Maj. Gen. George B. McClellan
affected a smile as he read the fateful orders from
Washington. Turning toward his late night visitor, McClellan
spoke without revealing his bitter disappointment. "Well
Burnside, I turn the command over to you." With these words,
the charismatic, overcautious leader of the Union's most
famous fighting force exited the military stage, yielding to
a new man with a different vision of war.
Gen. Ambrose E. Burnside inherited the Army of the
Potomac on November 7, 1862. Its 120,000 men occupied camps
near Warrenton, Virginia. Within two days, the 38 year-old
Indiana native proposed abandoning McClellan's sluggish
southwesterly advance in favor of a 40-mile dash across
country to Fredericksburg. Such a maneuver would position
the Federal army on the direct road to Richmond, the
Confederate capital, as well as ensure a secure supply line
to Washington.
President Lincoln approved Burnside's initiative but
advised him to march quickly. Burnside took the President at
his word and launched his army toward Fredericksburg on
November 15. The bewhiskered commander (whose facial hair
inspired the term "sideburns") also streamlined the army's
organization by partitioning it into thirds that he styled
"grand divisions." The blueclad veterans covered the miles
at a brisk pace and on November 17 the lead units arrived
opposite Fredericksburg on Stafford Heights.
Burnside's swift March placed General Robert E. Lee and
his Army of Northern Virginia at a perilous disadvantage.
After the Maryland Campaign, Lee had boldly divided his
78,000 men, leaving Lt. Gen. Thomas J. "Stonewall" Jackson
in the Shenandoah Valley while sending Lt. Gen. James
Longstreet to face the Federals at Culpeper. Lee had not
anticipated Burnside's shift to Fredericksburg and now
neither of his wings was in position to defend the old city.
The Federals could not move South, however, without first
crossing the Rappahannock River, the largest of several
river barriers that flowed across his path to Richmond.
Because the civilian bridges had been destroyed earlier in
the war, Burnside directed that pontoon equipment meet him
at Stafford Heights. A combination Of miscommunication,
inefficient army bureaucracy, and poor weather delayed the
arrival of the floating bridges. When the pontoons finally
appeared on November 25, so had the Army of Northern
Virginia.
Burnside's strategy depended upon an unopposed crossing
of the Rappahannock. Consequently, his plan had failed
before a gun had been fired. Nevertheless, the country
demanded action. Winter weather would soon render Virginia's
highways impassable and end serious campaigning until
spring. The Union commander had no choice but to search for
a new way to outwit Lee and satisfy the public's desire for
victory. This would not be an easy task.
Longstreet's corps appeared at Fredericksburg on November
19. Lee ordered it to occupy a range of hills behind the
town, reaching from the Rappahannock on its left to marshy
Massaponax Creek on its right. When Jackson's men arrived
more than a week later, Lee dispatched them as far as 20
miles down river from Fredericksburg. The Confederate army
thus guarded a long stretch of the Rappahannock, unsure of
where the Federals might attempt a crossing. Burnside
harbored the same uncertainties. After agonizing
deliberation, he finally decided to build bridges at three
places - two opposite the city and the other one a mile
downstream. The Union commander knew that Jackson's corps
could not assist Longstreet in resisting a river passage
near town. Thus, Burnside's superior numbers would encounter
only half of Lee's legions. Once across the river, the
Federals would strike Longstreet's overmatched defenders,
outflank Jackson, and send the whole Confederate army
reeling toward Richmond.
Burnside's lieutenants, however, doubted the practicality
of their chiefs plan. "There were not two opinions among the
subordinate officers as to the rashness of the undertaking,
"wrote one corps commander. Nevertheless, in the foggy
pre-dawn hours of December II, Union engineers crept to the
riverbank and began laying their pontoons. Skilled workmen
from two New York regiments completed a pair of bridges at
the lower crossing and pushed the upstream spans more than
halfway to the fight bank; then the sharp crack of musketry
erupted from the river-front houses and yards of
Fredericksburg.
These shots came from a brigade of Mississippians
under William Barksdale. Their job was to delay any Federal
attempt to negotiate the Rappahannock at Fredericksburg.
Nine distinct and desperate attempts were made to complete
the bridge[s] reported a Confederate officer, "but every one
was attended by such heavy loss that the efforts were
abandoned..."
Burnside now turned to his artillery chief, Brig. Gen.
Henry J. Hunt, and ordered him to blast Fredericksburg into
submission with some 150 guns trained on the city from
Stafford Heights. Such a barrage would surely dislodge the
Confederate infantry and permit completion of the bridges.
Shortly after noon, Hunt gave the signal to commence fire.
"Rapidly the huge guns vomited forth their terrible shot and
shell into every corner and thoroughfare of
[Fredericksburg]," remembered an eyewitness.
The bombardment continued for nearly two hours, during
which 8,000 projectiles rained destruction on
Fredericksburg. Then the grand cannonade ceased and the
engineers ventured warily to the ends of their unfinished
bridges. Suddenly -impossibly - muzzles flashed again from
the cobble-strewn streets and more pontoniers tumbled into
the cold waters of the Rappahannock.
Burnside now authorized volunteers to ferry themselves
across the river in the clumsy pontoon boats. Men from
Michigan, Massachusetts, and New York scrambled aboard the
scows, frantically pulling at oar's to navigate the
hazardous 400 feet to the Confederates' side. Once on shore,
the Federals charged Barksdale's marksmen who, despite
orders to fall back, fiercely contested each block in a rare
example of street fighting during the Civil War. After dusk
the brave Mississippians finally withdrew to their main
line, the bridge builders completed their work, and the Army
of the Potomac entered Fredericksburg.
December 12 dawned cold and foggy. Burnside began pouring
reinforcements into the city but made no effort to organize
an attack. Instead, the Northerners squandered the day
looting and vandalizing homes and shops. A Connecticut
chaplain left a graphic account of some of this shameful
behavior:
I saw men break down the doors to rooms of fine houses,
enter, shatter the looking glasses with the blow of the ax,
[and] knock the vases and lamps off the mantelpiece with a
careless swing ... A cavalry man sat down at a fine
rosewood Piano ... drove his saber through the polished
keys, then knocked off the top [and] tore out the strings
...
Lee, on the other hand, utilized the time by recalling
half of Jackson's corps from its isolated posts downstream.
Following a personal reconnaissance during the afternoon,
"Stonewall" sent word to the rest of his troops to march
that night to the point of danger. Forced by political
considerations to bring on a battle, Burnside's own needless
delay on December 12 lengthened the odds against the
Unionists' success.
The Battle of Fredericksburg would unfold in a natural
amphitheater bounded on the east by the Rappahannock River
and on the west by the line of hills fortified by Lee. When
Jackson's men arrived from downstream, Longstreet sidled his
corps to the north, defending roughly five miles of Lee's
front. He mounted guns at Strong points such as Taylor's
Hill, Marye's Heights, Howison Hill, and Telegraph (later
Lee's) Hill, the Confederate command post. "Old Pete's" five
divisions of infantry supported his artillery at the base of
the slopes.
Below Marye's Heights a Georgia brigade under Brig. Gen.
Thomas R. R. Cobb poised along a 600-yard portion of the
Telegraph Road, the main thoroughfare to Richmond. Years of
wagon traffic had worn down the surface of the roadway
lending it a sunken appearance. Stone retaining walks
paralleling the shoulders transformed this peaceful stretch
of country highway into a ready-made trench. Jackson's end
of the line possessed less inherent strength. His command
post at Prospect Hill rose only 65 feet above the
surrounding plain. Jackson compensated for the weak terrain
by stacking his four divisions one behind the other to a
depth of nearly a mile. Any Union offensive against Lee's
seven-mile line would, by necessity, traverse a virtually
naked expanse in the teeth of a deadly artillery crossfire
before reaching the Confederate infantry.
Burnside issued his attack orders early on the morning of
December 13. They called for an assault against Jackson's
corps by Maj.. Gen. William B. Franklin's Left Grand
Division to be followed by an advance against Marye's
Heights by Maj. Gen. Edwin V. Sumner's Right Grand Division.
Burnside used tentative, ambiguous language in his
directives, reflecting either a lack of confidence in his
plan or a misunderstanding of his opponent's posture --
perhaps both.
Burnside had reinforced Franklin's sector on the morning
of battle to a strength of some 60,000 men. Franklin, a
brilliant engineer but cautious combatant, placed the most
literal and conservative interpretation on Burnside's
ill-phrased instructions. He designated Maj. Gen. George G.
Meade's division -- just 4,500 troops -- to spearhead his
attack.
Meade's men, Pennsylvanians all, moved out in the misty
half-light about 8:30 a.m. and headed straight for Jackson's
line, not quite one mile distant. Suddenly, artillery fire
exploded to the left and rear of Meade's lines. Maj. John
Pelham had valiantly moved two small guns into position
along the Richmond Stage Road perpendicular to Meade's axis
of march. The 24 year-old Alabamian ignored orders from Maj.
Gen. J.E.B. Stuart to disengage and continued to disrupt the
Federal formations for almost an hour. General Lee, watching
the action from Prospect Hill, remarked, "it is glorious to
see such courage in one so young."
When Pelham exhausted his ammunition and retired, Meade
resumed his approach, Jackson patiently allowed the Federals
to Close to within 500 yards Of the wooded elevation where a
14-gun battalion lay hidden in the trees. As the
Pennsylvanians drew near to the Richmond, Fredericksburg,
and Potomac Railroad north of Hamilton's Crossing,
"Stonewall" unleashed his masked artillery. Confederate
shells ripped gaping holes in Meade's ranks and the
beleaguered Unionists sought protection behind wrinkles of
ground in the open fields.
Union guns responded to Jackson's cannoneers. A
fullthroated artillery duel raged for an hour, killing so
many draft animals that the Southerners called their
position "Dead Horse Hill." When one Union shot
spectacularly exploded a Confederate ammunition wagon, the
crouching Federal infantry let loose a spontaneous Yankee
cheer. Meade, seizing the moment, ordered his men to fix
bayonets and charge.
Meade's soldiers focused on a triangular point of woods
that jutted toward them across the railroad as the point of
reference for their assault. When they reached these trees
they learned, to their delight, that no Southerners defended
them. In fact, Jackson had allowed a 600-yard gap to exist
along his front and Meade's troops accidentally discovered
it.
The Unionists pushed through the boggy forest and hit a
brigade of South Carolinians, who at first mistook the
attackers for retreating Confederates. Their commander,
Brig. Gen. Maxcy Gregg, paid for this error with a fatal
bullet through his spine. Meade's men rolled forward and
gained the crest of the heights deep within Jackson's
defenses.
Jackson, who had learned of the crisis in his front from
an officer in Gregg's brigade, calmly directed his vast
reserves to move forward and restore the line. The
Southerners raised the "Rebel Yell" and slammed into the
exhausted and outnumbered Pennsylvanians. "The action was
close-handed and men fell like leaves in autumn," remembered
one Federal. "It seems miraculous that any of us escaped at
all."
Jackson's counterattack drove Meade out of the forest,
across the railroad, and through the fields to the Richmond
Stage Road. Union artillery eventually arrested the
Confederate momentum. Except for a minor probe by a New
Jersey brigade along the Lansdowne Road in the late
afternoon and an aborted Confederate offensive at dusk, the
fighting on the south end of the field was over.
Burnside waited anxiously at his headquarters on Stafford
Heights for news of Franklin's offensive. According to the
Union plan, the advance through Fredericksburg toward
Marye's Heights would not commence until the Left Grand
Division began rolling up Jackson's corps. By late morning,
however, the despairing Federal commander discarded his
already-suspect strategy and ordered Sumner's grand division
to move to the attack.
In several ways, Marye's Heights offered the Federals
their most promising target. Not only did this sector of
Lee's defenses lie closest to the shelter of Fredericksburg,
but the ground rose less steeply here than on the
surrounding hills.
Nevertheless, Union soldiers had to leave the city,
descend into a valley bisected by a water-filled canal
ditch, and ascend an open slope of 400 yards to reach the
base of the heights. Artillery atop Marye's Heights and
nearby elevations would thoroughly blanket the Federal
approach. "A chicken could not live on that field when we
open on it," boasted on Confederate cannoneer.
Sumner's first assault began at noon and set the pattern
for a ghastly series of attacks that continued, one after
another, until dark. As soon as the Northerners marched out
of Fredericksburg, Longstreet's artillery wreaked havoc on
the crisp blue formations. The Unionists then encountered a
deadly bottleneck at the canal ditch which was spanned by
partially-destroyed bridges at only three places. Once
across this obstacle, the attackers established shallow
battle lines under cover of a slight bluff that shielded
them from Reel eyes.
Orders then rang out for the final advance. The landscape
beyond the canal ditch contained a few buildings and fences,
but from the military perspective it provided virtually no
protection. Dozens of Southern cannon immediately reopened
on the easy targets and when the Federals traversed about
half the remaining distance, as sheet of flame spewed forth
from the Sunken Road. This rifle fire decimated the
Northerners. Survivors found refuge behind a small swale in
the ground or retreated back to the canal ditch valley.
Quickly a new Federal brigade burst toward Marye's
Heights and the "terrible stone wall," then another, and
another, until three entire divisions had hurled themselves
at the Confederate bastion. In one hour, the Army of the
Potomac lost nearly 3,000 men; but the madness continued.
Although General Cobb suffered a mortal wound early in
the action, the Southern line remained firm. Kershaw's
Brigade joined North Carolinians in reinforcing Cobb's men
in the Sunken Road. The Confederates stood four ranks deep,
maintaining a ceaseless musketry while the gray artillerists
fired over their heads.
More Union units tested the impossible. "We came forward
as though breasting a storm of rain and sleet, our faces and
bodies being only half- turned to the storm, our shoulders
shrugged," remembered one Federal. "Everybody from the
smallest drummer boy on up seemed to be shouting to the full
extent of his capacity," recalled another. But each blue
wave crested short of the goal. Not a single Union soldier
laid his hand on the stone wan.
Lee, from his lofty perch on Telegraph Hill, watched
Longstreet's almost casual destruction of Burnside's
divisions as Jackson's counterattack repulsed Meade. Turning
toward Longstreet, Lee confessed, "It is well that war is so
terrible. We should grow too fond of it."
Burnside ordered Maj. Gen. Joseph Hooker's Center Grand
Division to join the attack in the afternoon, and late in
the day, troops from the Fifth Corps moved for-ward. Brig.
Gen. Andrew A. Humphreys led his division through the human
debris of the previous assaults. Some of Humphreys' soldiers
shook off well-meaning hands that clutched at them to
prevent their advance. Part of one brigade sustained its
momentum until it drew within 25 yards of the stone wall.
There, it too melted away.
The final Union effort began after sunset. Colonel Rush
C. Hawkins' brigade, the fifteenth such Federal unit to
charge the Sunken Road that day, enjoyed no more success
than its predecessors. Darkness shrouded the battlefield and
at last the guns fell silent.
The hideous cries of the wounded, "weird, unearthly,
terrible to hear and bear," echoed through the night.
Burnside wrote orders to renew the assaults on December 14,
wishing to lead them personally, but his subordinates
dissuaded him from this suicidal scheme. On the evening of
December 15-16, Burnside skillfully withdrew his army to
Stafford Heights, dismantling his bridges behind him. The
Fredericksburg Campaign had ended.
Grim arithmetic tells only a part of the Fredericksburg
story. Lee suffered 5,300 casualties but inflicted more than
twice that many losses on his opponent. Of the 12,600
Federal soldiers killed, wounded, or missing, almost
two-thirds fell in front of the stone wall.
Despite winning in the most overwhelming tactical sense,
however, the Battle of Fredericksburg proved to be a hollow
victory for the Confederates. The limitless resources of the
North soon rectified Burnside's losses in manpower and
materiel. Lee, on the other hand, found it difficult to
replenish either missing soldiers or needed supplies. The
Battle of Fredericksburg, although profoundly discouraging
to Union soldiers and the Northern populace, made no
decisive impact on the war. Instead, it merely postponed the
next "On to Richmond" campaign until the spring.
The text for this section was written by
A. Wilson Green, former staff historian for Fredericksburg
and Spotsylvania National Military Park. It is derived from
a National Park Service training booklet.
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