. . . I went on Wednesday to dine at Lord Monteagle's to meet Father Mathew, and the Archbishop of Dublin (Dr. Whately) also dined there.

Father Mathew spoke with great interest of America and of American liberality, and is very anxious to go to our country. He saw Mr.

Forbes at Cork and spoke of him with great regard. . . . On [Sat.u.r.day] Mr. Bancroft went to the palace to see the King of the Belgians, with the rest of the Diplomatic Corps. After his return we went to Westminster Hall to see the prize pictures, as Lord Lansdowne had sent us tickets for the private view. The Commission of Fine Arts have offered prizes for the best historical pictures that may serve to adorn the new Houses of Parliament, and the pictures of this collection were all painted with that view. One of those which have received a prize is John Robinson bestowing his farewell blessing upon the Pilgrims at Leyden, which is very pleasing. It was to me like a friend in a strange country, and I lingered over it the longest.

July 2d

Wednesday [evening] we went to Lady Duff Gordon's, who is the daughter of Mrs. Austin, where was a most agreeable party, and among others, Andersen, the Danish poet-author of the "Improvisatore." He has a most striking poetical physiognomy, but as he talked only German or bad French, I left him to Mr. Bancroft in the conversation way.

The next morning before nine o'clock we were told that Mr. Rogers, the poet, was downstairs. I could not imagine what had brought him out so early, but found that Moore, the poet, had come to town and would stay but a day, and we must go that very morning and breakfast with him at ten o'clock. We went and found a delightful circle. I sat between Moore and Rogers, who was in his very best humor. Moore is but a wreck, but most a interesting one.

LETTER: To Mr. and Mrs. I.P.D.

Nuneham Park, July 27, 1847

My dear Uncle and Aunt: . . . I must go back to the day when my last letters were despatched, as my life since has been full of interest. On Monday evening, the 19th, we went to the French play, to see Rachel in "Phedre." She far surpa.s.sed my imagination in the expression of all the powerful pa.s.sions. . . . On Tuesday Mr.

Bancroft went down to hear Lord John make a speech to his const.i.tuents in the city, while I went to see Miss Burdett-Coutts lay the corner-stone of the church which "the Bishop of London has permitted her to build," to use her own expression in her note to me. In the evening we dined there with many of the clergy, and Lord Brougham, Lord Dundonald, etc. I went down with the Dean of Westminster, who was very agreeable and instructive. He and Dr.

Whately have the simplicity of children, with an immense deal of knowledge, which they impart in the most pleasant way. Sat.u.r.day, the 24th, we were to leave town for our first country excursion. We were invited by Dr. Hawtrey, the Head Master of Eton, to be present at the ceremonies accompanying the annual election of such boys on the Foundation as are selected to go up to King's College, Cambridge, where they are also placed on a Foundation. From reading Dr. Arnold's life you will have learned that the head master of one of these very great schools is no unimportant personage. Dr.

Hawtrey has an income of six or seven thousand pounds. He is unmarried, but has two single sisters who live with him, and his establishment in one of the old college houses is full of elegance and comfort. We took an open travelling carriage with imperials, and drove down to Eton with our own horses, arriving about one o'clock. At two, precisely, the Provost of King's College, Cambridge, was to arrive, and to be received under the old gateway of the cloister by the Captain of the school with a Latin speech.

After dinner there is a regatta among the boys, which is one of the characteristic and pleasing old customs. All the fashionables of London who have sons at Eton come down to witness their happiness, and the river bank is full of gayety. The evening finished with the most beautiful fireworks I ever saw, which lighted up the Castle behind and were reflected in the Thames below, while the glancing oars of the young boatmen, and the music of their band with a merry chime of bells from St. George's Chapel, above, all combined to give gayety and interest to the scene. The next morning (Sunday), after an agreeable breakfast in the long, low-walled breakfast-room, which opens upon the flower garden, we went to Windsor to worship in St.

George's Chapel. The Queen's stall is rather larger than the others, and one is left vacant for the Prince of Wales.

LONDON, July 29th

And now with a new sheet I must begin my account of Nuneham. . . .

The Archbishop of York is the second son of Lord Vernon, but his uncle, Earl Harcourt, dying without children, left him all his estate, upon which he took the name of Harcourt. We arrived about four o'clock. . . . The dinner was at half-past seven, and when I went down I found the d.u.c.h.ess of Sutherland, Lady Caroline Leveson- Gower, Lord Kildare, and several of the sons and daughters of the Archbishop. The dinner and evening pa.s.sed off very agreeably. The d.u.c.h.ess is a most high-bred person, and thoroughly courteous. As we were going in or out of a room instead of preceding me, which was her right, she always made me take her arm, which was a delicate way of getting over her precedence. . . . At half-past nine the [next morning] we met in the drawing-room, when the Archbishop led the way down to prayers. This was a beautiful scene, for he is now ninety, and to hear him read the prayers with a firm, clear voice, while his family and dependents knelt about him was a pleasure never to be forgotten. . . . At five I was to drive round the park with the Archbishop himself in his open carriage. This drive was most charming. He explained everything, told me when such trees would be felled, and when certain tracts of underwood would be fit for cutting, how old the different-sized deer were--in short, the whole economy of an English park. Every pretty point of view, too, he made me see, and was as active and wide-awake as if he were thirty, rather than ninety. . . . The next morning, after prayers and breakfast, I took my leave.

LETTER: To A.H.

BISHOP'S PALACE, NORWICH, August 1st

My dear Ann: How I wish I could transport you to the spot where I am writing, but if I could summon it before your actual vision you would take it for a dream or a romance, so different is everything within the walls which enclose the precincts of an English Cathedral from anything we can conceive on our side of the water. . . . Some of the learned people and n.o.blemen have formed an Archaeological Society for the study and preservation [of] the interesting architectural antiquities of the kingdom, and [it] is upon the occasion of the annual meeting of this society for a week at Norwich that the Bishop has invited us to stay a few days at the palace and join them in their agreeable antiquarian excursions. We arrived on Friday at five o'clock after a long dull journey of five hours on the railway. . . . Staying in the house are our friends, Mr. and Mrs. Milman, Lord Northampton and his son, Lord Alwyne Compton, and the Bishop's family, consisting of Mrs. Stanley, and of two Miss Stanleys, agreeable and highly cultivated girls, and Mr. Arthur Stanley, the writer of Dr. Arnold's Biography.

After dinner company soon arrived. Among them were Mrs. Opie, who resides here. She is a pleasing, lively old lady, in full Quaker dress. The most curious feature of the evening was a visit which the company paid to the cellar and kitchen, which were lighted up for the occasion. They were build by the old Norman bishops of the twelfth century, and had vaulted stone roofs as beautifully carved and ribbed as a church.

The next day, Sat.u.r.day, the antiquarians made a long excursion to hunt up some ruins, while the Milmans, Mr. Stanley, and ourselves, went to visit the place of Lady Suffield, about twelve miles distant, and which is the most perfect specimen of the Elizabethan style. Lady Suffield herself is as Elizabethan as her establishment; she is of one [of] the oldest high Tory families and so opposed to innovations of all sorts that though her letters, which used to arrive at two, before the opening of the railway two years ago, now arrive at seven in the morning, they are never allowed to be brought till the old hour. . . . This morning Mr.

Bancroft and the rest are gone on an excursion to Yarmouth to see some ruins, while I remain here to witness the chairing of two new members of Parliament, who have just been elected, of whom Lord Douro, son of the Duke of Wellington, is one.

LETTER: To I.P.D.

AUDLEY END, October 14, 1847

Dear Uncle: We are staying for a few days at Lord Braybrooke's place, one of the most magnificent in England; but before I say a word about it I must tell you of A.'s safe arrival and how happy I have been made by having him with me again. . . . On Sat.u.r.day the 9th we had the honor of dining with the LORD MAYOR to meet the Duke of Cambridge, a FETE so unlike anything else and accompanied by so many old and peculiar customs that I must describe it to you at full length. The Mansion House is in the heart of the CITY, and is very magnificent and s.p.a.cious, the Egyptian Hall, as the dining-room is called, being one of the n.o.blest apartments I have seen. The guests were about 250 in number and were received by the Lady Mayoress SITTING. When dinner was announced, the Lord Mayor went out first, preceded by the sword-bearer and mace-bearer and all the insignia of office. Then came the Duke of Cambridge and the Lady Mayoress, then Mr. Bancroft and I together, which is the custom at these great civic feasts. We marched through the long gallery by the music of the band to the Egyptian Hall, where two raised seats like thrones were provided for the Lord Mayor and Mayoress at the head of the hall. On the right hand of the Lord Mayor sat the Duke of Cambridge in a COMMON CHAIR, for royalty yields entirely to the Mayor, on his own ground. On the right of the Duke of Cambridge sat the Mayoress- elect (for the present dignitaries go out of office on the 1st of November). On the left hand of the present Lady Mayoress sat the Lord Mayor-ELECT, then I came with my husband on my left hand in very conjugal style.

There were three tables the whole length of the hall, and that at which we were placed went across at the head. When we are placed, the herald stands behind the Lord Mayor and cries: "My Lords, Ladies, and Gentlemen, pray silence, for grace." Then the chaplain in his gown, goes behind the Lord Mayor and says grace. After the second course two large gold cups, nearly two feet high, are placed before the Mayor and Mayoress. The herald then cries with a loud voice: "His Royal Highness the Duke of Cambridge, the American Minister, the Lord Chief Baron," etc., etc. (enumerating about a dozen of the most distinguished guests), "and ladies and gentlemen all, the Lord Mayor and Lady Mayoress do bid you most heartily welcome and invite you to drink in a loving cup." Whereupon the Mayor and Mayoress rise and each turn to their next neighbor, who take off the cover while they drink. After my right-hand neighbor, the Lord Mayor-elect, had put on the cover, he turns to me and says, "Please take off the cover," which I do and hold it while he drinks; then I replace the cover and turn round to Mr. Bancroft, who rises and performs the same office for me while I drink; then he turns to his next neighbor, who takes off the cover for him. I have not felt so solemn since I stood up to be married as when Mr. Bancroft and I were standing up alone together, the rest of the company looking on, I with this great heavy gold cup in my hand, so heavy that I could scarcely lift it to my mouth with both hands, and he with the cover before me, with rather a mischievous expression in his face. Then came two immense gold platters filled with rose water, which were also pa.s.sed round. These gold vessels were only used by the persons at the head table; the other guests were served with silver cups.

When the dessert and the wine are placed on the table, the herald says, "My Lords, Ladies, and Gentlemen, please to charge your gla.s.ses." After we duly charge our gla.s.ses the herald cries: "Lords, Ladies, and Gentlemen, pray silence for the Lord Mayor." He then rises and proposes the first toast, which is, of course, always "The Queen." After a time came the "American Minister," who was obliged to rise up at my elbow and respond. We got home just after twelve.

And now let me try to give you some faint idea of Audley End, which is by far the most magnificent house I have seen yet. It was built by the Earl of Suffolk, son of the Duke of Norfolk who was beheaded in Elizabeth's reign for high treason, upon the site of an abbey, the lands of which had been granted by the crown to that powerful family. One of the Earls of Suffolk dying without sons, the EARLDOM pa.s.sed into another branch and the BARONY and ESTATE of Howard de Walden came into the female line. In course of time, a Lord Howard de Walden dying without a son, his t.i.tle also pa.s.sed into another family, but his estate went to his nephew, Lord Braybrooke, the father of the present Lord. Lady Braybrooke is the daughter of the Marquis of Cornwallis, and granddaughter of our American Lord Cornwallis.

The house is of the Elizabethan period and is one of the best preserved specimens of that style, but of its vast extent and magnificence I can give you no idea. We arrived about five o'clock, and were ushered through an immense hall of carved oak hung with banners up a fine staircase to the grand saloon, where we were received by the host and hostess. Now of this grand saloon I must try to give you a conception. It was, I should think, from seventy- five to one hundred feet in length. The ceiling overhead was very rich with hanging corbels, like stalact.i.tes, and the entire walls were panelled, with a full-length family portrait in each panel, which was arched at the top, so that the whole wall was composed of these round-topped pictures with rich gilding between.

Notwithstanding its vast size, the sofas and tables were so disposed all over the apartment as to give it the most friendly, warm, and social aspect.

Lady Braybrooke herself ushered me to my apartments, which were the state rooms. First came Mr. Bancroft's dressing-room, where was a blazing fire. Then came the bedroom, with the state bed of blue and gold, covered with embroidery, and with the arms and coronet of Howard de Walden. The walls were hung with crimson and white damask, and the sofas and chairs also, and it was surrounded by pictures, among others a full length of Queen Charlotte, just opposite the foot of the bed, always saluted me every morning when I awoke, with her fan, her hoop, and her deep ruffles.

My dressing-room, which was on the opposite side from Mr.

Bancroft's, was a perfect gem. It was painted by the famous Rebecco who came over from Italy to ornament so many of the great English houses at one time. The whole ceiling and walls were covered with beautiful designs and with gilding, and a beautiful recess for a couch was supported by fluted gilded columns; the architraves and mouldings of the doors were gilt, and the panels of the doors were filled with Rebecco's beautiful designs. The chairs were of light blue embroidered with thick, heavy gold, and all this bearing the stamp of antiquity was a thousand times more interesting than mere modern splendor. In the centre of the room was a toilet of white muslin (universal here), and on it a gilt dressing-gla.s.s, which gave pretty effect to the whole.

I sat at dinner between Lord Braybrooke and Sir John Boileau, and found them both very agreeable. The dining-room is as magnificent as the other apartments. The ceiling is in the Elizabethan style, covered with figures, and the walls white and gold panelling hung with full-length family portraits not set into the wall like the saloon, but in frames. In the evening the young people had a round game at cards and the elder ones seemed to prefer talking to a game at whist. The ladies brought down their embroidery or netting. At eleven a tray with wine and water is brought in and a quant.i.ty of bed candlesticks, and everybody retires when they like. The next morning the guests a.s.sembled at half-past nine in the great gallery which leads to the chapel to go in together to prayers. The chapel is really a beautiful little piece of architecture, with a vaulted roof and windows of painted gla.s.s. On one side is the original cast of the large monument to Lord Cornwallis (our lord) which is in Westminster Abbey. After breakfast we pa.s.sed a couple of hours in going all over the house, which is in perfect keeping in every part.

We returned to the library, a room as splendid as the saloon, only instead of pictured panels it was surrounded by books in beautiful gilt bindings. In the immense bay window was a large Louis Quatorze table, round which the ladies all placed themselves at their embroidery, though I preferred looking over curious illuminated missals, etc., etc.

The next day was the meeting of the County Agricultural Society. . .

. At the hour appointed we all repaired to the ground where the prizes were to be given out. . . . Lord Braybrooke made first a most paternal and interesting address, which showed me in the most favorable view the relation between the n.o.ble and the lower cla.s.s in England, a relation which must depend much on the personal character of the lord of the manor. . . . First came prizes to ploughmen, then the plough boys, then the shepherds, then to such peasants as had reared many children without aid, then to women who had been many years in the same farmer's service, etc., etc. A clock was awarded to a poor man and his wife who had reared six children and buried seven without aid from the parish. The rapture with which Mr. and Mrs. Flitton and the whole six children gazed on this clock, an immense treasure for a peasant's cottage, was both comic and affecting. . . . The next morning we made our adieus to our kind host and hostess, and set off for London, accompanied by Sir John Tyrrell, Major Beresford, and young Mr. Boileau.

LETTER: To W.D.B.

LONDON, November 4, 1847

Dear W.: . . . Mr. Bancroft and I dined on Friday, the 22d, with Mr. and Mrs. Hawes, under-Secretary of State, to meet Mr. Brooke, the Rajah of Sarawak, who is a great lion in London just now. He is an English gentleman of large fortune who has done much to Christianize Borneo, and to open its trade to the English. I sat between him and Mr. Ward, formerly Minister to Mexico before Mr.

Pakenham. He wrote a very nice book on Mexico, and is an agreeable and intelligent person. . . . On Wednesday A. and I went together to the National Gallery, and just as we were setting out Mr. Butler of New York came in and I invited him to join us. . . . While we were seated before a charming Claude who should come in but Mr. R.W.

Emerson and we had quite a joyful greeting. Just then came in Mr.

Rogers with two ladies, one on each arm. He renewed his request that I would bring my son to breakfast with him, and appointed Friday morning, and then added if those gentlemen who are with you are your friends and countrymen, perhaps they will accompany you.

They very gladly acceded, and I was thankful Mr. Emerson had chanced to be with me at that moment as it procured him a high pleasure.

Yesterday your father and I dined with Sir George Grey. . . . About four o'clock came on such a fog as I have not seen in London, and the newspapers of this morning speak of it as greater than has been known for many years. Sir George Grey lives in Eaton Place, which is parallel and just behind Eaton Square. In going that little distance, though there is a brilliant gas light at every door, the coachman was completely bewildered, and lost himself entirely. We could only walk the horses, the footman exploring ahead. When the guests by degrees arrived, there was the same rejoicing as if we had met on Mont St. Bernard after a contest with an Alpine snow-storm. .

. . Lady Grey told me she was dining with the Queen once in one of these tremendous fogs, and that many of the guests did not arrive till dinner was half through, which was horrible at a royal dinner; but the elements care little for royalty.

November 14th

On Sat.u.r.day we dined at the Duc de Broglie's. He married the daughter of Madam de Stael, but she is not now living. I was very agreeably placed with Mr. Macaulay on one side of me, so that I found it more pleasant than diplomatic dinners usually. At the English tables we meet people who know each other well, and have a common culture and tastes and habits of familiarity, and a fund of pleasant stories, but of course, at foreign tables, they neither know each other or the English so well as to give the same easy flow to conversation. I am afraid we are the greatest diners-out in London, but we are brought into contact a great deal with the literary and Parliamentary people, which our colleagues know little about, as also with the clergy and the judges. I should not be willing to make it the habit of my life, but it is time not misspent during the years of our abode here. . . . The good old Archbishop of York is dead, and I am glad I paid my visit to him when I did. Mr.

Rogers has paid me a long visit to-day and gave me all the particulars of his death. It was a subject I should not have introduced, for of that knot of intimate friends, Mr. Grenville, the Archbishop, and himself, he is now all that remains.