McClellan's Illness--Lincoln Consults McDowell and Franklin--President's
Plan against Manassas--McClellan's Plan against Richmond--Cameron and
Stanton--President's War Order No. 1--Lincoln's Questions to
McClellan--News from the West--Death of Willie Lincoln--The Harper's
Ferry Fiasco--President's War Order No. 3--The News from Hampton
Roads--Manassas Evacuated--Movement to the Peninsular--Yorktown--The
Peninsula Campaign--Seven Days' Battles--Retreat to Harrison's Landing
We have seen how the express orders of President Lincoln in the early
days of January, 1862, stirred the Western commanders to the beginning
of active movements that brought about an important series of victories
during the first half of the year. The results of his determination to
break a similar military stagnation in the East need now to be related.
The gloomy outlook at the beginning of the year has already been
mentioned. Finding on January 10 that General McClellan was still ill
and unable to see him, he called Generals McDowell and Franklin into
conference with himself, Seward, Chase, and the Assistant Secretary of
War; and, explaining to them his dissatisfaction and distress at
existing conditions, said to them that "if something were not soon done,
the bottom would be out of the whole affair; and if General McClellan
did not want to use the army, he would like to borrow it, provided he
could see how it could be made to do something."
The two generals, differing on some other points, agreed, however, in a
memorandum prepared next day at the President's request, that a direct
movement against the Confederate army at Manassas was preferable to a
movement by water against Richmond; that preparations for the former
could be made in a week, while the latter would require a month or six
weeks. Similar discussions were held on the eleventh and twelfth, and
finally, on January 13, by which date General McClellan had sufficiently
recovered to be present. McClellan took no pains to hide his displeasure
at the proceedings, and ventured no explanation when the President asked
what and when anything could be done. Chase repeated the direct
interrogatory to McClellan himself, inquiring what he intended doing
with his army, and when he intended doing it. McClellan stated his
unwillingness to develop his plans, but said he would tell them if he
was ordered to do so. The President then asked him if he had in his own
mind any particular time fixed when a movement could be commenced.
McClellan replied that he had. "Then," rejoined the President, "I will
adjourn this meeting."
While these conferences were going on, a change occurred in the
President's cabinet; Secretary of War Cameron, who had repeatedly
expressed a desire to be relieved from the onerous duties of the War
Department, was made minister to Russia and Edwin M. Stanton appointed
to succeed him. Stanton had been Attorney-General during the last months
of President Buchanan's administration, and, though a lifelong Democrat,
had freely conferred and coöperated with Republican leaders in the
Senate and House of Representatives in thwarting secession schemes. He
was a lawyer of ability and experience, and, possessing organizing
qualities of a high degree combined with a strong will and great
physical endurance, gave his administration of the War Department a
record for efficiency which it will be difficult for any future minister
to equal; and for which service his few mistakes and subordinate faults
of character will be readily forgotten. In his new functions, Stanton
enthusiastically seconded the President's efforts to rouse the Army of
the Potomac to speedy and vigorous action.
In his famous report, McClellan states that very soon after Stanton
became Secretary of War he explained verbally to the latter his plan of
a campaign against Richmond by way of the lower Chesapeake Bay, and at
Stanton's direction also explained it to the President. It is not
strange that neither the President nor the new Secretary approved it.
The reasons which then existed against it in theory, and were afterward
demonstrated in practice, are altogether too evident. As this first plan
was never reduced to writing, it may be fairly inferred that it was one
of those mere suggestions which, like all that had gone before, would
serve only to postpone action.
The patience of the President was at length so far exhausted that on
January 27 he wrote his General War Order No. I, which directed "that
the 22d day of February, 1862, be the day for a general movement of all
the land and naval forces of the United States against the insurgent
forces," and that the Secretaries of War and of the Navy, the
general-in-chief, and all other commanders and subordinates of land and
naval forces "will severally be held to their strict and full
responsibilities for prompt execution of this order." To leave no doubt
of his intention that the Army of the Potomac should make a beginning,
the President, four days later, issued his Special War Order No. I,
directing that after providing safely for the defense of Washington, it
should move against the Confederate army at Manassas Junction, on or
before the date announced.
As McClellan had been allowed to have his way almost without question
for six months past, it was, perhaps, as much through mere habit of
opposition as from any intelligent decision in his own mind that he
again requested permission to present his objections to the President's
plan. Mr. Lincoln, thereupon, to bring the discussion to a practical
point, wrote him the following list of queries on February 3:
"MY DEAR SIR: You and I have distinct and different plans for a movement
of the Army of the Potomac--yours to be down the Chesapeake, up the
Rappahannock to Urbana, and across land to the terminus of the railroad
on the York River; mine, to move directly to a point on the railroad
southwest of Manassas.
"If you will give me satisfactory answers to the following questions, I
shall gladly yield my plan to yours.
"_First_. Does not your plan involve a greatly larger expenditure of
time and money than mine?"
"_Second_. Wherein is a victory more certain by your plan than mine?"
"_Third_. Wherein is a victory more valuable by your plan than mine?"
"_Fourth_. In fact, would it not be less valuable in this, that it would
break no great line of the enemy's communications, while mine would?"
"_Fifth_. In case of disaster, would not a retreat be more difficult by
your plan than mine?"
Instead of specifically answering the President's concise
interrogatories, McClellan, on the following day, presented to the
Secretary of War a long letter, reciting in much detail his statement of
what he had done since coming to Washington, and giving a rambling
outline of what he thought might be accomplished in the future
prosecution of the war. His reasoning in favor of an advance by
Chesapeake Bay upon Richmond, instead of against Manassas Junction,
rests principally upon the assumption that at Manassas the enemy is
prepared to resist, while at Richmond there are no preparations; that to
win Manassas would give us only the field of battle and the moral effect
of a victory, while to win Richmond would give us the rebel capital with
its communications and supplies; that at Manassas we would fight on a
field chosen by the enemy, while at Richmond we would fight on one
chosen by ourselves. If as a preliminary hypothesis these comparisons
looked plausible, succeeding events quickly exposed their fallacy.
The President, in his anxious studies and exhaustive discussion with
military experts in the recent conferences, fully comprehended that
under McClellan's labored strategical theories lay a fundamental error.
It was not the capture of a place, but the destruction of the rebel
armies that was needed to subdue the rebellion. But Mr. Lincoln also saw
the fearful responsibility he would be taking upon himself if he forced
McClellan to fight against his own judgment and protest, even though
that judgment was incorrect. The whole subject, therefore, underwent a
new and yet more elaborate investigation. The delay which this rendered
necessary was soon greatly lengthened by two other causes. It was about
this time that the telegraph brought news from the West of the surrender
of Fort Henry, February 6, the investment of Fort Donelson on the
thirteenth, and its surrender on the sixteenth, incidents which absorbed
the constant attention of the President and the Secretary of War. Almost
simultaneously, a heavy domestic sorrow fell upon Mr. Lincoln in the
serious illness of his son Willie, an interesting and most promising lad
of twelve, and his death in the White House on February 20.
When February 22 came, while there was plainly no full compliance with
the President's War Order No. I, there was, nevertheless, such promise
of a beginning, even at Washington, as justified reasonable expectation.
The authorities looked almost hourly for the announcement of two
preliminary movements which had been preparing for many days: one, to
attack rebel batteries on the Virginia shore of the Potomac; the other
to throw bridges--one of pontoons, the second a permanent bridge of
canal-boats--across the river at Harper's Ferry, and an advance by
Banks's division on Winchester to protect the opening of the Baltimore
and Ohio railroad and reëstablish transportation to and from the West
over that important route.
On the evening of February 27, Secretary Stanton came to the President,
and, after locking the door to prevent interruption, opened and read two
despatches from McClellan, who had gone personally to superintend the
crossing. The first despatch from the general described the fine spirits
of the troops, and the splendid throwing of the pontoon bridge by
Captain Duane and his three lieutenants, for whom he at once recommended
brevets, and the immediate crossing of eighty-five hundred infantry.
This despatch was dated at ten o'clock the previous night. "The next is
not so good," remarked the Secretary of War. It stated that the lift
lock was too small to permit the canal-boats to enter the river, so that
it was impossible to construct the permanent bridge. He would therefore
be obliged to fall back upon the safe and slow plan of merely covering
the reconstruction of the railroad, which would be tedious and make it
impossible to seize Winchester.
"What does this mean?" asked the President, in amazement.
"It means," said the Secretary of War, "that it is a damned fizzle. It
means that he doesn't intend to do anything."
The President's indignation was intense; and when, a little later,
General Marcy, McClellan's father-in-law and chief of staff, came in,
Lincoln's criticism of the affair was in sharper language than was his
usual habit.
"Why, in the name of common sense," said he, excitedly, "couldn't the
general have known whether canal-boats would go through that lock before
he spent a million dollars getting them there? I am almost despairing at
these results. Everything seems to fail. The impression is daily gaining
ground that the general does not intend to do anything. By a failure
like this we lose all the prestige gained by the capture of Fort
Donelson."
The prediction of the Secretary of War proved correct. That same night,
McClellan revoked Hooker's authority to cross the lower Potomac and
demolish the rebel batteries about the Occoquan River. It was doubtless
this Harper's Ferry incident which finally convinced the President that
he could no longer leave McClellan intrusted with the sole and
unrestricted exercise of military affairs. Yet that general had shown
such decided ability in certain lines of his profession, and had plainly
in so large a degree won the confidence of the Army of the Potomac
itself, that he did not wish entirely to lose the benefit of his
services. He still hoped that, once actively started in the field, he
might yet develop valuable qualities of leadership. He had substantially
decided to let him have his own way in his proposed campaign against
Richmond by water, and orders to assemble the necessary vessels had been
given before the Harper's Ferry failure was known.
Early on the morning of March 8, the President made one more effort to
convert McClellan to a direct movement against Manassas, but without
success. On the contrary, the general convened twelve of his division
commanders in a council, who voted eight to four for the water route.
This finally decided the question in the President's mind, but he
carefully qualified the decision by two additional war orders of his
own, written without consultation. President's General War Order No. 2
directed that the Army of the Potomac should be immediately organized
into four army corps, to be respectively commanded by McDowell, Sumner,
Heintzelman, and Keyes, and a fifth under Banks. It is noteworthy that
the first three of these had always earnestly advocated the Manassas
movement. President's General War Order No. 3 directed, in substance:
_First_. An immediate effort to capture the Potomac batteries. _Second_.
That until that was accomplished not more than two army corps should be
started on the Chesapeake campaign toward Richmond _Third_. That any
Chesapeake movement should begin in ten days; and--_Fourth_. That no
such movement should be ordered without leaving Washington entirely
secure.
Even while the President was completing the drafting and copying of
these important orders, events were transpiring which once more put a
new face upon the proposed campaign against Richmond. During the
forenoon of the next day, March 9, a despatch was received from Fortress
Monroe, reporting the appearance of the rebel ironclad _Merrimac_, and
the havoc she had wrought the previous afternoon--the _Cumberland_ sunk,
the _Congress_ surrendered and burned, the _Minnesota_ aground and about
to be attacked. There was a quick gathering of officials at the
Executive Mansion--Secretaries Stanton, Seward, Welles, Generals
McClellan, Meigs, Totten, Commodore Smith, and Captain Dahlgren--and a
scene of excitement ensued, unequaled by any other in the President's
office during the war. Stanton walked up and down like a caged lion, and
eager discussion animated cabinet and military officers. Two other
despatches soon came, one from the captain of a vessel at Baltimore, who
had left Fortress Monroe on the evening of the eighth, and a copy of a
telegram to the "New York Tribune," giving more details.
President Lincoln was the coolest man in the whole gathering, carefully
analyzing the language of the telegrams, to give their somewhat confused
statements intelligible coherence. Wild suggestions flew from speaker to
speaker about possible danger to be apprehended from the new marine
terror--whether she might not be able to go to New York or Philadelphia
and levy tribute, to Baltimore or Annapolis to destroy the transports
gathered for McClellan's movement, or even to come up the Potomac and
burn Washington; and all sorts of prudential measures and safeguards
were proposed.
In the afternoon, however, apprehension was greatly quieted. That very
day a cable was laid across the bay, giving direct telegraphic
communication with Fortress Monroe, and Captain Fox, who happened to be
on the spot, concisely reported at about 4 P.M. the dramatic sequel--the
timely arrival of the _Monitor_, the interesting naval battle between
the two ironclads, and that at noon the _Merrimac_ had withdrawn from
the conflict, and with her three small consorts steamed back into
Elizabeth River.
Scarcely had the excitement over the _Monitor_ and _Merrimac_ news begun
to subside, when, on the same afternoon, a new surprise burst upon the
military authorities in a report that the whole Confederate army had
evacuated its stronghold at Manassas and the batteries on the Potomac,
and had retired southward to a new line behind the Rappahannock. General
McClellan hastened across the river, and, finding the news to be
correct, issued orders during the night for a general movement of the
army next morning to the vacated rebel camps. The march was promptly
accomplished, notwithstanding the bad roads, and the troops had the
meager satisfaction of hoisting the Union flag over the deserted rebel
earthworks.
For two weeks the enemy had been preparing for this retreat; and,
beginning their evacuation on the seventh, their whole retrograde
movement was completed by March 11, by which date they were secure in
their new line of defense, "prepared for such an emergency--the south
bank of the Rappahannock strengthened by field-works, and provided with
a depot of food," writes General Johnston. No further comment is needed
to show McClellan's utter incapacity or neglect, than that for full two
months he had commanded an army of one hundred and ninety thousand,
present for duty, within two days' march of the forty-seven thousand
Confederates, present for duty, whom he thus permitted to march away to
their new strongholds without a gun fired or even a meditated attack.
General McClellan had not only lost the chance of an easy and brilliant
victory near Washington, but also the possibility of his favorite plan
to move by water to Urbana on the lower Rappahannock, and from there by
a land march _via_ West Point toward Richmond. On that route the enemy
was now in his way. He therefore, on March 13, hastily called a council
of his corps commanders, who decided that under the new conditions it
would be best to proceed by water to Fortress Monroe, and from there
move up the Peninsula toward Richmond. To this new plan, adopted in the
stress of excitement and haste, the President answered through the
Secretary of War on the same day:
"_First_. Leave such force at Manassas Junction as shall make it
entirely certain that the enemy shall not repossess himself of that
position and line of communication."
"_Second_. Leave Washington entirely secure."
"_Third_. Move the remainder of the force down the Potomac, choosing a
new base at Fort Monroe, or anywhere between here and there; or, at all
events, move such remainder of the army at once in pursuit of the enemy
by some route."
Two days before, the President had also announced a step which he had
doubtless had in contemplation for many days, if not many weeks, namely,
that--
"Major-General McClellan having personally taken the field at the head
of the Army of the Potomac, until otherwise ordered, he is relieved from
the command of the other military departments, he retaining command of
the Department of the Potomac."
This order of March 11 included also the already mentioned consolidation
of the western departments under Halleck; and out of the region lying
between Halleck's command and McClellan's command it created the
Mountain Department, the command of which he gave to General Frémont,
whose reinstatement had been loudly clamored for by many prominent and
enthusiastic followers.
As the preparations for a movement by water had been in progress since
February 27, there was little delay in starting the Army of the Potomac
on its new campaign. The troops began their embarkation on March 17, and
by April 5 over one hundred thousand men, with all their material of
war, had been transported to Fortress Monroe, where General McClellan
himself arrived on the second of the month, and issued orders to begin
his march on the fourth.
Unfortunately, right at the outset of this new campaign, General
McClellan's incapacity and want of candor once more became sharply
evident. In the plan formulated by the four corps commanders, and
approved by himself, as well as emphatically repeated by the President's
instructions, was the essential requirement that Washington should be
left entirely secure. Learning that the general had neglected this
positive injunction, the President ordered McDowell's corps to remain
for the protection of the capital; and when the general complained of
this, Mr. Lincoln wrote him on April 9:
"After you left I ascertained that less than twenty thousand unorganized
men, without a single field-battery, were all you designed to be left
for the defense of Washington and Manassas Junction; and part of this,
even, was to go to General Hooker's old position. General Banks's corps,
once designed for Manassas Junction, was divided and tied up on the line
of Winchester and Strasburg, and could not leave it without again
exposing the upper Potomac and the Baltimore and Ohio railroad. This
presented (or would present when McDowell and Sumner should be gone) a
great temptation to the enemy to turn back from the Rappahannock and
sack Washington. My explicit order that Washington should, by the
judgment of all the commanders of corps, be left entirely secure, had
been neglected. It was precisely this that drove me to detain McDowell.
"I do not forget that I was satisfied with your arrangement to leave
Banks at Manassas Junction; but when that arrangement was broken up and
nothing was substituted for it, of course I was not satisfied. I was
constrained to substitute something for it myself."
"And now allow me to ask, do you really think I should permit the line
from Richmond _via_ Manassas Junction to this city to be entirely open,
except what resistance could be presented by less than twenty thousand
unorganized troops? This is a question which the country will not allow
me to evade...."
"By delay, the enemy will relatively gain upon you--that is, he will
gain faster by fortifications and reinforcements than you can by
reinforcements alone. And once more let me tell you it is indispensable
to you that you strike a blow. I am powerless to help this. You will do
me the justice to remember I always insisted that going down the bay in
search of a field, instead of fighting at or near Manassas, was only
shifting and not surmounting a difficulty; that we would find the same
enemy and the same or equal intrenchments at either place. The country
will not fail to note--is noting now--that the present hesitation to
move upon an intrenched enemy is but the story of Manassas repeated."
General McClellan's expectations in coming to the Peninsula, first, that
he would find few or no rebel intrenchments, and, second, that he would
be able to make rapid movements, at once signally failed. On the
afternoon of the second day's march he came to the first line of the
enemy's defenses, heavy fortifications at Yorktown on the York River,
and a strong line of intrenchments and dams flooding the Warwick River,
extending to an impassable inlet from James River. But the situation was
not yet desperate. Magruder, the Confederate commander, had only eleven
thousand men to defend Yorktown and the thirteen-mile line of the
Warwick. McClellan, on the contrary, had fifty thousand at hand, and as
many more within call, with which to break the Confederate line and
continue his proposed "rapid movements." But now, without any adequate
reconnaissance or other vigorous effort, he at once gave up his thoughts
of rapid movement, one of the main advantages he had always claimed for
the water route, and adopted the slow expedient of a siege of Yorktown.
Not alone was his original plan of campaign demonstrated to be faulty,
but by this change in the method of its execution it became fatal.
It would be weary and exasperating to recount in detail the remaining
principal episodes of McClellan's operations to gain possession of the
Confederate capital. The whole campaign is a record of hesitation,
delay, and mistakes in the chief command, brilliantly relieved by the
heroic fighting and endurance of the troops and subordinate officers,
gathering honor out of defeat, and shedding the luster of renown over a
result of barren failure. McClellan wasted a month raising siege-works
to bombard Yorktown, when he might have turned the place by two or three
days' operations with his superior numbers of four to one. By his
failure to give instructions after Yorktown was evacuated, he allowed a
single division of his advance-guard to be beaten back at Williamsburg,
when thirty thousand of their comrades were within reach, but without
orders. He wrote to the President that he would have to fight double
numbers intrenched, when his own army was actually twice as strong as
that of his antagonist. Placing his army astride the Chickahominy, he
afforded that antagonist, General Johnston, the opportunity, at a sudden
rise of the river, to fall on one portion of his divided forces at Fair
Oaks with overwhelming numbers. Finally, when he was within four miles
of Richmond and was attacked by General Lee, he began a retreat to the
James River, and after his corps commanders held the attacking enemy at
bay by a successful battle on each of six successive days, he day after
day gave up each field won or held by the valor and blood of his heroic
soldiers. On July 1, the collected Union army made a stand at the battle
of Malvern Hill, inflicting a defeat on the enemy which practically
shattered the Confederate army, and in the course of a week caused it to
retire within the fortifications of Richmond. During all this
magnificent fighting, however, McClellan was oppressed by the
apprehension of impending defeat; and even after the brilliant victory
of Malvern Hill, continued his retreat to Harrison's Landing, where the
Union gunboats on the James River assured him of safety and supplies.
It must be borne in mind that this Peninsula campaign, from the landing
at Fortress Monroe to the battle at Malvern Hill, occupied three full
months, and that during the first half of that period the government,
yielding to McClellan's constant faultfinding and clamor for
reinforcements, sent him forty thousand additional men; also that in the
opinion of competent critics, both Union and Confederate, he had, after
the battle of Fair Oaks, and twice during the seven days' battles, a
brilliant opportunity to take advantage of Confederate mistakes, and by
a vigorous offensive to capture Richmond. But constitutional indecision
unfitted him to seize the fleeting chances of war. His hope of victory
was always overawed by his fear of defeat. While he commanded during a
large part of the campaign double, and always superior, numbers to the
enemy, his imagination led him continually to double their strength in
his reports. This delusion so wrought upon him that on the night of June
27 he sent the Secretary of War an almost despairing and insubordinate
despatch, containing these inexcusable phrases:
"Had I twenty thousand or even ten thousand fresh troops to use
to-morrow, I could take Richmond; but I have not a man in reserve, and
shall be glad to cover my retreat and save the material and personnel of
the army.... If I save this army now, I tell you plainly that I owe no
thanks to you or to any other persons in Washington. You have done your
best to sacrifice this army."
Under almost any other ruler such language would have been quickly
followed by trial and dismissal, if not by much severer punishment. But
while Mr. Lincoln was shocked by McClellan's disrespect, he was yet more
startled by the implied portent of the despatch. It indicated a loss of
confidence and a perturbation of mind which rendered possible even a
surrender of the whole army. The President, therefore, with his habitual
freedom from passion, merely sent an unmoved and kind reply:
"Save your army at all events. Will send reinforcements as fast as we
can. Of course they cannot reach you to-day, to-morrow, or next day. I
have not said you were ungenerous for saying you needed reinforcements.
I thought you were ungenerous in assuming that I did not send them as
fast as I could. I feel any misfortune to you and your army quite as
keenly as you feel it yourself. If you have had a drawn battle or a
repulse, it is the price we pay for the enemy not being in Washington."