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512 HISTORY OF MARYLAND.
" Over this graveyard 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 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 senses rather than touching the heart, glazing the eye
with horror rather than filling it with tears.
" 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 features
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.
" 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 this breast-work, we found a majority of the 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 h>
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 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 cornfield 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."
Such was the bloody battle-field of Sharpsburg on the 17th of September,.
1862. At night, notwithstanding the overwhelming odds which Lee had
contended against, he remained in possession of the field. On the next day
McClellan, notwithstanding his greatly superior force, made no attempt to
renew the conflict, but massed his artillery on the east side of the Antietam,
as if fearing an attack from the Confederates, being unable himself to take
the offensive. " The next morning," says he, on his trial, " I found that our
loss had been so great, and that there was so much disorganization in some of
| Title | History of Maryland - 3 |
| Creator | Scharf, J. Thomas (John Thomas) |
| Publisher | J. B. Piet |
| Place of Publication | Baltimore |
| Date | 1879 |
| Language | eng |
| Type | Books/Pamphlets |
| Title | 00000545 |
| Type | Books/Pamphlets |
| Transcript | 512 HISTORY OF MARYLAND. " Over this graveyard 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 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 senses rather than touching the heart, glazing the eye with horror rather than filling it with tears. " 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 features 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. " 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 this breast-work, we found a majority of the 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 h> 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 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 cornfield 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." Such was the bloody battle-field of Sharpsburg on the 17th of September,. 1862. At night, notwithstanding the overwhelming odds which Lee had contended against, he remained in possession of the field. On the next day McClellan, notwithstanding his greatly superior force, made no attempt to renew the conflict, but massed his artillery on the east side of the Antietam, as if fearing an attack from the Confederates, being unable himself to take the offensive. " The next morning," says he, on his trial, " I found that our loss had been so great, and that there was so much disorganization in some of |
