THE NORTH FRONT OF THE WAR DEPARTMENT, WASHINGTON. From a war-time photograph.
McClellan, on going upon tlie floor of the House of Representatives, had been greeted by a triple salvo of applause, a demonstration flattering enough, but damaging to a general, whose functions forbid even the suspicion of political partisanship. The measure in question was inept, since it virtually restricted McClellan within the Department of the Potomac, excluding West Virginia, then assigned to Fremont. The measure was especially disastrous in suppressing all general direction of military operations, and disintegrating the ensemble. It had been decided that Scott was too superannuated to attend to this general direction; it was not for the purpose of abolishing it entirely that command had been confided to younger and more energetic hands. Unfortunately, at this moment Mr. Lincoln had the weakness to think that he himself could effectively exercise the supreme control, assigned him in form, it is true, by a figment of the national Constitution. As for McClellan, the President's decision was mortifying in its method, Lincoln having delayed its promulgation till after the departure of his general, and having left it to be communicated to the latter by the daily papers. Yet McClellan would have consoled himself, had not this measure been followed by others still more harassing, and of a nature to completely cripple intelligent action. But he was relieved of an immense responsibility; he was left at the head of an army eager to follow his lead, eager for battle, and confident of victory under his orders. He alone seemed to preserve his sangfroid in the midst of officers of all grades who flocked to his headquarters at Fairfax Court House as the news spread rapidly from camp-fire to campfire. Among these officers were stanch supporters, secret foes, those jealous of his fame, would-be worshipers of the rising sun, and, last but not least, indiscreet and compromising friends. In this evil hour McClellan felt how sternly patriotic duty demanded of him that he should hide the mortification he felt at this wound to his feelings as an officer and a man. He sought for consolation only in the sympathy and confidence of his soldiers.
confidence of the Army of the Potomac was redoubled. The general was now restored to health. The weather had moderated. The time had at last come for this army to act. . . .
At the very moment when all seemed ready for the realization of his grand design, two unforeseen circumstances arose to thwart the calculations of McClellan. The first was the sudden evacuation of Manassas by the Confederates. I do not believe that this could be attributed to indiscretions following the councils of war at Washington. I prefer, rather, to ascribe it to the military sagacity of the great soldier who then commanded the Army of Northern Virginia. His positions at Manassas were protected only by the snow and ice which paralyzed the Federals. With the opening of the season he would be obliged to withdraw behind the Rappahannock. This movement brought the Southern army nearer to Richmond, at the same time placing it on the Urbana route, thus making a landing there impossible for us, and permitting Lee to anticipate McClellan on the Virginia peninsula. McClellan would not give up his plan of approaching Richmond from the southeast. Fort Monroe, occupied by the Federals, was chosen as the new point of debarkation, and the pursuit of the enemy on the road from Manassas to Fredericksburg had no other object than to deceive him as to the intentions of the Federals. The army, after having feigned pursuit, was ordered to concentrate near Alexandria, the rendezvous of the grand flotilla which McClellan awaited with so much impatience.
But on the 12th of March another unexpected event again caused consternation among the officers of the staff. The indefatigable newsdealers, who followed the army almost to the very line of battle, had brought papers from Washington, in which we read a decree [“President’s War Order No. 3”], dated March 11th, in effect relieving McClellan from the direction in chief of the armies of the United States, the pretext being that McClellan had not taken the field on the 22d of February. It was recalled to mind that on that very day,
name. McClellan had made the mistake of not creating a general field-staff service, with a duly appointed chief of staff. This might have aided him in securing a consistent ensemble of military operations. . . . On his return to the duties of his office [January 13], he realized that during his absence important changes had been arranged. On the 15th of January, Mr. Cameron was superseded by Mr. Stanton, a celebrated lawyer, who was spoken of as one of the coming men of the Democratic party. McClellan, who knew and appreciated him, had, before his illness, contributed materially to Stanton’s nomination by recommending him earnestly to the President. But he was not slow to regret this. Mr. Stanton, endowed with a remarkable faculty for work, rendered incontestable service in the organization of the armies ; but, fearing the growing importance of those who commanded them, and wishing to impose his authority, he was instrumental, more than any one else, in developing in Mr. Lincoln’s mind the idea of directing military operations in person, from the depths of the White House itself. The personal intervention of the President, provoked by the inconsiderate impatience of the public and the precipitate solicitations of McClellan’s political adversaries, first declared itself in a singular order, kept a secret as regards the public at the time, but given to the press on March 11th. This order [“President’s General War Order No. 1”], dated the 27th of January, directed all the armies of the republic to take the field on the same day, that is, on the 22d of February, in honor of Washington’s birthday ! In the West, where the rivers were open, everything was in readiness. Moreover, the order of the President was not necessary to warrant Grant, already under orders from McClellan, in beginning the campaign, and Grant anticipated that order. His début was as a lightning-stroke. His victory at Fort Donelson, followed by the capitulation of 15,000 Confederates, was the return for Bull Run. The impression created throughout the whole army was profound. The Federal volunteers took heart again. The
McClellan’s care .	.	. was to perfect and
strengthen his army ; but, above all, not to compromise the safety of his forces by any attempt at operations on the other side of the Potomac. Grand reviews established, to the satisfaction of the inexperienced, the fact of progress in the equipment, instruction, and drill of the troops. At Bailey’s Cross-roads might have been seen a rendezvous of 50,000 men, with all the paraphernalia of a campaign, a large number of cavalry, and a formidable array of artillery. No such spectacle had ever been seen in the United States ; the novelty of the display caused the liveliest interest among the inhabitants of Washington. But to a European, not the least curious part of the pageant was the President, with his entire Cabinet, in citizens’ dress, boldly caracoling at the head of a brilliant military cortège, and riding down the long lines of troops to the rattle of drums, the flourish of trumpets, and the loud huzzas of the whole army. While his aides-de-camp were engaged in the field, McClellan worked ceaselessly with the Secretaries of War and of the Navy, Simon Cameron and Gideon Welles, preparing great expeditions, half military and half naval, that should plant the national flag on the principal points of the enemy’s coast, and secure convenient bases for future operations. The success won at Port Royal encouraged the Federal Government in these projects. McClellan himself had brought back from the Crimea a personal experience which enabled him, better than any one else, to preside over the details of preparation.
One day, I think it was the 20th of December, General McClellan, ordinarily so assiduous, did not appear at headquarters. The next day it was learned that he was ill. Three days later his life was in danger. Exhausted with work, his robust physique was seized with a typhoid of the most serious type. . . . His absence paralyzed work at headquarters. He had not regularly delegated his powers. His father-in-law and chief of staff, General Marcy, did not dare to act definitely in his