French's and Richardson's Attack.The diagram shows the positions occupied by French and Richardson, also by Franklin's and Porter's corps.1 French's Division in brigades.2 Richardson's " " "3 Richardson's batteries, with Sykes, of Porter's corps, in support.4 Taft's and Weber's heavy batteries, and Porter's corps.5 Slocum's and Smith's Divisions, Franklin's corps.6 Sedgwick's.B Boonesboro' Bridge.H D. H. Hill.Hd Hood in reserve.L Longstreet.M Muma's house, and burial-ground.P Dr. Piper's.R Rulet's.Smith relieved French in the afternoon.The roads are narrow carriage-ways leading to the farm-houses.
French's and Richardson's Attack.
The diagram shows the positions occupied by French and Richardson, also by Franklin's and Porter's corps.
1 French's Division in brigades.
2 Richardson's " " "
3 Richardson's batteries, with Sykes, of Porter's corps, in support.
4 Taft's and Weber's heavy batteries, and Porter's corps.
5 Slocum's and Smith's Divisions, Franklin's corps.
6 Sedgwick's.
B Boonesboro' Bridge.
H D. H. Hill.
Hd Hood in reserve.
L Longstreet.
M Muma's house, and burial-ground.
P Dr. Piper's.
R Rulet's.
Smith relieved French in the afternoon.
The roads are narrow carriage-ways leading to the farm-houses.
The Rebels occupying Muma's house and barn annoy Sumner's artillerymen, who in turn aimtheir guns at the buildings. A shell bursts in the barn and sets it on fire. A black cloud rises. The flames burst forth. The Rebels, finding theplace too hot for them, apply the torch to the house, and retreat to Rulet's orchard. The dark pillar of cloud, the bright flames beneath, the constant flashing of the artillery, and the hillsides alive with thousands of troops, their banners waving, their bayonets gleaming, is a scene of terrible grandeur.
Weber's brigade advances steadily, throwing down the fences, scaling the stone-walls, preserving a regular line. Not so with Morris's, which is thrown into confusion. The time has come to strike a great blow.
"Tell General Kimball to move to the front, and come in on the left of Weber," was French's order to General Kimball.
The brigade swings towards the south, past Morris's brigade, enters the ravine, and pushes on towards Rulet's.
It is a magnificent movement. Richardson at the moment is crowning the hill south of the brook, while Tidball's battery is throwing shells up the ravine into the orchard beyond Rulet's.
The hills are covered with troops. Far up the hillside in Rulet's, Muma's, and Dr. Piper's cornfields are Longstreet's and D. H. Hill's troops. On the hills south of Sharpsburg is A. P. Hill, just arriving from Harper's Ferry. The Rebel infantry is behind the stone walls and rail fences. All of the hills are smoking with artillery. Jackson's batteries by the church are still thundering at Howard, who, now that Sedgwick has been carried from the field, commands that division of Sumner's corps. Burnside's batteries by the bridge are all in operation.
Mr. Rulet and Mr. Muma live about half amile from the Hagerstown pike. A narrow path leads along the hillside to the pike. Just beyond Mr. Muma's, the road is sunk below the surface of the ground. It has been used many years, and has been washed by rains, forming a natural rifle-pit, in which D. H. Hill posts his first line. Between this pathway and the pike is a cornfield, in which he stations his second line. His artillery is planted on the knoll, higher up, near the turnpike.
It is but a few rods from Muma's to the road. "Bloody Lane," the inhabitants call it now. The distance from Rulet's is less. There is an apple-orchard west of Rulet's house. Beyond that the ground rises sharp and steep. It is a rounded knoll, sloping towards the west into the sunken path.
The line of advance taken by Weber carries him directly towards the smoking ruins of Muma's buildings, while Kimball passes between Muma's and Rulet's.
It is a gallant advance which they make. Weber's troops move over the mown field, past the burial-ground, leaping the fences. Some of the men pause a moment, rest their rifles on the rails and the tombstones, and take a long shot at the dark line in the cornfield. They cannot see the nearer line of Hill's division, lying close in the hidden road.
Kimball, a little farther south, joining his right to Weber's left, sweeps on in splendid order past Muma's spring-house, his left wing touching the apple-trees around Rulet's. The Rebel cannon on the hills are sending down a steady stream of shells. The Union batteries east of the Antietam—the twenty-pounder Parrotts—are throwing rifled shot in reply. Richardson's batteries on the hillock beyond the ravine are firing from the southeast, while Kirby, Owen, Thompson, and Bartlett, are raining all kinds of shot from the north. It is a tumultuous roar. Under cover of this tremendous fire, French moves up the hill. His men reach the crest, and stand within ten rods of the sunken road. There is a rail fence between them and the road. Suddenly, thousands of men seem to grow out of the ground. The long line rises. The Rebels thrust the muzzles of their muskets between the rails. The work of death begins. French's men, instead of fleeing from this unexpected foe, intrenched in so strong a position, rush with a loud hurrah towards the fence. Hundreds fall while running, but those who survive pour their fire into the road. The combatants are not ten paces apart. Hill's line in the road is consumed like a straw in a candle's flame. It melts like lead in a crucible. Officers and men go down, falling in heaps. The few who are left after the tremendous volleys flee into the cornfield, towards the turnpike. French's men are wild with the enthusiasm which comes with success. They tear away the rails, leap over the fence, plunge into the road, trampling down the dying and dead, over the second fence, into the cornfield, and rush upon the second line with uncontrollable fury, scattering it, breaking it, like a bundle of brittle fagots. It is a terrible struggle. There are hand to hand fights in the corn-rows; Union and Rebel fall together, literally in heaps, like sticks of wood tossed together by choppers!
"See the smoke how the lightning is cleaving asunder,Hark! the guns, peal and peal, how they boom in the thunder!From host to host with kindling sound,The shouting circle signals round;Ay, shout it forth to life or death,—Freer already breathes the breath!The war is waging, slaughter raging,And heavy through the reeking pallThe iron death-dice fall!Nearer they close—foes upon foes;'Ready!' from square to square it goes."They kneel as one man from flank to flank,And the sharp fire comes from the foremost rank.Many a soldier to earth is sent,Many a gap by the ball is rent;O'er the corpse before springs the hinder man,That the line may not fail to the fearless van.To the right, to the left, and around and around,Death whirls in its dance on the bloody ground.God's sunlight is quenched in the fiery fight,Over the host falls a brooding night!Brothers, God grant, when this life is o'er,In the life to come that we meet once more!"
"See the smoke how the lightning is cleaving asunder,Hark! the guns, peal and peal, how they boom in the thunder!From host to host with kindling sound,The shouting circle signals round;Ay, shout it forth to life or death,—Freer already breathes the breath!The war is waging, slaughter raging,And heavy through the reeking pallThe iron death-dice fall!Nearer they close—foes upon foes;'Ready!' from square to square it goes."They kneel as one man from flank to flank,And the sharp fire comes from the foremost rank.Many a soldier to earth is sent,Many a gap by the ball is rent;O'er the corpse before springs the hinder man,That the line may not fail to the fearless van.To the right, to the left, and around and around,Death whirls in its dance on the bloody ground.God's sunlight is quenched in the fiery fight,Over the host falls a brooding night!Brothers, God grant, when this life is o'er,In the life to come that we meet once more!"
"See the smoke how the lightning is cleaving asunder,Hark! the guns, peal and peal, how they boom in the thunder!From host to host with kindling sound,The shouting circle signals round;Ay, shout it forth to life or death,—Freer already breathes the breath!The war is waging, slaughter raging,And heavy through the reeking pallThe iron death-dice fall!Nearer they close—foes upon foes;'Ready!' from square to square it goes.
"They kneel as one man from flank to flank,And the sharp fire comes from the foremost rank.Many a soldier to earth is sent,Many a gap by the ball is rent;O'er the corpse before springs the hinder man,That the line may not fail to the fearless van.To the right, to the left, and around and around,Death whirls in its dance on the bloody ground.God's sunlight is quenched in the fiery fight,Over the host falls a brooding night!Brothers, God grant, when this life is o'er,In the life to come that we meet once more!"
While French was thus dealing with General D. H. Hill, Richardson was engaging Longstreet. Richardson crossed the Antietam about ten o'clock. He marched down the western bank, across the farm of Mr. Newkirch, crossing the little stream coming down from Rulet's.
He moved to gain the high knolls between Rulet's and the Boonesboro' road. Having crossedthe brook, he faced west, drove in the Rebel pickets, and ascended the nearest knoll.
All of Longstreet's batteries opened upon him, but his men moved round the hillock, through the hollows, and marched well up to the Rebel lines with little loss. General Meagher, with his Irish brigade, was on the right, the tip of its wing touching Rulet's garden. Caldwell's brigade was on the left, reaching down nearly to the Boonesboro' turnpike. Brooks's brigade was in reserve.
Longstreet's batteries were on the hills around Dr. Piper's, and his troops a part of them in the pathway, the upper end of which was held by D. H. Hill. His line was so formed, and such was the ground, that Caldwell, instead of swinging round upon Sharpsburg, was obliged to fall in rear of Meagher, and become a second line, instead of a part of the first.
It was eleven o'clock when Richardson moved forward. French was pouring in his volleys north of Rulet's, and now Meagher, climbing the knolls, and rushing up the ravines, came upon the Rebels in the road. It was a repetition, or rather a continuation, of the terrible scene then enacting a few rods further north,—hundreds falling at every discharge. The courage of the Irish brigade did not flag for an instant. They fought till their ammunition was exhausted. They drove the Rebels from the road and held it. Again and again Longstreet endeavored to recover it, but could not succeed.
General Richardson was wounded and carried from the field. General Meagher was bruised by the falling of his horse. His men worn, exhausted, half their number killed and wounded,were withdrawn. He retired by breaking ranks and filing to the rear, Caldwell's troops filing to the front at the same moment and taking their places. It was done as deliberately as a dress parade.
The ground towards the Boonesboro' pike is very much broken. There are numerous hillocks and ravines, cornfields, stone walls, and fences. Under shelter of these, Longstreet stealthily moved a division to attack Caldwell's right flank in the cornfield west of the sunken road. It was a part of the force attacking French. Brooks's brigade went upon the run up the ravine, and filled the gap between Caldwell and Kimball, and held it against all the assaults of the enemy.
On Caldwell's left, the sunken road winds among the hills. The Rebels still held that section. Colonel Barlow reconnoitered the ground. He commanded the Sixty-first and Sixty-fourth New York regiments. He ordered them to march by the left flank. They pushed out into the fields towards Sharpsburg, gained the rear of the Rebels still holding the road, and forced three hundred to surrender. He also captured their stand of colors.
There is once more a lull in the battle. Longstreet is making preparations to regain his lost ground. Having failed on French's right, by Rulet's, he renews the attack on the left. But Colonel Cross of the Fifth New Hampshire, who has watched with eagle eye the Indians of the western plains, who has tracked the grizzly bears of the Rocky Mountains, who is brave as well as vigilant, discovers the movement. It is the same which has been successful against Sedgwick.The left of Caldwell is far advanced towards Dr. Piper's, when Colonel Cross discovers the Rebel force making a rapid movement to gain a hill in his rear. He changes front, and moves his regiment to gain the hill. The two lines are within close musket range. They make a parallel movement, firing as they run. It is an exciting race. Colonel Cross cheers his men, and inspires them with his own untamable enthusiasm. He gains the hill, faces his troops towards the enemy, and delivers a volley. It checks their advance a moment, but, rallied by the officers, they rush on, charging up the hill. Cross, reinforced by the Eighty-first Pennsylvania, which has followed him, gives the word.
"At them, boys!" He leads the counter charge. His troops rush down the hill. The Rebels do not wait their coming, but break in confusion. Another stand of colors, those of the Fourth North Carolina, and more prisoners, are the trophies.
Again Longstreet tries to drive back the center, and regain the road; and again Barlow repulses him, charging up through the cornfield, almost up to the Hagerstown turnpike, and gaining Dr. Piper's house. Vincent's and Graham's batteries gallop to the hills south of Rulet's, wheel into position, and reply to the batteries on the hills along the turnpike, north of Piper's. But the Rebel batteries by the church enfilade the ground west of the sunken road. Hancock, who now commands Richardson's division, can hold his ground, but he cannot advance. Thus by one o'clock, Lee has been pushed from his advanced lines on the right and on the center. He still holds the rockyledges in the woods behind the church; he maintains his position along the turnpike, and holds the lower bridge, where Burnside is endeavoring to force a crossing. All the while, there is a continuous cannonade by Poffenberger's, by Miller's, and in front of the church. There are occasional volleys of musketry, and a rattling fire from the skirmishers.
It was past noon when General Franklin's corps arrived upon the field. The troops had marched all the morning from Crampton's Pass. General Smith's division was in advance, followed by Slocum's. The corps crossed the Antietam, following the line over which Sedgwick had marched.
The Rebels were, at that hour, moving down from Sharpsburg to turn Caldwell's left flank. Hancock had just taken command of the division. He sent to Franklin for help. He was short of artillery. Franklin sent him Hexamer's battery, and two regiments. One of them was the Seventh Maine, commanded by Major Hyde. They were of Hancock's own brigade. He had tried them at Williamsburg, at White-Oak Swamp, and Malvern. General Hancock assigned them a perilous duty. "The Rebel skirmishers behind the hill are picking off our gunners. I want them driven from that position," he said. The regiment started towards the hill. The Rebels saw the movement and commenced a rapid fire. Major Hyde halted, gave a volley and marched on, the men loading their muskets as they advanced.
It was a brave movement. Unsupported byother troops, the small body, numbering only one hundred and sixty-five men, and fifteen officers, struck out boldly towards the enemy. The batteries on the hills beyond Dr. Piper's played on them. The guns on the hill towards the church sent down their shells. The cannon on the knolls north of Sharpsburg sent solid shot across the ravine, diagonally through the line. The infantry in front of them gave rapid volleys. Shells from the Union batteries north of Muma's, mistaking them for Rebels, fired upon them. Yet not a man faltered.67
Once more beneath the terrible storm from foe and friend, Major Hyde halts his men, delivers a volley, and then with a cheer dashes upon the Rebel skirmishers, who are behind a wall, driving them back to the main line. Then marching by the left flank, seeking the shelter of a hill, he keeps up a steady fire. Officers and men fight with great bravery. Among the officers is Lieutenant Brown. He left the classic halls of Bowdoin College when his country called for the services of patriots. His captain falls. The company show signs of faltering. He springs to the front. He is their commander now.
"Rally, boys! Rally!" he shouts. But while the words are on his lips, he falls, shot through the brain.68
The Rebels came down in great force, and Major Hyde is obliged to fall back. Hexamer has used up his ammunition. He has been of great service. Woodruff takes his place. Pleasanton, commanding the artillery, brings sixteen guns tobear upon the advancing troops. The fire is so steady and effective that the Rebel line retires without making an attack.
While this is taking place on the left, or south of Rulet's, the contest is still raging by Muma's. Hill is making desperate efforts to recover his lost ground in the cornfield and the sunken road.
French has been compelled to fall back into the shelter of the ravine by Muma's. His men are out of ammunition, and unless reinforced must yield.
It is at this moment that Franklin's two divisions move over the field northeast of Muma's. The men are weary with their long marching. They have heard the battle echoing along Pleasant Valley all the morning, and have hastened on to aid their comrades. They cross the fields with their standards waving. Irwin's brigade is in advance. It pushes through the corner of the woods, east of Miller's cornfield, passes Thomas's battery, and reaches the open field north of Muma's. Hill has a brigade lying upon the ground, behind a ledge. Irwin charges them. There is a short contest at the ledge. The Rebels yield and retreat across the turnpike, followed by Irwin.
The ground slopes gently from the church to the east. Jackson's batteries are where they have been all the morning, in the woods behind the church. They have full sweep of the field. They open upon Irwin, whose right flank is near the church, on the ground which Howard occupied in the forenoon. It is an enfilading fire. It is impossible for Irwin to advance. He cannot remain. He retires a short distance, and his men dropupon the ground, sheltered by the ridge from the enemy's batteries, holding their position through the remainder of the day.
The Vermont brigade relieves General French. The Rebels have come down into the cornfield west of Muma's, from which they have been driven, and are rifling the pockets of the dead and wounded. General Smith gives the word. The Vermont brigade charges over the ground once more, driving the Rebels to the hills along the turnpike.
Slocum's division relieves Sedgwick's in the woods east of Miller's. General Franklin, as soon as he comes into position, orders an assault. Slocum forms his men to make the advance across the field where Mansfield and Sedgwick have fought. General Sumner is Franklin's superior officer, and he does not think it advisable to attack. He is not always free from despondent moods. His own corps has suffered severely. Sedgwick has been driven. French and Richardson are exhausted. There is a consultation among the officers commanding the corps and divisions and brigades, in the woods, in rear of Slocum's line. Sumner, Franklin, Smith, Slocum, Newton are there; also General Hunt, commanding the artillery.
Franklin wishes to attack with all his force. Smith, Slocum, and Newton second his wishes. Sumner alone is opposed. "My plan is," said General Franklin, "to bring up fifty pieces of the reserve artillery, plant them here, rain shells upon the enemy for a half hour, and then charge with my two divisions, and break their line."
Gen. McClellan visits the field, and directs thecommanders to hold their positions, but to make no attack.69
Some of the subordinate commanders retire gloomily to their commands. They disagree in opinion with their commander. They believe that the hour has come when the decisive blow can be given. As good soldiers, it is their duty to obey; but they sit down by the fence in the edge of the woods, dissatisfied with the decision of General McClellan. The reserve artillery is in the field northeast, a few rods distant,—a hundred guns. They believe that the time has come to use it. They do not like the plan of fighting in detachments—Hooker in the morning—then Mansfield—then Sedgwick's division—then French, and Richardson, and Burnside—who is separated from the main army, and has a hard task assigned him.
During the afternoon, the Rebels made a demonstration on the right by Poffenberger's. It was done to cover up their real intentions. I was talking with General Howard when an officer dashed up.
"The Rebels are advancing to attack us," said he.
"Let them have the heaviest fire possible from the batteries," was the reply.
As I rode towards the batteries on the ridge by Poffenberger's, thirty guns opened their brazen lips, each piece speaking three times a minute. The dark gray masses, dimly discerned through the woods and among the tasseled corn, wavered, staggered, reeled, swayed to and fro, advanced a few steps, then disappeared.
General Burnside's task was the hardest of all. The banks of the river by the lower bridge are steep and high, and the land on both sides is broken. The road leading to the bridge winds down a narrow ravine. The bridge is of stone, with three arches. It is twelve feet wide, and one hundred and fifty feet long.
The western bank is so steep that one can hardly climb it. Oak-trees shade it. Half-way up the hill there is a limestone quarry,—excavations affording shelter to sharpshooters. At the top there is a stone wall, a hundred feet above the water of the winding stream, and yet so near that a stone may be thrown by a strong-armed man across the stream.
A brigade of Rebels, with four pieces of artillery, guarded the bridge. There were sharpshooters beneath the willows, and in the thick underbrush along the bank of the stream. There were riflemen in the excavations on the hillside and behind the trees. The four cannon were behind the wall, with the great body of infantry in support. The bridge, the hills and hollows on the eastern bank, are raked and searched in every part by the infantry.
South of Sharpsburg there are numerous batteries ready to throw solid shot and shells over the heads of the brigade by the bridge. If Burnside carries the bridge, there are the heights beyond, the ground in front all open, swept and enfiladed by batteries arranged in a semicircle, supported by A. P. Hill's and a portion of Longstreet's troops. A. P. Hill was not on the ground in themorning, but arrived while the battle was in progress on the right and center.
General Burnside formed his troops on the farm of Mr. Rohrbach, with Sturgis's division on the right, Wilcox in the center, Rodman on the left, and Cox's division, commanded by Crook, in reserve. Benjamin's battery of twenty-pounder Parrotts, Simmons's, McMullen's, Durrell's, Clark's, Muhlenburgh's, and Cook's batteries were stationed on the hills and knolls of Rohrbach's estate during the night of the 16th. The troops lay on their arms, prepared to move whenever General McClellan issued the order.
At daybreak the Rebel batteries on the Sharpsburg hills began a rapid fire. The shells fell among the troops. Here and there a man was struck down, but they maintained their ground with great endurance. It was a severe test to the new regiments, which never had been under fire. It requires strong nerves to lie passive, hour after hour, exposed to a cannonade. But the men soon learned to be indifferent to the screaming of the something unseen in the air. They ate their hard tack, and watched the distant flashes from the white cloud upon the Sharpsburg hills. They talked of the guns, and learned to distinguish them by the sound.
"That is a rifle shot."
"There comes a shell."
"I wonder where that will strike."
With such remarks they whiled away the moments.
The Rebel brigade holding the bridge was commanded by General Toombs. Before the arrivalof A. P. Hill, the force of the enemy on this part of the field was about six thousand.
So vigorous was Burnside's attack, that nothing but the arrival of Hill prevented an irretrievable defeat.70
Burnside received his orders at ten o'clock.71Hooker had been at it all the morning. Standing by his head-quarters, Burnside could see the dark lines moving to and fro on Miller's field. Mansfield was going up the slope. Sumner was crossing the Antietam. The batteries all along the line were thundering.
"You are to carry the bridge, gain the heights beyond, and advance along their crest to Sharpsburg, and reach the rear of the enemy," was the order from General McClellan to General Burnside. Easily ordered; not so easily accomplished. Burnside has less than fourteen thousand men to accomplish a task harder than that assigned to any other commander. He must carry the bridge, gain the ridge, then move over an open field to attack the heights beyond, which are steeper and more easily defended than the ledges by the church, or the hills west of the sunken road. It is by nature the strongest part of the line.
Burnside's batteries opened with renewed vigor. Cox, commanding the corps (Burnside commanding the left wing), detailed Colonel Kingsbury with the Eleventh Connecticut to act as skirmishers, and drive the Rebel sharpshooters from the head of the bridge.
A short distance—a third of a mile—below the bridge there is a ford. Rodman's division wasordered to cross at that point, while Crook and Sturgis were ordered to carry the bridge.
The Eleventh Connecticut advanced, winding among the hills, deploying in the fields, firing from the fences, the trees, and stone walls. But from the woods, the quarry, the wall upon the crest of the hill, the road upon the western bank, they received a murderous fire. Crook's column, which had been sheltered by a ridge, marched down the road. The cannon upon the opposite bank threw shells with short fuses. The column halted and opened fire. Sturgis's division passed in their rear, and reached the bridge, under cover of the hot fire kept up by Crook.
The Second Maryland and Sixth New Hampshire charged upon the bridge. Instantly the hillside blazed anew with musketry. There were broad sheets of flame from the wall upon the crest, where the cannon, double-shotted, poured streams of canister upon the narrow passage. The head of the column melted in an instant. Vain the effort. The troops fell back under cover of the ridge sheltering the road leading to Rohrbach's.
General McClellan sent an aide to General Burnside with the message:—
"Assault the bridge and carry it at all hazards."
It was nearly one o'clock before the dispositions were all made for another attempt. Ferrero's brigade, consisting of the Fifty-first New York, Fifty-first Pennsylvania, Thirty-fifth and Twenty-first Massachusetts, was selected to make the decisive attack.
In Napoleon's campaigns, the bridge of Lodiand the causeway at Arcola, swept by artillery and infantry, were carried by the bravery and daring and enthusiasm of his troops; but the task assigned to Ferrero's brigade was not a whit easier than those historic efforts. The Thirty-fifth Massachusetts had been in the service less than a month. They were hardy mechanics and farmers; Napoleon's soldiers were such by profession, who had endured the trials, hardships, and discipline of successive campaigns; but these men, gathering in solid column at noon behind the ridge, on this September day, had left their plows and anvils and benches, not because they loved military life, or the excitement of battle, or the routine of camp life, but because they loved their country. The Twenty-first Massachusetts had been with Burnside in North Carolina. Their commander, Colonel Clark, at home, was a teacher of youth, accustomed to the lecture-room of Amherst; but he had left his crucibles and retorts, and the shaded walks of the college he loved, and the pleasant society of the beautiful town, to serve his country. He was wounded at South Mountain, and Major King commanded them now.
The men from New York left their wheat-fields and mills, and the men from Pennsylvania their coal-mines and foundries, to be citizen soldiers. They have not learned the art of war.
The troops upon the opposite bank were also citizen soldiers, serving the so-called Confederacy with bravery and valor. They were sheltered by woods, by excavations, by walls and fences, ravines and hills. They had great advantage in position, and confidently expected to hold theground. Their commander could look down from his head-quarters on the Sharpsburg hills, and behold their gallantry.
To carry that bridge would be an achievement which would have forever a place in the history of the nation. Men, when preparing to do a great duty, where life and honor are at stake, sometimes, with clear vision, look down the path of ages. The mind asks itself, How will those who come after me look upon the work of to-day? The soul feels the weight of the hour, the responsibility of the moment, the duty of the instant. With the truly brave there can be no faltering then, in the face of danger. They can die if need be, but they cannot turn from their duty.
Once more the effort. Simmons plants two of his guns to sweep the hillside across the stream. The brave and noble Colonel Kingsbury leads out his regiment once more. The assaulting column prepare for the decisive movement. They fix their bayonets firmly, throw aside their knapsacks and all that encumbers them.
All is ready. The signal is given. The Eleventh Connecticut spring to their work. They dash down to the river, firing rapidly. Their Colonel falls, mortally wounded, but his men fight on. Enraged now at their loss, they fight to avenge him. The long, dark column is in motion. It emerges from the shelter of the ridge. Again the hillside and the wall above become a sheet of flame. Up to the bridge, upon it, dash the men in blue, their eyes glaring, their muscles iron, their nerves steel. The front rank goes down. Men pitch headlong from the parapet into the water. Stones fly from the arches. Shells, shrapnel,canister, tear the ranks asunder, but on, to the center of the bridge and across it, with a yell louder than the battle, up the steep hillside, creeping, climbing, holding their breath, summoning all the heroism of life, all energy, into one effort, charging with the gleaming bayonet, they drive the Rebels from the bushes, the trees, the quarries, the wall!
The work is accomplished. The ground is theirs, won from General Toombs, who, before the war began, boasted that the time would come when he would call the roll of his slaves on Bunker Hill.
The Rebels flee in confusion across the field to gain the heights nearer the town. Ferrero's men lie down behind the wall and on the hillside, under shelter at last. They bathe their fevered brows, and satisfy their thirst in the stream, while the other divisions of the corps move down from their positions of the morning. It was gloriously done, and the place will be known, forever, in history, as the Burnside Bridge.
General Burnside was now separated from the main army. Longstreet held the hills east of the town, and from his batteries there, could partly enfilade Richardson on the one hand, and Burnside on the other. His cannon swept the bridge on the Boonesboro' pike. None of McClellan's troops had crossed there. It was nearly two miles from Richardson to Burnside. General McClellan was fearful that Lee would cross the middle bridge to the east side of the Antietam and cut off Burnside; therefore General Porter's corps was held in reserve east of the river by the heavyguns.72But Lee would have found it a difficult task, for Porter's heavy guns commanded the approach to the bridge from the west. If McClellan could not cross the bridge because Longstreet's guns swept it, neither could Lee have crossed under the fire of Taft, Langner, Von Kleizer, Weaver, Weed, and Benjamin.
The Antietam, a half-mile below Burnside's bridge, makes a sudden curve toward the west. It is crossed by one other bridge, at Antietam Iron-works, and then joins the Potomac. By throwing General Burnside across the Antietam, General McClellan designed not to turn the right of Lee and gain possession of his only line of retreat to Shepardstown, but to carry the heights, then pass along the crest towards the right.73But this movement isolated General Burnside from the army. He must hold the bridge or be cut off. He would be in acul de sac, a bag with only one place of escape, at the Antietam Iron-works.
When General Lee saw the preparations of Burnside to advance, after having carried the bridge, he weakened his left to strengthen his right. Hood, who was lying in reserve behind Jackson, was sent down. Longstreet moved some of his brigades. Jackson made a demonstration at Poffenberger's, already noticed, to make McClellan fear an attack at that point.
General Lee intended to do more than merely hold his line against Burnside.74By massing his troops at Sharpsburg, when Burnside was farenough advanced, Lee intended to seize the bridge and cut off Burnside's retreat.
Burnside's divisions crossed the stream at the bridge and at the ford, and formed for an advance upon the heights near the town. Wilcox was on the right, supported by Rodman in the center, Scammon's brigade on the left, and Sturgis in rear of Rodman.
While the troops were crossing and forming, Longstreet's and A. P. Hill's batteries kept up a constant fire of shells. Clark's, Durrell's, Cook's, and Simmons's batteries went across the bridge, gained the crest of the hill beyond, came into position, and opened fire in reply.
General Wilcox was on the road leading from the bridge to Sharpsburg, which passes up a ravine. A brook which has its rise beyond the town, gurgles by the roadside. Rebel batteries on the hills in front of the town enfiladed the ravine, sweeping it from the town to the river. There was no shelter for the troops while advancing. They must take the storm in their faces.
Neither was there any cover for Rodman, Sturgis, and Scammon. The ground, from the stone wall on the top of the river bank to the hills occupied by Hill and Longstreet, was all tillage land,—wheat-fields, and pastures, and patches of corn. There were fences to throw down, hills to climb, all to be done under fire from cannon arranged in crescent form, pouring down a concentrated fire from the heights.
The signal officer, upon Elk Ridge, five hundred feet above the battle-field, beholds all the operations of the Rebel army. From his lookout, with his telescope, he can sweep the entire field. Hisassistant waves a flag, and an officer, with his eye at the telescope by McClellan's head-quarters, reads a message of this import, transmitted by the little flag.
"The Rebels are weakening their left, and concentrating their troops upon their right."
The officer writes it in his message book, tears out the leaf, and hands it to General McClellan. He thus knows Lee's movements, the disposition of his forces, as well as if he himself had looked from the mountain summit upon the moving column.
He can make a counter movement, if he chooses, by weakening his own right to help Burnside, or he can throw in Porter's corps of twelve thousand strong, to help Burnside, by a dash upon the center, or leave Burnside to struggle against the superior force in front of him, move Porter upon the double quick to the right, unite him with Franklin, order up fifty or eighty guns from his reserve artillery, gather the brigades of Hooker's, Williams's, and Sumner's corps to hold the line, while Franklin and Porter, twenty thousand strong, fall like a thunderbolt upon Jackson, and break him in pieces. He can adopt one other plan,—hold what has already been gained. He adopts the last, and makes no movement.
It was three o'clock before Burnside's troops were in position for the advance. The entire line moved, Wilcox and Crook up the ravine and on both sides of it, Rodman across the fields south of the highway, and Scammon along the river bank.
A. P. Hill, from his position, enfiladed Rodman, who was obliged to change his line of march.He severed his right from Wilcox, and wheeled towards the southwest.
He was obliged to make this maneuver, to meet Hill face to face, but it brought upon his line an enfilading fire from the cannon and infantry nearer the town, and it opened a wide gap in the line, which Burnside was obliged to fill by pushing in Sturgis,—his only reserve.
The troops move quickly to the attack. Wilcox and Crook sweep all before them. The Rebel batteries which have had possession of the hills east of the town through the day are compelled to fall back from knoll to knoll.
There is a mill by the roadside, a half-mile east of the town. The hills opposite the mill on the right hand are sharp and steep. It is about half a mile across the fields to the Boonesboro' pike, where Richardson's left has been struggling to gain a foothold.
The Rebel batteries, which have been thundering all day from these hillocks between the Boonesboro' road and the highway to Burnside's bridge, have enfiladed Richardson. They have answered Taft, and Weber and Porter's batteries upon the east bank of the river; they have thrown solid shot almost to the head-quarters of General McClellan; but now, under the resolute advance of Wilcox and Crook, they are forced to withdraw.
Rodman meanwhile is wheeling in the open field, under a fire from front, right and left, pouring hot upon him like the concentrating rays of a lens.
Hill had his own division, consisting of Branch's, Gregg's, Field's, Pender's and Archer'sbrigades, also Jenkins and Toombs. Hood was sent down from the church, and held in reserve.75
Burnside's Second Attack.1 Wilcox's Division.2 Sturgis's "3 Rodman's "4 Scammon's brigade.5 Union batteries on ground from which the Rebels had been driven.6 Batteries of heavy guns.H A. P. Hill.L Part of Longstreet's command.Hd Hood.T Toombs's brigade.S Sharpsburg.M Mill.R Rohrbach's house.
Burnside's Second Attack.
1 Wilcox's Division.
2 Sturgis's "
3 Rodman's "
4 Scammon's brigade.
5 Union batteries on ground from which the Rebels had been driven.
6 Batteries of heavy guns.
H A. P. Hill.
L Part of Longstreet's command.
Hd Hood.
T Toombs's brigade.
S Sharpsburg.
M Mill.
R Rohrbach's house.
Rodman and Fairchild's and Harland's brigades; Scammon had his own and Ewing's. They drove Hill's first line back upon the second. Fairchild ordered a charge. His troops went across the field, through the waving corn with a huzzah. They faced a destructive fire. One shellkilled eight men of the Ninth New York. The color-bearers were shot. The guards fell. Captain Leboir seized one, Captain Lehay the other, and led the regiment up the hill to the road leading south from Sharpsburg. They found shelter under the wall, and halted.
The other regiments of the brigade joined them. Harland found greater opposition. His troops were cut down by a volley from a brigade of Rebels lying in a cornfield. They fought a while, became confused, crowded together, and were forced back.
General McClellan, from his head-quarters, can see all that is going on, for there is an unobstructed view of the field. He is with Fitz-John Porter on the high hill east of the Antietam.
An officer rides up swiftly. He is Burnside's aide. His horse pants.
"I must have more troops and guns. If you do not send them I cannot hold my position half an hour."
That is the message. Fitz-John Porter has twelve thousand troops. They have been spectators of the battle through the day. They have had breakfast and dinner, and nearly two days of rest since their arrival upon the ground. They might be a thunderbolt at this moment. Couch's and Humphrey's divisions will be up during the night.
But they are the only reserves present. Slocum has taken Sedgwick's place. He has not been engaged, and his men stand with ordered arms. Shall Porter be put in? McClellan consults Porter and Sykes, and then replies:—
"Tell General Burnside that I will send himMiller's battery. I have no infantry to spare. He must hold his ground till dark. Tell him if he cannot hold his ground, he may fall back to the bridge; but he must hold that, or all is lost."
Porter's corps and Slocum's division of Franklin's, eighteen thousand men in all, have taken no part in the battle. Smith is holding an important position. He has made one gallant charge, but his troops are ready to fight. There are twenty thousand men which can take the offensive, and nearly a hundred guns of the artillery.76
The right flank of the Rebels is all but turned. Wilcox is close upon the town. Rodman has driven Hill, and is holding his ground. Such is the condition of affairs as the sun goes down.
It is useless for Burnside to struggle without supports. He fights till the coming on of twilight, and then recalls his troops.
The regiments of Fairchild's brigade, far up on the hillside, upon ground won from the enemy by their valor, go back reluctantly.
"The men," says Lieutenant-Colonel Kimball, of the Ninth New York, "retired in good order, at a slow step, and with tears in their eyes, at the necessity which compelled them to leave the field they had so dearly won."77
It was a necessity. Without reinforcements he could not hold his ground, and Lee could cut him off if he remained so far from the bridge.
The daylight is dying out. Through the hours from early morning the roar of battle has beenunceasing. Four hundred cannon have shaken the earth, and nearly two hundred thousand men have struggled for the mastery. At times the storm has lulled a little, like the wind at night, then rising again to the fierceness of a tornado. In the intervals of the cannonade, low moans come up from the hollows, like the wail of the night-wind on a lonely shore.
On the right, through the morning, the fiery surges ebbed and flowed, and dashed to and fro, now against the ledges in the woods, and now against the ridge by Poffenberger's. They have left crimson stains upon the threshold of the church. The sunken road has drunk the blood of thousands. The cornfields, changing from the green of Summer to the russet of Autumn are sprinkled with magenta dyes. The battle is at this hour indecisive, but the artillery of both armies put on new vigor as the sun goes down, as if each was saying to the other, "We are not beaten."
Once more the firing is renewed. Standing on the high hill east of the Antietam, occupied by Porter, I can see almost up to Poffenberger's. The batteries upon the hill in rear of his house are thundering. I can see the glimmer of the flashes, and the great white cloud rising above the trees, by Miller's. And there in the cornfield, Porter's, Williston's, and Walcott's batteries are pounding the ledges behind the church, and sweeping the hillside. The woods which shade the church where Jackson stands, are smoking like a furnace. Richardson's batteries, in front of Lee, are throwing shells into the cornfield beyond Rulet's.
The twenty-pounder Parrotts on the hill by my side open once more their iron lips. The hills all around Sharpsburg are flaming with Rebel guns. The sharpshooters all along the line keep up a rattling fire. Near the town, hay-stacks, barns, and houses are in flames. At my left hand, Burnside's heavy guns, east of the river, are at work. His lighter batteries are beyond the bridge. His men are along the hillside, a dark line, dimly seen, covered by a bank of cloud, illuminating it with constant flashes. All the country is flaming, smoking, and burning, as if the last great day, the judgment day of the Lord, had come.
Gradually the thunder dies away. The flashes are fewer. The musketry ceases, and silence comes on, broken only by an occasional volley, and single shots, like the last drops after a shower.
Thirty thousand men, who in the morning were full of life, are bleeding at this hour. The sky is bright with lurid flames of burning buildings, and they need no torches who go out upon the bloody field to gather up the wounded. Thousands of bivouac fires gleam along the hillsides, as if a great city had lighted its lamps. Cannon rumble along the roads. Supply wagons come up. Long trains of ambulances go by. Thousands of slightly wounded work their way to the rear, dropping by the roadside, or finding a bed of straw by wheat-stacks and in stables. There is the clatter of hoofs,—the cavalry dashing by, and the tramp, tramp, tramp of Couch's and Humphrey's divisions, marching to the field.
There are low wails of men in distress, andsharp shrieks from those who are under the surgeon's hands.
While obtaining hay for my horse at a barn, I heard the soldiers singing. They were wounded, but happy; for they had done their duty. They had been supplied with rations,—hard tack and coffee,—and were lying on their beds of straw. I listened to their song. It was about the dear old flag.