MCCLELLAN AND POLITICS--HIS REMOVAL AND ITS CAUSE
Meeting Colonel Key--His changes of opinion--His relations to
McClellan--Governor Dennison's influence--McClellan's attitude
toward Lincoln--Burnside's position--The Harrison Landing
letter--Compared with Lincoln's views--Probable intent of the
letter--Incident at McClellan's headquarters--John W.
Garrett--Emancipation Proclamation--An after-dinner discussion of
it--Contrary influences--Frank advice--Burnside and John
Cochrane--General Order 163--Lincoln's visit to camp--Riding the
field--A review--Lincoln's desire for continuing the
campaign--McClellan's hesitation--His tactics of discussion--His
exaggeration of difficulties--Effect on his army--Disillusion a slow
process--Lee's army not better than Johnston's--Work done by our
Western army--Difference in morale--An army rarely bolder than its
leader--Correspondence between Halleck and McClellan--Lincoln's
remarkable letter on the campaign--The army moves on November 2--Lee
regains the line covering Richmond--McClellan relieved--Burnside in
command.
When I rode up with Burnside on the afternoon of the 15th September,
in the group around McClellan I met Judge Key, whom I had not seen
since we parted in the Ohio Senate in April of the preceding year.
He was now aide-de-camp on the headquarters staff with the rank of
colonel, and doing duty also as judge-advocate. When McClellan
directed us to leave the ridge because the display of numbers
attracted the enemy's fire, Colonel Key took my arm and we walked a
little way down the slope till we found a fallen tree, on which we
sat down, whilst he plunged eagerly into the history of his own
opinions since we had discussed the causes of the war in the
legislature of our State. He told me with earnestness that he had
greatly modified his views on the subject of slavery, and he was now
satisfied that the war must end in its abolition. The system was so
plainly the soul of the rebellion and the tie which bound the
seceded States together, that its existence must necessarily depend
upon the success of the revolutionary movement, and it would be a
fair object of attack, if doing so would help our cause. I was
struck by the zeal with which he dashed into the discussion,
forgetful of his actual surroundings in his wish to make me quickly
understand the change that had come over his views since we parted
at Columbus. He was so absorbed that even when a shell burst near
us, he only half gave it attention, saying in a parenthetical way
that he would change his position, as he would "rather not be hit in
the back by one of those confounded things." We had been so sitting
that in facing me his back was toward the front and the line of
fire.
Colonel Key has been regarded by many as McClellan's evil genius,
whose influence had been dominant in the general's political conduct
and who was therefore the cause of his downfall. His influence on
McClellan was unquestionably great,--and what he said to me is an
important help in understanding the general's conduct and opinions.
It accords with other statements of his which have been made public
by Judge William M. Dickson of Cincinnati, who at one time was
Colonel Key's partner in the practice of the law. [Footnote: I have
failed in my efforts to find a communication on the subject in a
newspaper, written by Judge Dickson, which he showed to me,
reiterating his statements in it.]
General McClellan urged me to come to his headquarters without
ceremony, and after the battle of Antietam I had several
opportunities of unrestrained discussion of affairs in which he
seemed entirely frank in giving me his opinions. It was plainly
evident that he was subjected to a good deal of pressure by
opponents of the administration to make him commit himself to them.
On the other hand, Governor Dennison of Ohio, who was his sincere
friend, took every opportunity to counteract such influences and to
promote a good understanding between him and Mr. Lincoln. McClellan
perfectly knew my own position as an outspoken Republican who from
the first had regarded the system of slavery as the stake ventured
by the Secessionists on their success in the war, and who held to
John Quincy Adams's doctrine that the war powers were adequate to
destroy the institution which we could not constitutionally abolish
otherwise. With me, the only question was when the ripe time had
come for action, and I had looked forward to Mr. Lincoln's
proclamation with some impatience at the delay.
The total impression left upon me by the general's conversation was
that he agreed with Colonel Key in believing that the war ought to
end in abolition of slavery; but he feared the effects of haste, and
thought the steps toward the end should be conservatively careful
and not brusquely radical. I thought, and still think, that he
regarded the President as nearly right in his general views and
political purposes, but overcrowded by more radical men around him
into steps which as yet were imprudent and extreme. Such an attitude
on his part made Governor Dennison and myself feel that there was no
need of any political quarrel between him and the administration,
and that if he would only rebuff all political intriguers and put
more aggressive energy into his military operations, his career
might be a success for the country as well as for himself. The
portions of his correspondence with Burnside which have become
public show that the latter also had, as a true friend, constantly
urged him to keep out of political controversy. Burnside himself,
like Grant and Sherman, began with a dislike of the antislavery
movement; but, also like them, his patriotism being the dominant
quality, the natural effect of fighting the Secessionists was to
beget in him a hearty acceptance of the policy of emancipation to
which Mr. Lincoln had been led by the same educational process.
At the time I am speaking of, I knew nothing of McClellan's famous
letter to the President from Harrison's Landing, of July 7, but
since it has come to light, I have interpreted it much less harshly
than many have done. Reading it in the light of his talk during
those Antietam days, I think it fair to regard it as an effort to
show Mr. Lincoln that they were not far apart in opinion, and to
influence the President to take the more conservative course to
which he thought him inclined when taking counsel only of his own
judgment. McClellan knew that his "change of base" to the James
River in June was not accepted as the successful strategy he
declared it to be, and that strong influences were at work to remove
him. Under the guise of giving advice to the President, he was in
fact assuring him that he did not look to the acknowledgment of the
Confederacy as a conceivable outcome of the war; that the
"contraband" doctrine applied to slaves was consistent with
compensated emancipation; that he favored the application of the
principle to the border States so as to make them free States; that
concentration of military force as opposed to dispersion of effort
was the true policy; that he opposed the rules of warfare which he
assumed were announced in General Pope's much criticised orders; and
lastly, that he would cordially serve under such general-in-chief as
Mr. Lincoln should select.
Compare all this with Mr. Lincoln's known views. It was notorious
that he was thought to be too conservative by many of his own party.
He had urged a system of compensated emancipation for the border
States. He had said that he held the slavery question to be only a
part, and an absolutely subordinate part, of the greater question of
saving the Union. He had disapproved of a portion of Pope's order
regarding the treatment of non-combatants. However ill-advised
McClellan's letter was, it may be read between the lines as an
attempt to strengthen himself with the President as against Stanton
and others, and to make his military seat firmer in the saddle by
showing that he was not in political antagonism to Mr. Lincoln, but
held, in substance, the conservative views that were supposed to be
his. Its purpose seems to me to have been of this personal sort. He
did not publish it at the time, and it was not till he was removed
from his command that it became a kind of political manifesto. This
view is supported by what occurred after the publication of the
Emancipation Proclamation, which I shall tell presently; but, to
preserve the proper sequence, I must first give another incident.
A few days after the battle of Antietam a prominent clergyman of
Hagerstown spent the Sunday in camp, and McClellan invited a number
of officers to attend religious services in the parlors of the house
where headquarters were. The rooms were well filled, several
civilians being also present. I was standing by myself as we were
waiting for the clergyman to appear, when a stout man in civilian's
dress entered into conversation with me. He stood at my side as we
faced the upper part of the suite of rooms, and taking it to be a
casual talk merely to pass the time, I paid rather languid attention
to it and to him as he began with some complimentary remarks about
the army and its recent work. He spoke quite enthusiastically of
McClellan, and my loyalty to my commander as well as my personal
attachment to him made me assent cordially to what he said. He then
spoke of the politicians in Washington as wickedly trying to
sacrifice the general, and added, whispering the words emphatically
in my ear, "But you military men have that matter in your own hands,
you have but to tell the administration what they must do, and they
will not dare to disregard it!" This roused me, and I turned upon
him with a sharp "What do you mean, sir!" As I faced him, I saw at
once by his look that he had mistaken me for another; he mumbled
something about having taken me for an acquaintance of his, and
moved away among the company.
I was a good deal agitated, for though there was more or less of
current talk about disloyal influences at work, I had been sceptical
as to the fact, and to be brought face to face with that sort of
thing was a surprise. I was a stranger to most of those who were
there, and walked a little aside, watching the man who had left me.
I soon saw him talking with General Fitz-John Porter, on the
opposite side of the room, evidently calling attention to me as if
asking who I was. I made inquiries as to who the civilian was, and
later came to know him by sight very well. He was John W. Garrett,
President of the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad Company.
Mr. Lincoln's Emancipation Proclamation was published on the 24th of
September, and within a very few days I was invited to meet General
Burnside and General John Cochrane of New York at a camp dinner in
McClellan's tent. General Cochrane was a "War Democrat" in politics,
and had been active as a politician in his State. He was also the
son-in-law of Gerrit Smith, the well-known abolitionist, and had
advocated arming the slaves as early as November, 1861. McClellan
told us frankly that he had brought us there for the purpose of
asking our opinions and advice with regard to the course he should
pursue respecting the Proclamation. He said that he was urged to put
himself in open opposition to it by politicians not only, but by
army officers who were near to him. He named no names, but intimated
that they were of rank and influence which gave weight to their
advice. He knew that we were all friends of the administration, and
his object seemed to be to learn whether we thought he should say
anything or should maintain silence on the subject; for he assumed
that we would oppose any hostile demonstration on his part.
This naturally led to inquiries as to his actual attitude to the
slavery question, and he expressed himself in substance as I have
before indicated; repeating with even stronger emphasis his belief
that the war would work out the manumission of the slaves gradually
and ultimately, and that as to those who came within our lines as we
advanced the liberation would be complete and immediate. He thought,
however, that the Proclamation was premature, and that it indicated
a change in the President's attitude which he attributed to radical
influences at Washington.
There had been no previous understanding between us who were his
guests. For my part, I then met General Cochrane for the first time,
and had conversed with McClellan himself more freely on political
subjects than I had with Burnside. We found ourselves, however, in
entire accord in advising him that any declaration on his part
against the Proclamation would be a fatal error. We could easily
understand that he should differ from us in his way of viewing the
question of public policy, but we pointed out very clearly that any
public utterance by him in his official character criticising the
civil policy of the administration would be properly regarded as a
usurpation. He intimated that this was his own opinion, but, by way
of showing how the matter was thrust at him by others, said that
people had assured him that the army was so devoted to him that they
would as one man enforce any decision he should make as to any part
of the war policy.
I had so recently gone through the little experience on this subject
which I have narrated above, that I here spoke out with some
emphasis. I said that those who made such assurances were his worst
enemies, and in my judgment knew much less of the army than they
pretended; that our volunteer soldiers were citizens as well as
soldiers, and were citizens more than soldiers; and that greatly as
I knew them to be attached to him, I believed not a corporal's guard
would stand by his side if he were to depart from the strict
subordination of the military to the civil authority. Burnside and
Cochrane both emphatically assented to this, and McClellan added
that he heartily believed both that it was true and that it ought to
be so. But this still left the question open whether the very fact
that there was an agitation in camp on the subject, and intrigues of
the sort I have mentioned, did not make it wise for him to say
something which would show, at least, that he gave no countenance to
any would-be revolutionists. We debated this at some length, with
the general conclusion that it might be well for him to remind the
army in general orders that whatever might be their rights as
citizens, they must as soldiers beware of any organized effort to
meddle with the functions of the civil government.
I left the Army of the Potomac before McClellan's general order on
this subject, dated October 7, was published, but when I read it in
the light of the conference in his tent, I regarded it as an honest
effort on his part to break through the toils which intriguers had
spread for him, and regretted that what seemed to me one of his most
laudable actions should have been one of the most misrepresented and
misunderstood.
[Footnote: The order is found in Official Records, vol. xix. pt. ii.
p. 395, and is as follows:--
General Orders. No. 163.
HEAD-QUARTERS ARMY OF THE POTOMAC, CAMP NEAR SHARPSBURG, MD.,
October 7, 1862.
The attention of the officers and soldiers of the army of the
Potomac is called to General Orders No, 139, War Department,
September 24, 1862, publishing to the army the President's
proclamation of September 22.
A proclamation of such grave moment to the nation, officially
communicated to the army, affords to the general commanding an
opportunity of defining specifically to the officers and soldiers
under his command the relation borne by all persons in the military
service of the United States toward the civil authorities of the
Government. The Constitution confides to the civil
authorities--legislative, judicial, and executive--the power and
duty of making, expounding, and executing the Federal laws. Armed
forces are raised and supported simply to sustain the civil
authorities, and are to be held in strict subordination thereto in
all respects. This fundamental rule of our political system is
essential to the security of our republican institutions, and should
be thoroughly understood and observed by every soldier. The
principle upon which and the object for which armies shall be
employed in suppressing rebellion, must be determined and declared
by the civil authorities, and the Chief Executive, who is charged
with the administration of the national affairs, is the proper and
only source through which the needs and orders of the Government can
be made known to the armies of the nation.
Discussions by officers and soldiers concerning public measures
determined upon and declared by the Government, when carried at all
beyond temperate and respectful expressions of opinion, tend greatly
to impair and destroy the discipline and efficiency of troops, by
substituting the spirit of political faction for that firm, steady,
and earnest support of the authorities of the Government, which is
the highest duty of the American soldier. The remedy for political
errors, if any are committed, is to be found only in the action of
the people at the polls.
In thus calling the attention of this army to the true relation
between the soldier and the government, the general commanding
merely adverts to an evil against which it has been thought
advisable during our whole history to guard the armies of the
Republic, and in so doing he will not be considered by any
right-minded person as casting any reflection upon that loyalty and
good conduct which has been so fully illustrated upon so many
battle-fields.
In carrying out all measures of public policy, this army will of
course be guided by the same rules of mercy and Christianity that
have ever controlled its conduct toward the defenceless.
By Command of Major-General McClellan,
JAS. A. HARDIE,
Lieutenant-Colonel, Aide-de-camp, and Act'g Ass't Adj't Gen'l."]
I have always understood that the order was drafted by Colonel Key,
who afterward expressed in very strong terms his confidence in the
high motives and progressive tendencies of McClellan at the time he
issued it.
General Cochrane, some time after the close of the war, in a
pamphlet outlining his own military history, made reference to the
visit to McClellan which I have narrated, and states that he was so
greatly impressed by the anti-slavery sentiments avowed by the
general, that he made use of them in a subsequent effort to bring
him and Secretary Chase into more cordial relations. [Footnote: The
War for the Union, Memoir by General John Cochrane, pp. 29-31.] It
is possible that, in a friendly comparison of views in which we were
trying to find how nearly we could come together, the general may
have put his opinions with a liberality which outran his ordinary
statements of belief; but I am very sure that he gave every evidence
of sincerity, and that none of us entertained a doubt of his being
entirely transparent with us. He has since, in his "Own Story,"
referred to his taking counsel of Mr. Aspinwall of New York at about
the same time, and there is evidence that General W. F. Smith also
threw his influence against any opposition by McClellan to the
Emancipation Proclamation. [Footnote: Nicolay and Hay's Lincoln,
vol. vi. p. 180.] McClellan's letters show that his first impulse
was to antagonism; but there is no fair reason to doubt that his
action at last was prompted by the reasons which he avowed in our
conversation, and by the honorable motives he professed. He
immediately sent a copy of his order to Mr. Lincoln personally, and
this indicates that he believed the President would be pleased with
it.
The reference which he made to suggestions that the army would
follow him in a _coup d'e'tat_ is supported by what he formally
declared in his memoirs. He there tells us that in 1861 he was often
approached in regard to a "dictatorship," and that when he was
finally removed many in the army were in favor of his marching upon
Washington to take possession of the government. [Footnote: Own
Story, pp. 85, 652.] It would seem that treasonable notions were
rife about him to an extent that was never suspected, unless he was
made the dupe of pretenders who saw some profit in what might be
regarded as a gross form of adulation. He must be condemned for the
weakness which made such approaches to him possible; but we are
obliged to take the fact as he gives it, and to accept as one of the
strange elements of the situation a constant stream of treasonable
suggestions from professed friends in the army and out of it. An
anecdote which came to me in a way to make it more than ordinarily
trustworthy was that in the summer of 1861 McClellan was riding with
an older officer of the regular army, [Footnote: General McCall.]
and said to him, "I understand there is a good deal of talk of
making a dictatorship." "Ah!" said the other, "Mr. Lincoln, I
suppose." "Oh, no," replied McClellan, "it's me they're talking of."
Bits of evidence from many sources prove that there had been from
the first too much such talk about Washington, and whilst McClellan
cannot be held responsible for it, there is no proof that he rebuked
it as he should have done. It was part of the fermenting political
and military intrigue which is found at the seat of government in
such a time, if anywhere, and I take satisfaction in testifying that
away from that neighborhood I never even heard the thing mentioned
or referred to, that I can recollect. Washington would be spoken of
in a general way as a place of intrigues, but I never knew this to
have a wider meaning given to it than the ordinary one of political
schemes within lawful limits and personal ambitions of no criminal
character.
Mr. Lincoln visited our camp on the 1st of October, and remained two
or three days. I was with the party of officers invited by McClellan
to accompany the President in a ride over the route which Sumner had
followed in the battle. We crossed the Antietam in front of
Keedysville, followed the hollows and byways to the East Wood, and
passed through this and the cornfields which had been the scene of
Hooker's and Mansfield's fierce fighting. We visited the Dunker
Church and then returned to camp by Bloody Lane and the central
stone bridge. The President was observant and keenly interested in
the field of battle, but made no display of sentiment. On another
day he reviewed the troops which were most accessible from
headquarters. As my own corps was among the first on the list, I did
not join the escort of the President at the general's quarters, but
was with the troops attending to the details of the parade. We were
ordered to be under arms at eight o'clock, but it was more than two
hours after that when the reviewing cortège came on the ground. The
officers were very hilarious over some grotesque story with which
Mr. Lincoln had seasoned the conversation, and which seemed to have
caused some forgetfulness of the appointment with the troops. We
were reviewed by divisions, and I met the party with my staff,
riding down the lines with them, and answering the inquiries of the
President and the general as to the history and the experience of
the different organizations as we passed them. The usual march in
review was omitted for lack of time, the President contenting
himself with riding along the lines formed in parade. I had missed
seeing the President in Washington when I paid my respects at the
White House, and this was my first meeting with him after his
inauguration. His unpretending cordiality was what first impressed
one, but you soon saw with what sharp intelligence and keen humor he
dealt with every subject which came up. He referred very pleasantly
to his knowledge of me through Secretary Chase, showing the kindly
instinct to find some compliment or evidence of recognition for all
who approached him.
This geniality in Mr. Lincoln made him avoid personal criticism of
the campaign, and gave an air of earnest satisfaction to what he
said of the work done by McClellan. There was enough to praise, and
he praised it heartily. He was also thankful that the threatened
invasion of the North had been defeated, and showed his sense of
great relief. He had adopted the rule for himself to limit his
direct influence upon his generals to the presentation of his ideas
of what was desirable, often taking pains even in his written
communications to say that he made no order, and left the definite
direction to General Halleck. McClellan gave the most favorable
interpretation to all that the President said, but could not ignore
the anxiety Mr. Lincoln showed that an energetic campaign should be
continued. He wrote home: "I incline to think that the real purpose
of his visit is to push me into a premature advance into Virginia."
[Footnote: O. S., p. 654.]
The President had coupled his earliest telegraphic congratulations
with the question, "Can't you beat them some more before they get
off?" and McClellan's private correspondence shows that he, on his
part, chafed at every suggestion of haste. As early as the 22d of
September, the general had written that he looked upon the campaign
as substantially ended, and intended to give some time to the
reorganization of the army before beginning a new one. The vicinity
of Harper's Ferry or Frederick seemed to him the proper place for
the camp meanwhile, and he wished for a rise in the Potomac River
which should make it impracticable for Lee to ford it again. He
delayed in the neighborhood of Sharpsburg, waiting for this. To
those of us with whom he talked freely, he spoke of the necessity of
incorporating into the Army of the Potomac at least a hundred
thousand of the new levies to make it really fit for an aggressive
campaign, and argued that it would save time in the end to use some
of it now in the work of reorganizing.
Mr. Lincoln was plainly troubled with the apprehension that the
delays of 1861 were to be repeated, and that the fine October
weather of that region would be again wasted and nothing done till
the next spring. There were men enough about him at Washington to
remind him of this in irritating ways, and to make him realize that
as he had personally restored McClellan to the command he would be
personally responsible for keeping him moving. McClellan rightly
understood Mr. Lincoln's visit as meaning this. He did not refuse to
move; on the other hand, he professed to be anxious to do so at the
earliest moment when it should be really practicable. His obstinacy
was of a feminine sort. He avoided open antagonism which would have
been a challenge of strength, but found constantly fresh obstacles
in the way of doing what he was determined from the first not to do.
The need of clothing for the men and of horses for the cavalry was a
fruitful subject for debate, and the debate, if sufficiently
prolonged, would itself accomplish the delay that was desired.
The official correspondence shows that the President went back to
Washington determined to cut the knot in a peremptory way, if he was
forced to do so. McClellan could not have been blind to this. His
private letters show that he thought it not improbable that he would
be relieved from command. His desire for military success was a
ruling one with him on both public and private grounds. We are
forced, therefore, to conclude that he actually lacked faith in
success, and regarded the crossing of the Potomac as too perilous
until he should reorganize the army with the additional hundred
thousand recruits. In this we see the ever-recurring effect of his
exaggeration of the enemy's force. We now know that this
over-estimate was inexcusable, but we cannot deny that he made it,
nor, altogether, that he believed in it. It constituted a
disqualification for such a command, and led to what must be
regarded as the inevitable result,--his removal. The political
questions connected with the matter cut no important figure in it.
If he had had faith in his ability to conquer Lee's army, we should
never have heard of them.
Whilst I mean what I say in speaking of McClellan's exaggeration of
his enemy as constituting incompetence for such a command, it has
reference to the necessity in which we were that our army should be
aggressively handled. Few men could excel him in strictly defensive
operations. He did not lack personal courage, nor did his
intellectual powers become obscured in the excitement of actual war.
He showed the ordinary evidences of presence of mind and coolness of
judgment under fire. His tendency to see his enemy doubled in force
was, however, a constitutional one, and no amount of experience
seemed to cure it. Had it not been so he would have devised checks
upon the reports of his secret-service agents, and corrected their
estimates by those more reliable methods which I have already spoken
of. McClellan was, even in those days, often compared to Marshal
Daun, whose fair ability but studiously defensive policy was so in
contrast with the daring strategy of the great Frederick. The
comparison was a fair one. The trouble was that we had need of a
Frederick.
It may seem strange that his subordinates so generally accepted his
view and supported him in his conduct; but it was a natural result
of forces always at work in an army. The old maxim that "Councils of
war never fight" is only another way of saying that an army is never
bolder than its leader. It is the same as the old Greek proverb,
"Better an army of deer with a lion for leader, than an army of
lions with a deer for leader." The body of men thus organized relies
upon its chief for the knowledge of the enemy and for the plan by
which the enemy is to be taken at a disadvantage. It will
courageously carry out his plans so long as he has faith in them
himself and has good fortune in their execution. Let doubt arise as
to either of these things and his troops raise the cry "We are
sacrificed," "We are slaughtered uselessly." McClellan's arts of
military popularity were such that his army accepted his estimate of
the enemy, and believed (in the main) that he had shown great
ability in saving them from destruction in a contest at such odds.
They were inclined, therefore, to hold the government at Washington
responsible for sacrificing them by demanding the impossible. Under
such circumstances nothing but a cautious defensive policy could be
popular with officers or men. If McClellan's data were true, he and
they were right. It would have been folly to cross the Potomac and,
with their backs to the river, fight a greatly superior enemy.
Because the data were not true there was no solution for the problem
but to give the army another commander, and painfully to undo the
military education it had for a year been receiving. The process of
disillusion was a slow one. The disasters to Burnside and Hooker
strengthened the error. Meade's standstill after Gettysburg was very
like McClellan's after Antietam, and Mr. Lincoln had to deal with it
in a very similar way. When Grant took command the army expected him
to have a similar fate, and his reputation was treated as of little
worth because he had not yet "met Bobby Lee." His terrible method of
"attrition" was a fearfully costly one, and the flower of that army
was transferred from the active roster to the casualty lists before
the prestige of its enemy was broken. But it was broken, and
Appomattox came at last.
It will not do to say that the Confederate army in Virginia was in
any sense superior to their army in the West. When the superior
force of the National army was systematically applied, General Lee
was reduced to as cautious a defensive in Virginia as was General
Johnston in Georgia. Longstreet and Hood had no better success when
transferred to the West than the men who had never belonged to the
Army of Virginia. In fact, it was with Joseph E. Johnston as his
opponent that McClellan's career was chiefly run. Yet the
Confederate army in the West was broken at Donelson and at
Vicksburg. It was driven from Stone's River to Chattanooga, and from
Missionary Ridge to Atlanta. Its remnant was destroyed at Franklin
and Nashville, and Sherman's March to the Sea nearly completed the
traverse of the whole Confederacy. His victorious army was close in
rear of Petersburg when Richmond was finally won. Now that we have
got rid of the fiction that the Confederate government gave to Lee
an enormously larger army than it gave to Bragg or to Joseph
Johnston, we have to account for the fact that with much less odds
in their favor our Western army accomplished so much more. As a
military objective Richmond was in easier reach from the Potomac
than Nashville from the Ohio. From Nashville to Chattanooga was
fully as difficult a task. The vulnerable lines of communication
multiplied in length as we went southward, and made the campaign of
Atlanta more difficult still. Vicksburg was a harder nut to crack
than Richmond. We must put away our _esprit de corps_, and squarely
face the problem as one of military art with the Official Records
and returns before us. Our Western army was of essentially the same
material as the Eastern. Regiments from nearly all the States were
mingled in both. Wisconsin men fought beside those from Maine in the
Army of the Potomac, as men who had fought at Antietam and at
Gettysburg followed Sherman through the Carolinas. The difference
was not in the rank and file, it was not in the subordinates. It was
the difference in leadership and in the education of the armies
under their leaders during their first campaigns. That mysterious
thing, the morale of an army, grows out of its belief as to what it
can do. If it is systematically taught that it is hopelessly
inferior to its adversary, it will be held in check by a fraction of
its own force. The general who indoctrinates his army with the
belief that it is required by its government to do the impossible,
may preserve his popularity with the troops and be received with
cheers as he rides down the line, but he has put any great military
success far beyond his reach. In this study of military morale, its
causes and its effects, the history of the Army of the Potomac is
one of the most important and one of the gravest lessons the world
has ever seen.
I have to confess that at Antietam I shared, more or less fully, the
opinions of those among whom I was. I accepted McClellan as the best
authority in regard to the enemy's numbers, and, assuming that he
was approximately right in that, the reasonable prudence of waiting
for reinforcements could not be denied. I saw that he had lost
valuable time in the movements of the campaign, but the general
result seemed successful enough to hide this for the time at least.
My own experience, therefore, supports the conclusion I have already
stated, that an army's enterprise is measured by its commander's,
and, by a necessary law, the army reflects his judgment as to what
it can or cannot accomplish.
Mr. Lincoln had told McClellan during his visit to the army that his
great fault was "overcautiousness." He had intimated plainly enough
that he must insist upon the continuance of the campaign. He had
discussed the plans of advance, and urged McClellan to operate upon
Lee's communications by marching south on the east side of the Blue
Ridge. He had disclaimed any purpose of forcing a movement before
the army was ready, but saw no reason why it should take longer to
get ready after Antietam than after Pope's last battle. Soon after
his return to Washington, Halleck sent a peremptory order to
McClellan to cross the Potomac. [Footnote: Official Records, vol.
xix. pt. i. p. 10.] It was dated October 6th, and said: "The
President directs that you cross the Potomac and give battle to the
enemy or drive him South. Your army must move now while the roads
are good. If you cross the river between the enemy and Washington,
and cover the latter by your line of operations, you can be
reinforced with 30,000 men. If you move up the valley of the
Shenandoah, not more than 12,000 or 15,000 can be sent to you. The
President advises the interior line between Washington and the
enemy, but does not order it." It also required him to report
immediately which line he adopted. Halleck, as General-in-chief,
ought to have given his own decision as to the line of operations,
but his characteristic indecision was shown in failing to do so. He
did not even express an opinion as to the relative merits of the two
lines, and limited himself to his concurrence in the order to move
in one way or the other.
McClellan replied on the 7th, [Footnote: Official Records, vol. xix.
pt. i. p. 11.] saying that he had determined to adopt the Shenandoah
line, though he wished to "state distinctly" that he should only use
that line till the enemy should retire beyond Winchester, as he did
not expect to be able to supply his army more than twenty or
twenty-five miles beyond a railway or canal depot. If the enemy
retreated, he would adopt some new and decisive line of operations.
He objected to the interior line because it did not cover Maryland
and Pennsylvania from a return of Lee's army, and because (as he
said) the army could not be supplied by it. He indicated three days
as the time within which he could move. At the end of that time he
complained of still lacking clothing. On the 12th he found it
"absolutely necessary" that the cavalry should have more horses. The
discussion over these things ran on till the 21st.
Mr. Lincoln made a strong effort to save McClellan from the effects
of his mental deficiencies. He exhausted advice and exhortation. He
even ventured upon mild raillery on the idleness of the army. On the
13th he had written a remarkable letter to McClellan, in which he
reminded him of what had occurred between them at the Antietam and
argued in favor of the interior line of movement. [Footnote:
Official Records, vol. xix. pt. i. p. 13.] He showed that Lee at
Winchester supplied his army twice as far from his railway depot as
McClellan thought possible for the Army of the Potomac. He urged the
recognized advantage of operating by a line which attacked the
enemy's communications. He pointed out that if Lee should try to
cross the Potomac, our army could be in his rear and should destroy
him. He showed that McClellan at Harper's Ferry was nearer to
Richmond than Lee: "His route is the arc of a circle of which yours
is the chord." He analyzed the map and showed that the interior line
was the easier for supplying the army: "The chord line, as you see,
carries you by Aldie, Haymarket and Fredericksburg, and you see how
turnpikes, railroads, and finally the Potomac by Acquia Creek, meet
you at all points from Washington." He even gave the figures in
miles from gap to gap in the mountains, which would enable McClellan
to strike the enemy in flank or rear; and this was of course to be
done if Lee made a stand. "It is all easy," his letter concluded,
"if our troops march as well as the enemy; and it is unmanly to say
they cannot do it." Yet he expressly disclaimed making his letter an
order. [Footnote: Since writing this, I have had occasion to treat
this subject more fully, as bearing upon Mr. Lincoln's military
judgment and intelligence, in a review of Henderson's Stonewall
Jackson, "The Nation," Nov. 24, Dec. 1, 1898.]
As a mere matter of military comprehension and judgment of the
strategic situation, the letter puts Mr. Lincoln head and shoulders
above both his military subordinates. Halleck saw its force, but
would not order it to be carried out. McClellan shrank from the
decisive vigor of the plan, though he finally accepted it as the
means of getting the larger reinforcements. On the 21st of October
the discussion of cavalry horses was pretty well exhausted, and
McClellan telegraphed Halleck [Footnote: Official Records, vol. xix.
pt. i. p. 81.] that in other respects he was nearly ready to move,
and inquires whether the President desired him to march on the enemy
at once or to wait the arrival of the new horses. Halleck answered
that the order of the 6th October remained unchanged. "If you have
not been and are not now in condition to obey it, you will be able
to show such want of ability. The President does not expect
impossibilities, but he is very anxious that all this good weather
should not be wasted in inactivity. Telegraph when you will move and
on what lines you propose to march." This dispatch was plainly a
notice to McClellan that he would be held responsible for the
failure to obey the order of the 6th unless he could exonerate
himself by showing that he could not obey it. In his final report,
however, he says that he treated it as authority to decide for
himself whether or not it was possible to move with safety to the
army; [Footnote: _Ibid_.] "and this responsibility," he says, "I
exercised with the more confidence in view of the strong assurance
of his trust in me, as commander of that army, with which the
President had seen fit to honor me during his last visit." Argument
is superfluous, in view of the correspondence, to show that orders
and exhortations were alike wasted.
The movement began in the last days of October, the Sixth Corps,
which was in the rear, crossing the Potomac on the 2d of November.
McClellan had accepted Mr. Lincoln's plan, but lack of vigor in its
execution broke down the President's patience, and on the 5th of
November, upon Lee's recrossing the Blue Ridge without a battle, he
ordered the general to turn over the command to Burnside, as he had
declared he would do if Lee's was allowed to regain the interior
line. The order was presented and obeyed on the 7th, and McClellan
left the army. The fallen general brooded morbidly over it all for
twenty years, and then wrote his "Own Story," a most curious piece
of self-exposure, in which he unconsciously showed that the
illusions which had misguided him in his campaigns were still
realities to him, and that he had made no use of the authentic facts
which Confederate as well as National records had brought within his
reach. He had forgotten much, but he had learned nothing.