another, "You should see what sort of officers
we have. A lawyer, a hairdresser, or an
apothecary, raises a company, or battalion, which
he calls a regiment, and of which he styles
himself colonel or captain. He promises us, if
we will only be induced to enlist, roasted larks
with sauce à la victoire; but at the first shot our
colonel, the lawyer, and our captain, the
hairdresser, who perhaps know very well how to
handle a pen and curling-irons, but who are
entirely ignorant of the management of a sword
or musket, run away, together with their soldiers
of a fortnight's standing. This is what happened
at Bull Run. I have been made a corporal,
because I know fifteen English words. The
other day I gave an order to an American
soldier, who turned round and asked me the
meaning of it. Now what would you have
me do with soldiers who want an explanation
of en avant, marche? From the least to
the greatest, all want to command, and none
obey."

At Washington M. Sand had opportunities
of meeting men whose names are just now
intimately associated with American affairs. He
accompanied Prince Napoleon to the White
House, where they were received by Mr. Seward,
whom he describes as an intelligent man, with a
countenance expressive of energy and refinement.
Dressed in a yellow linen paletot and a
broad-brimmed hat, Mr. Seward somewhat
resembled—though only at first sight—a small
country landlord. In Congress he is the
personification of the Republican party, and from
his courageous opposition to the anti-abolitionists,
has the honour of being burnt in effigy
in the South. After waiting a few minutes, a
small door opened, and gave the visitors access
to a very tall thin gentleman, dressed in black,
and holding in his large shaggy hands a pair of
white gloves, which had never been put on, and
never could be. A long nose, a large mouth, a
small soft eye, hollow cheeks, the beard arranged
à l'Américaine—"a fashion which would make
even Jupiter himself look vulgar—a tuft of
long hair brushed up from the forehead and
bending over it like a weeping-willow, and a
pleasant face not without attractiveness—
here you have the chief physical characteristics
of President Lincoln." Honest Abe, as they
call him, advanced to meet his visitors with
a timid awkward manner, and, after shaking
hands with them, endeavoured to commence
a friendly conversation." 'How many days
were you coming from Europe?' ' Is it to
the son of Lucien Bonaparte that I have the
honour of speaking?' ' How do you like
America?' 'It is very warm!' The worthy
man was evidently full of kindness; but, while
he was the actual representative of freedom, he
himself possessed no touch of it either in speech
or manners."

During the same day, M. Sand met Generals
Scott and M'Clellan. The former he describes
as a tall stout old man of seventy-five, a
hero at Vera Cruz and in Mexico in 1847.
"I was asked," says M. Sand, "if I did not
think he resembled Napoleon the First. But,
with the very best intentions in the world,
I could discover nothing in his appearance but
an exceedingly English character. M'Clellan
is a man of about thirty-five years of age,
energetic and intelligent, with simple modest
manners. During the time of the war in the Crimea
he made a journey there for the purpose of military
improvement."

General M'Dowell's camp, being situated last
August, after the sad affair at Bull Run, close
to Washington, on the other side of the Potomac,
M. Sand, crossing the river in order to visit it,
occupied himself in noticing the different
occupations of the soldiers. Almost the first thing
he observed on entering the camp, was a group
of twenty soldiers sitting with their wives in a
circle on the ground, under some large trees,
singing psalms. There were, of course, the
ordinary accompaniments of camp-life—tents,
waggons, bundles of muskets, sentinels, couriers,
groups of officers—but what struck the
attention of our French friend most was the
entire absence of gaiety and fun. A fine
mansion, previously belonging to a
Secessionist, was in use as general quarters; long
rows of horses, tied up to the trees in the park,
were grazing on the contents of ornamental
flower-baskets; and a herd of oxen were stupidly
splashing themselves in the ponds, waiting their
turn to serve their country after their manner
as beef. Here the prince and his party met
General M'Dowell, who, with much simplicity
and clearness, explained to the prince in French,
by maps and plans, the evolutions of the armies
on the 21st July.

The travellers also visited the Confederate
camps. They were provided with a Union escort
from Washington as far as the neutral ground
between. Here they were received by a troop of
Virginian Confederate cavalry, strong hardy
horsemen, who conducted them to the camp at
Fairfax, which they found pleasantly situated
on the sides of well-wooded eminences. The
men had an extremely picturesque appearance,
and here, at least, they did not seem to be playing
at soldiers. Leaving Fairfax, the party set
out for Centreville, the road to which was
covered by lamentable traces of the precipitous
flight of the Unionists. In the
neighbourhood of Centreville is Bull Run, the little
river which has given its name to the Federal
defeat. M. Sand visited it, and found, in
the once peaceful country which surrounded
it, the dismal spectacle which a deserted field
of battle always presents. Trees mutilated
by shot, cottages in ruin, spiked cannon, dead
horses, and birds of prey. Many and loud
complaints were made on both sides, of the
inhumanity shown to the wounded. The North
accused the South of having violated a church,
used as a hospital for fifteen hundred of their
men, by firing on the wounded and the surgeons
—a charge which the South wholly denied, and
brought counter-charges against the Unionists
of treasonable murder, under a false flag.
On both sides there existed such implacable