handled with great skill, and the world never saw better generalship than our George displayed.  Yes, my son, Antietam was our Waterloo, fought at a time when the nation needed a victory most; and the general who fought it ought never to be forgotten by his country.  When, then, George had gained this victory for us, had beaten and driven the enemy from all his positions, and caused the nation to rejoice, he halted to give his brave soldiers rest and repair damages.  His losses were great, and he had compassion on his soldiers, for many of them were without shoes and had little raiment.  In truth, my son, these brave, abused, and war-worn soldiers had only the well-worn shoes and clothes they had made the campaign of the Peninsula in.

George pleaded the necessity of his soldiers as a reason for his delay, and very justly.  But this pleased neither the government nor the politicians whose bitterest prejudices seemed to control it.  These gentlemen urged that he follow the enemy at once and capture him, a piece of strategy not so easily accomplished as many think.  In short, we were in no position to follow the enemy until we got shoes and raiment for our brave soldiers.  Nor could we have added much to our success by following General Lee and his men, who had an open country before them, until we were well prepared to engage them in another battle.  When, however, George got his army ready, he moved directly on the enemy, and his soldiers were in the best of spirits, for we had got General Lee and his men in a position where he would be compelled to fight another battle, with the advantages in our favor.  Now I don’t say, my son, that George would have won this battle, but by fighting it he would have exposed the enemy’s real weakness, and placed him in a very bad position.  But the government, as if more willing to promote the prejudices of politicians than to preserve the honor of our arms, resolved not to let George fight another battle.  Yes, my son, it removed him from his command, and that, too, when he was close up with the enemy, and was expecting every day to engage him in battle.  I do not remember that history records another instance where the commander of an army, that had just gained a great victory, was so disgraced by his own government.

The enemy could not have inflicted a more severe blow on our brave army than was done by this act of our own government.  A feeling of disappointment and sorrow ran through the ranks, and the brave men who had fought under and loved their commander, wept at the injustice that took him away from them.  It will, in time, be made clear, my son, that the government committed a great crime against our army by this act.  It cannot be wisdom to remove a commander, so popular with his army as George B. McClellan was, especially when that army was on the eve of a battle.  Such an act is sure to excite dissatisfaction, and dissatisfaction destroys discipline.  Nor should such a commander