Potomac where it lay, but they did think that with
a further 50,000 or 60,000 they might successfully
invade Maryland, crossing higher up the Potomac, and
by drawing McClellan away from his present position,
get a chance of defeating him. The Southern
President came to Manassas, at their invitation, on
October 1, but he did not think well to withdraw the
trained men whom he could have sent to Johnston from
the various points in the South at which they were
stationed; he may have had good reasons but it is
likely that he sacrificed one of the best chances of
the South. McClellan’s army was soon in
as good a state of preparation as Johnston’s.
Early in October McClellan had, on his own statement,
over 147,000 men at his disposal; Joseph Johnston,
on his own statement, under 47,000. Johnston
was well informed as to McClellan’s numbers—very
likely he could get information from Maryland more
easily than McClellan from Virginia. The two
armies lay not twenty-five miles apart. The
weather and the roads were good to the end of December;
the roads were practicable by March and they seem
to have been so all the time. As spring approached,
it appeared to the Southern generals that McClellan
must soon advance. Johnston thought that his
right flank was liable to be turned and the railway
communications south of Manassas liable to be cut.
In the course of February it was realised that his
position was too dangerous; the large stores accumulated
there were removed; and when, early in March, there
were reports of unusual activity in the Northern camp,
Johnston, still expecting attack from the same direction,
began his retreat. On March 9 it was learned
in Washington that Manassas had been completely evacuated.
McClellan marched his whole army there, and marched
it back. Johnston withdrew quietly behind the
Rapidan River, some 30 miles further south, and to
his surprise was left free from any pursuit.
For months past the incessant report in the papers,
“all quiet upon the Potomac,” had been
getting upon the nerves of the North. The gradual
conversion of their pride in an imposing army into
puzzled rage at its inactivity has left a deeper impression
on Northern memories than the shock of disappointment
at Bull Run. Public men of weight had been pressing
for an advance in November, and when the Joint Committee
of Congress, an arbitrary and meddlesome, but able
and perhaps on the whole useful body, was set up in
December, it brought its full influence to bear on
the President. Lincoln was already anxious enough;
he wished to rouse McClellan himself to activity, while
he screened him against excessive impatience or interference
with his plans. It is impossible to say what
was McClellan’s real mind. Quite early
he seems to have held out hopes to Lincoln that he
would soon attack, but he was writing to his wife
that he expected to be attacked by superior numbers.
It is certain, however, that he was possessed now
and always by a delusion as to the enemy’s strength.