I ought to tell you, my son, that while Pope was illustrating the beauties of his new plan at the front, and bringing confusion on our arms, General George arrived with his good old army of the Potomac, which still loved him, still worshipped him as its hero.  And just when he was most needed, to save Pope from his disaster, the government relieved him of his command, as if to increase the confusion already prevailing.  The army felt this as a slight offered to itself, and called loudly for the restoration of its favorite general.  And then the general, whose portrait I have placed at the head of a previous chapter, and who sat in his easy chair in Washington, and brought our armies to grief, called loudly for General George to come and help him out of his trouble.  This, you will see, my son, was first tying a man’s hands, and then asking him to come and help whip a giant.

Yes, my son, there was toil and trouble enough in Washington just then; and the errors our wise men had committed were like witches rising up and haunting them.  It is said that the little bell-ringer of the State Department had his traps packed up, and ready to move; and that fear had made the burly man in the War Department civil.  Newly recruited volunteers, well fed, well clothed, and fresh looking, were marching into the city with colors flying and drums beating.  The militia, which had come to Washington to do ornamental duty for thirty days, were marching home with colors flying and drums beating.  Neither of these could give us relief in our trouble.  The nation had only the good old army of the Potomac to lean upon in this its day of trouble.  And how few of us, my son, think of this matter properly, or are willing to give the brave men, who composed that army, credit for what they had done.  Like the English, we are an exacting people, and inclined to ask too much of those who fight our battles.  Some of our public men were for forgetting what those sun-scorched, ragged, and fever-stricken heroes had done for us on the Peninsula, and even for wiping out their record of heroism.

I confess it was to me a sad and touching sight to see these soldiers, who had served their country so well, who had suffered in swamps, and fought and defeated the enemy, treated with what seemed to me criminal indifference in the very capital they had returned to save.  They muttered their discontent at the loss of their favorite commander, but were ready again to go forth, struggle with the enemy, and fight for the life of the nation.  But not a voice was raised by the government to thank them for what they had done, not a cheer to welcome their return.  You must know, my son, that the government was dumb with fear.  The ghost of its errors so haunted it that its lips were sealed.  The people looked on and saw it, in its very feebleness, asking for stronger hands to come and help it out of its trouble.