head.
McClellan proposed to cross the Ohio River, invading Western Virginia via the Great Kanawha Valley, then continuing east across the Alleghenies to Richmond. “I know there would be difficulties in crossing the mountains,” he admitted, “but would go prepared to meet them.” If Kentucky assumed a hostile posture, he would invade that state. Then he would march on Nashville, eventually uniting with an eastern army moving on Pensacola, Mobile, and New Orleans to end the conflict decisively.
McClellan's letter was noteworthy as the first documented strategy to prosecute the war. It was also brash advice from the Union Army's youngest general to a warrior forty years his senior. General Scott fingered its weaknesses: McClellan's reliance on the three-month volunteers—men whose term of service would expire by the time they were fully engaged, and dependence on “long, tedious and break-down” marches across the mountains. Scott then revealed his own proposal “to envelope the insurgent States and bring them to terms.” This “Anaconda Plan” consisted of a blockade of Southern ports coupled with an advance down the Mississippi River to New Orleans. Diplomatically, Scott advised that McClellan might “take an important part” in the effort. 32
On May 3, McClellan was placed in command of the Department of the Ohio, comprising the states of Ohio,Indiana, and Illinois. A portion of Pennsylvania and Western Virginia north of the Great Kanawha and west of the Greenbrier River were soon added. The young general promptly opened communication with the governors of his new department, all of whom were raising troops. He petitioned General Scott for officers and ordinance, including heavy artillery and armored gunboats. The general-in-chief could not do enough. Governor Dennison and the Ohio legislature came to the rescue, passing bills and appropriating monies for arms, ammunition, clothing, and equipment.
McClellan repeatedly pressed for experienced officers, detained those temporarily assigned, and grabbed others who happened to pass through Cincinnati. “I do not expect your mantle to fall on my shoulders, for no man is worthy to wear it,” wrote McClellan to General Scott, “but I hope that it may be said hereafter that I was no unworthy disciple of your school. I cannot handle this mass of men, general; I cannot make an army to carry out your views unless I have the assistance of instructed soldiers…. I cannot be everywhere and do everything myself. Give me the men and I will answer for it that I will take care of the rest.”
McClellan's “implicit confidence” in Winfield Scott proved tenuous. A rift was developing between the two. When Scott denied a request to organize cavalry and artillery units, McClellan ignored him. To obtain cannons, he nabbed three companies of the Fourth U.S. Artillery traveling on assignment. Scott reluctantly allowed them to stay, but when McClellan sent an officer to Washington with additional demands, the general-in-chief thundered, “I know more about artillery than Gen. McClellan does, and it is not for him to teach me.” 33
“The apathy in Washington is very singular & very discouraging,” McClellan confided to Governor Dennison. “I can get no answers except now & then a decided refusal of some request or other—perhaps that is a little exaggerated, but the upshot of it is that they are entirely too slow for such an emergency, & I almost regret having entered upon my present duty.”
Ignoring the fact that experienced officers were needed elsewhere, McClellan won a number of desirables, including his father-in-law, Randolph Marcy, as chief of staff; the talented Seth Williams as adjutant-general; and no less a mustering officer than Robert Anderson—the heroic defender of Fort Sumter. But one veteran West Point man got no consideration at all. Twice he visited McClellan's headquarters in quest of a staff position and left word,
Carol Wallace, Bill Wallance
Vic Ghidalia and Roger Elwood (editors)