The Spy of the Rebellion / Being a True History of the Spy System of the United States Army during the Late Rebellion

by Allan Pinkerton

I knew the man so well, and my confidence in his integrity and patriotism was so thorough, that a doubt of his loyalty never entered my mind. Many of my old-line abolition friends went so far as to reproach me for my steadfast adherence to McClellan, and accused me of abandoning my principles. I, however, knew my own ground, and held it. I knew that the General was not an abolitionist, but that he was not a patriot I could not believe for a moment. I have always thought, and my opinion remains unchanged to this day, that had he been left free to carry out his plans in the Peninsula campaign, the Army of the Potomac would have escaped the disasters that befell it; Richmond would have been reduced, and occupied by the Federal troops; and victory instead of defeat would have crowned their heroic efforts from the river to the rebel seat of government.

"How do you account for General McClellan's 'masterly inactivity' during all these months that his army lay at Washington?" is asked. Ah, there is the mistake. It was anything but inactivity, and it is beginning to be pretty generally understood now what he was doing at that time.

More than one writer on the campaigns of the Civil War, has taken occasion to say that the splendid achievements of the Army of the Potomac at subsequent periods, and under other commanders, were mainly due to the careful drilling and the rigid discipline inculcated under McClellan. At the time he was called to the command of the army it was nothing better than a band of disorganized men, who had not recovered from the defeat of Bull Run, and whatever efficiency it attained, was accomplished by the indefatigable efforts of General McClellan and the officers under his command.

The South, at the outbreak, was far better prepared for war than the North. For months preceding the election of Mr. Lincoln the people of the South were secretly preparing for a struggle. They had even then determined, if beaten by the ballot, to resort to the bayonet, and to decide upon the battle-field the questions which they failed to settle by fair discussion and honest legislation in the National Congress. The people of the North, on the contrary, being so long accustomed to submit to the expressed will of the majority, apprehended no danger. While they were keenly alive to the important nature of the issues presented in the campaign, they did not dream that the new party, if successful, would have a gigantic civil war on its hands as the result of its triumph in a contest peaceably decided by the silent yet all-powerful ballot. Resting in this fancied security from danger, the war was a surprise, for which they were but illy prepared.

I need not detail the situation of affairs when the news flashed over the wires that Fort Sumter was fired upon. Suffice it do say, that the South was up in arms, in full preparation almost, before the North could realize that war was at hand.

The first great battle of the war was fought, and the Union troops suffered a most humiliating defeat, falling back in disordered crowds upon Washington, and at this time General McClellan took command and brought order out of chaos.

The community did not seem to consider, or to understand, that it was necessary to spend so much time in drilling the troops and making elaborate preparations for the field. But the commanding officer was too good a general to imitate the impetuous actions of his predecessors, and to make an aggressive campaign with raw and undisciplined troops. It was in consequence of this, that months were spent in the patient and persistent task of properly organizing, drilling and equipping his men for the field, and in the spring of 1862, when the army did move, in the language of the General, it was one "from which much was to be expected."

Unfortunately, however, at the very outset, the General and the President had each matured a plan for the conduct of the war, and, in many respects, these were diametrically opposed to each other. At this point the question might be asked, whose plan should have been followed?

By the Constitution, the President is the Commander-in-Chief of all the armies and the navy of the United States, and is, of course, ex-officio, the highest military authority in the land. "But if a President disclaims all knowledge of military affairs," as President Lincoln did, "it then becomes a question how far he should defer the conduct of a war to his appointed Commander-in-Chief, who is supposed to be chosen on account of his skill and sagacity in military matters, and upon his presumed fitness for the position."

In President Lincoln's hesitation between the advice of his Generals in the field, and the views urged by his Cabinet lay the foundation of many of the blunders and mistakes of the war, the trouble being, as one writer affirms, that "instead of one mind, there were many minds influencing the management of military affairs." As the result of this there was a lack of concert and action between the two heads of the military department, and at the critical period of the campaign, McDowell's forces were held at Washington when McClellan expected him to re-enforce the army of the Potomac.