[General M'Clellan]The Illustrated London News, vol. 39, no. 1113, p. 412.
October 19, 1861
General M'Clellan—at a recent calvary and artillery review I had an opportunity of contrasting M'Clellan with a score of generals and princes. There were M'Dowell, Porter, Keys, Blenker, Smith, and Marcy, all manly, gallant faces and figures of tru military bearing; Colonels De Trobiand and Solm-Solm, with their dashing, chivalresque air; the Prince de Joinville, twisted and stooping, lounging on his horse; the Orleans princes, with their mild, amiable faces, and aspect of languid interest—in all, a most remarkable group of figures. A horse's length in advance sat the smallest man of the party, broad-shouldered, strong-chested, strong-necked, and strong-jawed, one hand upon his hip, while the other, by an occasional rapid motion flung some communication to the passing squadrons of calvary. The visor of his cap was well pulled down over his eyes, yet not a man in the lines escaped his observation. His glance seemed to take in at once the whole spectacle, yet without losing loosing any of its smallest details. "He is a commander," said my Austrian friend. Something in his figure, his attitude, and the square, tenacious set of his jaws, reminded me strikingly of Field-Marshal Radetsky. I scanned the lines of his face in vain for some mark of weakness, indecision, or timidity. All was cool, firm, prompt, determined, and self-reliant. If he does not justify the hopes and expectations of the nation, physiognomy is of no value.—Bayard Taylor in the Tribune