University of Virginia Library

CHAPTER LIV.

August 26th.—General Van Vliet called from General
McClellan to say that the Commander-in-Chief would be happy
to go round the camps with me when he next made an inspection,
and would send round an orderly and charger in time to
get ready before he started. These little excursions are not
the most agreeable affairs in the world; for McClellan delights
in working down staff and escort, dashing from the Chain
Bridge to Alexandria, and visiting all the posts, riding as hard
as he can, and not returning till past midnight, so that if one
has a regard for his cuticle, or his mail-days he will not rashly
venture on such excursions. To-day he is to inspect McDowell's
division.

I set out accordingly with Captain Johnson over the Long
Bridge, which is now very strictly guarded. On exhibiting
my pass to the sentry at the entrance, he called across to the
sergeant and spoke to him aside, showing him the pass at the
same time. "Are you Russell, of the London 'Times'?" said
the sergeant. I replied, "If you look at the pass, you will see
who I am." He turned it over, examined it most narrowly,
and at last, with an expression of infinite dissatisfaction and
anger upon his face, handed it back, saying to the sentry, "I
suppose you must let him go."

Meantime Captain Johnson was witching the world with
feats of noble horsemanship, for 1 had lent him my celebrated
horse Walker, so called because no earthly equestrian can induce
him to do anything but trot violently, gallop at full speed,
or stand on his hind legs. Captain Johnson laid the whole

fault of the animal's conduct to my mismanagement, affirming
that all it required was a light hand and gentleness, and so, as
he could display both, I promised to let him have a trial to-day.
Walker, on starting, however, insisted on having a dance to
himself, which my friend attributed to the excitement produced
by the presence of the other horse, and I rode quietly along
whilst the captain proceeded to establish an acquaintance with
his steed in some quiet by-street. As I was crossing the
Long Bridge, the forbidden clatter of a horse's hoofs on the
planks caused me to look round, and on, in a cloud of dust,
through the midst of shouting sentries, came my friend of the
gentle hand and unruffled temper, with his hat thumped down
on the back of his head, his eyes gleaming, his teeth clinched,
his fine features slightly flushed, to say the least of it, sawing
violently at Walker's head, and exclaiming, "You brute, I'll
teach you to walk," till he brought up by the barrier midway
on the bridge. The guard, en masse, called the Captain's attention
to the order, "all horses to walk over the bridge."
"Why, that's what I want him to do. I'll give any man
among you one hundred dollars who can make him walk along
this bridge or anywhere else." The redoubtable steed, being
permitted to proceed upon its way, dashed swiftly through the
tête de pont, or stood on his hind legs when imperatively arrested
by a barrier or abattis, and on these occasions my excellent
friend, as he displayed his pass in one hand and restrained
Bucephalus with the other, reminded me of nothing
so much as the statue of Peter the Great, in the square on
the banks of the Neva, or the noble equestrian monument of
General Jackson, which decorates the city of Washington.
The troops of McDowell's division were already drawn up on
a rugged plain, close to the river's margin, in happier days the
scene of the city races. A pestilential odor rose from the
slaughter-houses close at hand, but regardless of odor or
marsh, Walker continued his violent exercise, evidently under
the idea that he was assisting at a retreat of the grand army
as before.

Presently General McDowell and one of his aides cantered
over, and whilst waiting for General McClellan, he talked of
the fierce outburst directed against me in the press. "I must
confess," he said laughingly, "I am much rejoiced to find you
are as much abused as I have been. I hope you mind it as
little as I did. Bull Run was an unfortunate affair for both
of us, for had I won it, you would have had to describe the

pursuit of the flying enemy, and then you would have been
the most popular writer in America, and I would have been
lauded as the greatest of generals. See what measure has
been meted to us now. I'm accused of drunkenness and
gambling, and you Mr. Russell—well!—I really do hope
you are not so black as you are painted." Presently a cloud
of dust on the road announced the arrival of the President,
who came upon the ground in an open carriage, with Mr.
Seward by his side, accompanied by General McClellan and
his staff in undress uniform, and an escort of the very dirtiest
and most unsoldierly dragoons, with filthy accoutrements and
ungroomed horses, I ever saw. The troops dressed into line
and presented arms, whilst the band struck up the "Star-Spangled
Banner," as the Americans have got no air which
corresponds with our National Anthem, or is in any way complimentary
to the quadrennial despot who fills the President's
chair.

General McDowell seems on most excellent terms with the
present Commander-in-Chief, as he is with the President.
Immediately after Bull Run, when the President first saw
McDowell, he said to him, "I have not lost a particle of confidence
in you," to which the General replied, "I don't see
why you should, Mr. President." But there was a curious
commentary, either on the sincerity of Mr. Lincoln, or in his
utter subserviency to mob opinion, in the fact that he who can
overrule congress and act pretty much as he pleases in time
of war, had, without opportunity for explanation or demand
for it, at once displaced the man in whom he still retained the
fullest confidence, degraded him to command of a division of
the army of which he had been General-in-Chief, and placed
a junior officer over his head.

After some ordinary movements, the march past took place,
which satisfied me that the new levies were very superior to
the three months' men, though far, indeed, from being soldiers.
Finer material could not be found in physique. With the exception
of an assemblage of miserable scarecrows in rags and
tatters, swept up in New York and commanded by a Mr. Kerrigan,
no division of the ordinary line, in any army, could show
a greater number of tall, robust men in the prime of life. A
soldier standing near me, pointing out Kerrigan's corps, said,
"The boy who commands that pretty lot recruited them first
for the Seceshes in New York, but finding he could not get
them away he handed them over to Uncle Sam." The men

were silent as they marched past, and did not cheer for President
or Union.

I returned from the field to Arlington House, having been
invited with my friend to share the General's camp dinner.
On our way along the road, I asked Major Brown why he rode
over to us before the review commenced. "Well," said he,
"my attention was called to you by one of our staff saying
'there are two Englishmen,' and the General sent me over to
invite them, and followed when he saw who it was." "But
how could you tell we were English?" "I don't know," said
he, "there were other civilians about, but there was something
about the look of you two which marked you immediately as
John Bull."

At the General's tent we found General Sherman, Generals
Keyes, Wadsworth, and some others. Dinner was spread on
a table covered by the flap of the tent, and consisted of good
plain fare, and a dessert of prodigious water-melons. I was
exceedingly gratified to hear every officer present declare in
the presence of the general who had commanded the army,
and who himself said no words could exaggerate the disorder
of the route, that my narrative of Bull Run was not only
true but moderate.

General Sherman, whom I met for the first time, said, "Mr.
Russell, I can indorse every word that you wrote; your statements
about the battle, which you say you did not witness, are
equally correct. All the stories about charging batteries and
attacks with the bayonet are simply falsehoods, so far as my
command is concerned, though some of the troops did fight
well. As to cavalry charges, I wish we had had a few cavalry
to have tried one; those Black Horse fellows seemed as if
their horses ran away with them." General Keyes said,
"I don't think you made it half bad enough. I could not get
the men to stand after they had received the first severe check.
The enemy swept the open with a tremendous musketry fire.
Some of our men and portions of regiments behaved admirably
—we drove them easily at first; the cavalry did very little
indeed; but when they did come on I could not get the infantry
to stand, and after a harmless volley they broke."
These officers were brigadiers of Tyler's division.

The conversation turned upon the influence of the press in
America, and I observed that every soldier at table spoke
with the utmost dislike and antipathy of the New York journals,
to which they gave a metropolitan position, although each

man had some favorite paper of his own which he excepted
from the charge made against the whole body. The principal
accusations made against the press were that the conductors
are not gentlemen, that they are calumnious and corrupt, regardless
of truth, honor, anything but circulation and advertisements.
"It is the first time we have had a chance of
dealing with these fellows, and we shall not lose it."

I returned to Washington at dusk over the Aqueduct Bridge.
A gentleman, who introduced himself to me as correspondent
of one of the cheap London papers, sent out specially on
account of his great experience to write from the States, under
the auspices of the leaders of the advanced liberal party, came
to ask if I had seen an article in the "Chicago Tribune," purporting
to be written by a gentleman who says he was in my
company during the retreat, contradicting what I report. I
was advised by several officers—whose opinion I took—that
it would be derogatory to me if I noticed the writer. I read
it over carefully, and must say I am surprised—if anything
could surprise me in American journalism—at the impudence
and mendacity of the man. Having first stated that he rode
along with me from point to point at a certain portion of the
road, he states that he did not hear or see certain things which
I say that I saw and heard, or deliberately falsifies what passed,
for the sake of a little ephemeral applause, quotations in the
papers, increased importance to himself, and some more abuse
of the English correspondent.

This statement made me recall the circumstance alluded to
more particularly. I remember well the flurried, plethoric,
elderly man, mounted on a broken-down horse, who rode up
to me in great trepidation, with sweat streaming over his face,
and asked me if I was going into Washington. "You may
not recollect me, sir; I was introduced to you at Cay-roe, in
the hall of the hotel. I'm Dr. Bray, of the 'Chicago Tribune.'"
I certainly did not remember him, but I did recollect that a
despatch from Cairo appeared in the paper, announcing my
arrival from the South, and stating I complained on landing
that my letters had been opened in the States, which was quite
untrue and which I felt called on to deny, and supposing Dr.
Bray to be the author I was not at all inclined to cement our
acquaintance, and continued my course with a bow.

But the doctor whipped his steed up along-side mine, and
went on to tell me that he was in the most terrible bodily pain
and mental anxiety. The first on account of desuetude of

equestrian exercise; the other on account of the defeat of the
Federals and the probable pursuit of the Confederates. "Oh!
it's dreadful to think of! They know me well, and would show
me no mercy. Every step the horse take I'm in agony. I'll
never get to Washington. Could you stay with me, sir? as
you know the road." I was moved to internal chuckling, at
any rate, by the very prostrate condition—for he bent well over
the saddle—of poor Dr. Bray, and so I said to him, "Don't
be uneasy, sir. There is no fear of your being taken. The
army is not defeated, in spite of what you see; for there will
be always runaways and skulkers when a retreat is ordered.
I have not the least doubt McDowell will stand fast at Centreville,
and rally his troops to-night on the reserve, so as to
be in a good position to resist the enemy to-morrow. I'll have
to push on to Washington, as I must write my letters, and I
fear they will stop me on the bridge without the countersign,
particularly if these runaways should outstrip us. As to your
skin, pour a little whiskey on some melted tallow and rub it
well in, and you'll be all right to-morrow or next day as far as
that is concerned."

I actually, out of compassion to his sufferings—for he uttered
cries now and then as though Lucina were in request—reined
up, and walked my horse, though most anxious to get out of
the dust and confusion of the runaways, and comforted him
about a friend whom he missed, and for whose fate he was as
uneasy as the concern he felt for his own woes permitted him
to be; suggested various modes to him of easing the jolt and
of quickening the pace of his steed, and at last really bored
excessively by an uninteresting and self-absorbed companion,
who was besides detaining me needlessly on the road, I turned
on some pretence into a wood by the side and continued my
way as well as I could, till I got off the track, and being guided
to the road by the dust and shouting, I came out on it somewhere
near Fairfax Court, and there, to my surprise, dropped
on the Doctor, who, animated by some agency more powerful
than the pangs of an abraded cuticle and taking advantage
of the road, had got thus far ahead. We entered the place
together, halted at the same inn to water our horses, and then
seeing that it was getting on towards dusk and that the wave
of the retreat was rolling onward in increased volume, I
pushed on and saw no more of him. Ungrateful Bray! Perfidious
Bray! Some day, when I have time, I must tell the
people of Chicago how Bray got into Washington, and how he

left his horse and what he did with it, and how Bray behaved
on the road. I dare say they who know him can guess.

The most significant article I have seen for some time as a
test of the taste, tone, and temper of the New York public,
judging by their most widely read journal, is contained in it
to-night. It appears that a gentleman named Muir, who is
described as a relative of Mr. Mure the consul at New
Orleans, was seized on the point of starting for Europe, and
that among his papers, many of which were of a "disloyal
character," which is not astonishing seeing that he came from
Charleston, was a letter written by a foreign resident in that
city, in which he stated he had seen a letter from me to Mr.
Bunch describing the flight at Bull Run, and adding that
Lord Lyons remarked, when he heard of it, he would ask Mr.
Seward whether he would not now admit the Confederates
were a belligerent power, whereupon Maudit calls on Mr.
Seward to demand explanations from Lord Lyons and to turn
me out of the country, because in my letter to the "Times" I
made the remark that the United States would probably now
admit the South were a belligerent power.

Such an original observation could never have occurred to
two people—genius concerting with genius could alone have
hammered it out. But Maudit is not satisfied with the humiliation
of Lord Lyons and the expulsion of myself—he
absolutely insists upon a miracle, and his moral vision being
as perverted as his physical, he declares that I must have sent
to the British Consul at Charleston a duplicate copy of the
letter which I furnished with so much labor and difficulty just
in time to catch the mail by special messenger from Boston.
"These be thy gods, O Israel!"

My attention was also directed to a letter from certain officers
of the disbanded 69th Regiment, who had permitted their
Colonel to be dragged away a prisoner from the field of Bull
Run. Without having read my letter, these gentlemen assumed
that I had stigmatized Captain T. F. Meagher as one
who had misconducted himself during the battle, whereas all
I had said on the evidence of eye-witnesses was, "that in the
rout he appeared at Centreville running across country and
uttering exclamations in the hearing of my informant, which
indicated that he at least was perfectly satisfied that the Confederates
had established their claims to be considered a belligerent
power." These officers state that Captain Meagher
behaved extremely well up to a certain point in the engagement

when they lost sight of him, and from which period they
could say nothing about him. It was subsequent to that very
time he appeared at Centreville, and long before my letter
returned to America giving credit to Captain Meagher for
natural gallantry in the field. I remarked that he would no
doubt feel as much pained as any of his friends, at the ridicule
cast upon him by the statement that he, the Captain of a company,
"Went into action mounted on a magnificent charger
and waving a green silk flag embroidered with a golden harp
in the face of the enemy."

A young man wearing the Indian war medal with two
clasps, who said his name was MacIvor Hilstock, came in
to inquire after some unknown friend of his. He told me he
had been in Tomb's troop of Artillery during the Indian mutiny,
and had afterwards served with the French volunteers
during the siege of Caprera. The news of the Civil War has
produced such an immigration of military adventurers from
Europe that the streets of Washington are quite filled with
medals and ribbons. The regular officers of the American
army regard them with considerable dislike, the greater inasmuch
as Mr. Seward and the politicians encourage them.
In alluding to the circumstance to General McDowell, who
came in to see me at a late dinner, I said, "A great many
Garibaldians are in Washington just now." "Oh," said he
in his quiet way, "it will be quite enough for a man to prove
that he once saw Garibaldi to satisfy us in Washington that
he is quite fit for the command of a regiment. I have recommended
a man because he sailed in the ship which Garibaldi
came in over here, and I'm sure it will be attended to."

August 27th.—Fever and ague, which Gen. McDowell
attributes to water-melons, of which he, however, had eaten
three times as much as I had. Swallowed many grains of
quinine, and lay panting in the heat in-doors. Two English
visitors, Mr. Lamy and a Captain of the 17th, called on me;
and, afterwards, I had a conversation with M. Mercier and
M. Stoeckl on the aspect of affairs. They are inclined to
look forward to a more speedy solution than I think the North
is weak enough to accept. I believe that peace is possible in
two years or so, but only by the concession to the South of a
qualified independence. The naval operations of the Federals
will test the Southern mettle to the utmost. Having a
sincere regard and liking for many of the Southerners whom
I have met, I cannot say their cause, or its origin, or its aim,

recommends itself to my sympathies; and yet I am accused of
aiding it by every means in ray power, because I do not reecho
the arrogant and empty boasting and insolent outbursts
of the people in the North, who threaten, as the first-fruits of
their success, to invade the territories subject to the British
crown, and to outrage and humiliate our flag.

It is melancholy enough to see this great republic tumbling
to pieces; one would regret it all the more but for the fact
that it reëchoed the voices of the obscene and filthy creatures
which have been driven before the lash of the lictor from all
the cities of Europe. Assuredly it was a great work, but all
its greatness and the idea of its life was of man, not of God.
The principle of veneration, of obedience, of subordination,
and self-control did not exist within. Washington-worship
could not save it. The elements of destruction lay equally
sized, smooth, and black at its foundations, and a spark suffices
to blow the structure into the air.

August 28th.—Raining. Sundry officers turned in to inquire
of me, who was quietly in bed at Washington, concerning
certain skirmishes reported to have taken place last night.
Sold one horse and bought another; that is, I paid ready
money in the latter transaction, and in the former, received an
order from an officer on the paymaster of his regiment, on a
certain day not yet arrived.

To-day, Lord A. V. Tempest is added to the number of
English arrivals; he amused me by narrating his reception at
Willard's on the night of his arrival. When he came in with
the usual ruck of passengers, he took his turn at the book, and
wrote down Lord Adolphus Vane Tempest, with possibly
M. P. after it. The clerk, who was busily engaged in showing
that he was perfectly indifferent to the claims of the
crowd who were waiting at the counter for their rooms, when
the book was finished, commenced looking over the names of
the various persons, such as Leonidas Buggs, Rome, N. Y.;
Doctor Onesiphorous Bowells, D. D., Syracuse; Olynthus
Craggs, Palmyra, Mo.; Washington Whilkes, Indianopolis,
writing down the numbers of the rooms, and handing over the
keys to the waiters at the same time. When he came to the
name of the English nobleman, he said, "Vane Tempest, No.
125." "But stop," cried Lord Adolphus. "Lycurgus Siccles,"
continued the clerk, "No. 23." "I insist upon it, sir,"
—broke in Lord Adolphus,—"you really must hear me.
I protest against being put in 125. I can't go up so high."

"Why," said the clerk, with infinite contempt. "I can put
you at twice as high—I'll give you No. 250 if I like." This
was rather too much, and Lord Adolphus put his things into
a cab, and drove about Washington until he got to earth in
the two-pair back of a dentist's, for which no doubt, tout vu,
he paid as much as for an apartment at the Hotel Bristol.

A gathering of American officers and others, amongst whom
was Mr. Olmsted, enabled him to form some idea of the young
men's society of Washington, which is a strange mixture of
politics and fighting, gossip, gayety, and a certain apprehension
of a wrath to come for their dear republic. Here is Olmsted
prepared to lay down his life for free speech over a united republic,
in one part of which his freedom of speech would lead
to irretrievable confusion and ruin; whilst Wise, on the other
hand, seeks only to establish a union which shall have a large
fleet, be powerful at sea, and be able to smash up Abolitionists,
newspaper people, and political agitators at home.

August 29th.—It is hard to bear such a fate as befalls an
unpopular man in the United States, because in no other country,
as De Tocqueville[1] remarks, is the press so powerful
when it is unanimous. And yet he says, too, "The journalist
of the United States is usually placed in a very humble
position, with a scanty education and a vulgar turn of mind.
His characteristics consist of an open and coarse appeal to
the passions of the populace, and he habitually abandons the
principles of political science to assail the characters of individuals,
to track them into private life, and disclose all their
weaknesses and errors. The individuals who are already in
possession of a high station in the esteem of their fellow-citizens
are afraid to write in the newspapers, and they are thus
deprived of the most powerful instrument which they can use
to excite the passions of the multitude to their advantage.
The personal opinions of the editors have no kind of weight
in the eyes of the public. The only use of a journal is, that
it imparts the knowledge of certain facts; and it is only by
altering and distorting those facts that a journalist can contribute
to the support of his own views." When the whole of
the press, without any exception in so far as I am aware, sets
deliberately to work, in order to calumniate, vilify, insult, and
abuse a man who is at once a stranger, a rival, and an Englishman,
he may expect but one result, according to De Tocqueville.

The teeming anonymous letters I receive are filled with
threats of assassination, tarring, feathering, and the like; and
one of the most conspicuous of literary sbirri is in perfect rapture
at the notion of a new "sensation" heading, for which he
is working as hard as he can. I have no intention to add to
the number of his castigations.

In the afternoon I drove to the waste grounds beyond the
Capitol, in company with Mr. Olmsted and Captain Haworth,
to see the 18th Massachusetts Regiment, who had just marched
in, and were pitching their tents very probably for the first
time. They arrived from their State with camp equipments,
wagons, horses, harness, commissariat stores complete, and
were clad in the blue uniform of the United States; for the
volunteer fancies in grays and greens are dying out. The men
were uncommonly stout young fellows, with an odd, slouching,
lounging air about some of them, however, which I could not
quite understand till I heard one sing out, "Hallo, sergeant,
where am I to sling my hammock in this tent?" Many of
them, in fact, are fishermen and sailors from Cape Cod, New
Haven, and similar maritime places.