462 BATTLE-FIELD OF ANTIETAM. [SECT. XI. which had not witnessed the fierce and bloody encoun ter of armed and desperate men. "Let us first turn off to the left of the Hagerstown Turnpike; but we must ride very slowly and The dead in the corn-field, and in the fields beyond. carefully, for lying all through this corn-field are the victims of the hardest contest of our division. Can it be that these are the bodies of our late antagonists? Their faces are so absolutely black that I said to myself at first, This must have been a negro regiment. Their eyes are protruding from the sockets; their heads, hands, and limbs are swollen to twice the natural size. "Passing through this corn-field, with the dead lying all through its aisles, out into an uncultivated field beyond, I saw bodies attired mainly in rebel gray, lying in ranks so regular that Death, the Reaper, must have mowed them down in swaths. Our burying parties were already busily engaged, and had put away to rest many of our own men-still here, as every where, I saw them scattered over the fields. The ground was strewn with muskets, knapsacks, cartridgeboxes, and articles of clothing; the carcasses of horses, and thousands of shot and shell. And so it was on the other side of the turnpike, nay, in the turnpike itself. Ride where we may, through corn-field, wood, or ravine, and our ride will be among the dead, until the heart grows sick and faint with horror. Here, close to the road, were the haystacks near which our general and staff paused for a while when the division was farthest advanced, and here, at the corner of the barn, lay one of our men, killed by a shell, which had well-nigh proved fatal to them also. "Just in front of these haystacks was the only pleasing picture on this battle-field-a fine horse, struck with death at the instant when, cut down by his wound, he was attempting to rise from the ground. His head was CHAP. LVIII.] The Dunker BATTLE-FIELD OF ANTIETAM. 463 half lifted; his neck proudly arched; every muscle seemed replete with animal life. The wound which killed him was wholly concealed from view, so that I had to ride close up before I could believe him dead. Hundreds of his kind lay upon the field, but all were repulsive save himself, and he was the admired of every passer-by. Two weeks afterward I found myself pausing to gaze upon him, and always with the wish that some sculptor would immortalize in stone this magnificent animal, in the exact pose of his death-hour. One would like to see something from a battle-field not wholly terrible. "Over this grave-yard of the unburied dead we reached a wood, every tree pierced with shot or cut with bullets, and came to the little brick Dunker Church on the turnpike. This must have been a focal point in the battle, for a hundred round shot have pierced its walls, while bullets by thousands have scarred and battered it. A little crowd of soldiers was standing about it, and within a few severely-wounded rebels were stretched on the benches, one of whom was raving in his agony. Surgical aid and proper attendance had already been furnished, and we did not join the throng of curious visitors within. Out in the grove behind the little church the dead had been collected in groups waiting for burial, some of them wearing our own uniform, but the large majority dressed in gray. No matter in what direction we turned, it was all the same shocking picture, awakening awe rather than pity, benumbing the şenses rather than touching the heart, glazing the eye with horror rather than filling it with tears. Burial of the killed. "I had, however, seen many a poor fellow during my ride, something in whose position or appearance had caused me to pause; and here, lying side by side with three others, I saw a young rebel officer, his face less discolored than the rest, whose feat 464 BATTLE-FIELD OF ANTIETAM. [SECT. XI. ures and expression called forth my earnest sympathy, not so much for him as for those who in his Southern home shall see him no more forever. No one among the burying-party knew his name, and before night he was laid in a trench with the rest no head-stone to mark his resting-place-one of the three thousand rebel dead who fill nameless graves upon this battle-field. So ends the brief madness which sent him hither to fight against a government he knew only by its blessings-against his Northern brothers who never desired to encroach upon a single right or institution of his, who were willing that he should hug to his breast forever the Nessus shirt of slavery, asking only that he should not insist upon forcing its poison folds over their shoulders also. So disappears the beloved of some sad hearts-another victim of that implacable Nemesis, who thus avenges upon the white man the wrongs of the black, and smiles with hor rid satisfaction as this fearful game of war goes on. "Very slowly, as men move through the burial-places of the dead, we rode through the woods at the back of the church, and reached the rocky citadel behind which crouched the enemy to receive our charging battalions, sweeping their ranks with destruction and compelling their retreat. I was astonished to see how cunningly Nature had laid up this long series of rocky ledges breast high for the protection of the rebel lines. In front of The dead in front of this breastwork we found a majority of the the rock ledges. dead dressed in blue. At this point also commenced a long barricade of fence-rails, piled closely to protect the rebel lines, and stretching off toward the north. Here is one more evidence of the use to which the rebel generals put every spare moment of time, and of their admirable choice of position. "One more scene in this battle-picture must be seen, and with a visit to it our ride may end. It is a narrow CHAP. LVIII.] EXPECTED RENEWAL OF THE ATTACK. The lane of death. 465 country lane, hollowed out somewhat between the fields, partially shaded, and now literally crowded with rebel corpses. Here they stood in line of battle, and here, in the length of five hundred feet, I counted more than two hundred of their dead. In every attitude conceivable-some piled in groups of four or six; some grasping their muskets as if in the act of discharging them; some, evidently officers, killed while encouraging their men; some lying in the position of calm repose, all black, and swollen, and ghastly with wounds. This battalion of the dead filled the lane with horror. As we rode beside it-we could not ride in it-I saw the field all about me black with corpses, and they told me that the corn-field beyond was equally crowded. It was a place to see once, to glance at, and then to ride hurriedly away, for, strong-hearted as was then my mood, I had gazed upon as much horror as I was able to bear." Personal visit. I have quoted in detail Captain Noyes's description of the battle-field of Antietam, partly because of its intrinsic merit, and partly because of the special interest it presents to me. It was within the shell-torn walls of the Dunker Church that those general intentions to which I have alluded in my Preface took the form of a final resolve to write this book. I leaned, in the melancholy and rainy morning, against the rocky ledges once the breastworks of Confederate sol diers, and walked through the lane of death, in every panel of the fences of which there was then a grave. Long before the next day broke, the national troops, rising from their rest on the bare ground, "made ready their coffee, and, eating their simple breakfast, prepared The army expect to for a renewal of the battle." They believed renew the attack. that Lee had no escape. The river was at his back. A re-enforcement of 14,000 men had joined II.-G G 466 LEE CROSSES THE POTOMAC. [SECT. XI. them. Their strength was far greater than his. The end of the war was at hand. But the sun rose, the morning passed, the sun declined, and evening came-still there was no order for attack. Some, who had been in the Peninsula, related to their comrades the dilatory movements of those times; some recalled that it had taken in this campaign seven days to march a distance of forty miles; some wondered at the generalship which had been sending driblets of troops successively toward the Dunker Church, not to carry the position, for they were too Soldiers' criticisms Weak for that, but to a certain massacre. of the battle. There were veterans sunning themselves on the ground, who were telling that, if they had been consulted, they should have thrown the right wing of the army in one irresistible mass on the enemy, and, by working the left wing, would have given Lee other occupation than to concentrate his whole strength at the Dunker Church. It is the privilege of veterans to criticise their generals—sometimes they do it very sagaciously-and to demonstrate to their raw comrades how battles that have been lost might easily have been won. A second wearisome night ushered in another morning, and then there was news. Lee had given McClellan the Passage of the Po- slip. He had actually crossed the Potomac tomac by Lee. unmolested, and escaped into Virginia. The soldiers' hearts sank within them. Was this all that had come from the horrible carnage of that day? What if Lee had abandoned 3000 dead, and 2000 too severely wounded to be removed, he had compensated for the loss of a victory by executing a brilliant retreat from the battle-field under the very eye of his antagonist, and had converted the Potomac, from an apparently insuperable obstacle, into a line of defense. In his report, General McClellan states the considerations which led him to determine on inactivity. They |