serviceable hands, and a willing spirit. When it is remembered that the carriages and teams belonging to the army, stretched out in one line, would have reached nearly forty miles, we can understand that nothing could have insured their safe removal in the face of an enemy but that universal training of the brain and hand found among a people who are all taught to handle indifferently the pen, the axe, the gun, and the spade.

The general in command, when the James River had been reached, had a right to look around with just pride upon the army now sheltered and safe. On the 28th, in the bitterness of his soul, he had said, in a telegraphic message to the Secretary of War, "If I save this army now, I tell you plainly that I owe no thanks to you, or to any other persons in Washington. You have done your best to sacrifice this army." That army he had saved; and the army was conscious of it. But there was nothing of triumph in his own mind; for their safety had been won at fearful cost. Our killed, wounded, and missing from the 26th of June to the 1st of July reached the mournful aggregate of fifteen thousand. Of the sick and wounded, many had of necessity been left behind, but with a proper complement of surgeons and attendants and a bountiful supply of rations and medical stores.

And there was another consideration which might have deepened the sadness of his mind, if he had allowed his thoughts to dwell upon it at such a moment. He had conducted an important movement with a skill and success which an intelligent

military judgment could understand and appreciate; but still that movement was a retreat. This was the great fact present to the public mind. He had been compelled to abandon his position before Richmond; the place was not taken: he was a general in command of a large army, and had failed to accomplish the object of his own hopes. The facts and events which had rendered a retrograde movement necessary required some reflection to make them understood and some candor to make them felt. His knowledge of human nature, and of the bitterness and unscrupulousness of party, was enough to reveal to him the harsh judgments, the misconstructions, the injustice, the cruel insinuations, the calumnious charges, to which he had exposed himself by the crime of failure,—that crime which the public is so slow to forgive. He must have foreseen how the pert phrase-makers of the landwho conduct campaigns so admirably in their armchairs, and dispose of brigades and divisions as easily as they fold and label their letters-would strive to mangle him with their pens,-weapons more cruel than the tiger's claw or the serpent's tooth,— and point out what he should have done, and should not have done, to have escaped the shame and disgrace of retreating before a rebel foe. Sir John Moore, dying in the arms of victory at the close of a successful retreat, said, "I hope the people of England will be satisfied: I hope my country will do me justice." His country, in time, did justice to that great man. Sooner or later, the world comes round to see the truth and do the right;

and for the coming of that time General McClellan can afford to wait.

But the saddest of all experiences for a commanding general is to lose the confidence of his army. That cup was never put to General McClellan's lips. His soldiers were intelligent enough to understand what he had done, and generous enough to be grateful to him for it. They had witnessed his toils and exposures, his calm self-reliance, his resolute front, his unaltered brow: they had seen him perplexed but not cast down, anxious but not despairing. The approach of danger, the burden of responsibility, had called forth reserved powers and unrevealed energies. Their common perils, their common labors, the trying scenes they had passed through, the safety they had secured, had created new ties of sympathy between the commanding general and his noble army. No muttered curses fell upon his ear, no sullen, averted countenances met his eye; but, as he rode along their lines, shouts of welcome instead, and faces glowing with honest joy, passed a judgment upon his course that enabled him to meet with composure the sneers of the scoffer, the malice of partisan falsehood, and the rash censures of presumptuous half-knowledge.

CHAPTER IX.

THE history of the Army of the Potomac during the months of July and August, 1862, may be told in a few words. During their retrograde movement to the banks of the James, they had been fearfully weakened by losses in killed, wounded, and prisoners; but they were not in the least demoralized. They had conducted themselves in a way to move the admiration and win the gratitude of their commander; and from a full heart, on the 4th of July, he issued to them the following admirable and heartful address:

"HEAD-QUARTERS ARMY OF THE POTOMAC,

CAMP NEAR HARRISON'S LANDING, July 4, 1862.

"SOLDIERS OF THE ARMY OF THE POTOMAC:-Your achievements of the last ten days have illustrated the valor and endurance of the American soldier. Attacked by superior forces, and without hope of reinforcements, you have succeeded in changing your base of operations by a flank movement, always regarded as the most hazardous of military expedients. You have saved all your material, all your trains and all your guns, except a few lost in battle, taking in return guns and colors from the enemy. Upon your march, you have been assailed day after day, with desperate fury, by men of the same race and nation, skilfully massed and led. Under every disadvantage of number, and necessarily of position also, you have in every conflict beaten back your foes with enormous slaughter. Your conduct ranks you among the celebrated ar

mies of history. No one will now question that each of you may always with pride say, 'I belong to the Army of the Potomac.' You have reached the new base, complete in organization and unimpaired in spirit. The enemy may at any moment attack you. We are prepared to meet them. I have personally established your lines. Let them come, and we will convert their repulse into a final defeat. Your Government is strengthening you with the resources of a great people. On this, our nation's birthday, we declare to our foes, who are rebels against the best interests of mankind, that this army shall enter the capital of the so-called Confederacy, that our national Constitution shall prevail, and that the Union, which can alone insure internal peace and external security to each State, 'must and shall be preserved,' cost what it may in time, treasure, and blood.

"GEORGE B. MCCLELLAN."

The high spirit which breathes through this address, animates also his communications with the Government at Washington. He informs the President, in a despatch of July 7, that his men were in splendid spirits and "anxious to try it again;" and in this anxiety he himself distinctly shared.

Having a brief interval of comparative leisure, he drew up and addressed to the President a letter, under date of July 7, containing certain views regarding the conduct of the war, which, in his judgment, were essential to its objects and success. The letter is as follows:

"HEAD-QUARTERS ARMY OF THE POTOMAC,

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CAMP NEAR HARRISON'S LANDING, VA., July 7, 1862. "MR. PRESIDENT:-You have been fully informed that the rebel army is in our front, with the purpose of over