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Yesterday I passed at the Rectory of the venerable Archdeacon Scott,—a friend of Horne Tooke and Parr,—and, on his invitation and in his clerical company, disguised in old clothes loaned for the occasion, and weighed down by heavy shoes, went on the fells and moors in his neighborhood to shoot grouse and partridges.
Our dog started several coveys; but my gun missed, as also did that of the dignitary of the Church, and I contented myself with peppering to death a poor hare!
I am no Nimrod,—as you well know,—though my parson is, and I can well bear the mortification of an empty game-bag in such company.1 While we were on the moors it rained constantly, and the shower has been descending all day. In the rain, however, I left the archdeacon this morning, and mounted on his horse, and with his groom in attendance (my luggage being previously sent on), spattered over the moors and valleys of Northumberland, then took an open gig, and at three o'clock drove into the court-yard-all surrounded by battlements — of Brougham Hall.2 I was thoroughly wet, and covered with mud. On my mentioning my situation to his Lordship, who kindly received me in the hall, he himself at once showed me to my bed-room, where I enjoyed the comfort of a complete change of dress.
After I came downstairs, he left me in the library, and went about writing letters, which were to leave by the mail before dinner.
He wrote more than the number which he could frank,—that is, ten,—and at six o'clock was in the library dressed for dinner.
The only person besides myself was an old familiar friend, a clergyman (who brought with him as a present to the
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1 Archdeacon T. H. Scott wrote, Feb. 5, 1839, from Whitfield Rectory, Haydon Bridge, Northutmberlarnd: ‘If you received any pleasure here, either in shooting at grouse or in killing a hare, I do assure you the pleasure I enjoyed in your company, when you were kind enough to favor a poor mountain curate with a visit, was as great. I not only yield to you as a matter of courtesy, being my guest, the important question as to who killed the hare, but I have another reason for doing so. For the first time, I believe, in the Annals of the Parish since it was granted by Ada, Countess of Northumberland, in the reign of Henry II., to her almoner, Matthew de Whitfield, there now stands recorded in the Game-Book, “ One hare: Mr. Sumner, a Republican born.” ’ The archdeacon volunteered a letter of introduction to Count Albrizzi, of Venice, in which he commended Sumner as ‘a man of great talent, and in search of literature and all that is worth seeing;’ and another to Tomaso Morenigo Soranzo, of an ancient Venetian family; but neither letter was used.
2 Lord Brougham was born in 1779 and died in 1868. His mother, Eleanora, the only child of Rev. James Syme, and on her mother's side the niece of Robertson the historian, died Dec. 31, 1839, at the age (as given in Burke's Peerage) of eighty-nine. His Lordship's daughter, an only child, died Nov. 30, 1839, at the age of seventeen. He bought, in 1840, an estate near Cannes, France, and built upon it a house which he called ‘Chateau Eleanor Louise,’ in memory of his daughter, to whom tributes on its walls were inscribed by himself and his friends. Campbell's ‘Life of Brougham,’ ch. VI. and VIII. He died at this retreat, where he was accustomed to pass the winter season. In 1838, he was writing ‘Sketches of Statesmen of the Time of George III.,’ which were published, 1839-43. He invited Sumner to dine with him at 4 Grafton Street, London, in February, 1839. In the letter introducing him to Baron Alderson, he said: ‘This will be delivered by C. Sumner of the American bar, whose reports I have read with satisfaction; who is also editor of the “Jurist.” He is an estimable man, and I am desirous of his being known to you.’ Sumner received from Lord Brougham many courtesies in June and July, 1857, and in October visited him at Brougham Hall, when his Lordship gave him some souvenirs,—a medal portrait of himself, and colored prints of Edmund Burke when young (Sir Joshua Reynolds), and of the Madonna (Raphael).
Cambridge, MA. Press of John Wilson and Son. 1877.
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