September 16-18, 2022
7801 Solomons Valley Lane
Boonsboro, Md.
September 18th, 1862
In camp near Sharpsburg, Maryland

Dear Friends,

It has been a very long time since I last wrote with details of a military nature. This story I feel is worth telling. Since there are so many that have not lived to tell it, I am compelled to tell it for their legacy.

The journey of the Fourth Rhode Island Volunteers began with a march from Washington City. We marched with Reno's IX Corps, Rodman's Third Division, and Harland's Second Brigade, along with the 8th 11th, and the green 16th Connecticut. We wound our way through the Maryland countryside, and arrived in time to chase the Rebels out of Frederick. We had left our knapsacks in Washington, so we are marching in light order. Passing through Frederick, we started out the National Road to the northwest towards Middletown about dawn.

Word came to us that the enemy was engaged at the crest of South Mountain ahead. Our IX Corps was split off the National Road to the left, and ascended the mountain for about 2 or 3 miles. The engagement there at Fox's Gap in front of us rather hot. We were the third division in line, and were held in reserve. News came to us of General Reno being killed on the field. The fighting slowly ceased with the setting of the sun.

The next morning, we marched again, up and over South Mountain, saw the carnage of the fight yesterday. Such a sight cannot be described, but made a lasting mark on our souls. We continued our march down the mountain, across the valley, and on towards the west.

We got to a wagon park in the middle afternoon. There we rested some time, were formed up, drew two days rations of the nicest fresh beef and hard crackers. Most of the boys in Company C thought we were going into camp, but, rather shortly, the orders to resume the march were heard again. We marched through sunset, and into the evening. We were halted on an old farm lane for a needed rest. We stacked our arms, and fell out, most getting off their feet, sitting in the grass on either side of the lane. No sooner were we comfortable on the ground, when the alarm was sounded, shouts of orders to fall in, take arms, and move out. We all thought that the enemy had been sighted. The enemy in this case was about three or four fellows who had sat themselves in the dark on nests of yellow jackets and woke them all up. These boys got stung up pretty bad, and so we were up and out of the vicinity in a flash.

We marched down this lane, in the woods, in the dark. There was a lot of grumbling, a lot of stumbling in the ranks, and a lot of mumbling and bumbling from the officers. After at least two or three miles, we passed through a small village of three or four houses, went down a hill, into a glade of grass and trees, and were halted. The rear rank was faced about, and we were ordered to roll out our beds, and bivouac here in line under arms for the night. It turns out we were on the banks of a good-sized creek, running pretty high after the rains of the last couple days. We were told to keep quiet, and to get some sleep before our Company C had dour turn on picket duty. So, I tried to sleep, and generally think I did, but awoke regularly with tickles across the face. I thought it was the threads of my blanket edge, and was content to just roll over and cover up again. In the morning, I could see lots of spiders in the grass, but was thankful it did not occur to me they were involved during the night.

Our turn out on picket was from 4 to 6 in the morning, so once we were got up by First Sergeant Pyro, we were decidedly up for the day. I stood post number one. It was closest to the camp, and along a wood road running along the bank of the creek. If it was not night, and I was not tired, it would have been a fine spot. But as it was, I started challenging the shadows, and not seeing the real things. We were finally relieved, returned to camp, got some coffee and breakfast, and rolled up our traps. In the midst of that, a real alarm was sounded, and we fell in and went off in pursuit of an unknown number of rebel wood ticks that were harassing us in camp. We overwhelmed them with force, and chased them away. Our company arrived in a meadow, and went into skirmish line, shooting across the creek. I could see I knocked one Johnny down, and flipped the hat off another. Back to camp, we retrieved our traps and set off on a march up and down the hills in the area, not knowing where we were, or where we were going. We were moving away from the sounds of the enemy artillery, so all was well.

After a time, we could hear and then see small arms fire. We approached a ford across the creek, but the Rebels were contesting the crossing. Our arms were employed in answering their threat as the rest of us plunged right in, and crossed the creek, climbing up the other side, and back into the line of battle. We were rested in a glade on the other side of the creek, changed our socks, and caught our breath. Except Hal, who gasped his breath out, when he saw a big black snake winding through the grass at his feet. His eyes big as saucers, his heart racing, he took some time to regain his composure. From there we fought off the Rebels, who retired, I think out of ammunition, and we marched to the right under the cover of the hills in our front. We halted at the bottom of a ridge, and rested there some time. We were given apples and tomatoes in that place.

About 3 o'clock, we were called into line, and moved up the ridge to the top, to see across the landscape in front of us. To our left, there was a snake fence marking a farm lane, and a large field of corn beyond. We marched in line of battle towards that corn. To our right, the Sixteenth Connecticut advanced in front of us, and into the corn. They were met with the enemy in the corn, and confusion ensued for them. They were green, and could barely return the fire, never mind maneuver at all. The 13th South Carolina beat them badly. They came tumbling out of that corn shortly, and some ran through the right of our Fourth. We attacked in echelon. We advanced, kicked down the snake fence, and went into the corn. We could see troops in the corn, and sent our colors and officers forward. They were answered by shooting the color bearer down, leaving the officers screaming back to the regiment. We opened on them, standing fast. We were fighting at close range, the 12th South Carolina, Gregg's Brigade.

Fighting in the corn was near impossible. It was hard to keep your footing, with stalks to trip over, wrapping around your ankles, every time we moved forward, back, left, or right, it was difficult to keep our lines and spacings, yet we poured a desperate fire into the enemy. We were holding until even more trouble, the 1st South Carolina, came in on our left flank. At that point, our lieutenant-colonel, the colonel having been wounded, ordered us to retire, and follow our colors to the rear. These orders were slowly heeded by the remaining soldiers remaining, leaving many of Rhode Island sons dead and wounded in that corn.

We reformed back on the reverse side of the ridge we attacked from, and caught our breath and nursed our wounds for some time. Word came about sunset that the fighting was over for the day. Many slept on their arms, as the rest of the survivors trickled back to the regiment over the next several hours.

I was slightly wounded, and so was removed to the hospital at the Otto barn. The remainder of our company slept in those woods by the creek that night. Hollis and Gordon reported finding company under their bed rolls in the form of these giant centipedes, big, brown, and three to four inches long. That is no harmless bug, and gives a start when discovered too close by. In the morning, the regiment arose, got coffee, held a formation to count the effectives, and marched once again, for where, no one knows. I will endeavor to catch up to the regiment soon, once I have these several ticks removed. At least no one has reported any cases of chiggers.

Thus ends the trials of the Fourth Rhode Island Volunteers and the battle of Antietam. It was a perfect homespun Waterloo as far as I was concerned. I will pen some words to you next time there is news worth writing about. Pray for us, and for our fallen, and for their families.

Your humble servant,
Oliver Moon, Coventry, R.I.
Company C,
Fourth Rhode Island Volunteers