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“We could hear the incessant explosions
of artillery, the shrieking whistles of the shells, and the sharper,
deadlier, more thrilling roll of musketry; while every now and then the echo
of some charging cheer would come, borne by the wind, and as the human
voice pierced that demoniacal clangor we would catch our breath and listen,
and try not to sob, and turn back to the forlorn hospitals, to the
suffering at our feet and before our eyes, while imagination fainted at
thought of those other scenes hidden from us beyond the Potomac.
On our side of the river there
were noise, confusion, dust; throngs of stragglers; horsemen galloping
about; wagons blocking each other, and teamsters wrangling; and a continued
din of shouting, swearing, and rumbling, in the midst of which men were
dying, fresh wounded arriving, surgeons amputating limbs and dressing
wounds, women going in and out with bandages, lint, medicines, food. An
ever-present sense of anguish, dream, pity, and, I fear, hatred---these are
my recollections of Antietam.”
A
Woman's Recollections of Antietam
By
Mary Bedinger Mitchell
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