But McClellan delayed again, and it was sunset when Dick saw the first
sign of action. A strong division with cannon crossed the river and
attacked the batteries which were covering the Southern rearguard.
Four guns and prisoners were taken, but when Lee heard of it he sent back
Jackson, who beat off all pursuit.
Dick and his comrades did not see this last fight, which was the dying
echo of Antietam. They felt that they had defeated the enemy's purpose,
but they did not rejoice over any victory. The sword of Antietam had
turned back Lee and Jackson for a time and perhaps had saved the Union,
but Dick was gloomy and depressed that so little had been won when they
seemed to hold so much in the hollow of their hands.
This feeling spread through the whole army, and the privates, even,
talked of it openly. Nobody could forget those precious two days lost
before the battle. Orders No. 191 had put all the cards in their hands,
but the commander had not played them.
"I feel that we've really failed," said Warner, as they sat beside a camp
fire. "The Southerners certainly fought like demons, but we ought to
have been there long before Jackson came, and we ought to have whipped
them, even after Jackson did come.
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