Before the grand review that was to be made by the President, some of McClellan’s staff, knowing that the General was a man of great endurance and expertness in the saddle, laughed at the idea of Lincoln’s attempting to keep up with him in the severe ordeal of “riding down the lines.”  “They rather hinted,” says a narrator, “that the General would move somewhat rapidly, to test Mr. Lincoln’s capacity as a rider.  There were those on the field, however, who had seen Mr. Lincoln in the saddle in Illinois; and they were confident of his staying powers.  A splendid black horse, very spirited, was selected for the President to ride.  When the time came, Mr. Lincoln walked up to the animal, and the instant he seized the bridle to mount, it was evident to horsemen that he ’knew his business.’  He had the animal in hand at once.  No sooner was he in the saddle than the coal-black steed began to prance and whirl and dance as if he was proud of his burden.  But the President sat as unconcerned and fixed to the saddle as if he and the horse were one.  The test of endurance soon came.  McClellan, with his magnificent staff, approached the President, who joined them, and away they dashed to a distant part of the field.  The artillery began to thunder, the drums beat, and the bands struck up ‘Hail to the Chief,’ while the troops cheered.  Mr. Lincoln, holding the bridle-rein in one hand, lifted his tall hat from his head, and much of the time held it in the other hand.  Grandly did Lincoln receive the salute, appearing as little disturbed by the dashing movements of the proud-spirited animal as if he had passed through such an ordeal with the same creature many times before.  Next came a further test of endurance—­a long dash over very rough untraveled ground, with here and there a ditch or a hole to be jumped or a siding to be passed.  But Mr. Lincoln kept well up to McClellan, who made good time.  Finally, the ‘riding down the lines’ was performed, amidst the flaunting of standards, the beating of drums, the loud cheering of the men and rapid discharges of artillery, startling even the best-trained horses.  Lincoln sat easily to the end, when he wheeled his horse into position to witness the vast columns march in review.  McClellan was surprised at so remarkable a display of horsemanship.  Mr. Lincoln was a great lover of the horse, and a skilled rider.  His awkwardness of form did not show in the saddle.  He always looked well when mounted.”

After the President’s return to Washington he began urging McClellan to resume active operations; desiring him to “cross the Potomac, and give battle to the enemy or drive him south.”  On the 13th of October he addressed to him the long letter quoted at the end of the preceding chapter.  Subsequent communications from the President to McClellan showed more and more impatience.  On the 25th he telegraphed:  “I have just read your despatch about sore-tongue and fatigued horses.  Will you pardon me for asking what the horses of your army have