The Madison daily leader. [volume] (Madison, S.D.) 1890-current, 1890-12-24


tive numbers of the dead on each side,
but from my own observations aud the
opinions of old, experienced officers,
onr late foes seemed TO outnumber our
dead in the proportion Of four TO one
Two days of laborious sepulture viii
be necessary before they are hidden
away in the bosom Of our cherishing
mother; during two days more Of sun
light and darkness, of hot noontids
and chilly midnight, must some Of
these poor mangled forms lie here, un-
touched, INTENDED, to be hurried by
stranger hands at last into q common.
and nameless grave. Thank God that
to the former occupants of these de-
laced bodies, now dwellers in other,
far mansions, the fate Of these, their
former habitations, - no longer of in
terest. Not for these poor shipwrecked
forms, then, need we reserve our pity,
but for the broken circles of which
every man among these unburied thou.
sands formed a part-for the homes
! throughout the South and the North
made wretched this day with the first
hints OF their new sorrow-for the
! widow, the orphan, the mother, the
loved ones all. oh, war! war; war
Out OF this sad presence silently we
rode toward the setting sun, to find
our headquarters tents pitched on the
battlefield, and to be soon seeking in
sleep forgetfulness of war and all its
horrors.
The next day was q quiet one. At
our mess-table in the morning ID was
generally thought that we would move
before night, and every moment was
therefore occupied In bringing up ar
rears of staff business. Late in The
afternoon, however, rode odt TO visit
a part of the battlefield / had not
seen, once more to have a partial re-
turn OF yesterdays impressions. The
van of that immense army of visitors,
which for several weeks came pouring
IN to see Antietam field, had already
arrived, and many citizens were now
picking up relics of the battle, and ex-
ploriug every part of the ground.
Hither came the father or brother
from New England searching for his
dead; here, also, the distracted wife
sought ont the grave of her heroic
husband. The Hagerstown pike for
weeks saw every afternoon almost one
continuous funeral process on, bearing
away to the North the mangled bodies
of the North's bravest sons. More
than Thousand, perhaps, were thua
carried home 10 sleep among their
kindred-to repose beneath commemo-
rative stones, TO which all of their
name and family shall point hereafter
with natural and patriotic pride.
At first IL had seemed TO me better
10 permit our brave boys to rest nm,
disturbed under the bullet-scafed
trees. in the little glens. or out ia the
fields, where they died for the good
cause, aud where they had been laid
by their comrades; but when / saw
the mournful pleasure with which
their graves were discovered by ref&A-
tives who had come hundreds of miles
10 claim their own, and the affection
ate tenderness, not unmixed with
pride, with which they lifted the be-
loved forms, shrouded only in uniforms
of blue, into their collins, and the eyi-
dent relief with which they commenced
their journey home, / had reason to
change my mind.
Stretching in front of the fields ad-
joining our camping ground was one
of the long fence-rail barricades of the
enemy, and behind ID @ continuous pile
Of straw indicated their sleeping spot
at night. They had left behind them
some 16.O00 muskets, aud details of
men were engaged in collecting them.
The burial parties were still busy; ii
was not yet half accomplished. As
we rode on We met . friend guiding
couple of ambulances; n he was not
surgeon We inquired his destination,
xhsn he teld IA that dHFiRg his after
noon ride he had discovered, in barn
on the edge of the battle field, some
twenty rebels so desperately wounded
that they had been unable TO help
and had therefore remained
aud without food ever since
the battle. He was now going with
the ambulances to bring the poor fsl.
lows into one of our hospitals.
Our visit this evening was again to
some of the most severely contested
points, to be awe-struck, sickened, al
most benumbed by the sight that
would never grow familiar. Within
this space of more than a mile square,
bhis spot, once DcaulnhA Win hhnu"
some residences and well-cultiyated
farms, isolated, hedged in with verd-
ure, sacred to quiet, calm content, the
hottest fury of mans hottest wrath
had expended itself, burning dwell
ings and well-hlled barns. plowing
fields of ripened grain with artillery,
everywhere, through corn
feld, wood and valley, the most awful
of war Not q building
about US which was not deserted by its
and rent and torn by shot
md shell, not field which had not
Witnessed the fierce and bloody en-
,ounter of armed and desperate men.
Truly, the field after the fight is more
errible than the scene of battle. -Cht-
,dgD Ledger.