unsatisfactory proportion of the result to the means. Shortly before the
battle McClellan's troops, upon the return to them of the commander whom
they idolized, had given him a soul-stirring reception, proving the
spirit and confidence with which they would fight under his orders; and
they went into the fight in the best possible temper and condition. On
the day of the battle the Northern troops outnumbered the Southerners
by nearly two to one; in fact, the Southern generals, in their reports,
insisted that they had been simply overwhelmed by enormous odds against
which it was a marvel of gallantry for their men to stand at all. The
plain truth was that in the first place, by backwardness in bringing on
the battle, McClellan had left Lee to effect a concentration of forces
which ought never to have been permitted. Next, the battle itself had
not been especially well handled, though perhaps this was due rather to
the lack of his personal attention during its progress than to errors in
his plan. Finally, his failure, with so large an army, of which a part
at least was entirely fresh, to pursue and perhaps even to destroy the
reduced and worn-out Confederate force seemed inexplicable and was
inexcusable.

The South could never be conquered in this way. It had happened, on
September 12, that President Lincoln heard news apparently indicating
the withdrawal of Lee across the Potomac. He had at once sent it forward
to McClellan, adding: "Do not let him get off without being hurt." Three
days later, he telegraphed: "Destroy the rebel army if possible." But
McClellan had been too self-restrained in his obedience. He had, indeed,
hurt Lee, but he had been very careful not to hurt him too much; and as
for destroying the rebel army, he seemed unwilling to enter so lightly
on so stupendous an enterprise. The administration and the country
expected, and perfectly fairly expected, to see a hot pursuit of
General Lee. They were disappointed; they saw no such thing, but only