operatives count regiments and make estimates as to their numbers and quality. The work is excessively dangerous and I am impressed by their achievements. I take Pinkerton's results and increase them by a factor that would include those regiments that cannot be found, and soldiers who cannot be seen. I am governed by the fact that the South has the capability to put a very large force into the field to confront me, and that their force outnumbers mine. Their capabilities define their potential and, thusly, their threat to us. I believe the Confederates number well in excess of two hundred thousand well-trained men, and that they are increasing daily. God only knows how large the Southern army will be when the British arrive to further strengthen it. My poor army could easily be overwhelmed.”
Nathan was astonished that McClellan would state his case so bluntly and so negatively. “I find that difficult to comprehend. In order to do what you believe. Jeff Davis would have to enlist or conscript just about every man in the Confederacy, which would ruin their economy. Then they would have to strip every garrison and send the soldiers here. I cannot imagine that they would leave New Orleans, Charleston, Mobile, and other places vulnerable.”
Nathan didn't bother to ask where the South would get the weapons and ammunition to arm such a host, or the food to feed it, or the uniforms and other accoutrements of warfare necessary for its existence. McClellan's stern expression told him not to ask.
“My duty,” McClellan announced solemnly, “is to see to the preservation of the Union. If that means I plan for the worst possible contingency, then so be it.”
“The preservation of the Union is Mr. Lincoln's goal.”
“Yet it is a vision we see differently,” McClellan said. “He wishes to bring the departed states back to the fold, while I wish to retain what we have until such time as a peace with honor can be negotiated. I have an army that cannot win in a decade, but can be defeated catastrophically in an afternoon. If my army is defeated, it may mean that the border states, which are very pro-South, might rebel and secede. Can you imagine what would happen if we lost Maryland, for instance? Washington would no longer be on the border of the Confederacy. No, she would be surrounded by it and would have to be abandoned.”
“Mr. Lincoln is adamant that you should invade the South and force her to her knees,” Nathan said. “I believe that is his definition of preserving the Union.”
“The president of the United States is a buffoon and a baboon. Surely you've noticed that he is no more fit to be president than I am to be pope. It is a tragedy that, at this most critical time in our history, we are led by a man who has no concept of reality. I sometimes wonder if Lincoln is even sane. I'm sure you've heard that he suffers from periodic fits of deep melancholy that he calls the^: hypo,' and that he is incapable of functioning for days at a time.”
“Yes, I've heard that,” Nathan said. “So what are you going to do about the invasion that is on everyone's mind?”
“And in all the newspapers,” McClellan said wryly. “What I shall do, Nathan, is quite simple. I shall give the baboon his attack, but I will act in such a manner so as to prevent disaster. We shall probe southward in force while protecting the Shenandoah from a flanking attack. I shall move west of Manassas and try to find the rebel flank. However, I will take care to ensure that I am not myself flanked.” He laughed sardonically. “It would not do for me to have the Confederates in my rear while I am in theirs. No, I would be cut off, overwhelmed, and destroyed.”
“And when you meet the rebels? What then?”
“We will fight until I feel that we are compromised. Then we shall withdraw to our defenses around Washington. At that time, I trust that the president will see the light and recognize that 'preserving the Union' means hanging on to what one has, and not grasping futilely and childishly for what one cannot have.”
“I understand,” Nathan said thoughtfully. After all the words had been spoken, the meaning was simple. General George McClellan was not going to risk victory. He was dazzled to paralysis by the fear of a Confederate army that was too large for reality.
“Is there no chance of victory, General?”
“Only if Johnston makes a serious mistake. If he does, then be assured I will pounce. But do you really think a general of Johnston's experience will make a mistake? I don't.”
“May I ask a favor of you: General?”
“Name it” McClellan said expansively. He felt that he'd found a good listener to his philosophy in Nathan.
“I would like to accompany you when you take the army south.”
“Excellent,” said McClellan. “I am honored to have you. Then you will see the truth.”
The lunch was over and they stepped outside. As they were shaking hands: a courier rode up in haste and handed McClellan a message that he opened and read. A look of surprise and dismay crossed his face
“Well well” he said thoughtfully. “It appears there has been a change in the Confederacy. Mr. Davis has replaced Joe Johnston with Robert E. Lee.”
“I must admit:” said General Scott in his library, “that I am more surprised by the timing of the act than by the act itself. I had rather assumed that Joe Johnston, the victor of Manassas, would be given another battle to prove himself.”
Scott sipped his brandy. “On the other hand, it is the correct decision. General Lee will prove the greater menace to McClellan than Johnston.”
“I don't understand,” said Nathan. He had a snifter of scotch whiskey and was puffing on a Cuban cigar. Both were acquired tastes: and at the moment he was damned glad he'd acquired them.
“Did you know either of the three men?”
“I shook Jefferson Davis's hand once: and I met Johnston when he was with the First Cavalry,” Nathan said. “I cannot say I actually know either man at all. Lee I never met.”
Scott smiled. “Of course, I knew them all. Davis is the most important, of course. He is a West Point graduate, served in the army, and fought with distinction in the Mexican War. Later, he served as both a U.S. senator and as secretary of war. Along with having a keen intellect, he is a very strong and stubborn man, which can be advantageous when trying to form a new nation out of fractious pieces. He is blunt and easy to dislike. He is also aggressive, which General Johnston is not.
“Johnston is very cautious. I knew him well when he served as my quartermaster general in 1860. He is undeniably brave and smart, but his plans for defending the South against McClellan would not meet with Davis's blessing, nor would they stand the criticism that would be heaped upon them.”
“And why not?” Nathan asked.
“Presume that you lead an army that is vastly outnumbered, but confronted by a timid general who thinks otherwise. What would you do?”
Nathan pondered. “I would fall back and bleed the enemy in a hundred skirmishes. I would not risk a major battle in which the disparity in numbers would be found out.”
“And that is just what Johnston doubtless suggested.” Scott said. “And it is excellent strategy. However, that was his downfall. When the South placed its capital tauntingly close to Washington, it made the seventy-mile corridor between Richmond and Washington the focus of the war. In short, General Johnston had very little room to retreat, maneuver, and bleed his confused enemy. Seventy miles can be covered in an easy week's marching by an unopposed army, although the miserable winter roads and trails will make that journey far longer. I wonder if Johnston proposed evacuating Richmond? Certainly he could not permit himself to be cornered and trapped in a siege. If the Confederacy had kept its capital at Montgomery, Alabama, then Johnston might have been permitted to tease McClellan, playing fox to his hounds, for a couple of hundred irrelevant miles. McClellan would have had to garrison points in his rear, which would have bled off his numbers, and his supply lines would have been vulnerable to cavalry raids.
“After a while, the Union army would consist of a spear with a very small point and a very long shaft. It would be broken easily and rolled up back from whence it came. No, Johnston was betrayed by geography, as well as the warrior code of the Southern male, and not by his own military skills. Please recall that I came from Virginia and understand fully that retreating in the face of an invading enemy is something Southern men will not do without first being totally and utterly defeated. The failure to recognize that fact is why Joe Johnston is awaiting reassignment and Robert E. Lee commands in his stead.”
“And what will Lee do differently?” Nathan asked as he refilled both men's glasses.
