The worst managed affair of the war: An Illinois sergeant on the debacle at Brice’s Crossroads

Writing to his wife from Memphis about a week after the defeat at Brice’s Crossroads, Commissary Sergeant William H. Planck of the 114th Illinois called it “the worst managed affair of the war. Our men were never formed in line of battle but were sent in by regiments to be cut to pieces and we were whipped in detail. In less than 20 minutes after the men went in, the wounded were brought back by the dozens. General Sturgis told the men between Guntown and Ripley to “look out for themselves.” What think you of such a miserable general as this? No death he could suffer would be sufficient punishment for him. I believe he sold us, for he ordered all the train right up to the front and it was all lost including the ambulances.”

          Planck knew well of what he wrote, as he was in charge of the regimental supply wagons that were caught up in the chaos near Tishomingo Creek at the close of the engagement,  escaping capture or death by a hairsbreadth. His harrowing account of the expedition and disastrous retreat which followed it first saw publication in the June 29, 1864, edition of the Illinois Weekly State Journal published in Springfield, Illinois.

 

Commissary Sergeant William H. Planck of the 114th Illinois escaped with his horse but without his regiment's supply wagons during the retreat from Brice's Crossroads. " We kept moving along and some began to get awfully sleepy when we would rouse them up with 'Remember Libby Prison!', he wrote his wife in Springfield. "Some wanted to lie down on the side of the road and sleep till morning, but we could hear the Rebels firing in our rear and we would all be taken if we fell back or stopped." 


          I will now try to give you some idea of what we have passed through since Friday the 10th. As you know, our expedition left here on the 1st of June, our destination known to none but the General commanding. We marched for nine days and on the morning of the 10th found the Rebels in front (in small force as we supposed), our camp being 15 miles from Guntown on the Mobile & Ohio Railroad.

          About 11 o’clock, our cavalry got into a skirmish with the Rebels and followed them up within three miles of Guntown, where they were driven back a little, just enough to draw on the infantry which was back three miles and moving up in common time. The order came back to bring them up on the double quick and the day was very hot! The men moved up rapidly and in good shape for two miles when they began to get sunstruck and fell on the side of the road by dozens. The men that were still able to keep up were left by the fallen ones to take care of them, thus leaving our ranks thinned and giving us but few men on the field. Some fell as they stepped into line on the field.

          A few minutes after the boys were ordered up, I received an order from our acting brigade quartermaster Mourer to bring our teams up on the double quick which I did. As soon as I started them, I told the boys the Rebels had picked their ground and would give us a hard fight for I heard heavy cannonading already. We had 200 wagons in all and they were ordered to be placed in a swamp field with the ammunition train in front (about 30 wagons). The supply train was ordered in next and then came our division baggage trains.

At this time, the cavalry came to the rear and the short lane was crowded full. We had just got our train in corral when the wounded men began coming our rapidly. The shot and shell fell thick among our trains, but no one seemed frightened and the men kept their teams and did just what they were told. We stayed in corral about 30 minutes when our forces were badly whipped and commenced falling back as fast as men could walk, the Rebels advancing and planting their guns in sight, at short range, and opening on our train.

          In a few moments, I saw we were between two forces with most of the whole train, some had moved out a little to the rear, but not many. We were in a hot place in close quarters with the Rebels in front and on both flanks pouring shot and shell into us thick as hail, killing our drivers and mules. The enemy was closing in on us within musket rain, the bullets falling like rain drops. We moved back a quarter of a mile and came to where our forces formed line with the men that were left, about half the number they went in with at first.

The Federal retreat across Tishomingo Creek turned into a rout when one of the supply wagons tipped over on the bridge over the creek, blocking the road for all following traffic. Sergeant Planck got across the creek by cutting the traces from his wagon and riding his horse through the waters. "The dense smoke hid us for a moment, so we improved the time and rode off," he wrote. 

          We kept moving back slowly (we could not move faster) when the artillery came back and we had to stop and take the shots as they came. Presently came ambulances, cavalry, infantry, etc., all in a crowd, and the road was one mass of living creatures, jammed in together. For 10 minutes, I could not move the train, but kept cool and soon got our wagons behind our line. Here Mourer came back and told me to take charge of the rear and bring it up and he would go to the head and work the train through.

          All this time, the fighting was going on at a furious rate on all sides and our men were coming back by regiments. Now we ordered the teams cut loose and told the men to jump on the mules. The third wagon in the rear was already in the hands of the Rebs, who came up with a shout and a volley at the same time. The dense smoke hid us for a moment from them and we improved the time and rode off. Some of the ammunition wagons were in our rear and the ammunition lying in the road for our men to snatch as they came back, but the Rebels pressed them so hard they had little time to get any.

          The Rebels fired our own ammunition at us, they using the same caliber. We were then all on a general retreat and most of our guns were in the hands of the enemy, pouring shells in amongst us. Some batteries only fired one round at the Rebels and were then turned on us. Volley after volley came into us from all sides and sounded like one report, the men falling dead and wounded on all sides. I saw men wounded in every part of the body from their feet to the top of their heads. Two men in our regiment rode through all safe with balls in their legs.

          We were 25 miles from Ripley when the fight commenced. There are two roads leading to the town and it was a race with our own and the Rebel cavalry who would get there first. Our forces were badly whipped in one hour and driven from their first position; then fell back and fought hard for an hour, giving us a chance to get back out of the heavy fighting. We moved on in a fast walk all night, not even stopping for a drink of water. All we had to eat was one-and-a-half hard crackers and we had eaten nothing since 4 in the morning. I took supper on the road at 12 o’clock at night on a small piece of cracker and put the rest away for the next day, but soon found that some of the boys had nothing, so I divided the remainder amongst them.


We kept moving along and some began to get awfully sleepy when we would rouse them up with “Remember Libby Prison!” Some wanted to lie down on the side of the road and sleep till morning, but we could hear the Rebels firing in our rear and we would all be taken if we fell back or stopped. So, we rode on to Ripley and got in before the Rebels.

Day was just breaking. We knew our time was precious, but our horses were very hungry and tired, fearing we would give out. Here I met Mourer, who proposed a short sleep while a Negro held our horses on the grass to eat. We took off the saddles, laid ourselves down and told the Negro to wake us in an hour, which he did. We then started through the town and our boys came pouring in from all regiments, white and black, some without hats, coats, shoes, or guns. They had thrown away everything weighing an ounce they could do without. Their pants were covered with mud, wet from crossing streams, and very heavy. Some cut them off at the thigh and the Negro boys threw them away altogether. Everyone was asking for his regiment and officers but nobody could tell anything about them.

Charley, McNeil, and I then started for Memphis and had not gone through the town when a heavy volley of musketry was heard on our left, and we saw our cavalry keeping the Rebels back on the edge of the town, so we started off on a trot. Some of our cavalry was ahead and we fell in with them. We passed General Samuel Sturgis and staff two miles out of town. He was trying to get away as fast as he could, leaving everyone to take care of himself.

"We passed General Sturgis and staff two miles
out of town," Planck recalled. "He was trying
to get away as fast as he could, leaving 
everyone to take care of himself."

Here we fell in with a number of men of our regiment, some on mules and some on foot. They had marched all night and all the day before to the battlefield and had thrown away all but their canteens. They had had no sleep and nothing to eat. We then marched together all day Saturday (11th) until 4 p.m. when we got separated, only Charlie, McNeil, and I keeping together. Coming out from Ripley, every road was thronged with men, mounted and on foot. They will all tell their own tales of hardships and sufferings to tell. Some of the men kept up and marched two days and all night on foot.

At about 4 a.m. Sunday, we halted eight miles from Collierville and took a short sleep. I saw my poor horse was falling fast but thought an hour’s rest might enable him to get through. He was glad to get rid of his saddle and ate all the grass within his reach. When we got up, Charlie’s mule was gone. I made him take my horse as I was fresh, and I walked in, beating the mule by a mile, and taking him when he arrived Here, we fed our animals and saw a number of our boys who had come in by different roads. We then got ready to start for Memphis, a distance of 24 miles, when three trains came out with one brigade of infantry and a squad of cavalry with rations and forage and we rode over to the railroad. I got the 114th together, got rations for them in a few moments, and then we helped them on the train, their feet being so sire and swollen that they could not walk after they had once stopped and their willpower gave out.

I was heartsick and cannot give you an idea of what we went through from Friday morning to Sunday morning. We rode 92 miles and most of the men walked and hadn’t closed their eyes once. Every man said he would die before he would be taken. By Sunday, only 113 of our regiment came in; some of the men cried like children because they could not get up and on their feet when the train came.

The Rebels fought our rearguard all the way to the place where we stopped Sunday morning. Colonel John King came through on one road with 65 of his regiment and the colors (all torn to pieces) and 11 officers. The colonel commanding our brigade came on the same road with about 1,600 men of all kinds, blacks, whites, and Indians. He brought any that could come and protected them all. He fought all the way through front and rear and on both flanks with no cavalry to protect him at all. The Rebels were all mounted that followed up.

Lieutenant Colonel John Fields King commanded the 114th Illinois during Sturgis's expedition.

The fight at Guntown was the worst managed affair of the war. Our men were never formed in line of battle but were sent in by regiments to be cut to pieces and we were whipped in detail. In less than 20 minutes after the men went in, the wounded were brought back by the dozens. I never heard such firing. Vicksburg was play compared to this fight. Some officers who were in the battle of Shiloh say this was far worse for the time it lasted.

General Sturgis told the men between Guntown and Ripley to “look out for themselves.” What think you of such a miserable general as this? No death he could suffer would be sufficient punishment for him. I believe he sold us, for he ordered all the train right up to the front and it was all lost including the ambulances. We lost 200 wagons, 600,000 rounds of ammunition, and all of our artillery along with 100,000 rations.

Some of the boys came in on Tuesday, their feet wrapped up in their drawers and coats which they had torn into strips and tied on. Few men came out of Ripley with shoes. Every man who fell behind the rear guard was shot if he did not surrender at once. They followed us 80 miles like wolves and where I slept a few minutes on Sunday, the Rebels woke our men with “Get up, you damned Yankees, we will take care of you now!”

Source:

Letter from Commissary Sergeant William H. Planck, 114th Illinois Volunteer Infantry, Illinois Weekly State Journal (Springfield, Illinois), June 29, 1864, pg. 1

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