“Returning to my command, I repeated General Jackson’s order to my brigade commanders and directed them to listen to the sound of Stuart’s guns. We all confidently expected to hear the welcome sound by two o’clock at least, and as that hour approached every ear was on the alert. Napoleon at Waterloo did not listen more intently for the sound of Grouchy’s fire than did we for Stuart’s. Two o’clock came, but nothing was heard of Stuart. Half-past two, and then three, and still Stuart made no sign.
“About half-past three a staff officer of General Longstreet’s brought me an order to advance and attack the enemy in my front. As the execution of this order would have materially interfered with Jackson’s plans, I thought it my duty before beginning the movement to communicate with General Longstreet personally. I found him in rear of the position in which I had posted Cooke in the morning, and upon informing him of Jackson’s intentions, he withdrew his order.
“While we were discussing this subject, Jackson himself joined us with the information of Stuart’s failure to turn the Federal right, for the reason that he found it securely posted on the Potomac. Upon my expressing surprise at this statement, Jackson replied that he also had been surprised, as he had supposed the Potomac much further away; but he remarked that Stuart had an excellent eye for topography, and it must be as he represented. ‘It is a great pity,’ he added; ‘we should have driven McClellan into the Potomac.’”[[20]]
That a counterstroke which would have combined a frontal and flank attack would have been the best chance of destroying the Federal army can hardly be questioned. The front so bristled with field artillery, and the ridge beyond the Antietam was so strong in heavier ordnance, that a purely frontal attack, such as Longstreet suggested, was hardly promising; but the dispositions which baffled Stuart were the work of a sound tactician. Thirty rifled guns had been assembled in a single battery a mile north of the West Wood, where the Hagerstown turnpike ascends a commanding ridge, and the broad channel of the Potomac is within nine hundred yards. Here had rallied such portions of Hooker’s army corps as had not dispersed, and here Mansfield’s two divisions had reformed; and although the infantry could hardly have opposed a resolute resistance the guns were ready to repeat the lesson of Malvern Hill. Against the rifled pieces the light Confederate smooth-bores were practically useless. Stuart’s caution was fully justified, and the sun sank on an indecisive battle.
“The blessed night came, and brought with it sleep and forgetfulness and refreshment to many; but the murmur of the night wind, breathing over fields of wheat and clover, was mingled with the groans of the countless sufferers of both armies. Who can tell, who can even imagine, the horrors of such a night, while the unconscious stars shone above, and the unconscious river went rippling by?”[[21]] Out of 130,000 men upon the ground, 21,000 had been killed or wounded, more than sixteen per cent.; and 25,000 of the Federals can hardly be said to have been engaged.
The losses of the Confederate left have already been enumerated. Those of the centre and the right, although A. P. Hill reported only 350 casualties, had hardly been less severe. In all 9,500 officers and men, one-fourth of the total strength, had fallen, and many of the regiments had almost disappeared.[[22]] The 17th Virginia, for instance, of Longstreet’s command, took into battle 9 officers and 46 men; of these 7 officers and 24 men were killed or wounded, and 10 taken prisoners, leaving 2 officers and 12 men to represent a regiment which was over 1,000 strong at Bull Run. Yet as the men sank down to rest on the line of battle, so exhausted that they could not be awakened to eat their rations; as the blood cooled and the tension on the nerves relaxed, and even the officers, faint with hunger and sickened with the awful slaughter, looked forward with apprehension to the morrow, from one indomitable heart the hope of victory had not yet vanished. In the deep silence of the night, more oppressive than the stunning roar of battle, Lee, still mounted, stood on the highroad to the Potomac, and as general after general rode in wearily from the front, he asked quietly of each, “How is it on your part of the line?” Each told the same tale: their men were worn out; the enemy’s numbers were overwhelming; there was nothing left but to retreat across the Potomac before daylight. Even Jackson had no other counsel to offer. His report was not the less impressive for his quiet and respectful tone. He had had to contend, he said, against the heaviest odds he had ever met. Many of his divisional and brigade commanders were dead or wounded, and his loss had been severe. Hood, who came next, was quite unmanned. He exclaimed that he had no men left. “Great God!” cried Lee, with an excitement he had not yet displayed, “where is the splendid division you had this morning?” “They are lying on the field, where you sent them,” was the reply, “for few have straggled. My division has been almost wiped out.”
After all had given their opinion, there was an appalling silence, which seemed to last for several minutes, and then General Lee, rising erect in his stirrups, said, “Gentlemen, we will not cross the Potomac to-night. You will go to your respective commands, strengthen your lines; send two officers from each brigade towards the ford to collect your stragglers and get them up. Many have come in. I have had the proper steps taken to collect all the men who are in the rear. If McClellan wants to fight in the morning, I will give him battle again. Go!” Without a word of remonstrance the group broke up, leaving their great commander alone with his responsibility, and, says an eyewitness, “if I read their faces aright, there was not one but considered that General Lee was taking a fearful risk.”[[23]] So the soldiers’ sleep was undisturbed. Through the September night they lay beside their arms, and from the dark spaces beyond came the groans of the wounded and the nameless odours of the battle-field. Not often has the night looked down upon a scene more terrible. The moon, rising above the mountains, revealed the long lines of men and guns, stretching far across hill and valley, waiting for the dawn to shoot each other down, and between the armies their dead lay in such numbers as civilised war has seldom seen. So fearful had been the carnage, and comprised within such narrow limits, that a Federal patrol, it is related, passing into the corn-field, where the fighting had been fiercest, believed that they had surprised a whole Confederate brigade. There, in the shadow of the woods, lay the skirmishers, their muskets beside them, and there, in regular ranks, lay the line of battle, sleeping, as it seemed, the profound sleep of utter exhaustion. But the first man that was touched was cold and lifeless, and the next, and the next; it was the bivouac of the dead.
Sept. 18 When the day dawned the Confederate divisions, reinforced by some 5,000 or 6,000 stragglers, held the same position as the previous evening, and over against them, seen dimly through the mist, lay the Federal lines. The skirmishers, crouching behind the shattered fences, confronted each other at short range; the guns of both armies were unlimbered, and the masses of infantry, further to the rear, lay ready for instant conflict. But not a shot was fired. The sun rose higher in the heavens; the warm breath of the autumn morning rustled in the woods, but still the same strange silence prevailed. The men spoke in undertones, watching intently the movements of staff officers and orderlies; but the ranks lay as still as the inanimate forms, half hidden by the trodden corn, which lay so thickly between the lines; and as the hours passed on without stir or shot, the Southern generals acknowledged that Lee’s daring in offering battle was fully justified. The enemy’s aggressive strength was evidently exhausted; and then arose the question, Could the Confederates attack? It would seem that the possibility of a great counterstroke had already been the subject of debate, and that Lee, despite the failure of the previous evening, and Jackson’s adverse report, believed that the Federal right might be outflanked and overwhelmed. “During the morning,” writes General Stephen D. Lee, “a courier from headquarters came to my battalion of artillery with a message that the Commander-in-Chief wished to see me. I followed the courier, and on meeting General Lee, he said, ‘Colonel Lee, I wish you to go with this courier to General Jackson, and say that I sent you to report to him.’ I replied, ‘General, shall I take my batteries with me?’ He said, ‘No, just say that I told you to report to him, and he will tell you what he wants.’ I soon reached General Jackson. He was dismounted, with but few persons round him. He said to me, ‘Colonel Lee, I wish you to take a ride with me,’ and we rode to the left of our lines with but one courier, I think. We soon reached a considerable hill and dismounted. General Jackson then said, ‘Let us go up this hill, and be careful not to expose yourself, for the Federal sharpshooters are not far off.’ The hill bore evidence of fierce fight the day before.[[24]] A battery of artillery had been on it, and there were wrecked caissons, broken wheels, dead bodies, and dead horses around. General Jackson said: ‘Colonel, I wish you to take your glasses and carefully examine the Federal line of battle.’ I did so, and saw a remarkably strong line of battle, with more troops than I knew General Lee had. After locating the different batteries, unlimbered and ready for action, and noting the strong skirmish line, in front of the dense masses of infantry, I said to him, ‘General, that is a very strong position, and there is a large force there.’ He said, ‘Yes. I wish you to take fifty pieces of artillery and crush that force, which is the Federal right. Can you do it?’ I can scarcely describe my feelings as I again took my glasses, and made an even more careful examination. I at once saw such an attempt must fail. More than fifty guns were unlimbered and ready for action, strongly supported by dense lines of infantry and strong skirmish lines, advantageously posted. The ground was unfavourable for the location of artillery on the Confederate side, for, to be effective, the guns would have to move up close to the Federal lines, and that, too, under fire of both infantry and artillery. I could not bring myself to say all that I felt and knew. I said, ‘Yes, General; where will I get the fifty guns?’ He said, ‘How many have you?’ I replied, ‘About twelve out of the thirty I carried into the action the day before.’ (My losses had been very great in men, horses, and carriages.) He said, ‘I can furnish you some, and General Lee says he can furnish some.’ I replied, ‘Shall I go for the guns?’ ‘No, not yet,’ he replied. ‘Colonel Lee, can you crush the Federal right with fifty guns?’ I said, ‘General, I can try. I can do it if anyone can.’ He replied, ‘That is not what I asked you, sir. If I give you fifty guns, can you crush the Federal right?’ I evaded the question again and again, but he pressed it home. Finally I said, ‘General, you seem to be more intent upon my giving you my technical opinion as an artillery officer, than upon my going after the guns and making the attempt.’ ‘Yes, sir,’ he replied, ‘and I want your positive opinion, yes or no.’ I felt that a great crisis was upon me, and I could not evade it. I again took my glasses and made another examination. I waited a good while, with Jackson watching me intently.
“I said, ‘General, it cannot be done with fifty guns and the troops you have near here.’ In an instant he said, ‘Let us ride back, Colonel.’ I felt that I had positively shown a lack of nerve, and with considerable emotion begged that I might be allowed to make the attempt, saying, ‘General, you forced me to say what I did unwillingly. If you give the fifty guns to any other artillery officer, I am ruined for life. I promise you I will fight the guns to the last extremity, if you will only let me command them.’ Jackson was quiet, seemed sorry for me, and said, ‘It is all right, Colonel. Everybody knows you are a brave officer and would fight the guns well,’ or words to that effect. We soon reached the spot from which we started. He said, ‘Colonel, go to General Lee, and tell him what has occurred since you reported to me. Describe our ride to the hill, your examination of the Federal position, and my conversation about your crushing the Federal right with fifty guns, and my forcing you to give your opinion.’
“With feelings such as I never had before, nor ever expect to have again, I returned to General Lee, and gave a detailed account of my visit to General Jackson, closing with the account of my being forced to give my opinion as to the possibility of success. I saw a shade come over General Lee’s face, and he said, ‘Colonel, go and join your command.’