military chiefs of the conflicting parties, were
not only comrades, but intimate friends. When
Beauregard went into the North, he had no
other house than McClellan's; and when McClellan
went down South, he always took up his
quarters with Beauregard. On either side they
are acquainted with each other most intimately,
and it ought to be recorded that in both camps
might be perceived sentiments of chivalrous
esteem for old friends now become implacable
enemies.

In order to appreciate the value of this new
West Point element which is making its way to
the front in the fray of parties in the United
States, one requires to have had a near view of
the persons who are disputing with each other the
conduct of affairs. Since the days of Washington
and Jefferson, since the writing of M. de Tocqueville's
famous book, American manners have
greatly changed for the worse. In the midst
of an unheard-of material prosperity, of an
unexampled commercial and manufacturing
activity, the moral and intellectual level has been
sensibly lowered, principally in political regions.
The men who possess a certain amount of
authority, in consequence of their knowledge,
character, and fortune, have gradually retired from
public business, through disgust at the electoral
struggles, dislike to coming in contact with
venality, and fear of a violent, passionate, and
unscrupulous press. In the United States, it is the
fashion, a sort of stamp of respectability, to
abstain from polemic politics—exactly as in France
it is the rage to run after all sorts of public
functions. The last real American statesmen, such as
Clay, Webster, and Calhoun, have died within the
last ten years. But, if there still remain in the
government, in the opposition, and in temporary
retirement, a few intelligent, or moral, or patriotic
men—Seward, Sumner, Chase, Brekenridge,
Cass, and Everett—it still may be stated that,
generally, the conduct of the affairs of the Union
has become the monopoly of a certain number
of men without antecedents, without education,
and, too often, without morality, disguising under
senseless party names the absence of all prin-
ciple, and a blind obedience to the caprice of the
multitude.*

* See "The Young Man from the Country," page
540, volume vi.

Is it surprising, then, that under circumstances
so humiliating to the national pride, and
complicated by a violent crisis, the public should
instinctively turn to a class of men, who, both
by education and profession, are the enemies of
moral and material disorder,—who have taken for
their model, both in their soldierly career and in
their duties as citizens, the great founder of the
Republic, Washington?

The imperial party paid a visit to General
McDowell, then commanding the troops
encamped on the right bank of the Potomac. When
the prince entered his quarters, the general was
busy drawing up a detailed and careful plan of
the battle of Bull's Run, to illustrate his report,
which was shortly to appear.

General McDowell is forty-three, tall and strong.
His countenance is not very intellectual,
but remarkably open and sympathetic, with
an expression of frankness and good nature. His
conversation, temper, and principles, are still
superior to his outward appearance, prepossessing
as that may be. He is a most straightforward,
truthful, and unaffected person. He had
suffered a terrible check, and he spoke of it without
bitterness or recrimination, with an accent
of sincerity, and an elevation of sentiment, which
did him the greatest honour. Deprived of the
chief command, in consequence of that reverse,
he saw McClellan, his West Point schoolfellow,
several years younger than himself, inherit his
honours, his position, and his growing
popularity. He retained, without complaint or after-
thought, an inferior place under the man whose
mission was to repair the misfortune coupled
with his own name. And, with all this, nobody
doubts that McDowell is the most obedient and
devoted of McClellan's lieutenants.

After having seen the army of the North, and
made intimate acquaintance with its principal
generals, the prince desired to inspect the Secessionist
camp under equally favourable circumstances.
Delicacy prevented him from mentioning
that wish directly to the Federal government, so
he projected an excursion to Mount Vernon, close
by, as a hint. The excursion was made, without
the hint being taken. It was therefore
decided that the French minister, Baron Mercier,
should break the ice, and distinctly request for
his imperial highness permission to traverse
the lines of the army of the Union and pass over
to the Confederate camp. The American
minister received the application with a readiness
and good will, which proved that in affairs
in America there is no occasion to be either too
scrupulous or too diplomatic. Mr. Seward
replied by the immediate offer of his services. The
news soon spread, and numerous generals,
senators, and members, complimented the prince
on an idea which appeared to them completely
in the American taste. "You have seen one
side," they said, "you ought now to see the
other; and we hope, for the honour of America,
that they will receive you as well as we have
received you ourselves."

At eleven in the morning, they found
themselves in the unoccupied and neutral zone which
separates the two armies. This part of Virginia
is severe and monotonous, scarcely peopled,
almost uncultivated. The ground, slightly
undulating, offers nothing, as far as the view can
reach, but woods intersected by wide glades,
with a few sparse rural habitations which bear
the trace of recent disasters. They followed a
broad but ill-kept road, which goes from
Alexandria to Warrentou by Fairfax and Centreville,
and traverses Bull's Run about two miles from
the latter spot. About twelve miles from Alexandria
at noon, their escort made a sudden stop.
The officer, followed by his standard-bearer and
trumpeter, galloped forward. They had fallen in
with the outposts of the army of the South.

Matters passed in the most regular and
courteous manner. A Secessionist officer came