Pictorial history of the war for the Union, volume 1 (of 2)

by Ann S. Stephens

An angry howl was the answer, and a dozen charged, with set teeth and bayonets fixed, upon the rebels, who recoiled from the shock, and surrendered their priceless trophy. The body of this thrice heroic man was passed down the bluff, and safely conveyed to the island. But now the Union lines were hopelessly disordered. The rebels came through both the field and woods in final force. Coggswell saw that the day was lost, and that the desperate, impossible retreat had come. So he ordered his scattered men to retire for embarkation, and the field was given up to the foe.

Large numbers of the Union troops had anticipated the order to retreat; for an hour the shore had been lined with stragglers and wearied men. Still, the reinforcing business had not ceased from the island, and during the fiercest of the action the two boats, which were bringing away the dead and wounded, returned from each trip laden with the residue of the Tammany and Massachusetts regiments. The life-boat proved a death-boat, for it swamped, from some cause, while conveying to the battle-field the last of the Tammany companies.

DEATH OF COLONEL BAKER.

Down the hill they came, in every direction and without order, hotly followed by the rebels to the very edge of the descent. Then the pursuers paused, too cautious to meet the chance of volleys from Harrison’s Island, but throwing a plunging fire upon the retiring loyalists, and aiming ruthlessly at the hundreds trying to swim the rapid river channel. The tumult and agony of that headlong descent, the clamor and crowd along the shore, the rush into one wretched skiff, already over-laden with wounded men, which forced it beneath the surface and brought the horror of death by water upon men who had already so fairly faced the battle-field are beyond description. Who can depict the wild struggle with those turbid waters, and the desperate calmness with which each wretched soldier went down at last? Who can tell of those who, struck down by the fire from above, slipped in their own blood upon the clayey river bank; of those who wasted too feeble strength in swimming half way across the cruel stream; of the shouts for help where no help came. A few, more fiercely courageous than the rest, dragged the cannon to the edge of the hill and plunged them over, thus rendering them useless to the enemy. The colonels who had fought so steadily still refused to surrender, but guarded the retreat, so far as desperate courage could do it, to the end. Led by Coggswell and Lee, several organized companies charged up at their tormentors, once and again returning dangerous volleys. They kept the enemy at bay till long after nightfall closed upon the scene. All who could pass over to the island had escaped, and midnight was close upon them before the two colonels and the other field officers still on the shore saw that their duty was accomplished, and surrendered themselves and the remnant of their commands to the enemy.

A most painful scene transpired at the sinking of the launch, in which were some sixty wounded men, and twenty or thirty members of the California First. The launch had been safely taken half way across the river, when, to their utter consternation, it was discovered that it was leaking, and the water gradually, but surely, gaining upon them. The wounded were lying at the bottom, suffering intolerably from their various dislocations, wounds and injuries, and all soaking in water, which at the very start was fully four inches deep. As the water grew deeper and rose above the prostrate forms of the wounded, their comrades lifted them into sitting postures that they might not be strangled by the fast rising stream. But the groans and cries, screams and moanings of the poor fellows who were thus tortured, were most distressing and indescribable. Despite all that could be done, the fate of the launch, and all that were in it, with the exception of a few expert swimmers, was sealed; suddenly, and like a flash of lightning, the fragile craft sunk, carrying with it at least fifty dying sufferers, and some twenty or thirty others, who had trusted their lives to its treacherous hold.

The very skies were pitiless that evening. O the misery of the black, tempestuous night, when the rain poured down upon that narrow island where those who escaped the flood and field were bivouacked, huddled together and bereft of their comrades-in-arms! Scores of the dead were guarded by sullen watchers; the wounded were tended in every possible shelter. The river swelled in a kind of savage triumph over the havoc it had made, its current darkling and murmuring on the east and west, while on the opposite shore lay their dead comrades, whose white faces the rain beat in merciless fury, but all unfelt, and far more harmless than it fell upon the living victims.

Next morning boat loads of dead and wounded were brought from the battle-field under a flag of truce; and a dispatch had been published in Washington stating that General Stone had successfully thrown his force across the Potomac, and held his position secure against any hostile force.

The statistics of this conflict show that the total number of Federal troops that crossed the Virginia channel was about 1,853 officers and men. Of these 653 belonged to the Massachusetts Fifteenth, 340 to the Massachusetts Twentieth, about 360 to the Tammany regiment, and 570 to the first battalion of the First California. The Massachusetts Fifteenth lost in killed, wounded, and missing 322, including a lieutenant-colonel (wounded), and 14 out of 28 line officers who crossed. The Massachusetts Twentieth lost in all 159, including a colonel, major, surgeon, and adjutant (prisoners), and 8 out of 17 line officers who crossed. The Tammany companies lost 163, including a colonel, and 7 out of 12 line officers who crossed. The Californians lost 300, including their colonel (the general commanding), lieutenant-colonel (wounded), adjutant, and 15 line officers out of 17 who crossed. Total engaged in the fight, 1,853; total losses, 953; field officers crossing, 11; returning uninjured, 3; line officers crossing, 74; returning uninjured, 30.

The troops that were successful in reaching Harrison’s Island remained there during the night of the 21st, and on the morning of the 22d were all passed over in safety to the Maryland shore, no attempt being made by the rebels to interfere with the movement. The condition of many of the men was pitiful. Some of them in their encounters with the enemy, and in struggling through the trees and thorny undergrowth, or plunging down the rocky steep, having been almost stripped of clothing. In a short time they were encamped in comfortable quarters, and the wounded were provided for with the greatest care.