Mrs. Burnside went from Washington with President Lincoln and Secretary Stanton to Acquia Creek, on the 26th of November, and returned with them on the 28th, accompanied by the general. During the two days that they were in camp there was a severe rain-storm, which rendered the roads almost impassable. General Burnside made energetic remonstrances to President Lincoln about. the delay in the receipt of the pontoon-train, which had just begun to arrive, each boat being drawn on wheels by eight mules. Meanwhile, the Confederates had thrown up batteries commanding the spaces where bridges could be laid across the river, and their earth-works began to be visible on the crest of the ridges around the old town of Fredericksburg. It was very evident that General Lee was concentrating his forces, and preparing for a desperate resistance against any attempt to cross the Rappahannock, or to advance towards Richmond. The Confederate forces had been badly shattered by the unsuccessful invasion of Maryland, and their commander evidently wished to recuperate, protected by the earth-works around Fredericksburg, with a railroad running to Richmond as a base of supplies.

Returning to Washington with the President and Mrs. Burnside, the general discussed the situation with the administration and the leading bureau officers at the War Department. Prudence counseled his going into winter quarters, but the President and all others in authority urged an active, vigorous campaign against Richmond. General Burnside, like a true soldier, determined to carry out the wishes of the President, to advance southward steadily, slowly perhaps, but unflinchingly. His practical, tireless temperament inspired him, when he returned to his command, with a determination to fight his way southward.

He went everywhere through his camps with a bright, quiet, creative energy, "still achieving, still pursuing." New tents, winter clothing, and thick boots were supplied to all the men, and every preparation was made for crossing the river in the face of the enemy.

On the night of the 10th of December, the engineer corps was ordered to lay three pontoon bridges across the Rappahannock, upon which the army was to cross, occupy Fredericksburg, and carry the fortifications on the hills by assault. A dense fog filled the valley and hung over the river. The three lower bridges were laid by eleven o'clock in the morning, and General Franklin reported to General Burnside that he was ready to cross with his command. The three upper bridges could not, however, be laid, owing to the enemy's sharp-shooters, who poured in a merciless fire, and General Woodbury was compelled to report to the commanding general that the bridges could not be built. "They must be built," replied General Burnside, "try again."

The engineers returned to their work, but it was impossible for them to finish it, and when the fog lifted at noon, the fire of the rebel sharp-shooters became more deadly. Going down to the river bank, General Burnside saw the situation, and called for volunteers to cross the river in pontoon boats, drive the riflemen from their entrenchments, and hold the town until the bridges should be laid. Soldiers from the Seventh Michigan and Nineteenth and Twentieth Massachusetts regiments sprang forward with alacrity, and they were rowed across the river by men of the Fiftieth New York. A desperate conflict took place as they landed, but they soon secured the surviving Confederate riflemen as prisoners of war, and the engineers were enabled to finish the bridges. It was four o'clock in the

afternoon, however, before the troops began to cross, and the next day was occupied in moving over the army.

That night a council of war, attended by the grand division, corps, and division commanders, was held at a late hour at General Sumner's headquarters. General Burnside submitted and explained his plan for the general attack he proposed to make the next day. This plan comprised a simultaneous advance of the Union line upon the enemy's entrenched position on the hills in front of the left and right grand divisions, which were to be carried by sudden assaults of select bodies of troops. It was in keeping with the will, boldness, and frankness of its author, but some doubts of its practicability were expressed in the council by a number of those in attendance. All, however, expressed their readiness to undertake anything ordered by General Burnside, and the necessary instructions were given to commence a general movement upon the enemy with daylight.

It was nine o'clock in the morning of Dec. 13, 1862, before the troops commenced their march, and as they ascended the heights, they soon found themselves exposed to a terrible fire with grape and canister, and an enfilading fire from round shot and shell on their right and left. Below the batteries, too, were stone fences and riflepits, behind and in which the Confederates lay concealed until the Union troops, who had been ordered to charge bayonets and not to fire until they reached the entrenchments, had approached within a few feet of them. Rising then, in one long, dense line, with a rebel yell that was heard above their musketry, they poured volley after volley into the leading troops. Regiment after regiment wavered, halted, fell back, and again advanced, only to meet with the same desperate resistance.

General Palfrey, who was in the battle, has truly said that only those who participated in the contest know how much and how little they heard. "They remember how the smoke, and the woods, and the inequalities of ground limited their vision when they had leisure to look about them, and how every faculty was absorbed in their work when they were actively engaged; how the deafening noise made it almost impossible to hear orders; what ghastly sights they saw, as men and horses near them were torn with shell; how peacefully the men sank to rest whom the more merciful rifle-bullet reached in a vital spot; how some wounded men shrieked, and others lay quiet; how awful was the sound of the projectiles when they were near hostile batteries; how incessant was the singing and whistling of the balls from rifles and muskets; how little they commonly knew of what was going on a hundred yards to their right or left. Orderly advances of bodies of men may be easily described and easily imagined, but pictures of real fighting are and must be imperfect. Participants in real fighting know how limited and fragmentary and confused are their recollections of work after it became hot. The larger the force engaged, the more impossible it is to give an accurate presentation of its experiences. We can follow the charge of the six hundred at Balaklava, from which less than one in three came back unharmed, better than we can follow the advance of Hancock's five thousand at Fredericksburg, from which not quite three in five came back unharmed."

General Humphreys thus describes his attempt to lead Tyler's brigade through several demoralized masses of Union troops to the wall which was defended: "As the brigade reached the men who were sheltered behind a slight rise of ground, every effort was made by the latter