How Long, Oh How Long!
Now that Grant's campaign against Richmond is over, and his army going into winter quarters on the banks of the James, a review of a file or daily papers from the first of May would give a Lincoln man much food for sound reflection. Beginning with the day Grant crossed the Rapidan, reading Stanton's grandiloquent accounts of the first weeks' fighting in the Wilderness, Lincoln's hasty thanksgiving proclamation, when, God knows, we had little cause for thanks. Grant's famous dispatch in which the country was assured that he "intended to fight it out on this line if it took all summer." All this would be amusing, but mournful withal. Lincoln's supporters, scarce one of whom has not time and again published ample proofs that he is utterly unfit for the high office he holds, based their hopes of his re-election upon the expected capture of Richmond before November 8. Now that another year is spent, the finest army we ever equipped dissipated, (Grant's losses cannot fall far short of TWO HUNDRED THOUSAND MEN) what can they expect from this man's management in the future? We have actually lost thousands of square miles of territory since McClellan's removal, and yet these men talk about restoring the Union! Pshaw!