Letter No. 11.
Wednesday, October 29th, Brunswick Hotel, Boston.
I sent you a letter on Monday, and I will now begin another, which may be the last from these shores. On Tuesday, Mrs. Pickering, the wife of the astronomer at Cambridge, called early "to be of use," but I was engaged to lunch out with the Winthrops, so we arranged to meet to-day. Dick went to play the organ at Advent Church, and was delighted with it, full of ingenious mechanism. At half-past twelve Hedley and I met him at the station, and Mr. Perkins met us, and we found Mrs. Winthrop's carriage at Brooktines. Mr. Perkins is a very accomplished man, lived a long time in Germany to study music, and in Italy to study Art generally. He looks very like Mr. Henry Sidgwick, and you would never guess he was an American. The drive through Brooklines was very pretty; we saw three large trees of a pure gold colour on the greenest turf in one place, which had a lovely effect. The Winthrop's house is not furnished with aesthetic taste, but there were some good pictures. Mr. Winthrop has been married three times, and the present wife was married before, so there is rather a confusion of families. Her daughter only lives with them, and is affected with a sort of St. Vitus's dance, which made it rather trying for Hedley to take her in to luncheon; but I never saw anyone who seemed less self-conscious or more at her ease than this poor girl, and her mother is devoted to her, and shewed us her picture in great triumph. We had Mr. Packman, the historian of Canada, at luncheon, and Mr. Richardson, a celebrated architect, formerly a slave owner in the Southern States, who liberated his slaves before the war, but was a "rebel," and lost his all, and had to work for his living. Mr. Packman said he thought Canada was improving wonderfully, but (as the English when we were there had told us), the French element multiplies with extraordinary rapidity, and they are a compact body under the control of their priests, and so carry all political questions their own way; consequently, but little progress is made in the province of Quebec. Mr. Packman is a Republican, but is going to vote for the Democratic candidate, Mr. Cleveland, because he believes him to be an honest man, and that Blaine would bring the country into difficulties. I wish some of our Republicans would come here and learn a lesson of conscientious independence! There were some ladies besides, but I did not make out their names. At last luncheon was ready, and such a nasty luncheon! Great oysters, and raw beef, and dried-up partridges, and the never failing blocks of ice-cream, which sounds very nice, but one gets tired of it, especially when it makes one ill! However, the mental food was very good, and Mr. Winthrop, who knows everyone, spoke to me of Gladstone. He thinks he "is a man of many words; he knows something of everything, and a good deal of some things," but on the whole he evidently does not trust his statemanship. He knew the late Lord Lytton and his wife, and met her after their quarrel at Roger's, the poet, and thought her a very fine clever woman, with charms of manner. Lord Lytton he thought very unpleasant; very deaf, and sensitive about it, and would not use his trumpet. Macaulay was very ponderous, and had a Niagara flow of language. He always engrossed all conversation, and one got tired of listening. Mr. Winthrop greatly enjoyed the coming of age of Lord Cranbourne, at Hatfield, to which he was invited, and he thinks Lord Salisbury's speaking more interesting than Gladstone's,—that the House of Lords might make some compromise about the Redistribution Bill, and that it would be an immense pity for England to lose the three estates of the realm, and the Established church. "We don't want you to become a Republic, but keep up the standard of good government for the rest of the world." Afterwards we went to Mr. Augustus Lowell's, and there we found all vehement for Blaine! I did not agree with their arguments, but listened to all very meekly and attentively! They also urged us, as every one else, not to give in to the idea of universal suffrage, which is the bane, they say, of politics in this country, and causes all their difficulties. After tea we drove home five miles in Mr. Winthrop's carriage; I like her very much, and she has more softness of manner, being a Southerner, than the Americans sometimes have. Wednesday we met Mrs. Pickering at the station, and after a short railway journey, drove to the beautiful grounds of Wellesley College, founded by a rich American, Mr. Durrant, for girls over sixteen. Three separate buildings, and a pretty lake, and a very interesting President, Miss Freeman, about thirty. After seeing the perfect and numerous arrangements made for the education of the young women, chemistry-rooms, libraries, statuary, &c., &c., and making acquaintance with some of the lady professors, we had luncheon with hundreds of girls; some of these pay less, (the regular payment is forty-five dollars or pounds, I forget which, a year), and have some light work to do, wait on us, &c. I can't say the luncheon was good! the beef hard, and I had only bread and jam! I thought "unless they have a really good breakfast and dinner, these young women will not be able to bear the strain on their mental and bodily powers." After this innocent meal, six young girls, dressed in blue serge and white costumes, with hats of the shape of undergraduate's, rowed us in two boats, one painted blue with light oars, the other white, and the girls rowing it also in white costumes; our blue captain was a very pretty bright girl, just the type one reads of in novels as the American girl, (but not a lady in the American view, or our own,) and she chatted away, and led the others in some pretty songs, while they rested on their oars, and then we were obliged to hurry away. One of the professors told me now clever the captain was, and another asked me to send six copies of Hedley's Memoirs for the Sunday Lending Library here, with my name, "which they should value so much." We returned to Cambridge, and kind Mrs. Pickering, who is very good looking and energetic, took us to Harvard College, and we saw the Memorial Hall, and interesting Gymnasium, where the young men were practising all kinds of wonderful exercises. We got home very tired, and at seven o'clock dined with Mr. and Mrs. Perkins. Mrs. Perkins, like her mother, Mrs. Bruen, has had great experiences in Spiritualism, and believes it is not good.
Thursday, 30th.—At Mrs. Pruyn's, Albany.—We left Boston about eleven o'clock, and found her carriage and cart waiting for us at station, and received a most kind welcome. She is a rather stout woman, of about forty, who has been very pretty, and has two daughters of sixteen and eleven, and a stepson who is very delicate. Mrs. Pruyn is very rich, (everything having been left to her as usual here), and the house is filled with beautiful gold and silver-plate, and china and books, and curiosities of all sorts. She seems very energetic and good in all relations of life. Some people dined,—her father, Judge Parker, Mr. and Mrs. Kidd, Mr. Ledgard, of old Dutch extraction, which is very common here and in the States generally, and lives in the country Canzenovia, on the shores of a lake. His family have been there for generations.
Friday, 31st.—We all went to see the Capitol, an enormous and handsome building not yet completed, but what I cared for much more, we saw the President, or rather I should say, the candidate, Governor Cleveland. He talked with us some minutes, and seemed a simple, honest kind of man, without vulgarity, but not of society manners or attractiveness. I wished him success, for which he thanked me cordially. The poor man is hunted to death by men and meetings of all sorts. So we did not stay long. I caught cold in this hot place, (they do burn such fearful furnaces in the houses here), and I could not go out again.
Saturday.—Remained in bed till four o'clock to-day, and then got up to tea, Mrs. Pruyn's sister, Mrs. Corney, such a nice cheerful woman, with a face something like Lisa's, and Mrs. Evans, with a handsome niece, came to lunch yesterday, Miss Pruyn drove Hedley in a nice pony carriage. At dinner we had General and Mrs. Mirvan, another sister, and Dr. Holms, Librarian in the Capitol. This afternoon two presents of flowers came for me; they all went to church in the morning, being All Saints' day. The Evans asked us all to dine, but Mrs. Pruyn had company at home. Mr. Palmer, son of the man who sculptured "Faith," so often photographed, and the clergyman of St. Peter's, Dr. Battershall, who was very pleasant, and talked nicely of Mr. Rainsford, son of Mr. Rainsford of Halkin street, who has done wonders in New York, at St. George's. The American religious people are far less narrow minded and censorious than we are; one sect or party can see that a great deal of good and successful work is done by another! Mrs. Pruyn is decidedly ritualistic, but she is quite sorry I shall not be here next week, to hear Moody and Sankey, who are to hold meetings. A Miss Lansing dined here, and seems a very touchy American-loving person, and snubbed the boys if they hinted anything here was not perfection.
Sunday, 2nd.—Heard a good sermon from Dr. Battershall, at St. Peter's, on "Seeing Him who is invisible,"—the Apostle's definition of faith. We remained to Holy Communion. He is evidently fond of ritual, but there was nothing really objectionable. In the evening we all went to Judge Parker's, and Mrs. Parker, who had not left her room for some weeks, came down to see me, and is a very nice old lady; all the daughters and their husbands, and the widower son, came to heavy tea, a regular custom in the family—then Dick played, and we sung hymns.
Monday, 3rd.—Had a delightful drive with Mrs. Pruyn in the morning, violet mountains (the Caltgills) in the distance, with brilliant foreground of autumn tinted trees, and golden fields, and a bright sun shining on all, made a pretty picture; the streets and roads here are very bad, as generally in America; really one drives over boulders of stone in some of the streets here, and they say, "it can't be helped, the municipal corporation have it in their own hands." Our kind hostess has given me a pretty dusting brush and a book, &c., and is going to send me a box of biscuits I liked, for the voyage home. Mrs. Pickering has sent me a pretty little case, with my initials on it. We left Albany at twenty minutes to three, and much enjoyed the scenery on the banks of the Hudson en route to New York, but it got dark before we came to the prettiest part, and we did not get settled in this Hotel Brunswick till past eight o'clock.
Tuesday, 4th.—After a better night I awoke, feeling less uncomfortable, but I have not been at all well lately, and I suppose that what I want is rest and a different diet. I found dear Mary's letter, and one from Clara. I shall not hear any more, I suppose, now, till I meet Edward, &c., at Ampton Hall, on the 20th inst. We all agree our hearts are "homeward bound" now, and the dear old Grandie will, please God, welcome us back in health and peace. I have had lots of visitors this morning and afternoon. To-night we dine with my Philadelphia friend, Mrs. B. Moore.
Later.—We met Monseigneur Capel at dinner, and Major Recard Seaver, and a Miss Hooker. Crowds all about the hotel (Fifth Avenue); electoral returns put up in front of an electric light near it, and cheers as they appeared to favour one side or another from the dense crowd. Monseigneur Capel is handsome and agreeable, but he did not impress me at all as a sincere or saintly person. We had to make our way home through a great crush, but there was nothing unpleasant. The Republicans have had it all their own way for more than twenty years, and have, of course, become tyrannical and corrupt, so no wonder the best of them support Cleveland, who is believed to be honest, and has proved himself capable and sensible as Governor of New York. The cheering and groaning went on all night, which was not conducive to sound slumber. They cheer and groan in unison, which has a curious effect.