"Our neighborhood is one vast graveyard." A civilian account of the carnage of Antietam
The
following letter, originally published in the October 16, 1862 issue of the Weekly
Lancaster [Ohio] Gazette, was written by Sharpsburg resident Dr. Augustin
A. Biggs, who later served as the first president and superintendent of
Antietam National Cemetery. Biggs wrote this letter nearly two weeks after the Battle of Antietam to his uncle Elijah Kalb, who was then postmaster of the small Fairfield
County town of Rushville, Ohio. Kalb was the younger brother of Mary Biggs, Dr.
Biggs’s mother.
Dr. Augustin Asbury Biggs |
Augustin Asbury Biggs was born to John
and Mary Biggs on December 27, 1812 in Double Pipe Creek, Maryland, and
attended Jefferson Medical College of Philadelphia before entering the practice
of medicine in Sharpsburg during the 1830s. Dr. Biggs specialized in
obstetrics, and helped deliver more than three thousand infants during his
fifty-three-year career. A county history described him as:
of
a gentle and retiring nature, but at the same time he took an active interest
in everything pertaining to the welfare of the community. In politics, he was a
Whig before the Civil War and during the war was a strong Union man. He
represented the state of Maryland as a trustee and one of the original
incorporators of the Antietam National Cemetery, and was first president of the
Board. As general superintendent of the cemetery during its construction and up
to the time of its transfer to the United States, he was originator of the plan
upon which it was laid out and of the order of the graves. His patriotism and
unselfishness enabled him to link his name for all time with one of the most
beautiful of our national cemeteries.
In this letter, Dr. Biggs related his impressions of
the invading Confederate army, as well as his experiences during the battle as
he huddled in his home with his family while the town was under artillery fire.
The house in which he passed the battle (109 West Main St. in downtown
Sharpsburg) still exists and is known as the William Chapline House, now listed
on the National Register of Historic Places. The gable side of the house shows
shell damage which Biggs described in this letter.
Sharpsburg, Maryland, September 29, 1862
Dear Uncle:
I feel like again resuscitating my correspondence with
you, but not for publication; yet at the same time will not restrict you in
publishing such items of interest as you may think proper. To give you a
correct history of the events in and around Sharpsburg for the past two weeks
would be a task impossible for me. Furthermore, we are yet in such confusion,
and my mind so distracted, that it would be difficult for me to gather up all
that might be interesting to you. I will, however, commence with the first
appearance of the rebels in our vicinity. First was their cavalry, next their
infantry and artillery, and in a very short time our town and neighborhood was
swarming with rebels.
They were poorly clad, indeed, and but few dressed
alike—barefooted, dirty, and filthy in the extreme. To judge from appearances
they have had no change of dress the past twelve months. Some few were clad in
Union soldiers’ dress. Most of them indecently ragged and their person exposed.
They wore a dejected countenance and were seldom seen to smile or indulge in
any hilarity, from the officers to the privates. This feature was remarkable.
They seemed to have no disposition to keep themselves clean, and from
appearances their persons are as filthy as time could make them—all alive with
vermin. I conversed with many and believe there is universal dissatisfaction in
their army. Thousands would desert if they
could, but they say their families and property are in the South and to go
North they could never return to their friends, and would be deprived of all
that they have in this world. Many are anxious for the South to get whipped and
the war brought to a speedy termination. Whenever an opportunity offers, they
destroy and throw away their guns. They say fight they must while under their
officers, and before going into battle each man has to fill his canteen with
whiskey and gunpowder. This was the case before the battle of Sharpsburg.
The battle of Sharpsburg commenced on Tuesday the 16th
just about 4 o’clock P.M., principally with artillery. On the next day
(Wednesday) was resumed and continued without intermission until after dark.
The line of battle was five or six miles long. McClellan’s left wing extended
below the bridge across Antietam on the road leading to Shewman’s. His center
at the bridge at Mumma’s Mill, William Roulett’s, Joseph Poffbarger’s, David B.
Miller’s to William F. Hobb’s farm. The hardest fighting was between William
Roulett’s and Henry Piper’s. I suppose you recollect a lane on the right of the
Hagerstown road, about a half mile from Sharpsburg, leading to William
Roulett’s (formerly John Miller’s) running from thence to the Boonsboro Pike at
the culvert of said pike. It was in this road the rebels had concealed themselves behind the banks and
adjacent cornfield. It was at this place the slaughter on both sides was the
heaviest. It was here that the Federals made a charge on the rebels and drove
them back with terrible loss. In this road they laid in piles three and four
deep. In the cornfield almost every step for several hundred yards around, dead
rebels could be seen. The sight was awful.
In the space of a quarter of a mile dead rebels were
strewn over the ground, also fragments of clothes, hats, caps, guns, horses,
shells, and fragments of shells, and mounted artillery in such profusion that
one could not step foot upon the ground without stepping on some of the effects
of the mighty struggle between the contending armies. The bodies of the men
were laying around mangled in every conceivable manner. Legs off and heads and
parts of heads off, and mortal wounds of every description—the most were from
rifle shots. In this road, large puddles of blood were visible for several days
after the battle. One rebel lay across a fence with three bullet holes in his
posterior. I have not learned how many fell, but from all information I could
get from the rebels, and our own men, the rebel loss was about 7,000 killed and
20,000 wounded at the battle of Sharpsburg. Their loss since the invasion of
Maryland is estimated at 60,000 killed, wounded, and taken prisoners.
On Thursday, the rebels sent a flag of truce for
permission to bury their dead, which was only an excuse to obtain more time to
make their escape—in fact, they commenced retreating Wednesday night which was
continued all day Thursday and Thursday night so that by Friday, all with the
exception of some who refused to go were safely over the river on the Virginia
side. I cannot account for McClellan not renewing the fight on Thursday. If he
had done so, he would have captured the great bulk of the rebel army. The
retreat of the rebels was in much confusion, for they left their dead and a
great number of their wounded on the battlefield. On the day of the battle,
they carried a large proportion of their wounded to Shepherdstown and in the
direction of Winchester. Some of their dead they also carried away. There are
at this time about 4,000 wounded in Shepherdstown.
Our neighborhood is one vast graveyard. The rebels are
buried in ditches dug sufficient to hold as high as eighty—piled in such a
manner as to be barely covered sufficiently over the top layer of men. The
stench is becoming so disagreeable, particularly after sundown, that we can
hardly endure it. In addition to the dead rebels, we had about 400 dead horses
on the field. I cannot describe all as it really was and is at this time. One
thing is remarkably strange, and that is the rapid decomposition of the dead
rebels. On Friday, I rode over the battlefield and with few exceptions they
were all swollen and perfectly black, while the dead Union men were pale and
looked as though life had just departed the body. All I met observed the same
contrast. It must be owing to their taking freely of gunpowder and whiskey.
I must say a little more about the character of the
rebels. They were destitute of everything necessary to sustain life and
comfort. I never saw a set of men reduced so far to the point of starvation.
They would eat anything, no matter how dirty or filthy it was, to satisfy their
craving appetite. They came upon us like a gang of hungry wolves
or hyenas. Nothing could be hid from their grasp. All the fruit and vegetables
of every description were devoured by them. Nearly every house was robbed of
everything eatable. Some few that remained at home succeeded in saving what
they had, but all who were forced to leave town lost everything. When they once
had possession of a house, it was stripped clean, even the children’s clothes,
knives, forks, dishes, and bed clothes—in fact nothing escaped, for what they
could not use, they willfully destroyed. Two thirds of the families in the
place had nothing but the clothes on their backs.
After the battle, several
poor people in town had their houses burned down, after first being robbed of
all that was in them. Money, jewelry, and all articles of any value to them was
carried off. I never thought that human nature in a civilized land could lose,
to such a degree, all sympathy for their fellow beings. They entered several
poor people’s houses and robbed them of everything they had in this world.
Stealing and plunder seemed to be their profession and design. They appear to
have lost all feelings of humanity and self-respect. They would strip
themselves naked in the street and sit down and deliberately pick the vermin
from their ragged garments.
Buried the dead at Antietam. |
The rebels had their batteries planted on the hill
above town extending in line opposite the line included above. This, as a
matter of course, drew the fire of the Federals upon our town. I remained with
my family in my house, otherwise would have lost all by the thieving rebels.
Thanks to a kind Providence, we all escaped being hurt, although the shells
were flying and exploding every moment around us. We suffered but little in
comparison to others. One shell passed through the parlor window and exploded,
tearing up and destroying things at a great rate. In a few moments, I entered
the room and found nothing was on fire. Two shells went through my stable; one
through my hog pen and five struck my house, but none went through the wall.
One shell exploded just over my head and some of the fragments struck the rim
of my hat. One man had his leg shot off on my pavement, and another instantly
killed just above my house. None of the citizens got hurt as far as I know.
There were sixteen rebels killed in town during the shelling.
All this time, some were
busy robbing the vacant houses. Two rebels in James Hill’s house were killed in
the act of breaking open his safe. Few houses escaped unhurt. As many as six
shells passed through some houses and destroyed everything in their course. On
Wednesday night, J. H. Grove’s house was set on fire and came very near setting
the whole town on fire. My house caught fire three times, but I succeeded in
putting it out. David and Samuel Reed’s barn burnt down the same night. On the
day of the battle, the rebels set fire to Samuel Mumma’s house and barn, which
with all his hay and grain, were burnt to ashes. Nearly all the horses are
taken away; hogs and cattle killed and corn fed to their starving stock.
William Cronises’ store was broken open and all his goods taken. At present, it
is a strange sight to see fowl of any description.
We have nearly the whole
of McClellan’s army quartered here, at Harper’s Ferry, and Williamsport. For
five miles around nearly all the fences are gone, and this seems as one vast
plain. We are all in a destitute state, and if the government don’t relieve us,
this neighborhood is ruined. All is lost, and in all probability, the farmers
will not be able to put out any grain this fall.
Truly now I have written
you a doleful letter and in my next my mind may be more composed and have more
time to give you other items of interest.
Yours Truly, A. A. Biggs
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