It was in December, 1861, that Congress created the famous Committee on the Conduct of the War, to some of whose doings it has already been necessary to allude. The gentlemen who were placed upon it were selected partly of course for political
reasons, and were all men who had made themselves conspicuous for their enthusiasm and vehemence; not one of them had any military knowledge. The committee magnified its office almost beyond limit,—investigated everything; haled whom it chose to testify before it; made reports, expressed opinions, insisted upon policies and measures in matters military; and all with a dictatorial assumption and self-confidence which could not be devoid of effect, although every one knew that each individual member was absolutely without fitness for this business. So the committee made itself a great power, and therefore also a great complication, in the war machinery; and though it was sometimes useful, yet, upon a final balancing of its long account, it failed to justify its existence, as, indeed, was to have been expected from the outset.[[155]] In the present discussions concerning an advance of the army, its members strenuously insisted upon immediate action, and their official influence brought much strength to that side.
The first act indicating an intention on the part of the President to interfere occurred almost simultaneously with the beginning of the general's illness. About December 21, 1861, he handed to McClellan a brief memorandum: "If it were determined to make a forward movement of the army
of the Potomac, without awaiting further increase of numbers or better drill and discipline, how long would it require to actually get in motion? After leaving all that would be necessary, how many troops could join the movement from southwest of the river? How many from northeast of it?" Then he proceeded briefly to hint rather than distinctly to suggest that plan of a direct advance by way of Centreville and Manassas, which later on he persistently advocated. Ten days elapsed before McClellan returned answers, which then came in a shape too curt to be respectful. Almost immediately afterward the general fell ill, an occurrence which seemed to his detractors a most aggravating and unjustifiable intervention of Nature herself in behalf of his policy of delay.
On January 10 a dispatch from General Halleck represented in his department also a condition of check and helplessness. Lincoln noted upon it: "Exceedingly discouraging. As everywhere else, nothing can be done." Yet something must be done, for the game was not to be abandoned. Under this pressure, on this same day, he visited McClellan, but could not see him; nor could he get any definite idea how long might be the duration of the typhoid fever, the lingering and uncertain disease which had laid the general low. Accordingly he summoned General McDowell and General Franklin to discuss with him that evening the military situation. The secretaries of state and of the treasury, and the assistant secretary of
war, also came. The President, says McDowell, "was greatly disturbed at the state of affairs," "was in great distress," and said that, "if something was 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 were directed to inform themselves concerning the "actual condition of the army," and to come again the next day. Conferences followed on January 11 and 12, Postmaster-General Blair and General Meigs being added to the council. The postmaster-general condemned a direct advance as "strategically defective," while Chase descanted on the "moral power" of a victory. The picture of the two civilians injecting their military suggestions is not reassuring. Meigs is somewhat vaguely reported to have favored a "battle in front."
McDowell and Franklin had not felt justified in communicating these occurrences to McClellan, because the President had marked his order to them "private and confidential." But the commander heard rumors of what was going forward,[[156]] and on January 12 he came from his sick-room to see the President; he was "looking quite well," and apparently was "able to assume the charge of the army." The apparition put a different complexion upon the pending discussions. On the 13th the same gentlemen met, but now with the
addition of General McClellan. The situation was embarrassing. McClellan took scant pains to conceal his resentment. McDowell, at the request of the President, explained what he thought could be done, closing "by saying something apologetic;" to which McClellan replied, "somewhat coldly if not curtly: 'You are entitled to have any opinion you please.'" Secretary Chase, a leader among the anti-McClellanites, bluntly asked the general to explain his military plans in detail; but McClellan declined to be interrogated except by the President, or by the secretary of war, who was not present. Finally, according to McClellan's account, which differs a little but not essentially from that of McDowell, Mr. Lincoln suggested[[157]] that he should tell what his plans were. McClellan replied, in substance, that this would be imprudent and seemed unnecessary, and that he would only give information if the President would order him in writing to do so, and would assume the responsibility for the results.[[158]] McDowell adds (but McClellan does not), that the President then asked McClellan "if he had counted upon any particular time; he did not ask what that time was, but had he in his own mind any particular time fixed, when a movement could be commenced. He replied, he had. 'Then,' rejoined the President,
'I will adjourn this meeting.'" This unfortunate episode aggravated the discord, and removed confidence and coöperation farther away than ever before.
The absence of the secretary of war from these meetings was due to the fact that a change in the War Department was in process contemporaneously with them. The President had been allowed to understand that Mr. Cameron did not find his duties agreeable, and might prefer a diplomatic post. Accordingly, with no show of reluctance, Mr. Lincoln, on January 11, 1862, offered to Mr. Cameron the post of minister to Russia. It was promptly accepted, and on January 13 Edwin M. Stanton was nominated and confirmed to fill the vacancy.[[159]] The selection was a striking instance of the utter absence of vindictiveness which so distinguished Mr. Lincoln, who, in fact, was simply insensible to personal feeling as an influence. In choosing incumbents for public trusts, he knew no foe, perhaps no friend; but as dispassionately as if he were manoeuvring pieces on a chessboard, he considered only which available piece would serve best in the square which he had to fill. In 1859 he and Stanton had met as associate counsel in perhaps the most important lawsuit in which Mr. Lincoln had ever been concerned, and Stanton had treated Lincoln with his habitual insolence.[[160]]