The Sun.
London, England, 1862-10-04 00:00:00

flanks. Hooker, at the very outset, threw his
column so far into the centre of the rebel lines, that
they were compelled to threaten him on the flank
to secure their own centre.

Nothing of all this was perceptible from the hills
in front. Some directions of the rebel lines had been
disclosed by the smoke of their guns, but the whole
interior formation of the country beyond the hills
was completely coneealed. When M'Clellan
arranged his order of battle it must have been upon
information, or have been left to his corps and divi-
sion commanders to discover for themselves.

Up to three o'clock Burnside had made little pro-
gress. His attack on the bridge had been success-
ful, but the delay had been so great that to the
observer it appeared as if M'Clellan's plans must
have been seriously disarranged. It is impossible
not to suppose that the attacks on right and left
were meant in a measure to correspond, for other-
wise the enemy had only to repel Hooker on the
one hand, then transfer his troops apd push them
against Burnside.

Here was the difference between Smith and Burn-
side. The former did his work at once, and lost
all his men at once—that is, all whom he lost at
all; Burnside seems to have attacked cautiously, in
order to save his men, and sending successively ins
sufficient forces against a position of strength, dis-
tributed his loss over a greater period of time, but
yet lost none the less in the end.
Finally, at four o'clock, M'Clellan sent simulta-
neous orders to Burnside and Franklin—to the for-
mer to advance and carry the batteries in his front
at all hazards and any cost ; to the latter to carry
the woods next in front of him to the left, which
the rebels still held. The order to Franklin, how-
ever, was practically countermanded, in consequence
of a message from Gen. Sumner, that if Franklin
went on and was repulsed, his own corps was not
yet sufficiently reorganised to be depended on as a
reserve.

Franklin, thereupon, was directed to run no risk
of losing his present position, and, instead of send-
ing his infantry into the woods, contented himself
with advancing his batteries over the breadth of
the fields in front, supporting them with heavy
columns of infantry, and attacking with energy
the rebel batteries immediately opposed to him.
His movement was a success, so far as it went, the
batteries maintaining their new ground, and sen-
sibly affecting the steadiness of the rebel fire. That
being once accomplished, and all hazard of the right
being again forced back having been dispelled, the
movement of Burnside became at once the turning
point of success, and the fate of the day depended
on him. How extraordinary the situation was
may be judged from a moment's consideration of the
facts. It is understood that from the outset Burn-
side's attack was expected to be decisive, as it cer-
tainly must have been if things went well else.
where, and if he succeeded in establishing himself
on the Sharpsburg road in the rebel rear.
Generals Hooker, and Sumner, and Franklin, and
Mansfield were all sent to the right three miles
away, while Porter seems to have done double duty
with his single corps in front, both supporting the
batteries and holding himself in reserve. With all
this immense force on the right but 16,000 were
given to Burnside for the decisive movement of the
day.
Still more unfortunate in its results was the total
failure of these separate attacks on the right and left
to sustain, or in any manner co-operate with each
other. Burnside hesitated for hours in front of the
bridge, which should have been carried at once by
a coup de main. Meantime Hooker had been fight-
ing for four hours with various fortune, but final
success. Sumner had come up too late to join in
the decisive attack which his earlier arrival would
probably have counted into a complete success; and
Franklin reached the scene only when Sumner had
been repulsed. Probably before his arrival the re-
bels had transferred a considerable number of troops 1
to their right to meet the attack of Burnside, the ;
direction of which was then suspected or developed.
Attacking first with one regiment, then with two,
and delaying both for artillery, Burnside was not
over the bridge before 2 o'clock—perhaps not till 3.
He advanced slowly up the slopes in front, his bat-
teries in rear covering, to some extent, the move-
ment of the infantry. A desperate fight was going
on in a deep ravine on his right, the rebel batteries
were in full play, and apparently very annoying
and destructive, while heavy columns of rebel troops
were plainly visible, advancing as if careless of con-
cealment, along the road and over the hills in the
direction of Burnside's forces. It was at this point
of time that M'Clellan sent him the order to ad-
vance and carry the batteries in his front at all
hazards.

Burnside obeyed it most gallantly. Getting his
troops well in hand and sending a portion of his
artillery to the front, he advanced them, with ra-
pidity and the most determined vigour, straight up
the hill in front, on the top of which the rebels had
maintained their most dangerous battery. The
movement was in plain view of INlTlellan's posi-
tion, and as Franklin on the other side sent his bat-
teries into the field about the same time, the battle
seemed to open in all directions with greater acti-
vity than ever.

The fight in the ravine was in full progress, the
batteries which Porter supported were firing away
with new vigour, Franklin was blazing away on
the right and hill-top ridge and woods along the
whole line were crested and veiled with white clouds
of smoke. All day had been clear and bright since
the early cloudy morning, and now this whole
magnificent, unequalled scene shone with the splen-
dour of an afternoon September sum Four miles
of battle, its glory all visible, its horrors all hidden,
the fate of the republic hanging on the hour—could
any one be insensible of its grandeur !

There are two hills on the left of the road, the
furthest and lowest. The rebels have batteries on
both. Burnside is ordered to carry the nearest to
him, which is the furthest from the road. His guns
opening first from this new position in front more
entirely controlled and silenced the enemy's artil-
lery. The infantry came on at once, moving rapidly
and steadily up long, dark lanes, and broad, dark
recesses, being plainly visible without a glass as
they moved over the green hillside. The next
moment the road in which the rebel battery was
planted
into the
with clouds of dust swiftly
descending the valley. Underneath was a
tumult of waggons, guns, horses, and men flying at
speed down the road. Blue flashes of smoke burst
now and then among them, a horse or a man or half
a dozen went down, and then the whirlwind swept
on. The hill was carried, but could it be held ?
The rebel columns, before seen moving to the left,
increased their pace. The guns on the hill above
send an angry tempest of shell down among Burn-
side's guns and men. He had formed his columns
apparently in the near angles of two fields border-
ing the road—high ground about them everywhere,
except in rear. In another moment a rebel battle
line appears on the brow of the ridge above them,
moves swiftly down in the most perfect order, and
though met by incessant discharges of musketry,
of which we plainly see the flashes, does not fire a
gun. White spaces show where men are falling,
but they close up instantly, and still the line ad-
vanees. The brigades of Burnside are in heavy
column ; they will not give way before a bayonet
charge in line. The rebels think twice before they
dash into these hostile masses.

There is a halt, the rebel left gives way and
scatters over the field, the rest stand fast and fire.
More infantry comes up; Burnside is outnumbered,
flanked, compelled to yield the hill he took so
bravely. His position is no longer one of attack ;
he defends himself with untaltering firmness, but
he sends to M'Clellan for help. M'Clellan's glass
for the last half-hour has seldom been turned away
from the left. He sees clearly enough that Burn-
side is pressed—needs no messenger to tell him that.
His face grows darker with anxious thought. Look-
ing down into the valley where 15,000 troops are
lying he turns a half-questioning look on Fitz-John
Porter, who stands by his side, gravely scanning
the field. They are Porter's troops below, are fresh
and only
impatient to share in this fight. But Por-
terremountscannotbe slowly shakes his head and one may believe that
the same thought is passing through the minds of
both generals. "They are the only heroes of the
armmy,c;he
spared."bis
horse, and, with Porter
and a dezen 9fIi9OXS of his stuff',rides to 04
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