I Have Seen Nothing In England Which
Compares In Splendor With The State Which Is Kept Up Here.
We passed Wednesday and Thursday here most agreeably, and we rode or
walked during the whole days.
Lord Breadalbane, by the way, has
just been appointed Lord High Chamberlain to the Queen in place of
Lord Spencer. I am glad of this because we are brought often in
contact with the Lord Chamberlain, but it is very strange to me that
a man who lives like a king, and through whose dominions we
travelled a hundred miles from the German Ocean to the Atlantic, can
be Chamberlain to any Queen. These feudal subordinations we
republicans cannot understand. . . . We stopped at the little town
of Oban. After reading our letters and getting a dinner, we went
out just before sunset for a walk.
We wished much to see the ruins of Dunolly. We passed the porter's
lodge and found ourselves directly in the most picturesque grounds
on the very shore of the ocean and with the Western Islands lying
before us. Mr. Bancroft sent in his card, which brought out
instantly the key to the old castle, and in a few moments Capt.
MacDougal and Mr. Phipps, a brother of Lord Normanby's, joined us.
They pointed out the interesting points in the landscape, the Castle
of Ardtornish, the scene of Lord of the Isles, etc., in addition to
the fine old ruin we came to see. We lingered till the lighthouses
had begun to glow, and I was reminded very much of the scenery at
Wood's Hole, which I used to enjoy so much, only that could not
boast the association with poetry and feudal romance. We then went
into the house, and found a charming domestic circle in full evening
dress with short sleeves, so that my gray travelling cloak and straw
bonnet were rather out of place. Here were Mrs. Phipps, and Miss
Campbell, her sister, daughters of Sir Colin Campbell, and to my
great delight, Captain MacDougal brought out the great brooch of
Lorn, which his ancestor won from Bruce and the story of which you
will find in the Lord of the Isles. It fastened the Scotch Plaid,
and is larger than a teacup. He described to me the reverential way
in which Scott took it in both hands when he showed it to him. The
whole evening was pleasant and the more so from being unexpected. .
. . One little thing which adds always to the charm of Scotch
scenery is the dress of the peasantry. One never sees the real
Highland costume, but every shepherd has his plaid slung over one
shoulder, making the most graceful drapery. This, with the
universal Glengarry bonnet, is very pretty.
At Glasgow we intended to pay a visit of a day to the historian
Alison, but found letters announcing Governor Davis's arrival in
London with Mr. Corcoran and immediately turned our faces homeward.
We were to have passed a week on our return amidst the lakes, and I
protested against going back to London without one look at least.
So we stopped at Kendal on Saturday, took a little carriage over to
Windermere and Ambleside and passed the whole evening with the poet
and Mrs. Wordsworth, at their own exquisite home on Rydal Mount. At
ten o'clock we went from there to Miss Martineau, who has built the
prettiest of houses in this valley near to Mrs. Arnold at Fox Howe.
As we had only one day we made an arrangement with Miss Martineau to
go with us and be our guide, and set out the next day at six o'clock
and went over to Keswick to breakfast. From thence we went to
Borrowdale, by the side of Derwentwater, and afterward to Ulswater
and home by the fine pass of Kirkstone. On my return, I found the
Duke and Duchess of Argyle had been to see us.
The time of closing the despatch bag has come and I must hurry over
my delight at the scenery of the lakes. I could have spent a month
there, much to my mind. We arrived home on Monday and early next
morning came Mr. Davis and Mr. Corcoran. They went to see the
Parliament prorogued in person by the Queen.
LETTER: To Mr. and Mrs. I.P.D.
LONDON, December 14, 1848
Dear Uncle and Aunt: On Friday we dined at Mr. Tufnell's, who
married last spring the daughter of Lord Rosebery, Lady Anne
Primrose, a very "nice person," to use the favorite English term of
praise. . . . Sir John Hobhouse was of our party and he told us so
much of Byron, who was his intimate friend, as you will remember
from his Life, that we stayed much longer than usual at dinner. . .
. On Tuesday we were invited to dine with Miss Coutts, but were
engaged to Mr. Gurney, an immensely rich Quaker banker, brother of
Mrs. Fry. His daughter is married to Ernest Bunsen, the second son
of our friend. We were delighted with the whole family scene, which
was quite unlike anything we have seen in England. They live at
Upton Park, a pretty country seat about eight miles from us, and are
surrounded by their children and grandchildren. Their costume and
language are strictly Quaker, which was most becoming to Mrs.
Gurney's sweet, placid face. . . . Louis Napoleon's election seems
fixed, and is to me one of the most astounding things of the age.
When we passed several days with him at Mr. Bates's, I would not
have given two straws for his chance of a future career. To-night
Mendelssohn's "Elijah" is to be performed, and Jenny Lind sings. We
had not been able to get tickets, which have been sold for five
guineas apiece the last few days. To my great joy Miss Coutts has
this moment written me that she has two for our use, and asks us to
take an early dinner at five with her and accompany her.
LETTER:
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