South of Saratoga, New York
December 1863
There was no time to organize transportation by rail or boat. The Army of the Potomac was moving south on its feet. Besides, it wouldn’t look good, the army boarding trains or boats and abandoning New York. No, this was a fighting retreat, a strategic redeployment. No need for alarm or panic. The army was intact, in the field, and well led.
McClellan, on horseback, hadn’t spoken to anyone for an hour. Some of his corps commanders, Warren, Sykes, wanted orders. Where were they headed? Would they stand at Albany? New York City? Or would they retreat to Philadelphia, where Lincoln, the Cabinet, and the Congress had set up temporary shop. Sykes, especially, wanted to turn and fight.
“Sir, let my regulars set up a rear guard, and the rest of the army can form on them. They barely fired a shot in anger this morning. Never got in the fight.”
McClellan looked over at Sykes. “We’ll camp tonight near Waterford. Set up your rear guard. Burgoyne may send cavalry to harass our retreat. But he won’t offer battle again so soon. He’ll take his time, follow us south, and try to squeeze us between his army and Longstreet in Washington City. If we move quickly enough, we can dispose of Longstreet, then re-engage with Burgoyne. That is what we shall do.”
Sykes wouldn’t let go. “We’re going to leave New York unprotected?”
McClellan was tired, exhausted, and now he was angry. “We’re not leaving anything unprotected. This army is moving in good order, to reform and fight again. We shall make our way to Philadelphia, the current seat of the national government.” He had wired Nelly to take the first train from New York to Philadelphia and stay with his family there.
Lincoln had also wired. Request we meet earliest convenience. A. Lincoln.
McClellan mumbled aloud. “I’m not going to make it so easy for him this time. He gave me his word I could finish the job this time, and by God I will.”
What to do about Seymour? McClellan intended to march right past Albany. He couldn’t spare men to protect it. Seymour would be apoplectic. He would have to deal with that later. The damned Peace Democrats would have a field day.
McClellan had sounded certain about Burgoyne’s plans, but in truth he didn’t know what the British would do. They might well try to pursue and exploit the situation and destroy the Army of the Potomac in the coming days.
“Captain Wilson.”
Wilson rode up beside the general.
In a whisper, McClellan said, “I need to see the woman.”
“Yes sir. Her house is a few miles ahead, between here and Albany. I’ll bring her to you after we make camp.”
McClellan went over the battle again in his head. For the twentieth time. There is nothing he could have done differently. His plan was as sound as a nut. Gordon had attacked, and Warren had held him at bay for a couple of hours. A few more hours and McClellan would have unleashed an enormous counterattack. Sykes and two corps, held in reserve, would have overwhelmed Gordon and they would have driven him from the field. Then the surprise attack came from the west. They appeared out of nowhere. Troops he wasn’t aware of. They almost drove us into the river. Custer had assured him that Burgoyne had no other reinforcements. It had all gone to pieces in twenty minutes. They’ll say I didn’t commit my forces. Just like Antietam. Lincoln will say I didn’t commit my forces.
The sun was down, and the army had covered twenty miles after four hours of hard fighting. Men were starting to fall out of the ranks and sleep by the side of the road.
“Captain, we’ll make camp here. Get the word to the corps commanders. And Captain, don’t forget to bring the woman here.”