At sunset, I looked once more from the mountain. The evidences had increased that Lee intended to cross the Potomac.
The morning of the 19th dawned. Lee was gone! He took away all his artillery, except one iron gun and some disabled caissons and wagons.
Riding now over all the field, I found many Rebel dead in the woods by the church. Among them were bodies clothed in the Union blue, lying where they fell, close up to the Rebel line.
There was one soldier whose pulse was forever still, whose eyes looked straight toward the sky. The ground was stained with his blood, which had flowed from a wound in his breast. Upon his countenance there was a pleasant smile, and a brightness as if a ray of glory had fallen upon him from heaven. His Bible was open upon his heart. I read:—
"The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures; he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul; he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me."
I could not discover his name. He was unknown to the living. He belonged to a New York regiment, that was all I could learn. Doubtless the Lord was with him when he passed through the valley.
The slaughter had been terrible in the sunken road, where French and Richardson had charged. Across the fences, twenty thousand muskets had flashed. Williston's, Walcott's, Owen's, and Ayer's batteries had made terrible havoc in the ranks of Hill. Some of the enemy had fallen towards the advancing columns; some were lying across the fence behind them, shot while endeavoring to escape; some were killed while loading their guns; one while tearing the cartridge with his teeth. He had died instantly, and the cartridge was in his hand.
There was an officer still grasping his sword. He had fallen while cheering his men, with all his muscles set, his nerves under tension, the word of command on his lips. It was a fearful sight along that road. It was as if a mighty mower had swept them down at a single stroke.
Sharpsburg was full of Rebel wounded. I conversed with an officer of Walker's command.