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MARY    HOWITT 


•Eaffantgne  pw« 

BALLANTYNE,    HANSON    AND   CO. 
EDINBURGH  AND  LONDON 


Woodhtrytyfe, 


MARY    HOWITT 


Hn 


EDITED  BY   HER   DAUGHTER 


"  Confide  to  God  that  thou  hast  from  Him ;  oh  thou  soul  weary  of 
wandering !    Confide  to  the  Truth,  that  which  is  from  the  Truth  within 

thee,  and  thou  shalt  lose  nothing." 

ST.  AUGUSTINE 


IN    TWO    VOLUMES 
VOL.  II. 


LONDON 
WM.    ISBISTER    LIMITED 

15  &  16  TAVISTOCK  STREET  COVENT  GARDEN 
1889 


PR 


V 


CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER    I. 

AT  CLAPTON. 

1843-1848. 

ONCE  MORE  IN  ENGLAND ILLNESS  AND  DEATH  OP  CLAUDE  HOWITT — 

THE  "  THIRTEEN  TALES  FOR  THE  PEOPLE  AND  THEIR  CHILDREN  " 
— "THE  DRAWING-ROOM  SCRAP-BOOK" — SUCCESS  IN  ENGLAND 
AND  AMERICA  OF  THE  TRANSLATIONS  OF  FREDRIKA  BREMER's 

NOVELS — VISIT  TO  NORTH  WALES — REMOVAL  TO  THE  ELMS 

"HOMES  AND  HAUNTS  OF  THE  POETS"  —  BALLADS  —  DANISH 
TRANSLATIONS — H.  C.  ANDERSEN — -WILLIAM  HOWITT  AT  THE 
WORDSWORTHS' —  THE  ANTI-SLAVERY  QUESTION  • —  FERDINAND 

FREILIGRATH  —  CONNECTION     WITH     FRIENDS THE  PEOPLE'S 

JOURNAL HO  WITTS  JOURNAL CO-OPERATION  LETTERS  ON  LABOUR 

— AN  HOUR  OF  GREAT  DARKNESS RESIGNATION  OF  MEMBER- 
SHIP IN  THE  SOCIETY  OF  FRIENDS DEATH  OF  MARY  HOWITT'S 

YOUNGER  SISTER,  AND  OF  HER  MOTHER   . 

CHAPTER  II. 

IN  ST.  JOHN'S  WOOD. 
1848-1852. 

REMOVAL  TO  THE  NEIGHBOURHOOD  OF  REGENT'S  PARK "  OUR  COUSINS 

IN  OHIO  " — "  THE  CHILDREN'S  YEAR  " — "  THE  HEIR  OF  WAST 

WAYLAND  " — JOHN  CASSELL THE  YOUL  FORGERIES ANNA  MARY 

HOWITT  AT  MUNICH — COMMENCEMENT  OF  THE  HOUSEHOLD  WORDS 
— AT  FILEY  AND  SCARBOROUGH — THE  BALLADS  OF  "RICHARD 
BURNELL"  AND  "  THOMAS  HARLOWE  " — THE  "  NO  POPERY  "  MOVE- 
MENT  THE  APPARITION  OF  LORD  WALLSCOURT HARRIET  MARTI- 

VOL.    II.  b 


vi  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

NEAU HISTORY    OF    SCANDINAVIAN    LITERATURE FIRST    GREAT 

EXHIBITION  IN  HYDE  PARK THE  P.  R.  B/S PRIVATE  EXHIBI- 
TION AT  THE  PORTLAND  GALLERY — VISIT  TO  CAMBRIDGE  — FROM 
SOUTH-END  TO  LONDON  BRIDGE — FREDRIKA  BREMER  ON  HER 

TRAVELS DISCOVERY  OF  GOLD  IN  AUSTRALIA — WILLIAM  HOWITT 

AND  HIS  TWO  SONS  SAIL  FOR  MELBOURNE  ....          45 

CHAPTER  III. 

THE   HERMITAGE. 
1852-1857. 

REMOVAL  TO  THE  HERMITAGE THE  P.  R.  B.'s KINDNESS  OF  MISS 

BURDETT-COUTTS "UNCLE   TOM'S  CABIN"  ADDRESS   FROM 

THE  WOMEN  OF  ENGLAND  TO  THE  WOMEN  OF  AMERICA  ON  SLAVERY 
— ENNEMOSER'S  "  HISTORY  OF  MAGIC  " — GROWING  BELIEF  IN  THE 

SUPERNATURAL — WILLIAM   HOWITT's  ILLNESS   IN   THE  BUSH 

RUMOURED  DEATH  OF  THE  QUEEN MEETING  AT  STAFFORD  HOUSE 

ARRIVAL   IN  LONDON  OF  MRS.   STOWE — TABLE-TURNING  AND 

SPIRITUALISM AT  CHOBHAM  CAMP — STAY  AT  UTTOXETER RE- 
TURN OF  WILLIAM  HOWITT  AND  HIS  SON  CHARLTON A  PROJECT 

OF  PROCURING  PARLIAMENT  HILL  FOR  THE  PEOPLE — PETITION 
TO  SECURE  TO  MARRIED  WOMEN  THEIR  OWN  PROPERTY  AND 
SAVINGS REMOVAL  TO  WEST  HILL  LODGE  .  .  .  ,87 

CHAPTER  IV. 
WEST  HILL  LODGE. 

1857-1866. 

THE  NEW  HOME AT  ABER — NEED  OF  A  WELSH  SIR  WALTER  SCOTT  — 

"THE  MAN  OF  THE  PEOPLE" — AT  THORPE  IN  DERBYSHIRE — EXCUR- 
SION INTO  THE  NORTH  OF  STAFFORDSHIRE — MARRIAGE  OF  ANNA 

MARY  HOWITT  TO  ALARIC  ALFRED  WATTS IN  THE  ISLE  OF  WIGHT 

CHARLTON  HOWITT  EMIGRATES  TO  NEW  ZEALAND — HIS  DEATH 

THERE — ALFRED  HOWITT,  THE  EXPLORER BITS  OF  LIFE  AT  WEST 

HILL  LODGE — PEN-Y-BRYN THE  ABUSES  OF  TRAPPING "COST 

OF  CAERGWYN" — AT  SCALANDS — "  THE  NORTHERN  HEIGHTS  "    .     119 


CONTENTS.  vii 

CHAPTER    V. 
THE  ORCHARD. 

1866-1870. 

PAGE 

COUNTRY  LIFE  AT  THE  ORCHARD — CLAREMONT THE  BEGGAR'S  GIFT 

AND  DORCAS  WORK — ATTEMPTED  ENCLOSURE  OF  EPPING  FOREST 

QUIET  INCIDENTS DEATH  OF  RICHARD  HOWITT "  THE  EARTHLY 

PARADISE" — COMING  FROM  "THE  DERBY" — AT  MRS.  CRAIK'S — 

IN  THE  MIDLAND  COUNTIES CHARMS  OF   CLERICAL  LIFE — AN 

APPOINTMENT  TO  THE  BISHOPRIC  OF  OXFORD — ABER  HORSE-FAIR 

THE  ATTRACTIONS   OF   PENMAENMAWR HAFODUNOS TWO 

BIRTHDAY  LETTERS — QUITTING  ENGLAND  FOR  ITALY  .         .      159 

CHAPTER  VI. 

IN  SWITZERLAND  AND  ITALY. 
1870-1871. 

ARRIVAL  IN  SWITZERLAND THE  WIERTZ  COLLECTION  OF  PAINTINGS 

AT  BRUSSELS HAPPY  CONDITION  OF  THE  SWISS A   CANTONAL 

ELECTION  RICHARD   WAGNER  AND    HIS   PARTY  WORKING 

MEN'S    UNIONS — THE    CONVENT   OF    INGENBOHL,   AND    OTHER 

INCIDENTS  AT  BRUNNEN — AT  LUCERNE BREAKING  OUT  OF  THE 

FRANCO-GERMAN  WAR AT  ZURICH DOROTHEA  TRUDEL?S  INSTI- 
TUTION  AT  RAGATZ BELLAGIO VENICE — ROME THE  POLITI- 
CAL STATE  OF  THE  CITY THE  FLOOD THE  ARRIVAL  OF  VICTOR 

EMMANUEL A  MAD   CARNIVAL — AN  IRASCIBLE  LANDLORD — AN 

ANECDOTE  OF  KEATS  — "  WHO  BREAKS  PAYS  !  " CELEBRATION  OF 

GOLDEN  WEDDING          -         .         .         .         .         .         .         .183 

CHAPTER  VII. 

ROME   AND   TYROL. 
1871-1879. 

THE  CHARMS  AND  CHARACTER  OF  ROME — SUMMER  HOME  IN  TYROL 

AT  OVERBECK'S  VILLA  IN  ROCCA  DI  PAPA — THE  FLOWER  FESTIVAL 


CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

OF  GENZANO  — VISIT  TO  A  TYROLEAN  ALP — AN  ITALIAN  EXODUS 
TO  ROME — A  LOVE  OF  ROME  BUT  NOT  OF  PAPACY — WHERE 
LOCATED  —  THE  ART-BRETHREN  OF  ST.  LUKE — THE  MONASTERY  OF 
ST.  ISIDORE — THE  CHURCH  OF  S.  MARIA  REPARATRICE— GENTLE- 
MEN OF  THE  RELIGIOUS  TRACT  SOCIETY IN  ST.  PETER'S  AND  ON 

THE  PINCIO— SETTLERS  IN  THE  AMERICAN  BACKWOODS — THE  SCAN-     . 

DINAVIANS  IN    ROME — ROCCA  DI   PAPA "  GINX's  BABY  " "  LIFE 

OF  PERE  BESSON  " PROTESTANTISM  IN  ROME — ROCCA  DI  PAPA  AND 

A    CATHOLIC    SCHOOLMASTER MRS.    GOULD'S    SCHOOL — VISIT   TO 

ROME  OF    THE  BISHOP  OF  ARGYLL  AND  THE  ISLES — AT   MERAN 

EFFECTS      OF      EMANCIPATION     ON     AMERICAN      SLAVES YOUNG 

AMERICA    IN    OLD    ROME— -THE     GOULD    SCHOOL — AT   ALBANO — A 

SCOTCH    PHILANTHROPIST    AND    GARIBALDI THE    TRAPPISTS   OF 

THE  TRE  FONTANE — PALM    SUNDAY — MARGARET  GILLIES — FATAL 

ILLNESS     OF    MARGARET    FOLEY HER     DEATH     AT    MERAN THE 

SCENERY   OF   MERAN — THE    DEATHS    OF    VICTOR    EMMANUEL    AND 

PIUS    IX. — ELECTION   OF    CARDINAL    PECCI    AS    POPE  LEO  XIII. 

WILLIAM     HOWITT     ON     THE    PINCIAN     HILL    AND    AT     MAYR-AM- 

HOF     .  .  .  .  .  •  .  .  •  •  .217 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE  HOME  IN  MERAN. 
1879-1882. 

55  VIA  SISTINA KNITTING    UP   OF   OLD   TIES   IN  ROME FRIENDS  AND 

ACQUAINTANCE THE     ILLNESS,     DEATH,     AND     INTERMENT     OF 

WILLIAM    HOWITT DECEASE   OF  FRANCIS   HOWITT  AND  OF  JAMES 

MACDONELL — LIFE*S  APPIAN  WAY GRANT  OF  A  PENSION AT  THE 

VILLA  LIVIA — SMILES    AND    TEARS — DESIRE   TO   DIE    IN   ROME 

CARDINAL  NEWMAN — BUDDHISM — AT  MERAN BUILDING  MARIEN- 

RUHE — SCHLOSS  PALLAUS — AT  DIETENHEIM  AND  MARIENRUHE — 
DEATH  OF  MARY  HOWITT's  SISTER  ANNA  .  .  .  .278 


CONTENTS.  ix 

CHAPTER  IX. 

IN  THE  ETERNAL  CITY. 
1882-1888. 

PRAYER     FOR      1882 — CONVERSION      TO      THE     CATHOLIC      CHURCH 

ARRIVAL    OF    ELDEST    GRANDSON — MR.    LEIGH    SMITH'S    ARCTIC 

EXPEDITION AWFUL     FLOODS     IN     THE     TYROL CONFIRMATION 

AT     BRIXEN EASTER     CELEBRATIONS — LONDON     VISITORS THE 

SCHUTZEN-VEREIN LETTER      TO     A      CATHOLIC      CONVERT THE 

ROSARY — PASSING   AWAY   OF  ANNA    MARY    HOWITT    WATTS — THE 

DUKE    AND    DUCHESS    CHARLES    OF    BAVARIA WELCOME    GUESTS 

—  A  MOUNTAIN  HOSPITAL — "ALL  SORTS  AND  CONDITIONS  OF 
MEN  " MILITARY  MANOEUVRES  BEFORE  THE  EMPEROR  OF  AUS- 
TRIA  SERIOUS  ILLNESS "THE  DREAM  OF  GERONTIUS  " LAST 

BIRTHDAY    ON    EARTH — THE    QUEEN'S    JUBILEE — RETURNING    TO 

ROME    FOR    THE     PAPAL     JUBILEE YORKSHIRE     VISITORS — SAFE 

ARRIVAL    IN    ROME PILGRIMAGES PURPORT     OF    THE    JUBILEE 

— PRAYER  FOR  1 888 — THE  PAPAL  JUBILEE  MASS — VISIT  TO 
THE  VATICAN — THE  BLESSING  OF  LEO  XIII. — THE  END  .  -1 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


PORTRAIT  OF  MART  HOWITT  (from  a  photograph)       .         frontispiece. 

PAGE 

THE  ELMS,  CLAPTON.         .         .         .         .         .         .         .  .       27 

BELSIZE  LANE  .  .......       56 

ANDREW  MARVELL'S  COTTAGE     .         .         .         .         .         .  .88 

CHARLES  MATHEW'S  HOUSE,  HIGHGATE      .         .         .  .89 

WILLIAM  AND  MARY  HOWITT  AT  THE  HERMITAGE     .         .  .109 

WEST  HILL  LODGE   .         :         .         .         .        ..         .         .  .120 

PEN-Y-BRYN      .         .         .         .         .-.-..«.         .  .     150 

THE  ORCHARD   .         .         ,        .         .                 .         .        .  .161 

MAYR-AM-HOF -.        .        .         .  .218 

ENTRANCE  TO  BACKYARD,  MAYR-AM-HOF    .         .         .        .  .219 

THE  FRESCO      .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .  .220 

THE  ELABORATE  PILE  OF  WHITE  FAIENCE  IN  THE  SALOON  .     222 

MAYR-AM-HOF  FROM  THE  KlTCHEN-GARDEN         .         .         .  .271 

THE  CLOSED  ENTRANCE-GATE      .         .         .                  .         .  .272 

A  BIT  OF  THE  LARGE  UPPER  HALL           .         .         .         .  -274 

A  PEEP  INTO  THE  SALOON        .         .         .         .         .         .  .27^5 

ONE  OF  THE  OLD  PAINTED  DOORS     .         .         .         .         .  .276 

MARIENRUHE     ...  ......     309 


xii  LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

PAGE 

MARIENEUHE  :  YIEW  LOOKING  EAST. 311 

MARIENRUHE  :  VIEW  LOOKING  WEST          .         .         .         .  3 1 3 

ARCHWAY  OP  VILLAGE  CHURCH 333 

CRUCIFIX  ON  THE  COMMON         .         .         .         .         .         .         -334 

VlEW    OF    THE   VlA    SlSTINA   AND    THE   VlA    GfiEGORIANA,    ROME     .       347 


MARY    HO  WITT. 

CHAPTER  I. 

AT    CLAPTON. 
1843-184.8. 

ON  our  return  to  England  in  April  1843  I  was  full  of 
energy  and  hope.  Glowing  with  aspiration,  and  in  the 
enjoyment  of  great  domestic  happiness,  I  was  antici- 
pating a  busy,  perhaps  overburdened,  but  neverthless 
congenial  life.  It  was,  however,  to  be  one  of  darkness, 
perplexity,  and  discouragement. 

Just  before  our  departure  from  Heidelberg  we  made 
a  pedestrian  excursion  into  the  remnants  of  the  ancient 
Hardt  Forest.  There,  seated  at  the  foot  of  a  mighty  pine- 
tree,  Frau  von  Schoultz,  the  niece  of  the  Royal  Academi- 
cian, Thomas  Phillips,  sang  so  splendidly,  in  Swedish, 
Tegner's  "  Old  Gothic  Lion,"  an  heroic  national  air 
greatly  beloved  in  Sweden,  that  some  peasant-girls  cut- 
ting an  early  growth  in  the  glades  of  the  wood  came 
forth,  and  with  brandished  sickles  kept  time  to  the 
strain. 

It  was  a  lovely  day  and  a  beautiful  scene,  yet  marked 
by  an  unspeakable  sadness,  which  was  afterwards  to  dim 
the  brightness  of  our  lives.  Our  handsome,  nimble  little 
Claude,  then  in  his  tenth  year,  and  called  by  his  pre- 

VOL.  II.  A 


2  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  i. 

ceptors,  for  the  sweetness  of  his  disposition  and  his 
brilliant  attainments,  der  goldene  Junge,  was  perceived 
to  be  lame.  He  said,  "  It  was  nothing."  But  when  we 
insisted  on  an  explanation,  he  confessed  to  his  right 
knee  being  tired.  "  It  hurt  him  just  a  little  ;  nothing  to 
speak  of." 

He  continued  to  limp,  and  we,  naturally  troubled,  to 
ask,  "  What  did  it  mean  ?  " — "  He  fancied  it  was  sprained. 

He  had  felt  it  ever  since (mentioning  an  English 

youth),  following  him  up  the  staircase,  had,  for  a  joke, 
lifted  him  up  by  the  collar  over  the  balustrade,  which  was 
not  much  more  than  a  yard  above  the  pavement.  Some- 
how he  had  slipped  out  of  his  hands  and  dropped,  but  he 
had  lighted  on  his  feet.  He  had  not  been  hurt.  He  only 
felt  his  knee  when  he  was  tired." 

Poor  Claude  !  He  seemed  so  bright  and  cheerful,  that, 
by  some  strange  chance,  although  shocked  by  the  dis- 
closure, we  accepted  his  explanation.  The  entire  party 
returned  home  weary ;  and  he  seeming  not  more  so  than 
the  rest,  we  forgot,  in  the  stir  and  occupation  of  leaving 
Heidelberg,  our  momentary  anxiety. 

But  after  my  husband  and  I,  with  the  younger  children, 
had  arrived  in  England,  and  we  were  busy  settling  in  a 
house  we  had  taken  at  Upper  Clapton,  we  received  a 
letter  from  our  daughter,  Anna  Mary,  that  filled  us  with 
dismay  and  anguish.  Claude's  knee  had  developed  the 
most  alarming  features  of  disease.  The  English  physician 
at  Mannheim,  who  had  seen  him,  desired  that  his  parents 
might  be  immediately  apprised,  and  he  taken  home.  With 
scarcely  the  delay  of  an  hour,  therefore,  William  set  off 
to  Heidelberg,  and  brought  back  the  dear  child  from  the 
first-rate  private  school  where  we  had  left  him  with  his 
eldest  brother. 


1843-48.]  AT  CLAPTON.  3 

To  ANNA  HARRISON. 

"  TJie  Grange,  Upper  Clapton,  July  23,  1843. — My 
week  consists  generally  of  seven  working  days,  or,  speak- 
ing more  correctly,  perhaps,  because  my  employment  is 
very  much  to  my  mind,  my  week  is  made  up  of  seven 
active  Sabbaths.  The  first  day,  however,  is  distinguished 
from  the  other  six  as  the  day  when  I  mostly  write  to 
those  I  love  best. 

"  I  do  not  know  whether  dear  mother  has  told  thee  of 
poor  Claude's  sad  accident,  and  of  his  being  now  at 
home  perfectly  lame.  Oh !  it  has  been  the  saddest  trial 
we  ever  had  in  our  lives  !  Never  was  my  heart  so  wrung ; 
never  did  I  shed  such  bitter  tears  as  I  have  done  over 
this  poor  child  !  William  fetched  Claude  from  Germany. 
He  then  took  him  to  Mr.  Liston,  one  of  the  most  emi- 
nent physicians  in  London.  He  could  counsel  nothing 
but  amputation.  We  could  only  consent  to  this  as  the 
very  last  means.  William  thought  then  of  taking 
him  to  Sir  Benjamin  Brodie ;  but  that  kind,  excellent 
man,  Joseph  Pease,  of  Darlington,  a  very  particular 
friend  of  William's,  begged  him  first  to  ask  the  advice 
of  Dr.  Bevan,  a  Friend,  a  very  clever  and  conscientious 
man,  whom,  supposing  Claude  were  his  child,  he  should 
employ. 

"  Dr.  Bevan  recommended  Mr.  Aston  Key,  and  under 
his  care,  accordingly,  Claude  was  put.  He,  like  Liston, 
thought  the  case  was  most  serious.  He  would  not  give 
us  hope,  but  said  there  was  a  chance  of  his  regaining  the 
use  of  the  limb.  He  advised  bandaging,  and  accordingly 
that  has  been  done.  Thou  canst  believe,  dear  sister, 
what  an  awful  trial  this  is.  You  have  had  experience  of 
a  similar  affliction,  and  can  sympathise  with  us.  Alas ! 
I  was  proud  of  Claude,  who,  I  fancied,  would  make  a 


4  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  i. 

figure  in  life.  I  am  humbled  now.  I  throw  all  on  the 
mercy  of  God,  and  hope  and  trust  that  He  may  bless  the 
means  which  we  make  use  of  to  restore  him. 

"  Poor  Claude  has  a  nice  little  invalid  -  carriage, 
with  an  inclining  seat,  so  that  he  lies  in  it,  and  in  it 
he  passes  nearly  the  entire  day.  Charlton,  who  is  as 
sturdy  as  a  little  pony,  draws  him  about  the  garden,  and 
one  of  the  servants  when  we  go  out  all  of  us  together. 
I  am  impatient  to  get  the  other  two  dear  children  home, 
for,  till  they  are  with  us,  I  do  not  feel  sure  but  that  some 
other  trouble  may  be  impending  over  us.  Among  the 
many  blessings  that  I  have,  I  must  not  forget  dear 
William.  He  has  the  heart  of  an  affectionate  woman, 
with  all  the  solidity  of  judgment  and  the  firmness  of 
the  most  masculine  mind.  Night  and  day  is  he  always 
ready  to  help,  to  comfort,  to  suggest,  and,  what  is  more 
than  all,  to  do.  He  carries  Claude  in  his  arms  up  and 
down  stairs.  He  thinks  nothing  a  trouble ;  he  is  never 
out  of  temper.  I  grumble,  despond,  and  am  petulant ; 
he  is  none  of  these. 

"And  now,  what  do  I  mean  to  do  with  regard  to  'the 
Society '  ?  Nothing,  dear  Anna.  If  they  will  let  me 
alone,  I  shall  let  them  alone.  We  shall  occasionally  go 
to  meeting,  but  shall  endeavour  to  find  some  place  of 
worship  near  us,  which  may  suit  us  better  than  Friends' 
Meeting.  Our  children  would  derive  no  benefit  from 
going  there,  and  for  their  sakes  we  must  find  some  place 
of  worship  where  we  may  take  them  regularly.  I  fancy 
in  religious  opinion  I  differ  from  thee,  because  mere 
creeds  matter  nothing  to  me.  I  could  go  one  Sunday  to~ 
the  Church  of  England,  another  to  a  Catholic  chapel, 
a  third  to  a  Unitarian,  and  so  on ;  and  in  each  of  them 
find  my  heart  warmed  with  Christian  love  to  my  fellow- 


1843-48.]  AT  CLAPTON.  5 

creatures  and  lifted  up  with  gratitude  and  praise  to  God. 
But  indeed  each  day,  each  passing  hour  almost,  preaches 
some  sermon  to  me  ;  and  if  I  never  entered  an  acknow- 
ledged place  of  worship,  I  should  believe  that,  in  my 
way,  my  worship  would  not  be  unacceptable  to  Heaven. 
Nevertheless,  we  feel  it  right  that  the  children  should 
be  brought  up  with  some  little  religious  discipline  as  to 
mere  outward  form ;  and,  please  Heaven,  we  will  endea- 
vour, in  the  home-life,  to  instil  into  their  souls  the  spirit 
of  Christian  love." 

"Sunday,  Oct.  8,  1843. — With  the  exception  of 
Claude,  we  are  all  quite  well.  Little  Meggie  is  now  in 
the  room  with  me.  She  is  a  regular  girl,  a  tidy  little 
body,  who  never  is  so  happy  as  when  she  is  doing  some 
kind  of  woman's  work.  Her  great  delight  is  to  arrange 
my  things.  She  is  as  still  as  a  mouse,  and  turns  out  my 
drawers  and  boxes  and  lays  everything  in  again  in  the 
neatest  way ;  and  I  never  know  where  to  find  what  I 
want.  But  it  amuses  her  and  gratifies  her  love  of 
order. 

"  We  have  just  now  a  great  cause  of  annoyance,  and 
which  will  be  a  cause  of  loss  to  us.  A  publisher  in 
London,  a  low  fellow,  has  brought  out  the  remainder 
of  Mdlle.  Bremer's  works  for  one-and-sixpence  each,  the 
very  books  we  are  now  translating.  It  is  very  mortifying, 
because  no  one  knew  of  these  Swedish  novels  till  we 
introduced  them.  It  obliges  us  to  hurry  in  all  that  we 
do,  and  we  must  write  almost  night  and  day  to  get 
ours  out,  that  we  may  have  some  little  chance.  Though 
many  persons  will  no  doubt  buy  this  cheap  edition,  we 
still  hope  that  the  circulating  libraries  will  take  ours.  It 
made  me  quite  poorly  last  week." 


6  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  i. 

''Sunday,  Oct.  15. — How  art  thou,  beloved  sister, 
this  fine,  fresh  autumn  morning?  Oh,  how  lovely  every- 
thing looks !  It  has  been  a  stormy  week,  rain,  mist, 
and  wind ;  but  all  now  is  calm,  bright,  and  fresh.  It 
does  one  good,  for  it  reminds  one  of  such  periods  in 
one's  own  experience.  This  morning,  as  I  went  into 
the  garden,  there  was  a  sound  of  church  bells,  a  mur- 
muring as  if  the  very  air  was  full  of  them.  Now 
and  then  there  dropped  noiselessly  a  dead  leaf  from 
the  trees  above.  There  is  nothing  much  to  tell  in  all 
this,  but  it  impressed  my  heart  with  a  feeling  of  love 
and  assurance  that  made  me  happy.  I  loved  every 
one  connected  with  me,  and  my  heart  sprang  towards 
thee. 

"  We  have  apprehended  for  some  time  that  the  system 
of  bandaging  was  not  applicable  to  Claude's  case.  A 
friend  of  ours,  whose  son  suffered  from  a  similar  accident, 
confirmed  our  opinion,  and  we  have  now  put  Claude 
under  the  great  homoeopathic  practitioner,  Dr.  Epps.  I 
hope  thou  art  not  one  of  those  who  look  on  homoeopathy 
as  quackery." 

To  ELIZABETH  BENNETT,  DAUGHTER  OF  IMM  TRUSTED,  OF  Eoss. 

"  Upper  Clapton,  Oct.  19,  1843. — Many  thanks  for 
your  kind  letter.  We  have  indeed  been  most  intensely 
anxious,  and  have  had  cause  for  deep  sorrow  in  the  case 
of  our  poor  dear  Claude. 

"  How  truly  did  we  sympathise  with  you  in  your  be- 
reavement you  will  believe,  and  had  I  known  where 
to  address  you,  should  certainly  have  expressed  it.  Let 
me  assure  you  how  great  the  pleasure  would  be,  if 
it  suited  your  convenience,  to  call  upon  us  and  renew 
the  personal  acquaintance  which  began  so  agreeably  in 


1843-48-]  AT  CLAPTON.  7 

summer  weather,  and,  as  it  were,  among  the  flowers  in 
Surrey. 

"I  take  great  interest  in  your  children,  and  shall 
always  be  glad  to  observe  how  your  system  of  educa- 
tion, which  appeared  to  us  so  excellent  and  wise,  answers 
its  end  in  developing  their  characters  and  minds.  We, 
who  cannot  *devote  so  much  time  to  ours  as  you  can, 
have  an  excellent  and  learned  young  German  as  tutor. 
We  hope,  with  the  blessing  of  Heaven,  that  it  may 
answer,  and  that  we  may  in  the  end  make  them  wise, 
good,  and  happy." 

To  ANNA  HARRISON. 

"  Sunday,  Oct.  22. — Thy  last  interested  me  deeply,  and 
awakened  in  all  our  hearts  the  deepest  sympathy.  We  are 
quite  sure  that  nothing  but  the  most  sincere  conviction 
would  have  induced  thee  to  take  so  decided  a  step  as  join- 
ing the  Church  of  England.  We  all  think  that  thou  hast 
done  quite  right ;  and  we  admire  and  love  Daniel  for  his 
kindness  and  co-operation  in  it.  I  shall  not,  of  course, 
write  anything  to  our  mother  about  thy  change  of  opinion  ; 
but  when  she  comes  to  us,  as  I  believe  she  will  shortly, 
I  shall  then  have  a  talk  with  her,  and  can  no  doubt 
make  her  quite  satisfied  with  it.  I  am  sure  that  she 
will  be  reconciled,  and  most  likely  think,  as  I  do,  that 
sincere  conviction  is  of  far  greater  worth  than  an 
educational  belief.  May  God  give  thee  peace,  as  I  do 
sincerely  believe  He  will,  in  this  step  which  thou  hast 
taken. 

"I  am  a  little  uneasy  how  we  are  to  manage  when 
dear  mother  comes,  for  it  is  our  bounden  duty  to  make 
her  visit  as  pleasant  as  we  can ;  and  I  am  afraid  that 
she  will  see  much  of  which  she  will  be  inclined  to  dis- 


8  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  i. 

approve  ;  yet  I  hope,  in  the  spirit  of  love  and  good  sense, 
she  will  bear  with  us. 

"  We  have  Eliza  back,  and  to-day  dear  little  Meggie 
has  been  with  her  to  meeting,  and  for  the  first  time. 
Charlton  and  Alfred  go  to  church  with  Herr  Mliller. 
Charlton  went  to  meeting  one  Sunday.  When  he  came 
back  he  said,  '  I  shall  always  go  to  that  meeting,  I 
like  it  so  much  ! ' — '  And  why,  Charlton  ? '  we  asked. 
'  Oh  !  because  there  is  a  dog-kennel  there.'  Poor  fellow  ! 
what  a  reason  for  going  to  meeting  !  Meggie  would  say 
she  liked  to  go  because  all  the  people  were  so  good  to 
her,  and  smiled  at  her  so  kindly !  " 

"  Oct.  29. — Our  dearest  mother  seems  troubled  rather 
by  our  making  use  of  homoeopathy  for  Claude.  She  has 
an  idea,  I  fancy,  that  it  is  in  some  way  connected  with 
the  spread  of  the  Catholic  religion.  It  is  true  that  it 
was  introduced  by  a  German,  and  he  might  be  a  Catholic, 
but  it  is  not  peculiar  to  that  body  of  people.  Dr.  Epps 
is  almost  a  Friend  in  many  of  his  opinions.  He  is  a 
most  remarkably  kind  person,  and  has  something  almost 
apostolic  in  his  manners.  We  knew  him  first  in  Not- 
tingham, after  William  had  published  his  '  History  of 
Priestcraft.' " 

"  Sunday  morning. — :Dearest  sister,  send  me,  as  thou 
sayest,  a  chronicle  of  thy  home.  Tell  me  what  thy 
children  say  and  do,  that  I  may  have  some  knowledge 
of  them.  For  myself,  do  not  I  always  write  the  most 
egotistical  letters  in  the  world  ?  Thou  must  know  my 
children  well ;  and  I  seem  always  to  extol  them,  just  as 
if  they  were  the  most  perfect  creatures  in  the  world ; 
whereas  they  are  not  so.  Anna  Mary,  however,  is  good 
beyond  words. 


1843-48.]  AT  CLAPTON.  9 

"We  are  now  more  than  ordinarily  busy.  We  have 
embarked  a  great  deal  of  money  in  our  publication  of 
the  Swedish  novels,  and  the  interference  of  the  upstart 
London  publisher,  of  which  I  have  told  you,  is  still  most 
annoying.  Mdlle.  Bremer,  however,  has  written  a  new 
novel,  and  sends  it  to  us  before  publication.  We  began 
its  translation  this  week,  and  hope,  by  beginning  to  print 
immediately,  to  be  able  to  publish  it  at  the  New  Year ; 
about  the  time  it  will  appear  in  Sweden  and  Germany. 
Thus  we  shall  have  a  great  advantage  with  a  fair  field  to 
ourselves.  We  are  writing  as  fast  as  possible,  and  with 
such  an  invalid  as  Claude  in  the  house,  every  moment  is 
taken  up. 

"  I  shall  be  able  to  send  thy  children  a  book  at  Christ- 
mas which  they  will  like,  I  hope.  It  is  'The  Child's 
Picture  and  Verse  Book,'  which  I  have  translated  from 
the  German  work  commonly  called  '  Otto  Speckter's 
Fable-Book.'  William  will  send  them  '  The  Marvellous 
History  of  Jack  of  the  Mill,'  a  story  told  to  our  chil- 
dren three  winters  ago  by  their  papa — literally  told 
night  after  night,  like  an  Arabian  tale,  and  afterwards 
written  down  for  them.  It  was  a  present  to  them  last 
Christmas  in  manuscript,  and  whatsoever  profit  it  pro- 
duces will  be  their  own  property. 

"  How  true  is  what  thou  sayest  of  the  Church  prayers  ! 
I  always  feel  it  so ;  and  because  the  Church  service  is 
so  good,  so  beautiful,  and  so  applicable  to  all  hearts  and 
all  states,  the  sermon  itself  is  of  less  consequence. 

"  I  think  this  letter  of  Emma's  will  please  and  interest 
you  all.  It  is  a  delight  to  see  how  entirely  they  seem  to 
be  in  their  right  place  in  America ;  nor  could  I,  even  for 
the  selfish  pleasure  of  near  intercourse,  wish  them  back. 
When  I  write  to  Emma  I  shall  speak  of  the  change  in 


io  MARY  HO  WITT.  [CH.  i. 

thee,  in  the  manner  in  which  we  think  it  ought  to  be 
regarded.  I  have  never  written  of  it  to  our  mother,  but 
I  have  spoken  to  her  of  my  own  views  very  freely,  and  I 
fancy  that  she  takes  it  all  now  much  more  easily.  I 
have  told  her  not  to  trouble  herself  about  the  commo- 
tions in  the  Church  of  England,  &c.,  &c. ;  and  she  has 
written  more  cheerfully  on  that  subject.  I  imagine, 
nevertheless,  dearly  beloved  sister,  that  thou  and  we 
should  differ,  not  quarrel  remember,  about  some  points. 
Thou  would  find  us  desperate  Radicals,  Corn-Law 
League,  universal- suffrage  people.  But  what  would  that 
matter  ?  We  could  agree  heartily  to  differ." 

"  Sunday  afternoon. — Poor  dear  Claude  !  It  is  one  of 
his  bad  days.  His  leg  is  painful  to  him,  and  keeps  him 
sadly  fretful  and  uneasy.  He  has  shed  many  tears,  and 
that  is  by  no  means  usual  with  him.  We  have,  how- 
ever, an  invitation  out  for  to-morrow  evening,  where 
we  can  take  him  ;  and,  poor  child  !  it  is  such  a  pleasure 
to  him  to  go  out  now  and  then  to  see  fresh  people,  and 
lie  on  a  fresh  sofa  ;  thus  I  feel  quite  obliged  to  any  one 
who  will  let  us  take  him  with  us.  This  will  do  him 
good,  will  make  him  to-morrow  forget  his  pain.  He 
has  a  great  quantity  of  books  in  his  little  carriage,  and 
we  have  a  boy  to  attend  upon  him,  who  draws  him  about 
all  day  long.  Were  he  not  my  child,  how  interested 
should  I  be  in  the  pale,  sweet-countenanced  boy  who  is 
always  reading,  let  one  meet  him  in  his  carriage  when 
one  may !  Mr.  Tegg,  the  publisher,  has  been  most  kind 
in  sending  him  books — several  pounds'  worth.  Oh,  how 
grateful  to  Mr.  Tegg  I  am  ! 

"The  book  by  William  of  which  thou  speakest  is, 
I  suppose,  'Peter  Schlemihl,'  by  Chamisso,  which  he 


1843-48.]  AT  CLAPTON.  n 

translated  for  a  publisher  at  Nuremberg.  We  will  send 
you  a  copy  with  the  other  books.  The  story  is  clever  in 
its  earlier  part,  but  will  not,  I  fancy,  greatly  please  thee 
as  a  whole.  It  is  very  popular  in  Germany,  Claude  is 
now  in  bed.  The  rest  of  the  family  are  going  to  tea. 
Later  we  shall  have  a  little  music,  and  the  Lord's  Prayer 
chanted  in  German  ;  a  piece  of  music  which  contains  the 
whole  soul  of  devotion,  and  which  makes  a  part  of  our 
Sunday  evening  pleasure.  Then  the  day  will  be  done, 
and  to-morrow  comes  thy  letter." 

"Sunday  afternoon,  Feb.  25,  1844. — I  have  very  little 
news  of  any  kind  to  send  thee,  for  I  have  hardly  been 
out  of  Claude's  room  the  whole  of  this  week.  I  will, 
however,  tell  thee  an  anecdote  of  Charlton  which  pleased 
me.  He  had  practised  very  nicely  on  the  piano,  and 
kind  Herr  Miiller  said  he  would  play  him  something 
pretty  as  a  reward.  It  was  a  little  song  about  summer, 
which  he  had  set  to  music. 

"  Charlton  listened  evidently  in  a  dream.  *  What  are 
you  thinking  of,  Charlton  ? '  asked  his  tutor.  '  I  was 
thinking,'  he  replied,  *  how  I  once  was  so  happy.  I 
should  like  to  live  that  day  over  again.  I  was  by  myself 
in  the  field ;  all  was  so  still ;  the  sun  was  shining,  the 
grasshoppers  were  jumping  in  the  grass,  and  I  was  so 
happy.  I  should  like  to  live  that  day  over  again  !  ' 
'  You  shall  live  again  many  hundreds  of  such  days/  said 
good  young  Herr  Miiller.  I  was  pleased,  dear  Anna,  for 
it  was  a  glimpse  into  the  mind  and  experience  of  a  child, 
and  I  saw  how  happy  his  life  may  be.  Many  and  many 
a  time  has  he  gone  wandering  by  himself  about  the 
field,  when  I  never  thought  how  full  of  gladness  it  was 
to  him,  but  have  said,  perhaps,  'Look  at  that  poor 


12  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  i. 

little  solitary  thing  wandering  by  himself;  do  somebody 
go  to  him.' 

"What  thou  sayest  about  Friends  tying  themselves 
so  much  down  to  drab  I  understand  perfectly.  I,  how- 
ever, have  long  ceased  to  do  that.  I  have  a  perfect  plea- 
sure in  colour,  and  indulge  myself  in  it.  For  instance, 
what  dost  thou  say  to  the  two  little  children  having  scarlet 
coats  trimmed  with  fur !  Eliza  takes  Meggie  regularly 
to  meeting  in  hers.  She  goes  to  call  on  Friends  dressed 
in  it.  I  was  greatly  amused  at  one  visit  she  made. 
There  was  a  grave  old  woman-Friend  in  the  house. 
She  seemed  charmed  with  Meggie,  who,  in  her  black 
velvet  bonnet  and  scarlet  cloak,  looked,  I  suppose,  some- 
what regal.  She  admired  and  talked  to  her,  and  said 
to  Eliza  and  the  Friend  of  the  house,  'I  should 
fancy  the  little  Princess-Royal  such  a  child  as  this.' 
Presently  it  came  out  that  she  was  William  Howitt's 
child — the  child  of  a  Friend  !  The  old  lady,  on  hearing 
this,  put  her  away  from  her,  and  said,  '  How  thou  art 
dressed !  See,  thou  hast  frightened  the  dog  out  of  the 
room  ! '  *  Art  thou  a  Friend,  too  ? '  she  said  to  Eliza, 
and  on  hearing  that  she  was,  she  turned  herself  round 
and  said  not  another  word  to  her.  But,  after  all,  Friends 
are  becoming  more  liberal  in  regard  to  colours ;  for 
instance,  many  plain  Friends  have  crimson  curtains  to 
their  dining-rooms,  and  very  handsome  carpets,  chosen 
with  good  taste." 

"  March  3,  1844. — Anna  Mary,  Alfred,  and  I  have  been 
this  morning  to  the  Unitarian  chapel,  and  have  heard 
a  sermon,  which  pleased  us  greatly,  on  religion  being 
a  thing  of  every-day  use  and  application.  Dear  William's 
prepossessions  are  all  very  strongly  in  favour  of  Friends, 


1843-48.]  AT  CLAPTON.  13 

and  he  would  like  each  of  us  to  attend  meeting ;  but 
then  he  is  obliged  to  confess  how  very  little  instructive 
or  beneficial  it  is.  He  goes  himself  now  and  then, 
and  would  go  oftener,  could  he  leave  Claude ;  and  for 
him,  who  can,  as  Friends  say,  '  centre  his  mind  down,' 
it  may  be  right,  but  for  me  it  very  rarely  is  so.  A 
Friends'  Meeting  is  only  good  for  me  when  I  am  tired, 
mind  and  body,  and  want  perfect  quietness. 

"Do  not  be  shocked,  dear  sister,  at  our  attending  a 
Unitarian  chapel ;  for  they  are  the  people,  after  all, 
with  whom  we  seem  to  have  most  unity  of  feeling  and 
opinion.  If,  however,  we  lived  in  a  village  where  there 
was  a  good  clergyman,  I  should  go  to  church.  But 
here,  where  all  are  Puseyites  and  a  proud  congregation, 
sitting  in  luxuriously  cushioned  pews,  I  should  hardly 
like,  nor  could  I  in  conscience  join  them.  I  do  not, 
by  any  means,  call  myself  a  religious  woman  in  the 
common  sense  of  the  word.  Love  and  Faith  make 
up  the  perfect  Christian.  Love  I  have,  but,  alas !  I 
want  faith.  When  I  think  of  William's  mother,  with 
her  deep  religious  feeling,  her  faith,  which  was  strong 
enough  to  remove  mountains,  how  short  do  I  see 
myself!  I  sometimes  could  almost  wish  that  I  were 
a  good  Catholic ;  for  they,  of  all  people,  have  faith  ; 
and  it  is  faith  that  gives  to  the  soul  its  strength  and 
assurance." 

"March  10,  1844. — A  week  of  great  anxiety  and 
painful  watching  almost  by  night  and  day  has  brought 
us  round  to  Sunday  again.  Poor  Claude  has  had  a  bad 
week.  Oh  Anna !  if  he  recovers,  I  shall  believe  that 
the  Almighty  has  spared  him  for  some  great  and  good 
work.  I  used  to  wish  that  Claude,  with  his  keen,  clear 


i4  MARY  HO  WITT.  [CH.  i. 

intellect,  should  be  a  lawyer.  I  now  would  wish  for  him 
to  be  a  preacher  of  the  Gospel,  to  show  forth  to  all  how 
good  and  powerful  and  rich  in  love  God  is.  But  the 
Lord's  will  be  done,  and  so  that  His  will  be  accom- 
plished in  and  for  Claude  it  will  be  right,  and  far  better 
than  we,  with  all  our  love  for  him,  could  bring  about." 

WILLIAM  HOWITT  TO  ANNA  HARRISON. 

"March  12,  1844.  —  Mary's  letters,  I  know,  have  made 
you  aware  by  what  a  frail  thread  our  dear  Claude  held 
possession  of  life.  That  slight  filament  gave  way  this 
morning.  At  twenty-five  minutes  past  eleven  o'clock 
he  breathed  his  last  most  easily  and  peacefully.  I 
think  you  never  knew  the  dear  lad,  with  his  extra- 
ordinary powers,  great  wit  and  humour,  and  of  a  loving 
disposition.  He  has  been  taken  from  us  exactly  on  the 
day  twelve  months  on  which  the  youth  who  occasioned 
his  injury  came  to  Heidelberg." 

Here  may  be  added,  that  once,  when  his  father,  in  great 
distress  of  mind,  suddenly  exclaimed  to  him,  "I  wish 
the  lad  who  dropped  you  had  to  undergo  all  this,  dear 
Claude,"  raising  his  eyes  with  an  expression  of  sorrow 
and  surprise,  he  replied,  "  Oh  papa  !  don't  say  that  ;  I 
cannot  bear  the  thought  of  it.  Please  let  my  love  be 
given  to  him,  for  I  remember  him  with  nothing  but  kind- 
ness." And  the  message  was  sent. 


"March  19,  1844.  —  My  dearest  sister,  we  are  to  myself 
a  sort  of  riddle.  We  all  feared  and  dreaded  that  the 
poor  dear  child  never  could  be  restored  to  us,  yet  we 
hoped  and  deceived  ourselves  to  the  last.  I  did  not 
realise  that  he  was  actually  going  till  within  a  few 


1843-48.]  AT  CLAPTON.  15 

hours  of  his  death.  Yet  he  had,  I  now  can  plainly  see, 
been  stricken  by  the  hand  of  Death  for  several  days. 
He  has  been  like  an  angel,  whom  we  entertained  un- 
awares. I  hope  and  trust  the  blessing  of  his  presence 
will  not  soon  depart  from  us.  It  seems  to  me  that  he 
has  fulfilled  his  mission,  which  was  to  draw  our  hearts 
upward  to  God. 

"  For  him,  dear  child,  I  can  have  no  fears.  There  was 
nothing  but  love  in  his  soul.  No  rancour,  no  bitterness. 
Oh,  what  a  consolation  it  is  to  us  now  to  remember  this  ! 
He  opened  his  heart  two  or  three  times  to  us,  and  how 
beautiful  and  consolatory  a  view  it  gave  us !  He  con- 
fessed the  little  sins  that  lay  heavy  on  his  conscience, 
and  seemed  comforted  when  we  could  assure  him  that 
the  Almighty  would  forgive  them  and  much  more. 

"  But  still,  dearest  Anna,  could  I  but  have  realised  to 
myself  the  near  approach  of  his  end,  I  would  have  had 
more  conversations  with  him  on  such  subjects,  and  I 
earnestly  hope  and  trust  that  the  sin  of  omission  may  not 
be  attributed  to  me.  He  was  ten  and  a  half,  yet  his 
mind  seemed  matured  in  these  twelve  months  of  sick- 
ness. We  shall  not  remember  him  as  the  child,  but  as 
the  friend,  the  beloved  companion  of  so  many  sorrowful 
months.  May  it  only  please  the  Almighty  that  we  may 
be  worthy  to  meet  with  him,  where  there  is  no  more 
sorrow,  no  more  suffering,  and  no  more  parting ! 

"  He  was  buried  yesterday  afternoon  in  the  Friends' 
burial-ground  at  Stoke-Newington.  Many  Friends  met 
us  at  the  grave,  and  three  ministers  spoke.  It  has  knit 
my  heart  to  Friends,  for  I  believe  they  all  sympathised 
with  us." 

"April  2,   1844. — Thy  letter,   my  dearest  sister,  was 


1 6  MARY  HO  WITT.  [CH.  i. 

indeed  like  the  voice  of  the  truest  and  sweetest  affection. 
I  have  turned  to  it  again  and  again,  and  I  feel  that, 
among  the  many  blessings  which  I  enjoy — and  I  enjoy  a 
great  many — is  that  of  having  a  sister  like  thee.  I  have 
received  several  letters  on  this  sorrowful  occasion,  w7hich 
are  precious  to  me,  and  which  I  shall  keep  among  my 
valued  things. 

"  Yes,  dearest  Anna,  I  will  believe  that  whom  '  the 
Lord  chasteneth  He  loveth.'  I  am  sure  that  there  is 
much  good  in  affliction,  and  my  present,  most  earnest 
prayer  is,  that  the  good  which  we  all  feel  in  this  sorrow 
may  not  soon  pass  away.  I  dare  not  make  covenants, 
lest  I  should  break  them,  else  I  would  covenant  with 
God  and  with  myself  to  make  this  great  grief  useful  to 
myself  and  to  others.  How  can  we  indeed  be  teachers 
of  others  in  any  way,  more  especially  in  the  best  of  all 
ways — that  of  guiding  them  heavenwards — unless  we 
have  been  baptized  in  sorrow  ?  We  cannot  see  the 
beloved  of  our  souls  taken  from  us  without  longing  to 
follow  after.  We  are  linked,  as  it  were,  to  heaven,  and 
minds  of  a  high  and  pure  character  are  permitted  also  to 
have  glimpses  into  heaven,  where  they  are ;  and  thus 
what  we  have  known  and  felt  we  can  speak  of. 

"  Do  not  suppose,  however,  dearest  sister,  that  I  am  one 
of  the  favoured  who  are  permitted  to  have  the  heavenly 
visions.  I  am  like  the  women  sitting  by  the  sepulchre, 
who  love  much  and  sit  in  their  sorrow,  for  they  know 
not  yet  that  their  Lord  is  risen.  I  cannot  tell  thee  how 
I  long,  however,  to  comfort  mourners  like  myself.  Oh, 
how  I  love  them  !  How  I  long  to  sympathise  with  them  ! 
And  I  have,  in  my  weakness,  besought  of  the  Almighty 
that  the  good  results  of  this  affliction  may  be  in  me  the 
power  to  soothe  and  to  strengthen  such  as  mourn. 


1843-48.]  AT  CLAPTON.  I? 

"  I  see  how  beautiful  is  resignation,  but  this  can  only 
be  perfected  by  faith.  May  God,  in  His  mercy,  give  it  to 
me.  '  Lord,  I  believe  ;  help  Thou  my  unbelief ! '  Such 
is  the  cry  of  my  heart,  and  happy  beyond  all  worldly 
possessions  is  it  to  dwell  in  the  light  of  faith  undoubt- 
ingly,  unquestioningly. 

"  How  true  it  is  that  in  the  midst  of  life  we  are  in 
death !  To  us  it  seems  as  if  our  dearest  Claude  was 
the  only  one  who  had  died,  as  if  death  had  only  visited 
our  house.  But  if  we  walk  out,  or  go  to  a  place  of 
worship,  or  where  many  persons  are  assembled,  we  see 
almost  every  third  person  in  mourning  like  ourselves. 
I  cannot  tell  thee  how  my  heart  warms  to  such.  Their 
hearts  have  been  wrung  like  ours.  Their  eyes  have 
wept  bitter  tears.  I  long  to  sit  down  with  them  and 
talk  to  them  of  their  dead.  It  is  so  pleasant  to  me 
to  talk  of  Claude  that  I  fancy  they  would  like  it  too. 
I  could  listen  for  hours  to  mothers  or  loving  sisters 
who  would  tell  me  of  beloved  and  long-waited-upon 
invalids.  And  oh !  dearest  sister,  I  think  if  there 
be  one  blessing  greater  than  another,  it  must  be  the 
recovery  of  such  an  invalid,  the  watching  the  beloved 
one  gaining  strength,  advancing  from  one  stage  to 
another  towards  health.  How  little  do  people  think  of 
these  things !  and  yet  they  are  among  the  best  blessings 
of  life. 

"To-morrow  I  intend  again  to  commence  my  regular 
avocations.  Poor  dear  Claude  !  at  this  very  moment  I 
see  the  unfinished  translation  lying  before  me,  which 
was  broken  off  by  his  death.  Alas !  I  could  have  shed 
burning  tears  over  this.  How  often  did  he  beg  and 
pray  of  me  to  put  aside  my  translation  just  for  that 

one  day,  that  I  might  sit  by  him  and  talk  or  read  to  him  ! 
VOL.  n.  B 


i8  MARY  HO  WITT.  [CH.  i. 

I,  never  thinking  how  near  his  end  was,  said,  '  Oh  no, 
I  must  go  on  yet  a  page  or  two.'  How  little  did  I 
think  that  in  a  short  time  I  should  have  leisure  enough 
and  to  spare  !  Oh  Anna !  of  all  the  agonising  feelings 
which  I  know,  none  is  so  bitter  as  that  longing  for 
the  dead.  Just  one  day,  one  hour  of  their  life,  that 
one  might  pour  out  the  whole  soul  of  one's  inextinguish- 
able love  before  them,  and  let  them  feel  how  dear,  in- 
expressibly dear,  they  are.  My  very  heart  at  times  dies 
within  me  from  this  deep  and  agonising  longing.  But, 
dearest,  when  we  have  angels  in  heaven,  does  not  death 
seem  robbed  of  its  terrors  ? 

"  I  wonder  how  it  is  with  families  in  heaven,  for  there 
must  be  different  degrees  of  worthiness  in  the  different 
members.  Some  must  have  lower  places  than  others. 
I  would  be  content  to  sit  on  the  lowest  footstool  might 
I  only  be  permitted  to  behold  the  glory  and  the  bliss  of 
my  beloved  ones,  and  to  make  compensation  to  them  in 
some  way  for  my  shortcomings  on  earth." 

"April  17,  1844. — The  Friends  have  been  most  kind 
to  us.  They  permitted  us  to  choose  the  spot  where 
dear  Claude  should  lie.  They  did  not  even  wish  him 
to  be  buried  among  the  children,  and  they  will  allow 
us  to  plant  shrubs  and  flowers  on  his  grave.  He  lies 
near  Charles  Lloyd,  the  poet,  on  whose  grave  some 
friend  has  planted  a  cypress.  It  is  no  use  telling  one 
that  the  resting-place  matters  nothing  to  the  dead. 
That  is  true,  but  it  does  matter  to  the  living.  Jesus 
wept  at  the  grave  of  Lazarus.  The  women  wept  at 
the  tomb  of  Jesus,  and  hearts  that  love  truly  and  sorrow 
deeply  want  the  same  indulgence.  I  am  sure  that  it 
is  pleasing  to  God  that  they  should  have  it.  I  do  not 


1843-48.]  AT  CLAPTON.  19 

see  exactly  how  Friends'  minds  can  be  operated  upon, 
but  I  am  sure  that  if  this  question  could  be  fully  dis- 
cussed, very  many  among  them  would  feel  the  same." 

"  June  1 6,  1844. — Only  a  very  few  words  to-day,  my 
dearest  sister,  and  all  because  I  am  working  hard  to  be 
at  liberty  to  make  my  long-talked-of  journey.  I  set 
myself  last  week  to  finish  my  story,  and  by  great  industry 
I  am  happy  to  say  I  did,  having  been  three  weeks  over 
it.  I  have  laid  the  scene  of  it  at  Uttoxeter,  so  if  it  is 
read  there,  the  little  town  will  wonder  at  my  impudence" 

The  story  to  which  I  thus  refer  was  called  "  The  Two 
Apprentices,"  and  belonged  to  a  series  of  tales  which 
I  had  been  writing,  at  various  intervals,  for  several  years. 
A  simple,  somewhat  affecting  little  story,  called  "A 
Night-Scene  in  a  Poor  Man's  House,"  having  appeared 
in  my  friend  Mrs.  Alaric  Watts's  "Juvenile  Souvenir" 
at  Christmas  1838,  it  was  read  by  the  publisher,  Mr. 
Tegg,  of  Cheapside.  He  immediately  wrote  and  pro- 
posed that  I  should  furnish  him  with  a  series  of  books 
to  illustrate  household  virtues.  He  wished  the  number  to 
be  thirteen — a  baker's  dozen,  as  he  said.  My  husband, 
the  best  literary  friend  and  critic  that  I  ever  had,  induced 
me  to  agree ;  and  Mr.  Tegg,  a  very  peculiar  man,  who, 
from  arriving  in  London  a  poor  Scotch  lad  with  a  few 
halfpence  in  his  pocket,  had  now,  by  his  quick  wit  and 
industry,  amassed  a  fortune,  behaved  through  the  whole 
transaction  in  the  most  straightforward,  satisfactory 
manner.  He  punctually  paid  for  each  MS.  as  he 
received  it,  never  advertised  the  works,  and  yet  one 
edition  succeeded  the  other ;  this  large,  silent  sale  being 
perhaps  accounted  for  by  his  extensive  connection  with 


20  MARY  HO  WITT.  [OH.  i. 

the  Colonies.  The  first  of  this  series,  which  appeared 
under  the  general  title  of  "  Tales  for  the  People  and  their 
Children,"  was  called  "  Strive  and  Thrive,"  and  was 
followed  by  "  Hope  On,  Hope  Ever."  From  my  earliest 
childhood  I  possessed  a  most  keen  sympathy,  together 
with  a  deep  interest,  in  lives  and  experiences  different 
from  my  own,  and  which  often  caused  my  parents  to 
censure  my  inquisitiveness.  Yet  this  did  not  check  the 
promptings  of  my  heart,  and  my  retentive  memory  thus 
acquired  a  store  of  incidents  chiefly  connected  with  poor 
people,  their  small  joys  and  great  sufferings. 

In  my  married  life  at  Nottingham,  Alice  Cheetham,  a 
monthly  nurse,  had  become,  by  her  goodness  and  general 
efficiency,  an  established  friend  of  the  family.  She  was 
always  a  pleasant  figure  in  the  house,  wearing  nice,  old- 
fashioned  dresses,  and  possessing  the  tidiest,  daintiest 
ways.  On  one  occasion  she  stayed  with  me  at  Uttox- 
eter.  It  was  no  case  of  serious  illness,  and  these  few 
weeks  in  the  real  country  were  a  delight  to  her.  I  had 
much  earlier  learnt  her  life's  history,  and  sympathised 
with  her.  I  knew  the  fates  of  her  various  children,  and 
especially  her  sorrow  about  her  wild  son,  Samuel,  who 
had  almost  broken  his  mother's  heart  many  years  before 
by  enlisting  as  a  soldier.  Where  he  was  she  knew  not ; 
he  had  been  in  India,  he  might  now  be  dead.  It  was  a 
terrible  grief,  of  which  she  seldom  spoke. 

However,  here  she  was  now,  very  happy  for  the  time 
being,  in  the  remote  country  town  of  Uttoxeter,  which 
had  been  exempted  by  the  Duke  of  Cumberland,  when 
on  his  way  to  Culloden,  from  ever  henceforth  having 
soldiers  quartered  in  it.  One  night  they  might  remain, 
but  no  longer.  Therefore,  Uttoxeter  would  be  every 
now  and  then  put  into  a  state  of  excitement  by  the 


1843-48.]  AT  CLAPTON.  21 

marching  in  of  one  or  two  regiments,  with  their  heavy 
waggons  piled  up  with  baggage,  soldiers'  wives  and 
children.  The  men  were  billeted  for  the  night  at  the 
various  public-houses.  The  baggage-waggons  remained 
in  the  market-place.  Should  it,  however,  be  a  market- 
day,  they  were  brought  into  our  street,  which,  opposite 
to  our  house,  was  the  widest  in  the  town.  Thus  all 
the  stir,  bustle,  and  interest  of  that  strange  family  life 
of  common  soldiery  would  be  in  part  revealed  to  us 
children.  I  watched  each  detail  with  intense  interest, 
and  had  no  unfrequent  opportunity  of  doing  so,  during 
the  terrible  years  of  the  Napoleonic  war. 

An  incident  of  this  kind,  with  the  events  that  might 
easily  accrue,  is  introduced  in  my  little  story  of  ''The 
Two  Apprentices."  Now,  however,  it  is  simply  what 
befell  my  poor  friend,  Nurse  Cheetham,  that  I  wish 
to  narrate.  The  weather  was  fine,  and  as  I  did  not 
require  her  attendance,  I  desired  her  to  take  a  walk. 
In  so  doing  she  met  the  soldiers  of  a  regiment  from 
Ireland,  who  were  dispersing  to  their  night-quarters; 
and  amongst  them,  came  upon  her  own  son,  the  long- 
lost,  long-lamented  Samuel.  Although  he  had  been 
absent  for  years,  mother  and  son  both  recognised  each 
other  in  the  street.  Her  intense  joy  may  be  imagined. 
For  the  moment  every  desire  of  her  heart  was  satisfied. 
He  was  a  fine-looking  fellow,  in  good  health,  who,  lazy 
or  thoughtless,  had  let  the  years  roll  on  without  writing. 
Of  course,  she  was  up  at  four  the  next  morning,  once 
more  to  see  her  boy,  to  give  him  a  parting  kiss  and 
blessing,  and,  doubtless,  all  the  money  she  had.  It 
was  one  little  ray  of  light  and  love,  which  made  that 
poor  faithful  mother  so  unspeakably  happy.  I  had 
my  pleasure  in  it  also.  She  never  heard  from  him, 


22  MARY  HO  WITT.  [CH.  i. 

much  less  saw  him  again,  at  least   not  while  we  were 
at  Nottingham. 

Here    I    may   mention,    in    connection   with    literary 
engagements,  that  I  edited,  in  1839  and  the  two  follow- 
ing years,  "  The  Drawing-Room  Scrap-Book,"  published 
annually  by  the  Messrs.  Fisher.     I  was  not  proud  of  the 
work.     It  had  been  carried  on  for  some  years  by  L.  E.  L., 
until  her  marriage  with  Mr.  Maclean  in    1838,   and  I 
was   her   successor.     The  agreement  was  personally  to 
furnish  poems  to  the  engravings  chosen  by  the  publishers. 
The  payment  was  ^100  per  annum,  and  in  that  period 
of  mental   activity  I    could    often  write  a   poem   in   a 
day.     Some   of  my  pieces  were  English  renderings    of 
German  poetry  by  Freiligrath   and   Clemens  Brentano. 
Heine's  exquisite  lines  on  a  mother  taking  her  sick  son 
to  be  cured  by  the  Virgin  Mary  at  the  holy  shrine  of 
Kevlaar  I  translated  in  1841.     My  successor  was  Miss 
Sarah  Stickney,  originally  a  Friend,  who  especially  devoted 
her  pen  to  the  enunciation  of  moral  truths,  addressed 
principally   to    her    own    sex.      She    married   the   Rev. 
William  Ellis,  also   an  author,  who  had  been   a  Non- 
conformist missionary  to   the  Sandwich  and  South    Sea 
Islands.     They  carried  on  a    successful  girls'  school   at 
Hoddesdon,  in  which  they  sought  to  combine  scholastic 
and  domestic  teaching,  the  boarders  taking  it  in  turn 
to  assist  in  cooking,  &c. 

We  had  not  long  been  at  Heidelberg,  when  a  new 
realm  of  mental  wealth  unexpectedly  opened  to  my 
husband  and  me.  Our  excellent  and  highly-accom- 
plished friend,  Madame  von  Schoultz,  had  derived  much 
alleviation  from  the  study  of  Scandinavian  authors  in 
a  time  of  terrible  suspense,  caused  by  the  mysterious 
disappearance  of  her  Swedish  husband,  who,  it  was 


1843-48-]  AT  CLAPTON.  23 

subsequently  discovered,  lost  his  life  'in  the  Papineau 
rebellion  in  Canada.  With  her  we  commenced  Swedish, 
a  delightful  employment,  which  might  be  called  a  relaxa- 
tion rather  than  a  labour,  for  here  were  no  puzzling 
terminations  as  in  German,  but  a  similarity  of  con- 
struction with  the  English,  which  made  it  and  its 
cognate  Danish  of  comparatively  easy  acquisition. 

Fredrika  Bremer's  novels  of  Swedish  family  life  de- 
lighted us  by  their  originality,  freshness,  and  delicate 
humour,  and  we  determined  to  introduce  them  to  the 
English  reading  public.  My  husband  and  I  translated 
"  The  Neighbours  "  and  "  The  Home  "  from  the  German 
versions,  but  in  the  new  editions  which  speedily  followed 
we  compared  and  revised  them  with  the  Swedish.  In 
England  and  America  they  immediately  met  with  wide 
recognition,  although,  when  we  first  translated  "The 
Neighbours,"  there  was  not  a  house  in  London  that 
would  undertake  its  publication.  We  printed  and  pub- 
lished it  and  others  of  the  Bremer  novels  at  our  own 
risk,  when  such  became  the  rage  for  them,  that  our 
translations  were  seized  by  a  publisher,  altered,  and 
reissued  as  new  ones.  The  men  in  our  printer's  office 
were  bribed  from  America,  and  in  one  instance  the 
pirated  sheets  appeared  before  those  we  ourselves  sent 
over.  Cheap  editions  ran  like  wildfire  through  the 
United  States,  and  the  boys  who  hawked  them  in  the 
streets  might  be  seen  deep  in  "The  Neighbours,"  "The 
Home,"  and  "  The  H-  -  Family." 

The  first  of  very  many  letters  which  I  received  from 
Fredrika  Bremer  expresses  her  pleasure  at  the  English 
publication  of  "The  Neighbours,"  and  is  dated  Stock- 
holm, February  21,  1843.  She  speaks  modestly  in  it 
of  her  productions,  and  is  surprised  that  her  common- 


24  MARY  HO  WITT.  [CH.  i. 

place  delineations  of  every-day  life  should  suit  the  fas- 
tidious taste  of  England.  Nevertheless,  she  hopes  still 
to  write  more  worthily  of  the  life  in  her  native  land, 
saying  in  conclusion,  "  Sweden  is  a  poor  but  noble 
country,  England  is  a  rich  and  glorious  one  ;  in  spirit 
they  are  sisters,  and  should  know  each  other  as  such. 
Let  us,  dear  Mrs.  Howitt,  contribute  to  that  end." 

To  the  best  of  my  ability  I  united  with  her  in  so 
doing. 

The  far-famed  ciiion-souffte  of  the  estimable  Louise 
in  Mdlle.  Bremer's  novel,  "  The  Home,"  also  procured 
for  me  a  most  agreeable  and  lasting  friendship  with  an 
estimable  gentlewoman,  Miss  Eliza  Acton.  In  perusing 
"  The  Home,"  the  souffle  had  not  escaped  her  observa- 
tion, and  she  was  anxious  to  obtain  the  exact  receipt 
from  Mdlle.  Bremer  for  the  second  edition  of  "  Modern 
Cookery."  She  was  also  desirous  of  information  about 
"  sweet-groats "  and  other  preparations  of  grain  men- 
tioned in  "The  Neighbours"  as  forming  part  of  the 
national  food  of  Sweden ;  for  she  was  much  troubled  by 
the  culinary  inaptitude  of  the  English  people.  She  had 
found  that  amongst  the  lower  classes  not  one  in  ten 
could  even  make  a  loaf  or  boil  a  potato  as  it  should  be. 

In  the  summer  of  1844  I  had  the  delight  of  visiting 
my  beloved  sister,  Anna  Harrison,  and  her  family.  At 
the  end  of  July  I  was  taken  a  charming  little  trip  of 
five  days  from  Liverpool  to  Llanberis  and  back  by  my 
brother-in-law,  Daniel,  in  the  company  of  Anna,  their 
eldest  son,  Charles,  their  uncle,  Richard  Thompson,  who 
was  a  most  delightful  old  Methodist,  and  Mary  Harris, 
an  agreeable  young  woman-Friend  of  independent  means. 
We  had  a  rough  but  amusing  voyage  to  the  Menai 
Bridge,  where  there  was  an  excellent  inn.  Telford's 


1843-48.]  AT  CLAPTON.  25 

marvellous  erection  did  not  then  pair  with  the  Britannia 
tubular  bridge,  but  uniquely  spanned  the  strait  in  airy 
sublimity.  We  walked  to  it,  viewed  it  on  all  sides, 
and  knew  not  how  sufficiently  to  admire.  We  ascended 
a  hill  to  obtain  a  peep  at  the  mountains,  and  how 
lovely  they  looked,  lying  calmly  and  magnificently  in 
the  repose  of  the  late  evening,  with  Snowdon  in  their 
midst !  Enraptured  by  the  view,  and  the  thought  that 
I  was  actually  in  the  land  which  had  been  the  object 
of  my  childish  desires  and  fancies,  I  kept  silently  repeat- 
ing what  my  parents  had  often  said  when  I  was  young : 
"We  really  will,  some  time  or  other,  take  a  cottage  in 
Wales,  and  spend  a  few  summer  months  there." 

On  leaving  my  kind  relatives  at  Liverpool,  I  went, 
accompanied  by  my  dear  niece,  Margaret  Ann  Harrison, 
to  see  my  mother  at  Uttoxeter;  and  both  accepting  an 
invitation  to  Clapton,  journeyed  with  me  to  London. 

On  September  8,  1844,  I  Sa7»  writing  to  my  sister 
Anna : — 

"  I  am  sure  thou  wilt  be  glad  to  know  that  at  length 
the  troublesome  duty  of  house-hunting  is  over.  We  have 
taken  a  house  a  short  distance  from  the  one  where  we 
now  live.  It  is  almost  strange  that,  after  seeking  all 
round  London,  we  come  back  at  last  to  our  own  neigh- 
bourhood. 

"  I  shall  be  very  sorry  to  leave  The  Grange,  notwith- 
standing its  disadvantages  ;  for  it  is  endeared  to  me  from 
many  causes.  Poor  Claude  liked  it  so  much.  It  was  his 
only  home  in  England  after  our  return ;  and  the  whole 
house  and  garden  are  full  of  memories  and  traces  of  him. 
The  tracks  of  his  carriage-wheels  are  still  on  the  garden- 
walks.  There  is  L,  shady  path,  which  he  called,  'The 
Vault,'  where  he  liked  to  be  drawn  in  the  heat,  and  an 


26  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  i. 

apple-tree  that  seemed  especially  his  own.  It  is  foolish, 
but  I  feel  as  if  he  would  still  think  of  us  as  living  here. 
I  am  glad  that  we  do  not  leave  the  neighbourhood,  for 
my  heart  is  drawn  towards  the  spot  where  he  lies.  His 
memory  is  one  of  the  sacred  and  precious  things,  over 
which  is  a  halo  of  love.  Thank  God  for  a  hope  of  re- 
union with  the  dead." 

The  house  which  we  had  taken  was  one  of  a  couple 
of  well-built,  substantially  finished  residences  of  the  last 
century,  situated  in  Lower  Clapton,  and  called  "  The 
Elms,"  from  the  row  of  noble  old  elm-trees  in  their  front. 
It  contained  ample  wainscoted  chambers  and  a  broad  stair- 
case of  polished  oak,  leading  to  spacious  reception-rooms. 
The  windows  at  the  back  looked  into  the  pleasant  garden, 
with  its  creeper-festooned  walls,  long  lawn,  and  flowering 
shrubs ;  and  beyond  to  quiet  meadows,  through  which 
flowed  the  river  Lea,  to  vast  marshes  and  the  woodland 
line  of  Epping  Forest. 

We  had  for  our  next-door  neighbours,  and  thence  for 
life-long  friends,  Mr.  Henry  Bateman  and  his  family.  He 
was  the  brother-in-law  of  the  Rev.  Thomas  Binney ;  on 
the  Committee  of  the  Religious  Tract  Society,  and  de- 
servedly esteemed  in  Nonconformist  circles  for  his  active 
benevolence,  promotion  of  religious  freedom,  calm,  out- 
spoken denunciation  of  evil,  unflinching  adherence  to 
duty,  and  faithful  trust  in  God  under  all  circumstances. 

The  earlier  portion  of  our  residence  at  The  Elms  was 
very  pleasant.  I  recall  it  with  a  tender  regret  as  worthy 
and  befitting  in  every  way.  The  house  was  commodious, 
the  children  well  cared  for  and  happy.  Their  chief  dnd 
favourite  companions  were  Arthur  Bateman,  the  children 
of  my  beloved  widowed  friend,  Mrs.  Todhunter,  and 


1843-48.] 


AT  CLAPTON. 


27 


the  five  little  granddaughters  of  Dr.  Southwood  Smith. 
Octavia  Hill,  the  third  of  these  sisters,  often  stayed  with 
Charlton  and  Meggie.  She  was  their  chosen  playmate 
and  counsellor,  and  devised,  even  in  their  games,  schemes 
for  improving  and  brightening  the  lot  of  the  poor  and 
the  oppressed. 

The    retiring    and    meditative     young    poet,    Alfred  / 


THE  ELMS,  LOWEK  CLAPTON. 


Tennyson,  visited  us,  and  charmed  our  seclusion  by  the  l 
recitation  of  his  exquisite  poetry.  He  spent  a  Sunday 
night  at  our  house,  when  we  sat  talking  together  until 
three  in  the  morning.  All  the  next  day  he  remained 
with  us  in  constant  converse.  We  seemed  to  have 
known  him  for  years.  So,  in  fact,  we  had,  for  his  poetry 
was  himself.  He  hailed  all  attempts  at  heralding  a 
grand,  more  liberal  state  of  public  opinion,  and  con- 


28  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  i. 

sequently  sweeter,  .more  noble  modes  of  living.  He 
wished  that  we  Englanders  could  dress  up  our  affections 
in  a  little  more  poetical  costume  ;  real  warmth  of  heart 
would  lose  nothing,  rather  gain  by  it ;  as  it  was,  our 
manners  were  as  cold  as  the  walls  of  our  churches. 

Pastor  Carlson,  the  agreeable  and  intelligent  minister 
of  the  Swedish  church,  frequently  came  to  us.  On  a 
delightful  summer  afternoon,  he  brought  with  him  Fahl- 
crantz,  Professor  of  Theology  at  Upsala,  the  Sydney 
Smith  of  Sweden.  He  possessed  a  marvellous  play  on 
words,  which  is  more  difficult  in  Swedish  than  in  fuller, 
richer  languages.  We  sat  on  the  lawn  in  the  most 
cheerful  good-fellowship. 

Here  too  the  Catholic  priest,  Dr.  Willson,  whom 
my  husband  had  learnt  deservedly  to  respect  in  Not- 
tingham, came  to  see  us.  He  had  just  been  made  first 
Catholic  Bishop  of  Tasmania,  and  was  on  his  way  to  the 
colony,  where  he  so  greatly  ameliorated  the  condition  of 
convicts. 

My  husband,  on  the  announcement  of  his  intended 
"  Visits  to  Remarkable  Places,"  received,  in  1838,  a  letter 
from  Manchester,  signed  E.  C.  Gaskell,  drawing  his 
attention  to  a  fine  old  seat,  Clopton  Hall,  near  Stratford- 
on-Avon.  It  described  in  so  powerful  and  graphic  a 
manner  the  writer's  visit  as  a  schoolgirl  to  the  mansion 
and  its  inmates,  that,  in  replying,  he  urged  his  correspon- 
dent to  use  her  pen  for  the  public  benefit.  This  led  to 
the  production  of  the  beautiful  story  of  "  Mary  Barton," 
the  first  volume  of  which  was  sent  in  MS.  to  my  hus- 
band, stating  this  to  be  the  result  of  his  advice.  We 
were  both  delighted  with  it,  and .  a  few  months  later 
Mrs.  Gaskell  came  up  to  London,  and  to  our  house,  with 
the  work  completed.  Everybody  knows  how  rapturously 


1843-48.]  AT  CLAPTON.  29 

it  was  received  ;  and  from  that  time  she  became  one  of 
the  favourite  writers  of  fiction. 

My  husband  had  translated  a  curious  little  book  from 
the  third  German  edition,  the  real  "  Wanderings  of  a 
Journeyman  Tailor;"  P.  D.  Holthaus,  who  had  trudged 
through  Europe  and  a  part  of  Asia  Minor,  supporting 
himself  by  his  needle  in  Constantinople,  Eome,  and 
elsewhere.  It  appeared  in  1844.  In  1845  he  was  busily 
engaged  on  his  "  Homes  and  Haunts  of  the  Poets."  I 
wrote  "The  Author's  Daughter"  for  "The  Edinburgh 
Tales,"  and  in  1846  collected  my  ballads,  chiefly  written 
some  ten  or  fifteen  years  earlier,  my  miscellaneous  poems, 
and  four  poetical  translations.  These  were  published  in 
one  volume  in  1847. 

I  had  also  turned  my  attention  to  Danish  literature, 
which  my  knowledge  of  the  Swedish  and  German  lan- 
guages made  me  easily  understand.  H.  C.  Andersen's 
"  Improvisatore "  I  first  translated  from  the  German 
version,  but  after  mastering  Danish  I  made  my  work, 
as  far  as  possible,  identical  with  the  original.  It  appeared 
at  the  beginning  of  1845,  and  gave  great  pleasure  and 
satisfaction  to  the  author,  who  felt  himself  gracefully 
and  faithfully  reproduced  in  English.  He  begged  me 
to  continue  translating  his  works  ;  he  longed  to  be  known 
and  to  be  loved  in  England,  as  he  was  on  the  Continent, 
where,  from  the  prince  to  the  peasant,  all  were  so  good 
to  him ;  appreciation,  fame,  joy,  followed  his  footsteps. 
His  whole  life  was,  in  consequence,  a  beautiful  fairy-tale, 
full  of  sunshine.  It  was  in  this  strain  that  he  wrote  to 
me  from  Denmark  and  Germany.  I  translated  his  "  Only 
a  Fiddler,"  "  O.  T.,  or  Life  in  Denmark,"  "The  Constant 
Tin  Soldier,"  and  other  of  his  "  Wonderful  Stories,"  his 
"  Picture-book  without  Pictures  "  and  "  A  True  Story  of 


3o  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  i. 

my  Life."  The  "  Improvisatore  "  was  the  only  one  that 
went  into  a  second  edition ;  the  other  books  did  not  pay 
the  cost  of  printing.  Nevertheless,  Andersen,  having  been 
assured  in  Germany  and  Denmark  that  my  husband  and 
I  had  made  a  fortune  out  of  his  translations,  came  him- 
self to  London  in  the  summer  of  1847,  to  make  an  ad- 
vantageous monetary  arrangement  with  us.  He  felt,  he 
wrote  me,  that  I  had  always  acted  as  a  sister  to  him,  and 
was  deeply  grateful  to  me ;  and  as  he  could  not  bear 
the  thought  of  our  discussing  money  together,  Herr 
Hambro,  his  banker  and  countryman,  would  do  so  in  his 
stead.  My  husband  saw  Herr  Hambro  several  times  on 
the  subject,  and  from  him  heard  of  the  exaggerated 
ideas  that  Andersen  had  of  our  gains.  The  worthy 
banker  undeceived  his  friend,  and  although  disappointed 
of  his  hope,  Andersen  wrote  to  me  on  August  28,  1847, 
the  day  before  he  left  England,  begging  me  to  translate 
the  whole  of  his  fairy-tales.  His  Leipzig  bookseller  had 
brought  out  a  German  edition,  beautifully  illustrated, 
and  the  woodcuts  could  be  procured  for  a  small  ac- 
knowledgment. I  was  then  deeply  engrossed  in  other 
literary  work,  and  foolishly,  it  now  seems  to  me,  let 
the  proposal  drop.  Unfortunately,  the  over-sensitive  and 
egotistical  nature  of  this  great  Danish  author  much 
marred  our  intercourse. 

I  may  give,  as  an  example,  an  incident  that  occurred 
on  July  31,  1847.  We  had  taken  him,  as  a  pleasant 
rural  experience,  to  the  annual  hay-making  at  Hillside, 
Highgate,  thus  introducing  him  to  an  English  home, 
full  of  poetry  and  art,  of  sincerity  and  affection.  The 
ladies  of  Hillside,  the  Misses  Mary  and  Margaret  Gillies 
— the  one  an  embodiment  of  peace  and  an  admirable 
writer,  but  whose  talent,  like  the  violet,  kept  in  the 


1843-48.]  AT  CLAPTON.  3z 

shade ;  the  other,  the  warm-hearted  painter — made  him 
cordially  welcome.  So,  too,  our  kind  and  benevolent 
host,  Dr.  Southwood  Smith,  who  was  surrounded  at  this 
merry-making  by  his  grandchildren,  Gertrude  Hill  and 
her  sisters.  The  guests  likewise  were  equally  anxious 
to  do  honour  to  Andersen. 

Immediately  after  our  arrival,  the  assembled  chil- 
dren, loving  his  delightful  fairy-tales,  clustered  round 
him  in  the  hay-field,  watched  him  make  them  a  pretty 
device  of  flowers ;  then  feeling  somehow  that  the  stiff 
and  silent  foreigner  was  not  kindred  to  themselves, 
stole  off  to  an  American,  Henry  Clarke  Wright,  whose 
admirable  little  book,  "A  Kiss  for  a  Blow,"  some  of 
them  knew.  He,  without  any  suggestion  of  conde- 
scension or  of  difference  of  age,  entered  heart  and  soul 
into  their  glee,  laughed,  shouted,  and  played  with  them, 
thus  unconsciously  evincing  the  gift  which  had  made 
him  earlier  the  exclusive  pastor  of  six  hundred  children 
in  Boston. 

Soon  poor  Andersen,  perceiving  himself  forsaken, 
complained  of  headache,  and  insisted  on  going  indoors, 
where  Miss  Mary  Gillies  and  I,  both  most  anxious  to 
efface  any  disagreeable  impression,  accompanied  him ; 
but  he  remained  irritable  and  out  of  sorts. 

Some  passages  in  my  letters  may  now  deserve  atten- 
tion. To  my  sister  I  write  in  December  1 844  :— 

"  Yesterday  Richard  Howitt  was  here.  There  is 
something  so  quiet,  patient,  and  melancholy  about  him, 
as  quite  touched  my  heart.  Anna  Mary's  affection  for 
him  is  perfect  devotion ;  as  a  little  child  she  loved  him, 
and  he  is  happy  in  her  love." 

In  July  of  1845  I  tell  my  sister : — 


32  MARY  HO  WITT.  [CH.  i. 

"  William  has  now  been  from  home  a  week.  We 
are  too  busy  to  miss  him  much ;  and  his  pleasant  letters 
are  a  most  agreeable  diversion  to  our  solitude.  His 
last  have  been  from  Sheffield.  He  has  been  with 
James  Montgomery  and  Ebenezer  Elliott,  and  has  ob- 
tained from  them  information  which  will  make  his 
'  Homes  and  Haunts  of  the  Poets  '  extremely  interest- 
ing. He  is  to-day  at  Newcastle-on-Tyne ;  from  there 
he  goes  into  Cumberland,  and  will  visit  Wordsworth." 

To  Miss  MARGARET  GILLIES. 

"  All  the  time  William  was  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
Bydal  it  poured  with  rain.  He  was  one  whole  day 
a  prisoner  with  the  Wordsworths ;  but  the  day  was 
pleasant  indoors. 

"  He  says  both  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Wordsworth  are  toler- 
ably well ;  and  dear  Mrs.  Wordsworth  sat  mending 
her  shoe,  while  the  room  was  full  of  strangers,  who 
had  called  to  honour  the  poet.  There  was,  among  others, 
an  American  general  there,  an  advocate  of  slavery, 
with  whom  William  and  Mr.  Wordsworth  had  a  great 
argument.  All  the  day  afterwards  Wordsworth  kept 
rejoicing  that  they  had  defeated  the  general.  'To  think 
of  the  man,'  said  he,  '  coming,  of  all  things,  to  this  house 
with  a  defence  of  slavery !  But  he  got  nothing  by  it. 
Mr.  Howitt  and  I  gave  it  to  him  pretty  well.'  The 
Latrobes,  I  think  from  Africa,  were  there  to  dinner. 
In  the  evening  the  Bishop  of  Salisbury  was  expected, 
but  he  did  not  come.  Some  Friends  came,  'however, 
and  it  seems  to  have  been  a  right  pleasant  time. 

"  Poor  Dora  had  gone  to  Portugal.  She  was  in  a  very 
sad  state  of  health.  Her  husband's  brother  was  there ; 
and  they  thought  that  a  voyage  out  and  a  stay  of  some 


1843-48.]  AT  CLAPTON. 


33 


time  might  be  of  essential  benefit  to  her.  On  the  con- 
trary, she  had  been  taken  with  a  very  serious  illness, 
and  they  had  been  much  alarmed.  This  is  very  melan- 
choly. They  talked  in  the  very  kindest  manner  of  Miss 
Gillies.  This  last  bit  is  what  I  wanted  most  to  com- 
municate to  you.  They  who  love  us  truly  will  not  lightly 
change." 

Letter  to  my  sister,  written  in  1845,  but  without  a 
date  : — 

"  I  seem  to  have  done  very  little  this  year.  I  have 
translated  nothing,  written  nothing  of  any  length,  yet  I 
never  in  my  life  felt  so  completely  occupied.  Sometimes, 
indeed,  I  have  been  so  sick  of  writing  and  of  the  sight  of 
papers  and  books  that  I  have  had  quite  a  loathing  to 
them.  But  these  are  unhappy  times  always  to  me,  and 
only  arise  from  over-weariness ;  my  delight  is  working. 
I  thank  a  good  Providence,  Who  has  enabled  me  to  do  a 
little,  I  hope,  towards  diffusing  sentiments  of  love  and 
kindness. 

"  I  am  just  now  deeply  interested  in  the  Anti-Slavery 
question,  the  real,  thorough  Abolitionist  view,  which 
would  cut  up  this  crying  sin  root  and  branch,  and 
spare  none  of  its  participators.  Our  friend,  William 
Lloyd  Garrison,  is  now  in  London,  with  one  of  the  most 
interesting  men  I  ever  saw,  a  runaway  slave,  Frederick 
Douglass.  The  narrative  of  his  life,  written  by  himself, 
is  most  beautiful  and  affecting.  William  met  with  him 
first  in  Dublin,  and  now  that  he  is  in  London,  we  have 
seen  a  good  deal  of  him.  I  wish  I  could  lend  you  some 
of  the  very  interesting  and  heart-rending  Anti-Slavery 
books  that  have  been  siven  to  us,  and  which  have  so 

O  ' 

wholly  absorbed  my  thoughts,  that  now,  like    many  a 
VOL.  ii.  c 


34  MARY  HO  WITT.  [CH.  i. 

good  old  Friend,  I  can  talk  of  nothing  but   '  the  dear 
Blacks.' 

"  Ferdinand  Freiligrath,  the  German  poet  and  our  dear 
friend,  has  been  now  for  some  time  an  exile  from  his 
country,  on  account  of  what  we  English  should  call  very 
innocent  writings,  but  what  the  Germans  term  seditious. 
He  is  a  fine  poet  and  a  noble,  good  man.  We  have 
induced  him  to  come  to  England  and  try  his  fortunes 
here  in  this  land  of  commerce.  He  was  brought  up  a 
merchant,  understands  many  foreign  languages,  and  is 
thus  a  most  desirable  person  in  a  counting-house.  He 
came  here  rather  more  than  a  fortnight  ago,  and  was  with 
us  two  weeks.  On  Saturday  he  went  to  Rotterdam  to 
meet  his  wife  and  child.  Now  I  am  expecting  them  to 
arrive  any  moment.  We  shall  thus  have  for  the  present 
our  house  very  full.  We  wish  extremely  for  him  to 
settle  in  London,  because  we  like  him  and  his  wife  so 
much,  that  it  is  a  pleasure  to  have  some  of  their  society. 
If  London  fails  us,  we  must  try  elsewhere." 

"  Nov.  1845  (after  a  visit  to  the  seaside], — Thou 
inquires,  dear  sister,  who  our  friends  the  Smiths  are, 
who  contributed  so  much  to  make  our  Hastings  sojourn 
agreeable.  The  father  is  the  Member  for  Norwich,  a 
good  Radical  and  partisan  of  Free  Trade  and  the  aboli- 
tion of  the  Corn-Laws.  Objecting  to  schools,  he  keeps 
his  children  at  home,  and  their  knowledge  is  gained 
by  reading.  They  have  masters,  it  is  true,  but  then 
the  young  people  are  left  very  much  to  pursue  their 
own  course  of  study.  The  result  is  good ;  and  as  to 
affection  and  amiability,  I  never  saw  more  beautiful  evi- 
dences of  it.  There  are  five  children,  the  eldest  about 
twenty-two,  the  youngest  eleven.  They  have  carriages 


1843-48-]  AT  CLAPTON.  35 

and  horses  at  their  command ;  and  their  buoyant  frames 
and  bright,  clear  complexions  show  how  sound  is  their 
health. 

"  Every  year  their  father  takes  them  out  a  journey. 
He  has  had  a  large  carriage  built  like  an  omnibus,  in 
which  they  and  their  servants  can  travel,  and  in  it,  with 
four  horses,  they  make  long  journeys.  This  year  they 
were  in  Ireland,  and  next  year  I  expect  they  will  go 
into  Italy.  Their  father  dotes  on  them.  They  take 
with  them  books  and  sketching  materials ;  and  they 
have  every  advantage  which  can  be  obtained  for  them, 
whether  at  home  or  abroad.  Such  were,  and  are,  our 
friends  the  Leigh  Smiths,  and  thou  canst  imagine  how 
much  pleasure  we  were  likely  to  derive  from  such  a 
family." 

"Nov.  30,  1845. — The  Freiligraths  have  been  living 
in  lodgings  near  us,  and  found  it  very  expensive ;  and 
as  he  is  now  in  the  office  of  Messrs.  Huth,  German  mer- 
chants, we  advised  them  to  take  a  house  and  furnish  it. 
They  did  so,  going  by  our  recommendation  to  the  cabinet- 
maker and  upholsterer  of  whom  we  bought  our  furniture, 
and  they  were  to  have  from  him  six  months'  credit. 
I  went  with  them  on  Saturday,  and  we  chose  their  fur- 
niture, and  it  quite  delighted  me  to  see  what  pleasure 
they  felt  in  having  a  house  of  their  own.  Later  on  the 
same  day,  when  Freiligrath  returned  to  the  office,  one  of 
his  employers  asked  him  what  he  had  done,  how  much 
he  had  bought,  &c.  'Well,'  said  good  Herr  Huth,  'I 
shall  now  pay  for  this  furniture,  and  I  sincerely  wish 
you  well  in  your  new  home.' 

"Poor  Freiligrath  was  greatly  overcome,  and  I  can 
assure  you  that  we  were  all  quite  affected  when  we  heard 


36  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  i 

of  it.  It  has  made  our  friends  so  happy.  He  says  he 
shall  serve  the  merchants  now  with  heart-service.  What 
a  glorious  world  this  would  be  if  every  one  did  all  the 
kindness  that  was  in  his  power ! " 

"Dec.  13,  1845. — Dear  mother  is  now  an  accepted 
member  of  this  meeting.  Two  of  the  most  respectable 
Friends,  in  a  worldly  point  of  view,  called  on  her  this 
week  to  announce  to  her  the  fact.  She  was  much 
pleased  by  it.  The  one  thing  that  is  wanted  to  complete 
her  full  comfort  is  more  free  intercourse  with  Friends, 
who  are  afraid  of  us.  The  story  of  '  Johnny  Darbyshire, 
a  Country  Quaker,'  which  was  published  lately  in 
the  '  Edinburgh  Tales,'  has  scandalised  them  greatly. 
William  has  been  written  to  about  it,  and  as  they  fancy 
we  are  sarcastic  and  inclined  to  ridicule  the  Society 
generally,  they  avoid  us. 

"  I  cannot  tell  thee  how  much  interest  we  all  feel  in 
the  certainty  of  the  repeal  of  the  Corn-Laws.  We  have 
tickets  promised  for  the  monster  meeting  at  Covent 
Garden  Theatre  on  Wednesday,  when  all  the  great 
heroes  of  the  League  will  meet.  It  is  a  noble  battle 
that  they  have  fought.  And  now,  thank  Heaven !  they 
are  just  on  the  eve  of  their  great,  glorious,  and  bloodless 
victory." 

My  mother  was  at  this  period  residing  with  us,  and 
I  am  struck  with  affectionate  admiration  at  the  remem- 
brance of  her  great  tact  and  forbearance  under  circum- 
stances not  readily  assimilating  with  her  convictions,  and 
of  her  keen  observation  and  good  sense,  which  would 
have  preserved  us  from  sundry  pitfalls,  had  we  been 
willing  to  profit  by  them.  She  chiefly  employed  herself 


1843-48.]  AT  CLAPTON.  37 

reading  or  knitting  in  her  own  room,  and  merely  saw 
our  intimate  friends,  who  were  very  favourably  impressed 
by  her  peaceful  exterior  and  unsectarian  utterances.  But 
whilst  she  highly  approved  of  our  literary  productions 
and  general  sentiments,  she  took  exception  to  our  ad- 
vocacy of  the  stage,  from  the  persuasion  that  virtuous 
persons,  assuming  fictitious  characters,  became  ultimately 
what  they  simulated.  She  consequently  eschewed  some 
exemplary  actresses — our  familiar  associates — terming 
them  "  stage-girls,  whom  she  pitied,  but  whose  accom- 
plishments she  abhorred." 

All  Friends,  however,  were  not  so  severe  as  my  ex- 
cellent mother  in  their  condemnation  of  actresses,  for 
Charlotte  Cushman  met  with  just  appreciation  from  the 
son  of  the  plain  ministering-Friend,  William  Forster, 
of  Tottenham.  This  was  the  celebrated  William  Edward 
Forster,  who  had  not  yet  been  disowned  for  marrying 
out  of  the  Society,  or  taken  any  prominent  part  in  the 
government  of  his  country,  being  chiefly  known  as  a 
staunch  Liberal  and  joint-proprietor  with  Mr.  Fison  in 
the  Greenholme  worsted-mills,  near  Burley,  in  Wharfe- 
dale.  On  one  occasion,  when  Charlotte  Cushman,  with 
her  intimate  friend,  Eliza  Cook,  was  staying  at  Mr. 
Forster's  Yorkshire  residence,  she  received  from  him 
an  entire  piece  of  alpaca  of  his  manufacture,  and  of  a 
new  dark  colour  called  steel-blue.  It  was  worn  by  both 
ladies  with  no  little  pride.  Miss  Cook,  who  dressed  in 
a  very  masculine  style,  which  was  considered  strange  at 
that  time,  with  short  hair  parted  on  one  side,  and  a 
tight-fitting,  lapelled  bodice,  showing  a  shirt-front  and 
ruffle,  looked  well  in  her  dark,  steel-blue  alpaca;  and 
Miss  Cushman,  who  possessed  a  strongly-built,  heroic 
figure,  not  the  less  so. 


3 8  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH  i. 

Many  enlightened  Friends  saw  nothing  to  take  offence 
at  in  "  Johnny  Darbyshire."  Samuel  Gurney's  daughter, 
Chenda  Barclay,  made  inquiries,  thirty  years  later,  how 
she  could  once  more  procure  "  the  delightful  story," 
saying,  "  when  she  was  a  child,  she  used  to  make  all  the 
Quaker  worthies  roar  with  laughing  by  reading  it  to 
them."  Her  friend,  Mrs.  Alfred  Tylor,  who,  as  a  girl 
at  Stoke-Newington,  felt  for  us  deeply  in  the  loss  of 
Claude,  long  remembered  the  calls  she  made  on  us  with 
her  excellent  father,  Edward  Harris,  as  well  as,  in  happier 
days,  their  spending  an  evening  with  us.  A  French  lady 
was  present,  who  sang  comic  songs,  which  some  of  the 
Friends  thought  rather  too  gay  for  their  principles,  but 
which  charmed  and  delighted  her  less  Quakerish  heart. 

We  had  at  that  time  become  constant  attenders  at 
the  Unitarian  chapel  in  Hackney,  the  minister  being  the 
much-beloved  Dr.  Sadler,  who  later  edited  the  Life  of 
Crabb  Robinson.  There  was  also  a  Unitarian  chapel  at 
Stoke-Newington,  where  formerly  the  husband  of  Mrs. 
Barbauld  had  preached.  My  husband  and  I  went  on 
one  occasion  to  this  chapel  to  hear  a  remarkable  man, 
Joseph  Barker.  He  came  from  Yorkshire,  and  preached 
powerfully  in  racy  dialect.  So  great  was  his  reputation, 
that  all  the  Unitarian  ministers  of  London  and  the  neigh- 
bourhood were  assembled  to  hear  him.  His  sermon 
depicted  the  Saviour,  not  as  the  mighty,  omnipresent  Son 
of  God,  but  the  Son  of  Man,  the  friend  and  fellow- 
sufferer  of  the  human  race,  the  great  Teacher,  the  lover 
of  each  individual  man,  woman,  and  child,  and  Who  was, 
as  he  expressed  it,  "a  loomp  o'  luv."  Barker,  who 
had  been  a  Methodist,  never  remained  steadfast  in  his 
opinions.  He  next  wandered  on  from  a  humanitarian 
belief  into  infidelity. 


1843-48.]  AT  CLAPTON.  39 

In  1846  my  husband,  at  first  merely  a  contributor, 
became  one  of  the  editors  and  part-proprietor  of  a 
new  cheap  weekly  periodical,  The  People's  Journal, 
which  we  hoped  to  make  a  good  work,  that  would  help 
to  better  the  moral  and  intellectual  condition  of  the 
working-classes.  In  the  course  of  the  year  I  write  to  my 
sister : — 

4 'What  canst  thou  mean  by  thinking  that  The  People's 
Journal  is  not  Christian  in  spirit  ?  Of  all  things  has  it 
been  our  aim  from  the  first,  and  will  be  to  the  end, 
to  make  it  the  organ  of  the  truest  Christianity.  The 
bearing  of  all  its  contents  is  love  to  God  and  man. 
There  is  no  attempt  to  set  the  poor  against  the  rich, 
but,  on  the  contrary,  to  induce  them  to  be  prudent, 
sober,  careful,  and  independent ;  above  all,  to  be 
satisfied  to  be  workers,  to  regard  labour  as  a  privilege 
rather  than  a  penalty,  which  is  quite  our  view  of  the 
case. 

"  It  does  not,  to  be  sure,  cry  up  Church  and  State.  It 
does  not  say  that  the  present  social  institutions  are  per- 
fect. But  it  endeavours  to  have  all  reforms  made  in  the 
spirit  of  Christianity  and  for  the  purposes  of  Christianity. 
No  living  beings,  dearest  sister,  can  estimate  Divine 
Revelation  higher  than  we  do.  It  is  the  greatest  boon 
to  man  under  all  circumstances,  be  his  station  in  life  what 
it  may.  Nevertheless,  it  is  in  the  spirit  of  Christianity  to 
raise  man  in  the  scale  of  being,  to  enlighten  and  enlarge 
his  understanding,  to  ennoble  and  purify  his  heart.  It  is 
his  greatest  ornament  in  prosperity,  his  best  consolation 
in  adversity.  It  is  the  poor  man's  safeguard  and  friend. 
No  one,  however  poor  in  this  world's  goods,  can  be 
abject  who  has  the  light  and  comfort  of  the  Gospel 
within  his  soul.  This,  dearest  sister,  if  it  be  sound 


40  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  i. 

and  true,  is  the  foundation  on  which  this  little  journal 
is  built ;  and  please  God,  with  His  benediction,  it 
shall  be  made  an  instrument  of  good  and  of  blessing 
in  a  thousand  ways." 

"  Oct.  12,  1846. — We  are  more  than  ordinarily  occu- 
pied with  many  things,  among  others  the  Journal,  in 
which  we  are  striving  to  make  some  very  important 
changes,  but  which  require  an  amount  of  labour  and 
painstaking  for  which  I  was  quite  unprepared.  How- 
ever, we  hope  that  we  shall  be  well  repaid  for  all  our 
endeavours,  and  then  we  shall  never  begrudge  them,  or 
remember  them  other  than  with  satisfaction.  I  trust  you 
have  all  liked  my  memoir  of  that  good  man  Garrison.  I 
did  not  say  all  I  felt,  because  I  feared  many  readers  would 
think  me  extravagant.  To  my  mind  there  is  no  impro- 
priety in  comparing  to  Christ  men  who  have  striven  to 
follow  His  example.  All  do  not  see  it  so,  and  as  we 
write  for  the  many,  I  have  been  contented  to  mention 
facts  and  leave  them  to  speak  for  themselves.  Did  thy 
dear  children  attend  any  of  the  meetings  of  the  New 
Anti- Slavery  League,  which  have  been  held  latterly  in 
Liverpool,  in  which  Garrison,  H.  C.  Wright,  and  Frederick 
Douglass  have  taken  part  ?  I  hope  they  have,  and  that 
their  hearts  are  concerned  in  the  cause.  I  have  admired 
dearest  mother's  zeal  in  this  great  question  of  humanity. 
She  has  seen  and  talked  with  these  good  men  here ;  and 
she  has  knit  such  a  quantity  of  nice  things  for  the  Anti- 
Slavery  Bazaar  in  Boston  as  is  really  quite  amazing  in 
one  at  her  time  of  life." 

"Dec.  1 8,  1846. — This  comes  to  tell  you  that  William 
will  sleep  at  your  house  on  the  night  of  January  5. 


1843-48.]  AT  CLAPTON.  41 

He  is  to  attend  a  soiree  of  the  Mechanics'  Institute 
on  the  6th,  and  from  there  goes  to  Leeds,  where  he 
takes  the  chair  at  a  soiree  of  the  Co-operative  League, 
of  which  he  is  a  sort  of  father.  We  are  very,  very 
busy,  as  on  the  first  of  January  comes  out  our  own 
Hewitt's  Journal.  We  have  discovered  that  the  manager 
of  the  People's  Journal  has  kept  no  books,  and  has 
mismanaged  the  whole  thing  dreadfully.  I  hope  we 
shall  get  out  of  the  business  free  of  loss.  William  has 
attended  many  public  meetings  in  London  latterly,  and 
speaks  splendidly.  It  is  the  very  time  for  us  to  estab- 
lish our  paper.  Do  not  be  anxious  about  us  ;  we  are 
all  in  high  spirits ;  and  it  is  perfectly  cheering  to 
see  how  warm  and  enthusiastic  people  are  about  our 
journal. 

"  We  have  had  Tennyson  with  us  a  good  deal  lately. 
We  quite  love  him." 

My  husband,  considering  the  remedy  for  the  wrongs 
of  labour  to  be  the  adoption  of  the  co-operative  principle 
or  the  combination  of  work,  skill,  and  capital  by  the 
operatives  themselves,  had  written  "Letters  on  Labour," 
which  led  to  the  foundation  of  the  Co-operative  League. 
Its  object  was  to  supply  the  industrious  classes,  both 
male  and  female,  with  gratuitous  information  on  the 
great  social  questions  of  the  day,  unfettered  by  sectarian 
theology  or  party  politics,  with  the  motto,  "Benefit  to 
all,  and  injury  to  none."  He  was  asked  to  preside 
at  co-operative  meetings,  and  to  lecture  on  the  subject 
in  different  towns  of  the  kingdom.  In  complying,  a 
series  of  disappointments,  however,  soon  proved  to  him 
that  it  would  require  years  of  active,  steady  effort  before 
any  practical  success  could  be  attained  ;  the  millions  being 


42  MARY  HO  WITT.  [CH.  i. 

quite  unprepared  calmly  and  wisely  to  consider  great 
principles. 

The  Leeds  Co-operative  League,  called  also  "The 
Redemption  Society,"  and  which  was  exceptionally  pros- 
perous, held  its  first  anniversay  in  January  1847.  It 
was  during  William's  absence  to  preside  at  this  meet- 
ing in  Leeds,  where  the  interest  displayed  in  co-opera- 
tion by  the  entire  population  formed  a  cheering  contrast 
to  the  general  apathy,  that  I  was  subjected  to  a  peculiar 
experience,  whose  awful  reality  has  never  passed  awray 
from  my  mind.  I  had  retired  to  rest  in  good  health 
and  spirits,  when  suddenly  a  strange,  alarming  sense 
of  perplexity,  of  impending,  all-embracing  darkness  and 
evil,  overwhelmed  me.  My  terror  made  the  heavy  four- 
post  bedstead  shake  under  me.  I  was  not  ill  or  faint, 
nor  did  I  think  it  requisite  to  call  assistance.  I  knew 
the  power  which  controlled  me  was  either  mental  or 
spiritual.  Surely  I  must  have  cried  to  God  for  help, 
as  slowly  the  horror  of  great  darkness  passed  away,  and 
all  was  tranquil  within  me.  It  was,  I  am  willing  to 
believe,  a  token  permitted  by  Divine  love  and  wisdom 
to  warn  and  prepare  me  for  the  discipline  required  to 
loosen  my  trust  in  the  creature,  and  to  place  it  wholly 
in  the  Creator.  It  preceded  a  time  of  calamity.  We 
had  speedily  severe  monetary  losses  and  mortifica- 
tions, and  gained  new  and  sad  revelations  of  human 
nature. 

Assisted  by  Samuel  Smiles,  a  most  able  defender  of 
the  rights  of  industry  and  the  benefits  of  self-culture, 
and  other  gifted  and  popular  writers,  we  sought  in  the 
pages  of  Howitt's  Journal,  in  an  attractive  form,  to 
urge  the  labouring  classes,  by  means  of  temperance, 
self-education,  and  moral  conduct,  to  be  their  own  bene- 


1843-48.]  AT  CLAPTON.  43 

factors.  Unfortunately  for  ourselves,  the  magazine  proved, 
like  its  predecessor,  a  pecuniary  failure ;  and  Ebenezer 
Elliott  remarked  to  us  in  a  shrewd,  pithy  letter  : — "  Men 
engaged  in  a  death-struggle  for  bread  will  pay  for  amuse- 
ment when  they  will  not  for  instruction.  They  woo 
laughter  to  unscare  them,  that  they  may  forget  their 
perils,  their  wrongs,  and  their  oppressors,  and  play  at 
undespair.  If  you  were  able  and  willing  to  fill  the 
iournal  with  fun,  it  would  pay." 

In  August  1847,  in  a  letter  to  my  sister,  I  re- 
mark : — 

"  Thou  wilt  be  glad  to  hear  that  we  have  drawn  up 
our  resignation  of  membership,  signed  it,  and  when  thou 
readest  this,  it  will  be  noised  abroad  that  we  are  no 
longer  Friends.  Strange  as  it  may  seem  to  thee,  I  have 
an  old  love  of  the  Society.  I  know  that  the  majority 
of  Friends  are  narrow-minded,  living  as  much  in  the 
crippling  spirit  of  sectarianism  as  any  denomination 
whatever;  and  I  know  that  they  and  I  never  could 
assimilate ;  yet  I  do  love  them  all,  with  an  ingrained 
sentiment,  which  makes  me  feel  as  if  somehow  they 
were  kindred  to  me.  It  is  strange,  perhaps,  but  there 
is  not  one  so-called  religious  body  that  I  could  conscien- 
tiously connect  myself  with.  There  is,  to  my  feelings, 
a  want  of  real  spirituality,  a  want  of  a  real,  child-like, 
loving  trust  in  them  all.  I  am  not  quite  sure  whether 
I  should  not  find  in  the  writings  of  Swedenborg  what 
best  accorded  with  my  views  and  feelings.  Anna  Mary 
has  been  reading  a  good  deal  on  these  subjects  lately, 
and  from  what  she  and  others  tell  me,  there  is  more 
truth  in  Swedenborgianism  than  one  commonly  finds  out 
of  the  New  Testament." 


44  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  i. 

In  the  first  days  of  January  1848  I  communicate  to 
Anna  the  sorrowful  intelligence  of  the  death  of  our 
beloved  sister  in  America ;  and  in  the  following  May, 
that  our  dear  mother  had  peacefully  breathed  her  last. 
She  was  interred  in  the  Friends'  burial-ground,  Stoke- 
Newington,  at  the  side  of  Claude. 


CHAPTER  II. 

IN  ST.  JOHN'S  WOOD. 
184.8-1852. 

AT  Michaelmas  1848  we  left  Lower  Clapton  and  settled 
near  Regent's  Park.  To  this  removal  allusion  is  made  in 
the  following  letters  :  — 

To  Miss  MARY  GILLIES. 

"  The  last  note  in  the  old  home  I  write  to  you.  I 
am  just  on  the  point  of  leaving  it,  but  I  do  so  without 
regret.  I  expect  A.  M.  has  written  to  you  about  the  new 
home,  where  she  now  is.  In  a  note  she  wrote  yester- 
day she  says  the  house  improves  on  acquaintance.  It  is 
28  Upper  Avenue  Road ;  quiet  and  pretty,  we  think,  and 
with  a  garden.  I  am  frightened  at  the  expense  of  this 
moving.  It  lengthens  itself  out,  as  the  Germans  say ; 
and  I  can  see  no  end  to  it.  However,  I  was  told  last 
night  by  Mr.  Henry  Bateman,  that  I  was  likely  to  be 
employed  to  write  by  the  Tract  Society,  which  pays  well ; 
that  has  pleased  me,  although  how  I  am  to  be  orthodox 
enough  I  cannot  tell.  I  am  to  send  in  a  sample.  Can 
you  help  me  to  a  good  idea  \  I  must  be  a  little  religious, 
and  I  mean  to  have  a  death  in  it ;  as  the  readers  of 
tracts,  I  have  been  told,  always  ask  for  '  a  pretty  tract 
with  a  death-bed  in  it.' 

"  Do  you  know  a  very  delightful  American  book,  called 
'  A  New  Home  ;  or,  Who  will  Follow  ? '  The  lady  who 


46  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  n. 

wrote  it,  Mrs.  Kirkland,  is  in  London.  She  called  on  us 
yesterday,  and  is  a  bright,  clever,  kind-looking  woman, 
who  has  greatly  taken  my  fancy.  She  will  come  to  us  at 
the  new  home  on  Sunday  next.  Can  you  drop  in  to  tea  ? 
Do,  dear  creature,  and  as  many  of  you  as  can." 

"  Upper  Avenue  Road. — My  dearest  sister,  I  have 
been  very  busy.  Besides  that,  I  am  so  deadened  and 
stupefied  often,  that  I  can  hardly  rouse  myself  to  get 
out  of  the  regular  jog-trot  routine  of  the  day.  I  sit 
down  after  breakfast  and  work,  work,  work ;  then  when 
the  usual  stint  is  done,  I  only  want  to  be  quiet  and  sleep. 
Tell  me  about  your  new  house,  and  let  me  know  how  you 
arrange  your  furniture,  for  I  have  a  sort  of  upholsterer's 
genius  in  me,  and  I  take  great  interest  in  furnishing. 
We  like  our  new  house  very  much,  though  we  find  it  is 
much  colder  than  the  old  one.  It  is  much  slighter  built, 
and  what  is  called  a  single  house,  so  that  the  rooms 
have  many  outer  walls,  which  makes  a  great  differ- 
ence. The  greatest  want  to  me  is  the  not  having  a 
little  working-room  to  myself.  I  am  obliged  to  do  my 
writing  in  the  dining-room,  and  thus  I  am  exposed  to 
constant  interruption.  But  even  this  has  its  bright 
side,  because  I  can  bear  interruptions  better  than  either 
William  or  Anna  Mary.  It  would  drive  them  mad  ;  the 
poor  mother  of  a  family  learns  to  be  patient ;  that  is 
one  comfort. 

"  Times  are  so  bad  that  publishers  will  not  speculate 
on  books ;  and  when  I  have  finished  the  work  I  am  now 
engaged  on,  I  have  nothing  else  certain  to  go  on  with. 
Heaven  help  us  all !  Yet  what  is  our  case  to  that  of 
thousands  besides  ?  I  dislike  going  outside  the  door, 
because  I  am  met  by  such  pale,  appealing  countenances  of 


1848-52.]  IN  ST.  JOHN'S  WOOD.  47 

begging  women  and  children ;  whether  it  is  that  I  look 
kind  and  sympathetic,  or  that  the  poor  feel  an  affinity  to 
the  poor,  I  know  not,  but  they  follow  me  as  I  go  along 
like  dogs,  and  I  cannot  get  rid  of  them.  I  see  other 
people  pass  them  by,  and  they  take  no  notice  ;  but  they 
fairly  fasten  on  me  like  leeches.  What  is  to  be  the  end 
of  all  this  poverty  and  distress  God  only  knows !  " 

"Jan.  i,  1849. — Accept,  my  dearest  sister,  my  best 
and  kindest  wishes  for  your  happiness  through  the 
coming  year.  May  God  abundantly  bless  you,  and  may 
it  please  His  infinite  mercy  to  spare  you  suffering  and 
sorrow. 

"  I  should  like  my  dear  niece,  Mary,  to  be  here  when 
the  hawthorns  are  in  bloom  in  Regent's  Park,  because 
they  are  so  inconceivably  beautiful.  She  could,  even 
at  the  worst,  walk  every  day  into  the  park,  sit  on  the 
benches  under  these  trees ;  then  walk  on  to  the  Botanic 
Gardens  or  the  Zoological  Gardens,  and  really  enjoy 
herself. 

"We  have  just  become  acquainted  with  a  most  in- 
teresting young  man,  Edward  La  Trobe  Bateman.  He 
is  a  decorative  designer  and  illuminator.  He  brings 
us  the  most  exquisite  things  to  see ;  work  out  of 
missals,  and  out  of  fine  old  illuminated  books  in  the 
British  Museum  and  in  grand  old  libraries.  He  has 
taken  a  house  not  far  from  us.  He  and  a  friend  of  his, 
a  young  man  of  similar  tastes,  are  going  to  fit  it  up 
with  furniture  of  their  own  designing  and  making. 
They  have  loads  of  old  china,  the  most  gorgeous  thou 
canst  imagine.  We  are  to  be  consulted  about  the 
fitting-up  of  this  place ;  and  we  promise  ourselves,  in 
a  small  way,  a  great  deal  of  pleasure. 


4g  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  n. 

"  I  want  to  send  you,  as  soon  as  I  get  a  copy,  '  Our 
Cousins  in  Ohio,'  which  will  interest  you,  because  it 
describes  dearest  Emma  and  her  children;  and  is,  I 
think,  such  a  beautiful  picture  of  her  in  the  midst  of 
her  home." 

I  had  in  1846  completed  a  little  book,  "The  Chil- 
dren's Year ; "  being  the  true  history  of  my  two  younger 
children  for  the  space  of  twelve  months.  It  was  very 
simple  and  true  to  Nature;  and  I  wished  all  children 
to  read  it,  except  those  described  therein,  as  I  con- 
sidered it  would  give  them  a  notion  that  all  they  did 
or  said  was  of  importance.  My  sister  Emma  was  so 
pleased  with  the  idea,  that  she  sent  me  a  similar  journal, 
a  faithful  narrative  of  her  children's  life  for  a  year.  At 
her  request  all  the  names  of  people  and  places  were 
changed  in  "  Our  Cousins  in  Ohio." 

"  Midsummer,  1849. — I  have  had  my  pen  in  my  hand 
many  times,  thinking,  '  Now  I  will  write  to  dear  Anna,' 
but  something  or  other  has  always  prevented  me.  I 
have  been  busy  in  various  ways ;  for  thou  must  bear  in 
mind  that  now  I  have  not  only  to  do  what  I  can,  but 
that  I  must  also  sew  for  the  family. 

"  I  have  just  finished  a  story,  in  one  volume,  for  the 
opening  novel  of  what  I  suppose  is  to  be  called,  '  Brad- 
shaw's  Eailway  Library ' — a  set  of  shilling  books,  to 
be  sold  at  all  the  railway  stations  in  the  kingdom,  for 
railway  travellers.  The  publishers  did  me  the  compli- 
ment to  ask  me  to  write  the  opening  volume.  I  have 
chosen  the  title,  'Mr.  Elworthy  and  his  Heirs,'*  and 

*  This  same  tale,  called  "  The  Heir  of  Wast  Wayland,"  was  brought  out  by 
Messrs.  Simms  &  M'liityre,  1851.   ' 


1848-52.]  IN  ST.  JOHN'S  WOOD.  49 

used  the  incident  of  that  young  woman  of  Uttoxeter — 
I  forget  her  name — who  married  John  Fox,  many  years 
her  senior ;  and  then,  after  his  speedily  occurring  death, 
all  his  relations  and  the  heirs-at-law  trying  to  get  the 
property  from  her  and  her  unborn  child.  Of  course, 
I  have  laid  it  in  another  scene,  and  altered  the  char- 
acters ;  but  the  main  facts  are  the  same.  I  have  taken 
as  the  locality  one  of  those  lovely  Yorkshire  dales,  of 
which  I  retain  so  pleasant  a  memory.  After  my  story 
was  constructed,  I  spoke  with  Birket  Foster's  father 
and  his  aunt  Sarah  about  the  Yorkshire  scenery,  and 
they  told  me  I  was  not  far  wrong. 

"Now  I  am  going  to  see  if  I  can  write  some  tracts, 
but  I  do  not  think  I  shall  succeed ;  still,  as  a  kind  friend 
will  introduce  them  to  the  Tract  Society,  it  is  worth 
while  to  see  what  I  can  do. 

"  We  were  yesterday  at  a  very  pleasant  soiree ;  an 
entertainment  given  to  all  the  men,  women,  and  boys 
in  the  employ  of  John  Cassell,  the  proprietor  of  the 
Standard  of  Freedom  newspaper,  to  which  William 
contributes.  It  was  the  anniversary  of  the  establishment 
of  the  paper ;  and  this  day,  therefore,  was  celebrated 
by  a  great  temperance  entertainment  in  his  vast  ware- 
rooms  in  Fenchurch  Street,  for  John  Cassell  is  likewise 
a  dealer  in  coffee  and  tea ;  and  all  the  people  thus 
employed  were  there  also. 

"  There  are  about  fifty  boys  in  the  coffee  business  and 
the  newspaper  and  printing  office.  I  had  the  agreeable 
task  of  making  tea  for  these  little  fellows.  All  were 
dressed  so  neatly,  their  faces  were  so  clean,  and  they 
looked  so  happy,  it  was  perfectly  delightful.  After  tea 
a  very  nice  band  of  musicians  played,  and  all  who  liked 
danced  in  one  of  the  great  warerooms.  Then .  came 

VOL.  II.  D 


50  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  IT. 

a  course  of  interesting  chemical  experiments,  ending 
with  the  administering  of  laughing-gas  to  several  of  the 
young  men  and  boys,  which  occasioned  a  great  deal 
of  merriment.  I  observed  that  its  effects  were  very 
similar  to  a  short  mesmeric  trance;  in  many  cases  the 
subjects  being  affected  by  music  in  the  same  beautiful 

manner. 

"  There  was  then  a  short  lecture  on  Scottish  song,  in 
which  several  lovely  pieces  were  sung.  Next  came  a 
series  of  beautiful  dissolving  views,  with  which  every- 
body was  delighted.  The  shouts  of  the  young  people 
were  charming.  While  this  was  going  on  in  a  great 
room,  decorated  with  green  branches  of  oak,  birch,  laurel, 
and  such-like,  and  with  flowers,  an  abundant  supper 
was  preparing  in  another :  such  piled-up  dishes  of  sand- 
wiches and  of  cake ;  such  heaped-up  dishes  of  splendid 
strawberries,  and  jugs  of  excellent  milk,  with  fruits  and 
lemonade.  The  people  ate,  drank,  talked,  and  laughed, 
and  were  as  well-behaved  as  the  politest  party  in 
London. 

"A  gentleman  sang  the  well-known  song,  'We'll 
speak  of  man  as  we  find  him ; '  after  which  William 
proposed  the  health  of  Mr.  Cassell.  He  spoke  about 
the  beauty  and  excellence  of  such  entertainments  as  the 
present ;  in  which  all  were  happy,  all  were  improved,  all 
were  refreshed  in  body  and  mind,  yet  not  one  drop  of 
intoxicating  liquor  had  been  drunk.  He  then  spoke  of 
the  wonderful  merchants  and  tradesmen  of  London,  who 
had  begun  life  poorer  than  the  men  who  surrounded 
him,  and  had, v  as  in  the  case  of  Mr.  Cassell  himself, 
risen  by  their  own  industry  to  be  as  rich  and  powerful 
as  princes ;  not  forgetting,  however,  that  the  true  use  of 
money  was  the  diffusion  of  happiness  and  the  means  of 


1848-52.]  IN  ST.  JOHN'S  WOOD.  5I 

moral  improvement  in  those  around  us — such  was  the 
use  made  of  it  by  our  entertainer. 

"It  was  then  midnight,  and  so  ended  the  pleasant 
festival.  I  hope  this  time  next  year  we  may  all  meet 
there  again  ;  for  we  too,  like  the  poor  people,  are  ser- 
vants, in  the  best  sense  of  the  word,  to  John  Cassell. 
Long  life  and  prosperity  to  him,  says  my  heart  in  deep 
sincerity." 

With  regard  to  the  attempt  at  tract-writing,  the  sample 
sent,  and  entitled  "Woodnook  Wells,"  was  returned  by 
Mr.  Henry  Bateman  as  quite  ineligible.  It  was  then 
submitted  to  John  Cassell,  who,  greatly  admiring  it, 
had  it  immediately  appear  in  the  pages  of  his  peri- 
odical, The  Working-Men's  Friend. 

In  the  July  of  1849  we  went  with  our  children  for 
some  weeks  into  the  Peak  of  Derbyshire,  among  the 
scenes  which  my  husband  and  I  had  visited  together  after 
our  marriage,  twenty-eight  years  earlier.  We  all  spent 
a  real  holiday  amongst  the  grey  hills  and  green  valleys. 
It  remains  in  the  memory  as  a  season  of  bright  sunshine, 
soon  followed  by  a  heavy,  passing  cloud. 

On  Friday,  November  9,  I  was  surprised  by  receiving  a 
call  from  a  respectable  woman,  who,  introducing  herself  as 
Mrs.  Copeland,  of  1 1  Upper  Stamford  Street,  Blackfriars, 
demanded  the  rent  due  to  her  from  September.  How  still 
greater  my  consternation  when  she,  with  equal  amazement 
at  my  ignorance,  exclaimed,  "  A  gentleman  named  Youl 
had  taken  the  rooms  for  poor  Mrs.  Howitt,  who  was  in 
such  destitution  that  she  was  compelled  to  make  private 
application  for  relief  to  the  nobility ; "  adding,  "  I  was 
very  sorry  for  you,  ma'am,  I  am  sure,  but  when  letters 
evidently  containing  money,  and  sealed  with  coronets, 


52  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  n. 

kept  coming,  and  I  never  got  my  rent,  I  made  so  bold 
as  to  learn  your  address  at  the  British  Museum,  and  was 
surprised  to  find  you  living  in  so  good  a  house." 

A  Mr.  Edward  Youl  we  certainly  well  knew,  through 
his  becoming  a  very  clever  contributor  to  Hoivitt's 
Journal  in  the  spring  of  1847.  He  was  then  about 
thirty,  with  abundant  black  hair,  and  being,  he  said, 
very  short-sighted,  wore  spectacles.  He  mentioned  that 
he  was  a  Cambridge  graduate  and  a  classical  tutor,  but 
having  just  finished  the  education  of  his  late  pupil,  he 
resolved  to  seek  no  other  engagement,  but  devote  him- 
self to  literature.  Later,  he  told  us  in  confidence  that 
he  was  struggling  with  poverty  for  conscience'  sake.  He 
was  the  only  child  of  a  pawnbroker,  who  had  amassed  a 
large  fortune,  and  died  intestate  ;  but  he  was  determined 
to  die  of  starvation  rather  than  claim  such  ill-gotten 
wealth ;  and  had  married  a  lady  in  straitened  circum- 
stances connected  with  the  Society  of  Friends.  We  be- 
lieved the  romantic  story,  which  was  in  keeping  with  the 
spirit  of  his  high-toned  writings.  We  permitted  him  to 
come  to  our  house,  introduced  him  to  several  of  our 
friends,  and  procured  him,  amongst  other  literary  em- 
ployment, a  permanent  engagement  with  John  Cassell, 
who  gave  him  a  salary  of  ^200  per  annum  for  what 
amounted  to  about  three  days'  work  a  week  on  the 
Standard  of  Freedom.  In  this  situation  he  displayed 
remarkable  efficiency;  but  when  he  had  been  about  a 
year  with  Mr.  Cassell,  he  became  very  lazy,  and  conse- 
quently, after  repeated  warnings,  was  discharged  in  the 
summer  of  1849. 

We  did  not  wish  to  abandon  Mr.  Youl,  and  as  his  wife 
(who  had  never  attracted  us)  manifested  an  insatiable 
desire  to  go  on  the  stage,  our  friend,  Charles  Kean,  very 


1848-52.]  IN  ST.  JOHN'S  WOOD.  53 

obligingly  obtained  her  an  engagement  with  a  manager 
at  Hull ;  and  Mr.  Linwood,  a  Unitarian  minister,  who 
had  become  a  Congregationalist,  and  the  purchaser  of 
the  Eclectic  Revieiu,  consented  to  meet  Youl  at  our 
house  on  Sunday,  November  1 1 ,  to  secure  him  as  a 
regular  contributor. 

On  the  previous  Friday,  however,  Mrs.  Copeland 
made  me  the  above-mentioned  extraordinary  disclosure, 
and  on  the  next  day  my  husband,  after  obtaining  a 
warrant  for  Youl's  apprehension,  and  a  detective  to  put 
on  his  track,  proceeding  along  Stamford  Street,  re- 
cognised him  approaching  at  a  great  distance.  Youl, 
although  without  spectacles,  suddenly  dived  down  a 
by-lane  and  entirely  disappeared.  He  must  instantly 
have  gone  to  Hull,  as  his  wife  wrote  to  me  on  the 
morrow,  Sunday :  "  My  husband  will  make  every  ex- 
planation if  you  will  forgive  him.  Dear  Mrs.  Howitt, 
pray  think  of  our  prospects  ;  mine  will  be  sacrificed  with 
his,  and  they  are  just  opening  so  bright." 

The  ensuing  day  Youl,  from  York,  wrote  a  begging- 
letter  in  my  name  to  Macaulay,  and  received  £10  by 
return  of  post.  The  detective  traced  him  to  Leeds, 
where  he  seemed  to  sink  into  the  ground ;  for,  impatient 
of  the  stigma  lying  upon  me  in  many  unknown  quarters, 
I  insisted,  in  spite  of  the  entreaties  of  our  legal  adviser, 
on  sending  a  statement  of  the  fraud  to  the  daily  papers. 
We  had  immediately  instituted  an  extensive  inquiry, 
and  found  that,  amongst  other  persons  of  rank  and  in- 
fluence, he  had  forged  my  name  to  Lords  John  Russell, 
Lansdowne,  Denman,  Mahon,  and  Brougham.  The 
latter,  writing  in  explanation  from  Cannes,  stated  that 
on  receiving  an  application  from  me  speaking  of  great 
pecuniary  difficulties,  and  requiring  immediate  assist- 


54  MARY  HO  WITT.  [en.  n. 

ance,  he  had  instantly  sent  it  to  Lord  John  Russell,  with 
a  strong  recommendation  to  settle  a  pension  on  me, 
applied  on  my  behalf  to  Miss  Burdett  -  Coutts,  and 
himself  forwarded  £20.  He  would,  if  needful,  return 
from  Cannes  to  give  evidence.  Sir  Robert  Peel  had 
generously  remitted  £50.  The  forged  letters  returned 
to  me  were  written  in  a  crawling,  exaggerated  strain. 
In  acknowledging  a  donation  from  the  Bishop  of  Oxford 
(Wilberforce),  I  was  made  to  say:  "I  went  down  on  my 
knees  and  thanked  God,  Who  had  moved  his  lordship's 
heart  to  such  noble  kindness  to  me." 

In  December,  Mr.  Justice  Talfourd  sent  us  word  that 
an  individual  who  had  in  the  previous  summer  extracted 
£20  from  him  under  the  assumed  name  of  Thomas 
Cooper,  author  of  "The  Purgatory  of  Suicides,"  had 
written  to  him  from  Liverpool,  and  was  certainly  our 
man.  The  same  evening  our  eldest  son  and  the 
detective  went  to  Liverpool,  put  themselves  into  com- 
munication with  the  police,  the  post-office,  and  the 
owners  of  the  American  packets ;  but  Youl  eluded  their 
vigilance. 

In  the  following  April  1850  Mrs.  Youl  called,  in 
Liverpool,  on  the  wife  of  the  celebrated  manufacturing 
chemist,  Dr.  Muspratt,  and  sister  to  Charlotte  Cushman, 
saying,  "her  husband  was  the  person  who  had  made 
use  of  my  name  to  obtain  money.  It  was  only  lately 
she  had  learnt  what  he  had  done."  "  I  never  saw  a 
poor  creature  in  such  affliction,"  wrote  Mrs.  Muspratt ; 
"  she  has  pawned  everything,  even  her  wedding-ring. 
I  gave  her  the  money  to  go  to  London,  where  she  hoped 
she  might  find  some  assistance." 

Some  years  afterwards  John  Cassell  encountered  Youl 
sitting  opposite  him  in  a  New  York  eating-house. 


1848-52.]  IN  ST.  JOHN'S  WOOD.  55 

Although  differently  disguised,  he  recognised  the  voice 
and  features,  and  accosted  him  by  name.  Youl,  how- 
ever, most  coolly  denied  ever  having  been  in  England. 
In  March  1870  one  Robert  Spring,  alias  Sprague,  alias 
Redfern  Hawley,  and  a  host  of  other  aliases,  was  tried 
and  convicted  in  the  Court  of  Quarter-Sessions  in 
Philadelphia  for  false  pretences.  Experts  believed  this 
man  and  Youl  to  be  identical.  He  had  been,  in  America, 
"The  distracted  father  of  a  large  family;"  "A  poor 
widow  with  a  few  autographs  of  the  distinguished  dead  ;  " 
"  The  orphan  daughter  of  Stonewall  Jackson  ; "  "  Maggie 
Ramsay  under  religious  convictions ; "  "  The  kind  Dr. 
Hawley,"  &c.  We  were  assured  by  a  gentleman  in  the 
Department  of  the  Interior,  that  "the  various  dodges 
he  was  discovered  to  have  originated  and  successfully 
played  ;  the  versatility  of  character  he  had  assumed  ;  the 
systematic  mode  of  keeping  his  accounts  (for  his  ledger 
had  been  captured) ;  the  very  extraordinary  manner  in 
which  he  had  shaped  his  frauds  to  avoid  the  penalties  of 
the  law  if  caught ;  and  the  success  with  which  he  had  for 
years  foiled  all  efforts  to  trace  him  out,  would,  if  given  in 
a  narrative  form  to  the  public,  present  them  with  the 
picture  of  the  '  Prince  of  Swindlers.' ' 

I  had  earlier  often  said,  arid  honestly  thought,  that  it 
was  a  fine  thing  to  combat  with  one's  self  and  stand 
victor  ;  and  when  residing  in  St.  John's  Wood,  rising 
above  many  anxieties  and  disappointments,  I  determined 
to  be  strong  and  joyful.  Life,  under  the  most  adverse 
circumstances,  was  full  of  riches,  which  I  would  neither 
disregard  nor  squander.  Thus  treasuring  up  all  the 
simple  elements  of  beauty  around  me,  I  still  remember 
the  charm  of  a  suburban  spring  morning.  Up  and  down 
the  Avenue  Road  the  lilacs  and  tacamahacs  were  coming 


MARY  HOWITT. 


[en.  n. 


into  leaf,  the  almond-trees  were  full  of  blossom,  and  the 
sun  shone  amid  masses  of  soft  silvery  cloud.  Then, 
again,  there  was  rural  Belsize  Lane,  delightful  at  all 
seasons,  with  its  lofty  elms  and  luxuriant  hedgerows  of 


BELSIZE  LANE,   ST.   JOHN'S  WOOD. 


rose-bushes,  elders,  and  hawthorn.  How  green,  too, 
were  the  sloping  fields  leading  from  the  St.  John's  Wood 
end  of  Belsize  Lane  to  Hampstead  ! 

My  eldest  daughter,  who  desired  to  devote  herself  to 
art,  had  never  forgotten  the  profit  and  delight  which  she 
had  derived  from  our  visits  to  the  German  capitals  and 


1848-52.]  IN  ST.  JOHN'S  WOOD.  57 

their  works  of  art.  Our  visit  to  Munich  and  the  studio 
of  Kaulbach  had  especially  impressed  her  mind  and 
imagination.  We  had,  after  passing  through  the  field 
of  long  waving  grass,  by  which  flowed  the  rapid  Isar, 
entered  the  large,  half-neglected-looking  building  used 
by  the  great  artist  as  his  atelier.  There  we  had  seen  not 
only  the  cartoon  of  his  famous  "Destruction  of  Jeru- 
salem," but  the  inimitable  illustrations  to  "  Reineke 
Fuchs."  On  an  inner  door  were  painted  a  boy  and  girl, 
as  if  done  in  the  very  exuberance  of  fancy,  and  of  such 
loveliness,  that  they  would  enrich  the  walls  of  any  house 
whatever.  Kaulbach,  then  scarcely  middle-aged,  had 
received  us  with  great  courtesy  in  the  midst  of  his  work. 
When  we  asked  him  if  he  conversed  in  English,  he 
replied,  "  I  speak  no  language  but  German,  and  that," 
pointing  to  his  painting !  Indeed,  what  more  eloquent 
and  universal  tongue  need  be  spoken  ? 

Anna  Mary  felt  that  Munich  and  Kaulbach  would 
afford  her  the  most  consonant  instruction,  and  in  May 
1850  went  thither,  accompanied  by  a  fellow-votary,  Miss 
Jane  Benham.  They  were  most  generously  received  as 
pupils  by  the  famous  painter,  who  assigned  to  their 
use  one  of  the  rooms  in  his  picturesque  studio  by  the 
Isar. 

A  few  days  after  their  departure  for  Munich,  Henry 
Chorley — then  leading  a  somewhat  luxurious,  literary, 
bachelor  life  at  the  West  End — came  to  tell  me  he  had 
accepted  from  Messrs.  Bradbury  &  Evans  the  editor- 
ship of  The  Ladies'  Companion ;  and  he  wanted  Annie, 
as  we  all  now  called  my  daughter,  to  go.  to  a  great 
miracle-play  of  the  Passion,  performed  that  year  by  the 
devout  peasants  of  Ober-Ammergau,  and  who  would, 
at  its  termination,  thank  God  on  their  knees  that  He 


58  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  n. 

had  once  more  permitted  them  to  perform  the  sacred 
drama  in  His  honour.  There  would  be  Stellwagen  to 
the  place  from  Munich;  and  he  begged  her  to  write 
for  him  a  description  of  the  whole  thing,  from  the 
setting-out  in  the  morning  to  the  end  of  the  play.  She 
willingly  complied,  and  thus  first  made  known  this 
remarkably  striking,  pathetic,  but  now  trite  subject  to 
the  English  public.  Other  descriptive  letters  from  her 
pen  appeared  in  Household  Words  and  the  Athenaeum. 
They  were  much  admired,  and  Henry  Chorley  encouraged 
her  to  collect  and  publish  these  scattered  "  bits,"  which, 
under  the  title  of  "An  Art  Student  in  Munich,"  formed 
a  fresh  and  charming  book,  because  so  genuine. 

On  February  20,  1850,  I  received  the  following 
from  Charles  Dickens,  written  from  Devonshire  Ter- 
race : — 

"  I  address  this  note  to  Mr.  Howitt  no  less  than  to 
you.  You  will  easily  divine  its  purpose,  I  dare  say  ;  or 
at  all  events  you  would,  if  you  knew  what  companions 
of  mine  you  have  ever  been. 

"  You  may  have  seen  the  first  dim  announcements  of 
the  new  cheap,  literary  weekly  journal  I  am  about  to 
start.  Frankly,  I  want  to  say  to  you,  that  if  you  would 
ever  write  for  it,  you  would  delight  me,  and  I  should 
consider  myself  very  fortunate  indeed  in  enlisting  your 
assistance. 

"I  propose  to  print  no  names  of  contributors,  either 
in  your  own  case  or  any  other,  and  to  give  established 
writers  the  power  of  reclaiming  their  papers  after  a 
certain  time.  I  hope  any  connection  with  the  enterprise 
would  be  satisfactory  and  agreeable  to  you  in  all  respects, 
as  I  should  most  earnestly  endeavour  to  make  it.  If  I 
wrote  a  book,  I  could  say  no  more  than  I  mean  to  suggest 


1848-52.]  IN  ST.  JOHN'S  WOOD.  59 

to  you  in  these  few  lines.     All  that  I  leave  unsaid,   I 
leave  to  your  generous  understanding." 

Thus,  from  the  commencement  of  the  Household 
Words,  we  became,  most  willingly,  contributors  to  its 
pages. 

To  MY  DAUGHTER  AT  MUNICH. 

"June  i,  1850. — I  have  sent  off  my  first  little  note 
to  you  hardly  four  hours  since,  and  now  I  begin  to 
write  again.  Charlton  has  asked  me  what  day  in  the 
week  I  like  best,  and  I  tell  him,  henceforth  the  day  on 
which  I  receive  a  letter  from  you.  I  must  not  omit 
to  mention  that  one  of  Charlton's  hens  has  laid  an 
egg.  You  can  imagine  his  felicity.  He  has  cackled 
more  than  ten  hens,  and  could  not  tranquillise  himself 
until  the  egg  had  been  boiled  for  his  father.  The  other 
event  of  the  morning  is,  that  Alfred  has  been  told  that 
'The  Miner's  Daughter'  in  Household  Words  was 
either  by  Currer  Bell  or  Mrs.  Gaskell.  He  was  much 
amused,  knowing  it  to  be  his  father's. 

"  Walter  Cooper  and  Gerald  Massey,  the  two  leading 
co-operative  tailors,  come  here  on  Sunday,  and  go  a 
stroll  on  Hampstead  Heath  with  your  father.  Gerald 
Massey  is  a  young  poet,  a  really  eloquent  writer,  very 
good-looking,  and,  I  hear,  quite  a  gentleman." 

i 

"  Sunday,  Aug.  18,  1850. — Do  you  remember  that  long 
lovely  field  by  the  side  of  Caen  Wood,  which  is  reached 
from  the  Lower  Heath  at  Hampstead  and  through  a 
brickfield  ?  I  have  an  uncommon  affection  for  it.  There 
is  a  mound  in  it  like  an  ancient  barrow,  and  on  which 
grows  a  group  of  picturesque  old  fir-trees.  The  view 


6o 


MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  n. 


thence  is  most  lovely.  On  the  left  lie  the  wooded 
heights  of  Hampstead,  with  an  opening  to  the  distant 
heath,  over  which  the  sun  sets  splendidly.  In  front  is 
all  the  mass  of  wood  of  Lord  Mansfield's  park,  and  on 
the  right  the  village  of  Highgate,  with  its  church  on  the 
hill,  its  scattered  woods  and  villas  ;  and  between  us 
and  them  the  green  slope  of  the  field  and  the  reservoirs 
below.  Yet,  to  show  you  how  ridiculously  things  fall  out 
in  this  world,  Miss  Meteyard  and  your  father  went  with 
me  last  evening  to  my  favourite  mound.  There,  hanging 
from  one  of  the  old  branches  of  a  scathed  fir-tree,  was  a 
man's  shirt.  Some  beggar  must  have  stripped  himself  of 
his  under-garment,  and,  with  a  sense  of  the  horrible  and 
comic  combined,  suspended  it  by  the  neck.  It  looked, 
at  a  distance,  like  some  shocking  suicide.  We  sat  down 
on  the  mound,  your  father  and  Miss  Meteyard  very 
wittily  parodying  Shakespeare  and  Hood's  '  Song  of  the 
Shirt.'  A  lady  and  gentleman  with  a  blue-coat  boy 
came  up.  We  agreed  to  listen  to  what  they  said.  The 
shirt  aloft  waved  its  ragged  arms,  it  shook  its  ragged 
tail  at  them.  They  neither  said  a  word  nor  made  a  sign. 
Was  the  shirt  a  mere  spectral  imagination  of  ours  I  No, 
there  it  surely  was.  Yet  they  would  not  or  could  not 
see  it.  We  left  them  seated  on  the  hill,  with  the  old 
shirt  aloft  seeming  to  make  fun  of  them. 

"  Your  father  has  entirely  finished  his  '  Madam 
Dorrington  of  the  Dene.' ' 

"  Filey,  Yorkshire,  Sept.  2,  1850. — Here  we  are,"  I 
write  to  my  sister,  ''at  a  small  fishing-village,  which  is 
attempting  to  convert  itself  into  a  bathing-place.  The 
coast  is  beautiful ;  very  wild  by  places ;  and  the  sands 
to  a  great  extent  as  smooth  as  a  marble  floor.  It  is  a 


1848-52.]  IN  ST.  JOHN'S  WOOD.  61 

favourite  resort  of  people  who  prefer  quietness  and  seclu- 
sion. Strange  to  say,  we  prefer  Scarborough,  and  are 
going  to  remove  there  in  two  or  three  days. 

"When  first  we  came  the  weather  was  stormy.  The 
wind  was  high,  and  the  surging,  roaring  sea  gave  a 
character  almost  of  savageness  to  the  coast  scenery.  This 
we  greatly  enjoyed.  Now  the  weather  is  bright  and 
genial  as  midsummer,  and  the  sea  as  calm  and  smooth 
as  a  mirror.  We  bathe  and  ramble  about  the  shore,  and 
lie  with  our  books  on  the  tops  of  the  breezy  headlands, 
looking  out  over  miles  and  miles  of  sea  ;  with  the  gulls 
and  sea-birds  wheeling  and  screaming  about  us ;  listen- 
ing to  the  never-ceasing  murmur  of  those  restless  waters, 
from  whose  depths  seem  at  all  times  to  come  forth  such 
wonderful  and  mysterious  voices.  I  can  listen  to  them 
for  hours. 

"We  have  Charlton  and  Meggie  with  us.  His  holi- 
days at  the  London  University  School  fall  at  this  time. 
Miss  Eliza  Meteyard  ('  Silverpen '),  too,  is  with  us.  She 
is  now  a  sufficiently  old  friend  of  ours  for  us  all  to  feel 
perfectly  at  ease  one  with  another.  She  has  her  work  as 
well  as  we.  Poor  dear  soul !  she  is  sitting  by  me  at  this 
moment  with  her  lips  compressed,  a  look  of  abstraction 
in  her  clever  but  singular  face,  and  her  hair  pushed  back 
from  her  forehead,  while  she  is  busy  over  a  story  about  a 
Bronze  Inkstand,  which  she  hopes  to  make  a  very  fine 
one.  A  good  creature  is  she  !  She  has  just  published 
a  most  interesting  juvenile  book,  called  '  The  Doctor's 
Little  Daughter.'  It  is  her  own  early  life.  Out  of  the 
money  thus  obtained,  she  has  provided  for  and  sent  out 
a  young  brother  to  Australia ;  while  for  another  she  is 
striving  in  another  way.  Indeed,  she  is  both  father  and 
mother  to  her  family ;  yet  she  is  only  seven-and-twenty, 


62 


MAKY  HOWITT.  [CH.  n. 


and  a  fragile  and  delicate  woman,  who  in  ordinary  circum- 
stances would  require  brothers  and  friends  to  help  her. 
How  many  instances  one  sees  almost  daily  of  the  mar- 
vellous energy  and  high  principle  and  self-sacrifice  of 
woman !  I  am  always  thankful  to  see  it,  for  it  is  in 
this  way  that  women  will  emancipate  themselves." 

To  MY  DAUGHTER. 

"Scarborough,  Sept.  17,  1850. — We  have  now  Mrs. 
Smiles  and  Miss  Wilkinson  with  us.  You  may  remem- 
ber, my  dear  Annie,  your  father  speaking  of  the  latter, 
when  he  came  from  Leeds.  She  is  very  bright,  agree- 
able, full  of  spirit.  The  children  perfectly  adore  her. 
Friday. — The  Smileses  have  gone.  Dr.  Smiles  came  on 
Wednesday.  We  have  greatly  enjoyed  their  visit.  He, 
full  of  mirth  and  playfulness,  walked  about  with  the 
children,  helped  them  to  make  mounds  and  canals  in 
the  sands,  and  found  as  much  fun  as  they  did  in  watch- 
ing the  sea  come  up,  assault  these  constructions,  and 
lay  them  waste.  He  would  ask  little  boys  and  girls, 
much  to  their  astonishment,  whether  they  were  married ; 
to  the  amusement  of  Charlton  and  Meggie,  who  enjoyed 
the  blank  looks,  especially  of  one  little  fellow  of  about  ten, 
who  said  simply,  '  No,  he  was  not  married,  but  his  father 
and  mother  were.'  He  also  greatly  diverted  our  children 
by  answering  a  group  of  juveniles,  who  asked  him  what 
o'clock  it  was,  that  '  he  did  not  carry  a  clock  about  with 
him.  He  could  only  tell  them  what  o'watch  it  was, 
which  would  perhaps  do  till  they  got  home.' 

"  We  are  reading  a  wonderful  book,  'Alton  Locke,  Poet 
and  Tailor :  an  Autobiography ' — an  extraordinary  pro- 
duction, very,  very  fair,  and  exceedingly  clever.  It  will 
make  a  great  stir.  It  is  written  by  Mr.  Kingsley,  a 


1848-52.]  IN  ST.  JOHN'S  WOOD.  63 

clergyman  of  the  Church  of  England,  brother-in-law  to 
Mr.  Froude." 


"Nov.  1850. — We  have  been  very  busy  this  week  in 
getting  ready  articles  for  Christmas.  Your  father  is 
writing  a  beautiful  story  for  the  Christmas  number  of 
Household  Words.  I  am  also  writing  a  fresh  ballad  for 
the  same  journal.  It  is  a  sort  of  fellow  to  'Richard 
Burnell,'  which  earlier  appeared.  I  have  got  desperately 
absorbed  in  it.  It  is  curious  to  me  to  see  how  very 
much  these  ballads  are  a  reflection  of  my  own  being 
and  my  especial  interests.  The  great  ballad-writing  time 
with  me  was  when  you  were  a  girl,  and  those  earlier 
productions  are  very  much  about  children,  and  beautiful 
spiritual-minded  young  maidens.  Then  for  many  years 
I  wrote  no  ballads  at  all.  I  fancied  that  I  never  should 
write  any  more.  But  a  new  inspiration  has  come  over 
me.  The  joys  and  sorrows  of  one  poor  friend  have  found 
utterance  in  my  '  Richard  Burnell,'  and  those  of  another 
will  come  forth  in  my  dear  '  Thomas  Harlowe.'  I  am 
also  asked  to  write  a  ballad  for  the  Christmas  number  of 
the  Illustrated  News,  and  to  give  Henry  Chorley  one 
for  The  Ladies'  Companion. 

"  I  work  always  in  your  painting-room,  in  which  I 
have  made  no  alterations.  I  venerate  the  old  things  and 
the  old  memories.  But  I  am  getting  over  my  intense 
longing  for  you.  I  can  take  up  beautiful  thoughts  of 
you  and  lay  them  down  again  at  will,  and  not  be  ridden, 
as  it  were,  by  them,  driven  by  them,  haunted  by  them  till 
they  become  like  a  nightmare.  Oh !  that  was  dreadful. 
If  I  were  a  painter,  I  should  paint  a  Ceres  mourning  for 
the  lost  Proserpine.  I  understand  that  mother's  heart  so 
well,  that  I  should  not  fail  in  making  a  countenance 


64  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  n. 

befitting.  I  can  see  the  wonderful  head  of  the  maternal 
Ceres,  with  her  heart,  not  her  eyes,  full  of  tears,  revealing 
inexpressible  love,  and  yet  desolation.  Don't  imagine 
that  I  am  such  an  one  now.  I  am  very  happy  ;  nor  would 
I  wish  my  Proserpine  to  be  here." 

"Nov.  30,  1850. — I  shall  copy  your  account  of  the 
consecration  of  the  Basilica  for  the  Athenmtm,  but  I  am 
afraid  it  is  too  gloriously  papistical  for  the  present  time 
in  England.  You  can  have  no  idea  what  a  tide  of  popu- 
lar feeling  has  set  in  against  everything  Catholic.  '  No 
Popery '  is  written  over  all  the  walls  of  London.  Public 
meetings  are  held  everywhere,  and  petitions  and  protests 
are  got  up  by  all  parties  against  Papacy.  There  never 
was  so  anti-Catholic  a  nation  as  this.  However,  your 
account  is  very  beautiful  and  picturesque,  and  they  may 
give  it  as  news,  though  your  father  thinks  they  will  pro- 
bably remove  some  of  its  glory." 

"Dec.  9,  1850. — I  asked  your  father  what  there  was 
to  tell  you.  He  said,  '  Tell  her  that  the  King  of  Prussia 
has  ordered  Freiligrath  out  of  his  dominions ;  that  the 
Catholics  at  Hampstead  have  put  up  within  these  few 
weeks  a  grand,  new,  and  rather  beautiful  Madonna  and 
Child,  as  large  as  life,  over  their  chapel-door ;  and  that 
the  people  have  pelted  it  with  mud  and  stones  ;  and  that 
the  other  day,  when  he  passed,  two  men  stood  and  cen- 
sured the  image,  saying,  '  it  was  idolatry  in  a  plain 
form,'  whereupon  your  father  thought  that  he  had 
seen  idolatry  in  a  much  plainer  form.  Tell  her  that 
there  is  so  little  news,  that  the  Times  has  nothing 
to  write  about  but  Papal  Aggression ;  but  that,  spite 
of  the  Times  and  all  the  saints,  Cardinal  Wiseman 


1848-52.]  IN  ST.  JOHN'S  WOOD.  65 

has  been  installed,  and  that  we  have  now  an   English 
Cardinal  in  London.' ' 

"Dec.  19,  1850. — You  ask  what  people  think  about 
the  state  of  French  politics  ;  they  are  amazed,  confounded, 
indignant.  The  Times  writes  gloriously  about  it,  and 
for  that  reason  is  not  permitted  to  enter  France.  I 
expect  Napoleon  will  be  elected  to-morrow,  and  that 
despotism  will  raise  its  head  and  lord  it  over  the  nations 
for  a  time.  But  the  day  of  reckoning,  when  it  does 
come,  will  only  be  all  the  more  terrible.  The  end  of  the 
tragedy  is  not  yet ;  we  are  only  in  the  first  act. 

"  Poor  dear  Miss  Meteyard  is  in  some  trouble  just 
now  because  people  are  beginning  to  discover  popery 
in  her  little  book.  Some  influential  person  warned  her 
publishers,  Hall  &  Virtue,  against  her  as  a  Jesuit  in 
disguise ;  and  she  so  rationalistic !  Her  publishers  are 
therefore  hanging  back  about  accepting  her  collected 
tales,  and  they  had  been  so  earnest  about  them  just 
before." 

"  Christmas  Day,  1850. — Last  night  Eliza  Fox  wrote 
proposing  for  them  and  Mrs.  Gaskell  to  come  to  us  this 
evening.  Meggie  suggests  that  we  should  not  be  grand 
and  intellectual — but  ghost-stories  and  capital  tales 
should  be  told,  and  that  we  should  even  play  at  blind- 
man's  buff.  We  may  be  merry  and  tell  tales,  but  I 
doubt  the  playing  at  blindman's  buff." 

"  Thursday. — -The  first  thing  I  do  this  morning  is  to 
tell  you  that  last  evening  went  off  very  well.  We  had 
only  the  Foxes,  Mrs.  Gaskell,  the  Garth  Wilkinsons, 
Mr.  Doherty,  Miss  Meteyard,  and  Mr.  La  Trobe  Bateman. 

"  On  Christmas  Eve,  Miss  Meteyard,  having  written  to 

VOL.  II.  E 


66 


MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  n. 


Messrs.  Hall  &  Virtue  to  know  the  name  of  '  the  influen- 
tial person'  who  had  charged  her  so  falsely,  received 
from  them,  in  reply,  one  from  her  saintly  enemy.  It  was 
a  most  pious  letter  from  the  Honourable  Mr.  Finch, 
brother  to  the  Earl  of  Aylesford.  He  expressed  satis- 
faction in  her  assurance  that  she  was  no  Catholic,  but  he 
still  maintained  the  dangerous  character  of  '  The  Doctor's 
Little  Daughter.'  He  had  taken  it,  with  the  offensive 
passages  marked,  to  a  noted  Church  of  England  publishing 
firm.  After  this  letter  Messrs.  Hall  &  Virtue  said  they 
must  decline  her  tales.  It  is  the  loss  of  ^"250  to  poor 
Miss  Meteyard,  while  I  suppose  that  Mr.  Finch,  sur- 
rounded by  creature  comforts,  would  go  to  rest  on 
Christmas  Eve  feeling  that  he  had  done  God  service. 

"Mrs.  Gaskell  is  much  pleased  with  your  writings. 
She  says  you  do  not  make  the  reader  see  the  things  with 
your  eyes,  but  you  present  the  scene  itself  to  him.  She 
hopes,  on  your  return,  you  will  collect  and  publish  your 
letters  in  a  volume — a  sort  of  'Art  Life  in  Munich.'  Her 
praise  was  quite  gratuitous.  She  is  going  to  remain  in 
London  and  in  Essex  till  February,  the  air  of  Manchester 
not  agreeing  with  her. 

"I  must  now  tell  you  Mr.  Doherty's  ghost-story,  if 
so  it  may  be  called.  He  was  a  very  intimate  friend 
of  the  late  Lord  Wallscourt,  an  excellent  and  en- 
lightened nobleman,  who  had  large  estates  in  Ireland, 
and  wished  above  all  else  to  promote  the  best  interests  of 
his  Irish  dependents.  Part  of  the  year  he  lived  in  that 
country,  devoting  himself  to  his  people  ;  the  rest  of  his 
time  he  spent  with  Mr.  Doherty  and  other  social  re- 
formers in  Paris.  He  took  it  into  his  head  that  if  Mr. 
Doherty  would  go  and  live  on  his  Irish  estates,  he  could 
bring  about  the  most  wonderful  reformation  amongst  the 


1848-52.]  IN  ST.  JOHN'S  WOOD.  67 

population.  He  urged  his  going  very  much,  offered  him 
every  inducement,  entreated  him  by  his  grand  philan- 
thropic nature,  by  his  friendship  to  himself.  In  vain. 
Mr.  Doherty  said,  in  short,  that  he  was  so  importunate  as 
to  become  to  him  a  bore ;  that  Lord  Wallscourt  teased 
him,  just  as  a  wife  often  teases  her  husband,  by  her  well- 
meant  zeal,  till  he  will  not,  perhaps,  do  that  which  it 
would  be  well  for  him  to  do.  On  May  28,  1849,  Lord 
Wallscourt  died  suddenly  of  cholera  in  Paris.  Then  a 
deep  remorse  and  self-reproach  fell  upon  Mr.  Doherty's 
mind.  For  aught  he  knew  to  the  contrary,  his  friend 
had  died  feeling  anger  towards  him,  feeling  wounded, 
disappointed.  One  day,  as  he  sat  full  of  bitterness 
against  himself,  he  saw,  in  broad  daylight,  Lord  Walls- 
court  walking  with  two  gentlemen.  They  seemed  to  be 
in  deep  discourse,  when  he  appeared  suddenly  to  say, 
'  There  is  my  dear  good  friend  Doherty.  I  must  tell 
him  how  much  I  love  him.'  He  gave  him  a  look  of 
the  tenderest,  most  joyful  affection,  and  was  gone.  The 
nobleman  had  appeared  as  if  attired  in  full  Court  suit ; 
and  had  he  come  in  the  flesh,  he  could  not  have  restored 
more  peace  and  assurance  to  Mr.  Doherty's  mind  than 
was  given  by  that  ideal  look." 

"Feb.  10,  1851. — The  catkins  are  out  on  the  hazels, 
little  buds  are  forming  on  the  hawthorn-hedges,  and 
the  gorse  is  in  blossom.  We,  Miss  Meteyard  and  the 
children,  have  been  a  most  beautiful  walk  to  Hampstead 
Heath.  While  your  father  and  Miss  Meteyard  talked 
politics  and  abused  Harriet  Martineau  for  her  new 
infidel  book,  'Human  Nature,'  or  some  such  title,  by 
herself  and  Mr.  Atkinson,  the  children  and  I  strolled 
on  together  and  talked  of  the  good  and  happy  time, 


68  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  n. 

when  you  would  be  at  home  again.     We  agree  that  you 
will  not  be  back  till  the  end  of  May." 

"Feb.  24,  1851. — Ah!  yes,  my  own  beloved,  all  you 
say  of  the  chapel-going  is  true  enough.  But  somehow 
I  felt  as  if  this  non-observance  was  becoming  perfect 
neglect;  for  the  want  of  form  as  naturally  degenerates 
into  neglect,  as  observance  can  into  mere  form.  We 
say,  'We  will  walk  out  with  the  children  into  God's 
Temple  and  worship  there ;  and  in  the  evening  we  will 
read  a  beautiful  chapter  in  the  Gospels,  or  some  other 
noble,  glorious  book.  Thus  we  will  make  the  Sunday 
holy  and  attractive.'  But  it  is  not  so.  Six  times  at 
least  out  of  ten  some  cause  or  other  makes  the  walk 
commonplace  and  secular.  When  we  come  back,  either 
somebody  drops  in,  or  else  '  Pendennis '  or  *  David  Copper- 
field  '  or  some  other  attractive  book  is  read ;  Charlton 
falls  asleep,  and  so  the  day  is  done.  Then,  the  influence 
one's  outward  example  has  on  the  servants.  To  them 
it  appears  as  if  worship  so-called,  which  perhaps  in 
them  is  sincere,  has  no  value  with  us.  In  this  way  our 
good  works — that  is  to  say,  the  true  worship  within  us — 
is  not  seen  of  them,  and  so  they  cannot  in  us  glorify  our 
Father  who  is  in  heaven.  Again,  I  sometimes  think 
there  are  things  which  are  approved  of  God,  and  which 
bring  His  blessing,  though  we  may  be  apt  to  undervalue 
them.  Of  this  kind,  I  am  half-inclined  to  consider  these 
regular  religious  observances.  They  have  their  subtle 
influences.  They  are  among  God's  commands  to  us ; 
and  although  we  do  not  altogether  see  the  reasonable- 
ness of  them,  we  should  try  to  reach  the  blessing  through 
obedience.  It  is  in  this  spirit  that  I  have  taken  these 
sittings  in  Dr.  Sadler's  chapel  at  Hampstead. 


1848-52.]  IN  ST.  JOHN'S  WOOD.  69 

"You  can  have  no  idea  what  an  excitement  Harriet 
Martineau's  book  is  making.  It  is  always  out  when  we 
send  to  the  London  Library  for  it.  I  want  to  see  it,  for 
I  cannot  help  fancying  it  less  terrible  than  people  affirm. 
Dr.  Carpenter  says  that  '  she  does  not  declare  that  there 
is  no  God,  but  she  does  not  believe  there  is  one.  If 
there  is  one,  however,  then  she  does  not  believe  Him  to 
be  any  mechanical  genius,  that  He  has  nothing  to  do 
with  the  making  of  the  world,  and  that  she  feels  so  very 
happy  to  be  independent,  and  to  have  nobody  to  domineer 
over  her ! '  Douglas  Jerrold's  last  is  on  this  subject ;  he 
says,  'There  is  no  God,  and  Harriet  Martineau  is  his 
Prophet." 

"Feb.  28,  1851. — Before  I  begin  my  day's  work,  I 
must,  as  usual,  have  a  little  bit  of  talk  with  you.  Oh, 
what  a  lovely  morning  this  is !  I  walked  round  the 
garden  before  breakfast  with  Charlton,  and  went  with 
him  into  his  poultry-yard.  While  we  were  there  an 
egg  was  laid ;  then  Charlton  put  it  into  another  nest, 
to  show  me  what  one  of  the  hens  would  do.  She 
walked  in,  tucked  the  egg  under  her  chin,  carried  it 
out  a  little  way,  set  it  down,  and  looked  at  it.  Charlton 
says  they  carry  them  out  in  this  manner  sometimes  into 
the  middle  of  the  yard.  I  wonder  what  queer  thoughts 
are  in  their  brains  when  they  do  so." 

"Friday. — We  have  read  Miss  Martineau's  book.  It 
is,  to  my  mind,  the  most  awful  book  that  was  ever 
written  by  a  woman.  She  and  this  wise  Mr.  Atkinson 
dethrone  God,  abuse  Christ,  and  prefer  Mahometanism 
to  Christianity.  It  made  me  sick  and  ill  to  hear  them 
talk  of  Jesus  as  a  mere  clever  mesmerist.  To  me  it  is 
blasphemy.  To  show  you  how  evil  the  book  is,  I  must 


70  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  n. 

tell  you  that  Alfred  wanted  the  Inquisition  for  its  authors, 
and  I  sympathised  with  him.  It  will  make  good  people 
devilish  in  their  indignation  and  anger,  and  it  will  set 
all  the  poor  infidels  crowing  like  cocks  on  a  dunghill. 
And  only  think,  in  their  large  appendix,  in  which  they 
support  themselves  by  such  authorities  as  Hobbes,  Lord 
Bacon,  Sir  James  Mackintosh,  &c.,  I  should  see  a  long 
article  with  the  innocent  name  of  Mary  Howitt  to  it! 
It  is  the  account  of  the  Preaching  Epidemic  in  Sweden. 
Curious  as  it  is,  it  proves  nothing,  and  seems  merely 
introduced  to  make  me  out  an  infidel.  I  think  this  has 
provoked  your  father  more  than  anything  else. 

"Yes,  dearest,  Joanna  Baillie  is  dead.  I  am  glad 
you  had  that  kiss  from  her,  for  she  was  a  good 
woman." 

Throughout  the  year  1851  my  husband  and  I  were 
working  together  at  a  history  of  Scandinavian  literature. 
It  was  a  perfect  delight  to  me  to  translate  old  Norse 
ballads.  They  were  to  me  most  fascinating,  rude  and 
bloody  as  many  of  them  are,  and  possessing  a  forcible 
simplicity  such  as  we  had  earlier  met  with  in  the  German 
ballads  of  Uhland.  The  Danish  literature  we  found 
richer  than  the  Swedish,  both  in  quantity  and  variety. 
The  pristine  lore  of  Iceland  and  Norway  was  especially 
collected  and  translated  into  Danish.  We  were  en- 
chanted with  the  fable  or  saga  literature,  and  found 
again  almost  all  our  ancient  nursery  tales :  the  little 
old  woman  whose  petticoats  were  cut  shorter,  "Jack 
the  Giant  Killer,"  the  pig  that  would  not  go  over  the 
brig,  and  the  rest.  We  thus  gained  quite  a  respect  for 
those  familiar  tales,  which  the  wild,  stout  old  Danes 
brought  to  Britain  from  the  far  North.  Then  the  grand, 


1848-52.]  IN  ST.  JOHN'S  WOOD.  71 

quaint  wisdom  of  the  JSddas,  reminding  us  of  Ecclesi- 
astes,  such  as  the  sayings — "  It  is  hard  leaning  against 
another  man's  doorpost;"  "I  clothed  the  wooden  figures 
in  my  garments,  and  they  looked  like  heroes ;  whilst  I, 
the  unclothed  hero,  was  of  no  account ; "  or,  "  Go  often 
to  the  house  of  thy  friend,  for  weeds  soon  choke  up 
the  unused  path."  Finally,  how  worthy  of  perusal  the 
modern  dramatic  masterpieces  of  Oehlenschlager,  and 
the  charming  historical  novels  of  Ingemann,  the  Sir 
Walter  Scott  of  Denmark !  But  while  we  found  the 
Danish  richer  in  graceful,  poetic,  original  productions, 
the  Swedish  bore  off  the  palm  in  history,  epic  poetry, 
and  modern  fiction.  What,  indeed,  can  be  grander  than 
Tegner's  "Frithiof's  Saga"  or  Euneberg's  "  Hanna,"  and 
his  other  pathetic  poems  of  austere  Finland,  and  its  brave 
and  patient  children  ? 

In  our  domestic  circle  we  were  greatly  interested  in 
the  new  development  of  the  English  fine  arts.  The 
taste  of  the  age,  into  the  fourth  decade  of  this  century, 
had  been  for  what  appealed  as  pure,  noble,  and  har- 
monious to  the  mind  rather  than  to  the  eye  or  ear. 
The  general  public  was  wholly  uneducated  in  art.  By 
1849,  however,  the  improvement  due  to  the  exertions 
of  the  Prince  Consort,  the  Society  of  Arts,  and  other 
powers  began  to  be  felt ;  a  wonderful  impulse  to  human 
ingenuity  and  taste  being  given  in  the  preparation  of 
exhibits  for  the  World's  Fair,  to  be  held  in  London  in 
1851.  In  this  important  aesthetic  movement  Mr.  Owen 
Jones  was  a  prominent  teacher.  He  was  most  ably 
seconded  by  his  assistant,  Edward  La  Trobe  Bateman, 
our  young  friend,  who  was  endowed  with  an  exquisite 
feeling  and  skill  in  decorative  art,  extremely  rare  at  that 
time.  He  maintained  there  was  no  excuse  for  ugliness, 


?2  MARY  HO  WITT.  [CH.  n. 

as  beauty  properly  understood  was  cheap.  He  was 
an  intimate  associate  of  the  P.R.B.'s,  for  so  the  pre- 
Raphaelite  brothers  termed  themselves. 

This  famous  band  of  art-innovators  had  now  arisen, 
and  were  startling  the  world  by  the  novelty  and  oddity 
of  their  composition  and  colouring,  combined  with  a  mar- 
vellous fidelity  in  detail.  Connoisseurs  shook  their  heads, 
and  refused  to  believe  they  had  power  or  originality, 
and  that  they  would,  in  the  end,  come  out  all  right; 
declaring  if  they  had  real  genius  they  would  walk  in 
the  steps  of  their  great  contemporaries,  not  in  those  of 
painters  belonging  to  an  early  ignorant  age.  Besides, 
if  their  avowed  principle  was  correct,  then  authors 
should  write  in  the  language  of  Chaucer. 

When  Millais,  in  1851,  exhibited  at  the  Royal  Aca- 
demy his  "Mariana  in  the  Moated  Grange,"  "The  Dove 
returned  to  the  Ark,"  and  a  quaint  picture  of  two 
children  from  a  poem  by  Coventry  Patmore ;  and  Hoi- 
man  Hunt  some  works  equally  strange  and  naive  in 
treatment,  the  then  recently-appointed  President  of  the 
Royal  Academy,  Sir  Charles  Eastlake,  privately  said  it 
was  the  last  year  he  and  the  Hanging  Committee  would 
admit  this  outrageous  new  school  of  painting  to  their 
walls. 

It  was  the  day  of  small  things  to  those  now  world- 
famed,  highly-appreciated  artists,  and  I  remember  one 
of  the  most  distinguished  asking  us,  as  he  had  no 
banker,  to  cash  a  cheque  of  ,£14,  given  him  by  a  Man- 
chester gentleman  for  a  small  oil-painting. 

Earnest  and  severe  in  their  principles  of  art,  the 
young  reformers  indulged  in  much  jocundity  when  the 
day's  work  was  done.  They  were  wont  to  meet  at  ten,  cut 
jokes,  talk  slang,  smoke,  read  poetry,  and  discuss  art  till 


1848-52.]  IN  ST.  JOHN'S  WOOD.  -  73 

three  A.M.  They  spoke  of  The  Germ,  their  magazine, 
which  unfortunately  met  with  a  speedy  end,  as  if  pro- 
nounced with  a  "  g"  hard,  making  it  sound  like  the  "  g" 
in  girl,  and  found  endless  amusement  from  outsiders 
saying  to  them,  "Why  do  you  call  germ  thus?  But 
of  course  you  are  right,"  and  then  adopting  the  wrong 
pronunciation. 

In  July  1850  an  American  poet  and  painter,  named 
Buchanan  Eead,  then  on  his  way  to  study  art  at  Diissel- 
dorf,  Munich,  and  Florence,  spent  an  evening  at  our  house 
in  the  company  of  some  of  our  friends.  He  had  earlier 
sent  us  his  first  volume  of  poems  by  the  American 
publisher,  Mr.  Fields,  and  now  brought  us  the  second. 
But  in  spite  of  this  kind  attention,  he  seemed  such  a 
timid  nonentity  that  I  had  continually  to  jog  my  memory 
to  prevent  his  suffering  from  neglect.  A  few  days  later 
the  very  clever  and  intelligent  young  Irish  poet,  William 
Allingham,  who  had  been  present,  told  Holman  Hunt 
and  Dante  Kossetti  he  had  recently  met  a  number  of 
Americans  at  our  house.  Upon  this  Rossetti  replied, 
"By  the  bye,  some  of  those  Americans  write  glorious 
things.  I  have  come  across  some  lyrics  in  the  Phila- 
delphia Courier,  signed  'A  Miner,'  and  written  from 
Hazeldell,  on  the  Schuylkill,  as  fine  as  any  I  know.  I 
first  met  with  one  specimen,  and  was  so  delighted  with  it 
that  I  sent  to  Philadelphia  for  all  the  papers  containing 
the  poems  from  Hazeldell,  cut  them  out  and  pasted  them 
in  a  book  with  other  gems  of  poetry." 

Rossetti  forthwith  produced  a  big  book  of  poetry,  and 
began  reading  some  of  the  lyrics,  and  as  he  expressed 
the  deepest  obligations  to  the  unknown  writer,  Ailing- 
ham  volunteered  to  call  on  a  little  American,  who  had 
asked  him  to  do  so,  and  try  to  learn  from  him  who 


74  MARY  HOWITT.  [on.  11. 

was  the  splendid  poet  of  Hazeldell.  Accordingly,  Mr. 
Allingham  went  to  Mr.  Buchanan  Read,  and  told  him 
what  had  passed.  As  he  proceeded,  the  stranger's  face 
became  crimson  and  his  entire  frame  agitated.  "  I  am 
the  writer  of  these  poems,"  he  replied,  with  tears  in  his 

eyes. 

There  was,  of  course,  nothing  to  be  done,  after  this 
marvellous  discovery,  but  instantly  to  carry  off  the  prize 
to  Kossetti:  They  found  him  in  his  studio,  quite  ab- 
sorbed, working  from  a  model.  He  just  looked  up  as 
they  entered,  gave  a  sharp  little  nod,  and  went  on 
painting.  Allingham,  however,  walked  up  to  him  and 
said,  "  I  have  brought  you  the  poet  of  Hazeldell  bodily." 
Rossetti  dropped  his  brush,  and  with  a  face  glowing 
with  excitement,  cried,  "  You  don't  say  so  !  "  He  quite 
overwhelmed  the  bashful  stranger  with  his  joyous  ac- 
clamations, adding,  "How  delighted  Woolner  will  be, 
for  he  prizes  your  poems  as  I  do  !  " 

In  the  midst  of  the  jubilation  Holman  Hunt  entered. 
Now,  Read  had  a  most  intense  desire  to  see  Leigh  Hunt, 
and  this  being  divulged  to  the  two  pre-Raphaelites,  who 
were  busy,  they  deputed  Allingham  to  carry  their  visitor 
to  Leigh  Hunt,  and  see  that  he  was  treated  with  due 
honour.  Leigh  Hunt,  however,  was  out ;  so  they  re- 
turned to  Rossetti  and  Holman  Hunt,  and  spent  a  grand 
evening  together. 

The  next  time  Buchanan  Read  came  to  us,  we  had 
perused  his  fresh,  invigorating  poems,  and  were  de- 
lighted to  see  him  again.  And  now  the  ice  being 
broken,  we  found  him  to  be  a  very  generous,  grateful 
young  man,  possessing  much  original  power  and  fine 
discrimination  of  art.  He  had  been  painting  in  Ros- 
setti's  studio,  and  in  constant  intercourse  with  his  host, 


1848-52.]  IN  ST.  JOHN'S  WOOD.  75 

William  Rossetti,  Holman  Hunt,  and  Woolner.  As  the 
day  for  his  departure  to  Dtisseldorf  approached,  a  great 
gathering  of  all  the  P.E.B.'s  took  place,  to  commemorate 
his  last  evening  in  their  midst.  They  read  aloud  his 
poetry,  made  much  of  him,  and  told  such  capital  stories, 
that  some  of  them  rolled  on  the  floor  with  laughter. 
But  although  they  remained  together  until  four  or  five 
in  the  morning,  they  could  not  part  with  him.  He 
prolonged  his  stay,  and  as  he  absented  himself  in  their 
company  from  his  lodgings  at  Mr.  Chapman's,  in  the 
Strand,  it  was  reported  that  the  pre-Raphaelites  had 
carried  off  Read  in  a  chariot  of  fire. 

At  the  close  of  1870  we  met  him  once  more  in  Rome, 
where  he  was  then  residing  with  his  gentle  and  wealthy 
wife,  and  dispensing  hospitality  with  a  most  lavish 
hand.  We  were  present  at  a  grand  entertainment 
which  he  gave  in  honour  of  General  Sheridan,  whose 
bard  he  might  justly  be  called,  from  his  very  spirited 
and  popular  lay,  "  Sheridan's  Ride,"  having  heightened 
the  hero's  fame  in  America.  The  task  upon  his  vital 
powers  in  his  character  of  poet,  painter,  and  most 
sociable  host  led  to  the  constant  use  of  strong  stimu- 
lants, which  ruined  his  health.  It  caused  him,  in  1872, 
to  quit  Rome  for  his  native  land,  where  he  breathed  his 
last  the  day  after  stepping  ashore. 

One  brilliant  Sunday  morning,  in  the  spring  of  1851, 
my  husband  and  I,  walking  down  the  fields  from  Hamp- 
stead,  with  all  London  lying  before  us,  suddenly  saw  a 
wonderful  something  shining  out  in  the  distance  like 
a  huge  diamond,  the  true  "mountain  of  light."  It 
marked  the  first  Great  Exhibition  in  Hyde  Park,  a 
new  feature,  not  only  in  the  fine  view,  but  in  the 
history  of  the  world.  We  met  a  humble  Londoner 


76  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  n. 

evidently  on  his  way  to  Hampstead  Heath.  William 
said  to  him,  "Turn  round  and  look  at  the  Crystal 
Palace  shining  out  in  the  distance."  He  did  so,  and 
exclaiming,  "Oh!  thank  you,  sir;  how  wonderful!" 
stood  gazing  as  long  as  we  could  see  him. 

Some  reader  has,  without  doubt,  still  fresh  in  his 
recollection  the  gay,  animated  appearance  of  London 
in  this  spring  of  1851.  The  evidence  of  the  approach- 
ing Exhibition  was  apparent  on  every  side :  houses  and 
shops  cleaned  and  repainted,  hotels  for  "  All  Nations  " 
and  coffee-houses  of  the  "  Great  Exhibition "  opened 
right  and  left ;  huge  waggons,  piled  with  bales,  slowly 
moving  along  to  Hyde  Park ;  and,  standing  in  bewilder- 
ment at  the  corners  of  streets  and  by  omnibuses,  were 
foreigners,  with  big  beards  and  moustachios,  in  queer 
felt-hats  and  braided  coats ;  whilst  elegant  French- 
women, in  long  cloth  cloaks  with  picturesque  hoods, 
and  plain  drab  bonnets  with  rich  interior  trimmings  (a 
new  style  of  dress,  beautiful  from  its  severity),  might  be 
seen  in  Kegent  Street  and  Piccadilly,  acting  as  a  foil 
to  Oriental  magnates  in  gold  embroidery,  flowing  silk, 
and  gorgeous  cashmere. 

How  crowded,  that  spring,  was  the  private  view  of  the 
Portland  Gallery  by  lords,  ladies,  artists,  priests,  and 
distinguished  foreigners  !  J.  E.  Herbert,  R.A.,  grave  and 
thin  of  countenance  and  spare  of  form,  walked  bareheaded 
at  the  side  of  the  portly,  benign  Cardinal  Wiseman, 
and  with  reverence  pointed  out  various  pictures  to  him. 
Then  came  a  low  buzz  and  movement  of  excitement  in 
the  throng,  which  contained  the  Archbishop  of  York 
and  the  Bishop  of  London,  when  Cardinal  Wiseman, 
Dr.  Doyle,  Roman  Catholic  Bishop  of  Carlow,  Father 
Gavazzi,  and  Mazzini  were  seen  grouped  together 


1848-52.]  IN  ST.  JOHN'S  WOOD.  77 

examining  the  same  painting.  "How  very  odd!"  was 
the  general  remark ;  and  my  husband  added,  "  The  fine 
arts  may  truly  be  said  to  form  neutral  ground  !  " 

"  April  3,  1851. — I  should  like  you,  my  dear  Annie,  to 
bring  such  things  as  you  particularly  covet  to  have,  with 
you  from  Munich  ;  of  course,  a  statuette  of  Kaulbach  and 
a  crucifix.  Talking  of  a  crucifix  reminds  me  of  what 
that  young  Catholic  lady,  Miss  McCarthy,  a  niece  of 
Cardinal  Wiseman's,  told  Miss  Meteyard.  Herbert,  the 
painter,  who  also  lives  in  Church  Row,  Hampstead,  has 
taken  a  large  room  in  Hampstead  for  some  great  fresco- 
paintings  he  is  about.  He  requested  Miss  McCarthy  to 
pray  to  the  Virgin  and  to  some  good  saints  for  his 
success.  There  is  a  beautiful  religious  spirit  in  this 
that  I  like.  While  writing  this  last  sentence  the  dear 
little  blind  canary,  which  has  not  sung  a  note  for 
ten  days,  has  suddenly  burst  out  singing  like  a  small 
Jenny  Lind.  How  delighted  I  am !  and  so  will  the 
children  be." 

"  May  15,  1851. — We  are  very  glad,"  I  write  to  my 
sister,  "to  hear  of  the  various  visits  in  prospect.  The 
Crystal  Palace  is  a  wonderful  sight.  There  is  more 
poetry  in  and  about  it  than  the  human  heart  can  con- 
ceive. We  were  there  all  yesterday.  If  I  denied  my- 
self other  pleasures,  I  could  not  deny  myself  this.  I 
mean  to  go  once  a  week  at  least,  while  we  are  in 
London.  I  can  understand  how  you,  away  from  the 
scene,  should  not  perhaps  feel  the  enthusiasm  and  ex- 
citement of  it.  But  remember  that  such  a  meeting  of 
the  ends  of  the  earth  has  never  before  occurred. 

"  I  expect  Anna  Mary  the  first  week  in  June.    William 


?8  MARY  HO  WITT.  [CH.  n. 

goes  as  far  as  Heidelberg  to  meet  her.     When  she  arrives 
I  shall  be  almost  out  of  my  senses  with  joy." 

To  MY  HUSBAND  IN  HEIDELBERG. 

" May  27,  1851.— Our  Cambridge  day  was  wonderful. 
At  half-past  six  in  the  morning  I  was  at  the  Leigh  Smiths'. 
The  Pulskys,  Professor  Kinkel,  and  a  good  number  of 
Hungarians  with  various  outlandish  names  were  at  break- 
fast. I  had  already  taken  mine.  At  seven  we  set  out  in 
the  open  carriage  and  omnibus,  full  inside  and  out,  to  the 
Shoreditch  station.  There  we  met  the  remainder  of  our 
party,  excepting  Freiligrath,  whom  I  had  been  expected 
to  bring,  and  did  not  know  it ;  Lord  Dudley  Stuart,  who 
is  ill,  and  Monckton  Milnes,  who  is  either  just  married 
or  going  to  be,  I  don't  know  which.  We  were  a  party  of 
twenty-one.  What  introduction  there  was  of  one  bearded 
and  moustachioed  man  to  another,  and  of  these  to  the 
ladies !  What  a  jabber  of  French,  German,  Hungarian, 
and  English !  At  length  Mr.  Smith,  who  seemed  as 
happy  as  a  boy,  and  Willie  Smith  had  paid  the  fare  of  the 
whole  party ;  the  tickets  were  handed  to  every  one,  and  I 
was  asked  to  make  all  the  foreigners  about  me  under- 
stand that  these  tickets  were  to  be  kept,  as  they  were 
our  credentials  for  a  free  return.  We  took  our  seats  in 
carriages  especially  appropriated  to  our  party.  In  mine 
were  the  Pulskys,  husband  and  wife  ;  Professor  Kinkel ; 
a  Herr  KrofF  from  Prague,  who  has  lived  sixteen  years 
in  London,  a  nice  old  fellow,  to  whom  I  took  a  great 
fancy ;  Mrs.  Parkes,  and  myself.  We  were  as  merry  as 
so  many  larks.  We  flew  past  the  stations,  and  only 
stopped  for  about  three  minutes  at  Bishop's  Stortford. 
Before  ten  we  were  at  Cambridge,  and  there  were  met  by 
a  Trinity  College  omnibus  and  carriages,  sent,  as  we  were 


1848-52.]  IN  ST.  JOHN'S  WOOD.  79 

informed,  by  'Mr.  Smith,  of  Jesus,  to  take  us  to  the 
"  Bull."  '  At  the  '  Bull '  we  found  Ben,  who  in  the  first 
place,  led  us  through  some  of  the  College  courts,  and  gave 
us  a  hasty  glimpse  of  beautiful  mediaeval  buildings,  lovely 
avenues  of  limes,  picturesque  cloisters,  gateways,  halls, 
and  chapels,  with  smooth  lawns,  fountains,  glimpses  of 
meadows  golden  with  buttercups,  and  lines  of  drooping 
leafy  trees,  till  we  were  all  wild  with  admiration  and 
delight.  All  I  wanted  was  you  and  Annie !  Well, 
having  had  these  glimpses  of  Cambridge,  part  of  us  went 
to  Ben's  rooms  in  Jesus  College,  and  the  remainder  to 
the  '  Bull '  to  have  breakfast.  What  a  breakfast  we  had  ! 
Ben's  friends  were  still  all  at  church ;  but  presently,  just 
at  the  right  moment,  when  he  was  gone  to  look  after  the 
folks  at  the  '  Bull,'  and  when  we  had  drained  his  big 
coffee-pot  and  wanted  more,  in  came  three  young  fellows 
in  caps  and  gowns,  Chinnery  of  Keys  (Cains),  Mullins 
of  John's,  and  Cowan  of  Trinity.  Then  there  was  an 
increase  of  life  and  activity.  '  Oh !  you  want  coffee, 
do  you  ? '  and  away  flew  Mullins,  and  brought  down 
somebody  else's  big  coffee-pot.  Then  in  rushed  a 
new  undergraduate  with  his  coffee-pot,  and  there  was 
plenty.  Next  water  was  wanted ;  Herr  Kroff  must 
have  a  glass  of  water.  Water  was  not  to  be  had,  but 
Barbara  knew  where  her  brother's  soda-water  was.  So 
down  she  delved  into  a  cupboard,  and  up  came  bottle 
after  bottle ;  some  was  soda-water,  some  was  ginger- 
beer.  The  gentlemen  drank  both  out  of  a  huge  silver 
tankard  with  a  glass  bottom.  Oh !  if  you  could  have 
seen  the  fun,  freedom,  and  jollity  of  those  bearded, 
moustachioed  men,  who  had  been  students  up  and  down 
in  Germany,  it  would  have  delighted  you.  Pulsky  put 
on  Ben's  gown  and  cap,  and  enacted  a  respectable 


8o 


MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  n. 


English  student,  '  Smith,  of  Jesus.'  Every  one  was  full 
of  fun,  and  what  roars  of  laughter  there  were !  When 
full  justice  had  been  done  to  the  pickled  salmon,  ducks, 
fowls,  tongue,  and  pigeon-pie,  we  joined  the  rest  of  the 
party  in  the  court  of  'King's,'  and  went  the  round  of 
every  college  ;  each  being  alike,  yet  different ;  all  beauti- 
ful, all  rich ;  a  union  of  architectural  grandeur  and 
picturesque  effect  with  the  verdure  of  lawns,  meadows, 
and  lovely  trees.  At  half-past  three  we  went  to  after- 
noon-service in  King's,  the  finest  chapel  in  Cambridge. 
I  cannot  tell  you  how  exquisite  it  is.  Then  all  as- 
sembled at  the  'Bull,'  and  our  one-and- twenty,  with 
six  handsome  young  undergraduates  added,  sat  down  to 
a  table  covered  with  excellent  and  delicious  dishes.  You 
can  imagine  the  talking,  laughter,  and  wit.  After  this 
came  a  little  speech  from  '  Uncle  Adams,'  who,  in  the 
absence  of  Mr.  Smith  and  Ben,  returned  thanks  to  the 
German  and  Hungarian  ladies  and  gentlemen  who  had 
honoured  his  brother  and  nephew  with  their  company 
that  day,  making  an  allusion  to  the  struggle  for  liberty, 
which,  though  defeated,  was  not  lost,  and  so  on.  Pulsky 
acknowledged  the  compliment  in  a  little  speech,  in 
which  he  entangled  himself,  and  was  ^helped  out  by 
his  wife.  She  laughed  very  merrily,  and  with  tears  in 
her  eyes,  for  he  was  speaking  of  poor  Kossuth.  As 
she  had  laughed  at  her  husband's  break-down,  she  must, 
as  punishment,  make  a  speech.  Therefore  the  'Ladies 
of  Hungary'  was  proposed.  A  crimson  flush  came  over 
her  face.  She  took  her  glass  in  her  hand,  and  in  a  very 
few  words  expressed  her  thanks,  and  called  upon  the 
ladies  of  England  to  demand  the  liberation  of  Kossuth. 
Very  soon  the  carnages  were  announced.  So,  with  many 
most  cordial  farewells  to  the  group  of  friendly  under- 


1848-52.]  IN  ST.  JOHN'S  WOOD.  81 

graduates,  we  took  our  seats  again  in  the  vehicles — a 
little  varying  the  arrangement  of  people,  of  course. 
We  reached  London  a  quarter  before  eight.  Again 
the  Smiths'  omnibus  and  carriage,  and  as  many  cabs 
as  were  needful,  were  in  waiting ;  and  all  who  did  not 
incline  to  go  to  supper  in  Blandford  Square  were  sent 
home  to  their  own  doors. 

"  Barbara  came  yesterday  to  know  how  I  felt  after 
'  all  the  fatigue.'  She  says  it  seems  to  have  put  new 
life  into  her  father.  What  a  fine  thing  it  is  to  be  able 
to  give  pleasure  on  a  magnificent  scale  ! 

"  Kinkel  could  not  imagine  much  hard  study  in  rooms 
'  so  comfortable  '  as  we  saw  at  Cambridge.  No  doubt 
he  contrasted  them  in  his  mind  with  the  bare  floor, 
wooden  chairs,  the  high-standing  wooden  desk,  and 
the  bed  in  the  same  room  of  the  foreign  university 
student." 

I  had  soon  the  bliss  of  having  my  art-student  home 
from  Munich.  With  her  we  doubly  enjoyed  the  sight 
of  the  productions,  wealth,  workmanship,  and  of  people 
of  all  regions  of  the  world  assembled  in  the  Crystal 
Palace.  It  was  to  us  the  veritable  "  House  of  Fame  " 
foreseen  by  Chaucer  four  hundred  and  seventy  years 
before. 

On  the  last  day  of  September  I  returned  home,  in 
advance  of  my  family,  from  Southend,  where  we  had  been 
spending  our  autumn  holiday.  On  Monday  morning, 
October  2,  1851,  I  write  to  "My  beloved  ones  all! 
greeting. 

''What  a  getting  on  board  we  had  !  The  boat  tossed  and 
heaved  ;  everybody  was  sick  ;  it  poured  with  rain  ;  it  blew  ; 
there  was  such  a  crowd  of  people.  Yet  I  enjoyed  it  all. 

VOL.  II.  F 


82  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  n. 

"  When  we  came  to  Greenwich  an  old  grandmother  and 
a  little  lad,  who  had  been  seated  next  me,  left  the  boat. 
'  Why  don't  you  go  too  ? '  I  asked  a  little  girl  in  a  blue 
veil,  with  a  red  bundle,  who  had  seemed  to  belong  to 
them,  and  yet  remained.  '  I  belong  to  nobody  here,'  she 
said.  '  I  am  going  to  London.'—'  Where  do  you  come 

from  ? ' '  From  Sheerness  ;  but  1  came  from  Portsmouth 

last  week.  I  have  come  to  be  with  some  relations  at 
Sheerness  for  twelve  months.' — 'And  so  now  you  are 
going  to  London  ? ' — '  Yes  ;  to  stay  at  my  uncle's  till 
Monday.'— '  Where  does  he  live?' — 'I  don't  know.'- 
'How,  then,  will  you  find  him?' — 'He  will  meet  me.' 
— '  Where  are  you  to  get  out  ? ' — '  At  London.' — '  But 
it  must  be  some  particular  place  ;  is  it  Blackwall  ? ' — '  I 
don't  know.' — '  Is  it  Hungerford  ? ' — '  I  don't  know ;  it  is 
London  !  Are  you  going  to  London  ? ' 

"  I  cannot  tell  you  how  my  heart  pitied  this  little  forlorn 
creature.  'Yes,  I  am  going  to  London,'  said  I.  'But 
now  tell  me  about  your  uncle.  What  is  he,  and  what  is 
his  name  ? ' — '  He  is  a  painter,  and  his  name  is  Bustle. 
I  know  he  will  meet  me.  He  made  an  appointment.' — 
'  Well,'  said  I,  '  we'll  see.  You  shall  stay  near  me,  and 
I  will  inquire  at  the  different  places  as  we  stop  if  Mr. 
Bustle  is  waiting.  So  you  come  from  Portsmouth.  Do 
your  parents  live  there  ? '  (I  was  so  afraid  of  this  ques- 
tion lest  they  should  be  dead,  but  she  was  not  in  mourn- 
ing.)— 'Yes,  they  live  there.  My  father  is  a  dentist,  and 
my  name  is  Ellen  Tarrett.'— '  And  is  your  uncle  a  kind, 
good  man  ?  And  are  you  sure  he  will  meet  you  ? ' — 
'  Quite  sure ;  he  came  down  to  Sheerness  and  made  an 
appointment.' 

"  Poor,  small,  trusting  child  !      It  seemed  frightful  to 
me   that   she    should    thus    be   turned   adrift   amongst 


1848-52.]  IN  ST.  JOHN'S  WOOD.  83 

strangers.  She  was  so  pale,  thin,  and  meek-looking,  I 
was  full  of  anxiety  for  her.  Still,  she  seemed  to  have 
faith  in  Mr.  Bustle,  though  she  did  not  know  where  he 
lived.  I  thought  it  was  no  use  distressing  her  with  my 
fears,  for  if  by  the- end  of  the  journey  she  was  never  met, 
I  should  take  her  home  with  me.  It  was  now  quite 
dark ;  we  were  entering  London  ;  it  poured  with  rain. 
The  whole  fore-deck  was  crowded  with  hop-pickers, 
many  of  them  Irish ;  such  a  dismal,  squalid,  wet  crew. 
I  thought,  if  this  poor  child  fell  into  their  hands  they 
might  steal  her  bundle  and  murder  her.  I  went  and 
found  a  good  fellow  belonging  to  the  boat,  told  him 
about  the  little  girl,  and  begged  him  at  every  place 
where  the  boat  stopped  to  shout  out  an  inquiry  for  Mr. 
Bustle.  Poor  little  Ellen  and  I  stood  together  under 
my  umbrella  looking  out.  Presently  we  came  to  London 
Bridge.  Down  went  the  steam-chimney.  '  Oh  ! '  she  ex- 
claimed, '  this  is  London.  My  aunt  said  I  should  see  the 
chimney  go  down.'  I  wish  I  could  give  you  an  idea  of 
the  miserable  hop-pickers  that  were  now  thronging  out 
of  the  boat — the  smell  of  wet  rags,  the  squalling 
children  on  the  women's  backs,  the  shouts,  the  swear- 
ing, the  jabbering  in  Irish,  the  calls  for  '  Mrs.  Baker,' 
for  'Betsy,'  and  for  'Jim.'  Little  Ellen  and  I  were 
driven  on  by  this  crowd.  '  Is  Mr.  Bustle  there  ? '  shouted 
the  trustworthy  sailor.  No  reply.  The  throng  of  Irish 
was  getting  thinner.  I  was  growing  quite  desperate. 
'  Is  Mr.  Bustle  there  ? '  again  shouted  he,  and  a  voice 
from  under  an  umbrella  replied,  '  Is  Miss  Tarrett  there  ? ' 
I  felt  such  a  thrill  of  joy.  '  Yes,  she  is,'  I  said.  'Now, 
go,  little  dear ;  I  am  so  glad  ! '  The  good  sailor  led  her 
along  the  plank,  and  I  saw  her  carried  off,  red  bundle 
and  all,  under  a  big  umbrella." 


84 


MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  n. 


To  Miss  WILKINSON,  ON  HER  MARRIAGE. 

"Nov.  i,  1851. — I  meant  to  have  sent  an  epistle  of 
family  greeting  to  meet  you  at  your  new  home  on  October 
10 ;  but,  unfortunately,  a  whole  crowd  of  visitors — rela- 
tives and  foreigners — among  whom  is  Miss  Bremer,  kept 
me  so  wholly  occupied  the  earlier  part  of  the  month, 
that  I  neglected  everything,  excepting  the  immediate  duty 
of  the  hour  and  the  day.  Then,  when  the  crowd  had  a 
little  dispersed,  I  was  obliged  to  turn  all  my  thoughts 
and  give  up  all.  my  time  to  prepare  what  was  needful 
for  my  daughter's  return  to  Munich.  She  is  now  gone. 
Everybody,  I  believe,  is  gone  with  the  exception  of  Miss 
Bremer ;  and  I  begin  to  atone,  if  possible,  for  all  my 
apparent  neglect  and  actual  shortcomings.  It  was,  my 
dear  Mrs.  Gaunt,  only  apparent  neglect,  for  indeed  we 
all  thought  and  spoke  of  you,  and  wished  you  as  much 
happiness  as  we  felt  you  merited  ;  that  is  a  large  share, 
we  assure  you. 

"Accept  our  best  wishes,  therefore,  and  let  me  con- 
gratulate Mr.  Gaunt  on  having,  according  to  my  ideas, 
taken  into  his  house  a  spirit  as  bright  and  as  cordial  as 
daylight  itself.  May  you  long  live  together,  and  be  able, 
with  every  passing  year,  to  say  that  your  lives  have  been 
made  still  better  and  happier  through  each  other.  Our 
most  kind  remembrance  to  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Smiles,  when 
you  see  them." 

In  September  1849  Fredrika  Bremer  first  stayed  with 
us,  on  her  way  to  the  United  States  and  Cuba,  whither, 
seized  by  the  spirit  of  an  old  Viking,  she  was  journeying 
at  the  age  of  forty-seven.  She  was  short  and  plump 
in  figure,  and  simple  in  her  attire,  which  was  made 
picturesque  by  a  cap  of  a  conventual  shape,  trimmed 


1 848-52.]  IN  ST.  JOHN'S  WOOD.  85 

with  deep  lace ;  and  she  won  our  affection  by  her  warm- 
heartedness and  freedom  from  ostentation. 

From  America  she  wrote  to  me  that  the  "  sun  of  the 
Western  world  had  developed  in  her  many  germs,  that 
had  been  lying  snow-covered  for  dozens  of  years,  but 
which,  under  its  influence,  began  to  grow  and  expand, 
making  her  feel  that  her  remaining  span  of  life  would 
barely  suffice  for  the  ripening  of  what  then  filled  her 
soul." 

'  In  the  autumn  of  1851  she  again  passed  through 
England.  Her  religious  and  social  views  had,  in  America, 
been  materially  influenced.  An  intense  desire  animated 
her  to  aid  in  the  liberation  of  every  oppressed  soul ; 
above  all,  to  rescue  her  country-women  from  the  dark 
and  narrow  sphere  alloted  them ;  and  Sweden  listened  to 
her  pleadings  for  woman. 

To  MY  DAUGHTER  IN  MUNICH. 

"Nov.  1851. — It  is  quite  true  that  Miss  Bremer's 
beloved  sister  Agatha  is  dead.  It  was  yesterday  in  the 
Swedish  papers.  She  does  not  yet  know  it.  We  were 
at  her  evening  party  last  evening,  and  the  Swedes  present 
were  speaking  about  it  amongst  themselves.-  Some  of 
them  wanted  me  to  give  her  an  intimation  of  it  before 
she  leaves  for  Sweden ;  but  I  cannot.  I  do  not  wish  to 
be  in  any  way  a  bird  of  ill  omen  to  her.  But  how  sad 
it  is !  Jenny  Lind's  secretary,  a  very  upright  young 
Swede,  travels  with  her ;  and  the  thought  of  the  sorrow 
awaiting  her  makes  him  quite  miserable." 

In  the  self- same  year  of  the  Great  Exhibition  in  Hyde 
Park,  gold  was  found  in  Australia.  The  marvellous 
gold-romance  of  California  had  now  begun  in  our  own 


86 


MAKY  HOWITT.  [CH.  n. 


colonies.  It  seemed,  in  a  period  of  over-population 
and  misery  in  Europe,  that  gold,  the  great  lure  of  the 
human  heart,  had  been  revealed  in  vast  continents  to 
call  out  people  thither  with  a  voice  against  which  there 
was  no  appeal.  Nothing  was  talked  of  but  Australia, 
and  the  wonderful  inducements  offered  to  emigration. 

My  husband,  who  was  a  good  sailor,  and  needed  a 
real  change  from  his  hard  brain-work,  suddenly  resolved 
on  a  trip  to  the  new  El  Dorado,  where  he  should  once 
more  see  his  brother,  Dr.  Godfrey  Howitt,  who  was 
successfully  established  with  his  family  in  Melbourne. 
He  should  also  learn  what  opening  there  might  be  on 
the  Australian  continent  for  our  two  sons,  who  were  to 
accompany  him.  Anna  Mary  permanently  returned  from 
Munich  to  see  our  beloved  ones  off.  They  left  us  in 
June  1852,  R.  H.  Home,  the  author  of  "Orion,"  sailing 
with  them  in  the  Kent.  We  should  have  felt  the  separa- 
tion appalling  but  for  the  wholesome  panacea  of  work. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE  HERMITAGE. 
1852-1857. 

OUR,  first  occupation  after  the  departure  of  my  husband 
and  sons  for  Victoria  was  moving  from  the  Avenue  Road 
to  Highgate.  I  had  once  hoped  that  Andrew  Marvell's 
half-timbered,  very  picturesque  cottage  there  might  have 
been  our  home.  It  proved,  however,  at  the  time  to  be 
too  dilapidated  to  be  rented  with  economy  or  prudence. 

In  the  meanwhile  Edward  Bateman  had  taken,  on  lease, 
The  Hermitage,  situated  at  Highgate,  on  the  West  Hill, 
a  little  above  Millfield  Lane.  The  premises  consisted  of 
a  small  three-storeyed  house  and  a  lesser  tenement,  The 
Hermitage  proper,  containing  a  room  on  the  ground-floor, 
and  an  upper  chamber  reached  by  an  outside  rustic  stair- 
case and  gallery ;  the  whole  covered  with  a  thick  roof  of 
thatch,  and  buried  in  an  exuberant  growth  of  ancient  ivy. 
It  and  the  dwelling-house  stood  in  the  midst  of  a  long 
sloping  garden,  and  were  hidden  from  the  road  by  palings, 
fine  umbrageous  elms,  and  a  lofty  ash  which  retained  the 
name  of  "  Nelson's  Tree,"  from  the  famous  admiral  hav- 
ing climbed  it  as  a  boy.  When  to  let,  the  landlord,  in 
order  to  beautify  the  place,  had  painted  the  interior  wood- 
work of  the  house  dark  green,  and  introduced  bad  stained- 
glass  and  grotto-work  into  the  cottage.  Notwithstanding 
these  gimcrack  attempts  at  rusticity,  Mr.  Bateman,  per- 
ceiving the  capabilities,  had  immediately  secured  it,  and 


88  MARY  HOWITT.  [en.  in. 

then,  under  his  skilful  hand  and  eye,  transformed  it 
into  a  most  unique,  quaint  and  pleasant  abode,  the  fit 
home  for  a  painter.  He  had  temporarily  located  Dante 
Gabriel  llossetti  in  The  Hermitage,  when,  determining  to 
go  to  Victoria,  where  his  cousin,  Mr.  La  Trobe,  was  Gover- 
nor, he  transferred  the  lease  to  us.  Woolner  and  Bernhard 
Smith  were  his  fellow-travellers,  and  it  was  agreed  that  on 


ANDREW  MAKVELL'S  COTTAGE  AT  HIGHGATE. 


the  following  i2th  of  April  the  P.R.B.'s  in  England  were 
to  meet  together  to  make  sketches  and  write  poems  for 
the  P.RB.'s  in  Australia,  who  were  simultaneously  to 
meet  and  forward  a  Mercury  of  their  proceedings  home. 

Whilst  The  Hermitage  was  being  transformed,  and  the 
voyage  of  the  pre-Raphaelites  still  in  embryo,  I  remember 
walking  one  March  evening,  at  six  o'clock,  with  Woolner 
along  Millfield  Lane.  After  we  passed  the  house  once  occu- 


1852-57-] 


THE  HERMITAGE. 


pied  by  Charles  Mathews,  the  comedian,  but  later  much 
enlarged,  we  witnessed  a  splendid  sunset  effect.  The 
western  sky  was  filled  with  a  pale,  golden  light,  fading  into 
violet,  then  blue,  and  just  in  the  violet  hung  a  thin  cres- 
cent moon,  with  one  large  star  above  her.  Woolner  could 
not  sufficiently  admire  this  exquisite  poem  of  Nature,  and 
I  perceived  that  he  was  not  only  a  sculptor,  but  a  poet. 


CHARLES  MATHEWS'  HOUSE  IN  MILLFIELD  LANE. 


For  upwards  of  two  years  my  daughters  and  I  dwelt 
alone  at  The  Hermitage,  busily  occupied  in  writing,  paint- 
ing, and  studying  ;  our  anxious  hearts  filled  with  the 
deepest  solicitude  for  our  dear  absent  ones,  who  were 
bravely  encountering  deprivation  and  toil.  We  could 
only  remember  that  God  was  with  them  as  much  in  the 
Bush  as  in  a  civilised  land.  It  is  not  hard  work,  but  the 
gnawing  pain  of  the  mind  that  kills ;  and  the  memory  of 


9o  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  HI. 

those  days  of  suspense,  aggravated  by  the  very  defective 
postal  communication  with  Australia,  brings  with  it  a 
most  grateful  sense  of  the  extreme  kindness  and  delicate 
consideration  of  our  opposite  neighbour,  the  Baroness, 
then  Miss  Burdett-Coutts.  She  constantly  invited  us  to 
Holly  Lodge,  and  thus  afforded  us  change  of  thought  and 
relaxation  in  her  highly  cultivated  circle. 

Some  of  the  chief  incidents  of  this  period  are  given  in 
the  subjoined  extracts  from  letters. 

To  MY  HUSBAND. 

"Sept.  3,  1852.— I  drive  on  with  my  work  like  some 
thing  blind  and  deaf;  listening,  and  seeing  nothing  but 
the  one  object,  work.  Sometimes  Annie  and  I  sit  to- 
gether in  the  same  room,  each  at  our  table,  for  an  hour 
or  two,  never  speaking.  Then  we  say,  '  How  quiet  and 
pleasant  it  is,  and  what  a  holy  and  soothing  influence 
there  is  in  this  blessed  work  ! '  I  have  not  yet  finished 
the  first  volume  of  Miss  Bremer's  travels  in  America. 

"We  have  had  quite  an  incursion  of  people  here  of 
late,  and  a  whole  American  family  are  coming  to  drink 
tea  with  us  to-morrow.  We  were  just  going  to  bed  one 
night  at  our  usual  hour  of  ten,  when  a  ring  came  at  the 
gate.  The  dogs  barked  ferociously,  and  behold !  it  was 
William  Allingham.  He  had  heard  we  were  ill  from  the 
Brownings,  and  so  was  come  to  inquire  after  us.  We 
sat  talking  with  him  till  half-past  twelve.  We  enjoyed  it 
very  much,  and  asked  him  to  come  to  us  the  next  day. 
So  he  came.  It  was  just  in  the  midst  of  the  terrible 
thunder  and  lightning  that  we  have  had  here  of  late, 
and  this  led  him  to  tell  us  what  was  just  then  deeply 
interesting  a  number  of  people  in  London ;  the  Brown- 
ings among  the  rest. 


1852-57-]  THE  HERMITAGE.  91 

"  There  is  in  Holborn  a  respectable  tradesman,  who  is  a 
firm  believer  in  spiritual  influences,  in  astrology,  mesmer- 
ism, &c.  This  man  has  known  for  long  that  the  house 
in  which  he  lives  is  haunted  by  evil  spirits  and  doomed 
to  an  ill  end.  He  discovered  that,  many  years  ago,  a 
murder  had  been  committed  in  it.  He  consulted  clair- 
voyants about  it,  and  all  foresaw  that  a  fearful  explosion 
would  take  place.  He  had  six  or  seven  letters  from  clair- 
voyants in  different  parts  of  the  country,  warning  him  of 
the  impending  danger,  that  the  house  would  fall  and 
burst  the  gas-pipes,  the  gas  would  explode,  and  terrible 
loss  of  life  ensue.  The  man,  who  is  apparently  most 
sensible  and  intelligent,  is  personally  known  to  Eobert 
Browning,  but  his  name  is  not  to  be  revealed,  because  it 
would  injure  him  in  his  business.  During  one  of  the 
last  storms,  this  tradesman  and  a  friend  of  his  saw  from 
a  distance  the  lightning  apparently  concentrate  itself 
over  the  house,  and  a  red  tongue  as  of  fire  rise  up  from 
the  roof.  They  believed  it  must  be  burning.  However,  no 
harm  was  done.  William  Allinsrham  asked  me  to  note 

O 

down  that  it  was  generally  foreseen  that  the  explosion 
was  to  occur  between  midnight  and  four  o'clock  the 
following  Sunday  morning.  That  was  a  fortnight  ago 
to-day,  and  nothing  has  occurred.  It  was,  however,  a 
curious  circumstance,  which,  when  told  us,  interested  us 
much." 

"Dec.  3,  1852. — The  Queen  has  read  'Uncle  Tom's 
Cabin,'  as  well  as  all  her  subjects ;  ehe  and  the  Duchess 
of  Sutherland,  and  others  of  the  good  and  great  about 
the  Palace,  have  determined  to  make  a  demonstration  in 
favour  of  the  slave.  Her  Majesty  in  her  own  person  can 
do  nothing ;  therefore  this  movement  comes  from  the 


92 


MAEY  HOWITT.  [CH.  in. 


Duchess  of  Sutherland.  From  her  I  received  an  invita- 
tion to  meet  a  number  of  distinguished  women  at  Stafford 
House,  to  take  into  consideration  an  address  from  the 
women  of  England  to  the  women  in  America  on  the 
subject  of  slavery.  I  was  quite  appalled,  and  felt  I  had 
not  a  bonnet  fit  to  go  in ;  however,  I  got  a  new  bonnet, 
and  went. 

"  People  were  all  most  kind  and  polite.  Lady  Shaftes- 
bury  told  me  that  her  children  had  my  juvenile  books  ; 
and  the  Duchess  of  Sutherland  and  her  daughter,  the 
Duchess  of  Argyll,  were  particularly  friendly.  To  my 
surprise,  I  found  my  name  put  down  on  a  committee  of 
women,  which  consists  of  Lady  Shaftesbury,  the  Hon. 
Mrs.  Kinnaird,  myself  (I  give  the  names  as  they  stand), 
Mrs.  Sutherland,  and  Mrs.  Grainger. 

"  The  Duchess  read  a  very  interesting  letter  from  Mrs. 
Stowe  to  the  Earl  of  Carlisle.  She  seems  delighted  at 
this  movement  in  favour  of  the  slave  ;  and  certainly  it  is 
very  fine,  originating  with  our  Queen,  as  it  does,  no  doubt. 

"Speaking  of  'Uncle  Tom's  Cabin/  I  must  not  forget 
to  tell  you  that  the  sheets  of  this  work,  I  believe  before 
its  publication  in  America,  were  offered  for  ^5  to  Charles 
Gilpin.  He  would  not  buy  them.  Then  they  were 
offered  to  Mr.  Bogue,  then  to  Mr.  Bohn,  and  rejected  by 
both.  They  were  bought  in  the  end  by  Routledge.  Now 
there  are  at  least  twenty  different  publishers'  editions, 
Bohn's  and  Bogue's  among  the  rest ;  and  it  is  supposed 
that  upwards  of  one  million  copies  have  been  sold  in 
England  alone." 

"Dec.  8,  1852. — Charles  Gilpin  and  George  Alexander 
have  come  over  to  me  in  solemn  deputation  from  the 
Anti-Slavery  Society  to  remonstrate  against  the  Duchess 


1852-57-]  THE  HERMITAGE.  93 

of  Sutherland's  Address  to  the  American  Women.  But 
though  I  regret  one  or  two  expressions  in  the  Stafford 
House  Address,  I  yet  adhere  to  it  and  its  party." 

"  Feb.  22,  1853. — I  was  yesterday  at  our  Committee  for 
the  Ladies'  Address  to  their  American  Sisters  on  Slavery. 
There  will  be  400,000  signatures,  it  is  expected.*  I  had 
a  good  deal  of  talk  with  Lord  Shaftesbuiy.  He  is  one  of 
the  kindest,  strongest,  most  agreeable  of  men.  '  Uncle 
Tom '  is  being  translated  into  Russian  by  order  of  the 
Czar ;  it  is  said  preparatory  to  an  abolition  of  serfdom. 
I  went  to  the  Committee  with  this  news,  but  all  thought 
it  too  good  to  be  true.  Then  came  Lord  Shaftesbury  and 
confirmed  it.  Miss  Bremer  writes  beautifully  on  slavery. 
She  seems  to  think  that  a  spirit  of  emancipation  is  grow- 
ing up  in  the  South  itself.  This  seems  proved  by  three 
large  slaveholders  having — it  is  said  in  consequence  of 
'  Uncle  Tom  ' — emancipated  all  their  slaves. 

"  How  wonderful  is  the  effect  of  that  book !  Lord 
Shaftesbuiy,  who  is  just  returned  from  France  and  Italy, 
said  that  '  in  Italy  it  is  devoured ;  but  that  the  Jesuits, 
to  make  it  suit  their  purpose,  have  introduced  the 
Church  instead  of  Christ.  Thus  poor  Uncle  Tom,  the 
best  Christian  almost  that  ever  lived,  is  made  to  preach 
for  the  Jesuits  ! '  He  also  mentioned  that  the  great  prize 
ox  in  Paris  this  Christmas  was  called  'Uncle  Tom.' 
What  people  will  do  with  Mrs.  Stowe,  when  she  comes 
in  May,  I  cannot  tell.  I  expect  she  will  be  welcomed  as 
no  crowned  head  ever  was." 

"March  i,  1853. — The  P.R.B.'s  are  most  anxious  for 
news  of  their  Australian  travellers.  Rossetti  was  up  here 
on  Sunday,  and  very  desirous  to  learn  whether  we  had 

*  They  amounted  to  576,000. 


94  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  HI. 

received  tidings,  as  neither  the  friends  of  Woolner  nor  of 
Bernhard  Smith  have  received  any.  You  may  imagine 
with  what  eagerness  after  Australian  news  and  news  of 
vessels  the  Times  is  consulted  each  evening. 

"We  are  now  busily  correcting  the  proofs  of  Enne- 
moser's  '  History  of  Magic.'  What  industrious  people  you 
and  Alfred  were  to  translate  all  that  mass  of  MS.  on  your 
voyage.  What  a  curious  work  it  is!  M.  Reclus,  a 
French  acquaintance  of  Miss  Acton's,  was  here  the  other 
evening.  He  knows  much  about  magic  and  occult  things, 
and  is  acquainted  with  many  French  and  German  books 
on  the  subject.  Is  it  not  singular  the  widespread  belief 
in  such  agencies?  Rossetti  told  us  the  other  evening 
some  most  remarkable  ghost-stories." 

"March  14,  1853. — I  had  a  dream  three  nights  ago, 
which  has  made  me  very  unhappy  ;  and  yet,  in  a  manner, 
I  can  account  for  it.  I  was  thinking  on  Friday  night  of 
dear  Claude's  death — the  next  day  being  my  birthday, 
and  his  into  the  better  life.  In  the  night,  then,  I  dreamed 
that  a  letter  came  from  Alfred.  It  seemed  to  contain 
three  bills  of  credit,  but  the  only  words  I  saw  in  the  letter 
were,  '  My  father  is  very  ill'  I  woke  in  an  agony  of 
heart  such  as  no  words  can  describe.  The  misery  of  the 
dream  has  not  ceased  yet.  I  do  all  I  can  to  reason  with 
myself,  to  say  that  it  was  caused  by  my  thinking  of  poor 
Claude's  last  hours.  And  I  hope  it  was.  God  help  us 
and  preserve  us  to  each  other !  I  know  that  you  all  are 
exposed  to  hardships  and  dangers  of  many  kinds.  They 
rise  up  before  my  imagination  and  make  me  very  un- 
happy. I  can  do  no  more  than  keep  a  prayer  in  my 
heart,  which  is  uttered  many,  many  times  a  day :  '  Oh 
God !  protect  my  beloved  ones." 


1852-57-]  THE  HERMITAGE.  95 

"March  20. — What  a  dreadful  time  we  have  had! 
Yesterday  was  the  last  grand  meeting  at  Stafford  House. 
On  arriving  I  had  only  spoken  to  the  Duchess  of  Suther- 
land and  Lord  Shaftesbury,  when  Mrs.  Carpenter  came  up 
to  me  and  asked,  '  What  is  this  about  Mr.  Howitt  in  the 
Times  ? '  All  the  strength  went  out  of  me.  I  said,  '  I  do 
not  know ;  what  is  it?'  She  then  told  me  Dr.  Carpen- 
ter had  read  something  about  an  accident  to  your  cart.  I 
sat  and  listened  to  the  proceedings  of  the  meeting,  hardly 
hearing  a  word.  The  Duchess  talked  to  me  most  kindly, 
singling  me  out,  as  it  were.  I  had  no  pleasure  even  in 
such  kindness.  The  people  were  allowed  to  see  the 
rooms  after  the  meeting ;  but  I  did  not  care  for  it,  and 
sat  down  in  a  window,  amid  all  the  grandeur,  sick  with 
apprehension. 

"Annie  was  as  much  alarmed  as  I  was  when  I  came 
home  and  told  her.  Long  and  dreadful  were  the  couple 
of  hours  that  went  on  till  the  paper  came.  We  read 
then  the  letter  from  an  Australian  correspondent.  He 
says  that  your  cart  broke  down  on  the  way  to  the  Ovens, 
and  that  he  fears  you  are  suffering  from  the  climate. 
Somehow  that  letter  took  the  sting  out  of  our  wounds. 
We  had  not,  however,  seen  Willie  Howitt,  who  came  up 
to-day  with  his  Australian  home-news.  Now  we  know 
that  you  are  ill.  Willie,  however,  assures  us  that  all  who 
go  to  Australia  suffer  at  first  from  the  climate." 

"  March  29. — No  letters  from  you  yet !  We  have  re- 
gained a  little  composure  after  the  terrible  blow.  Never 
in  the  whole  of  my  life,  with  all  our  anxieties,  have  I 
passed  such  a  time  of  suspense  as  this  has  been  since 
that  awful  night  of  my  dream.  Oh !  may  it  please  our 
Heavenly  Father  to  protect  and  restore  you  to  us.  I 


96  MARY  HOWITT.  [en.  HL 

should  really  go  out'  to  you,  were  it  not  for  Annie 
and  Meggie.  These  partings  are  awful  things.  Think, 
only  your  last  letter  to  us  was  written  in  October,  and 
Alfred's  on  November  7.  God  help  us !  But  I  will 
hope  and  trust,  as  I  have  hitherto  done.  Yet  I  some- 
what dread  the  Great  Britain  coming  in.  She  is 
expected  every  hour. 

"Mr.  Green,  the  blind  gentleman  who  lived  nearly 
opposite  to  us  in  Avenue  Road,  has  made  a  most  kind 
arrangement  for  us.  He  will  send  our  letters  once  a 
fortnight  free  of  charge  by  his  line  of  vessels ;  thus  we 
need  no  longer  trust  to  the  mails.  Yet  it  is  sad  to  think 
that  you  will  not  receive  this  till  the  beginning  of  July." 

To  ALARIC  WATTS. 

"April  5,  1853. — You  and  dear  Mrs.  Watts  will  be 
pleased  to  know  that  we  have  had  very  long  and  interesting 
letters  from  William.  They  came  by  the  Great  Britain, 
and  are  dated  December  23,  when  they  were  all  three 
hundred  miles  up  the  country.  They  had  encountered 
many  adventures  by  the  way,  and  all  had  been  ill, 
William  seriously  so.  Their  illness  was  caused  by  camp- 
ing in  a  swampy  situation,  at  a  time  when,  their  cart 
having  broken  down,  they  were  detained  by  its  being 
repaired. 

"  God,  however,  always  sends  His  Angel  in  some  form 
in  one's  sorest  affliction.  So  it  was  now.  They  found, 
when  poor  dear  William  was  at  his  worst,  that  at  seven 
miles'  distance  there  was  a  large  sheep-station.  There 
they  sent  to  ask  for  something  they  needed,  and  when 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Forlonge,  the  owners  of  the  station,  heard 
that  it  was  William  who  lay  sick,  they  sent  down  every- 
thing in  their  power  for  his  comfort ;  then,  when  he  was 


1852-57.]  THE  HERMITAGE.  97 

able  to  be  removed,  had  him  conveyed  to  their  house  in 
a  spring-cart,  took  the  entire  party  and  all  their  belong- 
ings under  their  roof ;  and  though  utter  strangers,  treated 
them  with  brotherly  kindness.  They  proved  to  be  not 
only  true  Samaritans,  but  intellectual,  highly  cultivated 
Scotch  people. 

"This  illness  is  an  affecting  passage  to  us  in  the  narra- 
tive of  their  two  months'  journey;  still,  it  is  cheering  to 
know  that  even  in  the  wilderness  kind  hearts  are  to  be 
met  with.  For  the  rest,  nothing  can  be  more  Robinson- 
Crusoe-like  than  the  whole  expedition.  They  seem  to 
enjoy  it.  It  is  impossible  for  William  to  speak  too  highly 
of  Alfred,  who  has  not  only  resources  for  all  difficulties 
and  a  brave  spirit,  which  nothing  can  subdue,  but  so  much 
tenderness,  sympathy,  and  devoted  affection  in  sorrow. 

"  Chaiiton  is  in  his  element  among  birds  and  duck-billed 
platypuses,  flying  squirrels  and  opossums.  Edward  Bate- 
man  is  with  them,  and  was  one  of  the  best  nurses  to 
dearest  William  in  his  illness. 

"  A  great  load  is  lifted  off  our  hearts ;  and  more  than 
ever  now  we  feel  that  we  must  and  may  confide  them 
to  God." 

To  WILLIAM  HOWITT. 

"April  10,  1853. — It  nas  been  most  pleasant  to  meet 
the  Boothbys  again  before  their  departure  for  Australia. 
You  will  have  learned  already  that  Mr.  Boothby  is  going 
out  to  Adelaide  as  second  Supreme  Judge.  All  his  sons 
are  eager  about  Australia.  Who  would  have  imagined 
that,  when  he  and  you,  years  ago,  were  members  of  the 
Nottingham  Town  Council,  you  would  meet  once  more  in 
the  Antipodes  ? 

"While  writing,  Dr.   Sutherland  has   called.      He   is 

VOL.  II.  G 


98  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  in. 

delighted  with  your  letter  in  the  Times.  Just  as  he  was 
leaving,  who  should  come  in  but  Dr.  Smiles.  He  intends 
now  to  settle  in  London.  He  too  was  full  of  your  letter, 
the  first  description  that  had  ever  made  him  see  Australian 
scenery.  After  he  was  gone,  Meggie  and  I  set  out  for  our 
walk,  and  soon  we  met  Barbara's  father,  who  stopped  the 
carriage  to  speak  to  us.  He  is  very  anxious  that  the 
dredging-machines  in  use  on  the  Thames  should  be  intro- 
duced in  Australia,  to  scoop  up  the  gold  in  the  creeks. 

"  Now  I  must  try  to  think  over  what  news  there  is.  The 
great  topics  seem  to  be  : — In  the  political  world,  the  pro- 
posed new  scheme  of  Property  and  Income  Tax,  which 
would  make  everybody  pay  something  ;  the  proposal  of 
paying  off  a  portion  of  the  National  Debt  with  Australian 
gold.  In  the  literary  world,  the  International  Copyright, 
which  some  expect  will  be  in  force  within  three  months. 
In  society  in  general,  the  strange  circumstantial  rumour 
of  the  Queen's  death,  which,  being  set  afloat  on  Easter 
Monday,  when  no  business  was  doing,  was  not  the  off- 
spring of  the  money-market.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Charles  Kean, 
who  were  here  the  other  day,  spoke  of  it,  saying  truly 
that  for  the  moment  it  seemed  to  paralyse  the  very  heart 
of  England.  The  Keans,  by  the  bye,  send  the  very  kindest 
messages  to  you. 

"  I  forget  whether  I  told  you  of  the  invitation  to  Stafford 
House  of  not  only  our  Ladies'  Committee,  but  of  the 
Committee  of  the  old  Anti-Slavery  party.  The  latter 
were  invited  to  see  the  result  of  the  labours  of  the  noble 
duchesses,  ladies,  and  all  the  rest  of  us,  in  twenty-six 
large  volumes.  The  Committee  of  the  Anti-Slavery  party 
consisted  of  twelve  Quaker  ladies.  When  they  received 
their  invitation  to  Stafford  House,  they  wrote  back  to  ask 
if  they  might  each  be  allowed  to  bring  a  sister  or  a  friend. 


1852-57-]  THE  HERMITAGE.  99 

The  Duchess  very  graciously  consented,  and  their  num- 
ber grew  to  four-and-thirty.  There  they  were  when  we 
entered ;  all  sorts  of  Friends,  plain  and  smart,  old  and 
young,  grave  and  gay,  sitting  as  if  in  meeting,  round  the 
room.  We  were  invited  to  meet  Mrs.  Stowe  at  Stafford 
House,  but  whether  all  the  thirty-four  or  only  the  ori- 
ginal twelve  Quakeresses  will  go  I  know  not.  She  has 
arrived  at  Liverpool,  and  her  ovation  has  begun." 

"  May  4,  1853. — The  great  talk  now  is  Mrs.  Stowe  and 
spirit-rapping,  both  of  which  have  arrived  in  England. 
The  universality  of  the  phenomena  renders  it  a  curious 
study.  A  feeling  seems  pervading  all  classes,  all  sects, 
that  the  world  stands  upon  the  eve  of  some  great  spiritual 
revelation.  It  meets  one  in  books,  in  newspapers,  on  the 
lips  of  members  of  the  Church  of  England,  Unitarians, 
even  Freethinkers. 

"  Poor  old  Robert  Owen,  the  philanthropist,  has  been 
converted,  and  made  a  confession  of  faith  in  the  public 
papers.  One  cannot  but  respect  a  man  who,  in  his  old 
age,  has  the  boldness  to  declare  himself  as  having  been 
blinded  and  mistaken  through  life ;  and  who,  upon  the 
verge  of  human  life,  sends  forth  the  concealed  yearning  of 
his  soul  after  a  spiritual  world  and  an  immortality.  Yes, 
indeed,  is  not  the  greatest  proof,  after  all,  of  an  immor- 
tality the  innate  longing  after  it,  and  the  belief  in  it  exist- 
ing within  each  human  being,  whether  encased  in  external 
intellectual  pride,  worldly  joy,  or  hardness  of  heart,  and 
that  too  throughout  all  ages  and  shining  forth  from  all 
mythologies  ? 

"  Especially  are  the  aristocracy  interested  in  these  rap- 
pings,  which  become  contagious;  a  medium  of  spiritual  com- 
munication may  in  some  cases  be  developed  by  the  laying 


100 


MARY  HO  WITT.  [CH.  in. 


on  of  hands.  There  is  a  singular  resemblance  between  it 
and  mesmeric  power.  The  old  hobgoblins  and  brownies 
seem  to  be  let  loose  again,  for  all  the  spirits  appear  to  be  of 
a  singularly  low  order,  frequently  lying.  Mr.  Beecher,  the 
brother  of  Mrs.  Stowe,  has  delivered  in  America  a  series 
of  lectures  to  a  vast  assembly,  demonstrating  that  these 
phenomena  are  the  work  of  the  devil.  Well,  perhaps, 
they  may  be. 

"  Barbara,  who  is  now  investigating  these  strange 
glimpses  into  an  occult  power  of  nature,  told  us  last 
night  a  singular  circumstance  connected  with  Lady 
Byron's  mother.  Lady  Milbanke  had  discovered,  as  a 
young  woman  in  Switzerland,  that  she  was  endowed,  like 
many  of  the  natives,  with  the  power  of  discovering  water 
by  means  of  the  divining-rod.  When  Dr.  Wollaston  had 
written  a  most  learned  treatise  upon  the  superstition  of 
the  divining-rod,  he  was  surprised  to  receive  a  letter 
desiring  an  interview  with  him  on  Wimbledon  Common 
by  the  writer,  who  possessed  the  power  he  so  severely 
denounced.  Dr.  Wollaston  went  to  Wimbledon,  and 
great  was  his  surprise  to  perceive  a  carriage  approach 
the  spot  of  appointment.  An  elegant  lady,  accompanied 
by  some  equally  fashionable  friends,  alighted,  and  declared 
herself  the  writer  of  the  letter,  and  ready  to  test  her  power ; 
and  she  still  more  astonished  Dr.  Wollaston  when,  taking 
a  hazel-rod,  she  pointed  out  again  and  again  concealed 
springs  of  water.  This  anecdote  of  Lady  Milbanke  had 
been  told  Barbara,  I  believe,  by  Lady  Byron." 

"May  8,  1853.— Mrs.  Stowe  has  arrived  in  London. 
She  is  come  with  husband,  brothers,  sister-in-law,  and 
nephew.  She  is  a  simple,  kindly  creature,  with  a  face 
which  becomes  beautiful  from  expression.  We  spent  an 


1852-57-]  THE  HERMITAGE.  101 

evening  with  her  at  the  Binneys'  on  Friday.  It  was  a 
sort  of  open  house,  hundreds  of  people  coming  and  going. 
When  we  reached  the  front-door  we  were  struck  by  the 
crowds  which  had  gathered  round  it ;  we  heard  some 
one  say  he  had  come  to  get  a  peep  of  '  the  composer  of 
"  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin."  Wherever  she  goes,  and  it  is 
known  that  she  is  there,  a  crowd  gathers.  It  is  some- 
thing like  the  enthusiasm  in  America  for  Jenny  Lind. 

"  I  was  yesterday  at  Stafford  House,  with  some  hundreds 
besides,  composed  of  the  aristocracy  and  many  distin- 
guished people.  Mrs.  Stowe  and  her  relatives  had  taken 
luncheon  with  the  Duke  and  Duchess  of  Sutherland,  and 
the  dukes,  duchesses,  lords  and  ladies  of  their  family.  In 
the  grand  gallery  the  reception  took  place,  the  Duchess 
of  Sutherland  and  Lord  Shaftesbury  introducing  interest- 
ing personages  to  Mrs.  Stowe.  Then  the  principal  persons 
took  seats  in  the  middle  of  the  room,  and  the  company 
stood  round.  Lord  Shaftesbury  read  a  very  nice  address 
of  welcome  to  Mrs.  Stowe,  which  was  handed  her  ;  and 
her  brother  made  a  tedious  speech,  and  read  a  rather 
stupid  letter  from  an  American  who  had  emancipated  his 
slaves.  This  was  the  first  part  of  the  day's  proceedings. 
People  walked  about  and  conversed  together,  and  were 
introduced  to  Mrs.  Stowe,  if  they  had  patience  to  wait  for 
an  opportunity.  Tea  and  coffee  were  handed  round  by 
footmen  in  drab  and  scarlet  or  in  Highland  costume. 
Then  the  Duchess  and  Mrs.  Stowe  retired  to  a  smaller 
apartment,  where  the  ladies  were  invited  to  follow. 
Here,  after  a  good  deal  of  amusement  in  separating  the 
ladies  from  the  gentlemen,  Mrs.  Stowe  made  a  capital 
little  speech,  or  rather  talked  to  us  in  a  very  simple 
manner ;  her  countenance  beaming,  and  a  merry  smile 
at  times  playing  over  it,  till  she  looked  to  my  eyes  as 


IO2 


MARY  HO  WITT.  [CH.  in. 


beautiful   as  the  splendid  and  gracious  lady,  the  friend 
of  Queen  Victoria,  seated  beside  her." 

"June  29,  1853.— Dined  the  other  day  with  Sir  David 
Brewster  at  Lord  Shaftesbury's.  Later  in  the  evening  a 
servant  being  ordered  to  bring  a  hat  from  the  hall,  it  was 
made  to  spin  round  by  some  of  the  family  and  guests 
assembled  in  the  drawing-room.  It  was  very  odd.  Dr. 
Braid  of  Manchester  says  the  phenomenon  is  produced  by 
the  power  of  mind  over  matter ;  and  that  if  the  mind  is 
fixed  on  matter  long  enough,  and  with  sufficient  intensity, 
it  will  inevitably  operate  upon  it.  The  effect  which  all 
this  table-turning,  hat-moving,  and  spiritual  intercourse 
is  producing  on  all  kinds  of  people  is  marvellous.  Kobert 
Chambers,  the  Alaric  Wattses,  the  T.  K.  Herveys,  are  all 
believers  and  operators." 

"Aug.  20,  1853. — Only  think,  last  Saturday  we  actu- 
ally went  to  the  Camp  at  Chobham  ;  and  that  through  the 
politeness  of  the  S.  C.  Halls.  We  found  Mr.  Fairholt  at 
the  station,  and  travelled  together.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Samuel 
Lover,  Mr.  Ansdell,  and  some  other  guests  of  the  Halls' 
were  also  in  the  same  train.  At  Addlestone  station  was 
Mr.  Hall,  who  conveyed  the  party  to  Firfield,  that  won- 
derful abode,  which  so  confounded  good  Dr.  Forster  by 
its  magnificence ;  its  urns,  vases,  busts,  pictures,  its 
Sevres,  Dresden,  and  Wedgwood,  and  so  forth.  After 
partaking  of  an  elegant  breakfast,  all  the  party  entered 
carriages  and  rolled  away  to  the  Camp. 

"It  was  quite  exciting,  when  we  came  out  on  the 
main  road,  to  see  all  the  vehicles  hastening  on  towards 
the  Camp,  mail-coaches,  omnibuses,  cabs,  and  carriages 
crowded  with  people;  the  footpaths  also  crowded  with 


1852-57-]  THE  HERMITAGE.  103 

pedestrians.  Vehicles,  people,  horses,  trees,  hedges,  and 
grass  were  all  powdered  with  thick  dust  for  the  four  long 
miles  to  Chobham.  The  very  spiders  who  have  built  their 
webs  in  the  hedges  must  wonder  whatever  has  befallen  the 
summer,  for  they  are  choked  up  with  thick  dust,  in  spite 
of  all  the  rain  there  has  been.  Those  dusty  gossamers 
parch  my  throat  with  thirst  only  in  recollection. 

"  We  came  out  upon  a  desolate  moorland  tract,  where 
before  us  gleamed  forth  white  in  the  sunlight  the  distant 
lines  of  tents,  with  a  strange  poetical  beauty  suggestive  of 
the  tents  of  the  Israelites.  Tent-life,  especially  for  your 
dear  sakes,  being  very  interesting  to  Annie  and  me,  we 
looked  into  many  of  these  tents,  wondering  whether  your 
abode  presented  at  all  a  similar  picture.  Before  one 
officer's  tent  was  planted  a  little  garden,  and  at  the  door 
was  placed  a  rustic  seat,  which,  from  its  enormous  height, 
made  us  think  its  possessor  must  be  one  of  the  Ama- 
lekites.  The  booths  of  the  sutlers,  built  of  straw,  and 
the  straw-and-heather-constructed  sentry-boxes  were  most 
picturesque.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  M'lon,  Mr.  Fairholt,  Mr. 
Ansdell,  Annie,  and  I  were  the  most  adventurous  of  the 
party ;  for,  leaving  the  carriages  and  Mrs.  Hall,  the  Lady 
Mayoress,  and  the  Lovers  posted  upon  a  heathery  mound, 
crowded  with  other  carriages  and  spectators,  watching  the 
distant  evolutions  of  the  soldiers — whose  firing  resounded 
mournfully  across  the  heath,  and  the  white  volume  of 
whose  smoke  floated  softly  over  the  dark  hills — we  has- 
tened into  the  very  thick  of  the  battle. 

"  Here,  from  a  much  better  mount  of  observation,  we 
saw  the  columns  of  the  infantry  swiftly  descending  the 
slopes  before  us,  and  advancing  in  dense  bright-coloured 
masses  towards  the  imaginary  enemy.  The  Highland 
regiments  especially  added  to  the  picturesqueness  of  the 


I04  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  in. 

spectacle.  After  due  heroism  shown  by  us  at  the  can- 
non's mouth,  we  retreated  to  our  carriages,  not,  however, 
before  Annie  and  Mr.  Fairholt  had  noted  every  artistic 
effect;  for,  unlike  many  modern  artists,  he  is  sensible 
and  unaffected  enough  to  be  enthusiastic,  and  not  too 
gentlemanly  to  enjoy  the  beauty  and  pleasantness  about 
him.  Then,  all  the  party  covered  with  dust,  our  very  eyes 
dust-bins,  we  returned  to  enjoy  the  munificent  cold  colla- 
tion at  Firfield." 

"  Aug.  23. — Last  Sunday  we  had  another  holiday.  We 
were  driven  by  Joseph  Todhunter  in  the  tax-cart  to  see 
their  new  house  at  Willesden.  We  felt  vastly  like  some 
respectable  butcher's  or  baker's  family  ;  and  we  only  hope 
these  respectable  individuals  feel  ordinarily  as  happy  as 
we  did,  rattling  along  through  the  pleasant  lanes,  with 
the  wind  rushing  through  the  trees  overhead,  and  poor 
little  old  Brach  rushing  along  after  us,  like  a  big  heap  of 
dust.  We  sat  upon  the  sunny  lawn  in  Mrs.  Todhunter's 
garden,  with  the  distant  church-bells  ringing  pleasantly ; 
and  Annie  sketched  the  quaint  old  summer-house,  with 
a  tangle  of  hops  and  roses  at  one  side  of  it.  It  was  a 
delightful  day  indeed.  At  dusk  away  we  rattled  again 
a  la  butcher  and  baker,  or  rather  a  la  greengrocer,  for 
this  time  we  were  laden  with  vegetables." 

"March  2,  1854.— You  will  see  that  war  is  now  really 
beginning  in  earnest  with  Russia.  Nothing  is  talked  of 
here  but  war.  One  fleet  is  gone  to  the  Black  Sea,  and 
another  is  going  to  the  Baltic.  Troops  are  being  em- 
barked even  in  the  screw-steamers  intended  for  Australia. 
Men-of-war,  it  is  said,  are  to  be  sent  to  guard  the 
Australian  coast,  as  Russian  privateers  are  abroad,  and  it 


l852-57-]  THE  HEKMITAGE.  105 

is  expected  that  our  rich  Australian  vessels  will  be  seized. 
It  is  said,  also,  that  the  overland  route  will  no  longer  be 
safe;  so  that,  if  this  be  true,  it  will  put  an  end  to  your 
overland  return,  for  which  I  am  sorry.  The  whole  of  this 
excitement  and  preparation  for  war  has  made  me  very 
sad.  Greatly  have  we  admired  and  accompanied  in  spirit 
Joseph  Sturge  and  two  other  Friends  who  have  gone  to 
St.  Petersburg  to  endeavour  to  persuade  the  Czar  to 
peace.  It  was  really  a  very  fine  thing,  and  quite  worthy 
of  George  Fox.  If  you  see  the  Times,  you  will  read  an 
account  of  this  interview,  and  their  address  to  Nicholas, 
and  his  reply.  Long  live  such  true  men  of  peace !  and 
I  wish  all  the  world  thought  with  them.  The  prices  of 
everything  have  become  twice  what  they  were  when  you 
left  England. 

"  The  '  rapping  spirits '  go  on  rapping,  and  people  listen 
to  them.  I  myself  think  it  delusion  ;  but  really  we  hear 
extraordinary  things,  and  we  see  sensible  people  believing 
so  gravely,  and  in  many  cases  it  has  produced  such  beauti- 
ful and  sincere  religious  faith  and  trust,  that  we  do  not 
know  what  to  say.  Bulwer  is  most  eager  on  the  subject. 
Decanters  rise  up  from  his  table  without  hands,  solid 
substances  suspend  themselves  in  the  air." 

On  May  15,  1854,  I  went  to  stay  with  Mr.  Bladon  at 
Uttoxeter,  and  was  joined  the  next  day  by  my  daughter 
Annie.  The  little  town  looked  to  me  but  slightly 
altered,  yet  somehow  old  and  shabby;  the  country  plea- 
sant, especially  the  hilly  crofts.  The  vegetation,  however, 
neither  so  fine  nor  so  early  as  I  had  expected. 

To  MARGARET  HOWITT. 

"  Uttoxeter,  May  21,  1854. — Lots  of  folk  have  called  on 


I06  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  in. 

us,  and  we  might  go  out  every  day  to  dinner  and  evening 
parties,  but  we  have  set  our  faces  against  it;  and  Mr. 
Bladon  is  very  good,  and  lets  us  do  as  we  like.  We  will, 
however,  be  civil,  and  even  grateful.  Last  evening  a  rich 
silk  manufacturer  of  Macclesfield  called,  with  his  wife,  on 
us.  He  has  settled  in  the  neighbourhood;  is  a  fat,  jolly 
Conservative,  whose  work-people  are  emphatically  hands, 
and  who  thinks  '  Maiy  Barton '  a  dangerous,  bad  book. 
He  had  been  to  the  Royal  Academy.  He  said  he  could 
not,  for  the  soul  of  him,  tell  what  to  make  of  Holman 
Hunt's  '  Light  of  the  World ; '  whether  it  was  good  or 
bad  he  did  not  know.  He  looked  at  it  for  half  an  hour, 
and  was  never  so  puzzled  by  any  picture  before. 

"We  were  at  Mrs.  White's  of  Barrow  Hill  the  other 
morning.  She  has  a  celebrated  collection  of  old  pictures, 
which  Mrs.  Jameson,  amongst  other  connoisseurs,  has  been 
to  see.  Some  of  them  are  really  good,  others  indifferent. 
Mrs.  White  was  in  the  grounds  when  we  arrived,  and 
came  to  us  in  an  old,  old  bonnet,  a  coarse  old  woollen 
shawl,  and  a  gown  worth  about  ten  shillings  when  new. 
She  is  not  only  very  rich,  but  highly  intellectual ;  and 
were  she  not  so  great  a  lady,  would  be  regarded  here  as  a 
heretic,  for  she  is  a  Unitarian. 

"  Your  aunt  Anna  comes  to-morrow,  and  she  will 
enjoy  the  oddities  as  much  as  I  do.  It  often  bores  poor 
Annie,  and  no  wonder.  We  went  out  to  tea,  for  instance, 
and  she  was  shown,  for  her  amusement,  a  set  of  small 
copperplates  worth  sixpence,  a  French  plum-box,  a  paper 
hand-screen,  and  'Leighton  on  the  Epistles  of  St. 
Peter.'  " 

"  June  2,  1854. — I  wish  you  had  been  with  us  on  Wed- 
nesday, when  we  went  to  call  on  the  new  Vicar  and  his 


•1852-57-]  THE  HERMITAGE.  107 

sister.  They  have  just  got  into  the  nice  old  Vicarage  ; 
and  he  has  bought  up  all  the  old  carved  oak  chairs  and 
tables  and  a  sideboard  out  of  the  houses  of  the  country- 
people." 

ANNA  MARY  TO  HER  UNCLE,  RICHARD  HOWITT. 

"  The  Hermitage,  June  18,  1854. — We  have  been  for 
the  last  several  weeks  at  Uttoxeter.  You  may  believe 
it  was  very  pleasant  to  be  there  and  revisit  the  old 
scenes.  Especially  was  it  pleasant  for  my  mother  meet- 
ing my  aunt  Anna  there,  and  for  them  to  wander 
through  their  old  haunts  and  talk  over  old  memories. 

"  A  poetical  little  incident  also  occurred.  When  we 
had  been  in  Uttoxeter  a  few  days,  my  mother  suddenly 
remembered  that  she  had  not  heard  the  chimes  play  as 
usual  since  she  had  arrived ;  those  sweet  melodious 
chimes,  which  had  so  delighted  her  and  my  aunt  when 
they  were  children.  What  had  become  of  them  ? 

"  Every  one  then  began  also  to  ask  what  had  be- 
come of  the  chimes.  People  remembered  then  that  for 
years  they  had  been  silent — silent  ever  since  the  church 
had  been  repaired  many  years  back.  Mr.  Joseph  Bladon, 
at  whose  house  we  were  staying,  and  who  is  about  the 
most  influential  man  now  in  the  little  town,  together 
with  the  Vicar — who  also  had  never  heard  the  chimes, 
being  come  to  the  place  only  within  a  short  time — soon 
had  inquiries  made.  Then  the  first  Sunday  morning  after 
our  arrival,  in  honour  of  my  mother's  visit  to  her  old 
home,  the  chimes  recommenced  their  sweet  music.  They 
had  quite  passed  out  of  people's  memories,  but  were  still 
in  perfect  order,  only  requiring  a  new  rope. 

"  We  shall  send  you  in  a  day  or  two  a  copy  of  '  The 
Artist's  Diisseldorf  Album,'  in  which  you  will  find  a  poem 


io8 


MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  in. 


of  yours  printed.  My  mother  was  asked  to  translate  the 
German  poems,  and  also  to  procure  a  few  original  Eng- 
lish poems  ;  and  as  the  time  was  very  short,  we  sent  one 
of  yours  which  we  had,  and  greatly  liked.  Please  read 
in  the  Album  a  poem  called  '  Sister  Helen.'  It  is  by 
Gabriel  Rossetti,  an  artist  friend  of  ours." 

THE  SAME  TO  THE  SAME. 

"  Oct.  22,  1854. — I  send  you  the  delightful  information 
that  my  father  and  dear  old  Charlton  are  on  their  home- 
ward voyage.  They  were  to  start  on  August  ist.  My 
father  has  been  in  Sydney  and  Van  Diemen's  Land,  and 
was  very  well  when  he  wrote." 

MARY  HOWITT  TO  HER  SISTER. 

"Nov.  1 6,  1854. — Our  beloved  voyagers  are  not  yet 
returned,  though  we  have  been  listening  for  their  ring  at 
the  gate  almost  for  several  weeks.  But  our  impatience 
outran  possibility,  as  they  will  not,  in  all  probability,  be 
here  before  the  end  of  next  week.  This  we  know  from  a 
letter  which  we  received  on  Monday  from  William,  written 
from  Rio  Janeiro,  where  they  had  put  in  for  water,  vege- 
tables, and  supplies.  I  am  glad  that  they  touched  at 
Rio,  as  they  have  thus  a  little  peep  of  South  America,  and 
according  to  his  letter,  they  are  extremely  delighted  with 
the  natural  features  of  that  fine  country. 

;'We  now  never  are  both  from  home,  for  we  cannot 
bear  the  possibility  of  their  arriving  and  finding  us  not 
here  to  welcome  them.  It  is  strange  that,  while  I  long 
so  earnestly  for  William's  return,  I  yet  dread  it.  I  fear 
seeing  in  his  beloved  face  traces  of  anxiety,  of  hardship 
and  time.  I  fear,  too,  lest  he  should  see  them  in  mine, 
as  assuredly  he  will ;  only  I  think  our  joy  will  hide  our 


WILLIAM  AND  MARY  HOWITT  AT  THK  HEKMITAGE. 


1852-57].  THE  HERMITAGE.  in 

wrinkles.     Life  is  such  a  sad  history  that  one's  very  hap- 
piness is  mingled  with  pain  and  fear. 

"  Anna,  my  beloved,  is  it  possible  that  you  may  come 
to  the  neighbourhood  of  London  ?  I  hope  it  may  be  so. 
Would  it  not  be  beautiful  if  the  evening  of  our  lives  were 
spent  in  near  and  dear  intercourse,  as  was  our  youth? 
I  do  not  know  anything  which  would  give  me  greater 
pleasure." 

On  Thursday,  December  7,  1854,  at  about  two  o'clock, 
my  dear  husband  and  son  arrived  at  The  Hermitage  safe 
and  sound,  looking  so  well  that  it  was  a  great  joy  to  us. 
At  the  same  period  my  brother-in-law,  Daniel  Harrison, 
settled  with  his  family  in  the  neighbourhood  of  London  ; 
making  me  thus  enjoy  a  full  measure  of  domestic  happi- 
ness. 

MARY  HOWITT  TO  HER  DAUGHTER  MARGARET. 

"  The  Hermitage,  Aug.  9,  1855. — Annie  went  with 
Barbara  to  Glottenham,  and  had  just  begun  to  feel  better, 
when,  lo  !  it  was  discovered  that  a  poor  woman  was  ill  of 
a  fever  in  a  neighbouring  cottage,  and  at  five  minutes' 
warning  off  they  set  to  Hastings,  and  are  now  located  at 
Clive  Vale  Farm,  near  Fairlight ;  the  same  farm  where 
Holman  Hunt  painted  his  sheep." 

ANNA  MARY  HOWITT  TO  HER  MOTHER. 

"  Clive  Vale  Farm,  Aug.  10,  1855. — We  have  just  had 
breakfast.  Our  little  parlour-window  is  wide  open,  with 
the  sunshine  streaming  in,  and  the  vast  expanse  of  distant 
sea  and  undulating  green  hills  coming  close  up  to  the 
strip  of  cottage  garden.  We  were  very  much  amused  by 
finding  the  traces  of  Holman  Hunt's  painting  in  great 


II2  MARY  HOWITT.  .  [CH.  in. 

spots  of  green,  blue,  and  red,  and  traces  of  oil  and  tur- 
pentine upon  a  picturesque,  little,  stout  oak  table,  which 
we  had  chosen  also  for  our  work  ;  and  thus  quite  uninten- 
tionally we  have  trodden  in  his  steps." 

MARY  HOWITT  TO  HER  DAUGHTER,  ANNA  MARY. 

"  The  Hermitage,  Aug.  21,  1855. — We  had  a  very 
pleasant  evening  at  Miss  Coutts's.  She  and  Mrs.  Brown 
set  off  to-morrow,  and  will  not  return  before  the  end  of 
October.  She  has  had  a  great  annoyance  about  the 
extension  of  Highgate  Cemetery.  A  few  years  ago,  she 
told  me,  she  offered  to  buy  this  very  land  now  purchased 
by  the  cemetery  company,  and  reaching  down  to  Swain's 
Lane ;  she  was  intending  to  make  it  beautiful  gardens,  to 
be  secured  to  the  public  for  ever.  At  that  time  the  pro- 
prietor refused  to  sell ;  and  she  naturally  feels  ill-used 
not  to  have  had  the  first  offer,  when  he  was  inclined  to 
do  so,  and  before  the  cemetery  company  was  allowed  to 
purchase  it,  for  a  purpose  injurious  to  the  health  of  the 
increasing  population. 

"  Of  course,  I  said,  as  I  felt,  that  hers  had  been  a  noble 
and  excellent  idea,  and  asked  her  if  I  might  'speak  of  it. 
She  replied,  '  Certainly.'  I  then  added,  '  But  do  not  give 
up  the  idea.  It  is  by  such  beneficial  acts  that  your  name 
will  be  preserved  to  the  nation.  Let  me  beg  of  you  to 
purchase  Parliament  Hill  and  convert  that  into  a  public 
park.'  She  answered,  '  That  is  Lord  Mansfield's  property. 
However,  I  shall  think  of  it.'  My  heart  blessed  her  for 
those  words,  but  I  merely  said,  '  Yes,  dear  Miss  Coutts, 
do,  for  such  an  idea  is  worthy  of  you/  I  told  her,  too, 
how  beautiful  that  hill  would  be  with  a  grand  white 
marble  statue  standing  upon  it,  with  the  background  of 
blue  sky.  '  Very  beautiful,'  she  said,  in  her  quiet  way." 


1852-57-]  THE  HERMITAGE.  113 

THE  SAME  TO  THE  SAME. 

"Aug.  22,  1855. — The  purchaser  of  this  property 
intends  to  pull  down  all  the  cottages  below  us  and  build 
a  row  of  villas  in  their  stead.  If,  however,  he  leaves  this 
house  standing,  he  may  as  well  retain  us  as  tenants  as 
take  new  ones.  It  would  be  a  real  grief  to  me  to  leave 
the  neighbourhood  of  Miss  A.  B.  C.,  for  she  is  a  noble 
creature." 

"  Brockham  Lodge,  Aug.  26,  1855. — Here  we  are,  my 
dearest  Annie,  with  our  kind  friends,  William  and  Eliza- 
beth Bennett.  Every  object  within-doors,  every  lovely 
plant  without,  stand  just  where  they  did  two  years  ago. 
A  new  fern-house,  it  is  true,  is  erected,  and  a  chaotic 
wilderness  is  being  formed,  and  an  exquisite  new  clematis 
covers  a  portion  of  the  greenhouse.  But  these  are  only 
perceived  at  a  second  glance. 

"  It  being  First-day,  the  family  is  gone  to  meeting, 
your  father  with  them.  It  is  the  midst  of  corn-harvest ; 
the  fields  being  either  clear  of  corn  or  filled  with  shocks 
ready  for  carrying.  How  exquisite  was  your  account  of 
the  harvest-field  after  the  storm,  and  the  resemblance 
which  it  bore  to  the  bowed  and  afflicted  nation !  It  was 
to  me  a  grand  poem." 

"  The  Hermitage,  Sept.  4,  1855. — When  we  walk  in 
our  favourite  Highgate  fields  towards  Hampstead  we  often 
see  Mr.  Tom  Seddon  and  his  pretty  little  wife.  We  did 
so  yesterday,  and  walked  together.  He  wants  to  finish 
his  Eastern  sketches,  and  asked  us  where  he  could  find 
rocks  and  old  thorn-trees,  which  he  might  use  for  bits  of 
his  olive-trees  ;  and  where  he  could  find  a  level  burnt-up 

country  for  a  Syrian  desert.     We  advised  him  to  go  to 
VOL.  n.  H 


1I4  MARY  HOWITT.  [en.  m. 

the  little  inn  at  Rowsley  for  the  old  rocks  about  Haddon 
Hall  and  Stanton.  He  said  that  '  Lear  had  advised  the 
same.'  I  suggested  he  could  find  strange,  weird  old 
trees  about  Hurstmonceaux.  He  replied,  '  So,  too,  had 
Lear  told  him,'  and  that  Lear  was  painting  down  there 
this  very  summer.  He  cannot  turn  his  thoughts  at  present 
to  other  subjects  than  the  East." 

"Dec.  4,  1855.— Of  course,  your  father  and  I  entirely 
approve  of  Barbara's  scheme  for  petitioning  Parliament 
for  an  alteration  in  the  law  as  regards  the  property  of 
married  women ;  and  we  are  glad  that  she  is  getting  her 
grand  scheme  into  form." 

"  Jan.  8,  1856. — Yesterday  I  went  to  Stratton  Street. 
Miss  Coutts  was  at  home,  and  most  kindly  received  me. 
We  sat  and  talked  over  Mr.  Brown's  death,  and  Mrs. 
Brown's  grief  and  beautiful  resignation ;  and  then  she 
came  in.  I  am  always  affected,  somehow,  by  the  sight  of 
a  widow's  cap ;  and  to  see  that  bright  face  so  sad,  and 
surrounded  by  the  plain,  white,  folded  muslin,  quite 
touched  me.  We  talked  about  death  and  eternity.  Both 
believe  in  the  immediate  life  after  death,  and  that  the 
spirit  of  a  departed  beloved  one  may  be  ever  present, 
though  unseen,  unfelt ;  only  they  do  not  believe  in  the 
influence  of  the  spirit  through  dreams  or  material  mani- 
festations. It  was,  some  way,  very  sweet,  and  I  had  great 
peace  in  this  part  of  my  visit.  Miss  Coutts  showed  me 
a  miniature  which  Sir  William  Ross  has  done  of  Mr. 
Brown  since  death  from  the  bust  and  his  remembrance  of 
the  face ;  but  it  is  not  quite  right. 

"  We  then  talked  of  this  proposed  movement  to  secure 
to  married  women  their  own  property  and  earnings. 


1852-57-]  THE  HERMITAGE.  115 

They  both  agree  that  it  is  quite  right.  Miss  Coutts,  who 
understands  the  subject  thoroughly,  said  that  she  believed 
some  changes  would  be  made  in  the  laws  regarding 
women  and  the  management  of  their  property ;  but  as  to 
supporting  the  petition,  she  must  fully  consider  it,  and 
can  say  nothing  just  at  present. 

"  I  mentioned  that  Mrs.  M.  and  Mrs.  N.  stood  at  the 
head  of  its  supporters.  She  replied,  that  '  if  it  were  so 
the  cause  would  be  greatly  damaged.'  I  was  extremely 
astonished.  '  These  ladies,'  she  continued,  '  hold  such 
free  opinions  with  regard  to  marriage  that  people  would 
naturally  be  suspicious  of  the  intentions  of  the  whole 
thing.'  I  answered  that  '  I  was  quite  unaware  of  their 
entertaining  such  opinions,  that  Mrs.  M.  had  had  the 
sorrow  of  a  very  bad  husband,  and  therefore  she  might 
have  a  right  to  speak.' — '  Yes,'  said  Miss  Coutts,  '  I  know 
it.  I  am  acquainted  with  Mrs.  M.'s  books,  and  think 
highly  of  them ;  just  lately,  when  a  subscription  was 
raised  for  her,  I  had  a  pleasure  in  giving  something 
towards  it.  But  you  must  excuse  me  saying  it,  your 
name  ought  never  to  be  joined  with  those  of  Mrs.  M. 
and  Mrs.  N.'  I  again  looked  astonished,  and  wondered 
to  myself  what  these  ladies  would  say  if  they  heard  this. 
Mrs.  Brown  asked  what  Mrs.  N.  it  was?  'The  mother 
of  that  wild,  mad  young  Lady  -  — ,'  was  the  reply. 

"Now,  amazed  as  I  am  to  find  myself  set  up  above 
Mrs.  M.  and  Mrs.  N.,  I  do  think  it  most  needful  to 
have  an  eye  to  the  moral  status  of  the  persons  supporting 
this  movement ;  and  that  in  the  fields  of  science  and 
literature  signatures  such  as  those  of  Mrs.  Somerville  and 
Mrs.  Gaskell  should  be  obtained." 

"  Jan.  9,  1856. — We  went  last  evening  to  the  Seddons'. 


u6 


MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  in. 


Mr.  Tom  Seddon  is  in  very  good  heart.  He  has  sold 
one  of  his  pictures  to  Lord  Grosvenor.  He  showed  me 
a  sketch  for  another  of  his  commissions.  It  is  a  sort 
of  halt  in  the  desert  at  the  hour  of  prayer.  He  is  going 
again  to  the  East  to  paint  a  picture  at  Damascus.  His 
brother,  the  architect,  has  received  a  commission  to 
restore  Llandaff  Cathedral,  so  he  is  in  Wales.  They 
all  seem  very  happy,  and  send  lots  of  kind  messages 
to  you." 

ANNA  MARY  HOWITT  TO  HER  SISTER  MARGARET. 

"March  13,  1856. — The  petition  about  married 
women's  property  has  already  been  announced  in  Parlia- 
ment. It  is  spoken  of  as  the  petition  of  Elizabeth  Bar- 
rett Browning,  Anna  Jameson,  Mary  Howitt,  Mrs.  Gas- 
kell,  &c.  The  London  signatures  are  within  a  small 
number  of  three  thousand.  Westminster  are  two  thou- 
sand. Various  little  incidents  of  interest  have  occurred, 
such  as  a  very  old  lady  on  her  death-bed,  who  asked  to  be 
allowed  to  put  her  name  to  the  petition,  and  thus  wrote 
her  signature  for  the  last  time.  Yesterday  evening,  as  it 
was  growing  dusk,  Octavia  made  her  appearance,  looking 
so  bright  and  happy.  She  had  been  taking  her  Eagged 
School  children  a  walk  in  the  Highgate  fields ;  and  dis- 
missing them,  came  here.  She  helped  mother  to  paste 
the  signature  sheets,  which  have  all  been  sent  in 
to-day." 

THE  SAME  TO  THE  SAME. 

"  March  17,1 856.— Sir  Erskine  Perry  says  that,  contrary 
to  his  expectation,  the  petition  was  received  very  respect- 
fully in  the  House  of  Commons,  without  a  sneer  or  a 
smile.  Lord  Brougham  made  a  capital  little  speech  in 


1852-57-]  THE  HERMITAGE.  117 

the  Lords  on  presenting  the  petition,  paying  Mrs.  Jame- 
son and  our  mother  each  a  very  nice  compliment,  to 
which  there  was  a  'Hear,  hear.'  He  especially  called 
Lord  Lyndhurst's  attention  to  the  importance  of  the 
question.  It  will  be  capital  if,  through  this  women's 
petition,  the  law  gets  amended."  * 

On  December  19,  1856,  we  learnt  with  regret  the 
death,  at  Cairo,  of  the  gifted  young  artist,  Thomas  Sed- 
don ;  and  on  the  Christmas  Day,  Holman  Hunt  called  to 
consult  with  Anna  Mary  about  her  little  memoir  of  his 
deceased  friend. 

Our  daughter  had,  both  by  her  pen  and  pencil,  taken 
her  place  amongst  the  successful  artists  and  writers  of 
the  day,  when,  in  the  spring  of  1856,  a  severe  private 
censure  of  one  of  her  oil-paintings  by  a  king  among 
critics  so  crushed  her  sensitive  nature  as  to  make  her  yield 
to  her  bias  for  the  supernatural,  and  withdraw  from  the 
ordinary  arena  of  the  fine  arts.  After  her  marriage  in 
1859  to  her  contemporary  and  friend  from  childhood, 
Alaric  Alfred,  the  only  son  of  our  valued  associates,  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Watts,  they  both  jointly  pursued  psychological 
studies. 

In  the  spring  of  1856  we  had  become  acquainted 
with  several  most  ardent  and  honest  spirit-mediums.  It 
seemed  right  to  my  husband  and  myself,  under  the  cir- 
cumstances, to  see  and  try  to  understand  the  true  nature 
of  those  phenomena  in  which  our  new  acquaintance  so 
firmly  believed.  In  the  month  of  April  I  was  therefore 
invited  to  a  seance  at  Professor  De  Morgan's,  and  was  much 
astonished  and  affected  by  communications  purporting  to 

*  The  only  change  brought  about  by  the  petition  was  in  the  law  of 
marriage  and  divorce. 


n8  MARY  HO  WITT.  [CH.  m. 

come  to  me  from  my  dear  son  Claude.  With  constant 
prayer  for  enlightenment  and  guidance,  we  experimented 
at  home.  The  teachings  that  seemed  given  to  us  from 
the  spirit-world  were  often  akin  to  those  of  the  Gospel ; 
at  other  times  were  more  obviously  emanations  of  evil. 
The  system  was  clearly  open  to  much  abuse.  I  felt 
thankful  for  the  assurance  thus  gained  of  an  invisible 
world,  but  resolved  to  neglect  none  of  my  common  duties 
for  spiritualism. 

The  Hermitage  being  doomed  to  destruction,  we  quitted 
it  in  1857  for  another  house  at  Highgate,  pleasantly 
situated  higher  up  on  the  same  ascent,  and  called  West 
Hill  Lodge. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

WEST  HILL   LODGE. 
1857-1866. 

OUR,  new  home  at  Highgate  stood  back,  facing  its  old- 
fashioned  sloping  garden,  which  was  hidden  from  the 
high-road  by  a  thick  screen  of  clipped  lime-trees ;  and 
it  possessed  from  the  flat  accessible  roof  a  magnificent 
survey  of  London  and  its  environs.  It  was  to  us  a 
pleasant  and  attractive  abode,  yet  we  willingly  vacated 
it  for  months  at  a  time.  My  husband's  life  of  free, 
pleasant,  healthy  adventure  in  Australia  had  stimulated 
his  innate  love  of  Nature  ;  and,  although  a  sexagenarian, 
made  him  henceforth  always  ready  to  start  off  to  the 
mountains,  the  seaside,  or  the  Continent,  fulfilling,  wher- 
ever it  might  be,  his  literary  occupations  in  the  quiet 
and  refreshment  of  fine  scenery.  It  appears  to  me  a 
delightful,  most  privileged  existence  that  we  were  thus 
perpetually  permitted  to  enjoy  God's  glorious  works  on 
earth,  as  a  foretaste,  I  humbly  trust,  of  still  more  sublime 
ones  in  heaven. 

From  1858  a  series  of  sojourns  in  Carnarvonshire 
began,  which,  interluded  by  visits  to  various  parts  of  Eng- 
land, France,  Switzerland,  and  Germany,  remained,  until 
we  reached  Italy  and  Tyrol,  our  chief  source  of  rural 
profit  and  delight.  The  Chester  and  Carnarvon  Railway 
had  already  brought  along  the  sea-coast  of  North  Wales 
an  influx  of  tourists  and  wealthy  settlers,  demanding  and 


120 


MARY  HO  WITT. 


[CH.  IV. 


introducing  the  necessities  of  advanced  civilisation.  This 
tended  to  develop  the  resources  of  the  beautiful  land, 
whose  valleys  and  mountain-sides  are  inhabited  by  an 
isolated  people,  proud  of  their  traditions,  history,  literature, 
and  language,  and  jealously  guarding  themselves  as  much 
as  possible  from  the  introduction  of  new  customs. 


WEST  HILL  LODGE. 


We  sympathised  with  our  "  Saxon "  friends  and  ac- 
quaintances in  their  desire  practically  to  ameliorate  the 
condition  and  remove  the  prejudices  of  their  Cambrian 
neighbours ;  with  the  latter,  in  their  passionate  love  of 
their  old  language — the  last  remnant  left  them  of  their 
cherished  nationality — and  in  their  strong  religious  aspi- 
rations. We  familiarised  ourselves  with  their  distinct 


1857-66.]  WEST  HILL  LODGE.  121 

habits    and   customs,    and    their  belief  in   second -sight, 
good  and  bad  omens,  presentiments  and  apparitions. 

We  find  a  mention  of  our  first  stay  in  North  Wales  in 
the  following  letter  from  Anna  Mary  Howitt  to  her  uncle 
Richard,  dated  "The  Mill  Cottage,  Aber,  near  Bangor:" — 

"Aug.  28,  1858. — Although  we  are  not  amongst  the 
grandest  Welsh  scenery,  we  have  mountains  and  a  won- 
derfully beautiful  valley,  traversed  by  the  rocky  bed  of  a 
torrent,  a  regular  chaos  of  huge  stones.  We  have  the 
sea  near,  and  heather  and  exquisite  flowers  starring  the 
pasture-fields,  hill-sides,  and  glens  ;  and  we  have  gurgling 
brooks,  and  many  an  old  remain  of  the  Past — Druidical, 
Roman,  and  Mediaeval — so  that  there  is  a  great  variety 
to  be  enjoyed. 

"  We  are  located  in  a  regularly  romantic  cottage,  close 
to  the  mill  of  this  little  village  of  Aber.  It  belongs 
to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Birley ;  and  she  says  that  my  aunt, 
Elizabeth  Howitt  of  Farnsfield,  has  been  here.  Is  it  not 
curious  how  people  are  linked  in  acquaintance  all  over 
this  world ! 

"We  are  much  struck  by  a  certain  resemblance  to 
Germany  in  the  look  of  the  villages,  and  even  of  the 
people.  We  only  wish  that  some  great  Welsh  writer 
would  arise,  and  do  for  beautiful  Wales  what  Scott  has 
done  for  his  native  land,  or  even  what  Auerbach  has 
for  German  peasant  life  in  his  '  Tales  of  the  Black 
Forest.'  Alas  !  this  difficult  Welsh  language  is  a  terrible 
bar  to  any  English  visitor  conversing  with  the  country- 
people  ;  and  unless  a  person  can  talk  with  them,  there 
is  no  writing  well  about  them.  It  is  a  Welsh  man  or 
woman  born  and  bred  who  should  be  the  chronicler  of 
the  strange,  wild,  simple  and  affecting  stories  to  be  met 


I22  MARY  HO  WITT.  [en.  iv. 

with  in  the  cottages  and  farm-houses  of  these  solitary 
valleys  and  hill-sides. 

"It  is  curious  how  very  little  English  is  generally 
spoken  amongst  the  common  people,  and  this  very  fact 
has  preserved  much  that  is  peculiar  and  primitive  in 
the  race.  It  is  difficult,  too,  unfortunately,  to  find,  so  far, 
at  least,  as  our  experience  has  gone,  people  of  the  middle 
class  who  are  interested  about  the  peculiarities  and 
language  of  their  country.  You  have  to  hunt  after  the 
bits  of  picturesqueness,  for  very  few  of  the  educated  care 
for  them,  regarding  them  as  vulgar.  We  are  intending 
to  make  the  acquaintance  of  the  Methodist  preacher,  who 
lives  at  the  neighbouring  Methodist  village  of  Bethesda. 
He  speaks  English,  which  not  all  Methodist  preachers 
here  do.  As  he  is  one  of  the  people,  and  goes  amongst 
them,  we  hope  from  him  to  hear  something  quaint  and 
interesting.  Mr.  Williams,  the  clergyman  here,  a  Welsh- 
man born  and  bred,  takes  some  interest,  for  a  wonder, 
in  the  old  legends  and  superstitions  of  the  race.  From 
him  we  have  heard  a  few  particulars,  which  only  make 
us  long  for  more.  He,  however,  only  tells  us  about  the 
poor  church-goers,  and  that  is  quite  the  minority  here. 

"  You  will  be  glad  to  learn  that  my  father  has  begun 
writing  a  book  he  has  long  talked  of,  '  The  Man  of  the 
People.'  He  has  read  us  the  chapters  already  written, 
and  we  are  deeply  interested  in  it.  Mdlle.  Bremer  is  also 
sending  my  mother  the  sheets  of  a  new  tale,  '  Father  and 
Daughter.'  So  that  you  see  both  play  and  work  go  on 
here ;  the  one  giving  relish  to  the  other." 

Eichard  Howitt  was  at  this  time  living  in  the  deepest 
seclusion  on  his  little  farm  at  Edingley ;  yet,  as  the  most 
inspiriting  thoughts  came  to  him  in  isolation,  he  seldom 


1 8s 7-66.]  WEST  HILL  LODGE.  123 

felt  solitary.  The  young  clodhoppers  helping  him  at 
his  work  thought  him  a  strange  man ;  and  one  of  them 
observed  to  the  housekeeper,  "  He  fancied  Mester  com- 
pletely lost,  for  when  plucking  the  orchard  fruit  he 
would  give  no  reply,  and  often  pause  as  if  going 
asleep." 

If  silent  and  meditative,  he  was  active  and  eloquent 
in  the  service  of  the  care-worn  and  oppressed.  When 
elected  guardian  of  the  poor  by  a  large  majority,  blue 
and  white  flags  fluttered  gaily  from  the  cottage  windows, 
and  for  more  than  an  hour  the  church  bells  of  his  village 
were  merrily  rung.  An  immense  reader  in  a  wide  range 
of  literature,  he  would  start  off,  after  the  perusal  of  any 
poetry  or  prose  that  was  brilliant,  earnest,  deep,  sincere, 
or  admirable,  to  impart  the  rich  treat  to  his  sister-in-law, 
Elizabeth,  the  widow  of  his  elder  brother,  Emanuel.  She 
dwelt  in  the  adjacent  village  of  Farnsfield,  where  was 
also  the  home  of  her  stepson,  Leaver  Howitt,  and  his 
numerous  family. 

Anna  Mary  Howitt  again  writes  to  her  uncle  Richard, 
this  time  from  "  Thorpe,  near  Ashboume,  Derbyshire  :  " — 

"  May  13,  1859. — You  will  be  surprised  to  see  the  above 
address.  We  are  located  for  some  weeks  in  a  roomy,  com- 
fortable cottage,  in  this  quiet,  old-world,  well-to-do  village 
of  Thorpe,  close  to  lovely  Dovedale,  in  which  we  live 
nearly  the  whole  day  long.  We  came  away  very  suddenly 
from  home,  as  Florence  Nightingale,  who,  I  regret  to  say, 
is  very  much  of  an  invalid,  wished  my  parents  to  let  her 
our  house,  for  she  wanted  a  quiet  healthy  place  near 
town.  We  came  away  at  almost  a  day's  notice,  bringing 
our  work  with  us,  and  settling  down  in  these  cosy  but 
primitive  quarters. 


!  24  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  iv. 

"We  have  been  both  to  Ham  and  Tissington,  and 
about  a  good  deal,  for  Mr.  Watts-Russell  and  Sir  William 
and  Lady  Fitz-Herbert  are  most  kind  and  attentive  to 
my  parents.  You  would  write  a  ballad  about  the  old 
baronial  hall  of  Tissington,  and  the  holy  well-dressing 
in  the  village  on  Ascension  Day ;  and  Ham  is  equally 
poetical  and  charming." 

WILLIAM  HOWITT  TO  HIS  BROTHER  EICHARD. 

"May  1 6,  '59 — The  Dale  is  much  finer  than  I  re- 
membered it,  and  stands  well  the  comparison  with  other 
scenery  that  we  have  visited.  Trains  bring  lots  of  people 
to  Ashbourne ;  and  the  Dale  is  crowded  on  Sundays  and 
holidays,  otherwise  quiet  enough.  If  all  the  Waltonians 
that  haunt  the  Dove,  however,  caught  fish,  there  could 
not  be  much  left.  Yet  I  see  some  fine  ones  flounce  up 
occasionally,  but  I  let  them  alone,  having  '  other  fish  to 
fry.'  It  is  wonderful  how  much  the  country  has  become 
cultivated  since  I  saw  it  before.  All  the  corn-fields  are 
now  on  the  top  of  the  highest  hills,  where  there  only  was 
heather,  and  where  the  people  thought  oats  would  scarcely 
ripen.  Now  it  is  nearly  all  wheat ;  and  oat-cakes  are 
almost  exploded.  We  sometimes  get  some  baked  as  a 
luxury." 

Later  on,  the  writer  proposed  that  his  brother  should 
pay  us  a  visit  at  Thorpe.  It  was  a  cross-country  journey, 
that  could  be  made  partly  by  train  and  partly  on  foot. 
He  himself  would  walk  twelve  miles  to  meet  him  at 
Pentrich.  This  village  was  associated  in  our  minds  with 
an  incident  that  had  occurred  to  a  friend  of  ours  a  few 
years  previously.  He  had  heard  one  night,  when  passing 
a  cottage  in  a  row,  the  drone  of  a  ranter's  prayer  inside, 


1857-66.]  WEST  HILL  LODGE.  125 

the  words  of  which  became  a  proverb  in  an  artistic 
circle :  "  0  Lord !  Thou  knowest  I  am  a  poor  lad  from 
Swanwick ;  Thou  knowest  I  can't  read ;  but  blessed  be 
Thy  name,  I  can  see  the  pictures." 

Eichard  Howitt  gladly  accepted  the  invitation.  He 
wrote  to  his  brother : — 

"May  27,  1859. — There  is  a  church  at  Pentrich,  for,  if 
you  remember,  it  was  for  it  that  John  Lister  proposed  to 
have  a  Parson  and  Pulpit  cast  at  the  Butterley  Iron- 
works.* That  will  be  the  most  certain  place  to  meet  at, 
for  what  or  how  many  public-houses  there  may  be  I 
don't  know.  If  you  leave  Thorpe  by  eight  o'clock,  I 
shall  be  at  the  churchyard  by  the  time  you  get  there. 
I  say  at,  for  in  is,  in  these  enclosing  days,  a  question 
to  be  asked.  Ours  here  is  locked  up,  Heanor  is,  and 
Pentrich  may  be." 

After  this  much-anticipated  meeting  had  been  suc- 
cessfully accomplished,  and  a  delightful  visit  paid  us 
by  Richard  Howitt,  my  daughter  Margaret  and  I 
made  a  charming  excursion  into  North  Staffordshire. 
We  started  on  June  9,  going  by  train  from  Ash- 
bourne,  reached  at  noon  Alton  Towers,  and  were  soon 
walking  in  the  sixty  acres  of  gardens  as  if  in  fairyland ; 
everywhere  beautified  by  brilliant  and  delicately  hued 
flowering  rhododendrons.  Now  it  is  a  Dutch  garden, 
very  trim  and  formal,  with  its  orangeries,  fountains,  and 
patterned  borders  in  the  midst  of  fine  gravel.  Now  it 
is  a  French  garden  in  the  style  of  Louis  Quatorze, 

*  This  "  cast-iron  parson "  had  been  mentioned  by  William  Howitt  some 
fifteen  years  earlier  to  Thomas  Carlyle,  who,  much  tickled  by  the  idea,  soon 
sued  it  in  print. 


I26  MARY  HO  WITT.  [CH-  1V- 

with  temples,  statues  of  nymphs  and  satyrs,  and  long 
alleys  bordered  with  flowers.  Now  a  Swiss  wilderness, 
where  in  the  old  times,  our  guide  tells  us,  "women 
worked  in  the  Swiss  costume.  My  lady  had  two  suits 
from  Switzerland  eveiy  year  for  each  woman.  They  did 
not  wear  them  out  of  the  gardens,  because  the  lads 
would  hoot  them.  This  did  once  happen  to  a  venturous 
sardeneress.  After  that  the  dress  was  alone  assumed 

\3 

within  the  park  palings."  Here  again,  though  the 
women  in  Swiss  attire  are  absent,  the  rhododendrons 
blaze  forth  in  close  communion  with  masses  of  golden 
broom  and  gorse.  Now  we  are  in  a  Chinese  garden, 
with  its  artificial  sheet  of  water,  bell-hung  fountain,  and 
pagoda,  its  carved  bridges,  its  quaint  groups  of  tall 
cypresses  or  yews  cut  into  queer  bell-shaped  forms  crown- 
ing circular  terraces,  and  which,  when  kept  in  perfect 
order,  was  a  living  picture  of  garden  life  in  the  Celestial 
Empire. 

Most  grand  palaces  and  ancestral  homes  have  an  old 
time  belonging  to  their  history ;  but  the  fair  demesne  of 
Alton  Towers,  dating  back  but  half  a  century,  had  risen 
up  in  my  childhood  with  surpassing  magnificence.  Hun- 
dreds and  thousands  of  pounds  had  been  lavished  upon 
it.  Silver  and  gold  and  precious  stones,  the  most  elabo- 
rately perfected  works  of  man  embellished  it.  The  castle 
and  grounds  formed  a  miracle  of  art  and  beauty,  destined, 
it  seemed,  to  last  until  time  should  be  no  more.  The 
great  Catholic  family  to  whom  it  belonged  seemed  to 
promise  equal  durability.  Strange  vicissitudes  had,  how- 
ever, occurred.  Fierce  winds  of  adversity  had  shaken 
to  its  foundations  the  ancient  house  of  Shrewsbury ;  all 
its  honours  were  stripped  and  scattered  abroad.  The 
seventeenth  Earl  had  died  unmarried,  on  August  10, 


1857-66.]  WEST  HILL  LODGE.  127 

1856.  The  direct  line  had  thus  become  extinct.  The 
lawyers,  like  eagles,  had  gathered  round  the  spoil,  and 
great  had  been  the  contest,  involving  not  only  titles  and 
lands,  but  religion.  On  June  i,  1858,  the  claim  of  the 
Protestant  Earl  Talbot  of  Ingestre  to  the  Earldom  of 
Shrewsbury  had  been  allowed.  On  June  8,  1859,  the 
day  previous  to  our  visit  to  Alton,  his  right  to  the 
Shrewsbury  estates  versus  Hope  Scott  and  other  Catholics 
had  been  decided  in  London.  The  verdict  had  not,  how- 
ever, reached  either  the  village  or  castle  ;  and  we  found 
doubt,  anxiety,  and  general  fear  prevailing. 

Passing  into  a  vast  court,  we  noticed  on  a  lofty 
tower  the  tattered  hatchment  flapping  in  the  wind. 
We  entered,  through  an  arched  doorway,  the  gorgeous 
Catholic  chapel,  and  were  led  onward  by  a  pale-faced 
young  man,  with  an  anxious,  depressed  countenance,  and 
who  could  not  speak  without  sighs.  To  him  each  orna- 
ment of  the  sacred  chapel  was,  as  it  were,  a  bit  of  his 
own  soul.  He  pointed  out  the  grand  pictures,  the 
jewelled  crucifix,  the  holy  emblazonment  of  the  altar, 
the  purport  of  each  gorgeous  painted  window.  Next 
he  drew  our  attention  from  the  rows  of  kneeling  angels, 
from  the  saints  and  the  Blessed  Sacrament  enshrined  in 
the  fair  and  costly  altar,  to  the  grand  organ  in  an 
opposite  upper  gallery.  "To  think,"  said  he,  "that  it 
has  been  silent  all  these  years." — "You  love  music 
then  ?  "  we  answered.  "  Better  than  anything  else  in  this 
world,"  was  his  reply. 

"  But  Mass  is  celebrated  here,"  I  remarked,  "  though 
there  is  no  family." — "  Only  Low  Mass,"  he  said,  with  a 
mournful  cadence,  "and  therefore  no  music." — "Do  not 
you  yourself  play  the  organ?"  we  asked.  "Yes,  when 
I  have  any  one  to  blow  for  me.  There  is  a  servant  who 


128 


MARY  HOWITT.  [en.  iv. 


does  so  when  he  can  be  spared,  and  a  man  in  the  village 
who  can  come  sometimes  in  an  evening.  It  is  a  splendid 
organ,  with  three  sets  of  keys."— "Will  you  not  play  for 
us?"  we  asked.  He  looked  at  us  with  his  melancholy 
eyes,  as  if  measuring  our  worthiness;  then  answered, 
"  Yes,  I  will." 

We  left  the  chapel  and  ascended  two  flights  of  stairs. 
The  first  landed  us  on  a  level  with  the  gilded  gallery,  in 
which  the  pious  family  and  their  friends  of  old  had 
prayed  before  their  Saviour;  the  next  brought  us  face 
to  face,  as  it  were,  with  the  mighty  slumbering  soul  of 
music,  which  that  sad  young  man  was  about  to  awaken. 
Of  course,  if  he  played  to  us,  we  must  blow,  and  mount- 
ing upon  a  low  step,  first  one  and  then  the  other  worked 
the  heavy  iron  handle  which  gave  breath  to  the  leviathan. 
The  next  moment  after  commencing,  the  lofty  chapel, 
from  the  highest  centre  of  its  roof  to  the  lowest  level  of 
its  floor,  seemed  throbbing  and  heaving  with  tempestuous 
swell  of  the  most  wonderful  melody.  Hard  work  it  was 
to  blow,  yet  light  indeed  for  such  repayment.  Not  more 
astonishing  than  the  pulsing,  surging  torrent  of  harmony 
which  pealed  forth  into  the  silence  was  the  total  change 
in  the  young  man's  being. 

No  longer  dim-eyed,  dreaming,  and  melancholy,  he 
sat  there  an  inspired  musician,  with  flushed  and  up- 
turned eye.  So  might  a  brother  of  St.  Cecilia  have 
appeared.  First  he  poured  forth  a  low,  mournful  sym- 
phony, as  if  all  the  surrounding  images  of  angels  were 
lamenting  the  sorrows  and  humiliation  of  the  Church. 
Anything  sadder,  grander,  more  heart-rending,  could  not 
be  conceived.  It  was  as  if  expression  were  here  given 
to  the  immense  woe  which  made  our  Lord  weep  over 
Jerusalem,  and  as  if  the  young  man  felt  the  long  silence 


1857-66.]  WEST  HILL  LODGE.  129 

of  the  organ,  the  decadence  of  the  old  Catholic  line,  the 
threatened  spoliation  of  the  chapel,  and  all  the  uncer- 
tainty of  the  future  were  bound  up  with  the  sorrow  of 
the  Divine  Master.  Then  followed  another  strain ;  above 
the  lamenting  voices  of  angels  was  heard  the  triumph 
of  the  Eternal  Church,  which  no  time,  no  change  could 
overturn ;  the  jubilant  utterance  of  thousands,  and 
tens  of  thousands,  whose  garments  were  washed  white 
in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb,  and  who  came  forth  from 
great  tribulation  and  suffering,  from  poverty  and  con- 
tempt, to  be  crowned  kings,  rejoicing  for  ever  and  for 
ever. 

It  was  a  wonderful  inspiration.  Pearly  drops  stood 
on  the  musician's  brow.  His  eyes  were  uplifted  as  if  he 
gazed  into  the  celestial  regions  of  which  he  prophesied, 
and  a  smile  of  indescribable  beauty  played  round  his 
parted  lips.  Thanks  seemed  poor  payment  for  this  sur- 
passing entertainment.  He  did  not  appear  to  expect 
them.  Hastily  wiping  the  keys  and  closing  the  organ, 
he  walked  before  us  downstairs  without  a  word.  I 
wished  from  my  heart  that  the  Catholic  heirs  might 
come  into  possession,  the  old  faith  and  worship  be  main- 
tained, and  he  be  chosen  organist. 

We  took  the  train  to  Froghall,  walked  to  the  rude 
moorland  village  of  Ipstones,  and  there  slept.  The 
next  morning  we  proceeded  on  our  way  to  Apsford,  the 
home  of  my  paternal  ancestors,  and  of  which  we  had 
deeds  dating  back  to  the  time  of  the  third  Richard.  In 
fact,  to  visit  it  was  the  chief  object  of  this  little  ex- 
cursion. On  we  went,  through  a  district  which  was 
unquestionably  moorland  half  a  century  earlier;  large 
desolate  fields  enclosed  with  stone  walls,  poor  land 
covered  with  marsh  ranunculus  and  cotton-rush.  Here 

VOL.  II.  I 


I30  MARY  HO  WITT.  [CH.  iv. 

and  there  the  surface  was  broken  up  into  high  ridges, 
around  and  upon  which  were  massed,  in  fantastic  con- 
fusion, piles  of  grey  rocks.  The  sky  was  grey,  and 
melancholy  brooded  over  all,  like  the  spirit  of  an  old 
northern  ballad. 

At  length  we  found  ourselves  at  the  edge  of  a  deep, 
wide  valley,  broken  up  into  little  round  hills,  splintered 
with  crags  and  shaggy  with  brambles,  bilberries,  and 
birch-trees.  A  shallow  stream  slowly  tracked  its  way 
along  the  bottom  of  the  chaotic  valley.  Ascending  the 
other  and  much  smoother  side,  we  found  ourselves  in 
the  fertile  pasture-fields  of  an  old  stone-built  farmhouse, 
standing,  with  its  out-buildings  and  barns,  among  aged 
elm  and  ash  trees.  This  was  Apsford.  The  farmer's 
wife,  in  a  clean  cap  with  bows  of  white  satin  ribbon, 
opened  the  door,  and  cheerfully  invited  us  in.  It  was 
a  large  room  into  which  we  entered,  with  a  bare  brick 
floor,  yet  comfortable  and  characteristic,  with  its  hand- 
some clock,  large  cupboard,  and  broad  benches  in  the 
wide  chimney.  In  the  window  stood  a  splendid  arum 
in  flower,  and  two  or  three  very  fine  calceolarias.  Of  our 
ancestors  we  could  learn  nothing.  The  present  farmer 
had  bought  the  place  twenty  years  previously  from 
"Mester  Cotterill,  who  bought  it  from  the  Squire,  and 
beyond  this  none  of  their  writings  went." 

After  leaving  Apsford  we  walked  many  miles  along 
the  limestone  high-road,  which,  looking  backward,  we 
could  trace  like  a  loosely  waving  white  ribbon  bleaching 
in  the  hot  afternoon  sunshine ;  then  wandering  into  a 
more  secluded  and  verdant  district,  we  reached  the  slum- 
berous village  of  Caldon,  lying  under  Caldon  Low,  the 
highest  point  of  the  round,  green  hills.  We  were  bound 
to  a  neat  grey  stone  house,  the  home  of  George  Wollis- 


1857-66.]  WEST  HILL  LODGE.  13 1 

croft,  who  had  been  for  many  years  a  trusted,  confiden- 
tial clerk  of  my  father's. 

In  an  upstairs  sitting-room  an  old  man  reposed  in  an 
arm-chair  near  the  window,  which  was  gay  with  scarlet 
cactus  and  white  geraniums.  He  was  attired  in  a  large, 
long  coat  and  picturesque  wideawake.  Invalid  habits  had 
accustomed  him  to  his  hat  until  it  had  become  a  portion 
of  himself.  The  broad  brim  cast  a  soft  shadow  upon 
his  handsome  countenance  and  well-chiselled  features. 
We  had  never  been  in  that  house  before,  yet  a  strange 
feeling  came  over  my  mind,  as  if  some  time  or  other, 
in  or  out  of  the  body,  I  had  been  there ;  had  gone 
up  the  flight  of  steps  into  the  small,  pleasant  parlour ; 
had  seen  the  old  patriarch  in  his  tall-backed  chair,  with 
his  little  table  and  big  Bible  before  him.  How  was  it  ? 
Whence  come  these  glimpses  as  of  a  past  experience  in 
that  which  is  but  now  occurring?  Whence  do  they 
come,  and  what  do  they  indicate  ? 

A  whole  generation  had  passed  since  George  Wollis- 
croft  and  I  last  met.  We  looked,  as  it  were,  over  the 
ocean  of  Time.  We  talked  of  many  voyagers — some 
gone  into  port  successfully,  others  yet  far  out  at  sea, 
driven  by  storms,  and  of  others  who  had  suffered  total 
shipwreck.  The  sun  of  peace  shone  calmly  on  the  old 
pilgrim,  the  billows  broke  softly  at  his  feet,  his  soul 
was  surely  anchored  on  the  Rock,  Christ,  and  he  calmly 
awaited  his  call  to  Eternal  Rest. 

The  shades  of  night  were  just  beginning  to  fall  as  we 
reached  the  beautiful,  prosperous  village  of  Ellastone, 
where  we  intended  to  sleep.  Here  all  seemed  festive. 
The  villagers  were  standing  at  the  doors  of  the  rose- 
embowered  cottages.  The  church  bells  were  ringing, 
till  the  very  air  seemed  full  of  melody  and  rejoicing. 


I32  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  iv. 

"And  why  are  they  ringing?"  we  ask.     "The  news  has 
come  from  London  city  that  the  Earl  of  Shrewsbury  has 

won ! " 

This  was  not  the  little  Viscount  Ingestre  of  my 
childhood,  but  his  next  brother,  for  he  had  died 
quite  young. 

In  October  1859  Anna  Mary  became  the  wife  of  Alaric 
Alfred  Watts.  By  this  marriage  we  gained  a  most  excel- 
lent son ;  the  ties  of  intimacy  with  our  old  friends,  his 
parents,  were  drawn  closer;  and  we  continued  to  enjoy 
constant  personal  intercourse  with  our  daughter,  for  her 
husband  settled  near  us. 

In  the  spring  of  1860  my  husband,  Margaret,  Sister 
Elizabeth — for  the  faithful  caretaker  of  my  children  had 
become  a  member  of  an  Anglican  sisterhood — and  I 
stayed  at  Well  House,  Niton,  just  within  the  fringe  of 
beauty  and  picturesqueness  which  borders  the  south-east 
side  of  the  Isle  of  Wight. 

In  our  rambles  under  the  clematis-festooned  cliff,  on 
the  rocky,  broken  meadow-ground,  and  by  the  sea-driven 
woods,  we  were  occasionally  accompanied  by  Sydney 
Dobell,  who,  suffering  from  rheumatism  of  the  heart, 
had  passed  the  winter  in  the  island.  He  idolised  Nature 
after  a  microscopic  fashion ;  hunted  amid  a  million 
primroses  for  one  flower  that  combined  in  the  hue  and 
shape  of  petals  and  stem  the  perfection  of  seven;  rap- 
turously studied  the  tints  of  the  sparrows'  backs,  assur- 
ing us  no  two  sparrows  were  alike ;  and  descanted  on 
the  varied  shades  of  grey  in  the  stone  walls.  Yet  even 
this  fatiguing  minuteness  of  observation  trained  the  eye 
to  perceive  the  marvellous  perfection,  beauty,  grace,  and 
diversity  of  colour  and  form  in  the  tiny  handiworks  of 
the  Almighty  Creator. 


1857-66.]  WEST  HILL  LODGE.  133 

On  Saturday,  April  21,  having  heard  from  Charlton 
that  he  was  coming  down  that  day  to  speak  with  us  on 
business,  and  should  walk  from  Cowes,  we  met  him  three 
miles  from  Niton,  on  the  Newport  road.  The  same 
evening,  when  going  with  him  to  Black  Gang,  and 
returning  by  the  shore,  we  were  much  affected  by  learn- 
ing his  desire  shortly  to  emigrate  to  New  Zealand,  as  an 
opening  had  just  occurred  for  his  settling  with  some  be- 
loved and  highly  valued  friends  of  ours  in  the  province  of 
Canterbury.  The  quiet  content  and  delight  with  which 
his  mind  rested  on  the  plan  showed  it  to  be  the  occupa- 
tion he  yearned  after.  We  had  prayerfully  to  weigh  the 
proposal  over  and  over  again  through  the  long  hours  of 
the  night  before  we  could  accept  the  idea.  By  the 
morning  his  father  and  I  both  felt  it  to  be  right,  and 
that  it  would  be  blessed. 

Charlton,  we  resolved  in  our  minds,  was  a  born  natu- 
ralist, and  possessed  every  taste  and  quality  needful  for 
a  settler  in  the  wilds.  As  a  quaint  child,  he  had  made 
the  most  extraordinary  disclosures  about  his  pet  bees, 
guinea-pigs,  and  bantams.  At  fourteen  he  had  espe- 
cially enjoyed  the  voyage  to  Australia,  for  the  sake  of 
the  whales,  the  mollemoke  he  caught,  and  the  little 
fly-catcher,  which  out  at  sea  had  spent  one  day  on 
deck. 

Notwithstanding  his  deep  human  affections,  he  was 
never  alarmed  by  the  solitude  of  the  Bush.  He  was 
never  fatigued,  never  discouraged — the  harder  the  life 
the  better.  On  his  return  from  Australia,  with  his  cus- 
tomary industrious,  uncomplaining  spirit,  he  had  made 
himself  useful,  for  upwards  of  five  years,  in  London 
commerce.  But  indefatigable  in  his  exertions,  he  was 
silently  nourishing  the  hope  of  eventually  emigrating, 


134 


MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  iv. 


and  had  kept  himself  in  training.  Besides  daily  thread- 
ing the  grimy,  thronged  streets  on  business,  he  walked 
to  and  from  the  City,  laboured  in  the  early  morning  or 
evening  hours  of  summer  in  his  large  kitchen-garden  ; 
in  winter  chopped  wood,  learnt  to  make  his  own  clothes, 
and  never,  if  he  could  avoid  it,  slept  in  a  bed,  but  on  the 
floor,  rolled  in  a  blanket  or  his  opossum  rug.  Yet  there 
was  no  exclusive  regard  to  his  own  advantage  :  he  offered 
his  hard-earned  savings  to  a  suddenly  embarrassed  friend, 
took  his  fresh  vegetables  to  the  old  women  in  the  alms- 
houses,  restored  a  poor  stray  dog  daubed  scarlet  by  house- 
painters  to  its  natural  colour  and  self-respect.  In  short, 
was  always  helping,  in  a  practical  way,  his  fellow-creatures. 
Thus,  as  we  reviewed  his  natural,  wholesome  tastes,  his  in- 
dustry, self-denial,  and  steadfastness  of  purpose,  we  were 
forced,  albeit  with  a  pang,  to  share  his  conviction,  that  it 
was  right  for  him  to  go. 

In  the  summer  he  studied  farming  in  Lincolnshire 
with  some  kind  relatives,  who  reported  him  "  a  desperate 
worker,  up  at  five  to  milk,  never  a  moment  idle,  and  talk- 
ing to  the  children  in  such  an  amusing  manner,  that  they 
hung  about  him  like  burrs." 

He  sailed  in  November  1860,  and  after  arriving  at 
Christchurch,  encountered  equally  with  our  friends  un- 
expected difficulties  and  disappointments.  Still  affecting 
all  primitive  modes,  and  wishful  to  redeem  a  neglected 
property  in  a  bay  near  Lyttelton,  he  dwelt  for  some  time 
in  a  slab-hut  on  the  slope  of  a  clearing  by  a  mountain 
torrent;  surrounded  by  a  happy  family  of  cats,  dogs, 
and  bipeds,  for  he  had  acquired  the  Maori  faculty  of 
calling  about  him  the  native  birds.  He  wrote  to  me 
in  December  1861,  that,  "though  he  did  not  express 
much,  he  thought  constantly  of  us,  and  liked  to  imagine 


1857-66.]  WEST  HILL  LODGE.  135 

what  we  each  were  about,  as  he  cleared  the  bush-land, 
set  potatoes,  and  made  butter.  Altogether  it  was  very 
pleasant." 

He  was,  in  fact,  enchanted  with  the  sublime  mountain 
and  forest  scenery,  and  the  different  varieties  of  animal 
and  vegetable  life  in  New  Zealand,  the  Switzerland  of 
the  Pacific.  It  so  happened  that  the  solid,  hard-working 
qualities  he  displayed,  and  his  freedom  from  all  colonial 
vices,  had  been  observed  by  members  of  the  Provincial 
Government,  and  in  August  1862  he  received,  to  his 
surprise,  a  summons  to  Government  House  on  important 
business.  It  was  to  engage  him  to  command  an  expe- 
dition to  examine  the  rivers  Hurunui  and  Taramakau, 
in  the  northern  part  of  the  Canterbury  province,  for  the 
purpose  of  ascertaining  whether  they  contained  gold. 
He  hesitated  to  accept  the  congenial  offer,  for  "what  if 
he  made  a  mess  of  it  ? "  until  urged  to  do  so  by  clear- 
sighted friends. 

In  September  he  began  following  up  the  Hurunui, 
one  of  the  innumerable  rivers  flowing  directly  east  or 
west  from  the  lofty  central  chain  of  Alps  which  traverses 
the  Middle  Island  from  north  to  south.  These  streams, 
owing  to  the  great  fall  into  the  sea,  have  a  most  rapid 
current,  which  will  often  sweep  away  a  man,  where  the 
water  is  not  more  than  two  feet  deep.  Charlton,  there- 
fore, to  assist  wayfarers,  erected  flags  as  signals  at  all 
passable  fords,  and  huts  for  shelter  along  the  horse-track, 
which  he  cut  from  the  head  of  the  river  through  the 
hitherto  undisturbed  Bush  over  a  saddle  of  the  central 
range. 

He  next  pursued  the  Taramakau  through  dense  forest 
to  the  western  beach ;  coming  upon  intimations  of  gold 
just  at  the  expiration  of  the  three  months  allotted  to  the 


I36  MARY  HO  WITT.  [CH.  iv. 

expedition.  With  the  exception  of  a  fortnight,  rain  or 
snow  had  fallen  daily,  making  camping  out  veiy  cold, 
and  the  men,  less  inured  than  their  leader  to  exposure 
and  drudgery,  refused  to  exceed  the  term.  The  explora- 
tion had,  however,  been  conducted  with  so  much  energy 
and  perseverance  under  great  difficulties,  that  on  his 
return  to  Christchurch  he  was  selected  as  the  most  fitting 
person  to  take  charge  of  an  expedition  to  open  up 
communication  between  the  Canterbury  plains  and  the 
newly  discovered  gold  and  coal  district  on  the  west 
coast;  especially  as  the  road  which  he  had  made  led 
more  than  half-way  thither. 

This  duty  was  faithfully  performed  under  constant 
hardships  and  discouragements.  But  a  few  miles  re- 
mained to  be  cut,  when,  at  the  end  of  June  1863,  after 
personally  rescuing  other  pioneers  and  wanderers  from 
drowning  and  starvation  in  that  watery,  inhospitable 
forest  region,  Charlton,  with  two  of  his  men,  went  down 
in  the  deep  waters  of  solitary  Lake  Brunner;  a  fatal 
accident  which  deprived  the  Government  of  a  valued 
servant,  and  saddened  the  hearts  of  all  who  knew  him. 

MAKT  HOWITT  TO  HER  DAUGHTER   MARGARET,   THEN   RESIDING 
WITH  MDLLE.  BREMER  IN  STOCKHOLM. 

"  West  Hill  Lodge,  Nov.  16,  1863.— It  is  with  a  very 
sad  heart  that  I  write  to  you  at  this  time.  Dear  Mdlle. 
Bremer  will  have  prepared  you  for  the  sorrowful  news, 
which  seems  incomprehensible ;  and  to  our  grief  for  his 
loss  is  added  our  anxiety  for  you.  But  the  great  Com- 
forter is  with  you  as  with  us ;  and  for  how  very  much 
we  have  to  be  thankful!  Few  bereaved  families  have 
more.  Charlton  had  been  instrumental  in  saving  several 
lives,  and  if  there  was  no  human  aid  near  to  save  him 


1857-66.]  WEST  HILL  LODGE.  137 

when  in  peril,  there  were  angels'  hands  to  lead  him  up  to 
a  higher,  safer  existence.  Thank  God  that  he  has  been 
given  us  to  love  and  rejoice  in ;  that  he  has  done  good 
work ;  that  he  has  saved  life,  not  taken  it ;  that  he  has 
been  a  pioneer  through  trackless  wastes,  opening  paths 
for  civilisation  and  peaceful  human  existence !  There 
is  not  a  spot  or  stain  upon  his  memory.  Publicly  and 
privately  he  has  been  a  true,  noble  Christian.  And  is 
it  not  sweet  and  lovely  to  know  that  his  home  letters 
were  found  in  his  swag  on  the  lake  shore.  It  shows 
how  he  treasured  them ;  and  then  comes  the  satisfaction 
that  we  were  permitted  never  to  fail  him  in  letters. 

"Your  poor  father  is  very  much  cut  up,  and  looks  very 
sad ;  yet  he  feels  all  these  sources  of  consolation,  and 
thanks  God  for  them.  In  some  small  degree  I  was  pre- 
pared for  the  terrible  news.  Last  Saturday  the  saddest 
sense  of  bereavement  possessed  my  soul.  I  was  per- 
suaded that  we  should  have  news  of  dearest  Charlton's 
departure.  I  was  so  distressed  that  I  almost  felt  unable 
to  do  my  work.  But  I  forcibly  put  the  feeling  aside 
as  fancy.  I  could  not  do  it  wholly.  In  the  evening, 
looking  at  the  photographs  of  you,  my  four  dear  children, 
my  depression  increased.  I  thought  how  good  Charlton 
had  always  been,  and  I  could  not  remember  one  instance 
through  his  whole  life  in  which  he  had  caused  me 
sorrow.  This  comforted  me,  and  was  doubtless  given 
to  me  for  consolation.  On  Monday  morning  dearest 
Annie  came  with  a  letter  from  your  cousin,  Edward 
Howitt,  bringing  the  terrible  news.  In  the  afternoon 
dear  Mrs.  Todhunter  arrived  with  all  the  official  papers, 
and  a  letter  from  one  of  the  town  authorities  of  Christ- 
church,  saying  that  all  would  be  done  to  show  honour 
to  his  memory." 


138  MAEY  HO  WITT.  [CH.  iv. 

What  a  mingled  skein  of  sorrow  and  joy  is  human 
life  !  A  month  after  the  crushing  intelligence  of 
Charlton's  sudden  removal,  at  the  age  of  twenty-five, 
reached  us  from  New  Zealand,  we  were  cheered  by  the 
news  of  our  son  Alfred's  happy  prospects  in  Australia. 
For  years  we  had  followed  his  movements  with  the 
deepest  anxiety;  in  1859,  as  he  successfully  executed 
an  arduous  journey  to  the  district  of  Lake  Torrens, 
where,  in  an  arid  region  of  parched  deserts,  bare,  broken, 
flat-topped  hills,  dry  watercourses,  and  soda-springs, 
whose  waters  effervesced  tartaric  acid,  he,  his  men,  and 
horses  were  consumed  with  thirst ;  in  1 860,  as  he  opened 
up  for  the  Victorian  Government  the  fine  mountainous 
district  of  Gippsland,  which  included  the  profitable  gold- 
field  of  the  Crooked  River;  and  in  1861,  when  head- 
ing the  Government  relief  party  intended  to  render 
assistance  to  the  missing  discoverer,  Robert  O'Hara 
Burke. 

Here  I  must  pause  to  remind  the  reader  that  Mr. 
Burke,  an  Irish  gentleman,  furnished  with  the  best-sup- 
plied exploring  expedition  which  ever  issued  from  a 
colonial  capital,  had  been  appointed  by  Victoria  to  accom- 
plish the  great  task  of  traversing  the  entire  Australian 
continent  from  south  to  north.  After  long  suspense, 
news  had  reached  the  Victorian  Government  that,  im- 
peded by  the  very  ample  outfit  and  by  the  dissensions 
and  disobedience  of  his  officers  and  men,  Burke  had 
from  stage  to  stage  dropped  behind  him,  by  frag- 
ments, detachments  of  his  men,  camels,  horses,  and  sup- 
plies ;  and  from  Cooper's  Creek,  taking  with  him  an 
under-officer,  Wills,  and  two  men,  Gray  and  King,  had 
pushed  on  for  the  Gulf  of  Carpentaria,  and  had  not  since 
been  heard  of. 


1857-66.]  WEST  HILL  LODGE.  139 

On  September  13,  1861,  Alfred  and  his  large  party 
came  to  Burke's  depot  at  Cooper's  Creek,  and  found 
papers  buried  in  the  cache,  informing  them  that  Burke 
and  Wills,  after  reaching  the  Gulf  of  Carpentaria  on 
February  n,  returned  on  April  22,  and  were  terribly 
disappointed  to  find  themselves  (although  after  date) 
abandoned  by  those  whom  they  had  left  in  charge  of 
the  depot.  A  search,  which  was  immediately  com- 
menced for  the  missing  explorers,  ended  in  the  dis- 
covery of  the  sole  survivor,  King — a  melancholy  object, 
wasted  to  a  shadow,  who  had  been  living  for  upwards 
of  two  months  with  a  friendly  tribe  of  aborigines.  Weak- 
ness, or  overjoy  at  his  rescue,  made  conversation  with 
him  difficult,  but  he  was  at  length  able  to  explain  the 
course  of  events. 

Gray,  who  had  been  accused  of  shamming  illness  by 
his  companions,  had  died  of  exhaustion  on  the  return 
journey.  The  impetuous  Burke,  after  reaching  Cooper's 
Creek,  and  when,  being  without  provisions,  their  strength 
gave  way,  taking  the  narrator  with  him,  had  made  a 
desperate  attempt  to  push  on  for  aid  to  the  cattle -station 
at  Mount  Hopeless.  He  left  the  gentle,  submissive 
Wills  behind,  with  a  supply  of  nardoo-seed,  which, 
pounded  into  flour  and  cooked  as  porridge,  afforded  a 
slight  nourishment.  Burke,  succumbing  in  the  effort, 
told  King  when  he  was  dying  to  put  his  pistol  in  his 
right  hand,  and  leave  him  unburied  as  he  lay.  After 
obeying  the  injunction,  the  survivor  returned  to  Wills, 
whom  he  found  a  corpse,  with  the  wooden  bowl  near 
him  in  which  he  had  prepared  his  last  meal  of  nardoo ; 
and  of  which,  poor  fellow!  he  had  written  it  was  not 
"  unpleasant  starvation." 


140 


MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  iv. 


Wills  breathed  his  last  in  a  native  hut,  erected  on  a 
sand-bank,  and  King  had  carefully  covered  the  remains 
with  sand ;  but  as  Alfred  discovered  that  they  had  been 
disturbed,  probably  by  dogs,  he  carefully  reinterred  all 
the  bones  that  could  be  found,  read  i  Corinthians  xv. 
over  them,  and  cut  an  inscription  on  an  adjacent  gum- 
tree.  He  found  Burke' s  skeleton  in  a  little  hollow,  lying 
face  upwards  in  a  bed  of  tall,  dead  marsh-mallows,  and 
shaded  by  a  clump  of  box-trees ;  under  it  a  spoon,  and  at 
its  side  the  loaded  and  capped  revolver.  He  consigned 
it  to  the  earth  wrapped  in  the  British  flag,  and  cut  an 
inscription  on  a  box-tree  to  indicate  the  spot. 

We  next  heard  of  our  son  being  employed  in  1862,  by 
command  of  the  Victorian  Government,  to  bring  the  bones 
of  the  two  ill-fated  explorers  to  Melbourne  for  public 
interment.  He  returned  with  his  sacred  charge  through 
South  Australia,  and  although  impeded  for  many  weeks 
by  rain  and  floods,  in  the  summer  month  of  December 
safely  reached  Adelaide.  There  he  received  an  enthusi- 
astic welcome  from  the  citizens,  and  enjoyed  the  hospi- 
tality of  Judge  Boothby,  the  fast  friend  and  political 
ally  of  my  husband,  dating  from  the  Nottingham  days. 
Under  his  roof  "Howitt  the  Explorer"  felt  singularly  at 
home ;  and  learnt  to  appreciate,  during  a  fortnight  of 
public  demonstrations,  whirl,  and  excitement,  the  grace 
and  domestic  virtues  of  his  future  wife.  Ministers  of 
state  and  crowding  thousands  attended  the  remains  of 
Burke  and  Wills  to  the  strains  of  the  Dead  March  in 
"  Saul,"  first  to  the  barracks,  where  they  were  tempo- 
rarily deposited ;  thence  to  the  steamer  Havillah,  which 
conveyed  them  to  Melbourne.  In  that  city  they 
were  buried  with  pomp  and  solemnity,  on  January  21, 
1863. 


1857-66.]  WEST  HILL  LODGE.  141 

It  was  the  joyful  intelligence  of  Alfred's  approaching 
union  with  Maria  Boothby,  and  his  settled  post  under 
Government  in  his  favourite  district,  Gippsland,  which 
had,  the  following  December,  so  much  soothed  us  in  our 
bereavement.  A  happy  and  most  useful  future  seemed 
in  store  for  him ;  and  this  promise,  under  a  merciful 
Providence,  has  hitherto  been  fulfilled.*1 

A  few  passages  taken  from  the  voluminous  family  corre- 
spondence will  now  sufficiently  indicate  the  manner  of 
life  led  at  West  Hill  Lodge. 

MARY  HOWITT  TO  HER  DAUGHTER  MARGARET. 

"  May  23,  1 86 1. — On  Sunday  your  father  and  I  went  to 
the  Batemans',  of  Clapton,  as  a  farewell  visit  to  them  at 
The  Elms.  Then,  when  they  were  gone  to  chapel,  we  went 
to  the  Freiligraths',  and  had  a  very  nice  call.  I  am  quite 
charmed  with  Katchen,  now  in  her  sixteenth  year,  a 
sweet,  artless,  lively  young  creature,  a  blending  of  the 
girl  and  the  woman.  I  want  to  make  her  acquainted 
with  your  cousins  ;  they  would  be  delighted  to  know 
her. 

"  On  Monday  your  father,  Annie,  Alfred,  and  I  went 
to  a  very  grand  evening  '  At  Home '  at  Mrs.  Milner 
Gibson's.  Such  a  crush,  such  a  jam  of  carriages  in 
the  street,  such  a  crowd  on  the  pavement  to  see  the 
arrivals  !  Everybody,  almost,  was  there.  Gentlemen  in 
ribbons  and  stars  ;  ladies  blazing  in  diamonds,  in  silks 
that  would  stand  on  end,  and  gossamer  dresses  like 

*  "  Le  jeune  Howitt,  I'heureux  explorateur"  as  the  Count  de  Beauvoir  calls 
him  in  his  work  on  Australia,  has  since  that  period  been  successfully  employed 
in  other  public  undertakings.  He  has,  in  connection  with  his  duties  as  Gold 
Warden  in  Gippsland,  devoted  much  attention  to  geology.  He  has  likewise 
published  with  a  friend,  the  Rev.  Lorimer  Fison,  a  learned  work  on  some  of 
the  Australian  aborigines,  entitled  "  Kamilaroi  and  Kurnai." 


142 


MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  iv. 


spider-webs  ;  ambassadors  white  and  black.  Yes,  black  ; 
for  he  of  Hayti  was  there.  We  saw  actually  almost 
everybody  we  knew — the  Dickenses,  Thackeray,  literary 
people  without  end,  and  lots  of  Members  of  Parliament. 

The  M s  were  there  ;  and  when  I  saw  Emily,  with  the 

same  face  that  I  had  known  so  well  of  old,  I  felt,  not- 
withstanding her  estrangement  from  us,  a  great  kindness 
spring  up  in  my  heart  towards  her.  I  went  to  her  and 
offered  her  my  hand ;  but  with  concentrated  scorn  and 
contempt  she  turned  away,  saying,  'No,  she  would  not 
shake  hands  with  me.'  I  have  sometimes  thought,  when 
praying  '  Forgive  us  our  trespasses,  as  we  forgive  those 
who  trespass  against  us,'  that  I  never  had  such  to  forgive, 
for  all  are  kind  and  good  to  me.  I  walked  quietly  away, 
and  thought  that  here  at  least  was  one  to  be  forgiven.* 
In  writing  don't  speak  of  this,  because  it  would  be  very 
painful  to  your  father  to  know  what  had  occurred." 

MKS.  ALFRED  WATTS  TO  HER  SISTER. 

"June  10,  1 86 1. — Yesterday  Adelaide  Procter  was  with 
us  for  the  afternoon  and  evening — the  second  time  that  she 
has  been  to  see  us  lately.  I  like  her  as  much  as  I  like  her 

poetry.    I  mean  to  bring  her  and  Julia  L acquainted, 

for  they  are  quite  sisters.  Miss  Procter  believes  all  that 
is  most  holy  and  wonderful  in  spiritualism,  for  all  fervent 
Catholics  more  or  less  experience  the  same.  This  has 
brought  us  very  near  in  the  spirit.  Many  of  the  most  won- 
derful teachings  which  I  have  received  spiritually,  I  find, 
are  received  by  the  most  introverted  Catholics.  Is  it  not 
interesting  ?  She  and  Julia  are  made  to  know  each  other." 

*  The  lady,  who  was  then  labouring  under  a  misapprehension,  later  evinced 
a  spirit  of  conciliation. 


1857-66.]  WEST  HILL  LODGE.  143 

MARY  HOWITT  TO  HER  YOUNGER  DAUGHTER. 

"June  20,  1 86 1. — We  went  to  a  great  pre-Raphaelite 
crush  on  Friday  evening.  Their  pictures  covered  the 
walls,  and  their  sketch-books  the  tables.  The  uncrino- 
lined  women,  with  their  wild  hair,  which  was  very  beau- 
tiful, their  picturesque  dresses  and  rich  colouring,  looked 
like  figures  out  of  the  pre-Raphaelite  pictures.  It  was 
very  curious.  I  think  of  it  now  like  some  hot,  struggling 
dream,  in  which  the  gorgeous  and  fantastic  forms  moved 
slowly  about.  They  seemed  all  so  young  and  kindred  to 
each  other,  that  I  felt  as  if  I  were  out  of  my  place,  though 
I  admired  them  all,  and  really  enjoyed  looking  over  Dante 
Rossetti's  huge  sketch-book. 

"  On  Saturday  afternoon  the  Hon.  Mrs.  C came  to 

inquire  of  me  about  spiritualism  as  we  understand  it, 
because  from  the  religious  point  of  view  she  can  alone 
accept  it.  She  stayed  about  three  hours.  She  is  seek- 
ing for  an  inner  life,  for  a  closer  communion  with  the 
Saviour,  than  she  finds  in  the  outward  forms  of  the 
Church  of  England.  She  begged  that  the  Marchioness 
of  Londonderry  might  come  also,  and  hear  what  we  had 
to  say  on  the  same  important  subject.  It  was  arranged, 
therefore,  that  she  was  to  come  on  Tuesday,  I  thinking 
that  if  it  was  our  dear  Lord's  will  that  these  great  ladies 
came  to  such  a  poor  little  fountain  as  myself,  He  would 
supply  the  water,  and  therefore  I  left  all  in  His  hands. 

"  On  Tuesday  I  was  so  tired  that  I  could  do  nothing 
but  read  Mdlle.  Bremer's  work  preparatory  to  translation. 
In  the  afternoon  Lady  Londonderry  came.  I  had  to  tell 
her  of  our  higher  experiences  and  teachings,  all  of  which 
seemed  to  interest  her.  Her  eyes  filled  with  tears  as 
she  looked  at  Annie's  drawings.  She  knew  her  'Art 
Student,'  and  was  evidently  a  lover  of  art.  She  stayed 


144 


MARY  HO  WITT.  [CH.  iv. 


about  two  hours.  She  was  leaving  for  the  Continent 
the  next  day,  but  asked  to  be  allowed,  on  her  return, 
to  come  again,  and  also  that  a  friend  of  hers,  a  priest, 
might  come  and  have  some  talk  with  us." 

"July  10,  1 86 1. — Annie  and  Adelaide  Procter  had  a 
very  pleasant  and  most  interesting  visit,  the  day  before 
yesterday,  to  Julia  at  Hampton  Court.  Julia  was  ill, 
and  suffering,  but  she  and  Adelaide  made  in  the  spirit 
a  wonderful  compact  of  love  and  unity.  I  fancy  great 
good  will  grow  out  of  this  visit. 

"Adelaide  Procter  gave  Annie  many  beautiful  and  touch- 
ing particulars  of  Mrs.  Browning's  death.  She  did  not 
appear  to  suffer  much,  and  became  quite  conscious  before 
her  departure.  She  spoke  to  her  husband  very  calmly 
of  the  beautiful  land  to  which  she  was  going,  and  which 
she  already  saw.  Everybody  is  especially  sorry  for  her 
little  boy,  who  has  never  been  away  from  his  mother's 
side.  I  cannot  myself  doubt  but  that  her  loving  spirit 
will  be  permitted  to  watch  over  him,  now  with  even 
greater  yearning  and  affection  than  before." 

To  MRS.  ALFRED  WATTS. 

"  Penmaenmawr,  Oct.  6,  1861. — Yesterday  was  a  busy 
day  to  me,  in  this  way.  I  had  been  very  anxious  to  write 
the  poem  I  had  promised  Adelaide  Procter  for  the  '  Vic- 
toria Eegia.'  I  was  afraid  I  could  not  manage  it.  How- 
ever, in  the  night  my  mind  was  filled  with  a  subject 
which  came  veiy  clearly,  and  yesterday  I  wrote  it.  I 
hope  it  is  good,  for  I  have  a  great  desire  to  stand  well 
amongst  the  women." 

"  Oct.  13,  1 86 1. — We  have  had  a  wild,  bright  autumnal 


1857-66.]  WEST  HILL  LODGE.  145 

day,  clouds  scudding  over  the  mountains,  the  tide  very 
high,  the  sea  the  colour  of  bottle-glass,  ruffled  and 
crested  over  with  spray.  I  have  such  pleasure  in  watch- 
ing the  features  of  the  sea.  Your  father  is  reading  at  this 
moment  '  The  Co-operator,'  a  year's  volume  of  the  paper 
published  by  the  co-operative  people  in  Manchester,  who 
seem  to  be  doing  wonders.  They  have  now  a  capital  of 
two  millions,  a  cotton-factory,  shops,  and  mills,  and  are 
really  making  great  headway.  It  is  a  fine  movement, 
and  he  is,  of  course,  extremely  interested  in  it,  because 
he  was  one  of  the  earliest  advocates  of  co-operation. 
He  now  seems  to  see  a  remedy  for  a  great  many  evils 
under  which  the  age  and  the  race  are  growing.  It 
is  a  wonderful  step  forward  in  the  right  direction.  I 
expect,  now  that  the  '  History  of  England '  is  just  com- 
pleting,''" and  your  father  more  at  leisure,  that  he  will 
work  for  it.  I  so  thoroughly  believe  that  the  smallest 
events  are  ordered  by  a  Higher  Power,  if  we  will  only 
let  It  be  our  guide,  that  I  open  my  mind  to  the  idea." 

"  Farnsfield,  Nov.  23,  1861. — My  dearest  daughters, 
we  are,  you  see,  at  your  aunt  Elizabeth's,  where  we 
have  had  a  most  kind  reception.  It  was  regular  winter 
at  Heanor;  from  the  windows  a  wide  white  landscape 
and  the  bright  sun  shining  golden  on  the  tops  of  the 
bare  and  the  half-leafless  trees.  Your  uncle  Francis  and 

*  William  Howitt  had  been  engaged  for  several  years  by  John  Cassell  on  a 
"  History  of  England."  Lord  Brougham,  at  the  opening  of  the  Social  Science 
Congress  at  Glasgow,  and  in  reference  to  the  paper-duty,  said,  "John  Cassell's 
'History  of  England,'  in  penny  numbers,  circulates  100,000  weekly."  He 
also  characterised  it  as  a  history  "  in  which  the  soundest  principles  are  laid 
down  in  almost  every  instance.  The  interests  of  virtue,  of  liberty,  and  of 
peace,  the  best  interests  of  mankind,  are  faithfully  and  ably  maintained 
throughout." 

VOL.  II.  K. 


I46  MARY  HO  WITT.  [en.  iv. 

aunt  Maria  gave  us  a  most  cordial  welcome ;   and  we 
went  to  meeting  with  the  dear  people." 

To  CHARLTON  HOWITT  IN  NEW  ZEALAND. 

"Feb.  19,  1862. — Tell  us  everything  about  yourself. 
You  do  not,  or  you  would  not  have  left  us  to  hear  of 
your  heroic  conduct  at  the  Kays'  in  the  fire,  when  you 
rushed  in,  with  a  wet  blanket  over  your  head,  and  saved 
all  that  was  saved.  Mr.  Joseph  Kay  told  us  of  it  at 
Miss  Coutts's  the  other  evening.  And  Sir  James  Kay 
Shuttleworth  was  so  full  of  you  and  your  noble  con- 
duct, and  steady,  hard-working,  trustworthy  character, 
that  he  wished  it  were  possible  for  you  to  join  his 
brother. 

"For  ourselves,  dear  Charlton,  we  are  a  solitary  old 
couple  just  now.  Meggie  is  at  Penmaenmawr,  and  is 
gathering  together  the  material  for  a  three-volume  story 
which  I  have  engaged  to  write  for  Mr.  Blackett.  Your 
father  is  still  busy  on  his  '  Lex  Magna '  or  the  '  Great 
Law'  of  the  supernatural  which  pervades  the  universe. 
The  subject  becomes  to  him  more  and  more  interesting 
the  further  he  advances.  I  am  just  now  commencing 
the  translation  of  another  work  of  Mdlle.  Bremer's, 
Greece  and  its  islands.  Last  year  I  translated  her 
'  Holy  Land.' " 

THE  SAME  TO  THE  SAME. 

"March  12,  1862.— We  spent  recently  a  very  pleasant 
evening  at  Dr.  Blatherwick's,  with  our  neighbours,  Lord 
and  Lady  DufFerin.  You  know  who  they  are.  He  is 
one  of  the  Queen's  equerries,  and  a  great  favourite  at 
Court ;  and  she — his  mother— is  the  sister  of  the  Hon. 
Mrs.  Norton  and  the  Duchess  of  Somerset,  who  was  the 


1857-66.]  WEST  HILL  LODGE.  147 

Queen  of  Love  and  Beauty  at  the  Eglinton  tournament. 
They  are  most  agreeable,  with  all  that  charming  ease 
and  grace  of  manner  which  belongs  to  their  class.  She 
was  very  merry  about  their  gipsying  frolic  on  Bookham 
Common,  when  they  encountered  your  father,  and  got 
put  into  a  book.  She  says  that  Lord  DufTerin,  who  was 
then  about  eleven,  was  dressed  up  as  a  little  gipsy  girl ; 
but  your  father  did  not  see  him.  She  persists  that  he 
gave  them  eighteenpence.  He  says  '  no ; '  but  she  says 
'yes.'  So  how  it  was  I  cannot  tell.  Lord  Dufferin 
interested  us  very  much  by  telling  us  about  his  travels 
in  Nubia  and  amongst  the  Druses.  Still  more  so  about 
the  discoveries  of  his  friend  Cyril  Graham,  who  has  come 
upon  the  most  wonderful  cities  in  some  remote  deserts 
on  this  side  the  Euphrates.  They  are  so  immensely  old 
that  nothing  is  known  of  them,  and  they  are  shunned 
by  the  Arabs  as  haunted.  Some  Arabs  told  him  about 
a  vast  city  called  '  The  White  City,'  built  by  the 
daughter  of  the  King  of  the  Panthers.  After  much 
persuasion  he  induced  some  Arabs  to  accompany  him 
to  the  place.  Far,  far  away,  many  days'  journey  in  the 
desert,  they  came  upon  what,  in  the  distance,  looked  like 
a  low  range  of  white  hills.  It  was  the  walls  of  'The 
White  City.'  All  was  apparently  in  perfect  preservation. 
The  gates  in  the  walls  stood  half-open — huge  white  stone 
gates  on  their  ponderous  stone  hinges,  as  if  the  inhabitants 
had  only  just  passed  out  of  them.  It  was  the  same  with 
the  substantial  white  stone  houses.  But  there  have  been 
no  dwellers  there  for  thousands  of  years. 

"  One  of  the  most  beautiful  features  in  Lord  Dufferin's 
character  is  his  attachment  to  his  mother.  He  has  un- 
bounded admiration  for  her,  and  she,  a  lovely,  most  gifted 
woman,  has  the  same  for  him.  He  told  us  that  when  he 


,48  MARY  HOWITT.  [en.  iv. 

came  of  age  his  mother  wrote  him  some  very  beautiful 
lines  ;  and  as  he  wished  to  show  his  love  and  respect  for 
her,  and  in  order  to  do  honour  to  these  verses,  he  deter- 
mined to  build  a  tower  on  his  Irish  estate  to  contain 
them.  Accordingly  he  built  at  Clandeboye  what  he  calls 
'Helen's  Tower.'  To  make  it  still  more  worthy,  he 
asked  Tennyson  to  give  him  an  inscription  for  it.  Tenny- 
son did  so  by  return  of  post.  He  repeated  these  lines  to 
us.  I  am  sorry  I  can  remember  but  four  of  them,  which, 
if  not  literally  these,  are  very  like  them  : — 

'  Helen's  Tower,  here  I  stand, 
Dominant  over  sea  and  land. 
Son's  love  built  me,  and  I  hold 
Mother's  love  engraved  in  gold.' 

"  Then  it  goes  on  to  say  that  the  Tower,  being  only 
'  stone  and  lime,'  would  perish  by  the  hand  of  Time,  but 
mother's  love  was  immortal. 

"  Lady  Dufferin  and  Lady  Jane  Hay  were  here  the 
other  afternoon.  After  their  call,  your  father  met  them 
again  in  Millfield  Lane,  where  some  rude  lads  had  been 
throwing  stones,  not  only  at  each  other,  but  at  them. 
He  could  not  leave  them  unprotected  amongst  the  young 
savages,  and  at  their  request  escorted  them  home." 

To  MRS.  ALFRED  WATTS. 

"  Pen-y-Bryn,  Aber,  May  20,  1862. — Please  let  our 
maids  fetch  my  Bible  from  my  seat  in  the  Congregational 
Chapel — it  is  an  old  one  that  I  greatly  value ;  and 
remember  me  very  kindly  to  them,  and  say  I  hope  they 
go  regularly  to  chapel. 

"  I  shall  think  of  you  most  lovingly  to-morrow,  when 
you  have  your  visitor.  It  will  be  made  agreeable  to  you, 
I  believe,  and  all  the  sting  and  bitterness  be  removed. 


1857-66.]  WEST  HILL  LODGE.  149 

Be  very  quiet ;  let  your  guest  talk,  resting  with  a  prayer 
in  your  soul  for  God's  holy  peace.  We  are  reading  of  an 
evening  a  very  excellent  essay  on  the  '  Miracles  of  Ecclesi- 
astical History  of  the  Early  Ages,'  by  John  Henry  Newman. 
I  am  sure  these  Roman  Catholics  are  very  near  the  truth. 
Ask  Adelaide  Procter  if  she  knows  it,  and  do  give  my 
love  to  her." 

To  CHARLTON  HOWITT. 

"  Pen-y-Bryn,  May  23,  1862. — Here  we  are  again  in 
Wales  ;  and  I  shall  get  Annie,  who  is  coming  to  us,  to 
make  a  sketch  of  this  nice  old  place  for  you. 

"I  am  glad  to  tell  you  that  Miss  Meteyard,  who  always 
behaves  so  nobly  to  her  relatives,  is  getting  on  in  the 
world.  It  is  really  most  pleasant  to  think  of  her  enjoy- 
ing a  little  sunshine  after  all  the  shadows  which  she 
has  had  in  her  life.  We  have  been  instrumental  in  her 
obtaining  ^1000  for  her  biography  of  Wedgwood.  The 
MSS.  from  which  she  is  writing  it  have  been  lent  her 
by  a  gentleman  of  Liverpool,  who  met  with  them  in  a 
very  curious  way.  They  had  been  sold  as  refuse-paper 
to  a  marine  store-dealer,  who  had  an  attic  full  of  them. 
He  could  do  nothing  with  a  great  portion  of  them,  as 
they  were  not  suited  to  sell  to  butter-and-cheese-men. 
They  proved  to  be  the  private  papers,  ledgers,  and 
journals  of  Wedgwood,  the  great  genius  of  the  Stafford- 
shire Potteries.  They  were  invaluable,  yet  to  the  marine 
store-dealer  they  were  rubbish,  and  he  was  glad  to  part 
with  them  for  a  small  sum." 

Pen-y-Bryn,  which  we  were  occupying  during  the  early 
summer  of  1862,  was  a  very  old,  dilapidated,  but  pictur- 
esque, ivy-covered  farm-house,  standing  on  a  pleasant  knoll, 


MARY  HOWITT. 


[CH.  IV. 


facing  the   Menai    Straits   and   Anglesey,  with   wooded 
mountains  at  the  back. 

Our  landlord,  Mr.  Jones,  was  a  tenant  farmer,  and  a 
widower  with  a  grown-up  son.  Winifred,  their  middle- 
aged  cook  and  housekeeper,  was  good-tempered,  loqua- 
cious, Welsh  to  the  backbone,  with  bright,  brown  eyes, 
a  keen  intellect,  and  very  communicative.  Until  Mrs. 


PEN-Y-BRYN. 


Jones's  death,  she  told  us,  she  had  been  housekeeper  at 
the  Castle  Hotel,  Conway,  where  she  left  two  hundred 
tongues  in  pickle.  By  the  bye,  it  was  a  mistake  to  call 
Pen-y-Bryn  the  identical  palace  of  the  princes  of  North 
Wales,  that  had  stood  on  the  round  green  mound  by  the 
village ;  or  to  say  that  from  the  topmost  window,  now 
partially  closed,  in  the  old  tower,  Llewellyn  had  shown 
his  faithless  wife  the  body  of  her  Black  William  hanging 


1857-66.]  WEST  HILL  LODGE.  151 

on  a  tree  in  the  garden.  No ;  the  present  house  was 
built  in  the  French  style  by  one  of  King  Henry  VIII. 's 
agents,  who  had  dealings  with  France. 

Winifred  was  an  industrious  reader  of  her  weekly 
Welsh  paper,  and  a  long  way  ahead  of  us  in  politics. 
The  revised  code  of  education  had  just  come  into  opera- 
tion, and  she  feared  its  effect  on  the  Welsh  schools.  "  In 
a  debate  in  Parliament,"  she  remarked,  "  the  member  for 
Bangor, — shame  on  him  ! — had  set  light  by  the  Welsh 
tongue,  but  her  paper  had  given  him  an  excellent  dress- 
ing. Then  there  was  '  Essays  and  Reviews,'  one  of  the 
seven  writers  being  the  Rev.  Dr.  Rowland. Williams,  a 
Welshman.  She  wondered  would  he  be  suspended.  She 
too  found  the  Bible  admitted  of  great  differences  of  in- 
terpretation ;  she  nevertheless  stuck  by  the  miracles,  but 
did  not  push  the  supernatural  so  far  as  to  believe  in 
apparitions.  King  David  had  settled  the  point  when  he 
said  he  should  go  to  his  dead  child,  but  it  would  not 
return  to  him.  Still  less  did  she  pin  her  faith  on  the 
knockers  who  were  said  to  be  heard  in  these  parts  wher- 
ever treasure  was  hidden.  She  was,  however,  no  sceptic, 
as  every  Welsh  reader  might  see  in  her  printed  essay  on 
'  Time,  the  Creature  of  God.' " 

Returning  on  this  occasion  to  Aber,  after  an  absence 
of  four  years,  we  perceived  that  if  the  Welsh  are  capable 
of  long  resentment,  they  are  equally  so  of  long  gratitude. 
As  we  were  desirous  of  hiring  a  horse,  two  young  men 
named  Roberts  begged  us  "  to  accept  the  use  of  their 
pony  for  some  days,  out  of  respect."  Asking  an  explana- 
tion, the  brothers  said,  "  They  would  take  no  money  for 
several  excursions,  because  we  had  earlier  shown  sympathy 
when  their  cow  died,  and  had  been  in  the  habit  of  talk- 
ing to  their  old  mother."  I  could  cite  other  instances 


IS2  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  iv. 

corroborating  an  assertion  made  to  us  by  Dr.  Norton, 
an  experienced  English  physician  settled  in  Wales,  that 
"  the  Welsh  are  the  most  grateful  people  he  ever  knew." 

An  Englishman  of  high  position,  who  did  much  to 
promote  the  progress  of  agriculture  on  his  Welsh  estates, 
and  to  infuse  into  the  kindly  but  lymphatic  race  a  spirit 
of  improvement,  good  management,  and  general  alertness, 
had  lately  bought  considerable  property  at  Aber,  includ- 
ing Pen-y-Bryn.  He  was  not  aware — so  his  new  tenantry 
believed — of  the  head  gamekeeper  encouraging  an  enor- 
mous increase  of  rabbits,  which  ate  up  the  pasturage, 
until  the  cattle  had  to  be  driven  from  field  to  field  in 
search  of  grazing  ground.  The  rabbits  were  the  keeper's 
perquisite,  and  he  meant  to  kill  them  off  for  market 
before  his  master  came  for  pheasant-shooting  in  autumn. 
From  the  end  of  June  the  cruel  system  began  of  catching 
the  rabbits  in  toothed  traps,  which,  after  being  set,  were 
never  visited  under  twenty-four  hours. 

Mr.  Jones  and  his  son,  as  tenants,  were  afraid  to  meddle 
with  the  proceedings  of  the  keepers,  although  the  latter 
set  five  traps,  to  the  great  danger  of  the  shepherd-dogs 
and  lambs  in  the  paddock  behind  Pen-y-Bryn,  where  not 
a  rabbit-hole  was  found.  Nor  was  it  long  before  we  were 
suddenly  awakened  one  midnight  by  the  terrible  howls  of 
a  dog,  evidently  caught  in  one  of  these  traps.  It  proving 
impossible  to  rouse  the  Joneses,  William  threw  on  part 
of  his  dress,  ran  up  the  field,  and  released  the  victim, 
a  handsome  shepherd-dog  and  general  favourite,  which, 
though  recognising  its  deliverer,  snapped  in  its  agony 
and  bit  his  arm. 

This  misadventure  brought  matters  to  a  climax  so  far 
as  our  stay  at  Aber  was  concerned,  more  especially  as 
two  of  the  under-keepers  called  on  my  husband  to  desire 


1857-66.]  WEST  HILL  LODGE.  153 

him  to  keep  up  his  own  little  dog  Prin,  a  creature 
ignorant  of  game.  He  could  not  stand  this  injustice, 
so  we  quitted  picturesque  Pen-y-Bryn,  which,  if  the  truth 
must  be  told,  was  much  infested  with  rats,  and  when 
shut  up  at  night,  considerably  musty,  fusty,  and  dry- 
rotty. 

We  went  back,  therefore,  to  another  favourite  haunt, 
Penmaenmawr,  and  took  up  our  quarters  in  Plas  Isa,  a 
new  house,  loftily  situated,  where  we  had  the  unmarried 
sister  of  Charles  Darwin  for  fellow-lodger,  and  where  we 
enjoyed  a  glorious  view  of  open  sea,  the  fine  promontory 
of  the  Great  Orme's  Head,  rocky  Puffin  Island,  and  the 
flat,  wooded  shore  of  Anglesey. 

Our  stay  at  Pen-y-Bryn  arid  the  incident  with  the  trap 
had  the  beneficial  result  of  drawing  public  attention  to 
the  cruel  system  of  trapping  carried  on  in  game-preserves. 
My  husband,  who  had  its  abolition  much  at  heart,  wrote 
eloquent  letters  on  the  subject  in  the  Morning  Star, 
which  was  the  principal  cause,  as  stated  by  the  Secretary, 
that  the  Committee  of  the  Royal  Society  for  the  Preven- 
tion of  Cruelty  to  Animals,  offered  a  reward  of  ^50  for 
an  improved  vermin-trap  to  supersede  the  cruel  ones 
generally  used.  One  hundred  models  were  sent  in,  and 
the  Committee  invited  him  to  give  them,  with  other 
competent  judges,  the  advantage  of  his  experience  in  the 
examination  of  these  traps. 

In  this  inspection,  on  May  24,  1864,  he  saw  a  great 
number  of  admirable  inventions,  but  none  likely  to  super- 
sede the  old  rat-trap  in  use  by  millions  all  over  Great 
Britain  and  Wales.  Most  of  the  inventions,  such  as  the 
coffer-trap,  the  pit-fall,  and  weight-fall,  had  been  in  exist- 
ence in  some  form  for  centuries,  but  none  could  compete 
in  cheapness,  lightness,  and  efficacy  with  the  old  rat-trap, 


154 


MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  iv. 


which,  easily  set,  fixed  its  steel  fangs  in  the  leg  of  any 
vermin,  from  a  fox  to  a  mouse,  and  though  causing  excru- 
ciating agony,  preserved  it  alive.  The  publicity  given  by 
my  husband's  knowledge  of  the  rabbit  cruelties  occasioned 
many  humane  and  influential  individuals,  amongst  them 
notably  Charles  Darwin  and  his  wife,  to  work  vigorously 
for  the  abolition  of  the  system  of  torture,  and  on  various 
estates  it  was  promptly  prohibited. 

A  glance  at  some  of  the  correspondence  of  this  period 
must  bring  this  long  chapter  to  a  close. 

MARY  HOWITT  TO  Miss  LLOYD  JONES. 

"  West  Hill  Lodge,  Oct.  29,  1863. — Thank  you  for 
your  last  kind  note,  with  its  news  about  yourselves 
and  dear  old  Penmaenmawr,  of  which  I  am  so  fond. 
Once  more  I  have  begun  my  work  "  (the  novel  laid  in  the 
neighbourhood  of  Penmaenmawr,  and  called  "  The  Cost 
of  Caergwyn  "),  "  and  I  hope  now,  with  God's  blessing,  to 
bring  it  to  a  speedy  conclusion.  But  I  still  want  your 
help,  and  am  more  obliged  to  you  than  I  can  tell  for  the 
aid  you  have  given.  I  wrote  to  Mr.  Newman  Hall,  when 
he  was  at  Llandudno,  to  ask  Mr.  Parry  some  questions 
for  me,  as  I  think  he  told  you  ;  and,  after  all,  it  seems  I 
was  indebted  to  you  for  some  of  the  answers.  Please  tell 
me  how  the  announcements  of  preachers  at  the  chapels 
are  headed.  I  need  this  in  Welsh  in  the  true  form.  I 
have  seen  such  placards,  which  seem  to  me  to  begin,  '  Y 
Parch  Silas  Richards,'  and  so  on. 

"The  regular  autumn  storms  appear  to  be  commencing 
with  us.  We  have  had  for  the  last  two  days  a  wild  west 
wind,  which  has  howled  and  raved  round  the  house  and 
down  the  chimneys  like  a  regular  fury.  How  grand  it 
must  be  with  you !  I  have  been  living  in  your  country, 


1 85 7-66. J  WEST  HILL  LODGE.  155 

however,  all  this  summer  ;  I  have  had  all  seasons  in  it ; 
and  very  pleasant  it  has  been  to  me." 

To  MARGARET  HOWITT. 

"  Scalands-Gate,  April  9,  1864. — On  Tuesday  it  was 
bitterly  cold,  with  sleet,  but  I  had  written  to  Mrs.  Burgess, 
the  wife  of  the  gamekeeper  in  Barbara's  house,  to  say  we 
were  coming ;  and  so  come  I  did  with  Sarah.  She  was 
very  melancholy,  never  having  been  above  four  miles  away 
from  home  in  her  life.  However,  she  got  here  safely,  and 
wrote  word  to  Cook  that  the  country  is  a  garden  of  prim- 
roses. 

"  On  the  platform  I  met  dear  Bessie  Parkes.  She  was 
going  to  be  at  'Brownes.'  She  was  accompanied  by  the 
good  old  nurse  who  had  attended  her  night  and  day 
through  her  illness.  This  illness  was  caused  by  her  sorrow 
at  Adelaide  Procter's  death.  All  that  she  had  done  for 
months  was  with  reference  to  this  beloved  friend.  She 
went  here  and  there  to  gather  up  information  to  impart 
to  Adelaide,  whose  great  solace  in  her  long  illness  was 
being  talked  to.  She  could  listen  for  hours,  and  in  this 
manner  forget  her  pain.  She  did  not  entirely  keep  her 
bed  until  a  day  or  two  before  her  departure.  She  sat 
up,  wearing  a  pale  blue  jacket,  with  her  hair  beautifully 
arranged  under  a  little  cap.  She  looked  scarcely  changed 
by  her  sufferings  ;  and  a  very  short  time  before  her 
decease  she  received  from  the  biographer  of  the  Cure 
d'Ars  a  little  souvenir  of  the  holy  priest,  with  which  she 
was  enchanted. 

"  When  we  reached  Robertsbridge  station  Bessie  ex- 
claimed, '  How  do  you  do,  Burgess,  and  how  are  your  wife 
and  the  babies  ? '  giving  the  gamekeeper  her  hand.  Then 
she  turned  and  greeted  a  smiling  little  old  man  with 


156  MARY  HO  WITT.  [CH.  iv. 

white  hair.  He  was  her  attendant  from  Brownes,  whilst 
Burgess  had  come  for  me.  Yesterday  I  again  met  Burgess 
and  a  man  wheeling  a  barrow-load  of  heath.  I  joined 
him,  and  walked  back  with  him  through  the  plantations. 
'  I  have  been  to  fetch  the  heath  Madame  wished  for,'  he 
said.  I  asked  how  far  they  had  been.  '  Half  a  mile  farther 
than  you  met  us.  I  could  have  got  it  much  nearer,  but 
Madame  had  some  liking  for  that  place  ;  and  I  am  always 
glad  to  please  her  in  everything.'  So  Burgess  and  I 
walked  through  the  woods,  and  talked  about  trapping 
rabbits  and  '  varmint.'  I  am  glad  to  say  he  generally 
takes  rabbits  by  the  snare  '  which  catches  them  round 
the  neck,  you  see.' 

"  Barbara  has  built  her  cottage  upon  the  plan  of  the  old 
Sussex  houses,  in  a  style  which  must  have  prevailed  at 
the  time  of  the  Conquest.  It  is  very  quaint,-  and  very 
comfortable  at  the  same  time." 

WILLIAM  HOWITT  TO  HIS  BROTHER  RICHARD. 

"  Scalands-Gate,  April  19,  1864. — I  have  joined  Mary 
amongst  the  South  Saxons  awhile,  to  smell  the  primroses 
on  the  banks  and  in  the  woods.  We  are  occupying  for 
a  few  weeks  the  cottage  of  Madame  Bodichon — Barbara 
Leigh  Smith  that  was.  She  and  her  husband  spend  the 
winters  in  Algiers,  and  do  not  return  till  towards  the  end 
of  May.  The  country  is  a  hop-growing  one,  and  is 
pleasantly  diversified  with  hill,  dale,  and  woods,  which  are 
now  chiefly  kept  for  growing  hop-poles,  and  many  of  them 
have  very  little  timber  in  them,  but  the  walks  through  them 
are  most  pleasant.  This  house  stands  on  a  hill  in  the 
midst  of  one  of  these  woods.  In  the  openings  are  various 
kennels  of  pointers,  retrievers,  and  beagles,  which  are  used 
in  the  shooting  season  by  Madame  Bodichon's  brothers 


1857-66. J  WEST  HILL  LODGE.  157 

and  brother-in-law,  General  Ludlow.     They  give  us  plenty 
of  dog-music. 

"  The  district  is  a  thoroughly  farming  one,  and  has  a 
queer  sort  of  dialect.  The  peasants  call  daffodils  Lent- 
lilies,  and  wood-anemones  snowdrops.  Wood-peckers 
they  call  Gellie-birds,  and  the  blind-worm  the  deaf-adder. 
This  property  is  three  miles  long,  so  we  can  range  about 
without  fear  of  trespass.  We  have  had  the  pleasure  of 
Annie's  company  last  week.  She  knows  the  neighbour- 
hood, having  been  here  once  or  twice  before  with  Barbara 
in  their  maiden  days.  Bessie  Parkes,  too,  is  making  a 
little  sojourn  at  a  house  belonging  to  Ben  Smith,  just  a 
nice  walk  from  us  over  the  fields." 

MARY  HOWITT  TO  HER  DAUGHTER  MARGARET. 

"  Scalands-Gate,  May  8,  1864. — Mrs.  Todhunter  has 
been  with  us,  and  I  hoped  she  enjoyed  the  little  visit  as 
much  as  we  did  her  society.  The  whole  landscape  is  now 
diversified  with  all  that  sweet  variety  of  vernal  greens, 
which  to  my  taste  is  more  beautiful  than  the  richer 
tints  of  autumn.  Then  the  wonderful  beauty  of  the  earth 
covered  with  blue-bells,  the  budding  woods,  and  above 
them  the  blue  sky  ;  only  the  earth  is  bluer  than  sky.  How 
lovely  the  woods  are  !  always  reminding  me  of  Dante  Ros- 
setti's  colouring.  The  nightingales,  blackbirds,  thrushes, 
the  shouting  cuckoos,  and  little  mole-crickets  keep  up  an 
everlasting  singing  and  chorusing  in  the  air.  I  hear  at  this 
moment  a  loud-throated  nightingale  warbling  forth  from  an 
amber-tinted  oak-tree  that  rises  from  a  sea  of  young  birches, 
chestnuts,  and  horn-beams.  Oh  !  it  is  delicious." 

To  MRS.  TODHUNTER. 

"May  12,  1864. — I  have  been  to-day  to  hunt  out  the 


i58  MARY  HOWITT.  [en.  iv. 

ruins  of  Robertsbridge  Abbey,  and  am  quite  pleased  with 
what  I  have  seen.  There  are  some  fine  remains  built 
into  a  farm-house.  The  grand  old  crypt  of  the  Abbey  is 
the  dairy  and  larder,  now  filled  with  a  wonderful  display 
of  the  good  things  of  this  earth.  The  garden  was  full  of 
flowers,  with  rockeries  made  of  old  carved  capitals,  corbels, 
and  saints'  heads.  A  deaf  and  dumb  gardener  was  mow- 
ing the  grass  with  a  machine.  I  thought  of  you  on  my 
walk,  and  wished  you  had  been  with  me,  for  you  would 
have  enjoyed  it,  as  I  did.  We  shall  be  positively  here  till 
the  1 8th." 

Aldborough,  especially  interesting  as  the  home  of  the 
poet  Crabbe,  was  visited  in  the  autumn  of  the  same  year. 
Pitchcombe,  in  Gloucestershire,  as  well  as  France,  Switzer- 
land, and  Heidelberg,  were  resorted  to  in  1865.  In  the 
following  year,  after  staying  at  Penmaenmawr,  we  removed 
from  West  Hill  Lodge,  intending  to  settle  once  more  in 
our  favourite  old  neighbourhood  of  Esher,  for  we  were  still 
enamoured  of  its  commons  and  fir  woods. 

Until  our  new  home  could  be  ready  for  us,  we  took 
a  furnished  house  in  the  row  of  villas  built  on  the  site 
of  our  former  picturesque  residence,  The  Hermitage. 
Here  we  remained  from  November  1866  to  the  spring 
of  1867.  At  this  time  my  husband  was  engaged  on  his 
topographical  work,  "  The  Northern  Heights  of  London," 
descriptive  of  Hampstead,  Highgate,  and  Islington. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE    ORCHARD. 
1866-1870. 

WE  rented  in  the  autumn  of  1866  the  cottage  of  our 
friend  Sister  Elizabeth,  in  the  parish  of  Claygate,  near 
Esher.  We  altered  and  somewhat  enlarged  it,  laid  out 
an  extensive  flower  and  fruit  garden,  called  our  new 
home  The  Orchard,  and  imagined  we  should  never  rove 
again. 

Fleeming  Jenkin,  the  late  lamented  electrician,  and 
his  wife,  two  remarkably  bright,  clever  young  people, 
were  amongst  our  fellow-parishioners ;  and  universal  re- 
grets were  mingled  with  warm  congratulations  when  his 
acceptance  of  a  professorship  at  Edinburgh  deprived  the 
neighbourhood  of  their  society. 

At  first  my  husband  and  I  luxuriated  in  our  large 
garden.  We  trained  our  plants  with  the  greatest  love, 
and  under  the  healthy  influence  of  mother-earth  had 
neither  of  us  felt  better  for  years.  Seeker,  the  gardener, 
though  a  crotchety  old  man,  was  an  admirable  coadjutor, 
mowing  and  sweeping  the  smooth  lawn  with  untiring 
diligence.  He  implied  great  satisfaction  at  all  the  young 
birds  being  spared  in  the  nests ;  and  mentioned  how, 
when  one  of  his  hens  deserted  some  ducks'  eggs,  he 
hatched  them  himself  in  his  bosom.  Lord  Bacon  says  : 
"  God  Almighty  first  planted  a  garden,  and  indeed  it  is 
the  purest  of  human  pleasures ; "  and  we  believed  him. 


160  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  v. 

But  weeks  and  months  passed  on,  and  we  grew  less  satis- 
fied. Perhaps  after  all  it  was  a  mistake  to  treat  tenderly 
all  those  birds  who  swarmed  in  the  big  chestnut-tree  by 
our  chamber  window,  chattered  from  daybreak,  demolished 
the  peas  wholesale,  and  grew  so  audaciously  familiar  that, 
to  quote  Seeker,  "he  saw  two  wrens  brow-beating  the 
kitten."  Perhaps  the  manual  labour,  the  burden  of  the 
garden,  and  other  petty  vexations  troubled  us  because 
we  were  growing  old. 

The  manner  in  which  our  life  in  The  Orchard  passed 
is  indicated  in  the  following  passages  from  letters  : — 

•j  j»4. . .'     '  t    ! 

MRS.   ALFRED  WATTS  TO  HER  UNCLE,  RICHARD  HOWITT. 

"Feb.  21,  1867. — Alas!  now,  for  me,  I  suppose  that 
at  the  end  of  next  week  my  dear  people  will  have 
migrated  to  Esher.  Glad  shall  I  be  for  them,  but  most 
sorry  for  ourselves,  as  the  gap  they  leave  behind  them 
will  be  dreadful.  It  is  pleasant,  however,  to  think  of 
them  watching  the  opening  of  spring  in  their  lovely 
neighbourhood,  and  of  all  the  walks  they  will  have 
through  the  old  scenes.  I  do  not  like  the  situation  as 
well  as  West  End  Cottage,  which  is  on  the  other  side 
of  Esher ;  but  their  home  will  be  very  picturesque  and 
elegant.  It  is  within  a  short  walk  of  the  gates  of 
Claremont  Park." 

THE  SAME  TO  HER  SISTER  MARGARET. 

"  The  Orchard,  Aug.  25,  1867. — We  are  curious  to 
know  how  you  passed  your  first  Sunday  in  Scotland. 
Sabbaths  I  should  rather  dread  there,  for  my  own  part. 
Yesterday — Sunday — was  a  beautiful  sunny  morning. 
The  dear  Pater  went  to  the  station  to  meet  Prince  George 
of  Solms,  who  duly  made  his  appearance  by  the  9.30 


1866-70.] 


THE  ORCHARD. 


161 


train.  Mother  and  I,  as  we  sat  in  her  room,  saw  them 
walking  across  the  green.  We  all  of  us  walked  about  the 
garden  and  talked.  Then  we  sat  in  the  drawing-room 
and  talked.  After  four  o'clock  we  went  to  Claremont, 
which  Prince  George  was  especially  anxious  to  see,  that 
he  might  describe  it  minutely  to  his  Queen,  who  dreads 
the  thought  of  residing  at  Claremont,  from  the  belief 
that  she  should  die  there.  We  walked  all  through  those 


THE  ORCHARD. 


lovely  poetical  grounds,  sat  on  the  mound  beneath  the 
observatory,  and  by  the  lake-side.  All  looked  most  beauti- 
ful— far  more  so  than  Prince  George  expected.  Yet  he 
felt  a  great  melancholy  about  the  place.  It  had  to  him 
a  funereal  character.  Certainly  it  was  full  of  a  solemn 
poetry — something  very  peculiar,  especially  about  what  I 
call  the  '  Enchanted  Island.' 

VOL.  II.  L 


162 


MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  v. 


"On  Saturday  a  very  interesting  Swedish  gentleman 
was  here.  His  uncle  was  chamberlain  to  the  King  of 
Sweden.  He  had  himself,  being  very  pious,  joined  the 
Ldsdre  sect,  and  found  many  worldly  disadvantages  accrue 
therefrom.  He  had  therefore  gone  to  the  United  States, 
entered  the  army,  and  fought  on  the  Northern  side  in  the 
civil  war ;  serving  for  six  months  in  the  same  division  as 
the  Orleans  princes.  They  were  very  friendly  with  him, 
and  invited  him  to  visit  them  at  Claremont.  He  was  in 
ten  battles,  and  was  severely  wounded  in  the  leg,  which 
gives  him  a  slight  halt.  He  became  acquainted  with 
members  of  the  Society  of  Friends  in  America,  and  after 
the  war,  had  become  so  thoroughly  convinced  of  their 
principles,  that  now  nothing  would  induce  him  to  raise 
his  hand  against  any  man,  not  even  to  save  his  life. 
He  has  come  to  England  to  settle  among  Friends.  He 
journeyed  down  to  Esher  to  call  on  the  French  princes, 
but  found,  to  his  surprise,  that  they  had  quitted  Clare- 
mont. Then  he  came  on  to  us." 

MARY  HOWITT  TO  HER  DAUGHTER  MARGARET. 

"Sept.  2,  1867. — We  find  little  Eaphael  Weldon  one 
of  the  best  of  children.  Seeker  is  mowing  the  grass  at 
this  moment,  and  he,  harnessed  like  a  pony,  is  drawing 
the  machine.  The  Pater  calls  him  '  Young  Meritorious,' 
and  he  is  quite  pleased  with  his  name." 

"  Sept.  3.  —  Yesterday  afternoon  we  took  Kaphael 
with  us  to  call  on  the  Hertslets ;  and  in  coming  back 
along  the  lane  we  met  two  gentlemen,  one  of  whom 
claimed  us  as  an  acquaintance.  It  was  no  other  than 
Josiah  Gilbert,  the  son  of  one  of  the  authoresses  of 
'  Original  Poems,'  &c.,  and  nephew  of  Isaac  Taylor.  He 


1866-70.]  THE  ORCHARD.  163 

belonged  to  our  Nottingham  days.  He  is,  you  may 
remember,  an  artist.  He  is  a  very  superior  man,  is  a 
member  of  the  Alpine  Club,  and  has,  in  conjunction  with 
his  friend,  G.  C.  Churchill,  explored  a  new  and  most 
interesting  mountain  district  called  the  Dolomite  Country, 
and  which  now,  through  their  graphic  descriptions,  will 
doubtless  speedily  become  the  haunt  of  other  English- 
men. He  and  his  companion,  Mr.  Bevan,  came  back 
with  us  to  tea." 

"Sept.  5.— My  dear  niece  Mary  and  my  great-niece 
little  Agnes  are  now  with  us.  The  latter  and  Raphael 
are  the  best  of  friends,  and  their  ringing  laughter  comes 
to  us  in  the  garden,  through  the  open  window,  as  they 
sit  in  the  dining-room  painting  the  Stars  and  Stripes  and 
the  Union  Jack  for  each  other's  amusement. 

"  Agnes  is  a  little  free-spoken  American,  full  of  fun  and 
dash.  Raphael  is  more  silent  and  contemplative.  They 
sit  painting  pictures  together  for  hours  at  a  time.  I  feel 
quite  proud  of  them  both." 

"  Sept.  9. — I  am  going  to  take  the  children  this 
afternoon  to  Claremont.  I  shall  sit  and  read  Good 
Words  while  they  play  about. 

"  Evening. — We  have  been  to  Claremont,  and  were 
caught  in  down-pouring  rain.  It  began  to  rain  coming 
back  just  as  we  were  passing  the  house.  We  hastened 
to  the  lodge,  where  the  gatekeeper  lent  us  his  umbrella. 
Great  fun  it  was  to  the  children.  They  laughed  all  the 
way  home,  and  seem  none  the  worse  for  the  wetting." 

"Sept.  21. — I  had,  on  Saturday  a  letter  from  the 
Secretary  of  the  Religious  Tract  Society,  enclosing  a 
tract  entitled  'A  Sermon  on  the  Welsh  Hills.'  It  was 


164 


MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  v. 


the  sermon  I  made  Christmas  Evans  preach  in  the  '  Cost 
of  Caergwyn.'  It  had  been  submitted  in  manuscript  to 
the  Committee,  much  liked  by  them,  and  ordered  to  be 
printed.  The  author  being  written  to,  it  came  out  that  it 
was  taken  from  a  novel  of  mine  ;  and  a  copy  of  the  book 
being  obtained,  was  found  there  almost  verbatim.  An 
aged  friend  of  the  Secretary,  who  had  heard  Christmas 
Evans  preach  forty  years  ago,  was  able  to  vouch  for  the 
genuineness  of  the  sermon,  but  instead  of  his  rewriting 
it  from  memory,  the  Society  preferred  printing,  with  per- 
mission, my  version. 

"Of  course,  I  have  given  permission  for  them  to  use  the 
sermon,  which  they  say  will  evidence  the  Saviour's  love 
to  thousands  whom  my  book  will  never  reach.  I  suppose 
the  aged  friend  believes  he  actually  heard  this  sermon  of 
my  invention  preached  by  Christmas  Evans.  It  is  odd 
if  I  should  unwittingly  have  imagined  circumstances  that 
actually  occurred  more  than  half  a  century  ago." 

To  MADAME  BODICHON. 

"  Oct.  15,  1867. — It  is  several  months  now  since  we 
heard  that  you  were  ill.  It  made  us  very  sad,  for  we 
had  always  connected  the  idea  of  perfect  health  and 
power  with  you,  so  that  we  could  not  reconcile  ourselves 
to  the  thought  of  your  being  an  invalid.  We  were  all 
in  the  confusion  of  our  removal  into  the  country,  with 
workmen  in  almost  every  room,  the  whole  garden  to 
make,  and  everything  to  do,  so  that  I  had  hardly  a 
minute  to  spare  for  anything  but  the  demand  of  the 
moment ;  therefore  I  did  not  write  to  express  the  sorrow 
and  anxiety  which  we  felt.  Then  we  heard  you  were 
better,  and  we  supposed  quite  well  and  returned  to  Algeria. 
Now,  on  the  contrary,  we  find  you  are  still  delicate  and 


1866-70.]  THE  ORCHARD.  165 

in  England ;  therefore  I  at  once  send  you  this  to  express 
our  sincere  sympathy,  and  beg  of  you  to  take  such  care 
and  to  use  such  means  as  are  necessary  to  restore  you  to 
health. 

"Again,  I  say,  it  makes  me  very  sad,  for  it  is  another 
instance  in  which  the  noble-minded,  energetic  woman 
yields  under  the  force  of  that  mental  and  physical  exertion 
which  her  better  and  larger  knowledge  and  awakened 
activity  have  made,  as  it  were,  a  necessity  of  her  being. 
That  my  dear  Annie  broke  down  under  the  strain  upon 
her  naturally  delicate  frame  did  not  seem  to  me  extra- 
ordinary ;  but  that  you,  dear  Barbara,  should  now  be 
ordered  into  a  state  of  rest  does  seem  very  sorrowful ;  and 
my  best  and  most  affectionate  desire  is,  that  you  will  be 
wise  and  rest,  and  thus  regain  your  blessed  health,  and 
with  it  all  your  glorious  natural  powers  and  full  ability 
again  to  work. 

"You  can  imagine  how  surprised  we  were  to  hear  of 
dear  Bessie  Parkes's  marriage  with  M.  Belloc.  None 
wish  her  happiness  more  sincerely  than  I  do,  for  she  is  a 
fine  creature,  and  deserves  it  as  much  as  any." 

To  MRS.  ALFRED  WATTS. 

"  Oct.  29,  1867. — The  leaves  are  falling,  the  flowers 
fading,  and  every  now  and  then  such  lovely  days  occur- 
ring that  really  it  is  quite  heavenly.  Margaret  and  I  are 
busy  converting  all  the  old  apparel  we  can  lay  our  hands 
on  into  little  frocks  and  petticoats,  and  all  sorts  of  small 
garments  for  the  poor  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  docks. 
Young  Mr.  Grimm,  at  Claremont,  who  seems  most  bene- 
volent, has  begged  one  of  the  women-Friends  here  to 
collect  all  the  relief  of  this  kind  that  lies  in  her  power 
for  these  poor  half-starved,  half-naked  people.  So  we 


1 66  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  v. 

are  doing  our  small  endeavours,  and  have  as  much 
pleasure  in  our  little  hoard  as  if  it  were  something  very 
valuable." 

To  THE  SAME. 

"March  7,  1868. — Our  Dorcas  Meeting  here  went  off 
very  well.  There  were  about  a  dozen  ladies,  and  a  good 
deal  of  work  was  done.  It  is  the  Dissenter  class  which 
composes  this  benevolent  society ;  and  the  Mothers' 
Meeting  held  every  Monday  at  the  Friends'  Meeting-house 
seems  quite  a  success.  It  is  astonishing,  however,  what 
little  poverty  there  is  in  the  neighbourhood.  If  the 
husbands  were  sober  all  would  be  well-to-do.  It  is  the 
same  at  Hersham,  which  forms  one  parish  with  Walton. 
The  poor  there  have  many  bequests,  '  The  Beggar's 
Gift '  being  a  most  curious  one.  It  seems  that  some  two 
hundred  years  ago  a  beggar  came  down  in  these  parts 
begging.  He  was  flogged  in  the  parishes  of  Wandsworth 
and  Kingston.  In  that  of  Walton  he  was  well  treated. 
Shortly  afterwards  he  died,  leaving  a  will,  by  which  he 
bequeathed  a  whip  to  the  two  parishes  which  made  him 
feel  it,  and  to  Walton  all  his  wealth.  This  now  brings  in 
for  the  poor  of  Walton  and  Hersham  ^"200  a  year,  being 
house  property  somewhere  in  London. 

"  Your  father  was  troubled  that  people  did  not  say  all 
that  might  be  said  for  Epping  Forest  being  kept  open. 
Fifteen  or  sixteen  years  ago  the  Chief  Commissioner  of 
Woods  and  Forests  announced  in  Parliament  his  intention 
to  bring  in  a  Bill  that  session  for  the  enclosure  of  Epping 
and  Hainault  Forests.  Dickens  and  he  were  appalled  at 
the  news,  regarding  such  a  destruction  as  an  irreparable 
injury  to  London;  and  consequently  your  father  vigorously 
pleaded  for  the  preservation  of  Epping  Forest  in  the 


i866-7o.]  THE  ORCHARD.  167 

pages  of  Household  Words.  He  therefore  again,  like 
a  brave  soldier  of  the  right,  wrote  a  letter  for  the  Daily 
Neivs,  which  I  confidently  hope  did  good  to  the  cause/' 

"  March  1 2,  1868. — I  give  myself  the  birthday  pleasure 
of  writing  to  thank  dearest  Alfred  and  you  for  your  most 
acceptable  and  beautiful  remembrance  of  this  day.  Oh  ! 
how  I  wish  I  might  be  re-born  ;  might  advance  into 
a  higher,  better  state !  One  seems  so  much  to  stop  in 
the  same  state.  But  then  one  does  not  see  the  growth 
of  the  tree  or  the  flower,  only  from  period  to  period  that 
it  has  developed.  So  I  suppose  it  is  with  the  soul ;  it 
progresses  towards  the  light  with  imperceptible  advance. 
I  hope  it  is  so. 

"  I  am,  alas  !  again  very  dead  as  regards  my  ballad- 
writing.  I  suppose  it  is,  in  the  order  of  things,  a  time 
of  rest  after  labour.  I  feel  as  if  the  fountain  were  dried 
up,  just  as  I  did  before.  Mr.  Clarke  has  omitted  one 
month  of  the  series  in  his  Christian  World  Magazine, 
so  that  he  does  not  want  another  before  June.  This 
made  me  feel  no  necessity  to  write,  and  then  the  spirit 
died  out  of  me.  I  shall  wake  up  again  before  long.  In 
the  meantime  this  fine  weather  has  set  me  gardening, 
and  greatly  have  I  enjoyed  it." 

"Sept.  19,  1868. — All  our  guests  are  now  departed. 
Your  aunt  Anna's  visit  was  delightful.  I  think  we 
employed  the  time  well.  I  read  over  to  her  the  chronicle 
of  our  ancestors  and  of  our  early  life,  and  had  notes 
and  suggestions  from  her  for  future  guidance ;  so  now  it 
waits  my  leisure  to  put  its  multitudinous  contents  into 
some  degree  of  order,  which  I  hope  to  do  in  the  winter. 
The  house  seems  very  dull  without  your  two  cousins, 


1 68  MARY  HO  WITT.  [en.  v. 

Agnes   Harrison   and   Agnes   Alderson.      Sweeter   girls 
never  were." 

MRS.  ALFRED  WATTS  TO  HER  UNCLE,  EICHARD  HOWITT. 

"  The  Orchard,  Nov.  6,  1868. — Here  it  has  been 
most  exquisitely  beautiful  this  autumnal  weather,  the 
trees  looking  truly  as  though  they  had  been  cut  out  of 
gold  and  coral.  We  have  taken  some  lovely  walks,  and 
often  wished  you  could  have  been  with  us.  Last  Monday 
afternoon  my  mother  and  I  went  to  West  End  Cottage, 
now  The  Cedars.  We  seemed  to  be  walking  in  a  magni- 
ficient  gallery  of  pictures,  for  at  every  turn  there  was 
some  exquisite  combination  of  colour  and  form.  All  was 
bathed  in  a  translucent  sunset  light  as  we  returned,  and 
the  trees  looked  inky  black  against  a  greeny-blue  sky, 
flecked  rose-colour ;  or  they  were  magically  crimson  and 
golden,  whilst  the  fields  were  emerald.  A  halo  of  glory 
seemed  flung  around  everything,  it  flamed  upon  the  dis- 
tant casements  of  cottages,  and  turned  even  the  pigs 
crunching  acorns  beneath  the  oaks  into  poetical  swine. 
It  was  as  if  we  had  stepped  into  a  Paradise,  and  saw  all 
things  transfigured. 

"  I  had  never  been  over  the  old  Esher  home  since  we 
left  it,  though  I  had  seen  its  outside  several  times.  It 
was  curious  to  go  through  the  rooms,  full  of  past  memo- 
ries, and  to  find  them  smaller  than  in  recollection,  whilst 
the  trees  and  shrubs  outside  had  grown  much  taller 
and  bigger. 

"We  are  reading  aloud  in  the  evenings  Maria  Webb's 
'Penns  and  the  Penningtons.'  My  parents  will  send 
it  you,  should  you  not  have  read  it,  for  it  is  well  worth 
perusal. 

"  Our  good  friends,  Mr,  and  Mrs.  Oldham— she  Eliza 


i866-7o.]  THE  ORCHARD.  169 

Sutton  of  the  early  Nottingham  days — have  left  their 
pleasant  home  in  Gloucestershire  and  come  to  reside 
near  my  parents.  They  occupy  a  cottage  with  a  garden 
standing  upon  a  hill,  about  three  miles  from  The  Orchard. 
The  whole  walk  thither  is  charming,  through  bowery 
lanes." 

THE    SAME   TO    HER    SISTER   MARGARET,   WHO   WAS   ATTENDING 

THEIR  UNCLE  RICHARD'S  SICK-BED. 

"  Feb.  i,  1869. — Tell  dear  uncle  I  never  enjoy  any- 
thing that  I  do  not  wish  he  could  enjoy  it  with  me; 
and  many  letters  are  written  to  him  in  my  heart  which 
never  reach  him.  The  snowdrops  he  sent  me  through 
you  are  still  fresh,  and  make  me  think  of  so  many  sweet 
vernal  things.  I  went  on  Saturday  to  Julia,  who  is  suffer- 
ing much  pain,  and  spoke  to  her  of  our  dear  Poet-Uncle ; 
and  Julia,  to  my  surprise,  knew  him.  She  had  seen  him 
at  our  house  on  his  way  to  join  you  in  France.  She  has 
often  recalled  him  since ;  for  he  had  repeated  verses  so 
sweetly  from  Jean  Ingelow  and  Burns.  I  had  quite  for- 
gotten that  she  called  that  afternoon.  How  one  rejoices 
when  one's  friends  know  and  like  each  other  ! " 

On  February  5,  1869,  Richard  Howitt  breathed  his  last. 
His  tenants  and  his  poor  neighbours,  according  to  country 
custom,  one  by  one  visited  their  old  friend  and  champion, 
as  he  lay  robed  for  the  tomb  ;  and  as  they  stood  beside 
the  coffin,  each  one  laid  his  or  her  hand  in  blessing  upon 
the  cold  brow,  in  the  belief  that  this  "  laying  on  of 
hands  "  gives  rest  to  the  dead.  His  relatives  accompanied 
his  revered  remains,  in  a  mist  of  soft  rain,  across  the 
district  of  old  Sherwood  Forest  to  his  grave  in  the  burial- 
ground  of  the  Society  of  Friends  at  Mansfield. 


T7o  MAKY  HO  WITT.  [CH.  v. 

MARY  HOWITT  TO  HER  HUSBAND. 

"Feb.  12,  1869. — lam  thinking  of  one  and  all  of  you 
at  the  funeral.  With  us  it  pours  with  rain ;  but  be  the 
weather  ever  so  dismal,  I  hope,  as  indeed  I  am  sure  they 
will,  that  both  Annie  and  Meggie  will  attend  their  uncle's 
remains  to  Mansfield.  I  remember  so  many  little  traits  of 
his  character,  which  touch  me  deeply  ;  and  in  no  way,  as 
far  as  I  am  concerned,  shall  his  memory  fail  of  respect." 

To  MRS.  ALFRED  WATTS. 

"March  17,  1869. — I  have  vastly  enjoyed  Mr.  Morris's 
poems ;  and  thus  it  is  a  pleasure  to  me  to  think  of  him 
in  his  blue  blouse  and  with  his  earnest  face  at '  The  Firm,' 
and  to  feel  that  he  is  a  great  poet.  I  am  glad  that  we 
had  the  fairy-tale  tiles  for  the  fireplaces  from  Morris  & 
Co.  ;  their  connection  with  this  modern  Chaucer  gives 
them  a  new  value  and  interest.  Morris  is  not  before 
Tennyson,  but  he  stands  very  near  him  in  the  living 
reality  of  his  old-world  pictures,  and  in  his  exquisite 
painting  of  scenery  ;  the  flowers,  the  grasses,  the  '  brown 
birds,'  every  individual  object  and  feature  in  Nature  is 
so  lovingly  and  so  faithfully  portrayed.  Tennyson's 
poetry  is  the  perfection  of  art  and  truth  in  art.  Morris's 
is  Nature  itself,  rough  at  times,  but  quaint,  fresh,  and 
dewy  beyond  anything  I  ever  saw  or  felt  in  language.  I 
i shall  try  to  tell  Mr.  Morris  what  a  joy  and  refreshment  it 
(has  been  to  me. 

"  If  nice  mild  weather  comes  to  bless  us,  I  shall  walk 
over  to  the  Oldhams'  before  long,  and  take  them  'The 
Earthly  Paradise.'  Perhaps  I  may  go  on  Sunday  and 
dine  with  them  ;  I  enjoy  their  simple  farinaceous  diet  so 
much,  and  I  think  they  are  really  pleased  when  those  who 
appreciate  it  partake  with  them." 


j866-7o.]  THE  ORCHARD.  171 

"May  31,  1869. — I  do  not  think  such  miserable  May 
weather  was  ever  known ;  so  intensely  cold  that  one  is 
obliged  to  wear  winter  clothing  and  have  fires  in  every 
room.  On  Saturday  there  was  such  a  bitter  frost  that 
scarlet-runners  and  tender  summer  growths  are  nipped, 
and  everybody  mourning  over  their  gardens.  The  last 
tolerable  day  here  was  Wednesday,  the  Derby  day,  when 
we  arranged  to  go  over  to  the  Oldhams'  for  an  early  tea,  and 
then  walk  to  the  Epsom  road  and  see  the  folks  returning. 

"We  did  so;  and  very  much  amused  we  were.  We 
took  our  seats  on  a  bench  by  the  roadside.  There  are 
several  in  that  locality,  probably  put  down  for  this  pur- 
pose. We  had  the  bench  to  ourselves,  with  the  exception 
of  one  man,  so  nothing  could  be  more  comfortable.  The 
whole  road  was  crowded  with  people,  like  ourselves,  come 
to  be  amused ;  mostly  on  foot,  sitting  and  walking  about, 
and  some  in  carriages  drawn  up  at  the  roadside.  At 
about  half-past  five  the  people  began  to  return,  in  every 
possible  description  of  vehicle,  from  the  grandest  four-in- 
hand  to  the  costermonger's  cart ;  nearly  all  half-drunk, 
merry  and  wild  as  could  be,  many  in  green  veils  and 
blue  veils,  with  wooden  dolls  stuck  all  round  their  hats, 
and  with  dressed  mechanical  dolls  in  their  hands,  which 
sneezed  and  laughed  and  made  all  sorts  of  noises ;  or 
with  pea-shooters,  through  which  they  shot  peas  at  the 
people  as  they  passed.  Those  shot  at  the  Pater  he 
collected,  brought  home  with  him,  and  has  planted,  to 
see  what  his  winnings  at  the  Derby  turn  out.  Some  had 
on  false  noses,  others  women's  hats ;  the  women  wearing 
the  men's.  One  man  in  a  carriage  wore  a  woman's  night- 
dress and  a  mob-cap,  as  ridiculous  as  possible ;  some 
were  biting  big  loaves  of  bread ;  others  had  bladders  in 
their  hands.  All  were  laughing  and  shouting.  The  man 


1 72  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  v. 

who  sat  on  the  bench  by  us  said,  '  They  have  no  wice 
in  them,  only  fun.'  Your  father  and  Mr.  Oldham,  two 
old  men  with  white  beards,  seated  side  by  side,  were  an 
everlasting  source  of  amusement.  Sometimes  they  were 
lovingly  saluted  as  'Father'  or  'Grandfather;'  some- 
times they  were  pitied — '  Poor  souls  !  because  they  had 
no  father ! '  There  were  hundreds  of  sporting,  betting 
men  in  white  hats  with  or  without  veils ;  hard,  worldly, 
cold,  business  faces  of  the  most  repulsive  character.  One 
set  of  these  men  sitting  in  the  body  of  a  drag  were  play- 
ing at  cards.  It  was  altogether  a  strange  revelation  of 
a  life  with  which  one  thanks  God  one  has  nothing  to 
do ;  and  one  wonders  what  will  become  of  these  souls  in 
the  other  world.  What  a  revolting  hell  it  must  be  to  which 
they  naturally  gravitate  !  Nevertheless  we  vastly  amused 
ourselves.  We  counted  upwards  of  five  hundred  carriages 
in  about  two  hours.  And  the  women  in  them  !  Eight  out 
of  ten  were  fat,  jolly  women,  used  to  jovial  living.  Many 
of  them  we  imagined  to  be  butchers'  wives  and  landladies. 
It  was  very  diverting,  but  having  once  seen  it,  we  shall 
never  care  to  go  again.  " 

To  WILLIAM  HOWITT. 

"  Beckenham,  Sunday  afternoon,  July  4,  1869. — Louie 
and  I  went  this  morning  to  a  very  pleasant  church  at 
Shortlands,  a  new  locality  sprung  up  in  a  lovely  wood- 
land district  about  two  or  three  miles  off,  really  delight- 
ful, and  where  Mrs.  Craik  has  built  her  beautiful  new 
house.  I  extremely  enjoyed  both  the  drive  and  the  service 
in  the  little  church. 

"Last  evening  I  was  greatly  interested  by  a  call  on 
our  relatives  from  young  Mr.  James  Macdonell.  He 
wonderfully  attracted  me,  because  he  is  up  in  every 


1866-70.]  THE  ORCHARD.  173 

question  of  the  day,  and  gave  me  a  most  hopeful  idea  of 
the  better  class  of  young  men  in  this  younger  generation. 
Every  reform  that  you,  dear  William,  ever  desired  or 
worked  for  seems  to  be  the  object  for  which  they  are 
striving.  He  told  me  of  the  marvellous  spirit  of  reform 
in  every  shape  to  which  many  of  the  Oxford  undergra- 
duates are  devoting  themselves  :  the  abolition  of  primo- 
geniture, and  the  separation  of  Church  and  State,  among 
the  rest.  He  said  that  the  influence  of  Friends'  doctrines 
and  opinions  was  at  this  time  very  great ;  that  it  was 
operating  amongst  these  Oxford  men.  He  seemed  to 
know  a  great  deal  about  Friends'  books,  and  of  them  as 
an  ancient  people.  We  live  in  our  quiet  corner,  and 
know  nothing  of  what  is  going  on  in  the  world." 

To  MRS.  ALFRED  WATTS. 

"  Beckenham,  July  9,  1869. — Your  aunt  Anna  and  I 
had  a  very  nice  call  on  Mrs.  Craik  in  her  new  house.  It 
was  her  first  open  afternoon,  and  there  were,  of  course, 
a  good  number  of  people  there.  The  house,  which  is,  I 
suppose,  of  the  time  of  Henry  VII.,  is  perfect  within  and 
without.  You  can  see  that  to  the  architect,  who  is  a 
young  man,  it  has  been  a  perfect  work  of  love.  He  has 
followed  one  uniform  plan,  and  therefore  everything  is 
consistent,  down  to  the  rather  thick  dull  glass  in  the 
windows,  which  Mrs.  Craik  likes  because  there  is  no 
glare  of  light.  These  windows  are  very  large,  but  are 
without  Venetian  blinds,  the  sun  being  kept  out  when 
needful  by  Holland  blinds,  which  draw  on  a  wire  with 
rings ;  they  are  most  old-fashioned.  The  scarlet  serge 
curtains  also  draw  over  the  windows  in  the  same  way. 
There  are  window-seats  cushioned  with  scarlet  in  every 
window.  The  fireplaces  and  all  the  little  nooks  and 


i74  MAEY  HO  WITT.  [CH.  v. 

quaint  devices  are  lovely,  and  would  enchant  Edward 
Bateman.  The  whole  house  is  carpeted  with  grey  felt, 
on  which  bright  rugs  and  bits  of  colour  produce  beautiful 
effects.  The  colours  of  the  paint  are  most  quaint  and 
original ;  in  the  entrance-hall  blue-grey,  with  dull  red 
walls.  I  can  imagine  nothing  pleasanter  than  building 
such  a  house  and  furnishing  it. 

"  Little  Dorothy  is  the  embodiment  of  health  and  in- 
fantine beauty,  fair  and  rosy,  with  beautifully  moulded 
limbs,  long  fingers,  and  golden-tinged  hair.  She  can  just 
run  alone,  has  the  most  winning  ways,  and  if  she  had 
determined  to  show  herself  off  to  advantage,  could  not 
have  been  more  fascinating  than  she  was.  I  do  not 
wonder  at  the  Craiks'  love  for  their  little  darling." 

To  WILLIAM  HOWITT. 

" Mayfield,  near  Ashbourne,  Aug.  25,  1869. — All  is 
bright  and  peaceful  here,  and  I  wish  you  could  now  have 
joined  Margaret  and  me  instead  of  later  in  Wales,  and 
thus  have  seen  how  truly  Christian  a  life  our  dear  young 
relatives  are  leading,  heard  all  their  views,  and  all  their 
experience  in  co-operation,  of  which  they  are  warm  sup- 
porters, and  discussed  with  them  social  and  political 
questions,  in  which  you  and  they  think  alike. 

:'The  other  evening  the  Rev.  Alfred  Ainger,  the 
Eeader  of  the  Temple,  was  here ;  well  versed  in  all  the 
literature  and  topics  of  the  day,  most  courteous  and 
pleasant ;  and  just  off  to  Heidelberg,  to  which  place  he 
said  your  writings  first  introduced  him. 

'  Yesterday  evening  we  were  at  '  Swinscoe  wakes  ; ' 
that  is  to  say,  at  an  entertainment  of  tea,  a  penny-reading, 
and  music  given  on  occasion  of  the  wakes  in  that  primi- 
tive, high-lying  Staffordshire  village,  which,  after  a  long 


1866-70.]  THE  ORCHARD.  175 

ascent  from  this  Idyllic  spot,  lies  in  quite  another  climate 
and  region  with  stone  walls  and  bare  hill-tops. 

"  Mr.  Okeover,  he  being  the  landowner  of  the  district, 
was  present  with  his  wife,  her  sister  and  brother,  Lord 
Waterpark,  three  of  their  little  daughters,  and  the  French 
governess ;  a  most  interesting  and  excellent  set  of  people. 
Of  course,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  George  Mackarness  from  Ham 
were  also  there,  for  we  were  invited  by  them.  I  always 
feel  a  great  charm  in  this  clerical-county  life  :  the  pious 
and  refined  dwellers  of  the  Parsonage  and  the  Hall  trying 
to  benefit  in  all  ways  their  people,  and  to  elevate  them  by 
cheerful  means.  Hence  this  entertainment  was  made  as 
pleasant  as  it  could  be ;  the  rich  mingling  with  the  poor, 
simple  folks  in  the  most  beautiful  manner. 

"  Truly  there  is  to  me  something  most  fascinating  in 
the  lives  and  homes  of  some  of  these  clergy.  You  know 
what  Ham  is,  with  its  surrounding  hills,  woods,  model 
village,  its  peaceful  church  and  affluent  Hall  and  Vicarage. 
Equally  beautiful  and  perfect  is  the  clerical  home,  school, 
and  church  of  Denstone.  On  one  hand  stands  the  church, 
always  open,  in  the  midst  of  a  lawn-like  graveyard  planted 
with  evergreens,  and  kept  shorn  with  the  mowing- 
machine  ;  and  on  the  other  the  Parsonage  and  its  garden, 
a  true  paradise,  and  all  around  the  most  peaceful,  pastoral 
Dove  scenery.  I  never  felt  such  a  sense  of  divine  calm 
as  I  did  at  Denstone,  since  those  Sundays  when  we  were 
at  Thorpe,  and  we  went  over  to  service  at  Ham.  I  do,  of 
a  truth,  believe  that  in .  such  places  we  are  granted  a 
perception  of  Heaven." 

To  MRS.  ALFRED  WATTS. 

"  Penmaenmawr,  Oct.  i,  1869. — I  write  at  the  Pater's 
dictation  the  following : — '  There  has  been  a  great  ex- 


I76  MARY  HO  WITT.  [CH.  v. 

citement  amongst  us  to-day.  This  morning  Mr.  George 
Mackarness  went  with  his  brother,  the  vicar  of  Honiton, 
to  bathe.  On  their  way  they  called  for  their  letters  ;  and 
the  vicar  of  Honiton,  opening  his  in  the  bathing-machine, 
found  one  was  from  Gladstone  wishing  to  make  him 
Bishop  of  Oxford.  After  breakfast  the  brothers  John 
and  George  Mackarness  started  off  to  discuss  the  proposal 
on  a  walk  round  the  Great  Orme's  Head.  Mrs.  George 
Mackarness  came  to  us,  and  we  celebrated  her  brother- 
in-law's  promotion  by  an  afternoon's  excursion  together 
to  Aber. 

"  '  On  the  Penmaenmawr  platform,  as  we  were  just 
getting  into  the  train,  all  in  the  midst  of  a  crowd  of 
tourists,  going  and  coming,  an  elderly  clergyman  burst 
out  of  a  carriage,  followed  by  two  stylish  young  ladies. 
Mrs.  Mackarness  caught  sight  of  him,  and  there  was  a 
cordial  greeting.  He  was  on  his  way  to  Ty-Mawr  to  call 
on  the  two  vicars  of  Honiton  and  Ham.  There  was 
hardly  time  for  explanation,  as  our  train  went  off  with  us, 
leaving  him  in  a  state  of  bewildered  consternation. 

"  '  We  found  it  to  be  the  horse-fair  at  Aber,  which  you 
may  remember.  The  approach  to  the  village  was  crowded 
with  stalls  and  all  kinds  of  stall  trumpery.  In  the  midst 
of  a  lot  of  Taffies  and  toffies  the  smiling  visage  of  Mrs. 
Birley  was  visible.  She  was  accompanied  by  little  Fanny 
and  the  two  South  American  children.  She  gave  us  an 
enthusiastic  reception,  conducting  us  to  the  Mill  Cottage, 
which  looked  really  lovely,  with  roses  and  creepers  right 
up  to  the  eaves. 

"'  On  our  return,  at  the  Aber  station  there  happened 
to  be  two  little  black  ponies,  which  had  been  sold  at 
the  fair,  and  were  going  over  to  Ireland.  They  had  had 
nothing  to  eat  and  nothing  to  drink.  Mrs.  Mackarness 


1 866-70.]  THE  ORCHARD.  177 

and  your  mother  insisted,  therefore,  upon  their  having  both 
water  and  hay,  for  which  they  paid  a  shilling.  The  poor 
little  things  were  so  frightened  that  they  would  neither 
eat  nor  drink.  The  hay,  however,  was  put  into  the  truck 
with  the  ponies  by  a  gentleman  ;  and  the  purchasers 
hoped  that  they  would  consume  it  between  Aber  and 
Holyhead.  At  Penmaenmawr  there  was  the  same  clergy- 
man and  the  two  pretty  young  ladies,  who,  after  a  boot- 
less errand,  were  now  in  a  great  hurry,  of  course,  to 
find  seats  in  the  train.  The  guard  whistled  impatiently, 
but  for  all  that  the  clergyman  rushed  forward  to  shake 
hands  with  "  Mistress  Mary  Howitt,"  exclaiming,  "  I  too 
am  of  Ukseter !  "  Again  the  whistle,  and  we  fearing 
he  would  lose  his  train,  he  was  hurried  into  the  nearest 
carriage,  and  whirled  away,  a  mass  of  wonderment, 
friendship,  and  cordiality.' ' 

Penmaenmawr,  where  we  have  stayed  until  the  hills 
were  sublimely  white,  had  never  lost  its  stimulating  effect 
on  me.  How  I  loved  the  rugged  sea- washed  mountain — 
the  natural  beacon  and  name-giver  of  the  district — which, 
overshadowing  the  long,  stony  village,  is  being  blasted, 
undermined,  and  hewn  into  blocks,  to  be  shot  down  long 
tramways  to  the  jetty,  and  then  borne  slowly  through  the 
water  in  little  vessels  to  England !  How  I  respected  the 
grave,  earnest  quarrymen,  clad  in  buff  moleskin  waist- 
coats and  trousers,  similar  in  colour  to  the  outer  coating 
of  the  rock,  and  in  blue  and  white  striped  shirts  of  the 
same  tone  as  its  freshly-hewn  inside  ;  often  with  splendid 
faces  of  the  rough,  stony  kind,  and  hair  and  beards  like 
rock-growths  of  the  gold-brown  hue  of  late  autumn  ferns 
and  heather  !  Men  of  fortitude  and  piety  these  miners, 

who  to  the  utmost  of  their  ability  support  the  temperance 
VOL.  ii.  M 


I?8  MAEY  HO  WITT.  [CH.  v. 

movement,  their  schools,  chapels,  and  ministers  ;  the  latter 
belonging  to  their  own  class,  and  often  dating  their 
spiritual  vocation  from  early  work-days  in  the  quarries ! 
How  deeply,  too,  was  I  thrilled  and  affected  by  the  grand, 
inspirational  sound  and  the  rhythmical  cadence  in  the 
minor-key  of  the  Welsh  praying  and  preaching  in  the 
chapels ! 

Very  gratifying  were  the  courteous  attentions  of 
English  and  native  residents,  the  occupants  of  pleasant 
villas  and  cottages  studded  over  a  fertile  region  in  the  lap 
of  the  hills.  Very  enlivening,  also,  did  we  find  the  inter- 
course with  the  little  community  of  visitors,  which  often 
numbered  bishops,  deans,  and  their  families,  and  who, 
brought  together  in  rambles  and  picnics  by  the  ready 
offices  of  bright,  energetic  Miss  Lloyd  Jones,  parted  after 
a  few  weeks'  acquaintance  with  mutual  good  wishes. 

I  cannot  make  this  slight  survey  of  our  Welsh  experi- 
ences without  calling  to  mind  the  beautiful  home  of  an 
interesting  and  amiable  family.  Mr.  Sandbach,  of  Liver- 
pool, whose  second  wife  is  a  Welsh  lady,  after  purchasing 
Hafodunos,  an  extensive,  high-lying  estate  in  Denbigh- 
shire, finding  the  tenants  half-starved  owing  to  their 
rude,  inefficient  agriculture,  speedily  bettered  their  circum- 
stances by  employing  the  men  in  draining,  road-making, 
enclosing,  planting,  and  building.  He  himself  heartily 
enjoyed  the  superintendence  of  his  many  improvements, 
which  included  the  erection  of  a  beautiful  church,  excellent 
farm-houses  and  cottages,  and  his  own  mansion,  con- 
structed with  plenty  of  gables  and  a  lofty  tower  by  Gilbert 
Scott.  The  hall  stands  on  a  terrace  overlooking  a  most 
charming  glen,  where  tulip-trees,  great  magnolias,  hem- 
locks, and  other  pines  from  America  mix  with  native  oaks 
and  beeches ;  where  ferns  from  all  parts  of  Great  Britain, 


1866-70.]  THE  ORCHARD.  179 

Ireland,  Switzerland,  and  New  Zealand  grow  with  curious 
hardy  plants  from  the  Continent,  and  a  winding  walk 
leads  to  the  old  kitchen-gardens,  with  their  clipped  yew- 
hedges.  The  interior  of  the  house  is  in  exquisite  taste  ; 
no  paint  is  allowed,  the  woodwork  and  the  furniture  being 
of  pitch-pine,  red  cedar,  or  dark  bullace  from  Demerara, 
whilst  the  capitals  of  the  columns  leading  to  and  on  the 
grand  staircase  are  deftly  carved  with  roses,  lilies,  snow- 
drops, and  other  British  flowers. 

The  first  Mrs.  Sandbach  was  a  poetess,  and  by  birth  a 
Miss  Roscoe  of  Liverpool.  Her  portrait,  finely  and  classi- 
cally chiselled  full-length  in  bas-relief  by  Gibson,  adorns 
the  vestibule  to  the  room  of  statuary.  This  is  specially 
devoted  to  the  works  of  the  same  great  sculptor  and 
Royal  Academician,  and  contains  the  fine  group  of  "  The 
Hunter  and  his  Dog,"  the  "  Aurora,"  together  with  the 
busts  and  medallions  of  the  Sandbach  family.  Gibson, 
the  son  of  a  landscape-gardener  at  Conway,  had  been  be- 
friended and  directed  in  his  art-studies  by  Mr.  Roscoe, 
the  author  of  "Leo  the  Tenth,"  who  frequently  invited 
him  to  Allerton  Hall,  and  placed  its  literary  and  artistic 
treasures  at  his  service ;  and  when  the  poor  student  had 
become  eminent  in  Rome,  the  connection  was  still  main- 
tained by  the  relatives  of  the  early  patron. 

I  feel  myself  once  more  with  the  kind  owners  of 
Hafodunos  in  the  autumn  of  1866.  Agreeable  county 
neighbours  drive  over  for  afternoon  tea  ;  and  in  the  draw- 
ing-room, opening  on  to  the  terrace,  gay  with  masses 
of  sweet-scented  flowers,  a  noted  Welsh  painter,  quiet, 
elderly  Penry  Williams,  very  modestly  exhibits  his  port- 
folio of  charming  Italian  landscapes  and  figures.  He 
speaks  of  getting  back  to  Rome  before  the  winter  comes 
on,  for  he  expects  the  Italians  will  soon  be  down  on  the 


,8o  MARY  HOWITT.  [en.  v. 

Eternal  City,  and  destroy  the  antique  and  picturesque  to 
make  way  for  modern  railway  stations  and  Government 
buildings. 

We  visited  Hafodunos,  and  indeed  North  Wales,  for 
the  last  time  in  the  autumn  of  1869. 

WILLIAM  HOWITT  TO  HIS  ELDER  DAUGHTER. 

"  The  Orchard,  Jan.  14,  1870. — Many,  many  happy 
returns  of  the  day  to-morrow  !  You  have  had  a 
good  many  now,  and  have  given  us  many  happy  hours. 
Many  changes  have  occurred  since  the  days  when  I  carried 
you,  a  little  creature,  on  my  back  over  the  fields  from  Not- 
tingham to  Heanor,  and  many  of  our  contemporaries  have 
gone  out  of  the  world,  so  that  it  seems  a  part  of  a  former 
life ;  but  pleasant  to  remember,  for  one  line  of  affection 
has  run  unbroken  through  the  whole.  I  trust  we  may 
for  years  continue  to  love  each  other  in  this  world,  and 
then  continue  to  look  back  on  the  happy  past  from  a  more 
happy  present.  It  has  been  a  great  boon  of  our  lives 
that  we  have  had  so  grand  a  reassurance  of  all  the  old 
promises  of  the  world  to  come ;  the  world  of  reunions 
and  rediscoveries  of  those  who  seemed  lost ;  a  world  of 
realities  and  realisations,  of  reovertakings  and  rejoicings! 
What  a  Friends'  Meeting ! — not  in  silence,  but  amid  the 
welcomes  of  all  our  beloved,  and  the  sublimest  sense  of 
that  Eternity  achieved,  which  on  earth  had  been  a  poetic 
dream,  a  mystic  speculation,  a  mingled  vision  of  clouds 
and  glories  and  darkness. 

''With  all  the  queernesses  of  spiritualism  and  spiri- 
tualists, this  dispensation  has  been  to  us  the  fact  of  our 
earth-pilgrimage.  Where  our  forefathers  have  sailed 
through  fogs  and  tempests  after  the  lost  Atlantis,  we 
have  reached  land ;  solid  ground,  with  the  great  highway 


1866-70.]  THE  ORCHARD.  181 

visible  before  us,  with   the  pinnacles   of  the    Heavenly 
Jerusalem  glittering  on  the  Mountains  of  Life." 

MARY  HOWITI  TO  THE  SAME. 

"  The  Orchard,  the  eve  of  my  St.  Anna's  Day. — You 
must  have  a  few  loving  words  from  me  on  the  auspicious 
day  of  your  birth.  That  is  a  formal  expression,  but  as  it 
means  especially  happy,  it  is  right,  for  it  was  a  fortunate 
and  a  happy  day  which  gave  you  to  me  as  my  dear 
daughter  and  friend.  What  an  age  it  seems  since  you 
were  a  little  child,  and  used  to  sit  with  me  in  the  Not- 
tingham drawing-room,  and  we  read  the  Gospels  together, 
and  I  used  to  read  you  my  poems,  often  written  from 
thoughts  suggested  by  you  !  Some  of  those  Sunday 
evening  readings  remain  most  livingly  in  my  mind  as 
little  bits  of  Heaven,  when  illumination  seemed  almost  to 
come  down  from  above  to  us.  I  remember  how  '  Thomas 
of  Torres,'  in  'The  Seven  Temptations,'  was  the  fruit  of 
our  reading  together  the  parable  of  the  man  who  built 
the  barns  and  laid  up  the  treasure,  and  then  his  soul  was 
called  away.  I  wonder  whether  you  remember  those 
times,  and  how  you  illustrated  '  The  Seven  Temptations,' 
with  heads  of  all  the  characters  ?  Many  other  heads  you 
designed,  amongst  them  a  Judas,  which  I  thought  mar- 
vellous. How  distant,  yet  how  beautiful,  tender,  and 
peculiar  are  the  memories  of  those  times  !  May  God,  in 
His  mercy,  sanctify  the  present  and  all  future  time  on 
earth  to  us  by  gentle,  loving  deeds,  and  by  our  ever 
coming  nearer  and  nearer  to  Him  !  " 

My  husband  and  I  wanted  to  see  Italy  before  we  died, 
so  we  let  The  Orchard  for  twelve  months  to  some  desirable 
tenants  from  Lady  Day  1 870.  With  a  prayer  in  our  hearts 
that  the  Divine  Spirit  might  accompany  us,  we  quitted 


iS2  MARY  HO  WITT.  [CH.  v. 

our  home  in  the  evening  of  March  24,  and  proceeded 
to  London  to  pay  farewell  visits  preparatory  to  our 
exodus. 

MARY  HOWITT  TO  HER  ELDER  DAUGHTER,  FROM  BECKENHAM. 

"April  3,  1870. — I  hope,  whenever  you  can,  you  will 
come  and  see  our  dear  relatives.  It  will  be  a  joy  to  them 
and  a  refreshment  to  you.  There  is  a  holy  spirit  of 
domestic  affection  in  the  house ;  all  are  so  good  and 
kind.  Your  aunt  seems  feeble,  but  looks  better  in  the  face. 
Mr.  James  Macdonell  and  his  sister  arrived  by  the  same 
train  as  we  did.  The  evening  was  very  pleasant,  and 
your  father  was  interested  in  Mr.  Macdonell  as  a  fitting 
representative  of  the  new  age.  Dora  Greenwell  sent  me 
by  him  her  volume  of  poems  and  the  most  affectionate 
message,  '  wishing  to  see  me  above  all  women  in  England.' 
I  am  some  way  sorry  she  should  feel  thus,  especially  as 
she  lunches  here  next  Tuesday.  You  will  understand 
my  shrinking  sense  of  gratitude.  It  is  always  affecting 
to  me  to  see  how  much  love  one  gets.  Oh !  if  one  did 
but  deserve  it  more." 

"Tuesday,  April  5,  1870. — Miss  Dora  Greenwell  and 
Mr.  Macdonell  came  to  lunch.  We  found  her  very  agree- 
able. Later  in  the  afternoon  she  went  up  to  town  with 
William  and  mjself.  I  was  very  sorry  to  part  with  my 
beloved  ones  at  Beckenham.  May  the  merciful  Lord 
preserve  them  ! " 

We  started  on  April  13  for  Switzerland  and  Italy; 
anticipating  with  the  rapid  flight  of  time  soon  to  find 
ourselves  back  in  old,  much  beloved  England,  and  in 
the  society  of  our  cherished  relatives  and  friends.  But 
this  was  not  to  be. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

IN  SWITZERLAND  AN  D.ITALY. 
18^0-1871. 

ACCOMPANIED  by  the  eldest  daughter  .of  our  friend,  Mr. 
William  Bodkin  of  Highgate,  and  by  Emily  Burtt,  a 
great-niece  of  my  husband's,  he,  Margaret,  and  I  crossed 
from  England  to  Belgium.  There  we  :visited  the  green, 
quiet  field  of  Waterloo,  and  were  joined  in  gay,  flourish- 
ing Brussels  by  our  warm-hearted  friends,  Walter  Wei- 
don,  F.R.S.,  the  indefatigable  projector  of  most  valuable 
chemical  discoveries,  his  wife  and  their  gifted  little 
son  Raphael.  They  purposely  paid  a  flying  visit  to  the 
Belgian  capital  once  more  to  see  us. 

WILLIAM  HOWITT  TO  MRS.  ALFRED  WATTS. 

"  Gersau,  Switzerland,  April  23,  18.70.  —  We  have 
been  either  posting  along,  or  when  stopping  in  towns 
constantly  tramping  about,  so  that  there  has  been  no 
chance  of  much  writing.  Here  we  have  been  climbing 
hills  and  steaming  up  the  Lake  of  the  Four  Cantons, 
so  that  my  feet  are  very  much  delighted  at  my  hands 
doing  the  work  for  a  few  hours. 

"I  have  no  doubt  your  mother  has  told  you  of  the 
Todhunters'  arrival.  We  went  with  them  the  day  before 
yesterday  to  Brunnen,  the  next  village  on  the  lake, 
where  we  have  found  a  very  nice  pension,  to  which  we 
remove  next  Wednesday.  It  is  a  little  way  out  of 


i84  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  vi. 

Brunnen.  The  garden  goes  down  to  the  lake.  Opposite 
rises  Seelisberg,  with  its  little  chapel .  and  big  pension, 
so  warmly  recommended  to  us  by  Mr.  Boyle  of  Kidder- 
minster. We,  however,  prefer  a  less-frequented  resort. 
Behind  is  the  Axenberg,  on  which  is  perched  a  large 
new  hotel.  The  house  is  small,  but  with  every  modern 
convenience.  It  was  only  opened  last  year.  It  belongs 
to  and  is  kept  by  Fraulein  Agathe  Aufdermauer ;  in  plain 
English,  Miss  Upon-the-Wall.  She  is  a  short,  stout 
lady  of  about  fifty,  clever,  well  educated,  speaks,  I  am 
sorry  to  say,  English,  and  has,  in  her  brother's  house 
in  the  village,  entertained  Fredrika  Bremer,  Hans 
Christian  Andersen,  Bulwer,  &c.  I  think  we  shall 
get  on  with  her ;  and  we  shall  have  a  great  St.  Gothard 
dog  to  take  care  of  us. 

"  Our  young  companions  are  very  good,  bright,  and 
pleasant,  fond  of  flowers,  and  delighted  to  be  in  the 
country.  You  would  hear,  of  course,  of  the  enjoyable 
time  we  had  in  Brussels  with  the  Weldons,  who  we 
expect  would  visit  you  last  Sunday.  With  them  we 
went  to  the  Wiertz  Gallery.  On  our  first  entrance  I  was 
quite  startled,  and  did  not  think  I  should  at  all  like  the 
paintings,  they  appeared  so  huge,  so  wild,  and  so  fan- 
tastic. But  by  degrees  I  began  to  see  a  great  mind  and 
purpose  in  them.  '  Napoleon  in  Hell '  is  a  grand  lesson, 
and  well  conceived.  You  have  not  said  a  word  too  much 
of  Wiertz.  Little  Raphael  came  and  took  my  hand  as 
we  left  the  gallery,  and  said,  *  Mr.  Howitt,  I  think 
Wiertz  could  not  be  a  good  man ! '  I  asked  him  why. 
He  answered,  'I  think  he  could  not  be  a  good  man, 
or  he  would  not  have  painted  some  things  there.'  I 
told  him  he  might  naturally  think  so,  but  that  a  vast  deal 
was  to  be  allowed  for  his  education.  No  doubt  Wiertz 


1870-71.]          IN  SWITZERLAND  AND  ITALY.  185 

thought  all  was  right,  and  that  many  of  his  pictures  con- 
tained great  and  useful  lessons.  His  father  came  up  and 
added,  that  when  Raphael  was  older  he  would  see  those 
lessons  more  clearly  than  he  could  do  now. 

"  It  seems  amazing  to  hear  of  your  dull,  hazy  weather. 
From  the  moment  that  we  set  foot  on  the  Continent  we 
have  had  nothing  but  clear  skies,  and  this  week  very 
warm  days.  With  all  our  great  struggles  and  vaunted 
triumphs  of  reform  in  our  British  Parliament,  the  con- 
dition of  the  people  at  large  is  deplorable,  and  not  to  be 
named  with  that  of  the  Swiss  peasantry.  It  is  horrible 
to  remember  Seven  Dials,  Bethnal  Green,  and  all  the 
scores  of  square  miles  of  such  places  in  London  and 
other  overcrowded  centres,  whilst  we  see  these  poor 
in  their  cottages  amid  their  fields  and  gardens,  and  the 
children  playing  amongst  green  grass,  pleasant  trees,  and 
flowers.  Here  and  in  most  parts  of  the  Continent,  if  the 
lower  orders  are  poor,  their  poverty  is  ameliorated  by  the 
enjoyment  of  fresh  air,  the  comely  face  of  Nature,  and 
the  absence  of  those  violent  contrasts  of  splendour  and 
squalor,  of  superabundance  and  destitution,  that  meet 
us  on  all  hands  in  England.  Our  country  is,  in  fact,  the 
Sisyphus  of  the  nations,  always  straining  itself  to  roll  away 
the  crushing  rock  of  debt,  and  never  succeeding ;  always 
on  the  verge  of  reform  and  relief,  and  never  accomplish- 
ing it.  Like  its  climate,  its  political  and  social  condition 
is  most  frequently  gloomy,  hazy,  and  discouraging." 

THE  SAME  TO  THE  SAME. 

"Pension  Agathe  Aufdermauer,  April  29,  1870. — On 
Tuesday,  whilst  Emily  and  Nelly  went  to  Lucerne  on 
some  little  errands,  we  three  ascended  on  foot  the  Rigi- 
Scheideck  from  Gersau.  It  took  us  six  hours,  going 


,86  MARY  HO  WITT.  [CH.  vi. 

very  leisurely,  and  making  many  and  long  rests ;  for  it 
is  steep  all  the  way.  We  had  a  splendid  view  from  the 
summit  of  the  whole  amphitheatre  of  the  Bernese  Alps  ; 
and  descended  in  three  hours  by  a  different  path.  Our 
way  up  and  down  was  amongst  green  slopes,  scattered 
over  with  chalets,  where  the  owners  were  cultivating 
their  patches  of  potato-ground  or  watching  their  cattle. 
Here  and  there  were  pine-woods,  deep  clefts  and  preci- 
pices, and  the  beds  of  streams  strewn  with  huge  rocks  of 
pudding  and  other  stones.  Some  of  the  slopes  were  as 
white  with  small  white  crocuses  as  any  fields  in  England 
with  daisies ;  others  were  yellow  with  king-cups ;  and 
there  were  millions  of  oxlips,  but  paler  and  more  slender 
than  ours.  The  little  gentianella  was  abundant,  and 
frequently  in  brilliant  masses.  The  Trollius  Europseus 
was  all  over  other  meadow  slopes,  but  only  in  bud.  We 
found  patches  of  pink  primulas  and  auriculas.  Near  the 
summit  grew  large  and  splendid  bunches  of  the  yellow 
auricula.  The  blue  and  red  hepaticas  were  not  quite 
over ;  and  the  cherry-trees,  which  grow  all  the  way  up, 
were  on  the  lower  slopes  in  blossom. 

"The  hotel  porters  were  carrying  up  on  their  backs 
each  a  hundredweight  of  provisions,  sugar-loaves,  pota- 
toes, &c.  We  asked  if  they  were  not  tired.  They  said, 
'  No ;  they  could  carry  up  twice  as  much  at  a  time ; ' 
and  we  were  told  below  that  this  was  true,  but  that  they 
ruin  their  constitutions  by  such  attempts.  However,  these 
men,  whom  we  met  three-parts  of  the  way  up,  passed  us 
before  we  were  down,  jodelling  and  very  jolly.  Some  of 
them  had  been  up  twice  that  day.  So  much  for  habit. 

"  We  are  here  situated  exactly  at  the  turn  of  the 
lake  into  the  Uri-See.  Opposite  to  this  branch  is  the 
Mythenstein,  with  the  inscription  to  Schiller  upon  it. 


1870-71.]          IN  SWITZERLAND  AND  ITALY.  187 

We  have  a  number  of  copies  of  his  *  Wilhelm  Tell '  in 
the  house,  and  shall  be  able  to  study  the  play  amid  its 
scenery. 

"  On  Sunday  we  witnessed  an  election  for  the  canton 
of  Schwyz.  It  was  in  the  open  air,  before  the  Rathhaus. 
There  was  no  drunkenness,  no  rioting,  no  bribery,  and 
no  long  speeches  !  It  was  the  very  model  of  an  election. 
The  Amtmann,  the  Landamman,  and  the  Rathsschreiber 
stood  at  a  table,  and  the  Amtmann  read  out  the  names 
of  candidates.  They  and  their  friends  made  a  few  re- 
marks each,  all  to  the  point ;  any  one  who  chose  could 
make  an  objection.  Then  the  choice  was  decided  by  a 
show  of  hands.  It  was  all  over  in  about  half-an-hour. 
Herr  Miiller  of  the  Gersau  Hotel  was  re-elected  as  one 
member,  which  he  has  been  for  years. 

"  We  became  quite  familiar  with  the  village  children 
of  Gersau.  They  ran  up  to  us,  with  the  right  hand  put 
out,  not  crumpled  up  to  beg ;  and  were  always  merry 
when  they  saw  us  again.  One  day  an  angry  woman 
kept  scolding  a  little  boy  of  two  years  of  age  and  twitch- 
ing him  along  after  her.  Your  mother,  as  she  always 
does,  began  noticing  the  little  fellow,  saying  to  the 
woman  what  a  nice  boy  he  was.  The  effect,  as  usual, 
was  instantaneous.  The  mother  caught  up  the  child, 
kissed  it,  wiped  away  its  tears,  and  seemed  delighted. 
The  little  fellow  looked  at  us  with  large  dark  eyes.  We 
patted  his  cheek  and  kissed  him,  at  which  he  set  up  a 
great  crowing  of  delight,  which  lasted  as  long  as  we 
were  in  sight. 

"  All  the  children  are  educated,  both  boys  and  girls 
from  six  to  twelve  ;  and  then  go  two  years  longer  to  the 
Sunday-schools.  This  is  the  reason  that  they  are  so 
nicely-behaved.  Now  mind,  this  part  of  the  country 


i88  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  vi. 

is  wholly  Catholic,  yet  the  education  of  the  people  is 
universal.  Any  parents  neglecting  to  send  their  chil- 
dren to  school  are  severely  punished.  Observe  also  that 
the  country  is  well  cultivated,  and  the  trade  and  manu- 
factures are  flourishing.  None  of  the  charges  of  bad 
cultivation,  of  want  of  manufacturing  zeal,  and  prohibi- 
tion of  education  apply  to  Switzerland.  Of  course,  there 
is  no  religious  difficulty  in  this  canton,  as  all  are  Catho- 
lics; but  where  all  are  educated,  the  people  must  be 
enlightened  beyond  any  great  slavery  of  priestcraft." 

THE  SAME  TO  THE  SAME. 

"Pension  Agathe  Aufdermauer,  May  n,  1870. — Yes- 
terday we  had  an  invasion  of  fresh  inmates,  but  only  for 
one  night.  It  was  Richard  Wagner,  the  great  composer, 
with  a  handsome  young  lady,  legally  or  by  courtesy  his 
wife.  She  is  Liszt's  daughter,  and  was  married  to  the 
brilliant  pianist  and  composer,  von  Billow,  who  is  the 
best  interpreter  of  his  father-in-law's  music,  and  that  of 
the  man  who  has  wronged  him.  The  young  King  of 
Bavaria  being  obliged  to  send  Wagner  from  Bavaria,  as 
he  attended  more  to  music  than  his  regal  duties,  the 
musician  settled  at  Lucerne.  The  King,  however,  made 
a  visit  to  Switzerland  to  see  his  favourite,  and  privately 
took  up  his  quarters  at  Brunnen.  In  this  way,  and  be- 
cause Fraulein  Aufdermauer  is  very  musical,  she  became 
acquainted  with  Wagner,  who  now  brought  his  belong- 
ings for  a  birthday  celebration  to  her  house.  There 
were  four  little  von  Billows  or  Wagners,  who  with  their 
parents  kept  the  house  alive,  seeing  that  one  and  all 
were  very  merry  and  musical.  To-day  they  are  gone 
back  to  their  villa  at  Lucerne. 

"  On  Sunday  there  was   quite  a  display  in   Brunnen. 


1870-71.]          IN  SWITZERLAND  AND  ITALY.  189 

It  was  a  procession  of  the  Working-men's  Unions  of 
Lucerne  and  all  the  places  on  the  lake  to  Griitli  and  Tell's 
Chapel.  They  came  up  with  the  steamer,  which  had  at 
its  prow  a  blue-and-white  flag,  at  its  stern  the  great  red 
banner,  with  the  white  cross  in  the  centre,  of  Switzer- 
land. They  brought  with  them  an  excellent  band  of 
music,  and  took  in  here  the  Brunnen,  Stein,  and  Schwyz 
Unions,  with  another  band ;  then  went  on  to  the  Griitli 
meadow  and  Tell's  Chapel.  They  landed  here  on  their 
return,  and  after  dispersing  for  some  refreshment,  formed 
in  procession  to  march  to  Schwyz,  where  they  were  to 
dine.  There  were  about  three  hundred  of  them,  with 
their  banners,  scarlet  and  gold  for  the  most  part,  belong- 
ing to  the  different  Working-men's  Unions  of  the  four 
cantons.  There  was  one  of  a  '  People's  Improvement 
Society.'  They  marched  off  to  Schwyz  with  music  and 
flying  banners.  Each  man  had  a  sprig  of  some  green 
tree  or  bush  in  his  hat.  In  front  marched  about  half-a- 
dozen  boys,  dressed  in  the  ancient  Swiss  costume  and 
carrying  the  '  Wappen,'  armorial  shields  of  the  four 
cantons,  bright  with  red  and  blue  and  yellow.  One  lad 
represented  William  Tell,  with  his  cross-bow  and  the 
apple  in  his  hand.  You  may  suppose  the  stir  in  Brunnen. 
On  their  return  in  the  evening  the  steamer  was  waiting 
for  them.  They  were  sufficiently  jolly  with  beer  and  suffi- 
ciently dusty.  This  compact  of  working-men  all  over  the 
Continent  is  a  sign  of  the  coming  time,  and  is  already 
larger  than  the  cloud  seen  from  Carmel  by  Elijah. 

"  The  most  lovely  scenery  here,  to  my  mind,  is  the  great 
broad  valley  of  meadows  and  orchards  extending  from 
Brunnen  to  Schwyz.  Not  far  from  Brunnen  runs  down 
from  the  Frohnalp  a  green  promontory  into  the  centre 
of  the  valley.  On  it  stands  boldly  up,  and  visible  from 


1 90  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  vi. 

far  down  the  lake,  the  Convent  of  Ingenbohl,  where, 
as  you  have  told  us,  the  Shelleys  once  fixed  themselves. 
What  was  then  a  ruinous  chateau  is  now  an  immense 
mass  of  buildings.  From  the  hill  on  which  this  convent 
stands  you  command  the  whole  view  of  the  elysian  valley. 
On  one  side  shines  out  the  lake,  with  the  white  houses 
of  Brunnen ;  on  the  other,  Schwyz,  with  its  monastery, 
great  church,  Raihhaus,  and  a  whole  region  of  scattered 
houses  amid  the  blossoming  trees  on  the  great  green 
slopes  at  the  foot  of  those  wonderful  and  stupendous 
bare  rocks,  the  Mythen.  Up  they  stand,  gigantic  twin- 
pyramids,  soaring  into  the  clear  air  nearly  six  thousand 
feet.  Round  the  valley  rise  the  green  hills,  orchard-like, 
with  their  little  chalets.  Higher  rise  the  steep  slopes 
covered  with  the  now  light,  green  foliage  of  the  beech- 
woods  ;  higher  still,  the  dark  pine-forest ;  higher  still, 
the  eternal  mountains.  The  bottom  of  the  valley  is  one 
great  green  meadow,  luxuriant  with  grass  and  flowers. 
All  round  you  bloom  the  purple  orchis,  the  blue  forget- 
me-not,  the  golden  trollius,  and  here  and  there  the  tall 
white  narcissus.  When  I  look  over  this  wondrous  scene, 
through  which  run  the  Muotta  and  the  Schleywasser, 
clear  as  the  air  itself,  I  am  vividly  reminded  of  the 
description  of  the  Promised  Land  given  by  Moses  in  the 
eleventh  chapter  of  Deuteronomy. 

"  On  Sunday  morning  your  mother  and  I  walked  up 
to  the  convent  hill,  and  sat  down  above  it,  having  this 
magnificent  scene  lying  wide  before  us.  The  air  was 
full  of  the  harmony  of  the  bells  of  the  convent,  of  the 
parish  church  just  below,  and  of  churches  on  the  hills ; 
as  they  ceased,  the  lighter,  lower  chime  of  the  cow-bells 
came  up  from  the  meadows.  It  was  like  a  bright  dream 
of  Heaven,  of  beauty,  and  of  peace. 


1870-71.]          IN  SWITZERLAND  AND  ITALY.  191 

"As  we  passed  the  convent  in  going  up,  the  nuns  were 
sitting  in  their  ample  garden  on  the  upper  side  of  the 
edifice,  in  groups  under  shady  trees ;  and  some  of  them, 
who  were  only  divided  from  us  by  a  thin  acacia-hedge, 
rose  and  bowed  to  us  very  courteously.  At  noon  we 
saw  a  great  procession  of  them  advancing  from  the 
convent  garden  up  the  Kreuzweg,  or  Way  of  the  Cross, 
to  the  Chapel  of  Calvary  on  the  hill  above.  Along  this 
steep  path  at  regular  intervals  are  erected  fourteen 
shrines,  having  each  a  good  painting  illustrating  the 
various  stages  of  Christ's  passion  and  crucifixion.  At 
each  of  these  the  procession  stopped  and  repeated  the 
customary  prayers.  It  consisted  of  seventy  nuns  in  all, 
in  their  black  habits,  the  white  edges  of  their  caps  shining 
under  their  black  veils.  As  they  advanced  to  each  shrine 
one  nun  read  out  a  prayer,  and  all  responded  with  a 
murmur  of'voices  that  came  up  pleasingly  to  us.  We 
had  taken  the  opportunity  to  look  into  the  little  Calvary 
Chapel  at  the  top  of  the  ascent,  under  the  edge  of  the 
pleasant  beech-wood.  It  was  neat  and  plain,  with  two 
rows  of  deal  forms,  just  as  in  a  Friends'  Meeting-house. 
The  almost  only  striking  object  was  a  large  and  good 
picture  of  the  Mater  Dolorosa,  in  a  scarlet  bodice  and 
dark  flowing  skirts.  She  held  in  her  right  hand  one 
of  the  nails  from  the  cross,  and  by  her  sat  an  angel 
with  the  crown  of  thorns  on  his  knee,  which  she  was 
stretching  forth  her  left  hand  to  take  up.  Besides  this, 
a  plain  altar,  some  framed  prayers,  and  a  wreath  or  two 
of  immortelles  constituted  the  ornaments  of  the  chapel. 
Such  was  our  Sunday  morning  excursion." 

THE  SAME  TO  THE  SAME. 

''Pension  Aufdermauer,  May  18,  1870. — This  Agathe 


i92  MARY  HO  WITT.  [CH.  vi. 

Aufdermauer  is  a  very  extraordinary  woman.  She  has  a 
large  head,  and  an  amazing  deal  in  it.  She  is  well  read 
in  German  literature,  and  is  astonished  to  find  English 
people  who  know  so  much  about  it  as  we  do.  She  and 
I  get  on  amazingly  on  spiritual  subjects,  for  she  is  de- 
lighted to  find  that  we  believe  so  much  that  the  Catholics 

o 

do.  I  tell  her  I  am  a  Catholic  in  all  the  ancient  doctrines 
of  the  Church,  but  am  not  papistical.  In  all  the  affairs 
of  life  she  is  clear-headed,  able,  and  active.  She  bought 
the  ground  and  built  this  house,  surmounting  innumerable 
difficulties.  Everybody  knows  her  for  miles  round,  and 
everybody  speaks  in  the  highest  terms  of  her." 

"  May  19. — My  ideal  of  an  Alpine  spot  is  Btirglen,  the 
birthplace  of  Tell !  Surrounded  by  the  mighty  Alps  : 
meadows  that  are  masses  of  the  richest  floral  colouring  : 
people  in  happy  groups  sitting  amid  the  luxuriant  grass 
under  spreading  pear  and  walnut  trees  :  rushing,  hurrying 
streams  of  foaming  glacial  water,  turning  saw-mills,  and 
forges  :  chalets  amid  their  meads  or  perched  on  every  airy 
height  up  to  the  very  top  of  the  pine-clad  hills  :  all  the 
little  steep,  stony  lanes  crowded  with  piles  of  huge  pine- 
trees,  Avhich  have  been  sent  down  the  galloping,  rioting 
pale  river,  or  down  timber-slides,  waiting  to  be  split  up 
by  the  ever  busy,  hungry  saws  that  are  driven  by  the 
irresistible  mountain  stream.  Here  and  there  the  little 
wayside  tawdry  shrine,  with  its  daubs  of  paintings  and 
puppet-show  Madonna  and  Child,  with  their  tinsel  crowns 
and  country-booth  paraphernalia;  yet  precious  to  the 
poor,  tender,  care-worn  souls,  especially  women,  with 
huge  loads  on  their  backs,  and  often  still  heavier  on 
their  hearts :  yes,  in  most  abominable  taste,  but  most 
gracious  to  the  tired,  life-weary  creatures  that  kneel 


1870-71.]        IN  SWITZERLAND  AND  ITALY.  193 

there  and  cross  themselves,  already  too  cruelly  crossed 
by  the  world.  How  the  slender,  red  spire  of  the  church 
on  the  hill,  close  to  the  chapel,  built  on  the  identical 
spot  of  Tell's  house,  beckons  you  on,  with  a  silent  but 
eloquent  voice,  saying  as  plainly  as  possible,  '  Come  up  ! 
come  up  !  and  see  the  eternal  mountains,  the  sublime 
pinnacles,  the  dreaming  snows,  and  pale  glaciers.  See 
all  these  soaring,  climbing  forests  of  pine,  and  the  torrent 
dashing  in  mad  transport  down  the  rocky  ravine.' 

"When  you  speak  of  all  these  sights  and  sounds  of 
life  and  beauty  to  the  inhabitants,  they  shake  their 
heads  and  say,  '  It  is  not  a  glorious  land.  You  should 
see  it  in  winter,  so  fierce  and  stormy,  so  cruelly  stern,  so 
buried  in  snows,  so  short  in  its  daylight,  so  long  in  its 
darkness.  And  even  now,  how  much  more  beautiful 
would  plains  be  than  these  steep  fields  and  towering 
rocks ! '  Where  is  the  Lost  Paradise  of  earth  ? " 

THE  SAME  TO  THE  SAME. 

"May  20. — We  went  yesterday  by  invitation  to  the 
Convent  of  Ingenbohl.  Mother  Maria  Theresia  Scherer, 
who  has  been  the  Mother-General  of  the  Sisters  of  Mercy 
of  the  Holy  Cross  since  1850,  received  and  conducted  us 
over  the  establishment.  The  Sisterhood,  which  has  now 
extended  from  Switzerland  into  neighbouring  lands,  was 
founded  by  Father  Theodosius  Florentini,  a  Capuchin 
monk,  priest,  and  professor  of  theology.  He  was  so 
deeply  grieved  by  the  rampant  materialism  of  the  age, 
that  he  conceived  the  idea  of  raising  up  a  band  of  noble- 
hearted  religious  women  to  contend  against  it,  in  the  care- 
ful education  and  employment  of  children,  in  supporting 
the  helpless  poor,  and  ministering  to  the  sick.  He  went 
to  Rome,  and  obtaining  the  Pope's  sanction,  his  order 

VOL.  II.  N 


194 


MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  vi. 


rapidly  grew,  women  joining  it  from  all  parts  of  Switzer- 
land, from  Wurtemberg  and  Bavaria.  Possessing  immense 
faith  and  indomitable  perseverance,  he  went  about,  himself 
often  penniless,  and  bought  castle  after  castle,  estate  after 
estate,  saying  that  '  God  had  commanded  us  to  love  and 
serve  Him  with  all  our  hearts  and  souls,  and  our  neigh- 
bours as  ourselves,  and  he  was  sure  He  would  not  desert 
the  great  work.'  An  enormous  machinery  of  practical 
benevolence  Father  Theodosius  had  brought  into  operation 
in  the  course  of  twenty  years;  when  he  died,  in  1865,  at 
the  age  of  fifty-seven. 

"Mother  Maria  Theresia  Scherer  is  the  fourth  woman 
who  entered  this  now  numerous  order,  which  contains 
members  of  all  classes  of  society.  To  those  who  have 
been  peasants,  working  in  the  gardens  or  fields  is  no  hard- 
ship. We  saw  a  healthy-looking  nun  digging  the  ground 
to  set  beans.  She  talked  to  us  pleasantly,  without  an  idea 
that  her  occupation  was  in  any  way  derogatory  to  her 
profession.  We  were  shown  in  the  house  a  good  library 
of  religious  works,  and  the  little  wooden  cross  with  gilt 
ornaments  presented  by  the  Queen  of  Prussia ;  for  the 
Sisters  in  the  late  war  nursed  in  the  armies  of  both  Prussia 
and  Austria.  I  need  not  say  what  enchanting  views  pre- 
sent themselves  from  every  room.  The  Mother-General 
walked  with  us  in  the  garden,  which  was  pleasant,  but 
with  the  neglect  of  the  grass  so  common  to  German  ones. 
It  having  a  fine  crop  of  dandelions  gone  to  seed,  I  plucked 
one  to  amuse  several  young  girls,  scholars,  who  had  been 
allowed  to  join  us,  saying,  '  Let  us  see  what  o'clock  it 
is.'  I  knew,  having  looked  at  my  watch  just  before,  that 
it  was  exactly  ten  minutes  past  ten ;  and  blowing  it,  the 
time  tallied.  The  Mother-General,  with  the  care  of  a 
hundred  and  sixty  institutions  on  her  shoulders,  took  my 


1870-71.]          IN  SWITZERLAND  AND  ITALY.  195 

joke  in  the  most  cordial  way,  and  was  quite  merry  over 
some  more  of  my  nonsense. 

"  On  our  return  we  visited  the  Orphanage,  which  is 
nearer  the  village.  We  found  the  boys  and  girls  at 
dinner.  They  seemed  to  have  an  abundance  of  very  nice 
food,  and  their  healthy  and  happy  looks  spoke  enjoyment 
of  life.  The  elder  girls  were  going  in  the  afternoon  with 
their  new  mothers,  the  nuns,  on  a  ramble  through  the 
woods  up  to  Axenstein,  and  the  little  ones  were  to  be 
taken  to  the  convent,  where  the  Mother- General  was 
going  to  amuse  them. 

"I  am  now  reading  the  history  of  all  the  places  of 
pilgrimage  in  Switzerland.  What  an  extraordinary  thing 
is  Roman  Catholicism !  The  system  is  one  of  the  sub- 
limest  schemes  of  priestcraft  and  spiritual  domination 
that  was  ever  conceived.  At  the  top  all  is  rotten,  but  at 
the  bottom  God,  who  overrules  all  things,  has  caused  it 
to  strike  its  roots  into  the  soil  of  the  common  humanity, 
and  send  up  shoots  and  crops  of  an  active,  a  holy,  and  an 
indefatigable  beneficence  such  as  present  Protestantism 
knows  nothing  of.  Everywhere  Catholic  women  are  in- 
structing, collecting  orphans  from  the  streets  and  abodes 
of  death,  working  for  and  employing  the  poor,  tending  the 
sick  and  the  contagiously  diseased  in  the  palace  or  the 
poorest  hut,  and  going  about  with  the  simple  air  and  the 
friendly  smile,  as  if  they  were  only  doing  the  most  ordi- 
nary work,  and  felt  themselves  but  unprofitable  servants. 

"  When  Florence  Nightingale  went  forth  to  nurse  the 
wounded  soldiers  in  the  Crimea,  she  did  only  a  most 
commonplace  deed,  for  the  Catholic  women  of  all  ranks 
had  been  doing  it  everywhere  for  ages.  That  was  not 
the  merit  of  the  thing.  The  greatness  and  vital  merit  of 
it  was,  that  she  introduced  the  good  Samaritan  of  Catho- 


196  MARY  HO  WITT.  [CH.  vi. 

licism  to  the  proud  Levite  of  Protestantism,  and  induced 
him  to  '  go  and  do  likewise.'  It  was  as  splendid  a  triumph 
over  prejudice  and  pharisaic  ignorance  as  ever  was  won 
by  man  or  woman,  and  has  not  yet  borne  all  its  destined 
fruits." 

MARY  HOWITT  TO  HER  ELDER  DAUGHTER. 

"  Brunnen,  Sunday  morning. — We  went  last  evening, 
after  tea,  into  a  remote  valley  with  the  great  mountains 
round  it,  through  the  most  exquisite  pasture-fields  and 
under  blossoming  fruit-trees,  on  and  on  into  an  ever 
deeper,  stiller,  lovelier  region,  till  at  length  we  came  to 
one  of  the  solitary  chapels  which  are  so  common  here. 
Oh  !  how  lovely  they  are ! — the  truest  poems.  The  chapel 
walls  were  white  as  snow,  with  a  dark  red,  picturesque 
little  spire,  and  on  the  front  a  fresco  picture  of  St.  Xavier 
healing  the  sick.  A  young  peasant-girl  had  just  gone  in 
to  trim  the  lamp  before  the  altar,  and  now  stood  in  the 
dim  twilight  of  the  church,  with  a  sort  of  silent  reverence, 
as  we  entered.  The  interior  walls  were  hung  round  with 
pictures  and  tablets,  testimonies  of  Divine  help  ;  many 
of  the  incidents  being  represented  by  rude  oil  paintings, 
under  which  is  the  little  narrative  of  help  or  cure.  An 
old-fashioned  man  in  a  blue  coat  sits  at  a  table,  cramped 
in  all  his  limbs  by  rheumatism,  and  suddenly  the  chamber 
is  filled  with  light.  St.  Xavier  appears  with  the  cross  in 
his  hand,  in  answer  to  the  long-uttered,  faithful  prayer  of 
the  afflicted,  and  at  once  the  fettered  limbs  are  released ; 
and  the  man,  lifting  up  his  arms,  and  stretching  forth  all 
his  fingers,  cries  aloud  a  wonder-stricken  thanksgiving  to 
the  saint.  Again,  a  solitary  traveller  in  Italy  is  attacked 
from  behind  by  a  robber  twice  as  big  as  himself.  He 
cries  to  the  saint,  who  at  once  opens  Heaven  and  appears 


1870-71.]          IN  SWITZERLAND  AND  ITALY.  197 

in  such  terrible  majesty  that  the  terrified  robber  drops  his 
weapon  and  takes  to  flight.  All  this  sounds  absurd,  but 
to  my  mind  the  faith  is  not  absurd. 

"  This  little  chapel,  the  scene  in  which  it  stood,  the  soft 
twilight  which  filled  it,  the  young  peasant-girl,  who  in 
leaving  the  chapel  pointed  out  to  us  the  holy  water, 
affected  me  very  deeply.  I  did  not  let  anybody  see  me, 
but  coming  out  of  the  chapel,  I  dipped  my  finger  into  the 
holy  water  and  crossed  myself ;  praying  that  God  would 
give  me  the  right  faith — a  faith  as  sincere  as  governed 
the  poor  peasant  hearts  that  have  recorded  His  mercies 
to  them." 

To  SISTER  ELIZABETH. 

"  Pension  Felsberg,  Lucerne,  July "4,  1870. — Our  leaving 
Brunnen  was  quite  a  sad  affair.  Poor  Fraulein  Aufder- 
mauer  cried  for  days  before  we  left ;  and  all  the  people  in 
the  pension  went  down  with  us  to  the  boat  to  see  us  off. 
We  had  no  end  of  bouquets  and  a  delicious  cake  to  take 
with  us ;  and  some  of  the  people  had  tears  in  their  eyes 
as  they  bade  us  good-bye.  Here,  at  this  new  pension  in 
Lucerne,  the  guests  are  much  stiffer,  and  it  does  not  seem 
likely  to  me  that  we  shall  ever  get  on  the  same  terms 
with  them.  We  were  like  one  large  affectionate  family 
at  Brunnen.  Here  we  know  very  few.  We  have  our 
rooms  in  an  elegant  Swiss  chalet,  standing  apart  from  the 
larger  house,  with  the  most  glorious  view  imaginable  over 
the  lake,  with  mountains  stretching  out  before  us  like 
the  grandest  picture.  We  shall  remain  here  about  a 
fortnight,  and  then  move  off  to  Zurich,  which,  though  not 
by  any  means  in  as  fine  scenery,  yet  is  an  interesting 
old  town,  where  we  think  it  would  be  well  to  remain 
perhaps  for  another  fortnight." 


198 


MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  vi. 


At  the  beginning  of  July  the  Swiss  felt  no  further 
anxiety  than  that  rain  should  come  to  feed  the  corn  and 
perfect  the  wonderful  promise  of  the  vintage.  Then  dis- 
quieting rumours  arose  that  the  candidature  favoured  by 
Prussia  of  Prince  Leopold  of  Hohenzollern  to  the  Spanish 
throne  would  cause  a  rupture  between  France  and  Germany. 
My  husband,  who  believed  his  English  papers,  cherished 
the  hope  that  peace  would  be  maintained.  We  proceeded 
on  July  1 6,  in  very  sultry  weather,  to  Zurich,  and  deplored 
in  its  vicinity  the  increasingly  parched  aspect  of  the  soil 
and  the  shrivelled  crops,  but  still  dreaded  no  sudden  social 
blight  from  war.  We  took  up  our  quarters  in  an  old- 
fashioned  pension  in  the  suburb  of  Fluntern,  above  Zurich. 
At  midnight  came  the  much-desired  rain,  pelting  down 
amid  vivid  lightning,  with  but  little  thunder,  yet  attended 
by  a  tramping  of  feet  and  a  curious  movement  in  the 
country-road  outside.  Then  followed  a  loud  knocking 
at  the  street-door.  It  proved  truly  a  rude  awakening  to 
us,  for  now  we  learnt  that  war  was  actually  proclaimed 
by  France  to  Prussia,  and  that  the  Swiss  Confederation 
having  ordered  the  active  force  of  the  militia  to  the 
frontier,  our  landlord,  with  other  householders,  was  re- 
quired to  lodge  for  the  night  soldiers  arrived  from  a 
distance. 

The  next  day,  a  Sunday,  we  saw  on  the  Zurich  drill- 
ground  the  preparations  for  departure.  A  private  distri- 
buted wallets  to  a  line  of  his  comrades.  Young  sunburnt 
peasants  in  regimentals  sat  resting  on  their  knapsacks,  or 
strapped  the  Swiss  arms — the  silver  cross  on  the  red 
field — to  each  other's  coat-sleeves  in  a  brotherly,  helpful 
way,  which  would  have  extended  from  Prussia  to  France, 
and  from  France  to  Spain,  if  Europe  were  truly  Christen- 
dom. In  the  evening  the  perpetual  rub-a-dub-dub  of 


1870-71.]          IN  SWITZERLAND  AND  ITALY.  199 

drums  and   the  shrill  sound   of  fifes  ascended  from  the 
gas-lit  city  to  us  on  the  heights  of  Fluntern. 

At  this  crisis  we  naturally  pondered  what  we  should  do. 
We  had  no  desire  to  retrace  our  steps  to  England.  This 
proved  fortunate,  as  there  speedily  arrived  English  and 
American  tourists,  madly  fleeing,  with  or  without  their 
luggage,  from  the  Rhinelands.  We  could  not  move  on  to 
Italy,  which  was  itself  preparing  to  rise.  We  determined, 
therefore,  to  await  the  issue  in  Switzerland  ;  and  present- 
ing some  letters  of  introduction  to  Zurich  inhabitants, 
gained  thereby  a  valued  friend  in  Madame  Daeniker. 

With  all  our  new  acquaintance  the  war  was,  of  course, 
the  one  absorbing  topic.  A  nameless  apprehension 
seemed  to  have  settled  on  men's  minds  in  Zurich ;  and 
one  locksmith,  we  heard,  worked  night  and  day,  making 
iron  coffers  to  contain  the  money  and  valuables  his 
customers  wished  to  bury.  My  husband  remarked  to  an 
artisan,  who  was  seated  under  a  tree,  gazing  down  on 
the  populous  city  and  the  lake,  with  its  fringe  of  pros- 
perous villages,  "  What  a  noble  landscape  !  and  how 
well,  after  the  rain,  the  vines,  corn,  and  potatoes  look  ! " 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  man  gloomily  ;  "  only  there's  war !  " 

We  visited  the  museum  of  the  Antiquarian  Society, 
containing  remarkable  lacustrine  remains,  collected  by 
Dr.  Keller,  chiefly  at  Meilen,  on  the  Lake  of  Zurich. 
The  custodian,  a  little  dried-up  old  woman,  seemed 
herself  lacustrine,  such  knowledge  had  she  of  the  pre- 
historic lake-inhabitants,  and  of  each  shrivelled,  cindery 
apple,  grain  of  wheat,  scrap  of  fishing-net,  or  spear-head. 
Whilst  we  carefully  inspected  the  model  of  a  pile-dwel- 
ling, military  music  sounded  without,  and  the  street 
became  suddenly  alive  with  blue  coats  and  bayonets. 
Tears  filled  the  eyes  of  the  aged  woman  as  she  watched 


20O 


MARY  HOWITT.  [en.  vi. 


this  fresh  battalion  tramp  by  and  cross  the  bridge,  on 
its  way  to  the  frontier.  "Better  no  war!  Better  no 
soldiers !  "  she  cried,  shaking  her  head.  "  Yet  it's  the 
same  old  story  from  the  beginning.  When  Cain  was 
wroth,  he  rose  up  and  slew  his  brother  Abel.  The 
Lacustrines  lived  on  piles  in  the  lake  to  be  safe  from 
their  enemies  ;  and  in  my  time  I  have  seen  the  French 
once  in  Switzerland,  twice  in  Germany,  and  then  driven 
back  to  Paris." 

The  Protestant  population  of  Zurich  deplored  the  war ; 
but  being  persuaded  that  the  Prussian  rule  was  wise  and 
good,  conducive  to  morality,  general  education,  and  human 
advance,  warmly  espoused  its  cause.  In  fact,  we  found 
political  refugees,  such  as  Professors  Kinkel  and  Behn 
Eschenburg,  who  had  earlier  been  imprisoned  by  Prussia, 
now  offering  her  their  most  loyal  support.  A  tall,  slim, 
elderly  Dane,  who  was  sanguine  enough  to  anticipate 
that  the  outcome  of  the  present  campaign  would  be  the 
avenging  of  his  native  land  by  Napoleon,  was  amongst 
the  few  individuals  who  remembered  Prussia's  former 
aggrandisement,  and  imputed  the  war  to  Bismarck.  My 
husband  and  I  first  met  him  and  his  compact  little  wife 
in  a  wood.  They  were  walking  to  and  fro  intently  con- 
versing in  Danish  ;  but  whenever  they  crossed  our  path 
they  made  us  low  bows,  which  seemed  very  polite.  We 
learnt  later  that  they  were  vainly  seeking  for  the  wife's 
shawl,  which  had  slipped  off  his  arm. 

The  next  Sunday  they  and  we  had  simultaneously  fled 
to  the  many  vine-clad  arbours  of  the  pension-garden  from 
the  noise  of  dancing  and  singing  in  the  salle-d-manger. 
They  explained  to  us,  in  the  course  of  conversation,  that 
they  were  our  fellow-boarders,  but  lived  alone,  as  the 
husband,  who  was  an  author  named  Miiller — not  a  clergy- 


1870-71.]          IN  SWITZERLAND  AND  ITALY.  201 

man,  as  we  had  supposed  from  his  black  suit  and  white 
necktie — needed  quiet  for  his  literary  labours.  Telling 
them  our  name  as  an  interchange  of  civility,  they  asked 
inquiringly,  "What,  William  and  Mary?"  On  the  mor- 
row we  visited  them  in  their  cool  little  parlour  to  facili- 
tate, if  possible,  their  homeward  movements.  The  war 
frustrated  their  plan  of  revisiting  Italy,  where  they  had 
been  on  their  wedding-tour  thirty  years  earlier  ;  and  only 
anxious  safely  to  reach  Denmark,  they  proposed  journey- 
ing through  France  to  England,  and  crossing  from  Hull 
to  Copenhagen.  This  led  to  the  production  of  a  great 
parchment,  signed  and  sealed  by  Christian  IX.,  King  of 
Denmark,  King  of  the  Goths  and  Vandals,  in  which  His 
Majesty  claimed  free  passage  for  "  Frederik  Paludan 
Miiller,  Danish  author,  Knight  of  the  Danebrog,"  &c. 

We  mentioned  to  our  neighbours  at  the  supper-table 
what  a  distinguished  man  lived  below. 

"What!  the  old  Professor  ?— the  old  Theolog?"  ex- 
claimed a  weakly-chested  Prussian  medical  student,  who, 
unable  to  fight  for  his  country,  aided  her  cause  by  super- 
intending the  occupation  of  lint  and  bandage-making, 
daily  carried  on  by  the  lady-boarders. 

"  What !  Paludan  Miiller,  who  wrote  the  beautiful 
poem,  '  At  Vcere,'  in  which  a  child,  puzzled  with  the 
strange  mystery  of  existence,  asks  his  mother  what  it  is 
To  Be  ? "  demanded  a  fair-haired  Norwegian,  studying  at 
the  University. 

"No  other,"  we  replied;  and  the  next  morning  the 
courtly,  gentle  poet  received  a  perfect  ovation. 

Frau  Henriette  Heine,  the  widow  of  Heinrich  Heine's 
first  cousin  and  fellow-student,  was  staying  at  the  pension, 
and  sympathised  with  France.  Two  middle-aged  Jews 
and  their  wives,  respectively  from  Carlsruhe  and  Baden- 


2o2  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  vi. 

Baden,  professing  no  sentiments  of  patrie  or  Vaterland, 
smiled  and  were  quiescent  about  the  war,  which  was 
driving  most  of  the  guests  at  table  frantic.  The  majority 
consisted  of  other  Jews  and  refugees,  presided  over  by 
a  tall,  stout,  dark  man  in  grey,  also  belonging  to  "the 
nation."  He  spoke  most  modern  languages,  had  been 
much  in  England,  had  great  concerns  in  Spain,  impor- 
tant transactions  in  Germany,  and  twenty-three  relatives 
in  the  Prussian  army.  Day  and  night  he  thought,  spoke, 
and  dreamt  of  the  war;  and,  flaming  with  indignation, 
eloquently  denounced  Napoleon  as  the  arch-troubler  of 
the  world. 

In  the  general  European  excitement  false  rumours,  of 
course,  abounded.  Thus,  on  Sunday  morning,  August  7, 
we  were  mysteriously  followed  out  of  doors  by  the  Knecht. 
He  was  a  big  red-faced  fellow,  with  curly  hair,  who 
went  about  with  the  sleeves  of  his  pink  shirt  rolled 
up,  revealing  a  pair  of  hairy  arms  like  those  of  Esau. 
Putting  his  finger  to  his  nose,  he  dismally  whispered, 
"  Awful  news  !  The  French  have  massacred  twenty  thou- 
sand Germans,  the  Crown  Prince  among  them  !  "  Awful, 
indeed,  if  true.  But  at  the  table  d'hdte,  in  the  midst  of 
a  joyous  hubbub,  we  were  jubilantly  greeted  by  the  man 
in  grey  with — "  Glorious  victory !  Great  defeat  of  the 
French !  The  Crown  Prince  has  led  his  troops  with 
flying  colours  !  Hurrah  !  " 

The  words  "  Prussians  !  Worth  !  Victory !  Wounded 
French !  Fallen  French  ! "  echoed  through  the  house 
while  daylight  lasted.  When  the  church-clocks  of 
Zurich  had  long  struck  ten,  and  the  pension  had  retired 
for  the  night,  a  lamp  in  the  garden  shed  its  light  on 
the  ruddy  locks  of  the  Knecht,  who,  now  happily  well- 
informed,  see-sawing  his  sinewy  arms  up  and  down,  held 


1870-71.]          IN  SWITZERLAND  AND  ITALY.  203 

forth  to  a  party  of  Zurich  tradesmen,  still  lingering  over 
their  beer ;  and  the  everlasting  chorus,  in  a  high-pitched 
key,  "  Prussians  !  Worth  !  Victory  !  Wounded  French  ! 
Fallen  French ! "  entered  the  room  through  the  closed 
Venetian  shutters. 

On  the  morrow  the  rattle  of  vocal  artillery,  the  rolling 
echo  of  cachinnation  and  of  fun  at  the  expense  of  France 
never  ceased.  We  could  picture  the  same  simultaneous 
exultation  in  every  hotel,  inn,  and  coffee-house  in  Ger- 
many and  the  Protestant  parts  of  Switzerland.  We  could 
still  more  vividly  picture  all  the  beautiful  country  from 
Saverne  to  Strasburg  and  Basel,  which  we  had  seen  in 
April,  peaceful,  smiling,  rich  in  growing  crops  and  fruit- 
blossoms,  backed  by  blue  romantic-looking  mountains, 
and  full  of  happy,  busy  people,  now  devastated  by  fight- 
ing armies,  and  strewn  with  the  bodies  of  the  wounded 
and  the  dead. 

When  all  was  fair  and  affluent  in  Nature  around  us, 
the  purple  grapes  ripening  and  the  golden  grain  garnered, 
came  the  news  of  the  German  victories  at  Metz.  It  was 
the  sudden  collapse  of  the  great  French  campaign ;  just 
as  the  army  of  Xerxes  had  melted  away  like  mist  before 
that  of  Greece,  or  Sennacherib's  disappeared  before  the 
avenging  hosts  of  Israel. 

There  was  now  no  longer  any  fear  for  Switzerland ; 
and  on  August  22,  the  eve  of  our  departure  for  Ragatz,  we 
saw  three  soldiers,  who  had  returned  from  the  watch  on  the 
frontier  and  were  billeted  for  the  night  on  our  landlord, 
smoking  their  pipes  in  peace  and  contentment.  The  vague 
possibility  of  Napoleon  the  Third  avenging  the  wrongs 
of  Denmark  passed  from  the  minds  of  the  Paludan 
Miillers,  when  they  and  we  learned  at  Ragatz  on  Satur- 
day, September  3,  the  astounding  intelligence  that  the 


204  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  vi. 

Emperor  had  given  himself  up  to  King  Wilhelm,  and 
MacMahon  surrendered  with  his  entire  army.  On  Sep- 
tember 20,  Napoleon's  earlier  advice  to  Cavour,  "  Frap- 
pez  vite  et  frappez  fort"  was  fully  acted  upon.  Victor 
Emmanuel's  troops  entered  Rome,  and  at  the  same  time 
the  astute  abettor,  disappointed  in  all  his  hopes,  went 
into  exile.  The  vicissitudes  of  war  now  opened  to  the 
Paludan  Miillers  a  safe  passage  home  through  Germany, 
and  to  us  every  facility  for  reaching  Rome. 

The  public  mind  was  still  in  a  most  feverish  state  of 
sensational  curiosity ;  we  therefore  felt  it  quite  a  relief, 
before  leaving  Ragatz,  to  speak  with  an  old  herdsman 
on  a  mountain-top,  where,  in  rain  and  sunshine,  he  had 
spent  the  summer  alone,  fattening  oxen  for  the  butcher, 
and  conning  his  Catholic  Prayer-book.  "  He  did  not 
occupy  himself,"  he  said,  "  with  kings,  emperors,  and 
their  battles.  The  world's  tumults  were  not  his  concern. 
He  had  to  do  his  duty  by  the  beeves,  and  fit  his  soul 
for  a  better  world ! "  We  admired  the  lean  old  rustic, 
who,  guided  by  a  high  aim,  evidently  gleaned  real  satis- 
faction in  his  monotonous,  abject  existence. 

The  following  is  part  of  a  letter  written  by  William 
Howitt  to  his  elder  daughter  from  Zurich  : — 

"August  3,  1870. — I  must  tell  you  about  your  mother's 
and  my  visit  to  the  institution  for  healing  by  prayer 
founded  by  Dorothea  Trudel  at  Miinnedorf,  on  the  Lake 
of  Zurich.  The  establishment  consists  of  four  houses, 
situated  in  a  lane.  As  we  approached  we  saw  people, 
who  were  evidently  patients,  sitting  about  on  benches, 
and  were  told  at  the  principal  house  that  Herr  Zeller, 
the  present  proprietor,  was  engaged  till  two  o'clock.  We 
could,  if  we  liked,  wait  for  him. 


1870-71.]          IN  SWITZERLAND  AND  ITALY.  205 

"We  preferred  to  walk  up  the  village  to  the  church 
standing  on  the  hill  above  us.  The  road  led  us  between 
vineyards,  past  the  nice  white  Parsonage,  its  garden  a 
blaze  of  balsams.  From  the  churchyard  we  had  a  splen- 
did view  of  the  hilly  slopes  above,  the  scattered  white 
houses  of  Mannedorf  and  those  of  Wadenswyl  on  the 
opposite  shore ;  and  the  fine  alps  of  St.  Gall,  Glarus,  and 
Schwyz  to  the  east.  Nothing  could  be  more  delightful, 
nothing  could  give  a  more  vivid  idea  of  the  pleasant 
places  which  God  has  created  on  this  earth. 

"  Going  round  the  handsome,  well-kept  church  in 
search  of  shade,  we  found  seats,  and  one  of  them  already 
occupied  by  several  young  women  in  black  dresses  and 
white  caps.  We  asked  what  was  their  service,  and  learnt 
they  were  Deaconesses,  and  had  the  charge  of  an  infant- 
school  to  enable  the  mothers  to  go  out  to  work  in  the 
fields,  or  better,  to  employ  themselves  at  home. 

"  A  little  beyond  was  the  cemetery,  much  resembling  a 
Catholic  one,  only  without  holy-water  stoups  and  cruci- 
fixes, but  having  little  black  crosses  at  the  head  of  each 
grave.  The  gates  were  locked,  as  were  the  doors  of  the 
church.  How  odd  is  this  characteristic  of  Protestantism  ! 
Not  in  England  only,  but  in  the  very  countries  and  towns 
on  the  Continent,  where  the  inhabitants  are  of  both 
faiths,  the  Catholic  churches  and  cemeteries  stand  open 
and  the  Protestant  ones  are  closed.  The  Catholics  trust 
the  public,  but  the  Protestants  cannot,  so  far  as  their 
churches  and  cemeteries  are  concerned ;  although  walks 
and  gardens  are  recommended  by  printed  notices  to  the 
care  of  the  public,  and  grapes,  apples,  and  other  tempting 
fruit  hang  close  to  your  hand  by  the  highways,  and  no 
man  touches  them.  There  must  have  been  something 
hard  and  exclusive  in  the  original  leaven  of  Protestantism. 


2o6  MARY  HO  WITT.  [CH.  vi. 

I  have  noticed  that  the  Fathers  of  the  Reformation, 
Bullinger,  Calvin,  Zwingli,  &c.,  as  painted  by  their  con- 
temporaries, have  faces  keen  as  the  east  wind,  hard  as  the 
rock,  and  most  uninviting.  This  sour  severity  they  sent 
to  Scotland  by  Knox,  and  transmitted  it  to  the  iron- 
souled  Covenanters.  That  was  a  departure  from  Rome, 
but  by  no  means  a  returning  to  the  spirit  of  the  Prince 
of  Peace  and  Love,  to  the  warm  and  liberal  south  of 
Heaven  and  of  the  soul.  This  is  a  curious  fact. 

"  We  managed  to  get  the  keys  of  the  cemetery  from 
a  boy  gathering  the  pastor's  pears,  and  he  showed  us 
the  grave  of  Dorothea  Trudel.  It  was  in  the  row  of 
others,  and  in  no  way  distinguished  from  the  rest.  It 
had  its  little  black  wooden  cross,  and  this  inscription 
in  German: — 'No.  41.  Dorothea  Trudel,  born  October 
27,  1813,  died  September  6,  1862.'  Some  ivy  was 
wreathed  round  the  cross,  and  the  small  periwinkle 
bordered  the  grave.  Your  mother  plucked  a  few  leaves 
for  you. 

"We  returned  punctually  to  Herr  Zeller's  at  two 
o'clock.  All  the  doors  stood  open.  Nobody  seemed 
about.  Your  mother  went,  therefore,  on  a  tour  of  ex- 
ploration, and  learnt  that  Herr  Zeller  was  still  engaged 
with  a  patient.  We  were  shown  into  a  small  square 
room,  very  simply  furnished,  containing  a  harmonium, 
an  open  desk,  a  Bible,  and  several  pious  books,  a  white 
porcelain  stove,  and  upon  it  a  plaster  group  of  a  guardian 
angel  and  a  child. 

"  At  three  o'clock  Herr  Zeller  entered  the  room,  a  rather 
short,  youngish  man,  in  a  grey  coat,  having  no  look  of  a 
clergyman,  which,  however,  he  is,  for  he  preaches,  and 
sometimes  in  St.  Anna's  Church  in  Zurich.  He  told  us 
that  he  himself  had  come  there  as  a  patient  to  Dorothea 


1870-71.]          IN  SWITZERLAND  AND  ITALY.  207 

Trudel  for  a  complaint  in  the  head,  which  had  been  pro- 
nounced incurable,  and  which  sometimes  amounted  almost 
to  insanity.  He  was  thoroughly  cured,  and  remained 
and  devoted  himself  to  the  work.  He  is  obliged  to  have 
several  helpers,  men  and  women ;  and  most  of  the  latter 
had  first  been  patients.  He  has  about  thirty  cases  of 
bodily  disease,  and  the  same  number  of  mental ;  the 
charges  being  five  francs  each  for  the  poor  and  ten  francs 
for  the  wealthier  patients  weekly.  '  This  did  not  by 
any  means  cover  the  expenses,  but  the  Lord  sent  money 
liberally.'  He  had  also  opened  an  establishment  for 
children  across  the  lake  at  Wadenswyl.  The  method 
pursued  in  both  institutions  was  prudent  sanitary  pre- 
cautions and  dependence  on  the  apostolic  means  of 
anointing  with  oil  and  prayer  and  laying  on  of  hands. 
Sometimes  he  said  the  cures  were  instantaneous,  some- 
times slow,  sometimes  not  at  all.  He  appears  a  very 
candid,  straight-forward  man.  He  has  other  patients, 
who  board  in  the  village.  Amongst  these  is  an  English 
lady  who  is  suffering  from  melancholy." 

MARY  Ho  WITT  TO  THE  SAME. 

"  Bellagio,  Oct.  6,  1870. — Beauty  is  the  law  of  Nature 
in  this  Italian  country  and  clime.  The  one  drawback 
is  the  shut-up-ness  everywhere.  There  are  no  fields, 
merely  vineyards  or  the  beautiful  grounds  of  villas,  one 
and  all  enclosed  by  high  white  walls.  It  is  true  that 
beauty  is  visible  above  these  walls :  wild  tangles  of 
vegetation  among  the  olives  and  fig-trees  of  the  vine- 
yards :  roses  and  creepers,  now  gloriously  scarlet  and 
golden,  falling  over  the  walls  of  palace  gardens,  cypresses 
towering  aloft  like  spires,  tall  magnolias,  oleanders,  and 
myrtles — very  forests  of  them.  Of  these  you  get  glimpses, 


208  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  vi. 

but  nothing  more,  from  the  dusty  high  road  or  the 
hot,  paved  paths.  Nevertheless  all  is  to  me  a  series 
of  glorious  pictures,  suggestive  of  Turner,  of  Leslie,  of 
Leighton.  Most  lovely  it  is,  but  most  tantalising ;  after 
the  freedom  of  Switzerland,  a  great  change  most  depress- 
ing to  your  father.  He  maintains  that  Italy  is  essentially 
the  land  of  the  painter,  not  of  the  poet,  who,  bird-like, 
requires  the  freedom  of  the  fields  and  woods.  There  is 
truth  in  this.  Across  the  lake,  at  the  exquisite  Villa 
Carlotta,  I  felt  in  a  manner  I  had  never  done  before 
the  perfection  of  Art  founded  upon  and  aided  by  the 
beautiful  in  Nature  —  Nature,  which  makes  the  very 
pellitory  on  the  white  wall  a  drapery  of  beauty,  which 
turns  every  mildew  and  damp  stain  into  delicate  colour- 
ing, and  lends  a  nameless,  indescribable  poetry  to  the 
very  decay  and  neglect  which  meet  you  everywhere." 

THE  SAME  TO  THE  SAME. 

"Nov.  5,  1870.  —  We  have  been  three  days  in 
Venice.  It  is  far  finer,  far  more  astounding,  far  more 
pictorial  and  romantic,  than  I  had  ever  imagined.  The 
weather  is  glorious,  the  sky  deep  blue,  and  the  sunshine 
quite  hot.  As  all  Venice  is  built  to  keep  off  the  heat, 
the  narrow,  narrow  streets  are  cold  and  dusky,  but  the 
sunshine  lies  broad  and  bright  on  the  Grand  Canal,  on 
the  piazza  of  St.  Mark's,  and  all  the  open  spaces.  Every 
five  minutes,  almost,  we  are  thinking  of  you  and  dear 
Alfred.  Italy  is,  of  all  countries,  that  which  he  would 
love  most.  Since  we  have  been  here  we  have  done 
nothing  but  shopping,  with  the  exception  of  the  dear  old 
father,  who  strolls  about,  admiring  and  wondering  at 
the  strange  old  grandeur  round  him ;  turning  into  St. 
Mark's,  when  he  is  tired,  to  rest  there  ;  coming  out  again 


1870-71.]  IN  SWITZERLAND  AND  ITALY.  209 

to  see  the  pigeons  fed,  and  buying  a  little  loaf  or  Indian- 
corn  and  feeding  them  himself." 

November  22  found  us  in  Rome,  and  speedily  estab- 
lished in  our  "own  hired  house,"  as  St.  Paul,  great  Teacher 
of  the  Gentiles,  had  been  eighteen  centuries  earlier. 
We  were  located  on  the  summit  of  one  of  the  seven 
hills,  at  a  corner  of  four  converging  streets,  each  visibly 
terminated  by  an  historic  monument :  to  the  north  by  the 
Egyptian  obelisk  and  piazza  of  Trinita  de'  Monte ;  to  the 
south  by  the  lofty  campanile  and  basilica  of  St.  Maria 
Maggiore,  stretching  across  its  ample  and  elevated  piazza, 
marked  by  another  noble  obelisk.  To  the  east  we  had 
the  Porta  Pia,  and  the  still  open  breach  through  which 
the  Italian  troops,  two  months  earlier,  had  entered  Rome. 
They  had,  by  this  deed,  broken  down  the  lofty  garden- 
wall  of  the  Bonaparte  villa,  trampled  over  and  damaged 
the  beautiful  grounds,  which  we  found  gardeners  putting 
in  order.  To  the  west,  but  a  few  paces  from  our  door, 
extended  the  long  side  facade  of  the  Quirinal  palace, 
abutting  on  Monte  Cavallo,  with  its  Egyptian  obelisk 
and  famous  group  of  Castor  and  Pollux  reining  their 
horses. 

The  keys  of  the  Quirinal  were  still  at  the  Vatican  ; 
the  doors  had,  however,  been  opened  by  a  picklock,  and 
troops  of  workmen  were  busy  inside  pulling  down  and 
building  up  ;  whilst  under  the  colonnade  of  the  inner 
court  were  temporary  heaps  of  old  timber  and  wains- 
coting. 

The  preparations  were  made  in  the  hope  of  the  speedy 
advent  of  a  reluctant  and  perplexed  King,  doomed  to 
share  with  his  vis-a-vis  at  the  Vatican  a  capital  that 
recalled  merely  papal  or  republican  memories.  The 

VOL.  II.  0 


2io  MARY  HO  WITT.  [en.  vi. 

Emperor  Constantine,  on  becoming  Christian,  had  found 
it  advisable  to  remove  the  seat  of  government  to  Con- 
stantinople ;  and  through  the  long  succeeding  centuries, 
Rienzi,  the  French,  and  "  Young  Italy "  had  each  pro- 
claimed the  patrimony  of  the  Popes  a  republic,  not  a 
monarchy.  The  thought  oppressed  Victor  Emmanuel ; 
he  dreaded  to  sleep  in  the  violated  home  of  a  deprived 
Pontiff,  who  was  still  charming  the  faithful  by  the  meek- 
ness and  patience  with  which  he  bore  his  sorrows. 

On  December  22  Rome  was  officially  declared  the 
capital  of  Italy.  Yet  the  arrival  of  the  King  was  con- 
stantly postponed.  Many  of  our  acquaintance  said,  in- 
deed, that  he  never  would  come.  Silence  and  gloom 
prevailed.  There  were  no  great  Church  functions,  few 
strangers,  and  much  discontent  in  the  minds  of  hotel 
and  lodging-house  keepers.  On  Sunday,  Christmas  Day, 
it  rained  piteously ;  on  Monday  with  increasing  violence. 
On  Wednesday  the  Tiber,  having  risen  to  a  terrific 
height,  most  destructively  inundated  the  lower  parts 
of  the  city.  On  Friday  tfre  muddy,  yellow  waters  had 
sufficiently  subsided  for  people  to  be  released  from 
their  terrible  captivity ;  but  wherever  the  flood  had 
been,  cellars  and  lower  storeys  were  submerged.  In 
the  middle  of  the  streets  mud  lay  ankle-deep — thick, 
slimy  mud,  that  adhered  like  ointment  to  everything  it 
touched,  and  left  a  yellow  stain  behind.  The  scene  of 
ruin  was  indescribable.  In  the  Corso,  grand  plate-glass 
windows  were  obscured  with  mud,  and  panels  of  finely 
painted  doors  bulged  with  water.  Anxious-looking 
shopkeepers  and  weary  servants  were  splashed  with  the 
mud  they  were  sweeping  from  within-doors  on  to  the 
pavement.  On  Saturday,  at  four  o'clock  in  the  morning, 
we  heard,  as  we  lay  in  bed,  a  distant  shout  and  a  roar 


1870-71.]  IN  SWITZERLAND  AND  ITALY.  211 

as  of  driving  carriages.  Up  we  jumped,  and  looking 
from  our  windows,  saw,  in  a  sudden  illumination  of 
Bengal  light,  the  long-expected  King,  amid  shouts  of 
"  Evviva  il  Re  !  "  flash  past  in  a  state  equipage,  followed 
by  other  carriages  and  torches.  It  was  the  disaster  of 
the  flood  that  had  brought  him  so  suddenly ;  but  after 
visiting  the  distressed  portions  of  the  city  and  leaving 
money  for  the  sufferers,  he  departed  the  same  night, 
New  Year's  Eve. 

In  February  occurred  the  maddest  Carnival  that  had 
been  seen  in  Rome  since  1848.  Our  niece  and  our 
young  friend,  after  enjoying  it  amazingly,  left  the  last  day 
but  one  of  the  Carnival,  under  suitable  escort,  for  Eng- 
land ;  and  the  evening  before  their  departure,  went  with 
Margaret  and  some  of  our  acquaintance  to  drink  at  the 
Fountain  of  Trevi,  that  they  might  come  back  to  Rome. 
In  their  absence  we  sent  down  our  old  woman-servant, 
Rosa,  a  peasant  from  Rimini,  to  the  landlord,  who 
dwelt  below,  with  the  request  that  the  street-door  might 
be  left  ajar  and  the  oil-lamp  on  the  stairs  not  extin- 
guished until  the  signorine  returned. 

What,  then,  was  our  surprise  and  horror,  when  Rosa 
rushed  into  the  drawing-room,  shrieking  that  "  the  bir- 
bone  (rascal)  of  a  landlord  had  bastinaded  her ; "  there- 
with pointing  to  the  marks  of  a  cane  across  her  face. 
She  was  pursued  by  the  perpetrator,  a  man  of  a  melan- 
choly countenance  and  black  hair  and  eyes.  He,  livid 
with  rage,  was  followed  by  his  handsome  young  wife  in  a 
great  flutter.  Our  servant  denounced  them  for  claiming 
our  charcoal  ashes  for  their  bucato — the  buck  or  lye  for 
their  clothes  to  soak  in  ;  they,  her,  for  shutting  a  door  in 
their  son's  face.  This  in  their  eyes  was  a  tremendous 
offence ;  nevertheless  we  managed  politely  to  get  the 


212 


MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  vi 


couple  back  to  their  own  premises.  Rosa  was  beyond  us. 
Screaming  and  weeping,  she  threw  open  a  window,  and 
shrieked  her  wrongs  into  the  street.  This  led  to  the 
speedy  arrival  of  two  policemen,  one  of  whom  remained 
pacing  up  and  down  before  the  house,  much  to  the 
surprise  of  the  party  returning  from  the  Fountain  of 
Trevi. 

We  were  not  wholly  unprepared  for  this  outburst  of 
hot  Italian  temper  on  the  part  of  our  padrone.  He  had 
more  than  once,  without  the  least  provocation,  suddenly 
appeared  on  the  verge  of  a  towering  rage  ;  then,  conquer- 
ing his  passion,  would  send  up  flowers  or  newspapers,  as 
if  to  remove  any  disagreeable  impression.  The  morning 
after  the  assault  he  wrote  a  letter  to  my  husband,  "  ask- 
ing pardon  for  the  scandal,  but  requiring  us  to  dismiss 
our  wicked  servant,  who  was  an  offence  to  his  excellent 
consort."  As  Rosa,  notwithstanding  her  curious  habit  ol 
drinking  our  lamp-oil  like  water,  suited  us  admirably, 
and  as  inquiries  in  the  neighbourhood  confirmed  our 
suspicions  of  our  landlord's  excitability,  William  appealed 
to  the  British  Consul. 

Mr.  Severn,  the  artist,  the  devoted  friend  and  nurse  of 
Keats,  held  this  post ;  and  my  husband,  calling  at  the 
Consulate,  found  him  occupied  at  his  easel,  in  a  studio 
approached  through  a  suite  of  lofty  rooms  hung  with 
paintings,  and  in  person  reminding  him  of  Coleridge  in 
the  decline  of  life  :  the  somewhat  corpulent  tendency, 
the  black  velvet  waistcoat,  a  certain  similarity  of  features, 
and  the  head  slightly  thrown  back  in  talking.  On 
hearing  of  the  fray  he  said — 

"  I've  known  Italians  die  in  these  furies,  in  what 
they  call  a  Rabbiatura.  It  is  best  to  cow  such  people, 
who  are  generally  poltroons.  Fifty  years  ago  the 


1870-71.]  IN  SWITZERLAND  AND  ITALY.  213 

Roman  eating-houses  were  much  worse  than  now. 
Dear  Keats  and  I  had  such  wretched  dinners  sent  in, 
that  he  told  me  one  morning  '  he  had  hit  on  a  plan 
for  us  to  be  better  served.'  I  wondered  what  he  meant 
to  do,  for  I  knew  no  Italian  in  those  days,  and  Keats, 
though  quick  at  learning,  not  enough  to  discuss  the 
merits  of  a  dinner.  The  trattore  brought  the  food,  as 
usual,  in  a  basket.  Keats  lifted  the  lid,  and  perceiving 
at  a  glance  the  quality  of  the  fare,  without  a  word 
took  each  dish  to  the  window  and  emptied  it  into  the 
street.  The  cook  never  charged  us  for  the  dinner,  and 
gave  us  a  good  one  ever  after. 

"  I  did  not  forget  that  lesson.  After  poor,  gentle, 
vivacious  Keats  was  dead  of  his  consumption,  our 
padrone,  fearing  infection,  burnt  the  furniture,  for 
which  he  sent  me  in  a  tremendous  bill.  After  it  had 
been  discharged,  he  summoned  me  a  month  later  to 
pay  for  the  broken  crockery.  On  going  to  the  house 
where  we  had  dwelt,  at  the  right-hand  corner  of  the 
Spanish  steps  ascending  to  the  Trinita^  de'  Monte,  he 
showed  me  on  a  table  a  pile  of  broken  plates,  cups, 
and  saucers,  which  he  must  have  ransacked  the  neigh- 
bourhood to  collect.  Feigning  a  great  rage,  with  one 
fell  swoop  I  dashed  all  the  bits  to  the  floor,  and  the 
affair  was  settled." 

Mr.  Severn  effectually  silenced  our  padrone,  not- 
withstanding the  ominous  postscript  to  his  final  bill : 
"  He  meant  to  be  legally  indemnified  for  all  the  damage 
we  had  done — chi  rompe  paga."  This  sentence,  pla- 
carded at  the  time  about  Rome  in  pink,  blue,  and 
yellow,  had  greatly  puzzled  us.  One  reading  of  it  was, 
whichever,  King  or  Pope,  broke  the  peace  would  have 
to  pay.  It  might  have  some  such  covert  meaning,  just 


2i4  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  vi. 

as,  in  1873,  the  words  in  large  letters,  "  Abbasso  Verdi," 
were  no  opprobrious  term  for  the  composer  of  II  Tro- 
vatore  and  other  popular  modern  operas,  but  signified 
"  Down  with  Vittorio  Emanuele,  Re  d' Italia ;  "  the 
word  Verdi  being  employed  for  an  acrostic. 

The  conduct  of  our  later  landlords  seemed  swayed 
by  combined  feelings  of  liking  for  their  tenants  and 
self-interest.  We  never  again  met  with  such  an  instance 
of  unbridled,  fierce,  and  turbulent  irascibility.  But  then 
this  padrone,  who  has  since  been  elevated  to  the  rank 
of  a  cavaliere  by  the  Italian  Government,  was  notorious 
for  his  violence.  When  we  were  located  in  charming 
new  quarters,  the  rector  of  a  college,  now  a  bishop  in 
America,  was  charged  with  a  message  to  us  from  an 
Italian  priest,  to  the  effect  that,  having  dwelt  above  us, 
he  should  have  personally  expressed  at  the  time  his 
sympathy  in  our  annoyance,  but  for  the  molestation  it 
might  have  entailed  on  his  landlord's  family,  who  were 
the  second-floor  tenants  of  our  padrone.  My  husband 
next  read  in  his  Koman  newspaper  that  the  female 
servant  of  the  same  padrone,  having  on  one  holiday 
exceeded  her  leave  of  absence,  was  accompanied  back 
by  a  policeman,  who  threatened  to  punish  her  master 
if  he  attempted  to  maltreat  her. 

The  good  offices  of  Margaret  Foley,  the  gifted,  gene- 
rous-hearted New  England  sculptress,  and  her  tender- 
spirited  young  friend,  Lizzy  H ,  had  procured  us  a 

much  better  home  than  we  had  earlier  enjoyed.  It  was 
with  these  and  some  other  valued  friends  that  William 
and  I  celebrated  our  golden  wedding,  on  April  16,  1871, 
by  a  memorable  excursion  to  Castel  Fusano. 

Starting  from  our  dwelling  in  the  Via  di  Porta  Pin- 
ciana— so  called  from  the  closed  gate  where  the  blind 


1870-71.]  IN  SWITZERLAND  AND  ITALY.  215 

Belisarius  is  said  to  have  sat  and  begged — and  passing 
through  the  Porta  di  San  Paolo,  which  he  rebuilt,  we 
drove  over  the  solitary  Campagna,  green  with  spring 
grass  and  leaves,  for  fifteen  miles.  Then,  leaving,  to 
our  right,  the  ancient  walls  and  castle  of  Ostia — a  place 
so  endeared  to  many  devout  souls  from  its  pathetic  as- 
sociation with  St.  Augustine  and  his  dying  mother — 

•/  O 

we  proceeded  a  couple  of  miles  to  Prince  Chigi's  park, 
Castel  Fusano.  There,  in  one  of  the  avenues  of  huge 
stone-pines,  we  deposited  our  wraps  and  provisions,  and 
greeted  by  a  nightingale  and  gathering  masses  of  fra- 
grant flowers,  we  wandered  on  for  another  mile  to  the 
Mediterranean. 

No  words  can  describe  the  beauty  of  the  scene.  A 
causeway  paved  with  blocks  of  lava  led  from  the  back  of 
the  ancient  castellated  mansion,  on  its  lawny  meadows, 
between  woods  of  arbutus,  phillyrea,  of  flowering  daphne, 
cistus,  myrtle,  and  heath  twenty  feet  high,  carpeted  with 
crimson  cyclamens  and  overshadowed  by  the  solemn  ilex, 
cork,  and  pine,  to  a  somewhat  desolate  teach  of  shifting 
sands,  held  together  by  tufts  of  sea-wheat  and  the  eringo, 
with  its  blue-green,  thistle-like  foliage.  It  was  wonderful 
to  be  where  in  all  probability  the  Christian  philosopher, 
Minucius  Felix,  and  his  friend  Octavius  walked  from  "  that 
very  pleasant  city,  Ostia,  .  .  .  tracking  the  coast  of  the 
gently  bending  shore  ; "  and  although,  after  a  lapse  of  six- 
teen centuries,  all  now  was  solitary  and  deserted,  yet,  just 
as  then,  "  the  sea,  always  restless,  even  when  the  winds 
are  lulled,  came  up  on  the  shore  with  waves  crisp  and 
curling." 

We  had  a  merry  collation  in  an  avenue  of  stone-pines 
near  Prince  Chigi's  fine  old  casino ;  then,  after  wading 
to  our  waists  through  a  sea  of  flowering  asphodels  to  gain 


2i6  MARY  HO  WITT.  [CH.  vi. 

a  clear  view  of  the  Pontine  Marshes,  drove  back  in  a 
summer-like  evening  to  Rome. 

It  had  been  a  fine  April  morning  fifty  years  earlier 
when  William  and  I,  with  our  nearest  relatives,  walked 
to  Meeting,  all  the  little  town  of  Uttoxeter  looking 
on.  I  wonder  I  did  not  feel  very  nervous.  We  had 
some  of  the  Friends  to  dinner — a  better  one  than  usual ; 
if  I  remember  rightly,  a  cook  was  engaged  for  the  occa- 
sion from  the  White  Hart.  Then  William  and  I  and  all 
the  young  people  strolled  in  the  garden  and  up  to  the 
Bank  Closes,  a  nice  little  home  walk.  After  our  return 
rain  fell.  We  had  more  Friends  to  tea ;  all  those  who 
had  not  been  invited  to  dinner.  Afterwards  the  sun  came 
out,  and  we  left  in  quite  a  splendid  sunset.  I  remember 
so  well  how  bright  the  evening  was  after  the  rain,  and 
have  often  thought  it  was  like  our  life — marked  by  April 
showers,  with  a  lovely  calm  sunset.  From  the  period  of 
our  arrival  in  Rome,  I  may  truly  say  that  the  promise  in 
Scripture,  "At  evening  time  it  shall  be  light,"  was  in  our 
case  fulfilled. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

ROME  AND  TYROL. 


OUR  tenants  in  England  were  desirous  of  continuing 
their  lease  of  The  Orchard,  and  we  to  stay  on  in  Italy, 
where  the  climate  had  something  so  soothing,  so  exactly 
fitting  to  old  age.  I  prized  in  Rome  the  kind,  sympa- 
thetic friends  given  to  us,  the  ease  of  social  existence, 
the  poetry,  classic  grace,  the  peculiar  and  deep  pathos 
diffused  around  ;  above  all,  the  stirring  and  affecting 
historic  memories  ;  for  every  stone  and  monument  spoke 
of  famous  classic  or  Christian  deeds,  of  the  blood  of 
martyrs  and  the  virtues  of  saints.  It  was  a  locality  which 
led  me  to  perceive  how,  in  a  manner,  each  person  makes 
his  own  heaven  or  hell.  To  some  of  our  intimate  friends 
Rome  was  truly,  in  the  words  of  Dante  — 

"  The  holy  place  wherein 
Sits  the  successor  of  the  greatest  Peter  ;  " 

the  centre  of  triumphant  Christianity,  sacred  as  Jeru- 
salem until  the  Crucifixion.  To  others  it  held  the  posi- 
tion of  pagan  Rome  to  the  early  Christians  —  a  centre 
of  cruelty,  abomination,  and  duplicity,  its  sanitary  short- 
comings being  a  type  of  its  social  condition.  To  me  it 
was  a  city  of  habitation  after  long  wanderings  in  the 
wilderness  ;  to  my  husband  —  who  did  not  unreservedly 


2l8 


MARY  HOWITT. 


[CH.  VII 


share  my  enthusiasm — it  became,  as  well  as  to  myself, 
the  finishing-school  of  our  earthly  life. 

In  the  June  of  1871,  accompanied  by  Miss  Foley, 
we  went  for  the  summer  to  Tyrol,  where  we  were  quite 
providentially  led,  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Bruneck, 
to  an  old  mansion  called  Mayr-am-Hof,  which,  though 


MAYR-AM-HOF. 


evidencing  a  slow  decline,  stood  up  massive  and  grand 
at  the  farther  end  of  the  gradually  ascending  village 
of  Dietenheim.  It  was  a  long  building,  with  lofty  roof 
and  dormer-windows,  plastered  and  painted  after  the 
Palladian  style  in  effective  designs  to  represent  Grecian 
pilasters,  circles,  and  other  ornamentations,  and  pro- 
tected by  much  fine  ironwork  that  grated  the  windows 


1871-79-] 


EOME  AND  TYROL. 


219 


or  swelled  out  in  jutting  balconies.  It  had  a  back- 
yard and  farm-buildings  of  no  mean  order,  seen  through 
a  stately  but  somewhat  ruinous  entrance,  conspicuously 
surmounted  by  a  fresco  painted  dull  red  and  white, 
like  the  rest  of  the  building.  The  subject,  in  harmony 


ENTRANCE  TO  THE  BACK-YARD. 


with  the  religious  faith  in  Tyrol,  represented  the  Virgin 
and  Child  attended  by  St.  Joseph  ;  a  guardian  angel  and 
its  human  charge  ;  St.  John  Nepomucen,  protector  against 
floods  ;  and  St.  Florian,  against  fire. 

We  learnt  from  a  tall  young  peasant,  with  a  refined 


MARY  HOWITT. 


[CH.  VII. 


countenance  and  the  most  self-possessed  manners,  that 
the  place  belonged  to  his  father.  The  family  merely 
occupied  a  portion,  and  the  rest  was  empty.  We  ex- 
pressed a  desire  to  inspect  the  interior,  and  were  courte- 
ously conducted  upstairs  through  a  great  stone  hall  into 
a  saloon  of  vast  dimensions,  with  a  fine  embossed  ceiling 
of  stucco,  and  lighted  by  eight  windows.  We  were 
shown  an  adjoining  room  wainscoted,  having  the  char- 


THE  FRESCO. 


acter  of  an  oratory ;  and  recrossing  the  hall,  a  spacious 
chamber,  possessing  a  long  interior  latticed  casement, 
screened  by  an  old-fashioned  chintz  curtain  with  a  kneel- 
ing bench  under  it,  and  opening  like  a  squire's  pew  into 
the  old  chapel.  We  were  taken,  on  the  second  floor,  into 
three  vacant  rooms  occupying  the  broad  southern  gable- 
front,  the  centre  one  having  a  balcony  which  commanded 
a  splendid  view  up  and  down  the  Pusterthal. 


i87i-79-J  HOME  AND  TYROL.  221 

Although  the  rooms  were  almost  bare,  they  were 
furnished  with  beautiful  views,  had  noble  proportions 
and  well-scrubbed  floors ;  and  the  whole  place,  from 
its  uniqueness,  space,  and  dignified  decay,  so  appealed 
to  our  taste  that  we  esteemed  ourselves  fortunate  to  be 
accepted  as  tenants.  Our  landlord,  who  had  never  let 
rooms  before,  was  Anton  Mutschlechner,  best  known 
as  the  "  Hof-bcvuer,"  a  spare  man  in  a  brown  home- 
spun jacket  faced  with  green,  unless  it  were  some  great 
Church  festival,  when  he  donned  the  long  Noah's  Ark 
coat  in  which  he  was  married  a  quarter  of  a  century 
before.  He  was  a  quiet  disciplinarian,  given  to  hard 
toil  and  pious  meditation.  In  1809  he  had  been  a 
funny  little  Tyroler  boy,  whom  the  French  officers  then 
quartered  in  Mayr-am-Hof  petted  and  caressed.  They 
were  otherwise  terrible  and  alarming  lodgers,  who  burnt 
cartloads  of  wood  in  the  great  stoves,  damaging,  crack- 
ing, and  ever  after  rendering  unserviceable  the  elaborate 
pile  of  white  faience  in  the  saloon. 

We  vastly  enjoyed  our  Robinson  Crusoe  life  at  Mayr- 
am-Hof,  where  a  godly  routine  of  prayer  and  labour 
hallowed  the  entire  household.  Margaret  Foley,  a  born 
carpenter  and  practical  inventor,  set  to  work,  and  so  did 
my  husband,  and  made  us  all  sorts  of  capital  contriv- 
ances. Thus,  with  fine  weather  out-of-doors  and  a  roof 
over  our  heads,  we  lacked  nothing.  Behind  the  house 
a  common  gently  sloped  upwards,  surmounted  by  an 
old  crucifix  and  two  lime-trees.  There  we  sat  evening 
after  evening  to  watch  the  wonderful  sunset  after-glow 
on  a  group  of  strange,  rugged  dolomite  mountains. 
They  filled  up  the  eastern  end  of  the  valley,  and  be- 
came indescribably  beautiful  and  strangely  spiritual  as 
they  flushed  crimson,  melted  into  deep  violet,  faded  a 


222 


MARY  HOWITT. 


[CH.  VII. 


ghastly  grey,  then  were  shrouded  from  view  by  the  pall 
of  night. 

Substantial  Mayr-am-Hof,  so  attractive  to  us  in  its 
venerable  decay,  grew  from  a  retreat  for  a  few  weeks 
into  our  permanent  summer  home.  Leaving  hot  weather 


THE  STOVE  OF  WHITE  FAIENCE. 


and  ripe  cherries  in  Home,  we  have  hastened  thither  at 
the  beginning  of  May  to  find  the  sparkling  snow  lying 
thick  and  low  on  the  mountains  ;  the  trees  leafless,  but  a 
green  flush  on  the  giant  poplar,  and  the  cherry-blossoms 
ready  to  burst  forth.  The  fleeting  hours,  however,  soon 


1871-79-]  ROME  AND  TYROL.  223 

brought  us  sultry  summer  heat,  interspersed  with  heavy 
thunderstorms.  Then  came  calm,  cloudless  autumn  days, 
when  the  fir-trees  stood  out  black  against  the  intense 
blue,  fathomless  sky,  with  here  and  there  a  mountain 
ash  or  a  wild-cherry  dyed  gold  or  crimson ;  but  all  other 
foliage  suggestive  of  July.  Next  came  November,  with 
gloomy  heavens,  withered  scattered  leaves,  wild  winds 
and  rattling  casements,  making  us  thankful  to  cross  the 
bare,  brown  plain  to  the  railway  station,  en  route  for 
benign  and  radiant  Italy. 

Eesuming  now  the  chronological  thread  from  April 
1871,  the  following  passages  from  letters  tell  the  story 
sufficiently. : — 

MARY  HOWITT  TO  HER  ELDER  DAUGHTER. 

"  Casa  Qverbeck,  Rocca  di  Papa,  May  30,  1871. — 
Here  we  are  very  comfortable  and  well,  the  father 
cheerful  as  the  day  is  long;  but  it  is  decided  that  we 
act  on  the  original  plan,  and  go  on  in  a  fortnight  to 
Tyrol.  Mr.  Carl  Hoffmann  is  a  good  young  fellow,  and 
has  done  all  he  could  to  make  us  comfortable.  He 
apologised  once  for  seeming  to  make  so  free  with  us, 
but  said  he  felt  at  home  with  us  from  the  first  moment ; 
there  was  something  about  us  that  reminded  him  of  his 
grandfather  Overbeck,  whose  memory  he  greatly  reveres. 
He  arranged  everything  for  us  to  go  to  the  flower-fes- 
tival at  Genzano  the  day  before  yesterday.  We  had  five 
donkeys,  and  nothing  could  have  been  pleasanter. 

"  On  Friday  the  26th  we  walked  to  Hannibal's  Camp, 
which  is  a  meadow  platform  of  great  extent  above  the 
volcanic  heights  of  Rocca  di  Papa.  There  we  were  met 
by  a  little  troop  of  lads,  all  rags  and  tatters,  with  bare, 


224  MARY  HO  WITT.  [CH.  vir. 

dirty  feet,  and  either  bare-headed  or  with  old  round- 
crowned  hats,  which  tumbled  almost  over  their  noses. 
On  they  came  in  single  file  along  the  narrow  channel 
of  the  rock-road,  shouldering  stout  sticks  for  guns,  and 
under  the  command  of  a  little  active  urchin  with  white 
paper  bands  on  his  arm  and  the  air  of  a  general.  We 
had  to  step  aside  to  make  way  for  them,  when  at  once 
a  halt  was  called.  The  juvenile  troop  was  marshalled 
on  a  broad  shelf  of  rock,  and  quick  as  lightning  went 
through  their  evolutions.  They  shouldered,  grounded 
their  arms,  fired,  charged,  fired  again,  and  twice,  at 
the  command  of  their  officer,  fell  flat  to  the  ground, 
and  so  fired,  taking  aim  at  the  village  of  Marino,  lying 
far  below,  four  miles  off,  on  the  edge  of  the  Latin 
plain. 

•  "The  eldest  of  this  little  company  was  eleven,  the 
youngest  probably  seven,  yet  all  had  the  most  perfect  self- 
composure  and  every  movement  was  agile  and  graceful. 
But  this  was  no  other  than  a  tiny  Papalini  troop,  true 
to  the  Holy  Father,  and  ready,  as  they  thought,  to  fight 
for  him.  The  worst  of  this  Italian  peasantry  is,  that 
all  are  beggars.  The  Roman  Church  has  so  long  taught 
that  alms-giving  is  a  cardinal  virtue  that  it  has  converted 
the  people  into  suppliants  for  charity ;  so  now  our  brave 
little  Papalini  troop  had  no  sooner  gone  through  their 
manoeuvres  than  their  leader  stepped  forward,  and 
stretching  out  his  small  dirty  hand  said  with  an  air  of 
coaxing  beggary,  '  Dated  qualche  cosa.'  But  we  never 
give  to  the  beggars,  so  we  parted  somewhat  disgusted 
with  each  other. 

"When,  however,  we  were  advancing  up  the  steep 
Rocca  di  Papa  street  with  our  train  of  donkeys,  on 
Sunday,  we  soon  found  ourselves  attacked  by  the 


1871-79-]  ROME  AND  TYROL.  225 

dated  qualche  cosa  tribe  ;  and  amongst  them  the  small 
officer  of  the  former  evening,  with  his  stout  stick 
which  had  served  then  for  a  gun  still  in  his  hand.  He 
was  there,  all  smiles  and  courtesy  ;  and  with  something 
of  the  old  martial  character,  declared  himself  now  to 
be  our  defender.  Turning  to  Carl  Hoffmann,  he  said, 
*  I  knew  these  creatures  would  tease  you  with  their 
begging ;  so  I  have  come  to  attend  you  to  Genzano, 
Signor  Carlo.' — '  What  a  clever  little  lad  that  is  ! '  we 
remarked.  '  He  is  an  old  acquaintance  of  mine,'  replied 
Herr  Hoffmann ;  '  he  is  Ernesto,  the  Maestro  di  Casa,  as 
you  will  find  before  long.' 

"  We  went  to  Genzano  through  the  great  chestnut 
woods  which  clothe  these  hillsides.  Above  us,  and  now 
left  behind,  was  the  white  convent  of  the  Passionists 
on  the  lofty  Monte  Cavo,  where  until  the  time  of 
Cardinal  York  were  the  ruins  of  the  great  temple  of 
Jupiter.  Here  and  there  through  openings  in  the  woods 
we  saw  below  us  the  far- spreading  Campagna ;  beyond, 
the  green  wooded  heights  of  Albano  and  Castel  Gan- 
dolfo ;  and  beyond,  all  the  silver  belt  of  the  sea.  The 
path  was  so  narrow  through  the  woods  that  we  advanced 
in  single  file,  with  bushes  of  golden  broom  bending 
beneath  their  weight  of  flowers,  and  with  such  a  mass 
of  blossoming  plants  below,  bordering  the  way-side,  as 
could  only  be  equalled  in  an  English  flower-garden  : 
balsam-like  archangels,  vetches  of  the  loveliest  and  most 
varied  growths,  laburnums,  sweet  mignonette,  roses, 
white  masses  of  arenaria,  rockets,  asphodels,  now  just 
over,  wild  sweet  peas,  columbines,  cytisus.  We  thought 
the  flowers  beautiful  in  Switzerland  ;  they  are  still  more 
so  in  this  finer  climate. 

"  On  we  went   for  four   or   five   pleasant   miles    and 
VOL.  ii.  r 


228 


MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  vn. 


village,  Rocca  di  Papa,  is  the  funniest  place  you  can 
conceive.  It  is  built  up  the  face  of  a  great  rock,  house 
above  house,  looking  from  below  a  dense  mass  of  build- 
ings. The  streets  are  too  steep  for  carriages,  and  in  many 
places  a  succession  of  steps.  It  is  the  filthiest  village 
imaginable;  and  the  population,  about  three  thousand 
persons,  are  as  thick  on  the  ground  as  rabbits  in  a  warren. 
In  an  evening  they  are  all  out  in  the  streets,  so  that  you 
have  a  full  view  of  them.  They  are  a  most  Irish-looking 
population.  The  men  dress  exactly  like  Irish,  in  rough, 
coarse  bluish  coats,  breeches,  and  old  sunburnt  hats,  with 
tapering  crowns  and  slouching  brims.  The  women,  how- 
ever, are  very  different,  dressing  in  bright  colours,  red, 
lilac,  and  yellow,  with  a  square  piece  of  white  linen  on 
their  heads,  or  else  a  coloured  kerchief." 

MARY  HOWITT  TO  HER  SON  AND  DAUGHTER-IN-LAW. 

"  Dietenheim,  Tyrol,  Aug.  6,  1871. — We  had  a  great 
desire  to  go  up  to  the  Aim  or  Alp,  that  we  might  be  able 
to  understand  the  life  of  these  simple  people  thoroughly. 
The  Hof-bauer  begged  that  we  would  do  so,  and  make 
ourselves  quite  at  home  with  the  best  they  could  offer  us. 
We  accordingly  invited  Maria,  the  daughter,  to  accompany 
us.  She  is  a  tall,  buxom  young  woman  of  about  four- 
and-twenty,  full  of  good-humour,  and  was  highly  delighted 
with  the  invitation. 

"We  went  in  the  Stellwagen  to  the  village  of  Taufers ; 
and  engaging  a  man  at  the  inn  to  carry  up  our  personal 
belongings  and  our  ample  provisions,  we  set  off  on  foot 
up  a  magnificent  valley,  ever  ascending  through  ancient 
woods  of  larch  and  spruce,  and  by  the  side  of  a  tumultuous 
river  which  comes  down  from  mountains  ten  to  eleven 
thousand  feet  high.  This  steep  road,  which  no  carriage 


1871-79-]  ROME  AND  TYROL.  229 

can  ascend,  is  traversed  by  the  herds  of  cattle,  that  come 
here  in  the  early  summer  and  return  in  the  autumn,  their 
hoofs  being  able  to  find  foothold  on  the  rock ;  and  it 
is  curious  that,  so  delighted  are  the  cattle  to  go  thither 
for  the  summer  after  the  winter's  confinement  in  the 
stall,  that  they  make  the  journey  with  a  kind  of  joyful 
impatience,  going  on  still  more  eagerly  as  they  approach 
the  end ;  and  when  they  have  reached  the  accustomed 
alp,  rushing  to  the  higher  summit  as  if  they  could  not 
sufficiently  enjoy  the  luxury  of  the  change.  These  are 
the  cattle  which  have  already  been  on  the  alp,  the  new- 
comers are  often  at  first  timid,  and  have  to  learn  how  to 
walk  upon  and  climb  amongst  the  rocks.  When,  however, 
the  summer  is  nearing  to  its  close,  they  seem  to  long  for 
their  warm  stalls,  because  the  nights  and  mornings  are 
bitterly  cold  and  early  frosts  nip  the  grass ;  so  they 
appear  delighted  to  return,  and  rush  on  with  the  same 
eagerness  the  nearer  they  approach  the  old  home,  each 
one  turning  with  joyful  haste  into  its  own  accustomed 
stall,  which  they  never  mistake. 

"When  we  had  walked  about  five  hours,  and  were 
getting  very  weary,  we  reached  the  village  of  Rein  or  St. 
Wolfgang,  standing  on  the  edge  of  a  very  watery  little 
plain  or  central  valley,  into  which  many  streams  flow. 
Here  we  turned  into  a  lesser  valley,  the  Bachenthal,  a 
perfect  paradise  of  an  Alpine  valley.  Just  then  it  began 
to  rain,  and  we  had  to  walk  along  narrow  paths,  through 
mowing  grass  full  of  flowers,  on  and  on  till,  when  it  was 
quite  dusk,  we  came  to  a  chalet  where  the  Hof-bauer's 
pachter,  a  tenant  farmer,  lives.  The  pachter,  with  his  men, 
was  at  supper  when  we  arrived ;  the  wife  was  busy  in 
the  little  kitchen  baking  cakes  to  be  eaten  hot  with  their 
milk.  If  we  had  been  comets  of  the  sky  we  could  not 


228  MARY  HOWITT.  [en.  vn. 

village,  Eocca  di  Papa,  is  the  funniest  place  you  can 
conceive.  It  is  built  up  the  face  of  a  great  rock,  house 
above  house,  looking  from  below  a  dense  mass  of  build- 
ings. The  streets  are  too  steep  for  carriages,  and  in  many 
places  a  succession  of  steps.  It  is  the  filthiest  village 
imaginable;  and  the  population,  about  three  thousand 
persons,  are  as  thick  on  the  ground  as  rabbits  in  a  warren. 
In  an  evening  they  are  all  out  in  the  streets,  so  that  you 
have  a  full  view  of  them.  They  are  a  most  Irish-looking 
population.  The  men  dress  exactly  like  Irish,  in  rough, 
coarse  bluish  coats,  breeches,  and  old  sunburnt  hats,  with 
tapering  crowns  and  slouching  brims.  The  women,  how- 
ever, are  very  different,  dressing  in  bright  colours,  red, 
lilac,  and  yellow,  with  a  square  piece  of  white  linen  on 
their  heads,  or  else  a  coloured  kerchief." 

MARY  HOWITT  TO  HER  SON  AND  DAUGHTER-IN-LAW. 

"  Dietenheim,  Tyrol,  Aug.  6,  1871. — We  had  a  great 
desire  to  go  up  to  the  Aim  or  Alp,  that  we  might  be  able 
to  understand  the  life  of  these  simple  people  thoroughly. 
The  Hof-bauer  begged  that  we  would  do  so,  and  make 
ourselves  quite  at  home  with  the  best  they  could  offer  us. 
We  accordingly  invited  Maria,  the  daughter,  to  accompany 
us.  She  is  a  tall,  buxom  young  woman  of  about  four- 
and-twenty,  full  of  good-humour,  and  was  highly  delighted 
with  the  invitation. 

"We  went  in  the  Stellwagen  to  the  village  of  Taufers ; 
and  engaging  a  man  at  the  inn  to  carry  up  our  personal 
belongings  and  our  ample  provisions,  we  set  off  on  foot 
up  a  magnificent  valley,  ever  ascending  through  ancient 
woods  of  larch  and  spruce,  and  by  the  side  of  a  tumultuous 
river  which  comes  down  from  mountains  ten  to  eleven 
thousand  feet  high.  This  steep  road,  which  no  carriage 


1871-79-]  ROME  AND  TYROL.  229 

can  ascend,  is  traversed  by  the  herds  of  cattle,  that  come 
here  in  the  early  summer  and  return  in  the  autumn,  their 
hoofs  being  able  to  find  foothold  on  the  rock ;  and  it 
is  curious  that,  so  delighted  are  the  cattle  to  go  thither 
for  the  summer  after  the  winter's  confinement  in  the 
stall,  that  they  make  the  journey  with  a  kind  of  joyful 
impatience,  going  on  still  more  eagerly  as  they  approach 
the  end ;  and  when  they  have  reached  the  accustomed 
alp,  rushing  to  the  higher  summit  as  if  they  could  not 
sufficiently  enjoy  the  luxury  of  the  change.  These  are 
the  cattle  which  have  already  been  on  the  alp,  the  new- 
comers are  often  at  first  timid,  and  have  to  learn  how  to 
walk  upon  and  climb  amongst  the  rocks.  When,  however, 
the  summer  is  nearing  to  its  close,  they  seem  to  long  for 
their  warm  stalls,  because  the  nights  and  mornings  are 
bitterly  cold  and  early  frosts  nip  the  grass ;  so  they 
appear  delighted  to  return,  and  rush  on  with  the  same 
eagerness  the  nearer  they  approach  the  old  home,  each 
one  turning  with  joyful  haste  into  its  own  accustomed 
stall,  which  they  never  mistake. 

"  When  we  had  walked  about  five  hours,  and  were 
getting  very  weary,  we  reached  the  village  of  Rein  or  St. 
Wolfgang,  standing  on  the  edge  of  a  very  watery  little 
plain  or  central  valley,  into  which  many  streams  flow. 
Here  we  turned  into  a  lesser  valley,  the  Bachenthal,  a 
perfect  paradise  of  an  Alpine  valley.  Just  then  it  began 
to  rain,  and  we  had  to  walk  along  narrow  paths,  through 
mowing  grass  full  of  flowers,  on  and  on  till,  when  it  was 
quite  dusk,  we  came  to  a  chalet  where  the  Hof-bauer's 
pachter,  a  tenant  farmer,  lives.  The  pachter,  with  his  men, 
was  at  supper  when  we  arrived ;  the  wife  was  busy  in 
the  little  kitchen  baking  cakes  to  be  eaten  hot  with  their 
milk.  If  we  had  been  comets  of  the  sky  we  could  not 


230  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  vn. 

have  made  much  more  excitement  among  them.  What 
was  to  be  done  with  these  new-comers,  these  outlandish 
people  \  But  Maria  set  all  right.  In  the  room  where  the 
men  were  at  supper  we  had,  later,  our  evening  meal,  one 
of  these  men  meantime  hastening  off  for  Jakob  Mutsch- 
lechner,  Maria's  youngest  brother,  who  was  higher  up  the 
mountain,  at  the  senner  huts.  The  farmer's  two  children — 
lads  of  about  eight  and  ten— crept  to  the  top  of  the  big 
stove  and  looked  on  with  wonder  as  we  ate  our  supper. 
When  it  was  about  half  over,  Jakob,  in  his  shirt-sleeves 
and  his  jacket  loosely  thrown  over  his  shoulder,  made  his 
appearance.  He  is  a  perfect  gentleman  in  manners,  and 
made  us  right  welcome. 

"  We  slept  in  the  barn,  which  was  half-full  of  new  hay, 
sweet  and  clean  ;  and  were  speedily  wakened  by  a  storm 
of  thunder  and  lightning,  deluging  rain,  and  a  wild  wind 
that  seemed  as  if  it  would  tear  off  the  very  roof.  Here  was  a 
prospect  for  us  !  The  thunder  and  lightning  passed  over, 
but  the  rain  continued.  No  matter,  we  would  lie  in  the 
hay  till  it  was  fine.  In  the  morning  Maria  brought  us 
coffee  in  a  brown  earthenware  pot,  and  hot  milk  in  a  brown, 
broad,  open  dish,  from  the  house  through  the  rain.  We 
sat  in  the  hay,  and  made  a  capital  and  very  merry  breakfast. 
By  eleven,  the  rain  having  ceased,  we  set  off  for  the  senner 
huts.  Again  it  was  ever  ascending,  as  if  into  the  very 
bosom  of  the  great  snow-covered  mountains,  through  a 
region  of  rocks  and  woods,  with  intervals  of  the  greenest, 
finest  pasture.  Presently  the  woods  opened,  and  standing 
upon  a  wild,  stony  hillside,  the  magnificent  mountains 
shutting  it  in  on  all  hands,  we  came  upon  a  group  of  senner 
huts,  which  delighted  your  father,  as  they  bore  a  striking 
resemblance  to  a  rich  Australian  station.  There  were,  I 
think,  fourteen  separate  buildings,  all  of  wood,  in  the 


1871-79-]  ROME  AND  TYROL.  231 

picturesque  Tyrolean  style ;  five  were  dwellings,  and  the 
rest  cattle-sheds  and  barns.  Our  people's  huts  were  the 
highest  of  all,  and  we  had  a  long  climb  over  rocks  before 
we  reached  them,  Jakob  coming  down  to  meet  and  bid  us 
welcome.  He  and  good  old  Franz,  the  senner,  occupied 
one  hut,  half  of  which  was  the  dairy,  where  stood  pans  of 
rich  milk  and  cream.  Jakob  is  the  herdsman  ;  he  has  to 
count  up  the  cattle  daily  and  bring  them  in ;  the  oxen, 
however,  of  which  there  are  seven  yoke,  lie  out  all  the 
night.  Franz  is  dairyman. 

"  No  sooner  had  we  arrived  than  the  latter  appeared  with 
a  frying-pan,  and  having  taken  the  thick  cream  from  five 
pans  of  milk,  proceeded  to  make  cream-pancakes,  which 
proved  to  be  a  most  dainty  dish,  although  made  over  a 
fire  of  logs  in  the  kitchen,  where  there  was  no  chimney, 
the  smoke  issuing  through  long  slits  in  the  wall.  Your 
father  and  I  sat  on  wooden  stools  and  watched  the  cooking 
process,  he  interesting  the  old  senner  and  Jakob  by  stories 
of  Australian  life  and  travel,  which  the  present  scenes 
brought  back  livingly  and  pleasantly  to  his  mind.  In  the 
meantime  the  two  Margarets  had  set  to  work  at  a  cold 
collation  in  the  dairy.  But  I  assure  you  the  cream-pan- 
cakes were  better  than  anything  we  had  taken  with  us. 
Besides,  it  was  the  right  dish  to  eat  in  a  senner  hut ;  and 
in  return  we  gave  these  mountaineers  of  our  ham  and  cold 
fowl  and  almond-cake,  which  were  as  great  luxuries  to 
them. 

"  After  our  dinner  Jakob  went  to  attend  to  his  herds- 
man's duties.  Franz,  a  right  good  old  Tyroler,  who  has 
been  many  years  in  the  service  of  this  family,  and  who, 
in  his  old  leathern  breeches  and  bare  knees,  his  Tyrolese 
hat,  green  waistcoat,  and  broad  leathern  belt,  is  a  right 
pleasant  sight  to  see,  had  no  sooner  cleaned  and  washed 


23  2  MAKY  HO  WITT.  [CH.  vn. 

his  frying-pan  at  the  long  trough  made  of  a  hollowed  tree- 
trunk,  which  holds  a  supply  of  the  finest  running  water, 
than  he  was  at  our  service.  We  wanted  to  go  up  to  the 
glacier,  which  we  imagined  (as  it  looked  now  so  near  to 
us,  lying  in  the  bosom  of  the  great  Hochgall,  ten  thou- 
sand feet  high)  to  be  within  a  walk ;  but  it  proved  to  be 
at  some  hours'  distance,  and  thus  unattainable.  However, 
Franz  took  us  to  the  wild  waterfall  formed  by  the  torrent 
which  comes  down  from  the  glacier ;  and  never  in  my  life 
do  I  expect  again  to  have  a  walk  through  such  scenery,  so 
wild  and  chaotic ;  through  such  old,  old  woods  where  the 
giant  trees  stand  up,  scathed  and  bleached  by  lightning 
and  storm,  like  towers,  or  lie  tumbled  in  the  wildest, 
dreariest  confusion,  amongst  giant  rocks,  like  the  remains 
of  some  old  world.  I  thought  what  English  word  expressed 
the  character  of  this  scenery.  I  could  only  think  of  chaotic 
desolation :  the  German  word  schauderhaft  gives  some 
idea  of  it.  Through  such  scenery  we  went  till  we  reached 
the  wild,  foaming  water  which  came  down  from  the  glacier, 
and  crossing  this  by  an  Alpine  bridge,  we  found  ourselves 
in  a  lovely  green  pasture,  scattered  over  with  rocks,  run- 
ning into  lofty  mounds  and  sinking  into  fairy-like  glens, 
out  of  which  rose  lofty  fir-trees  of  the  finest  growth; 
and  all  round  rose  up  the  craggy  mountains,  and  high 
above  the  cold,  icy  glacier. 

"We  reached  the  senner  hut  about  five  o'clock,  had 
a  right  pleasant  tea,  and  so  back  to  our  hay-barn.  It 
was  a  calm,  still  night,  and  in  the  early  dawn  we  heard 
the  pdchter  '  denzelling '  his  scythe — that  is,  beating 
the  edge  fine  on  a  little  iron  anvil,  a  work  which  the 
mower  does  each  morning  preparatory  to  his  day's  work. 
By  this  it  was  evident  that  the  morning  was  fine ;  and 
by  six  o'clock  the  sun  shone  through  the  chinks  in  the 


1871-79-]  ROME  AND  TYROL.  233 

wooden  walls,  and  looking  through  the  door,  I  saw  the 
little  goat-herd  and  the  goats  ascending  the  craggy  rocks 
which  directly  faced  the  barn.  Your  father  had  been 
out  for  a  walk,  and  came  in  to  breakfast  with  flowers 
stuck  in  his  hat  Tyrolean  fashion.  He  had  been  out 
gathering  them  and  reading  his  Eoman  newspaper,  which 
comes  to  him  every  day.  Again  we  visited  the  senner 
huts  ;  and  the  following  morning  set  off  on  our  home- 
ward way.  The  descent  seemed  to  us  quite  as  fatigu- 
ing as  the  climb,  perhaps  even  more  so,  because,  the 
road  being  flagged  with  rude  stones,  we  came  down  by 
irregular  steps." 

"  Via  Sistina,  Rome,  Nov.  3,  1871. — October  in  Tyrol 
was  a  season  of  pastoral  festivity,  when  the  cattle  re- 
turned from  their  various  alps  or  summer  pastures,  with 
their  barbaric  crowns,  embroidered  neck-belts,  bells,  and 
garlands — the  roads  being  filled  with  these  sleek,  well- 
fed  herds,  with  the  lesser  flocks  of  goats  and  sheep,  like 
the  migrating  wealth  of  the  ancient  patriarchs.  On 
they  came  proudly,  the  very  cattle  conscious  of  their 
own  dignity  and  worth,  attended  by  the  no  less  con- 
scious senner  and  his  subordinates,  all  in  their  Sunday 
best,  and  hats  decorated  with  mountain  flowers.  A  truly 
Idyllic  show  of  cattle  slowly  passing  through  villages 
to  their  home-pastures. 

"  '  A  Roma ! '  It  was  very  pleasant  to  make  this  reply 
to  the  hurrying  porter,  who,  snatching  up  an  armful  of 
our  numerous  smaller  impedimenta  at  the  crowded  railway 
station  of  Florence,  demanded  whither  we  were  bound. 
It  was  fourteen  days  since  we  left  the  happy  Tyrol. 
We  had  travelled  leisurely,  visiting  Padua  and  Bologna ; 
and  had  lastly  lingered  for  eight  days  among  the  art 


234 


MARY  HO  WITT.  [CH.  vn. 


treasures  and  the  kindly  people  of  Florence.  'If  you 
are  for  Home,  make  haste  and  secure  your  places !  ' 
said  a  friendly  voice,  'for  the  crowd  which  is  going 
is  immense.' 

"  So  it  was.  A  detachment  of  the  thirty  thousand 
Government  officials,  high  and  low,  and  their  families, 
whose  exodus  from  Florence  to  Rome  has  left  so  many 
houses  vacant  in  the  one  city,  and  elated  the  hearts 
and  whetted  the  cupidity  of  landlords  in  the  other,  was 
unquestionably  on  the  move  this  morning.  Thus  two 
unusually  crowded  trains  arrived  at  Rome  from  Florence 
at  the  same  moment,  we  of  the  express,  and  the  ordi- 
nary train,  which  had  preceded  us  from  Florence  by  two 
or  three  hours,  and  both  bringing  in  such  crowds  of 
people,  with  interminable  piles  of  luggage,  that  it  was 
nearly  an  hour  before  we  could  receive  our  own  and 
depart. 

"  Rome  is  indeed  becoming  a  busy  and  a  populous 
city ;  and  our  friends,  as  we  proceeded  homeward,  gave 
us  to  understand  the  almost  impossibility  which  it  had 
appeared  a  week  ago  that  quarters  could  be  found  for 
us.  New  streets  were  being  laid  out,  and  new  houses 
had  been  built ;  but  who  that  knew  their  date  would 
venture  into  them  this  first  season?  Margaret  Foley 
had,  however,  found  a  cosy  little  home  for  us  in  the 
Via  Sistina." 

To  MRS.  ALFRED  WATTS. 

"Nov.  5,  1871.— Oh!  if  only  Alfred  and  you  were 
here  I  should  be  ready  to  say,  'Let  Henry  Chorley's 
words  about  us  be  true.  Let  us  all  live  out  our  lives  in 
this  kindly  and  beautiful  Italy,  to  which  surely  God  has 
given  all  the  charms  of  the  earth.'  As  it  is,  however, 


1871-79-]  ROME  AND  TYROL.  235 

I  feel  at  times  as  if  even  gloomy  England,  with  its  drab 
atmosphere,  would  be  pleasanter  if  one  could  only  sit 
down  by  the  fireside  with  you.  But  we  will  leave  all 
to  God,  for  He  will  do  that  which  is  best  for  each  of 
us  ;  and  we  do  not  know,  any  one  of  us,  what  He  designs 
by  us  or  what  He  has  in  store  for  us.  Please  give  my 
affectionate  regards  to  Henry  Chorley  when  you  see  him 
next ;  and  you  can  tell  him,  if  you  like,  that  though  I 
hold  much  of  the  old  Catholic  faith,  and  though  I  am 
convinced  that  within  the  walls  of  many  convents  many 
souls  live  in  close  communion  with  God,  yet  no  one 
believes  more  firmly  than  I  do  in  the  anti-Christianity  of 
the  Papacy,  and  that  we  are  watching  with  the  intensest 
interest  the  progress  of  events,  which  will,  we  trust,  bring 
about  its  downfall. 

"  I  must  now  give  you  an  idea,  if  I  can,  of  our  locality. 
Looking  up  the  street,  the  piazza  of  the  Trinit^  de'  Monte 
immediately  opens  out  before  us,  with  the  distant  heights 
of  Monte  Mario,  where  the  sun  now  sets,  and  the  evening 
skies  are  beautiful.  Just  opposite  to  us  is  the  old  palace 
of  some  Queen  of  Poland,  a  rather  dingy-looking  place, 
with  traces  of  grandeur  about  it.  It  forms  the  division 
between  the  Via  Sistina  and  the  Via  Gregoriana,  which 
unite  in  the  piazza.  Grand  old  painters  have  lived  about 
here — Poussin,  Claude  Lorraine,  Salvator  Eosa.  The  old 
house  of  the  Queen  of  Poland  was  built  by  the  artists 
Taddeo  and  Federigo  Zuccaro ;  and  when  Bartholdy, 
the  Prussian  Consul,  lived  in  it,  he  employed  Overbeck, 
Schadow,  Veit,  and  Cornelius  to  cover  the  walls  of  an 
upper  chamber  with  frescoes  from  the  life  of  Joseph. 
These  art-brethren  of  St.  Luke  also  dwelt  at  one  time 
near  here,  at  the  top  of  the  Via  St.  Isidore,  in  the  monas- 
tery of  that  name.  It  is  an  Irish  Franciscan  institution, 


236  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  vn. 

and  its  church  is  dedicated  both  to  St.  Patrick  and  St. 
Isidore.  Opposite  to  the  monastery  of  St.  Isidore  is  the 
little  church  of  Maria  Riparatrice,  where  candles  are 
ever  burning,  and  at  all  hours  a  nun  kneels  before  the 
altar,  her  sky-blue  and  white  robes  flowing  around  her ; 
an  immovable  figure,  in  uninterrupted  prayer  or  adora- 
tion. It  is  a  wonderful  sight.  Of  course,  there  must  be 
a  relay  of  nuns  for  this  severe  service,  but  apparently 
it  is  ever  the  same— the  same  blue  and  white  flowing 
garments,  the  same  attitude." 

"Jan.  25,  1872. — We  have  been  to  the  Hotel 
d'Angleterre,  to  meet,  at  the  invitation  of  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Betts,  Dr.  Manning  and  Dr.  Davis  of  the  Religious 
Tract  Society.  They  received  us  most  kindly,  Dr. 
Manning  explaining  that  his  mother  was,  in  the  very 
ancient  Uttoxeter  days,  a  schoolfellow  of  mine,  Mary 
Bakewell,  and  that  she  often  spoke  of  me  as  'little 
Mary  Botham,  who  used  to  sit  upon  a  box  and  tell 
stories  ;  in  fact,  romances  without  end.'  Of  this  romanc- 
ing I  know  nothing ;  though,  from  our  dear  father  being 
anxious  that  we  should  have  'a  guarded  education,' 
Anna  and  I  did  sit  on  a  big  box  near  Mrs.  Parker,  and 
the  other  children  generally  on  seats  in  the  room.  Of 
course,  I  remember  Mary  Bakewell ;  she  was  a  big  girl 
and  very  nice,  one  whom  I  admired,  and  of  whom  I 
retain  a  most  distinct  and  pleasant  remembrance.  These 
two  gentlemen  next  proceeded  to  business,  requesting 
me  from  Dr.  Macaulay  to  furnish  a  series  of  papers  on 
Italy  to  the  Leisure  Hour. 

"  Yesterday  afternoon  Meggie  and  I  drank  coffee  with 
Frau  Hoffmann — such  excellent  coffee,  that  we  smelt 
it  before  we  reached  the  door ;  such  delicious  little  cakes 


1871-79-]  ROME  AND  TYROL.  237 

and  bread,  cold  water,  and  fine  linen.  What  a  treat 
we  had  afterwards  in  looking  over  some  of  the  multi- 
tudinous sketches  and  studies  of  Overbeck !  Such  ex- 
quisite bits  of  drapery,  flowers,  and  foliage,  drawn  in 
pencil,  just  like  yours,  with  such  conscientious  care  and 
love — hundreds  of  them.  It  was  a  real  feast  of  delight, 
and  she  so  old-fashioned,  living  only  in  the  memory  of 
that  '  lieber  Vater*  and  wishing  that  Carluccio  (her 
•son  Carl)  would  but  work  as  hard  as  his  grandfather. 
It  poured  with  rain,  but  we  sat  with  the  window  open, 
looking  into  the  grand  old  Barberini  gardens,  with  a 
great  plaster-group  of  the  Saviour  blessing  St.  John, 
almost  filling  up  the  room  behind  us  ;  and  after  the 
coffee-tray  was  removed,  the  table  was  covered  with 
these  studies  and  sketches  of  the  blessed  Overbeck." 

"Jan.  29. — Mr.  and  Mrs,  Edward  Flower,  of  Strat- 
ford-on-Avon,  are  now  in  Rome.  He  is  a  grand  old 
man,  with  the  head  of  a  Jupiter,  very  philanthropic,  and 
most  humane  to  horses,  being  the  most  determined  foe 
of  the  bearing-rein.  With  his  cheerful  wife  I  have 
been  drawn  into  a  pleasant  bond  of  fellowship  from  her 
connection  with  the  Society  of  Friends. 

"  Yesterday  Mr.  Flower  invited  Meggie  and  me  to  drive 
with  him  and  his  niece  to  vespers  at  St.  Peter's.  It 
was  a  long  time  since  we  had  been  there,  and  we  enjoyed 
it  greatly.  We  sat  in  the  choir  chapel  and  heard  the 
beautiful  music.  Then  we  drove,  like  any  other  worldly 
people,  to  the  Pincio,  following  the  King's  carriage ;  and 
Mr.  Flower,  who  evidently  enjoys  these  things,  had  quite 
a  child's  pleasure  in  seeing  the  King,  ugly  man  though, 
he  be,  and  taking  off  his  hat  to  him ;  then,  later  on, 
meeting  Prince  Humbert,  who  at  the  first  glance  of 


238 


MARY  HOWJTT.  [CH.  vn. 


Mr.  Flower  took  off  his  hat  to  him,  and  again  a  second 
time.  At  first  Mr.  Flower  could  not  understand  these 
salutations.  Then  he  suddenly  remembered  that  the 
gentleman  driving  with  the  Prince  was  his  Master  of 
the  Horse,  to  whom,  five  years  ago,  when  Mr.  Flower 
was  last  in  Italy,  he  sold  a  splendid  horse  for  two  hun- 
dred guineas.  Some  time  afterwards,  in  Florence,  he  met 
again  this  official,  who  told  him  how  delighted  the  Prince 
was  with  the  horse,  and  that  His  Koyal  Highness  had 
given  it  the  name  of  Flower.  I  was  foolish  enough  to 
enjoy  driving  round  and  round  the  Pincio,  as  the  rest 
of  the  world  did,  till  the  sun  had  sunk  behind  St.  Peter's, 
and  warned  the  invalid  Mr.  Flower  that  it  was  time  to 
return.  We  met  the  dear  old  father  entering  the  Pincio 
gardens,  but,  bless  his  heart !  he  never  once  looked  at 
the  gay  throng,  and  all  our  joint  efforts  to  win  a  sign 
of  recognition  from  him  were  in  vain." 

"Feb.  6,  1872. — Yesterday  Mr.  Flower  was  here,  and 
began  talking  about  Joel  Churchill,  whose  adventures 
with  the  bear,  you  may  remember,  was  one  of  your  father's 
standard  stories  to  you  when  you  were  children.  Joel 
Churchill  was  one  of  the  settlers  in  America  with  Morris 
Birkbeck  and  Benjamin  Flower,  the  father  of  our  friend, 
who  himself  ran  wild  in  the  woods  till  he  was  nine- 
teen, full  of  health  and  strength  and  all  kinds  of  prac- 
tical knowledge.  By  his  own  wish  he,  at  that  age, 
returned  to  England,  for  he  remembered  a  little  girl, 
with  whom  he  had  played  when  a  child,  and  as  he 
grew  to  man's  estate  he  knew  that  he  loved  her.  I 
never  heard  a  more  beautiful  story  than  Mr.  Flower's. 
He  married  the  little  girl  he  loved,  and  became  a 
very  prosperous  and  wealthy  man.  Two-and-twenty 


1871-79-]  ROME  AND  TYROL.  239 

years  later  he  paid  a  visit  to  the  old  backwoods'  settle- 
ment, which  then  had  grown  into  vast  prosperity ;  and 
there  still  was  Joel  Churchill,  living  on  the  outskirts 
of  civilisation,  in  his  bed,  shaking  with  an  ague  fit,  and 
his  door  guarded  by  a  bear,  which  he  had  taken  young 
and  trained  as  his  watch-dog.  Mr.  Flower  says  that 
Thackeray  used  to  come  to  him  often  for  these  old 
stories.  They  both  belonged  to  the  Reform  Club,  and 
if  Thackeray  could  get  him  into  a  corner,  he  would 
beg  him  to  relate  something  about  that  wild  fresh  life 
of  the  Far  West.  After  his  return  from  America  as  a 
youth,  he  was  much  with  his  cousins,  Sarah  Flower  and 
her  sister,  and  fully  appreciates  their  memory." 

"  March  3,  1872. — One  of  the  most  interesting  features 
here,  to  our  mind,  is  the  Scandinavian  Society,  compris- 
ing Swedes,  Danes,  Norwegians,  and  Finns.  None  of 
them  are  rich,  the  sculptor  Jerichau  and  his  noted  wife, 
the  painter,  being  the  most  so  ;  the  whole  style  of  these 
foreigners  is  the  purest  simplicity  combined  with  cul- 
ture and  hospitality.  Their  love  of  the  sunny  South 
is,  as  you  know,  intense.  They  are  devoted  to  art  in 
its  three  branches,  music,  painting,  and  sculpture.  They 
associate  amongst  themselves,  and  Fredrika  Bremer's 
cousin,  Mdlle.  Aline  Bremer,  from  Finland,  is  a  sort 
of  aunt  to  many  of  them.  Young  Tegne'r,  the  grandson 
of  the  great  poet,  and  called  Esaias  after  him,  belongs 
to  this  little  community  this  winter." 

MARY  HOWITT  TO  HER  HUSBAND,  THEN  IN  ENGLAND. 

"  Casa  Hoffmann-  Overbeck,  Rocca  di  Papa,  May  26, 
1872. — We  are  most  comfortable  here — could  not  be 
more  so.  All  is  so  still ;  were  it  not  that  the  great 


240 


MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  vn. 


Gothic-shaped  clock  in  our  sitting-room  has  been  set 
going.  It  reminds  me  of  some  very  self-sufficient 
country-woman  come  on  a  visit  to  you.  She  makes 
a  bustle  with  every  movement,  she  smacks  her  lips  as 
she  eats,  she  sups  her  soup  with  a  noise,  she  breathes 
loud,  and  has  a  way  of  sighing  to  herself— great  big 
sighs  that  startle  you  with  the  idea  that  something  is 
wrong;  and  when  she  has  the  least  trifle  to  say  she 
mouths  and  makes  a  great  fuss.  That  is  the  way 
with  this  clock.  I  can  never  cease  hearing  the  tick- 
tacking;  every  now  and  then  the  inside  jerks  and 
rumbles.  But  the  beginning  to  strike  is  a  thing  never 
to  be  forgotten.  Notice  is  given  ten  minutes  before 
that  it  is  about  to  begin,  and  then  it  purrs  and  buzzes, 
and  at  last  blurts  out  the  hour  in  a  way  to  frighten 
you.  It  needs  winding  up  twice  in  the  twenty-four 
hours,  and  with  this  attention,  and  if  you  can  put  up 
with  its  oddities,  it  is  not  a  bad  clock." 

"May  29,  1872. — It  is  deliciously  pleasant.  As  I 
lift  my  eyes  I  have  the  most  magnificent  view  before 
me,  Rome  lying  clear,  as  if  mapped  out  in  light.  It 
is  exquisite.  The  nightingales  never  cease  singing  or 
the  cuckoo  shouting.  Below,  on  the  slopes  of  the  hill, 
where  the  young  chestnuts  are  shooting  up  thick  and 
green  after  last  year's  charcoal-burning,  a  long  line  of 
men  and  boys  are  hoeing  their  potatoes  and  singing 
their  melancholy  songs  in  chorus.  I  love  to  hear  it. 
I  fancy  that  singing  must  come  down  from  the  time 
of  the  old  Sabines.  It  is  wonderfully  wailing  and 
pathetic. 

"  Frau  Hoffmann  went  to  Rome  on  Saturday  ;  and  on 
Sunday,  Herr  Knudsen,  the  Dane,  the  Jerichau  girls,  and 


1871-79-]  ROME  AND  TYROL.  241 

their  governess  set  off  through  the  woods  to  Albano, 
where  Alberto  Paulsen,  the  grandson  of  Thorwaldsen, 
was  to  meet  them  from  Porto  d'Anzio,  where  he  had 
been  quail-shooting.  The  Rocca  di  Papa  party  faith- 
fully promised  Mademoiselle  Gotschalk,  Knudsen's  aunt, 
to  be  back  by  eight  o'clock,  by  which  time  in  these 
southern  latitudes  it  is  quite  dark.  Most  especially 
did  she  lay  this  injunction  on  them,  as  Carl  Hoffmann, 
when  he  was  here  the  other  day,  told  her  it  was  better 
not  to  be  out  late  at  night  or  unprotected  in  the  lonely 
woods.  A  nice  dainty  supper  was  cooked  for  them 
by  '  Mamsell,'  Mademoiselle  Gotschalk's  companion,  but 
they  never  came.  Hour  after  hour  passed.  There  was 
nothing  for  it  but  for  everybody  to  go  to  bed.  The 
next  morning,  soon  after  our  breakfast,  we  heard  such 
a  tramping  upstairs  and  such  a  talking.  Soon  after 
Mademoiselle  Gotschalk  came  into  our  room  to  relate 
the  yesterday's  adventures.  Young  Paulsen  had  driven 
from  Porto  d'Anzio,  accompanied  by  a  gendarme  who 
had  been  ill  of  fever  and  recently  bled.  In  the  midst 
of  the  woods  they  had  been  attacked  by  brigands,  who 
took  from  Paulsen  two  hundred  and  fifty  lire  and  his 
gun.  There  was  no  use  making  any  resistance,  because 
the  gendarme  was  frightened  out  of  his  wits  and  as 
white  as  a  ghost.  On  reaching  Albano,  Paulsen  was 
met  by  the  Jerichau  girls  and  young  Knudsen  ;  and  was 
there  not  an  excitement !  They  went  to  the  police- 
station,  and  attended  by  five  carbineers  they  all  set 
off  along  the  road  to  Porto  d'Anzio  to  call  at  every 
wayside  osteria  and  give  notice,  so  that,  if  possible, 
the  culprits  might  be  detected.  They  returned  to 
Albano  late  at  night.  The  gentlemen  went  off  to 

Eome   early  the  next  morning,   and   the  girls  brought 
VOL.  n.  Q 


242 


MAKY  HOWITT.  [CH.  vn. 


here  the  strange  news.  Later  we  saw  Sophie,  the 
youngest  of  the  Jerichaus,  who  is  about  eleven,  swing- 
ing;  and  she  shouted  to  us,  'May  I  come  in  and 
tell  you  about  the  robbers  ? '  She  is  a  charming  girl, 
full  of  health,  strength,  and  character  ;  fresh,  bright,  and 
genuine.  She  is  just  such  a  child  as  George  MacDonald 
would  delight  in  describing.  She  was,  you  may  believe, 
in  a  great  state  of  excitement  about  these  bandits.  It 
was  such  an  adventure  to  her." 

MARY  HOWITT  TO  HER  ELDER  DAUGHTER. 

"55  Via  Sistina,  Rome,  New  Year's  Day,  1873  — 
We  have  celebrated  the  day  by  driving  to  the  Ponte 
Nomentana,  and  there  leaving  the  carriage,  strolled  on 
the  Campagna  and  gathered  flowers — large  staring 
daisies  and  a  bright  little  purple  geranium.  Your 
father  gladdened  his  eyes  with  the  flocks  of  larks  that 
kept  rising  before  us  merrily  twittering,  but  not  yet  sing- 
ing, and  with  the  flocks  of  sheep  which  grazed  here 
and  there,  watched  by  the  shepherds  and  their  dogs." 

"Jan.  22,  1873. — We  are  so  interested  in  '  Ginx's 
Baby.'  How  clever  it  is !  What  a  satire  it  is  on  the 
religion,  legislation,  and  philanthropy  of  the  age  !  God 
help  us  all,  and  send  us  a  revelation  of  the  true  light ! 
Something  stronger  than  the  Gospels  and  the  Gospel- 
promises,  and  more  tangible.  I  thought  at  one  time 
that  spiritualism  was  going  to  give  us  this ;  but  it  has 
so  much  shoddy  and  humbug  about  it,  that  even  such 
as  we,  who  believe  in  it,  reject  its  outer  seeming.  Yet 
perhaps  its  very  ugliness  and  seeming  untruths  are  but, 
as  it  were,  the  manger-birth  of  the  Saviour,  a  stumbling- 
block  and  an  offence.  You  see,  '  Ginx's  Baby '  has 


1871-79-]  ROME  AND  TYROL.  243 

set  me  thinking.  I  look  all  round,  and  I  perceive  that 
everything  is  wrong,  all  out  of  joint,  with  an  attempt, 
or  it  may  be  a  pretence,  to  get  right,  and  no  good  comes 
of  it  ?  The  evil  is  so  mighty,  who  is  able  to  stand  in 
the  combat  against  it.  The  ghost  of  our  Journal  is 
called  up  before  me.  We  got  wrong ;  I  see  that  as 
plainly  as  possible ;  but  then  there  are  so  many  things 
that  make  the  best-intentioned  get  wrong,  and  that 
nothing  sooner  than  a  great  success.  God  help  the 
world !  It  is  made  up  of  poor  creatures.  Even  the 
rich  and  powerful  cannot  stand  firm  against  the  temp- 
tations of  riches  and  power." 

"March  3,  1873. — There  are  so  many  sides  to  Truth, 
if  people  would  only  look  at  them.  I  am  reading  the 
'Life  of  Pere  Besson,'  that  good,  pure-lived  Dominican 
artist.  What  a  beautiful  revelation  it  is  of  the  higher 
class  of  the  Catholic  priesthood !  No  George  Fox  or 
John  Wesley,  no  George  Herbert  or  Jeremy  Taylor,  no 
Bunyan  or  Baxter,  were  any  of  them  purer,  truer,  or  more 
faithful  followers  of  Christ.  There  are  thousands  of 
noble  Christian  Catholics.  If  it  were  not  so,  the  Roman 
Catholic  faith  could  not  have  survived  to  this  day.  If 
the  Protestantism  which  is  now  being  introduced  into 
Rome  by  the  sects  were  mild,  tender,  and  loving  as  the 
Spirit  of  Christ,  it  might  worthily  replace  the  evil  it 
seeks  to  uproot ;  but  the  spirit  of  these  little  conventicles 
is,  in  my  humble  opinion,  not  what  God  will  give  the 
success  of  reformation  and  regeneration  to.  In  the  Pro- 
testant Episcopalian  churches  here,  there  is  so  evident 
an  imitation  of  the  outward  ceremony  of  the  Church  of 
Rome,  the  officiating  ministers  calling  themselves  priests, 
that  it  seems  to  me  offensive.  I  suppose  the  educational 


244 


MAEY  HOWITT.  [CH.  vn. 


bias  is  strong  in  me;  and  though  I  love  whatever  is 
beautiful,  and  am  sure  that  the  beautiful  belongs  to 
Heaven,  yet  the  more  devotional  part  of  my  being  is 
called  forth  by  a  simpler  style  of  worship.  Yesterday, 
however,  I  went  to  the  English  Chapel  to  hear  the 
Archbishop  of  Dublin  (Trench)  preach,  and  saw  Emerson 
there.  He  has  been,  with  his  daughter,  .up  the  Nile. 
This  evening  we  are  to  meet  them  at  Miss  Clarke's. 

"  Did  I  tell  you  that  Sir  William  Fitz-Herbert  and  his 
daughter  are  here  ?  She  is  no  longer  the  child,  but  the 
young  woman.  It  reminds  us  of  the  flight  of  time,  and 
how  many  of  the  kind  and  intelligent  hearts  that  wel- 
comed us  at  Tissington  have  ceased  to  beat.  It  casts 
a  sad  charm  around  that  stately  and  retired  home." 

"  Rocca  di  Papa,  May  20,  1873. — Dear  old  father 
has  sent  you  a  half-comic  but  very  hideous  picture  of 
this  mountain  town,  which  is  baptized  in  Papacy,  and 
has  been  for  many  hundreds  of  years.  We  must,  how- 
ever, have  patience  writh  these  poor,  dirty  beggars ;  the 
Catholics  believe  they  open  a  door  for  us  to  Heaven 
by  giving  us  an  opportunity  of  relieving  them.  Rocca 
di  Papa  is  nevertheless  a  most  enjoyable  place,  and  in 
the  Overbeck  house  we  have  spacious  rooms,  and  plenty 
of  them,  good  air,  and  glorious  views.  Jonas  Lie,  the 
Norwegian  author,  and  his  family  arrive  to-day.  They 
are  to  have  the  storey  below  us,  as  they  had  last  year." 

"May  24,  1873.— I  must  tell  you  about  Ernesto,  the 
'Maestro  di  casa,'  as  Carl  Hoffmann  called  him  the 
first  year  we  were  here.  He  is  our  little  running  foot- 
man, coming  daily  to  clean  the  boots  and  do  odd  jobs, 
and  is  as  sharp  as  a  needle  with  two  points.  He  is  work- 


1871-79-]  ROME  AND  TYROL.  245 

ing  out  four  lire  which  will  be  paid  to-morrow  for  a  pair 
of  boots  for  him.  He  wears  an  old  brown  felt  hat, 
which  is  so  big  that  it  is  either  over  his  nose  or  at  the 
back  of  his  head,  so  that  his  shoulders  may  hold  it  on. 
Last  year  Margaret  and  I  determined  he  should  go  to 
school.  But  nothing  would  persuade  him  to  attend  the 
new  municipal  school,  established  by  Government.  He 
would  not  go  even  to  please  us,  saying,  'Nothing  that 
was  good  was  taught,  but  a  great  deal  that  was  wicked. 
However,  he  could  learn  to  read,'  he  added,  '  for  a  soldo 
(halfpenny)  a  week  ;  and  a  big  lad,  a  friend  of  his,  would 
teach  him  to  write.  The  man  who  would  teach  him 
lived  almost  at  the  topmost  house  in  the  village.' 

"Thither,  escorted  by  Ernesto,  we  went,  up  and  up 
the  black  rock-stairs  of  the  village,  over  the  very  house- 
roofs  and  chimneys,  as  it  were — such  a  climb ! — to  a  sort 
of  rock-terrace,  where  a  man  of  about  forty  was  making 
wooden  hay-forks.  He  was  the  good  friend  who  would 
teach  him  to  read.  The  wife  brought  us  out  chairs,  and 
we  sat  down.  The  man  was  quite  willing  to  undertake 
the  task  of  instruction.  He  reprobated  strongly  the 
municipal  school,  which  '  had  no  better  way  of  teaching 
a  child  his  letters  than  by  having  them  painted  on  a  wall 
and  pointing  them  out  with  a  stick.  He  knew  better, 
and  should  teach  Ernesto  from  the  book/  We  asked 
him,  would  he  be  kind  enough  to  read  us  something 
from  his  book.  *  Certainly,'  he  said,  and  went  into  the 
house  and  brought  out  a  big  old  Dictionary.  '  Had  he 
no  reading-book?'  we  asked.  'Certainly.'  Then  he 
brought  out  a  book  of  devotion,  and  calling  Ernesto  to 
him,  desired  him  to  spell  the  first  word — a  long  word,  of 
which  the  lad  knew  hardly  half  the  letters.  So  we  saw 
what  Ernesto  could  do,  or  rather  could  not  do.  Then 


246  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  vn. 

the  man  himself  read  a  few  lines.  There  was  no  doubt 
but  that  he  could  read.  As  to  his  teaching,  or  rather 
Ernesto  learning,  that  remains  doubtful.  However,  the 
lad  protests  that  he  goes  up  every  evening  and  has  a 
lesson." 

"June  22. — Yesterday  morning  I  took  my  camp-stool 
into  the  little  wood  to  finish  a  shirt  for  Ernesto.  Pre- 
sently the  church-bells  sounded  the  'Angelus,'  and  I 
thought  of  all  our  mercies  with  a  grateful  heart,  and 
longed  to  become  very  dutiful  to  our  Father  in  Heaven. 
Then  I  heard  good  Madame  Borch,  the  Norwegian,  with 
her  sweet  musical  voice,  give  a  peculiar  call  through 
her  window  down  to  the  studio  below,  where  her 
husband,  the  sculptor,  was  at  work,  to  intimate  to  him 
that  dinner  was  ready.  I  stitched  away  at  my  poor 
Ernesto's  shirt,  and  towards  one  o'clock  I  knew  that  the 
Borchs  had  finished  their  dinner,  for  I  heard  the  lovely 
voice  of  the  wife  singing  in  their  small  kitchen,  which 
adjoins  their  one  room,  as  she  washed  up  the  dishes  and 
put  the  things  by.  This  is  nothing  to  tell,  but  to  me  it 
was  a  pleasant  little  idyll.  Then  your  father  strolled 
down  with  his  white  umbrella,  sat  down  on  the  flowery 
grass,  and  talked  pleasantly.  Before  long  we  saw  Meg's 
figure  on  the  balcony  looking  through  Mr.  Carl's  tele- 
scope, which  he  has  fixed  for  our  use.  Next  we  heard 
her  give  a  signal  for  us.  Our  dinner  was  now  ready. 
I  had  just  about  finished  the  shirt.  Such  a  nice  little 
shirt,  with  plaits  laid  down  the  front  like  a  gentle- 
man's. In  the  evening  the  ecstatic  Ernesto  received 
it,  and  never,  surely,  did  you  see  such  a  face  of  joy. 
He  is  now  learning  English,  so  he  said  very  properly, 
'  Thank  you,  ma'am ; '  and  to-day  he  does  not  wear  his 


1871-79-]  ROME  AND  TYROL.  247 

waistcoat,    that   all   the   world    of   Rocca   may    see   his 
splendid  new  shirt." 

"55  Via  Sistina,  Jan.  4,  1874. — This  is  the  first 
time  that  I  have  written  '74,  for  though  I  sent  you  a 
scrap  on  New  Year's  Day,  I  did  not  date  it ;  and  since 
then  I  have  written  no  letters,  though  I  have  several  yet 
on  my  conscience,  and  also  on  my  heart ;  as  I  have  been 
trying  these  last  two  days  to  put  dear,  good  Mrs.  Gould's 
annual  report  of  her  schools  for  poor  Italian  children 
into  a  nice  form,  to  wind  up  with  a  graceful  'begging 
clause,'  which  I  find  very  hard  work,  and  got  so  dis- 
gusted with  it  yesterday  afternoon,  that  I  laid  it  aside 
till  to-morrow,  when  it  must  be  done." 

"Jan.  6. — There  is  to  be  an  entertainment  at  the 
Marionette  Theatre  for  the  benefit  of  the  Creche.  The 
dear  old  father  takes  a  great  interest  in  this  proposed 
diversion,  and  has  bestowed  tickets  on  several  individuals, 
to  whom  the  attention  has  been  a  real  kindness,  as  it 
has  brought  a  ray  of  gladness  into  their  poor  solitary 
lives.  Our  own  treat  will  be  to  take  with  us  the  dear, 
bright,  simple-hearted  children  of  the  novelist,  Jonas  Lie, 
and  his  sweet  little  wife  Thomasine. 

"  Yesterday  afternoon,  when  I  had  finished,  to  my  no 
small  relief,  the  report  of  her  school  for  Mrs.  Gould,  I 
put  on  my  best  bonnet  and  best  gloves,  and  set  off  in 
the  first  instance  to  call  on  those  two  excellent  and 
agreeable  women,  Dr.  Elizabeth  Blackwell  and  her  sister. 
From  them  I  went  to  Miss  Brewster's  afternoon  recep- 
tion ;  went  in  at  the  lower  door  of  the  Palazzo  Albani,  past 
the  old  fountain  with  the  Gorgon's  head  grinning  above 
it,  up  a  winding  staircase  till  I  came  to  a  door,  out  of 


248  MAKY  HOWITT.  [CH.  vn. 

which  velvet-clad,  perfumed  ladies  were  coming ;  and  so 
in  through  a  couple  of  nicely  furnished  ante-rooms  to  the 
larger  apartment,  where  she  sat,  in  black  velvet  and  an 
Indian  scarf  over  her  shoulders,  receiving  her  visitors.  I 
soon  saw  a  nice  white-headed  gentleman  of  my  acquaint- 
ance, attached  to  the  American  Embassy,  though  himself 
an  Italian.  So  we  began  to  talk — he  to  tell  me  of  the 
Roman  college  for  ladies,  which  will  be  inaugurated  to- 
day, with  an  Italian  poetess,  a  very  remarkable  woman, 
Signora  Fua  Fusinato,  at  its  head;  exactly  similar  in 
character  and  advantages  to  the  female  colleges  in  England. 
It  interested  me  greatly,  yet  not  so  much  as  to  prevent 
my  seeing  what  went  on  around. 

"  I  observed  a  gentleman  seated  before  a  pretty,  black 
Japanese  screen  near  the  fire.  I  was  wondering  who  in 
the  world  he  could  be  ;  for  his  face,  scored  with  lines  and 
markings,  had  a  great  play  of  expression,  and  he  exhibited 
a  considerable  expansion  of  white  shirt-front,  a  crimson 
silk  kerchief  tied  round  his  neck,  and  the  glitter  of  a 
heavy  gold  chain  and  of  jewellery,  when  unexpectedly 
he  was  introduced  to  me  as  '  Mr.  Miller.' 

"  ' Joaquin  Miller,'  I  instantly  replied,  understanding  at 
once  the  character  of  the  man.  Although  I  had  risen  to 
leave,  we  sat  down  together.  He  said,  '  The  first  people 
I  wanted  to  see  in  Rome  were  Howitts ;  yes,  I  wanted  to 
see  them.  I  was  taken,  when  in  London,  to  look  at  the 
house  they  had  once  inhabited  at  Highgate — a  pleasant 
house  standing  apart  from  the  road.'  Then  he  went  on 
to  tell  me  of  a  solitary  American  lady,  married  to  a 
Frenchman  in  Rome,  who  had  begged  him  to  make  her 
acquainted  with  '  Howitts.'  He  had  her  address  folded 
up  in  his  little  purse,  and  seemed  very  anxious  to  do 
her  this  service.  We  spoke  of  his  dear  friends,  the 


1871-79-]  HOME  AND  TYROL.  249 

Rossettis.  '  Dante/  he  remarked,  '  was  a  fine  fellow — a 
true  Saxon.'  He  was  much  interested  by  Home,  although 
he  confessed  ignorance  of  its  history.  The  snowy  Apen- 
nines, as  he  saw  them  from  various  points,  charmed  him 
beyond  everything  else. 

"  I  asked  where  he  was  located.  '  He  had  gone  first 
to  an  hotel/  he  replied ;  '  but  it  was  so  dear  that  he,  a 
poor  man,  could  not  stand  it,  and  he  moved  off.'  He 
would  not  reveal  his  whereabouts,  affirming  he  told  no 
one.  '  He  lived  among  the  plebeians,  had  a  room  with 
a  brick  floor,  and  a  brazier  to  warm  him.  He  cared 
nothing  for  fine  furniture,  but  he  loved  the  people.' 
'  The  Italians/  I  rejoined,'  were  a  good,  kind-hearted  race.' 
He  expressed  pleasure  in  hearing  me  say  so,  as  some  of 
his  friends  prophesied  he  would  be  stabbed  and  robbed 
of  his  rings  and  gold  chains.  I  suggested  it  might  be 
hardly  wise  to  exhibit  such  tempting  objects  to  the  very 
poor.  To  this  he  replied,  '  He  had  lived  amongst  the 
poor  and  the  so-called  wicked  without  ever  being  robbed 
of  a  cent ;  the  only  den  of  thieves  he  knew  was  hotels. 
He  had  never  locked  or  bolted  a  door  in  self-defence,  and 
should  not  do  it  in  Rome.'  Then  he  expatiated  on  his 
life  as  a  boy,  his  sorrows  and  wild  adventures — '  Poor 
father,  who  was  so  unfortunate,  and  mother,  who  was  so 
good ' — his  being  stolen  by  the  Indians,  but  never  being 
a  chief  amongst  them,  as  commonly  reported  ;  his  journeys 
in  Nebraska  and  down  the  Wabash,  with  much  more, 
giving  me  glimpses  of  a  romantic  existence,  in  keeping 
with  his  queer  flexible  countenance  and  crimson  necker- 
chief. His  first  name  is  really  Cincinnatus,  not  Joaquin." 

"Jan.  23. — We  have  Mr.  George  Mackarness,  the 
newly-chosen  Bishop  of  Argyll  and  the  Isles,  and  our 


25o  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  VTI- 

little  friend  Evelyn,  now  shot  up  into  a  young  man, 
here  in  Home.  As  the  Bishop  possesses  quite  a  rever- 
ential love  for  the  old  painter  Overbeck,  we  have  arranged 
that  he  goes  over  the  Monastery  of  St.  Isidore,  where 
Overbeck  and  his  art-brethren  led  such  poetical,  devoted, 
half-monkish  lives.  Fra  Ippolito,  a  lay-brother,  and 
himself  a  humble  artist,  equally  reveres  the  hallowed 
memory  of  Overbeck.  He  will  welcome  our  friend  and 
take  him  to  the  Superior.  Meggie  and  I  saw  last 
summer,  before  leaving  Rome,  as  much  of  the  monastery 
as  women  are  permitted  to  see.  The  Bishop  will  now 
describe  to  us  the  cells  once  occupied  by  the  band  of 
artists,  and  the  rest  of  the  sacred  interior." 

Sunday  morning. — I  have  been  to  the  English  Chapel 
to  hear  the  new  Bishop  preach.  He  took  as  his  text, 
'  Now  we  see  through  a  glass  darkly,  but  then  face  to 
face.'  The  sermon  transported  me  to  Ham,  its  exquisite 
church  and  its  village  congregation." 

"  Jan.  31,  1874. — The  excursion  planned  for  the  Bishop 
of  Argyll  and  Evelyn  to  Rocca  di  Papa  turned  out  quite 
a  success.  The  sun  shone,  the  glorious  landscape  dis- 
played all  its  manifold  charms.  Everybody  was  in  good 
spirits.  First  came  the  walk  up  Monte  Cavo,  and  the 
cordial  reception  given  Carl  Hoffmann  and  his  male  com- 
panions by  the  friendly  Passionist  monks.  Then  down 
through  the  woods  to  the  chapel  of  the  Madonna  della 
Tufa,  where  the  hermit  was  so  long  saying  prayers  for 
all  the  party,  that  they  thought  they  must  leave  him  to 
finish  by  himself.  So  down  through  the  quaint,  queer 
volcanic  village  to  Casa  Overbeck,  in  sight  of  the  most 
glorious  sunset.  Next  the  brilliant  after-glow,  gorgeous 
over  the  Mediterranean ;  and  so  across  the  Campagna  in 


1871-79-]  ROME  AND  TYROL.  251 

the  clearest,  brightest  moonlight ;  and  back  in  Rome  by 
seven  o'clock.     It  was  a  perfect  day  :  they  all  say  so." 

"  Meran,  Tyrol,  May  25,  1874. — I  wish  you  could 
have  a  peep  of  us  in  this  beautiful  place  and  in  our  most 
comfortable  quarters.  I  am  quite  amazed,  and  I  hope 
thankful  to  the  dear  Providence,  which  seems  so  con- 
stantly our  guide ;  for  if  we  had  imagined  an  ideal  place, 
we  could  not  have  found  one  more  completely  to  our 
taste  than  this.  Here  is  the  most  glorious  Tyrolean 
scenery :  lofty  mountains  with  their  snowy  heads,  and 
lower  green  mountains,  with  vineyards  clothing  them  to 
their  knees  ;  in  the  rich  valley  the  famous  little  town 
of  Meran,  formerly  the  capital  of  Tyrol,  and  near  to 
which  lies  the  most  ancient  Schloss  Tirol,  that  gives 
the  name  to  the  whole  land,  and  is  considered  almost  as 
its  palladium.  Picturesque  the  old  town  is  as  heart  can 
desire,  with  a  splendid  costume  yet  worn  by  the  men : 
green  waistcoat,  jacket  faced  with  scarlet  lapels,  black 
breeches,  and  white  stockings,  with  a  somewhat  broad- 
brimmed  hat,  with  either  scarlet  or  green  cords  wound 
round  its  somewhat  high  and  peaked  crown.  Amongst 
the  women  there  is  much  less  costume. 

"  Meran  is  one  of  the  most  frequented  spots  in  the  Tyrol 
as  a  winter  residence  for  invalids  ;  also  for  its  grape-cure 
in  the  autumn,  the  whole  district  being  one  great  vine- 
yard, and  the  grapes  of  the  finest  quality  for  eating.  The 
suburb  of  Obermais  is  full  of  the  most  elegant  villas, 
built  in  the  loveliest  style,  standing  in  the  midst  of  gar- 
dens full  of  roses — and  such  roses  ! — with  creepers  of  the 
rarest  and  most  beautiful  kinds  wreathing  the  balconies 
and  verandahs  ;  hotels  and  pensions  all  of  the  same 
character.  It  is  a  perfect  fairy-land." 


252  MARY  HO  WITT.  [CH.  vn. 

To  Miss  LEIGH  SMITH. 

" Mayr-am-Hof,  Oct.  3,  1874.— If  a  sadness  and  deso- 
lation falls  upon  the  womenkind  of  this  house  when  we 
are  gone,  so  it  was  but  a  Nemesis  by  anticipation  that 
we  all  have  been  in  a  melancholy  condition  from  the 
very  time  you  left  us.  Everything  assumed  a  garb  of 
sorrow  and  depression  ;  the  supper  that  evening  was  like 
a  funeral  feast,  and  old  Moro  groaned  under  the  table. 
Rain  came  down  from  the  sky,  and  has  continued  almost 
ever  since  ;  the  first  little  gleam  of  sunshine  being  this 
morning,  when  my  husband  and  Annie,  his  faithful 
attendant,  have  gone  out.  But  again  all  looks  grey.  You 
evidently  took  the  sunshine  with  you ;  and  I  hope  it  has 
remained  with  you,  and  that  you  have  been  able  to 
accomplish  your  visit  to  that  pleasant  Meran,  which  I 
can  never  think  of  but  as  bathed  in  golden  sunshine. 

"We  accompained  you  in  thought  on  your  journey, 
fearing,  however,  that  the  cloud  which  has  settled  down 
outwardly  and  inwardly  on  Dietenheim  might,  seeing  that 
the  moon  changed  yesterday,  extend  even  as  far  as  Bozen. 
We  will  hope  not,  and  that  the  sunshine  you  carry  with 
you,  whilst  it  forms  an  actual  sphere  of  life  and  light 
around  you,  may  have  power  even  to  influence  the 
weather  ;  and  that,  gloomy  as  the  weather  is  here  just  now, 
it  is  but  typical  of  our  state  of  mind,  which,  however,  is 
beginning  to  mend.  For  instance,  dear  Peggy  last  night 
sat  down  to  carve  her  Madonna,  after  half-an-hour's  work 
on  her  wooden  image  of  Moro,  and  covered  the  table 
with  heaps  of  chips  and  shavings,  whilst  Lizzy  put  a 
little  life  into  us  by  singing  some  of  her  old  songs ;  so  I 
think  we  are  sliding  back  into  the  comfortable  groove  of 
our  daily  life  ;  remembering  you  and  dear  Isabella  as  the 
patriarchal  families  would  remember  the  visits  of  angels, 


1871-79-]  ROME  AND  TYROL.  253 

something  to  rejoice  over  in  the  past,  and  to  look  for- 
ward to  with  joy  and  hope  in  the  future." 

To  MRS.  ALFEED  WATTS. 

"55  Via  Sistina,  Dec.  18,  1874. — Your  father  has  been 
out  again  and  again  with  the  Pattons.  What  child-like, 
sweet  people  they  are ! — she  just  the  same  as  the  Abby 
Hutchinson  of  thirty  years  ago.  We  have  had  a  talk 
with  them  about  the  negroes.  They  say,  what  I  feared 
must  be  the  case,  that  freedom  will  alter  greatly  the 
character  of  the  negroes.  They  will  now  endeavour  to 
become  like  the  whites,  and  to  forget  what  they  were  in 
bondage.  Even  of  their  songs  they  are  beginning  to  be 
ashamed ;  yet  some  of  these  I  think  most  lovely.  There  is 
one  especially  of  which  the  Marchesa  di  Torre-Arsa  spoke 
to  me  last  night  with  perfect  delight,  and  she  knows 
what  good  music  is.  I  will  try  to  get  the  exact  words, 
but  the  burden  of  it  is,  *  We  have  not  long  to  stay  here  ; 
— steal  away  to  Jesus  ! '  You  shall  have  the  words,  and 
must  imagine  the  sweet,  plaintive,  yearning  melody. 

"  Will  Garibaldi  come  to  Rome?  Strange  indeed  will 
it  be  if  the  old  walls  contain  at  the  same  time  the  Pope, 
the  King,  and  the  former  Dictator." 

"Dec.  30,  1874. — Last  evening  we  had  the  Pattons, 
and  in  the  middle  of  the  evening  our  fat  Louisa,  opening 
wide  the  drawing-room  door,  ushered  in  a  young  man  in 
a  long  cloak  and  a  black  fur  cap.  He  gave  your  father 
a  letter.  It  was  from  Daniel  Ricketson,  of  New  Bedford, 
introducing  his  son  Walton.  This  was  he,  and  we  made 
him  heartily  welcome.  There  is  something  amazingly 
fresh  and  attractive  about  him.  He  had  arrived  that 
morning.  It  was  wet,  but  no  matter.  Off  he  set  to  see 


254  MARY  HO  WITT.  [CH.  vn. 

the  wonders  of  old  Rome ;  went  to  the  Forum,  which  can 
only  be  entered  on  certain  days.  The  custodian  stopped 
him  in  his  descent.  The  man  having  a  book  in  his  hand, 
young  Ricketson  inquired  what  he  was  reading.  '  Oh  ! 
he  was  studying  English.' — '  Good,'  said  the  American. 
'  Come,  let  us  sit  down,  and  I  will  give  you  a  lesson.'  He 
taught  him  for  half-an-hour.  After  that  they  were  capital 
friends,  and  he  saw  all  there  was  to  be  seen. 

"  I  wish  you  could  have  beheld  his  astonishment  when 
the  Pattons  stood  up  side  by  side  to  sing,  before  leaving, 
some  of  their  sweet  Jubilee  hymns,  and  his  delight  to  find 
that  she  was  no  other  than  Abby  Hutchinson.  Right  glad 
was  he  to  meet  her  and  her  husband — old  abolitionists,  like 
his  father,  who  had  kept  open  the  underground  railway. 

WILLIAM  HOWITT  TO  HIS  ELDER  DAUGHTER. 

"Jan.  25,  1875. — Mrs.  Gould  is  going  to  bring  out 
a  book  written  by  different  people,  to  be  printed  at 
her  new  school-press.  Adolphus  Trollope  and  his  wife, 
and  Mr.  Marsh,  the  American  Minister  to  the  Quirinal, 
have  all  promised  contributions.  Mrs.  Marsh  hopes  to 
get  something  from  Gladstone ;  and  I  dare  say  there  will 
be  a  good  many  things  from  American  authors.  Your 
mother  is  going  to  write  an  introduction  narrating  Mrs. 
Gould's  efforts  in  Rome  to  educate  the  children  of  the 
poor.  I  have  written  my  contribution,  called  'Pro- 
gressive Steps  of  Popular  Education,  and  a  Pioneer 
Working-School,'  which  is  that  of  Captain  Brenton,  the 
martyr  of  the  juvenile  outcasts  of  London. 

"  Garibaldi  arrived  in  Rome  yesterday  afternoon.  He 
was  drawn  by  the  people  in  triumph  to  his  lodgings. 
They  were  wild  to  have  a  speech  from  him,  and  clamoured 
with  their  ten  thousand  voices.  He  came  on  the  balcony 


1871-79-]  ROME  AND  TYROL.  255 

and    simply   said,    '  Giovanotti !   Buona   notte ! '   and   so 
retired." 


MARY  HOWITT  TO  HER  ELDER  DAUGHTER. 

"  Mayr-am-Hof,  Sept.  15,  1875. — We  had  a  delightful 
excursion  to  Taufers  with  Josiah  Gilbert,  his  sister,  and 
Mrs.  Angus.  Everything  was  looking  its  best.  Mr.  Gil- 
bert knows  all  the  country,  and  had  been  there  before, 
but  he  wanted  his  companions  to  see  the  old  castle,  stand- 
ing up  grandly  with  its  background  of  glacial  mountains. 
At  the  castle,  however,  we  found  every  door  locked.  The 
people  were  all  out  at  work  in  the  fields  ;  so  we  prowled 
about,  and  finding  one  wainscoted  room  open,  with  its 
old  benches  round  the  walls,  there  sat  and  '  had  high 
discourse/  as  Mr.  Gilbert  said ;  we  talked  a  good  deal 
of  nonsense,  your  father  being  as  merry  as  the  rest. 
We  then  slowly  walked  back  again  to  the  inn,  where  our 
dinner  had  been  ordered.  In  going  up  to  the  castle  Mr. 
Gilbert  and  I  had  conversed  together ;  and  my  heart  not 
only  sympathised,  but  had  been  filled  with  joyful  thanks- 
giving that  sorrow  such  as  he  had  experienced  could  so 
beautify  and  elevate  a  life. 

"  It  was  altogether  a  season  of  friendly  intercourse  ; 
and  we  arranged  in  driving  back  how  we  were  to  wind 
up  with  a  right  pleasant  evening.  He  was  to  get  his 
sketch  of  Mayr-am-Hof  made  before  tea.  Then  at  seven 
the  zither-player  was  to  come  and  play  and  give  Mrs. 
Angus  a  lesson.  They  were  to  see  the  handsome  cow-bells 
and  crown  ;  and  go  back  to  Bruneck,  no  matter  how  late, 
by  full  moon.  So  we  had  arranged ;  but  hardly  had  we 
reached  home,  when,  behold !  a  carriage  stopped  at  the 
gate,  and  out  stepped  a  grey-bearded  man,  with  a  most 
sad  countenance.  It  was  no  other  than  poor,  broken- 


1 5 1  MART  HOW  J1TL  [at  m. 

hearted  Dr.  Gould,  come  hither  from  Perugia  to  find 
comfort  from  us  if  he  could;  his  wife  dead  only 
ten  days,  and  he  Drought  down  to  the  brink  of  the 
as  it  were.  Here  he  was,  and  whoa  he  was  not 
and  when  the  mood  of  the  whole  house  was  rejoicing! 
However,  there  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  receive  him 
kindly.  TTii  J«<l  i  aamlii  i  •  m  ••If  u ailj.  Mail  In 
IIIK i  ••••«•  of  it.  His  nerres  are  unstrung ;  he  can 
nothing  hat  his  wife,  whom  he  loved  tenderly  and 
most  proud  o£  and  by  whose  sick-bed  he  has 
nigjit  and  day  formany  months,  through  one  of  the 
awfully  agonising  maladies  that  I  ever  heard  of" 

"•  S?yt  22. — Oar  poor  guest !  How  sad  it  is  to 
aa  idol  of  any  living  thing  which  death  may  remove 
Yet  I  have  such  compassion  for  him.  I  walk  oat 
with  him,  and  let  him  talk  as  much  as  he  will  about  hoc. 
He  is  now  sitting  on  the  aam.  at  the  upper  end  of  the 
room,  reading  a  handful  of  letters.  He  often  reads 
me  these  condolences;  many  of  them  beautiful  ler 
extremely  well  written,  fit  to  print :  and  I  wonder  at 
the  number  of  well-educated  people  there  are  who  have 
the  gift  of  expressing  themselves  eloquently,  gracefully, 
and  with  so  much  deep  feeling.  I  don't  wonder  at  the 
man  weeping  over  them.  They  would  half-biwik 
my  heart,  I  verily  believe,  if  mine  were  the  sorrow 
and  mv  friends  wrote  thus  to  me."" 


-55   Fwi  SmmvJbaL  12,  1876.— What  the  fete  of 
Mrs,  Gould's  school  wiH  be  in  the  end  seems  now 
CWCKMS  maesfcMBL    I  think  vour  father  has  told  von 
the  •kJbtd  theft  and  dishonesty  of  some  of  the 
left   in  charge    of  her    school  bv  Mrs,    Gould ; 


1871-79-]  ROME  AOT  TYROL.  J57 

particularly  of  a  young  woman  whom  she  had  educated 
to  have  care  of  the  Kindergarten,  and  in  whom  she 
and  her  husband  had  great  confidence.  This  teacher 
has  most  basely  repaid  their  faith  and  trust.  She  is 
now  gone  off,  and  the  school  and  the  Home,  greatly 
diminished,  are  in  the  hands  of  a  Waldensian  minister 
and  his  wife.  They  have  taken  charge  of  the  work  for 
a  month ;  but  a  serious  difficulty  has  occurred.  One 
child,  a  boy  of  about  fourteen,  refused  to  go  to  the 
Waldensian  church,  and  left  the  Home.  This  made  a 
commotion.  He  was  a  favourite  pupil  of  poor  Mrs. 
Gould's,  and  her  husband  took  up  the  matter  warmly. 
A  public  meeting  had  been  appointed  and  invitations 
sent  out  to  everybody  interested  in  the  subject,  to 
consider  the  propriety  of  the  Home  and  school  being 
placed  in  the  hands  of  the  Waldenses.  Then  occurred 
the  bother  of  the  papal  boy  taking  himself  off,  and 
a  very  strong  party  in  consequence  showed  themselves 
in  opposition  to  the  Waldenses.  This  was  the  Maz- 
zinian  party.  Madame  Mario  and  an  Englishman,  a 
wealthy  Jew  named  Nathan,  declared  themselves  ready 
to  rescue  these  poor  children  from  the  persecuting 
hands  of  the  narrow  sectarian  Waldenses  and  make 
this  a  great  Mazzini  school  and  printing-press.  Mr. 
Trollope  appeared  at  the  meeting  as  their  advocate. 

"  Poor  Dr.  Gould  urged  us  to  attend  the  meeting, 
but  I  never  intended  to  go  ;  and  when  your  father 
heard,  the  day  before  the  meeting,  of  this  proposition, 
he  thought  it  was  much  the  best  that  he  stayed  away. 
Mrs.  Gould  was  eminently  religious ;  faith  and  love  to 
the  Saviour  and  loyalty  to  King  Victor  Emmanuel 
were  the  most  prominent  principles  inculcated.  She 
herself  was  a  member  of  the  Waldensian  Church. 

VOL.  II.  R 


258  MARY  HOWITT.  [en.  vn. 

They  are  the  only  body  likely  to  carry  on  the  institu- 
tion in  the  spirit  of  its  foundress.  This  one  obstinate 
boy  had  better  be  removed  and  restored  to  his  father 
and  the  priests,  rather  than  the  whole  work  should 
be  broken  up  on  his  account.  That  is  my  present 
feeling." 

"  Albano,  March  4,  1 876. — We  yesterday  had  a  charm- 
ing little  outing  with  Mr.  Young  of  Kelly.  We  drove 
to  Rocca  di  Papa,  and  went  up  to  the  old  Overbeck  villa, 
where  we  knew  that  Carl  Hoffmann  was  not,  but  that 
his  queer  woman-servant,  Marianna,  who  has  the  learned 
pig,  was  there  ;  and  very  welcome  she  made  us  ;  brought 
us  apples  and  walnuts,  old  grapes  dried  almost  to  raisins ; 
and  received  in  return  five  lire  from  Mr.  Young,  and  all 
the  remains  of  the  lunch — a  regular  dinner.  I  was  so 
glad  to  have  another  peep  at  the  pleasant  place,  and 
to  see  again  my  favourite  picture  by  Overbeck,  of  him- 
self, his  wife,  and  little  Alphonse;  the  portrait,  too,  of 
Pforr,  his  dear  art-brother,  in  a  sort  of  Raphaelesque 
dress,  and  a  cat  rubbing  against  his  elbow  ;  also  the 
little  old  painting  of  '  Shulamite  and  Mary.'  I  looked 
at  these  three  small  pictures — all  of  which  belong  to 
such  a  lovely  part  of  Overbeck' s  life,  and  which  are  so 
intimately  connected  with  the  time  when  Meggie  and 
I  were  there  alone — and  the  hallowed  past  came  back 
again.  I  wonder,  when  we  are  in  the  other  life,  whether 
bits  of  our  earthly  experience  will  come  back  to  us  with 
the  same  sweet,  tender  reality  and  interest. 

"  Everybody  hopes  that  Mrs.  Gould's  school  is  now 
definitely  taken  by  the  Waldenses ;  though  there  is  no 
doubt  that  they  are  rather  narrow  in  their  religious  creed 
and  life." 


1871-79-]  ROME  AND  TYROL.  259 

"March  8,  1876.  —  I  must  tell  you  that  Mr.  Young 
has  pleased  Peggy  and  me  very  much,  by  giving,  with- 
out a  word  from  us,  fifty  lire  for  a  poor,  bedridden  old 
woman,  whose  two  daughters  —  needlewomen  —  not  so 
long  since  were  burnt  to  death  by  the  upsetting  of  a 
paraffine-lamp.  It  is  a  very  sad  case,  which  Peggy  has 
taken  up;  the  poor  mother,  who  is  left,  being  totally 
penniless  and  helpless.  She  is  ill,  and  probably  may  not 
last  long.  So  now,  as  Peggy  and  I  were  driving  with 
Mr.  Young  and  his  eldest  daughter  to  Castel  Gandolfo, 
he  out  with  his  big  pocket-book,  and  gave  Peggy  this 
fifty  lire,  telling  her,  if  the  poor  woman  outlived  that 
money,  to  apply  to  him." 


"55  Via  Sistina,  March  27,  1876.  —  Last  evening  we 
spent  with  the  Youngs  at  Peggy's.  Mr.  Young  then 
told  your  father  that  it  was  a  cause  of  concern  to  him 
that  Garibaldi's  two  little  girls,  about  nine  and  ten, 
were  being  brought  up  in  a  very  rude  and  careless  way  ; 
and  that,  as  he  knew  those  in  Scotland  who  would  gladly 
find  the  money  for  them  to  be  carefully  educated,  if 
their  father  would  only  consent  to  the  plan,  he  wished 
the  proposal  could  be  made  to  Garibaldi  in  some  way 
which  would  ensure  his  acceptance  of  it.  Mr.  Young 
also  wished  your  father  to  go  with  him  to  the  General, 
and  with  this  good  object  in  view,  he  felt  he  could  not 
refuse.  The  first  thing  this  morning,  therefore,  he  went 
to  call  on  a  friend  of  Garibaldi's,  to  ask  how  and  when 
it  would  be  possible  to  see  him,  and  whether  there  was 
a  likelihood  of  his  accepting  the  offer.  But  the  indi- 
vidual was  in  bed  ;  so  your  father  left  a  note,  and  I  hope 
we  shall  have  an  answer  before  long. 

"  It  seems  that  it  is  Mr.  Young  himself  who  wishes 


26o  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  vii. 

to  provide  for  these  children,  and  has  arranged  with  a 
Scotch  lady  to  undertake  the  management  of  them." 

"  March  29,  1876. — Garibaldi's  friend  said  that  Mr. 
Young  had  made  a  magnificent  offer,  but  that,  in  fact, 
only  one  was  Garibaldi's  child,  and  the  other  was  the 
child  of  the  mother  before  Garibaldi  took  her.  This 
threw  a  new  light  on  the  matter.  Then  came  the  great 
religious  difficulty.  It  was  not  to  be  expected  that  Gari- 
baldi, who  hates  priests  of  all  sorts,  and  who  does  not 
believe  in  Christianity,  I  fancy,  would  be  willing  that 
his  child  should  be  brought  up  in  the  Scotch  or  any 
other  Church ;  and,  of  course,  Mr.  Young  could  not  en- 
gage to  bring  her  up  without  any  religion.  The  friend 
was  very  anxious  that  no  cold  water  should  be  thrown 
on  the  scheme,  wishing  Garibaldi  to  have  the  offer. 
More  revelations  of  the  domestic  relations  were,  how- 
ever, made ;  and  Mr.  Young  considered  it  quite  neces- 
sary to  let  the  scheme  lie  over  for  reflection,  saying 
that  he  must  write  to  the  Scotch  lady  and  acquaint 
her  with  the  facts.  I  should  think  the  proposition 
will  evaporate." 

TO    MRS.    TODHUNTEK. 

"55  Via  Sistina,  Rome,  Dec.  20,  1876. — On  Monday 
William  entered  his  eighty-fifth  year,  and  it  was  altogether 
a  most  pleasant  day  to  us  all.  The  weather,  however, 
was  not  very  fine ;  therefore  we  did  not  make  the  little 
excursion  which  was  intended  to  the  Tre  Fontane,  the 
convent  erected  on  the  spot  on  which  it  is  believed  that 
St.  Paul  suffered  martyrdom.  But  it  was  not  in  honour 
of  St.  Paul  that  we  purposed  to  go  there  on  the  i8th, 
but  to  see  the  good  Trappist  Brothers,  some  of  whom 


1871-79-]  ROME  AND  TYROL.  261 

are  rather  friendly  acquaintances  of  my  husband's,  and 
always  make  him  and  those  who  accompany  him  heartily 
welcome.  They  are  great  growers  of  the  Eucalypti  of 
all  kinds,  and  he  has  furnished  them  with  a  good  deal 
of  seed,  which  our  Alfred  has  collected  for  him  in  his 
mountain  district  and  elsewhere  in  Australia.  Every 
now  and  then,  therefore,  when  we  want  a  pleasant  little 
holiday,  we  drive  over  to  the  Tre  Fontane,  see  the  plan- 
tations of  Eucalyptus-trees,  have  a  talk  with  the  friendly 
Trappists — W7ho  are  allowed  to  talk,  certainly,  when 
strangers  visit  them,  however  silent  they  may  be  at 
other  times — and  receive  from  them  at  parting  a  small 
draught  of  their  Eucalyptus  liqueur.  On  Monday,  how- 
ever, we  could  not  go,  but  instead  spent  part  of  the  day 
very  pleasantly  with  Margaret  Foley,  who  is  now  our 
next  floor  inmate,  having  removed  into  the  apartment 
below  ours ;  so  that  we  are  all  under  the  same  roof,  and 
go  backwards  and  forwards  at  pleasure.  Our  evenings 
we  spend  mostly  together.  We  have  thus,  in  company, 
just  finished  '  Macaulay's  Life  and  Letters.'  What  a  fine 
character  he  was  as  a  man  :  full  of  the  rarest  intellect, 
with  the  most  affectionate  heart !  I  do  not  know  any 
biography  which  has  delighted  us  more." 

To  MRS.  ALFRED  WATTS. 

"  Palm  Sunday,  March  25,  1877.— This  is  a  Sunday 
which  I  remember  so  well  in  your  Munich  life,  when 
you  took  a  long  country  ramble ;  the  scenery  you  de- 
scribed always  comes  back  to  me  on  Palm  Sunday. 
With  Palm  Sunday,  too,  you  commence  your  narrative 
of  the  great  Christian  tragedy  of  Ammergau ;  all  of 
which  is  sweetly  engraven  on  my  memory.  In  Rome 
it  is  a  great  day  at  St.  Peter's,  even  in  these  times  of 


262  MARY  HO  WITT.  [CH.  vn. 

non-celebration ;  and  if  all  things  were  consonant  there- 
with I  should  have  gone  to  that  basilica  to-day  and  seen 
the  commemoration  of  the  Lord's  entry  into  Jerusalem. 
It  is  to  some  but  a  formal  affair ;  to  me  it  is  a  vener- 
able relic,  and  I  like  those  things  :  the  procession  of  the 
priests  outside  the  closed  church-door;  then  the  sub-deacon 
knocking  at  the  door  with  the  staff  of  the  cross ;  its  being 
opened,  and  the  procession  entering  singing,  '  Ingrediente 
Domino  in  sanctam  civitatem.'  It  pleases  my  imagina- 
tion at  all  events.  And  the  blessing  of  the  palms ;  and 
their  distribution,  the  big  ones  to  the  officiating  clergy 
and  other  dignitaries,  and  lastly  the  little  ones  and 
the  broken  branches  of  olive  given  to  the  people.  The 
whole  is  a  memory  of  old,  reverent  things.  It  is  typical 
of  a  higher,  grander  ceremonial,  which  is,  I  dare  say, 
taking  place  spiritually  all  round  us ;  and  not  in  Rome 
alone,  but  throughout  the  world  :  Christ's  spirit  poured 
out  and  His  gifts  distributed  to  hundreds  of  thousands, 
though  none  may  know  of  it  but  themselves  and  the 
Divine  Donor. 

"  Yesterday,  in  the  afternoon,  I  went  out  to  try  to  find 
people  who  would  take  tickets  for  Madame  Ristori's 
reading  on  Tuesday  evening  for  the  benefit  of  the  '  Gould 
Memorial  School.'  I  had  not  at  all  a  successful  cru- 
sade. None  were  inclined  to  put  their  hands  in  their 
pockets,  excepting  dear  Margaret  Gillies,  on  whom 
I  called  ;  and  after  that  went  no  farther.  She  was  just 
finishing  her  picture,  and  was  worried  at  the  last,  and 
wanted  to  go  to  good  Mr.  Glennie  to  borrow  a  sketch 
of  distant  scenery  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Rome ;  the 
bad  weather  not  permitting  her  to  go  out  sketching  for 
herself.  When  her  things  were  all  put  aside  and  left 
for  their  Sunday  rest,  we  took  a  little  carriage  and 


1871-79-]  ROME  AND  TYROL.  263 

drove  to  the  Glennies',  down  into  the  very  centre  of 
Rome ;  and  had  such  a  cordial  reception,  such  a  nice 
call :  tea  made  for  us,  and  dear  Margaret  given  the  pick 
of  his  rich  portfolios  for  a  bit  of  Latin  or  Volscian  moun- 
tain, blue  and  dreamy  in  its  sunny  distance.  Then,  en- 
riched with  two  most  serviceable  sketches,  and  charmed 
with  their  genuine  kindness,  we  went  down  their  many 
stairs,  to  find  there  had  been  a  deluge  of  rain ;  and  I 
bethought  myself  anxiously  of  the  father  and  Meggie, 
gone  to  gather  flowers  in  the  beautiful  Borghese. 

"  Here  I  found  them,  very  cheerful,  but  somewhat 
wet.  This,  however,  was  speedily  rectified,  and  we  sat 
down  to  enjoy  your  welcome  letter.  We  all  wish  you 
a  most  pleasant  and  happy  time  with  the  Cowper- 
Temples  at  Broadlands.  I  hope  you  will  remain  with 
them  and  Sister  Elizabeth  over  Easter  Day.  There  are 
so  many  sacred,  sorrowful  anniversaries  before  that  day 
comes.  What  a  right  thing  it  is  to  keep  them  with 
befitting  reverence  !  I  wish  we  had  been  brought  up 
in  a  faith  that  had  these  holy  observances.  What  a 
mistake  Friends  made  in  regarding  nothing  but  First- 
Day,  and  that  in  such  a  dead  manner !  I  am  too  old 
now  to  begin ;  yet  I  do  seem  to  feel  a  very  great  want 
of  higher  religious  life  in  myself.  I  would,  it  seems 
to  me,  give  anything  for  a  sense  of  the  Divine  life 
within  me.  I  hope,  therefore,  amongst  the  good  people 
of  Broadlands,  that  you  and  dear  Alfred  will  know  a 
strong  influx  of  Love  and  Wisdom. 

"  Remember  me  most  kindly  to  the  Cowper-Temples, 
for  whom  I  have  a  great  love  and  regard.  They  are 
amongst  the  angels  of  God  now  on  earth,  who  celebrate 
the  second  coming  of  their  Lord.  Oh  that  we  might 
all  be  of  that  glorious  band !  How  I  long  to  feel 


264  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  vn. 

myself  recognised  by  Him  !  I  do  not  as  yet.  But  I  love 
all  His  children,  wherever  I  recognise  them ;  and  the 
Cowper-Temples  are  of  the  number.  Our  love  to  dear 
Eliza.  She  is  one  of  the  Lord's  servants  and  dear 
children." 

To  Miss  LEIGH  SMITH. 

" Dietenheim,  Oct.  26,  1877. — We  have  lately  had  a 
very  sad  and  anxious  time,  and  have  so  still.  Our  poor 
Peggy  returned  from  Innicheii  in  the  same  ailing  con- 
dition. She  was  better  one  day,  and  severely  suffering 
the  next ;  until  this  day  fortnight,  when  she  was  taken 
with  congestion  of  the  brain  ;  in  fact,  a  stroke  of  paralysis. 
The  Bruneck  physician  regarded  her  condition  as  very 
serious,  and  ordered  us  to  write  to  any  near  friends  or 
relatives  she  might  have,  and  that,  if  she  had  outward 
affairs  to  settle,  it  might  be  done.  But  dear  Peggy  had 
made  her  will,  and  we  were  amongst  her  nearest  friends. 
Happily  the  most  sad  effects  of  the  attack  abated  in  a 
few  days.  Her  sufferings,  however,  from  the  root  of  the 
malady  being  an  affection  of  the  spinal  cord,  are  incon- 
ceivable ;  and  she  has  a  pain  in  the  head,  making  her, 
at  its  worst,  wish  for  death  rather  than  life.  Indeed, 
her  constant  prayer  to  be  taken,  if  consistent  with 
God's  will,  wrings  our  hearts.  Truly  her  patience  and 
endurance  of  this  awful  agony  are  wonderful  and  most 
touching.  In  this  condition  she  cannot  be  removed 
to  Rome.  We  have  therefore  decided  to  go  from  here 
to  Meran  for  the  winter.  That  good  Dr.  von  Messing, 
whom  we  mentioned  to  you  when  here,  and  whose 
wife  you  saw,  will  be  there  to  receive  her  professionally. 
We  have  been  fortunate  to  get  some  very  comfortable 
rooms  where  William,  Meggie,  and  I  were  three  years 


1871-79-]  ROME  AND  TYROL.  265 

ago,  when  we  went  to  Meran  for  a  short  time.  One 
of  the  great  comforts  to  us  in  this  season  of  sorrow  and 
anxiety  has  been  the  kindness  of  the  Sisters  of  Chanty 
here,  who  have,  one  of  them,  come  each  alternate  night 
to  sit  up  with  our  poor  patient ;  Meggie  and  I,  between 
us,  taking  the  other." 

To  MKS.  ALFRED  WATTS. 

"Meran,  Nov.  16,  1877.— Our  dear  sufferer  has  many 
alternations  of  better  and  worse.  She  begins  to  look 
very  like  that  touching  sketch  of  Keats  in  his  last  illness, 
which  you  know  so  well;  the  face  thin  and  the  eyes 
large,  but  with  such  a  meek,  patient,  pathetic  expres- 
sion ;  and  she  is  so  gentle  and  affectionate,  so  like  an 
obedient,  loving  child.  The  final  parting  with  her  will 
be  a  sad,  sad  sorrow. 

"It  is  a  most  beautiful  morning,,  the  mountain- 
summits  shining  out  like  alabaster,  and  lower  down  in 
this  ever-varied  valley  the  autumnal  colouring  of  the 
trees  yet  remains.  It  is  most  exquisitely  beautiful.  I 
wonder  whether  Alfred  and  you  will  ever  visit  Meran. 
I  hope  you  may.  If  this  is  to  be  Peggy's  last  resting- 
place,  it  will  ever  be  sacred  to  us ;  so  I  think  in  some 
future  time  you  wrill  be  here.  The  peculiar  landscape 
is  much  more  striking  and  beautiful  at  this  season  than 
in  spring,  when  all  is  green. 

"  You  will  be  glad  to  know  that  our  little  apartment 
in  Rome,  which  I  feared  might  be  despised,  and  so  hang 
on  our  hands,  is  now  let.  Bishop  Tozer  and  his  sister 
have  taken  it,  and  entered  upon  it  yesterday.  It  is  very 
pleasant  to  us  to  know  that  such  extremely  good  people 
are  occupying  the  place,  which,  humble  as  it  is,  has  been 
our  happy  Roman  home  for  five  winters.  Is  not  the 


266  MARY  HOWITT.  [cir.  vn. 

dear  Heavenly  Father  good  to  us  ?  I  hardly  knew  how 
sufficiently  to  give  thanks  yesterday,  when  the  news 
came." 

"Friday,  Dec.  7,  1877.— All  is  over.  Very  peaceful. 
But  we  are  very  sad." 

"Dec.  12,  1877. — For  the  first  time  since  dear  Peggy's 
departure  do  I  to-day  feel  a  little  consoled.  It  is  a  most 
beautiful  morning,  and  we  are  presently  intending  to 
visit  the  grave.  I  wish  you  could  go  with  us.  Then 
you  would  see  in  how  lovely  a  spot  our  poor  sufferer 
lies.  We  are  now  beginning  to  receive  acknowledg- 

O  O  o 

ments  of  the  announcements  sent  out.  I  will  give  you 
a  few  words  from  the  letter  of  an  Episcopalian  clergy- 
man received  this  morning  :— '  Impelled  by  I  know  not 
what  motive,  I  had  closed  the  Sunday  service  this  after- 
noon with  the  prayer  from  the  Burial  Office  :  "  Almighty 
God,  with  whom  do  live  the  Spirits,  &c.,"  and  coming 
straight  from  the  church,  received  your  letter  a  few 
minutes  after  I  reached  my  room,  so  that  it  seemed  as 
if  unconsciously  I  had  offered  it  for  her  who  now  rests 
from  her  labours.' 

"Is  not  this  consolatory?  And  it  is  in  keeping  with 
the  whole  history  of  Peggy's  last  illness :  the  coming  of 
Dr.  von  Messing  to  Dietenheim,  the  physician  that  she 
wished  to  consult ;  the  nursing  order  of  Sisters  of  the  Cross 
from  Ingenbohl  established  in  Meran ;  the  affectionate 
attendance  of  her  faithful  Francesca,  and  of  good  Frau 
Walter ;  the  coming  here  of  the  English  chaplain,  just 
a  week  before  his  services  were  needed — everybody  and 
everything  as  if  appointed  by  angels.  The  lovely  day 
of  the  funeral ;  the  kindness  of  strangers  in  following  the 


1871-79-]  ROME  AND  TYROL.  267 

remains  to  the  grave  ;  the  unknown  eleventh  wreath  laid 
there,  as  if  by  an  angel — all  these  may  be  accidental 
circumstances,  yet  I  am  sure  you  will  understand  how 
doubly  sweet  and  welcome  they  are,  if  accepted  as 
evidences  of  Divine  approval  and  co-operation." 

"Jan.  4,  1878. — Your  father  and  I  have  just  come 
back  from  a  very  pleasant  walk  right  into  the  country ; 
amongst  picturesque  houses  and  such  ancient  orchards 
and  park-like  fields  scattered  over  with  grand  old  Spanish 
chestnuts.  You  might  fancy  it  England  in  the  reign 
of  one  of  the  Edwards  or  Henries.  I  feel  it  the  time 
and  character  of  that  little  story  I  wrote  years  ago  for 
Messrs.  Chambers,  '  Steadfast  Gabriel ; '  whilst  the  old 
castle  of  Rubein  is  just  as  it  would  have  been  in  the 
days  of  'Jack  of  the  Mill.'  Outside  this  castle — which 
is  one  of  many — stands  a  venerable  Spanish  chestnut,  on 
the  ancient  bole  of  which  is  placed  a  little  shrine  of  the 
Virgin  ;  and  in  front  of  the  tree,  on  a  sort  of  mound,  are 
benches  and  a  table  for  the  convenience  of  wayfarers  or 
simple  worshippers.  There  is  a  wonderful  repose  in  the 
character  of  the  country ;  no  hurry,  driving,  or  bustling 
along.  All  seems  so  peaceful  and  still  in  the  quiet  old 
lanes,  with  their  low  stone  fences,  up  which  ivy  grows, 
the  whole  dating  from  centuries  and  centuries  ago." 

WILLIAM  HOWITT  TO  HIS  ELDER  DAUGHTER. 

"  Meran,  Jan.  20,  1878. — I  am  deputed  to  write  to 
you  whilst  the  other  two  are  gone  to  church.  I  suppose 
you  have  in  England  been  deluged  with  accounts  of 
Victor  Emmanuel  ?  It  is  curious  to  me  to  remember 
the  number  of  times  that  I  have  seen  him  driving  on 
the  Pincio,  when  scarcely  a  man  would  lift  his  hat  to 


268  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  vn. 

him ;  and  the  number  of  times  I  have  heard  Italians 
say  as  Prince  Humbert  drove  past,  '  He  will  never  come 
to  the  throne ! '  Miss  Clarke  writes  to  us  that  one 
day  78,000  people  came  into  Rome  by  rail,  and  the  next 
70,000  for  the  lying  in  state.  The  editor  of  the  Popolo 
Romano  has  not  been  able  sufficiently  to  express  his 
admiration  of  Victor  Emmanuel.  He  says  no  such 
death  has  occurred  since  those  of  Titus  and  Marcus 
Aurelius.  He  sets  him  on  a  par  with  Scipio,  Fabius, 
Maximus,  &c.  They  cannot  well  go  further  unless  they 
put  on  the  front  of  the  Pantheon,  '  Divo  Victorio 
Emanueli.' ' 

MARY  HOWITT  TO  THE  SAME. 

"Feb.  23,  1878. — Day  after  day  races  on,  and  no 
sooner  has  a  week  begun  than  it  is  ended.  Yet  how 
full  of  events  is  the  time  !  Just  looking  at  ourselves, 
month  by  month  ever  since  we  came  here  some  occur- 


interest  to  the  highest  degree.  On  December  7  Peggy 
died ;  on  January  9  Victor  Emmanuel  died  ;  on  Feb- 
ruary 7  the  Pope  died :  and  through  it  all  lay  the  terror 
of  war ;  the  uncertainty  what  the  nations  would  do.  Of 
course,  with  us  it  is  a  mingling  of  important  world 
interests  and  our  individual  petty  concerns ;  yet  all  is 
interwoven  into  our  daily  lives,  forming  a  strange,  start- 
ling, momentous  epoch.  The  European  agitation  seems 
now  terminating  very  peacefully ;  God  over  all,  and 
bringing  mankind,  I  trust,  into  the  harmony  of  peace 
and  good-will.  We  have  taken  a  deep  interest  in  the 
election  of  a  new  Pope ;  knowing,  too,  how  curiously 
and  uncomfortably  the  Cardinals  have  been  immured  in 
the  cells  temporarily  contrived  for  the  purpose  in  the 


1 87 1-79- J  ROME  AND  TYROL.  269 

Vatican.  On  Thursday  afternoon,  as  your  Father  and 
Meggie  were  taking  their  walk,  he,  I  believe,  was 
wondering  how  the  Cardinals  were  getting  on,  and 
whether  they  had  nearly  brought  their  work  to  a  con- 
clusion ;  when  Meggie,  lifting  up  her  eyes  to  the  lofty 
church-tower  just  then  come  into  sight,  exclaimed, 
'  The  Pope  is  elected  !  See  there  the  white  and  yellow 
flag  with  the  cross-keys  and  the  papal  mitre  ! '  So  it 
was ;  where  the  black  mourning  flag  for  Pius  the  Ninth 
had  hung,  now  was  reared  aloft  the  flag  of  rejoicing 
proclaiming  the  fact.  Your  father  was  almost  as  excited 
as  Meggie.  Away  they  went  to  the  Post,  to  hear  who  was 
elected;  but  before  they  reached  it  they  saw  a  placard 
at  the  street-corner  announcing  that  Cardinal  Pecci  was 
the  new  Pope — was  Leo  XIII.  Now,  you  must  know 
that  Pecci  was  the  very  prelate  whom  your  father  would 
have  chosen  ;  a  right  good  man,  whose  life  you  will  be 
sure  to  have  read  before  this.  Home  they  came  full  of 
the  good  news ;  and  Meggie,  bidding  me  put  a  shawl 
over  my  shoulders,  hurried  me  off  into  a  verandah  at  the 
back  of  the  house  in  sight  of  the  church-tower,  and 
bade  me  look  up  and  see.  There  it  was,  the  white 
and  yellow  flag ;  and  best  of  all,  Cardinal  Pecci  elected 
Pope  ! " 

WILLIAM  HOWITT  TO  HIS  ELDER  DAUGHTER. 

"  Rome,  April  28,  1878. — The  weather  here  is  quite 
summer.  This  morning,  as  I  was  on  the  Pincio,  the 
gardeners  and  custodians  saluted  me  very  smilingly : 
'  Fa  caldo,  signore.  Pare  comincio  del'  estate.'  This 
greeting  was  the  result  of  my  telling  them  the  other  day 
that  the  female  swan,  which  had  begun  laying,  and  had 
but  a  scrap  of  a  nest  on  the  ground,  near  the  hut  by  the 


270  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  vn. 

little  lake,  wanted  more  straw ;  that  swans  made  huge 
nests,  and  unless  she  had  more  straw  the  eggs  might 
spoil,  which  would  be  a  pity.  The  next  time  I  went, 
I  saw  she  had  got  and  appropriated  her  straw.  They  all 
know  me  well  by  sight,  but  now  they  think  that  I  am 
a  cute  old  fellow,  who  takes  an  interest  in  their  affairs, 
and  are  amazingly  civil." 

My  husband,  with  his  unworldly  nature,  led  the  same 
unsophisticated  life  in  Rome  as  in  the  quiet  surround- 
ings of  Dietenheim.  In  the  mornings,  when  children  of 
all  nationalities,  under  the  surveillance  of  attendants, 
played  in  the  broad  sunlit  paths  of  the  Pincian  hill ;  and 
in  the  afternoons,  when  a  gay,  fashionable  throng  drove, 
strolled,  and  listened  by  hundreds  to  the  music,  he 
walked  alone,  unless  joined  by  some  sociable  acquaint- 
ance. He  admired  the  fan-palms  standing  out  clear  in 
the  sunshine,  whilst  snow  was  still  visible  on  the  Alban 
and  Sabine  ranges ;  noted  the  beds  of  roses,  bay,  and 
laurustinus,  full  of  life  and  vigour ;  listened  to  the  plea- 
sant, familiar  warbling  of  the  little  tit-mice  ;  observed 
the  arrival  of  the  chiff-chaff  a  month  earlier  than  in 
England.  He  spied  out  in  the  thick  bushy  boughs  of 
the  pines,  cedars,  and  evergreens  many  goldfinches, 
some  warblers,  and  a  grand  old  blackbird  that  sang 
in  good  English ;  and  canaries,  some  intensely  yellow, 
others  of  a  greenish  hue,  from  mixing,  he  supposed,  with 
linnets.  To  its  death  he  was  familiar  with  the  stealthy 
Pincian  cat. 

At  Mayr-am-Hof  one  of  the  main  attractions  to  my 
husband  was  his  gardening.  He  carried  it  on  in  a  field 
allotment,  and  in  the  former  baronial  kitchen-garden, 
which,  neglected  for  half-a-century,  was  divided  from 


ROME  AND  TYROL. 


271 


the  mansion  and  farm-buildings  by  the  road  and  a  rude 
old  wall  surmounted  by  a  fence,  long  unrepaired.  It  was 
a  strip  of  terrace-garden,  containing  a  primitive  shed 
for  bees  and  some  unpruned  fruit-trees  with  straggling 
naked  branches.  In  the  sloping  orchard  below  better 
specimens,  however,  lingered  on,  and  tradition  dis- 


MAYR-AM-HOF  FROM  KITCHEN-GARDEN. 


tinguished  one  apple-tree  as  having,  by  its  fine  growth 
and  prolificness,  called  forth  the  admiration  of  the 
Empress  Maria  Theresa. 

William  indefatigably  dug  with  his  English  spade — 
a  unique  and  expensive  tool  in  Tyrol,  which  is  the  land 
of  clumsy  husbandry — planted,  tied  up,  watered,  and  cut 
off  dead  boughs  or  leaves.  I  enjoyed  sitting  near  him, 
reading,  knitting,  and  in  the  summer  of  1876  working 


272 


MARY  HOWITT. 


[CH.  VII. 


at  a  huge  cabbage-net  intended  as  a  protection  against 
the  legions  of  butterflies. 

A  little  tawny  owl  sojourned  for  a  series  of  summers 
in  a  cavity  of  the  venerable  poplar,  now  defaced  by 
decay,  which  raises  its  massive  trunk  outside  the  closed 
entrance-gate.  It  slept  by  day,  but  became  briskly 


THE  CLOSED  ENTRANCE-GATE. 


sociable  on  the  approach  of  night.  It  would  then  dili- 
gently converse  with  my  husband  in  the  gloaming,  per- 
sistently answering  his  hoot  with  a  monotonous  cry, 
that  had  an  alert  gravity  about  it  bordering  on  the 
ridiculous. 

When,  notwithstanding  annoying  incursions  of  the 
burrowing  mole-cricket,  the  practised  old  gardener  stood 
still  in  perfect  amazement  at  the  growth  of  his  redun- 


1871-79-]  ROME  AND  TYROL.  273 

dant  New  Zealand  spinach,  his  wide-spreading  "  Royal 
Albert"  rhubarb,  his  exuberant  tomatoes  and  towering 
spikes  of  Indian-corn,  there  came  the  hoopoe ;  in  ruddy 
buff,  black,  and  grey  attire,  with  "  crested  plume,  long 
beak,  and  sharpened  as  a  spear,"  as  if  out  of  Ovid's 
"Metamorphoses,"  and  uttering  its  hollow  "hoop-hoop," 
sought  its  insect  food  in  the  rotten  wood  of  the  old 
trees  or  the  spongy  soil  of  the  orchard. 

A  host  of  confiding  swallows  inhabited  the  eaves  of 
the  house,  warbling  in  the  early  morning  on  the  iron- 
work of  the  balconies,  skimming  in  and  out  of  the 
open  windows,  and,  as  the  season  advanced,  bringing 
their  young  into  the  upper  corridor,  to  essay  from  the 
top  of  the  old  cartoons  of  sacred  subjects,  or  from  the 
cornice,  and  pediments,  the  art  of  flying. 

This  upper  hall  assumed  by  degrees  the  character  of 
a  plainly  furnished  ante-room,  where  we  could  dine,  or 
the  servants  sit  at  their  needlework.  Indeed,  that  por- 
tion of  the  house  which  we  rented  had  gained  gradually 
a  more  clothed  appearance,  from  our  bringing  inexpen- 
sive carpets  and  draperies  from  Rome,  or  buying  them 
in  Tyrol ;  and  engaging  a  carpenter  to  make  chairs, 
tables,  and  cupboards  after  our  design ;  our  landlord,  the 
Hofbauer,  giving  the  wood.  When  curtains  excluded 
the  glare  of  the  sun  from  the  three-windowed  recess  in 
the  saloon,  I  beguiled  many  hours  there,  in  the  attempt 
faithfully  to  reproduce  with  my  needle  on  crash  the 
apple-blossom  of  the  orchard,  the  crocus  of  the  meadow, 
the  crimson  carnation — almost  the  national  emblem  in 
Tyrol — and  other  flowers  of  the  locality. 

The  Hofbauer,  perceiving  our  love  of  the  old  place, 
and  being  desirous  to  show  his  regard  and  retain  us  as 
his  tenants,  acted  contrary  to  his  firmly-rooted  antipathy 

VOL.  n.  s 


274 


MARY  HOWITT. 


[CH.  VII. 


to  innovations  and  needless  expenditure,  and  began  sig- 
nalising our  arrival  by  a  series  of  surprises,  that  on  more 
than  one  occasion  filled  us  with  blank  dismay.  He 
replaced  old  hexagonal  panes  by  modern  square  ones, 
stencilled  the  walls  of  the  saloon  to  imitate  a  first-class 


THE  UPPER  HALL. 


waiting-room  in  a  Tyrolese  railway  station,  and  had  the 
dull  green  panels  and  gold  mouldings  of  the  doors 
coarsely  painted  over  to  represent  satin-wood  and  ma- 
hogany, and  the  finely-wrought  ironwork  of  the  locks 
obliterated.  It  was  a  real  injury — something  that  grated 


1871-79-] 


ROME  AND  TYROL. 


275 


on  one's  nerves  and  set  one's  teeth  on  edge.  It  was  all 
the  more  painful  from  being  a  worse  than  useless  effort 
on  his  part  to  please. 

Fortunately,  a  few  old  doors  in  a  side-corridor,  with 
classic    subjects    painted    in    distemper    on    the   panels, 


PEEP  INTO  SALOON. 


and  arabesques  on  the  frames,  much  faded  by  time, 
but  having  a  stamp  of  ancient  grandeur  that  suited 
the  physiognomy  of  the  house,  had  been  overlooked. 
We  pleaded  their  merits,  and  they  remained.  Thus 
has  experience  taught  us  never  to  desire  signs  of 


276 


MAKY  HOWITT. 


[CH.  VII. 


care    and   improvement   about   the   weather-stained    old 
place. 

Our  quiet  industry  at  Dietenheim  was  at  times  most 
agreeably  diversified  by  the  visits  of  valued  friends. 
Hither,  amongst  others,  came  on  a  second  visit,  in  the 


ONE  OF  THE  OLD  DOORS. 


summer  of  1878,  Miss  Freeman  Clarke,  bringing  with 
her  the  result  of  much  patient  wanderings  about  Italy 
and  even  Tyrol,  in  her  collection  of  exquisite  pen-and-ink 
drawings  of  the  various  scenes  of  Dante's  exile.  She 
had  long  been'  a  resident  in  Rome,  and  closely  associated 


1871-79-]  ROME  AND  TYROL.  277 

with  our  life  there,  but  was  then  bound  for  a  new  home 
in  Georgia.  We  wished  her  God- speed  with  sorrowful 
hearts,  for  we  knew,  in  all  probability,  we  should  not 
meet  on  earth  again.  It  never  entered  our  minds  that 
such  would  be  the  case  with  another  welcome  guest  who 
left  us  at  the  same  time.  This  was  the  large-hearted, 
nobly-endowed  young  writer,  James  Macdonell,  a  son- 
in-law  of  my  beloved  sister  Anna.  His  lucid,  rapid 
thoughts,  expressed  in  easy,  polished  language,  had 
charmed  and  enlivened  our  little  domestic  circle. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE  HOME  IN  MERAN. 
1879-1882. 

DURING  the  last  seven  years  of  my  husband's  life  we 
occupied  small  but  pleasant  quarters  in  the  Via  Sistina, 
close  to  his  favourite  Pincio.  The  back  windows  looked 
across  a  little  garden  of  luxuriant  Southern  vegetation, 
filled  with  scattered  fragments  of  old  Roman  friezes  and 
statues,  to  the  frescoed  walls  of  the  house  in  the  Via 
Gregoriana,  which  had  been  occupied  for  many  years 
by  our  old  friend,  the  American  actress,  Miss  Charlotte 
Cushman.  Above  its  quaint  tiled  roof  and  picturesque 
loggia,  we  surveyed  the  slopes  of  the  Janiculum  and 
rejoiced  in  those  brilliant  sunsets  which  Claude  Lorraine 
had  loved  to  paint  from  his  near-lying  studio  windows ; 
until,  alas !  Miss  Cushman  having  long  since  returned 
to  America,  and  her  Roman  dwelling  passing  into  other 
hands,  it  was  transmogrified  by  the  addition  of  two 
storeys  and  a  flat  roof,  which  blocked  out  our  long 
stretch  of  the  Janiculum  ridge,  dotted  with  stone-pines, 
and  prominently  terminated  to  the  right  by  the  mighty 
dome  of  St.  Peter's. 

I  have  always  desired  to  retain  each  precious  thread 
of  friendship,  never  letting  it  wholly  slip  through  my 
fingers,  although  it  may  be  years  since  I  held  it  first. 
This  made  me  most  highly  estimate  our  residing  in 
Rome,  whither  all  roads  seemed  truly  to  tend,  bringing 


1879-82.]  THE  HOME  IN  MERAN.  279 

us  in  contact  with  an  infinite  variety  of  old  friends  and 
acquaintances.  Each  season  we  felt  more  at  home  in 
the  great  centre  of  learning,  art,  and  religion,  notwith- 
standing the  ruthless  spoliation  carried  on  under  the 
guise  of  needful  advance  ;  and  in  the  annually  changing 
society  of  winter  visitors  we  always  found  ourselves 
meeting  earlier  associates. 

After  the  temporal  downfall  of  the  Pope,  or  of  "  Mastai- 
Ferretti,"  as  a  plain  man-Friend  of  our  acquaintance 
deemed  it  right  to  call  him,  the  Evangelical  bodies  were 
eager  to  show  their  sympathy  and  interest  with  Rome, 
from  the  belief  that  her  political  situation  must  impel 
her  to  seek  the  alliance  and  support  of  Protestants ; 
and  it  was  to  me  like  a  strange  resuscitation  to  behold 
intelligent,  highly-cultivated  Quakers,  whose  forefathers 
were  connected  with  my  earliest  recollections  and  family 
traditions,  walking  amid  the  original  scenes  of  those 
engravings  by  Piranesi,  which  had  so  deeply  stirred  my 
youthful  imagination. 

There  were  other  Evangelical  Christians,  more  or 
less  in  unity  with  Friends,  who  included  a  visit  to  Pius 
the  Ninth  in  their  Roman  sojourn,  and  even  went  up 
the  Scala  Santa  on  their  knees.  There  were  others 
who,  for  conscience'  sake,  went  even  farther.  We  had 
a  very  pleasant  call  in  the  spring  of  1876  from  the 
widow  of  John  Bright' s  youngest  brother,  Samuel,  ac- 
companied by  Thomas  Richardson  of  Jarrow,  author  of 
"  The  Future  of  the  Society  of  Friends,"  and  Edward 
Robson  of  Sunderland ;  and  she  told  us  that,  of  the  four 
Quaker  brothers,  the  Lucases,  three  had  gone  over  to 
Popeiy ;  that  some  of  their  sons  were  now  priests ;  and 
that  Samuel  Lucas,  editor  of  the  Morning  Star,  was  the 
only  one  who  remained  a  Protestant. 


28o  MARY  HO  WITT.  [CH.  vm. 

My  husband's  life-long  advocacy  of  peace  principles 
brought  us  in  contact,  in  November  1873,  with  Mr. 
Dudley  Field,  Mr.  Richard,  M.P.  for  Merthyr  Tydvil, 
and  other  gentlemen  selected  to  promote  international 
arbitration  instead  of  war.  Mr.  Richard  had,  I  believe, 
earlier  carried  the  resolution  in  Parliament  by  an 
accident ;  for  had  there  been  an  ordinary  house,  it 
would  have  been  negatived  by  a  large  majority.  His 
having  so  done,  however,  and  thereupon  receiving  an 
address  in  support  of  his  views  signed  by  a  million  work- 
ing-men in  Great  Britain,  made  a  profound  impression 
on  the  Continent.  In  Rome,  Mancini,  Professor  of 
International  Law,  carried  the  motion  unanimously  in 
the  Chamber  of  Deputies.  Mr.  Richard  and  his  col- 
leagues were  cordially  welcomed  by  the  citizens ;  and 
an  enterprising  milliner,  turning  the  sentiment  of  the 
moment  to  the  advantage  of  her  trade,  introduced  the 
Chapeau  Richard,  or  Arbitration  Bonnet.  It  was  of 
soft  grey  silk,  fastened  on  one  side  by  a  dove  of  oxidised 
silver,  with  an  olive-branch  in  its  beak. 

Although  William  and  I  never  cared  for  dinners  or 
late  evening  parties,  and  avoided  so-called  "  society," 
with  its  petty  jealousies  and  struggles  for  precedence, 
we  thoroughly  appreciated  that  agreeable  interchange 
of  heart  and  mind  with  friends  and  neighbours  which 
yields  present  delight  and  fills  the  memory  with  en- 
during satisfaction.  Possessing  no  predilection  for  the 
Church  of  England,  we  yet  highly  esteemed  many  of  its 
ministers,  and  were  on  excellent  terms  with  the  clergy 
in  charge  of  the  English  Chapel  in  Rome.  Thus,  on 
our  first  arrival  we  had  agreeable  intercourse  with  the 
then  chaplain,  Mr.  Shadwell,  and  his  family.  I  next 
remember  Mr.  Grant  holding  the  same  post.  He  was 


1879-82.]  THE  HOME  IN  MERAN.  281 

from  Yorkshire,  and  full  of  good-heartedness  and  true 
human  sympathies.  There  were,  besides,  two  younger 
clergymen — one  a  desperate  Radical,  who  took  to  my 
husband  as  holding  the  same  views ;  the  other  a  smooth- 
faced Ritualist,  full  of  self-control  and  devotion,  who 
remains  in  my  mind  as  a  young  evangelist.  From  my 
heart  can  never  be  effaced  the  impression  made  by  the 
Christ-like  minister  of  the  Gospel,  the  Rev.  Somerset 
Burtchaell,  who,  more  than  missionary  to  the  Jews 
in  the  Ghetto,  was  a  universal  peace-maker.  We 
mourned  much  his  premature  death,  which  occurred 
in  Jerusalem.  The  Rev.  Henry  Wasse,  the  present 
chaplain,  came  from  solitary,  remote  Axe  Edge,  in  Derby- 
shire. He  was  as  a  boy  fond  of  William's  "  Rural  Life 
of  England,"  and  quoted  with  true  relish  and  perfect 
pronunciation  the  anecdote  given  of  the  farmer  who 
said  to  his  guest  at  table,  "  Ite,  mon,  ite !  " — Guest: 
"  Au  have  iten,  mon.  Au've  iten  till  au'm  weelly 
brussen." — Farmer:  "Then  ite,  and  brust  thee  out, 
mon :  au  wooden  we  hadden  to  brussen  thee  wee ! " 
He  knew  the  Mackarnesses  and  other  friends  of  ours. 

Here  I  would  record  that  the  concourse  of  English 
visitors  to  Rome  brought,  in  the  Easter  of  1871,  the 
incumbent  of  the  village  church  which  I  had  attended 
when  we  dwelt  at  The  Orchard ;  a  guileless  character, 
whose  one  thought  was  how  faithfully  to  do  his  duty 
both  to  God  and  man.  It  was  quite  a  joy  to  us  that 
he  came.  The  next  spring  we  met  again,  at  first 
accidentally  on  the  Spanish  steps,  the  Unitarian  minister, 
Dr.  Sadler,  and  his  wife ;  he  whose  thoughtful,  poetic 
sermons  had  soothed  and  stirred  my %  mind  when  we 
dwelt  at  Clapton  and  St.  John's  Wood.  Later  on  came 
the  Rev.  Thomas  Stooks,  a  good  friend  of  ours,  and  who 


282  MARY  HO  WITT.  [CH.  vm. 

had  been  the  incumbent  of  St.  Anne's,  Highgate  Else, 
when  we  dwelt  in  that  locality.  How  pleased  were 
we  to  see  once  more,  and  that  in  Rome,  our  old 
acquaintance  of  Nottingham,  Philip  Bailey,  the  author 
of  "  Festus,"  who  had  come  with  his  wife  from  their 
island  home  in  Guernsey  for  a  six  weeks'  tour  in  Italy. 
In  March  1873  the  gentle  and  refined  Mr.  Edward 
Clifford  and  his  sister  were  in  the  Eternal  City.  They 
sang  together  beautiful  hymns  and  spoke  much  with 
us  of  Broadlands  and  Sister  Elizabeth.*  In  1876,  at  the 
Christmas  season,  Professor  Boyd  Dawkins  quite  capti- 
vated us  by  lively  descriptions  of  his  exploits  in  old 
bone-caves.  In  the  spring  of  1879  came  our  literary 
co-worker  and  much-esteemed  friend,  the  deservedly 
popular  author,  Dr.  Samuel  Smiles,  and  his  wife,  ever 
his  true  helpmate.  We  also  found  among  the  established 
residents  the  Countess  Gigliucci,  with  whom,  when  Clara 
Novello,  some  reader  may  remember  we  had  enjoyed 
travelling  many  years  earlier. 

Among  the  very  numerous  Americans  whom  we  had 
the  pleasure  of  meeting  were,  in  the  season  1870-71, 
the  two  clever  daughters  of  the  philosopher,  Amos 
Bronson  Alcott.  The  one,  Louisa,  who  already  had 
attained  celebrity  by  her  "  Old-fashioned  Girl "  and 
"Little  Women,"  found  time,  amid  much  sight-seeing 
and  company,  to  write  in  Rome  her  "  Little  Men ; "  the 
other,  May,  meanwhile  devoting  herself  to  landscape- 
painting.  Moncure  Conway,  when  preparing  his  lectures 
on  the  "  Natural  History  of  the  Devil "  for  delivery  at  the 
Royal  Institution,  paid  a  flying  visit  to  Rome  in  the 

*  Mr.  Clifford  has  since  personally  rendered  signal  service  to  the  late  Father 
Damien,  apostle  of  the  lepers,  in  Molokai. 


1879-82.]  THE  HOME  IN  MERAN.  283 

spring  of  1872.  He  supposed  that  Rome  must  offer 
him  rich  contributions  for  his  demonology,  but,  if  I 
remember  rightly,  in  this  he  was  disappointed.  1873 
brought  the  Bayard  Taylors.  He  was  changed  since 
last  we  met  from  a  handsome  young  bachelor  of  slender 
person  and  equally  slender  means  into  a  powerfully  built, 
middle-aged  man,  evidently  enjoying  the  good  things 
of  this  life,  and  that  best  earthly  reward,  a  sensible, 
agreeable  wife  ; — she  was  of  German  origin.  In  February 
1874,  Mrs.  Adeline  D.  Whitney  stayed,  with  her  husband 
and  daughter,  at  the  Hotel  de  la  Paix.  She  was  in 
person,  manner,  and  conversation  just  what  the  author 
of  "The  Gayworthys"  and  other  good,  womanly  books 
ought  to  be.  And  although  we  have  never  been  granted 
the  privilege  of  seeing  face  to  face  the  home-abiding 
poet  Whittier,  the  bond  of  sympathy  and  mutual  regard 
was  drawn  closer  in  Rome  by  kindly  messengers  bringing 
us  his  verbal  and  written  greetings. 

I  have  already  referred  to  the  very  interesting  Scan- 
dinavian society  in  Rome.  Finns,  Swedes,  Norwegians, 
and  Danes  economised  together,  and  each  spoke  at  their 
common  club-room  in  his  or  her  native  tongue.  They 
were  rapturous  over  Italy,  and  reluctant  to  leave,  and 
at  the  same  time  they  yearned  for  their  Northern  moors, 
their  beech  and  pine-woods,  their  mountains  and  fjords. 
Once  at  home  the  majority  grew  restless  to  return,  and 
an  old  Northern  poet,  dying  in  Rome  in  the  winter  of 
1871-72,  rejoiced  that  he  drew  his  last  breath  in  so 
heavenly  a  clime.  At  the  same  time  young  Runeberg, 
the  chief  sculptor  of  Finland  and  the  son  of  her  greatest 
poet,  was  mourning  with  his  wife  the  loss  of  their  two 
young  children,  who  now  lie  buried  under  a  cypress-tree 
in  the  Protestant  cemetery.  The  last  of  these  little  ones 


284  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  vm. 

was  laid  in  the  earth  on  the  fourth  anniversary  of  the 
Runebergs'  life  in  Rome.  Altogether,  it  was  a  most  sad 
story,  and  to  see  the  heart-broken  young  couple  wander- 
ing forth  in  their  desolation  through  crowded  streets  and 
ancient  ruins  made  my  heart  ache. 

In  our  valued  friend,  the  mother  of  Mr.  Osborne 
Morgan,  we  had  an  agreeable  link  with  Scandinavia  and 
North  Wales,  as  she  had  spent  many  years  of  her  youth 
in  Sweden,  and  took  a  keen  interest  in  all  pertaining 
thereto.  On  one  occasion,  when  she  was  calling  on  me, 
charming  Anna  Hjerta — now  Madame  Retzius,  of  Stock- 
holm— a  beautiful  specimen  of  a  Swedish  woman,  entered. 
It  proved,  in  conversation,  that  her  mother  and  Mrs. 
Morgan  had  been  friends  in  their  youth.  This  further 
led  to  Anna's  mentioning  that  her  mother  was  closely 
related  to  the  unfortunate  Karl  Wilhelm  Jerusalem, 
whose  suicide  was  the  cause  of  Goethe  publishing  his 
romance,  "  The  Sorrows  of  Young  Werther ; "  an  act 
which  had  caused  the  Jerusalems  much  just  indignation. 

Madame  Jerichau,  the  clever  painter  of  portraits  and 
genre,  who  was  likewise  present,  remarked,  turning 
to  Mademoiselle  Hjerta,  "  It  is  curious.  You  are  a 
direct  link  with  Werther,  and  I  am  an  indirect  link  with 
the  heroine,  Lotte ;  for  when  I  was  first  in  Rome,  in 
my  young  days,  Kestner,  the  then  charge  d'affaires  for 
Hanover,  and  who  was  her  son,  wanted  to  marry  me." 

It  is  not  much  to  relate,  yet  the  coincidence  carried 
me  instantly  back  to  the  far-off  days  of  my  childhood, 
when  the  universal  astonishment  and  admiration  caused 
by  the  passionate,  sentimental  romance  reached  even  to 
quiet  Uttoxeter,  shattering  the  domestic  happiness  of 
Humphrey  Pipe. 

Mrs.    Morgan     and    her    two     daughters    constantly 


1879-82.]  THE  HOME  IN  MERAK  285 

wintered  in  Rome;  and  the  Sandbaches  came  one  season. 
Mr.  Penry  Williams,  whose  fifty  years  of  residence  in 
Rome  was  festively  celebrated,  much  to  the  hero's  sur- 
prise, by  some  appreciative  friends  in  December  1876, 
dwelt  at  42  Piazza  Mignanelli,  surrounded  by  his  ad- 
mirable sketches  and  glowing  oil-paintings  of  Italy  and 
her  Contadini,  which  he  showed  in  his  accustomed  quiet, 
unobtrusive  way.  Miss  Rhoda  Broughton  may  also  be 
classed  in  the  Welsh  list,  from  her  residence  in  the 
Principality  with  her  married  sister,  who  accompanied 
her  to  Rome  in  the  early  part  of  1874. 

In  Rome  our  connection  with  the  Antipodes  was 
brought  prominently  before  us.  Not  only  Mr.  G.  W. 
Rusden,  of  Melbourne,  but  other  Australians  just  arrived 
from  Naples  or  Brindisi  on  their  way  to  England,  dropped 
in  to  see  us.  An  accidental  visit,  moreover,  to  the  studio 
of  a  sculptor  named  Summers  made  us  acquainted  with 
the  artist  of  the  monument  erected  by  the  Victorian 
Government  to  Burke  and  Wills,  and  which  commemo- 
rates in  statuary  the  offices  performed  by  our  son. 

In  the  spring  of  1877  we  had  the  joy  of  welcoming 
our  faithful  friend,  Miss  Margaret  Gillies,  whose  affec- 
tionate and  enthusiastic  nature  luxuriated  in  a  sojourn 
at  Rome.  It  was  a  time  of  exquisite  happiness  mingled 
with  pain,  for  our  beloved  and  gifted  friend,  Margaret 
Foley,  was  then  already  treading  the  Valley  of  the 
Shadow  of  Death  in  sickness,  weariness,  and  agony, 
which  were  to  end,  the  following  December,  in  death. 

The  friendship  of  Baron  and  Baroness  von  Hoffmann 
was  a  great  blessing  to  this  poor  sufferer  and  ourselves, 
and  cast  a  golden  effulgence  over  my  husband's  closing 
hours.  He  delighted  to  wander  with  them  in  familiar 
converse  about  the  extensive  grounds  of  their  beautiful 


286  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  vin. 

home,  which  possesses  the  grandest  view  of  Rome  that 
I  can  recall.  It  embraces  much  of  the  imperial  city, 
the  cupola  of  St.  Peter's,  the  vast  Campagna,  with  its 
engirdling  mountains ;  a  landscape  scattered  over  far 
and  wide  with  ancient  aqueducts,  dull  red  and  ivied 
walls,  ruins,  temples,  churches,  monasteries,  presenting 
an  epitome,  as  it  were,  of  classic  and  Christian  Rome. 
Old  box-hedges,  or  rather  walls,  neatly  clipped,  bound 
the  gardens,  alleys,  and  approaches  to  the  mansion,  and 
send  forth  in  the  sun  their  peculiar  odour.  Ancient 
statues  of  old  Romans,  broken  friezes,  torsos,  and  sarco- 
phagi, all  genuinely  pagan  and  characteristic  spoils  of 
the  soil,  flank  the  sunny  terraces  and  the  dark  avenue 
of  wide-spreading  ilexes ;  whilst  an  old  stone  seat,  em- 
bowered in  luxuriant  foliage,  and  facing  Monte  Cavo, 
marks  the  spot  where,  according  to  the  inscription,  the 
Apostle  of  Rome,  kind  St.  Philip  Neri,  "  conversed  with 
his  disciples  on  the  things  of  God." 

Scenes  are  these  of  beauty  and  plenty ;  nay  more,  of 
awe-inspiring  devotion.  On  this  self-same  Ccelian  Hill, 
the  very  pearl  of  Rome  to  English  Christians,  St.  Gregory, 
from  his  home  and  monastery,  sent  to  our  heathen  fore- 
fathers, through  his  most  willing  missionaries,  headed 
by  St.  Augustine,  faith,  baptism,  and  Holy  Writ.  Here, 
in  other  hallowed  precincts,  hearts  have  bled  and 
prayed,  and  hands  have  worked  for  Britain.  It  is  a 
locality  once  possessing  the  house  of  the  Christian  lady, 
Cyriaca,  in  whose  portico  the  deacon  Laurence  distri- 
buted alms ;  and  still  possessing  the  rude  retreat  of 
the  great  abolitionist  of  slavery,  St.  John  de  Matha,— 
a  locality,  in  fact,  where,  from  the  time  the  sacred  grove 
of  the  Camense  skirted  the  hill,  saints  have  left  their 
impress.  As  I  think  of  this  my  soul  echoes  the  melo- 


1879-82.]  THE  HOME  IN  MERAN  287 

dious  verses  of  my  friend,  Madame  Belloc,  commemo- 
rative of  the  Ccelian  Hill. 

The  last  visit  my  husband  ever  paid  was  to  his 
favourite  associates  on  this  Ccelian  Hill  in  January  1879. 
He  appeared  quite  well  up  to  the  middle  of  the  month, 
when  he  caught  a  cold  that  brought  on  bronchitis.  He 
had,  however,  unconsciously  to  himself  and  others,  been 
suffering  for  some  months  from  a  valvular  disease  of 
the  heart,  which  the  bronchial  attack  revealed.  On 
Monday  afternoon,  March  3,  1879,  he  expired. 

MARY  HOWITT  TO  HER  ELDER  DAUGHTER. 

"55  Via  Sistina,  Jan.  27,  1879. — Your  father  had 
been  slightly  indisposed  on  Wednesday,  but  he  took 
his  little  walk  on  the  Pincio  as  usual.  On  Thursday, 
however,  he  felt  so  far  from  well  that  I  proposed  to  ask 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Purdie  and  Miss  Trelawny  and  her  brother 
to  defer  their  visit  to  us ;  but  he  would  not  consent  to 
that.  They  came,  and  he  was  so  lively  and  seemed  so 
much  to  enjoy  himself,  that  we  thought  all  was  right. 
In  the  night,  however,  he  was  taken  with  extreme 
difficulty  of  breathing  and  inability  to  lie  down.  As 
soon  as  possible  a  physician  was  sent  for.  Under  his 
good  care  he  has  most  satisfactorily  progressed,  and  now 
looks  quite  like  himself  again. 

"  People  are  very  kind  in  sending  or  coming  to 
inquire  after  the  dear  father's  state.  This  morning  we 

have  had  a  long  call  from  the  Kev.  Mr. ,  who  has 

been  interesting  us  very  much  by  giving  us  an  account 
of  a  visit  he  paid  to  the  King  and  Queen  the  other  day, 
when  he  took  them  the  letter  recently  published  by  the 
dignitaries  of  the  Church  of  England.  They  had  a  long 
conversation  on  the  present  state  of  the  Catholic  Church 


288  MARY  HO  WITT.  [CH.  vni. 

in  Italy,  and  on  the  public  religious  feeling  in  general. 
Queen  Margaret  is  a  strong  Catholic.  King  Humbert 
is  a  Catholic,  but  takes,  as  he  himself  says,  '  his  religion 
mildly.' " 

MRS.  ALFRED  WATTS  TO  MADAME  BODICHON. 

"55  Via  Sistina,  Rome,  March  9,  1879. — I  am  deeply 
grateful  to  our  Heavenly  Father  for  the  marvellous 
manner  in  which  He  has  comforted  and  sustained  our 
darling  mother  through  these  long  weeks  of  greatest 
anxiety ;  and  now,  in  the  first  sharp  surprise  of  her 
bereavement,  her  peace  of  mind,  her  joy  in  the  belief 
in  my  father's  peace  and  joy,  are  marvellous  to  behold. 
Indeed,  we  all  feel  a  strength,  nay,  even,  strange  as  it 
may  sound,  an  inward  joy,  which  is  not  of  this  earth. 

"  My  father  bade  us  in  departing  to  rejoice  with  him, 
not  to  mourn,  and  we  seem  to  lie  in  the  reflex  of  his 
bright  hope.  He  met  the  approach  of  Death  with  the 
same  brave  heart  that  he  had  ever  shown  throughout 
his  career.  His  intellect  was  bright  to  the  very  end, 
and  his  whole  spirit  merged  into  intense  love — love 
to  God,  love  to  man,  love  to  all  created  things.  The 
innermost  tenderness  of  a  most  tender  heart  bloomed 
forth  and  exhaled  itself  in  a  perfume  as  of  Heaven 
itself. 

"  He  sent  his  love  and  his  blessing  to  all  his  friends ; 
so  I  give  you  your  share.  We  all  felt  very  much  indeed 
your  writing  that  kind  letter  yourself.  God  bless  you, 
dear  Barbara,  and  make  all  lovely  days  of  old  be  trans- 
figured again  into  yet  better  days.  God's  hand  is  for 
ever  outstretched,  and  there  is  no  end  to  His  bountiful 
gifts  and  heavenly  outpourings  to  all  the  creatures  who 
love  Him.  He  may  transform  us,  but  the  transforma- 


1879-82.]  THE  HOME  IN  MERAK  289 

tions  are  only  into  lovelier,  more   subtle  and  exquisite 
forms.     And  our  days  end  not  here." 

THE  SAME  TO  Miss  MARGARET  GILLIES. 

"Rome,  March  10,  1879. — When  Mr.  Duncan  was 
here,  my  beloved  father  was  sick  unto  death ;  but  we 
knew  that  you  would  so  take  it  to  heart,  that  we  dared 
not  then  let  you  know.  Dear  Octavia,  too,  came ;  and 
how  sweet  and  noble-hearted  she  is!  She  knew,  and 
said  she  would  break  the  news  to  y6u.  We  are  aware 
what  a  severing  of  an  old,  old  friendship  this  must 
seem  to  you.  Yet  it  is  but  a  seeming !  Love  is 
an  immortal  creature,  Time  and  Death  render  her 
stronger  and  grander ;  and  only  when  we  enter  behind 
the  veil  may  we  see  how  glorious  she  has  become 
through  trial  and  pain. 

"When  dear  Alfred  and  I  arrived  here  three  weeks 
ago  yesterday,  we  found  our  beloved  father  looking 
but  little  changed  in  his  countenance ;  only  a  shade 
thinner  and  paler  in  the  face.  But  so  ethereal-looking ! 
He  was  very  quiet.  He  was  not  permitted  by  the  doctor 
to  speak  much.  He  was  sitting  in  the  dining-room,  in 
his  easy-chair,  propped  up  with  pillows.  He  wore  his 
crimson-lined,  dark-blue  dressing-gown  and  a  little  black 
silk  cap. 

"A  fearful  hemorrhage  had  come  on  when  the 
bronchial  symptoms  had  lessened,  and  it  was  the  fact 
of  this  hemorrhage,  and  the  news  sent  us  by  Meggie 
of  the  heart  being  affected,  that  made  Alfred  and  me 
set  off  at  an  hour's  notice.  What  a  journey  we  had ! 
And  how  all  seemed  a  terrible  yet  beautiful  dream  as 
we  rushed  across  France  and  Italy!  Italy  always  has, 
some  way,  been  to  me  the  ideality  of  grief;  and  she  put 

VOL.  n.  T 


2 9o  MAEY  HOWITT.  [en.  vm. 

on  her  mingled  robe  of  terrible  beauty  to  greet  us  on 
that  journey.  I  scarcely  expected  to  see  my  father 
alive.  But  how  much  consolation,  how  much  store  of 
golden  memories,  were  to  be  given  us  during  the  fort- 
night that  we  were  all  blended  into  one  heart  and  soul, 
as  it  were,  in  this  crucible  of  suffering  Love  ! 

"  I  found  my  beloved  mother  wonderfully  calm  and 
sustained,  and  my  dear  father  love,  meekness,  and 
patience ;  the  servants,  good,  fat  Louisa,  and  that 
faithful  Gaetano  —  you  know  them  —  most  devoted. 
Father  inspired  the  strongest  esteem  in  a  wide  circle 
of  friends.  All  sought  to  minister  to  him  and  my 
mother.  Indeed,  during  this  time  we  all  feel  that 
ours  has  been  a  very  banquet  of  love.  Prayers  went 
up  daily  both  here,  in  Tyrol,  and  in  England;  most 
tender,  fervent  prayers  for  him.  I  believe  that  very 
many  Catholics  prayed  for  him,  and  even  had  Masses 
said  for  him  in  some  of  the  churches  here.  A  very 
cloud  of  prayer,  like  incense,  was  always  ascending ; 
and  the  prayers  had  their  fulfilment,  in  the  tenderest 
state  of  mind,  in  his  gradually  relaxing  hold  upon 
this  outer  sphere,  in  his  yearning  for  the  higher  life, 
in  a  perfectly  internal  state  of  peace,  and  in  the  gentle 
termination  of  a  sickness  which  might  have  been  ter- 
rible both  from  length  and  intensity. 

"  This  day  week  —  Monday,  March  3 — at  half-past 
three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon — we  all  round  him,  good 
Dr.  Nevin  having  been  to  see  him,  and  having  read 
with  deep  feeling  the  '  Prayers  for  the  Sick ' — the  end 
came  !  It  came  fully  expected  by  us  all,  longed  for 
by  him.  He  must  in  some  mysterious  manner  have 
had  an  intimation  of  the  very  hour  of  his  departure, 
because,  asking  some  one  to  tell  him  the  hour,  and 


1879-82.]  THE  HOME  IN  MERAN.  291 

learning  that  it  was  one  o'clock  — '  Only  one  ! '  he 
exclaimed  in  a  tone  as  if  greatly  disappointed.  'Then 
I  have  yet  some  hours  to  struggle ! '  His  breathing 
was  much  oppressed ;  and  after  blessing  us  all — '  all 
his  friends,  and  all  the  world  ! ' — and  bidding  Dr.  Nevin 
good-bye,  he  did  not  speak  again,  except  to  say  rapidly 
and  with  a  joyful  sort  of  impatience,  'Lift  up  my 
hands !  Lift  up  my  hands.'  This  my  mother  and  I 
did,  standing,  as  we  were,  one  on  each  side  of  his  bed. 
His  hands  were  heavy  and  cold  like  marble.  His  eyes 
were  closed.  Death  had  set  his  seal  upon  the  beloved 
white  face. 

"  Two  days  after  this,  with  every  honour  that  his 
friends  in  Rome  could  show  to  his  mortal  remains,  he 
was  laid  in  one  of  the  sunniest  of  spots  in  that  most 
beautiful  of  all  burial-places,  the  Protestant  cemetery 
here — '  That  place,'  as  Shelley  said,  '  to  make  one  in 
love  with  death.'  His  dear  chrysalis  reposes,  beneath 
heaped-up  garlands,  near  to  the  grave  of  Gibson. 
You  know  the  spot,  and  can  picture  it  all.  There 
was  a  beautiful  service,  arranged  by  kind  Dr.  Nevin 
for  the  occasion ;  and  the  choir  from  the  American 
Church  was  present,  singing  lovely  hymns  in  the 
Mortuary  Chapel,  and  then  over  the  grave.  Every  one 
sought  to  do  his  memory  honour.  Again,  I  say,  we 
can  only  bless  and  praise  God ;  praise  in  the  beginning 
and  praise  in  the  ending. 

"  Is  it  not  singular  that  precisely  at  the  same  hour 
and  upon  the  self-same  day,  at  the  old  home  of  his 
childhood  in  England,  my  father's  younger  and  last- 
surviving  brother,  Francis,  long  an  invalid,  passed 
away?  They  have  become,  so  to  speak,  twins  in  the 
new  birth. " 


292  MARY  HOW1TT.  [CH.  vm. 

My  beloved  husband  was  wont  to  say,  "  There  was 
no  cause  to  lament  such  exits.  The  ripe  fruit  must 
drop,  and  now  and  then  a  night's  frost  severs  the  young 
fruit  too  from  the  tree."  Most  true  !  for  on  March  2, 
consequently  the  preceding  day,  our  much-prized  young 
kinsman,  James  Macdonell,  was  snatched  away  by 
death,  at  the  commencement  of  a  most  promising  literary 
career. 

Mr.  Augustus  Hare,  now  so  indelibly  associated  in 
literature  with  Rome,  attended,  with  other  sympathisers, 
my  husband's  mortal  remains  to  their  last  resting-place 
in  the  cypress-shaded  Campo  Santo,  the  strangers'  burial- 
ground,  which,  just  within  the  circle  of  mighty  Rome, 
is  guarded  by  the  ancient  tower-crested  walls  of  Aure- 
lian  and  the  blackened  white  marble  pyramid  of  Caius 
Cestius. 

The  old  Romans,  amidst  the  funeral  games  of  gladi- 
ators, solemnly  bore,  with  inverted  torches,  the  ashes 
of  their  beloved  to  sepulture  on  the  Appian  Way.  It 
seems  to  me  I  have  in  these  pages  led  the  reader 
stage  by  stage  to  the  tombs  of  my  departed.  It  must 
be  so  in  the  reminiscences  of  a  very  old  woman,  who 
has  survived  the  majority  of  her  kindred  and  contem- 
poraries. Yet  is  not  the  life  of  each  one  of  us  a  Via 
Appia  from  the  cradle  to  the  grave  ?  Well  for  us  when 
we  have  not  to  ask,  as  Peter  had  of  Him  he  met  on  that 
sacred  way,  "  Domine  quo  vadis?" 

MARY  HOWITT  TO  HER  ELDER  DAUGHTER. 

"Rome,  March  25,  1879. — Hardly  had  Meggie  gone 
with  you  to  the  railway  station  than  the  postman 
brought  the  important  document  announcing  to  me 
the  grant  of  a  pension.  I  was  so  overjoyed  and 


1879-82.]  THE  HOME  IN  MERAN.  293 

astonished  that  I  knew  not  what  to  do.  My  first 
thought  was  to  get  a  little  carriage  and  drive  to  the 
station,  and  gaining  admittance  to  you,  convey  the 
blessed  intelligence  before  you  started.  But  the  fear 
that  after  all  I  might  be  too  late  calmed  me  down ; 
and  giving  thanks  with  all  my  heart,  I  waited  as 
patiently  as  I  could  till  Meggie  returned,  when  we  set 
off  to  the  telegraph-office  and  despatched  our  telegram 
to  you  at  Turin ;  which  was  a  comfortable  outlet  to 
our  excitement.  And,  dears,  does  not  this  grant  seem 
most  wonderful,  quite  like  God's  own  blessed  work  ? 
It  is  so  readily  given,  so  kindly,  so  graciously,  for  my 
literary  merits,  by  Lord  Beaconsfield,  without  the  solici- 
tation or  interference  of  any  friend  or  well-wisher.  I 
do  not  know  how  sufficiently  to  give  thanks." 

THE  SAME  TO  THE  SAME. 

"April  3,  1879. — Did  I  tell  you  that  Octavia  Hill 
and  her  friend,  Miss  Yorke,  are  again  in  Rome  ?  They 
move  from  their  hotel  to  an  apartment  in  this  street 
this  afternoon,  and  in  about  a  week  or  ten  days  Miranda 
comes.  They  took  us  yesterday  to  the  Villa  Livia.  It 
lies  seven  miles  from  Rome,  on  the  old  Via  Flaminia, 
where  you  and  I  drove  one  afternoon  past  Poussin's 
rocks  and  Domenica's  tomb,  and  past  the  meadow  of 
white  narcissus.  The  villa  was  excavated  about  sixteen 
years  ago,  and  has  some  very  remarkable  and  beautiful 
frescoes  on  the  walls  of  one  of  the  rooms ;  something 
in  the  style  of  your  Morris's  paper,  all  a  thick  wood  of 
branches  and  leaves,  through  which  you  see  birds  and 
butterflies  and  tall  flowers  rising  from  the  ground.  I 
thought  I  should  never  tire  of  looking  into  the  sylvan, 
flowery  scene.  We  had  a  most  pleasant  excursion. 


294  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  vin. 

They  returned  to  dine  with  us,  Miss  Yorke  and  Meggie 
bringing  with  them  quantities  of  flowers.  The  Judas- 
tree  is  now  in  bloom,  one  mass  of  crimson  pea-like 
blossom  covering  the  boughs  before  the  leaves  are  out, 
excepting  just  leaf-buds  at  the  top  of  the  branches.  It 
is  a  splendid  tree,  but  not  common  as  yet  in  England." 

To  Miss  MARGARET  GILLIES. 

"April  13,  1879. — Dear  Octavia  and  Miss  Yorke 
are  very  comfortably  settled  near  us,  and  yesterday 
Miranda  arrived ;  therefore  Meggie  and  I  went  over  in 
the  evening  to  welcome  her.  They  all  seemed  so  happy 
and  bright,  that  we  were  drawn  into  their  cheerful  spirit, 
and  told  our  bits  of  experience  of  Roman  life  ;  and 
everything  seemed  to  take  a  comic  turn.  But  oh !  when 
we  got  out  of  the  house  into  the  street,  coming  home, 
we  felt  as  if  we  must  cry,  not  laugh ;  and  so  I  have  felt 
all  day.  I  cannot  bear  having  people  here,  we  so  sadly 
miss  dear  William,  and  all  his  pleasant,  interesting  stories, 
and  the  sympathy  he  had  in  everything  that  went  on 
round  us.  You  do  not  know,  and  yet  I  am  sure  you 
do,  how  deeply  I  feel  my  loss.  But  I  will  try  not  to 
dwell  upon  it. 

"  We  had  a  letter  from  Mr.  Duncan  the  other  day,  which 
made  us  unhappy  by  his  saying  that  you  were  not  well. 
Every  way  and  on  all  sides  we  hear  of  nothing  but  death 
and  suffering.  It  is  a  strangely  solemn  time.  You  know, 
I  suppose,  that  dearest  William's  death  was  accompanied, 
so  to  say,  by  that  of  his  sole  surviving  brother,  two  years 
younger  than  himself,  who  died  at  the  same  time,  to  the 
minute  :  and  of  our  dear  nephew  by  marriage,  James 
Macdonell,  who  died  suddenly  the  day  before.  Three 
deaths  of  our  nearest  and  dearest  male  relatives  in  two 


1879-82.]  THE  HOME  IN  MEEAK  295 

days !  Now,  in  one  week  we  have  lost  three  dear  and 
faithful  old  friends  :  one  of  them  beloved  as  a  sister  by 
Alfred  and  Annie ;  one,  Mr.  William  Oldham,  two  years 
my  husband's  senior,  wonderfully  hale,  and  with  all 
his  mental  faculties  clear,  but  who  never  got  over  the 
shock  of  William's  death,  and  thus  soon  followed  him. 
The  third  was  Miss  Meteyard,  poor  old  '  Silverpen,'  our 
faithful  friend  for  thirty-five  years ;  one  who  had  sym- 
pathised with  us  so  tenderly  and  lovingly  in  our  great 
sorrow. 

"Now,  please,  dear  Margaret,  take  care  of  yourself, 
and  do  not  work  too  hard.  Mr.  Duncan  says  he  is  pro- 
bably coming  again  to  Rome.  I  hope  he  may  bring  us 
a  better  account.  He  has  such  a  true  interest  in  you, 
and  is  so  kindly  sympathetic,  that,  as  you  know,  we  like 
him  much  ;  and  so  did  dearest  William. 

"  You  have  thought  very  often  and  very  affectionately 
of  us  and  our  return  to  England.  I  shall  never  now,  so 
far  as  I  can  see,  desire  to  return  there  as  a  home  ;  for 
since  William's  mortal  remains  are  laid  in  the  beautiful 
cemetery  here,  there  is  a  space  reserved  for  me  by  his  side, 
and  I  wish  to  die  in  Rome.  We  are  leaving  this  little 
apartment,  and  our  furniture  will  be  stored  in  the  pre- 
mises of  a  good  friend  till  our  return  from  Tyrol.  We 
go  back  there — a  most  sorrowful  going  back  ! — for  the 
summer ;  so  that  it  will  be  November  before  we  are 
once  more  in  Rome.  We  shall  then  hire  on  lease  some 
suitable  dwelling." 

To  MRS.  ALFRED  WATTS. 

"86  Via  Sistina,  May  12,  1879. — I  think  we  shall 
be  very  comfortable  in  these  spacious  lodgings  for  the 
remaining  fortnight  of  our  stay.  This  house,  you  know, 


296  MARY  HOW1TT.  [CH.  vnr. 

is  exactly  opposite  our  old  home,  and  we  have  flitted 
across  the  street  to-day.  There  are  great  goings  on  at 
the  Vatican  in  the  creation  of  the  new  Cardinals.  It 
makes  quite  an  excitement  in  the  clerical  world.  We 
only  get  very  passing  glimpses  of  the  important  proceed- 
ings. For  instance,  about  two  hours  ago,  after  leaving 
No.  55  for  the  last  time,  just  as  we  stepped  out  of  the 
street-door  we  had  the  edification  of  seeing  a  very  sombre- 
looking  carriage-and-pair  drive  up.  It  brought  back  Dr. 
Newman  from  the  Vatican.  That  most  interesting  old 
man,  on  alighting,  tenderly  embraced  another  son  of  St. 
Philip,  one  of  his  attendants  from  England,  and  who,  in 
the  Oratorian  black  cassock  and  white  collar,  had  been 
standing  for  some  time  on  the  pavement,  evidently  await- 
ing his  return.  Then  they  passed  lovingly  together  under 
the  large  arched  entrance  just  below  No.  55  ;  for  Newman 
is  located  in  our  close  neighbourhood,  in  the  house  where 
Signor  Vertunni,  the  landscape-painter,  lives.  I  have  a 
great  desire  to  hear  him  ;  only  he  will  not  preach  any- 
where ;  at  least,  so  it  is  said. 

"Now  I  shall  leave  my  writing  and  take  the  pamphlet 
on  '  Buddhism  in  China,'  and  read  by  the  fire,  for  it  is  so 
cold,  with  the  rain  falling,  falling,  and  our  little  apartment 
opposite  standing  quite  dismantled." 

THE  SAME  TO  THE  SAME. 

"Rome,  May  21,  1879. — I  have  lent  Mrs.  Terry  the 
Buddhist  pamphlet.  She  too  takes  an  interest  in  the 
subject,  as  her  son,  Marion  Crawford,  a  young  fellow 
brought  up  at  Oxford,  has  somewhat  suddenly  turned  his 
attention  to  Sanscrit,  for  which  he  found  in  himself  a 
great  capacity.  He  has  now  gone  to  Bombay,  and  he 
writes  to  his  mother  about  the  wonderful  wisdom  and 


1879-82.]  THE  HOME  IN  MERAK  297 

the  pure  morality  of  the  Zend-Avesta ;  and  how,  when 
people  understand  what  the  teaching  of  that  theology  is, 
boys  and  young  men  will  not  be  corrupted  by  the  im- 
morality of  classical  learning  and  literature,  to  which  so 
many  years  are  devoted.  Now,  when  Mrs.  Terry  brings 
it  back,  I  shall  have  the  extract  from  your  letter  for  her. 
But,  dear  Annie,  I  want  to  ask  whether  you  think  the 
children  of  Israel  being  carried  into  captivity  to  Baby- 
lon upwards  of  five  hundred  years  before  the  Christian 
era  might  not  indoctrinate  those  Eastern  sages  with  the 
wisdom  which  God  gave  through  the  Israelitish  prophets, 
taking  with  them  the  grand  prophecies  of  Christ,  the 
Son  of  a  Virgin,  the  Prince  of  Peace,  &c.  The  re- 
cluses and  hermits  of  the  Buddhist  faith  are  but  an 
earlier  version  of  the  hermits  of  the  Thebaid.  I  sup- 
pose all  this  has  been  worked  out  and  made  clear  by 
some  of  the  many  minds  which  are  now  turned  to  these 
subjects." 

THE  SAME  TO  THE  SAME. 

"  Meran,  June  12,  1879. — I  thank  you  very  much  for 
the  touching  little  intimations  of  the  spirit-world  which 
you  sent  me.  I  wonder  very  much  whether  good  Catholics 

would  accept  anything  of  the  kind.  Would  Father , 

for  instance,  sanction  dear  Julia  having  tokens  of  love 
and  recognition  from  her  spirit-mother  ?  We  know  they 
recognise  such  tokens  when  they  come  to  their  saints ; 
yet  they  regard  them  as  snares  of  the  Evil  One  when 
they  come  to  those  outside  the  pale  of  their  Church. 
We  are  just  now  reading  Cardinal  Newman's  '  Callista,' 
a  lovely,  pure,  and  noble  story  of  the  early  Christian 
times. 

"  To-morrow  afternoon  there  is  going  to  be  another 


298  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  vni. 

little  excursion.  The  Woodward  Scotts  and  their  dear 
children,  Mary  and  John  von  Messing,  Meggie  and 
myself  are  going  to  drink  coffee  at  the  rural  inn  belong- 
ing to  the  Cistercian  monks.  It  is  a  romantic  spot, 
well  known  to  your  dearest  father.  The  house  stands 
on  a  slope  by  a  fine  spreading  Spanish  chestnut-tree ; 
below  stretch  well-kept  meadows  and  gardens,  filling 
the  breadth  of  a  narrow  valley  planted  with  fruit-trees. 
A  straight  path  from  the  Cistercian  farm-house  and  inn 
leads  to  a  beautiful  and  venerable  little  church,  as  old 
almost  as  the  hills,  and  dedicated  to  St.  Valentine,  the 
first  apostle  of  Christianity  in  this  region,  and  who 
dwelt  here.  A  few  years  ago  it  was  restored  in  the 
Munich  style  ;  and  a  large  fresco  over  the  chancel  repre- 
sents the  Saint  preaching  to  the  half-savage  inhabitants 
of  this  neighbourhood." 

THE  SAME  TO  THE  SAME. 

"Dietenheim,  July  15,  1879.— Now  let  me  thank  you 
for  your  kind  appreciation  of  '  The  Seven  Temptations.' 
I  am  so  glad  that  in  re-perusing  it  you  found  it  good. 
The  publication  of  that  book  was  such  a  painful  blow  to 
me,  or  rather  to  my  authorly  pride  and  conceit,  that 
I  never  really  got  over  it.  Nobody,  reader  or  critic, 
seemed  at  the  time  to  think  anything  of  it,  excepting 
Mr.  W.  J.  Fox,  who  gave  a  most  kind  review  of  it  in 
the  Monthly  Repository.  It  was  called  in  the  Literary 
Gazette  'blasphemous,'  and  everywhere,  as  I  remember, 
rather  scoffed  at.  I  have  never  had  the  heart  to  read 
the  book  since.  If  it  be  a  good  book,  then  I  am 
thankful,  for  it  will  be  recognised  in  Heaven ;  and  the 
writing  of  it  was  a  delightful  enthusiasm  of  poetic 
fervour  and  of  hope.  But,  dearest,  it  has  all  been 


1879-82.]  THE  HOME  TN  MERAK  299 

discipline.  I  do  not  complain ;  it  has  been  good  for 
me.  I  was  very  ambitious  in  those  days ;  and  I  am 
glad  to  think  that  I  had  my  disappointments  and  my 
crucifixions." 


"  Dietenheim,  July  20,   1879. — And  so  poor  William 

M is  gone  !     The   other  world  will   soon  leave  us 

with  very  few  old  friends  in  this.  I  had  always  a 
peculiar,  tender  regard  for  him  ;  and  the  friendship  that 
was  broken  in  this  world  of  blunders  and  mistakes  will 
be,  I  believe,  renewed  and  perfected  in  that  next  wise 
and  loving  world.  Then  I  hope  I  may  take  his  sister  to 
my  heart,  and  that  she  may  return  the  love  I  so  freely 
give  her." 

To  MADAME  BODICHON. 

"  Dietenheim,  Sept.  2,  1879. — You,  dear  Barbara,  belong 
to  those  peculiar  old  times  which  live  in  my  memory 
and  my  heart  like  the  sweet  poetry  of  life,  which  one 
must  not  expect  to  continue  on  to  old  age.  But  how 
bright  and  lovely  it  is  in  memory  !  And  the  sorrows  and 
disappointments  of  later  life  never  dim  it. 

"  We  are  come,  you  see,  to  our  old  summer  home, 
where  eight  summers  in  dear  William's  companionship 
had  been  so  happily  spent.  Some  of  our  friends  wondered 
at  it ;  but  there  was  no  home  to  us  like  this,  where  he 
had  been  so  happy,  and  where  remained  only  tender 
and  lovely  memories  of  him. 

"  We  stayed,  by  the  way,  at  Meran,  where  there  is  an 
excellent  physician.  As  I  was  out  of  health,  we  thought  it 
best  to  see  him  first ;  and  we  have  decided  now  to  spend  the 
coming  winter  there,  instead  of  returning  to  Rome  ;  thus, 
if  I  am  spared,  avoiding  the  long  journeys  to  and  fro." 


3oo  MARY  HOWITT.  [en.  vm. 

To  MRS.  ALFRED  WATTS. 

"  Dietenheim,  Sept.  26,  1879. — No  heavenly  intima- 
tions come  to  me  as  yet ;  and  I  feel  so  painfully 
that  I  am  unworthy.  I  formerly  shut  my  heart  against 
spiritualism.  I  even  said  to  your  dear  father,  '  Don't 
come  to  me  after  death,  for  I  should  disbelieve  you. 
I  should  remember  the  false,  deceiving  spirits  that 
have  come,  and  reject  even  you  as  false.'  How  bitterly 
I  repent  it  now !  I  have  asked  in  prayer  that  my 
sins  might  go  beforehand  to  judgment ;  and  I  think 
all  have  been  brought  to  my  remembrance,  from  the 
very  days  of  my  childhood ;  and  I  seek  for  repent- 
ance, and  pray  for  a  sign  of  acceptance.  If  I  were 
a  Catholic  I  should  ask  counsel  from  my  confessor. 
But  God,  if  He  would  condescend  so  far,  could  do 
more  for  me  than  man.  I  will  not  trouble  you  with 
these  things.  Only,  the  remembrance  of  the  past, 
and  of  my  own  perverseness  and  my  own  short- 
comings, presses  heavily  upon  me  at  times.  If  one 
could  only  live  up  to  one's  mercies.  Day  by  day  see 
how  unspeakably  great  they  are  ;  such  a  gracious 
supply  for  all  our  wants  ;  such  a  surrounding  us 
with  good  people ;  such  a  making  of  our  daily  path 
not  only  easy,-  but  pleasant.  Surely,  surely  all  this 
can  be  nothing  else  but  an  evidence  of  the  Love  of 
God !  Yes,  it  is  so,  I  know.  But  then  I  want 
something  more.  I  want  the  knowledge  in  myself 
that  I  am  accepted.  I  longed  for  this  in  the  early 
days  of  spiritualism.  I  heard  of  the  new  life  that 

had  come  tq  Mrs.   C ,  and    almost   envied   her  the 

blessing.  I  wish,  now,  that  we  had  gone  on  accepting 
what  came,  without  criticising  and  carping.  Then 
perhaps  a  fuller  measure  had  been  given  to  me  at 


1879-82.]  THE  HOME  IN  MERAN.  301 

last.  Your  father,  though  he  rejected  much,  yet  held 
fast  by  that  which  was  the  mainstay  and  foundation 
of  all  true  faith — confidence  in  Christ  Jesus  and  the 
nearness  of  the  spiritual  world.  What  a  blessing  it  was  ! 
I  seem  to  be  complaining.  In  truth,  I  am  not.  I  am 
only  telling  you  how  I  am  seeking,  as  it  were,  to  re- 
cover lost  ground,  and  praying  in  my  poor,  feeble  way 
for  a  sign  of  acceptance." 

"  Meran,  Nov.  29,  1879. — To-day  dear  Julia's  pre- 
sent, the  '  Life  of  Ozanam,'  has  come.  I  have  been 
reading  it  this  afternoon.  It  is  quite  a  comfort  to 
me  to  find  him  a  Catholic.  Faber  has  spoiled  me  for 
any  religious  reading  of  the  Protestant  type,  however 
good  it  may  be.  Two  such  works  have  recently  been 
sent  me.  I  have  read  them  conscientiously ;  but  they 
do  not  seem  to  me  to  have  the  true  urvction  of  spiritual 
life  in  them.  In  this  we  shall  find  it. 

"  If  you  should  happen  to  see  Christina  Rossetti, 
please  to  give  my  kind  regards  to  her.  I  saw  a  little 
poem  of  hers,  some  two  or  three  years  ago,  which 
uttered,  as  it  were,  a  cry  out  of  my  own  heart— to  be 
delivered  from  Self.  It  was  the  whole  cry  of  an 
earnest  soul  embodied  in  a  few  words ;  a  wonderful 
little  outburst  of  prayer.  I  think  it  was  in  an  American 
magazine,  or  perhaps  Good  Words;  I  was  so  sorry  I 
did  not  copy  it." 

To  Miss  JULIA  LEAF. 

"Meran,  April  8,  1880.— I  wonder  whether  Annie 
has  told  you  about  a  project,  which  seems  to  have 
grown  up  in  a  wonderful  way  of  itself,  or  as  if 
invisible  hands  had  been  arranging  it  ;  that  we 


302  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  vm. 

should  have  a  little  home  of  our  own  '  im  heiligen 
Land  Tirol.'  This  really  is  a  very  great  mercy,  seeing 
that  Tyrol  is  so  beautiful,  the  air  so  pure  and  fresh, 
the  climate  so  beneficial  to  health,  and  the  people, 
taken  as  a  whole,  very  honest  and  devout.  Our 
little  nest  of  love,  which  we  shall  call  '  Marienruhe,' 
will  be  perched  on  a  hill  with  beautiful  views,  sur- 
rounded by  a  small  garden." 

To  MRS.  ALFRED  WATTS. 

"  Meran,  June  6,  1880. — You  know  that  Zillah  and 
Miss  Gurney  are  here ;  and  a  very  great  pleasure  it  is 
to  us  to  have  them  so  near  us,  for  we  can  see  their 
windows  from  ours,  and,  if  they  walk  in  the  hotel 
garden,  can  talk  together.  Dear  Zillah  will  tell  you 
about  our  bit  of  land,  and  about  our  building  that  is 
struggling  forward.  I  say  struggling,  because  of  the 
immense  blocks  of  rock  that  the  work-people  come 
upon  in  clearing  away  the  soil  for  the  foundations. 
Yesterday  we  were  present  at  some  of  the  blasting. 
It  is  literally  erecting  a  house  on  a  rock." 

To  THE  SAME. 

"  Schloss  Pallaus,  Brixen,  June  13,  1880. — What  a 
great  pleasure  we  had  in  your  letter  and  its  interest- 
ing details !  For  my  part,  I  am  fully  persuaded  that 
not  the  smallest  work  of  love  shall  fail,  in  God's  time, 
of  its  accomplishment ;  and  that,  whilst  we  are  mere 
bunglers  in  this  school  of  life,  our  training  here,  with 
the  Divine  blessing,  will  fit  us  to  produce,  in  that 
great  hereafter,  marvels  of  beauty  to  the  glory  of  God. 

"You  are  right  in  supposing  that  we  are  spending 
a  delightful  time  with  Baron  and  Baroness  Ernst  von 


1879-82.]  THE  HOME  IN  MERAK  303 

Schonberg.  They  and  Meggie  have  now  gone  a  walk ; 
and  I  am  resting  in  the  blue  sitting-room,  which  adjoins 
my  bedroom.  If  I  step  out  on  the  balcony,  I  see  the 
fresco  on  the  wall  above,  depicted  in  a  bold  style  in 
red.  It  runs  along  the  upper  portion  of  the  western 
front.  The  subject  is  a  tournament,  the  figures  a 
great  deal  larger  than  life,  very  bold  and  grand.  The 
castle,  which  is  under  the  protection  of  the  Archangel 
Michael,  was  built  in  1492  ;  so  it  is  old,  but  has  no 
ghosts.  At  the  present  time  the  large  blue  iris,  with 
its  broad  blue-green  leaves,  which  is  planted  on  every 
space  of  the  indented  parapets,  is  now  in  full  bloom, 
making  the  battlements  a  garland  of  natural  beauty, 
encircling  the  old  stronghold.  I  never  saw  anything 
like  it  before ;  and  you  would  admire  it  as  much  as 
I  do." 

"  Dietenheim,  Aug.  20,  1880. — To-day  is  a  very 
great  day  in  Bruneck,  for  the  new  Prince-Bishop  of 
Brixen  comes  on  his  first  visitation,  and  our  little  town 
is  decorated  and  prepared  to  do  all  a  good  child  can 
to  welcome  and  honour  its  spiritual  father.  At  three 
o'clock  Anton  drives  us  to  Bruneck.  We  are  to 
drink  coffee  with  the  Baroness  Marie  vou  Sternbach, 
and  then  go  to  the  hospital,  from  one  of  the  windows 
of  which  we  are  to  see  all  the  town  authorities,  in 
their  civic  grandeur,  whatever  that  may  be,  bring  the 
Prince-Bishop  into  the  town.  There  is  an  open  space 
before  the  Capuchin  Convent,  where  I  do  not  know 
what  is  not  going  to  be  done ;  only  this  I  know,  that 
little  Bertha  von  Vintler,  attired  in  white  muslin, 
with  a  lovely  bouquet  in  her  hand,  is  to  address  him 
in  a  poetical  speech,  which  she  has  been  learning 


304  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  vm. 

for  the   occasion,    and    is  frightened    out   of  her   small 

wits.       She   is,    however,  sure    to    do    it   very   prettily, 

and  her  parents   will   be  proud    of  her  to  the  end   of 
their  days." 

"Aug.  29,  1880. — The  Prince-Bishop's  visitation  was 
a  great  success.  The  Sisters  of  Charity  were  most 
anxious  about  his  going  to  the  hospital.  He  himself 
they  did  not  mind,  but  his  chaplain,  secretary,  and 
other  clergy  who  might  attend  him,  and  who  would 
stand  round  in  silence,  listening  to  all  that  was  said. 
He  arrived  at  the  hospital  in  pouring  rain,  and,  to  the 
infinite  relief  of  the  Sisters,  quite  alone.  He  visited 
each  room  and  patient,  and  was  pleased  and  satisfied 
with  all  he  saw.  As  he  was  about  to  leave,  he  said 
to  the  Sister  Superior,  '  I  feel  as  if  I  knew  you,  as 
if  we  had  been  acquainted  in  earlier  days.'  Then 
she  joyfully  replied,  'True  enough;  we  lived  for  six 
months  at  the  same  priest's  house.  You  were  his 
young  assistant,  and  I  was  learning  cooking  in  the 
kitchen.' 

"  I  am  very  glad  that  Calmet's  '  Dictionary  of  the  Bible ' 
is  under  your  care.  I  was  seized  the  other  day  by  a  sort 
of  old  love  and  longing  for  Calmet,  remembering  the 
time  when  your  dear  father  bought  it,  and  how  we  used 
to  sit  at  Nottingham,  you  a  little  child  with  us,  and  turn 
over  those  illustrations  of  Ashtaroth  and  Dagon,  the  old 
fish,  and  the  goddess  Diana  of  the  Ephesians." 

"  Dietenheim,  Sept.  30,  1880. — Mr.  Woodall,  who  has 
been  to  see  us  on  his  way  to  Athens,  made  himself  very 
agreeable,  as  was  to  be  expected,  and  we  took  the  oppor- 
tunity of  gaining  much  political  information  from  him  on 


1879-82.]  THE  HOME  IN  MERAK  305 

many  points  ;  the  working  of  the  Burials  Bill  amongst 
other  things.  He  could  also  tell  us  about  poor  old 
'Silverpen,'  who,  we  knew,  had  the  highest  opinion  of 
him  ;  and  how  her  literary  affairs  have  been  left." 

"  Meran,  Dec.  9,  1880. — I  turn  to  the  topics  of  your 
letter.  You  mention  Herr  Herder.  He  is  getting 
gradually  better.  Everybody  marvels  at  it.  But  prayers 
were  put  up  for  him  in  many  parts  of  Germany.  I 
never,  till  I  knew  as  much  of  Catholics  and  their  life  of 
faith  and  prayer  as  I  now  do,  could  have  believed  the 
same  amount  of  child-like  trust  existing  in  the  hearts 
and  souls  of  grave,  earnest  men  and  women  as  I  now  see 
is  the  case.  Another  instance  of  cure  by  prayer,  that  of 

the  Baroness  von  S ,  is  known  to  us.     The  visit  which 

your  father  and  I  paid  to  Dorothea  Trudel's  institution 
for  healing  by  prayer  did  not  satisfy  us.  Now  I  see  that 
amongst  Catholics  the  age  of  miracles  is  not  past.  I 
look  on,  wonder,  and  give  thanks ;  and  I  wish  many  of 
those  dear,  excellent  people  whom  we  know  and  love 
could  have  their  minds  disabused  of  their  prejudice 
against  the  Catholic  faith,  which  is  really  the  old 
Apostolic  faith.  Now,  don't  think  I  am  '  going  over.' 
There  is  no  fear  of  that.  But  I  cannot  help  seeing  and 
feeling  that  the  interior  life  of  the  Catholics  we  know,  is 
very  near  to  my  ideal  of  a  pure,  simple  Christiaji  prac- 
tice ;  intellectual,  loving  art,  loving  Nature,  but  living, 
loving,  and  enjoying  all  things  in  God.  This  is  a  long 
screed,  all  grown  out  of  Herr  Herder,  his  illness,  and  his 
present  betterment." 

"  Meran,  Dec.  27,  1880. — Your  letters  of  the  23rd  and 
the  24th  came  together  this  morning,  both  of  them 

VOL.  II.  U 


306  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  vm. 

bringing  news  of  deaths  very  different  from  each  other,  yet 
each  affecting  us  deeply.  Dearest  Julia  !  what  can  we 
say  of  her  removal  that  you  have  not  already  said?  It 
is  a  glorious  change  for  her.  We  cannot  imagine  one 
greater  from  that  long,  weary  bed  of  suffering,  that  long, 
living  crucifixion,  to  the  glory,  the  peace,  the  fulness  of 
existence  into  which  she  has  entered,  and  that  not  as  a 
temporary  thing,  not  as  a  simple  variety  and  relaxation,  but 
as  a  perfect  state  for  ever  and  ever.  No  more  suffering, 
no  more  grief,  no  more  change,  unless  it  be  into  a  higher 
state  of  blessedness.  Happy  Julia !  We  must  rejoice 
for  her ;  and  though  she  is  removed  from  her  dear 
earthly  friends,  yet  many  among  them  feel  that  she  does 
not  lie  under  the  green  sod,  but  is  of  a  truth  in  the  blue 
heavens  of  God's  life  and  love,  and  sooner  or  later  will 
be  amongst  the  St.  Philips  and  the  St.  Cecilias,  with 
whom  she  was  so  kindred  on  earth.  What  a  blessed 
faith  is  that  of  the  good,  sincere  Catholic,  to  whom  the 
glorious  other  world  is  only  next  door  ! 

"  We  have  felt  an  astonishment,  a  sort  of  awe  almost, 
in  hearing  of  the  death  of  George  Eliot.  What  a 
wonderful  change,  too,  for  her !  What  can  the  discovery 
of  yet  continued  life  be  to  those  who  had  not  believed 
in  it  ?  Oh  how  strange  it  is  !  " 

"  Meran,  March  23,  1881. — Our  guests,  Anton  and 
Jakob  Mutschlechner,  are  gone.  I  think  they  had  a 
nice  time.  But  I  fancy  their  pilgrimage  to  the  home  of 
Andreas  Hofer  was  a  disappointment,  as  I  believe  it  is  to 
all.  They  seemed  so  tired  when  they  came  back  last 
night,  and  had  seen  so  little.  It  is  a  very  uninteresting 
walk  of  four  hours  from  Meran  to  Sand  ;  a  most  fatiguing 
one  too  ;  and  no  fine  scenery  by  the  way,  nor  when  you 


1879-82.]  THE  HOME  IN  MERAN.  307 

get  there.  The  house  of  Hofer,  the  Sand-Wirth,  is  in 
itself  uninteresting,  and  the  room  which  is  shown  as  his 
has  nothing  at  all  remarkable  about  it.  There  is  only 
the  chapel  just  by,  where  Hofer  went  daily  to  Mass,  and 
the  place  where  he  knelt  is  shown.  Anton  and  Jakob 
were,  of  course,  pleased  to  have  seen  it.  There  is  a 
strong  movement  now  among  some  gentlemen,  headed 
by  our  revered  friend,  Count  Fries,  to  erect  a  beautiful 
chapel  at  Sand  in  commemoration  of  the  brave  patriot. 
This  will  be  attractive,  and  repay  the  labour  of  going 
there." 

•••» 

"  Schloss  Pallaus,  July  5,  1881. — Here  are  we,  so  far 
on  our  way  to  Dietenheim,  lodged  like  two  princesses, 
and  in  the  midst  of  kindness.  Besides  ourselves  are  two 
lady-visitors.  One  is  French,  the  other  an  American, 
»-  whom  we  and  your  dear  father  knew  in  Rome.  She  is  a 
pervert,  with  whom  he  had  what  seemed  to  me  at  the 
time  a  hot  controversy  on  the  Catholic  faith  and  people 
turning  to  it,  and  which,  I  had  feared,  must  have 
offended  her.  She  says,  '  No,  not  at  all ! '  and  that  she 
respected  his  fervour.  She  says,  moreover,  that  it  was 
my  translation  of  Herder's  holy  legend— 

'  Among  green,  pleasant  meadows, 

All  in  a  grove  so  wild, 
Was  set  a  marble  image 

Of  the  Virgin  and  the  Child,' 

in  my  '  Seven  Temptations,'  which  first,  when  she  was 
quite  young,  inclined  her  heart  to  the  Catholic  faith ; 
and  that  in  this  way  I  may  be  considered  the  cause  of  her 
perversion.  After  we  leave  comes,  this  week,  Lady 
Herbert.  Our  dear  friends,  Count  and  Countess  Hom- 
pesch,  are  spending  the  summer,  with  their  two  little 


3o8  MARY  HOWITT.  [OH.  VIIL 

boys,  Pius  and  Paul,  at  an  adjacent  villa  in  this  hamlet 
of  Sarns." 

PRIVATE  NOTES. 

"  Dietenheim,  Sept.  13,  1881. — Mr.  Weldon  joins  us, 
and  seems  very  happy  to  be  with  us,  just  as  we  are  to 
have  him." 

"Sept.  15. — Mr.  Weldon,  Annie,  Meggie,  and  I  left 
Mayr-am-hof,  and  were  given  more  flowers  than  we  knew 
what  to  do  with.  Dined  at  Bozen.  Drove  to  Meran, 
having,  as  we  approached,  a  nice  view  of  our  completed 
Marienruhe.  Slept  at  the  Post." 

"Sept.  1 6. — After  breakfast,  attended  by  Mr.  Weldon 
and  my  two  daughters,  entered  Marienruhe,  and  we  were 
all  much  pleased  with  the  rooms  and  the  views." 

"  Sept.  29,  Michaelmas  Day. — We  sleep  for  the  first 
time  in  the  new  home." 

"Sept.  30. — I  write  my  first  letter  from  Marienruhe  to 
my  beloved  sister  Anna." 

On  May  26,  1880,  I  had  laid  the  first  stone  of  the  house 
represented  in  the  woodcut.  It  commands  on  its  four 
sides  rich  and  varied  landscapes.  It  faces  the  south,  and 
there  stretches  out  below  it  the  broad  valley  of  the  Etsch 
or  Adige,  bordered  by  lofty  wooded  mountains,  having 
old  castles  and  little  churches  crowning  verdant  crags 
and  summits,  and  terminating  in  the  bold  precipitous 
profile  of  the  Mendola,  a  mountain  that  marks  the 
division  of  German  and  Italian  speaking  Tyrol. 

To    the   north   runs    the   valley   of  the    Passer   river, 


1879-82.] 


THE  HOME  IN  MERAN. 


309 


containing  the  birthplace  of  Andreas  Hofer.  It  too  is 
edged  by  mountains.  It  has  a  broken,  picturesque  fore- 
ground of  vineyards  and  grassy  slopes,  shaded  by  luxu- 
riant Spanish  chestnuts,  medieval  castles,  and  capacious 
chalets;  and  a  background  of  the  Jaufen  range,  the 
Mons  Jovis  of  the  Romans. 


MARIENHUHE. 


To  the  east  the  view  is  more  limited.  It  is  bounded 
at  a  distance  of  two  or  three  miles  by  the  high  porphyry 
walls  that  hem  in  the  Naifthal,  a  wooded  gorge  domi- 
nated by  the  granite  crest  of  the  Ifinger,  and  characterised 
by  its  hermitage  and  chapel,  and  the  savage  nature  of 
its  treacherous  mountain  torrent. 

To  the  west  we  look  into  the  Vinschgauerthal,  the 
upper  Venosta  Valley  of  the  Romans.  On  its  northern 


3io  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  vni. 

side  a  range  of  stupendous  mountains  lift  their  jagged 
peaks  into  the  intense  blue  sky.  The  Muthspitze,  the 
nearest  of  this  giant  band,  has  an  elongated  spur  called 
the  Kiichelberg,  whereon  nestles  the  village  of  Tirol ; 
and  on  the  nearest  and  lowest  slopes  stands  a  solitary 
square  tower  with  battlements.  It  is  called  the  Pulver 
Thurm,  and  rising  up  amongst  vineyards  above  Meran, 
immediately  catches  the  eye. 

To  MADAME  BODICHON. 

"  Marienruhe,  Jan.  9,  1882. — It  was  so  very  kind 
of  your'  aunt  Julia  to  write,  and  to  give  us  such  full 
details  of  Scalands,  which  is  associated  in  my  mind,  and  in 
my  heart  also,  with  you,  in  those  old,  never-to-be-forgotten 
days,  when  you  so  kindly  lent  it  to  my  beloved  husband 
and  myself.  I  never  saw  spring  come  out  so  beautifully, 
I  think,  as  in  your  woods,  those  young  plantations  in 
which  that  quaint,  picturesque  house  is  embosomed.  I 
should  hardly  know  it  now,  I  suppose,  judging  from 
what  dear  '  aunt  Julia '  says ;  you  must  have  added  so 
greatly  to  it.  Never  shall  I  forget  my  delight  in  the 
beauty  of  those  clustered  pale  yellow  Banksia  roses 
which  grew  on  one  wall,  and  now,  I  dare  say,  cover  the 
entire  side  of  the  house.  Little  did  I  then  imagine  that 
in  my  old  age  I  should  live  in  a  house  where,  this  very 
spring,  they  will  be  planted  with  other  roses  to  climb  up 
a  balcony,  and  probably  in  time  reach  the  very  roof;  for 
so  do  the  roses  and  many  other  creepers  in  this  beauti- 
ful climate  of  Meran.  In  a  few  weeks,  dearest  Barbara, 
when  we  receive  our  small  belongings  from  Rome,  we 
shall  place  upon  the  wall  of  our  pretty  drawing-room  one 
of  your  beautiful  landscapes.  It  is  Festiniog,  with  grey 
rain-clouds  sweeping  over  the  mountains.  How  I  wish 


1879-82.] 


THE  HOME  IN  MERAK 


you  could  see  it,  could  come  and  sit  down  with  us  and 
admire  the  glorious  views  which  we  have  on  every  side ! " 

To  Miss  MARGARET  GILLIES. 

"  Marienruhe,  Meran,  Feb.    i,   1882. — A   letter  from 
Gertrude,  the  other  day,  gave  us  the  happy  intelligence 


VIEW  FROM  MARIENRUHE  (LOOKING  EAST). 

of  your  being  so  much  better,  for  which  we  are  very 
thankful.  You  are  so  tenderly  connected  with  old,  old 
times  that  seem  to  belong  to  another  life,  that  I  have 
for  you  a  peculiar  affection.  What  a  pleasant  experi- 
ence my  dear  husband  had  of  his  first  acquaintance 
with  you  in  London,  when  the  Misses  Flower  were 
living,  and  Mr.  Fox  was  in  the  bloom  of  his  early  fame  ! 


3i2  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  vm. 

How  beautiful  it  all  was  !  Not,  perhaps,  what  we  should 
in  after-years  have  felt  in  the  same  way.  But  there 
was  a  poetry,  a  grace,  a  beauty,  and  a  life  about  it,  that 
remained  its  own  to  the  last.  Then  came  the  time 
when  I  first  knew  you  and  dear  Mary,  with  her  gentle 
ways — how  sweet  she  was  ! — and  all  that  life  at  Hillside, 
and  the  wild,  single  daffodils  in  the  field  opposite,  all 
of  your  planting.  They  did  not  get  double  and  spoil 
themselves,  like  other  daffodils.  I  do  not  think  that  a 
single  feature  of  that  time  has  faded  out  of  my  mind. 
Good  Dr.  Southwood  Smith  and  all  his  clever  grand- 
daughters, Gertrude's  pony,  Snowball ;  even  Collins  the 
gardener  has  his  place  in  the  group  that  gave  life  to  that 
picture  of  an  ideal  home. 

"  All  this,  dear  Margaret,  makes  a  beautiful  portion 
of  the  past,  which  dwells  vividly  in  my  memory,  in  spite 
of  sorrows,  disappointments,  and  crosses,  which  came 
like  heavy  clouds,  necessary  discipline,  and  the  conse- 
quences of  one's  own  mistakes  or  self-deception ;  but 
which  have  been  permitted  to  pass  like  clouds,  leaving 
behind  precious  recollections.  Every  now  and  then,  too, 
in  later  years,  you  remain  like  a  ray  of  light  in  our 
memory.  For  instance,  those  few  weeks  in  Rome,  and 
the  pleasant  time  together  at  Albano,  when  you  were 
so  contented  with  everything  in  that  ill-furnished  but 
pleasant  house  !  How  much  we  enjoyed  it  I  cannot  tell 
you.  The  pictures  you  painted  in  Rome  and  at  Albano 
I  love  to  remember ;  our  fat  Louisa  looking,  with  other 
women,  out  from  a  window  and  drawing  up  a  letter  in  a 
basket !  and  the  pretty  sketch  you  gave  our  dear  Peggy 
Foley.  I  hope  I  shall  not  have  wearied  you  with  my 
review  of  old  times ;  but  as  they  make  up  a  part  of  my 
affection  for  you,  I  must  be  excused  for  dwelling  on  them." 


VIEW  FROM  MARIENKUHE  (LOOKING  WEST). 


1879-82.]  THE  HOME  IN  MERAK  315 

To  MRS.  ALFRED  WATTS. 

"  Marienruhe,  March  16,  1882. — It  is  perfect  summer 
weather,  without  a  cloud  from  week's  end  to  week's 
end.  All  you  say  about  my  low-fits  is  true ;  and  if  it 
were  not  that  I  am  so  afraid  of  laying  the  flattering 
unction  to  my  soul,  as  if  the  Heavenly  Father  might 
be  satisfied  with  me  because  I  do  my  best,  I  really  could 
have  great  peace  of  mind,  and  even  joy,  in  the  sense  of 
the  continued  Divine  goodness ;  only  I  know  that  God's 
sun  shines  on  the  unjust  as  well  as  the  just.  Then  I 
know  of  a  certainty  that  I  have  not  deserved  the  bless- 
ings with  which  every  passing  day  is  stored,  and  that, 
like  Dives,  I  may  be  receiving  my  good  things  in  this 
life.  I  often  try  to  comfort  myself  with  these  lines  of 
Cowper's  : — 

'  Sometimes  a  light  surprises 

The  Christian  while  he  sings  ; 
It  is  the  Lord,  who  rises 
With  healing  in  His  wings.' 

"  Now,  if  I  really  were  not  afraid  of  the  unsurpassed 
peace  and  happiness  of  my  outward  life,  I  might  bask,  as 
it  were,  in  continued  sunshine,  rejoicing  ever.  But  then 
I  know  myself;  I  know  the  awful  shortcomings,  the 
actual  sin  of  my  long  life  ;  and  so  I  get  very  sad,  wanting 
an  assurance  of  salvation,  of  forgiveness." 

"Marienruhe,  April  14,  1882. — You  will  have  had 
my  letter  by  this  time  showing  you  that  the  sad  news  of 
your  dearest  aunt's  great  illness  had  reached  us.  We 
must  now  look  for  the  end.  Oh !  it  is  very  sorrowful. 
Yet  how  beautiful,  how  full  of  love  and  good  works  her 
dear  life  has  been  !  One's  heart  naturally  clings  so  to 
beloved  relatives  on  earth,  who  have  been  ever  ready  to 


316  MARY  HO  WITT.  [CH.  vm. 

speak  words  of  love  and  tenderness.  My  dear,  dear 
sister  and  true  friend,  may  it  only  please  our  Lord  to 
make  me  as  fully  prepared  for  the  great  future  when 
my  hour  comes  !  Your  dearest  aunt  found  a  place  of 
rest  for  her  soul,  an  anchor  for  her  faith,  in  the  Church 
of  England,  which  was  all-sufficient  for  her.  This  seems 
to  me  a  great  privilege,  even  though  that  which  satisfied 
her  never  could  satisfy  me.  I  am  so  thankful  for  her." 

"April  15,  1882. — The  sad  tidings  has  reached  us. 
I  cannot  as  yet  realise  that  your  dear  aunt  Anna  has 
gone.  Then  I  have  such  an  entire  confidence  in  her 
happiness,  in  her  well-being,  that  I  cannot  feel  heart- 
broken. But  for  the  dear  ones  left  behind,  what  an 
immense  sorrow  must  be  theirs  ! — she  that  was  so  lately 
with  them,  so  cheerful,  taking  such  a  tender  interest  in 
that  which  interested  others,  watching  with  such  keen 
delight  the  coming  out  of  spring  buds  and  blossoms. 
She  enjoyed  reading  modern  books  of  a  sweet  religious 
tendency,  not  overflowing  with  the  teaching  of  creeds. 
Thus,  one  of  her  last  letters  was  so  full  of  that  charming 
book,  '  Journals  and  Letters  of  Caroline  Fox,'  also  of 
'  John  Inglesant.'  Her  mind  had  not  become  old,  her 
heart  had  never  become  chilled.  I  know  that  my  life  is 
poorer  now  that  she  is  gone ;  but  I  will  not  murmur. 
I  will  do  my  endeavour  to  follow  in  her  track ;  to  take 
hold,  as  it  were,  of  the  Saviour's  hand — then  I  shall 
be  safe." 


CHAPTER  IX. 

IN   THE  ETERNAL  CITY, 

1882-1888. 
PEIVATE  NOTES,  1882. 

"  Of  outward  pleasure,  wealth  or  ease,  dear  Lord, 

I  do  not  ask  increase, 
I  only  ask,  with  Thee  a  sweet  accord, 
And  that  the  end  be  Peate." 

"May  6,  1882. — The  last  medallions  and  pictures 
were  hung  in  the  various  rooms  and  on  the  staircase. 
All  is  extremely  nice  ;  too  elegant  and  perfect  for  one 
like  me.  Oh  !  my  dear  Lord,  fit  me  for  the  reception  of 
Thy  increasing  mercies." 

"May  12. — Received  a  note  from  the  Countess 
Hompesch  that  her  cousin,  Father  Ceslas  de  Robiano, 
would  come  with  them  to  afternoon  tea.  He  is  a 
Dominican,  who,  by  order  of  his  superiors,  remains  on 
in  Berlin,  where  their  monastery  has  been  suppressed. 
He  has  suffered  no  little  in  the  Culturkampf.  The 
Hompesches  and  Father  de  Robiano  duly  came.  I  was 
deeply  impressed  by  him.  I  spoke  of  my  great  desire 
for  baptism.  I  hope  I  did  not  say  too  much." 

"May  14,  Sunday. — Father  Ceslas  called  in  the  even- 
ing. I  again  spoke  with  him  of  baptism ;  wishing  I 


318  MARY  HO  WITT.  [CH.  ix. 

could  have  a  direct  message  from  God,  that  an  angel 
could  come  and  tell  me  what  He  would  have  me 
to  do. 

"To  this  the  Dominican  replied,  '  God  speaks  by  His 
messengers,  saying,  "  He  that  heareth  you,  heareth  Me. 
He  that  despises  you,  despises  Me."  But  you  would 
be  right  in  demanding  from  a  stranger  his  credentials. 
Mine  are  the  Cross  of  Christ  on  my  forehead,  and  the 
words  He  uttered  to  me  at  my  ordination,  "  As  the 
Father  hath  sent  Me,  I  also  send  you."  I  come  from 
God,  and  with  all  the  weight  and  authority  of  the 
Catholic  Church.' 

"  I  spoke  of  the  great  difficulty  I  had  concerning  the 
honour  paid  to  the  Virgin  Mary,  though  I  should  like 
to  love  her  ;  and  he  answered,  '  The  hatred  of  the  Blessed 
Virgin  in  the  world  is  the  fulfilment  of  the  Divine 
Word :  "I  will  put  enmities  between  thee  and  the 
woman,  and  thy  seed  and  her  seed  :  she  shall  crush  thy 
head,  and  thou  shalt  lie  in  wait  for  her  heel."  Why, 
in  Berlin,  where  I  am  known,  the  street-boys,  poor  little 
fellows  !  run  after  me,  crying  out  to  annoy  me,  "  Hail 
Mary!"' 

"  He  took  out  his  breviary,  opened  it,  and  asked, 
'  May  I  read  you  a  little  prayer  which  a  dear  friend  of 
mine,  Pere  Besson,  gave  me  at  a  very  critical  moment  of 
my  life  ? ' 

"  I  expressed  pleasure  and  surprise  that  he  should  have 
known  Pere  Besson. 

"  '  Ah ! '  he  replied,  with  emotion,  '  he  was  my  dear 
friend — my  brother.  He  was  with  me  when  I  took  the 
habit.' 

"The  prayer  of  the  Dominican  artist  was  written  in 
French,  Father  de  Robiano's  native  tongue,  for  he  is  a 


1882-88.]  IN  THE  ETERNAL  CITY.  319 

Belgian.  He  read  it  very  slowly,  translating  it  into 
English : — '  O  Jesus,  my  Saviour,  the  only  physician 
of  my  soul,  I  fling  myself  with  all  my  weakness  and 
misery  into  Thy  ever-open  arms.  Humiliated  as  I  am 
by  the  sight  of  myself,  I  know  perfectly  well  that  I  am 
both  ignorant  and  much  mistaken  about  myself.  Thou, 
Who  seest  in  very  truth,  look  mercifully  on  me.  Lay 
Thy  healing  hand  on  my  wounds.  Pour  the  salutary 
life-giving  balm  of  Thy  love  into  my  heart.  Do  for  me 
what  I  have  not  the  courage  to  do  for  myself.  Save  me 
in  spite  of  myself.  May  I  be  Thine ;  wholly  Thine,  and 
at  all  cost  Thine.  In  humiliation,  in  poverty,  in  suf- 
fering, in  self-abnegation  Thine.  Thine  in  the  way  Thou 
knowest  to  be  most  fitting,  in  order  that  thereby  Thou 
mightest  be  now  and  ever  mine.  Thou  art  my  Master, 
my  Lord,  my  Saviour,  my  God.  I  am  Thy  poor  little 
creature,  dependent  alone  on  Thy  merciful  charity,  O 
Jesus,  my  only  Hope.' 

"  After  this  the  question  of  baptism  was  decided,  and 
even  the  day  fixed — May  26." 

"May  15. — Very  pleasant  letter  from  Australia.  All 
are  well ;  and  my  dear  eldest  grandchild,  Charlton,  was 
to  sail  on  May  4  for  Europe." 

"  May  19. — Father  Ceslas  came  this  morning.  I  ques- 
tion if  I  learned  much,  but  the  conversation  was  inte- 
resting. I  told  him  I  should  never  know  what  to  say  in 
my  self-defence  when  a  Catholic.  He  advised  me  '  to 
leave  it  to  God.  He  always  did  so,  especially  before 
magistrates ;  and  in  Prussia  he  had  been  taken  up  five 
times.'  In  my  case  it  will  never  be  so  bad.  No  one  will 
take  me  before  magistrates." 


320  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  ix. 


22.  —  We  talked  together  on  Everlasting  Pun- 
ishment. I  said  it  was  dreadful  to  imagine  millions  of 
souls  burning  in  torments  for  ever.  Then  Father  Ceslas 
exclaimed,  '  Who  said  there  were  millions  of  souls  "? 
Who  knows  how  many  souls  wilfully  reject  God  at  the 
last  \  I  remember,  when  my  brother  and  I  were  study- 
ing law,  a  dear  friend  of  ours  studied  with  us.  He 
had  an  intense  perception  of  the  holiness  of  God.  He 
was  ever  thinking  that  if  God  was  so  pure,  so  just,  He 
could  never  pass  over  the  least  sin.  He  kept  pondering 
and  pondering  whether  there  were  many  or  few  saved  ; 
with  his  estimation  of  the  Divine  Holiness  he  kept  re- 
ducing and  reducing  the  number,  so  that  they  grew 
fewer  and  fewer  each  time  we  met.  At  length  my 
brother,  who  was  a  generous  soul,  could  bear  this  re- 
striction of  God's  mercy  no  longer.  Up  he  rose  in 
righteous  indignation,  crying,  "I  tell  you,  Heaven  is  full 
of  scoundrels,  murderers,  fools,  and  blasphemers  !  " 

"  I  yield  to  the  doctrine  of  Everlasting  Punishment  ; 
trusting  all  to  the  wisdom  of  God,  which  is  far  beyond 
my  poor  comprehension.  I  know  He  is  merciful,  and  that 
all  He  does  is  right." 

"  May  25.  —  The  permission  arrives  from  Trent  for 
my  baptism  in  the  private  chapel,  arranged  for  the  con- 
venience of  Father  de  Robiano's  brother-in-law  and  sister, 
Count  arid  Countess  Franz  Stolberg-Wernigerode,  in 
Schloss  Rametz,  where  they  are  staying.  I  shall  have 
to  read  the  profession  of  faith  in  the  Tridentine  form, 
commonly  called  the  Creed  of  Pope  Pius  IV.  It  is  all 
right,  though  it  seemed  to  me  a  little  sweeping." 

"May  26,    1882.  —  A  very  important  day  to  me.     I 


1882-88.]  IN  THE  ETERNAL  CITY.  321 

became  a  member  of  the  Church  of  Rome  :  I  hope  ajid 
trust  directly  of  Christ.  It  was  all  very  beautiful.  Ernst 
von  Schonberg  was  with  me ;  and  the  act  was  per- 
formed in  the  midst  of  a  heavenly  human  family.  Went 
later  with  Ernst  and  returned  thanks  in  the  little  church 
of  St.  Valentine." 

To  MRS.  ALFRED  WATTS. 

"Marienruhe,  June  16,  1882. — Dear  Charlton  is  here. 
He  is  a  quiet,  well-bred,  self-possessed  youth ;  a  water- 
drinker,  and  never  smokes.  He  is  all  we  can  desire. 
This  must  satisfy  you  for  to-day." 

To  Miss  LEIGH  SMITH. 

11  Marienruhe,  Oct.  6,  1882. — We  thank  you  for  so 
kindly  sending  us  The  Graphic,  and  afterwards  The 
Illustrated  News.  We  are  interested  in  every  incident 
of  your  brother  Ben's  voyage  to  Franz  Josef  Land,  the 
loss  of  his  ship,  and  the  return  of  the  explorer  and  his 
crew  from  Nova  Zembla.  We  were  glad  to  have  a  peep 
of  them  in  their  hut  on  Cape  Flora.  But  above  all  were 
we  thankful  to  see  that  the  brave  man  himself  was  so 
little  changed ;  that,  notwithstanding  the  sufferings  and 
hardships,  it  was  just  the  same  calm,  thoughtful  face 
that  I  remember  thirty  or  more  years  ago.  I  am  afraid 
that,  with  such  an  amount  of  health,  strength,  and  un- 
abated vitality,  he  will  be  setting  out  again  to  the  Arctic 
regions.  I  hope  and  trust  not,  but  I  am  afraid  he  may. 
I  have  always  felt  toward  Barbara,  Ben,  and  you  as  to 
none  other  of  our  friends,  as  if  in  some  mysterious  way 
you  were  kindred  to  us. 

"  Of  course,  dear  Nannie,  you  have  heard  of  the 
awful  visitation  of  water  which  has  come  down  upon 

VOL.  II.  X 


322  MARY  HOWITT.  [en.  ix. 

poor  old  Tyrol  and  the  north  of  Italy.  The  misery, 
ruin,  destruction,  and  general  devastation  of  hundreds 
of  districts  up  in  the  mountains  is  what  nobody  can 
conceive  but  those  who  have  been  shut  up  there  and 
cannot  get  away.  Then  think  of  all  those  towns, 
Verona,  Trent,  Bozen,  Brixen,  and  poor  old  Bruneck, 
which  has,  perhaps,  lost  more  houses  than  any  other 
place." 

TO    MRS.    TODHUNTER. 

"  Oct.  13,  1882. — How  kind  you  have  been  in  feeling 
anxiety  about  us  here  at  Meran !  But  it  has  been 
mercifully  spared ;  for,  excepting  the  breaking  up  of 
the  railway  and  overflowing  of  the  river  in  the  broad 
valley  which  extends  on  to  Bozen,  destroying  vineyards 
and  orchards,  the  town  itself,  and  all  its  surrounding 
hills,  with  their  numerous  villages,  have  been  quite 
uninjured.  Beyond  this  broad  valley,  which  no  doubt 
in  primeval  times  was  a  lake,  all  is  ruin,  desolation, 
loss,  and  misery  inconceivable.  Our  poor  Pusterthal,  so 
peaceful  and  flourishing,  like  the  once-beautiful  region 
surrounding  Trent  and  Verona,  is  now  a  scene  of 
devastation. 

"  The  whole  year  has  been  abnormal  in  some  respects  ; 
so  much  wet,  and  so  unusually  cold ;  at  least,  it  was  so 
in  Pusterthal.  There  was  snow  on  the  mountains  even 
in  July,  fresh  fallen,  so  cold  was  the  -weather,  with 
rain  in  the  lower  country.  The  summer  harvests  were 
got  in  with  difficulty ;  the  later  crops  must  be  all  lost. 
The  destruction  of  bridges,  mills,  dwellings,  almost 
entire  villages,  is  so  appalling  and  heart-rending  that 
one  knows  not  how  relief  is  to  come,  nor  even  hope  ; 
because  rain  still  continues  ;  for,  though  it  may  clear 


1882-88.]  IN  THE  ETERNAL  CITY.  323 

up  and  there  be   two  fine   days,   electric  clouds  gather 
and  two  days  of  rain  certainly  follow. 

"  This  terrible  visitation  has  been  foreseen  by  the 
really  wise  for  half  a  century,  in  consequence  of  the 
wholesale  destruction  of  the  forests  on  the  mountains. 
Timber  being  greatly  in  demand,  Government  enforced 
fines  for  the  total  felling  of  mountain-woods  ;  but  the 
purchasers  of  timber  coming  from  a  distance  have  paid 
the  penalty,  and  the  peasant-proprietors  have  sold  their 
wood.  The  roots  of  growing  woods  or  forests  bound 
the  earth  together,  the  very  moss  spreading  under  the 
living  trees  and  nourished  by  them,  acted  as  a  sponge, 
and  drank  up  the  water  of  rain  and  snow ;  so  that  all 
was  kept  in  equipoise.  The  excess  of  water  now  on 
the  mountains  has  loosened  also  the  old  moraines, 
which  had  lain  there  for  untold  ages,  till  they  had 
become,  as  it  were,  portions  of  the  mountains.  These 
have  now  slid  down,  and  adding  weight  and  force  to 
the  swollen  streams,  have  brought  frightful  destruction 
with  them.  I  do  not  think  that  any  newspaper  state- 
ments have  been  exaggerated,  although  they  may  have 
been  written  in  that  sensational  style  which  always 
offends  one's  good  taste,  and  often  makes  one  disbelieve 
the  narration." 

To  MRS.  GAUNT. 

"Nov.  8,  1882. — We  are  very  thankful  just  now  for 
dry  weather,  as  we  have  had  about  ten  days  without 
rain  ;  and  some  of  them  very  brilliant,  belonging  to 
the  true  character  of  Meran.  The  end  of  October  was 
awful ;  three  days  and  nights  of  incessant  rain,  which 
again  produced  floods,  and  every  provisional  means  to 
amend  the  former  devastation  was  again  destroyed, 


324  MARY  HO  WITT. 

carried  away  before  the  raging  waters,  and  much  more 
ruin  and  damage  produced  than  earlier.  People  in 
some  places  were  in  despair.  The  military,  who  had 
in  the  first  instance  been  so  helpful,  had  been  with- 
drawn from  most  of  these  quarters,  and  so  the  popula- 
tion, doing  what  they  could  single-handed,  left  the  rest 
to  chance. 

"  In  Bruneck,  the  cemetery  was  overflowed  and  the 
dead  carried  out  of  their  graves  ;  the  burial-vaults  of 
families,  which  had  been  built  as  if  to  last  for  centuries, 
were  washed  away,  almost  like  houses  of  cards.  Some 
families,  at  the  first  alarm  of  danger,  removed  their 
dead.  It  has  been  truly  an  awful  time.  Dr.  James 
Young  of  Kelly,  the  discoverer  of  paraffine,  has  sent 
me  ,£100  for  the  relief  of  the  inundated.  May  our 
dear  Lord  bless  him  for  it !  The  Austrian  Government, 
which  is  not  rich,  has  sent  large  relief.  But  this  second 
flood  has  destroyed  the  work  which  the  Government 
grant  enabled  the  various  local  authorities  to  effect." 

To  Miss  LETGH  SMITH. 

"Dec.  4,  1882. — Thank  you  for  your  kind  cheque 
for  poor  Welsberg,  the  condition  of  which  has  become 
much  sadder  since  the  letter  I  wrote  you.  I  should 
like  to  send  you  an  account  which  appeared  in  the 
Kolnische  Zeitung,  by  the  Baroness  Alexandra  von 
Schleinitz,  a  wonderfully  gifted  young  woman,  who, 
with  her  mother  and  sister,  were  at  Bruneck  at  the 
beginning  of  these  sorrows ;  and  speaks  now  of  the 
misery  and  desolation  there,  and  above  all  at  poor 
Welsberg.  She  is  a  calm,  intellectual  woman,  yet  she 
says  that  really  nothing  seems  to  remain  to  the  home- 
less, desolate  people  but  to  become  insane  !  " 


1882-88.] 


IN  THE  ETERNAL  CITY. 


325 


To  MRS.  ALFRED  WATTS. 

"  Schloss  Pallaus,  Brixen,  Feb.  13,  1883. — We  have 
arrived  here  quite  safely  after  a  most  prosperous  journey  ; 
looking,  however,  with  extreme  and  sorrowful  interest 
at  the  dreadful  havoc  caused  by  the  inundations,  which 
has  transformed  the  once-smiling,  although  grand  valley 
of  the  Eisack  into  a  gloomy,  desolate  defile.  Baron 
Schonberg  was  waiting  for  his  guests  at  the  Brixen 
railway  station,  with  various  conveyances,  and  we  drove 
by  quite  a  new  route  to  Pallaus  ;  the  bridge  over  the 
Eisack  having  been  swept  away.  We  came  here  into 
Alpine  scenery,  for  within  the  last  few  days  snow  has 
fallen  here  abundantly ;  yet,  the  wind  being  in  the 
south,  the  air  is  quite  mild." 

To  THE  SAME. 

"Pallaus,  Feb.  15,  1883. — We  went  yesterday  on  our 
Confirmation  errand  to  the  Prince-Bishop  of  Brixen.  It 
was  all  veiy  beautiful  and  solemn,  but  not  at  all  sad. 

I,  the  old,  old  woman,  Mrs.  W ,  and  Alice — three 

generations,  as  it  were — received  the  rite.  The  ceremony 
was  in  the  private  chapel  of  the  palace,  and  when  it  was 
over  the  Bishop  received  us  all  in  one  of  his  grand 
yet  simply-furnished  old  rooms.  The  party  consisted  of 

Ernst  and  Bessie  von  Schonberg,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  W , 

Alice,  Meggie,  and  myself,  Dr.  Mitterrutzner,  Director 
of  the  Brixen  Gymnasium,  Father  Paul,  and  Mr.  Basil 
Wilberforce.  It  is  a  pleasure  to  us  that  Alfred  saw 
Mr.  Wilberforce,  whom  we  consider  one  of  our  especial 
friends.  Although  the  weather  had  been  for  several 
days  misty  and  cloudy,  the  sun  was  by  this  time  shining. 
As  I  was  driving  with  Bessie  out  of  the  court  of  the 
Bishop's  palace,  the  letter-bag  was  put  into  the  carriage, 


326  MARY  HO  WITT.  [CH.  ix. 

and  a  most  kind,  affectionate  letter  from  my  dear 
Australian  children  was  handed  me.  It  seemed  to 
come  like  a  recognition  of  approval  and  satisfaction 
from  a  Power  higher  than  merely  earthly  contrivance. 
What  a  warm,  loving  reply  I  shall  send  by  the  next 
mail ! " 

To  THE  SAME. 

"  Marienruhe,  Feb.  24,  1883. — Here  we  are  at  home 
again.  The  goodness,  care,  and  loving  providence  of 
our  blessed  Lord  is  something  untold  and  unimaginable. 
We  did  so  wish  you  could,  at  the  time,  have  known  with 
what  cheerful,  thankful  hearts  we  all  went  through  those 
muddy,  flood-destroyed  roads  at  Brixen.  It  was  really  a 
journey  of  pleasure ;  and  those  dear  young  von  Schon- 
bergs  rejoicing  over  it,  and  giving  thanks,  as  all  the  rest 
did.  Another  thing  I  must  mention  is  the  great  kind- 
ness of  everybody  at  Meran.  Our  dear  neighbours,  the 
Miss  Pembertons,  and  good  Mr.  Marke  especially  wel- 
come us  back  most  cordially.  So,  too,  our  other  neigh- 
bours. I  feel  very  grateful  to  one  and  all." 

To  THE  SAME. 

"Feb.  25,  1883. — The  whole  of  the  little  journey,  with 
its  varied  details,  was  so  completely  one  beautiful  succes- 
sion of  harmonious  links  of  love,  that  nothing  could  have 
been  more  perfect.  Nothing,  too,  that  I  ever  experienced 
or  hoped  for  is  so  sweet,  tender,  and  real  as  what  I  now 
feel  in  my  soul.  Give  thanks  for  me  that  there  are 
times,  but  only  now  and  then,  just  now  and  then,  when 
I  feel  the  reality  of  the  spiritual  life,  and  even  its  near- 
ness, with  such  intense  love  and  gratitude  to  the  Lord 
that  I  could  almost  weep  for  joy." 


1882-88.]  IN  THE  ETERNAL  CITY.  327 

To  THE  SAME. 

"Easter-Sunday,  March  25,  1883. — A  Happy  Alleluia 
to  you  !  This  is  the  paschal  greeting  which  friend  gives 
friend  here  in  Catholic  Tyrol.  Father  Paul  and  dear, 
kind  Caroline  Schmid  came  on  Easter-eve  to  wish  us  it. 

"  I  have  been  with  Meggie  and  Alice  to  the  parish 
church  this  morning,  to  High  Mass.  It  was  very  beauti- 
ful and  stately.  The  church,  which  is  said  to  hold  four 
thousand,  was  quite  full,  even  the  aisles,  with  praying  men, 
women,  and  children — those  dear  little  observant  children, 
some  not  above  five  years  old,  all  attention,  and  kneeling 
with  small  clasped  hands.  Then  the  rapt  silence  and 
devotion  of  such  an  assembly.  At  the  more  solemn  por- 
tions of  the  service,  when  all  regard  the  Lord  as  present, 
and  every  man,  woman,  and  child  is  kneeling,  there 
is  not  a  sound,  not  a  head  turned  as  with  curiosity  to 
look  about.  It  was  this  morning  as  silent  as  if  nobody 
was  there.  This,  I  think,  is  the  most  wonderful  feature 
of  Catholic  devotion.  I,  who  am  so  sensitive  to  outward 
influences,  find  this  mute  attention  of  all  around  me  most 
comfortable.  Well,  having  said  this  much,  and  again 
offered  dear  Alfred  and  you  my  salutation  of  a  Happy 
Alleluia,  I  will  proceed  to  the  next  joyful  subject,  to 
Kaphael  Weldon's  wedding,  which  was  in  the  best  style 
of  taste  ;  and  both  bride  and  bridegroom  very  remarkable 
young  people.  She,  with  her  Girton  honours,  has  a  rank 
in  intellectual  culture  equal  to  one-half,  at  least,  of  the 
men  who  leave  our  universities." 

To  THE  SAME. 

"April  6,  1883.— Let  me  go  back  to  the  day  before 
yesterday,  when  we  had  our  London  guests.  Mr. 
Woodall  remained  at  home  with  me,  answering  all  my 


328  MAKY  HO  WITT.  [CH.  ix. 

questions  about  everything  in  the  political  and  public 
world  that  we  are  interested  in.  Of  course,  he  answered 
and  explained  all  from  his  point  of  view,  looking  at 
everything  with  much  more  favourable  inferences  and 
opinions  than  we  probably  should.  He  does  not  fear 
Fenian  malice  and  revenge.  It  is  only  an  epidemic  in 
Ireland,  he  thinks,  such  as  occurs  again  and  again,  and 
then  passes  away.  He  likewise  thinks  well  of  the  Salva- 
tion Army.  The  results  of  its  labours  in  the  Potteries 
seem  wonderful.  He  has  presided  at  its  meetings,  and 
upholds  it  warmly. 

"  Well,  all  the  time  Mr.  Woodall  was  indoctrinating  my 
mind  on  these  subjects,  Meggie  and  Alice  were  in  the  town 
with  genial  Mr.  Harry  Furniss,  who  was  photographing  ; 
not  *  versing  or  prosing  it,'  but  '  picturesquing  it  every- 
where.' They  showed  him  the  old  Burg,  the  town-house 
of  Margaret  Maultasch,  with  all  its  quaint  old  furniture, 
with  which  he  was  delighted.  They  stopped  old  men, 
old  women,  children,  everything  that  was  effective,  posed 
them,  got  up  groups  instanter ;  all  were  photographed, 
and  people  were  delighted.  It  was  the  merriest,  most 
amusing  morning.  Mr.  Furniss  lives  at  the  bottom  of 
the  Avenue  Road,  in  a  house  that  was  not  built,  I  think, 
in  our  time.  He  has  joined  this  Royal  Commission  of 
Inquiry  into  Technical  Education,  not  at  their  expense, 
but  his  own,  and  gives  a  most  amusing  account  of  the 
very  hard  work  it  has  been  to  him.  They  posted  on,  and 
he  wanted  to  stay ;  and  they  said,  '  Now  look,  Furniss, 
here  is  a  magnificent  scene  for  you.  Take  it  all  into 
your  mind,  make  notes  of  it,  and  you'll  have  a  splendid 
picture ! '  But  that  is  not  what  he  wants,  but  rather 
what  he  has  been  doing  in  Meran  this  morning :  getting 
true  little  bits  of  picturesqueness  that  abound  here,  and 


1882-88.]  IN  THE  ETERNAL  CITY.  329 

which  could  never  be  imagined.  We  wanted  him  to 
stay  a  day  or  two  with  us,  as  he  found  Meran  such  a 
peculiarly  pictorial  place,  and  then  catch  up  his  com- 
panions farther  on  the  tour ;  but  he  thought  it  wisest 
not  to  part  from  them. 

"The  secretary  of  the  Commission  is  Mr.  Gilbert  Eed- 
grave,  whose  father  I  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  at 
Liverpool  many  years  ago.  He  has  kindly  sent  me  word 
through  Mr.  Woodall  that  my  '  Steadfast  Gabriel '  in- 
fluenced his  early  career. 

"  Yesterday  came  one  of  the  most  beautiful  and  affect- 
ing letters  I  ever  read.  It  was  a  farewell  from  the 
Bishop  of  Argyll,  now  lying  hopelessly  ill  at  Brighton. 
Reflecting  on  the  very  pleasant,  friendly  intercourse 
which  subsisted  for  so  many  years,  we  feel  this  grief 
still  more  acutely.  I  am  sorry  to  conclude  with  so  sad 
a  topic." 

To  THE  SAME. 

"Meran,  May  6,  1883. — We  have  been  to  our  little 
church  of  St.  George ;  and  then  we  went,  with  hundreds 
of  other  people,  to  see  a  very  great  procession  of  the 
'  Schiitsen-Verein,'  a  word  which  sounds  much  better  than 
when  translated  into  English — 'Sharp-shooters'  Brigade.' 
The  Tyrolers,  like  the  Swiss,  pride  themselves  on  their 
skill  in  shooting,  as  you  know.  This  was  a  large 
general  meeting  of  all  classes,  and  was  made  an  exact 
reproduction  of  the  peasantry,  who  at  the  beginning  of 
this  century  kept  watch  and  ward,  and  fought  under 
Hofer  in  defence  of  Tyrol  and  the  Emperor.  There  were 
several  hundred  volunteers  in  various  national  costumes 
— which  were  the  same  with  shades  of  difference— and  in 
many  cases  very  old,  dating  from  the  commencement  of 


330  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  ix. 

the  century ;  such  old  breeches,  coats,  and  hats  as  Mayr- 
am-Hof  can  turn  out;  and  such  old  weapons,  rude, 
savage  battleaxes,  pikes,  spears,  and  halberds ;  and  queer 
grotesque  weapons  like  short  scythes  on  the  top  of  poles. 
As  to  guns,  they  were  wonderful.  Each  district  sent  its 
troop,  with  their  banners,  some  very  old,  tattered,  and 
torn  ;  others  beautiful,  with  their  rich  old  faded  colours. 
It  was  quite  touching ;  and  every  now  and  then  one  saw 
a  something  which  stirred  the  poetry  within  one  and 
sent  a  choking  feeling  into  one's  throat,  so  that  one  could 
not  say  anything  for  fear  of  crying.  I  remember  when 
many  things  touched  me  in  this  way ;  but  thought  I 
was  now  quite  too  old  to  feel  in  this  emotional  manner. 
It  was  like  the  old  war-horse  being  excited  by  the  sound 
of  the  trumpet ;  or  rather  our  poor  pony  Peggy,  at 
Esher,  going  off  at  a  canter  when  the  fox-hunters  came 
by  on  Bookham  Common.  I  smile  at  myself  as  I  write 
this,  to  think  of  me  and  my  old  emotion." 

To  MRS.  W . 

"  Dietenheim,  July  4,   1883.— Your  letter  has  awoke 
the  deepest  sympathy  in  our  hearts.     What  can  we  say 

to  you  as   regards  Miss  's   resolute   rejection  of  a 

faithful  old  friend  ?  I  can  really  say  nothing,  excepting 
that  assuredly  she  never  needed  more  the  earnest  prayers 
of  her  rejected  friend.  We  grieve  for  you,  but  it  is 

Miss  ,  poor  dear  lady  !   who  needs  our  pity.     You 

can  do  nothing  but  accept  the  silence  she  has  enjoined 
and  imposed  upon  you ;  and  you  and  your  good  Catholic 
friends  must  pray  for  her  enlightenment.  In  this  spirit 
you  will  feel  no  bitterness  against  her.  Indeed,  the 
only  real  injury  that  her  rejection  of  your  friendship 
could  do  you  would  be  the  awakening  of  bitterness 


i882-88.]  IN  THE  ETERNAL  CITY.  33I 

and  anger  in  your  heart.  That  you  will  never  feel ; 
but,  instead,  a  tender,  earnest  yearning  for  her  en- 
lightenment, which,  in  the  Divine  Mercy,  may  have 
influence  upon  her,  and  in  any  case  will  bring  you 
nearer  to  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord.  You,  in  this  respect, 
are  nearer  to  the  experience  of  the  true  disciple  than 
I  am.  You  are  called  upon  to  make  a  sacrifice  for  the 
Blessed  Lord  and  His  Truth ;  that  is  what  He  antici- 
pates for  His  faithful  followers.  Therefore,  dear  friend, 
buckle  on  your  armour,  as  it  were,  and  stand  truly 
prepared  for  what  comes.  Be  ready  for  the  combat. 
Give  all  up  to  God,  and  leave  the  end  to  Him !  We 
pray  that  strength  may  be  granted  you  for  all  trials, 
and  that  the  peace  of  God  may  abide  with  you.  The 
Great  Helper  is  on  your  side.  Fear  not.  Do  boldly 
that  which  has  to  be  done." 

To  MRS.  ALFRED  WATTS. 

"  Dietenheim,  July  22,  1883. — We  have  been  to 
church  at  the  Ursulines'  ;  Anton  driving  us,  as  he 
always  does  on  Sunday  mornings.  While  we  are  at 
Mass  he  fetches  our  letters,  which  we  then  have  the 
pleasure  of  reading.  In  yours  of  to-day  you  speak  of 
the  death  of  our  Hofbauers  brother.  Your  prayer  for 
the  dear  old  soul  is  quite  Catholic  ;  the  usual  words 
being,  'Eternal  rest  give  to  him,  O  Lord.  Let  per- 
petual light  shine  upon  him.  May  he  rest  in  peace ! ' 
This,  I  truly  believe,  will  be  Onkel  Johann's  state. 
How  your  father  and  we  all  respected  him !  He  was 
seventy-nine  years  of  age,  yet  his  eyes  to  the  last  were 
those  of  a  young  man.  I  never  saw  such  an  old  face. 
He  had  been  no  reader;  he  worked  with  his  hands, 
and  knew  many  prayers  by  heart.  He  would  hold 


332  MARY  HOWITT.  [en.  ix. 

his  rosary  in  his  hard,  withered  old  hands,  and  live 
over  with  the  Blessed  Virgin  the  entire  life  of  Her 
Son,  as  he  watched  the  cows  in  the  fields,  and  seemed 
to  be  standing  in  vacant  idleness  there.  Many  peasants, 
especially  women  and  children,  have  wonderfully  pre- 
cious times  in  the  solitary  pastures,  when  tending  their 
cows  and  sheep.  Very  much  teaching  can  be  acquired 
out  of  the  rosary.  This  reminds  me  of  your  charm- 
ingly-painted and  beautiful  picture  which  we  have  of 
the  old  Munich  woman  in  church  telling  her  beads. 
It  is  one  of  the  most  tender  and  lovely  old  Catholic 
faces  that  I  ever  saw.  I  never  knew  how  true  it 
was  to  life,  and  what  a  depth  of  religious  experience  it 
expressed,  till  I  knew  what  the  rosary  is  to  the  simple, 
pious  Catholic.  I  never  shall  forget  the  countenance 
of  a  youth  of  perhaps  eighteen  who  knelt  by  me  one 
Sunday  in  the  Ursuline  church  last  summer.  He  was 
an  Italian,  a  navvy,  or  something  of  that  kind,  sun- 
burnt, and  with  coarse  and  hard  young  hands.  The 
rosary  was  round  them,  and  the  beads  passed  slowly 
through  the  clasped  fingers.  He  never  saw  me ;  he 
never  stirred.  His  countenance  was  beautiful ;  his  soul 
was  with  Mary  and  her  Divine  Son,  God  Himself. 
You  can  understand  how  I  could  not  help  praying 
that  his  prayers  might  be  heard  and  his  soul's  devotion 
be  accepted.  Your  old  woman  could  be  the  grand- 
mother of  that  youth." 

In  the  summer  of  1884  my  beloved  daughter  Annie, 
unknowing  it,  came  to  Dietenheim  to  die.  With  no 
revelation  of  the  approaching  parting,  she  and  I  were 
wont  to  sit,  at  her  favourite  hour  of  sunset,  on  the 
upper  balcony  of  Mayr-arn- Hof,  where  she  read  to 


i882-88.] 


IN  THE  ETERNAL  CITY. 


333 


me  "  The  Idylls  of  the  King,"  or  "  The  Holy  Grail " 
and  "  The  Passing  of  Arthur,"  and  finished  her  water- 
colour  sketch  of  the  quiet  village  street.  It  was  a 
fair  and  familiar  scene,  through  which,  a  few  evenings 
later,  the  mourning  inhabitants  carried  her  to  her  final 
resting-place  in  God's  Acre.  They  bore  her  under  the 
quaint  old  archway  of  the  village  church  to  her  grave 


ARCHWAY  OF  THE  VILLAGE  CHURCH. 


next  to  that  of  poor  Onkel  Johann,  when,  in  the 
hush  of  Nature,  the  evening  glow  illumined  the  moun- 
tain-tops and  twilight  spread  over  the  valley  and  lower 
slopes. 

On  the  common  above  both  the  churchyard  and 
Mayr-am-IIof,  near  the  old  crucifix,  where  we  have  all 
so  often  sat  to  enjoy  the  sunset,  a  granite  seat  for  way- 
farers had  been  erected.  It  was  often  visited  by  her  in 


334 


MARY  HOWITT. 


[CH.  IX. 


the  beautiful  closing  hours  of  her  pure  and  devoted 
life.  It  was  a  memento  to  her  beloved  father  from 
our  generous  friend,  Walter  Weldon,  who  has  also  gone 
to  his  rest  and  his  reward. 


THE  CRUCIFIX  ON  THE  COMMON. 


To  THE  BARONESS  ERNST  VON  SCHOXBERG-ROTH-SCHONBERG. 

"  Meran,  Dec.  22,  1884. — Now  that  the  shortest  day 
has  passed,  I  hope  the  lengthening  days  may  bring  your 
dear  sufferer  amending  health  and  joy  to  you  all. 

"  I  will  not  write  to  you  to-day  on  black-edged  paper, 


i832-88.]  IN  THE  ETERNAL  CITY.  335 

because  I  should  like,  if  God  so  willed  it,  to  come  to  you 
as  a  harbinger  of  peace  and  joy. 

"  We  have  had  Mass  in  our  little  Marienruhe  chapel. 
Meggie  and  I  have  taken  together  Holy  Communion. 
So  it  has  been  a  good  day  to  us,  and  the  first  thing  I 
do,  breakfast  being  over,  is  to  write  to  you." 

To  MRS.  GAUNT. 

"  Meran,  May  27,  1885. — We  have  had  an  unusually 
cold  and  broken  sort  of  winter  and  spring  here.  Just 
now,  within  the  last  week,  the  first  settled  and  true  Meran 
weather  has  set  in.  Nevertheless  endless  grandees  and 
royalties  have  been  here ;  and  notably  the  Duke  Charles 
Theodore  of  Bavaria,  brother  of  the  Empress  of  Austria, 
and  his  lovely  young  Duchess,  an  Infanta  of  Portugal. 
That  which  makes  them  especially  admirable  and  estim- 
able is,  that  he,  having  naturally  a  talent  for  surgery  and 
an  intense  interest  in  diseases  of  the  eyes,  has  devoted 
his  life  for  some  years  to  the  cure  of  the  blind,  princi- 
pally of  cataract.  He  has  a  hospital  for  the  purpose 
situated  near  his  palace  at  Tegernsee.  Being  himself 
out  of  health,  he  came  for  change  of  air  to  Meran ;  but 
the  fame  of  his  healing-power  having  preceded  him, 
the  blind  soon  presented  themselves  ;  and  he,  unable  to 
resist  their  appeal,  saw  them  and  began  to  operate  on 
them.  Others  came,  and  still  more  and  more,  from  all 
parts  of  Tyrol,  old  and  young,  mothers  with  their  chil- 
dren, tens,  twenties,  till  at  last  two  thousand  in  all  have 
come  to  him.  On  two  hundred  he  has  operated,  and 
nearly  always  successfully.  Even  old  men  wrho  have 
been  blind  for  ten  and  fifteen  years  have .  left  the  Meran 
hospital  seeing ;  two  wards  there  having  been  set  aside 
for  his  use. 


336  MARY  HO  WITT.  [CH.  ix. 

"  His  assistant  surgeon,  and  even  the  gracious  young 
Duchess  herself,  worked  with  him  ;  she  often  holding  the 
hands  of  the  poor  patients,  speaking  words  of  kind  en- 
couragement to  them,  and  giving  the  instruments  to  her 
husband  as  he  needed  them.  Anything  more  angelic  or 
Christ-like  than  this  cannot  be  imagined.  Our  Alice, 
who  has  been  in  the  habit  of  giving  her  services  in  the 
Meran  hospital,  has  been  the  eye-witness  of  these  pro- 
ceedings ;  and  every  evening  we  have  had  the  privilege 
of  assisting  her  to  prepare  the  bandages  for  the  next 
day's  use.  This  and  other  circumstances  which  are  not 
worth  mentioning  have  made  us  all  personally  acquainted 
with  these  excellent  people  ;  so  that  the  sweet  young 
Duchess,  her  three  little  daughters,  and  her  lady-in-wait- 
ing have  all  become  our  friends,  and  given  quite  a  grace 
and  beauty  to  Marienruhe.  Such  an  instance  of  pure 
Christian  love  as  that  exercised  by  this  royal  couple  has 
never  before  been  known  in  Meran.  Yesterday  they  left, 
with  the  blessings  of  all  following  them. 

"  Yesterday,  also,  we  parted  with  some  dear  Australian 
relatives,  whom  till  the  week  before  we  had  never  seen, 
and  whom  charmed  us  by  their  intelligence,  freshness  of 
spirit,  and  simplicity  of  taste  and  manner  of  life." 

To  MRS.  W . 

"Meran,  Dec.  6,  1885. — We  have  recently  had  some 
most  welcome  visitors,  who  came  for  a  week  to  Meran— 
Octavia  Hill's  sister,  Gertrude,  and  her  husband,  Charles 
Lewes,  the  son  of  the  well-known  writer  and  the  bio- 
grapher of  Goethe.  You  would  have  greatly  enjoyed, 
as  we  did,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lewes's  society.  They  are  very 
bright,  taking  an  active  part  in  all  good  and  useful 
efforts  for  human  improvement  and  well-being.  They 


1882-88.]  IN  THE  ETERNAL  CITY.  337 

and  her  sister  Octavia  have  been  working  very  hard  this 
last  summer  to  obtain  for  the  northern  side  of  London 
that  fine  addition  to  Hampstead  Heath,  Parliament  Hill, 
with  its  adjoining  land.  This  was  a  scheme  which  we 
also,  when  living  at  Highgate,  coveted  for  the  public, 
and  for  which  my  dear  husband  laboured,  but  feared  it 
would  never  be  obtained.  Now,  however,  through  unre- 
mitting efforts  and  unlooked-for  help,  it  seems  likely 
to  be  accomplished.  All  this  good  news  our  friends 
brought  us,  which  caused  us,  as  you  will  understand,  a 
great  rejoicing." 

To  THE  SAME. 

"  March  10,  1886. — We  have  now  some  excellent  friends 
visiting  Meran,  Mr.  Alphonso  Clifford  and  his  sister, 
Miss  Constantia.  They  are  most  earnest  Catholics  by 
birth  and  conviction,  and  connected  in  various  ways 
with  my  dear  old  county  of  Stafford.  They  often  come 
to  afternoon  tea.  Last  Friday  they  were  here,  and,  to 
our  pleasant  surprise,  Mr.  Wilberforce  walked  in ;  »just 
the  person  we  were  all  wishing  for. 

"Alice  goes  on  as  usual.  She  is  now  working  away 
for  the  strange,  solitary,  out -of -the -world  mountain 
village  of  Karthaus.  As  I  understand  the  situation, 
it  occupies  a  lofty  platform  of  rock  in  that  remote 
valley,  the  Schnalserthal.  It  wras,  as  its  name  implies, 
a  Carthusian  monastery  or  Charterhouse,  until  Joseph 
II.  dissolved  it,  dispersed  the  good  Brothers,  despoiled 
the  rich  church  and  library,  and  gave  up  the  place 
to  ruin.  Now  the  monastery  has  become  a  village, 
and  the  dwellings  of  the  Carthusian  cenobites  those 
of  peasants.  The  number  of  inhabitants  is  between 
one  and  two  hundred ;  but  there  are  a  few  scattered 

VOL.  n.  Y 


338  MAEY  HO  WITT.  [CH.  ix. 

farms  on  the  outskirts  and  in  the  bordering  glens, 
which  also  belong  to  the  parish  of  Karthaus.  The 
priest  is  an  enlightened  man,  but  the  people  themselves 
seem  to  belong  to  three  or  four  centuries  ago.  I 
never  heard,  even  in  other  secluded  parts  of  Tyrol, 
of  any  as  simple  and  primitive  as  these. 

"Alice  first  heard  of  the  place  from  the  Sister 
Superior  in  the  Meran  hospital,  and  learnt  that  two 
Sisters  of  Charity  had  gone  thither,  at  the  desire  of 
the  parish-priest,  to  nurse  and  tend  the  sick  and  poor, 
and  that  they,  the  Sisters,  had  nothing  at  all  to  begin 
with.  Alice  went  up,  in  consequence,  to  lofty  Karthaus 
to  visit  them,  and  the  result  has  been,  that  a  six- 
roomed  house  there  has  been  purchased  for  them. 
It  is  being  fitted  up  as  a  hospital,  and  will,  when  it 
is  finished  and  furnished,  be  a  very  nice  little  institu- 
tion. The  Countess  Hompesch  and  other  charitable 
well-wishers  have  sent  up  supplies.  Frau  Perwanger, 
the  bonnet-maker,  has  been  most  active  and  energetic 
in  the  good  work.  She  has  interested  her  customers 
and  friends ;  and  this  has  caused  beds  and  bedding, 
pots  and  pans,  being  sent  here,  till  our  ironing-room 
downstairs  resembled  a  furniture  warehouse. 

"  Everything  has  now  been  carried  off  and  up  to  Kar- 
thaus, where  Alice  has  gone,  and  will  return  on  Friday ; 
leaving  all,  I  expect,  in  a  comfortable  state  of  progress." 

To  Miss  LEIGH  SMITH. 

" Dietenheim,  Aug.  n,  1886. — We  owe  you  such 
warm  thanks  for  the  books.  Alfred  is  delighted  with 
the  '  Vulture  Maiden '  (which  describes  the  life  and 
people  adjacent  to  Karthaus).  He  thinks  it  splendid. 
I  am  more  deeply  interested  than  I  can  tell  you  in 


1882-88.] 


IN  THE  ETERNAL  CITY. 


339 


'All  Sorts  and  Conditions  of  Men.'  It  is  the  first 
by  Besant  that  I  have  read.  It  affects  me  like  the 
perfected  fruit  of  some  glorious  tree  which  my  dear 
husband  and  I  had  a  dim  dream  of  planting  more 
than  thirty  years  ago,  and  which  we  did,  in  our 
ignorance  and  incapacity,  attempt  to  plant  in  soil  not 
properly  prepared,  and  far  too  early  in  the  season. 
I  cannot  tell  you,  dear  Nannie,  how  it  has  recalled 
the  hopes  and  dreams  of  a  time  which,  by  the  over- 
ruling providence  of-  God,  was  so  disastrous  to  us.  It 
is  a  beautiful  essay  on  the  dignity  of  labour." 

To  MRS.  OLDHAM. 

"  Dietenheim,  Aug.  27,  1886.— Few  letters  could 
touch  my  heart  or  be  as  kindred  to  my  spirit  as  the 
one  you  kindly  sent  me  a  month  ago.  Alfred  Watts 
was  with  us  when  it  came ;  and  he  was  as  glad  as  we 
were  to  have  news  of  you. 

"  Sept.  4. — I  left  the  above  unfinished,  and  have 
since  then  written  no  letter,  having  taken  a  severe 
cold. 

"  It  is  quite  a  comfort  to  me  to  know  that  you  are 
still  at  Kingston.  Though  I  have  never  been  to  your 
house  there,  our  beloved  Annie  had.  But  do  not 
imagine,  dear  friend,  that  I  cannot  understand  what 
it  is  you  miss,  even  with  the  river,  the  old  palace 
and  the  stately  gardens  of  Hampton  Court  at  hand. 
You  miss  exactly  that  which  gave  the  living  charm 
and  interest  to  all  that  surrounds  you.  I  understand 
it  perfectly. 

"We  are  having  here  a  very  fine  summer.  The 
harvest  seems  to  be  well  got  in,  and  the  peasant- 


340  MARY  HOWITT.  [CH.  ix. 

people  are  all  advancing  into  a  state  of  great  ex- 
pectation and  excitement  in  prospect  of  five  days  of 
magnificent  military  manoeuvres  which  take  place  here 
in  the  middle  of  this  month  in  the  presence  of  the 
Emperor  of  Austria  and  his  entire  staff.  He  has 
never  been  to  Bruneck  for  forty-two  years,  and  then 
only  for  one  night,  on  a  journey  he  was  making,  as 
a  boy,  with  his  two  little  brothers,  Carl  Ludwig  and 
Maximilian,  under  the  charge  of  their  tutor,  and  when 
there  seemed  no  chance  of  his  ever  being  Emperor. 
Military  manoeuvres  of  one  kind  or  another  take  place 
here  every  autumn ;  but  those  this  year  will  surpass 
in  importance  all  preceding  ones.  Twice  this  old 
Mayr-am-Hof,  which  is  a  conspicuous  object  on  this 
side  the  valley,  has  been  made  the  special  point  of 
attack  by  one  party,  and  consequently  of  defence  by 
the  other;  so  if  now,  in  this  Imperial  inspection  of 
the  troops,  it  is  used  for  the  same  purpose,  it  will  give 
us  an  especial  interest  in  at  least  one  day's  work. 

"  We  have  been  reading  with  enjoyment  Mr.  Froude's 
'  Oceana.'  We  much  approve  of  his  very  strong  desire 
that  our  colonies  should,  like  good,  faithful,  well-trained 
children,  be  staunch  in  love  and  service  to  old  Mother 
England.  How  deeply  we  feel  on  this  subject  I  cannot 
tell  you ;  and  I  hope  and  trust  that  you  join  strongly  in 
this  truly  English  sentiment. 

"  I  am  quite  a  fixture  to  the  house,  as  I  cannot  walk 
any  distance.  Still,  before  I  had  this  bad  cold  I  spent  a 
portion  of  each  day  out  of  doors,  sitting  under  the  wide- 
spreading  trees  by  the  old  closed  gateway,  which  you 
will  find  in  this  September  number  of  Good  Words — 
as  drawn  by  dear  Annie — in  the  last  chapter  of  the  '  Re- 


i882-88.]  IN  THE  ETERNAL  CITY.  34I 


PRIVATE  NOTES. 

1  Sept.  6. — My  cold  makes  me  a  complete  captive  to 
my  room." 

"Sept.  8. — As  I  am  worse,  Dr.  Erlacher  is  sent  for, 
who  thinks  seriously  of  my  case." 

"Sept.  ii. — Still  worse.  The  doctor  comes  twice; 
and  Father  Flavian  said  Mass  for  me  in  the  chapel." 

"Sept.  1 6. — I  am  better.  This  day  the  Emperor  ar- 
rived in  Bruneck." 

MAEGARET  HOWITT  TO  Miss  LEIGH  SMITH. 

"  Dietenheim,  Sept.  24,  1886. — I  cannot  let  another 
day  pass  without  telling  you  how  much  better  my 
mother  is.  The  doctor  now  speaks  quite  hopefully ; 
and  although,  in  her  present  weak  condition,  there 
seems  little  likelihood  of  an  immediate  return  to  Meran, 
we  can  now  dare  to  hope  that  we  may  take  her  back 
before  the  cold  weather  sets  in. 

"  We  have  had  the  Emperor  Franz  Josef  and  four 
Archdukes  in  Bruneck  from  last  Thursday  night  until 
Tuesday  afternoon.  On  Tuesday  morning,  he,  his  rela- 
tives, and  the  military  suite  watched  the  sham-fighting 
for  two  hours  from  the  fields  belonging  to  Mayr-am-Hof 
and  from  the  crucifix  just  above  on  the  common.  He 
allowed  the  villagers  to  stand  with  him  to  see  the 
manoeuvres,  and  our  cook  and  housemaid  being  of  the 
company,  returned  indoors  quite  enchanted ;  Josefa  pro- 
nouncing it  'the  treat  of  a  lifetime.'  They  and  Anton, 
moreover,  had  the  gratification  of  hearing  the  Emperor 


342  MAKY  HOWITT.  [CH.  ix. 

admire  the  outside  of  Mayr-am-Hof,  which  was  made 
festive  with  flags  of  the  Austrian  and  Tyrolean  colours. 
He  spoke  of  the  house  to  an  aide-de-camp  as  '  grossartig' 
The  Pusterthalers  are  doubly  loyal,  from  the  sympathy 
and  the  substantial  aid  given  them  by  their  sovereign  at 
the  time  of  the  floods.  Knowing,  therefore,  his  liking 
for  costume,  they  put  on  wonderful  old  attire  belonging 
to  their  forefathers  to  appear  before  him  last  Sunday  on 
the  shooting-ground.  We  can  see  the  spot,  with  its  belt  of 
fir-trees,  across  the  meadows ;  and  the  weather  being  as 
brilliant  as  the  uniforms  and  the  peasant-costumes,  the 
glimpses  gained  at  the  distance  resembled  some  won- 
derful ballet.  Had  my  mother  only  been  well,  it  would 
have  been  a  charming  episode.  She  will,  however,  enjoy 
hearing  of  it  when  she  is  better." 

MARY  HOWITT  TO  THE  SAME. 

"  Marienruhe,  Oct.  23,  1886. — Restored  to  health  by 
the  loving  mercy  of  God,  I  wish  gratefully  and  affection- 
ately to  acknowledge  your  many  kind  letters  of  inquiry 
and  sympathy  throughout  my  late  illness.  I  had  no  pain, 
and  I  have  heard  that  old  people  often  pass  away  without 
any  suffering.  However,  I  know  well  that  I  was  very  ill ; 
that  a  medical  man  came  regularly  to  see  me  ;  that  a  dear, 
kind  Sister  of  Charity  attended  me  in  the  night,  allowing 
Margaret  or  Alice  to  rest.  But  oh !  how  can  I  tell  you 
the  sweet  calm  all  this  time?  for  I  felt  assured  that  I 
was  about  to  pass  away  into  the  other  life,  which  seemed 
to  me  perfectly  natural. 

"  I  wonder,  dear  Nannie,  whether  you  and  Isabella 
are  acquainted  with  that  little  work  of  Cardinal  New- 
man's, '  The  Dream  of  Gerontius.'  It  is  a  great  favourite 
of  mine,  and  I  know  all  its  incidents  perfectly.  If  you 


1882-88.]  IN  THE  ETERNAL  CITY.  343 

know   it   you   will    remember    where    the    dying    man 
says  — 

'  I  fain  would  sleep  ; 

The  pain  has  wearied  me.  .  .  .  Into  Thy  hands, 
0  Lord,  into  Thy  hands.'  .  .  . 

At  that  passage  one  understands  that  the  soul  leaves 
the  body.  I  felt  that  I  was  at  that  stage  after  I  had 
received  what  is  called  'Extreme  Unction,'  a  solemn 
but  beautiful  occasion.  It  seemed  to  me— only  please 
to  remember  that  I  am  not  sure  whether  I  was  in  the 
full  possession  of  my  mind,  for  it  is  all  to  me  like  a 
wonderful,  sweet  dream — that  I  closed  my  eyes  after  it 
to  sleep,  but  not,  as  Gerontius,  to  wake  in  the  other  life, 
but  rather  gradually  by  soft  degrees  to  full  conscious- 
ness and  returning  health  and  an  abiding  peace  of  mind. 
I  was  there — old  Mary  Howitt  again— just  myself.  If 
that  short  illness  had  not  reduced  me  almost  to  skin  and 
bone,  with  scarcely  ability  to  turn  myself  in  bed,  I  should 
have  thought  it  a  dream  or  some  sort  of  strange  delusion. 
I  am  thankful  to  know  it  was  real.  I  assuredly  believe 
that  the  wonderful  power  of  Catholic  prayer,  not  for  my 
life,  but  for  the  fulfilment  of  God's  will,  whether  I  were 
to  live  or  die,  prevailed,  and  that  for  some  purpose  or 
other  I  was  raised  up  again.  This  seems  arrogant,  does 
it  not  ?  I  feel  it  so ;  and  yet  it  is  to  me  so  wonderful. 
And  I  like  you  to  know  how  marvellously  the  dear 
Lord  has  dealt  with  me ;  and  what  an  angel,  what 
a  true  Sister  of  Mercy,  night  and  day,  was  Alice  by 
my  bed. 

"  We  are  not  at  all  surprised  by  what  you  tell  us  of  the 
changes  in  Home.  How  detestable  they  are !  I  fancy 
the  end  is  not  yet  come.  I  suppose  the  intention  is  to 
destroy  everything  venerable  and  sacred.  We  are  very 


344  MAKY  HO  WITT.  [OH.  ix. 

thankful  that  Caroline  Higgins,  dear  industrious  soul ! 
is  prospering.  Give  our  love  to  her,  please,  and  tell  her 
that  she  has  a  very  affectionate  place  in  our  memories." 

To  Miss  LLOYD  JONES. 

"  Marienruhe,  Jan.  8,  1887. — Your  letter,  wIiTch  arrived 
duly  on  New  Year's  Day,  gave  us  great  pleasure  and 
interested  us  much.  There  was  sorrow  and  anxiety  in 
it,  as  it  spoke  of  the  events  of  the  closing  year ;  but 
all  was  made  bright  and  beautiful  by  the  love  and 
fatherly  care  of  the  dear  Lord.  The  greatest  sorrow  of 
all,  the  death  of  the  precious  little  nephew,  was  changed 
into  a  sweet  memory  by  the  beautiful  spirit  of  the  de- 
parted. 

"  You  mention  that  Mrs.  Goode  has  sent  me  a  parcel 
by  post.  Can  this  be  two  Birthday-books  which  reached 
me  ten  days  before  Christmas — new  books,  intended  as 
presents  from  a  mother  to  her  children  ?  One  was 
inscribed  '  Leslie  Pepys  ; '  the  other,  '  Guy  Leslie  Pepys.' 
The  paper  of  the  parcel  was  torn ;  the  postmark  was 
indistinct.  There  was  no  letter  or  card  with  them,  nor 
have  I  received  any.  We,  of  course,  supposed  that  it  was 
wished  that  I  should  write  my  name  and  date  of  my 
birth  in  them,  which  I  would  gladly  do;  but  where  to 
return  them  we  have  not  the  least  idea.  If  you  can 
help  us  in  this  difficulty  we  shall  be  much  obliged." 

To  MES.  GAUNT. 

"March  21,  1887. — It  was  just  like  you  not  to  forget 
my  birthday ;  and  I  think  that  altogether  it  was  one  of 
the  pleasantest  possible  for  an  old  woman.  It  seemed 
as  if  nobody  forgot  me,  either  near  or  remote ;  and  with 
quantities  of  flowers  and  plants,  which  will  continue 


i882-88.J 


IN  THE  ETERNAL  CITY. 


345 


ornaments  to  our  rooms  and  lovely  memorials  quite  into 
summer  or  later.  Your  dear,  sweet  violets  from  my 
husband's  grave  will  be  amongst  the  fragrant  realities 
for  years  to  come ;  longer,  no  doubt,  than  I  shall  remain 
to  treasure  them. 

"  It  was  so  pleasant  to  hear  of  your  doings  in  Rome 
and  its  neighbourhood,  going  down  to  Porto  d'Anzio 
and  paying  a  visit  to  the  Villa  Livia ;  two  places  which 
we  remember  well,  and  which  have  each  their  little 
events  belonging  to  them  in  our  experience.  We  have 
an  immense  love  of  Rome,  which  will  remain  with  us  as 
long  as  we  live.  In  fact,  it  is  very  seriously  in  our  mind 
to  spend  the  coming  late  autumn  and  winter  in  Home, 
to  go  off  to  the  old  city,  whether  for  life  or  death,  and 
where,  dear  friend,  I  have  a  home." 

To  MARGARET  HOWITT,  AT  ROME. 

"  Marienruhe,  June  21,  1887. — Another  day  is  over 
now  ;  that  the  longest,  and  our  Queen's  Jubilee.  I  wonder 
how  they  have  gone  on  in  London  and  all  over  England. 
Our  Union  Jack  is  up,  and  makes  a  great  show.  I  rose 
in  good  time  and  went  to  Mass  in  the  parish-church. 
On  my  way  back,  when  passing  over  the  Roman  bridge, 
there  was  Father  Paul  coming  up  the  opposite  path 
under  the  trees,  looking  pale  and  suffering.  He  has 
been  ill  and  confined  to  his  bed,  but  being  able  to  say 
Mass  this  morning,  he,  a  Tyroler  Benedictine,  remem- 
bered our  Queen's  Jubilee,  and  made  it  his  intention. 
He  was  now  walking  up  to  Marienruhe.  I  could  tell 
him  somewhat  of  the  great  doings  in  London ;  the 
Queen  intending  to  go  through  it  all  like  a  Queen. 

"  Count  and  Countess  Hompesch  and  our  other 
friends  and  neighbours  are  most  kind  in  looking  in 


346  MARY  HO  WITT.  [CH.  ix. 

upon  me.  Dear  Ernst,  too,  has  been  over.  He  spent  part 
of  Friday  with  me,  and  we  had  a  charming  time  together. 

"  This  morning  I  have  received  a  deeply  interesting 
letter  from  the  Countess  Clam-Martinic,  giving  touching 
details  of  the  death  of  her  husband  in  Prague.  It 
was  unexpected,  and  thus  she  was  at  church  when  he 
passed  away.  He  kissed  his  crucifix,  spoke  the  name 
of  Jesus,  then  her  name ;  and  all  was  over,  without 
agony  or  suffering  of  any  kind.  I  am  treasuring  up 
for  your  return  two  splendid  passages  from  the  Count's 
will,  which  were  printed  in  '  Das  Vaterland.'  I  think 
them  the  most  beautiful  evidence  of  a  noble  Christian 
that  I  ever  read.  What  a  privilege  it  is  to  have 
known  such  a  statesman ! 

"  Ernst  and  I  both  hope  that  you  and  Alice  have 
been  able  to  see  Father  Douglas.  May  the  blessed 
Angels  be  with  you  !  Have  no  anxiety  about  me  ;  only 
give  thanks  for  the  old  mother  and  grandmother." 

To  MRS.  GAUNT. 

"  Marienruhe,  July  15,  1887. — Yes,  dear  friend,  what 
a  pity  it  is  that  you  are  not  going  this  year  to  Rome, 
instead  of  last ;  at  least  for  us  !  It  will  be,  as  you 
may  naturally  suppose,  a  very  interesting  winter  to  be 
there,  and  many  of  our  friends  will  be  there  also, 
which  will  be  particularly  agreeable.  Margaret  and 
Alice  seem  to  me  to  have  managed  their  business  very 
speedily  and  satisfactorily,  for  we  shall  again  be  in  the 
old  familiar  and  beloved  neighbourhood,  just  by  the 
Pincio.  Fortunately,  too,  the  spirit  of  new  Rome  has 
not  penetrated  into  that  neighbourhood  as  ruthlessly 
as  elsewhere,  so  that  in  one  way  it  is  almost  like  going 
home  again. 


1882-88.]  IN  THE  ETERNAL  CITY.  347 

"I  am,  as  I  think  you  are  aware,  very  fond  of  York- 
shire, and  have  a  particular  regard  and  love  for  all 
the  Yorkshire  people  I  have  known  and  proudly  call 
my  friends.  Therefore  it  has  been  a  real  pleasure  to 
us  to  become  acquainted  with  Mr.  John  Ltipton  and 
his  family  from  Leeds.  The  publication  of  my  'Remi- 
niscences '  in  Good  Words,  and  Miss  Linskill's  contri- 
butions to  the  same  periodical,  had  led  to  her  and 
my  corresponding,  and  our  becoming  much  interested 
in  each  other.  She  was  travelling  on  the  Continent 
with  her  friends  the  Luptons  ;  and  as  they  came  to 
Meran,  we  of  course  saw  them  while  here.  We  were 
delighted  to  have  them  ;  and  what  a  great  deal  of  talk 
we  had  !  How  nobly  Christian,  original,  pure,  manly 
and  good  were  all  his  views  of  life  !  You  will  know 
of  them,  if  you  do  not  know  them  personally.  So 
much  for  one  of  the  visits  we  have  had  this  summer 
in  our  little  Marienruhe." 

To  Miss  CLIFFORD. 

"Meran,  Aug.  26,  1887. — We  now  can  count  only 
a  few  weeks  longer  at  Marienruhe.  However,  we  shall 
be,  with  the  Divine  blessing,  at  Rome,  and  that  will  be 
all  right.  But  I  confess  that  to  me,  old  as  I  am,  and 
now  so  little  accustomed  to  taking  any  journeys,  it 
seems  rather  like  a  great  undertaking.  Father  Paul, 
who  was  allowed  to  see  your  very  pleasant  letter,  is 
now  again  at  Meran,  and  will  take  back  with  him  this 
evening  The  Tablet;  and  I  must  tell  you  the  great 
pleasure  we  have  had  in  reading  the  conversation  given 
in  it  by  a  correspondent  which  the  writer  had  with 
your  excellent  brother,  Sir  Charles  Clifford,  with  regard 
to  the  taking  possession  of  New  Zealand,  and  the 


348  MAEY  HOWITT.  [en.  ix. 

glorious   manner  in  which   the   latter  opened  the  path 
there  for  the  Catholic  faith." 

To  FATHER  PAUL  PERKMANN,  O.S.B. 

"38  Via  Gregoriana,  Oct.  9,  1887. — I  send  you  a 
few  lines  to  prove  to  you  how  kindly  your  prayers, 
and  those  of  others,  have  been  answered  for  us,  in  the 
fullest  sense.  The  journey  was  good  throughout.  Our 
apartment  is  most  comfortable. 

"If  you  could  only  be  spirited  here  this  moment,  and 
sit  with  me,  the  sun  shining  in  deliciously,  and  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  old  Via  Gregoriana  no  new  building, 
but  a  bit  of  an  old  garden,  with  lemon-trees  appearing 
over  the  wall  and  blue  sky  above,  you  would  not  think  it 
unpleasant.  Thus  we  feel  we  have  much  to  be  thankful 
for.  I  as  yet  have  not  been  to  Mass,  but  it  is  a  comfort 
to  me  in  the  early  morning  to  hear  the  bell  of  St.  Andrea 
delle  Fratte  signalising  the  action  of  the  sacred  office,  so 
that  I  can  spiritually  be  present." 

To  MRS.  GAUNT. 

"Rome,  Oct.  10,  1887. — We  are  in  what  was  Miss 
Charlotte  Cushman's  Eoman  home,  and  our  dear  friends, 
Nannie  Leigh  Smith  and  Isabella  Blythe,  are  coming  at 
the  beginning  of  next  month  to  be  inmates  of  the  same 
old  house. 

"  Now  let  me  thank  you  with  my  whole  heart  for  so 
kindly  sending  us  this  very  interesting  life  of  Eossetti, 
of  whom  we  saw  a  good  deal  when  we  lived  at  the  quaint 
and  picturesque  little  Hermitage.  We  also  saw  a  good 
deal  of  Miss  Siddall.  She  was  very  delicate,  and  had 
certainly  a  marvellous  influence  on  Eossetti ;  though  I 
never  could  believe  she  possessed  the  artistic  genius 


1882-88.] 


IN  THE  ETERNAL  CITY. 


349 

which  he  ascribed  to  her,  for  what  she  produced  had  no 
originality  in  it.  Still,  she  was,  in  her  way,  an  interesting 
woman,  and  his  love  for  her  like  a  passionate  romantic 
Italian  story.  But  it  is  altogether  a  strange,  melancholy 
history.  Of  his  later  pictures  I  know  nothing.  The 
last  of  his  which  I  saw  was  a  short  time  before  we  left 
England,  at  his  house  in  Chelsea,  where  I  went  with  my 


VIA  SISTINA  AND  VIA  GREGOKIANA,   ROME. 

eldest  daughter  to  call  on  him.  He  was  painting  beauti- 
ful women,  it  seemed  to  me,  and  nothing  else,  in  gardens 
of  roses.  His  rooms  were  piled  up  with  heaps  of  blue 
and  white  china,  heaps  and  heaps  of  it  on  the  tables,  and 
even  on  the  floor." 

To  THE  SAME. 

"Nov.    14,    1887. — It   does    me    good    to    hear    that 


350  MAEY  HO  WITT.  [CH.  ix. 

genial-hearted  man,  Dr.  Vardon,  speak  of  you.  This 
kind  physician,  his  wife,  and  little  children  occupy,  as 
you  know,  the  highest  apartment  in  this  house ;  and 
below  the  Vardons  come  Miss  Leigh  Smith  and  Miss 
Blythe,  now  our  dear  house-mates. 

"What  a  most  sad  case  is  this  of  the  poor  Crown 
Prince  of  Germany  !  Anything  more  sorrowful  I  cannot 
conceive.  At  the  same  time,  I  cannot  help  feeling  that 
a  blessing  will  come  out  of  it.  So  solemn  a  warning 
must  have  its  purpose.  I  am  sure  the  entire  Catholic 
world  prays  for  him,  and  that  God's  Will  may  be 
done  by  this  affliction  and  in  all  ways.  This  seems 
a  very  grave  ending  to  my  letter,  but  Margaret  has 
just  read  me  the  last  report  of  the  case  ;  and  I  write 
what  I  have  felt  upon  it,  and  you  probably  have  felt  the 
same." 

To  FATHER  PAUL  PERKMANN,  O.S.B. 

""Rome,  Dec.  9,  1887. — More  rain  has  fallen  for  these 
last  few  weeks  than  Romans  are  accustomed  to,  and  as 
St.  Bibiana,  the  rain-bringer,  now  just  passed,  has  come 
with  it  very  much  in  her  train,  they  say  it  will  last  for 
more  than  a  month  to  come.  This  we  are  sorry  for,  as 
we  are  now  beginning  to  think  about  the  great  English 
pilgrimage  which  is  to  arrive  in  the  first  week  of  the  new 
year,  and  which  even  I,  the  old  woman,  desire  to  join, 
though  probably  I  may  not  do  so.  But  we  none  of  us  as 
yet  have  paid  our  respects  to  the  Holy  Father.  You  will 
wonder  at  this,  probably.  I  almost  wonder  at  it  myself. 
But  so  much  is  going  forward,  and  those  very  friends  of 
ours  whose  advice  and  co-operation  we  desire — the  von 
Schonbergs  and  Cliffords — are  not  yet  here.  So  we  wait 
till  they  come." 


1882-88.]  IN  THE  ETERNAL  CITY.  35l 

To  MRS.  GAUNT. 

"Dec.  21,  1887. — I  find  that  our  English  letters  must 
all  be  posted  to-day,  if  they  are  to  be  in  England  before 
Christmas  Day.  Unfortunately,  I  have  been  either  over- 
taken by  time  (which  does  pass  unusually  fast,  I  have 
noticed  of  late)  or  else  have  been  very  lazy,  for  now  at 
the  last  moment  various  letters,  which  I  had  intended  to 
make  particularly  interesting  by  mention  of  the  wonderful 
events  now  daily  taking  place  in  Kome,  must  be  cut 
short,  and  I  content  myself  with  ordinary  Christmas  and 
New  Year's  good  wishes. 

"  However,  I  will  do  my  best,  simply  being  content  if 
my  poor  hurried  lines  only  convey  love  enough  to  those 
who,  like  yourself,  dear  kind  friend,  deserve  the  best  I 
can  do  in  any  way. 

"  I  can  but  wish  you  were  here  ;  for,  though  you  are  not 
a  Catholic,  you  have  a  large  heart  and  a  poetical  mind, 
and  can  feel  the  wonderful  period  this  is  for  the  thou- 
sands who  are  of  this  great  Church.  The  national 
pilgrimages  taking  place  and  continuing  in  the  New  Year 
are  each  very  interesting  to  us,  but  more  especially 
those  announced  from  England,  Scotland,  and  Ireland. 
We  have  just  had  eighteen  hundred  pilgrims  from 
France,  rich  and  poor,  men  and  women,  chiefly  of  the 
artisan  and  peasant  class,  attended  by  priests,  and  all 
impelled  by  an  earnest  Catholic  spirit.  Then  again 
another— eight  hundred,  I  believe — from  Hungary,  also 
principally  poor  people,  men  and  women  in  the  national 
costumes,  with  grave,  earnest,  rather  sad  countenances, 
likewise  attended  by  priests,  and  headed  by  a  few  of 
their  nobility.  It  was  really  most  affecting  to  see  them ; 
and  so  will  it  be  as  other  races  from  all  parts  of  Europe 
come,  speaking  their  here  unspoken  languages,  wearing 


352  MARY  HO  WITT.  [en.  ix 

their  costumes,  should  such  remain  in  their  lands  ;  yet 
all  holding  the  same  faith  with  the  same  living  tenacity, 
and  all  looking  up  to  St.  Peter's,  as  the  Jews  in  olden 
time  to  their  Temple  in  Jerusalem. 

"  It  is  wonderful,  dear  friend,  to  think  of  this,  and 
a  great  privilege  to  be  here,  and  to  witness  something 
of  it.  I,  at  my  age,  can  do  no  more,  but  I  am  thankful 
even  for  that.  All  this  is  page  after  page  in  the  great 
history  of  the  present  day.  Not  less  interesting  and 
valuable  to  us  is  the  fact  that  it  brings  us  into  personal 
intercourse  with  really  great  and  good  men  whom  other- 
wise we  should  have  no  chance  of  knowing.  Then,  too, 
we  see  the  commencement  of  events  and  the  first  pro- 
gress of  great  purposes  which  may  before  long  develop 
into  enduring  blessings  to  the  whole  human  race.  It  is, 
therefore,  very  interesting  to  be  here  now,  when  so  much 
is  going  forward.  You  may  say,  '  But  that  is  only  in 
Catholic  circles.'  Very  true ;  but  these  circles  embrace 
the  whole  world. 

"  Eome  has  always  been  to  us  a  sorrowful  as  well  as 
the  dearest  place  of  residence  we  ever  had.  Here  it  was 
that  our  dear  Peggy  became  one  in  our  family ;  and  here, 
day  by  day,  we  watched  the  progress  of  her  fatal  malady. 
My  dear  husband,  who  loved  Home,  and  felt  it  to  be 
a  happy  home,  here,  like  a  tree  losing  its  leaves  in 
autumn,  prepared  calmly,  if  almost  unconsciously,  for 
the  end.  Here  lie  calmly  his  remains,  awaiting,  if 
God  so  will,  for  mine  to  be  laid  beside  them.  You, 
therefore,  can  understand  why  we  do  not  have  merry 
gatherings  in  Rome,  only  the  visits  of  a  few  choice 
friends." 


1 882-88. J  IN  THE  ETERNAL  CITY.  353 

PRIVATE  NOTES. 

«> 

"  Jan.  i,  1888.— 

Grant  me,  dear  Lord,  for  my  life's  term,  I  pray, 
A  threefold  grace  to  sanctify  each  day. 

Grace  so  to  guide  and  to  control  my  tongue, 
That  none  by  it  may  be  misled  or  stung  ; 
Grace  to  detach  my  mind  from  worldly  snares, 
From  trivial  talk,  or  worrying  Martha-cares  ; 
Grace  in  adoring  love  to  take  my  seat 
Like  Mary,  meek  and  silent  at  Thy  feet. 

The  above  is  my  daily  prayer  for  this  year,  as  for 
the  last.  May  the  dear  Lord  be  pleased  to  hear  it,  and 
mercifully  grant  it.  Amen.  This  has  been,  in  every 
sense  of  the  word,  a  glorious  and  a  blessed  day.  After 
the  wet,  dull  weather  we  have  been  suffering  from,  the  sun 
shone  brilliantly.  Margaret  went,  with  Isabella,  Dr.  and 
Mrs.  Vardon,  and  Janet,  to  the  Holy  Father's  Jubilee 
Mass  in  St.  Peter's.  The  ceremony  was  magnificent, 
harmonious,  with  the  blessing  of  the  Lord  over  all.  Alice 
also  had  a  beautiful  time  at  the  Papal  Mass." 

"  Jan.  i. — A  change  in  the  weather ;  therefore  a  double 
mercy  that  it  was  fine  yesterday." 

"  Jan.  7. — A  dull  day  ;  rain  and  dirty  roads  ;  very  dis- 
agreeable. Bessie  von  Schonberg  comes,  and  afterwards 
Ernst.  It  is  very  pleasant  to  see  them." 

"  Jan.  9. — A  beautiful  day.  I  am  most  anxious  about 
myself  for  to-morrow.  May  the  Blessed  Virgin  Mary 
pray  for  me  !  We  receive  our  English  deputation  tickets. 
Mr.  Clifford  has  most  kindly  arranged  everything  for  us." 

To  FATHER  PAUL  PERKMANN,  O.S.B. 

"Rome,  Jan.    n,    1888. — I   cannot   allow  myself  to 
•   VOL.  ii.  z 


354  MARY  HOWITT.  [en.  ix. 

have  all  the  blessings  and  enjoyment  which  yesterday 
afforded  me  without  endeavouring  to  make  you,  at  least 
in  part,  a  sharer.  For  no  one,  I  believe,  would  bear 
me  more  sympathetically  in  mind  during  that  eventful 
morning  than  yourself. 

"It  was  a  brilliant  day,  after  wretchedly  wet  and 
dreary  weather,  just  as  if  Heaven  were  in  perfect  har- 
mony with  the  desires  of  the  English  pilgrims,  to  the 
number  of  about  five  hundred. 

"  Our  friends,  Mr.  Alphonso  and  Miss  Constantia 
Clifford,  are  here,  you  know,  and  this  English  deputa- 
tion was  under  the  conduct  of  their  cousin,  the  Bishop 
of  Clifton.  Yesterday,  Mr.  Clifford,  as  a  private  chamber- 
lain, was  in  attendance  on  the  Pope,  it  being  considered 
in  order  that  he,  an  Englishman,  should  be  so  on  the 
occasion  of  the  English  deputation,  at  the  head  of  which 
was,  of  course,  the  good  Duke  of  Norfolk. 

"But  though  on  duty  and  very  much  occupied,  he 
made  time  to  receive  us  at  the  private  entrance,  where  we 
could  immediately  ascend  by  a  lift,  without  any  fatigue, 
into  a  warm,  comfortable  ante-room.  Here  we  could 
rest  till  the  time  came  for  the  interview.  Various  dis- 
tinguished personages,  whose  names,  high  in  the  Church, 
were  familiar  to  us,  were  moving  about ;  and  every  now 
and  then  Mr.  Clifford  introduced  us  to  them.  In  a  while 
we  were  moved  on,  advancing  perhaps  through  five  or 
six  rooms,  all  of  which  interested  me  greatly,  nothing 
striking  me  more  than  the  wonderful  simplicity  of  the 
apartments ;  all  similar  and  wholly  without  ornament 
or  costly  show.  At  length  we  were  in  the  room  imme- 
diately adjoining  and  opening  into  the  Throne-room, 
where,  it  now  being  ten  o'clock,  the  Holy  Father  had 
received  the  Bishops  of  the  deputation.  Here  we  heard 


i882-88.]  IN  THE  ETEENAL  CITY.  35S 

the  low,  calm  voice  of  the  Holy  Father  addressing  the 
various  delegates,  who  one  after  the  other  knelt  before 
him.  We  were  about  fifty  ladies  and  a  few  gentlemen, 
just  the  first  detachment  which  had  been  admitted,  as 
it  would  have  been  impossible  to  receive  the  full  number 
at  once ;  and  we  were  so  favoured  as  to  be  in  this  first 
detachment.  I  now  discovered,  with  a  little  nervous 
trepidation,  that  /,  your  poor  old  penitent,  was  to  be 
honoured  by  first  receiving  the  blessing  after  the  dele- 
gates. But,  to  my  infinite  surprise  and  thankfulness, 
though  I  did  feel  a  little  bit  startled  with  a  deep  sense 
of  my  own  unworthiness,  I  felt  at  the  same  time  very  calm 
and  grateful,  trusting  that  our  dear  Lord  would  indeed 
be  with  me.  At  length  the  moment  came.  My  friend, 
Mr.  Clifford,  was  there,  and  I  was  within  the  doorway. 

"  I  saw  the  Holy  Father  seated,  not  on  a  throne,  but 
on  a  chair,  a  little  raised  above  the  level  of  the  floor; 
and  the  English  Bishops,  in  their  violet  silk  cloaks, 
seated  in  two  rows  on  either  side  of  him.  The  gracious, 
most  courteous  Duke  of  Norfolk  came  forward  and  ac- 
knowledged us.  This  might  last,  perhaps,  two  minutes. 
Then  Mr.  Clifford  led  me  forward  to  the  Holy  Father  ; 
Margaret,  as  my  daughter,  following  with  Miss  Clifford. 
I  never  thought  of  myself.  I  was  unconscious  of  every- 
thing. A  serene  happiness,  almost  joy,  filled  my  whole 
being  as  I  at  once  found  myself  on  my  knees  before  the 
Vicar  of  Christ.  My  wish  was  to  kiss  his  foot,  but  it 
was  withdrawn  and  his  hand  given  me.  You  may  think 
with  what  fervour  I  kissed  the  ring.  In  the  meantime 
he  had  been  told  my  age  and  my  late  conversion.  His 
hands  were  laid  on  my  shoulders,  and  again  and  again 
his  right  hand  in  blessing  on  my  head,  whilst  he  spoke 
to  me  of  Paradise. 


356  MARY  HO  WITT.  [CH.  ix. 

"  All  this  time  I  did  not  know  whether  I  was  in  the 
body  or  not.  I  knew  afterwards  that  I  felt  unspeakably 
happy,  and  with  a  sense  of  unwillingness  to  leave.  How 
long  it  lasted — perhaps  a  minute  or  so — I  know  not; 
but  I  certainly  was  lifted  into  a  high  spiritual  state  of 
bliss,  such  as  I  never  had  experience  of  before,  and 
which  now  fills  me  with  astonishment  and  deep  thank- 
fulness to  recall.  I  woke  in  the  stillness  of  last  night 
with  the  sense  of  it  upon  me.  It  is  wonderful.  I  hope 
I  may  never  lose  it. 

"  On  leaving  the  room  I  received  from  a  monsignore 
in  attendance,  with  the  words  that  the  Holy  Father 
gave  it  me,  a  silver  medal  of  himself  in  a  small 
red  case ;  a  present  which  was  made  to  others  of  the 
deputation. 

"  The  Duke  of  Norfolk,  after  this,  very  kindly  led  me 
out  by  another  way  of  exit ;  and  thus  we  could  return 
home  immediately,  descending  in  the  lift  by  which  we 
had  ascended. 

"  Now,  dear  father,  you  have  a  long  letter.  But  to 
you  and  to  dear  Father  Ceslas  I  feel  that  I  owe  a  debt 
which  I  can  only  repay  by  little  offerings  such  as  this. 
And  it  is  not  often  that  I  have  a  chance  of  such  a 
glorious,  divine  opportunity  of  thanksgiving." 


THE  LAST  ENTRIES  IN  PRIVATE  DIARY  FOR  i 

"Jan.  13. — A  very  fine  day.  The  Cliffords  drove 
with  us  to  the  Villa  Celimontana,  to  call  on  the  Arch- 
bishop of  Prague,  a  most  noble-looking  man,  extremely 
friendly  and  agreeable.  Then  we  visited  dear  Lily; 
and  all  was  charming.  On  our  return,  the  Princess 
Lowenstein,  her  sister,  the  Countess  Fiinfkirchen,  three 


1882-88.]  IN  THE  ETERNAL  CITY.  357 

of  her  daughters,  and  their  cousin,  a  young  Princess 
Liechtenstein,  came.  While  they  were  with  us  Mr.  Cox 
of  The  Tablet  called." 

"Jan.  14. — Have  had  my  confession  and  a  pleasant 
visit  from  Father  Carey.  Lord  Selborne  and  Lady 
Sophia  Palmer  call ;  afterwards  Lady  Eyre  and  a  friend 
of  hers  ;  and  later  Mr.  Wedgwood." 

"Jan.  15.— A  fine  day,  but  so  cold  I  could  not  go  to 
Holy  Communion." 

"Jan.  23.— Father  Carey  will  administer  Holy  Com- 
munion to  me  in  my  room  to-morrow  morning.  I 
hope  and  pray  that  it  may  be  blessed  to  me,  and  that 
I  may  be  made  worthy  to  receive  it.  Baron  Hoffmann 
came." 

My  mother  was  at  this  time  suffering  from  an  attack 
of  bronchitis,  which  at  first  confined  her  to  the  house ; 
then,  as  she  grew  weaker,  to  her  room ;  and  finally  to 
her  bed.  It  seemed  likely  that  the  desire  of  her  heart, 
to  attend  the  Papal  Jubilee  and  then  to  pass  away  in 
Rome,  would  be  granted. 

In  a  note  written  to  an  intimate  friend  from  Marienruhe 
we  find  her  saying  : — 

"Sept.  14,  1887. — We  had  Mass  yesterday  morning, 
and  shall  again  have  it  next  Tuesday,  which  will  be 
our  last.  Rather  sad  it  seems  to  me.  Perhaps 
altogether  my  last  here,  for  though  I  am  as  well  as 
usual,  and  in  some  respects  perhaps  better,  yet  every- 
thing, as  far  as  I  am  concerned,  is  done  with  that  feeling. 
Though  I  seem  to  write  rather  dismally,  we  are  all  in 
good  heart." 


358  MAKY  HOWITT.  [CH.  ix. 

The  last  tie  with  this  earth  was  snapped  when  the 
Holy  Father  spoke  to  her  of  a  near  approach  to  Para- 
dise. She  longed  to  go,  and  yet  was  sorry  to  leave 
us.  From  that  time  her  soul  remained  in  a  continuous 
state  of  prayer  and  thanksgiving;  her  heart  and  mind 
overflowing,  as  usual,  with  love  and  interest  for  all  her 
surroundings.  On  Saturday  night,  January  28,  she 
spoke  of  the  total  eclipse  of  the  moon,  commending 
the  energy  of  an  elderly  lady  of  her  acquaintance  who 
had  gone  in  the  dark  on  the  Pincio,  if  possible,  to 
observe  it.  On  the  afternoon  of  the  next  day  she 
received  the  Last  Sacraments  from  the  parish-priest 
of  St.  Andrea  delle  Fratte,  with  the  assistance  of  Father 
Carey;  and  in  so  joyful  and  intelligent  a  manner  as 
to  astonish  the  lively  young  Italian  server.  He  re- 
marked to  the  parish-priest  he  could  perceive  no  signs 
of  approaching  dissolution  in  the  "  Signora,"  and  re- 
ceived for  reply,  "  It  was  on  account  of  her  great  age 
and  by  the  advice  of  the  physician." 

Later  the  same  evening  Father  Lockhart,  a  dear 
and  intimate  friend,  came  to  see  her.  She  spoke  with 
him  in  rapture  of  the  blessings  she  had  received  a  few 
hours  earlier.  That  night  she  conversed  much  with  her 
beloved  Isabella  Blythe,  thanked  Dr.  Vardon  and  her 
devoted  nurse  for  their  faithful,  unflagging  attentions, 
and  repeated  the  customary  evening  prayers  with  her 
daughter.  Then  she  composed  herself  to  rest,  and 
gently  passed  away  in  her  sleep  at  ten  minutes  past 
three  on  Monday  morning,  January  30.  She  had  nearly 
completed  the  eighty-ninth  year  of  her  age. 

It  happened,  by  a  kind  providence,  that  Father  Luke 
Carey,  who  had  spiritually  aided  and  strengthened  her 
since  her  arrival  in  Home,  was  the  Superior  of  St. 


i882-88.]  IN  THE  ETERNAL  CITY. 


359 


Isidore,  a  monastery  to  which,  for  various  reasons,  she 
was  greatly  attached ;  and  that  the  Sons  of  St.  Francis, 
rich  in  piety  and  innocence,  and  loving  poverty  for  God's 
sake,  could  perform  for  her  the  last  rites  within  its  walls. 

On  the  day  of  her  death  various  of  her  friends 
visited  her  chamber  and  prayed  by  her  mortal  remains  ; 
and  thither  came,  in  the  afternoon,  Father  Carey,  with 
one  of  his  Franciscan  Brothers,  to  say  their  office. 
In  this  pious  act  they  were  joined  by  the  Rev.  Kenelm 
Vaughan,  in  whose  "  Work  of  Expiation  "  the  deceased 
was  deeply  interested. 

In  the  early  morning  of  Tuesday,  January  31,  she  was 
laid  in  her  coffin.  Serenely  happy  and  youthful  she  then 
looked ;  her  hands  were  crossed  on  her  breast,  and  she 
reposed  amongst  flowers.  Attended  by  the  parochial 
clergy,  Dr.  Vardon,  Mr.  Marke,  and  a  young  Benedic- 
tine, she  was  borne  from  the  Via  Gregoriana  past  the 
convent  of  the  Reparatrici  nuns,  where  she  had  been 
wont  to  receive  Holy  Communion,  to  the  collegiate 
church  of  St.  Isidore,  and  consigned  to  the  care  of  the 
Franciscans.  Numerous  Catholic  and  Protestant  friends 
and  acquaintance  were  assembled  for  the  Requiem  Mass, 
at  which  Father  Carey  was  the  celebrant. 

The  morning  was  wet ;  but  in  the  afternoon,  when 
the  mourners  returned  to  complete  the  burial,  they  found 
the  church-doors  wide  open,  and  the  sun  streaming  in 
upon  the  coffin  and  its  wreaths  of  flowers;  whilst  some 
of  the  neighbouring  poor,  chiefly  children,  had  turned 
into  the  church,  and  were  kneeling  on  the  pavement 
in  prayer  near  the  bier.  The  young  Seminarists  of 
St.  Isidore,  Irish,  German,  and  Spanish,  in  their  brown 
gowns  and  sandalled  feet,  each  holding  a  tall  lighted 
taper,  filed  in  long  procession  from  the  sacristy,  and 


360  MAEY  HOWITT.  [en.  ix. 

standing  round  the  bier,  headed  by  their  Superior, 
chanted  in  a  most  heart-touching  manner,  first  the  Libera 
me  Domine,  and  then  also  in  Latin,  "  May  the  Angels 
conduct  thee  into  Paradise ;  at  thy  coming  may  the 
Martyrs  receive  thee  and  lead  thee  to  Jerusalem,  the 
holy  city.  May  the  Angelic  Choir  receive  thee,  and  with 
Lazarus,  once  a  beggar,  mayest  thou  have  eternal  rest." 
At  the  end  of  the  office,  with  their  lights  burning,  they 
attended  the  coffin  to  the  hearse  waiting  to  convey  it  to 
the  cemetery  of  Monte  Testaccio.  There,  by  permission 
of  the  Cardinal- Vicar  of  Rome,  the  mortal  remains  of 
Mary  Howitt  were  reverently  interred  by  those  of  her 
husband. 


INDEX. 


ABERGAVENNY,  Countess  of,  i.  20. 
Acton,  Eliza,  Miss,  ii.  24,  94. 
Adams,  Sarah,  Mrs.,  ne'e  Flower,  i. 

209;  ii.  239,  313. 
Agnew,  David,  Rev.,  i.  12. 
Ainger,  Canon,  ii.  174. 
Ainsworth,  Harrison,  i.  271. 
Albans,  St.,  Duchess  of,  nee  Mellon, 

i.  54. 

Alcott,  Louisa,  Miss,  ii.  282. 
Alcott,  May,  Miss,  ii.  282. 
Alexander,  Ann,  i.  31,  74. 
Alexander,  Czar  of  Eussia,  i.  87,  293. 
Alexander,  George,  ii.  92. ; 
Allingham,  William,  ii.  73,  74,  90,  91. 
Andersen,  H.  C.,  ii.  29-31,  184,  226. 
Ansdell,  Richard,  ii.  102,  103. 
Argyll  and  the  Isles,  Bishop  of  (Mack- 

arness),  ii.  175,  176,  249,  250,  281, 

329- 

Argyll,  Duchess  of,  ii.  92. 
Ars,  Cure  d',  ii.  155. 
Ashby,  Ann,  i.  35. 
Astle,  Daniel,  Captain,  i.  104. 
Astle,  Mrs.,  i.  104. 
Atkinson,  Henry  George,  ii.  67,  69. 
Auerbach,  Berthold,  ii.  121. 
Austin,  Mrs.,  ne'e  Taylor,  i.  241. 

BACON,  ANTHONY,  i.  17. 

Bailey,  Philip  James,  i.  289 ;  ii.  282. 

Baillie,  Joanna,  i.  179,  278,  282  ;  ii. 

70. 

Bain,  Admiral,  i.  278,  281. 
Ball,  William,  i.  262. 
Barbauld.  Mrs.,  i.  75-76  ;  ii.  38. 
Barclay,  Mrs.,  nde  Gurney,  ii.  38. 
Barker,  Joseph,  ii.  38. 
Barnardiston,  Mrs.,  i.  25-26. 


Barton,  Bernard,  i.  187,  195,222. 
Bateman,  Edward  Latrobe,  ii.  47,  65, 

7i>  87,  97,  174- 

Bateman,  Henry,  ii.  26,  45,  51,  141. 
Bavaria,  Duke  and  Duchess  Charles 

Theodore  of,  ii.  335-336. 
Beaconsfield,  Earl  of,  ii.  293. 
Beauvoir,  de,  Count,  ii.  141. 
Beecher,  Henry  Ward,  Rev.,  ii.  100, 

101. 

Bell,  Currer,  ii.  59. 
Bell,  Dorothy,  Miss,  i.  106. 
Bell,  Mary,  Miss,  i.  106,  107. 
Belloc,  Bessie  Rayner,  Madame,  ne'e 

Parkes,  ii.  155,  157,  165,  287. 
Bennett,  Rev.  Dr.,  i.  147. 
Bennett,  Elizabeth,  Mrs.,  ne'e  Trusted, 

i.  35;  ii.  6,  113. 
Bennett,  William,  ii.  113. 
Besant,  Walter,  ii.  339. 
Besson,  Pere  0.  P.,  ii.  243,  318. 
Betts,  Mr.  and  Mrs.,  ii.  236. 
Bevan,  Dr.,  ii.  3. 
Bevan,  Joseph  Gurney,  i.  78. 
Bevan,  Sarah,  i.  74,  78,  82. 
Bewick,  Misses,  i.  254. 
Bewick,  Thomas,  i.  in,  241,  254. 
Binney,  Thomas,  Rev.,  ii.  26,  101. 
Binns,  Dr.,  i.  128. 
Bird,  Edward,  i.  24. 
Birkbeck,  Morris,  ii.  238. 
Blackwell,  Elizabeth,  M.D.,  ii.  247. 
Blackwood,  Hon.  Captain,  i.  271. 
Bladon,  Mr.,  i.  239  ;  ii.  105-107. 
Blanchard,  Laman,  i.  265. 
Blatherwick,  Dr.,  ii.  146. 
Ely  the,  Isabella,   Miss,  ii.  252,  342, 

349,  350,  353,  358. 
Boadle,  William,  i.  193. 


362 


INDEX. 


Bodichon,  Barbara,  Madame,  nfo  Leigh 

Smith,  ii.  79,  81,  98,  100,  in,  114, 

155,  156,    164-165,    288,   310-313, 

321. 

Bodkin,  William,  J.P.,  ii.  183. 
Bogue,  Mr.,  ii.  92. 
Bohn,  Mr.,  ii.  92. 
Boothby,  Judge  and  Mrs.,  i.  240-241  ; 

ii.  97,  140. 
Borch,  Herr,  ii.  246. 
Bowles,  Caroline,  Miss.     See  Southey. 
Bowring,  John,  Sir,  i.  213,  214,  221. 
Boyle,     George  David,    Very    Rev., 

Dean  of  Salisbury,  ii.  184. 
Braid,  Dr.,  ii.  102. 
Bremer,  Agatha,  Mdlle.,  ii.  85. 
Bremer,  Aline,  Mdlle.,  ii.  239. 
Bremer,  Fredrika,  Mdlle.,  i.  324  ;  ii. 

5,  9,  23,  24,  84,  85,  90,  93,  122,  136, 

143,  146,  184,  239. 
Brentano,  Clemens,  ii.  22. 
Brenton,  Captain,  ii.  254. 
Brewster,  Anne,  Miss,  ii,  247-248. 
Brewster,  David,  Sir,  ii.  102. 
Bright,  John,  i.  24,  277  ;  ii.  279. 
Bright,  Samuel,  Mrs.,  ii.  279. 
Brodie,  Benjamin,  Sir,  ii.  3. 
Brougham,  Henry,  Lord,  ii.  53,  116, 

145. 

Broughton,  Rhoda,  Miss,  ii.  285. 
Brown,  Ephraim,  i.  282,  289. 
Brown,  Mrs.,  ii.  112,  114,  115. 
Browning,  Mrs.,  ne'e   Barrett,  ii.   90, 

116,  144. 

Browning,  Robert,  ii.  90-91,  144. 
Brownrigg,  William,  Dr.,  i.   16,  19, 

174. 

Billow,  von,  Hans  Guido,  ii.  188. 
Burke,   Robert   O'Hara,  ii.  138-141, 

285. 

Burns,  Robert,  i.  255,  326  ;  ii.  169. 
Burtchaell,  Somerset,  Rev.,  ii.  281. 
Burtt,  Joseph,  i.  240. 
Byron,  Fifth  Lord,  i.  141,  142. 
Byron,  George  Gordon,  Sixth  Lord,  i. 

107,  130,  139,  141,  142,  144,  148, 

152,  183-187,  1 88,  198,  221. 
Byron,  Noel,  Lady,  i.  281,  282,  283  ; 

ii.  loo. 


CAMPBELL,  THOMAS,  i.  194,  254,  255. 
Canning,  George,  i.  152,  200. 
Cardinal- Vicar  of  Rome   (Parocchi), 

ii.  360. 
Carey,  Luke,  Very  Rev.,  O.S.F.,  ii.  357, 

358,  359,  36o. 

Carl  Ludwig,  Archduke,  ii.  340. 
Carlisle,  Earl  of,  ii.  92. 
Carlow,  Bishop  of  (Doyle),  ii.  76. 
Carlson,  G.  W.,  Rev.,  ii.  28. 
Carlyle,  Thomas,  ii.  125. 
Carpenter,  William  Benjamin,  Dr.,  ii. 

69,  95- 

Carpenter,  W.  B.,  Mrs.,  ii.  95. 
Carteret,  Lord,  i.  14. 
Cassell,  John,  ii.  49-51,  52,  54,  145. 
Cavendish,  Richard,  Sir,  i.  101. 
Cesarini,  Sforza,  Duke,  ii.  226,  227. 
Chambers,  Robert,  i.  255  ;  ii.  102,  267. 
Chamisso,  von,  Adalbert,  ii.  10. 
Chantrey,  Francis,  Sir,  i.  205. 
Chapman,  John,  Dr.,  ii.  75. 
Charlotte,  Princess,  i.  109,  281. 
Charlton,  Colonel,  i.  115, 116, 137, 145. 
Chaworth,  Mary,  i.  139,  148. 
Chorley,    Henry  Fothergill,    i.    216, 

217  ;  ii.  57,  58,  63,  234,  235. 
Chorley,  John,  i.  216,  217. 
Chorley,  Toft,  i.  58. 
Chorley,  William,  i.  215,  216,  217. 
Churchill,  G.  C.,  ii.  163. 
Churchill,  Joel,  ii.  238,  239. 
Clam-Martinic,  Heinrich,  Count  and 

Countess,  ii.  346. 
Clarke,  James,  ii.  167. 
Clarke,  Sarah  Freeman,  Miss,  ii.  244, 

268,  276. 
Clifford,  Alphonso,  ii.  337,  353,  354, 

355,  356. 

Clifford,  Charles,  Sir,  ii.  348. 
Clifford,  Constantia,  Miss,  ii.  337,  348, 

354,  355,  356. 
Clifford,  Edward,  ii.  282. 
Clifton,  Bishop  of  (Clifford),  ii.  354. 
Clowes,  Anne,  Mrs.,  i.  63-65. 
Cobbett,  William,  i.  229. 
Cobden,  Richard,  i.  24. 
Coleridge,  Samuel  Taylor,  i.  in,  221 

243,  298,  326;  ii.  212. 


INDEX. 


363 


Conder,  Josiah,  i.  198,  221. 
Consort,  Prince,  i.  298  ;  ii.  71. 
Conway,  Moncure  D.,  ii.  282. 
Cook,  Eliza,  ii.  37. 
Cooper,  Thomas,  ii.  54. 
Cooper,  Walter,  ii.  59. 
Copestake,  Thomas,  i.  58-59. 
Copestake,  Grace,  Miss,  i.  59-61. 
Cornelius,  von,  Peter,  i.  319  ;  ii.  235. 
Coutts,  Burdett-,  Baroness,  ii.  54,  90, 

112,  113,  114-115,  146. 
Cowley,  Abraham,  i.  275,  276. 
Cox,  J.  G.,  ii.  357. 

Crabbe,  George,  Rev.,  i.  in  ;  ii.  158. 
Craig,  E.  T.,  i.  282. 
Craik,  Mrs.,  nee  Muloch,  ii.  172,  173- 

174- 

Crawford,  F.,  Marion,  ii.  296-297. 
Crawshay,  Mr.,  i.  17. 
Croker,  Thomas  Crofton,  i.  218. 
Crosfield,  Joseph,  i.  5. 
Cumberland,  Duke  of,  i.  106  ;  ii.  20. 
Cunningham,  Allan,  i.  213,  214,  215, 

218. 
Cushman,  Charlotte,  ii.  37,  54,  278, 

349- 

DAENIKER,  Madame,  ii.  199. 
Dalhousie,  Earl  of,  i.  194. 
Dannecker,  Johann  Heinrich,  i.  307, 

308,  309. 
D'Arblay,  Frances,  Madame,  nee  Bur- 

ney,  i.  24. 

Darton,  John,  i.  250. 
Darwin,  Charles  Robert,  ii.  1 54. 
Darwin,  Erasmus,  i.  38. 
Darwin,  Miss,  ii.  153. 
Davenport,  Mr.,  i.  137. 
Davis,  Dr.,  ii.  236. 
Dawkins,  W.  Boyd,  ii.  282. 
Denman,  Thomas,  Lord,  i.  247  ;  ii.  53. 
De  Morgan,  Augustus,  ii.  117. 
Dickens,  Charles,  i.  271  ;  ii.  58,  142, 

1 66. 

Dobell,  Sydney,  ii.  132. 
Doherty,  Hugh,  ii.  65,  66,  67. 
Douglas,  Edward,  Rev.,  C.S.S.R.,  ii. 

346. 
Douglass,  Frederick,  ii.  33,  40. 


Drape,  David,  i.  109. 

Drogheda,  Countess  of,  i.  24. 

Dryden,  Lady,  i.  26. 

Dudley  and  Ward,  Lord,  i.  17,  20. 

Dufferin,  Lady,  Countess  of  Gifford, 

ne'e  Sheridan,  i.  271  ;  ii.  146-148. 
Dufferin  and    Ava,   Marquis  of,   ii. 

146-148. 
Duncan,  George,  Hon.,  ii.  289,  294, 

295. 

EASTLAKE,  CHARLES,  Sir,  ii.  72. 

Eliot,  George,  ii.  306. 

Elliott,  Ebenezer,  ii.  32,  43. 

Ellis,  Edward  Shipley,  i.  108. 

Ellis,  John,  i.  107-109. 

Ellis,  Sarah,  Mrs.,  ne'e  Stickney,  ii. 

22. 

Ellis,  William,  Rev.,  ii.  22. 
Emerson,  Ralph  Waldo,  ii.  244. 
Epps,  Dr.,  ii.  6,  8. 
Eschenburg,  Behn,  ii.  200. 
Evans,  Christmas,  Rev.,  ii.  164. 
Eyre,  Lady,  ii.  357. 

FABER,  FREDERICK  WILLIAM,  D.D., 
ii.  301. 

Fahlcrantz,  Christian  Erik,  ii.  28. 

Fairbank,  William,  i.  5. 

Fairholt,  F.  W.,  ii.  102-104. 

Fawcett,  Henry,  i.  277. 

Ferrers,  Earls  of,  i.  56,  133. 

Ferrier,  James  Frederick,  i.  222, 
255. 

Field,  David  Dudley,  ii.  280. 

Fields,  James  T.,  ii.  73. 

Finch,  Mr.,  Hon.,  ii.  66. 

Fison,  Lorimer,  Rev.,  ii  141. 

Fitz-Herbert,  William,  Sir,  ii.  124, 
244. 

Flaxman,  John,  i.  96. 

Fletcher,  Maria  Jane,  Mrs.,  ne'e  Jews- 
bury,  i.  206,  218,  281. 

Florentini,  Theodosius,  Pater,  ii.  193- 

194- 

Flower,  Benjamin,  ii.  238. 
Flower,  Edward,  ii.  237,  238,  239. 
Flower,  E.,  Mrs.,  ii.  237. 
Flower,  Miss,  i.  209  ;  ii.  313. 


364 


INDEX. 


Foley,  Margaret,  ii.  214,  218,  221, 
231,  234,  252,  259,  261,  264,  265, 
266,  268,  285,  314,  352. 

Forlonge,  Mr.  and  Mrs.,  ii.  96. 

Forster,  Ernst,  Dr.,  ii.  102. 

Forster,  W.  E.,  ii.  37. 

Forster,  William,  ii.  37. 

Foster,  Birket,  ii.  49. 

Fox,  Eliza,  ii.  65. 

Fox,  Elizabeth,  i.  28,  262. 

Fox,  W.  J.,  i.  209,  210,  265  ;  ii.  65, 

298,  313- 

Foxr  Samuel,  i.  246. 
Fox,  Sarah,  i.  22. 
Francis  Joseph,  Emperor  of  Austria, 

ii.  340,  341-342. 
Frederick,  German  Emperor,  ii.  202, 

350. 
Freiligrath,  Ferdinand,  i.  326 ;  ii.  22, 

34,  35,  64,  78,  141. 
Freiligrath,  Ida,  Frau,  nee  Melos,  i. 

326. 

Fries,  Maurice,  Count,  ii.  307. 
Froude,  J.  A.,  ii.  63,  340. 
Fryer,  Richard,  i.  24,  321. 
Fiinfkirchen,  Countess,  nee  Princess 

Liechtenstein,  ii.  356. 
Furniss,  Harry,  ii.  328. 
Fusinato,  Fua,  Signora,  ii.  248. 

GARIBALDI,  GIUSEPPE,  ii.  253,  254, 

259,  260. 
Garrison,  William  Lloyd,  i.  292  ;  ii. 

33,  40. 
Gaskell,  Mrs.,  ii.  28,  59,  65,  66,  106, 

115,  116. 
Gaunt,  Mrs.,   ne'e  Wilkinson,  ii.  62, 

84,323,335,344,346,349,35i- 
Gavazzi,  Alessandro,  ii.  76. 
George  III.  of  England,  i.  76-78, 100, 

155- 

Gibson,  John,  ii.  179,  291. 
Gibson,  Milner,  Mrs.,  ii.  141. 
Gigliucci,  Clara,  Countess,  wee  Novello, 

i.  293  ;  ii.  282. 
Gilbert,  Ann,  Mrs.,  nee  Taylor,  i.  237, 

238  ;  ii.  162. 

Gilbert,  Joseph,  Rev.,  i.  237,  238. 
Gilbert,  Josiah,  i.  238  ;  ii.  162,  255. 


Gillies,  Margaret,  Miss,  ii.  30,  32,  33, 

262,  263,  285,  289,  294,  313,  314. 
Gillies,   Mary,   Miss,  ii.   30,  31,  45, 

314. 

Gilpin,  Charles,  i.  89  ;  ii.  92. 
Gisborne,  Thomas,  Rev.,  i.  38. 
Gladstone,  W.  E.,  ii.  176,  254. 
Glasse,  George,  i.  24. 
Glasse,  Samuel,  D.D.,  i.  19,  24,  25. 
Glennie,  Arthur,  ii.  262,  263. 
Goethe,  von,  Ottilie,  Frau,  i.  320. 
Goethe,  von,  Johann  Wolfgang,  i.  63, 

320 ;  ii.  284. 
Goethe,  von  Wolfgang,  jr.,  i.  294,  304, 

320. 

Goode,  Mrs.,  ii.  344. 
Gotschalk,  Marie,  Mdlle.,  ii.  241. 
Gould,  James,  M.D.,  ii.  255,  257. 
Gould,  Mrs.,  ne'e  Bliss,  ii.  247,  254, 

255,  256,  257,  258,  262. 
Graham,  Cyril,  ii.  147. 
Grahame,  Rev.  Dr.,  i.  164,  165. 
Grainger,  Mrs.,  ii.  92. 
Grant,  Joseph  Brett,  Rev.,  ii.  280. 
Gray,  Mr.,  ii.  138-139. 
Greenwell,  Dora,  ii.  182. 
Grey,  Charles,  Earl,  i.  225,  238-239. 
Grubb,  Sarah,  i.  263. 
Guest,  Charlotte,  Lady,  i.  91. 
Gurney,  Joseph  John,  i.  188. 
Gurney,  Miss,  ii.  302. 

HALL,  NEWMAN,  Rev.,  ii.  154. 

Hall,  Robert,  Rev.,  i.  109. 

Hall,  Samuel  Carter,  Mr.  and  Mrs., 

i.  213,  215,  218,  221  ;  ii.  102-104. 
Hambro,  Baron,  ii.  30. 
Hamel,  Bruno,  i.  132,  133. 
Hare,  Augustus,  ii.  292. 
Harris,  Edward,  ii.  38. 
Hart,  Thomas,  i.  7,  38. 
Haslam,  William,  i.  197. 
Hauff,  Wilhelm,  i.  310. 
Hay,  Jane,  Lady,  ii.  148. 
Hay,  Jane,  Mrs.,  nee  Benham  ;  ii.  57. 
Hehl,  Father,  i.  4. 
Heine,  Heinrich,  ii.  22,  201. 
Heine,  Henriette,  Frau,  ii.  201. 
Hemans,  Charles,  i.  217. 


INDEX. 


365 


Hemans,   Felicia,  Mrs.,   i.   195,   198, 

212,  216-217,  220,  253,  326. 
Herbert,  J.  R.,  ii.  76,  77. 
Herbert  of  Lea,  Lady,  ii.  307. 
Herder,  Benjamin,  ii.  305. 
Herder,  von,    Johann  Gottfried,  ii. 

307- 

Hertslet,  Mr.  and  Mrs.,  ii.  162. 
Hervey,  T.  K.,  i.  214  ;  ii.  102. 
Higgins,  C.,  Miss,  ii.  344. 
Hill,  Miranda,  Miss,  ii.  293,  294. 
Hill,  Octavia,  Miss,  ii.  27,  116,  289, 

293,  294,  336,  337- 
Hobhouse,  John  Cam  (Lord  Brough- 

ton),  i.  184. 

Hofer,  Andreas,  ii.  306,  307,  309,  329. 
Hoffmann,    Carl,   ii.    223,    225,   237, 

241,  244,  246,  250,  258. 
Hoffmann,  von,   Richard,    Baron,  ii. 

285,  357. 
Hoffmann- Overbeck,   Frau,   ii.    236- 

237,  240. 

Hofland,  Barbara,  Mrs.,  i.  214. 
Hohenzollern,  Leopold  of,  Prince,  ii. 

198. 

Holmes,  Dr.,  i.  192. 
Hompesch-Bollheim,  von,  Ferdinand, 

Count,  ii.  307,  345. 
Hompesch-Bollheim,  von,  Ferdinand, 
Countess,  nde  Countess  zu  Stolberg- 
Stolberg,  ii.  307,  317,  345. 
Hone,  William,  i.  194. 
Hood,  Thomas,  i.  312  ;  ii.  60. 
Home,  Dr.,  Dean  of  Canterbury,  i.  20. 
Home,  Richard  Hengist,  ii.  86. 
Howard,  Luke,  i.  233. 
Honghton,  Richard  Monckton  Milnes, 

Lord,  ii.  78. 

Hudson,  Joseph,  i.  132-134. 
Humbert,  King  of  Italy,  ii.  226,  227, 

237,  238,  268,  287. 
Hume,  Joseph,  i.  248,  258,  264,  265. 
Hunt,  Leigh,  i.  186-187,  199;  ii.  74. 
Hunt,  Holman,  ii.  72,  73,  74,  75,  106, 

in,  117. 

Hunter,  Hugh,  i.  238. 
Huth,  Messrs.,  ii.  35. 

INGELOW,  JEAX,  ii.  169. 


Ingemann,  Bernhard  Severin,  ii.  71. 
Ingestre,  Viscount,  i.  67  ;  ii.  132. 
Irving,  Washington  ("  Geoffrey  Cray- 
on"), i.  148,  214. 

JAMES,  G.  P.  R.,  i.  297. 

Jameson,  Anna,  Mrs.,  i.  294  ;  ii.  106, 

116,  117. 

Jenkin,  Fleeming,  ii.  159. 
Jerdan,  William,  i.  187. 
Jerichau,  Jens,  ii.  239. 
Jerichau,    Elisabeth,     Madame,    ne'e 

Baumann,  ii.  239,  284. 
Jerichau,  Sophie,  ii.  242. 
Jerrold,  Douglas,  ii.  69. 
Jerusalem,  K.  W.,  ii.  284. 
Johnson,  Samuel,  Dr.,  i.  24,  104,  173, 

205. 

Johnstone,  Mrs.,  i.  255. 
Jones-Lloyd,  Miss,  ii.  154,  178,  344. 
Jones,  Owen,  ii.  71. 

KAULBACH,  VON,  WILHELM,  i.  310; 

"•  57,  77- 

Kay,  Joseph,  ii.  146. 
Kean,  Charles,  ii.  52,  98. 
Kean,  Charles,  Mrs.,  nee  Tree,  ii.  98. 
Keats,  John,  i.  154,  267,  276-277  ;  ii. 

212-213,  265- 
Keller,  Dr.,  ii.  199. 
Kendal,  Duchess  of,  i.  13. 
Kennedy,  William,  i.  218. 
Kestner,  August,  ii.  284. 
Key,  Aston,  ii.  3. 
Kilham,    Hannah,    Mrs.,   i.   85,   87, 

88 

oo. 

King,  Hon.  Misses,  i.  283. 
King,  John,  ii.  138-140. 
Kingsley,  Charles,  Rev.,  ii.  62. 
Kinkel,  Johann  Gottfried,  ii.  78,  81, 

200. 

Kinnaird,  Arthur,  Hon.  Mrs.,  ii.  92. 
Kirkland,  Caroline  M.,  Mrs.,  ii.  46. 
Knott,  Thomas,  i.  109,  185. 
Knudsen,  Herr,  ii.  240,  241. 
Kossuth,  Louis,  ii.  80. 
Kroeker,  Kate,  Madame,  nee  Freili- 

grath,  ii.  141. 
Kroff,  Herr,  ii.  78,  79. 


366 


INDEX. 


LANDON,  LETITIA  ELIZABETH  ("  L.  E. 

L.,"  Mrs.  Maclean),  i.  187,  213,  214, 

215,  219,  280  ;  ii.  22. 
Lansdowne,  Marquis  of,  ii.  53. 
La  Trobe,  Joseph,  ii.  88. 
Lear,  Edward,  ii.  114. 
Leo  XIII.,   Pope,  ii.  268,  269,  350, 

353,  354,  355,  356,  358- 
Leiss,   von,   Mgr.,   Prince-Bishop   of 

Brixen,  ii.  303,  304,  325. 
Lewes,  Charles,  ii.  336. 
Lewes,  Charles,  Mrs.,  ne'e  Hill,  ii.  31, 

313,  3i4»  336- 
Lie,  Jonas,  ii.  244,  247. 
Liechtenstein,  Frangoise,  Princess,  ii. 

357- 

Lind,  Jenny,  ii.  77,  85,  101. 
Linskill,  Mary,  ii.  347. 
Linwood,  Mr.,  ii.  53. 
Liszt,  Franz,  Abbe,  ii.  188. 
Listen,  Kobert,  ii.  3. 
Lloyd,  Charles,  ii.  18. 
Lockhart,  William,  Very  Rev.,  O.C., 

ii.  358. 

London,  Bishop  of  (Blomfield),  ii.  76. 
Londonderry,  Marchioness  of,  ii.  143- 

144. 
Loutherbourg,  de,   Philip  James,   i. 

21. 

Lovelace,   Earl  and  Countess  of,  i. 

282-283. 

Lover,  Samuel,  ii.  102,  103. 
Lowenstein,    Princes?,    n£e    Princess 

Liechtenstein,  ii.  356. 
Lucas,  Samuel,  ii.  279. 
Ludlow,  General,  ii.  157. 
Lumley,  Sarah,  i.  35. 
Lupton,  John,  ii.  347. 
Lury,  Ann,  i.  82,  83. 
Lyndhurst,  Lord,  i.  293  ;  ii.  117. 
Lytton,  Lord,  ii.  105,  184. 

MACAULAY,  JAMES,  Dr.,  ii.  236. 
Macaulay,  Lord,  ii.  53,  261. 
M'Carthy,  Miss,  ii.  77. 
MacDonald,  George,  ii.  242. 
Macdonell,  James,  ii.   172-173,  182, 

277,  292,  294. 
MacFarlane,  Mrs.,  i.  165,  166. 


Maclon,  Mr.  and  Mrs.,  ii.  103. 
Mackarness,  George,  Mrs.,  ii.  175,  176, 

177. 

Mackintosh,  James,  Sir,  ii.  70. 
Maclehose,  Mrs.  (Burns's  Clarinda), 

i.  255. 

Mahon,  Lord,  ii.  53. 
Mancini,  Pasquale,  ii.  280. 
Manning,  Dr.,  ii.  236. 
Mansfield,  Earl  of,  ii.  60,  r  12. 
Margaret,  Queen  of  Italy,  ii.  226,  227, 

287. 
Maria  Feodorowna,  Empress  of  Russia, 

i.  307. 
Mario,  Jessie,  Madame,  ntfe  White,  ii. 

257. 

Marke,  Arthur,  ii.  326,  359. 
Marsh,  George  Perkins,  Hon.,  ii.  254. 
Marsh,  G.  P.,  Mrs.,  ii.  254. 
Martin,  John,  i.  213. 
Martineau,  Harriet,  ii.  67,  69,  70. 
Massey,  Gerald,  ii.  59. 
Masters,  William,  i.  100. 
Mathews,  Charles,  ii.  89. 
Maximilian,  Emperor  of  Mexico,  ii. 

340. 

Mayoress,  Lady  (Mrs.  Challis),  ii.  103. 
Mazzini,  Giuseppe,  ii.  76,  257. 
Medwin,  Thomas,  i.  186,  297. 
Messing,  von,  Dr.,  ii.  264,  266. 
Meteyard,  Eliza  ("Silverpen"),  ii.  60, 

61,  65,  66,  67,  77,  149,  295,  305. 
Meyerbeer,  Giacomo,  i.  319. 
Milbanke,  Lady,  ii.  100. 
Millais,  John  Everett,  Sir,  ii.  72. 
Miller,  Joaquin,  ii.  248-249. 
Miller,  William,  i.  256. 
Mitterrutzner,  Dr.,  Very  Rev.,  ii.  325. 
Moir,   David  Macbeth  ("Delta"),   i. 

198,  221. 

Moore,  Thomas,  i.  144,  152,  221,  255. 
Montgomery,  James,  i.  87  ;  ii.  32. 
Morgan,  Osborne,  ii.  284. 
Morgan,  Mrs.,  ii.  284. 
Morris,  William,  ii.  170,  293. 
Mott,  Lucretia,  Mrs.,  i.  292. 
Mount-Temple,  Lord  and  Lady  (Right 

Hon.    William  and  Mrs.  Cowper- 

Temple),  ii.  263-264. 


INDEX. 


367 


Miiller,  F.  Paludan,  ii.  200,  201,  203, 

204. 

Mulock,  Thomas,  i.  152,  153. 
Mundy,  Edward  Miller,  i.  115,  116. 
Mundy,  Francis  Noel,  i.  38. 
Murray,  Lindley,  i.  128. 
Mushet,  David,  i.  36. 
Muspratt,  Dr.,  ii.  54. 

NAPOLEON  BUONAPARTE,  i.  97 ;  ii.  184. 
Napoleon  III.,  ii.  65,  200,  202,  203, 

204. 

Need,  Colonel,  i.  145. 
Nelson,  Lord,  ii.  87. 
Neville,  Mrs.,  i.  276. 
Nevin,  Rev.  Dr.,  ii.  290,  291. 
Newcastle,  Duke  of,  i.  226. 
Newman,  Cardinal,  ii.  149,  296,  297, 

342-343- 

Newton,  Isaac,  Sir,  i.  14. 
Nicholas  I.,  Czar,  ii.  93,  105. 
Nicoll,  Robert,  i.  256. 
Nightingale,  Florence,  ii.  123,  195. 
Norfolk,  Duke  of,  ii.  354,  355,  356. 
Norton,  Hon.  Mrs.,  nee  Sheridan,  ii. 

146. 
Norton,  Dr.,  ii.  152. 

O'CoNNELL,  DANIEL,  i.  248,  251,  252, 

258. 

Oehlenschlager,  Adam  Gottlob,  ii.  71. 
Okeover,  H.  C.  and  Hon.  Mrs.,  of  Oke- 

over,  ii.  175. 
Oldham,  William,  ii.  168,   169,  170, 

171,  172,  227,  295. 
Oldham,  Mrs.,  ne'e  Sutton,  ii.  168,  169, 

170,  171,  172,  339. 
Opie,  John,  i.  21. 
Overbeck,  J.  Friedrich,  ii.  223,  235, 

237,  250,  258. 

Owen,  Robert,  i.  170-171  ;  ii.  99. 
Owen,  J.,  Rev.,  i.  100. 
Oxford,   Bishop   of  (Mackarness),  ii. 

176. 
Oxford,  Bishop  of  (Wilberforce),  ii.  54. 

PALMER,  SOPHIA,  Lady,  ii.  357. 
Parker,  Mrs.,  i.  72,  73,  74,  75,  98,  100  ; 
ii.  236. 


Parkes,  Joseph,  Mrs.,  ii.  78. 

Patmore,  Coventry,  ii.  72. 

Patton,  Mr.  and  Mrs.,  ne'e  Hutchinson, 

ii.  253,  254 

Paulsen,  Alberto,  ii.  241. 
Pease,  Joseph,  ii.  3. 
Peel,  Robert,  Sir,  i.  323  ;  ii.  54. 
Pemberton,  Charles,  i.  208-210,  268. 
Pemberton,  Misses,  ii.  326. 
Perkmann,  Paul,  Rev.,  O.S.B.,  ii.  325, 

327,  345,  348,  350,  353- 

Perry,  Erskine,  Sir,  ii.  116. 

Pepys,  Leslie,  ii.  344. 

Phillips,  Richard,  Sir,  i.  209. 

Phillips,  Thomas,  i.  144  ;  ii.  i. 

Pipe,  Humphrey,  i.  63,  107  ;  ii.  284. 

Piranesi,  G.  B.,  i.  106  ;  ii.  279. 

Price,  Anna,  i.  28,  32,  90. 

Price,  Christiana,  i.  90,  261,  262. 

Price,  Edwin,  i.  91. 

Price,  Joseph  Tregelles,  i.  91,  262. 

Price,  Peter,  i.  28. 

Pringle,  Thomas,  i.  213,  214,  215. 

Procter,  Bryau  "Waller  (Barry  Corn- 
wall), i.  214,  267. 

Procter,  Adelaide  Anne,  ii.  142,  144, 

149,  155- 
Prussia,  of,  Friedrich  Wilhelm   IV., 

i.  319  ;  ii.  64. 
Pulsky,  Francis  A.  and  Madame,  ii. 

78-80. 
Purdie,  Thomas,  Mr.   and  Mrs.,   ii. 

287. 

QUILLINAN,  DORA,  Mrs.,  ne'e  Words- 
worth, i.  174,  224,  225  ;  ii.  32. 

RANCLIFFE,  LORD,  i,  185. 

Read,  Buchanan,  ii.  73-75. 

Reclus,  Monsieur,  ii.  94. 

Redgrave,  Gilbert,  ii.  329. 

Rees,  Elizabeth,  i.  1 1,  28. 

Rees,  Evan,  i.  1 1,  28,  89. 

Retzius,  Anna,  Madame,  ne'e  Hjerta, 

ii.  284. 

Retzsch,  Moritz,  i.  315-318. 
Richard,  Henry,  ii.  280. 
Richardson,  Thomas,  ii.  279. 
Richter,  Jean  Paul,  i.  293. 


368 


INDEX. 


Ricketson,  Daniel,  ii.  253. 

Ricketson,  Walton,  ii.  253,  254. 

Rickman,  Rachel,  i.  83. 

Rickrnan,  Thomas,  i.  83. 

Ristori,  Adelaide,  Marchesa  del  Grille, 

ii.  262. 
Robiano  (de,  Alfred,  Count),  Father 

Ceslas   Maria,   O.P.,  ii.    317,   318, 

319,  320,  356. 

Robinson,  Crabb,  Henry,  ii.  38. 
Robinson,  Thomas  and  Sarah,  i.  89. 
Robson,  Edward,  ii.  279. 
Rogers,  Samuel,  i.  197. 
Rolleston,  Miss,  i.  107. 
Roscoe,  Thomas,  i.  213. 
Roscoe,  William,  ii.  179. 
Roscow,  Roland,  i.  189,  190. 
Ross,  William,  Sir,  ii.  114. 
Rossetti,  Christina  G.,  ii.  301. 
Rossetti,  Dante  Gabriel,  ii.  73-75,  88, 

93,  94,  1 08,  143,  157,  249,  349. 
Rossetti,  William,  ii.  75,  249. 
Rousseau,  Jean  Jacques,  i.  137,  138, 

145- 

Routledge,  Messrs.,  ii.  92. 
Runeberg,  Johan  Ludvig,  ii.  71. 
Runeberg,  Walter,  ii.  283. 
Rusden,  G.  W.,  ii.  285. 
Russell,  Earl,  ii.  53,  54. 
Russell,  Joseph,  i.  35. 
Russell- Watts,  Jesse,  ii.  124. 

SADLER,  THOMAS,  D.D.,  ii.   38,  68, 

281. 

Sadler,  Michael  Thomas,  i.  101. 
Salisbury,  Bishop  of,  ii.  32. 
Sandbach,  Henry  R.,  Mr.  and  Mrs. 

ii.  178-180,  285. 
Sands,  David,  i.  40. 
Scherer,  Maria  Theresia,  Rev.  Mother, 

ii.  I93-I95- 

Schiller,  von,  Friedrich,  i.  320  ;  ii. 
186-187. 

Schleinitz,  von,  Alexandra,  Baroness, 
ii.  324. 

Schlosser,  Rath  and  Rathin,  i.  294. 

Schmid,  von,  Schmidsfelden,  Caro- 
line, ii.  327. 

Schonberg  -  Roth  -  Schonberg,       von 


Ernst,  Baron,    ii.    302,    321,   325, 
326,  346,  350,  353. 

Schonberg  -  Roth  -  Schonberg,      von, 
Ernst,  Baroness,  nee  Ward,  ii.  302, 
325,  326,  334,  353. 
Schonborn,  Cardinal,  Archbishop   of 

Prague,  ii.  356. 
Schoultz,  von,  Frau,  ii.  i,  22. 
Schwab,  Gustav,  i.  307. 
Scott  of  Amwell,  i.  222. 
Scott,  Gilbert,  Sir,  ii.  178. 
Scott,  Hope,  James,  ii.  127. 
Scott,  Walter,  Sir,  i.  98,  107,  in,  160, 
164,  169,  172,  179,  220,  222,  230 
326;  ii.  71,  121. 

Scott,  Woodward,  Misses,  ii.  298. 
Seddon,  John,  ii.  116. 
Seddon,  Thomas,  ii.  113,  116,  117. 
Selborne,  Earl  of,  ii,  357. 
Severn,  Joseph,  i.  277  ;  ii.  212,  213. 
Shad  well,  Arthur  T.  W.,  Rev.,  ii.  280. 
Shaftesbury,  Seventh  Earl  of,  ii.  93 

95,  101,  102. 

Shaftesbury,  Countess  of,  ii.  92. 
Shaw,  Joshua,  Rev.,  i.  147. 
Shelley,  Percy  Bysshe,   i.    m,   267 

297  ;  ii.  190,  291. 
Sheridan,  General,  ii.  75. 
Shipley,  Morris  and  Ann,  i.  3-4. 
Shrewsbury,  Sixteenth  Earl,  i.  in  ; 
Seventeenth  Earl,  ii.  126  ;  Eight- 
eenth Earl,  ii.  127,  132. 
Shuttleworth,  Kay,  James,  Sir,  ii.  146. 
Siddall,  Elizabeth,  ii.  349. 
Smiles,  Samuel,   Dr.,  ii.  42,  62,  84, 

98,  282. 

Smith,  Benjamin,  ii.  34,  78-80,  98. 
Smith,  Bernhard,  ii.  88,  94. 
Smith,  Frederick,  i.  78. 
Smith,  Carmichael,  Major,  i.  265. 
Smith,  John,  i.  148. 
Smith,  Leigh,   Anne,   Miss,   ii.    252, 
264,  321,  324,  338,  341,  342,  349, 

350- 
Smith,   Leigh,  Benjamin,  ii.    79-80, 

157,  321. 

Smith,  Pye,  Dr.,  i.  147. 
Smith,  Richard,  i.  88,  89. 
Smith,  Shakespeare,  William,  i.  278. 


INDEX. 


369 


Smith,  Southwood,Dr.,i.  319  ;  ii.  27, 

31,314- 

Smith,  Sydney,  ii.  28. 
Solms-Braun fels,  Prince  of,  ii.  161. 
Somerset,  Duchess  of,  nee  Sheridan,  i. 

271  ;  ii.  146. 

Somerville,  Mary,  Mrs.,  ii.  115. 
Southey,  Kobert,  i.  221,  243,  255,  275, 

278,  325,  326. 
Southey,  Caroline,  Mrs.,  nee  Bowles, 

i.  211,  247,  248,  252,  274,  278-279, 

325- 

Steinkopif,  C.  F.  A.,  Kev.,  i.  100. 
Sternbacb,  von,  Marie,  Baroness,  ii. 

303. 

Stolberg-Wernigerode,    von,    Franz, 

Count  and  Countess,  nee  Countess 

de  Robiano,  ii.  320. 
Stocks,  Thomas  F.,  Rev.,  ii.  281. 
Stowe,  Harriet,  Mrs.,  ne'e  Beecher,  ii. 

92>  93,  99,  100-101. 
Strauss,  D.  F.,  i.  314. 
Stubbs,  Jonathan,  Rev.,  i.  105,  178. 
Stuart,  Dudley,  Lord,  ii.  78. 
Sturge,  Joseph,  ii.  105. 
Summers,  Mr.,  ii.  285. 
Sussex,  Duke  of,  i.  177. 
Sutherland,  Dr.,  ii.  97. 
Sutherland,  Duke  of,  i.  24  ;  ii.  101. 
Sutherland,  Duchess  of,  ii.  91,  92,  93, 

95,  99,  101,  102. 
Sutherland,  Mrs.,  ii.  92. 
Swift,  Dean,  i.  13,  14. 

TAIT,  Mr.,  i.  245,  255. 

Talbot  of  Ingestre,   Second  Earl,  i. 

10,  II,  56,  66,  67  ;  Third  Earl,  ii. 

127. 

Talfourd,  Thomas  Noon,  Sir,  ii.  54. 
Talleyrand,  de,  Prince,  i,  257. 
Tamworth,  Viscount,  i.  56. 
Taylor,  Bayard,  ii.  283. 
Taylor,  Isaac,  ii.  162. 
Taylor,  Jane,  i.  237. 
Tegg,  Thomas,  ii.  10,  19. 
Teguer,  Esaias,  ii.  i,  71,  239. 
Tennyson,  Lord,  i.  267  ;  ii.  27,  41, 

148,  170. 
Terry,  Mrs.,  ii.  296,  297. 

VOL.  II. 


Thackeray,  William  Makepeace,  i. 
265-266  ;  ii.  142,  239. 

Thiers,  Louis  Adolphe,  i.  313. 

Thompson,  John,  i.  88. 

Thorwaldsen,  Bertel,  ii.  241. 

Tieck,  Ludwig,  i.  305,  319. 

Todhunter,  Joseph,  ii.  104. 

Todhunter,  Mrs.,  ii.  26,  104,  137, 157, 
183,  260,  322. 

Torre-Arsa,  di,  Marchesa,  Duchessa 
di  Serradifalco,  ii.  253. 

Tozer,  Right  Rev.  Bishop,  ii.  265. 

Tregelles,  Katharine,  i.  28. 

Trelawny,  Edward,  i.  186. 

Trelawny,  Letitia,  Miss,  ii.  287. 

Trench,  Richard  Chenevix,  Arch- 
bishop of  Dublin,  ii.  244. 

Trimmer,  Mrs.,  i.  76. 

Trollope,  T.  Adolphus,  ii.  254,  257. 

Trudel,  Dorothea,  ii.  204,  305. 

Trusted,  Imm.,  i.  34,  35  ;  ii.  6. 

Tuckfield,  Hippersley,  Mrs.,  i.  283. 

Turpin,  Dick,  i.  23. 

Tylor,  Alfred,  Mrs.,  ii.  38. 

Tyrconnel,  Earl  of,  i.  268,  269. 

UHLAND,  JOHANN  LUDWIG,  i.  308 ;  ii. 
70. 

VARDON,  EVELYN,  Dr.,  ii.  350,  353, 

358,  359- 

Vaughan,  Kenelm,  Rev.,  ii.  359. 
Verdi,  Giuseppe,  ii.  214. 
Vernon,  Lord,  i.  41,  98. 
Vertunni,  Cavaliere,  ii.  296. 
Victor  Emmanuel  II.,  King,  ii.  204, 

209-211,  214,  237,  253,  257,  267, 

268. 
Victoria,  Queen,  i.  298  ;   ii.  91,  98, 

102,  345. 

WAGNER,  RICHARD,  ii.  188. 
Wallscourt,  Lord,  ii.  66-67. 
Walpole,  Robert,  Sir,  i.  13,  15,  1 6. 
Waring,  Anna  Letitia,  i.  91. 
Waring,  Deborah,  ne'e  Price,  i.  91. 
Waring,  Elijah,  i.  91. 
Warner,  William,  i.  7,  8. 
Washington,  George,  i.  19,  62. 
2  A 


37° 


INDEX. 


Wasse,  H.  W.,  Rev.,  ii.  281. 
Waterpark,  Lady,  i.  64. 
Waterpark,  Lords,  i.  100;  ii.  175. 
Watson,  William,  i.  16. 
Watts,  Alaric,  i.  213,  214,  215,  221, 

257;  ii.  96,  102,  117. 
Watts,  Zillah,  Mrs.,  nee  Wiffen,  i.  195, 

213,  215;  ii.  19,  96,  102,  117. 
Webb,  Mrs,  ii.  168. 
Wedgwood,  Josiah,  i.  96  ;  ii.  149. 
Wedgwood,  Eowland  H.,  ii.  357. 
Weldon,  Raphael,  ii.  162,  163,   183, 

184,  327. 

Weldon,  Walter,  ii.  183,  184,  308,334. 
Westmacott,  Richard,  Sir,  i.  186-187. 
Wheeler,  Daniel,  i.  88. 
White,  Mrs.,  of  Barrow  Hill,  ii.  106. 
Whitney,  Adeline  D.,  Mrs.,  ii.  283. 
Whittier,  John  Greenleaf,  ii.  283. 
Wiertz,  A.  J.,  ii.  184-185. 
Wiffen,  Benjamin,  i.  215. 
Wiffen,  Jeremiah,  i.  188,  215,  222. 
Wilberforce,  William  Basil,  ii.  325, 

337- 

Wilberforce,  William,  i.  19. 
Wildman,  Major,  i.  178. 
Wilkes,  John,  i.  17. 
Wilkinson,  Garth,  J.  J.,  Dr.,  ii.  65. 
Wilkinson,  Thomas,  i.  222. 
William  IV.,  King,  i.  225. 
Williams,  Penry,  ii.  179,  285. 
Williams,  Rowland,  D.D.,  ii.  151. 


Williams,  Thomas  V.,  Rev.,  ii.  122. 
Wills,  William  John,  ii.  138-141,  285. 
Willson,    Right    Rev.    Dr.     Robert, 

Bishop  of  Tasmania,  ii.  28. 
Wilson,  John  (Christopher  North),  i. 

166,  179,  222,253,  255. 
Wilson,  Robert,  Captain,  i.  22. 
Wiseman,  Cardinal,  ii.  64,  76,  77. 
Wollaston,  William  Hyde,  ii.  100. 
Wood,  Charles,  i.  15-17,  239. 
Wood,  Francis,  i.  20,  27. 
Wood,  William  (Irish  Patentee),   i. 

12-15. 

Woodall,  William,  ii.  304,  327. 
Woolley,  Anna,  i.  74,  78,  82,  93. 
Woolner,  Thomas,  ii.  74,  75,  88, 89, 94. 
Wordsworth, William, i.  in,  174,  196, 

197,  221,  224,  225,  242,  243,  254, 

255,  267  ;  ii.  32. 

Wordsworth,  Mrs.,  i.  224-225  ;  ii.  32. 
Wright,  Henry  Clarke,  ii.  31,  40. 
Wiirtemberg,  William,  Count  of,  i. 

310. 
Wyatt,  Mr.,  i.  38,  39. 

YORK,  ARCHBISHOP  OF,  ii.  76. 

Yorke,  Miss,  ii.  293,  294. 

Young,  James,  of  Kelly,  ii.  258,  259, 

260,  324. 
Youl,  Edward,  ii.  51-55. 

ZELLER,  Herr,  ii.  204,  206-207. 


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