[From Frederick to Sharpsburg: People, Places, and Events of the Maryland Campaign Before Antietam by Steven R. Stotelmyer (Antietam Institute, 2023). Hardcover, maps, photos, illustrations, footnotes, appendix section, bibliography index. 521 Pp. ISBN:979-8-218-34180-0. $39.95]
Steven Stotelmyer is one of those individuals who is using retirement not as a leisure-filled coda to a long working life but rather a means toward finally being able to dive feet first into a lifelong avocational passion. In addition to becoming a certified Antietam and South Mountain Battlefield Tour Guide, Stotelmyer has also entered the realm of book authorship, the most recent being Too Useful to Sacrifice: Reconsidering George B. McClellan's Generalship in the Maryland Campaign from South Mountain to Antietam (2019) [site review]. Tackling a variety of related topics with intensive research and fresh eyes, Stotelmyer has established himself as a strong new voice in interpreting the campaign's storied history. That earlier book introduced some interesting angles through which numerous established views and interpretations regarding George McClellan's conduct during the 1862 Maryland Campaign were questioned and reappraised. In similar vein, though not centered on McClellan this time, is Stotelmyer's third book, also an essay compilation, titled From Frederick to Sharpsburg: People, Places, and Events of the Maryland Campaign Before Antietam. It was released last year through the Antietam Institute's publishing arm (link).
It has often been repeated that Confederate hopes for sparking a popular uprising in Maryland received the wet blanket treatment in the western part of the state, including the town of Frederick where pro-Confederate sympathies were heavily muted even in the presence of Robert E. Lee's advancing army. Citing an abundance of first-hand accounts and period observations that challenge that common assessment, Stotelmyer's opening essay finds more than enough evidence to suggest that the overall reaction of the citizens of Frederick might better be described as "mixed." The author also offers several convincing reasons underpinning supporter skepticism against coming forward (even from the most pro-Confederate segments of the local population), perhaps the most common one being practical self-preservation given that there were no indications that a permanent military presence was either possible or ever countenanced. The Confederates had the same insurmountable problem that summer and fall in Kentucky. Interesting ancillary factors are also raised, one being the negative optics (and olfactory sense) presented by the ragged, sun-baked, dirty, and half-starved appearance of Lee's army. A good point not often mentioned surrounds the lack of foresight in prominently bringing forward and employing Confederate Marylanders (thousands of whom were distributed throughout the Army of the Northern Virginia) as both campaign ambassadors and local recruiters. The be fair, though, there was very little time between Second Manassas and entry into Maryland for organizing such an effort.
No one seriously believes the Barbara Fritchie legend today, at least the version revealed in the popular John Greenleaf Whittier poem. Backed by a wide-ranging review of eyewitness accounts and other relevant contemporary sources, Stotelmyer shows how convincingly the whole story can be soundly debunked. Like he does in all of his essays, Stotelmyer also sends his investigation down a number of interesting side alleys. For instance, he revives the case of Mary Quantrell, a Frederick citizen who apparently did defiantly wave the U.S. flag at passing Confederate troops. Like the Fritchie myth, there are many versions of the Quantrell story that have been passed down since the end of the war, and Stotelmyer looks at those with a critical eye, too. The essay also reminds us not to look past the real facts of Fritchie's long life, and it is worthy of remembering that even if the legends were not true in fact they did fit her real personality. In the end, even Whittier himself was forced to admit later in life that details of his famous poem could not withstand scrutiny, his mistaken knowledge of the facts most likely a consequence of good faith "blending" of incidents.
Jeb Stuart continues to receive a great deal of criticism for his conduct during the early stages of the Maryland Campaign. Stotelmyer and recent Stuart biographer Edward Longacre both agree in persuasive fashion that Stuart did fine work in screening Lee's army but proved less responsible when it came to providing Lee with timely information about the location and movements of the leading elements of McClellan's Army of the Potomac. That's a common enough view. The substance of their arguments are similar, though Stotelmyer is more broadly scathing in his accusations and general beliefs regarding Stuart's partying ways and how much his pursuit of personal amusements were responsible for the dereliction in duty. On the other hand, Stotelmyer also does credit to some degree Union cavalry performance improvements for helping mask McClellan's movements from enemy eyes. Most overlooked, in Stotelmyer's estimation, was the Confederate failure to properly employ Sugar Loaf Mountain as a far-seeing observation platform. In the writer's view, both Stuart and Lee were chiefly culpable, with the latter not having a single staff officer at army headquarters tasked with intelligence gathering and getting that information to the decision-makers in the high command. There was one in the making, but he was in Richmond and not in Maryland with the army. In general, Stotelmyer presents a picture of an entire Confederate army possessing a "false sense of security," convincing themselves (without any evidence beyond mere supposition) that they had plenty of time before the federal army could regain its footing and react seriously to their Maryland incursion. If an egregious intelligence blunder did occur as Stotelmyer alleges, he was nevertheless unable to uncover any documentary evidence in regard to precisely where the information breakdown occurred between point of observation (as made from the captured signal station atop the mountain) and Lee's headquarters desk. In lieu of that, after insisting upon the impossibility of missing the vast clouds of dust that must have been kicked up by McClellan's advance, the reader is left with a strong list of reasonable possibilities deduced by the author.
The fourth essay revisits the interminable debates surrounding numerous aspects of Lee's Special Orders No. 191. As is generally the case in his work, Stotelmyer is more than willing to fill blank spaces in the documentary evidence with bold (but not overbearing) assertions and possible scenarios that might differ with more common interpretations of events and intentions. Avenues of informed conjecture outlined in the chapter include the author's discussion of the degree to which Orders No. 191 might have been adjusted to mollify James Longstreet's objections and the differences in both intentions and expectations between Lee and Stonewall Jackson (and how much discretion the latter was granted by the former) when it came to the army's planned approach to dealing with the stubborn Martinsburg and Harpers Ferry garrisons. While the Battle of South Mountain unquestionably would have turned out differently had Lee kept Longstreet's command nearby at Boonsboro rather than sending it to Hagerstown, Stotelmyer suggests that the dispersal essentially consigned the campaign to failure and erased from the realm of possibility what could very well have been a major Confederate victory in the mountain passes.
Civil War history is replete with accounts of both respectful and disrespectful disposition of enemy slain, and among the latter lies the Fox Gap legend of Wise's Well. According to the story, local resident Daniel Wise took advantage of the going rate paid for civilian-assisted burials (said to be $1 "per head") and on September 15 pitched dozens of Confederates (alleged numbers vary) into his own well, which was most likely dry and unfinished at the time. Citing a multitude of sources immediate to the incident, Stotelmyer's research, however, points to Union burial parties (by some accounts highly intoxicated to steel themselves for the grisly task) performing the deed a day later on September 16, and that there were at least 58 bodies unceremoniously disposed of in the well. The accumulated evidence for that is convincing, but we're still left with some secondary accounts that Wise admitted to being associated with the matter. Finding no evidence that Wise was even present along with the fact that he was never paid a dime by the government, Stotelmyer raises the possibility that Wise, who was not particularly well off and whose cabin was wrecked by the battle and its aftereffects, briefly floated some level of responsibility for the burials in hopes of getting official recompense for his personal property disaster. One of the oddest side notes to this whole story is that the Wise family actually converted the well into a drinking water cistern after the remains were removed for official reburial in 1874.
High-ranking officer shootings such as those that laid low Stonewall Jackson at Chancellorsville, John Reynolds at Gettysburg, and John Sedgwick at Spotsylvania were momentous events that always raise questions surrounding precise circumstances and responsibility. Another exalted personage to add to the list is Major General Jesse Lee Reno, who was mortally wounded at Fox's Gap. Stotelmyer's chapter meticulously retraces both the events of the fighting at Fox's gap and the possible scenarios behind Reno's demise. In the end, after weighing all the conflicting evidence, Stotelmyer is forced to admit that no clear-cut conclusion is possible (now or probably ever) regarding which side shot Reno or even where exactly the general was hit. More important in the grand scheme of things is how Reno's death might have shaped subsequent events. In terms of the effect Reno's demise had on the course of the campaign, the author speculates that it is highly possible that the fighting on the Union left at Antietam would have unfolded very differently, perhaps decisively so, had Reno lived and the resulting high command confusion not occurred.
That very command confusion (mainly between Jacob Cox, who assumed Reno's post, and Ambrose Burnside, whose wing command was suspended by McClellan after South Mountain) is the subject of the seventh and final main essay. In it the author cites conflicting understandings of duties and responsibilities as having a major impact on the deployment of Ninth Corps divisions at Antietam and the timing of their attacks. There is plenty of blame to go around, but the piece argues that much of the criticisms historically attached to George McClellan and his staff have been misplaced (much of the author's viewpoint on that particular matter is in opposition to what Scott Hartwig maintains in I Dread the Thought of the Place). Stotelmyer seems willing to lend credence to the impression that Burnside was sulking (state of mind always being a hazardous thing to speculate upon) after his perceived demotion and, generally speaking, in the wake of Reno's death didn't do enough to clear up for Cox the wing/corps's "ambiguous bifurcated command structure" (pg. 290).
While the main body of the book ends after the seventh essay, there's much more on the author's table. The appendix section (A through K) yields a compilation of numerous essays of varying length. These include freshly detailed examinations of a series of smaller-scale September 9-13 engagements (at Sugar Loaf Mountain, Frederick, Hagan's Gap, and Quebec Schoolhouse), new looks at some old stories and legends, and even some poetry. The author also explores how the pain, discomfort, and limitations imposed upon Lee by his significant arm, wrist, and hand injuries suffered during a post-Second Manassas accident might have affected the commanding general's physical capabilities, mental state, and judgment during the ensuing Maryland Campaign.
This is another fine collection of insightful and challenging essays from Steven Stotelmyer. One can argue with some of his conclusions, and disagree here and there with certain speculative paths taken, but the depth of research and ability to sift through conflicting evidence and construct valid arguments either in support of or in opposition to traditional narratives are both prominently displayed. Another strong release from the Antietam Institute's growing catalog of original publications, this volume is recommended reading for every student of the Maryland Campaign.
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