While the Moose was winning her laurels, the other boats of the fleet were not failing to enact their regularly assigned part of the programme, which was to guard the fords below the island, and prevent any roaming squads of the rebels crossing to the much-wished-for Virginia shore.
It is said that some of Morgan’s men sang, “Oh! carry me back to Ole Virginny,” with a pathos and sincerity of tone quite suggestive, not, to say touching, and it certainly cannot be denied that Captain Fitch “went for them” with a degree of alacrity which proved his entire willingness to assist them as far as he could.
The engagement was kept up pretty briskly, and the rebels, as a body, effectually prevented from crossing into Virginia; the entire force was most gallantly fought, defeated, and utterly routed. A large number of the rebels were captured, with all of their arms, guns, and accoutrements; and a great many of their horses, and the plunder they had carried away from the towns they passed through. Over one thousand and seven hundred of the guerrilla band was computed to have fallen into the hands of the Union soldiers; and they admitted a loss of two hundred killed and wounded on the field. The Union loss was not more than one fourth of that number. The chief source of regret to the National troops was, of course, that the guerrilla general had effected his escape: but they had one and all fully determined that he should not be allowed to roam at large for any length of time, nor have any opportunity of collecting together another band from the remnants of his scattered army. Accordingly, the pursuit was kept up vigorously, until on the 26th of July, the daring guerrilla leader was made prisoner near New Lisbon, where, with a small remnant of his men, he had tried to cross the river. The event was announced in the following way by General Shackelford, in a dispatch sent to General Burnside:
“By the blessing of Almighty God, I have succeeded in capturing General John H. Morgan, Colonel Clicke, and the remainder of the command, amounting to about four hundred prisoners.”
THE DRAFT RIOTS IN NEW YORK CITY.
July 13–15, 1863.
Upon the 15th day of June, President Lincoln issued a proclamation calling for a draft of three hundred thousand men to fill the ranks of the Union army. The proclamation was received with murmurs of discontent from large masses of the populace in every city of the North; and the murmurs proved to be only the foreshadowings of very serious disturbances in New York, Boston, Brooklyn, Philadelphia, Troy, Buffalo, and in short, every city of importance. In New York, the draft commenced on Saturday, July 11th. It had previously been announced through the press, that on this day the ballots for one district would be publicly counted at the corner of Forty-sixth street and Third avenue, and that immediately afterward the wheel would be turned, and the draft begin.
Quite a large crowd was assembled at an early hour at the office of the Provost-Marshal of the Ninth Congressional District; and at about nine o’clock Assistant Provost-Marshal Charles E. Jenkins stepped upon the table and read out his orders in relation to the draft, and the manner in which it was to be conducted. Upon the table was a large wheel, containing the ballots, on which were inscribed the names of all those who had been enrolled; one of the enrolling clerks, having been blindfolded, then proceeded to make the drawings of the names. The business began and proceeded pleasantly, and with no demonstrations even of ill-humor; and at the close of the day, there was no cause for apprehending a disturbance growing out of the draft. But so severe were the apprehensions of many of the working classes, lest they should be forced from their homes, that secret associations had been formed to resist the draft, even at the cost of bloodshed. The next day being Sunday, these parties took occasion to meet, and to make resolutions to resist upon Monday, to the utmost extremity. Accordingly, upon the morning of the 13th, a very large crowd had gathered about the corner of Forty-sixth street and Third avenue, and for a short time the business of the day proceeded quietly, and without any sign of disturbance; from seventy-five to one hundred names had been drawn from the wheel and announced, when suddenly the report of a pistol was heard in the street.
This seemed to be the signal for an attack upon the office, for almost upon the instant a perfect shower of brickbats, paving stones, and other missiles, were hurled from the street into the building, a proceeding which took everybody by surprise. Following the shower of stones came an immense crowd, who poured into the office, carrying everything before them. The wheel containing the remaining ballots of the Twenty-second Ward was carried by two of the clerks to the top story of the house, and placed in a room, the inmates of which refused to have it there, when it was placed in the hall. The Provost-Marshal, Commissioner, Surgeon, engrossing clerks, with the members of the press, effected their escape, by a back door. Captain Jenkins clambering a fence, and secreting himself in the next house until a favorable moment arrived, when he made his way home.
One of the clerks who endeavored to save some of the papers, was seized by the crowd, the papers taken from him by force, and torn in pieces. The mob now had possession of the building. In a few moments afterward, a man appeared with a can of turpentine, which he poured on the floor of the office, and, setting fire to it, the room was soon in a blaze. All this time the mob were breaking up the pavement and assaulting the police and men attached to the office with stones.
The fire which had been kindled in the back office, spread rapidly to the upper part of the house, the flames in a little time communicating to the three houses on the north side, which were of equal size with the one occupied by the Provost-Marshal.