The situation was an intolerable one--not only to the people who were
sacrificing their blood and money, but to his own inherent sense of
honor and justice. He had no right to organize and drill a mighty army
to go into winter quarters, drink and play cards, and dance while a
victorious foe flaunted their flag within sight of the Capitol.
Besides, the Western division under two obscure Generals, Grant and
Sherman, had moved in force in mid-winter and with a mere handful of men
compared to the hosts encamped in Washington had captured Fort Henry and
Fort Donelson and taken fourteen thousand prisoners. The navy had
brilliantly cooeperated on the river, and this fact only made more
painful the disgrace of the Confederate blockade of the Capital by its
half dozen batteries on the banks of the Potomac.
The President was compelled to test the ugly question of the extent and
power of General McClellan's personal support.
He returned from a tour of inspection and stood on the hilltop
overlooking McClellan's miles of tents and curling camp fires. He turned
to Mrs. Lincoln, who had accompanied him:
"You know what that is?"
"The Army of the Potomac, of course, Father."
"No!" he replied bitterly, "that's only McClellan's body guard--a
hundred and eighty thousand."
The General had persistently refused to take any suggestion from his
superior as to the movement of his army.
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