The assault on Marye’s Hill was an equally fatal military mistake.  That the position could not be stormed, is proved by the result of the actual attempt.  It is doubtful if, in any battle ever fought by any troops, men displayed greater gallantry.  They rushed headlong, not only once, but thrice, into the focus of a frightful front and cross fire of artillery and small-arms, losing nearly half their numbers in a few minutes; the ground was littered with their dead, and yet the foremost had only been able to approach within sixty yards of the terrible stone wall in advance of the hill.  There they fell, throwing up their hands to indicate that they saw at last that the attempt to carry the hill was hopeless.

These comments seem justified by the circumstances, and are made with no intention of casting obloquy upon the commander who, displaying little ability, gave evidences of unfaltering courage.  He had urged his inability to handle so large an army, but the authorities had forced the command upon him; he had accepted it and done his best, and, like a brave soldier, determined to lead the final charge in person, dying, if necessary, at the head of his men.

General Lee has not escaped criticism any more than General Burnside.  The Southern people were naturally dissatisfied with the result—­the safe retreat of the Federal army—­and asked why they had not been attacked and captured or destroyed.  The London Times, at that period, and a military critic recently, in the same journal, declared that Lee had it in his power to crush General Burnside, “horse, foot, and dragoons,” and, from his failure to do so, argued his want of great generalship.  A full discussion of the question is left by the present writer to those better skilled than himself in military science.  It is proper, however, to insert here General Lee’s own explanation of his action: 

“The attack on the 13th,” he says, “had been so easily repulsed, and by so small a part of our army, that it was not supposed the enemy would limit his efforts to one attempt, which, in view of the magnitude of his preparations, and the extent of his force, seemed to be comparatively insignificant.  Believing, therefore, that he would attack us, it was not deemed expedient to lose the advantages of our position and expose the troops to the fire of his inaccessible batteries beyond the river, by advancing against him.  But we were necessarily ignorant of the extent to which he had suffered, and only became aware of it when, on the morning of the 16th, it was discovered that he had availed himself of the darkness of night, and the prevalence of a violent storm of wind and rain, to recross the river.”

This statement was no doubt framed by General Lee to meet the criticisms which the result of the battle occasioned.  In conversing with General Stuart on the subject, he added that he felt too great responsibility for the preservation of his troops to unnecessarily hazard them.  “No one knows,” he said, “how brittle an army is.”