Warren had about 20,000 men in readiness, and was to attack at 8 A.M. at a signal from the batteries of the centre. Sedgwick was to attack an hour later. The signal batteries opened, and we stood, in grand array, soberly withing for the order to charge. The enemy's strong works, with guns bristling in the morning sun, were in our immediate front. Minutes of delay were as hours to the waiting troops. Many sent up silent prayers for safety, and not unfrequently through the column there could be seen on a soldier's breast a paper giving his name, company, regiment, and home address, so, if killed, his body could be identified. Warren hesitated, and just before 9 A.M. dispatched Meade, then four miles distant:
"The full light of sun shows me that I cannot succeed."
Meade suspended Sedgwick's attack, then in progress, and hastened to Warren. I saw the two men at a small, green, pine wood fire, earnestly discussing the critical situation. Meade seemed to be censuring Warren, yet the latter adhered to his view that the assault could not be successfully made, and Meade yielded. Somehow the troops of the great column, before the final decision was announced, came to believe the charge would not be made, and they cautiously commenced badgering each other, soldier like, over wasted prayers. The different commands were later ordered to their former positions.
French opposed an assault on the centre. The enemy's position, naturally a strong one, had been greatly strengthened by labor. The wisdom of not making any assault, in the light of all the facts, was, I think, generally recognized. The season was unfavorable; Meade was a long distance from his base; success could only have been temporary and could not have been followed up, and defeat under the circumstances would have been a fatal catastrophe. Even Grant, in 1864, was "all summer" in trying to gather fruits of what were called successes.
The 1st of December was spent by both armies in watching each other, and behaving as if they dared each other to attack.
"One was afraid and the other dare not"—but which?
The campaign had been delayed beyond all expectation; all hope of gaining an advantage by a surprise or otherwise was passed, food was becoming scarce, and hence Meade decided to retire his army to its base of supplies. At dusk of the 1st, therefore, the Union Army moved by different roads to various fords of the Rapidan, the Third Corps to Culpeper Mine Ford, the farthest down the river of any used, and by 8 A.M. of the coming morning all had recrossed, and on the 3d they were in their former camps at Brandy Station. The Army of the Potomac lost in this campaign, killed and wounded, 1272.( 7)
Thus ended the Mine Run campaign; not bloodless, yet disappointing, as were many others. In it Meade demonstrated his willingness to fight, and that his army was loyal to him. Another opportunity to fight a great battle in independent command on the field never came to him. His chief glory for all time must rest on Gettysburg.
Lee, the night of December 1st, feeling certain Meade would not assault him in his strong position, and knowing the latter was far from his base, in an unfamiliar country, encumbered with trains, determined to assume the offensive by throwing two of his divisions against Meade's left on the following morning. But Meade was safely away when morning came, and pursuit impossible.
Lee, it is said, was greatly chagrined over his lost opportunity, and exclaimed to his generals: