Greeley marked the points of military concentration in the East and Northwest with lithographs of the Free State and Confederate Union flags. He also had reports that the Confederates were reinforcing their forts on the Pacific Coast in order to make certain of their hold on that region. He marked the Pacific Coast with Confederate Union lithographs. He placed a Free State lithograph over Kansas out on the frontier to show that the Free Staters were bolstering their forces there to prevent the Confederates from picking it off with incursions from Missouri and Texas.
Greeley considered showing the military buildup beyond the national borders. In Mexico the French had moved their army inland from Veracruz and into siege lines around Mexico City. In other circumstances this affront to the Monroe Doctrine would have meant war with the United States, but of course the Americans were too busy making war on each other at the moment to concern themselves with anybody else.
Up in the Canadas the British were augmenting their squadron at Halifax and reinforcing their border forts that had deteriorated into crumbling piles of brick during decades of peace with the United States. Greeley thought that the British would want to steer clear of any direct involvement in the American War, but they were wise to take precautions to prevent it from spilling across their borders. Greeley decided not to display the French and British forces as that would distract his readers from the main conflict between the Confederate Union and the Free States.
Now he needed to decide on a name for the war. The Free Staters were calling it The War of Free State Independence. The Confederates were calling it The Civil War, given their view that it was an insurrection by the Republican Party rather than a war with the Free States as a nation. Greeley thought for a while then decided that the best name for the conflict would be the Confederate Union War. People on both sides could read what ever they want to into that name.
Greeley felt the tension in his head easing. He lay down and stretched out on his office couch. A fresh breeze stirred the curtains, bringing a touch of cooler air from the sea. He closed his eyes and dozed, satisfied that he had done enough editorial work for this day.
2
Baltimore, August 5, 1861
Confederate Union Secretary of War George McClellan and Assistant Secretary of War Edwin Stanton looked out over the northern outskirts of Baltimore and into the fields where the Confederate Union militiamen returning from Gettysburg were camped. A drizzle mist blew in off the Chesapeake, washing the sweat off the men who sauntered briskly about on their errands.
McClellan smelled hot rations cooking in the commissary wagons. He saw sacks of mail being taken to company headquarters for distribution. That took care of two of the most important things necessary to restore the morale of a defeated army.
The other important thing was to keep the men busy. Most were at work building fortifications around the front of the camp and digging sanitary trenches on its far side. Lee was a military engineer. The fortifications showed his expert eye for terrain. Entrenchments were being dug at the base of ridges of high ground. Firing pits and artillery were being mounted on the high ground. Beyond the entrenchments alert sentries stood watch.
“These men don’t look beaten, do they?” McClellan asked rhetorically.
“I was thinking the same,” Stanton answered. “Lee isn’t allowing his men idle time to brood over their defeat. He’s getting them ready to fight the next battle.”
McClellan nodded. “That’s our ‘Bobby Lee.’ Any other general would be busy writing letters blaming others for the defeat. Lee doesn’t waste his time on that prattle. If anybody asks he will say, ‘It was all my fault. My men weren’t beaten. They were out-generalled.’ That’s the mark of a true leader.”
McClellan and Stanton walked toward the encampment. McClellan asked a lieutenant directions to Lee’s headquarters. They were directed to the guest house of a planation about a mile behind the camp.
“It is evident that you’ve restored order here!” said McClellan to Lee after greetings were exchanged.
“Yes,” replied Lee, “We must instill proper military discipline in these men before committing them again to battle. I’ve sent Colonel Jackson on to Wilmington to get those men organized as well.”
Lee’s expression stiffened. “I must also inform you that I’m recalling Beauregard’s command from West Point. I hate to give it up, but we won’t be able to hold it with the enemy bringing up heavy artillery in preparation for another assault. I’d rather abandon the institution intact than see it wrecked by fighting. In any case it makes no sense to sacrifice men in holding a position merely for prestige. I’m reassigning the men and equipment to New York City.”
“Giving up the post will give the Rebels another point to crow about,” McClellan acknowledged. “But it is strategically sterile. As you say it makes no sense to sacrifice its garrison. My only regret is that the press will see this as another defeat whose blame rests on you.”
“I’m pleased to receive all the blame they allocate to me. I am better able to bear it than are some others.”
McClellan nodded. Few generals in any army accepted blame graciously. Lee’s willingness to accept it, including the share that rightfully belonged to others, was a pillar of his greatness.
“The President and I regret having thrust you into field command of this department before the men were sufficiently trained,” McClellan said. “But we felt that if there was any chance at all of breaking the insurgency with one decisive campaign the risk would be justified.”
“The risk was justified,” Lee replied. “After all, the enemy was no better trained than us. The difference was that Fremont panicked our men with his unexpected attack before we could panic the enemy with ours! But now we have cavalry too. And, as you can see, our men are being trained to set out pickets in advance of our lines. We shall not be caught napping again.”
“I’m sure you’ll have the men prepared for all contingencies.” McClellan grinned. “And now for some good news: You are hereby relieved as General-in-Chief of the Armies. As soon as you have settled your dispositions here you may transfer back to the Department of the West.” McClellan handed Lee the copy of the relief order. “Please don’t take it too hard!”
Lee smiled. “Well, I already knew as much by reading the newspapers! The newspaper editors ‘relieved’ me from command before the President did. And I am happy to be out of that position. That job requires someone who will sit at the President’s side night and day, advising him of developments in all the departments. I am honored to serve my country in whatever capacity needed, but I am a field commander, not a staff officer.”
“The President and I finally figured that out,” McClellan acknowledged. “It was only because the President valued your insights so much that he tried to make you both.”
Lee nodded in acceptance of the compliment.
“Your reassignment to command the field armies of the Department of the West will not be immediately announced,” McClellan explained. “The President regrets the appearances of your being relieved without announcing your reassignment, but we want the Rebels to believe that you are out of the war. That gives us all the more chance of surprising them when you strike. Please don’t take offense at this secrecy.”
“Offense must never be taken in the service of one’s country,” responded Lee.
McClellan put his arm on Lee’s shoulder. “Your sense of duty to your country before thinking of yourself inspires all of us to do our utmost duty too.”