Battery L, 1st Artillery Regiment (Light) - George Breck Columns: Chapter 13: “A Sad Sorrowful Day” McClellan Is Relieved Of Command Nov. 11, 1862

Despite Breck’s optimistic reports about the army’s movements, McClellan had once again moved too slowly. Lee was able to position Longstreet’s corps between McClellan and Richmond. It was the last straw. Lincoln, tired of trying to “bore with an auger too dull to take hold,” replaced McClellan with Gen. Ambrose Burnside on Nov. 7. (1)

In Camp near Warrenton, Va.
November 11, 1862
(Appeared Saturday, Nov. 22, 1862)

Dear Union: -- What next? We little thought when we last wrote, four or five days ago, that the great army of the Potomac was to lose its beloved, trusted, admired, almost idolized Commander-in-Chief, and that he, “under whose care” this magnificent army had “grown up,” was about to part from it for good.

For good! Time may determine differently. Gen. Geo. B. McClellan is removed. Gen. Burnside is now in command of the army of the Potomac. An order of the President deposed the one and installed the other.

Your readers may know the cause of this important change. We do not as yet. We have made diligent inquiry about the matter, but all to little purpose. We have been informed that in consequence of McClellan’s neglecting to guard or fortify the mountain passes or gaps, after taking them from rebel hands, and as a secret of this so-called negligence, a large number of wagons containing army supplies has been captured and many Federal soldiers have been taken prisoners in consequence of this very unstrategic movement – Gen. McClellan, we are told, has demonstrated himself at last to be a “failure,” to be wanting in some of the most essential requisites of a skillful general, and ergo the army of the Potomac has been wrested from his command. This is the only reason that, in our hearing, has been assigned for the removal of the army’s favorite general.

We are not credulous enough to believe that this solely is the “head and front” of “Little Mac’s” offending. Indeed, we cannot but regard it as a mere vagary, and yet it comes from such respectable sources as Division headquarters of the First Army Corps. The “pass” may have been left open, and supplies and prisoners may have been captured, but the removal of General McClellan was doubtless determined upon long before these gaps or mountain fastnesses were taken. So it strikes us, and it is certainly reasonable to suppose so. But we will not occupy your valuable space in conjectures or suppositions pertaining to the removal of Gen. McClellan. We must confess that we are in the dark about the matter. We are anxiously awaiting the receipt of a reliable newspaper – your own we should like – which will of course elucidate the mystery, and tell us why it is that McClellan has been taken away as our leader and commander, and rumor saith that he has received orders to report himself at Trenton, N.J., where Gen. Scott is said to be. My “chum” Lieut. A., suggests that Trenton may be an asylum for defunct Generals.

A sad sorrowful day was yesterday to the tens of thousands of brave soldiers who help to comprise the army of the Potomac. The news was circulated a day or two previous in the various camps that McClellan had been relieved of his command, and that the command was henceforth to devolve upon Gen. Burnside. It really startled the troops, and it was hard for them to credit the intelligence. “What does it mean,” was the immediate question. The removal of McClellan has taken away, to thousands of soldiers, the “rainbow of hope” from the black war cloud overhanging our country, and the immediate effect of the announcement produced emotions both of grief and indignation. Many soldiers declared that they would’nt fight under any other commander but Gen. McClellan, or if they had to fight, they could not do so with any spirit or confidence, and said they, “there will be plenty of straggling in the army hereafter in time of action.” Their feelings and expressions were, of course, all wrong, or at least in violation of the spirit and rules of military obedience; but considering the “indissolable (sic) tie” existing between Gen. McClellan and the army of the Potomac, they are not to be wondered at. The soldiers will fight, and fight well and nobly, with Gen. Burnside at their head, for the mantle of Gen. McClellan could not, perhaps, have fallen on a better, braver, more efficient officer than Gen. Burnside. I think we may say that he is next to McClellan in the confidence and affections of the army, and his beautiful and patriotic address to the soldiers on assuming command of the army of the Potomac met with a cordial response. (2)

I remarked above that yesterday was a sad and sorrowful day to the army of the Potomac. Yes, it was, for there were many heavy hearts, saddened countenances, moistened eyes at the farewell scene between Gen. McClellan and his troops. As he rode by the lines of the regiments and brigades in our corps, attended by his escort, with Gen. Reynolds at his side, his head uncovered, sitting on his horse with all the mien of a patriot and soldier, his face betraying the deepest emotion, there was the enthusiastic cheer given as he passed by, and so, too, there was the most perfect silence observed in some instances. The silence spoke louder than the cheers, as the simple pressure of the hand, in parting from a friend, is frequently more significant than the speaking of words. It was certainly more in accordance with the occasion.

The Lieutenant of the 4th Regular Battery was intending to propose three cheers for the young Commander-in-chief when he passed by his battery, but he said that his heart failed him when he saw McClellan. He felt more like crying than cheering. He was not the only officer who partook of this feeling. As one of our company remarked to us, the parting with McClellan seemed more like a funeral than anything else.

It is reported in camp this morning by some of the boys that there has been quite a little mutiny among the Pennsylvania Reserves, in consequence of McClellan’s removal, some of the officers resigning and the soldiers declaring, most emphatically, that they will never fire another gun unless “Little Mac” is reinstated. All wrong and very foolish this is, of course, if true, though we give but little credence to the report. Undoubtedly there are the best of reasons for the removal, and respect and esteem for McClellan and the voice of patriotism, ought to hush all disaffection. It is the decree of “the powers that be,” and submission is the part of wisdom.

You perceive that we are still encamped near Warrenton. We are under marching orders, however, to be ready and move at a moment’s notice, with three days’ cooked rations. Gen. (Christopher) Augur, I understand, is to have command of our division, General Doubleday returning to his brigade. We were under General Augur’s command when in Banks’ corps.

Corporals Buell and Connor, and private Chas. Carpenter, who were taken prisoners – the former at Bull Run and the two latter at Little Washington – and sent to Richmond, have returned to the company. Their stay at the rebel capital was not very long – about two weeks – their first night being spent in the famous Libby Prison, whence they were conveyed to Bell Island, located in the suburbs of the city, and covering some two acres of sandy ground. Corporal Buell says when he was there, there were between 5,000 and 6,000 prisoners on the Island, whose accommodations consisted of old, torn, wornout tents, scarcely able to hang together, so rotten were they. The prisoners were fed on half a loaf of bread per day, with water to drink as a beverage. Every third day a ration of meat – fresh meat – was issued; but there was no salt to season it. The North Carolina regiment that rebelled and threw down their arms were stationed on the Island. (3) Our paroled boys report that they were most kindly and hospitably treated by the rebel soldiers, especially by those from the more Southern States, many of them dividing and sharing with them however little they might have. The Southern soldiers are reported to be very ignorant, and their style of talk is very much like the negro or slave. They wonder why it is we folks at the North come down to “invade” their homes and “trouble” them so much. They say that they mean to fight us till the last man is killed, they will never give up. There were those who deplored the existence of the war, however, deprecated it, and talked “sensibly.”

An epidemic seems to be prevailing among the horses in the army, which cannot be accounted for. It is a hoof disease, and comes suddenly and unexpectedly, a horse at night being apparently perfectly sound, but come morning he is affected with this disease, which attacks generally the hind feet between the hoof and foot, and causes a separation of the two. We have several horses in our battery affected with it, and if it should continue to grow worse and become very prevalent, the consequences may not only prove destructive to the horses but disastrous to the army, retarding and thwarting materially military plans and operations. As yet we have lost no horses by the disease, and though there is no special remedy to apply to effect a cure, care and attention may avert all loss. The disease appears to be the same that prevailed among the horses on the Peninsula. We hope this horse epidemic may run its course very speedily, for like most epidemics, the only cure there may be for it is to “run itself out.”

The order to move has come, and so I must close with a period. G.B.

Near Fayetteville, Nov. 12

We arrived here last night, coming over the road we traveled when we made our retreat under Gen. Pope. Rappahannock station is about five miles distant. Fayetteville is a settlement of the smallest description, one house I am told, constituting the village or town, as it may be called.

We are encamped in the midst of woods and are likely to remain here all day.

Madame Rumor was busy yesterday during our march with a story to the effect that General M’Clellan was en route for Richmond, by way of the Peninsula. Perhaps this is a secret, and ought not to be told. If so, of course, you will not tell it.

Transcribed And Donated By Bob MarcotteTranscribed And Donated By Bob Marcotte
​​​​​​​Robert E. Marcotte
Rochester, N.Y.
February 2005