Whether they were so tightly blindfolded as not yet to see their error, is no question to be discussed here.
No sooner had the howl gone up through the North, against the General who—spite of refused re-enforcements, jealousy and intrigue behind his back, and the terrible enemy before him—had saved his army, than the Government responded to it. Large numbers of men were sent from Harrison's Landing to Acquia Creek; the Federal forces at Warrentown, Alexandria and Fredericksburg were mobilized and strengthened; and the baton of command was wrenched from the hand of McClellan to be placed in that of Major-General John Pope!
The history of this new popular hero, to this time, may be summed up by saying that he had been captain of Topographical Engineers; and that the books of that bureau showed he had prosecuted his labors with perhaps less economy than efficiency.
Rapidly promoted for unknown reasons in the western armies, the public hit upon him as the right man at last; and the complaisant Government said: "Lo! the man is here!" and made him general-in-chief of the Army of Virginia.
From the command of Pope dates a new era in the war. No longer a temperate struggle for authority, it became one for conquest and annihilation. He boldly threw off the mask that had hitherto concealed its uglier features, and commenced a systematic course of pillage and petty plundering—backed by a series of curiously bombastic and windy orders.
Calmly to read these wonderful effusions—dated from "Headquarters in the saddle"—by the light of his real deeds, one could only conceive that General Pope coveted that niche in history filled by Thackeray's O'Grady Gahagan; and that much of his reading had been confined to the pleasant rambles of Gulliver and the doughty deeds of Trenck and Munchausen.
To sober second thought, the sole reason for his advancement might seem his wonderful power as a braggart. He blustered and bragged until the North was bullied into admiration; and his sounding boasts that he had "only seen the backs of his enemies," and that he had "gone to look for the rebel, Jackson"—were really taken to mean what they said. When Pope did at last "find the rebel, Jackson," the hopeful public over the Potomac began to believe that their truculent pet might have simply paraphrased Falstaff, and cried—
"Lying and thieving have blown me up like a bladder!"
For Jackson gave the bladder a single prick, and lo! it collapsed.
Resting his wearied and shattered troops only long enough to get them again into fighting trim, General Lee prepared to check the third great advance upon Manassas. Working on the inner line and being thus better able to concentrate his strength, he left only enough troops around Richmond to delay any advance of McClellan from the Peninsula; and, before the end of July, sent Stonewall Jackson—with Ewell's, A. P. Hill's, and his own old division under General Charles S. Winder, in all about 10,000 men—to frustrate the flatulent designs of the gong-sounding commander, whose Chinese warfare was echoing so loudly from the frontier.