To H. L. K.
Knowsley,
December 29, 1885.
We arrived here late yesterday afternoon. It is a long, uninteresting journey (almost to Liverpool), was cold and foggy all the way down, and we found snow when we arrived in the Park—also a perfect gale of wind, the enormous bare, black winter trees swaying like poplars. The large house, with all the façade brightly lighted, gave us at once a cheerful welcome. Lady Derby was waiting for us in the long, low drawing-room with tea, and we went up almost immediately to dress for dinner. We had sent the servants by an earlier train, which was convenient, as they had time to unpack and have everything ready for us. We have a charming apartment—a very good-sized salon, with bedrooms large and comfortable on each side. The salon furnished in a bright chintz, and good pictures, mostly family portraits, on the walls. There were blazing fires everywhere—these enormous rocks of Liverpool coal one sees here. I instantly proceeded to demolish mine in my bedroom. Adelaïde had already tried to make the housemaid understand that her lady didn't like warm rooms, but the other one pointed to the snow under the windows, and heaped on her pieces of coal.
Dinner was at 8 punctually (which was a contrast to Hatfield, where we had been staying the other day. There dinner was easily half past eight, and after we had been at table some little time various friends and members of the family appeared, and slid quietly into their places at the end of the very long table). There is a large family party here and some other guests, including the two historians, Froude and Lecky, both most interesting.
Knowsley Hall
The Earl of Derby's place at Prescot Lancashire
We dined in a fine hall with family portraits of all the Derbys, from the first one at Bosworth down to the present Earl, who is the 16th Earl of Derby. There was beautiful plate on the table—fine racing cups—as the Stanleys were always quite as much racing men as statesmen. These are such curious things in England, the love of sport is so strong. Fancy any of our statesmen, Thiers, Guizot, Dufaure, etc., with racing stables. Lord Derby is very easy and rather inclined to chaff Americans a little, but I didn't mind. The evening was short after we adjourned to the drawing-room. Lady Derby is rather delicate, and is suffering just now from a bad eye. I sat some time in my comfortable room upstairs, but was glad to get to bed early after the cold journey. W. went off to the fumoir, and had a most interesting talk over Ireland and Irish questions with Mr. Lecky. This morning was awful; snow, sleet, and a cold rain—however, the sportsmen were not to be deterred by any such mild obstacle, and started at 9.30 in a big break with four horses. I watched the departure from my window, and was very glad I was not going to make any such expedition. I had my breakfast upstairs, and had an amusing explanation with the housemaid who appeared at 9.30 with an enormous tray and breakfast enough for a family—tea, beefsteaks, cold partridges, eggs, rolls, toast, potatoes, buns and fruit—you never saw such a meal. She couldn't believe that I only wanted tea and toast and an egg (which was an extra, but as I knew we should only lunch at two, and I am accustomed to have my déjeuner à la fourchette at 12, I was sure I should be hungry if I didn't take something), and asked me most respectfully if I was not well, and would like something else—"a little soup perhaps."
I went downstairs about 12 and found the ladies in the drawing-room all complaining of the cold. Lady Derby took me over the house—it has not the beautiful proportions of Hatfield—is long, low, and rambling, but most comfortable. The library is a fine room with deep window recesses, and most comfortable with a bright fire burning. The librarian was there and showed us some of his treasures, among them an old copy of the "Roman de la Rose," and various old manuscripts. We went on to the dining-room, and Lady Derby explained the family portraits to me. The long, unbroken line of Earls of Derby is most interesting, and the change in the portraits for the two or three generations where the French blood shows itself, most curious. The wife of the Earl of Derby who died on the scaffold, giving his life for his King, was the famous Charlotte de la Trémouille, who defended her castle—Lathom House—so gallantly against Fairfax and his Roundheads. Do you remember one of our school-room books in America, "Heroines of History," where there was a description of the siege of Lathom House, and a picture of the Countess of Derby standing on the ramparts in a riding habit and hat and feathers and apparently loading a cannon herself and showing a gunner how to point it?
The portraits are most interesting; first the regular Saxon type, then the French streak, pale oval faces, and dark eyes and hair (not unlike the Stuarts, who have always a foreign look); then the true British, more and more accentuated down to the present Earl. They have also in one of the halls the block on which the Lord Derby knelt who was beheaded in 1631.
The sportsmen arrived about tea-time, apparently neither cold nor tired, and having had a fine shoot.