Defending the Sunken Road
In part three of this series describing the experience
of the 8th Ohio at the Battle of Antietam, we examine the battle
from the perspective of the men the 8th Ohio faced at the sunken
road- the Confederates of Colonel John B. Gordon’s 6th Alabama,
Colonel Charles C. Tew’s 2nd North Carolina, and Colonel Risden Tyler
Bennett’s 14th North Carolina. By reading what their opponents wrote
of the battle, we gain some additional insight into the 8th Ohio’s
experience at Antietam.
To circle back a bit, at the dawn of September 17,
1862, General Daniel H. Hill’s division was ordered by General Lee to take a
position along the sunken road located north of the Henry Piper farm, this
constituting the Confederate center. General Robert Rodes’ Alabama brigade of
approximately 850 men went into line to the left of the intersection of the
Roulette farm lane and the sunken road; the road makes a slight turn here, and
to Rodes’ right the 1150-man North Carolina brigade of General George B.
Anderson filed into the road. Later that
morning, starting around 9 o’clock, General William H. French division attacked
the sunken road in three successive waves of attack, the last wave being led by
General Nathan Kimball, the 8th Ohio being one of the right center regiment
of Kimball’s line. As Kimball’s men approached the sunken road, a heavy fire
from Rodes and Anderson’s lines halted him and the two lines engaged in some of
the heaviest fighting of the battle.
Starting with the 6th Alabama,
the right flank regiment of General Robert Rodes brigade…
An officer of the 6th Alabama wrote of the
heavy losses sustained by his regiment in the sunken road. “We went into action
with 265 men,” he wrote, “our loss in killed, wounded, and missing is 190. The
right of our regiment was exposed to an enfilading fire, but it still stood
battling with the foe until all of the first six companies were killed or
wounded save a half dozen men, only one man and one officer escaping from four
companies. It was here our gallant Colonel Gordon, though wounded and bleeding
profusely in four places, continued cheering his men though oft entreated to
leave the field. Seeing all his men dead or dying till one could have walked
the length of six companies on their bodies, his heart grew sick at the
terrible havoc of death around him. Suffering from loss of blood, he attempted
to rise, receiving at the time a bad wound in his face which struck him to
earth. Recovering his senses, he found he had strength enough to crawl 100
yards to the rear where the writer, in attempting to rally some men, found him
all covered with blood and with the assistance of others bore him from the
field.” (Letter from “Soldier,” Montgomery
Weekly Advertiser (Alabama), November 19, 1862, pg. 1)
Colonel John B. Gordon himself vividly recalled the effect
of Federal fire as Kimball’s two regiments opened upon his 6th
Alabama. “The fire from these hostile American lines now became furious and
deadly,” he wrote in 1903. “The list of the slain lengthened with every passing
moment. One of my officers long afterward assured me that he could have walked
on the dead bodies of my men from one end of the line to the other. Before I
was wholly disabled and carried to the rear, I walked along my line and found
an old man and his son lying side by side. The son was dead, the father
mortally wounded. The gray-haired hero called me and said, ‘Here we are. My boy
is dead, and I shall go soon, but it is all right.’ Of such were the early
volunteers.”
Colonel Gordon’s fortune of passing through battle
unscathed ended under the staggering fire at Antietam. He was wounded in the
calf of his right leg at the first fire. “The persistent Federals, who had lost so
heavily from repeated repulses, seemed now determined to kill enough
Confederates to make the credits and debits of the battle’s balance sheet more
even. Both sides stood in the open at short range and without the semblance of
breastworks and the firing was doing a deadly work. I was again shot higher up
on the same leg, but still no bone was broken. I was able to walk along the
line and give encouragement to my resolute riflemen. Later in the day a third
ball pierced my arm, tearing asunder the tendons and mangling the flesh. A
fourth ball ripped through my shoulder, leaving its base and a wad of clothing
in its track. I could still stand and walk, although the shocks and loss of
blood had left but little of my normal strength.
"I thought I saw some wavering
in my line near the extreme right [directly opposite the 8th Ohio]
and Private Benjamin F. Vickers of the 6th Alabama volunteered to
carry any orders I might wish to send. I directed him to go quickly and remind
the men of the pledge to General Lee, and say to them that I was still on the
field and intended to stay there. He bounded away like an Olympic racer, but he
had gone less than 50 yards when he fell, instantly killed by a ball through
his head. I then attempted to go myself, although I was bloody and faint, and
my legs did not bear me steadily. I had gone but a short distance when I was
shot down by a fifth ball, which struck me squarely in the face and passed out,
barely missing the jugular vein. I fell forward and lay unconscious with my
face in my cap; and it would seem that I might have been smothered by the blood
running into my cap from this last wound but for the act of some Yankee who had
at a previous hour shot a hole through the cap which let the blood run out.”
Colonel Gordon wrote of the brave Vickers: “There was
no better soldier in either army than Vickers. He had passed unscathed through
two previous wars, in Mexico, I believe, and in Nicaragua. He was in every
battle with his regiment in our Civil War until his death, and always at the
front. The greater the danger, the higher his spirits seemed to soar. The time
came, however, when his luck, or fate, in whose fickle favor he so implicitly
trusted, deserted him. At Antietam, I called for someone who was willing to
take the desperate chances of carrying a message from me to the commander on my
right. Vickers promptly volunteered, with some characteristic remark which
indicated his conviction that he was not born to be killed in battle. There was
a cross-fire from two directions through which he had to pass and of which he
had been advised; but he bounded away with the message almost joyously. He had
not gone many steps from my side when a ball through his head, the first and
last that ever struck him, had placed this brave soldier beyond the possibility
of realizing, in this world at least, the treachery of that fate on which he
depended.”
Moving on to the 2nd North
Carolina, the left-most regiment in General George B. Anderson’s line in the
sunken road…
On the 35th anniversary of Antietam (September
17, 1897), veterans from the 2nd North Carolina were present at the
dedication ceremony for the Irish brigade monument and they adored the
inscription on the stone: “Here Meagher’s New York brigade charged and after a
bloody and desperate encounter at 30 paces were obliged to retire.” Across the
lane the description for Anderson’s brigade read “Here Anderson’s North
Carolina brigade stood and checked the advance of the enemy, driving him back
with great slaughter.” They were gallant gentlemen that could stand and fight
in the open field at 30 paces and hearts of oak that could drive back such a
foe,” wrote Captain Matthew Manley of Co. D in 1900 (Clark, Walter, editor. Histories of the Several Regiments from
North Carolina in the Great War 1861-65, Volume I. State of North Carolina,
1901, pgs. 166-67)
First Lieutenant John C. Gorman of Co. B of the 2nd
North Carolina also fought in the sunken road and was positioned to the right
of the 6th Alabama as the left flank regiment of George B.
Anderson’s brigade of North Carolinians; Co. B was the left flank company of
the regiment. “At daylight on Wednesday morning, we were awakened by heavy
artillery and musket firing on our left, and each man was ordered to his place.
Desperate and heavy does it roll from the left and the sound seems to come
nearer. So we see the wounded come limping toward us, and they say the enemy
has attacked our left flank in heavy force and our men are falling back.
“Look at the cloud of
dust! Our artillery is retreating, and while we are straining our eyes in the
direction of the retreating mass of men that are just emerging in view, away
over the open hills on our left, a galloping courier arrives and directs
General Hill to change his front to the left. Quickly we are faced to the left,
marched through a growing field of corn [Henry Piper’s cornfield on the south
side of the sunken road] and then filed to the left in a long lane that runs
parallel to our left flank. Our whole division took position in the lane-
Ripley on the extreme left, Garland’s next, Rodes’ next, and Anderson on the
right.
“In a few moments I could
see the advancing line of Yankees. Three heavy columns are approaching us,
extending to the right and the left as far as we can see, each column about 100
yards behind the other, and the nearest scarce 400 yards distant. To oppose
this was Hill’s weak, little division, scarce one-fourth as large, and my very
heart sunk within me as I heard General Anderson say to one of his aides to
hurry to the rear and tell General Hill for God’s sake to send us
reinforcements as it was hopeless to contend against the approaching columns.
It was now about 8 o’clock. The battle had begun also on the right of our
position, and Jackson was hotly engaged. Sharpshooters were sent out about 50
yards to the front of us and our line was ordered to lie down in the lane and
hold their fire until the enemy was close to us. I stood near Colonel Tew on
the crest of a hill in front of our position and gazed with tumultuous emotion
over the fast approaching line. Our little corps seemed doomed to destruction,
but not an eye flinched, not a nerve quivered, and you could observe the
battle-light of determination on every countenance and I felt sure we would do
honor to our noble old state that day, though we would not live to see it
again.
“On moved the columns
until I could distinguish the stars on their flaunting banners, see the mounted
officers, and hear their words of command. Just then a Yankee horseman waved
his hat at us and Colonel Tew returned the compliment. It was the last I saw of
the colonel. Our skirmishers began to fire on the advancing line and we
returned to ours. Slowly they approached up the hill and slowly our skirmishers
retired before them, firing as they come. Our skirmishers are ordered to come
into line. Here they are right before us, scarce 50 yards off, but as if with
one feeling, our whole line pours a deadly volley into their ranks- they drop,
reel, stagger, and back their first lines go beyond the crest of the hill. Our
men reload and await for them to approach, while the first column of the enemy
meets the second, rally, and move forward again. They meet with the same
reception and back again they go to come back when met by the third line. Here
they all come. You can see their mounted riders cheering them on and with a
sickly “huzza” they again approach us at a charge, but another volley sends
their whole line reeling back. They then approach to the top of the hill
cautiously, and lying down, we pour into each other one continuous shower of
leaden hail for four long mortal hours.
“The whole air resounds
with the din of arms. Musket, rifle, cannon, and shells pour forth an avalanche
of lead and iron. Our men are protected by about 6 or 8 inches of the wear of
the road, but that is a great protection; they fire cautiously, and apparently
as cool as if shooting at squirrels, taking sure aim every fire. The
protection, however, is not sufficient. The air is full of lead and many are
shot as they are aiming at the enemy, and the groans of the wounded are heard
amid the roar of the musketry. Colonel
Tew was killed about 11 o’clock, a Minie ball penetrating his brain. It is
certain death to leave the road wounded as the balls fly so thick over us. We
hear reinforcements coming up behind us, but the fire is so hot they are not
able to come to our succor and were forced to fall back.
“Our number is
perceptibly reduced by deaths and wounds and our fire slackens, while the enemy
has succeeded in planting a battery which rakes the road and sends many to
eternity at every discharge. Our left has given way [Rodes’ Alabama brigade],
and the enemy has already crossed the lane to our rear. At last the order is
given to fall back, and the few that remain uninjured fall sullenly back. The
enemy, however, have been so badly punished, they are not able to follow us
immediately.”
The 2nd North
Carolina, like the 6th Alabama, took horrendous losses. Colonel Tew
was killed, Captain John Howard mortally wounded and taken prisoner, Captain D.W
Hurtt of Co. I wounded, “and I hear there are only three officers in the
regiment,” reported Gorman. “I was slightly wounded on the head and in the
right foot about 1 o’clock by a bursting shell. I had no bones broken and I was
able to get off the field by myself and did so without being hit again. I went
to the rear, had my wounds dressed, hired a horse, and knowing the vicinity of
the battlefield would be crowded with wounded, came to this place.
[Charlestown, Virginia]” (Letter from First Lieutenant John C. Gorman, Spirit of the Age (Raleigh, North Carolina),
October 6, 1862, pg. 3)
And ending with the 14th North Carolina,
located to the right of the 2nd North Carolina…
The 14th North
Carolina’s position in the sunken road was on the right of the 2nd
North Carolina, and they likewise took heavy losses. It entered the battle with
375 men. “It fought all day and while other regiments and men were running, the
14th stood ‘like a Stonewall’ and repulsed three heavy columns of
the enemy and would have driven back the fourth but their ammunition gave out.
They were exhausted, and they were alone and unsupported, and were obliged to
retreat. The next day I was obliged to carry rations to the regiment and found
27 [total], men and officers. The next day we collected 53 men of the immortal
14th who came out unhurt.” Co. E, called the Oak City Guards, went
into the fight with 35 men and came out with only two uninjured. (“The 14th
N.C. Regiment,” Semi-Weekly Standard
(North Carolina), October 3, 1862, pg. 3)
Captain Thomas B. Beall
of Co. I of the 14th North Carolina stated that his brigade
retreated from the sunken road when a Federal column broke through Rodes’
brigade and came in on their left flank. “We were just getting ready to receive
three heavy lines in our front when an officer from the right came to us in
great haste and informed our colonel [R. Tyler Bennett] that we were flanked at
that point and called our attention to a column coming perpendicular to our
rear. Colonel Bennet ordered us to fall back which was done under a murderous
fire from front and flank.” (“Reminiscences About Sharpsburg,” Confederate Veteran, August 1893, pg.
246)
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