At the White House, shortly after the battle of Bull Run, the old veteran, after listening to criticisms directed at the President for permitting the Union army to suffer defeat, broke out in his wrath,—

"Sir, I am the greatest coward in America. I will prove it. I fought this battle, sir, against my judgment; I think the President of the United States ought to remove me to-day for doing it. As God is my judge, after my superiors had determined to fight it, I did all in my power to make the army efficient. I deserve removal because I did not stand up when my army was not in a condition for fighting and resist to the last."

"Your conversation seems to imply that I forced you to fight this battle," suggested the President.

"I have never served a President who has been kinder to me than you have been," replied the general, avoiding the question.

The battle of Bull Run was fought to gratify the politicians. It was the only time the President yielded to public clamor, and he always regretted it. It was a political movement. When he assembled a council of war five days previous, the commanders declared that they had force enough to overcome the enemy; but General Scott was positive that such a victory could not be decisive, and advised a postponement of active hostilities for a few months until the army could be placed in a better condition. The Cabinet and the military committees of Congress feared that public sentiment in the North would not consent to the delay, and that the Confederate leaders would make such good use of it that the results of an offensive movement would be more doubtful then than now, hence an order for the advance was given. The President did not rebuke General Scott for his indignant outbreak, because he felt that his words were true.

The President suffered great anxiety during that eventful Sunday, but exhibited his usual self-control, and attended church with Mrs. Lincoln. After his noon dinner he walked over to the head-quarters of the army, where he found General Scott taking a nap, and woke him up to ask his opinion. The old gentleman was not only hopeful but confident, for one of his aides had arrived with a report that General McDowell was driving everything before him. The President's mind was relieved and about four o'clock he went out to drive. At six o'clock Secretary Seward staggered over the threshold of the White House and nervously asked for the President. When told that he was driving, he whispered to the private secretary,—

"Tell no one, but the battle is lost; McDowell is in full retreat, and calls on General Scott to save the capital."

When the President drove up to the portico a few minutes later he listened in silence to the message, but his head hung low as he crossed the White House grounds to head-quarters. There the disaster was confirmed, and he conferred long and anxiously with General Scott and Secretary Cameron as to the next duty. Towards midnight he returned to the White House and heard the accounts of members of Congress and others who had gone out to witness the battle. His long frame lay listlessly upon a couch, but his mind was active, his calmness and resolution had not been disturbed, and before he slept that night he had planned the reorganization of the army, and from that time undertook the direction of military as well as civil and diplomatic affairs; consulting freely with Senators and Representatives and officers of the army as he did with his constitutional advisers, but relying upon his own judgment more and more.

A gleam of hope arose in his mind that he might be relieved of much detail by George B. McClellan, a brilliant young officer, who had been called to Washington and appointed a major-general.

McClellan was a graduate of West Point, had served with distinction in the Mexican War, had been a member of a military commission to inspect the armies of Europe, had observed the conduct of the Crimean War, had been engaged in various scientific and diplomatic duties, had resigned from the army to become Chief Engineer of the Illinois Central Railroad when only thirty-one years old, was elected its Vice-President at thirty-two, and made President of the Ohio and Mississippi Railroad when he was thirty-four. He had made a brief but dashing campaign in West Virginia, and was credited with saving that State to the Union. His brilliant professional attainments, the executive ability he had displayed in railway management, combined with attractive personal qualities and influential social connections, made him the most conspicuous officer in the Union army and naturally excited the confidence of the President, who gave him a cordial welcome and intrusted him with the most responsible duties, making him second only to General Scott in command.