August 7th.—In the evening I went to Mr. Seward^s, who gave a reception in honour of Prince Napoleon. The Minister’s rooms were crowded and intensely hot. Lord Lyons and most of the diplomatic circle were present. The Prince wore his Order of the Bath, and bore the onslaughts of politicians, male and female, with much good humour. The contrast between the uniforms of the officers of the United States army and navy and those of the French in the Prince’s suit, by no means redounded to the credit of the military tailoring of the Americans. The Prince, to whom I was presented by Mr. Seward, asked me particularly about the roads from Alexandria to Fairfax Courthouse, and from there to Centreville and Manassas. I told him I had not got quite as far as the latter place, at which he laughed. He inquired with much interest about General Beauregard, whether he spoke good French, if he seemed a man of capacity, or was the creation of an accident and of circumstances. He has been to Mount Vernon, and is struck with the air of neglect around the place. Two of his horses dropped dead from the heat on the journey, and the Prince, who was perspiring profusely in the crowded room, asked me whether the climate was not as bad as midsummer in India. His manner was perfectly easy, but he gave no encouragement to bores, nor did he court popularity by unusual affability, and he moved off long before the guests were tired of looking at him. On returning to my rooms a German gentleman named Bing—who went out with the Federal army from Washington, was taken prisoner at Bull’s Run, and carried to Richmond—came to visit me, but his account of what he saw in the dark and mysterious South was not lucid or interesting.
