Letters from England 1846 1849
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Elizabeth Davis Bancroft (Mrs. George Bancroft) >> Letters from England 1846 1849
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7 This etext was prepared by Jane Duff and proofed by David Price,
email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk from the 1904 Smith, Elder and Co. edition.
LETTERS FROM ENGLAND 1846-1849
LETTER: TO W.D.B. AND A.B.
LIVERPOOL, October 26, 1846
My dear sons: Thank God with me that we are once more on TERRA
FIRMA. We arrived yesterday morning at ten o'clock, after a very
rough voyage and after riding all night in the Channel in a
tremendous gale, so bad that no pilot could reach us to bring us in
on Saturday evening. A record of a sea voyage will be only
interesting to you who love me, but I must give it to you that you
may know what to expect if you ever undertake it; but first, I must
sum it all up by saying that of all horrors, of all physical
miseries, tortures, and distresses, a sea voyage is the greatest . .
. The Liverpool paper this morning, after announcing our arrival
says: "The GREAT WESTERn, notwithstanding she encountered
throughout a series of most severe gales, accomplished the passage
in sixteen days and twelve hours."
To begin at the moment I left New York: I was so absorbed by the
pain of parting from you that I was in a state of complete apathy
with regard to all about me. I did not sentimentalize about "the
receding shores of my country;" I hardly looked at them, indeed.
Friday I was awoke in the middle of the night by the roaring of the
wind and sea and SUCH motion of the vessel.
The gale lasted all Saturday and Sunday, strong from the North, and
as we were in the region where the waters of the Bay of Fundy run
out and meet those of the Gulf of St. Lawrence, afterwards we had a
strong cross sea. May you never experience a "cross sea." . . . Oh
how I wished it had pleased God to plant some little islands as
resting-places in the great waste of waters, some resting station.
But no, we must keep on, on, with everything in motion that your eye
could rest on. Everything tumbling about . . . We lived through it,
however, and the sun of Sunday morn rose clear and bright. A pilot
got on board about seven and at ten we were in Liverpool.
We are at the Adelphi. Before I had taken off my bonnet Mr. Richard
Rathbone, one of the wealthiest merchants here, called to invite us
to dine the next day . . . Mrs. Richard Rathbone has written that
beautiful "Diary of Lady Willoughby," and, what is more, they say it
is a perfect reflect of her own lovely life and character. When she
published the book no one knew of it but her husband, not even her
brothers and sisters, and, of course, she constantly heard
speculations as to the authenticity of the book, and was often
appealed to for her opinion. She is very unpretending and sweet in
her manners; talks little, and seems not at all like a literary
lady.
I like these people in Liverpool. They seem to me to think less of
fashion and more of substantial excellence than our wealthy people.
I am not sure but the existence of a higher class above them has a
favorable effect, by limiting them in some ways. There is much less
show of furniture in the houses than with us, though their servants
and equipages are in much better keeping. I am not sorry to be
detained here for a few days by my illness to become acquainted with
them, and I think your father likes it also, and will find it useful
to him. Let me say, while I think of it, how much I was pleased
with the GREAT WESTERN. That upper saloon with the air passing
through it was a great comfort to me. The captain, the servants,
the table, are all excellent. Everything on board was as nice as in
the best hotel, and my gruels and broths beautifully made. One of
the stewardesses did more for me than I ever had done by any servant
of my own . . . Your father and Louisa were ill but three or four
days, and then your father read Tacitus and talked to the ladies,
while Louisa played with the other children.
The Adelphi, my first specimen of an English hotel, is perfectly
comfortable, and though an immense establishment, is quiet as a
private house. There is none of the bustle of the Astor, and if I
ring my bedroom bell it is answered by a woman who attends to me
assiduously. The landlord pays us a visit every day to know if we
have all we wish.
LONDON, Sunday, November 1
Here I am in the mighty heart, but before I say one word about it I
will go on from Wednesday evening with my journal. On Thursday,
though still very feeble, I dined at Green Bank, the country-seat of
Mr. William Rathbone. I was unwilling to leave Liverpool without
sharing with your father some of the hospitalities offered to us and
made a great effort to go. The place is very beautiful and the
house full of comfortable elegance.
The next morning we started for Birmingham, ninety-seven miles from
Liverpool, on our way to London, as I am unable to travel the whole
way in a day. On this railway I felt for the first time the
superiority of England to our own country. The cars are divided
into first, second, and third classes. We took a first-class car,
which has all the comforts of a private carriage.
Just as we entered Birmingham I observed the finest seat, surrounded
by a park wall and with a very picturesque old church, that I had
seen on the way. On enquiring of young Mr. Van Wart, who came to
see us in Birmingham (the nephew of Washington Irving), whose place
it was, he said it was now called Aston Hall and was owned by Mr.
Watt, but it was formerly owned by the Bracebridges, and was the
veritable "Bracebridge Hall," and that his uncle had passed his
Christmas there.
On arriving here we found our rooms all ready for us at Long's
Hotel, kept by Mr. Markwell, a wine merchant. The house is in New
Bond Street, in the very centre of movement at the West End, and Mr.
Markwell full of personal assiduity, which we never see with us. He
comes to the carriage himself, gives me his arm to go upstairs, is
so much obliged to us for honoring his house, ushers you in to
dinner, at least on the first day, and seats you, etc., etc.
Do not imagine us in fresh, new-looking rooms as we should be in New
York or Philadelphia. No, in London even new things look old, but
almost everything IS old. Our parlor has three windows down to the
floor, but it is very dark. The paint is maple color, and
everything is dingy in appearance. The window in my bedroom looks
like a horn lantern, so thick is the smoke, and yet everything is
scrupulously clean. On our arrival, Boyd, the Secretary of
Legation, soon came, and stayed to dine with us at six. Our dinner
was an excellent soup, the boiled cod garnished with fried smelts,
the roast beef and a FRICANDEAU with sweet breads, then a pheasant,
and afterwards, dessert.
This morning Mr. Bates came very early to see us, and then Mr.
Joseph Coolidge, who looks very young and handsome; then Mr. Colman,
who also looks very well, Mr. Boyd and a Mr. Haight, of New York,
and Mr. Gair, son of Mr. Gair of Liverpool, a pleasing young man.
Monday Evening
This morning came Mr. Aspinwall, then Captain Wormeley, then Dr.
Holland, then Mrs. Bates, then Mr. Joseph Jay and his sister, then
Tom Appleton, Mrs. and Miss Wormeley, and Mrs. Franklin Dexter. Dr.
Holland came a second time to take me a drive, but Mrs. Bates being
with me he took your father. Mrs. Bates took me to do some
shopping, and to see about some houses. They are very desirous we
should be in their neighborhood, in Portland Place, but I have a
fancy myself for the new part of town. I have been so used all my
life to see things fresh and clean-looking, that I cannot get
accustomed to the London dinge, and some of the finest houses look
to me as though I would like to give them a good scouring. Tell
Cousin M. never to come to England, she would be shocked every
minute, with all the grandeur. A new country is cleaner-looking,
though it may not be so picturesque.
I got your letters when I arrived here, and I wish this may give you
but a little pleasure they gave me. Pray never let a steamer come
without a token from both of you . . . With love to Grandma and
Uncle Thomas, believe me, with more love than ever before,
ELIZABETH D. BANCROFT
LETTER: To W.D.B. and A.B.
LONDON, November 3, 1846
. . . This day, at five, your father had his first interview with
Lord Palmerston, who will acquaint the Queen with his arrival, and
after she has received him we shall leave our cards upon all the
ministers and CORPS DIPLOMATIQUE.
November 4th
Your father had a most agreeable dinner at Lord Holland's. He met
there Lord and Lady Palmerston, Lord Morpeth, Lord de Mauley, Mr.
Harcourt, a son of the Archbishop of York, etc. He took out Lady
Holland and Lord Morpeth, Lady Palmerston, the only ladies present.
Holland House is surrounded by 200 acres in the midst of the western
part of London, or rather Kensington. Lord Holland has no children,
and the family dies with him. They dined in the room in which
Addison died.
To-day, to my surprise, came Lady Palmerston, which was a great
courtesy, as it was my place to make the first visit. She is the
sister of Lord Melbourne. Lord de Mauley has also been here. . . .
To-day I have been driving through some of the best streets in
London, and my ideas of its extent and magnificence are rising fast.
The houses are more picturesque than ours, and some of them most
noble. The vastness of a great capital like this cannot burst upon
one at once. Its effect increases daily. The extent of the Park,
surrounded by mansions which look, some of them, like a whole
history in themselves, has to-day quite dazzled my imagination.
November 5th
This morning, Thursday, came an invitation to dine with Lord and
Lady Palmerston on Saturday. Sir George Grey, another of the
ministers, came to see us to-day and Lord Mahon. Your father and I
have been all the morning looking at houses, and have nearly
concluded upon one in Eaton Square. We find a hotel very expensive,
and not very comfortable for us, as your father is very restive
without his books about him. Mr. Harcourt also came to see us to-
day. I mention as many of the names of our visitors as I can
recollect, as it will give you some idea of the composition of
English society . . . This moment a large card in an envelope has
been brought me, which runs thus: "The Lord Steward has received
Her Majesty's commands to invite Mr. Bancroft to dinner at Windsor
Castle on Thursday, 12th November, to remain until Friday, 13th." I
am glad he will dine there before me, that he may tell me the order
of performances.
Friday, November 6th
. . . We had to-day a delightful visit from Rogers, the Poet, who is
now quite old, but with a most interesting countenance. He was full
of cordiality, and, at parting, as he took my hand, said: "Our
acquaintance must become friendship." Mr. Harcourt came again and
sat an hour with us, and has introduced your father at the
Traveller's Club and the Athenaeum Club. To-night came my new
lady's maid, Russell. She dresses hair beautifully, but is rather
too great a person to suit my fancy.
Sunday Evening, November 8th
On Friday evening we met at Mrs. Wormeley's a cosy little knot of
Americans. The Dexters were staying there and there were Mr. and
Mrs. Atkinson and Miss Pratt, Mr. and Mrs. Aspinwall, Mr. and Miss
Jay, Mr. and Mrs. Putnam, Mr. Colman, Mr. Pickering, etc.
Wednesday Evening
On Monday we came to our HOME, preferring it to the hotel, though it
is not yet in order for our reception, and we have not yet all our
servants. Last evening we dined with Lord Morpeth at his father's
house. His family are all out of town, but he remains because of
his ministerial duties. Lord Morpeth took me out and I sat between
him and Sir George Grey. Your father took out Lady Theresa Lewis,
who is a sister of Lord Clarendon. She was full of intelligence and
I like her extremely. Baron and Lady Parke (a distinguished judge),
Lady Morgan, Mr. Mackintosh, Dr. and Mrs. Holland (Sidney Smith's
daughter), and Mr. and Mrs. Franklin Dexter, with several others
were the party.
During dinner one gentleman was so very agreeable that I wondered
who he could be, but as Lord Palmerston had told me that Mr.
Macaulay was in Edinburgh, I did not think of him. After the ladies
left the gentlemen, my first question to Mrs. Holland was the name
of her next neighbor. "Why, Mr. Macaulay," was her answer, and I
was pleased not to have been disappointed in a person of whom I had
heard so much. When the gentlemen came in I was introduced to him
and talked to him and heard him talk not a little.
These persons all came the next day to see us, which gave rise to
fresh invitations.
This morning we have been driving round to leave cards on the CORPS
DIPLOMATIQUE, and Mr. Harcourt has taken me all over the Athenaeum
Club-house, a superb establishment. They have given your father an
invitation to the Club, a privilege which is sometimes sought for
years, Mr. Harcourt says. . . . Have I not needed all my energies?
We have been here just a fortnight, and I came so ill that I could
hardly walk. We are now at housekeeping, and I am in the full
career in London society. They told me I should see no one until
spring, but you see we dine out or go out in the evening almost
every day. . . . For the gratification of S.D. or Aunt I., who may
wonder how I get along in dress matters, going out as I did in my
plain black dress, I will tell you that Mrs. Murray, the Queen's
dressmaker, made me, as soon as I found these calls and invitations
pouring in, two dresses. One of black velvet, very low, with short
sleeves, and another of very rich black watered silk, with drapery
of black tulle on the corsage and sleeves. . . . I have fitted
myself with several pretty little head-dresses, some in silver, some
with plumes, but all white, and I find my velvet and silk suit all
occasions. I do not like dining with bare arms and neck, but I
must.
Tuesday, November 17th
Last evening we passed at the Earl of Auckland's, the head of the
Admiralty. The party was at the Admiralty, where there is a
beautiful residence for the first lord. . . . I had a long talk
with Lord Morpeth last evening about Mr. Sumner, and told him of his
nomination. He has a strong regard for him. . . . Not a moment
have I had to a London "lion." I have driven past Westminster, but
have not been in it. I have seen nothing of London but what came in
my way in returning visits.
LETTER: To I.P.D.
LONDON, November 17, 1846
My dear Uncle: I cannot help refreshing the remembrance of me with
you and dear Aunty by addressing a separate letter to you. . . .
Yesterday we hailed with delight our letters from home. . . . One
feels in a foreign land the absence of common sympathies and
interests, which always surround us in any part of our own country.
And yet nothing can exceed the kindness with which we have been
received here.
Last evening I went to my first great English dinner and it was a
most agreeable one. . . . It seems a little odd to a republican
woman to find herself in right of her country taking precedence of
marchionesses, but one soon gets used to all things. We sat down to
dinner at eight and got through about ten. When the ladies rose, I
found I was expected to go first. After dinner other guests were
invited and to the first person who came in, about half-past ten,
Lady Palmerston said: "Oh, thank you for coming so early." This
was Lady Tankerville of the old French family of de Grammont and
niece to Prince Polignac. The next was Lady Emily de Burgh, the
daughter of the Marchioness of Clanricarde, a beautiful girl of
seventeen. She is very lovely, wears a Grecian braid round her head
like a coronet, and always sits by her mother, which would not suit
our young girls. Then came Lord and Lady Ashley, Lord Ebrington,
and so many titled personages that I cannot remember half.
The dinner is much the same as ours in all its modes of serving, but
they have soles and turbot, instead of our fishes, and their
pheasants are not our pheasants, or their partridges our partridges.
Neither have we so many footmen with liveries of all colours, or so
much gold and silver plate. . . . The next morning Mr. Bancroft
breakfasted with Dr. Holland to meet the Marquis of Lansdowne alone.
[Thursday] he went down to Windsor to dine with the Queen. He took
out to dinner the Queen's mother, the Duchess of Kent, the Queen
going with the Prince of Saxe-Weimar, who was paying a visit at the
Castle. He talked German to the Duchess during dinner, which I
suspect she liked, for the Queen spoke of it to him afterwards, and
Lord Palmerston told me the Duchess said he spoke very pure German.
While he was dining at Windsor I went to a party all alone at the
Countess Grey's, which I thought required some courage.
Of all the persons I see here the Marquis of Lansdowne excites the
most lively regard. His countenance and manners are full of
benevolence and I think he understands America better than anyone
else of the high aristocracy. I told him I was born at Plymouth and
was as proud of my pure Anglo-Saxon Pilgrim descent as if it were
traced from a line of Norman Conquerors. Nearly all the ministers
and their wives came to see us immediately, without waiting for us
to make the first visit, which is the rule, and almost every person
whom we have met in society, which certainly indicates an amiable
feeling toward our country. We could not well have received more
courtesy than we have done, and it has been extended freely and
immediately, without waiting for the forms of etiquette. Pray say
to Mr. Everett how often we hear persons speak of him, and with
highest regard. I feel as if we were reaping some of the fruits of
his sowing.
Mr. Bancroft sends you a pack of cards, one of the identical two
packs with which the Queen played Patience the evening he was at
Windsor. They were the perquisite of a page who brought them to
him. He was much pleased with the Queen and thought her much
prettier than any representation of her which we have seen, and with
a very sweet expression. Lady Holland had been staying two or three
days at Windsor, and was to leave the next morning. When the Queen
took leave of her at night, she kissed her quite in my Virginia
fashion.
Dear Uncle: How much more your niece would have written if to-day
were not packet day, I cannot say. I shall send you some newspapers
and a pack of cards which I saw in the Queen's hands. The American
Minister and Mrs. Bancroft have since played a game of piquet with
them. The Queen's hands were as clean as her smile was gracious.
Best regards to the Judge and Aunt Isaac.
Yours most truly, George Bancroft.
LETTER: To W.D.B. and A.B.
LONDON, November 29, 1846
After a long interval I find again a quiet Sunday evening to resume
my journal to you. On Monday we dined at Lord John Russell's, and
met many of the persons we have met before and the Duchess of
Inverness, the widow of the Duke of Sussex. On Tuesday we dined at
Dr. Holland's. His wife and daughter are charming, and then we met,
besides, Lady Charlotte Lindsay, the only surviving child of Lord
North, Mr. and Mrs. Milman (the author of the "Fall of Jerusalem"),
and Mr. Macaulay. Yesterday I went to return the visit of the
Milmans and found that the entrance to their house, he being a
prebend of Westminster Abbey, was actually in the cloisters of the
Abbey. They were not at home, but I took my footman and wandered at
leisure through the cloisters, treading at every step on the tomb of
some old abbot with dates of 1160 and thereabouts.
Nothing could be more delightful than London is now, if I had only a
little more physical vigor to enjoy it. We see everybody more
frequently, and know them better than in the full season, and we
have some of the best specimens of English society, too, here just
now, as the Whig ministry brings a good deal of the ability of the
aristocracy to its aid. The subjects of conversation among women
are more general than with us, and [they] are much more cultivated
than our women as a body, not our blues. They never sew, or attend,
as we do, to domestic affairs, and so live for social life and
understand it better.
LONDON, December 2, 1846
My dear Mrs. Polk: you told me when I parted from you at Washington
that you would like to get from me occasionally some accounts of my
experiences in English society. I thought at that time that we
should see very little of it until the spring, but contrary to my
expectation we have been out almost every day since our arrival. We
made our DEBUT in London on the first day of November (the suicidal
month you know) in the midst of an orange-colored fog, in which you
could not see your hand before you. The prospect for the winter
seemed, I must say, rather "triste," but the next day the fog
cleared off, people came constantly to see us, and we had agreeable
invitations for every day, and London put on a new aspect. Out
first dinner was at Lord Palmerston's, where we met what the
newspapers call a distinguished circle. The Marquis of Lansdowne,
Lord and Lady John Russell, Marquis and Marchioness of Clanricarde
(Canning's daughter), Earl and Countess Grey, Sir George and Lady
Grey, etc., etc. I was taken out by Lord Palmerston, with Lord Grey
on the other side, and found the whole thing very like one of our
Washington dinners, and I was quite as much at my ease, and they
seemed made of the same materials as our cabinet at home. I have
since dined at Lord Morpeth's, Lord John Russell's, Lord Mahon's,
Dr. Holland's, Baron Parke's, The Prussian Minister's, and to-day we
dine with the Duchess of Inverness, the widow of the Duke of Sussex;
to-morrow with Mr. Milman, a prebend of Westminster and a
distinguished man of letters. We have been at a great many SOIREES,
at Lady Palmerston's, Lady Grey's, Lord Auckland's, Lady Lewis's,
etc., etc.
And now, having given you some idea WHOM we are seeing here, you
will wish to know how I like them, and how they differ from our own
people. At the smaller dinners and SOIREES at this season I cannot,
of course, receive a full impression of English society, but
certainly those persons now in town are charming people. Their
manners are perfectly simple and I entirely forget, except when
their historic names fall upon my ear, that I am with the proud
aristocracy of England. All the persons whose names I have
mentioned to you give one a decided impression not only of ability
and agreeable manners, but of excellence and the domestic virtues.
The furniture and houses, too, are less splendid and ostentatious,
than those of our large cities, though [they] have more plate, and
liveried servants. The forms of society and the standard of dress,
too, are very like ours, except that a duchess or a countess has
more hereditary point lace and diamonds. The general style of
dress, perhaps, is not so tasteful, so simply elegant as ours. Upon
the whole I think more highly of our own country (I mean from a
social point of view alone) than before I came abroad. There is
less superiority over us in manners and all the social arts than I
could have believed possible in a country where a large and wealthy
class have been set apart from time immemorial to create, as it
were, a social standard of high refinement. The chief difference
that I perceive is this: In our country the position of everybody
is undefined and rests altogether upon public opinion. This leads
sometimes to a little assumption and pretension of manner, which the
highest class here, whose claims are always allowed by all about
them, are never tempted to put on. From this results an extreme
simplicity of manner, like that of a family circle among us.
What I have said, however, applies less to the South than to the
large cities of the North, with which I am most familiar at home. I
hope our memory will not be completely effaced in Washington, for we
cling to our friends there with strong interest. Present my
respectful regards to the President, and my love to Mrs. Walker and
Miss Rucker. To the Masons also, and our old colleagues all, and
pray lay your royal commands upon somebody to write me. I long to
know what is going on in Washington. The Pleasantons promised to do
so, and Annie Payne, to whom and to Mrs. Madison give also my best
love. Believe me yours with the highest regard.
E.D. BANCROFT.
LETTER: 2 December
Yesterday we dined at the Prussian Minister's, Chevalier Bunsen's.
He met your father in Rome twenty years since, and has received us
with great enthusiasm. Yesterday at dinner he actually rose in his
seat and made quite a speech welcoming him to England as historian,
old friend, etc., and ended by offering his health, which your
father replied to shortly, in a few words. Imagine such an outbreak
upon routine at a dinner in England! Nobody could have done it but
one of German blood, but I dare say the Everetts, who know him,
could imagine it all.
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