A bundle of letters from over the sea

Front matter

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Preface

In presenting ray little hook to the public, I feel that I should apologize for so doing, instead of introducing it; for at the time my letters were written I had no idea of publishing them. Since my return, hoivever, several friends who had read thetn have assured me that they greatly enjoyed them, and felt that others would do so, also, had they the opportunity. The letters have, at least, the merit of beijig fresh and honest impressions of the places described, as they were written on the spots. Rememberiiig how eagerly I have always read letters of travel, I sincerely hope

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that mine may prove a source of pleasure to some — to those who have been over the same ground, and to many who have the pleasure in anticipation. I am aware that the route I describe is a well-worn thoroughfare, but every eye has its own perspective, and different views of the same pictures assist the sight-seer in comprehending the whole. Therefore, I here beg the charity of all into whose hands this little book may fall.

L. B. R.

Hotel Oxford^ Boston^

December 20, 1889.

FROM OVER THE SEA.

Letter I

Well, was not this starting for Europe in a liurry ? I left Boston Saturday, June 9th, at five A. M., only deciding the day previous to go. A number of letters and telegrams, from New York, urging me to join a delightful party who were to make the journey, proved to be too much of a temptation to accept the change I so much needed, to resist. For several previous seasons I have seen friends off,

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honestly glad to have them enjoy so much, but after awhile enthusiasm in the pleasures of others, who enjoy much and leave you behind to be glad for them, grows dull, like champagne long uncorked, not much sparkle to it, * for all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.' A hurried packing ; good-by letters ; messenger boys running here and there; a turning of the keys ; and I am off. To my maid, to the elevator boy, to the expressman and the coachman, I excitedly said, '■ I am going to Europe,' but their faces did not light up with delight as I expected they would ; and I thought — How unappreciative we all are, after all, of other people's enthusiasm. The train was a slow one, but the only one that could possibly get me to New York in time to take the steamer. Some trouble with the machinery of the engine detained us, and I spent the time, while the cars were stopped, praying to be resigned, if I had got to be disappointed, as, for a while, matters looked as if it would be impossible for me to reach my friends on the hour for the ship to sail. But prayers and the work of an ingenious Yankee

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mecliaiiic carried us through. It ^^^ after 3 p. M. when we rolled into the Grand Central Depot. I rushed into the nearest cab like one mad — urged, coaxed, and fee'd my driver, who quickly comprehended the situation and ran his horses to the best of their speed, and did get me to the Cunard Wharf about ten minutes before the Etruria moved ; but it was in truth a ' John Gilpin ride.' My friends were on the lookout with anxious eyes, and, when they caught a sight of me, greeted my appearance with shouts of delight. After the excitement was over, we settled down into an ' all right ' atmosphere and looked about. The sights that met my eyes I. shall never forget. The ^ huge ship with the bright-colored flags flying, the hundreds of people crowded on her, hundreds more on the wharf, throwing kisses, waving handkerchiefs and adieus, everybody loaded with flowers, many laughing and more crying. ^ God bless you. Take care of yourselves. Write soon and often,' were the oft-repeated words we heard. The planks are drawn, the ^ band struck up ' The Girl I left behind me,' and off we steamed down the beautiful harbor of New York, fast leaving the shores of America in the distance. I thought of all the loved friends we were sailing away from, in the body but not in spirit, and asked our dear ' Father in Heaven ' to take care of us all. I was tired, so dined early, settled things a little in our state-room, and retired. I went immediately to sleep, without a care, like a weary, confiding child on its mother's breast, and did not once awaken until nine the next morning — Sunday. My rest was perfect, thus 'rocked in the cradle of the deep,' while the waves sung to me their sweet lullaby. I arose feeling thoroughly refreshed — rubbed my eyes well to be convinced that I was not dreaming, and that in reality I was far out at sea. We have a fine state-room ; two wide berths and a sofa ; and only F. and I its occupants ; plenty of room for our things, and two looking-glasses ; so we shall be sure to keep amiable on this trip. The Etruria is a beautiful and an immense steamer. Four hundred persons make up the crew and she takes fifty engineers. We have a music room, a library, a large saloon, reception rooms, dining room,

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etc., all finely and conveniently furnished and spacious. We have six hundred passengers on board, all first class, and a fairly good-looking crowd notwithstanding there are but few from Boston. We take no secondclass passengers or emigrants. So far the weather has been charming. We settle ourselves in our steamer chairs in the most deliciously idle and comfortable positions, E. tucks his numerous nice wraps about us, for the air is keen but most wholesomely pure and sweet, and we give ourselves up both body and mind to perfect rest and repose, such as no condition on land can bring. I even find myself wishing that the steamer would not speed on quite so rapidly. I am afraid we shall sight land too soon. On shipboard, the shghtest incident becomes to all a matter of great interest. A ship in the distance, or a whale's back, will cause as much excitement as Barnum's circus in a country town. We have seen two steamers far away, many sea-gulls and Mother Gary's chickens, and a school of porpoises followed us a long distance, creating much amusement. We have two dukes on board, a real lord and a lady, but they look b A BUNDLE OF LETTERS.

very like the rest of us mortals, and seem to do quite as much stretching, yawning, walking, and eating. We have met here several old friends, and have made some new ones. Everybody seems inclined to be agreeable and social. I cannot imagine how any one could ever think a sea voyage dull. I get so interested in all about me, that their interests and purposes become my own. A bright little Cuban miss confided to me that she was going

,^ to travel for a year, because her rich father had taken to himself a new companion younger than herself, and she could not stay at home and see the young girl in her mother's place. We have six school-girls on board with their chaperone, and a jolly good time they are having. School-girls are the same everywhere.

J A bride and groom sit at table near us, trying to act as if they had been always married, but are really continually revealing their new condition. Ah ! ^ the old, old story,' but ever new. A gentleman from the West, who had been cabled to ' hurry over — wife sick,' walks

% the deck with a face that tells of the sad heart he carries. How we all sympathize with him,

LETTER I. i

and yet are so helpless in comforting him ! We had a fine concert in the grand saloon last evening, for ^ sweet charity ; ' and many of the ladies honored the occasion by changing their travelling dresses for evening costumes. Mile. Zelie de Lussan sang two pieces most charmingly, and on encore gave us ' Coming thro' the Rye ' and ' Dors mon ange.' She is a great favorite with all on board, and no wonder, for she endeavors in her sweet way to add to the happiness of all. She was enthusiastically applauded. We had some fine instrumental music on both violin and piano, and ' Tony ' Pastor was irresistible in his manner of rendering several comic selections, and very kind to repeat them in acknowledgment of hearty applause. Our young ladies passed around the hats, into which coin was quickly deposited to the amount of over three hundred dollars. Rev. Dr. H., of New York, made a few remarks. He is a forcible, impressive speaker and with a physique equal to our own Trinity Rector. He also has exhibited a commendable spirit in helping make the time pass agreeably for all with whom he has come in contact. Editor

P. is also amongst us, leaving his ^ New York World' behind for a time, but not under a bushel. Our table and the service are excellent; and what gormandizers we are to be sure ! Hungry as sharks every meal, notwithstanding the hourly extras of bouillon and crackers on deck, and the daily treats from our own boxes of fruit, wine, and bon-bons. If any one should now ask me ^ What is the chief end of man ?' I should honestly answer. To eat of all, at least, on board our ship. Poor E. looks upon his chest of medicines for sea-sickness as a lost investment ; stocks way down — not even a shadow of an excuse yet for opening it. Miss C, the noted beauty, is on board, but her fair face is closely enveloped in veils, that the sun and wind may not be too familiar. One loses much not to take the whole of this blessed, invigorating air, and look out unhampered on the exquisite sky and cloud effects above us, and the artistic blending of blues and greens on the waves beneath.

Liverpool, England, June 17, 1888. — We first saw land yesterday morning, very early. It was a perfect morning, clear and warm, and

LETTER I. y

when we emerged from our state-room and made our way on deck, we found the greater portion of our comrades ahead of us, with their glasses in hand, peering toward the rocky coast of not far away * Old Ireland.' It is a rough, rugged shore, with here and there a lighthouse, built as if to last for ages, on rocks, strong and high, and all colored white with some black trimmings. Occasionally an old castle is seen. The fields of flax, colored with all the shades of green, are very beautiful, and add much to vary the scene.

We have had, as one of our daily companions crossing over, an Irish gentleman of much intelligence and culture. He is a large landholder, and has a fine home not very far from Dublin ; has been travelling some in America, but mostly in the Western States. I have gained much information from him of his country and its people. He was amazed at the extent of our own land, but with all his intelligence coidd not comprehend everything connected with our divisions of country clearly, and said to me — * Boston, that city is very near Massachusetts, is it not ? ' He admired

American ladies, and thought * Mrs. Cleveland should reign in Washington longer.* His brogue was fascinating, and he talked much of the Pot-o-mac River.

In speaking of the poor of his country, I did not hesitate to ask him how he and gentlemen of his kind could endure having the poor so oppressed by the rich landlords ; that to me it seemed most cruel. With a sympathetic sigh he replied, * If you will visit me, I will show to you more than I can tell you.'

Our big steamer stopped, for the first time, for the passengers who were booked for the * Green Isle ' to get on to the little tug which came puf&ng down from Queenstown, and we said good-by to many of our fellow-voyagers reluctantly. A large mail was thrown on board also for Ireland, carrying undoubtedly happiness and help into many homes.

On again we started, and reached Liverpool at one o'clock a. m. We certainly had a perfect trip over, and the Etruria and her watchful, careful commander, Captain Cook, will have ever a grateful place in my memory. Blessed be the gift of memory ! The one thing that

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holds precious treasures that cannot be taken from us ; from which we can at all times summon the delights and joys of the past, without money and without price.

Letter II

We landed at seven a. m. Were detained but a short time at the Custom-house. The ordeal of examining luggage there, proved much less than we expected; one pleasant official, remarking that he did not wish to disturb my nicely packed bags, would pass them over if I would swear that I had no tobacco or cigars. Hasty good-bys, cards and kisses exchanged, and we were soon whirled to our hotel — the Adelphi. What a transition ! We have nice rooms, and a pretty maid, with a demi-trained white cambric dress on, to wait upon us, looking as fresh as a daisy. After breakfast, we went to drive about the city, the largest seaport in the world. The docks are many miles in length. We visited the museum, St. George's

Hall, and looked into one or two churches. The city looks solid and business-like, but not attractive. The suburbs are more so, and have fine trees. No more horse-cars for us, but trams, with seats on top, which we very much like. After luncheon, we crossed the Mersey in a ferry, to Birkenhead, and there took steam cars for Chester, thirty miles away. Chester ! old, odd, quaint, red-walled Chester ! We hurried to the Cathedral, to be in time for service, which proved to be a choral one, of great beauty and sacredness, and the first words that greeted us were sweetly sung, and impressed us in a stronger way than ever did the same words before : —

' Jesus shall reign where'er the sun Doth his successive journeys run; His kingdom stretch from shore to shore, Till moons shall wax and wane no more.'

Of this cathedral you have read many descriptions, and yet one can have but little idea of it without seeing it. As I sat in the chancel, and looked about me, I felt as if I belonged to the past. There seemed to be a spirit of antique rest and repose pervading the whole inte-

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rior. After service, we peeped into the nooks and corners of the old church, and then out into the rich bahuy air of this perfect day in June, and walked on the old wall which was built to protect the town. We looked from the windows of the tower, where Charles I. stood and saw his army defeated by Cromwell. How many reminiscences of our lessons in history at school these old towns bring up ! An open carriage stood near us, into which we jumped, and were driven through the grounds and to the home of the Duke of Westminster, who is, I believe, the richest man in England. As it was Sunday, we could not be admitted to the palace, but enjoyed the drive through the perfect grounds immensely. The town contains a beautiful park, in which is a fine statue of the father of the present duke. The narrow streets and the odd-looking old houses in the oldest part of the town were intensely attractive to me, so, leaving the rest of my party to wander in the park, I strolled off alone. I pulled the latch-string of a little house, and a kindly faced old lady appeared. I asked for some water, and she urged me to come in and rest, and I lingered a long time, so interesting to me were her tales of Chester, where she had all her life lived, not even having been so far away as ^ Lunnon town.' The custom of ringing what used to be the ' curfew bell ' is still kept up. A bell rings at nine p. m., and if maids are out alone after that hour they may be arrested. '■ A good custom it is,' said the old ladyj 'God made the night to sleep, and not for gadding.' Back to Liverpool, and good-by to E. He remains here, and we go to-morrow to Leamington Spa.

June 18. — At seven a. m. we left Liverpool. The morning was a perfect one, and our train ran slowly, perhaps purposely that we might see beautiful old Eng-land. And beautiful it is ! Such green fields, such magnificent trees, such hedges, ivy, hawthorn, and a tangled mass of sweetbrier and wild rose. Houses covered with ivy and roses. Roses in bloom everywhere, little plots of ground around the stations filled with roses — red, white, and yellow, their sweet fragrance pouring into the windows of our car. The flocks of sheep, the

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herds of cattle in the fields and meadows, restino^, or cooiino' their feet in silver streams. how beautiful this all is ! The blue sky of to-day seems so near us. Glimpses of cathedrals and palatial homes greet us. The fields of wild poppies and wheat add brilliancy to it all. Surely we must be in the highly cultivated, most beautiful part of England ! But no, it is all the same. There are no rough spots in England, no stony pastures, no broken fences : it is all a beautiful garden from one end to the other. F. says almost too * spick and span ; ' but to me, perfection. Our first sto23 was at Rugby. Ascertaining that we must remain there two or three hours^ and remembering ^ Tom Brown,' we set out to see the world-renowned school. Its buildings are large and castle-like. Any man who has resided in the county two years is entitled to send his sons to the school, to be educated free of expense. There is a pretty chapel here, and in the transept a monument to the revered Dr. Thomas Arnold. One of the stained-glass windows is also in memory of him, and the words beneath it seemed to me particularly touching and appropriate : —

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^And Jesus said unto him, Thomas, because thou hast seen me thou hast believed : blessed are they who have not seen, and yet have believed.'

The name of Arnold seems to be revered by every one in Rugby, and his best monument is the school for which he did so much. He buried creeds and lived by the Golden Rule.

Our next halt was at Leamington, and here we are, feeling quite like citizens. The town is crowded with visitors, and we were most fortunate in findino- rooms at a small hotel which

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had just been vacated by Americans. This town is a health resort and a fashionable and popular one. There are four medicinal springs, each one different from the others in remedial properties. The streets of the town are broad, shaded by grand old trees that form perfect arches for long distances. The residences are immense and very handsome, some quite palatial ; but seeing 'To Let' on many of them, we came to the conclusion that they were too expensive for the owners to live in, but were afterwards told that the richest and most cultivated people of the place rent their houses for almost fabulous sums, for the months of May

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and June, and take that time to travel themselves, on the Continent. Near the royal pumproom, at the beautiful Jephson Gardens, on the banks of the river Leam, in the little parks, in the streets, and everywhere else here, we see bath-chairs on wheels — people of all ages, from infants to aged men and women, being drawn in them by their servants. I thought at first they must all be invalids from some cause, but it seems not : many are being trolled about in this manner for enjoyment. The drives in the town and about its suburbs are of unrivalled beauty. We stood under the shade of a large oak tree, said to be in the very centre of England. From here we made an excursion to Stratford, which town has, if possible, an older look than Chester. We asked a little girl to direct us to the church where Shakespeare was buried. She looked somewhat frightened, and answered, ' He is not buried ; he keeps store down that way.' It was evident the little tot was not Stratford-born. We sauntered along, and soon met a gentleman who gave us the desired information. Walkinof throuoh a beautiful avenue of lime trees, we soon reached the church. In the chancel is the tomb of Shakespeare. A bust of the great poet is on the wall, and there is a flagstone bearing the inscription familiar to all : —

' Grood friend, for Jesvs sake forbeare To digg the dvst encloased heare : Bleste be ye man that spares thes stones. And curst be he that moves my bones.'

The church is very old, — a cruciform, with central tower and spire ; and some portions of the old carvings attracted our attention. I was much disappointed with the expression of the face of the bust : it looked as if the great man felt nauseated, and the atmosphere of the church made me feel intensely so, so close and musty was it ; so out into the air we gladly went. We strolled about in the churchyard for a while, looking at the old stones and reading the queer epitaphs. On one were these words, after the name of a wife, her age, and time of decease : ' The Lord has done great things for us, whereof we are exceeding glad.' I doubt that widowed husband being able to win wife number two. The house where the poet was born is a little old structure of wood

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and plaster, but well preserved. The walls of several of the rooms are entirely covered with names written by the sight-seers who have visited them. How strange but how true it is, that real genius nearly always springs from homes of poverty ! Everything in the town has a Shakespearian flavor. The fine fountain presented by our own countryman, George W. Childs, is a beautiful offering. The Shakespeare Memorial Buildings, in the form of a theatre, are very elegant, and contain some fine pictures. F. left me to enjoy the interior of this new edifice, saying to ^ look for her on the banks of the Avon,' and when I did so, found her sleeping in a boat, on the immortalized waters, with the willow trees on the banks throwing their shadows over her. One can scarcely help feeling tinges of romance and sentiment here, this river has been so sweetly sung of ; and yet it is a very unpretentious, quiet, narrow stream ; but memories of the Bard of Avon linger in every spot.

We were shown, at the Red Horse Hotel, the rooms which were occupied by our own Washington Irving during his visit here, and in the parlor was the 'Sexton's Clock' which he refers to in the ' Sketch Book.' We have seen the oddest names in England, for inns and boarding-houses, imaginable, such as the Pied Bull, The Elephant and the Castle, The Turtle and the Lamb, The Pig and the Whistle, The Hole in the Wall, and The Struggling Man. Now the English are not wise in the selection of such names. For my part, I should look farther for a stopping place. I would not care to try to rest in The Hole in the Wall, or to be protected by The Struggling Man.

We visited New Place, Shakespeare's home, and the Guild Chapel close by, and ended the day by taking a short drive through some of the quaint streets and the green lanes of this reposeful, historical, and beautifully situated Stratford, whose whole atmosphere seems to be that conducive to pure, high thoughts, spiritual exaltation, rest, and peace. We returned to Leamington in time for a pleasant evening drive, after a fair dinner.

June \^tli. — We slept well, and took an early breakfast, then started for Kenilworth Castle.

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It was a glorious morning. Where are the clouds and fogs of England ? We have yet seen none, and the road we were driven over was beautiful. The pastoral scenes, made up of pretty homes, cultivated fields, and flowers and ivy everywhere before and around us, made us eagerly drink all in as a sweet nectar. And, more than all, the entire way was clothed with historic interest. We could easily imagine Queen Elizabeth and her lords and ladies dashing along over this very ground in regal splendor. The castle is a ruin, but a grand one. It stands on a high hill surrounded by a wall and moat, the former now down in many places and the moat dry. The walls of the castle, sixteen feet through, are now covered with a luxuriant growth of ivy, so thick that the length of my long-handled parasol was lost in the mass of dark-g-reen leaves. When I look at this ivy and think of my little one at home, that I have carefully tended for years, and yet it is no thicker now than a jellyfish, I do not think much of English ivy torn from its mother soil. The numerous turrets and towers are also covered with the same vine, and are homes for hundreds of ravens. It is owing to the works of Scott that this old castle is of such famous interest. As we wandered from cells to banquet halls, we recalled the revellings and grandeur in the latter, and the groans in the former that could not reach the ear of mortals. In the ball-room we thought of the Earl of Leicester, who ordered all clocks stopped that Elizabeth should take no note of time. And at the entrance of the deep, dark dungeon we sighed for the suffering Amy. But, had we stayed in the ruins much longer, ruined financially should I have been, for the several ' gentlemen,' who seemed to be looking at the same objects and with the same interest as myself, and of whom I asked questions, proved to be guides or informers, and expected their shillings. ^ How could I have known it ? ' I exclaimed as F. advised me not to talk so much. Well, I fear it is true that in this country, if we ask a question, we must generally pay for the answer. ' Pity 'tis 'tis true.'

Adieu to Kenilworth, and on to Warwick, which is of itself a village of considerable size.

LETTER II.

Warwick Castle is the finest baronial residence in all England. The approach to it is charming. We passed under the arched and massive gateways into a winding avenue cut out of solid, unbroken rock, and on which the castle itself is built; each side the rocks tower far above our heads and are covered with ivy and other vines, and oh so cool and beautiful it looks ; so refreshing to us. All at once, and at an unexpected turn, the magnificent castle is in sight. The lawn in front of it, with its rare plants and parterres of gorgeous blossoms, the sparkling fountains, and the many peacocks strutting about on the velvet sward, with their gay plumage spread to its utmost extent, as if for our especial admiration, almost dazzled us. We paused to take in the scene before us, exhausting our vocabulary of adjectives in expressions of delight. Every feature of the aspect was bright, winning, and delightful. Some aristocratic terriers were grouped under the shade of a white lilac, as if holding council. Dignified swans were lazily swimming in the lake, and the red and gold uniformed Guards seemed perfectly satisfied to spend the rest of their lives in slowly pacing up and down the gravelled walks. The castle is in complete preservation, and its long list of halls, libraries, and drawing-rooms are filled with rare objects of beauty and interest, of great value. The guide who showed us through the rooms carried himself in a most stately manner : his backbone was surely made of iron, and ran up to the top of his head to hold on his bushy wig, for he could not bend his body or turn his neck. Not hearing one of his explanations in regard to a mosaic table, formerly owned by Queen Elizabeth, I asked him what he said. This 'Grand Mogul ' slowly whirled his entire breadth toward me, and articulated in a monotone these words, ' The explanation I have once rendered.' I said, ^ I am sorry I did not comprehend it, but, as you are here for the purpose of explaining, will you please tell me tlie story of the table again.' F. was dazed, but the man changed his superior attitude, and from that on through the entire castle he gave me his devoted attention. In one of the halls is a wonderful table, entirely formed of precious stones, which once belonged to the ill-fated