road travel, McClellan adopted in war the sedate tactics of the mud turtle.
He certainly did seem to have a penchant for mud, Peninsula mud, Chickahominy mud, James River mud-any sort of mud; but he was too much of a gentleman to sling any of it, even at us rebels.
The only point of the march down at which we were made to hurry was the only one at which we would have demurred to doing so if it would have done any good, and that was Richmond, where, as I remember, we arrived about the 10th of April, and left by steamer down James River a day or two later.
I remember, too, that as the boat left the shouting thousands on the shore and swept out into the stream our glee club burst into the rollicking stanzas of Mynheer von Dunck --a song as good in verse and in music as it is bad in morals:
Mynheer von Dunck, Though he never got drunk, Sipped brandy and water gaily; And he quenched his thirst With two quarts of the first To a pint of the latter, daily.
Water well mingled with s