Duane's take
Here's my telling of what the official marker has to say about Camp Belknap — and friend, this one's worth slowing down for. In May of 1846, the United States declared war against Mexico, and Congress authorized the raising of fifty thousand volunteer troops to supplement the regular Army. Fifty thousand.
Now, General Zachary Taylor was the man in charge down on the Gulf Coast, and those volunteers started arriving at Brazos Santiago so fast, so thick, that Taylor was forced — just flat overwhelmed — to put them somewhere. Anywhere. Temporary encampments would have to do.
One of those camps went up right here. Camp Belknap, established in the summer of 1846. And the land it sat on tells you something before you even hear another word.
It was a long, narrow rise — about two miles in length, half a mile at its widest point. The first high ground you'd hit coming up from the Gulf Coast. Which sounds promising, maybe even a relief after wading through coastal lowlands.
Only it wasn't. Best estimates put the number of men at Camp Belknap somewhere between seven thousand and eight thousand soldiers. Several regiments, drawn from eight different states.
Thought to be the largest encampment for volunteer troops in the whole operation. Seven to eight thousand men on a strip of land two miles long and half a mile wide. You can already feel what's coming.
The elements hit them. The insects hit them. Thorny plants tore at them.
Unsanitary conditions and overcrowding did the slow, patient work that no enemy ever got the chance to do. Disease moved through the camp, and men died — not in battle, not from any enemy attack, but from the land itself, from the heat, from the crowding, from illness. The funerals came so regularly that one, sometimes two, were held each day.
And here's the thing that just sits with you: no enemy attacks ever took place. There was one false alarm. Just one.
The men who died at Camp Belknap never fell in combat. They fell to what the marker calls a premature death, in a temporary camp on a narrow strip of Texas ground. By August and September, most of the volunteers were moved — upriver, toward camps nearer Matamoros, or further on to Camargo.
The operation wound down as quietly as it had wound up. And by December of 1846, Camp Belknap was completely empty. Seven to eight thousand men.
One summer. One strip of land. And a whole lot of graves that had nothing to do with the enemy.
That's the story the marker tells — and it deserves to be told straight.
What the marker says
In May 1846 when war was declared against Mexico, the U.S. Congress authorized the raising of 50,000 volunteer troops to supplement the regular U.S. Army. General Zachary Taylor was quickly inundated with volunteer soldiers arriving at Brazos Santiago, and was forced to place them in temporary encampments. Camp Belknap, located on this site, was established in the summer of 1846. The camp was located on a long narrow rise of land, measuring about 2 miles in length and one-half mile at its widest point. It was the first high ground encountered after leaving the Gulf Coast. Thought to be the largest encampment for volunteer soldiers, troop estimates total 7,000-8,000 men including several regiments from eight states. Soldiers suffered exposure to the elements, unsanitary living conditions, overcrowding, biting insects, thorny plants, and disease. Many died a premature death, often resulting in one two two funerals daily. No enemy attacks took place despite one false alarm. During August and September most of the volunteers were moved upriver either to camps nearer Matamoros, or further to Camargo. The camp was completely empty by December 1846.