"As a tree may be riven by lightning": The Night of the Battle of Antietam

I have always studied the night before the Battle of Antietam and how soldiers remembered it with great interest. More recently, in preparation for a talk I will be giving at the Antietam Institute's Spring Symposium in April, I have been reading about the night of September 17.

I’m also almost finished watching Apple TV’s Masters of the Air. One piece of this series that has struck me is when the bombing crews returned from their missions and landed in England, the uninjured survivors are quickly whisked away in trucks for a debrief to sort out intelligence, create casualty reports, note the location of where certain bombers went down, and what happened during their raid. It was all a regimented and organized process.

It is hard for me to imagine what that process was like–trying to sort out what happened when you’re still in the process of figuring it all out with intelligence officers asking you questions and looking for answers you might not be able to provide.

The same process was done in the Civil War, though in a much less formal fashion. Soldiers often had to sort out the losses of a battle and its circumstances in their messes or companies. To some of their comrades, they did not know what happened–if they were alive or dead.

Sergeant James A. Wright of the 1st Minnesota said of the Battle of Antietam: “Such a clash of arms as occurred at Antietam is but feebly represented as a big train wreck, followed by an explosion and fire, and supplemented by a cyclone with a cloud-burst and a wash-out.” This sentence sums up the chaos and destruction of that one, bloody day.

Wright thankfully left us with a detailed description of the night after the battle and the feelings of those who lived through it unscathed, at least on the outside. It is worth reproducing most of his memoir of that night here:

When the fighting had subsided to a degree that further serious movements were not expected, preparations for the night and any emergency of the morning were made…

It is not to the dead and wounded alone that all of the suffering of the day has come. Is there not something to be said for those who have escaped the casualty list but have shared in all of the movements and dangers of the day and have had a “fighting edge” on for the last 18 or 20 hours? Coffee, crackers, and pork before two o’clock that morning is all they have eaten in 24 hours–except a cracker, perhaps while lying in line. Corps, divisions, brigades, regiments, and companies have been shattered in the struggles–as a tree may be riven by lightning–and suffered a loss of from a fifth to one-half of their numbers. Broken in organization, despoiled of their leaders, and diminished in numbers.

Now that the crisis for the day was over and darkness veiled our movements, there was reaction from the tremendous mental strain, and defrauded physical nature demanded relief. The rolls were called and inquiries made about the missing ones–as to time, place, and by whom they were last seen–and what their condition was. It is in this way the losses of a day’s fighting are estimated and reports are made. Then–unless it is certain they are already cared for or are in the hands of the enemy–interested comrades try to find and relieve them.

In preparation for tomorrow, we must rest, refill our cartridge boxes and stomachs. We had gone into action with 60 rounds–40 in our boxes and 20 in our pockets–and used from 40 to 50 each. Dispositions were made for the night, and ammunition was brought up and distributed. Fires were lit in sheltered places a little to the rear, and coffee made in our tin cups. Then–sitting on the ground where we intended to sleep, talking briefly of the events of the day, and trying to understand them–we ate crackers and pork from our haversacks and drank our coffee–hot, strong, and lots of it. The day had seemed warm, but now that night had come, it felt chilly and there was a threat of rain. But for the hot coffee we would have felt the cold as we wrapped ourselves in such coverings as we had with us and slept in line of battle with our equipments on and our rifles beside us.

For some hours we slept undisturbed, then were awakened, told that it was morning (though it was yet dark), and formed in line ready for action. We awoke chilled, for the morning was cool; everything was wet with a heavy dew; and it was the reverse of pleasant to await the coming of daylight and–we knew not what–but expected fighting.

The Blog is Back and Re-Branded!

Hello readers, it has been a while! A really long time, in fact, since 2020, since there has been content on this blog. A lot has happened in the last four years. While I have been away blogging on Emerging Civil War and Emerging Revolutionary War, I have also served as the Antietam Institute's chief editor. So, I've been busy in the history field, just not on this blog. Now that we're settled into 2024, I figured it would be time to change that.

The blog is a bit different, though, this time around. My original intention of publishing histories of all the brigades that participated in the Maryland Campaign is a moot point with the publication of the Antietam Institute's excellent Brigades of Antietam, edited by good friend and fellow Antietam Battlefield Guide Brad Gottfried. Do yourself a favor and pick up this book if you haven't already. It's an excellent addition to your Maryland Campaign bookshelf.

With that now out and my horizons broadened slightly, I present to you the "new" blog: Antietam 1862. The Maryland Campaign has been my area of study since I started as a volunteer at Antietam in 2011 (where has the time gone?!). So, that will still be the focus of this blog. However, the more I have studied the Civil War, I have a greater appreciation for the year 1862 as a whole and have been reading furiously about the events of that year. 1862 was a critical year of the Civil War, perhaps the critical year. Not only did it see the Civil War transformed into a revolutionary effort that would forever change the United States, but it saw that war become the large, deadly conflict that we know today. It was a transformative year in American history. You'll find posts about all things 1862 on here, also.

I am not just restricted to reading 1862 books and articles. So, I may branch out and write about any and all things history-related, especially military history. Stay tuned, and thanks for reading!

After-Action Report of Maj. Hilary Herbert, 8th Alabama Infantry

Richard H. Anderson (courtesy of
National Park Service)

While the actions of Richard H. Anderson’s division on September 17, 1862 are generally known, pinning down specifics has always been difficult. Mostly, that is due to the fact that only one after-action report from the entire division (and it is not from Anderson himself) was reproduced in the Official Records. Robert K. Krick, in his essay about Confederates in the Sunken Road in Gary Gallagher’s The Antietam Campaign anthology illustrates the issue of determining the movements of Anderson’s division and its various brigades:

The disintegration of R. H. Anderson’s division can be seen distinctly from the official reports of its brigades: there are none. Not only did no official report for the division find its way into the published Official Records; there is also none for any of its six brigades, and only a report for one of the twenty-six regiments that made up those brigades. The report of Capt. Abram M. “Dode” Feltus, senior officer present with the 16th Mississippi, is the only one in that standard source out of a potential thirty-three documents. The lacuna frustrates historians; it also illustrates the paucity of command in the division on September 17 (and the haphazard way in which R. H. Anderson administered his division when he returned to its command).[1]

Volume Three of the Supplement to the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, published in 1994, contains a brief (and useless when it comes to Antietam) paragraph written by Col. William A. Parham, commanding Mahone’s brigade, and a report for Ambrose Wright’s brigade written by Col. William Gibson, third in charge of the brigade and its commander at the close of battle on September 17. These two sources bring the number of documents from Anderson’s division up to three out of the 33 Krick counted. Now, here is the fourth (Krick cites Herbert's report but since it was written in 1864 likely does not count it as an after-action report). It has been cited before in other works but has been used sparingly in studies of the Maryland Campaign.