Pope had now set vigorously to work collecting and pulling together his forces, which had previously been scattered under different commanders in the north of Virginia.  He was guilty of a General Order which shocked people by its boastfulness, insulted the Eastern soldiers by a comparison with their Western comrades, and threatened harsh and most unjust treatment of the civil population of Virginia.  But upon the whole he created confidence, for he was an officer well trained in his profession as well as an energetic man.  The problem was now to effect as quickly as possible the union of Pope’s troops and McClellan’s in an overwhelming force.  Pope was anxious to keep McClellan unmolested while he embarked his men.  So, to occupy the enemy, he pushed boldly into Virginia; he pushed too far, placed himself in great danger from the lightning movements which Lee now habitually employed Jackson to execute, but extricated himself with much promptitude, though with some considerable losses.  McClellan had not been deprived of command; he was in the curious and annoying position of having to transfer troops to Pope till, for a moment, not a man remained under him, but the process of embarking and transferring them gave full scope for energy and skill.  McClellan, as it appeared to Lincoln, performed his task very slowly.  This was not the judgment of impatience, for McClellan caused the delay by repeated and perverse disobedience to Halleck’s orders.  But the day drew near when 150,000 men might be concentrated under Pope against Lee’s 55,000.  The stroke which Lee now struck after earnest consultation with Jackson has been said to have been “perhaps the most daring in the history of warfare.”  He divided his army almost under the enemy’s eyes and sent Jackson by a circuitous route to cut Pope’s communications with Washington.  Then followed an intricate tactical game, in which each side was bewildered as to the movements of the other.  Pope became exasperated and abandoned his prudence.  He turned on his enemy when he should and could have withdrawn to a safe position and waited.  On August 29 and 30, in the ominous neighbourhood of the Bull Run and of Manassas, he sustained a heavy defeat.  Then he abandoned hope before he need have done so, and, alleging that his men were demoralised, begged to be withdrawn within the defences of Washington, where he arrived on September 3, and, as was inevitable in the condition of his army, was relieved of his command.  McClellan, in Lincoln’s opinion, had now been guilty of the offence which that generous mind would find it hardest to forgive.  He had not bestirred himself to get his men to Pope.  In Lincoln’s belief at the time he had wished Pope to fail.  McClellan, who reached Washington at the crisis of Pope’s difficulties, was consulted, and said to Lincoln that Pope must be left to get out of his scrape as best he could.  It was perhaps only an awkward phrase, but it did not soften Lincoln.