Washington, DC
June 1864
George McClellan was waiting, impatiently, at the B & O Railroad Station in Washington City. As the train from New York eased up to the platform, he scanned the windows. He and Nelly saw each other at the same time. She smiled and waved while the general did his best to look dignified. There were scores of people on the platform.
McClellan approached the train as Nelly alighted, and she kissed him on both cheeks.
“Did you miss me?”
“Yes, of course, though I’ve been busy.”
Nelly linked her arm in his and they walked through the station, out the New Jersey Avenue doors, and into McClellan’s waiting carriage. Six cavalrymen escorted the carriage, two in front and four behind.
McClellan leaned out the window and yelled “home,” at the same time tapping on the roof of the carriage with the butt of his sword.
“So?”
“I’m fine, George, thank you for inquiring, and how are you?”
McClellan looked at his boots for a moment, collected himself, looked at Nelly, and said, “Sorry, my dear. How was your trip? Are you quite well? I’ve missed you.”
Nelly laughed. “Very good indeed, George. Much better. So. Governor Seymour sends his regards. The visit went quite well. The governor believes all is in train. There is no need for you to be present in Chicago. He will place your name in nomination, and he believes there’s some chance you’ll be home free on the first ballot. If not, soon thereafter. He wonders, have you a preference for vice president? He sent a list of names, which I’ll show you when we’re home.”
McClellan looked at his wife in astonishment.
“Did you think I went to Albany to pass the time with Mrs. Seymour?” She laughed so hard her chest heaved. “I shall spare you the details of my time spent with her.”
“And that’s that?”
“And that is apparently that. Though I’ve no doubt that defeating General Longstreet would increase the odds of a first-ballot nomination.”
“As to that.”
Nelly raised her eyebrows. “And as to that?”
McClellan pointed upwards, as if to indicate that the driver and escorts had ears.
“When we’re home.”
“Yes, of course. George, the governor wondered if you’ll resign your commission or run as a uniformed officer? I was not comfortable answering the question for you.”
“It is a question. General Scott did not resign his commission. I don’t imagine that I shall either. What to do once elected is a different question altogether. As commander-in-chief it won’t be necessary to wear the uniform.”
“The governor also had questions about the platform. He supposed that you oppose the peace faction and favor fighting the war to a successful conclusion. I took the liberty of saying that was the case.”
“Just so.”
“And the issue of slavery. The party platform will almost surely call for its abolition.”
McClellan did not answer immediately. Frowning, he said, “Slavery shall die of its own weight. It isn’t necessary for the party or for me to take a political stand that will unnecessarily provoke the voters. It will die a gradual death and our victory will hasten its end.”
Nelly was quiet. Finally, she said, “I believe you should accept the platform as it will be written. To include abolition. You won’t provoke the voters. You shall guide them.”
They rode the rest of the way home in silence.
Once inside the house, and Nelly’s bags upstairs, they sat together in the drawing room, each deep in their thoughts.
“You said you’d tell me when we were home. About your plans.”
“Yes. I shall lead the army south very soon. Meade will have the Army of the Potomac. Grant his Western ruffians. And I shall be in overall command of 200,000 men or perhaps a shade more. Double the size of Longstreet’s army. It should all be settled long before the convention at the end of August.”
“George. You should tell Mr. Lincoln of your plans. It’s the right thing to do.”
“Yes. I will deal with the one president just as soon as I’ve dealt with the other.”