THE THIRD AND CLOSING ACT OF THE MCCLELLAN DRAMA
As it seems probable that Mr. Lincoln did not conclusively determine
against the plan of McClellan for renewing the advance upon Richmond by
way of Petersburg, until after General Halleck had thus decided, so it
is certain that afterward he allowed to Halleck a control almost wholly
free from interference on his own part. Did he, perchance, feel that a
lesson had been taught him, and did he think that those critics had not
been wholly wrong who had said that he had intermeddled ignorantly and
hurtfully in military matters? Be this as it might, it was in accordance
with the national character to turn the back sharply upon failure and
disappointment, and to make a wholly fresh start; and it was in
accordance with Lincoln's character to fall in with the popular feeling.
Yet if a fresh start was intrinsically advisable, or if it was made
necessary by circumstances, it was made in unfortunate company. One does
not think without chagrin that Grant, Sherman, Sheridan lurked
undiscovered among the officers at the West, while Halleck and Pope were
pulled forth to the light and set in the high places. Halleck was
hopelessly incompetent, and Pope was fit only for subordinate command;
and by any valuation which could reasonably be put upon McClellan, it
was absurd to turn him out in order to bring either of these men in. But
it was the experimental period. No man's qualities could be known except
by testing them; and these two men came before Lincoln with records
sufficiently good to entitle them to trial. The successes at the West
had naturally produced good opinions of the officers who had achieved
them, and among these officers John Pope had been as conspicuous as any
other. For this reason he was now, towards the close of June, 1862,
selected to command the "Army of Virginia," formed by uniting the corps
of Fremont, McDowell, and Banks.[28] Fremont resigned, in a pet at
having an officer who was his junior in the service placed over his
head; but he was no loss, since his impetuous temperament did not fit
him for the duties of a corps commander. He was succeeded by General
Sigel. The fusing of these independent commands, whose separate
existence had been a wasteful and jeopardizing error, was an excellent
measure.
General Pope remained in Washington a few weeks, in constant
consultation with the administration. How he impressed Lincoln one would
gladly know, but cannot. He had unlimited self-confidence, and he gave
it to be understood at once that he was a fighting man; but it showed an
astounding lack of tact upon his part that, in notifying the troops of
this, his distinguishing characteristic, he also intimated that it would
behoove them to turn over a new leaf now that he had come all the way
from the West in order to teach Eastern men how to win victories! The
manifesto which he issued has become famous by its folly; it was
arrogant, bombastic, little short of insulting to the soldiers of his
command, and laid down principles contrary to the established rules of
war. Yet it had good qualities, too; for it was designed to be
stimulating; it certainly meant fighting; and fortunately, though Pope
was not a great general, he was by no means devoid of military knowledge
and instincts, and he would not really have committed quite such
blunders as he marked out for himself in his rhetorical enthusiasm. On
the whole, however, the manifesto did harm; neither officers nor
soldiers were inclined to receive kindly a man who came presumably on
trial with the purpose of replacing McClellan, whom they loved with deep
loyalty; therefore they ridiculed part of his address and took offense
at the rest of it. Mr. Lincoln could hardly have been encouraged; but he
gave no sign.
On July 29 Pope left Washington and joined his army, near Culpepper. He
had not quite 45,000 men, and was watched by Jackson, who lay near
Gordonsville with a scant half of that number. On August 9 Banks was
pushed forward to Cedar Mountain, where he encountered Jackson and
attacked him. In "a hard-fought battle, fierce, obstinate, sanguinary,"
the Federals were worsted; and such consolation as the people got from
the gallantry of the troops was more than offset by the fact, which
became obvious so soon as the whole story was known, that our generals
ought to have avoided the engagement and were outgeneraled both in the
bringing it on and in the conducting it.
Greatly as Jackson was outnumbered by Pope, he could hope for no
reinforcements from Lee so long as McClellan, at Harrison's Landing,
threatened Richmond. But when gratifying indications showed the purpose
to withdraw the Northern army from the Peninsula the Southern general
ventured, August 13, to dispatch General Longstreet northward with a
strong force. Soon afterward he himself followed and took command. Then
for two or three days ensued a sharp matching of wits betwixt the two
generals. By one of those audacious plans which Lee could dare to make
when he had such a lieutenant as Jackson to carry it out, Jackson was
sent upon a rapid march by the northward, around the army of Pope, to
cut its communications. He did it brilliantly; but in doing it he
necessarily offered to Pope such an opportunity for fighting the
Southern forces in detail as is rarely given by a good general to an
adversary whom he fears. Pope would fain have availed himself of the
chance, and in the effort to do so he hurried his troops hither and
thither, mingled wise moves with foolish ones, confused his
subordinates, fatigued his men, and finally accomplished nothing.
Jackson retired safely from his dangerous position, rejoined the rest of
the Southern army, and then the united force had as its immediate
purpose to fight Pope before he could receive reinforcements from
McClellan's army, now rapidly coming forward by way of Washington. _E
converso_, Pope's course should have been to retire a day's march across
Bull Run and await the additional troops who could at once join him
there. Unfortunately, however, he still felt the sting of the ridicule
which his ill-starred manifesto had called forth, and was further
irritated by the unsatisfactory record of the past few days, and
therefore was in no temper to fall back. So he did not, but stayed and
fought what is known as the second battle of Bull Run. In the conflict
his worn-out men showed such constancy that the slaughter on both sides
was great. Again, however, the bravery of the rank and file was the only
feature which the country could contemplate without indignation. The
army was beaten; and retired during the evening of August 30 to a safe
position at Centreville, whither it should have been taken without loss
two days earlier.[29] Thus was fulfilled, with only a trifling
inaccuracy in point of time, the prediction made by McClellan on August
10, that "Pope will be badly thrashed within ten days."[30]
In all this manoeuvring and fighting the commanding general had shown
some capacity, but very much less than was indispensable in a commander
who had to meet the generals of the South. Forthwith, also, there broke
out a series of demoralizing quarrels among the principal officers as to
what orders had been given and received, and whether or not they had
been understood or misunderstood, obeyed or disobeyed. Also the enemies
of General McClellan tried to lay upon him the whole responsibility for
the disaster, on the ground that he had been dilatory, first, in moving
his army from Harrison's Landing, and afterward, in sending his troops
forward to join Pope; whereas, they said, if he had acted promptly, the
Northern army would have been too strong to have been defeated,
regardless of any incompetence in the handling of it. Concerning the
former charge, it may be said that dispatches had flown to and fro
between Halleck and McClellan like bullets between implacable duelists;
Halleck ordered the army to be transported, and McClellan retorted that
he was given no transports; it is a dispute which cannot be discussed
here. Concerning the other charge, it was also true that the same two
generals had been for some days exchanging telegrams, but had been
entirely unable to understand each other. Whose fault it was cannot
easily be determined. The English language was giving our generals
almost as much trouble as were the Southerners at this time; so that in
a few short weeks material for endless discussion was furnished by the
orders, telegrams, and replies which were bandied between Pope and
Porter, McClellan and Halleck. A large part of the history of the period
consists of the critical analysis and construing of these documents.
What did each in fact mean? What did the writer intend it to mean? What
did the recipient understand it to 'mean? Did the writer make his
meaning sufficiently clear? Was the recipient justified in his
interpretation? Historians have discussed these problems as theologians
have discussed puzzling texts of the New Testament, with not less
acerbity and with no more conclusive results. Unquestionably the
capacity to write two or three dozen consecutive words so as to
constitute a plain, straightforward sentence would have been for the
moment a valuable adjunct to military learning.
The news of the defeat brought dismay, but not quite a panic, to the
authorities in Washington. In fact, there was no immediate danger for
the capital. The army from the Peninsula was by this time distributed at
various points in the immediate neighborhood; and a force could be
promptly brought together which would so outnumber the Confederate army
as to be invincible. Yet the situation demanded immediate and vigorous
action. Some hand must seize the helm at once, and Pope's hand would not
do; so much at least was entirely certain. He had been given his own
way, without interference on the part of President or secretary, and he
had been beaten; he was discredited before the country and the army;
nothing useful could now be done with him. Halleck was utterly
demoralized, and was actually reduced to telegraphing to McClellan: "I
beg of you to assist me, in this crisis, with your ability and
experience." It was the moment for a master to take control, and the
President met the occasion. There was only one thing to be done, and
circumstances were such that not only must that thing be done by him,
but also it must be done by him in direct opposition to the strenuous
insistence of all his official and most of his self-constituted
advisers. It was necessary to reinstate McClellan.
It was a little humiliating to be driven to this step. McClellan had
lately been kept at Alexandria with no duty save daily to disintegrate
his own army by sending off to Washington and to the camp of his own
probable successor division after division of the troops whom he had so
long commanded. Greatly mortified, he had begged at least to be
"permitted to go to the scene of battle." But he was ignored, as if he
were no longer of any consequence whatsoever. In plain truth it was made
perfectly obvious to him and to all the world that if General Pope could
win a victory the administration had done with General McClellan. Mr.
Lincoln described the process as a "snubbing." Naturally those who were
known to be the chief promoters of this "snubbing," and to have been
highly gratified by it, now looked ruefully on the evident necessity of
suddenly cutting it short, and requesting the snubbed individual to
assume the role of their rescuer. McClellan's more prominent enemies
could not and would not agree to this. Three members of the cabinet even
went so far as formally to put in writing their protest against
restoring him to the command of any army at all; while Stanton actually
tried to frighten the President by a petty threat of personal
consequences. But this was foolish. The crisis was of the kind which
induced Mr. Lincoln to exercise power, decisively. On this occasion his
impersonal, unimpassioned temperament left his judgment free to work
with evenness and clearness amid the whirl of momentous events and the
clash of angry tongues. No one could say that he had been a partisan
either for or against McClellan, and his wise reticence in the past gave
him in the present the privilege of untrammeled action. So he settled
the matter at once by ordering that McClellan should have command
within the defenses of Washington.
By this act the President gave extreme offense to the numerous and
strenuous band with whom hatred of the Democratic general had become a
sort of religion; and upon this occasion even Messrs. Nicolay and Hay
seem more inclined to apologize for their idol than to defend him. In
point of fact, nothing can be more misplaced than either apology or
defense, except criticism. Mr. Lincoln could have done no wiser thing.
He was simply setting in charge of the immediate business the man who
could do that especial business best. It was not a question of a battle
or a campaign, neither of which was for the moment imminent; but it was
a question of reorganizing masses of disorganized troops and getting
them into shape for battles and campaigns in the future. Only the
intensity of hatred could make any man blind to McClellan's capacity for
such work; and what he might be for other work was a matter of no
consequence just now. Lincoln simply applied to the instant need the
most effective help, without looking far afield to study remote
consequences. Two remarks, said to have been made by him at this time,
indicate his accurate appreciation of the occasion and the man: "There
is no one in the army who can man these fortifications and lick these
troops of ours into shape half so well as he can." "We must use the
tools we have; if he cannot fight himself, he excels in making others
ready to fight."
On September 1 Halleck verbally instructed McClellan to take command of
the defenses of Washington, defining this to mean strictly "the works
and their garrisons." McClellan says that later on the same day he had
an interview with the President, in which the President said that he had
"always been a friend" of the general, and asked as a favor that the
general would request his personal friends among the principal officers
of the army to give to General Pope a more sincere and hearty support
than they were supposed to be actually rendering.[31] On the morning of
September 2, McClellan says, "The President informed me that Colonel
Keelton had returned from the front; that our affairs were in a bad
condition; that the army was in full retreat upon the defenses of
Washington, the roads filled with stragglers, etc. He instructed me to
take steps at once to stop and collect the stragglers; place the works
in a proper state of defense, and go out to meet and take command of the
army, when it approached the vicinity of the works, then to place the
troops in the best position,--committing everything to my hands." By
this evidence, Mr. Lincoln intrusted the fate of the country and with it
his own reputation absolutely to the keeping of McClellan.
McClellan was in his element in fusing into unity the disjointed
fragments of armies which lay about in Virginia like scattered ruins.
His bitterest tractors have never denied him the gift of organization,
and admit that he did excellent service just now for a few days. But
circumstances soon extended his field of action, and gave detraction
fresh opportunities. General Lee, in a bold and enterprising mood,
perhaps attributable to the encouraging inefficiency of his Northern
opponents, moved up the banks of the Potomac and threatened an irruption
into Maryland and even Pennsylvania. It was absolutely necessary to
watch and, at the right moment, to fight him. For this purpose McClellan
was ordered to move along the north bank of the river, but under strict
injunctions at first to go slowly and cautiously and not to uncover
Washington. For General Halleck had not fully recovered his nerve, and
was still much disquieted, especially concerning the capital. Thus the
armies drew slowly near each other, McClellan creeping forward, as he
had been bidden, while Lee, with his usual energy, seemed able to do
with a thousand men more than any Northern general could do with thrice
as many, and ran with exasperating impunity those audacious risks which,
where they cannot be attributed to ignorance on the part of a commander,
indicate contempt for his opponent. This feeling, if he had it, must
have received agreeable corroboration from the clumsy way in which the
Federals just at this time lost Harper's Ferry, with General Miles's
garrison. The Southern troops, who had been detailed against it, rapidly
rejoined General Lee's army; and again the people saw that the South
had outmarched and outgeneraled the North.
With all his troops together, Lee was now ready to fight at the
convenience or the pleasure of McClellan, who seemed chivalrously to
have deferred his attack until his opponent should be prepared for it!
The armies were in presence of each other near where the Antietam
empties into the Potomac, and here, September 17, the bloody conflict
took place.
The battle of Antietam has usually been called a Northern victory. Both
the right and the left wings of the Northern army succeeded in seizing
advanced positions and in holding them at the end of the fight; and Lee
retreated to the southward, though it is true that before doing so he
lingered a day and gave to his enemy a chance, which was not used, to
renew the battle. His position was obviously untenable in the face of an
outnumbering host. But though upon the strength of these facts a victory
could be claimed with logical propriety, yet the President and the
country were, and had a right to be, indignant at the very
unsatisfactory proportion of the result to the means. Shortly before the
battle McClellan's troops, upon the return to them of the commander whom
they idolized, had given him a soul-stirring reception, proving the
spirit and confidence with which they would fight under his orders; and
they went into the fight in the best possible temper and condition. On
the day of the battle the Northern troops outnumbered the Southerners
by nearly two to one; in fact, the Southern generals, in their reports,
insisted that they had been simply overwhelmed by enormous odds against
which it was a marvel of gallantry for their men to stand at all. The
plain truth was that in the first place, by backwardness in bringing on
the battle, McClellan had left Lee to effect a concentration of forces
which ought never to have been permitted. Next, the battle itself had
not been especially well handled, though perhaps this was due rather to
the lack of his personal attention during its progress than to errors in
his plan. Finally, his failure, with so large an army, of which a part
at least was entirely fresh, to pursue and perhaps even to destroy the
reduced and worn-out Confederate force seemed inexplicable and was
inexcusable.
The South could never be conquered in this way. It had happened, on
September 12, that President Lincoln heard news apparently indicating
the withdrawal of Lee across the Potomac. He had at once sent it forward
to McClellan, adding: "Do not let him get off without being hurt." Three
days later, he telegraphed: "Destroy the rebel army if possible." But
McClellan had been too self-restrained in his obedience. He had, indeed,
hurt Lee, but he had been very careful not to hurt him too much; and as
for destroying the rebel army, he seemed unwilling to enter so lightly
on so stupendous an enterprise. The administration and the country
expected, and perfectly fairly expected, to see a hot pursuit of
General Lee. They were disappointed; they saw no such thing, but only
saw McClellan holding his army as quiescent as if there was nothing more
to be done, and declaring that it was in no condition to move!
It was intolerably provoking, unintelligible, and ridiculous that a
ragged, ill-shod, overworked, under-fed, and beaten body of Southerners
should be able to retreat faster than a great, fresh, well-fed,
well-equipped, and victorious body of Northerners could follow. Jackson
said that the Northern armies were, kept in too good condition; and
declared that he could whip any army which marched with herds of cattle
behind it. But the North preferred, and justly, to attribute the
inefficiency of their troops to the unfortunate temperament of the
commander. Mr. Lincoln looked at the unsatisfactory spectacle and held
his hand as long as he could, dreading perhaps again to seem too forward
in assuming control of military affairs. Patience, however, could not
endure forever, nor common sense be always subservient to technical
science. Accordingly, on October 6, he ordered McClellan to cross the
Potomac, and either to "give battle to the enemy, or to drive him
south." McClellan paid no attention to the order. Four days later the
Confederate general, Stuart, with 2000 cavalry and a battery, crossed
into Maryland and made a tour around the Northern army, with the same
insolent success which had attended his like enterprise on the
Peninsula. On October 13 the President wrote to McClellan a letter, so
admirable both in temper and in the soundness of its suggestions that it
should be given entire:--
"MY DEAR SIR,--You remember my speaking to you of what I called your
over-cautiousness. Are you not over-cautious when you assume that you
cannot do what the enemy is constantly doing? Should you not claim to be
at least his equal in prowess, and act upon the claim?
"As I understand, you telegraphed General Halleck that you cannot
subsist your army at Winchester, unless the railroad from Harper's Ferry
to that point be put in working order. But the enemy does now subsist
his army at Winchester at a distance nearly twice as great from railroad
transportation as you would have to do without the railroad last named.
He now wagons from Culpepper Court House, which is just about twice as
far as you would have to do from Harper's Ferry. He is certainly not
more than half as well provided with wagons as you are. I certainly
should be pleased for you to have the advantage of the railroad from
Harper's Ferry to Winchester; but it wastes all the remainder of autumn
to give it to you, and, in fact, ignores the question of _time_, which
cannot and must not be ignored.
"Again, one of the standard maxims of war, as you know, is 'to operate
upon the enemy's communications as much as possible without exposing
your own.' You seem to act as if this applies _against_ you, but cannot
apply in your _favor_. Change positions with the enemy, and think you
not he would break your communication with Richmond within the next
twenty-four hours? You dread his going into Pennsylvania. But if he does
so in full force, he gives up his communication to you absolutely, and
you have nothing to do but to follow and ruin him; if he does so with
less than full force, fall upon and beat what is left behind, all the
easier.
"Exclusive of the water line, you are now nearer Richmond than the enemy
is, by the route that you _can_, and he _must_ take. Why can you not
reach there before him, unless you admit that he is more than your equal
on a march? His route is the arc of a circle, while yours is the chord.
The roads are as good on yours as on his.
"You know I desired, but did not order you, to cross the Potomac below,
instead of above, the Shenandoah and Blue Ridge. The idea was that this
would at once menace the enemy's communications, which I would seize, if
he would permit. If he should move northward, I would follow him
closely, holding his communications. If he should prevent our seizing
his communications, and move towards Richmond, I would press closely to
him, fight him if a favorable opportunity should present, and at least
try to beat him to Richmond on the inside track. I say, try; if we never
try, we shall never succeed. If he makes a stand at Winchester, moving
neither north nor south, I would fight him there, on the idea that if
we cannot beat him when he bears the wastage of coming to us, we never
can when we bear the wastage of going to him. This proposition is a
simple truth, and is too important to be lost sight of for a moment. In
coming to us, he tenders us an advantage which we should not waive. We
should not so operate as to merely drive him away. As we must beat him
somewhere, or fail finally, we can do it, if at all, easier near to us
than far away. If we cannot beat the enemy where he now is, we never
can, he again being within the intrenchments of Richmond.
"Recurring to the idea of going to Richmond on the inside track, the
facility for supplying from the side away from the enemy is remarkable,
as it were by the different spokes of a wheel extending from the hub
towards the rim; and this, whether you moved directly by the chord or on
the inside arc, hugging the Blue Ridge more closely. 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. The same, only the lines
lengthened a little, if you press closer to the Blue Ridge part of the
way. The Gaps through the Blue Ridge, I understand to be about the
following distances from Harper's Ferry, to wit: Vestala, five miles;
Gregory's, thirteen; Snicker's, eighteen; Ashby's, twenty-eight;
Manassas, thirty-eight; Chester, forty-five; and Thornton's,
fifty-three. I should think it preferable to take the route nearest the
enemy, disabling him to make an important move without your knowledge,
and compelling him to keep his forces together for dread of you. The
Gaps would enable you to attack if you should wish. For a great part of
the way you would be practically between the enemy and both Washington
and Richmond, enabling us to spare you the greatest number of troops
from here. When, at length, running for Richmond ahead of him enables
him to move this way, if he does so, turn and attack him in rear. But I
think he should be engaged long before such point is reached. It is all
easy if our troops march as well as the enemy, and it is unmanly to say
they cannot do it. This letter is in no sense an order."
A general who failed to respond to such a spur as this was not the man
for offensive warfare; and McClellan did not respond. Movement was as
odious to him now as it ever had been, and by talking about shoes and
overcoats, and by other dilatory pleas, he extended his delay until the
close of the month. It was actually the second day of November before
his army crossed the Potomac. Another winter of inaction seemed about to
begin. It was simply unendurable. Though it was true that he had
reorganized the army with splendid energy and skill, and had shown to
the Northern soldiers in Virginia the strange and cheerful spectacle of
the backs of General Lee's soldiers, yet it became a settled fact that
he must give place to some new man. He and Pope were to be succeeded by
a third experiment. Therefore, on November 5, 1862, the President
ordered General McClellan to turn over the command of the army to
General Burnside; and on November 7 this was done.
This action, taken just at this time, called forth a much more severe
criticism than would have attended it if the removal had been made
simultaneously with the withdrawal from the Peninsula. By what motive
was Mr. Lincoln influenced? Not very often is the most eager search
rewarded by the sure discovery of his opinions about persons. From what
we know that he did, we try to infer why he did it, and we gropingly
endeavor to apportion the several measures of influence between those
motives which we choose to put by our conjecture into his mind; and
after our toilful scrutiny is over we remain painfully conscious of the
greatness of the chance that we have scarcely even approached the truth.
Neither diary nor letters guide us; naught save reports of occasional
pithy, pointed, pregnant remarks, evidence the most dubious, liable to
be colored by the medium of the predilections of the hearer, and to be
reshaped and misshaped by time, and by attrition in passing through many
mouths. The President was often in a chatting mood, and then seemed not
remote from his companion. Yet while this was the visible manifestation
on the surface, he was the most reticent of men as to grave questions,
and no confidant often heard his inmost thoughts. Especially it would
be difficult to name an instance in which he told one man what he
thought of another; a trifling criticism concerning some single trait
was the utmost that he ever allowed to escape him; a full and careful
estimate, never.
Such reflections come with peculiar force at this period in his career.
What would not one give for his estimate of McClellan! It would be worth
the whole great collection of characters sketched by innumerable friends
and enemies for that much-discussed general. While others think that
they know accurately the measure of McClellan's real value and
usefulness, Lincoln really knew these things; but he never told his
knowledge. We only see that he sustained McClellan for a long while in
the face of vehement aspersions; yet that he never fully subjected his
own convictions to the educational lectures of the general, and that he
seemed at last willing to see him laid aside; then immediately in a
crisis restored him to authority in spite of all opposition; and shortly
afterward, as if utterly weary of him, definitively displaced him.
Still, all these facts do not show what Lincoln thought of McClellan.
Many motives besides his opinion of the man may have influenced him. The
pressure of political opinion and of public feeling was very great, and
might have turned him far aside from the course he would have pursued if
it could have been neglected. Also other considerations have been
suggested as likely to have weighed with him,--that McClellan could do
with the army what no other man could do, because of the intense
devotion of both officers and men to him; and that an indignity offered
to McClellan might swell the dissatisfaction of the Northern Democracy
to a point at which it would seriously embarrass the administration.
These things may have counteracted, or may have corroborated, Mr.
Lincoln's views concerning the man himself. He was an extraordinary
judge of men in their relationship to affairs; moreover, of all the men
of note of that time he alone was wholly dispassionate and non-partisan.
Opinions tinctured with prejudices are countless; it is disappointing
that the one opinion that was free from prejudice is unknown.[32]
FOOTNOTES:
[28] The consolidation, and the assignment of Pope to the command, bore
date June 26, 1862.
[29] This campaign of General Pope has been the topic of very bitter
controversy and crimination. In my brief account I have eschewed the
view of Messrs. Nicolay and Hay, who seem to me if I may say it, to have
written with the single-minded purpose of throwing everybody's blunders
into the scale against McClellan, and I have adopted the view of Mr.
John C. Ropes in his volume on _The Army under Pope_, in the Campaigns
of the Civil War Series. In his writing it is impossible to detect
personal prejudice, for or against any one; and his account is so clear
and convincing that it must be accepted, whether one likes his
conclusions or not.
[30] _Own Story_, 466.
[31] Pope retained for a few days command of the army in camp outside
the defenses.
[32] McClure says: "I saw Lincoln many times during the campaign of
1864, when McClellan was his competitor for the presidency. I never
heard him speak of McClellan in any other than terms of the highest
personal respect and kindness." _Lincoln and Men of War-Times_, 207.