_The Treason at Harper's Ferry--Rebel Occupation of
Frederick--Patriotism of the Ladies of Frederick--A Rebel Guard
nonplussed by a Lady--The Approach to Antietam--Our Brigadier cuts Red
Tape--The Blunder of the day after Antietam--The little Irish Corporal's
idea of Strategy._
The Brigade did not rest long in its new camp. The day and a half,
however, passed there had many incidents to be remembered by. Fish were
caught in abundance from the beautiful Monocacy. But the most impressive
scene was the long procession of disarmed, dejected men, who had been
basely surrendered at Harper's Ferry, and were now on their way
homeward, on parole. Many and deep were the curses they uttered against
their late commanders. "Boys, _we've_ been sold! Look out," cried a
comely bright-eyed young officer of eighteen or thereabouts. "That we
have," added a chaplain, who literally bore the cross upon his shoulders
in a pair of elegant straps. When will earnest men cease to be foiled in
this war by treacherous commanders? was an inquiry that pressed itself
anxiously home.
But the thunders of Antietam were reverberating through that mountainous
region, distinctly heard in all their many echoes, and of course the
all-absorbing topic. At 3 P. M. orders came to move a short distance
beyond Frederick. The division was rapidly formed, and the men marched
joyously along through the streets of Frederick, already crowded with
our own and Rebel wounded, to the sound of lively martial music; but
none more joyously than the members of the old First, whose
recollections were brisk of good living as they recognised in many a
lady a former benefactress. Bradley T. Johnson's race, that commenced
with his infamously prepared and lying handbills, was soon run in
Frederick. No one of the border cities has been more undoubtedly or
devotedly patriotic. Its prominent ministers at an early day took bold
positions. The ladies were not behind, and many a sick and wounded
soldier will bless them to his latest hour. The world has heard of the
well deserved fame of Florence Nightingale. History will hold up to a
nation's gratitude thousands of such ministering angels, who, moving in
humbler circles, perhaps, are none the less entitled to a nation's
praise. "Great will be their reward."
To show the spirit that emboldened the ladies of Frederick, a notable
instance is related as having occurred during the Rebel occupation of
the city under General Stuart. Many Union ladies had left the place. Not
so, however, with Mrs. D., the lively, witty, and accomplished wife of a
prominent Lutheran minister. The Union sick and wounded that remained
demanded attention, and for their sake, as well as from her own high
spirit, she resolved to stay. Miss Annie C., the beautiful and talented
daughter of Ex-U. S. Senator C., an intimate friend of Mrs. D., through
like devotion, also remained. Rebel officers, gorgeous in grey and gilt
lace, many of them old residents of the place, strutted about the
streets. The ragged privates begged from door to door. Mrs. D., and her
friend had been separated several days--a long period considering their
close intimacy and their present surroundings. Mrs. D. resolved to visit
her, and with her to resolve was to execute. Threading her way through
the crowded streets, heeding not the jeers or insults of the rebel
soldiery, she soon came in front of the Cooper Mansion, to find a rebel
flag floating from an upper window, and a well dressed soldierly looking
greyback, with bayonet fixed, pacing his beat in front. Nothing daunted,
Mrs. D. approached. "Halt," was the short sharp hail of the sentinel, as
he brought his bayonet to the charge. "Who is quartered here?" asked
Mrs. D., gradually nearing the sentry. "Maj.-Gen. Stuart," was the brief
reply, "I want to visit a lady acquaintance in the house." "My orders
are strict, madam, that no one can cross my beat without a pass." "_Pass
or no pass, I must and will go into that house_," and quick as thought
this frail lady dashed aside the bayonet, sprang across the beat, and
entered the hall, while the sentry confused, uncertain whether he should
follow or not, stood a minute or two before resuming his step. From an
upper window Gen. Stuart laughed heartily at the scene, and was loud in
praise of her tact and pluck.
But all this time our division has been moving through the streets of
Frederick, in fact has reached what was to have been its camping ground
for the night. The reader will excuse me; older heads and more exact
pens have frequently, when ladies intervened, made much longer
digressions.
The halt was but for a moment. An aide-de-camp, weary-looking, on a
horse covered with foam, dashed up to the division commander, bearing an
order from the commander-in-chief that the division must join its corps
at Antietam without delay. The fight might be renewed in the morning,
and if so, fresh troops were needed. The order was communicated through
the brigade commanders to commanders of regiments, while the subordinate
field officers went from company to company encouraging the men, telling
them that a glorious victory had been gained, that the rebels were
hemmed in by the river on three sides, and our army in front; that there
was but one ford, and that a poor one, and that the rebels must either
take to the river indiscriminately, be cut to pieces, or surrender. In
short, that we had them.
These statements were received with the most enthusiastic applause. As
the Division proceeded on its march, they were confirmed by reports of
spectators and wounded men in ambulances. What was the most significant
fact to the men who had seen the thousands of stragglers and skulkers
from the second battle of Bull Run, was the entire absence of straggling
or demoralization of any kind. Our troops must have been victorious, was
the ready and natural suggestion. The thought nerved them, and pushing
up their knapsacks, and hitching up their pantaloons, they trudged with
a will up the mountain slope.
That mountain slope!--it would well repay a visit from one of our large
cities, to descend that mountain a bright summer afternoon. A sudden
turn in the road brings to view the sun-gilded spires of the city of
Frederick, rising as if by enchantment from one of the loveliest of
valleys. Many of the descriptions of foreign scenery pale before the
realities of this view. When will our Hawthornes and our Taylors be just
to the land of their birth?
Scenery on that misty night could not delay the troops. The mountain-top
was gained. About half way down the northern slope of the mountain the
Division halted to obtain the benefits of a spring fifty yards from the
road. A steep path led to it, and one by one the men filed down to fill
their canteens. The delay was terribly tedious, and entirely
unnecessary, as five minutes' inquiry among the men, many of whom were
familiar with the road, would have informed the Commanding General of
abundance of excellent water, a short mile beyond, and close by the
wayside. Pride, which prevails to an unwarranted extent among too many
regular officers, is frequently the cause of much vexation. Inquiry and
exertion to lighten the labors of our brave volunteers would, with every
earnest officer, be unceasing. A short distance further a halt was
ordered for coffee, that "sublime beverage of Mocha," indispensable in
camp or in the field. Strange to say, our brigadier, who habitually
confined himself closely to cold water, was one of the most particular
of officers in ordering halts for coffee.
South Mountain was crossed, but in the dusky light little could be seen
of the devastation caused by the late battle. "Yonder," said a wounded
man who chanced to be passing, "our gallant General lost his life." The
brave, accomplished Reno! How dearly our national integrity is
maintained! Brave spirit, in your life you thought it well worth the
cost; your death can never be considered a vain sacrifice!
Boonsboro' was entered about day-break. The road to Sharpsburg was here
taken, and at 7-1/2 A. M., having marched during that night twenty-eight
miles, the Division stood at arms near the battle-ground along a road
crowded with ammunition trains. Inquiry was made as to the ammunition,
and the number of rounds for each man ordered to be increased
immediately from forty to sixty.
"Pioneer! hand me that axe," said our brigadier, dismounting.
"Sergeant," addressing the sergeant of the ammunition guard, "hand out
those boxes." "The Division General has given strict orders, if you
please, General, that the boxes must pass regularly through the hands of
the ordnance officer," said the sergeant, saluting. "I am _acting_
ordnance officer; hand out the boxes!" was the command, that from its
tone and manner brooked no delay. A box was at his feet. In an instant a
clever blow from the muscular arm of the hero of Winchester laid it
open. Another and another, until the orderly sergeant had given the
required number of rounds to every man in the brigade. "Attention!
Column! Shoulder Arms! Right Face! Right Shoulder Shift Arms!" and at a
quickstep the brigade moved towards the field.
After passing long trains of ambulances and ammunition wagons, the boys
were saluted as they passed through the little town of Keetysville by
exhortations from the wounded, who crowded every house, and forgot their
wounds in their enthusiasm. "Fellows, you've got 'em! Give 'em h--l!"
yelled an artillery sergeant, for whom a flesh wound in the arm was
being dressed at the window by a kind-hearted looking country woman.
"Give it to 'em!" "They're fast!" "This good lady knows every foot of
the ground, and says so." The good lady smiled assent, and was saluted
with cheer upon cheer. Dead horses, a few unburied men, marks of shot in
the buildings, now told of immediate proximity to the field. A short
distance further, and the Division was drawn up in line of battle,
behind one of the singular ridges that mark this memorable ground.
Fragments of shells, haversacks, knapsacks, and the like, told how hotly
the ground had been contested on the previous day. The order to load
was quickly obeyed, and the troops, with the remainder of the Fifth
Corps in their immediate neighborhood, stood to arms.
A large number of officers lined the crest of the ridge, and thither,
with leave, the Colonel and Lieut.-Colonel of the 210th repaired. The
scene that met their view was grand beyond description. Another somewhat
higher and more uniform ridge, running almost parallel to the ridge or
rather connected series of ridges on one of which the officers stood,
was the strong position held by the rebels on the previous day. Between
the ridges flowed the sluggish Antietam, dammed up for milling purposes.
Beyond, on the crest of the hill, gradually giving way, were the rebel
skirmishers; our own were as gradually creeping up the slope. The
skirmishers were well deployed upon both sides; and the parallel flashes
and continuous rattle of their rifles gave an interest to the scene,
ineffaceable in the minds of spectators.
"Do you hear that shell, you can see the smoke just this side of
Sharpsburg on our left," said the Colonel, addressing his companion.
"There it bursts," and a puff of white smoke expanded itself in the air
fifty yards above one of our batteries posted on a ridge on the left.
Two pieces gave quick reply. "Officers, to your posts," shouted an
aide-de-camp, and forthwith the officers galloped to their respective
commands.
"Boys, the ball is about to open, put your best foot foremost," said the
Colonel to his regiment. The men, excited, supposing themselves about to
pass their first ordeal of battle, straightened up, held their pieces
with tightened grips, and nervously awaited the "forward." Beyond the
sharp crack of the rifles, however, no further sound was heard. Hour
after hour passed. At length an aide from the staff of the Division
General cantered to where the Brigadier, conversing with several of his
field officers, stood, and informed him that it was the pleasure of the
Division General that the men should be made comfortable, _as no
immediate attack was apprehended_. "No immediate attack apprehended!"
echoed the Colonel. "Of course not. Why don't we attack them?"
The aide flushed, said somewhat excitedly: "That was the order I
received, sir."
"Boys, cook your coffee," said our Brigadier, somewhat mechanically--a
brown study pictured in his face.
The field officers scattered to relieve their hunger, or rather their
anxiety as to the programme of the day.
"Charlie," said the Lieut.-Col., addressing a good-humored looking
Contraband, "get our coffee ready."
The Colonel, with the other field and staff officers, seated themselves
upon knapsacks unslung for their accommodation, silently, each
apparently waiting upon the other to open the conversation. In the
meantime several company officers who had heard of the order gathered
about them.
"I don't understand this move at all," at length said the Colonel
nervously. "Here we are, with a reserve of thirty thousand men who have
not been in the fight at all, with ammunition untouched, perfectly fresh
and eager for the move. The troops that were engaged yesterday have for
the most part had a good night's rest and are ready and anxious for a
brush to-day. The rebels, hemmed in on three sides by the river--with a
miserable ford, and that only in one place, as every body knows, and as
there is no earthly excuse for our generals not knowing, as this ground
was canvassed often enough in the three months' service. Why don't we
advance?" continued the Colonel, rising. "Their sharpshooters are near
the woods now, and when they reach it, they'll run like Devils. Why
don't we advance? We can drive them into the river, if they like that
better than being shelled; or they can surrender, which they would
prefer to either. And as to force, I'll bet we have one third more."
The Colonel, an impressive, fine-looking man, six feet clear in his
socks, of thirty-eight or thereabouts, delivered the above with more
than his usual earnestness.
The Adjutant, of old Berks by birth, rather short in stature, thick-set,
with a mathematically developed head, was the first to rejoin.
"It can't be for want of ammunition, Colonel! This corps has plenty. An
officer in a corps engaged yesterday told me that they had enough, and
you all saw the hundreds of loaded ammunition wagons that we passed in
the road close at hand--and besides, what excuse can there be? The Rebs
I understand did not get much available ammunition at the ferry. They
are far from their base of supplies, while we are scant fifteen miles
from one railroad, and twenty-eight from another, and good roads to
both."
"Be easy," said the Major, a fine specimen of manhood, six feet two and
a half clear of his boots, an Irishman by birth, the brogue, however, if
he ever had any, lost by an early residence in this country. "Be easy.
Little Mac is a safe commander. We tried him, Colonel, in the Peninsula,
and I'll wager my pay and allowances, and God knows I need them, that
he'll have his army safe."
"Yes, and the Rebel army too," snappishly interrupted the Colonel.
"I have always thought," said the Lieut.-Col., "that the test of a great
commander was his ability to follow up and take advantage of a victory.
One thousand men from the ranks would bear that test triumphantly
to-day. It is a wonder that our Union men stiffened in yesterday's
fight, whose blue jackets we can see from yonder summit in the rear of
our sharpshooters, do not rise from the dead, and curse the halting
imbecility that is making their heroic struggles, and glorious deaths,
seemingly vain sacrifices."
"Too hard, Colonel, too hard," says the Major.
"Too hard! when results are developing before our eyes, so that every
servant, even, in the regiment can read them. Mark my word for it,
Major; Lee commenced crossing last evening, and by the time we creep to
the river at five hundred yards a day, if at all, indeed, he will have
his army over, horse, foot, and dragoons, and leave us the muskets on
the field, the dead to bury, farm-houses full of Rebel wounded to take
care of, and the battle-ground to encamp upon--a victory barely worth
the cost. Why not advance, as the Col. says. The worst they can do in
any event is to put us upon the defensive, and they can't drive us from
this ground."
"If old Rosecranz was only here," sang out a Captain, who had been
itching for his say, and who had seen service in Western Virginia, "he
wouldn't let them pull their pantaloons and shirts off and swim across,
or wade it as if they were going out a bobbing for eels. When I was in
Western Virginia----"
"If fighting old Joe Hooker could only take his saddle to-day," chimed
in an enthusiastic company officer, completely cutting off the Captain,
"he'd go in on his own hook."
"And it would be," sang out a beardless and thoughtless Lieutenant--
"Old Joe, kicking up ahind and afore
And the Butternuts a caving in, around old Joe."
The apt old song might have given the Lieutenant a little credit at any
other time, but the matter in hand was too provokingly serious. Coffee
and crackers were announced, the field officers commenced their meal in
silence, and the company officers returned to their respective quarters.
The troops rested on their arms all that afternoon, at times lounging
close to the stacks. Upon the face of every reflecting officer and
private, deep mortification was depicted. It did not compare, however,
with the chagrin manifested by the Volunteer Regiments who had been
engaged in the fight, and whose thinned ranks and comrades lost made
them closely calculate consequences. Not last among the reflecting class
was our little Irish corporal.
"Gineral," said he, advancing cap in hand, to our always accessible
Brigadier, as he sat leisurely upon his bay--"Gineral! will you permit a
corporal, and an Irishman at that, to spake a word to ye?"
"Certainly, corporal!" the fine open countenance of the General relaxing
into a smile.
"Gineral! didn't we beat the Rebs yesterday?"
"So they say, corporal."
"Don't the river surround them, and can they cross at more than one
place, and that a bad one, as an ould woman whose pig I saved to-day
tould me?"
"The river is on their three sides, and they have only one ford, and
that a bad one, corporal."
"Thin why the Divil don't we charge?"
"Corporal!" said the General, laughing, "I am not in command of the
army, and can't say."
"Bad luck to our stars that ye aren't, Gineral! there would be somebody
hurt to-day thin, and it would be the bluidy Butthernuts, I'm thinking."
The corporal gave this ready compliment as only an Irishman can, and
withdrew.
At dusk orders were received for the men to sleep by their arms. But
there was no sleep to many an eye until a late hour that night. Never
while life lasts will survivors forget the exciting conversations of
that day and night. "Tired nature," however, claimed her dues, and one
by one, officers and privates at late hours betook themselves to their
blankets. The stars, undisturbed by struggles on this little planet,
were gazed at by many a wakeful eye. Those same stars will look down as
placidly upon the future faithful historian, whose duty it will be to
place first in the list of cold, costly military mistakes, the blunder
of the day after the battle of Antietam.