Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1912-03-24

looked down upon the two armies Jack
son having rejoined Lee in the mean
time) facing each other the fields of
Maryland. 1t seems to me now that the
roar of that day began with the light,
and all through its long and dragging
hours its thunder formed a background
to our pain and terror If we had been
in doubt to our friends whereabouts
now.
There was sitting at the windows
now and counting discharges of guns or
watching the curling smoke. We went
about our work with pale faces and
trembling hands, yet trying to appear
composed for the sake of our patients,
who were much excited. 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 aud
try not to sob, and turn back to the for
lorn hospitals, to the suffering at our
feet and before our eyes. while magma
ton tainted at thought of those other
scenes hidden from Us beyond the Poto-
mac.
On our side of the river there were
noise, confusion. dust; throngs of stray
glers; horsemen galloping about; wag-
ons blocking each other, and teamsters
wrangling. and continued din of shout
lng swearing and rumbling, in the midst
or which men We're dying, fresh wounded
arriving, surgeons amputating limbs and
dressing wounds, women going in and
out with bandages, lint, medicines, food.
An eyer-present sense of anguish, dread,
pity and, l fear, hatred-these are my
recollections of Antietam.
When night came We could sti'-.,ear
the sullen guns and hoarse. indefinite
murmurs that succeeded the days tur-
MOL. That night was dark and lower
Ing and the air heavy and dull Across
the river innumerable campfires were
blazing, and we could but too we'll imag-
inc the scenes that they We're lighting.
We sat in silence, looking into each
others tired faces. There were no inn
patient words. few tears; only silence.
and a drawing close together, as if for
comfort. We were almost hopeless, vet
chung with desperation to the thought
that we We're hoping. But in our hearts
we could not believe that anything human
could have escaped from that appalling
fire
Thursday the two armies lay idly fac
ing each other but We could not be idle.
The wounded continued to arrive until
the town was quite unable TO hold all
the disabled and suffering. They filled
every building and over1owed into the
country round, into farmhouses barns
corncribS, cabinS-wherever four walls
and a roof We're found together Those
able to travel were sent on to Winchester
and other towns back from the river
but their departure seemed to make no
appreciable difference. There were six
churches, and they were all full; The
Odd Fellows Hall, the sFreemasons', the
little town council room. the barnike
pla ue known the drilroom all the pri-
vate houses after their capacity, the
shops and empty buildings, the school
inch of space, and Yet the
cry was for, room.
The unfinished town hail had stood in
naked ugliness for many a long day
Somebody threw a few rough boards
across the beams, placed piles of straw
over them. laid down single planks to
walk upon, and %, it was hospital at
once. The stone warehouses down in the
ravne and by the river had been passed
by, because low and damp and undesir-
able as sanitariums. but now their doors
and windows were thrown wide. and, with
barely time allowed to sweep them, they
were all occupied-even the ''old blue fac
tory an antiquated, crazy, dismal build
ing Of blue stucco that peeled off i'm great