My Diary North and South – William Howard Russell
    

William Howard Russell’s Diary.

October 20th.–I saw General McClellan to-day, who gave me to understand that some small movement might take place on the right. I rode up to the Chain Bridge and across it for some miles into Virginia, but all was quiet. The sergeant at the post on the south side of the bridge had some doubts of the genuineness of my pass, or rather of its bearer.

“I heard you were gone back to London, where I am coming to see you some fine day with the boys here.”

“No, sergeant, I am not gone yet, but when will your visit take place?”

“Oh, as soon as we have finished with the gentlemen across there.”

“Have you any notion when that will be?”

“Just as soon as they tell us to go on and prevent the blackguard Germans running away.”

“But the Germans did not run away at Bull Run?

Faith, because they did not get a chance–sure they put them in the rear, away out of the fighting.”

“And why do you not go on now?”

“Well, that’s the question we are asking every day.”

“And can anyone answer it?”

“Not one of us can tell; but my belief is if we had one of the old 50th among us at the head of affairs we would soon be at them. I belonged to the old regiment once, but I got off and took up with shoemaking again, and faith if I sted in it I might have been sergeant-major by this time, only they hated the poor Roman Catholics.”

“And do you think, sergeant, you would get many of your countrymen who had served in the old army to fight the old familiar red jackets?” “Well, sir, I tell you I hope my arm would rot before I would pull a trigger against the old 50th; but we would wear the red jacket too–we have as good a right to it as the others, and then it would be man against man, you know; but if I saw any of them cursed Germans interfering I’d soon let daylight into them.” The hazy dreams of this poor man’s mind would form an excellent article for a New York newspaper, which on matters relating to England are rarely so lucid and logical. Next day was devoted to writing and heavy rain, through both of which, notwithstanding, I was assailed by many visitors and some scurrilous letters, and in the evening there was a Washington gathering of Englishry, Irishry, Scotchry, Yankees, and Canadians.

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