In short, we were in no position to follow the enemy until we got
shoes and raiment for our brave soldiers. Nor could we have added
much to our success by following General Lee and his men, who had an
open country before them, until we were well prepared to engage them
in another battle. When, however, George got his army ready, he
moved directly on the enemy, and his soldiers were in the best of
spirits, for we had got General Lee and his men in a position where
he would be compelled to fight another battle, with the advantages
in our favor. Now I don't say, my son, that George would have won
this battle, but by fighting it he would have exposed the enemy's
real weakness, and placed him in a very bad position. But the
government, as if more willing to promote the prejudices of
politicians than to preserve the honor of our arms, resolved not to
let George fight another battle. Yes, my son, it removed him from
his command, and that, too, when he was close up with the enemy, and
was expecting every day to engage him in battle. I do not remember
that history records another instance where the commander of an
army, that had just gained a great victory, was so disgraced by his
own government.

The enemy could not have inflicted a more severe blow on our brave
army than was done by this act of our own government. A feeling of
disappointment and sorrow ran through the ranks, and the brave men
who had fought under and loved their commander, wept at the
injustice that took him away from them. It will, in time, be made
clear, my son, that the government committed a great crime against
our army by this act. It cannot be wisdom to remove a commander, so
popular with his army as George B. McClellan was, especially when
that army was on the eve of a battle. Such an act is sure to excite
dissatisfaction, and dissatisfaction destroys discipline. Nor should