Captured at Corinth: A Wisconsin POW's Story
In the Second Battle of Corinth fought October 3-4, 1862, the Federal Army of Mississippi under General William S. Rosecrans a total of 2,520 casualties, including 324 men missing or captured. Among those captured was Corporal Francis E. Engle of the 14th Wisconsin Infantry. In the following letter written home to his family from Benton Barracks in St. Louis, Missouri, Engle describes his time in captivity, his fare consisting largely of cornbread and fresh beef. The corporal was promptly exchanged, returning to Federal hands about two weeks after first being captured on the battlefield at Corinth.
Corporal Engle’s description of his time in captivity first saw publication in the November 13, 1862, edition of the Manitowoc Herald published in Manitowoc, Wisconsin.
Benton
Barracks, St. Louis, Missouri
October 30, 1862
The initial portions of the letter were not printed; the editors picked up the story Friday morning, October 3, 1862, when the Federal forces made their stand north of town:
In a few moments, our skirmishers were
drawn in and then our whole line fell back in good order to the breastworks
where Colonel Hancock ordered to halt and give it to the Rebels. My piece being
empty, I loaded, rose, and fired; before I could drop behind the breastwork, a
buckshot struck me about an inch behind the left ear, slid down the inside of
the jawbone and lodged in the chin where it now remains. I could not tell at
first how badly I was wounded.
The Rebels picked me up and took me to
a general who asked me a few questions then ordered me to the rear. When I came
back to the place where our regiment was first formed on the hill, I met John
M. Read. On our way back to the place of resting, the sun was very hot and I
think I should have fainted but for John tying his handkerchief over my head.
Friday night, John saw that my canteen was kept full. He also took off the only
coat he had and gave it to me a pillow and slept in his shirtsleeves. The
Rebels brought in blankets for the wounded and he saw that I had one.
Saturday morning [October 4], we heard
firing open at early dawn. We saw reinforcements of artillery going to the
front but we soon perceived a change in that all their teams were leaving
Corinth. This, we thought, looked like a defeat for the Rebels. And about 10 o’clock
we were ordered to start on the retreat. We marched about 11 miles that day and
halted on the bank of a small creek. Sunday [October 5], we continued our
retreat until we came within about half a mile of the Hatchie River when we heard
firing in front of us, came to a halt, countermarched, and then halted by the
side of the road while reinforcements were shoved forward. While halting here,
our men threw shells among us.
We then started south on the Ripley
road and marched until 11 o’clock at night. When we halted there was some beef
thrown in among us and this was the first they had given us since we were
taken. But fresh beef, without salt or bread, tasted good. Early the next
morning [Monday October 6], we started without breakfast and arrived at Ripley
about 4 o’clock in the afternoon. We camped in the fairgrounds and they gave us
some fresh beef and a piece of cornbread almost as large as your two fingers.
Tuesday morning [October 7] we had about the same quantity of cornbread and
then commenced our march to Holly Springs; night found us 13 miles from Ripley.
That night we drew nothing but beef and two ears of rotten corn.
The next morning (Wednesday October 8)
we started off without anything to eat but were promised that we should have
plenty that night. Night came and we halted on the bank of a creek. In the
course of the night, we each received a small piece of beef, a sweet potato,
and some cornbread. At 3 o’clock the next morning [Thursday October 9], we
started for Holly Springs and arrived at that city about 10 a.m. We remained
there until dark then took the cars for Jackson [Mississippi] at which place we
arrived about 10 the next morning [Friday October 10]. We stayed out in the
cold all that day and at night were quartered in the state house.
Saturday morning [October 11] we took
the cars for Vicksburg. Arriving safely in that city we were marched to the jail
which could not accommodate us all, so 180 of us were taken to the workhouse, a
building about 50 feet square surrounded by a brick wall some 20 feet high and
60 x 80 feet on the ground. At first we drew a small allowance of cornbread and
meat, but when regulated, we drew a pint of meal, half a pound of beef, plenty of
salt, and a little sugar and molasses. We made mush, cornbread, soup, broiled
beef, fried beef, etc. Bread was 50 cents a loaf, shoes $8, and boots $25.
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Vicksburg in 1862 with the Mississippi River in the background |
We remained in the “Cross-Bar Hotel” just one week and were
then placed on one of our steamers and under our own flag. But we received
worse treatment than we did in Rebeldom, worse than dogs. For 11 long days we
were on board the steamer Dauota and all that time on about half
rations. But that is past and gone.
We are now in these barracks and today
we drew new clothes and are clean and comfortable once more. It is sad to see
the names of the killed and wounded in the battle, but still sadder it is to
see the names of friends, friends with whom one has been most intimate. I was
so moved to see the name of Freiling Westgate in the list of killed. When in
line, he always stood either behind me or on my right. He enlisted the same day
that I did and we were to celebrate the anniversary. He was in another world
when that anniversary poked round and I was in jail at Vicksburg. I thought of
it when the day came but such is the fate of war.
Morris Van Douser is another gone. He
was a good soldier. Though sick most of the summer, he was always on hand when
there was a prospect of a fight. Our captain needs no words from me. His
bravery, I presume, is spoken of in every letter. That he fell I am aware, but
how he fell I know not. Those who knew him know that he must have fallen as the
brave fall. And when I see the record, I have no fears but that this assurance
will prove true.
My wound is entirely well.
The captain Engle is referring to was Captain Levi W. Vaughn; Private Andrew Sloggy of Co. E was with the captain when he received his mortal wound and reported “Captain Vaughn was shot down by my side. It was not until the Rebels drove us out of the entrenchments that he was shot. The last words he spoke to me were “Tell my wife and all my friends that I did my duty and died for my country.” I coaxed one or two men from another regiment to assist me in carrying the captain off the ground but it was of no use. The captain urged me all the while to leave him before the Rebels would get me. I stayed with him until there was no choice for me but to leave him or be killed or taken prisoner. If I had stayed, it is likely that I would not be numbered among the missing.”
Sources:
Letter from Corporal Francis E. Engle, Co. E, 14th Wisconsin Volunteer Infantry, Manitowoc Herald (Wisconsin), November 13, 1862, pg. 2
Letter from
Private Andrew Sloggy, Co. E, 14th Wisconsin Volunteer Infantry, Manitowoc
Herald (Wisconsin), November 6, 1862, pg. 2
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