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Camp Ford in Tyler, Texas
From Saturday, September 19th, 2009: This morning I got around and went to Camp Ford, located
at Tyler, TX.
It was a beautiful drive as east Texas is much like Louisiana all the way into Georgia if you follow I-20.
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| It has tall pines covering hilly terrain, a softer appearance than West Texas and the dry
arid regions of the southwest. The drive was cool and it was one of those rarified Texas days with enough
clouds to keep from getting hot, but no rain. The area of Texas I have been working has had a lot of rain
lately, almost daily this last few weeks. Very unusual for this area. The locals are ready for it to stop
raining. I have been enjoying the coolness of it all. |
| My reason for going to Camp Ford was because James Monroe Miller, who was my Great-Great-Great
Grandfather was captured at Bayou Fordoche, Louisiana on September 29th, 1863. On his official military papers
it says Sterling’s Farm. He was a private, drummer and fifer of the 19th Iowa. After capture he was marched
west to Tyler, Texas for confinement at Camp Ford. |
Camp Ford was the largest Confederate Prisoner of War camp west of the Mississippi. It was
established in August of 1863 and remained open until May 19th, 1965.
I wanted to make sure our ancestor was on the rolls of the prisoners. I did not know what to expect when I
went to the now Historic Park. The Park is off a main road and as I walked in the serenity vehicles
whizzed by uncaring that history had been made at this place. It has been one hundred and forty-six years
since our ancestor had walked these trails I followed, picking my way among the pools of rain water.
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| It was much like it was when James M. Miller would have first laid eyes on it. It was heavily
wooded, tall pines shielding the hot suns rays from the moist grassy sod. A path strewn with animal debris
and outdoor clutter was difficult to walk on. The lack of funding for the Park has made repairs nonexistent.
Several areas were no longer available to the public to walk through at this time. |
| Words of my Grandmother came to me: “Leaves of three—leave them be,” served me well. As
later I saw signs warning of poison oak and poison ivy and other evils of itchy mishaps into the
bush. |
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| I walked along the allowable paths wondering if my ancestor had huddled in this place, near
a small fire, trying to keep warm while a watery soup bubbled, talking to other prisoners wondering how
the war fared, was it near to being over, or were they ever going to see their loved ones again…to be able
to leave and be free to go home. |
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| I saw the small creek they used. The part of the creek that flowed into the prison yard was
carefully used as drinking only. The area where it flowed out was where they used to wash themselves. It
was probably this little bit of common sense that protected them from passing sickness to each other. Their
latrines were at the farthest part of the camp away from the water. |
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| The area was unwalled, and the Southerners were afraid of escapes so the local farmers came
with their slaves and cut the tall trees, sharpening the points like in the old John Wayne Indian movie's
Forts, and put up the walls. Any Rebel that was of good health and able to fight was off fighting the
Yankees. They mostly had old men and young boys as guard at the camp. |
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| Later as they kept getting more prisoners, and the camp was over crowded, the farmers came
back and actually cut the logs in half and expanded the camp in that manner. At the end of the war when the
camp was abandoned, several of the farmers came to get the logs and used them to rebuild their homes so the
whole camp was carried off. Very little of it remains. The University of Texas Archeology Department came
out and dug in several places to see what they could find out about the history of the camp that
way. |
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| Most of the history of Camp Ford had been told orally, through stories like my Grandma Lytle
used to tell me about James M. Miller: |
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Grandpa Miller used to tell how his clothing had been taken from him and he had to wear a
feed sack for a shirt. His boots were taken and he had to wrap his feet in rags or go barefoot. When one
of them died the men fought over the dead’s clothing or belongings that could be used.
He ate watery soup with an onion or potato or turnip in it. They hunted for rats and fought over a rat as
it was meat and protein. Occasionally the Rebels would let them have some beef.
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And Grandma Lytle would get the rolled old yellowed parchment out that James Monroe Miller
had written when he was in the Civil War and carefully remove the red ribbon that held it in its neat roll. Then
she told me how when she was about 9 years old there was a fire on the old homestead, that of James Monroe
Miller’s up near Turon, Kansas. She was sent down into the cellar to get the old parchment out. She
said she remembered coughing and had to hurry because the smoke was stinging her eyes. But she got into that
old trunk and got that precious roll of yellowed papers held secure by red ribbon and took it to her Mother.
Then some older lady by the name of Aunt Jessie got all huffy with Grandma’s Mother and Aunt Jessie took half
the yellowed papers for her own. This Aunt Jessie said it wasn’t fair that Grandma’s Mother had all those
papers for herself.
And all those years later…there Grandma and I sat reading about how James Monroe Miller wanted his beloved
Nancy to know where he was or what had happened to him if he didn’t survive the Civil War. We read about how
he traipsed down the Yazoo River…was at Vicksburg…heard about Abe Lincoln’s assassination a good month after
it happened…how he was cold or wet…how he missed his love.
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| After I walked the trails where I was allowed to go, I went uptown to the Smith County
Historical Society and Museum. They are the keepers of Camp Ford now and manage the property. At the
Historical Society I met Sam. He was the clerk on duty and quite a history buff when it came to Camp Ford
as well as liking the sound of his own voice. He told me a lot about the history of the Camp. |
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| The records were very poorly kept. The Rebels didn’t see the need to keep accurate records of
the prisoners as paper and pencil were luxuries. Much of the names of those who are known are the work of two
local Tyler natives. A lady librarian and a local lawyer went to the National Archives in Washington DC and
hand copied the names of those they could find as they searched the massive documents for any references to
Camp Ford. This was way before computers. |
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| He had a spread sheet that lists all of the names those two collected, over 5500 names. Our
ancestor, James Monroe Miller, is listed on the register as a prisoner. The dates are the same so I know it
is he. The only dates that didn’t come out to what we have on his military papers are his date of release
in a prisoner exchange. That date is off of what the papers say. But after he was released he was marched
to Shreveport, Louisiana, well over 100 miles east, and the date of arrival at Shreveport is the date they
listed as his exchange date. After he arrived at Shreveport he was forced on to New Orleans. |
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| In a small booklet I purchased is a picture of his 19th Iowa and
one of those men has to be James Monroe Miller. But which one? We will never
know. Only that he lived… |
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