I Could Not
Help Thinking, As I Was Walking Up And Down The Beautiful Paths Of
Claremont Park, With The
Fresh spring air blowing about me, the
primroses, daisies, and wild bluebells under my feet, and Lady Byron
at my
Side, that it was more like a page out of a poem than a
reality.
On Sunday night any Americans who are here come to see us. . . . Mr.
Harding brought with him a gentleman, whom he introduced as Mr.
Alison. Mr. Bancroft asked him if he were related to Archdeacon
Alison, who wrote the "Essay on Taste." "I am his son," said he.
"Ah, then, you are the brother of the historian?" said Mr. Bancroft.
"I am the historian," was the reply. . . . An evening visitor is a
thing unheard of, and therefore my life is very lonely, now I do not
go into society. I see no one except Sunday evenings, and,
occasionally, a friend before dinner.
LETTER: To W.D.B. and A.B.
LONDON, May 24, [1847]
My dear Sons: . . . On Friday we both went to see the Palace of
Hampton Court with my dear, good, Miss Murray, Mr. Winthrop and son,
and Louise. . . . On our arrival, we found, to our great vexation,
that Friday was the only day in the week in which visitors were not
admitted, and that we must content ourselves with seeing the grounds
and go back without a glimpse of its noble galleries of pictures.
Fortunately for us, Miss Murray had several friends among the
persons to whom the Queen has assigned apartments in the vast
edifice, and they willingly yielded their approbation of our
admission if she could possibly win over Mrs. Grundy, the
housekeeper.
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