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Visit to Antietam by Charles L. Cingolani 1. Alone I arrive, walking from Frederick over the gaps, across gentle hills out onto a knoll to view this burnished landscape. Before me I see countless writhing rows of indiscernible shapes gathered in terrible rituals mid fire and smoke that darken the sun. From distant corners I hear the rhythmic thudding of cannon, and from fields astir with figures converging the eery muffled rumbling of drums. From behind, hoofing sod aloft couriers gallop past straightway into throngs to where ruffled flags slant, to men mounted, with