Thus the two chief pa.s.ses through the mountains were in the possession of the Union army.

While his corps was striving to dislodge the enemy from the stronghold, the gallant Reno was struck by a minie ball, and expired. The loss of this hero threw a gloom not only over his own corps, but throughout the army.

In the many battles in which he had taken a brilliant part, he had won an enviable fame, and his private virtues and kindly qualities of heart added l.u.s.tre to the brilliancy of his military record.

While the fight was in progress in Crampton Pa.s.s, the booming of guns at Harper's Ferry, only seven miles distant, told us of an attempt, on the part of the rebels, to capture that important point; and while we lay upon our arms on the morning of the 15th, two miles nearer than we were on the day before, the firing was heard to be still more fierce. Our Sixth corps was ordered to press forward to the relief of the beleaguered place; but before we had started the firing suddenly died away. General Franklin concluded that the place had been surrendered; and his conclusion was verified by reconnoissances. So the corps remained in Pleasant Valley, at rest, all of the 15th and 16th.

The surrender of Harper's Ferry was a terrible blow to our cause. Had it continued in our possession it must have insured, with any respectable energy on the part of our commanders, the destruction of the rebel army in its retreat. As it was, our loss was over eleven thousand men, and a vast amount of war material.

Of course, the surrender of Harper's Ferry, at this critical period, was owing directly to the imbecility and cowardice, not to say treachery, of the officers in command at Harper's Ferry and on Maryland Heights. But, while we condemn the weakness and cowardice of these commanders, can we relieve from a share in the responsibility, the general who marched his army in pursuit of the enemy at a snail pace, traveling but six miles a day upon an average, when by a few brisk marches this important point might have been reinforced?

Early on the morning of the 17th, the Sixth corps was on its way, hastening to the scene of conflict which had commenced on the banks of Antietam creek. A part of the Seventy-seventh had const.i.tuted one-third of the picket line which had extended across the valley between the corps and Harper's Ferry.

These companies, by a hard march, much of it at double quick, succeeded in overtaking the division just as the Third brigade was making a charge over ground already thrice won and lost by Sumner's troops. Without waiting to form the companies, the detachment joined the command, and, all out of breath and faint from their forced march, rushed with their companies against the foe.

CHAPTER XIV.

THE BATTLE OF ANTIETAM.

The Valley of the Antietam--Gathering of the hosts--The battle-field--The battle commenced--Splendid fighting of Hooker's forces--Successes and reverses of Sumner's troops--Timely arrival of the Sixth corps--A gallant charge--Losses of the corps--Burnside's attack--Hours of suspense--The enemy defeated at all points--Retreat of the rebels--Scenes on the battle-field--At the hospitals--At Sharpsburgh--A division of militia--Couch's division joins the Sixth corps--Visit of the President--Recruits--Energy at the north--At rest--Want of clothing--Stuart's raid--Delays--Clear Spring--General Brooks.

Among the delightful and fertile valleys which beautify the State of Maryland, none is more charming than the one through which the Antietam winds its tortuous course. Looking from some elevation down upon its green fields, where herds of sleek cattle graze, its yellow harvests glowing and ripening in the September sun; its undulating meadows and richly laden orchards; its comfortable farm houses, some standing out boldly upon eminences, which rise here and there, others half hidden by vines or fruit trees; the ranges of hills, rising on either side of the stream, diversified by charming vales or deep gullies; the turnpikes winding along the sides of the hills and through the valleys; the lovely stream itself, now flowing smoothly over its dark bed and anon tumbling noisily in rapids over a stony bottom, winding here far up to one range of hills and then turning back to kiss the base of the other; the whole scene is one of surpa.s.sing beauty, upon which the eye rests with untiring delight. Who would have selected this lovely valley as the scene of one of the most b.l.o.o.d.y struggles ever recorded? Who, looking down from some height of land on the morning of the 13th of September, would have dreamed that those stacks of grain, which dotted the fields here and there, would soon become the only protection from the heat of the sun and the storm of battle, to thousands of wounded, bleeding men?

or, that from those lovely groves of oak and maple, now reposing like spots of beauty upon the landscape, were to belch forth fire and smoke, carrying destruction to thousands? Yet, here on these smiling fields, and among these delightful groves, one of the grand battles which should decide the march of events in the history, not only of our own country but of the world, was to be fought. These green pastures were to be stained with blood, and these peaceful groves marred and torn by shot and sh.e.l.l.

Driven from the towns along the Potomac, from Frederick, from Hagerstown, and from Boonsboro; and forced from the strong pa.s.ses in the South Mountains, the detached portions of the rebel army were concentrated along the banks of the Antietam creek, in the vicinity of the little town of Sharpsburgh. Hither Jackson and Longstreet, Hill and Stuart, with their hosts, had gathered to offer combined resistance to the Union army; boastfully proclaiming that now, upon northern soil, they would hurl our army to final destruction. One hundred thousand men, flushed with recent victories, and eager for one grand crowning success, proudly defied the Union army.

Their position was well chosen. A line of steep hills, forming a half circle, with the convexity in front, rising at some distance back from the creek, and nearly parallel with it, afforded admirable advantages for posting batteries, in such a manner as to sweep the plain below, from right to left. Upon their left, wooded fields afforded protection to their infantry; while upon their right, the undulating nature of the grounds near the base of the hills, covered them from the fire of our guns. In their rear was Sharpsburgh; and two fine roads leading to the Potomac, afforded safe lines of retreat in case of disaster. From the crest of the hills, on which Lee had thus posted his army, the ground sloped gently back; concealing the movements of his forces from the view of the army in their front, allowing them to maneuver un.o.bserved by their opponents. Owing also to the form of their line of battle, it was an easy matter to throw troops from one part to another. Thus, strongly posted and confidently antic.i.p.ating victory, they waited the approach of the Union army.

Our own forces were also gathering toward this point. Richardson's division of the Second corps, pressing closely upon the heels of the retreating rebels, had pa.s.sed through Boonsboro and Keedeysville, and had overtaken them here.

Porter, with his regulars, was close at hand, and took position. Then came Burnside, with his favorite Ninth corps; and the white-haired veteran, Sumner, with troops worthy of their leader; fighting Joe Hooker and his gallant men; and Mansfield, with Banks' corps. The afternoon and most of the night was spent in getting into position. Brisk skirmishes were occurring with sufficient frequency to excite the men on both sides; but no general engagement took place. The morning of the 16th found our army ready to give battle. On our right was Hooker; then Sumner with his own and the Twelfth, Mansfield's corps; and far to the left was Burnside. Porter's corps, secure behind an elevation in the rear, was held in reserve.

The night had pa.s.sed with but now and then a little picket firing; but all felt that, before many hours, must commence a battle, which must determine the fate at least of that campaign.

Crossing the Antietam, in front of the line of our army, were three bridges. The first, on the Hagerstown road; the next on the road to Sharpsburgh; and the third on the left, three miles below, on the road from Harper's Ferry to Sharpsburgh.

This last bridge, crossed the stream at a point where steep and high hills crowded closely on every side; the summits of those on the western side of the stream, crowned with rebel batteries, and their steeply falling sides covered with infantry. Over the first of these bridges, on the right, Hooker was to cross his forces; while on the left, Burnside was to attempt to dislodge the enemy from his commanding position. Far in the rear, a prominent hill rose above the surrounding country; here was a signal station, and here the commander of the army established his quarters. Hour after hour of the 16th pa.s.sed away, the two armies facing each other, watching and waiting; troops moving this way and that, maneuvering like two giant wrestlers, each willing to try the movements and feel the gripe of the other before coming to the sharp grapple. At four o'clock, Hooker crossed his corps and occupied a position on the west side of the creek, and Mansfield soon followed; a little fighting, but not severe, and then darkness closed over the scene again. The skirmishes and artillery practice here, developed, to the quick eye of General Hooker, the position of the enemy in his front, and their plan of defense. Satisfied with this knowledge, he was willing to allow his corps to rest until morning. Our lines were now very near those of the rebels; so near that the pickets of the opposing forces could hear conversation from one line to the other.

At an early hour on the morning of the 17th, the great battle commenced in earnest. Hooker formed his line with Doubleday on the right, Meade in the center, and Ricketts on the left. Opposed to him was Stonewall Jackson's corps. First, Meade's Pennsylvania reserves, of Hooker's corps, opened upon the enemy, and in a few moments the firing became rapid and general along the line of both Meade's and Rickett's divisions. The rebel line of battle was just beyond the woods, in a cornfield. The hostile lines poured into each other more and more deadly volleys; batteries were brought up on each side which did terrible execution. Each line stood firm and immovable. Although great gaps were made in them, they were closed up, and the opposing forces continued to pour fearful destruction into each other's ranks. General Hooker, riding everywhere along the front line, knew exactly the position and the work of every regiment in his command. Cheer after cheer greeted him as he pa.s.sed along the line, inspiring the men by his presence. Thus for half an hour the two lines stood face to face in deadly conflict; at length the general directed a battery to be placed in a commanding position, and the sh.e.l.ls and shrapnel were seen to work fearful havoc in the rebel ranks. The gray line wavered; then back through the cornfield and over the fences the confederates rushed, seeking shelter from the terrible storm, under cover of the woods, on the other side of the field. "Forward!" shouted General Hooker, and his divisions pressed rapidly through the cornfield, up to the very edge of the wood, while the welkin rang with their cheers. Here, the fleeing foe, reinforced by fresh troops, made a determined stand. Terrific volleys poured from the woods, thinning out the Union ranks at a fearful rate. Unable to sustain the deadly fire, they fell back--this time the rebels following with yells and shouts; but before the cornfield was crossed, our troops made another stand, and the swarthy foe was brought to bay; yet the thinned line seemed hardly able to sustain the fearful shock much longer.

Hooker, fearing that his center was doomed to destruction, sent to his right for a brigade, although his right was hard pressed and in danger of being flanked.

The fresh brigade pressed steadily to the front, and the rebel line again fell back to the woods. Mansfield's corps now came to the support of the right wing, and well did those troops, so lately demoralized at Bull Run, stand their ground. General Mansfield received here his mortal wound.

It was at this time, when Hooker saw his forces gaining a decided advantage and felt that their part of the work was well done, that a rifle ball pa.s.sed through his foot inflicting a painful wound. Lamenting that he could not remain to see the end of what he hoped would prove a great victory, he left the field. The battle lulled at this point; but in the center it raged with terrible energy. There, Sumner the white-haired veteran, led his corps into the very jaws of death. If he seemed reckless of the lives of his men, he had no more care of his own.

Across the ploughed ground, over ditches and fences, with unsurpa.s.sed ardor, sweeping over all obstacles, the corps pushed forward, driving the enemy before it; but the right became hard pressed, and a terrible fire on that part of the line and on the center, forced the corps back.

Again the ground was taken; and again the enemy, with wild yells of triumph, drove our men back. Still determined to win, the veteran hero ordered a third charge; and the third time the field was ours, but only to be lost again. The brave General Sedgwick, who then led one division of Sumner's corps, whom we were afterward proud to call the commander of the Sixth corps, thrice wounded, was at length obliged to leave the field. Richardson and Crawford were carried wounded to the hospitals.

It was at this critical moment, when Sumner's troops, weary and almost out of ammunition, were for the third time repulsed; the remnants of the shattered regiments no longer able to resist the overwhelming forces opposed to them; the artillery alone, unsupported, holding the enemy for a moment in check; that the Sixth corps, our second division in advance, arrived upon the field.

The scene before us was awful. On the left, as far as the eye could reach, the lines of the contending forces, stretching over hills and through valleys, stood face to face; in places, not more than thirty yards apart. The roar of musketry rolled along the whole extent of the battle-field. The field upon which we had now entered, thrice hotly contested, was strewed with the bodies of friend and foe.

Without waiting to take breath, each regiment as soon as it arrives on the field, is ordered to charge independently of the others. The third brigade is first; and first of its regiments, the Twentieth New York, with their sabre bayonets, are ready; and the shout, "Forward, double quick!" rings along the line. The Germans waver for a moment; but presently with a yell they rush down the hill, suddenly receiving a volley from a rebel line concealed behind a fence; but the Germans, regardless of the storm of bullets, rush forward; the rebels breaking and flying to the rear in confusion, while the Germans hotly pursue them. Next, on the left of the Twentieth, the gallant Seventh Maine charges; rushing forward into the midst of the cornfield, they, too, are met by concealed foes. Although they are concealed from our view, the crashing of musketry tells us of the struggle which they maintain.

The gallant regiment makes its way down the slope, almost to the earthworks of the enemy, when the men throw themselves upon the ground behind a rail fence. Here, subjected to the sh.e.l.ls from the Union and rebel batteries, the regiment can neither advance or retreat; but our batteries, finding that their shots are as fatal to our men as to the rebels, allow the remaining fragments of the regiment to retire from the perilous position.

On the right of the Seventh Maine comes the glorious Forty-ninth and our own Seventy-seventh, Captain Babc.o.c.k in command. On the right of all is the old Thirty-third, within supporting distance. The men of the Seventy-seventh rush forward over their fallen comrades, making toward a small school house which stands upon the Sharpsburgh and Hagerstown turnpike, behind which is a grove swarming with rebel troops. Our boys are almost on the road, when, at a distance of less than thirty yards, they find themselves confronted by overwhelming numbers, who pour a withering fire into their ranks. The Seventy-seventh receives the fire n.o.bly, and, although far ahead of all the other regiments, stands its ground and returns the fire with spirit, although it is but death to remain thus in the advance. The brave color-bearer, Joseph Murer, falls, shot through the head; but the colors scarcely touch the ground when they are seized and again flaunted in the face of the enemy. Volley after volley crashes through our ranks; our comrades fall on every side; yet the little band stands firm as a rock, refusing to yield an inch. At this juncture, General Smith, riding along the line and discovering the advanced and unprotected position of the regiment, exclaims, "There's a regiment gone," and sends an aide to order it to retire. The order was timely, for the rebels were planting a battery within twenty yards of the left of the regiment, which would, in a moment longer, have swept it to destruction.

The regiment reformed behind the crest, in line with the other regiments of the brigade, all of which had been forced to fall back; but the line held was far in advance of that held by Sumner's troops when the division arrived. Thirty-three of the little band had fallen; they were less than two hundred men when they came upon the field. In the Seventh Maine the loss was still greater; of the one hundred and seventy men who went into the fight, one-half were killed or wounded; more than eighty of those n.o.ble forms were prostrated like the slashings in their own forests. The Thirty-third lost fifty in killed and wounded. The total loss to our Third brigade was three hundred and forty-three; of the Second division, three hundred and seventy-three; of the corps, four hundred and thirty-eight.

Our men lay down behind the ridge to protect themselves from the rebel batteries; yet even here the sh.e.l.ls came, carrying death to many of our number. The Vermont brigade was sent to the a.s.sistance of French's division, who, having expended their ammunition, were making feeble resistance to the enemy. The Vermonters behaved with their usual gallantry, resisting the advance of the enemy; and although frequently subjected to the fire of artillery, they held their ground bravely. The brigade was composed of men who could always be depended on to do what they were ordered to do.

The advent of the Sixth corps upon the field had decided the contest upon the right of the line, and after the first charge by the Third brigade the battle lulled. Of all the brilliant charges made in the army on that memorable day, none was more gallant or more important in its results than this n.o.ble charge of the Third brigade of Smith's division.

Although the infantry on both sides became comparatively quiet, artillery thundered from every eminence in possession of our own or the enemy's batteries. Sh.e.l.ls and cannister tore through the Union ranks, making in parts of the line fearful havoc. Thus, for nine long hours, our Sixth corps endured this fiery ordeal, when darkness closed over the field of strife.

Meanwhile, on the left, Burnside became hotly engaged. At nine o'clock in the morning, his troops moved down toward the stone bridge, over which they hoped to cross. The hills on either side slope down almost to the water's edge; the road leading to the bridge winding through a ravine, and then on the other side ascending through another ravine to the highlands. No sooner had the head of the column descended into this amphitheater of hills, than the rebels opened a destructive fire from behind defenses which they had thrown up along the hillsides. Rifle pits, and breastworks of rails and stones, concealed thousands of infantry, who, from their secure position, poured volley after volley into the advancing column; while batteries, placed upon the heights, brought an enfilading fire upon the bridge and its approaches. In the face of this reception, the Ninth corps formed in line of battle. One brigade with fixed bayonets charged upon the bridge; but the concentrated fire of the enemy forced it back. Charge after charge was ordered and executed by different portions of the command with like success. At length a battery was brought to bear directly upon the enemy's position at the farthest end of the bridge, and, aided by these guns, fresh troops charged with great enthusiasm, carrying the bridge and planting their colors on the opposite side of the stream. Sturgis'

division immediately advanced up the slope, driving the enemy before it.

Meanwhile Rodman's division had succeeded, after a desperate fight, in crossing the stream below, and had also gained a position along the crest of the hills. The enemy having the range perfectly, made the position along the crest of the hills untenable, and the men were forced to fall back a little; lying close upon the ground to avoid the sh.e.l.ls that burst about them.

At length, at three o'clock, General Burnside ordered a general advance.

The divisions moved in fine order, but were soon met by the enemy in overpowering numbers. The whole line became hotly engaged. All the reserves were brought into action, and still the rebels poured upon the Union men in increasing numbers; pressing their flank and turning the attack into a doubtful defense. It seemed impossible for the corps to hold its position against the overwhelming force opposed to it. At this juncture General Burnside sent to General McClellan for aid. Porter's troops were still in reserve; but McClellan refused to relieve the hardly pressed corps. Again Burnside sends word, "I cannot hold my position half an hour longer, unless I am reinforced;" and again the appeal is met with refusal. Contrary to his own expectations, Burnside's forces held their ground until darkness put an end to the strife.

Thus our own Sixth corps, and Burnside's corps, held the ground they had each by most desperate fighting wrested from the hands of the enemy; and in spite of the peril which had threatened the right, when Hooker's braves were forced back, the center, where Sumner's brave men fell back for the third time with empty cartridge boxes, and the left, where Burnside was so hardly pressed, the advantage remained with our army; and the weary soldiers lay down in the expectation of renewing the battle in the morning.

Their valor had saved them from defeat; they hoped to make the battle that should come, a complete victory.

But the battle was ended. Toward morning, it was known to officers of our corps that the rebels were moving back, and the fact was reported; but no attention was paid to it. A truce, under pretense of burying the dead, gave the rebels a quiet day, in which to prepare for their escape, by sending their trains and much of their artillery to the rear; and on the night of the 18th, the whole rebel army disappeared. So this memorable and sanguinary battle ended. A defeat for the rebels, but not the decided victory to our arms that could have been hoped for.

The Second division of the Sixth corps was relieved soon after noon of the 18th by Couch's division, which was soon afterward joined to the Sixth corps. Until now our corps had consisted of but two divisions, the First and Second. Our men were glad to fall back enough to allow them to cook their coffee once more, and they proceeded to the work of preparing a good meal with great spirit.

The scene on the battle-field was past description. The mangled forms of our own comrades lay stretched upon the ground, side by side with those of the rebels. On almost every rod of ground over one hundred acres, the dead and wounded, some clad in the Union blue and some in confederate gray, were lying. A ghastly sight, presenting all the horrible features of death which are to be seen on such a field. At one point in our own front, for more than half a mile, the rebels lay so thickly as almost to touch each other. On the field where Hooker's men had won and lost the field, the dead and dying were scattered thickly among the broken cornstalks, their eyes protruding and their faces blackened by the sun.

Wherever the lines of battle had surged to and fro, these vestiges of the terrible work were left. In the edge of the wood, where the rebels had made a stand against Hooker's advancing divisions, the bodies lay in perfect line, as though they had fallen while on dress parade. Further to the left there was a narrow road, not more than fifteen feet wide, with high fences on either side. Here a regiment of rebels was posted; when our batteries getting an enfilading fire upon them, and the infantry at the same time opening a murderous fire, the regiment was literally destroyed; not more than twenty of their number escaping.

Their bodies filled the narrow road. Some were shot while attempting to get over the fence; and their remains hung upon the boards. A more fearful picture than we saw here, could not be conceived.

Broken caissons, wheels, dismounted guns, thousands of muskets, blankets, haversacks and canteens, were scattered thickly over the field; and hundreds of slain horses, bloated and with feet turned toward the sky, added to the horror of the scene.

While the excitement of battle lasts, and we hear the roar of artillery, and the shock of contending armies, the terrible reality of the occasion hardly presents itself to our minds, and it is only when we survey the b.l.o.o.d.y field, strewed with the mangled, lifeless remains of friend and foe, or walk through the hospitals, where the unfortunate victims of battle writhe in the agony of their wounds, that we realize the terrible nature of a great battle.

Sickening as is the sight of the battle-field, the scenes about the hospitals are worse, except to those who are actually engaged in ministering to the relief of the wounded. To these the excitement and labor incident to their duties, crowd out the thoughts of the ghastly surroundings. They see only so many demands upon them for a.s.sistance, and have no time to indulge in sentimental emotions.

Here in the rear of the army for miles, was a succession of hospitals.

Every house, and barn, and haystack, formed the nucleus of a hospital, where men, shot through the head, through the limbs, through the body; with every conceivable variety of wounds, lay groaning in anguish.

Surgeons toiled day and night with never lagging zeal to relieve these sufferings, but all their labor could only afford slight relief. The labors of medical officers after a great battle are immense, and there is no respite from their toils so long as a wounded man remains uncared for. While others find repose from the fatigues of battle in sleep, the surgeons are still at work; there is no sleep for them so long as work remains to be done.

The rebel army had fallen back; yet a skirmish line had been left to cover the movement. At length even this suddenly disappeared, and, firing a few solid shots, as a parting salute, the enemy took a final leave of the field. Our forces were ordered on. We pa.s.sed over the scene of carnage, where hundreds of dead lay still unburied; and pioneers were on every part of the field throwing the mangled, disfigured forms into shallow graves. Along the roadsides, under the fences, and where the confederate hospitals had been, still these gory objects met our view.

We reached Sharpsburgh, and here the evidences of the terrible conflict were to be seen everywhere. Houses riddled by sh.e.l.ls and bullets; some of them destroyed by fire, and some battered into shapeless ma.s.ses; the streets filled with disabled wagons; horses galloping about without riders; knapsacks, guns and equipments cast away in the hasty flight; churches filled with rebel wounded; all helped to make up a scene of destruction such as has been rarely witnessed. The people of the village welcomed us as their deliverers, and brought water, and such other refreshments as they had been able to conceal from the rebels. We pa.s.sed the village and bivouacked for the night.