might not have played in fatal earnest a game which in 1864 General Early played merely for the chances. Pondering upon these things, it is probable that no array of military scientists will ever persuade the non-military world that Mr. Lincoln was so timid, or so dull-witted, or so unreasonable, as General McClellan declared him to be.
Another consideration is suggested by some remarks of Mr. Swinton. It is tolerably obvious that, whether McClellan's plan was or was not the better, the President's plan was entirely possible; all that could be said against it was that it promised somewhat poorer results at somewhat higher cost. This being the case, and in view of the fact that the President's disquietude concerning Washington was so profound and his distrust of McClellan's plan so ineradicable, it would have been much better to have had the yielding come from the general than from the President. A man of less stubborn temper and of broader intellect than belonged to McClellan would have appreciated this. In fact, it was in a certain sense even poor generalship to enter upon a campaign of such magnitude, when a thorough and hearty coöperation was really not to be expected. For after all might be ostensibly settled and agreed upon, and however honest might be Mr. Lincoln's intentions to support the commanding general, one thing still remained certain: that the safety of the capital was Mr. Lincoln's weightiest responsibility, that it
was a matter concerning which he was sensitively anxious, and that he was perfectly sure in any moment of alarm concerning that safety to insure it by any means in his power and at any sacrifice whatsoever. In a word, that which soon did happen was precisely that which ought to have been foreseen as likely to happen. For it was entirely obvious that Mr. Lincoln did not abandon his own scheme because his own reason was convinced of the excellence of McClellan's; in fact, he never was and never pretended to be thus convinced. To his mind, McClellan's reasoning never overcame his own reasoning; he only gave way before professional authority; and, while he sincerely meant to give McClellan the most efficient aid and backing in his power, the anxiety about Washington rested immovable in his thought. If the two interests should ever, in his opinion, come into competition, no one could doubt which would be sacrificed. To push forward the Peninsula campaign under these conditions was a terrible mistake of judgment on McClellan's part. Far better would it have been to have taken the Manassas route; for even if its inherent demerits were really so great as McClellan had depicted, they would have been more than offset by preserving the undiminished coöperation of the administration. The personal elements in the problem ought to have been conclusive.
An indication of the error of forcing the President into a course not commended by his judgment,
in a matter where his responsibility was so grave, was seen immediately. On March 8 he issued General War Order No. 3: That no change of base should be made "without leaving in and about Washington such a force as, in the opinion of the general-in-chief and the commanders of army corps, shall leave said city entirely secure;" that not more than two corps (about 50,000 men) should be moved en route for a new base until the Potomac, below Washington, should be freed from the Confederate batteries; that any movement of the army via Chesapeake Bay should begin as early as March 18, and that the general-in-chief should be "responsible that it moves as early as that day." This greatly aggravated McClellan's dissatisfaction; for it expressed the survival of the President's anxiety, it hampered the general, and by its last clause it placed upon him a responsibility not properly his own.
Yet at this very moment weighty evidence came to impeach the soundness of McClellan's opinion concerning the military situation. On February 27 Secretary Chase wrote that the time had come for dealing decisively with the "army in front of us," which he conceived to be already so weakened that "a victory over it is deprived of half its honor." Not many days after this writing, the civilian strategists, the President and his friends, seemed entitled to triumph. For on March 7, 8, and 9 the North was astonished by news of the evacuation of Manassas by Johnston. At once
the cry of McClellan's assailants went up: If McClellan had only moved upon the place! What a cheap victory he would have won, and attended with what invaluable "moral effects"! Yet, forsooth, he had been afraid to move upon these very intrenched positions which it now appeared that the Confederates dared not hold even when unthreatened! But McClellan retorted that the rebels had taken this backward step precisely because they had got some hint of his designs for advancing by Urbana, and that it was the exact fulfillment, though inconveniently premature, of his predictions. This explanation, however, wholly failed to prevent the civilian mind from believing that a great point had been scored on behalf of the President's plan. Further than this, there were many persons, including even a majority of the members of the Committee on the Conduct of the War, who did not content themselves with mere abuse of McClellan's military intelligence, but who actually charged him with being disaffected and nearly, if not quite, a traitor. None the less Mr. Lincoln generously and patiently adhered to his agreement to let McClellan have his own way.
Precisely at the same time that this evacuation of Manassas gave to McClellan's enemies an argument against him which they deemed fair and forcible and he deemed unfair and ignorant, two other occurrences added to the strain of the situation. McClellan immediately put his entire force
in motion towards the lines abandoned by the Confederates, not with the design of pressing the retreating foe, which the "almost impassable roads" prevented, but to strip off redundancies and to train the troops in marching. On March 11, immediately after he had started, the President issued his Special War Order No. 3: "Major-General McClellan having personally taken the field at the head of the army of the Potomac,... he is relieved from the command of the other military departments, he retaining command of the Department of the Potomac." McClellan at once wrote that he should continue to "work just as cheerfully as before;" but he felt that the removal was very unhandsomely made just as he was entering upon active operations. Lincoln, on the other hand, undoubtedly looked upon it in precisely the opposite light, and conceived that the opportunity of the moment deprived of any apparent sting a change which he had determined to make. The duties which were thus taken from McClellan were assumed during several months by Mr. Stanton. He was utterly incompetent for them, and, whether or not it was wise to displace the general, it was certainly very unwise to let the secretary practically succeed him.[[165]] The way in which, both at the East and West, our forces were distributed into many independent commands, with no competent chief who could compel all to coöperate and to become subsidiary to one comprehensive scheme, was a
serious mistake in general policy, which cost very dear before it was recognized.[[166]] McClellan had made some efforts to effect this combination or unity in purpose, but Stanton gave no indication even of understanding that it was desirable.