Letters from England 1846 1849

E >> Elizabeth Davis Bancroft (Mrs. George Bancroft) >> Letters from England 1846 1849

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On Monday morning we left Newby for York on our way home. It so
happened that the judges were to open the court that very morning,
on which occasion they always breakfast with the Lord Mayor in their
scarlet robes and wigs, the Lord Mayor and aldermen are also in
their furred scarlet robes and the Lady Mayoress presents the judges
with enormous bouquets of the richest flowers. We were invited to
this breakfast, and I found it very entertaining. I was next the
High Sheriff, who was very desirous that we should stay a few hours
and go to the castle and see the court opened and listen to a case
or two. The High Sheriff of a county is a great character and has a
carriage and liveries as grand as the Queen's. After breakfast we
bade adieu to our York friends, and set off with our big bouquets
(for the distribution was extended to us) for home.

LETTER: To T.D.
LONDON, August 9, 1848

My dear Brother: . . . On Saturday we set off for Nuneham, the
magnificent seat of the late Archbishop of York, now in possession
of his eldest son, Mr. Granville Harcourt. . . . The guests besides
ourselves were Sir Robert and Lady Peel, Lord and Lady Villiers,
Lord and Lady Norreys, Lord Harry Vane, etc. We considered it a
great privilege to be staying in the same house with Sir Robert
Peel, and I had also the pleasure of sitting by him at dinner all
the three days we were there. He was full of conversation of the
best kind. Mr. Denison and Lady Charlotte, his wife, were also of
our party. She was the daughter of the Duke of Portland and sister
of Lord George Bentinck, Sir Robert's great antagonist in the House.

On Sunday morning we attended the pretty little church on the estate
which with its parsonage is a pleasing object on the grounds. The
next day the whole party were taken to Blenheim, the seat of the
famous Duke of Marlborough, built at the expense of the country.
The grounds are exquisite, but I was most charmed by the collection
of pictures. Here were the finest Vandykes, Rubens, and Sir Joshua
Reynolds which I have seen. Sir Robert Peel is a great connoisseur
in art and seemed highly to enjoy them. Altogether it was a truly
delightful day: the drive of fifteen miles in open carriages, and
through Oxford, being of itself a high pleasure. Yesterday we
returned to London, and on Thursday we set out for Scotland.

LETTER: To Mr. and Mrs. I.P.D.
EDINBURGH, August 16, 1848

My dear Uncle and Aunt: . . . Of Edinburgh I cannot say enough to
express my admiration. The Castle Rock, Arthur's Seat, Salisbury
Craigs and Calton Hill are all separate and fine mountains and, with
the Frith of Forth, the ocean and the old picturesque town, make an
assemblage of fine objects that I have seen nowhere else. Mr.
Rutherford, the Lord Advocate, who is of the Ministry, had written
to his friends that we were coming, and several gentlemen came by
breakfast time the next morning. Mr. Gordon, his nephew, married
the daughter of Prof. Wilson, and invited us to dine that day to
meet the professor, etc. . . . We drove out after breakfast into the
country to Hawthornden, formerly the residence of Drummond the poet,
and to Lord Roslin's grounds, where are the ruins of Roslin Castle
and above all, of the Roslin Chapel. . . . After lingering and
admiring long we returned to Edinburgh just in season for dinner at
Mr. Gordon's, where we found Prof. Wilson, and another daughter and
son, Mrs. Rutherford, wife of the Lord Advocate, and Capt.
Rutherford, his brother, with his wife. We had a very agreeable
evening and engaged to dine there again quite EN FAMILLE, with only
the professor, whose conversation is delightful.

The next morning we went out to Craigcrook, Lord Jeffrey's country
seat, to see and lunch with him. He was confined to his couch. . .
. He is seventy-three or seventy-four, but looks not a minute older
than fifty. He has a fine head and forehead, and most agreeable and
courteous manners, rather of the old school. As he could not rise
to receive me he kissed my hand. Mrs. Jeffrey is an intelligent and
agreeable woman but has been much out of health the last year. She
was Miss Wilkes of New York, you know. The house was an old
castellated and fortified house, and with modern additions is a most
beautiful residence. Capt. Rutherford told me that when he received
the Lord Advocate's letter announcing that we were coming, he went
to see Lord Jeffrey to know if he would be well enough to see us,
and he expressed the strongest admiration for Mr. Bancroft's work.

This may have disposed them to receive us with the cordiality which
made our visit so agreeable. Mr. Empson, his son-in-law and the
president editor of the Edinburgh Review, was staying there, and
after talking two hours with Lord and Mrs. Jeffrey we took with him
a walk in the grounds from which are delightful and commanding views
of the whole environs, and never were environs so beautiful.

LETTER: To W.D.B.
TARBET ON LOCH LOMOND, August 28, 1848

Dear W. . . . Being detained here by rain this morning I devote it
to you and to my journal. . . . The next day was Sunday but the
weather being fine we concluded to continue our journey, and
followed the Tay seeing Birnam Wood and Dunsinane on our way up to
Dunkeld, near to which is the fine seat of the Duke of Athol. We
took a delightful walk in the beautiful grounds, and went on to
Blair Athol to sleep. This is the chief residence of the Duke of
Athol and he has here another house and grounds very pretty though
not as extensive as those at Dunkeld. . . . When the innkeeper found
who we were he insisted on sending a message to the Duke who sent
down an order to us to drive up Glen Tilt and met us there himself.
We entered through the Park and followed up the Tilt. Nothing could
be more wild than this narrow winding pass which we followed for
eight miles till we came to the Duke's forest lodge. Here were
waiting for us a most picturesque group in full Highland dress: the
head stalker, the head shepherd, the kennel keepers with their dogs
in leashes, the piper, etc., etc. They told us that the Duke had
sent up word that we were coming and he would soon be there himself.

In a few moments he appeared also in full Highland costume with bare
knees, kilt, philibeg, etc. He told us he had then on these
mountains 15,000 head of dear, and thought we might like to see a
START, as it is called. The head stalker told him, however, that
the wind had changed which affects the scent, and that nothing could
be done that day. The Duke tried to make us amends by making some
of his people sing us Gaelic songs and show us some of the athletic
Highland games. The little lodge he also went over with us, and
said that the Duchess came there and lived six or seven weeks in the
autumn, and that the Duke and Duchess of Buccleuch rented it for
many years while he was a minor. If you could see the tiny little
rooms, you would be astonished to find what the love of sport can do
for these people who possess actual palaces.

After dining again upon salmon and grouse at the pretty little inn,
we took a post chaise to go on to Taymouth, a little village
adjoining Lord Breadalbane's place. We did not arrive at the inn
till after eight and found it completely full. . . . We were sent to
the schoolmaster's to sleep in the smallest of little rooms, with a
great clock which ticked and struck so loud that we were obliged to
silence it, to the great bewilderment, I dare say, of the scholars
the next day. Before we were in bed, there was a knock at the door,
which proved to be from Lord Breadalbane's butler, to say that he
had been commissioned to enquire whenever we arrived at the inn, as
his Lordship had heard that we were in Scotland and wished us to
make them a visit.

Next morning before we were up came a note from Lord Breadalbane
urging us to come immediately to the Castle. . . . Taymouth Castle,
though not more than fifty years old, has the air of an old feudal
castle. . . . As we were ushered up the magnificent staircase
through first a large antechamber, then through a superb hall with
lofty ceiling glowing with armorial bearings, and with the most
light and delicate carving on every part of the oaken panelling,
then through a long gallery, of heavier carving filled with fine old
cabinets, into the library, it seemed to me that the whole Castle
was one of those magical delusions that one reads of in Fairy Tales,
so strange did it seem to find such princely magnificence all alone
amid such wild and solitary scenes. I had always the feeling that
it would suddenly vanish, at some wave of an enchanter's wand, as it
must have arisen also. The library is by far the finest room I ever
saw. Its windows and arches and doorways are all of a fine carved
Gothic open work as light as gossamer. One door which he lately
added cost a thousand pounds, the door alone, not the doorway, so
you can judge of the exquisite workmanship. Here Lady Breadalbane
joined us, whom I had never before met. . . . During dinner the
piper in full costume was playing the pibroch in a gallery outside
the window, and after he had done a band, also in full Highland
dress, played some of the Italian, German as well as Scotch music,
at just an agreeable distance. 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: To I.P.D.
LONDON, June 8, 1849

I thank you, my dear Uncle, for your pleasant letter, which
contained as usual much that was interesting to me. And so Mr. and
Mrs. Lawrence are to be our successors. . . . Happy as we have been
here, I have a great satisfaction that we are setting rather than
rising; that we have done our work, instead of having it to do.
Like all our pleasures, those here are earned by fatigue and effort,
and I would not willingly live the last three years over again, or
three years like them, though they have contained high and lasting
gratifications. We have constantly the strongest expressions of
regret at our approaching departure, and in many cases it is, I
know, most genuine. My relations here have been most agreeable, and
particularly in that intellectual circle whose high character and
culture have made their regard most precious to me. The
manifestations of this kindness increase as the time approaches for
our going and we are inundated with invitations of all kinds.

Young Prescott is here. I wish Prescott could have seen his
reception at Lady Lovelace's the other evening when there happened
to be a collection of genius and literature. What a blessing it is
SOMETIMES to a son to have a father.

To-morrow we dine with Lord John Russell down at Pembroke Lodge in
Richmond Park. On Monday we breakfast with Macaulay. We met him at
dinner this week at Lady Waldegrave's, and he said: "Would you be
willing to breakfast with me some morning, if I asked one or two
other ladies?" "Willing!" I said, "I should be delighted beyond
measure." So he sent us a note for Monday next. I depend upon
seeing his bachelor establishment, his library, and mode of life.
On Wednesday we go to a ball at the Palace. But it is useless to go
on, for every day is filled in this way, and gives you an idea of
London in the season.

LETTER: To I.P.D.
LONDON, June 22, 1849

My dear Uncle: Yesterday I passed one of the most agreeable days I
have had in England at Oxford, where I went with a party to see Mr.
Bancroft take his degree. . . . Nothing could have gone off better
than the whole thing. Mr. Bancroft went up the day before, but Mrs.
Stuart Mackenzie and her daughter, with Lady Elizabeth Waldegrave,
Louisa, and myself went up yesterday morning and returned at night.
We lunched at the Vice-Chancellor's (where Mr. B. made a pleasant
little informal speech) and were treated with great kindness by
everybody. I wish you could have seen Mr. Bancroft walking round
all day with his scarlet gown and round velvet cap, such as you see
in old Venetian pictures. From this time forward we shall have the
pain of bidding adieu, one by one, to our friends, as they leave
town not to return till we are gone.

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