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.