Duck-shooting at Baltimore.—William Howard Russell’s Diary.

October 29th.–At ten started for the shooting ground; Carroll’s Island; my companion, Mr. Pennington, drove me in a light trap, and Mr. Taylor and Lamy came with Mr. Tucker Carroll (since killed in action fighting for the South at Antietam.), along with guns, &c. Passed out towards the sea, a long height commanding a fine view of the river; near this was fought the battle with the English, at which the “Baltimore defenders” admit they ran away. Mr. Pennington’s father says he can answer for the speed of himself and his companions, but still the battle was thought to be glorious. Along the posting road to Philadelphia, passed the Blue Ball Tavern; on all sides except the left, great wooded lagoons visible, swarming with ducks; boats are forbidden to fire upon the birds, which are allured by wooden decoys. Crossed the Philadelphia Railway three times; land poor, covered with undergrowths and small trees, given up to Dutch and Irish and free niggers. Reached the duck-club-house in two hours and a half; substantial farm-house, with out offices, on a strip of land surrounded by water; Gunpowder River, Saltpetre River, facing Chesapeake; on either side lakes and tidal water; the owner, Slater, an Irishman, reputed very rich, self-made. Dinner at one o’clock; any number of canvas-back ducks, plentiful joints; drink whisky; company, Swan, Howard, Duval, Morris, and others, also extraordinary specimen named Smith, believed never to wash except in rain or by accidental sousing in the river. Went out for afternoon shooting; birds wide and high; killed seventeen; back to supper at dusk. McDonald and a guitar came over; had a negro dance; and so to bed about twelve. Lamy got single bed; I turned in with Taylor, as single beds are not permitted when the house is full.