and afterward restored. But the judgment of his most thoughtful comrades was, that he was dealt with too leniently-many have always held he ought to have been "shot to death with musketry"-and they have regretfully seen little since in his "newly-discovered evidence,” so called, to change their opinions. So, McClellan's telegrams and letters to both Lincoln and Stanton, from the Peninsula and afterward, bordered on insubordination, not to say mutiny; and how the President and Secretary endured their disrespect, not to say insolence, will astonish and amaze our future historians.1

Nevertheless, Pope was defeated, and now what was to be done? Poor Kearny had fallen at Chantilly, the idol of his division and the pride of the Army. Had he lived, doubtless he would have succeeded Pope. But Burnside was held inadequate, Hooker and Meade had not yet approved themselves; and so, as a dernier ressort, McClellan was allowed to drift into the command again. Then came Antietam-only a drawn battle, when it should have been a great and complete victory. By singular good luck (or kindly providence), Lee's "plan of campaign" fell into McClellan's hands;2 and had he moved with celerity, Lee's army would have been struck while badly scattered, and beaten in detail-easily, if not overwhelmingly. But "Little Mac" sauntered along up into Maryland, at the rate of five or ten miles a day, after his manner, when he ought to have marched twenty or thirty; and when finally he struck the Confederates they had pulled themselves together, and just missed whipping him.

Nevertheless, Antietam was a victory, after a sort― Lee yielding the field at night and retiring into Virginia. It served to rehabilitate "Little Mac," and kept him in

1 See Appendix, p. 361.

2 War Records, vol. xix, part 2, p. 281. Comte de Paris, vol. ii, p. 318.

command until his extraordinary delay afterward (when he ought to have been whacking and hammering away at Lee's retreating army) finally exhausted the patience of President Lincoln even, and relegated our "Young Napoleon" to the peaceful lines of Trenton, N. J., whence, singularly, he never emerged. In 1864, Grant, indeed, thought somewhat of calling him to a command again; but it never materialized.

And yet General McClellan was a brave man, a Christian gentleman, and an American of fine parts in many ways. I myself have seen him calm and erect and cheery in exposed positions, amidst a very storm of shot and shell, while everybody else was seeking cover. Notably did this occur on the left at Fair Oaks, Wednesday, June 25, 1862. There was a reconnoissance in force that day, chiefly by Hooker, to feel the enemy and advance our picket line. It was a superb June morning, with a slight breeze among the trees. The spectacle was magnificent, as Hooker swept down across the fields, his line half a mile long, his colors streaming in the breeze, his bayonets glittering in the sunlight; but without a drumbeat. The movement cost us, first and last, about three hundred men in killed and wounded, and resulted in nothing-a piece of useless slaughter-our line returning to where it started from. But, in the midst of our advance, McClellan and his staff (including the French princes)1 rode over from headquarters, to view the affair from a redoubt to the left of the Williamsburg Road-called redoubt No. 3. Here also were General Heintzelman, and many staff officers of the Third Corps-myself included. The Confederates, from a lookout station on some lofty tree, saw

1 They joined the Army of the Potomac in the autumn or winter of 1861, and left and returned to France soon after we reached Harrison's Landing, in July, 1862. "Rats leave a sinking ship," and evidently these gallant young Frenchmen did not want to be there, if the Army was going to be captured. Clearly they had lost faith in "Little Mac!"

this gathering of officers at redoubt No. 3, and soon began paying their compliments to us in the shape of shot and shell. At first the shells fell short or passed over us, exploding harmlessly in the air, or went wide of the redoubt. But presently they got our range, and pretty soon shell after shell came screaming straight at the redoubt, and every officer dodged or fell flat or leaped down into the ditch, except McClellan, who sat erect on the parapet, smoking a cigar and laughing heartily at our various misadventures. Fortunately the shells burst without injuring anybody; but McClellan's conduct throughout was fine, and nobody doubted his courage afterward.

Indeed, McClellan was popular with the army, as a whole, down to the very last. His manners were simple and unaffected. He was always in uniform, but readily approachable. His personal life and character were beyond reproach. He read Latin and Greek well, and spoke both French and Spanish like a native. He was

a very connoisseur in art. He knew all West Point could teach him,,and indeed was an adept in all branches of the military profession, except the last and most important one of all, and that is, how to fight and conquer.

As an organizer, and drillmaster, and disciplinarian, we did not produce McClellan's equal during the war. The Army of the Potomac was far and away the best drilled and disciplined and equipped army we had. But there he seems to have ended-with no power of getting on his legs and marching straight after the enemy and whipping him. He never knew when to take the initiative, and lacked aggressiveness and fighting energy; and so he never "got there," when he ought to have won every time, or nearly so. He never seemed to know the value of time—a vital element in campaigns and battles. He always underestimated himself, and overestimated

his antagonist'-a capital mistake in military affairs. And so he finally acquired the sobriquet of McClellan the Unready, or our Little Napoleon.

I think history will declare, when she comes to sum him up finally, that he would have made an excellent. Chief of Staff or perhaps a good Corps commander. But as commander in chief of the army, where he had to think and plan and act for himself and compel others to act, and where at times he had to take tremendous risks, clearly he was not a success; and it is amazing how tender contemporary history has been of him and his deeds, or rather want of deeds-if not misdeeds.

As a candidate for the Presidency against Abraham Lincoln, he was, of course, a war man on a peace platform; and bound to be defeated, after the signal success of Sherman at Atlanta, and the brilliant victories of Sheridan in the Valley. As Governor of New Jersey he did fairly well. His administration, of course, was free from scandals; but it was marked by the same limitations as his army career, and not even his best friends accounted him a Napoleon in civil affairs.

I regret to say these plain things of my first commander he was so good a soldier and so nice a gentleman. But I must state the truth of history, as we then lived and made it; and this is how General McClellan always impressed me (and many others of his comrades) in those historic war days. Our Southern friends still account him the "greatest Yankee general." But when you ask them how soon he would have conquered their rebellion, and ended our war for the Union, they only look wise and venture no reply.

His losses on the Peninsula were certainly appalling;

1 As at Yorktown and Fair Oaks, where he reported the Confederates as 120,000 to 180,000 or 200,000 strong, when they never had half that number. Where were his spies and scouts, and Secret Service funds? Comte de Paris, vol. ii, p. 83; McClellan's Own Story, P. 437, 442, 444, etc.; War Records, vol. vi. part 1, p. 28-51, etc.; vol. xi, part 3, p. 71, 86, 102, 115, 143, 259 266, 280, 281, 282, 286, 292, 299, 315, 338. A good many references, but very interesting reading!

but it appears difficult to present them accurately. His "Official Report," August 4, 1863, does not agree with his "Army Returns" in 1862; and the War Department does not seem able to give the facts precisely. At least, this is the reply I received to two different letters sent there in February, 1898. He reached the Peninsula April 2, 1862. His "Return" for April 30, 1862 (before Yorktown), shows his strength present for duty, including Franklin's division (still on transports), as 112,392; his special duty, sick, and in arrest, 5,850; being a total of 118,242 present, besides 12,136 absent, making a total aggregate of 130,378. About June 12 he was reinforced by McCall's division of Pennsylvania Reserves, 9,501 strong, increasing his total to 139,879.

His losses, in action, April 5 to June 24, including Yorktown, Williamsburg, Fair Oaks, etc., were 1.513 killed, 5,746 wounded, and 1,217 captured or missing; a total of 8,476. His losses, in action, from June 25 to August 23 (the date he left the Peninsula), including the "Seven Days' Battle," etc., is given by the War Department as 1,750 killed, 8, 122 wounded, and 6,100 captured or missing; a total of 15,972. This would make his total losses, in action, 24,448.

His "Tri-Monthly Return" for July 10, 1862 (at Harrison's Landing),1 gives his present for July as 99,776, and his total aggregate (present and absent) as 157,038. Add to this "99,776 present," his losses in action, as above given, and we have a total of 124,224. But his total strength on the Peninsula, or men received in all while there, as above given, was 139,879; which would leave only 15,655 as his losses from sickness and disease. This seems small, when one remembers our frightful sickness both at Yorktown and Fair Oaks, as well as Harrison's Landing. However, even this

1 War Records, vol. xi, part 3, p. 312.