Battery L, 1st Artillery Regiment (Light) - George Breck Columns: Chapter 14: “What A Sacrifice Of Human Life Is This!” Fredericksburg, Nov. 20, 1862 – Dec. 18, 1862
McClellan was not en route to Richmond, but Ambrose Burnside intended to lead the Army of the Potomac there. Burnside’s plan was to quickly shift his army to Falmouth opposite Fredericksburg on the Rappahannock, cross the river there, and then advance along the Richmond, Fredericksburg and Potomac Railroad to Richmond before Lee realized what was happening. It almost worked. Burnside, who had reorganized his army into three grand divisions, marched one of them under Gen. Edwin Sumner to the riverbank opposite Fredericksburg in two and a half days, arriving Nov. 17. The rest of the army followed by the 20th. Lee was caught flat-footed. Unfortunately, the pontoon equipment Burnside felt he needed to ford the river didn’t arrive until Nov. 27. By then, Longstreet’s Corps had occupied the formidable heights behind Fredericksburg. The element of surprise was lost, and the army waited, while Burnside pondered his next move…(1)
In Camp Four Miles West of Stafford Court House
Thursday Night, Nov. 20, 1862
(Appeared Friday, Nov. 28, 1862)
Dear Union: Raining almost in torrents, mud ankle deep, “dark as Egypt,” and, on the whole, this is a night fit for the subject of a novelist – in which to lay and unfold some thrilling, exciting and highly startling “plot,” akin in character to the darkness and awfulness of the night. As I write it rains faster and faster, and the big drops come pattering down on the roof of our little cotton house, which unfortunately has no “fly,” and it having stood the storms and weather of several months of camp life and campaign, it has begun to be the worse for wear, and so the water finds an inlet into my domicile through the weather beaten roof, which, of course, materially affects the dryness of things within. Wet enough our floor is, I assure you, which is soft and springy as one need wish, the flooring consisting of pulp soil – made so by the rain and furnished by mother earth. Small pools of water lie here and there, which bid to become rivulets of no small size ere morning if it continues to rain as it does, and if we find ourself floating off before the break of day, it will be to us no matter of astonishment. Yes, we repeat, it is an awful dark, rainy, stormy night, and may God bless the poor soldiers who are exposed in a very much more severe form than your correspondent is to all the pitiless effects of such a night, with nothing but the wet ground to lie down upon and under the cover of shelter tents only, which afford but ill protection from a drenching, soaking rain.
The caption of my letter informs you about where we are. Aquia Creek is eight or nine miles to our east, and the city of Fredericksburg, the new and great “base” of the army’s supplies and operations, lies south of us, some ten or twelve miles. A sudden change and doubtless a surprising one, to the country, in the movements of the Army of the Potomac, has been effected in less than a week’s time. An unexpected and equally surprising change to the enemy also, though at Richmond it became known, as is stated, twelve hours previous to its commencement. A wonderful facility the Confederates have for obtaining Federal administrative and army secrets. All useless, to put an embargo on private and public army correspondence. The enemy seems to be almost omniscient in matters pertaining to the movements and operations of our own forces. A subtle, as well as a most earnest and desperate foe, we have to deal with.
We left Fayettville, where my last was dated, on Monday forenoon (Nov. 17) of this week, and marching some twelve miles, we arrived late at night at a place called Deep Hollow, where we encamped till the next morning when we again resumed our march. The country through which we passed is miserably poor, the land being of a sandy, clayey character and looking like the last run of lands, barren and impoverished. The country is more level than that through which we had traversed, but considerably undulating and abounding with pine and cedar trees. The further we advanced, the greater the number of pine woods, and we passed through forests of them. The roads were good with few exceptions, which ought to facilitate our marching, but we were provokingly delayed, obliged to “halt” very frequently every two rods in consequence of the roads becoming blocked up with baggage and supply trains. Army and camp life is certainly no promoter of virtue, but perhaps the virtue of patience will be greatly acquired by the soldiers from the force of circumstances. They are subjected to a thousand annoyances, inconveniences, trials, etc. arising from delays of a varied nature, but they have to put up with them, and after awhile they become used to it and patiently control themselves with the thought, “well, it is only for three years or during the war.”
Tuesday night (Nov. 18) found us encamped with the whole division on a large farm or plantation near Hartwood, one of the many one-horse settlements that characterize Virginia. The encampments which dotted the hills and plains of this farm that night were a beautiful sight – appearing like miniature cities, glistening with lights and blazing with fires, as if some grand illumination was going on, commemorative of some wonderful event. The bustle and rapidity which marks the pitching of a camp is very striking. A few minutes suffice to transform a quiet unoccupied field, with its surroundings of woods, fences, etc., into a life like scene of stirring activity, peopled by an army of soldiers with all the paraphernalia of war, who may be seen putting up tents, unloading teams, running hither and thither in quest of hay for horses, or straw for beds, or rails for fires, every one intent on getting “settled” as speedily as possible. For awhile everything and everybody is all stir and excitement, but order is soon brought out of confusion, the numberless tents are all pitched, the horses are picketed, the camp fires are burning, and coffee and “hard tack” are sought with an avidity and relish which would do justice to an epicure.
Wednesday morning (yesterday) we broke up our temporary camp, and in the midst of a sprinkling of rain moved again in the direction of our destination. Pioneers were sent forward to fix the road, which the rain had already begun to make bad, in addition to the travel over it. Passing through a large wood of pines, over a newly made road, we descended into a hollow of several acres, completely enclosed by trees, and here we remained from 10 o’clock in the forenoon till about 4 p.m., waiting for a train of teams to ascend a very steep hill leading out of the hollow. The infantry filed up over another path, leaving us with our heavy gun carriages to follow after as soon as we could make our way up the rugged and mountainous heights. We did so finally, by doubling our teams and after an immense amount of hauling; but it was no easy task to accomplish. It was almost equal to our ascent of Maryland Heights.
A march of two miles brought us to a large farm, the termination of the road we traversed and here we found Gibbon’s, formerly Rickett’s, division encamped on a hilly and swampy ground and here we were to take up our quarters for the night. To pitch our tents in a swamp was by no means desirable, and so it was determined to climb a steep hill, through tall grass and stripling pines, over an untrodden path, and on the top of the hill make our camp. In the effort to do this one of our wagons came to a stand while crossing a ditch, which necessitated the emptying of all its contents, and the application of six horse power to drag the vehicle from the depths of mud in which it was buried. This did not suffice. A score of human hands must come to the rescue also, which accomplished the work. Our encampment was in an isolated position, away from the division and the other batteries, but wood and water were handy and we liked the spot under the circumstances. Our stay here was brief however, for this morning orders came to move and encamp with the other batteries in the division on a hill opposite where we are.
Reaching the hill we were assigned a position which so interfered with the camp of one of the infantry regiments of Paul’s brigade, that we had no sooner unpacked and begun to get nicely settled when the assembly call blew, and we had to pack up and move again. And now it was raining in large streams, and, wet through, we pitched our camp in our present locality, on ground naturally soft, but how much more so saturated with water. The boys have christened our camp “Camp Misery,” but it is not devoid of some good features, as a small wood covers a portion of the ground, and beneath the trees are scattered many of the tents. The axe will soon make way with many of the trees, for rails are not to be had, and the quartermaster doesn’t furnish dry wood for warming or cooking purposes.
Here is our camp, here we are to remain, I have been told, for one or two, and perhaps three weeks. From present appearances, it would seem that it is not improbable our stay may be lengthened out in this unpleasant location for a much longer period than mentioned above. The heavy fall of rain now descending, and which has been showering the earth for twenty-four hours, will put Virginia roads in such a condition over which it will be impossible to traverse with artillery and wagons. The roads will become impassable unless the storm soon subsides and the mud dries up. The progress of the army will certainly be stayed and Richmond will not be ours “within ten days,” as predicted by a Washington newspaper. We truly hope the winter has not fully set in in this region, now that the prospects of achieving a brilliant campaign have just been so flattering.
Our readers probably know that we belong to the left grand division of the army of the Potomac, commanded by Major-General Franklin, composed as it is of the 1st and 6th corps. (2)
What say the enemies and fault-finders of Gen. McClellan to the intensely interesting document of Prince de Joinville concerning the Peninsula campaign? (3) There has been no mutiny among the troops, as I said there would not be, in consequence of McClellan’s removal, but they are ready and eager to fight under Burnside; and if he will lead them forward to victory, he will certainly have their love and gratitude, as he has now their esteem and confidence. But the removal of Gen. McClellan has not in the least impaired the confidence of the soldiers in the ability of whom they still call their commander. They believe him to be true as steel – as worthy of their love and trust as was the immortal Washington. But like their late Commander in chief, they will stand by the country and the constitution, following whom they are told to follow and doing what they are told to do, whether in conflict with “personal considerations” or not.
No paymaster has made his appearance yet – almost seven months pay due the company. A hard matter this for soldiers to go unpaid so long a time, especially those who have families to support from the little they earn from Government. A little murmuring by such under circumstances of this apparently shameful character would not be unreasonable, most assuredly, though it might do no good. The immediate prospects of pay are very slim. Another loan will probably have to be raised before payment can be made, and that may not be effected till long after the meeting of Congress. What is Government thinking of, keeping soldiers’ just and hard-earned pay so long in the arrears? May not many desertions be attributable to this cause? I have been told of an instance where a married soldier procured leave of absence to go to Washington, but on arriving there, immediately started for his home to relieve the wants of his family, who were actually suffering for the necessaries of life, the soldier having been unable to render support in consequence of the long denial of pay due him in the public service of his country. Are not home obligations equal in importance to those of country? Lieut. Reynolds, who has just returned from Washington, reports that there is no money there, and even discharged soldiers, with amputated limbs, or maimed for life in some way, are sent home without their pay. Is our country already bankrupted? Better perhaps adopt the policy again of buying soldiers, instead of drafting them, and then the old soldiers, who have borne the burden and heat of the day so long will go unpaid altogether.
Our battery at present consists of but four pieces. We were “relieved” of two at Fayettville owing to a deficiency of horses. We are in hopes they will be returned to us before long. G.B.
Nov. 21
The windows of heaven were wide open all last night and, as a consequence, there is an ocean of mud this morning. A strong wind is blowing, however, and it may dry up before Thanksgiving in New York – not before, I am sure.
Many of the boys awoke this morning to find themselves floating in water. We may go to Richmond after all by water, or in boat transports. A wonderful country Virginia is when it rains. The country in this vicinity looks poverty stricken. The timber growing about here is second growth. The soil has been “worked to death” and appears incapable of yielding a spire of grass.
Trains have gone to Aquia Creek to bring supplies. The road between here and there is said to be one of the very worst. The infantry will have work enough to do, we imagine, building corduroy roads. G.B.
(Corduroy roads consisted of branches or small tree trunks laid side by side on the ground, providing a more solid surface during muddy conditions.)
Camp near Brooks’ Station, Va.
November 27, 1862
(Appeared Friday, Dec. 5, 1862)
Dear Union: What a contrast between to-night and a week ago to-night when we last wrote you. Then it blew and rained, and stormed most furiously, was pitchy dark, and your correspondent sat in his leaky cotton house, shivering with the cold, his feet almost buried in the mud, and, as was observed, it was an “awful night!” But not so, as we now write. Not a cloud to be seen, the moon shining brightly, the stars twinkling, the air ruffled but lightly, the earth in a comparatively dry condition – though the roads are still in a terrible plight, owing to the late rains – and the night is one of beauty and gloriousness. And a beautiful day it has been. We hope that our friends far away at the North have been favored to-day with weather equally pleasant as we have enjoyed; for if so, it has doubtless added to the pleasant features of Thanksgiving, the observance of which was to take place to-day in the Empire State.
Thanksgiving Day! How different the circumstances which it has been observed at home and in camp. At home, beside the cheerful fire side in the midst of plenty, with the sanctuary to attend, with the surroundings of a refined and happy society, and in the enjoyment of the inestimable blessings which are associated with the peaceful avocations of life. In camp, tented in the open field, deprived of home comforts and luxuries in a land wasted and blighted by intestine strife, surrounded by all the paraphernalia of war, ready at any moment to engage in fierce and deadly combat with a desperate foe, and it may be, fall in death in the combat. Widely different the spending of Thanksgiving at home and in camp, or in the field. The reader need not be told how the soldier has cast many a wishful look since the rising of this morning’s sun towards the “dearest spot on earth,” and has wished himself present at the “family gatherings,” a participant in the festive scenes of a thanksgiving dinner. Present in spirit he has been, if not in person. Will another Thanksgiving Day, we wonder, find this great army broken up and dispersed, the tens of thousands of soldiers now clad in the panoply of war, at their scattered and respective homes, divested of all military trappings, performing the peaceful duties of citizens, no longer needed to bear arms in defence of country, for that country has been rescued from destruction, the rebellion has been crushed, the Union has been restored, and peace, so long fought for and prayed for, and so dearly achieved, reigns triumphant throughout all the land, from the Atlantic to the Pacific, from the Northern Lakes to the great Southern Gulf. Will the Thanksgiving of another year, we repeat, witness all this?
This afternoon Gen. Patrick, General Provost-Marshal of the Army of the Potomac, addressed his old brigade, now commanded by Gen. Paul. Probably there is no brigade or division general in the whole army more esteemed and respected than is General Patrick by his late command. He has their love and confidence, won by his noble qualities as a christian man and a devoted patriot, and by his high qualifications as a brave, energetic and efficient soldier and officer. His presence was greeted by his old troops to-day with great enthusiasm, and his remarks to them were received with the greatest attention and interest. He addressed them not as soldiers, but as citizens of New York State, the brigade being composed of New York volunteers, and interrogated them on what their future was to be when they were dismissed from service and returned to their homes. Most of them expected to be discharged next spring, their term of enlistment extending till then only, and it was most important that they, if permitted to return to civil life again, should carry with them from the camp and field those manners and habits which would benefit and elevate the communities in which they lived. Camp life was at variance with the acquiring of such habits, and it therefore became a matter of deep concern and watchfulness that the soldier should look well to the formation of some of those habits, which would bring disgrace upon himself, mortification to his friends, add evil to the community. The General alluded to the deterioration of morals in villages, towns and cities where soldiers had been enlisted and when they returned to such places after the breaking up of a great army. This fact was witnessed after the Mexican war. The soldier on his return home would find society partially changed, everything more or less unsettled, the result of the terrible struggle now pending. The North, as well as the South, is feeling the disastrous effects of the war in a thousand ways, though its homes, thanks to a kind Providence, have not been ravaged and destroyed by the tramp of armed hosts, making waste and desolate, even to famine, homes that one year ago were most beautiful, possessed of every attraction desirable and rich with the comforts of life.
Gen. P. spoke of the city of Fredericksburg, which was now forsaken by women and children, and by nearly all incapable of bearing arms, expecting that the place would be shelled, and then he reminded the soldiers what cause there was for gratitude that the towns and cities of the North, their homes, were free from the visitations of war in this terrible form.
After the conclusion of the impromptu address, the Star Spangled Banner was sung by the brigade with most patriotic effect.
The boys’ Thanksgiving dinner consisted of fresh beef, served up in various styles – boiled, fried, roasted on the end of a stick, just as fancy or convenience dictated – rice and molasses, and the inevitable hard tack. What say the good people at home to this sumptuous Thanksgiving entertainment.
We have occupied our present encampment since Saturday last (Nov. 22). Brooks’ Station will not be found, we think, on any map, but it is about half way between Aquia Creek and Fredericksburg on the railroad which connects the above places. Our camp is a mile from the Station, on rather a bleak hill where we have the benefit of all the wind we wish. Camps are scattered everywhere around us.
It is rumored that Fredericksburg will not be attacked till next week, when there will be a simultaneous attack on Richmond by General Banks’ expedition. (4)
The army is now very well replenished with commissary supplies, which were greatly lacking a few days ago, some regiments being almost destitute of everything. The horses are suffering, however, for the want of forage. Now that the cars are running from here to Aquia Creek, supplies of all kinds are fast pouring in, and horses will soon be provided for as well as men.
The railroad is not yet in working order, I believe, as far as Falmouth, but it is rapidly becoming so. The cars began running on Monday last (Nov.24) and their appearance was the occasion of loud hurrahs among the troops. The whistle of the locomotive and the rattling of the cars are music to the soldier and annihilate, apparently, the distance between home and camp. What a joyful time that will be when the almost million of soldiers now enlisted in their country’s service are told to get ready and take the cars for home. Why there will be such an acclamation of gratitude and joy that will fairly resound all over the continent. “I do wish the war was over.” That’s the feeling and the sentiment emphatically expressed in every company, every regiment, every brigade, every division, and every corps in the grand army of the United States. “Give us a speedy and honorable peace,” is the prayer that ascends from every camp, and the petition is uttered more and more importunately as day succeeds day. When will this peace dawn. G.B.
Camp near Brooks’ Station, Va.
December 4th, 1862
(Appeared Wednesday, Dec. 10, 1862)
Dear Union: -- Under marching orders again. They came last night notifying us to be ready to move at daylight this morning. Shortly afterwards a countermanding order was received not to move to-day, but to-morrow, as a supply of clothing had come and companies and regiments in our division deficient in that respect would provide themselves with what they needed previous to moving. The army is not wholly clothed yet, many requisitions having remained unfilled for several weeks, but doubtless in this particular there will be no further delay. The facilities for transporting and receiving quartermaster’s supplies to and by the great army of the Potomac were scarcely ever better than they are now, and the army’s wants for the past few days have been fully satisfied. Indeed, if every company is as well furnished with commissaries as our own, it will be a difficult matter to transport all the stores for want of transportation service. We have twelve days rations on hand. Fortunately our battery is allowed three teams, a liberal allowance, when we consider that some infantry regiments are permitted to have but six teams each. Our three wagons never have any surplus room for anything when marching, and they certainly will not when we come to pack up and move to-morrow.
We have been told that our destination is Belle Plain, a point laid down on the map lying at the mouth of Potomac Creek on the Potomac River. It is a place of landing, as the reader perhaps knows, and since the army changed its base of operations to this vicinity, Belle Plain, as also has Aquia Creek, has become a great depot for receiving supplies. Whether our sojourn at Belle Plain, if there’s where we are going, is to be a brief or a protracted one is a matter on which we are in the dark. The sixth corps or the right half of the division, passed our camp this morning on their way towards Belle Plain. The lines of Burnside’s army are, apparently, being contracted, perhaps, that the troops may be as near together as possible when the advance shall be made to Fredericksburg. It is generally believed that that city will be attacked ere the dawn of another week, and then again it is the confident belief of others that the army will go into winter quarters on this side of the Rappahannock. This belief was so strong and prevalent previous to receiving marching orders last night that many camps all around us had begun to assume a wintry aspect, the soldiers having built log huts, mud and log chimneys, and there was a general hauling of timber from the woods for the erection of snug and comfortable winter quarters.
We had commenced preparations for converting our high and bleak encampment into a warmer and pleasanter one, and there was a lively time yesterday among the boys with pick axes and shovels, but their labor has come to naught except so far as the exercise of work has been productive of good, physically considered.
The weather is charming and the roads are now in a passable condition. Of course there is no reliance to be placed on good roads at this season of the year, but if the present December proves like that of 1861 in this Southern latitude, the weather will be favorable for active operations. The “elements” will have a say in this matter, however. McClellan had to contend with them before he set out on his Peninsula campaign, and while executing it some of his critics raised a terrible hue and cry against the young commander for his great slowness and inactivity. Unfathomable mud and swollen streams ought to be no obstacle to him. We hope more charity will be exercised by these censorious and critical persons in the case of Burnside.
As I write Newton’s brigade is passing our camp. Artillery and infantry are crowding the road, and it is lined with troops. There seems to be a general movement of the army. On to Fredericksburg, if not to Richmond, is the order, I guess. G.B.
By Dec. 1, all of Lee’s army had gathered to oppose Burnside. Lee spread his army 20 miles downstream, assuming it was more likely Burnside would try to cross there, rather than try to assault the almost impregnable heights behind the town. Burnside, under pressure to do something, apparently convinced himself that a direct assault against Lee’s army at Fredericksburg might work after all, simply because it would be so unexpected. Finally, on Dec. 11, he sent Franklin’s Grand Division, including Battery L, to cross the river south of town and pitch into the right end of Lee’s army. Sumner’s grand division would cross at Fredericksburg itself, and attack the heights behind the town, pinning the rest of Lee’s army in place. Hooker’s grand division would be kept in reserve, ready to exploit any opening…. (5)
In the Field, Opposite Fredericksburg, Va.
11 a.m.
(Appeared Saturday, Dec. 20, 1862)
Dear Union: -- The two great armies have again met. The contest between Unionism and Constitutional Rights, and Disunionism and the overthrow of a government based upon the principles of Justice, Liberty and Equality, is again renewed. We know not how many times the two conflicting parties have clashed with each other in mortal combat, to decide which should triumph, Law and Order or Treason and Rebellion, Constitutional Freedom or Military Despotism. We know not definitely the loss of human life which has already resulted from the engagements of these two great and magnificent armies, nor can we estimate how much of carnage shall ensue before the present unhappy condition of affairs shall give place to Union and Peace. That which is past, only the cheaper feelings of humanity bid us regret; and that sacrifice of blood and treasure yet to be made, we offer freely as the price of what our country is worth, as the inestimable value of a nation’s life. God grant that the sacrifice offered for patriotism’s sake, for national preservation, honor and principle, may prove acceptable, and result in the perpetuity of our Government and the good of the world.
Before to-day’s sun shall set the news will doubtless have spread throughout the North that the Federal and Confederate armies came in collision at an early hour this morning on the Rappahannock river, front of Fredericksburg. Thither, millions of eager eyes and expectant hearts have been turned for many days past. As day after day has rolled by, nothing save the intelligence “all quiet on the Rappahannock” has been told the anxious millions, and the conviction has began to grow stronger and stronger in the minds of those at home and in the field that everything would remain “quiet” on the banks of the above stream until the advent of spring. But now the news has been communicated that a most terrific cannonading broke this silence and quietness before the hour of dawn this morning, and now, too, with how much greater eagerness and anxiety the transpiration of events in this vicinity is watched for. The battle of the war may now in very truth be begun, and how will it terminate is the all-absorbing thought and question.
In order to get his army across the Rappahannock, Burnside needed to put down those pontoon bridges that had been delayed. A brigade of Confederate infantry, dug in at Fredericksburg, bitterly contested the laying of pontoons for Sumner’s troops, picking off the engineers from hiding places in buildings and cellars. Burnside ordered his artillery to blast the Confederates from their hiding places. The barrage severely damaged the town, but did not root out the Rebels. Finally, infantry had to be rowed across to clear a bridgehead.
As I write, twenty-four and thirty-two pound guns are belching forth, with all the roar of heavy thunder, their iron missiles of death and destruction, and with the awful peals of these heavy ordnance are mingled the more sharp and cracking reports of lighter cannon, and all together a firing of cannon is going on which in rapidity, steadiness and loudness, excels anything we ever heard before in all the battles or engagements in which we have participated or have been a witness of. The earth trembles and the reverberation of the reports lasting sometimes for several seconds, over hills, through woods and far down the river, gives a sublimity to the affair, which is terrible and grand. The air is clear, which renders the noise of firing more distinct. Our own battery has not yet taken part in the action, which is confined principally about three miles to our right, directly opposite Fredericksburg. The action seems to be all on one side, very few shots have been fired by the rebels. The object of our firing appears to be the dislodgment of the enemy from rifle pits, near where the pontoon bridges are being thrown across. One bridge, we have just been told, is already constructed and a few minutes since we heard the hurrah of troops and immediately afterwards several volleys of musketry, the former proceeding from our soldiers on the completion of the bridge, and the latter coming from the rifle pits of the rebels. From two or three places in Fredericksburg large volumes of smoke are ascending, occasioned by the throwing of shells into the city and setting fire to the buildings. With a glass we can plainly see Mayor Slaughter’s house, and the spire of a church is easily discernible. Our batteries are scattered in all directions, lining fields and hills, and thousands of troops may be seen marching in columns over hills and fields towards the pontoon bridges. Will they attempt to cross to-day? Franklin’s grand division is reported to be all ready to cross, which we have been informed is to take the lead in crossing. A terrible struggle and slaughter are anticipated in the attempt to cross. Rebel camps and wagons can be seen on the hills opposite us, and now and then we catch glimpses of the “greyback.” Their position is a strong one, but whether they will attack us in force, while attempting to cross the river, or wait till our army reaches the south side of the Rappahannock is a question. Everything indicates that the battle of Richmond will be fought at or near the city of Fredericksburg.
Battery L, in the meantime, had been detached and assigned to a group of batteries positioned on the heights near Pollock’s Mill to support Franklin’s crossing south of town. These bridges were laid with little opposition.
Our battery is in position in readiness to speak for the Union, as in days gone bye, whenever the command to commence firing is given. We are on the extreme left with two other batteries, in a large field or flat, with a slight elevation of ground in front, and about half a mile in our front is the river, with a high embankment on the opposite side. We broke up camp near Brook’s Station, Monday morning (Dec. 8), marched some three miles that day over a rough frozen road, encamped in the snow that night, resumed our march the following forenoon, halting about halfway between Belle Plain and Falmouth – where we went into park with instructions to be ready and move out again at sunset. In our march of Tuesday we met Capt. George Forsyth with a squadron of cavalry on picket duty. We also saw Capt. Dahlgren, of Gen. Sigel’s staff, who has made himself quite famous in daring and successful cavalry exploits.
About seven o’clock, Tuesday evening (Dec. 9), we moved forward, by order of Capt. De Runny (De Russy), to whom we had been directed to report, to the place which we at present occupy. (6) The instruction was to move as still as possible, but the frozen roads, made smooth and slippery by travel, caused our heavy gun carriages to rumble very loudly, and we could hear the tramp of horses and the noise of other batteries far head of us, rolling over the hard roads. It was nearly midnight when we planted our pieces. The night was intensely cold; snow covered the ground, but no fires were allowed, and we had to bivouac in the open air, shelterless, but fortunately not without blankets. Before moving we found ourselves shivering with cold, and we could readily believe the reports that several of our pickets had been frozen to death one very cold night last week.
The firing this morning was begun by the enemy. There were two guns fired nearly opposite us, and about ten minutes after there were two more discharges further up the river, followed by another intermission of ten minutes, when two more cannon were fired apparently in a third and new locality. This firing was undoubtedly a signal on the part of the rebels. Our own guns soon opened a terrific fire, as previously remarked, and I venture to say that severer cannonading has never been heard on the American Continent than has been heard to-day.
Five o’clock p.m.
Our troops are now crossing the river. We can hear the loud hurrah and the tramp of men and horses on the bridges, and the heavy siege guns are booming terrifically as ever. Fredericksburg is ours!
By the end of the day on Dec. 11, the bridgeheads were secure, but it took all of the next day for Burnside to get his soldiers across. This occurred in full view of the Confederate army and gave Lee ample time to bring up reinforcements from downstream. As the fog lifted on the morning of Dec. 13, the Union forces were fully assembled in Fredericksburg and on the plains to the south. Franklin, issued vague orders by Burnside, sent in only two divisions on the Union left. They dented Jackson’s line, but then had to fall back for lack of support. Battery L, still detached, initially was engaged on the right of Franklin’s grand division, then returned to Doubleday’s division at the far left end of the Union line, dueling with Confederate artillery. Sumner, in the meantime, launched his attack at Federicksburg, brigade after brigade bravely charging up Marye’s Heights against a stone wall. Confederate infantrymen waited behind that wall, packed four deep, pouring in a furious rifle fire in addition to shot and shell from artillery lining the slopes. Union soldiers were mowed down by the thousands. Nobody reached the stone wall that day. But Burnside kept feeding more brigades into the meat grinder, hoping that Franklin might yet commit all of his troops and break through to the south. Franklin did not renew his attack, the slaughter in front of the stone wall continued until darkness, and the Army of the Potomac suffered one of its most devastating defeats…
Battlefield near Fredericksburg
Dec. 14th, Sunday Afternoon
With the exception of occasional cannonading and the firing of pickets or skirmishers, it is very quiet. Our friends at home, who, perhaps, as we now wish, are sitting quietly in some church listening to the peaceful doctrines and teachings of the Gospel, would say that it was very noisy, this cannonading and firing, did it occur in Rochester. They would not say so, however, if they had seen and heard what greeted our eyes and ears all yesterday. The papers told them of the terrible battle which took place yesterday near Fredericksburg. It was a desperate conflict, nearly equal to that of Antietam, but not attended with that loss of life which characterized the bloody battle of the 17th of September. There was less infantry firing – much less – than there was at Antietam, but the cannonading was greater, and, we think, more destructive. It lasted from half-past nine o’clock a.m. till seven or eight o’clock p.m. Towards night it was terribly severe on the rebel side. They poured a steady, raking fire into our lines.
Let me go back to the day previous (Dec. 12) and mention our crossing the Rappahannock. It was almost noon when we received orders to make our passage across the river. Thousands of troops were wending their way over the two pontoon bridges, and when we reached the opposite side, and ascended the banks, there was one of the most magnificent scenes ever presented to view. No picture could do it justice. A vast plain, with here and there a hill, was covered with troops, and, with the red pennons of a regiment of lancers fluttering in the breeze, and tens of thousands of bright bayonets glistening in the sun, with cavalry and artillery, the uniforms of officers and men, and then, too, the wooded hills in front covered with the enemy, all this was a sight grand beyond description. On the north bank of the river were our fortifications, frowning with cannon, and a long line of these destructive “engines of war” were planted in front of our infantry. The day was beautiful and the troops were in the best of spirits. We had no sooner crossed the river than we were complimented by secesh with a few shells, which hurried us to the front on a double quick, where we immediately went into battery and began firing. The action continued but a few minutes. We could readily discern our rebel friends manoeuvering with cavalry and artillery. In the evening they set fire to several large stacks of straw and burnt two or three buildings. For what purpose we do not know, unless to draw out our pickets by way of a ruse. The conflagration lighted up the heavens magnificently. Some thought this destruction of property meant retreat, but the idea was substantially dissipated yesterday. Our position was almost on the extreme right of the left grand division. Friday night passed without any firing of much consequence; but yesterday morning the ball opened most vigorously, and, as already remarked, continued so till long after dark.
The fighting commenced about the middle of the left wing, by our skirmishers, and it was not long before the enemy’s cannon were throwing shells in our lines. They came thicker and faster, and there was a general engagement of artillery on both sides. Our battery retained the position to which it was assigned the day previous, supported on our left by Col. Taylor’s (33rd N.Y.) brigade. (7) We opened fire and directed some effective shots. So did the rebels on us. Orderly Sergeant De Mott had a spur shot off by a piece of shell, and his leg was slightly bruised. Private Foster was hit on the shoulder by the fragment of a shell, and there were several close calls, but nothing serious happened. – We had fired an hour or two when we were ordered to report to our own division, (General Doubleday’s) which was on the left of the left wing, protecting any flank movement that might be made by the enemy. Thither we went; and after receiving a multitude of conflicting orders, directing the battery to take a certain position, and after taking it, getting our pieces unlimbered, and all ready to fire, instructed to take another position, which was repeated several times, under a scathing fire from rebel batteries. After doing this, we got to work again. And hot work it was, too, of the hottest and most lively description. How the shells did come – in front and all around us – tearing up the earth, cutting limbs of trees off, and doing serious and fatal execution among the infantry and batteries on our right and left. We replied as sharply as we could, but the rebels had choice of position, and it was difficult to get range of their guns. – Wonderfully exempt we were from casualties, and in all the fights in which we have participated, since entering the field, we have been favored, as a battery, in this respect. We have certainly been exposed to the dangers of the battle-field, as much, or almost as much, as any other battery in service; but a good Providence has greatly protected us from peril, and we have had but few killed and wounded. We were actively engaged most of the day, and under severe fire when taking our several positions, but only one serious casualty happened in the company. David Morrison, from Scottsville, was badly wounded in the side by a shell. The wound is likely to prove fatal. The axle tree of one of our gun carriages was broken by our own firing. We kept up a cannonading till it was so dark that the gunners could’nt see to get the range of their fires with accuracy, and orders came to fall back a short distance, as our lines were going to be drawn in. We did so, the infantry falling back at the same time. The rebels continued a most vigorous cannonading, however, long after batteries on our side had ceased. They seemed, however, to be trying to rake the field where our forces lay.
The result of yesterday’s engagement was – I am obliged to stop, to ask what it was. I know not what was accomplished by the center and right grand divisions, or whether they were particularly engaged in the contest. The left grand division made no advancement which they occupied at night. There was quite a heavy infantry engagement lasting about two hours during the day, and at one time our troops drove the rebel forces in so far as to take possession of some of their rifle pits, but it is said that in consequence of our men not being supported, as agreed upon, they were obliged to retire. There was ammunition enough fired away to make a decisive engagement on one side or the other, but it was a drawn affair as near as we could judge, with perhaps a slight preponderance in favor of the rebel army. We had a large number of killed and mangled by shells. The young and intrepid General (George D.) Bayard among the former, and General (Francis L.) Vinton among the latter. (8) Capt. (George A.) Gerrish, chief of artillery in Doubleday’s division, while riding over the field had his horse shot from under him, and he was wounded quite seriously. He had three men in his battery killed and eight wounded. Capt. Reynolds is now acting Chief of Artillery in the division.
The boys were fairly “used up” after yesterday’s hard labor and fighting, and we all sought rest on the ample couch, ever furnished free of expense to soldiers, the “cold earth.” Sleeping on a battle-field with the dead and wounded surrounding you, with picket firing going on, and with a probability of being aroused from your slumbers by the cry that the enemy is about to pounce upon you, or by the signal of a minie ball or cannon shell whistling by your ears, or whizzing over your head, is solemn’y romantic. But we slept very soundly last night and awoke quite fresh this morning.
There seems to be a suspension of hostilities to-day, perhaps out of respect to the Sabbath, though there has been considerable cannonading on our part, and there is a good deal of picket firing in progress.
A rebel cannon shot took effect in a mail bag belonging to a brigade in our division. The contents were quickly and promiscuously distributed, and letters and papers were circulated in abundance and without ceremony.
While writing this a flag of truce has been sent over to the rebel lines asking permission to bury our dead, killed in the severe infantry engagement which I mentioned. It was Gen. Meade’s division engaged, and it was badly cut up. We have been told that out of one regiment only twenty-five returned. The desired response to the flag of truce was given on condition that Jackson favored it. No reply has come from him yet. It appears from this that we have to deal with the able and wily “old Stonewall.” A formidable adversary he is to cope with, but we hope we have his match in General Franklin, who commands the left wing of our grand army. While a conference was going on about the flag of truce all picket firing ceased, and many soldiers of both armies took advantage of the peaceful period to have a chat with one another. Civilities were exchanged in the shape of tobacco and hard tack, the rebels giving the former for the latter, they being supplied bountifully with the “weed,” and our “boys” having an abundance of crackers. We have been told that there was considerable trafficking in the commodities of whisky and coffee, the rebs having plenty of the “ardent.”
A colonel of one of our regiments conversed with a Georgia captain, who remarked that our men fought well yesterday in their charge upon the Confederates; but they were too few in numbers to achieve what they set out to. This captain expressed a desire for peace, and this is the earnest wish on both sides, for which audible expression is given more strongly every day.
After the flag of truce had been withdrawn the pickets began firing at each other immediately. What is stranger than human nature? One minute men are engaged in mutual conversation, every way peaceable and agreeable, exchanging gifts, etc., and the next minute engaged in shooting at each other, intent on the destruction of human life.
The paymaster made his appearance last Friday, but a poor time to receive him now, in the midst of the din and carnage of the battle-field. Were the company to be paid now, the rebels might enjoy the benefit of a great many of government “green backs.” The paymaster has promised to wait a few days, until we are better prepared to appreciate his presence.
Monday, Noon, Nov. [Dec.] 15
It is a beautiful morning, bright and warm as a morning in May. There is a complete reaction in the weather. The last two or three nights have been quite mild, and the days sunny and very pleasant. Everything looks propitious for the success of our cause. Heintzelman, it is reported, has gone to our left, or down the river, with a large force of troops. Sigel is said to be operating far on the right. May Heaven bless our arms, and give us victory and peace.
As I write, another flag of truce is being sent out. In haste, G.B.
Burnside wanted to personally lead one last assault against those bloody slopes on the 14th, but was dissuaded. The Army of the Potomac pulled back across the river, with little to show for its efforts other than incredible valor by its soldiers. Some 12,600 of them had been killed, wounded or captured, compared to fewer than half that number for the Confederates.
In Camp Near Pollock’s Mills, Opposite Fredericksburg, Virginia
Dec. 18, 1862
(Appeared Wednesday, Dec. 24, 1862)
Dear Union: Another grand “skedaddle,” or ought we to use a more polite or rhetorical expression and call it another “masterly retreat.” Let us call it both. The soldiers pronounce it the former. They are good judges of the matter, as they were present and participated in the affair. They know what it means to “skedaddle” for they have learned it by experience. Nevertheless the recrossing of the Rappahannock on Monday night last (Dec. 15), was a “masterly retreat,” for the whole Army of the Potomac was brought over safely, quietly, orderly, not a straggler to our knowledge was left behind, though straggling under such circumstances is the exception in the army, not the rule. We have been told that men who thought themselves unable to walk, scarcely to move previous to the retreat marched off with all the sprightliness of youth when the army began to fall back. Such is the effect of escaping from danger, from an expectant shower of “leaden rain and iron hail,” to a place of safety and protection. Going to meet the enemy and coming away from the enemy are two different things.
We remarked, in a letter addressed to you Monday morning, that everything looked very favorable for a grand and successful advance of our army, and that another day would probably witness a renewal of the fight of Saturday. We had not heard what had transpired in the centre and right grand divisions of Burnside’s forces, but thought all had gone and was going on well. A rumor reached us that Hooker was repulsed in trying to storm the rebel intrenchments, but then it was contradicted by another report saying that the centre division had driven the enemy from his chosen and fortified position and occupied it. The second flag of truce sent out Monday morning resulted in granting us permission to bury our dead who were killed in the gallant charges made on Saturday. The bodies were brought across the railroad running just this side of the woods, which the rebels held, our forces not being allowed to pass over the track. Most every soldier’s feet were stripped of his shoes or boots, and the clothes, in many instances, had been taken, replaced in some cases with rebel uniforms, if their dirty, dingy and ragged clothes can be called such. While the armistice lasted there was a mutual exchange of civilities between the troops on both sides as on the previous day. There was a shaking of hands and an interchange of friendly words; tobacco and hard tack were given one for the other; and all this was followed, on withdrawing the flag of truce, by a renewal of picket firing, which was renewed apparently with more vigor than ever. Since then there has been another armistice, which expired at 12 o’clock this noon. Orders came a little while ago to be on the qui vive for any demonstrations that might be made on the part of the enemy, but everything has been quiet.
The retreat on Monday night took the army by surprise, for certainly nothing of the kind was anticipated. So far from it, that the remark had frequently been made during the day that if with our splendid army we could not whip the enemy and push on to Richmond, we might as well give the thing up and cease fighting. – Saturday’s partial repulse had by no means discouraged the troops, but they looked forward to a movement which would terminate in a triumphant victory for the Federal cause. They were not eager for the fray, or to use that played out phrase, “spoiling for a great fight;” for ever since the first Bull Run affair, soldiers have been practically taught that to fight means a great deal more than going forth as if on a grand parade to vanquish with ease and rapidity a sham or a puerile foe. Fighting now means everything that is desperate and bloody; it means all the carnage and horrors of war; it means widows, orphans bereaved; it means broken hearts and desolate homes; it means destruction and death. No, not “spoiling for a fight,” but ready to go forward at the command to do so, with war’s terrible weapons, and attack, with a patriot’s spirit and a martyr’s courage, their country’s foe and destroyer, and battle for union and peace. (9) The soldiers did not think that another day would find them again on the north side of the Rappahannock. The Division Generals did not think so before the setting of Monday’s sun. Scarcely, however, had the shades of Monday night gathered ‘round the vast plain where our troops lay, two or three lines deep and some two miles in length, before there began to be whisperings of a retreat among the division commanders and their staffs. Retreat! What, could not those frowning hills and dense woods in front of us be stormed and penetrated, or were those heights and forests naturally strong and advantageous for military defence and operations, rendered impregnably so by entrenchments, embrasures, rifle-pits and the like, which our earnest and desperate adversary had thrown up and constructed to foil and keep back our brave and numerous troops? We knew that the hills and woods were covered and filled with the enemy’s forces, and we knew from Saturday’s encounter what a work of death there would be in trying to gain possession of the enemy’s strongholds and fastnesses, but then we thought the work would be done, though at the cost of a “monstrous holocaust of human victims.” We were mistaken. Our Commander-in-Chief had determined that the noble army that had given him their esteem and confidence should not be unnecessarily sacrificed. He saw clearly the terrible cost of human life which it would require to drive the enemy from his first line of entrenchments, and then, too, with all this cost the work might not be accomplished. On our left the enemy had flanked us, and it is a wonder to your correspondent why the rebel army did not try to rout Franklin’s division. There must have been a lack of men or a want of “dash.” They had an enfilade fire upon us. Sunday they played into our midst on the left a tremendous fire from Whitworth guns, the most destructive field ordnance there is. (10) Had they opened vigorously in our front, there is no telling what might have been done. It was evident to Gen. Burnside that the best course to pursue was to withdraw his army over the Rappahannock, and so the retreat began and was conducted from beginning to end almost noiselessly, without a particle of panic, and by midnight the whole of the left grand division was safely across the river. The pontoon bridges were taken up, and scarcely a thing was left behind. There were a few bags of grain and a few boxes of “hard tack” left remaining, the latter out of charity’s sake, perhaps.
Our pickets were brought in after the army had crossed, and some of them were rowed over the river, the bridges having been removed. Fortunately the wind was in our favor, or we might have heard from our hostile brethren. I doubt their mistrusting our leaving, and they must have been astonished the next morning on finding that we had left, bag and baggage, for the north bank of the Rappahannock, and were ensconced, as Lieut. R. says, on the side nearest the bulwarks and fortifications of Washington.
Our battery was directed to take the same position we occupied before we crossed the river; and here we are, in the same spot, our pieces planted on the crest of the hill, nearly opposite that part of the plain where we were hotly engaged in Saturday’s contest.
Tuesday morning (Dec. 16) we could see the rebels, collected in various numbers, walking over the plain, picking up the “relics” our army had left; and we could hear them shout and halloo, much to their satisfaction, no doubt, but somewhat to our chagrin. We must confess that we experienced emotions of satisfaction too, at our escape from what might have proved a capture by rebel hands, or something worse.
We have said that the whole army was brought back safely. Alas! not all the army that went over with buoyant and hopeful spirits, on the sunny and beautiful Friday of last week. An official report comes to-day from division headquarters that over 16,000 were lost, in killed, wounded and missing, in the battles of Fredericksburg. What a sacrifice of human life is this! Thousands more of precious lives offered up to the god of war, laid beneath the bloody sod of the battlefield, or doomed to drag out the remainder of their existence with mangled bodies or maimed limbs, with health destroyed or incurable wounds. More homes made desolate, and another long list added to the a’ready indefinite catalogue of widows, orphans and bereaved. And what has been gained? No wonder the patriot begins to exclaim, with an emphasis never before uttered, “My country, my country, how long must this terrible sacrifice of human life continue! Is there no price but this which can be paid, consistent with right and honor, that will purchase thy preservation and perpetuate thy life, and bring, speedily bring Peace to all thy borders and broad domains?”
We hear it intimated that Burnside crossed the river against his wishes and better judgment, but there was a “pressure” brought to bear upon him, and he had to yield. What the programme now is, we in the field cannot divine. Winter quarters are the talk among soldiers, and perhaps they will be decided upon by the army. Of course all prospects of Gen. Burnside eating his christmas dinner in Richmond are vanished. Perhaps the newspaper prophets meant Christmas of 1863. Even that is not certain from present indications. But we will look on the bright side, and hope that the end isn’t so far off after all.
The young man, David Morrison, reported dangerously or fatally wounded in our company, is getting along better than was expected. He will probably recover.
A “Merry Christmas” to you and my readers. G.B.
Transcribed And Donated By Bob MarcotteTranscribed And Donated By Bob Marcotte
Robert E. Marcotte
Rochester, N.Y.
February 2005