Dinner at General Scott’s--Anecdotes of General Scott’s early
life--The startling dispatch--Insecurity of the Capital.
_April 10th._--To-day I devoted to packing up such things as
I did not require, and sending them to New York. I received a
characteristic note from General Scott, asking me to dine with him
to-morrow, and apologising for the shortness of his invitation,
which arose from his only having just heard that I was about to
leave so soon for the South. The General is much admired by his
countrymen, though they do not spare some “amiable weaknesses;”
but, in my mind, he can only be accused of a little vanity, which
is often found in characters of the highest standard. He likes
to display his reading, and is troubled with a desire to indulge
in fine writing. Some time ago he wrote a long letter to the
“National Intelligencer,” in which he quoted Shakspere and Paley
to prove that President Buchanan ought to have garrisoned the
forts at Charleston and Pensacola, as he advised him to do; and he
has been the victim of poetic aspirations. The General’s dinner
hour was early; and when I arrived at his modest lodgings, which,
however, were in the house of a famous French cook, I found a
troop of mounted volunteers of the district, parading up and down
the street. They were not bad of their class, and the horses,
though light, were active, hardy, and spirited; but the men put
on their uniforms badly, wore long hair, their coats and buttons
and boots were unbrushed, and the horses’ coats and accoutrements
bore evidence of neglect. The General, who wore an undress blue
frock-coat, with eagle-covered brass buttons, and velvet collar and
cuffs, was with Mr. Seward and Mr. Bates, the Attorney-General, and
received me very courteously. He was interrupted by cheering from
the soldiers in the street, and by clamours for “General Scott.” He
moves with difficulty, owing to a fall from his horse, and from the
pressure of increasing years; and he evidently would not have gone
out if he could have avoided it. But there is no privacy for public
men in America.
Out the General went to them, and addressed a few words to his
audience in the usual style about “rallying round,” and “dying
gloriously,” and “old flag of our country,” and all that kind of
thing; after which, the band struck up “Yankee Doodle.” Mr. Seward
called out “General, make them play the ‘Star-Spangled Banner,’
and ‘Hail Columbia.’” And so I was treated to the strains of the
old bacchanalian chant, “When Bibo,” &c., which the Americans
have impressed to do duty as a national air. Then came an attempt
to play “God save the Queen,” which I duly appreciated as a
compliment; and then followed dinner, which did credit to the
cook, and wine, which was most excellent, from France, Spain,
and Madeira. The only addition to our party was Major Cullum,
aide-de-camp to General Scott, an United States’ engineer, educated
at West Point. The General underwent a little badinage about the
phrase “a hasty plate of soup,” which he used in one of his
despatches during the Mexican War, and he appealed to me to decide
whether it was so erroneous or ridiculous as Mr. Seward insisted.
I said I was not a judge, but certainly similar liberal usage of a
well-known figure of prosody might be found to justify the phrase.
The only attendants at table were the General’s English valet and
a coloured servant; and the table apparatus which bore such good
things was simple and unpretending. Of course the conversation was
of a general character, and the General, evidently picking out his
words with great precision, took the lead in it, telling anecdotes
of great length, graced now and then with episodes, and fortified
by such episodes as--“Bear with me, dear sir, for a while, that I
may here diverge from the main current of my story, and proceed to
mention a curious----” &c., and so on.
To me his conversation was very interesting, particularly that
portion which referred to his part in the last war, where he was
wounded and taken prisoner. He gave an account of the Battle of
Chippewa, which was, he said, fought on true scientific principles;
and in the ignorance common to most Englishmen of reverses to their
arms, I was injudicious enough, when the battle was at its height,
and whole masses of men were moving in battalions and columns over
the table, to ask how many were engaged. The General made the most
of his side: “We had, sir, twenty-one hundred and seventy-five men
in the field.” He told us how, when the British men-of-war provoked
general indignation in Virginia by searching American vessels for
deserters in the Chesapeake, the State of Virginia organised a
volunteer force to guard the shores, and, above all things, to
prevent the country people sending down supplies to the vessels,
in pursuance of the orders of the Legislature and Governor. Young
Scott, then reading for the bar, became corporal of a troop of
these patrols. One night, as they were on duty by the banks of the
Potomac, they heard a boat with muffled oars coming rapidly down
the river, and soon saw her approaching quite close to the shore
under cover of the trees. When she was abreast of the troopers,
Scott challenged “What boat is that?” “It’s His Majesty’s ship
‘Leopard,’ and what the d---- is that to you? Give way, my lads!”
“I at once called on him to surrender,” said the General, “and
giving the word to charge, we dashed into the water. Fortunately,
it was not deep, and the midshipman in charge, taken by surprise
by a superior force, did not attempt to resist us. We found the
boat manned by four sailors, and filled with vegetables and other
supplies, and took possession of it; and I believe it is the first
instance of a man-of-war’s boat being captured by cavalry. The
Legislature of Virginia, however, did not approve of the capture,
and the officer was given up accordingly.
“Many years afterwards, when I visited Europe, I happened to be
dining at the hospitable mansion of Lord Holland, and observed
during the banquet that a gentleman at table was scrutinising my
countenance in a manner indicative of some special curiosity.
Several times, as my eye wandered in his direction, I perceived
that he had been continuing his investigations, and at length I
rebuked him by a continuous glance. After dinner, this gentleman
came round to me and said, ‘General Scott, I hope you will pardon
my rudeness in staring at you, but the fact is that you bear a
most remarkable resemblance to a great overgrown, clumsy, country
fellow of the same name, who took me prisoner in my boat when I was
a midshipman in the “Chesapeake,” at the head of a body of mounted
men. He was, I remember quite well, Corporal Scott,’ ‘That Corporal
Scott, sir, and the individual who addresses you, are identical
one with the other.’ The officer whose acquaintance I thus so
auspiciously renewed, was Captain Fox, a relation of Lord Holland,
and a post-captain in the British navy.”
Whilst he was speaking, a telegraphic dispatch was brought in,
which the General perused with evident uneasiness. He apologised
to me for reading it by saying the dispatch was from the President
on Cabinet business, and then handed it across the table to Mr.
Seward. The Secretary read it, and became a little agitated, and
raised his eyes inquiringly to the General’s face, who only shook
his head. Then the paper was given to Mr. Bates, who read it, and
gave a grunt, as it were, of surprise. The General took back the
paper, read it twice over, and then folded it up and put it in his
pocket. “You had better not put it there, General,” interposed Mr.
Seward; “it will be getting lost, or into some other hands.” And so
the General seemed to think, for he immediately threw it into the
fire, before which certain bottles of claret were gently mellowing.
The communication was evidently of a very unpleasant character. In
order to give the Ministers opportunity for a conference, I asked
Major Cullum to accompany me into the garden, and lighted a cigar.
As I was walking about in the twilight, I observed two figures at
the end of the little enclosure, standing as if in concealment
close to the wall. Major Cullum said “The men you see are sentries
I have thought it expedient to place there for the protection of
the General. The villains might assassinate him, and would do it in
a moment if they could. He would not hear of a guard, nor anything
of the sort, so, without his knowing it, I have sentries posted
all round the house all night.” This was a curious state of things
for the commander of the American army, in the midst of a crowded
city, the capital of the free and enlightened Republic, to be
placed in! On our return to the sitting-room, the conversation was
continued some hour or so longer. I retired with Mr. Seward in his
carriage. As we were going up Pennsylvania Avenue--almost lifeless
at that time--I asked Mr. Seward whether he felt quite secure
against any irruption from Virginia, as it was reported that one
Ben McCullough, the famous Texan desperado, had assembled 500 men
at Richmond for some daring enterprise: some said to carry off the
President, cabinet, and all. He replied that, although the capital
was almost defenceless, it must be remembered that the bold bad men
who were their enemies were equally unprepared for active measures
of aggression.