v1.1.1 / chapter 6 of 93 / 01 sep 07 / greg goebel / public domain
* The Union's failure at Bull Run was an embarrassment, but President Lincoln's determination to press on with the war remained strong. He took measures to turn the paper blockade of the South into a real one, and watched with satisfaction as General McClellan turned the rabble that had fled from Bull Run into a fighting army.
* If the clumsy and unlucky offensive towards Manassas had been a rash act on President Lincoln's part, he was simultaneously demonstrating a commitment to patient and methodical action in the form of the blockade he had declared on 19 April, and which was reaffirmed in one of the clauses of his new war plan.
At the beginning of the war, the few dozen serviceable Navy warships and the few thousand sailors available were not up to the job, much less to simultaneously protecting Union vessels from rebel commerce raiders. Southern papers laughed at the idea that the Federals could seal off the entire 3,000 mile (4,800 kilometer) coastline of the Confederacy. Scott's Anaconda was as much a joke in the South as it was in the North.
Few had reckoned with Secretary of the Navy Gideon Welles. Welles had no background in naval matters, which was somewhat surprising given his appearance. He had the looks of an old salt with a long white beard, and was aptly called "Father Neptune" by the President. However, he was the sort of man who would do well at most tasks, since he had an extraordinary amount of common sense and managerial skill. He also was assisted by the good advice of Gustavus Vasa Fox, an energetic ex-Navy man who had been appointed by the President to the new post of Assistant Secretary of the Navy in August. The two men made an effective team.
By the time of the special session of the US Congress on 4 July 1861, the US Navy had 22 blockade vessels on station along the Atlantic Coast of the Confederacy, and 21 more along the Gulf Coast. The government had bought 12 steamers and chartered 9, mounted a few guns on them, and put them to work halting Confederate trade. Other warships were under construction. On 22 August, the steam sloop TUSCARORA was launched from Philadelphia, to be followed by 23 other vessels of her class: 600 ton (550 tonne) screw-and-sail gunboats, armed with 4 to 7 guns, with shallow draft to allow operation in coastal waters. They were all completed in about three months, earning them the name "90-day gunboats". These vessels were soon followed by a class of side-wheel gunboats designed for work in rivers and narrow channels, known as "double-enders" because they had two bows with rudders at each end and could reverse direction without turning around. They were ideal for blockade duty on inshore waters. By the end of 1861, the US Navy would have 261 ships and 22,000 sailors. It was relatively easy to find experienced seamen, since the North had a large merchant fleet to provide plenty of trained recruits.
Even those hundreds of vessels still wouldn't be enough to wall off the Confederacy. The long Southern coastline was convoluted with inlets that could be used as perfectly adequate harbors, and there was no way to patrol them all. However, the blockade didn't have to be airtight to be effective. A constrictor snake does not crush its prey, it gradually tightens its hold until its victim suffocates. Simply closing the major ports, maybe ten in all, would be enough to drastically reduce the volume of trade with the South. As more blockade vessels were added, the flow would continue to dwindle.
In addition, as the blockade became more effective, ordinary merchant vessels would find it more difficult to slip through, with merchant captains turning to fast "blockade runners" to evade Federal warships. These vessels were generally specially built for the purpose, meaning they were relatively few in number, and since they were built for speed their cargo capacity was relatively limited. Even if every fast blockade runner managed to reach port safely, the tonnage of imports would still be far lower than it had been in peacetime.
Oddly, there were Southerners who believed the blockade would benefit the South. The British and French, who needed cotton to run their prosperous textile industries, would of course rush to the aid of the Confederacy when supplies ran low, making the blockade backfire on the Yankees. In fact, for a time the Confederacy declared a cotton embargo, stating that it wouldn't be lifted until the British and French recognized the Confederacy. British officials were outraged at what they saw as blackmail and bluntly refused. There wasn't too much pressure to cave in to the Confederate demand for the moment, since there had been a big cotton crop the year before and Europe had a surplus. Still, so the theory went, eventually the great powers would be certain to throw their weight behind the new Confederate nation.
There were Southerners who preferred to fight the blockade, and one of them was the Confederate Secretary of the Navy Stephen Mallory, once a Florida lawyer and then US senator, an extremely competent man -- though not regarded as socially proper because of his inclination to chase skirts. His resources were limited, but the Federals had provided him with some materials, most significantly, the powerful 3,500 ton (3,200 tonne) steam frigate MERRIMAC, which had been ineffectively scuttled when the US Navy had pulled out of Gosport Navy Yard in April. By the end of May, the vessel had been raised and moved to the yard's dry dock.
Earlier in that month, Mallory had gone before the Confederate Congress to promote the development of ironclad warships. He believed they could be a powerful equalizer against the United States Navy. Workable explosive shells had been developed in the past few decades and had proven devastatingly effective against wooden vessels. New rifled guns allowed such shells to be thrown over longer ranges. An ironclad warship could pound wooden warships to pieces while shrugging off return fire. The day of the wooden warship was coming to a close.
A builder at the Gosport Navy Yard, John Porter, had proposed an ironclad warship to the US government before the war. In response to Mallory's proposal to build such vessels to defend the Confederacy, Porter drew up a plan to rebuild the MERRIMAC into something along the lines of his old proposal. Mallory gave the go-ahead on his own authority on 30 June, and as July went on, rumors began to drift North of a floating monster taking shape under the tools of Confederate workmen.
* In the meantime, fighting was proceeding at sea. Even as the Union was implementing the blockade, the Confederacy was offering "letters of marque and reprisal" to citizens to authorize them as privateers. Confederate privateers had begun operating out of New Orleans in May, though increased US Navy vigilance quickly moved the focus of rebel privateering activity to Charleston.
Privateers were little more than legalized pirates who could seize Union vessels and sell them and their cargoes for their own profit, as well as collect Confederate bounties for the destruction of Federal warships. The legal status of privateering had become shaky by the 1860s, since both England and France had formally abandoned the practice through a treaty in 1856. The United States had not signed this treaty, but since the US government did not recognize the legitimacy of the Confederacy it did not recognize the legitimacy of Confederate letters of marque and reprisal. As far as President Lincoln was concerned, Confederate privateers were simply pirates, and he announced that as such they would be hanged if captured. Jefferson Davis replied that he would hang Union prisoners in response.
When a privateer, the SAVANNAH, was captured by the Federals in early June, the ship's crew was taken to New York to stand trial for piracy. In the South, thirteen of the highest-ranking Union prisoners were selected by lot to face hanging if the any of the Confederate privateers were hanged. However, the New York jury was unable to reach a verdict and the crisis passed, at least for time being.
Rebel privateers were extremely active off the Northeast coast during the summer of 1861. Shipping interests and mayors of coastal towns cried to Gideon Welles to send warships to hunt down the raiders. Welles knew that was exactly what the Confederate government wanted him to do. Every ship he sent chasing over the sea to hunt down privateers would weaken the Federal blockade. Welles ignored the bait and worked to tighten the blockade. The privateers could be dealt with in good time.
* For the moment, Confederate privateers more or less ranged freely in their hunting, but not all were successful at it. When South Carolina seceded from the Union, one of the Federal properties left behind was the little two-gun revenue cutter, the PETREL, a ship so dilapidated that even the hard-up Confederate Navy didn't want her. A group of Charleston businessmen still saw the vessel as an opportunity for profit, and paid to have the PETREL renovated for service as a privateer. She began her career on the morning of 28 July 1861, when she slipped through the darkness past the Federal blockade. When the sun came up, the PETREL's captain, William Perry, saw sails on the horizon and gave chase.
Unfortunately, at closer range the unknown vessel turned out to be a powerful US Navy frigate, the 52-gun SAINT LAWRENCE. The rebels turned and ran, with the Union vessel in pursuit. The SAINT LAWRENCE caught up with the PETREL at about 10 AM. Perry decided to engage the big warship and fired on her, only to be answered with a single shot that sank the little PETREL. Perry and his crew, less four men who had drowned, were taken in chains to prison in Philadelphia. The conversations that took place among the prisoners were not recorded but make an interesting matter for speculation.
* The Confederate state also took direct efforts to harass Union shipping. While privateering had the attractiveness of being cheap, it also had the drawback that it could easily degenerate into uncontrolled piracy, and so the Confederacy had an incentive to set up a naval raider force. In February, a US Navy officer named Raphael Semmes had resigned his commission and gone to see President Davis in Montgomery. Davis sent him north to purchase military supplies for Confederate naval operations. In April, immediately after the attack on Fort Sumter, Semmes called on Navy Secretary Mallory to discuss commerce raiding. Mallory told Semmes there seemed to be no suitable vessels for the task available, but showed Semmes a report of one such ship. Semmes replied: "Give her to me. I think I can make her answer the purpose."
The ship was the fast packet HABANA, a 520 ton (470 tonne) vessel that had been used for trade with Cuba and was then docked in New Orleans. While she had limited fuel capacity and crew accommodations, Semmes had her refurbished with a stronger main deck, a berth deck, a shell room, a powder magazine, added coal bunkers, as well as an 8 inch (20 centimeter) pivot gun and four 32 pound (10 kilogram) howitzers. The ship, renamed CSS SUMTER, was not ready to go to sea until mid-June, and by that time Semmes had to deal with Federal blockaders. He ran the blockade on 30 June. He was pursued by the USS BROOKLYN but managed to give the Federal warship the slip. Semmes made his first capture three days later, seizing and burning the GOLDEN ROCKET, a Yankee ship out of Maine. He quickly scored other successes.
However, the international laws governing war at sea made it difficult to obtain a profit from his captures, and in fact made it hard to even conduct operations. His actions in neutral ports were highly constrained, and even the amount of time he was allowed to remain in a port specifically limited. Semmes became skilled at circumventing local authorities to stay in business. It was still worthwhile in terms of simply inflicting pain on the Yankees. The US Navy was focused on the blockade, and for the moment Semmes went where he pleased and did what he wanted.
* George Brinton McClellan arrived in Washington DC on the afternoon of 26 July 1861 to find himself the center of attention. A few days after his arrival he wrote his wife:
BEGIN QUOTE:
I find myself in a new and strange position here: President, cabinet, General Scott and all deferring to me. By some strange operation of magic I seem to have become the power of the land. I almost think that was I to win one whole success now I could become dictator or anything else that might please me -- therefore I won't be Dictator. Admirable self-denial!
END QUOTE
This was mighty potent stuff for a young man. Fortunately he had plenty to do to keep himself busy. Washington was still in a state of "perfect pandemonium" after the defeat at Manassas, with soldiers wandering around uncontrolled and often drunk in the city. McClellan assigned two regiments of regulars, who had little love for volunteers, as military police to clear the scattered soldiers out of the bars and hotels and herd them back to their units. A pass system was instituted for enlisteds and officers alike.
Camps were established on the Washington side of the Potomac to receive the new levies as they came in. As the new troops became better trained, they were transferred across the river to camps on the Virginia side, where they could be used to help protect the city. Lines were traced out for a ring of fortifications stretching 33 miles (53 kilometers) around the city, with forts placed on commanding hills, and entrenchments and redoubts for artillery and infantry in between.
McClellan had outstanding administrative skills, and he put in long days to establish order among his men and put them through endless marching drills. The drill was not merely to establish discipline. In a time where mobility was provided by footwork and firepower was the product of a mass of men acting together, coordinated motion was an absolute necessity. Militia officers were put in front of examining boards, and those who did not pass inspection were sent home. The state governors were then free to replace them as they pleased, but at least the Army had some say over the process. Ten days after arriving in Washington, he was able to write: "I have restored order completely."
McClellan had a genuine gift of leadership. Despite the discipline, he was in general adored by his men. He was of average height, 5 feet 9 inches (175 centimeters), but compact and muscular. He had a weight-lifter's chest, with the odd effect of making him appear a little puffed-up and pompous in some pictures of him. His features were regular and his manner direct. He returned his men's affection for him, tempering his irritation over defects in spit-and-polish with quick praise. He held parades to build morale and strengthen the bond between him and the soldiers. He would ride past the formations on his horse, Dan Webster, and salute them with a little twirl of his cap.
There was of course show in all of this. Officers helped stage-manage the cheers for "Little Mac" when he put on an appearance, and there was of course the grand proclamations that he was so fond of issuing. One general who had campaigned under McClellan in western Virginia commented that the proclamations were characterized by "turgid rhetoric and exaggerated pretense" that did not seem natural to McClellan. "In them he seemed to be composing for stage effect something to be spoken in character by a quite different person from the sensible and genial man we knew in daily life and conversation."
There were also sharp limits to his sympathy with the enlisteds. When in mid-August a Maine regiment and New York regiment mutinied, he put them down firmly, sending the ringleaders in the Maine regiment in irons down to Dry Tortugas in the Caribbean, to learn the errors of their ways in hard labor. He showed more restraint with the New York regiment, however, merely confiscating their regimental colors and announcing they would not be returned until the regiment had redeemed itself.
All this did not damage the sincere affection between McClellan and his soldiers. Neither did the fact that McClellan remained socially aloof from them, setting up quarters in a fine house in Washington. This gave him the opportunity to be often seen on the streets, galloping off to the encampments around the city. Living in Washington had a dark side to it, in that McClellan found himself in the company of the ambitious and powerful men. His associations with those who possessed political power increasingly politicized him, a worrying condition for a man whose powers were derived from a civilian authority, whose orders he had to follow and to which he had to answer. Another problem was the strain of such overwhelming responsibility. McClellan felt, and had been given much encouragement in feeling, that the fate of the war rested in his hands. Very possibly it did, since the Union was relying on the army that he was creating.
It has been said that McClellan was too used to success, having accomplished everything he had set out to do up to that time without great difficulty. He was not accustomed to failure; now he was being confronted with a challenge far greater than any he had dealt with before, and he did not handle it well. He began to make errors in judgement, which were all too dangerous when they appeared to be backed up by convincing evidence. The most damaging of these misjudgements was due to faulty intelligence that caused him to grossly overestimate Confederate strength. For example, in mid-August McClellan was to state that the enemy had 150,000 men threatening him, as opposed to the 55,000 under his own command. In reality the rebels had about 30,000 effectives confronting him at that time.
It was also later said that "McClellan always saw double when he looked rebelward." Sometimes it seems to have been much more than that. His intelligence was provided by a man known as Major E.J. Allen, who was in reality Allan Pinkerton, the detective who had engineered Lincoln's cloak-and-dagger passage through Baltimore. Pinkerton had created a formidable intelligence organization, consisting of an elaborate network of spies with considerable penetration into the Confederate political and military apparatus. His spies provided him with detailed reports. The problem was that they were wrong, and often very wrong. How such dedicated effort, for which some of his agents paid for with their lives, could have been so far off is still a mystery, though part of it seems to have been a consistent tendency to make worst-case assumptions that in sum added up to grossly inflated estimates of enemy capability.
All these pressures led to a certain lack of gracefulness on McClellan's part, not to mention a tendency towards messianic pretensions, and a feud with General Scott. McClellan had found him an obstacle from the start, and not without some good reason. The old man was in poor health and resisted organizational changes McClellan thought necessary, such as the dispersal of trained regular officers to volunteer regiments to bring them up to fighting shape. However, Scott also angered McClellan by impatiently dismissing the grand estimates of Confederate strength that the younger man accepted as gospel.
At first, McClellan simply bypassed the old man and took up matters directly with Secretary of State Seward, Secretary of War Cameron, or anyone else he needed to deal with. Scott was not the sort of man to tolerate such insubordination, and when on 8 August McClellan sent him a letter warning of an imminent offensive by Beauregard against Washington that demanded 100,000 men "before attending to any other point", Scott exploded. He complained to Cameron that he didn't think Washington was in any danger at all, and that he was tired of being putting up with McClellan's snubs and insubordination. The general suggested that the President allow him to retire immediately. President Lincoln intervened and McClellan withdrew the letter. That same day McClellan wrote an odd letter to his wife:
BEGIN QUOTE:
Gen. Scott is the great obstacle. He will not comprehend the danger. I have to fight my way against him. Tomorrow the question will probably be decided by giving me absolute control independently of him. I suppose it will result in emnity on his part against me; but I have no choice.
The people call upon me to save the country. I must save it, and I cannot respect anything that is in the way. I receive letter after letter, have conversation after conversation, calling on me to save the nation, alluding to the presidency, dictatorship, etc.
As I hope one day to be united with you forever in heaven, I have no such aspirations. I would cheerfully take the dictatorship and agree to lay down my life when the country is saved. I am not spoiled by my unexpected new position.
I feel sure that God will give me the strength and wisdom to preserve this great nation; but I tell you, who share all my thoughts that I have no selfish feeling in this matter. I feel that God has placed a great work in my hands. I have not sought it. I know how weak I am, but I know that I mean to do right, and I believe that God will help me and give me the wisdom I do not possess.
Pray for me, that I may be able to accomplish my task, the greatest, perhaps, that any poor weak mortal ever had to do.
END QUOTE
On 16 August he added: "I am here in a terrible place -- the enemy have from 3 to 4 times my force -- the Presid't is an idiot, the old General is in his dotage -- they cannot or will not see the true state of affairs." The quarrel between the two generals continued without a letup. Still, McClellan stayed focused on the task at hand. As the summer ran out, he built up Washington's defenses, brought in and trained more soldiers, and obtained all necessary supplies through Secretary Cameron's inept organization. He was building a real army, and on 20 August 1861, it was given a name: the Army of the Potomac.
