McClellan organizing the grand Army.
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Provost guard, Washington. From a sketch made in 1862. |
No one has denied that
McClellan was a marvelous organizer.
Every veteran of the Army of the Potomac will be able to recall that extraordinary time when the people of the
North devoted all their native energy and spirit of initiative to the raising of enormous levies of future combatants and their military equipment, and when infantry battalions, squadrons of cavalry, and batteries of artillery sprung, as it were, from the earth in a night, and poured in from all sides upon the barren wastes of vacant building-lots that then went to the making up of fully three-quarters of the
Federal capital.
It was in the midst of this herculean task of organization that two French aides-de-camp were assigned to duty as military attaches on
McClellan's staff.
His brilliant operations in
Western Virginia against
Lee,--who had not yet revealed the full extent of his military genius, and whom
McClellan was destined to find again in his front but a year later,--the successes of
Laurel Hill and
Rich Mountain, gave evidence of what might be expected of the inexperienced troops placed in
McClellan's hands.
1 He had already shown rare strategic ability, and the
President had confided to him the task of creating the Army of the Potomac from the disorganized bands who had fallen back on
Washington under the brave and unfortunate
McDowell.
Surrounded for the most part by young officers, he was himself the most youthful of us all, not only by reason of his physical vigor, the vivacity of his impressions, the noble candor of his character, and his glowing patriotism, but also, I may add, by his inexperience of men. His military bearing breathed a spirit of frankness, benevolence, and firmness.
His look was piercing, his voice gentle, his temper equable, his word of command clear and definite.
His
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encouragement was most affectionate, his reprimand couched in terms of perfect politeness.
Discreet, as a military or political chief should be, he was slow in bestowing his confidence; but, once given, it was never withdrawn.
Himself perfectly loyal to his friends, he knew how to inspire others with an absolute devotion.
Unfortunately for himself,
McClellan succeeded too quickly and too soon to the command of the principal army of the republic.
His lieutenants were as new to the work as he — they had not been tested.
Public opinion in the army itself — a judge all the more relentless for the very reason that discipline gives it no opportunity to express itself — had as yet been able neither to pronounce on them, nor to ratify the preferences of the
general-in-chief.
Paradoxical as it may seem, would it not really have been better could
McClellan have received a check at first, as
Grant did at
Belmont, rather than to have begun with the brilliant campaign in
West Virginia which won for him the
sobriquet of “The young
Napoleon”?
Just at the time when I joined his staff the exacting confidence of the people and the
Government was laying on him an almost superhuman task.
In forging the puissant weapon which, later, snatched from his grasp, was destined, in the hands of the Great Hammerer, to bray the army of
Lee, he acquired an imperishable title to the gratitude of his compatriots.
He wrought, will it be said, for the glory of his successors?
No! He labored for his country, even as a private soldier who dies for her, with no thought of fame.
In order to give to his weapon every perfection, he soon learned to resist the impatient solicitations of both the people and the
Government.
At the end of September, 1861, while yet under the orders of
General Scott,
McClellan represented the ardent and impatient spirit of men chafing at the slowness of a chief whose faculties had been chilled by the infirmities of age.
Nevertheless,
McClellan's first care was to place the capital beyond all peradventure of being carried by sudden attack: on the one hand, for the sake of reassuring the inhabitants and the political organism within its limits; and, on the other, that the army might be at liberty to act independently when it should be called to the field, leaving a sufficient garrison only to secure the defense of the city.
He knew that an army tied up about a place it has to protect is virtually paralyzed.
The events of 1870 have only too fully confirmed this view.
An engineer of distinction,
McClellan himself devised in all its details the system of defensive works from
Alexandria to
Georgetown.
He gave his daily personal supervision to the execution of this work, alternating outdoor activity with office business.
Tireless in the saddle, he was equally indefatigable with the pen. Possessed of a methodical and exact mind, he comprehended the organization of his army in every minute detail.
The creation of all the material of war necessary to its existence and action was extraordinary proof of the wonderful readiness of the
Americans in an emergency. . .
But the season advanced.
The army was being formed.
At the end of September the enemy had fallen back on Fairfax Court House, leaving to us at Munson's Hill a few
Quaker guns of logs and pasteboard.
The time for action seemed to have come.
The rigors of winter in
Virginia hardly make
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themselves felt before the beginning of December.
By the 17th of October the enemy had again retreated.
The Army of the Potomac replied with a commensurate advance.
But this was a
faux pas. The blunder was consummated at Ball's Bluff [see p. 122].
McClellan's orders had been given in entire ignorance of the topography of the environs of Edwards's Ferry (all the maps being inexact) and of the force of the enemy in front of
Leesburg.
In fact, at that time the organization of the secret service was entirely insufficient to the occasion, in spite of the praiseworthy efforts of
Mr. Allen Pinkerton.
2 McClellan, who was established beyond
Dranesville with
McCall's division, believed himself to be within supporting distance of
Baker's brigade.
The latter was crushed on the 21st, before any one on the right bank of the
Potomac knew of his fate.
This disaster, of comparatively little moment by itself, led to the most acrimonious recriminations.
It proved, above all, how slight and imperfect were the connections between the head of the army and the parts he was called on to manoeuvre.
On that day a fatal hesitation took possession of
McClellan.
If he did not then decide to postpone the campaign till the following spring, his conduct of affairs was such as soon to leave him no alternative but recourse to this lamentable necessity.
Shortly thereafter a great change came over the military situation: a change which should have encouraged him to the promptest offensive action, but which, unfortunately for him, produced only a directly contrary result.
On the evening of November 1st the whole political world of
Washington was in a flutter of agitation.
It labored still under the effects of the displacement of
General Fremont, guilty of having intruded upon political ground by the issue of an abolitionist proclamation [see Vol.
I., p. 278]. The disgrace of “The Pathfinder,” so popular with the
Western Republicans, had caused some friction in Congress, and had provoked rejoicing among his numerous political enemies in the Army of the Potomac; and now it was learned that a measure of still graver importance had been forced on the
Government:
Scott had resigned his commission as commander-in-chief of the
Federal armies,
3 the natural inference being that
McClellan would be designated his successor.
Of great stature and of a martial figure,
General Scott
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Confederate works on Munson's Hill, as seen from the Union advance post at Bailey's Crossroads.
[see map, Vol.
I., P. 172.] from a sketch made in September, 1861. |
joined to his physical advantages rare military and diplomatic attainments.
He had known how to conquer
Mexico without suffering a check; he had been able to establish a government that would warrant evacuation of the country, capable of maintaining itself without extraneous assistance, and he had secured a treaty with leonine conditions for the
Americans.
But age had attacked him physically and mentally.
Obese and impotent, the brilliant
Scott was in 1861 but the shadow of his former self.
While recognizing the services rendered by him to the republic at the outbreak of the civil war, by his fidelity to the Stars and Stripes in spite of his Virginion origin, the young generals reproached him with paralyzing their ardor and interfering with their projects.
The President and his
Secretary of State,
Mr. Seward, who, through political habitude, was also a temporizer, regretted the resignation of
Scott, and augured ill of the youth and rashness of
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McClellan.
The latter, on the other hand, seemed to imagine that the withdrawal of the old warrior removed the last remaining obstacle to the realization of his vast strategic conceptions.
But, as is not seldom the case in the course of human events, both these expectations were mistaken.
In brief,
McClellan, once invested with supreme command, proved himself more of a temporizer than his predecessor, and, as will soon be seen, his premature promotion to this post was the cause of all his subsequent mortification and misfortune.
The next day (November 2d), at 4 o'clock in the morning, we were at his side, mounted, to accompany to the railway station the commander whose place
McClellan was about to occupy.
As we went along every one chatted about the matter, and sought to penetrate the future and to divine the fortunes and role of the young general in the terrible crisis through which the republic was passing.
It would have been easier to pierce the night and fog which enveloped us. An hour later
McClellan was at his office.
A new task of enormous proportions, whose difficulty he had not, perhaps, paused to contemplate, stared him in the face, and threatened him with destruction.
Without giving him the full rank enjoyed by
Scott, the
President had given him full command of the armies of the republic.
It should be said that he had the right to this position as the oldest major-general of the regular army.
In assuming his new function he did not give up his own personal and particular direction of the Army of the Potomac.
Here he was right; for he could neither have found any one to whom he might safely confide his own proper work of organization, nor could he have left the command of the first army of the republic without condemning himself to perpetual prison in the bureau at
Washington.
It must be admitted, however, that his two functions were incompatible.
As an old French proverb has it, “Qui trop embrasse, mal étreint.”
When, two years later,
Grant himself undertook to conduct the decisive campaign against
Richmond, at the same time continuing the direction in chief of all the armies of the
Union, he was not only surrounded by the aureole of his splendid victories and incontestable military authority, and not only had a cruel experience proved to the people the necessity for concentrating the military power in the hands of one man, but the different armies which he controlled were confided to approved chiefs whom he could trust with perfect liberty of action, while, in case of need, he might leave at the head of the Army of the Potomac the conqueror of
Gettysburg.
In Washington,
Halleck presided as chief of staff, reduced by
Grant to a subordinate function, it is true, but a function for which he possessed special aptitude.
The situation of
McClellan was different.
He perceived this on the day when, entering on the campaign, he placed himself at the head of the Army of the Potomac.
At first he was equal to the emergency by dint of incessant work; but he was obliged to renounce the daily routine which had served to maintain his relations with all his divisions, and had contributed to facilitate and hasten forward his schemes of organization.
McClellan, confined to his office, undertook the orderly and methodical concentration of the immense number
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of men enrolled in the service of the republic, in the formation of his armies, and in constructing a scheme for their concerted action.
General Halleck, but just then arrived in
Washington, was sent to the
West with extensive powers [see Vol.
I., p. 315].
McClellan assigned to him one of his best lieutenants,
General Buell [see Vol.
I., p. 385]. Finally, he prepared the great naval expeditions which should give to the
Federal arms
Port Royal,
Roanoke, and New Orleans.
Scarcel y had he begun the work when the fact was borne in on him that the armies of the
West were as regarded material, well prepared for the offensive than those of the
East, and as it seemed requisite that they should act together, it may be inferred that frome the first days of his assuming command, the scheme of postponing
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Mt. Olivet Church on the old Fairfax road — picket post of the 40th New York Volunteers.
From a sketch made in Sept., 1861. |
till spring the operations of the Army of the Potomac was explicitly determined on.
McClellan wisely concealed from every one this
resolution, the objections to which he understood better than any one.
But his soldiers were not slow to comprehend; often the crowd has sagacious instincts, and may divine the calculations of even the most wary statesman.
The army proved it in this case by constructing, with all the ready skill of American backwoodsmen, log-huts to protect them from the inclemencies of the season.
They did well.
When the snow and ice rendered military operations impossible, veritable pioneers' villages had grown up every where in the midst of the timber, and afforded the soldiers excellent shelter.
The army had coolly taken the liberty of going into winter quarters, without consulting anybody.
The complications of foreign politics contributed their share to restrain
McClellan, at a period when the season would yet have permitted him to act on the offensive.
It was the 16th of November when the news reached
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Washington of the incident afterward known as the
Trent affair [see p. 134]. . . . The capture of the
Confederate Commissioners on the high seas under a neutral flag, in flagrant violation of the law of nations,--a violation brutal in its method and useless in its results, most dangerous in its consequences,--was hailed by public opinion as a splendid victory for the Stars and Stripes. . . . Two men at
Washington comprehended from the first the danger to their country of the inconsiderate act of
Wilkes: these were
Seward and
McClellan.
The former, burdened with an immense responsibility, patriotically dissimulated his opinion with extraordinary
finesse; he permitted the excitement to spend itself, and, thanks to the slowness of communication with
England, gained time enough
4 to extricate his Government at the critical juncture, by enveloping the decision he had succeeded in extorting from “the powers that be” in a specious web of plausibilities, calculated to sweeten the bitterness caused at home by
England's exactions, and at the same time to satisfy her just demands.
He succeeded in sparing his country and the world the horrors of a war the results of which could hardly be imagined. . . .
It was not for
McClellan to implicate himself in questions of a purely political character, but he probably foresaw the consequences of a war in which
England, mistress of the seas, would have inundated the
Southern States with arms and munitions of war, with money and volunteers, blockading the
Federal ports, and in the spring making
Canada the base of operations for her regular army.
The States of the
North would have found themselves hemmed in along a vast line of boundary by two hostile powers, extending from the
Atlantic to the
Pacific.
McClellan's care, in view of such an emergency, 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
cortege, 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 projec ts.
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.
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Mr. Seward, having courageously ended the
Trent affair to the satisfaction of the public, now recovered from its first attack of folly, the only obstacle to be feared — the danger of a maritime war — was finally removed.
Burnside embarked at New York, during the early days of 1862, with the little army that should seize
Roanoke and march on the interior of
North Carolina [see Vol.
I., p. 632]. The troops destined for the attack on New Orleans were sent to
Ship Island in detail.
But an unusually severe winter followed.
While the naval expeditions intended to land troops on the coasts of the
Southern States might still have been fitted out, though the severe gales of the season would have subjected them to serious danger, deep snows and intense cold made movements on the part of the Army of the Potomac next to impossible.
Even had it been desirable to expose raw troops to the rigors of a winter campaign, it would have been impracticable to provision an advancing army, on account of the impassable condition of the roads.
This set
McClellan, as well as many of his subordinates, to thinking of transportation by water, down the
Western rivers, or through the deep estuaries of
Eastern Virginia.
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 definitively in his 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
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The North front of the War Department, Washington.
From a War-time photograph. |
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 debut 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 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. . . . But the immense flotilla which should transport it to
Urbana, near the mouth of the
Rappahannock [see map, p. 164], or to
Fort Monroe, another point of debarkation equally considered with the other, was not yet ready, and no one more than
McClellan regretted the delay.
It is well known that he was obliged to fight many objections in order to secure the adoption of his favorite plan.
He was obliged to exhibit the details of his projects before numerous councils of war, some of them political and some of them military, some of the members of which were, perhaps, not possessed of absolute discretion.
He was obliged to reassure and convince all those who feared lest
Washington should be left without sufficient protection.
He finally obtained the
Government's approval.
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
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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 south-east.
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 [see p. 167]. It was recalled to mind that on that very day,
McClellan, on going upon the 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
sang-froid 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 camp-fire.
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.
