The definitive account of the Battle of Antietam, the bloodiest day of the Civil War. The memory of the Battle of Antietam was so haunting that when, nine months later, Major Rufus Dawes learned another Antietam battle might be on the horizon, he wrote, "I hope not, I dread the thought of the place." In this definitive account, historian D. Scott Hartwig chronicles the single bloodiest day in American history, which resulted in 23,000 casualties. The Battle of Antietam marked a vital turning point in the afterward, the conflict could no longer be understood as a limited war to preserve the Union, but was now clearly a conflict over slavery. Though the battle was tactically inconclusive, Robert E. Lee withdrew first from the battlefield, thus handing President Lincoln the political ammunition necessary to issue the Emancipation Proclamation. This is the full story of Antietam, ranging from the opening shots of the battle to the powerful reverberations—military, political, and social—it sent through the armies and the nation. Based on decades of research, this in-depth narrative sheds particular light on the visceral experience of battle, an often misunderstood aspect of the American Civil War, and the emotional aftermath for those who survived. Hartwig provides an hour-by-hour tactical history of the battle, beginning before dawn on September 17 and concluding with the immediate aftermath, including General McClellan's fateful decision not to pursue Lee's retreating forces back across the Potomac to Virginia. With 21 unique maps illustrating the state of the battle at intervals ranging from 20 to 120 minutes, this long-awaited companion to Hartwig's To Antietam Creek will be essential reading for anyone interested in the Civil War.
David Scott Hartwig is a thirty-four year veteran of the National Park Service and served as Gettysburg’s supervisory historian for twenty years. He won the NPS regional Freeman Tilden Award for Excellence in Interpretation in 1993.
I don’t want to suggest that sitting down in a comfortable chair to read a book about a battle in any way compares to the experiences of those who actually did the fighting. But reading this heavy tome about the Battle of Antietam was a long, hard, but ultimately rewarding effort, complete with moments of intensity interspersed among moments of drudgery, a sense of intimacy interrupted with frequent tragedy, leaving me at the end with a feeling of satisfaction at having come out the other side, with lasting memories of the experience.
So, in a way, there may actually have been some similarities between experiencing the battle vicariously and experiencing it in person, which is a testament to the meticulously thorough work that Hartwig has completed here, in the second of his two-volume history of the Maryland Campaign.
The first volume, To Antietam Creek: The Maryland Campaign of September 1862, covered the campaign leading up to the climactic battle, with what I thought was the ideal blend of big-picture strategy, detailed military tactics and maneuvers, and individual anecdotes about soldiers’ experiences. This book largely dispenses with the first two in order to dive right into the last, taking you directly into the battle in a “you-are-there” style. Hartwig provides a literal minute-by-minute account of the fighting, with chapters and maps covering the action in as little as half-hour increments, maintaining a tight focus on the combatants without treating them like chess pieces controlled from the top.
Several things stood out to me amid the hundreds of pages describing seemingly every minute of the battle. The numerous character sketches interspersed throughout the narrative provided some respite from the fighting and helped to humanize the combatants. Numerous examples illustrated the importance and the impact of good leadership, which often made all the difference between troops willingly advancing and putting themselves in harm's way, or collapsing in panicked retreat. And throughout the book, you get a sense of the sheer brutality of the war - the shockingly sudden and the agonizingly slow deaths, the debilitating and heart-wrenching injuries, and what can only be described as the bloodlust of those under fire - at times, “the savage killing frenzy that came over soldiers,” Hartwig writes, “does not square with a romantic view of the Civil War, with both sides behaving chivalrously.”
When the fighting ends and the Army of Northern Virginia retreats, Hartwig lays out the contrast between what happened at the beginning of the first volume, and the end of the second. “2 weeks earlier,” he writes, Robert E. Lee’s troops “splashed across the Potomac River into Maryland, filled with hope and confidence. Now they were sneaking off in the night, leaving behind their unburied dead and their seriously wounded men.”
But there’s still much more to get to before Hartwig wraps up the story. A good 100+ pages are spent on the aftermath of the battle - everything from the treatment of the wounded who were left behind, to the burial of the dead, the impact of the fighting on the survivors and on civilians, and how news about the battle trickled out to families of the dead and to the rest of the country.
There’s also a short but thoughtful chapter on how the battle cleared the way for Lincoln to issue the preliminary Emancipation Proclamation. Hartwig treats the Proclamation as the war measure that it was, and not as some indication of Lincoln's “evolution” on slavery and race. He also details how Lincoln showed no tolerance for officers who publicly opposed the Proclamation or who proposed to fight to a stalemate rather than for victory.
In the final analysis, Hartwig broadens his view to consider the performance of the opposing generals. General Lee succeeded in bringing fear to the North by invading, he concludes, but it didn't last long. His army suffered terrible casualties at Antietam that it couldn't well afford, and any hopes that Maryland would welcome the Confederate army were quickly disproven. Lee also pushed his army too hard, too fast, as many soldiers were exhausted, demoralized, and ill-supplied.
For George McClellan, it was largely the opposite. His Union army fought well at Antietam but “he regularly expected and demanded less of his men than they were able to deliver,” Hartwig observes, “being satisfied with limited gains” and failing to take full advantage afterwards by destroying the Confederate army while it was down.
The book finally ends with a wonderfully satisfying concluding paragraph, which both reveals the origin of the book's title, and calls back to the preface, in which Hartwig modestly downplays any lofty expectations and avoids the typical hyperbole in a book such as his, by admitting that “Antietam is not forgotten, it was not the turning point of the Civil War, and its story, in general terms, is not untold.” But it is an important story nonetheless, and Hartwig has succeeded brilliantly in his aim “to tell it as honestly as possible.”
The title of the second volume of Scott Hartwig’s monumental account of the 1862 Maryland Campaign comes from a quote from Rufus Dawes, who as a major in the 6th Wisconsin fought at the battle of Antietam. Such was his experience that, when he read a newspaper headline nine months later stating that the Army of Northern Virginia’s invasion of Pennsylvania might result in another such clash it stirred horrifying memories. “I never want to fight there again,” he later wrote, adding, “The flower of our regiment was slaughtered in that terrible corn-field. I dread the thought of the place.”
And from Hartwig’s book, it is easy to see why Dawes would recoil from the mere mention of the battle. Though over a century and a half has passed since Union and Confederate forces fought there, the battle remains the bloodiest single day in American history, with over 3,500 killed and thousands more wounded. The carnage was unlike anything the battle-hardened veterans of the two armies had ever seen, with nightfall leaving survivors to stumble over the bodies that littered the battlefield. Many exhausted soldiers lay down to sleep next to men they believed to be their comrades, only to awaken to find that they had rested next to corpses. It was an experience that ensured that even those who emerged from the battle unwounded were not unscathed by it.
Hartwig recounts all of this in painstaking detail. Over the course of 600 densely packed pages, he describes the events of the battle from the Confederate artillery shots on Union forces that opened the fighting to the charge of the 7th Maine thirteen hours later. Starting with the forces on the right wing of the Army of the Potomac, he moves eastward, carefully recounting the ebb and flow of the fighting between the two sides. Often he has to reconcile contradictory accounts or assess claims that do not measure up to the facts, which he does with an assuredness borne of a through familiarity with his subject. The degree of detail he provides is impressive, and while some of it might blur together for readers Hartwig never loses sight of the proverbial forest for the trees. Attacks and movements are recounted, the fighting is described, and at the end Hartwig explains the factors behind the outcome and their consequences for the overall battle.
What stands out most from his assessments is the sense of an opportunity missed for the Army of the Potomac. Here Harwig places the majority of the blame on its commander, George McClellan, a gifted organizer but a conventional general who was intimidated into caution by an exaggerated sense of the size of the Army of Northern Virginia. Fighting not to lose, he failed to take of opportunities created by his subordinates (such as William French and Israel Richardson in the center) to score a decisive victory over Robert E. Lee’s forces. Instead, by playing it safe, McClellan ensured that the battle was a drawn-out bloodbath between the two sides. Though he offers a more favorable assessment of Lee’s generalship during the battle, Hartwig is not uncritical of the Confederate commander, noting that his failure to establish an effective command structure for the battle inhibited the ability of his subordinates to obtain reinforcements in a timely manner.
Nightfall brought a lull to the battle, which Lee exploited. After taking a day to reorganize his scattered forces, he withdrew the Army of Northern Virginia across the Potomac River. As Hartwig notes, this was not without risk, as a renewed attack by Union forces could have proven disastrous. Yet Lee had the measure of McClellan, and anticipated correctly that the Union general would act cautiously. Upon learning of Lee’s withdrawal McClellan followed, less in pursuit than to “sweep any residue of the Confederate army across the Potomac,” in the belief that he had achieved his campaign goals. Not all of McClellan’s subordinates were happy with such an unaggressive stance, however, as Fitz John Porter’s V Corps clashed with Lee’s rear guard at Shepherdstown, resulting in a humiliating reverse for Union forces.
Though McClellan won only a modest operational victory over Lee’s forces, it was Abraham Lincoln who turned it into a strategic one by issuing the preliminary version of his Emancipation Proclamation five days after the battle. By expanding the goal of the war from preserving the union to the destruction of slavery, the president slammed shut any hope of European recognition of the Confederacy while simultaneously striking a blow at the Confederates’ economy. It was this which made Antietam into arguably the most significant battle of the war, one which receives its due in Hartwig’s magnificent book. Detailed yet readable, it is by far the best account of the battle, and along with his preceding volume, To Antietam Creek, it is likely to stand for years to come as the definitive account of the 1862 Maryland campaign. No student of the Civil War can afford to neglect Hartwig’s mammoth work, which rewards the time spent reading it with an epic and humane study of one of the most important events in American history.
Definitive, authoritative…and almost overwhelming. I waited years for this to be published and read it straight through when I received it, but it might have been better to alternate one section with another book before continuing. Every action, every assault, every movement, primarily from first person accounts, this is a very detailed and soldier-eye-view depiction of the battle. Command level and strategic decisions are covered, but ultimately, this is the story of the men who did the fighting. The terrain descriptions give deeper insight into the battle, for example I was not aware that the Sunken Road was at the mercy of Union troops on higher ground once the attacks had been broken up. Another excellent and almost unique approach is providing the real numbers of men coming into action. This gives an idea not only of the scale of combat, but a reminder of just how attenuated the units were by straggling and previous combat at South Mountain, etc. Well worth the wait, an epic tale and a stupendous achievement by Hartwig.
The guns fall silent, the moans waft over the cornfields and country lanes, and the dueling armies and the entire country eventually come to grips with the awful devastation of the Battle of Antietam. Antietam often falls through the cracks of popular history, felled between the opening of the Civil War and the better-known battle north in Gettysburg. Antietam, though, stands forever as a monument to both horrific bloodshed (it is America's single bloodiest day in history) and the reconstituting of the American Republic as the guarantor of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness for black and white citizens alike.
Hartwig masterfully reconstructs the Antietam Battle and the conclusion of the Maryland Campaign. The scenes of Hooker's strike through the East Woods, Cornfield, and West Woods, the struggle over the Sunken Lane, the stalemate in the center of the lines, and the fight for Burnside's Bridge are told in resplendent detail. The maneuvers of Lee and McClellan are recounted, but also the trials of ordinary soldiers and civilians: one thinks of the local farmer emerging from his basement in the midst of battle to encourage advancing Union troops to whip the retreating rebels.
McClellan emerges as the defensive wizard of the narrative, but sacrificing at several points the opportunity for a truly decisive blow. McClellan fielded his troops conservatively, always planning and moving regiments to prevent against the worst-case scenario, rather than strive for the best. Lee and Confederate commanders emerge as bold risk-takers, imbuing the Army of Norther Virginia with an elan and offensive spirit sorely lacking from its northern enemy.
Antietam, as Hartwig points out, is not the turning point in the Civil War. No single battle is. But Antietam, stands as a turning point in American history, as the battle that unleashed the Emancipation Proclamation and changed the trajectory of the war. Antietam every well could have ended in only bloodhshed and horror; instead, it brought forth a new phase of the war and a new opportunity for millions untold and unborn beyond the battlefield in western Maryland.
"Civil War historian Scott Hartwig has been researching the Battle of Antietam for decades. Now he has written a definitive hour-by-hour tactical history of the battle, I Dread the Thought of the Place: The Battle of Antietam and the End of the Maryland Campaign. The memory of the Battle of Antietam was so haunting that when, nine months later, Major Rufus Dawes learned another Antietam battle might be on the horizon, he wrote, "I hope not, I dread the thought of the place." History Happy Hour podcast 091524
"Death from a bullet is ghastly, but to see a man's brains dashed out at your side by a grape shot and another's body severed by a screeching cannon ball is truly appalling. May I never see such horrors as I saw that day."
Yes, there's heavy stuff in I Dread the Thought of the Place, D. Scott Hartwig's book about the Battle of Antietam that completes his two-volume chronicle of the Civil War's Maryland Campaign. Heavy figuratively and literally. This tall, dense, hulking thing (781 pages of main text, 960 overall) is the largest volume I own that isn't a "coffee table" book. On my bookshelf, it's the ponderous Little League freak nobody can believe isn't overage. It's heavy as a tombstone — fitting for a chronicle of a day of astonishing bloodshed and death. It's also worth the arm workout.
Hartwig does amazing work here on the whole. What deep and incredible scholarship. Still, the flaws contained in the nearly-as-large lead-up volume, To Antietam Creek, are present again, though not as prominent or damaging to the experience. Getting this annoying business out of the way first, I don't think there are quite as many typographical errors as in the previous volume, though it's probably close. But, yes, it's still very bad, especially for an otherwise classy volume printed by a prestigious university's (Johns Hopkins) press. The maps are a little more attractive here, slightly better and more helpful than before, but again, not as useful (or numerous) as they could be; some prominent features are not labeled. Hartwig keeps clearer the logistical details about the push and pull of these armies, but again, in presenting various sections of the battlefield — the Cornfield, the Sunken Lane, Rohrback (later Burnside's) Bridge — sequentially, the overall picture of the battle sometimes gets lost. While it's a given that only the super-interested will read a Civil War book of this detail, Hartwig sometimes assumes too much, letting readers sink or swim when a quick update or summary of what else was happening on another part of the field at the same time or a quick note about how parts of the battlefield geographically relate to each other would do wonders.
What Hartwig did well in To Antietam Creek he nearly always does better in I Dread the Thought of the Place. The everyday soldier's experience is presented in vivid detail and staggering volume. Part of it is a product of just how big this project is, but I've never read so many searing quotes from those who lived through the excitement and horror of battle.
Hartwig's writing seems to find a better groove in this volume, and he's far more stark and free in presenting his opinions: He doesn't hesitate, for instance, to call a Union General George McClellan post-battle report "hogwash."
He's also more expansive in providing personal background about even the most minor participants. Where did he find all this stuff?
I was struck again and again by Hartwig's stressing of the importance of artillery in Civil War battles. It's never been brought home to me so forcefully what it's like to face screaming projectiles (while being hungry, exhausted, and frightened) in battle. So much of what happened (or didn't) was determined by which army could best sweep wide swaths of land with artillery, who found the ideal gun placement to do the most damage.
Hartwig does a great job of presenting the full experience from a soldier's-eye view. The long marches, the hunger, the confusion. The suffering of the injured. After the firing is pretty much over for the Battle of Antietam, Hartwig spends several pages on the nighttime aftermath: badly injured, prone men begging for water or for death. He also broadens his scope on the toll of war with a chapter on the civilian locals of the Sharpsburg area and what America's bloodiest battle left in its wake for them — one farmer who returned after the battle had 700 bodies buried on his property. That said, Hartwig does drag out the ending. When the battle is over, there are still 180 pages to read. That Hartwig is still tackling topics much in need of attention to the end — the mental scars the battle left on participants, how the Union's minor tactical victory set the stage for the Emancipation Proclamation — doesn't negate the fact that it's just a bit too much.
Overall, I Dread the Thought of the Place is an amazing achievement. Its length and density inherently make it a challenging read, forcing the occasional slog through the mud-suck of details of battle group alignment, for instance. It's a hard march but well worth it.
This review covers both To Antietam Creek and I Dread the Thought of the Place as they are two parts of a whole. D. Scott Hartwig has written the new standard account of the 1862 Maryland Campaign. The research I’d phenomenal as is the writing. Hartwig not only discusses the major political and military aspects of the campaign, but dives deeply into the writings of regular soldiers and field officers. The result is a story of gritty Civil War combat. These volumes take readers deep into all the facets of the history of our country’s great tragedy. While they are hefty tomes, the reader is rewarded with a deep understanding of the campaign and the experiences of those involved. Photographs are sparse and maps are limited as dictated by the publisher. With the volumes appearing about a decade apart, the maps in the second book are superior to those in the first book as a different cartographer was used. I really cannot recommend these two books highly enough.
A long and detailed “face of battle” history from the perspective of the soldiers in the ranks. Essential reading for any student of the battle in that it centers the material conditions on the ground over the decisions of the commanders.
He did an excellent job of writing about combat and wading through soldiers’ reminiscence without engaging in too much glorification. You feel more repulsed by his presentation than inspired, and thus show it ought to be.
The ultimate account of the bloodiest day in American history. This is not just a book about troop movements. It is about people both military and civilians who experienced the horror of this battle. This is an account that puts it on a personal level. Outstanding piece of work!!!
Amazing book!! Such great detail almost felt like you were in the action. Easy read and don’t have to be a military expert to follow along. The amount of work that went into this book had to be extraordinary. Yes, obviously going to be a long read but is well worth it.
"Definitive" is often overused when describing a work of history, but in this case the word applies absolutely. A monumental, highly readable masterpiece.