some demonstrations from a supposed cavalry attack, it was moved back toward the wood and formed square to resist cavalry. Meanwhile Battery B was sent to contend with two batteries and soon silenced them. The Iron Brigade would have captured them, but the attack of Meade and Gibbon had failed, and the enemy, with loud yells, was following back these divisions. The Iron Brigade was moved by the right flank to ward off this danger, but the work was done by other troops. In this movement a cannon shot took off the head of David Reed of B, and wounded several others. The enemy had the range again with fatal effect. A fence was in the regiment's front with ditches on each side. Colonel Morrow gave orders to lie down. The men went into the ditch with a plunge pell-mell, officers and men alike. It was well they did so for they were under a terrible crossfire. Remaining there till about dark, another order came to move by the left flank to a position that would be under cover of some woods, where it was supposed they would be out of the reach of the enemy's guns. The most of the Iron Brigade was behind a ditch running from the Bowling Green road to the wood on the river bank. In the last movement of the Twenty-fourth a single shot took off the heads of Lieutenant David Birrell and three others; killing also another and wounding three more, all in Company K. The Twenty-fourth regiment lay down in the woods on the left of the line, and the grape flew lively over the tree tops. In a short time, they marched back again to the fence where they lay on their arms in the ditch all night, the enemy from several pieces of artillery continuing to hurl canister over their heads far into the night. It was the regiment's first fight. Nobly had it stood the fiery ordeal of its bloody baptism without the poor privilege of returning an answering shot. It had won honor for itself and old Wayne County, but sorrow filled every breast. It was truly a mournful. event when the Captain of Company K, that night, searched for the trunkless head of his son upon the battlefield, while the canister was whistling above him, and placed it with the young boy's remains for burial! Lieutenant Birrell and the latter, Sergeant Wallace W. Wight had slept together the night before and laid plans for the day's contest. Alas, for human hopes! their dreams of youth were brief and they again slept side by side, in bloody graves. ON THE FEDERAL RIGHT-CHARGE OF THE IRISH BRIGADE. The attack by Sumner on the extreme right began about II o'clock, when his forces deployed from the city over the plain and up the elevation in front of Marye's Height, but without avail. The whole field was swept so effectually by converging crossfires from batteries along the semi-circular crest, that a chicken could scarcely get through alive. It seemed folly to march men up into such a vortex of death- a movement which every soldier and officer except the Commander, believed to be useless. Three unsuccessful attempts had been made to scale these Heights, yet Burnside insisted "That crest must be carried to-night," a resolve born of desperation, not of judgement or good generalship. Soon after, loud cheers were heard at the front; not the "rebel yell," but from the proud ranks of Thomas Francis Meagher's Irish Brigade. With sleeves rolled up, bearing aloft the green flag of Ireland and the Star Spangled Banner, they moved upon the stone wall in that valley of death. For several minutes not a gun was fired on either side. It was a forlorn hope and the desperate charge was beheld with interest and wonder by friend and foe. As they neared the vortex of death, a hundred guns opened upon them. Closing up their ranks, they double-quicked for the Heights, but vain task! with fearful loss the gallant charge was a failure. Next, Hooker was ordered in. Surveying the field and consulting those who had preceded him in the attempt he spurs his horse back to Burnside and urges him to cease the attack. But the latter insists, and Humphrey's division, with empty muskets, 4,000 strong, formed for the charge. In half an hour, 1,800 of them lay dead and wounded on that bloody plain. Darkness dropped its curtain on the tragic contest. Far better had the bloody efforts ceased after the first assault disclosed the impregnability of the enemy's position, and the fearful slaughter that followed would have been averted. That night was very cold, and mortal can never know the agony and suffering of the wounded on that crimsoned field. No aid could reach them that night nor the next day, and as the dead stiffened, they were rolled into heaps to protect those still living. A woman residing near the scene said the field at night was blue, but the next morning it was white, as the dead had been stripped of their clothing by the enemy. Burnside resolved to renew the fight the next morning, leading his old Ninth Corps himself, but the unanimous voice of his Generals prevailed against it and the tragedy was ended. Returning to the Iron Brigade: by the blunder of an Aide, General Meredith was relieved by Colonel Cutler of the Sixth Wisconsin, who slightly changed the line of the Twenty-fourth to avoid an enfilading fire. The Seventh Wisconsin was on its left and the other regiments in a second line 200 paces in the rear, which position was occupied during Sunday and Monday. During this time a portion of the Twenty-fourth was sent to the front on picket. There was sharp skirmishing but no engagement, and at intervals a brisk cannonading from the enemy's batteries. Their position was a strong one upon hills covered with a thick growth of wood, protected in front and flank by creeks, marshes and almost impenetrable underbrush. The whole was armed with batteries, ready to repel any effort to storm their stronghold. On Monday the 15th, General Franklin desiring to know the location and force of the extreme right of the foe, gave Colonel Morrow permission to make a reconnoissance to the Massaponax. In full view of the enemy, with Companies C and I and a few of E, he performed the task which resulted in much valuable information. The movement was hazardous, as they pushed nearly to the enemy's lines and might have been made prisoners easily. The Colonel and men received the thanks of General Franklin on the field for their work. On Monday the dead of the Twenty-fourth were gathered and the last sad rites performed. They were buried near where they fell, near the banks of the Rappahannock, on the field yet red with their blood. At half-past nine on Monday night, amid a rain storm, silently and secretly, not above a breath, came the order to pack up and be ready to move. At midnight, leaving the battle ground behind, and having placed pine boughs on the pontoon bridges to prevent the rumble of moving artillery, they quietly re-crossed the river at a quickstep, and moved up the hill which they had lately descended so full of hope. On Tuesday morning the whole Union. army was safely on the north bank of the river without the loss of a gun. In the recent battle the Union army numbered 113,000 men, and the Confederate 78,500. The Union loss in killed, wounded and missing, was 12,653; the Confederate loss, 5,377. The common voice of mankind will condemn such sacrifice without any gain. Within five weeks after a change of commanders this army lost nearly as BATTLE OF FREDERICKSBURG ON THE LEFT, DECEMBER 13, 1862-REPRODUCED FROM A POORLY PRESERVED WAR-TIME SKETCH. many in action as was its total loss in action on the Peninsula. Yet, we do not wholly censure Burnside for the result. He protested that he was not equal to the command when it was forced upon him. The newspaper generals, too, must share the responsibility for a public sentiment which demanded that an end be put to a so-called "inactivity and delay," utterly regardless of all preparations of the army and essential conditions for success. It was Bull Run re-enacted. The new commander must fight a battle or suffer reproach and contumely from "shin-toasters" at home firesides. He fought and failed. Most generously did he assume all the responsibility, which somewhat blunted the keen edge of criticism. His plan of massing on the strongest point of the enemy was a tried military tactic. Greater generals had tried it, and both failed and succeeded. By it Napoleon won his victories; yet it failed him at Aspern and Waterloo. By it Austerlitz, the Bridge of Lodi, and Wagram were won; and later, Magenta and Solferino. Lee adopted it at Malvern Hill and Gettysburg and lost. Burnside had used it at Roanoke and Newbern and won. His heart was in the cause for which he fought, whatever his error in judgment or execution. It is idle to speculate on what might have been. Defeated and despondent, the army resumed its position on the north bank of the Rappahannock. LOSSES OF THE TWENTY-FOURTH MICHIGAN. The following were killed on the battle-field: H. REES WHITING, 66 Captain WILLIAM A. OWEN, in spine, by concussion of shell, G Corporal Daniel McPherson, in hand, C 44 A B K K C Corporal Orson B. Curtis, D, lost left arm fighting in Third Corporal John Tait, in shoulder, Private John Bryant, arm amputated, Private Fernando D. Forbes, in shoulder, G I K |