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Paris (search for this): chapter 13
Chapter 10: from over the sea, 1853. The Earl of Carlisle. Arthur helps. the Duke and Duchess of Argyll. Martin Farquhar Tupper. a memorable meeting at Stafford house. MacAULAYulay and Dean Milman. Windsor Castle. Professor Stowe returns to America. Mrs. Stowe on the continent. impressions of Paris. En route to Switzerland and Germany. back to England. Homeward bound. Rose Cottage, Walworth, London, May 2, 1856. My Dear,--This morning Mrs. Follen called and we had quite a chat. We are separated by the whole city. She lives at the West End, while I am down here in Walworth, which is one of the postscripts of London, for this place has as many postscripts as a lady's letter. This evening we dined with the Earl of Carlisle. There was no company but ourselves, for he, with great consideration, said in his note that he thought a little quiet would be the best thing he could offer. Lord Carlisle is a great friend to America, and so is his sister, the D
C. A. Hatherton (search for this): chapter 13
s returned to England, though with no sensible improvement in his health. At dinner we were introduced to Lord and Lady Hatherton. Lady Hatherton is a person of great cultivation and intelligence, warmly interested in all the progressive movementsLady Hatherton is a person of great cultivation and intelligence, warmly interested in all the progressive movements of the day; and I gained much information in her society. There were also present Sir Charles and Lady Trevelyan; the former holds an appointment at the treasury, and Lady Trevelyan is a sister of Macaulay. In the evening quite a circle came in Well, the Hons. and Right Hons. all were there. I sat by Lord Carlisle. After the concert the duchess asked Lady Hatherton and me to come round to Stafford House and take tea, which was not a thing to be despised, either on account of the tea or the duchess. A lovelier time we never had,--present, the Duchess of Argyll, Lady Caroline Campbell, Lady Hatherton, and myself. We had the nicest cup of tea, with such cream, and grapes and apricots, with some Italian bread, etc. When we w
Macaulay (search for this): chapter 13
y Trevelyan; the former holds an appointment at the treasury, and Lady Trevelyan is a sister of Macaulay. In the evening quite a circle came in, among others Lady Emma Campbell, sister of the Duke rse must have forgotten many more. Archbishop Whateley was there, with Mrs. and Miss Whateley; Macaulay, with two of his sisters; Milman, the poet and historian; the Bishop of Oxford, Chevalier Bunseduced into it will most particularly be appreciated by you. In your evening reading circles, Macaulay, Sydney Smith, and Milman have long been such familiar names that you will be glad to go with mir Charles Trevelyan's yesterday. Lady Trevelyan, I believe I have said before, is a sister of Macaulay. We were set down at Westbourne Terrace somewhere, I believe, about eleven o'clock, and found quite a number already in the drawing-room. I had met Macaulay before, but being seated between him and Dean Milman, I must confess I was a little embarrassed at times, because I wanted to hear wha
Thun (search for this): chapter 13
r voiture, and bade adieu to our friends and to Geneva. Ah, how regretfully! From the market-place we carried away a basket of cherries and fruit as a consolation. Dined at Lausanne, and visited the cathedral and picture-gallery, where was an exquisite Eva. Slept at Meudon. Tuesday, July 19. Rode through Payerne to Freyburg. Stopped at the Zahringer Hof,--most romantic of inns. Wednesday, July 20. Examined, not the lions, but the bears of Berne. Engaged a voiture and drove to Thun. Dined and drove by the shore of the lake to Interlachen, arriving just after a brilliant sunset. We crossed the Wengern Alps to Grindelwald. The Jungfrau is right over against us,--her glaciers purer, tenderer, more dazzlingly beautiful, if possible, than those of Mont Blanc. Slept at Grindelwald. From Rosenlaui, on this journey, Charles Beecher writes:-- Friday, July 22. Grindelwald to Meyringen. On we came, to the top of the Great Schiedeck, where H. and W. botanized, wh
Emerson (search for this): chapter 13
rgy and vivacity. His talents and efficiency have made him a member of the British Cabinet at a much earlier age than is usual; and he has distinguished himself not only in political life, but as a writer, having given to the world a work on Presbyterianism, embracing an analysis of the ecclesiastical history of Scotland since the Reformation, which is spoken of as written with great ability, and in a most liberal spirit. He made many inquiries about our distinguished men, particularly of Emerson, Longfellow, and Hawthorne; also of Prescott, who appears to be a general favorite here. I felt at the moment that we never value our own literary men so much as when we are placed in a circle of intelligent foreigners. The following evening we went to dine with our old friends of the Dingle, Mr. and Mrs. Edward Cropper, who are now spending a little time in London. We were delighted to meet them once more and to hear from our Liverpool friends. Mrs. Cropper's father, Lord Denman, has
MacAULAYulay (search for this): chapter 13
Chapter 10: from over the sea, 1853. The Earl of Carlisle. Arthur helps. the Duke and Duchess of Argyll. Martin Farquhar Tupper. a memorable meeting at Stafford house. MacAULAYulay and Dean Milman. Windsor Castle. Professor Stowe returns to America. Mrs. Stowe on the continent. impressions of Paris. En route to Switzerland and Germany. back to England. Homeward bound. Rose Cottage, Walworth, London, May 2, 1856. My Dear,--This morning Mrs. Follen called and we had quite a chat. We are separated by the whole city. She lives at the West End, while I am down here in Walworth, which is one of the postscripts of London, for this place has as many postscripts as a lady's letter. This evening we dined with the Earl of Carlisle. There was no company but ourselves, for he, with great consideration, said in his note that he thought a little quiet would be the best thing he could offer. Lord Carlisle is a great friend to America, and so is his sister, the Du
Viscountess Palmerston (search for this): chapter 13
kindness which she had shown before. We were presented to the Duke of Sutherland. He is a tall, slender man, with rather a thin face, light-brown hair, and a mild blue eye, with an air of gentleness and dignity. Among the first that entered were the members of the family, the Duke and Duchess of Argyll, Lord and Lady Blantyre, the Marquis and Marchioness of Stafford, and Lady Emma Campbell. Then followed Lord Shaftesbury with his beautiful lady, and her father and mother, Lord and Lady Palmerston. Lord Palmerston is of middle height, with a keen dark eye and black hair streaked with gray. There is something peculiarly alert and vivacious about all his movements; in short, his appearance perfectly answers to what we know of him from his public life. One has a strange, mythological feeling about the existence of people of whom one hears for many years without ever seeing them. While talking with Lord Palmerston I could but remember how often I had heard father and Mr. S. exulti
Mary Edmonson (search for this): chapter 13
erily never thought but that the nice, pleasant person who came to measure me for my silk dress was going to take it home and make it herself; it never occurred to me that she was the head of an establishment. May 22, she writes to her husband, whose duties had obliged him to return to America: May 22. To-day we went to hear a sermon in behalf of the ragged schools by the Archbishop of Canterbury. My thoughts have been much saddened by the news which I received of the death of Mary Edmonson. May 30. The next day from my last letter came off Miss Greenfield's concert, of which I send a card. You see in what company they have put your poor little wife. Funny!--is n't it? Well, the Hons. and Right Hons. all were there. I sat by Lord Carlisle. After the concert the duchess asked Lady Hatherton and me to come round to Stafford House and take tea, which was not a thing to be despised, either on account of the tea or the duchess. A lovelier time we never had,--pr
William H. Prescott (search for this): chapter 13
siastical history of Scotland since the Reformation, which is spoken of as written with great ability, and in a most liberal spirit. He made many inquiries about our distinguished men, particularly of Emerson, Longfellow, and Hawthorne; also of Prescott, who appears to be a general favorite here. I felt at the moment that we never value our own literary men so much as when we are placed in a circle of intelligent foreigners. The following evening we went to dine with our old friends of the nately, and we learned that, had we not been so reserved at the York station in concealing our names, we should have received a note from her. However, as we were safely arrived, it was of no consequence. Our friends spoke much of Sumner and Prescott, who had visited there; also of Mr. Lawrence, our former ambassador, who had visited them just before his return. After a very pleasant day, we left with regret the warmth of this hospitable circle, thus breaking one more of the links that bind
Stafford (search for this): chapter 13
e duchess appeared, I thought she looked handsomer by daylight than in the evening. She received us with the same warm and simple kindness which she had shown before. We were presented to the Duke of Sutherland. He is a tall, slender man, with rather a thin face, light-brown hair, and a mild blue eye, with an air of gentleness and dignity. Among the first that entered were the members of the family, the Duke and Duchess of Argyll, Lord and Lady Blantyre, the Marquis and Marchioness of Stafford, and Lady Emma Campbell. Then followed Lord Shaftesbury with his beautiful lady, and her father and mother, Lord and Lady Palmerston. Lord Palmerston is of middle height, with a keen dark eye and black hair streaked with gray. There is something peculiarly alert and vivacious about all his movements; in short, his appearance perfectly answers to what we know of him from his public life. One has a strange, mythological feeling about the existence of people of whom one hears for many years
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