FRIENDS IN COUNCIL.
I may not deny that I found the places in which my lines were just then
cast exceedingly pleasant: if no serious purpose had been before me I
could have been contented to sojourn there till spring had waned. But it
is some satisfaction now to be able to think and say--I do say it, in
perfect honesty and sincerity--that I did not lose sight of my journey's
main object for one single day from first to last. Indeed I should have
felt far more impatient of delay had it not been for the continuance of
foul weather, and recurrence of heavy storms, which made armies no less
than individuals, impotent to act or move. On the morning following my
arrival, I took counsel with one who was, perhaps, better able to advise
me as to my future course than any one then resident in Baltimore:
certainly none could have been more heartily willing to help, both in
word and deed. I owe to that man much more than a debt of ordinary
hospitality. To say that his courtesy and cordiality were marked, where
benevolence to a stranger is the rule, would very faintly express the
personal trouble he undertook and the personal risk he incurred in his
efforts to facilitate and further my purposes. Up to this moment I do
not believe that he has grudged one whit of all this, much as he may
have chafed at all having proved unavailing. I am right sorry that
prudence forbids my chronicling here a name which will always stand high
on my muster-roll of friends; but the memory of almost any Englishman
who has visited Baltimore will fill up the blank that I must leave
perforce.
It seemed that there was a choice of two routes into Secessia. The
first--in many respects the easiest, and far the most traveled--lay
through the lower counties of Maryland: the narrow peninsula on which
Leonardstown is situated forming the starting point, whence the
blockade-runner took to cross the Lower Potomac--there, from four to
eight miles wide. It was necessary to run the gauntlet of several
gun-boats and smaller craft; but traffic at that particular time was
carried on with tolerable regularity, and captures, though not
unfrequent, were, so far, exceptions to a rule. On the land route,
before reaching the point of embarkation, lay the chief difficulties. A
horseman traveling with saddle-bags, became at once a suspicious
personage, liable everywhere to jealous scrutiny. The main roads were
already becoming so cut up as to be traversed only with great toil and
difficulty by ordinary vehicles, while the cross roads were simply
impassable by wheels. The principal turnpikes still hard enough to carry
a "stage," _e. g._, that from Washington to Leonardstown, were more
carefully guarded, and picketed at certain points, especially bridges.
At any one of these points, a search might be apprehended, and anything
beyond the simplest necessaries was liable to seizure as contraband of
war; personal arrest might possibly follow, but the Federal outposts
were said to content themselves, as a rule, with confiscation and
appropriation, unless any documents of a compromising nature were found.
Such a course was obviously pleasanter for all parties, than sending in
prisoners--with their effects. Now it so chanced, that in the
modest--not to say scanty--outfit, which I thought it worth while to
bring out from home, was a certain pair of riding boots, by which I set
especial store. They were such as many of our field-officers now in
Canada are in the habit of wearing--coming high up on the thigh,
perfectly water-proof, but very light, and pliant as a glove. I saw
nothing of American manufacture to compare with them. Some of my
duck-shooting acquaintance at Baltimore were never weary of admiring
their fair proportions; nor did my sage counselor, before alluded to,
refuse his warm approbation; but he urged very strongly the hazard of my
wearing them on my way to the Lower Potomac--to carry or transmit them
otherwise was simply impossible. Nevertheless, neither Bombastes nor
Dalgetty could have clung more obstinately to this favorite _chaussure_
than did I to mine. I knew that in the South, where an ordinary pair of
cavalry boots commands readily seventy dollars or more, they could not
be matched, and I had not
Lived in the saddle for years a score,
without learning that on a long march the value of thoroughly well
fitting and comfortable nether integuments is "above rubies." And they
did carry me right well and safely through many rough ways and much wild
weather, impervious alike to water, mud, rain, or snow. I _will_ give
honor where honor is due. Fagg, of Panton street, was the architect.[1]
So I "set my foot down," literally and metaphorically, on this point,
absolutely determined that boots and saddle-bags should share my
fortunes. Eventually I compromised things, by investing in a colossal
pair of overalls, warranted to smother and obliterate the proportions of
any human legs, however encased beneath.
[Footnote 1: If this looks like an "advertisement," I can't help it, and
only say that it is a disinterested one; it may be long before I need
water-proofs again, and I owe their deserving manufacturer nothing
but--justice.]
But during this discussion the other route came naturally into question.
It was the one most generally attempted by horsemen, and during the last
ten weeks had been traversed repeatedly with perfect success.
In this neighborhood there were one or two fords, easily crossed at
ordinary seasons, and only impassable after continuous downfalls of snow
or rain. In fact, the chief obstacle was not the river but the
Chesapeake and Ohio canal, which runs close along the northern bank from
Cumberland to Washington. It is not broad, but very deep, muddy, and
precipitous, nor could I hear of any one who had succeeded in getting a
horse across it, or who had even made the attempt. The only passages
were by bridges over, and culverts under, the water-way. These were, of
course, zealously guarded; but it was possible, occasionally, to attack
a picket with an irresistible "silver spear;" and several instances had
lately occurred of sentinels keeping their eyes and ears shut fast
during the brief time required for a small mounted party to pass their
posts. I do not mean to insinuate that venality was the general rule; so
far from this being the case, I understood that it was necessary to make
such overtures with great caution, while the negotiation involved
certain delay and possible failure. Detachments were constantly shifted
from point to point, and regiments from station to station. Some corps
were notoriously more accessible than others. According to common
report, the recruits from New England, Massachusetts, and Connecticut
were the easiest to deal with, and the subalterns were said to be
usually open to a fair offer. But perhaps this was a scandal after all;
for the Marylander holds the Yankee proper in such bitter dislike and
contempt that he would miss no chance of a by-blow.
Once over the river at this point and you were comparatively safe. There
were no regular pickets or patrols on the further bank, and only
scattered reconnoitering parties of cavalry were to be evaded. Under
cover of darkness, with a good local guide, this was easily done--one
long night's ride.
To this route my Mentor and I did at last seriously incline, for good
and sufficient reasons.
The Southern "trooper" fares, I believe, far better in many ways than
his Northern compeer. Besides being more carefully groomed and tended,
he carries a rider better able to husband a failing animal's strength,
so as to "nurse him home." But the "raiders" travel often far and fast
through a country fetlock-deep on light land, where provender is scanty
and shelter there is none. The daily wear and tear of horse-flesh during
this last bitter winter has been something fearful, and even at the time
I speak of the difficulty of obtaining a really serviceable "mount" in
Virginia could hardly be over-estimated. From one thousand to one
thousand five hundred dollars were spoken of as ordinary prices for a
fair charger, and men willing to give that sum had been forced to go
into South Carolina before they could suit themselves. In my own case
the difficulty was increased; for in hard condition, without cloak,
valise, or accoutrements, I drew fourteen stone one pound, in a common
hunting-saddle. Now, an animal well up to that weight, with anything
like action on a turn of speed, is right hard to find on the
Transatlantic seaboard. Even in Maryland, where horse-flesh is
comparatively plenty, and breeders of blood-stock abound, such a
specimen is a rarity. Even among the stallions, I can scarcely remember
one coming up to the standard of a real weight-carrier, with the
exception of Black Hawk. I saw hundreds of active, wiry hackneys,
excellently adapted for fast, _light_ work, either in shafts or under
saddle; their courage and endurance, too, are beyond question; but
looking at them with a view to long, repeated marches (where--if
ever--you ought to have ten "pounds in hand"), I decided that they were
about able to carry--the boots honorably mentioned above. However, after
mature consideration and long debate, it was settled that I should, if
possible, be mounted before starting, instead of trusting to chance
beyond the border. This, of course, decided the selection of routes: no
quadruped could cross the Lower Potomac.
Some scores of miles up the country there lived, and I trust lives
still, a certain small horse-dealer, a firm Secessionist at heart, well
versed in the time-tables of the road southward; indeed, his house was,
as it were, a principal station on the underground railway. He was
reputed trustworthy, and fairly honest in traffic. I can indorse this
conscientiously, only hoping that such a remarkable characteristic as
the last named will not identify the individual to his hurt. I was at
once put into communication with Mr. ---- Symonds, let us call him, for
the sake of old hippic memories. He spoke confidently as to my ultimate
prospects of getting across, without pretending to fix an exact day, or
even week. Shortly before my arrival he had forwarded several travelers,
who arrived at their journey's end without the slightest let or
hindrance. I suppose there is no indiscretion in saying that Lord
Hartington and Colonel Leslie were among the fortunate ones. Mr. Symonds
"thought he had something that would suit me," and, a few days later,
the animal and the dealer paraded for inspection in Baltimore.
I was much pleased with both. The man seemed to understand his business
thoroughly; without making extravagant promises, he expressed himself
willing to serve my purpose to the utmost of his power, at any
reasonable risk to himself, and spoke very moderately about the horse,
asking for nothing more than a fair trial of his merits. I liked the
animal better than anything I had seen so far. He was a dark-brown
gelding, about 15.3, with strong, square hind-quarters, and a fair slope
of shoulder--without much knee-action--but springy enough in his slow
paces: his turn of speed was not remarkable, but he could last forever,
and, if the ground were not too heavy, would gallop on easily for miles
with a long, steady stride; like most Maryland-bred horses, he had
wonderfully clean, flat legs: after the hardest day's work, I never saw
a puff on them; he was not sulky or savage, but had a temper and will of
his own; both of these, however, yielded, after a sharp wrangle or two,
to the combined influence of coaxing and a pair of sharp English rowels:
in the latter days of our acquaintance we never had a difference of
opinion. Considering the scarcity of staunch horse-flesh, the price
asked was very moderate, and I closed the bargain on the spot. I was
assured that my new purchase was of the Black Hawk stock, and he was
christened "Falcon" that same day.
So Mr. Symonds departed, promising to set all possible wheels to work,
and to inform me of the earliest opportunity for a start, the first
_desideratum_ being, of course, a reliable guide.
I cannot say that the hours of my detention hung heavily. The social
attractions of the place were ample enough to fill up afternoons and
evenings right pleasantly. In the mornings, whenever the weather was not
pitilessly bad, I rode or drove through the country round.
I think no one understands the full luxury of rapid motion without
bodily exertion, till they have sat behind a pair of first-class
American trotters. The "wagon," to begin with, is a mechanical triumph.
It is wonderful to see such lightness combined with such strength and
stability. I have seen one, after five years' constant usage over
fearfully bad roads. It was owned by a man noted for reckless pace,
where many Jehus drove furiously; not a bolt or joint had started, the
hickory of shafts and spokes still seemed tough as hammered steel. These
carriages are roomy enough, and fairly comfortable, when you are in
them, but that same entrance is apt rather to puzzle a stranger. The
fore and hind wheels are nearly the same height, and set very close
together; even when the fore-carriage is turned so that they nearly
lock, the space left for ascent between them is narrow indeed; this same
arrangement renders, of course, impossible a sudden turn in a contracted
circle. But the dames and demoiselles who put their trust in these rapid
chariots, make a mock at such small difficulties. You are shamed into
activity after once seeing your fair charge spring to her place, with
graceful confidence, never soiling the skirt of her dainty robe.
The team that I used to drive constantly were fair, but not remarkable
performers; their best mile-time was a trifle under three minutes twenty
seconds. Their owner had not had leisure to keep them in steady
exercise, so that at first they were very skittish, and prone to break;
but they soon settled down to their work, and then did not pull an ounce
too much for pleasure, even when spinning along at top-speed, with their
small lean heads thrust eagerly forward, after the fashion of the barbs
called "Drinkers of the Wind." Once I drove, in single harness, a
trotter whose time was close on two minutes forty-five seconds; but this
is not considered anything extraordinary, and the outside price of such
an animal would be under one thousand dollars: once "inside the forties"
the fancy prices begin, and go up rapidly to four thousand dollars, or
higher.
It must be remembered that the roads in these parts cannot be compared,
either for level or metal, with the highways over our champagne, they
"cut up" fast in rough weather, and settle slowly, while the ground
generally sinks and swells too abruptly to allow of a lengthened stretch
at full speed. I often wished that the whole "turn-out" of which I have
spoken could be transported, without the risk of sea-passage, into one
of our eastern counties. I can hardly conceive a greater luxury to a
"coachman" than sending such a pair along on the road leading into
Norfolk from Newmarket.
I had been some time in Baltimore before I was honored by an
introduction to the most renowned--it is a bold word--of all its
beauties. To many, even in England, the name of "Flora Temple" will not
sound strange: her great feat of the mile in two minutes nineteen
seconds has never yet been equaled, and for the last three years she has
rested idly on her laurels, in default of any challenger to dispute her
sovereignty of the turf. Her owner, W. Macdonald, Esq., resides within a
short distance of the city, and, I doubt not, would receive any stranger
with the same courtesy that he extended to me. His stables are well
worth a visit, for, besides the fair champion, they contain several
other trotters of no mean repute (one team, the "Chicago Chestnuts," is
a notoriety), and the carriages exemplify every improvement of American
manufacture. The building itself is very peculiar--perfectly circular,
with a diameter of one hundred feet, and a dome-roof rising to fifty
feet at the crown. In the centre is a large fountain of white marble,
round which is a broad tan-ride, and outside this again the stalls,
horse boxes, harness and carriage apartments.
On the left-hand side of the entrance-arch is a large chamber,
rush-strewn, like the firing-room of some ancient châtelaine, but
brilliant with polished wood and metal, gorgeous with stained glass:
that is the boudoir of the Queen of the Turf, and over the door-way are
her titles of honor emblazoned. The Great Lady, as is the wont of her
compeers, is somewhat capricious at times, and disinclined to parade her
beauty before strangers; but she chanced to be in a special good humor
that day, and allowed me to admire her "points" at leisure.
It is hard to fancy a more faultless picture of compact activity and
strength. Viewed from a distance, and, at first sight, her proportions
deceive every one; you are surprised, indeed, when you come close to her
withers, and find that you are standing by a veritable pony, barely
reaching fourteen hands three inches. But look at the long slope of
shoulder--the chest wide enough to give the largest lungs free play in
their labor--the flat, square quarters, the muscular fullness of the
upper limbs, so perfectly "let down," the clear, sinewy legs, without a
curb-mark or windfall to tell tales of fearfully fast work and hard
training--and you will wonder less how the championship was won. They
say that the Queen was never fitter than now; yet since her zenith she
has seldom rested, and is now long past the equine climacteric, and far
advanced in her teens.
This part of America is so constantly visited by my compatriots, that it
may be well, while we are on this subject, to say a few words about the
sporting resources of Maryland.
There is very fair partridge-shooting in many districts. As I crossed
the country in mid-winter, I could hardly judge of what the autumn cover
would be; but I heard that of this there was no lack, and that in
October the birds would lie right well, especially in the weedy
stubbles, and along the brushy banks of water-courses. In many places a
fair shot may reckon on from ten to fifteen brace, and I could name two
guns that have not unfrequently bagged from thirty to fifty brace on the
Eastern Shore; but I believe they shot with unusually "straight powder."
There is a good show of woodcock at certain seasons; but it sounds
strange to English ears when they speak of the season opening in June;
the bird is much smaller than ours, weighing, I believe, about seven or
eight ounces, and it is found much oftener in comparatively open ground
than in thick woodland.
But the royal sport of Maryland is the wildfowl shooting on the
Chesapeake Bay. The best of the season was passed long before my
arrival; but in two visits to Carroll's Island, I saw enough to feel
sure that my Baltimore friends vaunted not its capabilities in vain. I
cannot remember having seen elsewhere so promising a "ducking-point."
Imagine a low, marshy peninsula, verging landward into stunted woods,
full of irregular water-courses and stagnant pools--tapering off seaward
into a mere spit of sand, on which reeds and bent-grass scarcely deign
to grow, towards the extreme point, just where the neck is narrowest,
are the "blinds"--ten or twelve in number--a long gunshot apart, in
which the "fowlers" lurk, waiting for their prey. On either side stretch
the broad estuary of the Gunpowder River, and the broader waters of the
Chesapeake, along whose shallows lie the banks of the wild celery on
which the canvas-back loves to feed. Changing these feeding-grounds soon
after dawn and shortly before sunset, the fowls naturally cross the neck
of the little peninsula: they will never willingly pass over land,
unless they can see water close beyond. Occasionally you may have fair
shooting all through the day, but, as a rule, the above-mentioned hours
are those alone when good "flying" may be reckoned on. When it _is_
good, the sport must be superb: it is the very sublimation of
"rocketing." You must hold straight and forward to stop a cock-pheasant
whizzing over the leafless tree-tops--well up in the keen January wind;
but a swifter traveler yet is the canvas-back drake, as he swings over
the bar, at the fullest speed of his whistling pinions, disdaining to
turn a foot from his appointed course, albeit vaguely suspecting the
ambush below. The height of the "flying" varies, of course, greatly. I
saw nothing brought down, to the best of my calculation, within
forty-five or fifty yards, and most were much beyond that distance. At
first you let several chances slip, believing them to be out of shot;
but the mighty duck-guns, carrying five or six drams of strong coarse
powder, do their work gallantly; and nothing can be more refreshing than
the _aplomb_ with which their victims, stricken down from that dizzy
height, strike water, reeds, or sand.
Among the many varieties of fowl--varying from wild swan to
widgeon--that are slain here, the canvas-back holds, by common consent,
the pre-eminence for delicacy of flavor and tenderness of meat; but I
confess I have thought almost as highly of an occasional "red-head" in
perfect condition.
This, the most celebrated of all ducking points on the Chesapeake, is
rented by a club, the members of which are all resident in Baltimore, or
its neighborhood; the number, I think, is limited to twelve. When they
muster in force, the sleeping accommodation must necessarily be limited,
as Mr. Russell describes it; but there is room and verge enough in the
quaint old homestead of the proprietor for any ordinary party. The burly
host himself is quite in keeping with the place, and bears his part
right jovially in the rough-and-ready revels that contrast not
disagreeably with the social amenities left behind in the city. I spent
some very pleasant hours of sunshine and twilight at the "Colonel's";
(he has as good a right to the title as many more pretentious
dignitaries), though the "flying" was indifferent on both my visits. On
the first occasion, though several varieties of fowl were bagged, we
only secured one canvas-back, which was courteous enough to tumble to
the stranger's gun. Sooth to say, the first interview with the
uncompromising contraband who hakes you _is_ a trial, and it is bitterly
cold work for feet and fingers, when you first come into your "blind"
under the early dawn; but the blood soon warms up as the warning cries
from the markers become more frequent; the pulse quickens as the dark
specks or lines loom nearer, defined against the dull red or silvery
gray of the sky-line; chills and shivers are all forgotten, as your
first "red-head," pioneer of a whole "skeen" from the river--crashes
down yards behind you, on the hard, wet sand that fringes the bay.
In the genial October weather, during which comes the cream of the
flying, the sojourn at Carroll's Island must be enviably delightful. But
much I fear, that next autumn's prospects look brighter for the fowl
than for their sedulous persecutors. Who can say what changes may have
been wrought in the fortunes of some of those cheery sportsmen before
next season shall open. Perhaps ere that the echoes of the Chesapeake
will be waked by an artillery that would drown the roar even of the
mighty duck-gun. The sea-fishing in the bay is remarkably good, but it
is not greatly affected by amateurs; and very few yachts are seen on its
usually placid waters. Almost all the streams round the Chesapeake, in
spite of their being perpetually "thrashed," and never preserved, abound
in small trout; but farther afield, in Northwestern Maryland, where the
tributaries of the Potomac and Shenandoah flow down the woody ravines of
Cheat Mountain and the Blue Ridge, there is room for any number of
fly-rods, and fish heavy enough to bend the stiffest of them all.
Before troubles began, they used to hunt, after a fashion, in most of
the upland districts; but the sport can hardly be very exciting. The
gravest of the "potterings" of ancient days, when our great-grandsires
used to "drag" up their fox while the dew lay heavy on the grass, was a
"cracker" compared to one of these runs, as I heard them described.
Three or four couple of cross-bred hounds do occasionally weary and
worry to death their unhappy quarry, after three or four hours "ringing"
through endless woodlands; unless, indeed, he goes earlier to ground, in
which case he is dug out to meet a quicker and more merciful death. The
fact, that a heavy fall of snow is supposed greatly to facilitate
matters, about settles the question of "sport." I should like to ask
Charles Payne, or Goddard, their opinion of "pricking" a fox. However,
to ride straight and fast over such a country would be simply
impossible; their detestable snake-fences meet you everywhere, with
their projecting "zigzags" of loosely-piled rails; you can hardly ever
get a chance of taking them in your stride, and they are a fair standing
jump with the top bar removed, which generally involves dismounting. The
name of poor Falcon had led me so far afield, that I must continue my
own chronicle in another chapter.