And did any of the three wings mount a serious attack against what they found? Did Meade concentrate any of the three against one or more of the enemy forces and attack it? Did Meade, once concentrated, mount an attack at Williamsport?
The answers are, I believe, no.
Again, could he have done so with that Army, based on the previous 27 months of war? We don't know, but should have an attack been mounted? In terms of following up a beaten enemy, the answer - from a "best practice" sense if nothing else - has to be yes.
Best,
I don't know you, so I have no idea what efforts you've taken to study these events. Consequently, I'm simply going to ask: have you ever seen the ground that made up Lee's position at Williamsport? Have you seen Salisbury Ridge? Have you seen the entrenchments that Lee's engineers designed and his army constructed? Personally, I have been walking that ground for the better part of 20 years now, and I know that terrain like the back of my hand. I've written one well-regarded monograph on the retreat from Gettysburg (with two friends) and am now finishing a very lengthy discussion of these events for my Meade manuscript. It's fair to say that I know all of the sources AND I know the ground.
If you have not walked that ground, then, with all due respect, you have no idea what you're talking about. I will let those men who actually saw Lee's defensive works resolve this issue once and for all. I have extracted a small excerpt from the book project that I am completing:
The men of the Army of Northern Virginia were already confident of their success. "As we got things into shape, oh! How we all did wish that the enemy would come out in the open & attack us, as we had done them at Gettysburg," declared Lt. Col. Edward Porter Alexander, who was the acting chief of artillery for Longstreet's First Corps. "Our troops are drawn up in a line of battle on a splendid range of hills," declared a supremely confident Virginia artillerist, "and as we have received a large supply of ammunition, I think we will give the enemy a big whipping, notwithstanding the large superiority of their numbers. Everything seems to indicate a large battle in which it is necessary that we should prove victorious, as our rations are running low with but little chance of getting more, until we take them from the enemy." Make no mistake about it: the Army of Northern Virginia was just as full of fighting spirit as it had ever been, and it was itching for Meade to attack it in such a dominating defensive position of its own choosing.
Most importantly, the defensive position chosen and developed by Lee and his engineers was formidable. It ran along Salisbury Ridge, a prominent north-south ridge, and was anchored on the banks of the Potomac River on either end, meaning that it could not be flanked. While there were some low spots where creeks or marshy ground lay, the Confederate engineering staff built in interlocking fields of fire to ensure that these positions were defensible. The position featured a compact line of battle, with a complete road network with lines of retreat, supply, and communication behind it that allowed resources to be shifted to meet threats. The line bristled with artillery. In short, the strong defensive position atop Salisbury Ridge made the Confederate position on Marye's Heights at Fredericksburg seem like a poor choice by comparison.
"The Rebel lines crossed the road from St. James' College to Williamsport, near a large white house, about half a mile (south?) west of the college. The country occupied by the Rebels is undoubtedly very strongly defensible," wrote John Watts DePeyster. "As a military position it is superior to Antietam or Sharpsburg. The latter is, for this country, comparatively clear and rolling rather than strictly hilly. The position assumed by the Rebels in July 1863 is broken, rocky, marshy, and densely wooded in many places. The district occupied by Lee is known as the 'marsh land,' and is said to extend northward to the Pennsylvania line. In this neighborhood, a little to the north of the college, it is drained by Marsh Run, a little stream which crosses the Sharpsburg Pike about a mile south of Hagerstown, while another Marsh Creek finds its way into the Potomac, south-southeast of Williamsport, between Foreman's Ford and Mercerville."
"The greatest part of it was on top of a range of hills on the left bank of Marsh Run, a small creek which flows through a swampy valley into the Potomac," described a clergyman assigned to St. James College, a private boys' school located in the middle of Lee's line. "On the right bank of the creek is a similar range of hills, nearly parallel, but somewhat lower, than the first. There the main army was entrenched. The hills are gently sloping down to the creek, the distance between them varies from one to two miles, and the space between them is almost an entirely open field. The attacking party would have been from the first moment, when they left their entrenchments, exposed to the artillery and musketry fire, of a well-protected and concealed enemy. The key of the rebel position was, according to their own statements, a prominent hill on the farm of John L. Roland, about three-fourths of a mile behind the College of St. James. The rebels had, of course, strong batteries, on top of it and in the neighborhood. The College itself was held as a kind of a out-post and strongly occupied by sharp-shooters." This position was well chosen, well designed, and formidable. There is no other way to describe it.
The breastworks consisted of two parallel lines of trenches. The front line was apparently fairly weak and was positioned along the forward slopes of the ridge. It consisted of trenches with forward bastions made of packed earth and wheat sheaves covered by dirt, built up along a long ditch. Near the crest of the ridgeline lay the main line of works, constructed of fence rails, rocks, and packed earth, prompting one observer to call it a "very strong line of gopher holes and rifle pits."
Indeed, the men of the Army of the Potomac remembered the debacle at Fredericksburg seven months earlier, and they had little stomach for a repeat, or to attack such a strong position anchored on commanding high ground. "It was thought not to risk a battle here as we have not over 50,000 efficient troops and the enemy to be equal to that if not more, with advantage of position and troops concentrated," said a Union signalman. Nevertheless, Meade was confident. Normally reticent around reporters, he was positively giddy on the night of July 13. "We shall have a great battle tomorrow," he declared to a reporter. "The reinforcements are coming up, and as soon as they come we shall pitch in."
Despite their commander's confidence, the men in the ranks who would have to make that assault had every reason to be concerned. The Confederate defensive position was formidable. Referring to the long line of earthworks in front of them, Col. Charles Wainwright, the chief of artillery for the I Corps, said, "These were by far the strongest I have seen yet, evidently laid out by engineers and built as if they meant to stand a month's siege." The parapets were nearly six feet wide on top, and the engineers had placed their guns perfectly to create converging fields of fire that could sweep the entire front of the position. After inspecting the position, Wainwright concluded, "My own opinion is under the circumstances and with the knowledge General Meade then had he was justified in putting off the attack."
Humphreys, who had spent thirty years as a topographical engineer and knew a strong position when he saw one, declared, "Wherever seen, the position was naturally strong, and was perfectly entrenched. It presented no vulnerable points, but much of it was concealed from view…its flanks were secure and could not be turned." He concluded, "A careful survey of the entrenched position of the enemy was made, and showed that an assault upon it would have resulted disastrously to us." He also observed, "On the other hand, General Burnside was severely criticized for attacking at Fredericksburg, where the entrenchments were not as formidable than those at Williamsport."
Brig. Gen. Henry J. Hunt, the Army of the Potomac's highly respected chief of artillery, echoed a similar note. "A careful survey of the enemy's entrenched line after it was abandoned justified the opinion of the corps commanders against the attack, as it showed that an assault would have been disastrous to us. It proved also that Meade in overriding their opinion did not shrink from a great responsibility, notwithstanding his own recent experience at Gettysburg where all the enemy's attacks on even partially entrenched lines had failed. If he erred on this occasion it was on the side of temerity." As one former Fifth Corps staff officer correctly put it, "One thing we do know, in our long association with Gen. Meade, we always found him to be a careful, cautious commander, who never would consent to the useless sacrifice of his soldiers in battle." A similar situation played out a few months later at Mine Run, where Meade again made the correct choice not to assault Lee's very strong defensive works.
Lt. Col. Rufus Dawes, commander of the 6th Wisconsin of the First Corps, examined Lee's fortifications and found them "strong and well constructed." With that in mind, he declared, "I think General Meade would have certainly failed to carry them by direct assault. I take no stock in the stuff printed in the newspapers about the demoralization of the rebel army after Gettysburg. They were worn out and tired as we were, but their cartridge boxes had plenty of ammunition, and they would quietly have lain in their rifle pits and shot us down with the same coolness and desperation they showed at Gettysburg." Dawes, a well-respected combat leader who fought in most of the heaviest battles of the Civil War, did not lack courage. He was known for his fearlessness, and his opinion must carry weight as such.
Lieutenant Haskell, who, as noted previously, was a remarkably astute observer for a young, junior officer, believed that an assault on Lee's works "would have been repulsed with heavy loss, with little damage to the enemy." He believed that the vote of the council of war on July 12 reflected the belief of the commanders agreed with his own opinion. "Such a result might have satisfied the bloody politicians better than the end of the campaign as it was; but I think the country did not need the sacrifice of the Army of the Potomac at that time,--enough odor of sacrifice came up to its nostrils from the 1st Fredericksburg field, to stop their snuffling for some time." He stated, "I felt the probability of defeat strongly at the time, when we all supposed that a conflict would certainly ensue." Haskell concluded, "Of course the army, both officers, and men, had very great disappointment, and very great sorrow, that the Rebels
escaped—so it was called—across the river;--the disappointment was genuine, at least to the extent that disappointment is like surprise; but the sorrow, to judge by looks, tones, and actions, rather than by words, was not of that deep, sable character, for which there is no balm. Would it be an imputation upon the courage or patriotism of this army, if it was not rampant for fight at this particular time, and under the existing circumstances? Had the enemy stayed upon the left bank of the Potomac twelve hours longer, there would have been a great battle there near Williamsport on the 14th of July." However, the outcome of that great battle would have been uncertain for the reasons stated by Haskell.
Again, and with all due respect, I will take the words of those who were there and saw those works with their own eyes as the word on this subject.