Working as a park ranger at Antietam National Battlefield is
a tremendous honor. As my fellow rangers and I say, for us, it’s the best job
in the world. Every day, my colleagues and I have the opportunity to come to
the most pristine and best preserved Civil War battlefield in the country. Our
task is to help visitors from all across the country—and indeed, from across
the world—understand and connect with the terrible events that took place here
on September 17, 1862. For some, a trip to Antietam means studying military
tactics, generals, and leadership. Others come here for recreational purposes,
such as hiking, biking, or running. Others still come here to learn about the
farmers and civilians whose worlds were turned upside down in September 1862
when Union and Confederate armies converged on this soil.
No matter the reason why visitors come here, for many, the
visit ends up becoming something of a pilgrimage to the past, an avenue for
exploring American history and learning about those who came before us. It is
for this purpose that national parks exist. They allow Americans to connect
with their country and its history, themselves becoming a part of it in the
process.
Today, I would like to tell you about my connection with
Antietam, and why this place matters so much to me.
Sunrise at Antietam
The morning of September 17, 1862 dawned with a mist in the
air left over from the rain that had fallen the night before. For Private
Elwood Rodebaugh of Company D, 106th Pennsylvania Volunteer Infantry, it would
be the last dawn he would ever know. Elwood was but one of thousands of men who
shared that distinction that fateful morning. Soon, the mist that filled the
air would be replaced with the smells and sounds of battle and death. Elwood
Rodebaugh, along with thousands of other men from both the North and the South,
would soon become a casualty of America's bloodiest day.
The path that brought Elwood Rodebaugh to the banks of Antietam
Creek was a common one among Civil War soldiers. When the war began in 1861, he
was an ordinary shoemaker living in Canton, Pennsylvania. He was thirty-one
years old, and had a wife and two children. Josephine, his wife, was twenty-six,
his son Charles was two, and his daughter Heloise was four. The family’s
possessions included a milk cow, a small house, and about fifty dollars. They
were common people, representing the vast majority of those who fought during
the Civil War. Elwood had nothing to do with why the Southern states decided to
secede in 1860 and 1861, and he certainly was not the one who fired the first
shot of the war at Fort Sumter. Yet, when the United States broke apart and
Americans began waging war against one another, Elwood faithfully enlisted to
defend his country as did so many others. On August 26, 1861, Elwood was
officially mustered in to the Federal ranks, becoming a member of what would
become Company D, 106th Pennsylvania Volunteer Infantry.
Throughout his time in the service prior to Antietam, Elwood
saw significant campaign time with the 106th Pennsylvania, which was
originally designated the 5th California Regiment, as the state of
California provided the funds to sponsor several regiments from Pennsylvania
early on in the war. The regiment’s brigade was known as the Philadelphia
Brigade because each of the regiments in it was raised almost entirely from the
city of Philadelphia and its surroundings. Company D of the 106th was one of the only companies in the entire brigade not from Philadelphia.
Originally led by Edward Baker and a part of Charles Stone’s division, the
brigade was engaged at Ball’s Bluff in October 1861, though they saw much
heavier action during the Peninsula Campaign in the summer of 1862. During the
Seven Days Battles, Elwood was wounded in his right forearm, though it was not
serious enough to keep him out of the ranks. When the Army of the Potomac left
the defenses of Washington and embarked upon the Maryland Campaign in September
1862, Elwood was marching along with them to a fate unknown.
Elwood Rodebaugh was one of the thousands of men who
comprised the 2nd Corps of the Union Army of the Potomac, commanded
by Major General Edwin Vose Sumner. During the Maryland Campaign, Sumner’s 2nd Corps was one of the only veteran parts of the Army of the Potomac under George
McClellan. The night before the battle saw Sumner’s men encamped on the fields
of the Pry Farm, just east of Antietam Creek.
On the morning of the 17th, the men were woken
early. Their impetuous commander had roused them at 3 AM in preparation for
crossing Antietam Creek to support the right wing of the Union army in its
attacks on the Confederate Army of Northern Virginia. George McClellan's battle
plan called for Union assaults against Lee's left flank, to be followed up by a
crushing blow against Lee's right. Joe Hooker's 1st Corps and Joseph
Mansfield's 12th Corps were already across the creek that morning, preparing
for battle, while the 2nd Corps lay in wait on the other side.
That morning, as with many mornings in his life, Edwin
Sumner was an impatient man. He had preferred that his men cross the Antietam
the night before, but was still awaiting his orders to cross on the morning of
the 17th. As the fighting began in earnest at dawn, Sumner's men sat
in their camps on the other side of the Antietam, listening to the booming of
the guns with a growing anxiety and apprehension of what was to come. It was
not until 7:20—almost an hour and a half after the fighting had begun—that
Sumner received his orders from George McClellan to begin advancing his corps
across Antietam Creek. The first part to move was John Sedgwick's division, followed
by William French's command, and followed later by Israel Richardson’s
division. Soon after receiving his marching orders, Sedgwick began crossing his
men near the Pry Mill, just south of the Upper Bridge over Antietam Creek.
Between the hours of 8 and 9 AM, Sedgwick's men, with Edwin
Sumner riding along, traversed the fields and hills between Antietam Creek and
the East Woods. Arriving in the East Woods near 9 AM, Edwin Sumner began to
survey the situation. William French's men were still moving toward the
battlefield after crossing the creek. They were operating under orders telling
them to move to support Sedgwick's left upon arriving on the field. As for the
moment, Sumner only had Sedgwick's division to work with. Numbering over 5,000 strong,
this force would suffice. Sumner recognized that Union forces commanded by
George Sears Greene of the 12th Corps had given him an opportunity. Greene's
Division occupied a plot of ground now covered with the park visitor center.
Seeing these troops, Sumner decided to push due west into the large woodlot to
the north and west of the Dunker Church, an area known as the West Woods.
As Sumner moved Sedgwick's men westward he positioned them
into three lines of battle. First in line was Willis Gorman's brigade, followed
by Napoleon Jackson Tecumseh Dana's brigade (a military name if there ever was
one), and the last line was the Philadelphia Brigade, commanded by Oliver O.
Howard. Howard's brigade was arranged with the 69th Pennsylvania on the far
left, the 72nd Pennsylvania on the center left, the 106th Pennsylvania on the
center right, and the 71st Pennsylvania on the far right of the regiment. As
these men advanced across the Hagerstown Turnpike and into the West Woods, the
106th Pennsylvania, commanded by Colonel Turner G. Morehead, found themselves
along a tree line at the far edge of an open clover field, by this time covered
with bodies of both Confederate and Union soldiers from fighting earlier that
morning.
The tree line along which the 106th Pennsylvania was situated in the West Woods
Once Gorman’s brigade moved deep into the woods, Confederate
artillery opened on their position from Hauser Ridge, stopping the Federal
advance. For the men of Dana's and Howard's brigades, there was not much to do
but to wait for Gorman's men to push through this fire, allowing the division
to turn southward and roll up Lee's flank. Many of the men in these brigades lay
down to avoid the shot and shell, as well as to take a quick respite before
their fight began in earnest. As these men lay in the woods, events beyond
their control were in motion to bring about their demise.
At this point in the battle, Robert E. Lee was fast becoming
aware of the need for even more troops on his left flank. All morning he had
been sending any reinforcements he could find to stop the 1st and 12th Corps of
the Union army. Now, 2nd Corps troops were poised to drive the Confederates
from the field and they needed to be stopped. To accomplish this desperate
task, Lee turned to a force which was an amalgamation of several divisions, led
primarily by Lafayette McLaws's division, having recently arrived from Harper's
Ferry. McLaws's men were sent north from Sharpsburg and directly into the left
flank of Sedgwick's unsuspecting troops.
For the men of the 106th Pennsylvania, and for Elwood
Rodebaugh, the attack came fast and seemingly out of nowhere. Firing began on
their left flank when Confederate troops encountered the 125th Pennsylvania and
the 34th New York, the far left flank of the Union foothold in the West Woods.
The sounds of the advance were what several soldiers described as a "fiery
avalanche" descending upon their flank. As the fire intensified, General
Sumner, sensing danger, rode back into the lines of his men to save them from
their impending doom. Sumner rode directly into the ranks of the 106th
Pennsylvania, proclaiming, “Back boys, for God’s sake move back, you are in a
bad fix!”. Volleys of musket and
artillery fire soon tore into the Pennsylvanians, clarifying the emerging Rebel
threat. The men of the 106th, along with the rest of Sedgwick’s division, began
to break for the rear in droves. The chaos was all encompassing. Men were
firing into their own ranks from all directions.
The men of the 106th Pennsylvania and Sedgwick's division retreated across these fields. Some of the soldiers in the 106th made a defensive stand along the fence line pictured above.
As disaster enveloped the men of the 106th Pennsylvania,
slowly but surely, bravery and courage began to shine through the confusion.
Color Sergeant Benjamin Sloanaker planted the regimental colors along a fence
line perpendicular to the Hagerstown Turnpike (this fence line now runs along
Starke Avenue). Men began to rally around the colors in an attempt to stem the
tide of the Confederate advance. Among those who formed this line was Charles
E. Hickman of Company A, the company Sergeant. With great bravery and coolness
under fire, Hickman moved his company out of the West Woods and into the fields
to the east of the Hagerstown Turnpike. There, the Pennsylvanians were joined
with several companies of Massachusetts soldiers, possibly from the 15th
Massachusetts, who were making their own retreat from the woods. In the process
of making this stand, Sergeant Hickman paid the ultimate price and lost his
life. He was killed instantly by a rebel bullet to the head.
It was also at this time that Elwood Rodebaugh, a humble
shoemaker from Canton, Pennsylvania, lost his life in the service of his
country. Captain William Jones of Company D would later write that Elwood “was
last seen, when we commenced falling back, fighting bravely….” Two men from
Elwood’s company, Samuel Riggs and Daniel Fitzwater, later testified that they
had last seen Elwood along the same fence line where portions of the regiment
attempted to make a defensive stand. He was killed, as Captain Jones wrote,
“with unflinching bravery to wit….” Jones, Riggs, and Fitzwater all later noted
that Elwood’s body was not identified in the aftermath of Antietam due to his
having shaved off his beard just a few days before the battle, making him
unrecognizable to burial parties.
Sedgwick’s repulse in the West Woods came at one of the most
intense and bloodiest moments of the Battle of Antietam. The fight was still
but a few hours old, and already, twice as many Americans had fallen as
casualties than fell on D-Day in 1944. The carnage was far from done. Combat
raged between the two armies for the rest of the day until darkness mercifully
drew the curtain on the bloodiest day in American history.
Antietam's Philadelphia Brigade Monument at dusk
While the specific results of Antietam are still hotly
debated, it is clear that the battle had an unmistakable impact on American
history. Two days later, Lee’s Confederate army was back in Virginia, and three
days after that, President Abraham Lincoln issued his Preliminary Emancipation
Proclamation, declaring that from that point onward, the war would be fought to
preserve a better Union, one without slavery.
After Antietam, the war continued on, as did the men of the
106th Pennsylvania. In its brief but fierce action in the West
Woods, the regiment lost 77 out of 492 present. Howard’s brigade lost 545 men
in the short time span they were engaged that morning. Two months later, the 106th fought bravely at Fredericksburg in December 1862, and a few months after that,
they held the Union line at Gettysburg in the biggest and bloodiest battle ever
fought on the North American continent. When the 106th Pennsylvania
finally mustered out of the service, 197 of their men had died from battle
wounds and disease during the war. Elwood Rodebaugh was just one of them.
In all likelihood, Elwood was buried on the field where he
fell and was removed to Antietam National Cemetery several years later. Because
he was buried without identification, to this day he is among the 1,836 unknown
soldiers who rest in Antietam National Cemetery. Of the 4,776 Union soldiers
interred there, roughly 40% are in unknown graves.
Josephine, Charles, and Heloise were never able to visit
Elwood’s grave nor have the final closure of a fitting funeral for their
beloved father and husband. But they continued on regardless. Josephine applied
for a widow’s pension through the Federal government in 1863, and her request
was granted. She remarried in the 1870s and lost her second husband to illness
in the 1880s, becoming a widow once again. She ended up living into the early
years of the twentieth century, passing away in 1903. Up until her death,
Josephine was illiterate. All of her pension documents were marked only with an
“x” for her signature.
What does all of this have to do with me, a park ranger at
Antietam National Battlefield? When I was a boy, I remember going on long car
rides to visit my grandparents in Canton, Pennsylvania, the same town where
Elwood Rodebaugh lived many years before. I remember sitting in the back of my
Grandma’s kitchen in a rocking chair with my grandfather, and he would tell me
about history, mostly that of the Civil War. Grandpa frequently spoke of the
men from Canton who had served in the war. Among them was his own great-grandfather,
and my great-great-great grandfather, Private Elwood Rodebaugh. I remember
going on sunny afternoon drives with my dad and my grandfather up to a lake
near where Elwood lived. While we went fishing, my grandpa would tell me about
Elwood and his service in the war. He took me to a local cemetery where
Charles—Elwood’s son—was buried, and we talked there about our family and its
history. Our conversations always seemed to come back to Antietam. Before he
passed away, my grandfather gave my father an old regimental history of the 106th Pennsylvania, something which was in turn given to me. In the back of the book,
published in 1883, is the roster of those who served. A small red x rests next
to Elwood’s name. The description for Private Rodebaugh is simple: “Killed in
Action at Sharpsburg, September 17, 1862.”
On September 17, 2012, I had the opportunity to read Elwood's name during the ceremony in the Antietam National Cemetery reading the names of those who died in the battle 150 years before.
Our memories of the past comprise who we are every day of
our lives. The same is true for our country. History is not a stale, dusty old
subject in a book. It is a living and breathing thing. Our connections with
America’s past help to forge our bonds with our country today. Those
connections teach us how dearly we should appreciate all that we have. In his
official report describing the action of the Philadelphia Brigade at Antietam,
Brigadier General Oliver O. Howard spoke to this, writing, “[My men] have
poured out their blood like water, and we must look to God and our country for
a just reward.” Today, preserving Antietam National Battlefield is but a small
part of the reward we try to continually repay on a daily basis to honor those
who fought and died here.
The Battle of Antietam was the bloodiest single day in
American history. Over 23,000 men were killed wounded or missing in a twelve
hour time span. It is easy to let that statistic simply be a number or a piece
of trivia, but every time we remind ourselves of the humanity of those who
fought here, the battle takes an entirely new level of importance.
Working at Antietam every day has been a tremendous blessing
and an honor. Knowing that my own ancestor fought and died here for his country
gives it more meaning that I can say. Not knowing exactly where his grave is
located makes the entire battlefield more special because it is preserved as a
final resting place for Elwood and the thousands of those who also died here on
September 17, 1862.
No battle in history has ever been fought by lines on a map.
No battle has ever occurred in the pages of a history book. Battles are fought
by individuals, ordinary people who do extraordinary things and forever shape
the flow of history. Remembering that each casualty of Antietam was an
individual such as Elwood Rodebaugh—a soldier with a family at home, someone
with hopes and aspirations just like us—makes the human cost of the battle more
readily apparent. The fact that Josephine Rodebaugh lost her husband at
Antietam is as much a consequence of the battle as was the Emancipation
Proclamation. Without the sacrifice and heartbreak of one the promise of
freedom afforded by the other would not have been possible.
Because soldiers such as Elwood Rodebaugh did their duty
with bravery under such harrowing circumstances, we have been entrusted with an
incredible legacy. Antietam stands as not only one of the most consequential
days in American history, but also one of the most important days for
remembering that freedom is never free. Antietam reminds us that as long as
freedom needs defending, Americans will rise to the challenge. The price for
freedom has been paid on many fields by many soldiers. One of those soldiers
just happened to be an ordinary shoemaker from Canton, Pennsylvania named
Elwood Rodebaugh, my great-great-great grandfather. Private Rodebaugh’s
sacrifice at Antietam was not only for the freedom of Charles and Heloise, but
for the country their descendants, their families, and millions of others who
call America home still enjoy to this day.
And that is one very important reason why Antietam National
Battlefield is a very special place for me, and a very special place for our
country. It has been an honor of a lifetime to work here, and I hope you will
visit to form your own connections with our country and its rich and incredible
history.
Dan Vermilya
Park Ranger
Park Ranger