This is the sixth and final part in a series on the recent Central Virginia Battlefield Trust spring seminar: The Road to Fredericksburg
The summer and fall of 1862 marked a sea change in the conduct and goals of the American Civil War, and all of the actions in the field and the halls of power, North and South, would lead inexorably to the colonial town of Fredericksburg, Virginia. Frank O’Reilly has spent a National Park Service career at Fredericksburg, and has written the definitive history of the December 
1862 battle on the ridges west of town and fields to the south. There are few who are imbued with more knowledge of the campaigns in the area and events leading to them. It is no wonder, then, that O’Reilly identifies the November transition of command in the Army of the Potomac as the crisis moment in the history of the Republic.
The Second Confiscation Act in July and, more significantly, the preliminary Emancipation Proclamation in September, changed everything. No longer was the war simply a struggle between armies; rather, it now expanded to include all peoples and their cultures. No one was more of a threat to the changing vision articulated by Abraham Lincoln than his principal army commander, George McClellan.
From the outset in 1861, Little Mac was intent on ending rebellion and restoring the status quo of the antebellum United States. A revolutionary he was not, but the Emancipation Proclamation was a revolutionary document that sought to remake the country. The Proclamation, though, would have to be enforced, and the only thing that could accomplish that was the army. McClellan’s army.
Following the battle of Antietam in September, Union armies everywhere were on the move. Except in Virginia. Although McClellan was a scant two miles from the Potomac River, he would not effect a crossing until more than a month after the preliminary Proclamation was issued. The document itself was, of course, reviled in the South; however, it was never wildly popular in the North, either. With 1862 being a federal election year, the fate of the war, Lincoln’s Proclamation and, arguably, the nation itself was focused on the Army of the Potomac. McClellan’s army.
By the time McClellan finally crossed the Potomac in late October, the campaigning season was drawing to a close both for the army and electoral politics. Winter camps were but a few weeks off, and the polls were just days away. Still, McClellan looked cautiously toward the prize of Richmond, and his cavalry engaged in a number of scraps with J.E.B. Stuart’s horsemen in the Loudon Valley. These skirmishes were enough to alert Robert E. Lee to a potential danger, and he responded by moving James Longstreet’s newly-established First Corps of the Army of Northern Virginia into a blocking position.
The federal soldiers remained close to their logistical supply artery, the Orange & Alexandria Railroad. There were two problems with this dependency, however. First, the railroad could reliably deliver between 700-800 tons of supplies on a daily basis, but the army required closer to 1,500 tons. More significantly, though, the line ran from northeast to southwest through a country infested by rebel guerillas, and it simply did not go in the direction Lincoln wanted: Richmond.
As October melted into November, McClellan did look at an alternative supply line: the eponymously named Richmond, Fredericksburg & Petersburg Railroad. He had even sent a cavalry expedition to Fredericksburg to see if any Confederates were about, and determined they numbered no more than 800 under arms. At the same time, Ninth Corps commander Ambrose Burnside also pointed out the possibilities of an end run through Fredericksburg.
On November 6th, McClellan asked the War Department to assemble a pontoon train at Alexandria that he would need for his move south. Time had run out for George McClellan, though, as that same day a Department messenger arrived at Army of the Potomac headquarters bearing two orders that would pose an existential crisis not only to the army, but the the nation itself.
The first order relieved Little Mac of his command, while the second assigned it to Burnside. Already offered command twice before and having declined it, this order did not leave Burnside any options. The War Department messenger met with Burnside first, and “Burn” was in a fix. He and McClellan were old friends, but, he was told that if he refused the command, it would go to his arch-nemesis, Joe Hooker. Although nothing in the written orders suggested Hooker as an alternative, this must have been either a verbal instruction provided to the messenger or, possibly, a spur-of-the-moment bluff to put some steel in Burnside’s backbone. That settled it, and they were off to see McClellan.
By the time they arrived, Little Mac had some intimation that something was amiss. He had learned of a War Department messenger in camp a few hours earlier, but was only now meeting him. When he read the order, there was a moment of uncertainty. Mac and Burn spent a few minutes alone together. When they stepped out of the tent, McClellan asked if he could stay for a few days “to acclimate General Burnside to the condition of the army.”
This was a dangerous development. The army’s love for McClellan was well-known, and now there would be two commanders on the scene. Anything could happen with 135,000 armed men. Would the command transfer be peaceful? Would McClellan refuse to step down? How would the army react to the news?
In the end, and to his credit, McClellan was not a revolutionary. Leading his army against the elected administration was not in his nature any more than being the agent for the societal change heralded by the Second Confiscation Act or Lincoln’s Emancipation Proclamation. The crisis moment had passed as McClellan left the army never to return.
But, what of Burnside. Neither popular with the public or even his soldiers, the Army of the Potomac was now his to command. Before he had a chance to take full stock of his situation, Washington was already asking, “what is your plan?” Fortunately, Burnside had one, the same he had suggested to McClellan and which was starting to gel when the change in command took place: Fredericksburg. Not to Fredericksburg, but through Fredericksburg enroute to Richmond.
Lincoln had his doubts. On November 12th, General-in-Chief Henry Halleck and an array of generals arrived at Burnside’s headquarters to confer. Halleck and company preferred a direct assault on the position then held by Longstreet in an effort to defeat the Army of Northern Virginia in detail before Stonewall Jackson’s corps could join them. Burnside and his commanders argued for the end run to Richmond through Fredericksburg.
In the end, it was Halleck’s own team that lost the debate. General Herman Haupt had accompanied Halleck to the conference, and when asked for his views they were decidedly opposite those of his boss. Haupt, the railroad expert, opined the Orange & Alexandria Railroad was a disaster that could not be maintained, its rolling stock was worn and there was no way it could support more than 100,000 soldiers on campaign. The RF&P, though, was in fine shape and could easily meet the logistical needs of the Army of the Potomac. With that, a deflated Halleck returned to Washington.
On November 14th, President Lincoln approved Burnside’s plan, but noted he would need to move quickly. Indeed, Burnside was in motion in less than 24 hours, but his inquiry about the pontoons that McClellan had requested and which was discussed during his conference with Halleck two days before was met with foreboding silence from the War Department.
On the other side of the lines, Robert E. Lee was uncertain just what his adversary was doing. Burnside had disappeared from Longstreet’s front, and Fredericksburg seemed an unlikely destination. In fact, Lee had serious thoughts that Burnside was actually withdrawing in preparation for going into winter quarters. Marse Robert was quite surprised when he learned Burnside had appeared on the banks of the Rappahannock River at Falmouth, across from Fredericksburg, on November 17th. Considering the town lost, Lee directed his army to the next defensible position between Fredericksburg and Richmond along the North Anna River.
There at Falmouth the inspiring start to the move through Fredericksburg came to an abrupt end. The pontoons Burnside (and McClellan) had requested were not there, were not immediately forthcoming, and “Burn” did not have it in himself to overcome, adapt or improvise a new plan. So, he sat at Falmouth and waited. And waited. In so doing, he sacrificed the momentum and initiative he had built and handed it over to Lee, never a wise thing to do. The result was the “road” that had begun during the summer would finally come to Fredericksburg.
The December 13th battle would be a dismal defeat for the federal army and would forever mark Burnside as a man who had turned down the command twice because he felt he was unqualified only to take it the third time and prove it. But, the revolutionary change in the conduct of the War was already too far along to stop; the Second Confiscation Act, the preliminary Emancipation Proclamation and the Republican victories in the fall elections had assured that. And, the greatest crisis in that nation’s history had been averted when George McClellan relinquished command of the Army of the Potomac to poor “Burn” who felt (and would continue to feel) dreadfully.
Beginning Soon: “Our Flags Were Tattered…” The Maryland Campaign. A review of the programs presented during the Andrew Carnegie Free Library & Music Hall Civil War Symposium
