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grown through the limbs of the older ones, presenting an anomalous
sight. Col. Vegesack, who had been assigned to the 20th New York,
now took command of the Brigade, and Lieutenant-Colonel Corning
returned to the Regiment. Col. Vegesack, who had obtained a
furlough from the Swedish army to cross the water and fight in behalf
of the Union, was a brave and beloved officer. While the first battle of
Fredericksburg was in progress, he received an extension of time,
and in announcing the fact to his men on the field, added; “My
soldiers, I fight from patriotism: you fight from patriotism and for
country; I expect that you will fight well.”
The next day the Regiment marched fifteen miles, passing through
Williamsburg. The inhabitants manifested in various ways their
delight at seeing the army retreating, which four months before had
marched so victoriously in the opposite direction. Marching by Fort
Magruder and the old battle-field, the Thirty-third bivouacked in a
pleasant spot three miles beyond. The troops rose early the next
morning, and by six o’clock were in motion. Proceeding through
Yorktown, the Regiment encamped near a grave-yard, two miles
distant from the city, in which two of General Washington’s Aids,
killed in the first siege of Yorktown, were buried. Officers and men
now for the first time visited the city, spending several hours in
wandering through the streets, and examining the heavy fortifications
constructed by the enemy. General Van Allen was in command of the
place. Near to the fortifications was a “Union Cemetery,” containing
the graves of 300 Union soldiers, each of which was adorned by a
neat head-board, designating the name and Regiment of the soldier.
Wednesday the march was resumed at five o’clock, and continued
for ten miles, until Big Bethel was reached. At ten o’clock on the
following morning the Regiment arrived in Hampton. The various
Divisions of the army had now reached here, the entire retrograde
movement having been performed most successfully.
CHAPTER XVIII.
Abandonment of the Peninsula.—Arrival at Acquia Creek.—Disembarkation at
Alexandria.—Pope’s Operations.—Death of Generals Stevens and Kearney.
—Retreat to the Fortifications.—Responsibility for the Disaster.—Fitz-John
Porter.
Soon after the troops fell back, Gen. Pope was relieved, at his own
request, and Gen. McClellan re-instated as Major General
commanding. He immediately commenced the labor of re-organizing
the army. The lull which followed, and absence of the enemy from
our immediate front, boded no good. The news, therefore, which
soon reached Washington, that the rebels had made their
appearance near Edward’s Ferry, was not wholly unexpected. Friday
night, Sept. 5th, they crossed the Potomac and occupied Frederick
City with a heavy force, destroying the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad
for several miles, and cutting off communication with Harper’s Ferry
and Martinsburg, where considerable bodies of our troops were
stationed. Gen. Lee’s plan, he afterwards stated, in crossing the
river, was to threaten Baltimore, Washington and Harrisburg at the
same time, thereby diverting the attention of our authorities while he
encircled and captured the above forces. Gen. McClellan
immediately pushed forward to meet him.
SUGAR-LOAF MOUNTAIN, MARYLAND.
“Ragged multitude
Of hinds and peasants, rude and merciless,”
After being driven from the mountain passes, Gen. Lee withdrew
his forces from the vicinity of the Blue Ridge, Boonsboro and
Hagerstown, and concentrated them near Sharpsburg, in horse-shoe
shaped lines, the heels resting near the Potomac. Gen. McClellan
followed with his entire army, save Couch’s Division and Franklin’s
Command, which having been detached for the relief of Harper’s
Ferry, were several miles in the rear.
The valley in which the conflict occurred lies directly west of the
spur of the Blue Ridge known as South Mountain, and comprises
one of the most delightful portions of Maryland. Looking down from
the Highlands, the eye fell upon little villages, crowning eminences or
nestling in dells; farm houses standing out boldly on the hill-tops, or
half-hidden down the woody slopes; yellow fields of grain, green
pastures and sombre fallows; luxuriant orchards and groves of
maple, interspersed with oak; the tortuous Antietam, forming in its
serpentine windings numerous miniature islands; lesser streams
sparkling in the sunlight, leaping and babbling down the mountain
side, or flowing noiselessly through the verdant meadows—the
whole comprising a landscape of surpassing beauty and loveliness.
Down on this fair valley settled the “horrid cloud” called battle.
Over this gorgeous patch-work of nature rolled the “hot elements of
destruction.”
Monday afternoon and Tuesday were spent by Gen. McClellan in
reconnoitring the enemy’s position, and establishing his own. He
likewise devoted considerable time to examining the topography of
the region. “Two hostile armies,” a recent writer observes, “on a
battle-field, are two wrestlers—one tries to throw the other; they cling
to everything; a thicket is a basis; for want of a village to support it, a
Regiment gives way; a fall in the plain, a transverse hedge in a good
position, a wood, a ravine, may arrest the heel of that column which
is called an army, and prevent its slipping. The one who leaves the
field is beaten, and hence the necessity for the responsible Chief to
examine the smallest clump of trees, and the slightest rise in the
ground.” No General ever realized the truth of the above more than
Gen. McClellan, and it was accordingly his wont to inspect minutely
the ground chosen for battle. Before Tuesday noon he had
familiarized himself with the plan of “Antietam,” examined the woods,
fields, hills, dales and streams which it embraced, selected the
commanding positions for his artillery, and marked out the level
spots where infantry could be manœuvred to advantage.
As fast as the troops came streaming down from the mountain,
they moved to the various points assigned them. It was an inspiring
sight, those long shining lines, pouring down through the woods and
fields, like “living threads that went to weave themselves into the
glorious tapestry of our nation’s history.”
There was the chivalric Burnside, leading the conquerors of
Roanoke and Newbern—the Ninth Army Corps—which he loved so
well. Further to the right came Porter, with his Regulars and well
filled ranks of Volunteers. Still further on appeared the brave old
Sumner, whose highest wish was to die with the harness on—
followed by troops who adored the hero of Fair Oaks, if possible,
more than their Chief.
In the rear rode the gallant Mansfield, who, tired of inactivity, had
exchanged the ease of court duty at the capital for the command of
Banks’ Corps, fresh from the gory fields of Cedar Mountain and Bull
Run. Hither was he come to uncover to the storm his head, now
silvered o’er by the frosts of nearly sixty winters, and die while
cheering forward his men on a charge. And there too was the
courageous Hooker, deploying far away to the right his battle-scarred
veterans.
During Tuesday there was heavy skirmishing between the infantry,
and considerable artillery firing, but no general engagement took
place. Meanwhile Lee was reinforced by Jackson’s Corps of thirty
thousand men, who, after having taken possession of Harper’s Ferry,
moved rapidly back up the Virginia side of the Potomac and crossed
over at the fords near Sharpsburg. Aware, as he now was, of his
superiority in numbers and position, the rebel chief calmly awaited
our attack.
The dawn of Wednesday found the Federal army arranged in
much the same manner as the day previous, Hooker on the right,
supported by Mansfield, then Sumner, then Porter on a commanding
eminence, as a reserve, and lastly Burnside, on the extreme left.
The line extended between four and five miles. The rebel left was
in the woods, directly in front of our right, and their forces were
posted across the valley between us and Sharpsburg, and very
nearly parallel with our own. Our artillery was planted behind the
crests of the various hillocks, ready to be run up and fire at a
moment’s notice.
To Gen. Hooker had been assigned the honor of opening the great
combat. During the night previous he had crossed the Antietam on
the Hagerstown road, and gained a position on the right bank of that
stream, which curved round in front of our forces.
He was in the saddle before daylight, and the rising sun shone
upon his troops moving forward in battle array—the right of our lines
sweeping round towards the Potomac. They proceeded but a short
distance before encountering the enemy, drawn up to receive them,
and soon the profound stillness which precedes a battle was broken,
and Saxon was pitted against Saxon in the contest of death.
Steadily the brave fellows pressed forward over the wooded and
uneven ground, regardless of the infantry and artillery fire which was
concentrated upon them from several points, and sweeping through
the cornfields and grove at the right of the Sharpsburg turnpike, bore
down with irresistible fury upon the rebel lines.
They stood the shock but a moment, and then the swarthy foe fell
back in disorder, closely followed by our victorious boys, who made
the welkin ring with their shouts and cheers. But now come
reinforcements for the enemy, and our troops are forced back from
the ground which they have so gallantly won. For a moment it seems
as if Hooker will be overpowered, so heavily has the enemy’s left
been reinforced, but the timely arrival of Mansfield stems the tide of
rebel success. The two commands are massed together, and
together resist the onslaughts of the enemy. There is as yet no
fighting elsewhere. All the energy, skill and force of the respective
commanders are, for the time being, centred on this point. Hither all
eyes are turned. Ten o’clock finds the troops still fiercely engaged.
Both Hooker and Mansfield are lost to them. Gen. McClellan soon
arrives, inspiring the men by his presence. A few moments later
Sumner comes up with his whole Corps to the relief of those who
have been fighting for three hours.
His troops suffer severely. It was true he exposed them—
unnecessarily some thought—but no more than he exposed himself.
Wherever the conflict waxed hottest, there he was to be seen riding
to and fro, brandishing his sword and cheering forward his men, his
head uncovered and his long silver locks streaming in the breeze.
French, Richardson, Kimball and other brave spirits were with him,
seconding his commands.
The gallant young Howard, who laid aside his ministerial robes to
lose an arm at Fair Oaks Roads, leads Burn’s old Brigade on a
charge. Close by appears the intrepid Meagher, double-quicking his
Irish braves through a field of corn, and the enemy, who have again
commenced advancing, are checked. Our reserve artillery are now
trained upon them, and
creating wide gaps and producing fearful carnage in their ranks. But
determined on breaking this part of our line, Gen. Lee continued to
mass his forces here, and portions of Sumner’s troops, weary and
exhausted, began to recede.
It was now a most critical moment—Mansfield killed, Hooker
wounded, Sedgwick, Richardson and Crawford carried bleeding from
the field,—the enemy pressing on in overwhelming numbers,—our
own troops giving way,—what should we have done had not Franklin
arrived at this juncture from Pleasant Valley with two fresh Divisions?
The force had left Pleasant Valley at daylight, and marched rapidly
to the scene of action. The Third Brigade, with two others,
immediately pressing forward, put the enemy to flight, and
established the lines far in advance of where they had been at the
opening of the fight. This brilliant success cost us, however, many
casualties. Fifty were killed and wounded in the Thirty-third alone;
among the former was Sergeant-Major George W. Bassett, a brave
and beloved officer. He was shot through the head, after bearing
Lieut. Mix from the field, seriously wounded through the thigh.
Captain Gifford and Lieutenant King were also wounded. Lieutenant-
Colonel Corning’s horse was hit three times, and Major Platner’s
killed. The Thirty-third, and other Regiments of Franklin’s Corps sent
forward, held their position during the remainder of the contest. The
fighting on the left did not commence until later in the day, and it was
noon before the fire of musketry announced that the infantry were
engaged in that direction. The first advance was made down the
slope of a hill, to a bridge which crossed the Antietam. Beyond the