The 7th Florida Takes Prisoners to Richmond

   Several times in the past, I have written about prisons, concentrating on prison guards (here) and moving prisoners across the South (here). Captain Robert B. Smith, Company K, 7^th Florida Infantry, was in charge of a group of guards and prisoners following the battle of Murfreesboro. He recorded his story in 1914.

   “In the winter of 1863, after the battle of… [Murfreesboro]… all of the non-commissioned officers and privates who were captured at that time were sent to Richmond, Va. There were 3,300 of them.

Bristol, TN/VA in 1857

   At Knoxville, Tenn., our regiment, the 7^th Fla., was detailed to guard them as far as Bristol, on the line of the Virginia and Tennessee [Railroad]. Nothing of any particular interest happened until we reached the Watauga River. There was a very high bridge over that river, and a raiding party of Federals from Cumberland Gap had burned the bridge, and the cars could proceed no father.

   We had to march from there to Bristol, a distance of 12 or 14 miles . . . When we reached Bristol I went to the commander, Maj. Keys, and roused him out of bed and told him who I was and what I had for him. He was taken completely by surprise and did not know what to do with the prisoners. Some one, however, must have notified the railroad authorities, for there were two trains of box cars to take us on to Richmond.

   Major Keys had no one to send along as a guard, for his men were off on a scout and would not be back for two days, or more. He wanted me to go on with my regiment, but I could not, for my orders were to carry the prisoners to Bristol and return.

   I told Maj. Keys I did not think a guard was necessary—that he could take them himself. He asked me if I would be willing to go with them without a guard. I told him I would be glad to.

   Arrangements were soon made. The 7^th Fla. Was sent back under command of a subordinate officer, and the 3,300 Federal prisoners and I boarded the cars and were soon ‘on to Richmond.’”

   At Wytheville, Va., the trains stopped a long time, and the men, being hungry, swarmed off the cars to beg or buy something to eat. I could not blame them. The Mayor or Marshall wanted to know why I didn’t keep them on the cars.

   I could not help but laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation—one man guarding 3,300! However, I told him, “All right,” and went the entire length of the two trains and gave the orders that ‘no one was to leave the cars.’ Strange as it may seem, that order was obeyed just as if they had been my own men.

   One man died on the way and was put off at a station and the trains moved on. I never knew what [was] the cause of his death. When we got to Lynchburg it was early morning of the second day from Bristol. There I reported to Col. Lyons, the commandant. He wanted me to go on to Richmond, but I said: ‘No; I cannot, for some of those men have been without food for three days and are suffering.’

   He said: They have no formation and you cannot give them rations. It will be a ‘grab game’ just as it was at Knoxville, Tenn., where you last rationed them.’

   That seemed very reasonable, but a happy inspiration came to me at that moment, and I told him I could issue the rations to every man, and would assume the whole responsibility. All I asked was two hours’ time. He agreed to my proposition and issued orders for 3,000 rations. The railyard where the cars with the prisoners were was an ideal place for my experiment. Very many citizens were attracted there, curious to see and to hear.

   I mounted a box car and announced that I was going to give them rations and I wanted their help. They assured me mostly heartily that I should have it. Joy beamed in their faces and added speed to their feet and sharpness to their wits. I told them in a few words what I wanted done and began calling them by states.

   “Maine troops, fall in on the extreme right; New Hampshire troops, fall in next, Western and Northern states. After naming every state from Maine to California, there were several hundred men left. I called out to them, “Where do you belong?”

   Some one yelled out, “Call the Southern states.”

   I had not thought of that, so I called, “North Carolina troops, fall in!” Quite a good many moved to the right, and then, “South Carolina troops, fall in!” and sure enough there were some from South Carolina. The citizens began to guy them unmercifully, and when I gave the command, “Tennessee troops, fall in! it seemed that there were a hundred or more. The citizens did not guy them so much. But when I called Virginia I thought the citizens would come over the fence after them.

   Soon all were in two ranks, and I had the orderlies to step two paces to the front. Out of these orderly-sergeants, I selected 65 captains for 50 men each, and instructed them to write down the names of their men and then go with a detail of our men to draw rations.

   They were warned that if any man of their company was cheated out of his rations the captain and his four men would have to supply him with a ration, even if they went without.

   There was no complaint. That evening we loaded cars quickly, using our same formations, and proceeded on to Richmond, where we arrived at 7 o’clock the next morning. The railroad authorities were afraid to take us over the James River on their bridge neither would they permit us all to cross at the same time. We still had our company formation and could easily manage that order by sending a few companies at a time.

   Soon we were over in the city. Many people were in evidence as spectators, but they were civil and good-natured. Just to have a little amusement, as we were marching in the middle of the street towards Libbey prison, I gave the order, “By companies, right wheel into line, march!” This order was promptly obeyed, and we marched by company front until we reached Libbey Prison, where I took my leave of these jolly prisoners.”[1]

   This is quite a remarkable tale: one officer, escorting 3,000 prisoners through Tennessee and Virginia. Is there any chance of proving this post-war account? First, there is not a published history of the 7^th Florida Infantry (that I can find). The 7^th Florida was organized in April 1862 in Gainesville, Florida. They were assigned to the Army of Tennessee.[2] They are not listed in the order of battle for Murfreesboro. They were a part of Bragg’s army when it invaded Kentucky, and, in February 1863, were doing garrison duty at Cumberland Gap. They were reported in Knoxville from February 1863, through Saunder’s Raid in June 1863. So they are in the right place at the right time. (Many of the Florida Compiled Military Service Records are very difficult to read.)[3] Maybe the 7^th Florida was serving as provost marshal in Knoxville. An article detailing the movements of the 19^th Georgia Battalion notes on January 5, 1863, that when author’s battalion arrived in Knoxville, “we reported to Capt. A.S. Moseley, 7^th Regiment Florida Volunteers, who is an able and efficient officer.”[4]

   There is an interesting piece in the file of Capt. Robert B. Smith dated March 25, 1864, to the Quarter Master regarding other matters. And then there is this: “Also awaiting receipts from the Qu. Master for tents & cooking utensils turned over at Knoxville Tenn when we were ordered to Virginia.”[5]

   Were prisoners from Murfreesboro sent to Richmond? On January 13, 1863, the Daily Richmond Whig reported that 168 Federal captured at Murfreesboro were in Lynchburg, with another 800 more expected to arrive that night.[6] An Abington newspaper reported a few days later that “For several days past, the trains going eastward have been loaded down with prisoners from Murfreesboro, en route for Richmond.”[7] At least some of the Federal prisoners captured at Murfreesboro were sent to Richmond. Is there any record of Smith’s prisoners’ marching in company front formation through the streets toward Libby Prison? Not that I have found so far.

   Maybe some a good book on the 7^th Florida would prove what seems like a tall tale. Or, maybe one of those Federal prisoners captured at Murfreesboro wrote about the event after the fact. It seems that most of the Murfreesboro prisoners were paroled rather quickly.

  

---

[1] Robert B. Smith, “3,300 Federal Prisoners and I.” Civil War Times Illustrated, December 1975, 41-43.

[2] Crute, Units of the Confederate States Army, 77.

[3] CMSR, Record of events, 7^th Florida Infantry, Roll 0076, M251, RG109.

[4] The Macon Telegraph, January 9, 1863.

[5] Robert Smith, CMSR, Roll 0079, M251, RG109.

[6] Daily Richmond Whig, January 13, 1863.

[7] The Abington Virginia, January 16, 1863.

The Confederate graves at Arlington

    At a recent event, someone posed a question about the Confederate graves at Arlington. His ancestor is one of the ones in Section 16. But the greater question is: were there Confederates buried in Arlington during the war? That is a great question, and the internet is all over the place.

   Arlington was constructed by George Washington Parke Custis and was home to him and his family. The house sits on Arlington Heights, overlooking Washington, D.C. Custis’s daughter Mary married Robert E. Lee, and after the death of Custis, the house passed to her. When Robert E. Lee was in town, and not on duty someplace, this is where he called home. Lee was here when called upon to put down John Brown’s insurrection at Harpers Ferry, and it was here Lee returned when called from Texas in 1861. It was here that Lee chose to resign from the United States Army and enter the service of Virginia. It was in mid-May when Mary Lee left Arlington for the last time. On May 23, 1861, 10,000 Federal troops crossed the Potomac River and seized Arlington Heights.[1]

   The home and grounds became a military encampment and headquarters. Irvin McDowell set up his headquarters in the house. Fortifications were constructed nearby. Arlington would be inside those fortifications protecting Washington, D.C. 

Graves in Arlington, ca. 1865 (LOC)

   In 1862, the U.S. Congress passed an act dealing with collecting taxes “in the Insurrectionary Districts within the United States.” Mary Lee was taxed $92.07, and she sent the funds through a relative. However, the tax commissioners refused to accept the payment, declaring that the payment had to be paid in person by the legal owner. Mary was unable to do that The property was seized, and a sale held where the U.S. government, for $26,800, purchased the house and 1,100 acres.[2]

   Due to the proximity of the front lines, sometimes at the very door of the city, Washington was one vast military hospital. Churches and schools were pressed into service in emergency duty. Early in the war, the civilian hospital, the Government Hospital for the Insane, and the Union hotel were seized for permanent hospitals. Others were opened: the Providence Hospital, the Judiciary Square Hospital, Mount Pleasant Hospital, the Armory Square Hospital, St. Aloysius Hospital, and others. At the height of the Maryland Campaign, there were about sixty hospitals in the capitol.[3]

   Many of the Federal dead were taken to the Soldiers Home Cemetery, on Rock Creek near Fort Totten. Needing more space, Montgomery Meigs, Quartermaster General of the Army, who was in charge of the burial of Federal soldiers, allowed Federal soldiers to be buried on the grounds of Arlington. The first documented war-time grave appears to be that of Pvt. William Christman, 67^th Pennsylvania Infantry. He was interred on May 13, 1864, near the slave cemetery on the grounds of Arlington. A few others followed, but on June 15, 1864, Meigs requested Secretary of War Edwin Stanton to declare Arlington House and two hundred surrounding acres, a military cemetery. Stanton approved it the same day. It is often speculated that Meigs’ actions were to keep the Lee family from ever returning to the property. By the end of 1864, over 7,000 graves were located on the grounds.[4]

   Confederate soldiers, Southern civilians, and Northern political prisoners were kept at the Old Capital prison, a former hotel that had served as a hotel, and as the U.S. Capitol building after the British burned the Capitol in 1814. Official records record that 5,761 prisoners passed through this prison. Many were on their way to some other installation. However, at least 457 died while incarcerated at the Old Capitol Prison, most of them in the prison hospital or another hospital within the city. Some of those were interred at the Congressional Cemetery, about a mile away from the prison. (You can read more about the cemetery here) But were all of them?

    Apparently not. They were buried in different cemeteries across the city, including Soldiers’ Home Cemetery, Rock Creek Cemetery, Congressional Cemetery, and starting in 1864, Arlington. Samuel E. Lewis was a Confederate doctor during the war, moving to Washington, D.C. after the war where he continued his practice. He was also a member of the Charles Broadway Rouss Camp, No. 1911, United Confederate Veterans.  Lewis was concerned with not only the care of aging veterans, but also with the burial of Confederates who died during the war. There were over 500 Confederates who died in the Federal capital. There was a modest relocation of 241 Confederate soldiers’ remains to Virginia and the Carolinas in the 1870s, organized by various Ladies Memorial Associations. Yet the others remained.

A map showing the original location of Confederate
graves with the new section. (Virginia Museum of History)

   It was Lewis who urged the military, Congress, and the president to get involved and designate a number of acres within Arlington for the reburial of the remaining Confederate dead in Washington, D.C. Taking care of the Confederate dead was something that President McKinnley advocated in a speech in Atlanta, Georgia, in 1898. Congress appropriated $2,500 for the purpose of removing those dead from the Soldiers’ Home Cemetery and three different plots within Arlington, to Section 16 of the Arlington National Cemetery in 1900. Not everyone was in favor of this idea. The Southern Memorial Association wanted the remains of the Confederate soldiers returned to the various states and reburied in Southern cemeteries, most notably, Hollywood Cemetery in Richmond. Eventually, Lewis won the argument.[5]

   There were 136 Confederate graves at Arlington, and 128 at the Soldiers’ Home Cemetery. Reinterment work began in early 1901, and the work was finished in October 1901. Each soldier’s grave was marked by a white marble tombstone. What became known as the Confederate section was near what was then the main entrance of the cemetery.[6]

   To return to our question, yes, there were Confederate prisoners of war buried at Arlington National Cemetery once internment began in the spring of 1864. There were also Confederates interred at other cemeteries as well. Those interred at Arlington were originally in three different sections and were consolidated into Section 16 in 1901. There are still Confederates buried in the Congressional Cemetery as well. Probably half of the Confederates who died and were buried in Washington, D.C., during the war were returned to Virginia and North Carolina.

[1] Perry, Lady of Arlington, 230-31.

[2] Ashabranner, A Grateful Nation, 30.

[3] Janke, A Guide to Civil War Washington,  69, 76-80.

[4] Ashabranner, A Grateful Nation, 32-34.

[5] Krowl, “In the Spirit of Fraternity” The Virginia Magazine of History and Biography, 111, 2:151-186.

[6] Ibid.

Tuscaloosa’s Prisoner of War Camp

Henry Wirz, second commander of the
Tuscaloosa Prison Camp. 

   Early during the war, one local Alabama historian wrote, Tuscaloosa became a camp for Federal prisoners. Federal soldiers captured at the battle of First Manassas were sent to Tuscaloosa. The thinking is that Tuscaloosa was so far south, no prisoners would try to escape. At first, warehouses and hotels near the river were used to house the prisoners. Later, a larger camp was constructed elsewhere.[1] Maybe there is some truth in this assessment.

   On October 25, 1861, Secretary of War Judah P. Benjamin wrote to Alabama governor A.B. Moore about a facility to house prisoners: “I am told,” Benjamin wrote, “you have at Tuscaloosa not only legislative buildings, but an insane asylum and a military institute, all unoccupied. We are greatly embarrassed by our prisoners as all our accommodations here are required for our sick and wounded. It would be a great public service if you can find a place for some, if not all, of our prisoners. We have over 2,000 here.”[2] Added to this, in November 1861, a group of Union operatives destroyed several bridges through East Tennessee. Those who were caught and “identified as having been engaged in bridge-burning” were tried by a “drum-head court-martial” and, if found guilty, were “executed on the spot by hanging.” Those without proof of involvement but suspected, were arrested and sent to Tuscaloosa, imprisoned “at the depot selected by the Government for prisoners of war.”[3] By November 28, some twenty-two prisoners from Carter County had been arrested, sent to Nashville, and were expected to be sent to Tuscaloosa (it is not clear if all twenty-two were to be sent, or just “5 or 6 known to have been in arms.”)[4]

      An abandoned paper mill that was totally unsuited for the job as a prison was selected. When the prisoners began to arrive, some locals were used as guards.[5] Prisoners, at least those captured in the east, were transported via rail from Petersburg, Wilmington, and Montgomery, then steamboat via the Alabama, Tombigbee, and Black Warrior rivers.[6]

   Were all 2,000 prisoners that Benjamin referenced, plus an untold number from the bridge burners, sent to Tuscaloosa? Probably not, but just how many were sent is unclear. There were enough for new Alabama governor John G. Shorter to write to Benjamin on December 19 that he had “Better send no more prisoners to Tuscaloosa . . . Accommodations exhausted.” Also, the state asylum was not available to be used as a prison.[7]

   In December 1861, Capt. E. A. Powell organized a company of prison guards. Powell stepped aside and the company became known after their new captain, C.D. Freeman (Freeman’s Company of the Alabama Prison Guards. They served at the prison in Tuscaloosa until the fall of 1862 when they were transferred to the prison in Salisbury.[8]

   On March 5, 1862, Braxton Bragg ordered that the Federal prisoners in Memphis were to be forwarded to Tuscaloosa.[9] After the skirmish on the Elk River near Bethel, Tennessee, on May 9, 1862, the prisoners were sent “over the mountain by the turnpike road to Tuscaloosa”[10] As early as December 1861, Capt. Elias Griswold was reported as in command of the prison at Tuscaloosa. Griswold apparently held this command through April 11, 1862, when he was promoted to major and ordered to Richmond, Virginia, to be provost marshal.[11] On learning that Griswold was heading to Richmond, local citizens asked that his assistant, Henry Wirz, be placed in command.[12]

   Some of the Federal prisoners from the battle of Shiloh in April 1862 were sent to the prison at Tuscaloosa.    

The Confederate prison in Tuscaloosa was closed by the fall of 1862 and the prisoners were paroled or sent elsewhere.[13] Tuscaloosa was later reopened in the spring of 1864, housing Federal soldiers captured during the Overland Campaign and Brice’s Cross Roads.[14] Just when the prison finally closed and if it was still using the old paper mill is unclear.

---

[1] Hubbs, Tuscaloosa, 40.

[2] Sanders, While in the Hands of the Enemy, 49.

[3] Official Records, Series 1, Vol. 7, 701.

[4] Official Records, Series 1, Vol. 7, 701.

[5] Hesseltine, Civil War Prisons, 64.

[6] Colton, Travels in the Confederate States, 60.

[7] Sanders, While in the Hands of the Enemy, 49.

[8] CSR, Roll 0502, M331, RG109.

[9] Official Records, Series 1, Vol. 10, part 2, 298.

[10] Official Records, Series 1, Vol. 10, part 1, 887.

[11] CSR, M331, RG109.

[12] CSR, M331, RG109.

[13] Sanders, While in the Hands of the Enemy, 122.

[14] Sanders, While in the Hands of the Enemy, 219; Radley, Rebel Watch Dog, 170,

Memphis’s Irving Block Prison

   “Notorious for its cruel and unsanitary living conditions” is how the Irving Block Prison in Memphis has been described. The building was constructed in 1860 as a hotel. “This section of town was notably tough and iron slates were used to cover the windows,” a 1939 guide to Tennessee recorded. Located on the west side of Court Square, the building was three stories tall. When the war came, the building was used as one of the Confederate hospitals, and it was run by the Southern Mothers. When the Confederates abandoned Memphis in June 1862, Federal officials repurposed the building as a prison for Confederate and Federal soldiers, along with civilians and spies.

   Absalom Grimes was one of the men imprisoned at Irving Block. Grimes was a river boat pilot who was selected by Sterling B. Price to carry or smuggle the mail between the South and the North. Grimes was captured numerous times, including once in Memphis.[1] After being interrogated by the provost marshal, Grimes was taken to the Irving Block Prison. “That prison was on the west side of Jackson Square in Memphis . . . three stories high. A pair of stairs led from the lower storeroom into the basement, where there was an excavated doorway leading into the yard. This doorway had boards nailed over it, and one wide board was off about three feet above the ground,” Grimes wrote after the war. “When I was placed in this cellar a ball with a chain about three feet long was riveted to my right ankle and one end of the chain was stapled to the floor. There were eighteen other prisoners chained to the floor in like manner, placed in a row from the front to the rear of the long cellar. I was chained next to a big stove . . .” Grimes wrote of there being a Federal soldier in the cellar, “imprisoned for stealing government mules out of the corral and selling them.” Grimes was held in the cellar for more than two weeks, “and my daily fare consisted of two stale crackers and a piece of rotten bacon and some water, or coffee made of beans and dried Cherokee rose leaves.” Adjoining the room where Grimes was held was a room for female prisoners. Grimes was eventually transferred to Alton, Illinois.[2]  

 Irving Block Prison in 1864. (Historic-Memphis)

   Some of those female prisoners could have been prostitutes arrested in a raid in mid-1863. The “house of ill repute” was at 115 Beale Street, and the proprietress was Kate Stoner. Six or seven girls were arrested and locked up in the Irving Block Prison until they could be tried. All were found guilty and sent north of Cairo, Illinois, with a promise of imprisonment if they returned to Memphis.[3] Another woman arrested was named Pullen. An officer on picket suspected her of being a smuggler and sent her back to the city where she (and probably her son) were locked up in Irving.[4]

   Colonel R. F. Looney and Capt. A.D. Bright were sent by General Chalmers into west Tennessee to arrest and bring back into Confederate lines Confederate deserters and stragglers. They were captured near Arlington and sent to Memphis and the Irving Block Prison. “They were placed in a back room and strongly guarded, but in a short time the officer ordered that they be moved to the third story, a dirty place, where thieves, thugs, and cut-throats were kept, and where vermin abounded . . . There was not a bed of any description in the long room, neither was there a chair or bench to sit on. They walked the floor all night.” These men were later paroled.[5]  

   In another instance, Lt. Jason Hoey, 17^th Arkansas, wrote to the Secretary of War that Lt. Col. Woods had bribed a Federal officer, Lt. Denis Lewis, to allow him to escape. After effecting his escape, Lewis had Woods rearrested. Woods complained that Lewis, “did not act the gentleman with him; he had given Lieutenant Lewis his money and then he (Lewis) betrayed him.” Lewis went to the prison, was shown into the cell where Woods was, and finding Wood asleep, Lewis drew his pistol and shot Woods in the head, killing him. According to Hoey, Lewis was tried by a court-martial, but “went to parts unknown.” He supposedly was tried and convicted of the crime, but escaped.[6] The Memphis Bulletin, in November 1863, related had it was so cold, and fuel in so short of supply, that some of the prisoners tore up fifty bunks to burn and keep warm.[7]

   There were some successful escapes. Captain M.A. Miller was caught smuggling two boxes of cavalry swords across the Mississippi River. He was tried by courts-martial, found guilty, and condemned to death. At this early date, prisoners from the city were allowed to visit their homes with a guard, and under the pretext of having a sick child, Miller was able to escape. Much of the plan previous to his escape was passed along when his family brought him food, “as the prison fare was unfit to eat.”[8] There were reports of sixty or more who escaped in February 1864, and eleven in May 1864.[9]

   U.S. Grant appointed Maj. Gen. Stephen A. Hurlbut as commander in Memphis. While the Irving Block Prison had various commanders, Hurlbut would appoint Capt. George A. Williams in 1863.

Maj. Gen. Stephen A. Hurlbut (LOC)

   In April 1864, Lt. Col. John F. Marsh, 24^th Veterans Reserve Corps, was sent to inspect the prison. March stated that Irving Block Prison was “the filthiest place the inspector ever saw occupied by human beings . . . The whole management and government of the prisoners could not be worse. Discipline and order are unknown. Food sufficient, but badly served. In a dark, wet cellar, I found twenty-eight prisoners chained to a wet floor, where they had been constantly confined, many of them for months, one since November 16, 1863, and are not for a moment released, even to relive the calls of nature.” The prison hospital had a “shiftless appearance ad the guard dirty and inefficient.” There was no “book of memorandum showing the disposition of the prison fund.”[10] Charges were drawn up and Williams arrested. He argued that he had actually done much to improve the prison. It did come out that Hurlburt, and maybe Williams, were running a multi-faceted extortion ring in Memphis. For example, they demanded ransoms from local wealthy families for the release of prisoners. Hurlbert also engaged in profiteering, getting cuts from the cotton that moved through the city. Hurlburt also targeted the Jewish population of Memphis, closing their businesses, but leaving non-Jewish businesses open. Hurlbut was brought up on charges toward the end of the war, but was allowed to resign. [11]

   History says that Lincoln ordered the prison closed in 1865.[12] However, that does not seem to be true. In March 1865, Col. John P.C. Shanks, commanding a cavalry brigade in west Tennessee, makes mention of capturing two “Guerrillas” and sending them to Irving Block Prison.[13] John G. Ryan, on parole, was passing through Memphis in July 1865 when he was arrested and hauled by the provost to Irving Block Prison. Ryan described the third floor room he was taken to as having “shackles, manacles, handcuffs and balls and chains.” A ball and chain was affixed to his left ankle. He was removed to another room and chained to the floor. Several days later, Ryan was sent to Washington, D.C. He was believed to be John H. Surratt, a spy accused of plotting with John Wilkes Booth to kidnap and assassinate Abraham Lincoln. Ryan was not released until October, and later sued the Federal government for false arrest.[14]

   The building was demolished in 1937.  

---

[1] Ralls County Record, March 31, 1911.

[2] Grimes, Absalon Grimes, Confederate Mail Runner, 150-51, 153.

[3] Lowery, Confederate Heroines, 90-5.

[4] Jackson, The Colonel’s Diary, 98.

[5] Dinkins,  1861 to 1865, by an Old Johnnie, 217-18.

[6] OR, Series II, 5:945; Confederate Veteran, Vol. 27, No. 1, 19.

[7] Memphis Bulletin, December 1, 1863.

[8] Confederate Veteran, 157, Vol. 13, No. 4, 157.

[9] The Illinois State Journal, February 22, 1864; Daily Missouri Republican, May 14, 1864.

[10] OR, Ser. 2, 7:402-3.

[11] Lash, A Politician Turned General, 137; Korn and Nevis, American Jewry and the Civil War, 154.

[12] Daily News, January 10, 2013: “Irving Block Prison” https://historic-memphis.com/memphis-historic/irving-block/irving-block.html

[13] OR, Series I, Vol. 49, 1:79.

[14] Memphis Avalanche, March 14, 1888; The Boston Globe, July 10, 1888.