Antietam and a Woman's Recollection of the Battle
Continued from: Lee's Invasion of Maryland
Mary Bedinger was eleven years old at the time of Antietam and lived with her widowed mother and younger brother and sister in Shepherdstown, Virginia. Her reminiscences were published in 1887 in "Battles and Leaders of the Civil War", having first appeared as “In the Wake of Battle” in the July 1886 Century Magazine under the pseudonym Maria Blunt.
“September, 1862, was in the skies of the almanac, but August still reigned in ours; it was hot and dusty. The railroads in the Shenandoah Valley had been torn up, the bridges destroyed, communication made precarious and difficult, and Shepherdstown, cornered by the bend of the Potomac, lay as if forgotten in the bottom of somebody's pocket. We were without news or knowledge, except when some chance traveler would repeat the last wild and uncertain rumor that he had heard. We had passed an exciting summer. Winchester had changed hands more than once; we had been ‘in the Confederacy’ and out of it again, and were now waiting, in an exasperating state of ignorance and suspense, for the next move in the great game.”
From the windows of the house, “…On a clear day we could see the fort at Harpers Ferry without a glass, and the flag over it, a mere speck against the sky, and we could hear the gun that was fired every evening at sunset.” “In this odd little borough, then, we were waiting ‘developments,’ hearing first that ‘our men were coming,’ and then that they were not coming, when suddenly, on Saturday, the 13th of September, early in the morning, we found ourselves surrounded by a hungry horde of lean and dusty tatterdemalions, who seemed to rise from the ground at our feet. I did not know where they came from, or to whose command they belonged; I have since been informed that General Jackson re-crossed into Virginia at Williamsport, and hastened to Harper's Ferry by the shortest roads. These would take him some four miles south of us, and our haggard apparitions were perhaps a part of his force. They were stragglers, at all events, - professional, some of them, but some worn out by the incessant strain of that summer. When I say that they were hungry, I convey no impression of the gaunt starvation that looked from their cavernous eyes. All day they crowded to the doors of our houses, with always the same drawling complaint: ‘I've been a-marchin' an' a-fightin' for six weeks stiddy; and I ain't had n-a-r-thin' to eat 'cept green apples an' green cawn, an' I wish you'd please to gimme a bite to eat.’ ” “…I know nothing of numbers, nor what force was or was not engaged in any battle, but I saw the troops march past us every summer for four years, and I know something of the appearance of a marching army, both Union and Southern. There are always stragglers, of course, but never before or after did I see anything comparable to the demoralized state of the Confederates at this time. Never were want and exhaustion more visibly put before my eyes, and that they could march or fight at all seemed incredible.” “As I remember, the next morning - it was Sunday, September 14 - we were awakened by heavy firing at two points on the mountains. We were expecting the bombardment of Harper's Ferry, and knew that Jackson was before it. Many of our friends were with him, and our interest there was so intense that we sat watching the bellowing and smoking Heights, for a long time, before we became aware that the same phenomena were to be noticed in the north. From our windows both points could be observed, and we could not tell which to watch most keenly. We knew almost nothing except that there was fighting, that it must be very heavy, and that our friends were surely in it somewhere, but whether at South Mountain or Harper's Ferry we had no means of discovering. I remember how the day wore on, how we stayed at the windows until we could not endure the suspense; how we walked about and came back to them; and how finally, when night fell, it seemed cruel and preposterous to go to bed still ignorant.” |
The cannon fire the residents of Shepherdstown heard at Harpers Ferry [spelled "Harper's Ferry" at that time] was Stonewall Jackson's attack on the Federal forces there. The Federal garrison and arsenal at Harpers Ferry was inadequately positioned defenses under the command of Col. Dixon S. Miles. Harpers Ferry is positioned below commanding positions on the surrounding Maryland, Loudoun and Bolivar Heights. The Federal defenders on Maryland Heights were driven back and the Confederates found that the Heights
West and South of town were not defended. Gen. Jackson positioned guns on the heights and began an artillery barrage on the arsenal and ordered an infantry assault. Col. Miles raised the white flag of surrender and left Gen. A. P. Hill at he arsenal to process the prisoners as he rushed to Sharpsburg to reinforce Gen. Lee for the Battle of Antietam. |
The cannon fire the residents of Shepherdstown heard to the north the cannon fire was the Battle of South Mountain which was fought for possession of three mountain passes the Union Army needed to cross in pursuit of the Confederate Army under Gen. Robert E. Lee. Despite being significantly outnumbered, Lee's army delayed McClellan's advance for a day before withdrawing. The defenders were pushed out by dusk, at a cost of 2,500 Union casualties and 3,800 Confederates. At that time, Lee had only some 18,000 effectives around Antietam and nearby Sharpsburg. Had McClellan attacked with his 75,000-man army, or even the troops nearby at South Mountain, the Southerners would have had little chance. Instead, fearing Lee might outnumber him, he moved his men to the ridges east of Antietam Creek, where he paused to let them rest.
“I believe there was more firing at Harper's Ferry on Monday, but I retain a very indistinct impression of the morning. In the afternoon, about two or three o'clock, when we were sitting about in disconsolate fashion, distracted by the contradictory rumors that reached us from town, our Negro cook rushed into the room with eyes shining and face working with excitement. She had been down in the ten-acre lot to pick a few ears of corn, and she had seen a long train of wagons coming up from the ford, and: ‘They is full of wounded men, and the blood runnin' out of them that deep,’ measuring on her outstretched arm to the shoulder. This horrible picture sent us flying to town, and we found the streets already crowded, the people all astir, and the foremost wagons, of what seemed an endless line, discharging their piteous burdens. The scene speedily became ghastly, but fortunately we could not stay to look at it. There were no preparations, no accommodations - the men could not be left in the streets - what was to be done?”
“A Federal soldier once said to me, ‘I was always sorry for your wounded; they never seemed to get any care.’ The remark was extreme, but there was too much justice in it. There was little mitigation of hardship to our unfortunate armies. We were fond of calling them Spartans, and they were but too truly called upon to endure a Spartan system of neglect and privation. They were always ill-fed and ill-cared for. It would have been possible, at this time, one would think, to send a courier back to inform the town and bespeak what comforts it could provide for the approaching wounded; but here they were, unannounced, on the brick pavements, and the first thing was to find roofs to cover them. Men ran for keys and opened the long empty shops and unused rooms; other people got brooms and stirred up the dust of ages; then armies of children began to appear with bundles of hay and straw, taken from anybody's stable. These were hastily disposed in heaps, and covered with blankets - the soldiers' own, or else one begged or borrowed from anywhere. On these improvised beds the sufferers were placed, and the next question was of the proper dressing of their wounds. No surgeons were to be seen. A few men, detailed as nurses, had come, but they were incompetent of course. Our women set bravely to work and washed away the blood, or stanched it as well as they could, where the jolting of the long, rough ride had disarranged the hasty binding done upon the battle-field. But what did they know of wounds beyond a cut finger, or a boil? Yet they bandaged and bathed, with a devotion that went far to make up for their inexperience.”
“Then there was the hunt for bandages. Every housekeeper ransacked her stores and brought forth things new and old. I saw one girl, in despair for a strip of cloth, look about helplessly, and then rip off the hem of her white petticoat. The doctors came up, by and by, or I suppose they did, for some amputating was done. Rough surgery, you may be sure. The women helped, holding the instruments and the basins, and trying to soothe or strengthen.” “We worked far into the night that Monday, went to bed late, and rose early next morning. Tuesday brought fresh wagon-loads, and would have brought despair, except that they were accompanied by an apology for a commissariat; and other and more regular sources of supply were organized among our country friends.” “It was known on Tuesday that Harper's Ferry had been taken, but it was growing evident that South Mountain had not been a victory. We had heard from some of our friends, but not from all, and what we did hear was often most unsatisfactory and tantalizing.” |
By midday of Tuesday, September 16, all but three of Lee’s nine divisions had arrived to reinforce Lee's Army at Antietam. Two hundred artillery pieces supported the infantry that was spread out in the woods and rolling fields in a bend of the Potomac River. The Army of Northern Virginia was fanned out crescent-like, its right flank on Antietam Creek and its left on the Potomac River, with Lt. Gen. J.E.B. "Jeb" Stuart’s cavalry guarding the gap between the Potomac and the infantry’s left flank. Although in a strong position with the advantage of interior lines of communication, it might also be a death trap with the Potomac cutting off retreat.
On the afternoon of September 16, General McClellan sent Maj. Gen. Joseph Hooker across Antietam Creek with I Corps, which only resulted in minor skirmishing around sunset on the north of the Confederates’ position, alerting Lee to where McClellan planned his initial attacks. |
“As night drew near, whispers of a great battle to be fought the next day grew louder, and we shuddered at the prospect, for battles had come to mean to us, as they never had before, blood, wounds, and death.”
“The seventeenth of September looked down from cloudy skies upon the two armies facing each other on the fields of Maryland. It seems to me now that the roar of that day began with the light, and all through its long and dragging hours its thunder formed a background to our pain and terror. If we had been in doubt as to our friends' whereabouts on Sunday, there was no room for doubt now. In the thickest of the fight, where the ‘Old Stonewall’ was ever to be found, there was it now and they with it, and here were we, not two miles away, listening in anguish as beyond the river the tide of battle surged to and fro. There was no sitting at the windows now and counting discharges of guns, or watching the curling smoke. We went about our work with pale faces and trembling hands, yet trying to appear composed for the sake of our patients, who were much excited. We could hear the incessant explosions of artillery, the shrieking whistles of the shells, and the sharper, deadlier, more thrilling roll of musketry; while every now and then the echo of some charging cheer would come, borne by the wind, and as the human voice pierced that demoniacal clangor we would catch our breath and listen, and try not to sob, and turn back to the forlorn hospitals, to the suffering at our feet and before our eyes, while imagination fainted at the thought of those other scenes hidden from us beyond the Potomac. |
|
September 17, was to be the deadliest day of the Civil War. At dawn, Maj. General Joseph Hooker’s Union corps mounted a powerful assault on Lee’s left flank that began the Battle of Antietam, and the single bloodiest day in American military history. Repeated Union attacks, and equally vicious Confederate counterattacks, swept back and forth across Miller’s cornfield and the West Woods. Despite the great Union numerical advantage, Stonewall Jackson’s forces near the Dunker Church would hold their ground this bloody morning. Meanwhile, towards the center of the battlefield, Union assaults against the Sunken Road would pierce the Confederate center after a terrible struggle for this key defensive position. Unfortunately for the Union army this temporal advantage in the center was not followed up with further advances.
Late in the day, Maj. General Ambrose Burnside’s corps pushed across a bullet-strewn stone bridge over Antietam Creek and with some difficulty managed to imperil the Confederate right. At a crucial moment, A.P. Hill’s division arrived from Harpers Ferry, and counterattacked, driving back Burnside and saving the day for the Army of Northern Virginia. Despite being outnumbered two-to-one, Lee committed his entire force at the Battle of Antietam, while McClellan sent in less than three-quarters of his Federal force. McClellan’s piecemeal approach to the battle failed to fully leverage his superior numbers and allowed Lee to shift forces from threat to threat. During the night, both armies tended to their wounded and consolidated their lines. In spite of crippling casualties, Lee continued to skirmish with McClellan on the 18th, while removing his wounded south of the Potomac. McClellan, much to the chagrin of Abraham Lincoln, did not vigorously pursue the wounded Confederate army. While the Battle of Antietam is considered a draw from a military point of view, Abraham Lincoln and the Union claimed victory. This hard-fought battle, which drove Lee’s forces from Maryland, would give Lincoln the “victory” that he needed before delivering the Emancipation Proclamation — a document that would forever change the geopolitical course of the American Civil War. |
“The seventeenth of September looked down from cloudy skies upon the two armies facing each other on the fields of Maryland. It seems to me now that the roar of that day began with the light, and all through its long and dragging hours its thunder formed a background to our pain and terror. If we had been in doubt as to our friends' whereabouts on Sunday, there was no room for doubt now. In the thickest of the fight, where the ‘Old Stonewall’ was ever to be found, there was it now and they with it, and here were we, not two miles away, listening in anguish as beyond the river the tide of battle surged to and fro. There was no sitting at the windows now and counting discharges of guns, or watching the curling smoke. We went about our work with pale faces and trembling hands, yet trying to appear composed for the sake of our patients, who were much excited. We could hear the incessant explosions of artillery, the shrieking whistles of the shells, and the sharper, deadlier, more thrilling roll of musketry; while every now and then the echo of some charging cheer would come, borne by the wind, and as the human voice pierced that demoniacal clangor we would catch our breath and listen, and try not to sob, and turn back to the forlorn hospitals, to the suffering at our feet and before our eyes, while imagination fainted at the thought of those other scenes hidden from us beyond the Potomac.
“On our side of the river there were noise, confusion, dust; throngs of stragglers; horsemen galloping about; wagons blocking each other and teamsters wrangling, and a continued din of shouting swearing, and rumbling, in the midst of which men were dying, fresh wounded arriving, surgeons amputating limbs and dressing wounds, women going in and out with bandages, lint, medicines, food. An ever-present sense of anguish, dread, pity, and, I fear, hatred - these are my recollections of Antietam. |
“When night came we could still hear the sullen guns and hoarse, indefinite murmurs that succeeded the day's turmoil. That night was dark and lowering and the air heavy and dull. Across the river innumerable watch-fires were blazing, and we could but too well conjecture the scenes that they were lighting. We sat in silence, looking into each other's tired faces. There were no impatient words, few tears; only silence and a drawing close together, as if for comfort. We were almost hopeless, yet clung with desperation to the thought that we were hoping. But in our hearts we could not believe that anything human could have escaped from that appalling fire.”
|
Despite being outnumbered two-to-one, Lee committed his entire force at the Battle of Antietam, while McClellan sent in less than three-quarters of his Federal force. McClellan’s piecemeal approach to the battle failed to fully leverage his superior numbers and allowed Lee to shift forces from threat to threat.
During the night, both armies tended to their wounded and consolidated their lines. In spite of crippling casualties, Lee continued to skirmish with McClellan on the 18th, while removing his wounded south of the Potomac. McClellan, much to the chagrin of Abraham Lincoln, did not vigorously pursue the wounded Confederate army.
The September 17 engagement is the bloodiest battle of the war to date, with no clear victor on either side. In the battle at Sharpsburg 87,000 Union forces were engaged against 45,000 Confederate forces. The total estimated casualties were 22,717, Union 12,401 and Confederate 10,316. Killed were 2,108 Union and 1,546 Confederate. Lee is forced to abandon his invasion of Maryland and the dubious Union victory gives Lincoln the political clout needed to issue the Preliminary Emancipation Proclamation.
During the night, both armies tended to their wounded and consolidated their lines. In spite of crippling casualties, Lee continued to skirmish with McClellan on the 18th, while removing his wounded south of the Potomac. McClellan, much to the chagrin of Abraham Lincoln, did not vigorously pursue the wounded Confederate army.
The September 17 engagement is the bloodiest battle of the war to date, with no clear victor on either side. In the battle at Sharpsburg 87,000 Union forces were engaged against 45,000 Confederate forces. The total estimated casualties were 22,717, Union 12,401 and Confederate 10,316. Killed were 2,108 Union and 1,546 Confederate. Lee is forced to abandon his invasion of Maryland and the dubious Union victory gives Lincoln the political clout needed to issue the Preliminary Emancipation Proclamation.
“On Thursday, the two armies lay idly facing each other, but we could not be idle. The wounded continued to arrive until the town was quite unable to hold all the disabled and suffering. They filled every building and overflowed into the country round, into farmhouses, barns, corn-cribs, cabins - wherever four walls and a roof were found together. Those able to travel were sent on to Winchester and other towns back from the river, but their departure seemed to make no appreciable difference. There were six churches and they were all full; the Odd Fellows' Hall, the Free Masons, the little Town Council room, the barn-like place known as the Drill Room, all the private houses after their capacity, the shops and empty buildings, the school-houses, - every inch of space, and yet the cry was for more room.”
“On Thursday night we heard more than usual sounds of disturbance and movement, and in the morning we found the Confederate army in full retreat. General Lee crossed the Potomac under cover of the darkness, and when the day broke the greater part of his force or the more orderly portion of it - had gone on towards Kearneysville and Leetown. General McClellan followed to the river, and without crossing got a battery in position on Douglas's Hill, and began to shell the retreating army and, in consequence, the town. What confusion was before grew worse; the retreat became a stampede. The battery may not have done a very great deal of execution, but it made a fearful noise. It is curious how much louder guns sound when they are pointed at you than when turned the other way! And the long-drawn screeching of shells, though no doubt less deadly than the singing of Minnie-balls, has a way of making one's hair stand on end at times. Then, too, everyone who has had any experience in such things knows how infectious fear is, how it grows when yielded to, and how, when you once begin to run, it soon seems impossible to run fast enough; whereas, if you can manage to stand your ground, the alarm lessens and sometimes disappears.” “Someone suggested that yellow was the hospital color, and immediately everybody who could lay hands upon a yellow rag hoisted it over the house. The whole town was a hospital; there was scarcely a building that could not with truth seek protection under that plea, and the fantastic little strips were soon flaunting their ineffectual remonstrance from every roof-top and chimney. Of course, they did not stop the firing; but when this specific failed, the excitement became wild and ungovernable. It would have been ludicrous had it not produced so much suffering. The danger was less than it seemed, for McClellan, after all, was not bombarding the town, but the army, and most of the shells flew over us and exploded in the fields; but aim cannot be always sure, and enough shells fell short to convince the terrified citizens that their homes were about to be battered down over their ears. The better people kept some outward coolness, with perhaps a sort of ‘noblesse oblige’ feeling but the poorer classes acted as if the town were already in a blaze, and rushed from their houses with their families and household goods to make their way into the country. The road was thronged, the streets blocked; men were vociferating, women crying, children screaming; wagons, ambulances, guns, caissons, horsemen, footmen, all mingled - nay, even wedged and jammed together - in one struggling, shouting mass. It was Pandemonium. The Negroes were the worst, and with faces of a ghastly ash color, they swarmed into the fields, carrying their babies, their clothes, their pots and kettles, fleeing from the wrath behind them. The comparison of a hornet's nest attacked by boys is not a good one, for there was no ‘fight’ shown; but a disturbed ant-hill is altogether inadequate. They fled and camped out of range, nor would they venture back for days.” “Had this been all, we could afford to laugh now, but there was another side to the picture that lent it an intensely painful aspect. It was the hurrying crowds of wounded. Ah me! Those maimed and bleeding fugitives! When the firing commenced the hospitals began to empty. All who were able to pull one foot after another, or could bribe or beg comrades to carry them, left in haste. In vain we implored them to stay; in vain we showed them the folly, the suicide, of the attempt; in vain we argued, cajoled, threatened, ridiculed; pointed out that we were remaining and that there was less danger here than on the road. There is no sense or reason in a panic. The cannon were bellowing upon Douglas's Hill, the shells whistling and shrieking, the air full of shouts and cries; we had to scream to make ourselves heard. The men replied that the ‘Yankees’ were crossing; that the town was to be burned; that we could not be made prisoners, but they could; that, anyhow, they were going as far as they could walk, or be carried. And go they did, but how? “Men with cloths about their heads went hatless in the sun, men with cloths about their feet limped shoeless on the stony road; men with arms in slings, without arms, with one leg, with bandaged sides and backs; men in ambulances, wagons, carts, wheelbarrows, men carried on stretchers, or supported on the shoulder of some self-denying comrade - all who could crawl went, and went to almost certain death. They could not go far, they dropped off into the country houses, where they were received with as much kindness as it was possible to ask for; but their wounds had become inflamed and angry, their frames were weakened by fright and over-exertion; erysipelas, mortification, gangrene set in; and the long rows of nameless graves still bear witness to the results. “Our hospitals did not remain empty. It was but a portion who could get off in any manner, and their places were soon taken by others, who had remained nearer the battlefield, had attempted to follow the retreat, but having reached Shepherdstown, could go no farther. We had plenty to do, but all that day we went about with hearts bursting with rage and shame, and breaking with pity and grief for the needless, waste of life. The amateur nurses all stood firm, and managed to be cheerful for the sake of keeping their men quiet, but they could not be without fear.” “One who had no thought of leaving her own post, desired to send her sister - a mere child - out of harm's way. She, therefore, told her to go to their home, about half a mile distant, and ask their mother for some yellow cloth that was in the house, thinking, of course, that the mother would never permit the girl to come back into the town. But she miscalculated. The child accepted the commission as a sacred trust, forced her way out over the crowded road, where the danger was more real than in the town itself, reached home, and made her request. The house had its own flag flying, for it was directly in range and full of wounded. Perhaps for this reason the mother was less anxious to keep her daughter with her; perhaps in the hurry and excitement she allowed herself to be persuaded that it was really necessary to get that strip of yellow flannel into Shepherdstown as soon as possible. At all events, she made no difficulty, but with streaming tears kissed the girl, and saw her set out to go alone, half a mile through a panic-stricken rabble, under the fire of a battery and into a town whose escape from conflagration was at best not assured. To come out had been comparatively easy, for she was going with the stream. The return was a different matter. The turbulent tide had now to be stemmed. Yet she managed to work her way along, now in the road, now in the field, slipping between wagon wheels, and once, at least, crawling under a stretcher. No one had noticed her coming out, she was but one of the crowd; and now, most were too busy with their own safety to pay much heed to anything else. Still, as her face seemed alone set towards the town, she attracted some attention. One or two spoke to her. Now it was, ‘Look-a here, little gal! Don't you know you're a-goin’ the wrong way?’ One man looked at the yellow thing she had slung across her shoulder and said, with an approving nod: ‘That’s right, that's right; save the wounded if ye kin.’ She meant to do it, and finally reached her sister, breathless, but triumphant, with as proud a sense, I dare say, of duty done, as if her futile errand had been the deliverance of a city.” [Note: Mary Bedinger was eleven years old when these incidents occurred in Shepherdstown. It was her little sister, Danske, seven years old, that she sent to their home, “Poplar Grove” on the mission to ask their mother for yellow cloth.] |
Battle of Shepherdstown
As the Confederate forces withdrew from Maryland on September 18, Gen. Lee left behind a rear guard of two infantry divisions and 44 guns under Brig. Gen. William N. Pendleton at Boteler’s Ford to prevent the Union forces from pursuing his retreating army. Near dusk on September 19, Union Gen. Griffin ordered two regiments to attack Gen. Pendleton’s rearguard, capturing four artillery pieces. Pendleton lost control of the situation, pulled out the infantry and frantically reported to Gen. Lee the exaggerated account that he had lost his position and his guns had been captured. Early on September 20, two Federal brigades cross the Potomac and encountered A. P. Hill’s “Light Division” which had been ordered by Gen. Lee to advance to Boteler’s Ford. Facing Hill's Division the Federal brigades retreated as two additional Federal brigades were ordered to the top of the bluffs to cover the retreat and two brigades were ordered to cross to the Virginia side. A. P. Hill's division counterattacked the Federals crossing and nearly annihilated the 118th Pennsylvania, inflicting 269 casualties. This rearguard action discouraged further significant Federal pursuit of Lee’s retiring army and ended the Maryland campaign. Both sides suffered large casualties, amounting to nearly 700.
As the Confederate forces withdrew from Maryland on September 18, Gen. Lee left behind a rear guard of two infantry divisions and 44 guns under Brig. Gen. William N. Pendleton at Boteler’s Ford to prevent the Union forces from pursuing his retreating army. Near dusk on September 19, Union Gen. Griffin ordered two regiments to attack Gen. Pendleton’s rearguard, capturing four artillery pieces. Pendleton lost control of the situation, pulled out the infantry and frantically reported to Gen. Lee the exaggerated account that he had lost his position and his guns had been captured. Early on September 20, two Federal brigades cross the Potomac and encountered A. P. Hill’s “Light Division” which had been ordered by Gen. Lee to advance to Boteler’s Ford. Facing Hill's Division the Federal brigades retreated as two additional Federal brigades were ordered to the top of the bluffs to cover the retreat and two brigades were ordered to cross to the Virginia side. A. P. Hill's division counterattacked the Federals crossing and nearly annihilated the 118th Pennsylvania, inflicting 269 casualties. This rearguard action discouraged further significant Federal pursuit of Lee’s retiring army and ended the Maryland campaign. Both sides suffered large casualties, amounting to nearly 700.
“On Saturday morning there was the fight at the ford. The Negroes were still encamped in the fields, though some, finding that the town was yet standing, ventured back on various errands during the day. What we feared were the stragglers and hangers-on and nondescripts that circle 'round any army, like the great buzzards we shuddered to see wheeling silently over us. The people were still excited, anticipating the Federal crossing and dreading a repetition of the bombardment or an encounter in the streets. Some parties of Confederate cavalry rode through, and it is possible that a body of infantry remained drawn up in readiness on one of the hills during the morning, but I remember no large force of troops at any time on that day.”
|
General Robert E. Lee withdrew his command to the vicinity of Martinsburg. Stonewall Jackson rested his men on the Oquepon River, halfway between Shepherdstown and Williamsport. Capt. George Rust Bedinger in removing from Maryland with the Confederate forces following the Battle of Antietam had the rare opportunity to pass through Shepherdstown and visit, at least briefly, with their loved ones. This was probably the last time George Rust would see his Ma, Diddy, Minnie, his Aunt Henrietta, Netta and others of his family in Shepherdstown.
The residents of Shepherdstown found that the Confederates had departed , taking with them all the wounded that could be moved , leaving the dead and dying behind. The town was again within Federal Lines. Despite the danger of being within Federal lines, Col Edwin Gray Lee risked staying a while at Bedford to see his father who was suffering in bedridden with a raging fever. Netta brought word that Federal soldiers were coming to get a Southern officer, who had been tipped off by a northern sympathizer that Col. Lee was at Bedford. Edwin saddled his horse and fled in the direction of Morgan's Grove , but was surrounded and captured in the nearby swamp. Col Lee was taken to Gen. McClellan s headquarters near Keedyville and was paroled. Col. Lee was later exchanged for a Union prisoner of comparable rank and resumed service in the Confederate army. [Levin (1987]
The residents of Shepherdstown found that the Confederates had departed , taking with them all the wounded that could be moved , leaving the dead and dying behind. The town was again within Federal Lines. Despite the danger of being within Federal lines, Col Edwin Gray Lee risked staying a while at Bedford to see his father who was suffering in bedridden with a raging fever. Netta brought word that Federal soldiers were coming to get a Southern officer, who had been tipped off by a northern sympathizer that Col. Lee was at Bedford. Edwin saddled his horse and fled in the direction of Morgan's Grove , but was surrounded and captured in the nearby swamp. Col Lee was taken to Gen. McClellan s headquarters near Keedyville and was paroled. Col. Lee was later exchanged for a Union prisoner of comparable rank and resumed service in the Confederate army. [Levin (1987]
The Battle of Antietam was a draw from a tactical standpoint, but Lee had withdrawn from the field and militarily the Union could claim a victory. Even though McClellan had failed to employ his superior numbers to obtain a greater military advantage, President Lincoln used the significance of the battle to issue his Emancipation Proclamation on September 22, which he had been withholding for want of a military success. Lincoln was dissatisfied with McClellan's hesitant and cautious direction of the engagement and his failure to press his advantage and pursue Lee into Virginia. On October 1st President Lincoln visited the army and remained several days to see for himself if the Army was in no condition to pursue Lee into Virginia during which time he went to the various battle fields of South Mountain and Antietam and reviewed the strategy and operations of the army. On November 7, Lincoln relieved Gen. McClellan of his command.
|
Continued: The chronology of the Civil War and George Rust Bedinger's letters are continued in Battle of Fredericksburg.
Continued: More information and background on Mary Bedinger MItchell is given in her page.
Continued: More information and background on Mary Bedinger MItchell is given in her page.