We performed the journey from Liverpool to London, a distance of 240 miles, in five hours. John, Laura and little Pearl met us at Euston Station, and we were soon whirled away in cabs to 24 Upper Woburn Place, Tavistock Square, John’s residence. Dinner was soon ready, a most bountiful repast. We spent the remainder of the day visiting and enjoying ourselves generally. It seemed so good to be at the end of the journey, although we had only two days of really unpleasant weather on the voyage. John and Laura are so kind and hospitable. They have a beautiful home, lovely children and apparently every comfort and luxury which this world can afford.
Sunday, July 22.—We went to Spurgeon’s Tabernacle this morning to listen to this great preacher, with thousands of others. I had never looked upon such a sea of faces before, as I beheld from the gallery where we sat. The pulpit was underneath one gallery, so there seemed as many people over the preacher’s head, as there were beneath and around him and the singing was as impressive as the sermon. I thought of the hymn, “Hark ten thousand harps and voices, Sound the notes of praise above.” Mr. Spurgeon was so lame from rheumatism that he used two canes and placed one knee on a chair beside him, when preaching. His text was “And there shall be a new heaven and a new earth.” I found that all I had heard of his eloquence was true.
Sunday, July 29.—We have spent the entire week sightseeing, taking in Hyde Park, Windsor Castle, Westminster Abbey, St. Paul’s Cathedral, the Tower of London and British Museum. We also went to Madame Tussaud’s exhibition of wax figures and while I was looking in the catalogue for the number of an old gentleman who was sitting down apparently asleep, he got up and walked away! We drove to Sydenham ten miles from London, to see the Crystal Palace which Abbie called the “Christmas Palace.” Mr. Alexander Howell and Mr. Henry Chesebro of Canandaigua are here and came to see us to-day.
August 13.—Amid the whirl of visiting, shopping and sightseeing in this great city, my diary has been well nigh forgotten. The descriptive letters to home friends have been numerous and knowing that they would be preserved, I thought perhaps they would do as well for future reference as a diary kept for the same purpose, but to-day, as St. Pancras’ bell was tolling and a funeral procession going by, we heard by cable of the death of our dear, dear Grandmother, the one who first encouraged us to keep a journal of daily deeds, and who was always most interested in all that interested us and now I cannot refrain if I would, from writing down at this sad hour, of all the grief that is in my heart. I sorrow not for her. She has only stepped inside the temple-gate where she has long been waiting for the Lord’s entrance call. I weep for ourselves that we shall see her dear face no more. It does not seem possible that we shall never see her again on this earth. She took such an interest in our journey and just as we started I put my dear little Abigail Beals Clarke in her lap to receive her parting blessing. As we left the house she sat at the front window and saw us go and smiled her farewell.
August 20.—Anna has written how often Grandmother prayed that “He who holds the winds in his fists and the waters in the hollow of his hands, would care for us and bring us to our desired haven.” She had received one letter, telling of our safe arrival and how much we enjoyed going about London, when she was suddenly taken ill and Dr. Hayes said she could never recover. Anna’s letter came, after ten days, telling us all the sad news, and how Grandmother looked out of the window the last night before she was taken ill, and up at the moon and stars and said how beautiful they were. Anna says, “How can I ever write it? Our dear little Grandmother died on my bed to-day.”
August 30.—John, Laura and their nurse and baby John, Aunt Ann Field and I started Tuesday on a trip to Scotland, going first to Glasgow where we remained twenty-four hours. We visited the Cathedral and were about to go down into the crypt when the guide told us that Gen. Sherman of U.S.A. was just coming in. We stopped to look at him and felt like telling him that we too were Americans. He was in good health and spirits, apparently, and looked every inch a soldier with his cloak a-la-militaire around him. We visited the Lochs and spent one night at Inversnaid on Loch Lomond and then went on up Loch Katrine to the Trossachs. When we took the little steamer, John said, “All aboard for Naples,” it reminded him so much of Canandaigua Lake. We arrived safely in Edinburgh the next day by rail and spent four days in that charming city, so beautiful in situation and in every natural advantage. We saw the window from whence John Knox addressed the populace and we also visited the Castle on the hill. Then we went to Melrose and visited the Abbey and also Abbotsford, the residence of Sir Walter Scott. We went through the rooms and saw many curios and paintings and also the library. Sir Walter’s chair at his desk was protected by a rope, but Laura, nothing daunted, lifted the baby over it and seated him there for a moment saying “I am sure, now, he will be clever.” We continued our journey that night and arrived in London the next morning.
Ventnor, Isle of Wight, September 9.—Aunt Ann, Laura’s sister, Florentine Arnold, nurse and two children, Pearl and Abbie, and I are here for three weeks on the seashore.
September 16.—We have visited all the neighboring towns, the graves of the Dairyman’s daughter and little Jane, the young cottager, and the scene of Leigh Richmond’s life and labors. We have enjoyed bathing in the surf, and the children playing in the sands and riding on the donkeys.
We have very pleasant rooms, in a house kept by an old couple, Mr. and Mrs. Tuddenham, down on the esplanade. They serve excellent meals in a most homelike way. We have an abundance of delicious milk and cream which they tell me comes from “Cowes”!
London, September 30.—Anna has come to England to live with John for the present. She came on the Adriatic, arriving September 24. We are so glad to see her once more and will do all in our power to cheer her in her loneliness.