monument’s current spot is really the best place for it. The memorial honors around 1,600 Confederate soldiers and sailors who died while POWs at Camp Morton in Indianapolis during the Civil War. The remains of those soldiers are actually buried at Crown Hill Cemetery. There’s no word yet on how much damage was caused during the incident Saturday afternoon.
Similar stories are being circulated by the Associated Press. I’m speechless.
The citizens of this great nation appear to be at an impasse as to where to place their loyalties; “cause ” or “constitution “, “self” or “nation.” And, our current leadership is mired in ego and political ignorance so there are no viable solutions living at 1600 Pennsylvania Ave.
To illustrate the conundrum people face, one only has to journey south from Charlottesville to Lexington and The Virginia Military Institute. Each year, the corps of cadets celebrates the Battle of New Market, the Civil War Battle in which VMI was ordered to participate. During the ceremony, the names of the cadets killed in this battle, 7 I believe, are called out and someone within the ranks responds “Died on the field of honor.” The conundrum is “how can there be honor in treason?” Instead of prosecuting the traitors, Lincoln sent the defeated rebels home to rebuild and home they went carrying a grudge against all things “government” and which has been perpetuated to this very day. As long as this grand act of treason, the Civil War, is celebrated, our country will remain divided and “cause” will have won out over “constitution”; “self” over “nation.” Having spent 26 years of my life defending the constitution, I find this hard to swallow.
Well said, Ron, and I couldn’t agree more. The monument was erected to mark the spot where those men who died while incarcerated at Camp Morton are buried. The inscription reads “Erected by the United States to Mark the Burial Place of 1616 Confederate Soldiers and Sailors Who Died Here While Prisoner of War and Whose Graves Cannot Now be Identified”. Its intention is not to honor the treasonous act of the Civil War. It is in essence a headstone. Many of the names on the monument are of men who were captured and subsequently sent to Camp Morton, men who were in the Confederate States Army not by choice but forced by conscription. Some had deserted “the cause” only to be forced to return to the Army at the threat of death. A man will do crazy things when faced with that choice.
A portrait of Andrew Jackson, a slave owner and known as the Indian Killer, graces the twenty dollar bill along with the quote “In God We Trust”. He waged genocide against indigenous peoples and legalized ethnic cleansing by signing the Indian Removal Act. Having their lands stolen by the United States Government, more than 4,000 Cherokee perished on their way west under this act. He was also a racist who chased fugitive slaves in Spanish Florida with the intent of returning them to their “owners”. So do we run our twenty dollar bills through the shredder? Refuse to spend them?
The damage done to the monument in Garfield Park was the result of a very stupid act committed by a person of dubious intelligence. Is this not a case of “self” over “nation”? To me it is no less criminal than someone who would damage the headstone of our parents who are buried in Arlington National Cemetery. Put the flags and statues in museums where they belong…but where do we draw the line?
I sorry this monument was defaced. It is indeed a headstone, much like those we see at Gettysburg and other battlefields. I am certainly not a Civil War expert like my cousin Chuck, but I admit I’m forever perplexed at the reactions the American public has toward Confederate soldiers who had originally served in the US military or were educated at West Point versus other US soldiers in different wars. President Trump recently described Bowe Bergdahl as a “dirty rotten traitor.” I imagine most of the pro General Lee monument protestors would agree with him. It is also true that most historians feel the presence of the West Point educated Confederate officers probably extended the Civil War greatly, contributing enormously to the overall loss of life.
“It can be said that the West Point graduates who were officers in the Union Army during Civil War and “filtered to the top” were responsible for the organisation, administration and generally leading the army that was victorious. On the other hand, the 306 West Point graduates that joined the Confederate cause were mostly responsible for the War being turned into the costliest conflict in which the United States has ever been involved. Without their contribution the Confederacy could never have fielded a force of the calibre of the Army of Northern Virginia.” http://www.americancivilwar.asn.au/meet/2002_10_mtg_westpt_classmates_enemies.pdf
I agree so much about Andrew Jackson. Where do we draw the line about monuments to Confederate “heroes”? There is no simple answer of course, but I find myself most sympathetic to the descendants of slaves and how a young black child feels walking past these monuments every day.
I’m sorry to learn of the vandalism to the monument, Chuck, though not surprised. You, Ron, and Jan all make good points about the monument and this point we’ve reached in assessing their origins and what should be done to address the white supremacist context in which most were erected.
I’ll only add that I find it unfortunate that the monument was moved away from the Confederate cemetery to a public park (Garfield) in 1928—a time of great white supremacist zeal and KKK power. Perhaps it would be good idea now to move it to the Crown Hill Confederate cemetery that replaced the original cemetery.
In any case, I’d like to see more accurate historical context added with accompanying markers: for example, recognition that a number of men buried there were Southern white Unionists and slaves who were forced to serve the Confederate Army.
INDIANAPOLIS (WTHR) — Indianapolis Mayor Joe Hogsett has announced a monument memorializing Confederate prisoners of war will be removed from Garfield Park.
“We must name these instances of discrimination and never forget our past – but we should not honor them,” Hogsett said in a statement.
Additionally: “The monument was originally at Greenlawn Cemetery, commissioned in 1912. It was a grave marker for Confederate soldiers who died while at Camp Morton — a Union prison in Indianapolis.
It was moved to the park in 1928 after public officials — who were active in the KKK — wanted to make the monument more visible.
“Whatever original purpose this grave marker might once have had, for far too long it has served as nothing more than a painful reminder of our state’s horrific embrace of the Ku Klux Klan a century ago,” Hosett said.
Hogsett said it would be dismantled in the coming days.
“For some time, we have urged that this grave monument belongs in a museum, not in a park, but no organization has stepped forward to assume that responsibility. Time is up, and this grave marker will come down,” Hogsett said.
The city approved a measure in 2017 to remove the monument once funding was secured. The city expects the removal to cost between $50,000 and $100,000 and is identifying a financial source for it.”
A cousin remarked that we could probably get some volunteers together and accomplish the task for a lot less!
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Thanks for keeping us updated on this, Chuck. I agree with Mayor Hogsett—the monument belongs in a museum with a lengthy historical explanation of its connection to the KKK—not in a city park.
Hello, I am an art student working on a project that incorporates found objects. I purchased a Civil War soldier stencil that reads E. Read. I have tracked Private E. Read to Camp Morton, Captured Aug 20, 1862, near Mammoth Cave. He was part of Captain R.A. Thompson’s Kentucky Cavalry. Have come to a dead end. I wondered if he survived the camp, or if his name might have been listed on the monument. Haven’t been able to find a list of names. Thanks for any information you might have or other resources to check.
Hello Leslie. I too am unable to locate a comprehensive and complete list of names on-line of those soldiers that did not survive their incarceration at Camp Morton. The “grave marker” with a complete list of names that was originally erected in Greenlawn Cemetery and later moved to Garfield Park was removed from the park in June 2020 and taken to and undisclosed location. The memorial located at Confederate Mound in Crown Hill Cemetery in Indianapolis lists the names of those who died on 10 bronze plaques. It is possible that the administrative office at Crown Hill could be of assistance (317) 925-3800. You can also contact them online at https://www.dignitymemorial.com/contact-us. There is an on-line form you can complete to request information. If you chose to follow this route please let me know if they were able to assist. It stands to reason if the name of E. Read does not appear on the plaques that he did indeed survive. Good luck on your search. As a side note, the memorial plaques at Confederate Mound were “tarred and Feathered”, also in June 2020. Since they are located in the National Cemetery section of Crown Hill the VA is investigating as it is a Federal crime to deface Federal property.
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Thank you so much for providing Leslie with such valuable information regarding her question about “E. Read.” I was hoping you would do so and was about to contact you to make sure you saw it.
Thanks so much for answering by request, and for all of the additional information. I did not find E. Read on the list referenced below, (1996 book) so perhaps he did survive the camp. I have hit a bit of a dead end for now in regard to Private Read, but perhaps some additional information in the Crown Hill Resources you so graciously shared.
Tennessee Confederate Soldiers buried in Crown Hill Cemetery Indianapolis List (sorry not sure how to correctly insert a link through this platform). http://files.usgwarchives.net/tn/statewide/cemeteries/mort001a.txt
Reference: “Tennessee Confederate Prisoners at Camp Morton” by Don Allen. Softback 8
l/2 x 11, 135 pp., complete name index, cl996. Purchase from Don Allen, 225
Orchard Point, Zionsville, IN 46077, $23 postpaid.
Thanks again for your help and expertise. All the best to you,
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Leslie, If you have any additional information on E Read ie approximate date of birth and/or birthplace I may possibly be able to find information on Ancestry. I did a cursory search using abt 1841 as a date of birth an Kentucky as a place of birth and several E Reads appeared. Chuck
Hi Chuck, Thanks so much for your additional support in my search for E. Read. I don’t have any additional information on birthplace. My search started with a found (San Antonio, Tx) brass stencil, which led me to national archives and civil war records. There was only one E. Read listed, which led me to Fold 3 Ancestry where I located E. Read’s digitized Muster Card, I think that is what is, but might be a card associated with Camp Morton. There are several “Card numbers” listed on the card, not sure what they might identify. Also, the date of Capture was August 20, 1862, with additional information on the capture Near Mammoth Cave. Card identifies “Roll of Prisoners of War and Camp Morton: Rank Private, Guerrilla Ranger, Capt. R.A. Thompson’s Kentucky Cavalry. Thompson’s Calvary research suggests that many in this unit were from Kentucky, so Kentucky is just a guess on birthplace.
Card Numbers on Digitized Card:
46255040 (second to the last zero is questionable)
Thanks again for your interest and offer to help in my search,
Hi Vikki, My brother Ron received notification of Leslie’s inquiry and he passed it along to me. It was a good follow up for me to learn of the status of the Garfield Park memorial. And I was not aware of the vandalism to the Confederate Mound Memorial in Crown Hill Cemetery. Hope all is well! Chuck