Invading Maryland

In September of 1862, the Army of Northern Virginia made its first attempt to invade the north, crossing the Potomac River into Maryland and clashing with Union forces outside of Sharpsburg. The twelve hour battle became the bloodiest day in American history, with 23,000 casualties. So in other words, it really wasn’t a good day for anyone. Since we’ve been to most of the other major battlefields (and a lot of the non-major ones as well), I figured we’d better drive up and check it out. It didn’t appear like the area had changed a whole lot in the last 150 years. There was even a sycamore tree standing by the bridge that had been there since the battle. The fight itself ended in a draw, but if it were fought today, the outcome would be a decisive Union victory, because I’ve driven in Northern Virginia, and it’s impossible to move more than 2 miles an hour in a car, let alone mobilize an army. And it wouldn’t matter if you were marching at two in the afternoon, it would be bumper to bumper single file through orange cones with nobody working on the roads. But I guess when you did finally get to Maryland you’d want to fire a cannon at somebody’s face. At least that's how I feel when I drive in Virginia.

Paul could care less where we go, as long as he gets to run around in the grass.

The Bloody Lane. In less than four hours, more than 5,000 soldiers were lost on this road. It's impossible to imagine what it would have sounded like, with as quiet as it is now.

The young historian.

The wind was pretty strong, but otherwise it was a warm spring day in rural Maryland.

Paul and Dad reflecting on the waters of Antietam Creek from the Burnside Bridge.

It was kind of a long drive to get there, through the back country of Maryland, but it turned out to be worth the drive (or at least I thought so anyway). And Becky is always thrilled to go look at cannons and hear me rattle off historical facts as I read them from the signs.