“ Ah ! Time, tell it not that onk freeman forgot, 
For a day, or an hour, the past’s mighty story; 
Ne'er impart 
That a hand 
Or a heart 
In the land 
Erer shrouded a star in her a/,ore of glory ! 
For the land now awakes, 
From her seas to her lakes, 
To hail the bright morn of her might as it breaks, 
And shout, by the banner that Treason forsakes— 
1 The Union—Now and Forever!’ * 
ROCHESTER, N. Y., OCTOBER 4, 1862. 
THE WAR’S PROGRESS. 
FACTS, SCENES, INCIDENTS, ETC. 
The Great Battle of Antietam. 
The correspondent of the N. Y. Tribune, writ¬ 
ing from Ibe battle-field on the night after the fear¬ 
ful struggle, gives a very graphic description of the 
contest. We condense from his account as follows: 
A fierce and desperate battle between 200,000 men 
has raged since daylight, yot night closes on an 
uncertain field. It is the greatest fight since Water¬ 
loo—all over the field contested with an obstinacy 
equal even to Waterloo. If not wholly a victory 
to-nigbt, I believe it is the prelude to a victory 
to-morrow, But what can he foretold of the future 
of a fight in which from five in the morning till 
seven at night the best troops of the continent have 
fought without decisive result? 
Afier the brilliant victory near Middletown, Gen. 
McClellan pushed forward his army rapidly, and 
reached Keedysville with three corps on Monday 
night. On the day following the two armies faced 
each other idly until night. Artillery was busy at 
intervals; once in the morning with spirit, and con¬ 
tinuing half an hour with vigor, till the rebel bat¬ 
tery, as usual, was silenced. McClellan was on the 
hill where Benjamin’s battery was stationed, aud 
found himself suddenly under a rather heavy fire. 
It was still uncertain whether the rebels were re¬ 
treating or re-enforcing—their batteries would re¬ 
main in position in either case, and as they had 
withdrawn nearly all their troops from view, there 
was only the doubtful indication of columns of dust* 
to the tear. 
On the evening of Tuesday, Hooker was ordered 
to cross Antietam Creek with his corps, and feeling 
the left of the enemy, to be ready to attack next 
morning. During the day of apparent inactivity, 
McClellan had been maturing liis plan of battle, of 
which Hooker’s movement was one development. 
The position on either side was peculiar. When 
Richardson advanced on Monday, he found tko ene¬ 
my deployed and displaced in force on a crescent- 
shaped ridge, the outline of which followed more or 
less exactly the course of Antietam Creek. Their 
lines were then forming, and tbe revelation of force 
in front of the ground which they really intended to 
hold, was probably meant to delay our attack until 
their arrangements to receive it were complete. 
During that day they kept their troops exposed, 
and did not move them even to avoid the artillery 
fire, which must have been occasionally annoying. 
Next morning the lines and columns which had 
darkened Corn-fields and hill crests, had been with¬ 
drawn. Broken and wooded ground behind the 
sheltering hills concealed the rebel masses. What 
from our front looked like only a narrow summit 
fringed with woods, was a broad table-land of forest 
and ravine; cover for troops everywhere, nowhere 
easy of access for an euemy. The smoothly sloping 
surface in front, and the sweepingcresceutofslowly 
mingling lines, was a delusion. It was all a rebel 
stronghold beyond. 
Under the base of these hillsrun3 the deep stream 
called Antietam Creek, fordable only at distant 
points. Three bridges cross it, one on the Hagers¬ 
town road, one on the Sharpsburg pike, and one to 
the left in a deep recess of sleepy falling hills. 
Hooker passed the first to reach the fonl by which 
he crossed, and it was held by Pleasanton with a 
reserve of cavalry during the battle. The second 
was close under the rebel center, and no way im¬ 
portant. At the third, Burnside attacked and finally 
crossed. Between the first and third lay most of 
the battle lines. They stretched four miles from 
right to left. 
Unaided attack in front was impossible. McClel¬ 
lan’s lorce lay behind low, disconnected ridges, in 
front of the rebel summits, all, or nearly all, un¬ 
wooded. They gave some cover for artillery, and 
guns were therefore massed on the center. The 
enemy had the Shepardstown road and the Hagers¬ 
town and Williamsport road both open to him in 
rear for retreat. Along one or the other, if beaten, 
he must fly. This, among other reasons, deter¬ 
mined, perhaps, the plan of battle which McClellan 
finally resolved on. 
The plan was generally as follows:—Hooker was 
to cross on the right, establish himself on the enemy's 
left, if possible, flanking bis position, and to open 
the fight. Sumner, Franklin and Mansfield were to 
send their forces also to the right, co-operatiog with 
aud sustaining Hooker's attack, while advancing 
also nearer the center. The heavy work in the 
center was left mostly to the batteries, Porter mass¬ 
ing his infaulry support in the hollows. On the 
left Burnside was to carry the bridge already refer¬ 
red to, advancing then by a road which enters the 
pike at Sharpsburg, turning at once the rebel flank 
and destroying his line of retreat. Porter and 
Sykes were held in reserve, ft is obvious that the 
complete success of a plan contemplating widely 
different movements of separate corps, must largely 
depend on accurate timing, that the attack should 
be simultaneous, and not successive. 
Hooker moved Tuesday afternoon at four, cross¬ 
ing the river at a lord above the bridge, and well to 
the right, without opposition. Fronting south-west, 
his line advanced not quite on the rebel flank, but 
overlapping and Lkreateniug it. Turning off from 
the road, alter passing the stream, he sent forth cav¬ 
alry skirmishers straight into the woods and over 
the fields beyond. The rebel pickets withdrew 
slowly before them, firing scattering and harmless 
shots. Turning again to the left, the cavalry went 
down on the rebel flank, coming suddenly close to 
a battery, which met them with them with unex¬ 
pected grape and canister. It being the motive of 
cavalry to retire before batteries, this company 
loyally followed the law of its being, and came 
swiftly back without pursuit. 
Artillery was sent to the front infantry was rap¬ 
idly deployed, aud skirmishers went out in front 
and on either flank. The corps moved forward 
compactly. Hooker, as usual, reconnoitering in per¬ 
son. They came at last to an open grass-sown field 
inclosed on two sides with woods, protected on the 
right by a hill, and entered through a corn-field in 
the rear. Skirmishers on entering these woods 
were instantly met by rebel shots, but held their 
ground, and as aeon as supported, advanced and 
cleared the timber. Beyond, on the left and front, 
volleys of musketry opened heavily, and a battle 
seemed to have begun a little sooner than it was 
expected. 
Gen. Hooker formed his lines with precision and 
without hesitation. Rickett's Division went into the 
woods on the left in force. Meade, with the Penn¬ 
sylvania Reserves, formed in the center. Double¬ 
day was sent out on tbe right, planting bis batteries 
on the hill, aud opening at once on a rebel battery 
that began to enfilade the central line. It was 
already dark, and the rebel position could only be 
discovered by the flashes of their guns. They 
pushed forward boldly on the right, after losing 
grouud on the other flank, but made no attempt to 
regain their hold on the woods, and finally went out 
in the dark. 
Hooker had found out what he wanted to know. 
When the firing ceased the hostile liues lay close to 
each other—their pickets so near that sixty rebels 
were captured during tbe night It was inevitable 
that the fight should recommence at daylight. Nei¬ 
ther side had suffered considerable loss; it was a 
skirmish, not a battle. ‘*We are through for the 
night, - ’ remarked the General, “ but to-morrow we 
light the battle that w r ill decide the fate of the Re¬ 
public.” 
Not long after the firing ceased; it sprang up 
again on the left. Geu. Hooker, who had taken up 
his headquarters in a barn, which had been nearly 
the focus of the rebel artillery, was out at once. 
First came rapid and unusually frequent picket 
shots, then several heavy volleys. The General 
listened a moment and smiled grimly. “We have 
no troops there. The troops are shooting each 
other. Fair Oaks over again.” So everybody lay 
down again, but all the night through there were 
frequent, alarms. 
McClellan had been informed of the night’s work, 
and of the certainties awaiting the dawn. Sumner 
was ordered to move his corps at once, and was 
expected to be on the ground at daylight. From 
the extent of the rebel lines developed in the eve¬ 
ning, it was plain that they had gathered their 
whole army behind the heights and were waiting 
for the shock. 
The battle began with the dawn. Morning found 
both armies just as they had slept, almost close 
enough to look into each other’s eyes. The left of 
Meade’s reserves aud the right of Ricketts’ line 
became engaged at nearly tbe same moment, one 
with artillery, the other with infantry. A battery 
was almost immediately pushed forward beyond the 
central woods, over a plowed field, near the top of 
the slope where the corn field began. On the open 
field, in the corn beyond, and in the woods which 
stepped forward in the broad fields, like a promon¬ 
tory iuto the ocean, was the hardest and deadliest 
struggle of tbe day. 
For half an hour after the battle had grown to its 
full strength, the line of fire swayed neither way. 
Hooker’s men were fully up to their work. They 
saw their General everywhere in front, never away 
from the fire, and all the troops believed in their 
commander, aud fought with a will, Two-thirds of 
them were the Bame men who under McDowell had 
broken at Manassas. 
The half hour passed, the rebels began to give 
way a little, only a little, but at the first indication 
of a receding tire, “forward" was the word, and on 
went the line with a cheer and a rush. Back across 
the corn field, leaving dead and wounded behind 
them, over the fence, and then back again into the 
woods which closed around them, went the retreat¬ 
ing rebels. 
Meade and his Pennsylvanians followed hard and 
fast—followed till they came within ea.sy range of 
the woods, among which they saw their beaten 
enemy disappearing—followed still, with another 
cheer, and (lung themselves against the cover. But 
out of those gloomy woods came, suddenly and 
heavily, terrible volleys—volleys which smote, anti 
bent, and broke, in a moment; that eager front, and 
hurled them swiftly back for half the distance they 
had won. Not swiftly, nor in a panic, any further. 
Closing up their shattered lines, they came slowly 
away—a regiment where a brigade had been—hardly 
a brigade where a whole division had been victo¬ 
rious. They had met from the woods the first vol¬ 
leys of musketry from fresh troops—had met them 
and returned them till their lino had yielded and 
gone down before the weight of fire, and till their 
ammunition was exhausted. 
In ten minutes the fortune of the day seemed to 
have changed—it was the rebels now who were ad¬ 
vancing, pouring out of the woods in endless lines, 
sweeping through the corn fields from which their 
comrades had just fled. Hooker sent in his nearest 
brigade to meet them, but it could not do the work. 
He called for another. There was nothing close 
enough, unless he took it from his right. His right 
might be in danger if it was weakened, but bis cen¬ 
ter was already threatened with annihilation. Not 
hesitating one moment, lie sent to Doubleday: “Give 
me your best brigade instantly.” The best brigade 
came down the hill to the right on the run. went 
through the timber in front, through a storm of shot 
and bursting shell and crashing limbs, over the 
open field beyond, and straight into the corn field, 
passing as they went the fragments of three brigades 
shattered by the rebel fire, and streaming to the 
the rear. They passed by Hooker, whose eyes 
lighted as he saw these veteran troops led by a sol¬ 
dier whom he knew aud could trust. “ I think they 
will hold it,” he said. 
Gen. Ilartsulf took his troops very steadily, now 
that they were under fire, not hurriedly, up the bill 
from whioh the corn field begins to descend, and 
formed them ou the crest. Not a man who was not 
in full view —not one who bent before the storm. 
Firing at the first in volleys, they fired then at will 
with wonderful rapidity and effect. The whole line 
crowned the hill, and stood out darkly against the 
sky, but lighted and shrouded over in flame and 
smoke. There for half an hour they held the ridge 
unyielding in purpose, exhaustless in courage. 
There were gaps in the line, but it nowhere fal¬ 
tered. The General was wounded badly early in 
the fight, but they fought on. Their supports did 
not come—they determined to win without them. 
They began to go down the hill and into the corn: 
they did not stop to think that their ammunition 
was nearly gouc; they were there to win that field, 
and they won it. The rebel line for the second time 
fled through the corn and into the woods. 
The crisis of the fight at this point had arrived— 
Rickett’s division vainly endeavoring to advance, 
and exhausted by the effort, had fallen back. Part 
of Mansfield’s corps was ordered to their relief, but 
Mansfield's troops came back again, and their Gen¬ 
eral mortally wounded. The left, nevertheless, was 
too extended to be turned, and too strong to be bro¬ 
ken. Ricketts sent word he could not advance, but 
he could hold bis ground. Doubleday had kept his 
guns to work on the right, apd had finally silenced 
a rebel battery that for halt an hour had poured in 
a galling enfilading fire along Hooker's central line. 
There were woods in front of Doubled ay's hill which 
the rebels held, but so long as those guns pointed 
that way they did not. care to attack. With his left 
'hen able to take care of itself with his right im¬ 
pregnable, with two brigades of Mansfield still fresh 
and coming rapidly up, and with his center a second 
time victorious, General Hooker determined to ad¬ 
vance. Orders were sent to Crawford and Gordon— 
the two Mansfield brigades—to move at once, the 
batteries in the center were ordered on, and the 
General himself wont forward. 
To the right of the corn field and beyond it was 
a point of woods. Once carried and firmly held, it 
was the key of the position. Hooker determined to 
take it. He rode out in front of bis furthest troops 
on a hill to examiue the ground for a battery. At 
the top he dismounted and went forward on foot, 
completed his reconnaissance, returned, and re¬ 
mounted. The musketry fire from tbe point of 
woods was all the while extremely hot. As he put 
his foot in the stirrup a fresh volley of rifle bullets 
came whizzing by. The tall soldierly figure of the 
General, the white horse which he rode, the elevated 
place where he was—all made him a most danger¬ 
ous mark. So he had been all day, riding often 
without a staff officer, nor an orderly near him—all 
sent off on urgent duty—visible everywhere on the 
field. The rebel bullets bad followed him all day, 
but they had not hit him, and he would not regard 
them. Remounting on this hill, he had not ridden 
five steps when he was struck in the foot by a ball. 
Three men were shot down at the same moment by 
his side. The air was alive with bullets. lie kept 
on his horse for a few moments, though the wound 
was severe and excessively painful, and would not 
dismount till he had given his last order to advance. 
He was himself in the very front Swaying un¬ 
steadily on his horse, he turned in his seat to look 
about him, “There is a regiment to the right. Or¬ 
der it forward ! Crawford and Gordon are coming 
up. Tell them to carry these works aud hold them 
—and it is our fight!” 
Sumner arrived just as Hooker was leaving, and 
assumed command. Crawford and Gordon had 
gone into the woods, and were holding them stoutly 
against heavy odds. As I rode over toward the left 
I rnet Sumner at the head of his column advancing 
rapidly through the timber, opposite where Craw¬ 
ford was fighting. Tbe veteran General was riding 
alone in the forest far ahead of his leading brigade, 
his hat off, his gray hair, and beard and mustache, 
strangely contrasting with the lire in his eyes, and 
his mnriial air, as he hurried on to where the bullets 
were thickest. Sedgwick’s division was in advance, 
moving forward to support Crawford nnd Gordon. 
Rebel reinforcements were approaching also, and 
the struggle for the roads was agaiu to he renewed. 
Sumner sent forward two divisions. Richardson 
and French on the left. Sedgwick moving in col¬ 
umn of division through the roads in rear deployed 
and advanced in liije over the corn field. There 
was a broad interval between him and tbe nearest 
division, and he saw that if the rebel line were com¬ 
plete his own division was in immediate danger of 
being Hanked. But his orders were to advance, and 
those are the orders which a soldier—and Sedgwick 
is every inch a soldier—loves best to hear. 
To extend his own front as far as possible, be or¬ 
dered the 34th New York to move by the left flank. 
The manoeuvre was attempted under a fire of the 
greatest intensity, and the regiment broke. At the 
same moment, the enemy perceived their advantage, 
came round on that flank. Crawford was obliged to 
give way on the right, and his troops pouring in 
confusion through the ranks of Sedgwick's advance 
brigade, threw it into disorder and back on the 
second and third lines. Tbe enemy advanced, their 
fire increasing. General Sedgwick was three times 
wounded, in the shoulder, leg and wrist, but he per¬ 
sisted in remaining on the field so long as there was 
a chance of saving it. His Ad jutant-General, Major 
Sedgwick, bravely rallying aud trying to re-form 
the troops, was shot through the body, the bullet 
lodging in the spino, and fell from his horse. Severe 
as the wound is, it is probably not ’mortal. Lieut 
Ilowe, of Gen. Sedgwick's staff, endeavored vainly 
to rally the 34th New York. They were badly cut 
up, and would not stand. Half their officer* were 
IcUlcd or wounded, their colors shot to pieces, the 
Color-Sergeant killed, every one of the color guard 
wounded. Only thirty-two were afterwards got 
together. 
General Dana was wounded. General Howard, 
who took command of the division after General 
Sedgwick was disabled, exerted himself to restore 
order, but it could not be dune there. Gen. Sumner 
ordered the line to be formed under tire. The te3t 
was too severe for volunteer troops under such a 
fire. Sumner himself attempted to arrest the disor¬ 
der, but to little purpose. Lieut.-Colonel Revere 
and Capfain Audenried, of his staff, were wounded 
severely, but not dangerously. Sumner withdrew 
the division to the rear, and once more the corn field 
was abandoned to the enemy. 
French sent word he could hold his ground. 
Richardson, while gallantly leading a regiment, 
under a heavy fire, was severely wounded in the 
shoulder. General Meagher was wounded at the 
head of his brigade. The loss in general officers 
was becoming frightful. 
At one o’clock affairs on the right had a gloomy 
look. Hooker’s troops were gTeatly exhausted, and 
their General away from the field. Mansfield’s were 
no better, Sumner’s command had lost heavily, but 
two of bis divisions were still comparatively fresh. 
Artillery was yet playing vigorously in front, though 
the ammunition of many of the batteries was en¬ 
tirely exhausted, and they had been compelled to 
retire. Doublcday held the right inflexibly. Sum¬ 
ner's headquarters were now in the narrow field 
where the night before Hooker had begun the fight. 
All that had been in front had been lost. The ene¬ 
my’s battalion, which, if advanced and served vig¬ 
orously, might have made sad work with the closely 
massed troops, were, fortunately, either partially 
disabled or short of ammunition. Sumner was con¬ 
fident that he could hold his own, but another ad¬ 
vance was out of the question. The enemy, on the 
other hand, seemed to be too much exhausted to 
attack. 
At this crisis Franklin came up with fresh troops, 
and commanding one division of the corps, formed 
on the left. Slocum was sent forward along the 
slopes lying under the first ranges of the division of 
rebel hills, while Smith was ordered to retake the 
corn fields and woods which all day had been so 
hotly contested. It wasdoneiu the handsomest style. 
His Maine and Vermont regiments and the rest, 
went, forward on the run, and, cheering as they 
went, swept like an avalanche through the corn¬ 
fields, fell upon the woods, cleared them in ten 
minutes, and held them. They were not again re¬ 
taken. 
The field and its ghastly harvest which the reaper 
had gathered in those fatal hours remained finally 
with us. Four times it had been lost and won. The 
dead are strewn so thickly that as you ride over it 
you cannot guide your horses’ steps too carefully. 
Pale and bloody faces are everywhere up turned. 
They are sad and terrible, but there is nothing 
which makes one’s heart beat so quickly as the 
imploring look of sorely wounded men who beckon 
wearily for help which you cannot stay to give. 
Gen. Smith's attack was so sudden that bis suc¬ 
cess was accomplished with no great loss. He had 
gained a point, however, which compelled him to 
expect, every moment an attack, and to hold which, 
if the enemy again brought up reserves, would take 
his best energies and his best troops. But the long 
strife, the heavy losses, incessant fighting over the 
same field repeatedly lost and won inch by inch, and 
more than all, perhaps, the fear of Burnside on the left 
and Porter in front, held the enemy in check. Fortwo 
or three hours there was a lull even in the cannon¬ 
ade on the right, which hitherto bad been incessant. 
McClellan had been over on the Held after Sumner’s 
repulse, but had speedily ret,limed to his head¬ 
quarters. Sumner again sent word that he was able 
to hold his position, but could not advance with his 
own corps. 
Meantime where wa3 Burnside, and what was he 
doing? We had heard Porter’s guns in the center, 
but nothing from Burnside on the left. 
Up to 3 o’clock Burnside had made little progress, 
nis attack on the bridge had been successful, but the 
delay had been so great that to the observer it ap¬ 
peared as if McClellan’s plan must have been seri¬ 
ously disarranged. It is impossible not to suppose 
that the attack on right and left were meant in a 
measure to correspond; for otherwise the enemy had 
only to repel Hooker ou the one hand, then transfer 
his troops and push them against Burnside. 
Finally, at 4 o'clock, McClellan sent simultaneous 
orders to Burnside and Franklin; to the former to 
advance and carry the batteries in his front at all 
hazards and at any cost; to the latter to carry the 
woods next in front of him to the left, which the 
rebels still held. The order to Franklin, however, 
was practically countermanded, in consequence ot a 
message from General Sumner, that if Franklin 
went on and was repulsed, his own corps was not 
sufficiently re-organized to be depended on as a 
reserve. 
Franklin thereupou was directed to run no risk of 
losing his present position, and instead of sending 
his infantry into the woods, contented himself with 
advancing his batteries over the breadth of the fields 
in front, suppojtiug them with heavy columns of 
infantry, and attacking with energy the rebel bat¬ 
teries immediately opposed to bint. His movement 
was a success, so tar as it went, the batteries main¬ 
taining their new ground and sensibly affecting the 
steadiness of’ the rebel fire. 
Attacking first with one regiment, then with two, 
and delaying both for artillery, Burnside was not 
over the bridge before 2 o’clock—perhaps not till 3. 
He advanced slowly up the slopes in his front, his 
batteries in rear, covering, to some extent, the 
movements ot the infantry. A desperate fight was 
going on in a deep ravine on his right, the rebel bat¬ 
teries were in tall play and apparently very annoy¬ 
ing aud destructive, while heavy columus of rebel 
troops were plainly visible, advancing as if careless 
of concealment along the road and over the hills in 
the direction of Burnside’s forces. It was at this 
point of time that McClellan sent him the order 
above given. 
Burnside obeyed it most gallantly. Getting his 
troops well in hand and sending a portion of his 
artillery to the front, lie advanced them with rapid¬ 
ity and the most determined vigor, straight up the 
hill in front, on top of which the rebels had main¬ 
tained their most dangerous battery. The move¬ 
ment was in plain view of McClellan’s position, and 
as Franklin, on the other side, sent his batteries 
into the field about the same time, the battle seemed 
to open in all directions with greater activity than 
ever. The tight in the ravine was in full progress, 
the batteries which Porter supported were firing 
with new vigor, Franklin was blazing away on the 
hill-top, ridge and woods along the whole line was 
crested and veiled with white clouds ofsinoke. 
There are two hills on the left of the road, the 
furthest aud lowest. The rebels have batteries on 
both. Burnside is ordered to carry the nearest to 
him, which is the furthest from the road. His guns 
opening first from this new position in front, more 
entirely controlled and silenced the enemy's artil¬ 
lery. The infantry came on at once, moving rapidly 
and steadily up long, dark lanes, and broad, dark 
recesses, being plainly visible without a glass as 
they move over the green hillside. The next mo¬ 
ment the road in which the rebel battery was planted 
was canopied with clouds of dust swiftly descending 
into the valley. Underneath was a tumult of 
wagons, guns, horses, and men, flying at great speed 
down the road. Blue flashes of smoke burst now 
and then among them, a horse or a man or half a 
dozen went down, and then the whirlwind swept on. 
The hill was carried, but could it be held? The 
rebel columns, before seen moving to the left, in¬ 
creased their pace. The guns on the hill above, 
send an angry tempest, of shell down among Burn¬ 
side’s guns and men. lie had formed his columns 
apparently in the near angles of two fields border¬ 
ing upon the road—high ground about them every¬ 
where except in rear. 
In another moment a rebel line appears on the 
brow of the ridge above, them, moves swiftly down 
in the most perfect order, and though met by inces¬ 
sant discharges of musketry, of which we plainly 
see the flashes, does not tire a gun. White spaces 
show where men are falling, but they close up 
instantly, and still the line advances. The brigades 
of Burnside are in heavy column; they will not 
give way before a bayonet charge in line. The 
rebels think twice before they dash into these hostile 
masses. There is a halt, the rebel left gives way 
and scatters over the field, the rest stand last and 
fire. More infantry comes up. Burnside is outnum¬ 
bered, flanked, compelled to yield the hill he look 
so bravely. His position is no longer one of attack; I 
he defends himself with unfaltering firmness, blit he 
sends to McClellau for help. McClellan’s glass for 
the last half hour has seldom been turned away 
from the left, lie sees clearly enough that Burn¬ 
side is pressed—needs no messenger to tell him 
that. His face grows darker with anxious thought. 
Looking down into the valley where 15,000 troops 
are lying, he turns a hall questioning look on FUz 
John Porter, who stands by his side, gravely scan¬ 
ning the field. They are Porter’s troops below, are 
tresh and impatient to share in this light. But Por¬ 
ter slowly shakes his head, and one may believe 
that, the same thought is passing through the 
minds of both Generals, “ They are the only heroes 
of the army; they cannot be spared.” 
McClellan remounts his horse, and with Porter 
and a dozen officers of his staff, rides away to the 
left in Burnside's direction. Sykes meets them on 
the road—a good soldier, whose opinion is worth 
taking. The three Generals talk briefly togetner. 
It is easy to see that the moment has come when 
everything may turn on one order given or with¬ 
held, when the history of the battle is only to be 
written in thoughts aud purposes and words of the 
General. 
Burnside’s messenger rode up. His message is, 
“ I want troops and guns. If you do not send them 
I cannot hold my position for half an hour.” Mc¬ 
Clellan’s only answer tor the moment is a glance at 
the western sky. Then he turns and speaks very 
slowly:—“Tell Gen. Burnside that this is the battle 
of the war. He must hold his ground till dark at 
any cost.” 
“I will send him Miller's battery. I can do noth¬ 
ing more. I have no infantry.” Then as the mes¬ 
senger was riding away he called him back. “ Tell 
him if he cannot hold his ground, theD, the bridge, 
to the last maul— always the bridge!— if the bridge 
is lost, all is lost.” 
The sun is already down; not half an hour of day¬ 
light is left. Till Burnside’s message came it had 
seemed plain to every one that the battle could be 
finished to-day. None suspected how near was the 
peril of defeat, of sudden attack on exhausted forces, 
how vital to the safety of the army and nation was 
those fifteen thousand waiting troops of Filz John 
Porter id the hollow. But the rebels halted instead 
of pushing on, their vindictive cannonade died away 
as the light of day faded. Before it was quite dark 
(-hebattle was over. Only a solitary gun ol'Buruside 
thundered against the enemy, and presently this 
also ceased, and the field was still. 
Our Reverse at Harper's Ferry. 
Tub capture of Harper's Ferry was one of the 
most, serious reverses we have met, with during the 
war, if for no other reason than the simple fact that 
it opened a way of escape for the rebels from Mary¬ 
land. We copy the following account of the battle 
and surrender from the N. Y. Times: 
About the commencement of the month, Colonel 
Dixon H. Miles, of Bull Run memory, who suc¬ 
ceeded Gen. Sigel to the command of the post, began 
to apprehend a forward movement by the enemy. 
On Monday, September first, the 87 th Ohio, Colonel 
Banning, was sent, down with two howilzers to the 
vicinity of Noland's Ferry, to prevent their crossing, 
They took up a position on the Maryland side of the 
canal, which runs parallel with the river. 
The euemy appeared and succeeded in crossing, 
when Col. Banning destroyed the canal bridge, 
killed live of the enemy, and withdrew before the 
large force with no loss. From that time it was 
known that the enemy had entered Maryland, and 
Col. Miles began to strengthen his position at every 
point. All the infantry, with, the exception of the 
three months’ men, were raw troops. GeD. White 
retreated about this time to Martinsburgh, via Har¬ 
per’s Ferry, leaving a portion of his command here. 
On Thursday evening, being obliged to evacuate 
Martinsburgb, owing to the approach of Stonewall 
Jackson, the remainder of Gen. White’s brigade fell 
back to the Ferry. 
The Fiout of Fuidav.—O n the morning of this 
day the enemy had begun to make their appear¬ 
ance, three miles away, on the Maryland Heights, 
near Solomon's Gap, having ascended from the rear. 
During the week we had advanced to the extreme 
top of the mountain, and constructed a barricade of 
trees four hundred yards in front of what, is known 
as tbe “ Look-out,” and not far from an open clear¬ 
ing. Col. Ford, of the 32d Ohio, appointed to guard 
the Heights, desired very much to make the fight at 
Solomon’s Gap, through which they would have to 
enter, believing that he could hold it suceessfidly. 
Being, however, overruled iu his wish, he deployed 
ou Friday afternoon portions of his own and the 
126th New York as pickets, under Maj. Hewitt, 32d 
Ohio, along the mountain this side of the Gap. 
Skirmishing commenced at about half-past three, 
continuing until sundown. Owing to the thick 
underbrush, the skirmish was of a bushwhacking 
character, aB, indeed, was all the fighting on the 
Heights. The Garibaldi Guards. 39th New York, 
were in the meantime scouting still further to the 
left. Under cover of night Maj. Hewitt deployed 
his men as pickets from one side to the other of the 
mountain, and then went down to headquarters to 
ask for re-enforcements, believing that the enemy 
would attack him in force on the morrow. He was 
promised two or three regiments as soon as they' 
could come up in the morning. 
Few slept that night. At daybreak the lino of 
battle was formed about three hundred yards in 
front of our barricade, as follows: —Companies K 
and D, 1st Maryland Home Brigade, held the extreme 
right, the 126th New York next in order, 32d Ohio 
front and center, Garibaldi Guard extreme left. 
The re-enforcements were sent up late, eight com¬ 
panies of the 3d Maryland Home Brigade not reach¬ 
ing the field until 8 o’clock, and the 111th New York 
not until near noon, too late to render any assistance 
to companies I and 11 of the 1st Maryland cavalry. 
“Russel’s Roughs” advanced on foot, with revolv¬ 
ers and carbines in hand, in front of the line of bat¬ 
tle near to the clearing. The enemy appearing on 
the other side, they fell buck. The rebels then, 
about 7 o'clock, opened with musketry on the front 
and right, and made two partial charges, in which 
they were handsomely repulsed. Fighting became 
general along the whole line, continuing one hour. 
At the end of this time the enemy received re- 
enforcements and advanced with terrific yells, at 
the same time beating the long roll. The 126th New 
York then became disorganized, and the whole line 
tell hack to the barricade, fighting as they receded. 
Having reached the barricade, a new stand was 
made. Col. Sherrill, of the 126th, gallantly dis¬ 
mounted from his horse, and with revolver iu each 
hand, rallied his wavering troops. The balls fell 
I thick and fast around him, but he never flinched, 
