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Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

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http://www.archive.org/details/correspondenceof01motluoft 


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THE 


CORRESPONDENCE 


OF 


JOHN   LOTHROP  MOTLEY, 

D.C.L., 

AUTHOR  OF  "the  HISTORY  OP  THE  RISE  OF  THE  DUTCH  REPUBLIC," 
"the  history  OP  THE  UNITED  NETHERLANDS,"  ETC. 


EDITED   BY 

GEOKGE    WILLIAM    CUKTIS. 


IN  TWO  VOLUMES.— VOL.  I. 


WITH    PORTRAIT. 


LONDON: 
JOHN    MURRAY,   ALBEMARLE   STREET. 

1889. 


■:'-o> 


LONDON: 
PRINTED  BY  WILLIAM  CLOWES  AND  SONS,  Limitbd, 

SIAStFOKD  STSEET  ASD  CHAUIKG  CK08S. 


PREFACE. 


The  admirable  Memoir  of  Mr.  Motley  by  his  friend  Oliver 
Wendell  Holmes,  renders  the  addition  of  any  biographical 
notice  to  these  volumes  unnecessary. 

The  letters  now  published  were  written  mainly  to  members 
of  his  family,  and  have  been  collected  by  his  daughters. 
Tn  preparing  them  for  publication,  the  editor  has  withheld 
whatever  he  believed  that  the  writer's  good  judgment  and 
thoughtful  consideration  for  others  would  have  omitted.  This 
rule  excludes  comments  upon  persons  and  affairs  which, 
however  innocent  or  playful,  might  cause  needless  pain  or 
misapprehension.  It  excludes,  also,  much  of  the  repetition 
which  naturally  occurs  in  such  letters,  and  a  large  part  of 
the  domestic  and  friendly  messages  and  allusions,  which 
although  illustrating  the  writer's  generous  sympathy  and 
affectionate  disposition,  are  essentially  private.  If  much  of 
such  matter  is  still  left,  it  is  because,  with  all  his  interest  in 
literary  pursuits  and  in  public  affairs,  Mr.  Motley  was  essen- 
tially a  domestic  man,  and  a  more  rigid  exclusion  could  not 
have  been  made  without  injustice  to  his  character.  Otherwise 
the  letters  are  printed  as  they  were  written. 

Occasional  breaks  in  the  series  of  letters — especially  after 
the  death  of  Mr.  Motley's  mother,  with  whom  he  maintained  a 
full  and  affectionate  correspondence  for  forty  years — are  due 
chiefly  to  the  fact  that,  when  surrounded  by  his  family  and 
engrossed  by  many  cares,  he  had  but  little  inclination  or 
leisure  for  friendly  letter- writing.     This  was  the  case  in  1870 ; 


iv  PREFACE. 

and  the  editor  has  been  able  to  give  but  two  letters  written 
during  that  year — one  addressed  to  the  Duchess  of  Argyll, 
and  the  other  to  Dr.  Holmes. 

The  circumstances  of  Mr.  Motley's  resignation  of  the  mission 
to  Austria,  and  of  his  retirement  from  the  English  mission,  are 
told  accurately  and  adequately  in  Dr.  Holmes's  Memoir.  The 
publication  of  private  correspondence  upon  the  subject  would 
add  nothing  to  the  facts  as  related  by  the  biographer,  and 
would  needlessly  re-open  controversy.  Mr.  Motley's  deep 
feeling  upon  the  subject,  however,  which  was  well  known  to 
his  friends,  is  expressed  in  a  few  brief  allusions  which  have 
been  retained  in  the  letters  now  published,  and  for  the  facts 
the  reader  is  referred  to  the  Memoir. 


CONTENTS  TO  YOL.  I. 


CHAPTER  I. 

EARLY  YEARS. 

FAOB 

Letters  from  school — Studies  and  pastimes — Death  of  Governor  Brooks 
— '  Lionel  Lincoln ' — Goes  to  Round  Hill  School — Cooper's  novels 
— 'Hope  Leslie' 1 


CHAPTER  II. 

GERMANY:    UNIVERSITY  LIFE. 


First  voyage  to  Europe — Cuxhaven — The  weather  during  the  voyage — 
Incidents  of  the  voyage — Gottingen — Arrangements  for  his  first 
Semester  at  the  University — Plans  for  the  vacation — The  German 
language — Account  of  journey  from  Hamburg  to  Gottingen — Ger- 
man postilions — The  Hartz  Mountains — German  university  life^ — 
Costume  of  the  students  —  Duelling  customs — "  Briiderschaft " — 
Plesse  Castle — George  Washington's  letter  on  the  Humane  Society 
— Berlin — Studying  Law — Public  galleries  and  public  money — 
Daily  routine  at  Berlin — Amusements — Taglioni — Devrient — Goetz 
von  Berlichingen — The  "  Vons  and  the  not-Vons  " — Visit  to  Potsdam 
— Plans  for  the  future      ........       10 


CHAPTER  IIL 

AUSTRIA — FRANCE — ITALY. 


Vienna — Madame  de  Goethe — Tieck  and  his  works — Journey  from 
Vienna  to  Styria,  Tyrol,  etc. — German  postilions — Rtyrian  Alps — 
Molk — Amstetten — Neubach — St.  Florian — Salzburg — An  ancient 
hermitage — Burial  customs — Hallein — Salt  mines — Salzach  Valley 
— Bad-Gastein — Nassfeld — "Old  Testament  scenery" — A  remote 
village — Rome — The  Ai;)ollo  Belvedere — Naples — Hadrian's  villa — 
Reviving  old  scenes — Guide's  Aurora — Reflections  on  the  art  treasures 


vi  CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

of  Rome — Tour  in  Sicily — Catania — Taormina — Classical  associa- 
tions— Etna — An  ascent  under  difficulties — An  arduous  climb — And 
a  disappointment — Girgenti — A  perilous  voyage  to  Malta — Return 
to  Paris— Salisbury  Cathedral — Comparison  of  English  and  foreign 
cathedrals — Stonehenge    ........       3;> 


CHAPTER  IV. 


Mr.  lilotley's  marriage — Voyage  to  Europe — Discomforts  of  steamers — 
Manchester — The  MacLeod  case — London — En  route  to  St.  Peters- 
burg— Lord  Lyndhurst — Mr.  Clarke — Sir  Charles  Vaughan — Prussia 
— Her  vicissitudes  and  her  condition — Konigsberg — A  local  legend — 
Tilsit — Tauroggen — Arrival  at  St.  Petersburg — Russian  winter — 
Official  formalities — Expenses  of  living — The  climate  of  Russia — John 
Randolph's  despatch — Russian  society — The  Winter  Palace — Pre- 
sentation at  Court — Court  formalities — The  Czar — A  Court  ball — The 
Grand  Duke  Michael — More  presentations — Count  Levachofl's  house 
— Miss  Porter — Taglioni — Resignation  of  Secretaryship  of  Legation — ■ 
Nesselrode— Sir  "William  Wylie — Peter  the  Great — St.  Petersburg 
and  its  public  institutions — Casimir  Perier — Quarrel  between  French 
and  Russian  Courts — Journey  to  Berlin — Halle,  a  quizzical  town — 
Maurice  church  and  its  legend — Weimar — Madame  de  Goethe — 
Frtinkfort-on-the-Main  —  Paris  —  Guizot  —  Thiers  as  a  speaker — 
Brussels — John  van  Eyck,  the  inventor  of  oil-painting — Diary  in 
Russia — The  Great  Bazaar — How  it  is  guarded  at  night — Russian 
taxes  and  Guilds  —  Food  supply  —  Army  —  Manufactures  —  The 
Blessing  of  the  AVaters — Peter  the  Great's  house — Military  hospitals 
— The  Hermitage  Gallery — Orphan  asylums         ....       62 


CHAPTER   V. 

COMMENCEMENT   OF   THE   '  HISTORY  ' — EESIDENCE  AT   DRESDEN. 

Commencement  of  the  '  History  of  the  Rise  of  the  Dutch  Republic ' — 
Arrival  in  Europe — The  Rhine — Holland — The  duel  with  the  sea — 
Polders — The  Dutch  Masters — Dresden — Its  climate — The  Opera — 
Sontag — A  picnic  excursion — Prospects  of  the  Presidential  election 
— The  Madonna  di  San  Sisto — The  Green  Vaults — Progress  of  the 

*  History ' — Prince  John  of  Saxony — Death  of  Daniel  Webster — 

•  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin '  and  the  Slavery  Question — The  King  and 
Queen  of  Saxony — The  Court  and  its  etiquette — Marriage  of  Princess 
Vasa  and  Prince  Albert — Court  festivities    .....     122 


CONTENTS.  VII 

CHAPTER  VI. 

PUBLICATION  OF  'THE   BI8E   OF   THE  DUTCH   BEPUBLIC' 

PAOR 

The  Hague — Residence  at  Brussels — Mr.  Motley's  daughters — Letter  to 
Dr.  0.  W.  Holmes  —  Daily  life  at  Brussebj  —  Companions  of  past 
generations — The  River  Senne — The  Archives — Literary  silkworms 
— Rubens  and  his  art — The  Shakespeare  of  painting — Arrival  in 
London — Mr.  Forsyth— Preliminaries  of  publication — John  Murray 
— English  and  American  politics  compared — Preparations  for  publi- 
cation— Mr.  Prescott — Frankfort — Basel — Visit  to  Herr  von  Bismarck 
— His  character  and  career — His  family  life — Return  to  England — 
An  English  hotel — Florence — Theodore  S.  Fay — Paris  under  Louis 
Napoleon — Americans  in  Florence — Miss  Alexander — Thomas  Ball 
— Mr.  Motley's  constitutional  melancholy — Description  of  Florence 
— Her  brilliant  past — Her  achievements  and  her  feuds — Her  present 
condition — Publication  of  the  '  History  of  the  Dutch  Republic  ' — 
Mr.  Prescott's  praise  of  it — Criticisms  in  the  English  and  in  the 
American  press — Sorrento — Letters  about  the  'History'  from  Mr. 
T.  S.  Fay— Dr.  0.  W.  Holmes— Mr.  C.  C.  Felton— Letter  to  Dr. 
0.  W.  Holmes  on  his  poem — Letters  about  the  *  History '  from  Mr.  G. 
Bancroft  and  Washington  Irving         .         .  .         .         .         .158 


CHAPTER  VII. 

BBU8SELS — AT   WORK   ON   'THE   UNITED   NETHEBLAND8.' 

Letter  to  Dr.  0.  W.  Holmes — ^Access  to  the  State  Paper  Office — Nice  in 
December — Work  on  the '  History  of  the  United  Netherlands ' — At 
Brussels,  and  in  Holland — M.  Gachard — M.  Groen  van  Prinsterer 
— Reception  of  the  '  Dutch  Republic '  in  Holland — Dutch  society — 
The  Hague — Work  at  the  Archives  in  Brussels — And  in  Paris — Visit 
to  the  Bismarcks — Frankfort     .......     204 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

LONDON  SOCIETY. 


Madame  de  Bismarck — Journey  down  the  Rhine — And  to  London — 
Letter  to  Dr.  0.  W.  Holmes — Literary  despondency — The  '  Autocrat 
of  the  Breakfast  Table ' — Stale  metaphors — Thackeray's  praise  of  the 
•  Autocrat ' — London  Society — The  Cosmopolitan — William  Stirling 
— Monckton  Milnes — Mr.  A.  H.  Layard — The  State  Paper  OflBce — 
Dinner  at  the  Mackintoshes — W.  M.  Thackeray — Lord  Carlisle — The 


Viii  CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  IX. 
LONDON  SOCIETY — continued. 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE  HAGUE. 

Work  at  the  Hague— The  National  Archives— Presentation  to  the  Queen 
of  Holland — "  The  House  in  the  Wood  " — A  Royal  dinner-party — 
Prince  Frederick — The  American  Revivalists — Lord  Dunfermline — 


PAGE 


Athenseum — The  Derby — The  Opera — Alboni — Piccolomini — Lord 
and  Lady  Lyndhurst — Mr.  Henry  Reeve — Chiswick  House — Sir  C. 
Lyell — Lady  Byron — Dinner  at  Thackeray's — Lord  Macaulay — 
Clubs — The  Guild  of  Authors — Dean  Milman — England's  "  delicious 
women  of  sixty  " — Thackeray's  lecture  at  Lady  Stanley's — Mrs. 
Norton — A  dinner  with  Mr.  Peabody — "The  Leviathan" — Lady 
Stanley — The  Duchess  of  Somerset — Breakfast  party  at  Wimbledon 
Park — Lord  John  Russell — English  politics — The  "  Derby-Dizzies  " 
— Disraeli's  speech  at  Slough — The  Grandmothers  of  England — ■ 
Marquis  of  Lansdowne — Dinner  at  Lady  Airlie's — Henry  Hallam — 
The  Charity  Children  in  St.  Paul's— The  Chapter  Coffee-house— The 
Temple  Church — Dinner  with  Lord  Palmerston — Lord  Clarendon — 
Baron  Brunnow — Abraham  Hay  ward — Sir  R.  Murchison — Lady 
William  Russell — A  Richmond  dinner — Lord  Brougham  and  Lord 
Lyndhurst — Lord  Stratford  de  Redcliffe — The  House  of  Commons — 
Dinner  at  Lansdowne  House — Mrs.  Norton's  description  of  Disraeli — 
Lord  Goderich — Lord  Brougham  on  the  Slave  Trade — Breakfast  and 
dinner  parties — Madame  Mohl — House  of  Lords — Debate  on  Cuba  .     220 


London  dinner  parties — Pembroke  Lodge — Lady  J.  Russell — Sir  H. 
Seymour — Lord  Gifford — Dufferin  Lodge — Cliveden — The  Duchess 
of  Sutherland — Breakfast  with  Monckton  Milnes — Thackeray  at  work 
— Danby  Seymour — Harrow  speeches — The  Rothschilds — Stafford 
House — "An  honest  diner-out" — Concert  at  Lansdowne  House — 
Lord  Stanhope— "Owen  Meredith  "—"  Tom  Brown  "—Hat  field— 
S.  Wilberforce — Lord  Shaftesbury — Lord  Denbigh — Dinner  at  Chis- 
Avick  House — Holland  House — Stoke  Park — Gray's '  Elegy ' — Dinner 
at  Holland  House — Lord  Macaulay — Lord  Clarendon — Cassiobury 
Park — A  series  of  dinner  parties — Bath  House  —Ball  at  Apsley  House 
—  India  Debate  in  House  of  Lords  —  Lord  Wensleydale  —  Mount 
Felix  —  East  Horsley  Towers  —  Hayward  —  Prince  Frederick  of 
Schleswig-Holstein — Mr.  Kinglake— Journey  to  the  Hague    .         .     274 


CONTENTS. 


Family  anniversaries — A  Dutch  literary  celebrity — The  King  of 
Holland — Court  fetes — Court  ball  in  Amsterdam — Prince  Henry — 
The  Prince  of  Orange 303 


CHAPTER  XI. 

ROME — PARIS. 

Rome — Allibone's  notice  of  the  *  History ' — Other  letters  of  commenda- 
tion— Work  on  the  '  History  of  the  United  Netherlands ' — Its  diffi- 
culties— Want  of  a  hero — Mr.  Story — Letter  from  M.  Guizot  about 
the  '  Dutch  Republic ' — The  Prince  of  Wales  in  Rome — Outbreak 
of  the  War  in  Italy — -Mr.  Motley  and  family  go  to  Paris — Causes  and 
prospects  of  the  War — Return  to  England — Gloomy  prospects  of 
European  politics    .........     315 


CHAPTER  XII. 

RBSIDESCE   IN    ENGLAND— PUBLICATIOK   OF   'THE   UNITED   NETHERLANDS.' 

Oatlands  Park — Difficulties  of  his  work — Lon  Ion  in  November — William 
Stirling — East  Sheen — Professor  Owen — Mr.  and  Mrs.  Grote — John 
Mun*ay  and  the  *  History  of  the  United  Netherlands' — Letter  from 
M.  Guizot  proposing  Mr.  Motley  a  Corresponding  Member  of  the 
French  Academy — Letter  to  Dr.  0.  W.  Holmes  about  the  '  Autocrat' 
— International  copyright — Mr.  Motley's  affection  for  England — 
American  and  European  politics — Letter  from  Mr.  N.  Hawthorne — 
*  The  Marble  Faun ' — Letter  from  Dr.  0.  W.  Holmes — Political  and 
literary  affairs  in  the  States — Praise  of  the  '  Dutch  Republic ' — The 
Royal  Academy  dinner— D.C.L.  at  Oxford — Oxford  commemoration 
— Letter  from  Lady  Dufiferin  to  Mrs.  Norton — Lady  Dufiferin  and  her 
son — Approaching  completion  of  the  '  United  Netherlands ' — Lord 
de  Grey— Studley  Royal — Fountains  Abbey — Sidney  Herbert — Visits 
in  Scotland — Keir — Glen  Quoich — Mr.  and  Mrs.  Ellice — Inveraray — 
The  Duke  of  Argyll — Taymouth — Lord  Breadalbane — The  Prince  of 
Wales'  visit  to  America — Election  of  Abraham  Lincoln — -Publica- 
tion of  the  first  two  volumes  of  the  '  United  Netherlands  ' — Letters 
of  acknowledgment  from  M.  St.  Hilaire  and  from  M.  Guizot  .         .     329 


CHAPTER  XIIL 

THE   CRISIS   IN   AMERICA. 


The  Slavery  Question  in  America — A  dangerous  outlook — Letter  from 
Dr.  0.  W.  Holmes  on  the  labours  of  an  historian — The  gathering 
VOL.  I.  h 


CONTENTS. 


PAGS 


storm — Literary  gossip  from  Boston — Publication  and  reception  of 
the  *  United  Netherlands'  in  America — The  Secessionists  and  public 
opinion  in  England — Charles  Dickens — Mr.  Wilkie  Collins — Letter 
from  Mr.  W.  E.  Forster  on  the  crisis  in  America — Letter  to  Dr.  0. 
W.  Holmes — '  Elsie  Venner ' — Letter  to  the  Duchess  of  Argyll  on 
the  American  crisis — Mr.  Motley  goes  to  Boston — State  of  public 
feeling — Mr.  Motley's  letter  to  the  Times — Causes  of  the  War — 
Bitter  feeling  towards  England  —  A  "  war  of  principle  " — Unani- 
mous feeling  throughout  the  North — General  Scott — His  supposed 
plans — The  array  in  camp — Visit  to  Washington — Evacuation  of 
Harper's  Ferry — General  McClellan — Disposition  of  the  army  round 
Washington — Lord  Lyons — The  Four  Articles  of  the  Congress  of 
Paris — Mr,  Seward's  negotiations  with  England — Abraham  Lincoln 
— England's  policy — The  blockade  aud  the  cotton  crop — The  Army 
of  the  Potomac — Outpost  skirmishes — Massing  of  troops — Arlington 
House — Objects  of  the  war  misunderstood  in  England — Mr.  Chase — 
Counter  Revolution  in  Virginia  and  other  States  —  The  Slavery 
Question — England's  attitude — General  McDowell — General  Scott 
and  his  subordinates — Mr.  Montgomery  Blair — Conversation  with 
the  President  about  England — The  President's  Message.         .         .357 


LETTEES 


OF 


JOHN    LOTHEOP    MOTLEY. 


CHAPTER  I. 


EARLY  YEAES. 


Letters  from  school  —  Studies  and  pastimes  —  Death  of  Governor  Brooks — 
'Lionel  Lincoln' — Goes  to  Round  Hill  School — Cooper's  novels — 'Hope 
Leslie.' 

[At  this  time  Motley  was  ten  years  old,  and  a  pupil  at  the 
school  of  Charles  W.  Greene,  near  Boston.] 

To  his  FatJier, 

Jamaica  Plain, 

May  rsth,  1824. 

My  dear  Father, — I  want  to  see  you  very  much.  I  sup- 
pose you  remember  that  it  is  my  turn  to  come  home  on 
Saturday  next  ?  This  is  Thursday,  the  day  on  which  we  speak. 
I  was  third  best.  The  pieces  which  I  spoke  were  Mr.  Sprague's 
Prize  Prologue  and  a  most  delectable  comedy  entitled  and 
called  *The  Cruel  Tragedy  of  the  Death  of  Pyramus  and 
Thisbe,'  in  which  I  took  the  part  of  Thisbe.  My  nose  has 
bled  very  often  lately,  but  I  believe  it  will  not  bleed  much 
more.  I  have  had  a  pain  in  my  side  once  or  twice.  I  hope 
you,  mother,  and  all  the  family  are  well.  Mr.  Greene  is  very 
well.    Mrs.  Greene  has  a  headache. 

I  am,  dear  father, 

Your  affectionate  son, 

LOTHROP. 
VOL.  I.  B 


2  MOTLEY'S  LETTEES.  [Caw.  I. 

To  his  Brother. 

Boston, 
February  21st,  1825. 

MoN  CHEE  FEERE, — J'espere  que  vous  etes  bien ;  je  suis  tres 
bien.  Eduard  a  ete  indispose,  mais  il  est  mieux.  Nous 
repumes  votre  lettre  aujourd'hui,  at  nous  fumes  bien  aises 
d'apprendre  que  vous  etes  bien.  Vous  avez  ete  mepris,  car 
Monsieur  Adams  est  le  President.  Nous  cappons  maintenant, 
I'examen  doit  avoir  lieu  le  prochain  Mercredi.  Nous  tons 
sommes  tres  bien  et  nous  envoyons  bien  de  I'amour, 

Votre  affectueux  frere, 

J.  L.  M. 

(N.  B. — This  letter  was  lost,  or  it  would  have  been  sent 
before.) 

L'inauguration  du  President  etait  aujourd'hui :  I'ecole 
d'Eduard  n'etait  pas  ouvert ;  il  n'allait  pas.  Eduard  a  repu 
les  lettres.  Ecriez-vous  a  me  s'il  vous  plait  le  prochain  fois 
que  vous  ecriez  a  eux. 

J.  L.  M. 

Edward  is  now  writing  you  a  letter,  which  he  makes  quite  a 
business  of.  Our  shop  is  an  excellent  one.  We  have  made  a 
drawer,  a  thing  to  wind  twine'on,  exactly  like  those  in  grocers' 
shops.  We  have  to  write  exercises  now,  and  I  have  got  used 
to  them,  so  that  I  can  write  them  without  many  mistakes. 
There  is  a  report  that  a  flood  was  to  have  been  to-day,  but  I 
suppose  that  it  was  put  off  in  deference  to  the  President. 
Mr.  Thos.  K.  Jones  sent  round  a  card  saying  that  he  would  be 
at  his  house  on  the  4th  of  March  (to-day),  at  any  time  after 
twelve  o'clock,  to  congratulate  each  other  on  the  election  of 
John  Quincy  Adams  to  the  Presidency  of  the  United  States, 
on  which  occasion  he  expects  the  favour  of  Mr. 's  com- 
pany. Father  and  Uncle  Edward  received  one  of  them,  and 
went  (his  house  is  in  Eoxbury)  and  dined  at  Faneuil  Hall. 
Messrs.  Sprague,  Percival,  and  Wells  wrote  an  ode  on  the 
occasion,  of  which  that  of  Mr.  Percival  was  considered  the 
best. 

I  believe  Mr.  Labasse  is  going  from  Boston  to  New  York, 


1825.]  SCHOOL  DAYS.  3 

to  teach  there  during  the  summer.  I  have  not  told  you  that 
the  flood  is  postponed  till  Monday  next.  A  great  many  guns 
were  fired  this  morning,  and  continued  through  the  day. 
Mr.  Leverett's  father  is  very  sick,  for  which  reason  he  was  not 
at  school  on  Wednesday  afternoon  and  Thursday. 

Governor  Brooks  died  Monday  morning,  and  was  buried 
Thursday  privately,  as  he  made  that  request.  I  have  read 
'  Lionel  Lincoln,'  which  I  think  very  interesting.  There  is  a 
great  deal  about  the  Revolutionary  War  in  it,  and  it  contains 
a  full  account  of  the  Battle  of  Bunker's  Hill.  Lionel  Lincoln  is 
an  English  lord,  and  is  the  principal  character  in  the  book. 
When  he  comes  to  Boston,  which  he  does  in  the  beginning  ct 
the  book,  he  goes  to  a  near  relation,  called  Madame  Lechmere, 
who  is  very  rich,  and  is  another  very  principal  character  in  the 
story.  Mrs.  Lechmere's  house  is  in  Tremont  Street,  which 
Governor  Phillips  now  lives  in. 

Good-night ! 

Yours  affectionately, 

J.  L.  M. 


To  Ms  Mother. 

NortliamptoD,' 

Mmj  2Qth,  1825. 

Dear  Mother, — I  intend  to  have  now  the  pleasure  of 
writing  you  a  few  lines.  I  do  not  know  when  I  have  enjoyed 
myself  so  much  as  I  did  yesterday  (Saturday).  In  the  morning 
the  gardens  were  distributed,  and  I  worked  in  it  an  hour  before 
school,  and  in  the  afternoon  we  worked  a  good  while  in  them. 
After  that  we  went  to  ride  in  a  nutshell,  otherwise  a  monster 
of  a  carryall,  with  five  seats  in  it;  each  seat  holds  five,  so  we 
had  twenty-five  in  it ;  and  another  carryall  behind  us  as  full 
as  it  could  hold.  After  we  came  back  we  went  into  water,  and 
it  refreshed  us  very  much.  I  wish  you  would  send  me  up 
some  nankeen  pantaloons,  as  my  woolenet  ones  are  so  tight 
that  they  are  uncomfortable,  and  besides  that  woolenet  is  too 

•  The  Eound  Hill  School  at  North-  Mr.  Joseph  S.  Cogswell,  was  at  that 
ampton,  Massachusetts,  under  tho  time  well  known  throughout  the  United 
direction  of  Mr.  George  Bancroft  and      States, 

B  2 


4  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  I. 

thick.  I  should  like  to  have  you  send  me  up  my  French 
dictionary.  I  am  reading  Hume's  'History  of  England,' 
which  Mr.  Cogswell  lent  me,  and  think  it  very  interesting. 
I  wish  you  would  write  as  soon  as  you  possibly  can.  I  have 
commenced  Spanish,  which  I  like  very  much.  I  think  this  is 
a  beautiful  place.  From  my  bed  I  can  see  a  branch  of  the 
Green  Mountains ;  Mount  Tom  and  Holyoke  too— I  should 
like  very  much  to  go  up  them. 
Give  my  love  to  all  at  home, 

And  believe  me, 

Your  affectionate  son, 

J.  L.  Motley. 


To  Ms  Mother. 


Eound  Hill,  Northampton, 
May  31d,  1825. 

My  deae  Mothee, — I  am  going  to  keep  a  journal  this 
week,  and  have  begun  to-day,  Tuesday,  as  you  will  see  by  the 
date.  Our  gardens  are  excellent  ones,  being  twenty  feet 
broad  and  eighty  long.  Three  other  boys  and  myself  o^ti  one 
together.  We  have  made  several  beds  and  planted  a  good  many 
things,  such  as  corn,  radishes,  water  and  musk  melons,  etc. 
It  is  now  about  a  quarter  to  one  o'clock,  so  that,  as  we  eat 
dinner  at  one,  I  shall  not  have  time  to  write  much,  but  I  will 
continue  it  in  the  evening.  A  boy  of  the  name  of  Barrett 
came  to  Kound  Hill  just  now  and  into  the  school,  where  I  am 
sitting  now ;  he  is  an  old  scholar  and  has  cheeks  as  big  as 
pumpkins.  We  have  several  new  scholars,  amongst  whom  is 
a  boy  by  the  name  of  Wilkinson,  who  owns  a  garden  with  me, 
and  two  Jews,  by  name  Moses  and  Aaron  David,  and  two 
Baltimore  boys  by  the  name  of  Treeze.  I  have  been  working 
in  my  garden  this  morning,  and  very  hot  work  it  is.  We 
went  into  water  yesterday,  and  last  Saturday,  so  that  we  have 
been  in  three  times  this  season.  Mr.  Bancroft  said  that  the 
boys  who  pleased  might  go  and  work  in  their  gardens,  and 
that  the  rest  might  go  in  a  swimming  ;  and  I  assure  you  that 
there  was  not  one  that  did  the  former. 


1826.]  LIFE  AT  SCHOOL.  5 

I  study  '  Charles  XII.'  in  French,  which  I  think  very  in- 
•teresting,  and  it  is  much  more  by  its  being  in  French  ;  I  can 
read  French  books  very  easily,  which  I  do  very  often. 

Half-past  one  o'clock,  I  have  just  finished  my  dinner,  and 
I  have  a  half-hour  to  write  you  before  school.  You  must 
certainly  send  me  up  some  thinner  clothes  than  woolenet. 

In  the  morning,  from  half-past  five  to  seven,  I  study 
French ;  after  breakfast  I  study  Spanish,  from  nine  to  half- 
past  ten,  when  we  go  out  and  stay  about  ten  or  fifteen 
minutes ;  and  when  we  come  in,  I  study  Greek  until  twelve, 
when  we  are  dismissed ;  and  in  the  afternoon  I  study  Cicero 
and  recite  to  Dr.  Beck,  a  German. 

I  think  there  is  near  sixty  scholars  in  the  school.  We  go 
down  town  to  "  meeting  " ;  we  go,  Thomas  and  I,  to  Mr.  Hall's. 
We  had  a  blind  man  preach  for  us  last  Sunday ;  he  had  got 
the  hymns  and  his  sermon  by  heart. 

Good-bye  for  this  afternoon ! 

I  have  got  acquainted  with  all  the  boys  now.  I  translate 
a  Spanish  book,  *  Collections  Espagnol,'  with  T.  Bond.  I  wish 
you  would  send  me  up,  if  you  can  find  it,  my  old  French 
exercise  book  that  I  finished. 

I  like  Northampton  every  day  more  and  more.  I  sleep  in 
the  same  room  with  Tom,  W.  Brewster,  and  a  boy  by  the 
name  of  Forbes,  a  boy  from  South  Carolina. 

Good-night ;  it's  about  nine  o'clock. 

J.  L.  Motley. 


To  his  Father. 

Round  Hill, 

April  2Qih,  1826. 

Dear  Father, — I  hope  soon  to  receive  a  letter  from  you  or 
mother.  Almost  all  the  boys  are  here  now,  a  few  from  Balti- 
more and  Philadelphia  are  wanting.  Some  of  the  Philadel- 
phia fellows  came  yesterday  afternoon,  and  with  these  came  a 
new  boy,  the  smallest  boy  by  far  in  school,  I  don't  believe  he 
is  a  bit  bigger  than  Preble  ;  I  suppose  he  is  older  though. 

I  wish  I  had  some  marbles  up  here.     It  is  what  the  boys 


6  MOTLEY'S  LETTEES.  [Chav.  I. 

principally  have  up  here,  but  there  are  not  many  up   here 
in  all. 

I  received  my  paint-box  by  Tom  Appleton.  I  am  in  the 
upper  school  this  term.  There  are  not  half  so  many  this  term 
as  there  were  last.  It  is  not  very  long  before  I  shall  come 
home  in  August,  about  four  months. 

Mr.  Cogswell  says  he  should  think  I  might  enter  Soj)ho- 
more,  but  I  do  not  think  I  could,  or  at  least  if  I  should 
manage  to  shuffle  in,  I  should  always  be  the  worst  in  my 
class,  and  should  not  be  able  to  take  any  part  at  the  end  of 
my  stay  there,  nor  I  don't  believe  that  I  shall  be  abJe  to  get 
a  part  in  the  Freshman  class,  but  I  will  do  my  best. 

There  have  been  very  few  new  fellows  this  term,  about  ten, 
no  more.  All  the  Salem  and  Boston  boys  have  come  now.  I 
never  knew  the  Boston  boys  come  so  late — some  did  not  come 
till  Thursday  night ;  some  of  the  Salem  boys  did  not  come  till 
Friday  evening  (day  before  yesterday). 

I  study  Virgil  and  Tacitus  in  Latin,  'Graeca  Majora'  in 
Greek,  and  Lacroix's  '  Arithmetic,'  and  Euler's  *  Algebra '  in 
Mathematics,  besides  which,  out  of  school  time,  I  review  the 
'  Greek  Eeader,'  with  Dr.  Bode,  and  am  going  to  study  the 
Greek  Testament. 

Good-bye !  Yours  affectionately, 

John  L.  Motley. 


To  Ms  Father. 

Eound  Hill, 

May  13th,  1827. 

My  dear  Fathee,— I  received  mother's  and  Thomas's 
letter.  I  received  mother's  a  week  ago,  and  Thomas's  two  or 
three  days  ago,  more  than  a  week  after  it  was  written.  The 
reason  was  that  the  boy  to  whom  Mr.  Cogswell  gave  the 
.  letters  to  give  to  the  boys,  lost  it,  and  it  was  found  about  a 
week  after. 

The  apple  and  pear  trees,  have  all  been  in  blossom  for  a 
good  while ;  the  trees  in  the  woods  are  beginning  to  have 
their  leaves. 


1S27.]  EAKLY  READING.  7 

There  are  six  or  seven  boys  going  down  in  August  besides 
myself.  We  had  our  gardens  given  us  a  week  ago.  I  have 
got  some  radishes  growing.  We  do  not  ride  yet,  but  I  heard 
we  were  going  to"  ride  to-morrow.  I  wish  I  had  some  books 
up  here  to  read.  I  wish,  when  you  send  me  up  my  paint 
brushes,  you  would  send  some.  I  do  not  want  you  to  sedd  me 
up  anything  to  eat  or  drink,  but  I  wish  you  would  send  me 
some  books  by  the  stage  with  the  paint  brushes.  I  guess  you 
have  some  in  the  house  that  I  have  not  read  ;  you  may  have 
some  possibly. 

The  drawing  master  has  not  come  yet ;  he  comes  to-morrow, 
I  believe.  I  believe  Charley  Appleton  is  going  to  write  to 
Edward  to-day,  he  told  me  he  was.  Everything  goes  on  the 
same  as  ever,  and  I  close  my  letter  with  entreating  you  to  send 
me  up  some  books  and  paint  brushes. 

Your  affectionate  son, 

J.  L.  Motley. 


To  Us  Father, 

Eound  Hill, 

May  16th,  1827. 

My  dear  Father, — As  I  wrote  you  so  lately,  I  of  course 
can  have  nothing  to  say.  I  asked  you  for  books.  If  Cooper's 
new  novel  is  out,  I  wish  you  would  send  it  to  me — but  stop,  I 
have  thought  of  something.  Mr.  Cogswell  has  fixed  a  reading- 
room  for  us.  That  is  a  very  good  thing,  and  what  the  boys 
have  long  wanted.  Mr.  Cogswell  told  the  boys  that  if  they 
chose,  he  wished  that  they  would  put  in  their  newspapers 
after  they  read  them,  and  he  said  that  he  would  put  his  own 
in  too,  so  I  wish  you  would  send  me  up  the  paper  regularly 
that  you  used  to  send  me,  that  I  may  put  it  in  after  I  have 
read  it.     There  are  also  going  to  be  books  there  too. 

Your  affectionate  son, 

John  Lothrop  Motley. 

P.S. — Cooper's  novel  was  to  be  published  on  the  12th  of 
May,  I  saw  in  a  paper,  so  I  suppose  it  is  out,  the  name  is  *  The 
Prairie.'    Don't  forget  to  send  some  books  by  the  stage. 


8  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Cuap.  I. 

To  his  Brother. 

Eound  Hill, 

July  26</i,  1829. 

My  dear  Beother,— I  have  received  yours  of  24tli  this 
morning.  We  had  not  had  another  for  nearly  three  weeks, 
except  Edward's  note  in  'Hope  Leslie,'  which  I  received  a 
week  ago.  Tell  Edward  my  next  shall  be  to  him.  I  do  not 
think  I  am  bound  at  all  to  write  you  long  letters,  for  I 
always  write  as  long  ones  as  you,  and  about  three  times  as 
often.  I  wish  your  next  would  be  as  long  as  this,  and  do 
write  at  least  once  a  week.  I  have  had  but  two  letters  in  six 
weeks,  for  your  last  was  three  weeks  ago,  and  the  last  before 
that  was  three  weeks  before, 

I  think  '  Hope  Leslie '  Ms  a  great  deal  better  than  '  The 
Prairie.'  It  is  the  best  new  novel  that  I  have  read  for  two  or 
three  years,  excepting  Scott's. 

We  ought  to  have  gone  to  draw  from  nature  the  day  before 
yesterday,  but  we  did  not  because  there  was  no  time,  and  I 
am  afraid  we  shall  not  go  Saturday ;  and  it  is  so  rainy  to-day 
that  I  am  afraid  it  will  continue  so  for  a  week,  and  we  have 
nothing  at  all  to  do  in  rainy  weather.  Perhaps  you  will  ask 
me  why  we  do  not  go  to  the  reading-room  ;  there  is  never  any 
papers  in  there  but  what  are  a  hundred  years  old :  the  boys 
will  not  put  them  in  now,  and  with  reason,  for  they  are  all 
torn  up  before  they  have  been  in  there  an  hour.  Drawing 
is  about  the  only  thing  to  do  now  in  rainy  weather.  Reading 
is  not  to  be  thought  of,  as  there  are  no  books  in  school. 

George  Gardner  came  here  last  night,  and  some  of  the 
boys  saw  him.  Bill  Edgar,  Bill  Sturgis,  and  Sam  May,  and 
Wadsworth  are  coming  up,  too,  I  believe. 

I  have  finished  Euler's  *  Algebra,'  and  our  class  was  partly 
examined  in  it  yesterday,  and  is  going  to  be  examined  more 
in  a  day  or  two,  Mr.  Walker  says. 

Tell  father  and  mother  they  must  write  to  me.  I  will  write 
them  more  to-day  or  to-morrow.  Do  send  in  your  next  a 
recipe  for  making  good  large  T's ;  I  never  can  make  a  good 

^  A  tale  by  Miss  0.  M.  Sedgwick. 


1829.]  -LEAVING  SCHOOL.  9 

one.    Tell  father  to  do  the  same ;  when  I  am  in  a  hurry  I 
always  make  very  bad  T's. 

I  have  just  finished  reciting  geography,  and  in  a  few 
minutes  shall  go  to  breakfast. 

I  believe  there  is  to  be  an  examination  or  exhibition  in 
speaking  before  we  go  to  college.  I  am  going  to  speak 
*  Antony's  Funeral  Oration,'  the  whole  of  it.  There  are 
several  dialogues,  both  comic  and  serious,  to  be  spoken  at  this 
exhibition.  I  hope  it  will  be  a  good  one.  I  have  not  decided, 
and  I  leave  it  to  father,  whether  I  shall  study  in  Boston  or 
go  to  college  the  first  year.  I  do  not  want  to  come  up  here 
though  any  more.  I  have  been  here  now  two  years  and  a 
half. 

Bill  Edgar  has  been  up  here,  and  stayed  two  or  three  days, 
and  has  gone  now.  I  shall  be  glad  when  the  time  comes  to 
go.  Tell  father  that  I  want  him,  if  he  pleases,  to  come  up 
and  bring  me  down  about  the  middle  of  August.  W.  Gorham 
is  going  down  in  a  little  more  than  a  week,  but  the  boys  will 
not  go  till  the  last  of  August,  and  then  we  shall  not  have  a 
bit  of  vacation.  I  don't  want  to  be  examined  the  very  day  I 
get  to  Boston.  If  I  do  not  have  a  vacation  before  commence- 
ment, I  shall  not  have  one  till  the  middle  of  winter.  I  have  to 
study  a  good  deal  now.  Tell  father  to  write  to  me  directly, 
to  tell  me  about  this ;  and  tell  him  also  that  I  had  rather 
study  in  Boston  the  first  year  than  go  into  college,  if  he  is 
willing.  I  think  that  I  have  fulfilled  my  promise  to  write  a 
long  letter. 

Give  my  love  to  father  and  mother  and  all  the  family,  and 
believe  me 

Your  affectionate  brother, 

J.  L.  Motley. 


10  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  II. 


CHAPTEE  II. 
GERMANY;   UNIVERSITY  LIFE. 

First  voyage  to  Europe— CuxLaven— The  weather  during  the  voyage— Incidents 
of  the  voyage — Gottingen  —  Arrangements  for  his  first  Semester  at  the 
University— Plans  for  the  vacation— The  German  language— Account  of 
journey  from  Hamburg  to  Gottingen  —  German  iiostillions  —  The  Hai-tz 
Mountains— German  University  life— Costume  of  the  students— Duelling 
customs— "Briiderschaff—Plesse  castle— George  Washington's  letter  on 
the  Humane  Society— Berlin— Studying  law— Public  galleries  and  public 
money  —  Daily  routine  at  Berlin  —  Amusements  —  Taglioni  —  Devrient — 
Goetz  van  Berlichingen— The  "  Vons  and  the  not-Vons  "—Visit  to  Potsdam 
— Plans  for  the  future. 

[Mr.  Motley  graduated  at  Harvard  College  in  1831,  at  the 
age  of  seventeen,  and  after  a  few  months  went  to  study  in 
Germany.] 

To  his  Mother. 

Brig  Cyclops,  at  anchor  off  Cuxhaven,  mouth  of  Elbe, 
Thursday  evening,  May  2ith,  1832. 

My  dear  Mother, — I  hope  by  the  time  this  letter  reaches 
you,  you  will  not  have  become  anxious  on  my  account,  for 
although  we  have  had  a  long,  and  in  part  rather  a  stormy 
passage,  we  have  at  last  arrived  at  this  place  in  safety. 

I  hoped  to  have  had  a  chance  of  writing  to  you  in  the 
English  Channel,  but  although  I  had  a  thousand  opportunities 
of  sending  a  letter  ashore,  either  to  France  or  England,  yet  as 
I  knew  nobody  in  either  country  to  direct  it  to,  there  was  no 
possibility  of  its  reaching  you. 

It  is  now  12  o'clock  at  night,  and  y®  brokers  and  y^  doctors 
and  "  y®  like  "  have  just  left  us,  and  all  hands  have  turned  in, 
and  I  take  the  first  moment  of  leisure  to  write  you  an  account 
of  my  voyage.  Of  course,  as  we  have  not  yet  got  to  Hamburg 
nor  left  the  ship,  I  can  tell  you  nothing  else.  We  are  at 
anchor  for  the  night  off  a  small  town  called  Cuxhaven,  just  at 


1832.]  FIRST  VOYAGE  TO  EUEOPE.  11 

the  mouth  of  the  river,  where  the  vessels  are  "cleared"  before 
going  to  Hamburg,  which  is  between  fifty  and  sixty  miles 
farther  up.  To-morrow  morning,  between  two  and  three 
o'clock,  we  shall  probably  be  under  way  again,  and  if  we  have 
a  fair  wind,  shall  be  at  the  city  early  in  the  afternoon. 

It  is  just  seven  weeks  to-day  since  we  sailed — making  fifty 
days'  passage,  which  is  an  exceedingly  long  one  in  any  season 
of  the  year.  We  came  out  in  half  a  gale  of  wind,  and  before 
we  were  out  of  the  bay,  it  blew  a  whole  one,  and  the  wind  very 
soon  shifted  to  the  east,  where  it  continued  to  blow  for  about 
a  month.  We  were  about  a  week  beating  about  the  Grand 
Bank,  in  a  north-easter,  and  were  regaled  with  a  series  of 
rain  storms  and  wind  storms  and  all  kinds  of  storms  from  the 
time  we  left  Boston  till  we  made  the  English  coast.  I  have 
not  been  at  all  sea-sick  (with  the  exception  of  the  first  few 
hours),  but  the  weather  for  a  long  time  was  so  excessively  cold 
that  I  was  below  for  the  principal  part  of  the  time,  and  had 
plenty  of  time  for  reading  and  rumination — although  one  is 
not  able  to  study  or  reflect  to  much  advantage  in  the  cabin 
of  a  small  brig  in  a  gale  of  wind. 

The  last  d^y  of  April  and  the  first  of  May  we  had  a  severe 
gale  from  the  north-east,  and  were  obliged  to  "  lay  to  "  under 
bare  poles  for  forty-eight  hours,  and  I  had  then  an  opportunity 
of  seeing  and  feeling  what  the  ocean  is.  I  was  on  deck  the 
greater  part  of  the  time,  although  it  was  impossible  to  stand  or 
sit  without  being  secured  by  a  rope  or  two,  and  in  the  cabin  I 
was  able  to  realise  what  "  King  Corny,"  in  one  of  Miss  Edge- 
worth's  stories,  means  by  "  not  being  able  to  lie  on  the  ground 
tcitJiout  holding  on."  I  should  have  been  very  sorry  to  have 
crossed  the  Atlantic  (or  the  pond,  as  the  sailors  call  it)  without 
a  single  storm,  but  one  every  day  in  the  week  is  rather  too 
much.  However,  I  enjoyed  them  well  enough,  and  I  con- 
sidered myself  very  fortunate  in  being  neither  sick  nor  nervous, 
as  Mr.  Grund  and  his  wife  were  generally.  She  was  very 
anxious  when  the  vessel  leaned  over  on  its  side,  and  as  the 
brig  is  built  very  narrow  in  proportion  to  its  length,  it  did 
that  all  the  time ;  and  she  was  not  out  of  her  berth  eight-and- 
forty  hours  the  whole  passage  from  sea-sickness.     I  contrived, 


12  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  IL 

however,  in  the  course  of  the  voyage  to  learn  a  good  deal  of 
German,  by  talking  and  reading  and  Avriting,  and  I  have 
been  talking  all  day  with  the  German  pilot  (who  speaks  very 
little  English),  and  have  acted  in  some  sort  as  an  interpreter 
between  him  and  the  captain,  as  Mr.  Grand  a  few  days  ago 
went  ashore  in  the  Straits  of  Dover,  to  proceed  to  Hamburg 
by  land,  on  account  of  his  wife's  sickness,  but  of  that  I  will 
write  you  presently,  so  that  I  think  I  shall  not  have  much 
diflSculty  in  speaking  the  language  pretty  soon. 

We  made  the  English  coast  (Start  Point)  May  4th,  and  since 
that  time  the  passage  has  been  very  pleasant,  although  until 
within  these  last  three  days  we  have  not  had  a  single  fair  wind. 
But  the  weather  was  very  fine,  and  we  were  sailing  between 
France  and  England,  in  sight  of  both  sometimes,  and  always 
between  one  and  the  other,  and  fishing  boats  were  coming 
alongside  twenty  times  a  day,  from  which  we  had  fresh  news 
and  fresh  fish  in  plenty,  and  there  were  always  fifty  or  seventy 
vessels  in  sight  of  all  nations  and  all  descriptions,  and  the 
shore  was  constantly  offering  something  or  other  of  interest 
(although  the  seaboard  of  England  and  France  on  the  Chan- 
nel has  not  much  of  the  picturesque),  and  the  idea  of  being 
really  in  sight  of  those  two  countries  was  exciting  and  pleasing 
in  itself.  We  were  at  anchor  a  whole  day  (to  prevent  drifting 
to  leeward  with  the  tide),  in  a  dead  calm,  off  Dover,  and  I 
amused  myself  with  reconnoitring  the  old  turrets  of  the  castle 
with  the  glass ;  but  the  town  is  built  so  low  that  I  could  not 
see  much  of  it. 

Of  course  I  can  tell  you  in  this  letter  nothing  about  my 
arrangements,  as  I  am  still  at  sea  to  all  intents  and  purposes, 
although  I  expect  to  dine  in  Hamburg  to-morrow ;  but  I  shall 
write  in  a  day  or  two  to  father,  telling  him  about  the  whole, 
and  both  letters  will  probably  reach  you  at  the  same  time. 

I  had  nearly  forgotten  to  tell  you  that  I  have  become  quite 
a  sailor  since  I  have  been  on  board.  I  have  been  several 
times  up  to  the  top-gallant  masthead,  and  my  usual  seat  in 
fine  weather  is  the  ''maintop,"  where  I  sit  smoking,  reading, 
and  "  chewing  the  cud  of  sweet  and  bitter  fancies  "  for  hours 
together.     By  the  way,  it  was  lucky  that  I  did  not  forget  my 


1832]  ARRIVAL  IN  EUROPE.  13 

cigars,  for  they  have  been  of  great  service  to  me  pour  tuer  le 
temps  in  disagreeable  weather.  "  You  know  my  old  ward,"  as 
Falstaff  says,  and  tell  Edward  that  I  am  very  much  obliged 
to  him  for  getting  them  for  me  the  morning  we  sailed,  and 
that  I  have  thanked  him  in  every  puff.  I  hope  by  the  time 
this  letter  reaches  you  that  Tom  will  have  safely  arrived ; 
and  do  not  be  anxious  if  he  overstays  his  time  a  little,  for  it 
seems  to  me  now  that  one  is  as  safe  at  sea  as  on  land.  In  a 
gale  of  wind  I  can  half  join  in  the  sailors'  song — 

"Lord  help  me,  how  I  pities  all 
Unhappy  folks  on  shore  now." 

And,  by  the  way,  that  puts  me  in  mind  that  my  old  friend, 
the  ship  Corso,  has  kept  us  company  for  the  last  two  or  three 
days,  and  is  now  anchored  close  by.  Good-night,  my  dear 
mother.  Give  my  love  to  Edward  and  Preble  and  Emma,  and 
give  little  Annie  as  many  kisses  as  she  will  accept  for  me. 
I  shall  write  to  father  to-morrow  or  next  day,  and  tell  him  of 
all  my  own  arrangements  and  expectations,  and  send  him  all 
the  news  in  Europe,  which,  by  the  way,  is  somewhat  surprising. 
There  is  no  need  of  my  asking  you  to  write,  for  I  am  sure  that 
you  will  do  so  by  every  opportunity.  Eemember  me  to  all 
who  may  recollect  me ;  and  when  you  next  write  to  Cousin 
Anne,  tell  her  that  I  shall  open  the  correspondence  that  we 
agreed  upon  very  soon,  although  not  exactly  from  the  same 
place,  and  tell  her  she  might  send  a  letter  to  me  enclosed  in 
the  very  next  she  writes  to  you. 

Affectionately  your  son, 

LoTHROP  Motley. 

P.S. — I  do  not  know  that  you  will  be  able  to  read  half,  or 
understand  a  tittle  of  what  I  have  been  writing. 

My  ideas  are  in  such  a  whirl  that  I  cannot  string  them 
together  intelligibly,  and  I  shall  write  more  at  length  and 
more  coherently  from  Hamburg.  The  hurry  and  confusion 
that  we  have  been  in  for  the  last  six  to  seven  hours  with 
doctors  and  pilots  and  merchants  and  brokers,  etc,  etc.,  has 
confused  me,  and  this  has  been  the  only  hour  in  which  I  have 


14  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  II. 

been  able  to  be  alone.  But  good-night,  I  am  going  to  turn 
in  now,  and  hear  for  the  last  time  the  "gurgling  noise  ot 
waters  in  mine  ear,"  which  has  been  my  lullaby  for  the  last 
forty-nine  nights. 


To  his  Father. 

Gottingen, 
June  23rd,  1832. 

'  My  deak  Father, — I  have  delayed  writing  to  you  during 
the  fortnight  I  have  been  here,  because  I  wished  to  wait  till 
I  could  inform  you  of  what  I  was  about,  and  how  I  was  settled. 
I  have  now  got  rooms,  etc.,  etc.,  arranged  what  lectures  and 
lessons  I  shall  take  this  term,  and  provided  in  some  degree 
for  the  next  Semester. 

I  got  here  about  a  fortnight  since,  just  when  the  Pentecost 
holidays  began,  and  consequently  had  to  wait  till  they  were 
ended  before  I  could  do  anything  except  engage  rooms. 

I  found  here,  much  to  my  satisfaction,  two  Americans,  one 
Englishman,  and  one  Scotchman.  The  Americans  are  both 
from  Charleston — one  is  Mitchell  King,  of  exactly  my  own 
age;  and  the  other,  Amory  Coffin,  about  a  year  older,  with 
both  of  whom  I  am  very  intimate,  as  also  the  Englishman  and 
Scotchman,  who,  however,  are  going  away  very  soon.  I  have 
got  rooms  in  the  Buchstrasse  (Book  Street),  the  next  door  to 
King's,  and  a  few  minutes'  walk  to  the  Library  and  to  my 
lectures.  I  breakfast  either  at  my  own  room  or  my  neigh- 
bour's, and  we  all  dine  at  the  "  Crown,"  the  best  hotel  here. 

My  room  for  the  rest  of  this  Semester,  that  is  to  say,  from 
about  the  1st  of  June  to  the  1st  of  September,  costs  me  three 
louis  d'or  and  a  half,  about  fourteen  dollars.  Dinner  at  the 
"Crown,"  eight  rix-doUars  a  month;  and  then  there  is  the 
house  bill,  for  coffee,  etc.,  etc.  Each  course  of  lectures  costs 
from  one  to  three  louis  d'or ;  and  I  have  a  private  lesson  in 
German  from  Professor  Benecke  three  time  a  week  for  the 
rest  of  this  Semester,  which  will  probably  cost  eight  more. 
This  term  (about  ten  weeks  are  left)  I  intend  to  devote  to 
German,  for  I  have  not  enough  of  the  language  to  understand 


1832.]  UNIVERSITY  LIFE  AT  GOTTINGEN.  15 

the  lectures  well,  and  so  it  is,  of  course,  useless  to  take  them. 
I,  however,  attend  one  lecture  (five  times  a  week),  of  Professor 
Hugo,  as  the  introduction  to  a  course  of  Civil  Law — of  which 
I  am  able  to  understand  the  general  drift,  by  taking  the  text- 
book with  me  to  the  lecture-room.  Next  term,  however,  I 
shall  have  a  lecture  in  the  Pandects,  a  lecture  on  the  Institutes, 
a  lecture  on  Natural  Law,  a  lecture  on  the  history  of  Eoman 
law,  which,  with  the  introductory  lecture  of  Hugo — which  I 
now  attend,  and  which  I  shall  hear  again  next  Semester — form 
a  complete  course  of  Civil  Law.  Besides  which  I  shall  pro- 
bably attend  Huren's  lectures  on  History,  Saalfeld's  Political 
Lectures  (he  is  a  tremendous  Liberal,  and  lately  a  member  of 
the  Diet),  which  altogether  will  be  quite  a  sufficiency. 

The  rooms  which  I  have  taken,  I  have  engaged  only  for 
this  Semester.  Next  Semester  (which  begins  six  weeks  after 
Michaelmas),  King  and  myself  intend  taking  rooms  in  the 
same  house,  as  we  shall  be  the  only  Englishmen — I  mean 
Americans  or  Englishmen — left  in  Gottingen.  I  cannot,  of 
course,  tell  you  what  my  expenses  are  likely  to  be,  and  of 
course  they  have  been  at  first  more  than  they  will  be.  But  I 
think  that  my  necessary  expenses  will  amount  to  between  five 
or  six  hundred  dollars  at  the  most,  probably  to  about  five 
hundred  and  fifty  dollars ;  and  if  I  travel  about  in  the  vacation, 
which  everybody  does,  and  principally  on  foot,  which  every- 
body does,  my  whole  expenses  will  amount  to  between  six  or 
seven  hundred  dollars,  probably  not  so  much  as  seven  hundred  ; 
but  I  state  the  maximum  rather  than  the  minimum,  that  I 
may  not  in  reality  exceed  what  I  say,  and  this  is  about  the 
amount  of  credit  you  have  given  me  with  Mr.  Gossler. 

I  have  not  exactly  determined  what  to  do  or  where  to  go  in 
September,  when  there  are  six  weeks'  holiday.  But  I  think 
of  going  on  foot  to  the  Lake  of  Constance,  and  returning  down 
the  Ehine,  and  so  home  to  Gottingen.  This  would  take  about 
six  weeks,  I  should  suppose,  and  I  do  not  know  how  many  louis 
d'or,  but  I  suppose  not  more  than  thirty  or  forty,  which,  as  I 
told  you,  I  have  left  with  the  banker. 

Neither  can  I  exactly  tell  how  long  I  had  best  remain  at 
Gdttingen.    It  is  seldom  the  custom  with  German  students  to 


16  MOTLEY'S  LETTEES.  [Chap.  II. 

study  more  than  one  year  at  one  university — since,  by  staying 
on  one  or  two  Semesters  at  Gottingen,  another  at  Berlin, 
another  at  Munich,  another  at  Jena,  and  so  on,  they  combine 
the  advantages  of  all,  because  in  each  Semester  a  student  may 
hear  a  course  of  lectures  from  each  of  the  most  eminent 
professors  in  each  university,  and  a  year  studied  in  one 
university  counts  in  another,  and  so  on. 

But  I  shall  certainly  stay  here  this  Semester  and  the  next, 
and  after  that  I  do  not  know  whether  I  shall  go  to  Berlin  or 
Munich,  or  remain  in  Gottingen,  but  I  shall  have  time  to 
decide  and  to  advise. 

My  first  object  at  present,  as  I  said,  is  to  possess  myself  of 
the  language,  and  I  study  it  five  or  six  hours  a  day,  and,  as  I 
said,  have  a  lesson  from  Professor  Benecke  from  seven  to 
eight  every  other  morning.  As  soon  as  I  have  acquired 
enough  of  the  language  to  write  it  and  speak  it  and  under- 
stand it,  I  shall  feel  at  my  ease  and  ready  to  begin  my 
lectures,  and  that  will  undoubtedly  be  by  the  end  of  this 
Semester.  This  has  been  a  long,  stupid  letter,  about  louis  d'or 
and  rix  dollars,  and  in  fact  I  hope  you  will  not  consider  it  a 
letter,  but  merely  a  necessary  statement  of  statistics.  To- 
morrow is  Sunday,  which  is  Feiertag  (holiday)  all  over 
Germany,  and  I  shall  then  write  a  voluminous  letter  to 
mother,  telling  her  all  about  the  miraculous  things  seen, 
heard,  and  acted  in  Germany  by 

Your  affectionate  son, 

J.  LoTHKOP  Motley. 

If  you  ever  see  Fred  Brune,  Tom  Appleton,  Hillard,  or 
John  Sullivan,  or  Mr.  Snow,  I  wish  you  would  tell  them  that 
they  have  all  got  to  write  to  me  too. 

I  know  that  you  will  not  excuse  this  writing,  so  I  say 
nothing  about  it. 


1832.]  TRAVELLING  IN  GERMANY.  17 

To  his  Mother. 

Gottingen, 

July  Ut,  1832, 

My  dear  Mother, — I  wrote  you  just  before  I  left  Ham- 
burg, and  my  journey  to  this  place  was  as  uninteresting  as 
can  well  be  imagined ;  in  fact,  it  surpassed  my  beau  ideal  of  a 
bore.     The  first  day  was  through  the  Liinenburger  Haide  (or 
heath),  and  the  greatest  rate  of  travelling  a  German  mile  an 
hour  (4J  English).     The  two  next  days  (for  it  took  me  three 
days  to  come  about  130  miles)  were  little  better,  except  that 
I  was  a  little  amused  by  the  coolness  of  the  German  postil- 
lions.    I  came  from  Hanover  by  extra  post  (as  there  was  to 
be  no  diligence  to  Gottingen  the  day  I  arrived  there),  and 
being  alone,  was  almost  at  the  mercy   of  the  postillions. 
These  creatures  are  certainly  the  most  phlegmatic  specimens 
of  mankind  that  exist.     I  recollect  in  particular  one  fellow 
who  drove  me  out  of  Celle,  who  incontinently  determined 
on  first  setting  out  to  walk  the  whole  way.      He   did  go 
for  about  a  mile,  and  at  last  I  asked  him  if  he  could  go  no 
faster.     "  Oh,  ja"  he  said,  and  continued  the  same  pace  for 
another  ten  minutes.     I  began  to  get  incensed,  and  to  re- 
monstrate in  broken  German,  but  he  turned  a  deaf  ear  to 
my  invectives,  and  instead   of  mending   his  pace,  laid  his 
whip  on   the   top   of  the   chaise,  took  out  his   bugle,   and 
solaced  himself  with  practising  the  overture  to  'Tancredi.' 
At  last  I  recollected  a  very  convincing  argument  in  all  lan- 
guages, and  took  out  a  rix-doUar,  and  said  to  him, "  Schwager  " 
{Schwager  means  brother-in-law,  and  is  a  very  pleasing  title 
to  a  postillion),  "  if  you  go  no  faster  you  get  no  Trinhgeld  " 
(drink-money,  a  regular  item  in  every  reckoning  in  Germany). 
The  appeal  was  decisive,  and  he  whipped  his  horses  into  a 
trot.     Gottingen  itself  is  an  unpleasant  town  enough,  and  the 
country  about  it  uninteresting.     But  the  Hartz  country  (that 
El-dorado  of  superstition)  is  in  sight,  and  there  are  some  lesser 
hills  nearer.     You  know  how  celebrated  the  Hartz  Mountains 
are  for  goblins,  etc.     On  May-day  night  they  have  from  time 
immemorial  kept  carnival  on  the  Brocken,  although  I  have 
VOL.  I.  0 


18  MOTLEY'S  LETTEES.  [Chap.  II. 

not  seen  a  ghost  yet,  but  mean  some  fine  dark  night  to  go 
there  on  a  ghost  hunt.  There  is  nothing  here  to  mark  out 
the  University,  except  the  Library  and  the  students  that  you 
meet  in  the  streets,  for  there  are  no  University  buildings  for 
the  students,  as  with  us,  but  the  Professors  lecture  in  their 
own  houses,  and  the  students  lodge  with  the  PMUsters  (trades- 
men) of  the  town. 

The  Library  is  an  immense  collection  of  books,  and  ail  have 
been  purchased  in  one  hundred  years  ;  the  precise  number  is 
not  known,  but  it  is  thought  about  400,000.  It  contains, 
however,  few  rare  books  and  manuscripts,  and  but  few  splendid 
editions  of  books.  Everything  is  for  use,  and  the  students 
may  have  almost  as  many  books  out  at  a  time  as  they  wish  by 
obtaining  a  number  of  cards  from  a  Professor. 

I  got  here,  as  I  told  you  in  my  last  letter,  in  the  Pentecost 
holidays,  and  had  to  wait  a  few  days  before  I  could  be 
matriculated,  which  matriculation  is  simply  this  :  I  was 
summoned  before  the  Senate  of  the  University,  and  then 
wrote  my  name  and  my  whences  and  whats,  etc.,  etc.,  in 
a  great  book.  I  then  gave  the  member  of  the  Senate  who 
officiated  three  rix-doUars  for  his  trouble,  and  put  another  into 
the  poor-box.  I  have  signed  an  immense  list  of  promises 
(which  are,  I  believe,  never  in  the  slightest  degree  kept  by 
any  of  the  students,  and,  consequently,  a  very  improper  exac- 
tion), the  principal  of  which  were,  to  obey  the  laws  in  toto,  to 
join  no  Landsmannschaft,  drink  no  beer,  fight  no  duels,  etc., 
etc.,  etc.  The  next  day  I  went  to  the  Pro-Eector  of  the 
University  (Herr  Hofrath  Goeschen),  who  gave  me  my  matricle 
and  legitimation  cartes,  observed  that  the  laws  were  binding, 
and,  shaking  my  hand,  informed  me  that  I  was  a  member  of 
the  University.  The  next  day  I  was  introduced  to  Professor 
Hugo,  who  has  been  a  very  celebrated  lawyer  and  professor, 
but  is  now  "a  noble  wreck  in  ruinous  perfection."  His 
lectures  now  are  dull  and  stupid,  and  his  titles  of  Aulic  Coun- 
sellor, Guelphic  Knight,  Hofrath,  Professor,  etc.,  etc.,  cannot 
bring  more  than  three  or  four  students  into  his  class-room. 
He  still  lectures,  however,  on  the  Law,  but  his  great  peculiarity 
is  an  unbounded  passion  for  thermometers.    He  has  four  or 


1S32.]  GERMAN  STUDENTS  AND  THEIR  WAYS.  19 

five  hanging  in  every  room  of  his  house,  and  two  on  each  side 
of  his  head  in  the  lecture-room ;  the  window  opposite  him  is 
raised  and  lowered  by  a  cord  which  crosses  the  room,  and  is 
hitched  just  over  his  head,  by  means  of  which  he  very  carefully 
regulates  the  temperature  of  the  room  at  the  conclusion  of 
each  paragraph  of  his  lecture.  He  presented  me  with  a  book 
which  had  been  lately  published  in  England  and  dedicated  to 
him,  and  I  presented  him  with  a  louis  d'or  for  a  course  of 
lectures  on  Roman  Law. 

But  I  have  said  nothing  yet  of  the  students  because  I  am 
afraid  of  attacking  such  a  boundless  and  inexhaustible  subject. 
The  German  students  are  certainly  an  original  and  peculiar 
race  of  beings,  and  can  be  compared  to  nothing. 

The  University  towns  are  the  homes  of  "  outre-ness,'^  or 
rather,  they  are  places  where  it  is  impossible  to  be  outre,  except 
by  dressing  or  behaving  like  "a  Christian  or  an  ordinary 
man."  You  can  hardly  meet  a  student  in  the  streets  whose 
dress  would  not  collect  a  mob  anywhere  else,  and,  at  the  same 
time,  you  hardly  meet  two  in  a  day  who  are  dressed  alike, 
every  man  consulting  his  own  taste,  and  fashioning  himself 
according  to  his  heau  ideal. 

The  most  common  outer  garment  is  a  red  plaid  or  a  blue 
velvet  frock-coat,  twenty  of  which  you  find  to  one  of  cloth. 
The  head  is  covered  with  a  very  small  cap  with  the  colours  of 
Landsmannschaft  to  which  the  individual  may  belong.  The 
boots  are  garnished  with  spurs  universally,  albeit  innocent  of 
horse-flesh ;  the  fore-finger  of  the  left  hand  always  with  an 
immense  seal  ring  (often  of  iron  or  brass) ;  and  the  upper  lip 
and  chin  fortified  with  an  immense  moustachio  and  beard  (in 
fact,  I  have  seen  several  students  with  a  depending  beard 
more  than  four  inches  long,  and  there  is  hardly  one  who  does 
not  wear  moustachios).  A  long  pipe  in  the  mouth,  a  portfolio 
under  the  arm,  a  stick  in  the  hand,  and  one  or  two  bull-dogs 
at  the  heels,  complete  a  picture  not  in  the  slightest  degree 
exaggerated  of  a  Gottingen  student!  The  most  promising 
article  in  the  formation  of  a  German  student's  room  is  the 
pipe.  There  are  generally  about  twenty  or  thirty  of  different 
kinds  hanging  in  his  room— of  porcelain,  meerschaum,  and 

c  2 


20  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  IL 

stone,  all  ornamented  with  tassels,  combining  the  colours  of 
his  Landsmannscliaft ;  and  you  have  no  idea  how  beautifully- 
some  of  the  pipes  are  painted  with  landscapes,  portraits  (there 
are  often  beautiful  miniatures  painted  on  them),  or  coats  of 
arms.  Pipes  are  a  favourite  present  among  the  students  (and 
you  have  anything  you  wish  painted  on  one  when  you  wish  to 
give  it  away).  Every  one  smokes,  and  smokes  at  all  times, 
and  in  all  occupations  (except  that  they  are  not  allowed  to 
smoke  in  the  streets),  reading,  writing,  talking,  or  riding.  I 
prefer  a  pipe  now  to  a  cigar,  and  I  am  hardly  ever  without 
one  in  my  mouth  (for  instance,  I  have  been  smoking  a  great 
meerschaum  all  the  time  I  have  been  writing  this),  and  I 
always  breakfast  at  half-past  five  o'clock  (!)  on  a  cup  of  coffee 
and  a  pipe,  and  continue  the  "  cloud  compelling  "  occupation 
through  the  day.  I  find  I  grow  fat  on  it,  for  I  never  was  in 
such  health  in  my  life.  I  find  that  I  have  said  nothing  as 
yet  about  the  German  duels.  These  things  are  such  a  common 
and  every-day  occurrence  that  I  have  ceased  to  think  at  all 
about  them.  I  must,  in  the  first  place,  tell  you  that  the 
accounts  you  have  read  in  Dwight,  etc.,  of  the  frequency  of 
these  things  is  not  in  the  slightest  degree  exaggerated,  in  fact 
it  is  entirely  impossible  to  exaggerate  them.  I  have  been  here 
now  about  three  weeks,  and  during  that  time  as  many  as  forty 
have  been  fought  to  my  knowledge,  and  I  know  of  as  many  as 
one  hundred  and  fifty  more  that  are  to  take  place  directly. 

I  have  seen  a  few  of  them,  and  though  you  have  read 
accounts  of  them  in  Dwight's  '  Travels  in  Germany,'  I  suppose 
you  will  be  willing  to  hear  a  short  description  of  them.  The 
duels  are  not  allowed  to  be  fought  in  the  town,  and  accord- 
ingly an  inn,  called  the  "  Kaiser,"  just  outside  one  of  the  gates, 
is  a  very  celebrated  rendezvous.  As  they  generally  take 
place  between  members  of  different  Landsmannschafts  {Lands- 
mannscliaft means  countrymen-club,  or  society ;  there  are  as 
many  of  these  as  there  are  sets  of  students  from  the  different 
States  of  Germany.  The  most  prominent  are  the  "  Hanove- 
rian," the  "  Liinenburger,"  the  "  Bremensen,"  and  "  Westpha- 
lian "  Landsmannschaften.  Besides  which  there  is  a  club 
called  the  "  Borsenschafte,"  which  is  composed  in  reality  of 


1832]  DUELLING  CUSTOMS.  21 

the  refuse  of  the  whole  University),  the  arms  offensive  and 
defensive  required  in  the  duel  are  provided  for  the  duellists 
by  their  respective  Landsmannschafts.  These  arms  are  a 
Schldger  (or  sabre)  about  four  feet  in  length,  blunt  at  the 
point,  but  very  sharp-edged,'  and  a  suit  of  stuffed  leather  to 
protect  all  the  vital  parts,  leaving  only  the  face  and  breast 
exposed.  The  last  time  I  was  at  the  "  Kaiser,"  about  sixteen 
duels  were  fought  in  the  course  of  the  day,  ten  of  which  I 
saw ;  and  they  are  on  the  whole  stupid  affairs,  and  I  think 
could  exist  nowhere  but  in  Germany.  It  is  not,  however,  a 
perfect  trifle  to  fight  one  of  these  duels,  although  it  is  very 
seldom  that  any  lives  are  lost,  or  even  important  wounds 
received.  But  the  face  is  often  most  barbarously  mangled, 
and  indeed  it  is  almost  an  impossibility  to  meet  a  student 
who  has  not  at  least  one  or  two  large  scars  in  his  visage. 

In  the  two  that  I  saw  the  other  day,  one  man  was  cut,  not 
very  severely,  in  the  breast,  and  the  other  received  a  wound 
that  laid  his  face  open  from  the  left  eye  to  the  mouth,  and 
will  probably  enhance  the  beauty  of  his  countenance  for  the 
rest  of  his  life. 

Both  these  affairs  were  Landsmannschaft  duels ;  the  Han- 
overians and  the  Bremensers  and  the  Liinenburgers  and  the 
Westphalians  being  "  los  " — that  is  to  say,  at  variance;  in 
which  case  each  Liinenburger  has  to  fight  with  a  West- 
phalian,  each  Hanoverian  with  a  Bremenser,  till  every  member 
of  each  Landsmannschaft  has  fought.  In  these  four  Lands- 
mannschaften,  I  suppose  there  are  from  eighty  to  one  hundred 
students.  So  here,  you  see,  are  a  pretty  number  of  duels  to 
be  fought  directly.  Besides  this,  a  single  Westphalian  has 
challenged  every  one  of  the  Liinenburgers  to  fight  him  (which 
challenge  has  been  accepted),  and  a  single  Liinenburger  has 
challenged  every  one  of  the  Westphalians.  Here,  you  see, 
are  two  men,  each  of  whom  has  about  twenty-five  duels  to 
fight  this  term.  This  Liinenburger  who  has  challenged  all 
the  Westphalians  is  somewhat  noted  for  the  number  of  his 
■duels.  He  has  already  fought  seventy-five,  and  has  been 
second  in  about  two  hundred,  and  he  has  here  twenty  more  to 
fight.    Besides  which  he  has  yesterday  challenged  another 


22  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Ch.vp.  II. 

student,  who  had  insulted  his  Landsmannscliaft,  to  pistols  at 
ten  paces,  to  be  reloaded  till  one  is  hit.  This  same  fellow 
who  is  thus  challenged  is  also  challenged  by  each  member  of 
the  insulted  Landsmannschaft  to  one  "  gang "  of  sabres. 
The  meaning  of  this  term  is,  a  duel  to  be  continued  till  one 
of  the  parties  falls,  or  confesses  himself  unable  to  fight  longer. 
These  duels  arise  in  every  sort  of  way ;  a  very  common  one  is 
the  one  which  you  have  read  in  *  Dwight,'  of  pushing  or  being 
pushed  into  the  gutter. 

There  is  also  a  regular  code  by  which  the  different  offences 
are  meted,  and  the  degree  of  sabre  satisfaction  determined. 
The  most  common  and  slightest  insult  is  the  "Dummer 
Junge  "  (stupid  boy),  which  demands  a  duel  of  twelve  Gangs. 
(A  "  Gang  "  I  cannot  exactly  describe.  It  is  the  closing  of  the 
two  combatants  and  a  certain  number  of  blows  and  parries.) 
The  parties  have  each  a  second  at  his  side  to  strike  up  the 
swords  the  moment  a  wound  is  received.  The  doctor  then 
steps  in,  examines  the  wound,  and  if  it  proves  to  be  "  An- 
schiess "  (a  wound  of  a  certain  length  and  depth),  the  duel  is 
discontinued. 

A  more  gross  insult  demands  twenty-four  Gangs,  and  a  still 
more  important  one,  forty-eight.  But  the  most  severe  duel  is 
that  of  one  "  Gang,"  in  which,  as  I  have  said,  the  duel  con- 
tinues until  one  drops. 

You  need  be  under  no  apprehension  about  my  returning 
with  a  disfigured  visage,  for  as  a  foreigner  is  seldom  or  never 
insulted,  and  if  he  be,  has  the  right  of  choosing  his  own 
weapons  (which  in  my  case  would  be  pistols  or  rifles,  and  the 
Germans  have  an  aversion  to  gunpowder),  in  which  event  the 
offender  generally  makes  an  apology  and  backs  out  of  the 
business.  I  assure  you  I  have  not  at  all  exaggerated  this 
duelling  business.  If  you  cannot  have  faith  in  it,  you  have 
only  to  say — 

"  Travellers  ne'er  did  lie, 
Though  folks  at  home  condemn  them." 

And  though  it  is  beyond  all  contradiction  a  brutal  state  of 
things,  yet  I  cannot  help  thinking  it  is  not  without  its  uses. 
For  instance,  some  of  the  students  are  perfect  knights-errant. 


1832]  "  BRUDERSCHAFT."  23 

and  if  they  hear  of  a  lady  being  insulted  (for  it  is  not  un- 
common for  a  German  student,  who  wishes  to  manifest  his 
independence,  to  push  a  lady  off  the  side- walk),  are  sure  to 
seek  out  the  offender  and  salute  him  with  "  Dummer  Junge,"  in 
which  case  twelve  Gangs  of  the  Schlilger  must  necessarily  ensue. 

You  will  probably  not  have  imbibed  a  very  exalted  opinion 
of  the  character  of  German  students  from  the  picture  I  have 
sketched,  but  I  have  found  a  few  friends  here  whom  I  admire 
very  much,  and  with  whom  I  have  already  drunk  "  Briider- 
schaft " ;  and  here,  I  suppose,  an  explanatory  note  is  needed. 
The  usual  way  of  addressing  a  person  in  German,  as  perhaps 
you  know,  is  in  the  third  person  plural ;  the  second,  as  with 
us,  is  seldom  or  never  used.  But  between  brothers  and  sisters, 
parents  and  children,  and  very  old  and  intimate  friends,  the 
second  person  singular,  "  Bu,"  thou,  is  used.  The  students 
have  a  way  of  cementing  a  friendship  by  dropping  the  third 
person  plural  in  conversation  and  substituting  for  ever  the 
"Dm,"  in  which  case  they  drink  a  glass  of  wine  together, 
ringing  the  glass,  crossing  their  arms  and  kissing,  after  which 
ceremony  the  parties  can  never  fight  a  duel  together,  or  speak 
to  each  other  otherwise  than  with  "  Bu,"  in  which  case  they 
are  said  to  be  "  Bu  "  together. 

The  Germans  are  certainly  the  most  musical  nation  on 
earth.  It  is  almost  impossible  to  meet  a  student  who  cannot 
sing  a  thousand  songs  and  play  at  least  one  instrument.  We 
have  at  dinner  a  full  band  of  music  playing,  and  there  are 
concerts  in  the  public  gardens  here  as  often  as  once  a  week. 
The  Germans  appear  to  me  the  most  affectionate  and  (but  you 
will  not  think  it)  the  most  enthusiastic  people  on  earth. 
Certainly  they  are  infinitely  the  most  industrious  and  studious. 
Almost  all  the  students  study  somewhat,  and  the  greatest 
part  of  them  immensely,  besides  writing  off  at  the  lectures 
nearly  every  word  the  professor  says.  But  the  character  of 
these  students  is  a  labyrinth  out  of  which  I  cannot  find  my 
way,  and  must  snap  the  thread  at  once  if  this  letter  is  ever  to 
cross  the  Atlantic,  and  it  is  now  of  unconscionable  length  and 
weight.  Your  affectionate  son, 

J.  L.  M. 


24  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  II. 

To  his  Parents. 

Gottingen, 
August  12th,  1832. 

My  dear  Parents, — I  believe  that  it  is  a  longer  time  than 
it  ought  to  be  since  I  have  written  home,  and  I  am  now  so 
much  pressed  for  time  that  I  shall  almost  be  ashamed  to  send 
the  letter.  The  vacation  begins  in  two  or  three  weeks,  and 
my  lessons  and  the  one  lecture  that  I  had  is  ended,  and  to-day 
at  one  o'clock  I  am  going  off  with  a  party  of  three  students  on 
a  foot  journey  to  the  Tyrol,  a  part  of  Switzerland,  and  through 
the  Khine  Valley.  I  have  no  doubt  you  will  be  very  glad  that 
I  have  had  the  opportunity  of  travelling  through  this  part  of 
the  country  in  the  manner  in  which  I  shall  now  do  it — that  is 
to  say,  as  a  German  student  and  with  German  students,  and 
on  foot  the  principal  part  of  the  way.  The  expense  of  the 
journey  will  be  very  small,  considering  the  time  we  are  to  be 
absent  and  the  length  we  are  to  go  ;  and  by  the  arrangement 
that  Mr.  Gossler  has  made  about  my  money,  I  shall  not 
throughout  the  year  spend  a  groschen  more  than  you  have 
allowed  me,  including  the  expenses  of  the  journey.  You  must 
not  think  that  I  am  neglecting  my  business  to  amuse  myself; 
the  vacation  begins  in  two  or  three  weeks,  and  we  return 
before  the  beginning  of  the  next  Semester.  But  of  course  I 
shall  be  back  in  time  to  arrange  my  lectures  and  lessons  (the 
rooms  which  I  have  now  I  shall  retain).  This  term  I  cannot 
pretend  to  have  done  much  in  the  way  of  studying  law, 
because  it  was  impossible  for  me  to  attend  lectures  with  any 
profit  before  I  knew  enough  of  the  language  to  understand 
them  perfectly.  But  I  have  studied  German  a  great  deal  this 
term,  and  by  mixing  a  good  deal  with  the  students  on  all 
occasions,  I  have  made  some  progress  in  speaking  and  under- 
standing the  language.  By  reading  a  great  deal  of  German 
every  day,  too,  I  have  become  able  to  read  it  almost  as  easily 
as  English. 

Next  term  I  shall  remain  here,  and  attend  a  course  of 
lectures  on  the  'Institutes'  and  the  'History  of  the  Civil 
Law,'  which  I  think  I  shall  be  able  entirely  to  understand  ; 


1832.]  PLESSE  CASTLE.  25 

and  after  next  term  I  shall  go  either  to  Munich  or  Berlin  to 
continue.  I  shall  advise  with  some  of  the  Professors  to  know 
Avhich  is  the  best  University  for  the  summer  term  and  which 
for  the  winter  term,  and  arrange  my  plans  accordingly.  It  is 
at  all  events  not  worth  one's  while  to  remain  long  at  Got- 
tingen,  because  most  of  the  Professors  who  were  ornaments  of 
the  University  are  dead  or  decayed,  and  the  town  itself  is 
excessively  dull.  I  am,  however,  myself  very  pleasantly 
situated  here.  I  have  formed  very  agreeable  acquaintances 
among  the  German  students,  and  I  have  mixed  with  them  on 
all  occasions  and  in  all  places,  like  one  of  them.  I  believe  I 
told  you  in  my  last  letter  about  the  ceremony  of  drinking 
"  Schmollets  "  or  Brotherhood.  It  is  a  very  pleasant  way  of 
sealing  a  friendship,  and  I  have  drunk  it  with  several  of  the 
best  students  here. 

There  are  five  or  six  ruined  castles  near  Gottingen,  the 
finest  of  which  are  the  Hardenburg  and  the  Plesse  Castles, 
both  complete  and  deserted  ruins,  but  very  well  preserved. 
The  Plesse  is  much  the  finest  of  the  two.  Large  parts  of  the 
walls  are  standing,  and  two  turrets  ;  but  the  moat  is  choked  up 
with  shrubs  and  bushes  of  a  century's  growth,  and  there  are 
great  oaks  growing  in  the  midst  of  the  hall.  It  is  probably 
near  a  thousand  years  old,  and  has  been  a  ruin  for  centuries. 
It  was,  as  all  these  German  robber  knights'  castles  were,  built 
upon  a  very  high  and  steep  hill,  and  surrounded  by  a  deep 
moat  with  a  drawbridge.  The  hill  still  remains  in  its  primeval 
steepness,  as  my  muscles  could  vouch  for  many  days  after  my 
visit ;  but  the  moat  is  now  a  thicket,  and  only  the  ruins  of  the 
portal,  to  which  the  drawbridge  conducted,  remains.  The  deep 
cellar  vaults  are  also  still  perfect,  where  plenty  of  Rhenish 
wine  has  ripened,  and  the  part  of  the  donjon  and  the  watch- 
towers,  with  their  deep  shot  holes  and  broken  staircases,  still 
remain. 

The  great  hall,  too,  is  marked  out  by  its  broken  and  weed- 
covered  walls,  and  a  huge  stone  fireplace  is  hanging  on  the 
wall,  half  covered  by  the  branches  of  the  trees  that  have  taken 
quiet  possession  of  the  banqueting  room  of  the  Grafs  von 
Plesse.     I  could  not  help  thinking  that  the  last  party  who  sat 


26  MOTLEY'S  LETTEES.  [Chap.  II. 

round  that  fireplace  would  be  somewliat  surprised  if  they  could 
come  into  their  old  premises  again,  and  see  what  a  fresh  supply 
of  firewood  was  close  at  hand. 

I  have  been  giving  a  very  tame  description  of  a  ruin,  and  I 
shall  undoubtedly  see  many  a  thousand  times  more  interesting 
on  the  Khine,  but  the  effect  which  this  first  antiquity  had 
upon  my  brain  was  so  turbulent  that  it  effervesced  for  some 
time,  and  at  last  evaporated  in  a  disagreeably  long  ode  in  the 
German  taste,  which,  however,  I  will  not  increase  the  postage 
of  this  letter  with.  There  are  two  or  three  things  which  I 
have  yet  to  describe,  and  which  illustrate  well  the  character 
of  the  students,  such  as  the  "  Landsmannschaft  Kneipen," 
or  drinking  parties,  and  the  ceremony  of  the  "  Landsvater." 
I  will,  however,  on  the  whole  postpone  them  till  I  can 
give  a  fuller  account  of  them,  which  will  not  be  till  after 
I  return. 

With  best  love  to  all  my  brothers  and  sisters, 
I  am 

Your  affectionate  son, 

J.  LoTHROP  Motley. 

P.S. — Do  write,  write,  write.     I  have  had  no  letters  for  an 


To  Ms  Parents. 


Gottingen, 
November  25th,  1832. 

My  deak  Father  and  Mother, —  ....  With  respect 
to  my  local  habitation  after  this  term,  my  intentions  are 
somewhat  altered.  I  think  after  Easter  of  removing  to 
Munich,  which  has  now  become  one  of  the  most  eminent 
Universities  in  Germany,  and  where  are  several  very  useful 
and  wise  expounders  of  the  laws,  and  which,  moreover,  is  a 
much  more  agreeable  tarry  in  g-place  in  the  summer  (be- 
sides, my  friend  King  and  another  American  friend  of  mine, 
Amory  Coffin,  who  was  here  last  summer,  are  both  going  to 
Munich  next  summer),  and  then  of  passing   the  winter  in 


1832.]  GEORGE  WASHINGTON'S  LETTER.  27 

Berlin,  because  it  is  only  in  winter  Savigny,  the  most  cele- 
brated jurist  of  Germany,  reads,  and  him  I  have  been  advised 
by  everybody  by  all  means  to  hear.  By  the  time  I  have  done 
with  Berlin,  I  think  I  shall  have  the  *  Civil  Law '  tolerably 
perfectly,  that  is  in  a  year  from  April  next,  and  then — but 
we  won't  cast  so  many  "retrospections  on  the  future,"  as 
Mrs.  Malaprop  says;  but  some  day,  when  I  am  in  a  very 
philosophical  mood,  I  will  write  you  as  practical  and  wise 
a  letter  as  I  can  about  the  way  and  means  I  must  find  to 
open  what  ancient  Pistol  calls  "  this  oyster  world,"  being  a 
setting  forth  of  the  praiseworthy  ideas  which  every  young 
gentleman  is  oppressed  with  at  the  time  of  life  when  he  leaves 
off  writing  bad  verses,  and  discovers  that  immortality  is  not 
seated  in  every  goose  quill.  Thank  Heaven ! — and  I  am 
sure  you  will  join  in  the  thanksgiving — I  have  quite  done 
with  Pegasus,  and  begin  to  affect  the  "  beauty  of  utility." 
But  till  such  time  as  my  philosophical  humour  cometh,  we  will 
leave  all  reflections  on  future  destinations. 

Will  you  indulge  me  in  one  request  ?  Don't  wait  always  to 
send  your  letters  direct  to  Hamburg ;  they  seldom  come  one 
bit  sooner,  if  the  vessel  sails  the  moment  the  letter  is  sealed, 
than  if  they  came  by  England  or  France ;  and  if  you  write  to 
me  once  in  two  or  three  weeks,  and  drop  the  letters  into  the 
post-office,  via  Havre  or  Liverpool,  they  will  be  always  in  my 
hands  in  seven  or  eight  weeks.  Here  am  I  now  with  my  direct 
letters  (I  ought  to  have  thanked  you  before  for  all  those 
pleasant  letters)  in  the  end  of  November  knowing  nothing 
at  all  about  you  since  the  end  of  July.  And  King  has  plenty 
of  September  letters,  because  they  come  by  the  packets,  and 
through  France. 

I  am  very  much  obliged  to  you  for  Washington's  letter,^  and 

'  From  George  Washington  to  Motley's      has  within  a  few  days  past  been  put 
grandfatlier,  the  Rev.  John  Lothrop.         into  my  hands. 


Mount  Vernon, 


I  observe  with  sinfmlar  satisfaction 


the  cases  in  which  yoiur  benevolent 

'         '  institution  has  been  instnunental  in 

Revered  and  respected  Sm,— Your      recalling  some  of  our  fellow-creatures 

acceptable  favour  of  the  16th  of  May,      as  it  were  from  beyond  the  gates  of 

covering  a  recent  publication  of  the      eternity,  and  has  given  occasion  for  the 

Proceedings  of  the  Humane  Society,      hearts  of  parents  and  friends  to  leap 


28 


MOTLEY'S  LETTEKS. 


[Chap.  II. 


you  may  be  quite  sure  I  shall  keep  it  very  religiously,  and 
should  like  very  much  to  have  Franklin's  letters,  which 
mother  speaks  of,  and  can  certainly  very  easily  send.  I  have 
also  received  your  '  Morris,'  which  was  a  very  agreeable 
present. 

I  am, 
\  Your  most  affectionate  son, 

J.  LoTHROP  Motley. 


To  his  Mother. 


Berlin,  Friediich's  Strasse,  No.  161,  up  one  pair  of  stairs, 
September,  1833. 

My  dear  Mother, — I  am  settled  in  this  most  right-angled 
of  cities,  in  very  comfortable  lodgings.  I  dine  in  a  neighbour- 
ing hotel.  Every  morning  my  expounder  of  the  divine  science 
of  LAW  comes  to  my  room  for  a  hour  and  a  half.  I  have  an 
dbonnement  at  a  circulating  library  in  the  neighbourhood,  and 


for  joy.  The  provision  made  for  ship- 
wrecked mariners  is  also  highly  estim- 
able in  the  view  of  every  philanthropic 
mind,  and  greatly  consolatory  to  that 
suffering  part  of  the  community.  These 
things  will  draw  upon  you  the  bless- 
ings of  those  who  were  nigh  to  perish. 
These  works  of  charity  and  goodwill 
towards  men  reflect,  in  my  estimation, 
great  lustre  upon  the  authors,  and 
presage  an  era  of  still  further  improrve- 
ment. 

How  pitiful  in  the  eye  of  reason  and 
religion  is  that  false  ambition  which 
desolates  the  world  with  fire  and  sword 
for  the  purposes  of  conquest  and  fame, 
while  compared  to  the  minor  virtues  of 
making  our  neighbours  and  our  fellow- 
men  as  happy  as  their  frail  conditions 
and  perishable  natures  wiJl  permit  them 
to  be ! 

I  am  happy  to  find  that  the  proposed 
General  Government  meets  with  your 


approbation — as,  indeed,  it  does  with 
that  of  most  disinterested  and  discern- 
ing men.  The  Convention  of  this  State 
is  now  in  session,  and  I  cannot  but  hope 
that  the  Constitution  will  be  adopted 
by  it — though  not  without  considerable 
opposition. .  I  trust,  however,  that  the 
commendable  example  exhibited  by  the 
minority  in  your  State  will  not  be  with- 
out its  salutary  influence  on  this.  In 
truth  it  appears  to  me  that  should  the 
proposed  Government  be  generally 
harmoniously  adopted,  it  will  be  a 
new  phenomenon  in  the  political  and 
moral  world,  and  an  astonishing  vic- 
tory gained  by  enlightened  reason  over 
brutal  force.     I  have  the  honour  to  be, 

With  very  great  consideration, 
Eevered  and  respected  sir, 

Your  most  obedient  and  humble 
servant, 

G.  Washington. 


1833.]  THE  USE  OF  PUBLIC  GALLERIES.  29 

as  soon  as  the  term  bep^ins  (I  forg^ot  to  tell  you  in  what  good 
season  I  got  here,  for  the  holidays  are  not  finished  till  after 
two  or  three  weeks),  I  shall  have  myself  matriculated  at  the 
University. 

In  the  winter,  there  is  generally  a  good  deal  of  society  here. 
I  have  a  letter  to  Mr.  von  Savigny,  a  celebrated  professor, 
who  sees  a  good  deal  of  company,  I  believe,  which  I  intend  to 
deliver  in  the  course  of  a  week  or  two ;  and  with  the  help  of 
one  or  two  old  acquaintances  whom  I  have  met  here,  I  shall 
see  as  much  of  society  as  I  wish. 

I  suppose  I  ought  to  describe  the  wonders  and  sights  of 
Berlin,  and  I  shall  take  the  first  opportunity  to  drive  to 
Potsdam,  and  see  the  Palace  Sans  Souci,  of  which  you  have 
heard. 

When  I  see  here  in  Europe  such  sums  of  money  spent  by 
the  Government  upon  every  branch  of  the  fine  arts,  I  cannot 
help  asking  why  we  at  home  have  no  picture  galleries  or 
statue  galleries  or  libraries.  I  cannot  see  at  all  that  such 
things  are  only  fit  for  monarchies,  and  I  cannot  give  myself 
any  reason  why  our  Government  should  not  spend  some  of 
its  surplus  money  upon  them.  They  have  certainly  money 
enough,  and  in  many  respects  the  United  States  may  be  called 
the  richest  country  in  the  world  ;  at  least,  if  we  may  reason,  as 
Lovelace  in  the  play  does,  who  calculated  his  wife's  fortune, 
not  by  the  definite  number  of  pounds,  shillings,  and  pence 
which  she  has — for  she  had  nothing — but  by  the  many  possible 
species  of  extravagance  which  she  has  not — thus,  £500  a  year 
because  she  does  not  plmj ;  £500  more  because  she  has 
no  passion  for  dress,  etc.,  etc.  So  we  may  say  of  America, 
$50,000  a  year  because  we  have  no  army;  $50,000  more 
because  we  have  no  debts,  and  so  on  to  the  end  of  the 
chapter. 

Now,  why  cannot  the  "good  and  senseless"  men  (as 
Dogberry  tells  them)  in  Congress  vote  a  sum  for  a  library  or 
a  gallery  or  anything  of  the  kind,  instead  of  going  to  logger- 
heads about  surplus  dollars  which  are  lying  so  comfortably  in 
the  treasury  ? 

In  every  possible  improvement  that  is  strictly  utilitarian. 


30  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  IL 

America  is  taking  the  lead  of  Europe.  One  finds  nowhere 
better  railroads  and  steamboats,  warehouses  or  ships  than  at 
home ;  but  there  is  not  a  library  worthy  of  the  name  in  the 
Avhole  territory  of  the  United  States,  from  Passamaquoddy  Bay 
to  Okafonoke  Swamp ;  and  in  Germany  alone  there  are  dozens 
of  public  libraries,  any  single  one  of  which  would  weigh  up 
all  that  we  have  put  together ;  and  so  there  are  in  England, 
France,  Italy,  Spain,  etc.,  etc. 

I  shall  fold  up  this  letter  now,  that  it  may  be  ready  for  the 
post  to-night.  I  shall  write  again  in  the  course  of  the  next 
week  or  two,  and  I  hope  you  will  be  as  liberal  to  me.  I  have 
heard  nothing  yet  from  home  since  I  left.  Why  can't  you 
write  regularly  by  the  New  York  packets,  which  sail  to  Havre 
or  Liverpool  half-a-dozen  times  a  month  ? 

With  love  to  all  at  home, 

Your  affectionate  son, 

J.  LoTHRor  Motley. 


To  his  Parents. 


Berlin, 
Novemher  ith,  1833. 

My  dear  Father  and  Mother, — I  told  you  in  my  last 
that  Berlin  had  no  great  menagerie  of  lions,  and  I  have  since 
seen  very  little  to  alter  my  opinion.  My  "  way  of  life  "  is  very 
regular.  After  tea  and  the  newspaper  every  morning,  comes 
my  Bezensent,  that  is,  a  Doctor  of  Laws,  who  reads  and  expounds 
to  me  for  a  couple  of  hours  the  Institutes  and  Pandects  of  the 
corpus  juris ;  and  I  then  spend  another  couple  of  hours  in 
"  stuffing  noting "  books  with  the  wisdom  I  have  gained. 
Savigny,  whose  lectures  on  the  Pandects  I  intend  to  hear,  does 
not  begin  to  read  for  a  few  days.  His  lecture  will  probably  be 
the  only  judicial  one  I  shall  hear,  and  I  have  not  determined 
on  the  other.  My  principal  study  is,  of  course,  the  Eoman 
law  and  its  history,  and  this  I  hope  to  have  learned  tolerably, 
with  the  assistance  of  the  above -mentioned  "learned  Theban," 
by  the  end  of  the  Semester,  that  is  to  say,  somewhere  in  March, 


1S33.]  THE  THEATRE  IN  BERLIN.  31 

aud  tlien  I  shall  have  done  with  Berlin  and  with  Germany  as 
a  residence.  There  are  three  theatres — the  Koyal  Opera,  the 
Royal  Playhouse,  and  the  City  Theatre — all  equally  good.  The 
first  is,  however,  the  finest  house,  in  which  all  the  fashionable 
operas  and  theatres  are  given.  In  the  Playhouse  is  an  excel- 
lent French  drama ;  and  in  the  City  Theatre  an  Italian  opera 
and  a  very  good  comic  company.  The  ballets  are  particu- 
larly good  in  the  Opera  House.  The  Terpsichore  of  Berlin  is 
Taglioni,  not  the  Taglioni  of  London  and  Paris  celebrity, 
but  her  sister-in-law. 

The  great  tragedy  star  of  Berlin  and  of  Germany,  Devrient, 
is  dead.     He   was  particularly  celebrated  in   Shakesperean 
characters,   Shylock,   Lear,  Richard,  and  others,  and,  singu- 
larly enough,  the  study  of  Lear's  character  was  the  cause  of 
his  death.      In  order  to  perfect  himself  in  the  character  of 
the  crazy  king,  he  spent  daily  many  hours  in  different  mad- 
houses, observing  and  imitating  all  possible  kinds  of  madness ; 
the  consequence  of  which  was,  that  after   a  short  time  he 
became  raving  mad  himself,  and  died  a  victim  to  Melpomene. 
At  present  they  have  no  one  to  supply  his  place.     Shake- 
speare's tragedies  are  seldom  given,  and  notwithstanding  the 
richness  of  the  modem  German  literature,  they  have  very 
few  fine-acting  tragedies.     The  chefs-d'oeuvre  of  Goethe  and 
Schiller  are  not  adapted  to  the  stage.     Some  of  them  are 
occasionally  given,  but  seldom  with  success.    The  other  even- 
ing the  drama  of  *Goetz  von  Berlichingen  with  the  Iron 
Hand,'  a  magnificent  picture  of  the  old  time  in  Germany,  and 
one  of  Goethe's  masterpieces,  was  given,  but  with  so  many 
stage  alterations,  that  from  a  serious  martial  tragedy  it  was 
metamorphosed  into  a  farce  or  a  sort  of  Tom  Thumb  melo- 
drama, full  of  scenes  excellently  fitted  "  to  amuse  the  ears  of 
the  groundlings,"  and  to  disgust  everybody  who  had  read  a 
line  of  the  original.     The  character  of  Goetz  von  Berlich- 
ingen, the  best  possible  portrait  of  a  knight  of  the  middle 
ages,  part  robber,  part  soldier,  and  part  ]}reux  chevalier,  was 
given  by  a  thickset,  periwig-pated  fellow,  whose  sole  effort 
was  to  represent   Goetz  as  a  lusty  knight  "  most  potent  at 
potting,"  who  could  never  keep  his  fingers  from  the  flask  of 


32  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  IL 

Ehenish,  except  when  he  was  slaughtering  legions  and  com- 
mitting unheard-of  exploits  with  his  iron  fist.  And  this  same 
Mr.  Rott,  as  I  believe  they  call  him,  had  the  other  day  the 
impertinence  to  play  Shylock,  which  I  was  so  lucky  not  to 
see. 

A  favourite  author  of  mine,  Lichtenberg,  in  his  lifetime  a 
celebrated  wit  and  professor  at  Gottingen,  said  that  he  never 
knew  his  own  language  until  he  had  learned  another.  The 
opinions  in  Germany  concerning  America  are  singularly  con- 
tradictory. The  Germans  generally  may  be  divided  very 
conveniently  into  two  great  classes — the  Yons  and  the  not- 
Vons.  Those  who  are  lucky  enough  to  have  the  three  magical 
letters  VON  before  their  names  belong  to  the  nobility,  and 
are  of  course  aristocratic  to  the  last  degree.  Those  who  have 
not  these  three  may  have  all  the  other  letters  of  the  alphabet 
in  all  possible  combinations,  and  are  still  nothing  but  ple- 
beians. This  proud  class  are  all  ne  plus  ultra  radicals.  It  is 
as  impossible  to  persuade  one  of  the  first  class  that  in  the 
United  States  anything  exists  but  democracy  and  demagogues 
as  it  is  to  convince  the  others,  particularly  those  of  the  lowest 
and  emigrating  class,  that  they  will  not  find  the  streets  paved 
with  dollars  and  their  pockets  stuffed  with  bank-notes  as 
soon  as  they  arrive  in  New  York — that  El  Dorado  of  their 
expectations. 

Your  affectionate  son, 

J.  L.  M. 


To  his  Father. 

Berlin, 
January  17  th,  1834. 

My  deae  Father,— Day  before  yesterday  I  took  a  drive  to 
Potsdam — which  I  had  not  before  seen.  You  know  it  was  the 
favourite  residence  of  Frederick  the  Great,  and  it  is  only  on 
his  account  that  it  is  interesting.  It  is  about  twenty  English 
miles  from  here,  and  looks  like  a  continuation  of  Berlin, 
having  the  same  right-angled  streets  and  yellow-stuccoed 
houses.     We  drove  there  in  the  diligence,  after  having  first 


1834.]  POTSDAM.  83 

**  legitimated  "  ourselves,  as  the  German  phrase  is — that  is  to 
say,  informed  the  post-office  what  our  names,  characters, 
religion,  etc.,  etc.,  were.  (How  amusing  it  would  be  if  one  should 
be  obliged  always  to  take  a  passport  with  him  when  he  went 
in  the  stage  coach,  for  example,  from  Boston  to  Salem !  and 
yet  the  Prussian  police  is  as  strict  as  that  would  be.)  The 
first  thing  we  looked  at  was  the  Palace  Sans  Souci,  which  was 
built  by  the  famous  Fritz.  Here  everything  has  been  left  in 
the  same  state  as  at  his  death.  You  are  shown  into  his  study, 
where  his  table  stands  covered  with  ink-blots,  into  his  bed- 
room, etc.  The  whole  house  is  very  simple,  and  the  gardens 
around  it  in  the  French  style.  You  know  he  was  a  passionate 
admirer  of  everything  French,  which  he  spoke  and  wrote 
much  better  than  anything  German  (in  fact,  he  knew  very 
little  of  his  own  language,  and  all  his  works  are  written  in 
French).  Near  the  house  are  the  tombs  of  his  favourite  dogs, 
and  not  far  from  them  the  white  horse  which  he  rode  so  often 
in  the  Seven  Years'  War  lies  buried. 

There  are  two  other  palaces  here — one  of  which  is  a  fine 
building,  and  the  only  splendid  residence  which  the  King  of 
Prussia  has,  the  palaces  in  Berlin  being  all  very  simple, 
private-looking  houses.  Here  is  also  a  very  elegant  and 
tasteful  villa  in  the  Italian  style,  belonging  to  the  present 
Crown  Prince. 

In  the  evening  we  were  invited  to  a  kind  of  military  ball, 
where,  as  is  proper  and  fitting  in  Prussia,  all  the  ladies  were 
of  ice-gray  nobility,  and  all  the  gentlemen  were  officers,  with 
a  profusion  of  gold  lace  and  orders,  or  civilians  with  most 
portentous  stars  on  their  breasts.  It  was  rather  dull,  but  it 
must  be  confessed  that  the  Germans  are  very  polite  to 
strangers,  and  I  have  experienced  nothing  but  kindness  and 
civility  in  every  town  that  I  have  been  in.  The  most  impor- 
tant part  of  my  letter  is  to  come,  although  I  have  already 
nearly  finished  my  paper. 

You  remember  I  was  to  stay  in  Berlin  for  the  winter,  that 
is  to  say,  about  six  months.  I  now  write  to  tell  you  my  plans 
for  leaving,  and  I  beg  of  you  to  answer  me  as  soon  as  possible, 
and  by  the  way  of  London  or  Havre,  because  your  letter 

VOL.    L  D 


34  MOTLEY'S  LETTEKS.  [Chap.  II. 

cannot  reacli  at  soonest  before  I  am  ready  to  leave  Berlin.  I 
shall  not  give  you  a  long  compte  rendu  of  what  I  have  done 
since  I  have  been  here ;  you  must  examine  for  yourself  when  I 
return.  I  think  I  could  bear  a  tolerable  examination  in  the 
Civil  Law  in  a  few  weeks,  at  which  time  I  shall  have  finished 
the  study  of  it.  I  hope  in  the  course  of  two  months  to  have 
some  knowledge  of  the  German  Common  Law  and  of  the  Law 
of  Nations,  which  I  have  also  been  studying.  Of  my  other 
studies,  which  have  been  merely  for  myself,  I  shall  say 
nothing. 

As  soon  as  your  answer  to  this  reaches  me,  which  I  hope 
will  be  early  in  April,  I  should  wish  to  leave  this  for  Weimar 
— from  thence  to  Leipzig,  Dresden,  and  Vienna,  and  so  to 
Paris,  where  I  should  not  wish  to  stay  long,  but  rather  spend 
the  summer  in  the  South  of  France.  I  wish  to  stay  long 
enough  to  perfect  myself  in  speaking  and  writing  the  language 
and  to  see  the  country,  which  I  could  do  I  think  in  the  course 
of  four  or  five  months — no  longer.  (With  the  Italian  language 
I  hope  to  do  the  same  afterwards.)  My  plans  for  the  winter 
are  not  fully  arranged,  as  I  said,  but  before  that  I  have  time 
enough  to  send  them  for  your  approval.  Those  for  the 
next  summer  are  so,  and  I  hope  that  you  will  consent  to 
them. 

Your  affectionate  son, 

J.  L.  M. 


(    35    ) 


CHAPTER  III. 

AUSTRIA — FBANCE — ITALY. 

Vienna — Madame  do  Goethe — Tieck  and  his  works — Journey  from  Vienna  to 
Styria,  Tyrol,  etc. — German  postillions— Styriaii  Alps — Molk — Amstetten — 
Neubach — St.  Florian — Salzburg — An  ancient  hermitage — Burial  ctistoma 
— Hallein  —  Salt  mines  —  Salzach  Valley— Bad-Gastein — Nassfeld — "  Old 
Testament  scenery  " — A  remote  village — Rome — The  Apollo  Belvedere — 
Naples — Hadrian's  villa — Reviving  old  scenes — Guido's  Aurora — Reflections 
on  the  art  treasures  of  Rome — Tour  in  Sicily — Catania — Taormina — Classical 
associations — Etna — An  ascent  under  difficulties — An  arduous  climb — And 
a  disappointment — Girgenti — A  perilous  voyage  to  Malta — Return  to  Paris 
— Salisbury  Cathedral — Comparison  of  English  and  Foreign  cathedrals — 
Stonehenge. 

To  his  Mother. 

Vienna, 
June  2nd,  1834. 

My  DEAR  Mother, — 

*  *  *  *  * 

Madame  de  Goethe,  of  whom  I  spoke  in  my  last  letter,  gave 
me  a  letter  to  a  Countess  Finkenstein  of  Dresden,  an  old  lady 
who  lives  in  Tieck's  family,  and  by  whom  I  was  introduced  to 
this  author.  I  had  been  very  much  disappointed,  as  you 
know,  in  not  having  been  in  Germany  before  Goethe's  death, 
that  I  might  have  seen  that  Nestor  of  literature,  and  this  has 
been  in  some  sort  a  compensation!  I  do  not  know  if  many  of 
Tieck's  works  have  been  translated  into  English.  If  they 
have,  you  will  get  them  at   the  Athena3um.     Inquire  for 

*  Fantasas '  or  '  Puss  in  Boots  '  or  the  *  World  upside  down,'  or 
Tieck's  novels  (which  last  are  a  set  of  exquisite  little  tales, 
novels  in  the  original  meaning  of  the  word),  full  of  old 
German  legends  and  superstitions,  and  the  authorship  of 
which  will  entitle  him  to  the  title  of  German  'Boccaccio.' 
The  other  works  are  the  old  nursery  tales  of  *  Fortunatus,' 

*  Puss  in  Boots,'  *  Blue  Beard,'  etc.,  etc.,  done  into  plays  (not 
for  the  stage),  and  as  full  of  playful  and  sharp  satire,  poetry 

D  2 


36  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  III. 

and  plain  sense  as  they  can  hold.  If  they  have  not  been 
translated  we  shall  have  a  chance  of  reading  them  together 
one  of  these  days.  I  was  invited  by  Tieck  to  tea  on  Sunday 
evening,  when  tliere  was  a  small  party.  He  is  at  present  just 
about  finishing  his  translation  of  Shakespeare  (in  company 
with  Schlegel),  and  is  in  the  habit  of  reading  a  play  aloud  to 
a  party  of  select  auditors.  I  did  not  hear  him,  and  rather 
regret  it,  because  he  seems  to  be  rather  vain  of  his  elocution. 
His  head  and  bust  are  fine,  and  it  was  not  till  he  got  up  from 
his  chair  that  I  observed  he  was  slightly  deformed  (hump- 
backed). His  conversation  was  like  his  books,  playful,  full  of 
"bonhomie,  good-natured  sort  of  satire,  and  perhaps  a  little 
childish  vanity.  He  spoke  of  Cooper,  Irving  (whom  he  knew 
in  Dresden,  and  whom  he  admired  very  much),  steamboats, 
homoeopathism,  himself,  elocution,  with  Shakespeare  and  the 
musical  glasses.  His  conversation  was  pleasing  and  quiet, 
but  without  any  great  show  or  brilliancy ;  "  and  so  much  for 
Buckingham." 


Extract  from  Diary  sent  to  Ms  Parents. 

Paris, 
July  8th,  1834. 

June  11th. — Leave  Vienna  for  Styria,  Salzburg,  and  the 
Tyrol,  meaning  to  go  afterwards  by  the  way  of  Munich  tc 
Strasbourg,  and  so  to  Paris.  An  old  caleche  (a  Vienna  ac- 
quisition), drawn  by  two  post  horses  tied  by  ropes  to  the 
carriage  and  driven  by  a  postillion  with  gold  lace,  cocked 
hat,  feathers  and  spurs  enough  to  set  out  a  whole  dozen 
militia  generals,  is  our  conveyance  for  the  present,  because 
in  Austria  two  together  can  post  cheaper  than  they  can  go  in 
the  diligence.  The  postillions  all  over  the  Continent  are 
certainly  the  most  perfect  race  of  caricatures  in  existence,  and 
the  Austrian  was  the  most  absurd  of  all.  Eoad  up  the 
Danube — misty,  moisty  morning,  and  hills  covered  with 
clouds.  Clears  up  towards  noon,  and  shows  us  the  chain  of 
Styrian  Alps  on  the  left,  but  not  quite  near  enough,  except 


1834.]  STYRIA— SALZBURG.  87 

one  fine  broad-shouldered  old  mountain  (the  Eschenberg), 
with  ribands  of  snow  hanging  about  his  head.  Pity  we  took 
the  upper  instead  of  the  lower  road,  and  so  missed  seeing  the 
best  part  of  Styria.  Dine  at  IMolk,  where  we  revisit  the 
glimpses  of  the  Danube.  Molk  monastery,  a  pretty  old  abbey 
on  the  edge  of  the  river  and  in  the  very  midst  of  the  fattest 
and  sleekest  part  of  Austria.  Eoad  continues  through  an 
ocean  of  wheat  and  rye,  with  snug  cottages,  white  villages, 
distant  Alps,  and  occasionally  the  Danube,  the  mother  of 
German  rivers.     Sleep  at  a  little  town  called  Amstetten. 

June  12th. — Drive  out  at  four.  Mountains  more  gaunt  and 
grim.  Styrian  and  in  part  Salzburg  Alps.  Pass  another 
sleek  abbey  with  two  hunting  lodges  appertaining  and  wide 
fields  and  farms.  These  are  your  true  monks — none  of  your 
bare-footed,  rosaried  and  roped  friars,  but  jovial  old  gentle- 
men, living  complacently  on  the  fat  of  the  laud  and  the 
peasants'  expense — to  whom — 

"They  show  the  steep  and  thorny  way  to  heaven, 
While  they  the  primrose  path  of  dalliance  tread, 
And  reck  not  their  own  rede." 

Weather  all  day  perfect.  Fields  all  waving  with  wheat  and 
com  and  clover,  and  in  this  carnival  season  of  the  year  the 
old  earth  looked  as  if  dressed  for  a  planet's  ball  and  deter- 
mined to  eclipse  all  other  stars.  Alps  all  day  on  the  left,  with 
Traunstein,  black,  shag-eared,  beetle-browed  old  mountain, 
tallest  of  the  clan.  This  mountain  is  near  Ischl,  is  the  highest 
in  Upper  Austria,  and  .was  our  companion  all  day. 

Dine  at  Neubach,  wide,  dry,  unfruitful-looking  plain  for 
two  or  three  German  miles,  cross  the  railroad,  which,  wonder- 
ful to  relate  for  Germany,  is  actually  begun,  and  is  to  go  from 
Gmunden  to  Linz  on  the  Danube,  and  thence  to  Prague, 
opening  the  communication,  in  conjunction  with  the  Danube, 
between  the  salt  mines  in  Salzburg  in  the  south  and  the 
interior  of  Bohemia  in  the  north  with  Vienna,  owned  by  a 
company  of  which  Kothschild  and  houses  in  Hamburg  and 
Vienna  are  the  principal,  but  is  to  revert  to  the  Government 
in  fifty  years. 

Houses  becoming  more  Swiss-like,  wooden,  with  porticoes 


38  MOTLEY'S  LETTEES.  [Chap.  IH. 

and  large  stones  on  the  roof,  which  last  is  universal  in 
Switzerland  and  Tyrol.  Among  other  Catholic  images  which 
are  strewed  all  along  the  roadside,  one  in  particular  puzzled 
me  for  a  long  time — the  figure  of  a  saint  in  armour  with  a 
sword  in  the  right  hand  and  a  bucket  of  water  in  the  left, 
which  he  is  emptying  on  a  burning  house.  I  have  found  that  it 
is  St.  Florian,  the  patron  saint  of  burning  houses  and  firemen, 
and  also,  according  to  the  popular  legends,  of  innkeepers  and 
brewers,  to  whom  he  always  sends  a  sufficient  quantity  of 
water  to  temper  their  wine  and  other  potations,  and  who  in 
gratitude,  as  I  have  observed,  have  always  his  figure  over  their 
doorways. 

Night  at  Frankenmarkt,  twenty  German  miles  from  Amstet- 
ten,  where  we  stopped  last  night.  All  day  weather  as  perfect 
as  if  sent  express  from  Eden. 

JunelSth. — Two  posts  through — better  and  better  mountains 
— to  Salzburg  on  the  Salzach,  a  town  too  beautiful  for  reality. 
A  rapid  river  and  the  greenest  valley.  On  one  side  an  old 
cloister,  on  the  other  a  magnificent  impregnable-looking  old 
castle.  Streets  and  houses  all  white  and  Italian  looking,  and 
the  whole  in  the  richest  little  valley  (just  large  enough  to  hold 
it),  where  summer  is  eternally  smiling,  while  around  and  above 
are  immense  ice  mountains,  where  everlasting  winter  sits 
shivering  on  his  throne.  In  this  town,  where  we  stayed  but 
six  hours,  and  would  have  been  content  to  have  stayed  as  many 
weeks,  besides  its  natural  beauties,  which  are  beyond  those  of 
any  town  I  ever  saw,  there  are  a  great  many  curious  things 
worthy  of  note ;  as,  for  instance,  a  very  handsome  gateway  to 
the  town,  cut  400  feet  through  the  solid  rock  of  one  of  the 
enclosing  mountains,  projected  and  accomplished  in  ten  years 
by  an  ambitious  ar<?hbishop,  Sigismund. 

There  also  still  exists  a  curious  and  very  ancient  hermitage, 
consisting  of  a  cell  and  little  chapel,  cut  in  the  very  heart  of 
the  mountains,  originally  belonging,  according  to  tradition,  to 
the  holy  Maximus,  a  Koman  monk  of  the  5th  century,  who  with 
his  brother  were  pitched  over  a  precipice  by  Odoacer  the  Goth 
as  a  reward  for  their  labours.  This  little  chapel  hangs  over 
the  church  of  St.  Peter,  an  ancient  hut  of  a  later  date  than 


1834.]  HALLEIN  SALT  MINES.  39 

itself.  I  amused  myself  for  some  time  in  the  churchyard  here 
in  looking  at  a  few  queer  old  family  tombs,  which  are  adorned 
with  some  rude  and  fantastic  paintings  representing  Death's 
doings,  with  queer  explanatory  inscriptions,  for  instance,  the 
figure  of  Death  playing  at  skittles  with  nine  cross  bones  and  a 
skull  for  a  ball.  Another,  Death  shuffling  oflf  the  body  of  a 
courtier  into  the  grave  in  a  very  unceremonious  manner.  On 
most  of  the  tombs  I  observed  the  singular  custom  of  preserving 
the  skulls  of  the  deceased  in  a  little  open  case.  I  took  up  one 
which  the  inscription  informed  me  belonged  to  a  "  beautiful 
and  accomplished  young  lady,  who  spoke  four  languages," 
I  suppose,  as  Sir  Toby  says,  "  word  for  word  without  book,"  and 
I  daresay  too  "  played  the  viol  de  Gamba  and  had  all  the  good 
gifts  of  nature."  Just  above  it  was  one  of  old  Death's  doings, 
pictures  of  a  much  earlier  date,  in  which  the  old  gentleman  is 
making  very  merry  with  a  scholar,  Avhom  he  is  tumbling  with 
all  his  library  into  the  grave,  with  an  inscription  which  is 
rather  too  long  for  quotation. 

Pass  through  the  mountains  one  post  to  Hallein,  where  are 
the  celebrated  salt  mines,  which  we  visited,  formerly  belong- 
ing to  the  sovereign  archbishops  of  Salzburg,  and  furnishing 
for  them  a  very  comfortable  revenue  of  some  millions  of 
florins.  They  are  now  a  monopoly  of  the  Austrian  Emperor, 
and,  like  all  the  Austrian  monopolies,  are  so  dear  that  they 
do  not  produce  half  as  much  as  they  should.  After  enduing 
ourselves  at  the  entrance  in  the  graceful  and  picturesque 
costume  of  a  miner,  viz.,  a  yellow  canvas  jacket  and  brown 
leather  breeches  and  a  red  woollen  night-cap  to  keep  out 
the  damp  air,  we  entered  the  principal  shaft  (which  is  for  a 
considerable  distance  cut  through  the  solid  marble)  in  order 
to  descend  to  the  principal  receiver,  "  Behalter,"  or  basin, 
which  is  1500  feet  below  the  surface  of  the  earth.  The  descent 
is  principally  made  in  a  peculiar  kind  of  slide,  on  which  you 
lay  yourself  almost  horizontally,  feet  foremost,  and  taking  hold 
of  a  rope  made  fast  above  and  below  in  one  hand  and  holding 
a  torch  in  the  other  hand  (which  answers  no  earthly  purpose 
that  I  could  discover  except  to  make  darkness  visible),  you 
slip  down  as  mechanically  and  almost  as  fast  as  a  weaver's 


40  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  III. 

shuttle,  in  which  operation  you  may  believe  that  the  above- 
mentioned  brown  breeches  were  of  no  small  advantage.  Here 
we  go,  swift  as  lightning:  the  picture  is  enough  to  make 
one's  blood  run  cold,  is  it  not  ?  We  soon  arrived  at  the  basin, 
which,  as  I  said,  is  about  1500  feet  below  the  earth,  and  had 
leisure  to  look  about  us.  Such  a  basin  or  receiver  (of  which 
there  are  thirty-two  in  the  mines)  is  a  part  of  a  shaft  or  gang- 
way enlarged  on  all  sides  into  an  artificial  cavern  of  perhaps 
a  hundred  yards  in  diameter,  and  some  ten  or  twelve  feet  in 
height. 

Fresh  water  is  conducted  by  wooden  pipes  into  the  cavern 
till  it  is  nearly  half  full.  The  salt  of  which  the  inside  of  the 
mountain  is  almost  entirely  composed  is  then  dissolved  and 
mixed  with  water,  which,  after  becoming  sufficiently  impreg- 
nated, is  conducted  out  of  the  mines  into  the  valley,  where  it 
is  boiled,  etc.  While  the  water  remains  standing,  which  of 
course  it  is  suffered  to  do  for  a  considerable  time,  the  whole 
cavern  appears  or  is  in  fact  a  gloomy  subterraneous  lake.  The> 
miners  employed  there  row  about  it  in  little  canoes ;  the  whole 
appearance  is  most  surprising,  and  when  the  cavern  is  lighted 
up,  as  it  was  when  we  were  there,  and  the  little  lighted  boats 
flitting  across  in  all  directions  like  fire  spectres,  you  might 
believe  that  you  were  assisting  at  the  carnival  of  the  cobolds 
and  gnomes  and  all  sorts  of  sprites,  such  a  strange,  bewildering^ 
unholy  aspect  as  the  whole  scene  was.  We  emerged  through 
another  shaft,  and  after  resuming  our  earthly  habiliments,  we 
returned  to  our  caTeclie  and  our  journey. 

7  ^0  10  P.M. — Drive  through  the  narrow  pass  of  the  moun- 
tain towards  Werfen,  got  out  to  look  at  the  opening  of  the 
Eiver  Salzach,  where  the  stream  makes  its  way  apparently 
through  the  rock,  and  where  the  hills  are  jammed  so  closely 
together  that  nothing  but  a  river  could  get  through.  Drive 
continues  through  the  dark,  deep  valley  of  the  Salzach,  faint 
moonlight,  black  gloomy  mountains  with  glittering  snow- 
tops,  fire-flies,  cascades,  pine  forests,  an  attempt  at  a  thunder 
shower,  a  precipitous  road,  and  a  postilion  fast  asleep  the 
whole  way,  altogether  romantic  enough  to  have  enchanted  the 
whole  Fudge  family.    At  11  p.m.  reach  Werfen,  where  we  stop 


1834.J  BAD-GASTEIN — NASSFELD.  41 

for  tlio  night,  tired  enough,  having  been  on  the  road  since 
four  in  the  morning. 

June  lAth,  4  a.m. — Two  posts  to  little  town  of  Lend. 
Morning,  as  usual,  cold  and  foggy.  Summits  of  the  moun- 
tains covered  with  snow,  and  clouds  in  so  singular  a  mixture 
that  it  was  impossible  to  separate  the  one  from  the  other,  and 
it  looked  as  if  the  scene  were  all  sky  or  all  mountain.  Lend, 
a  cascade  and  a  fine  rainbow.  Detained  two  hours  by  a 
broken  bridge.  Drive  through  the  Klemme,  a  narrow  pass, 
much  resembling,  though  I  think  not  quite  so  magnificent  as, 
the  Scotch  and  White  Mountains.  Eoad  built  along  the  side 
of  the  mountain,  for  there  is  no  valley,  and  the  immense 
masses  of  rock  reach  from  the  region  of  clouds  and  ice  down 
into  the  bed  of  the  Eiver  Acha,  far  beneath  us  in  the  smooth, 
unbroken  perfect  precipice.  The  bridge  over  the  river,  with 
St.  Melchior  story  on  the  roadside. 

Continue  a  few  miles  to  Bad-Gastein,  a  wild  and  primitive- 
looking  village  with  a  mineral  spring  on  a  plain  nearly  4000 
feet  above  the  sea.  Mountains  all  round,  cascades  in  great 
number,  and  the  fine  fall  of  the  Acha  in  three  separate  leaps, 
all  foam  and  thunder. 

Walk  in  the  afternoon  to  Nassfeld,  a  little  valley  about  a 
thousand  feet  higher  than  Gastein,  three  waterfalls,  two  toler- 
able but  rather  commonplace  cascades,  but  the  third,  the 
Schleierfall,  very  beautiful  and  singular.  A  thin  narrow  un- 
broken snow  brook,  falling  from  the  tiptop  of  an  iced  mountain, 
with  the  bed  of  a  river  below,  and  so  blue  and  clear  and  trans- 
parent that  it  looks,  as  it  is  called,  like  a  veil  for  a  giantess, 
for  Queen  Cunegunde  or  for  the  Spirit  of  Solitude  who  is  at 
home  in  this  valley.  A  strange,  silent-looking  valley,  with 
snow  lying  unmelted  in  large  patches  in  the  middle  of  June, 
no  signs  of  life  excepting  a  few  goats,  all  shut  in  by  immense 
mountains,  and  looking  like  a  very  fortress  of  solitude.  Walk 
back  by  another  path  through  the  same  patriarchal,  Old 
Testament  kind  of  scenery,  to  Gastein. 

15th  Jtme. — I  suppose  that  no  transatlantic  travellers  ever 
happened  upon  this  little  place  before,  for  as  soon  as  we  had 
written  our  names  down  in  the  Travellers'  Book  as  Americans, 


42  MOTLEY'S  LETTEES.  [Chap.  III. 

a  most  prodigious  sensation  took  place  among  the  bath  com- 
pany. I  never  was  such  a  lion  in  my  life.  Everybody,  the 
ladies  and  all,  were  determined  to  make  our  acquaintance,  and 
a  jovial  old  Austrian  Field-Marshal  (whom  I  afterwards  found 
out  was  no  less  a  personage  than  the  Governor-General  of 
Bohemia)  patronised  us  particularly,  and  we  were  pressed  to 
stay  on  all  hands.  But  fearing  that  some  Sandwich  Island 
ladies  or  New  Zealanders  might  arrive  if  we  stayed  too  long, 
and  strip  us  entirely  of  our  lionsMp,  we  determined  to  vanish 
while  we  were  in  our  zenith,  and  such  exchanging  of  cards 
and  such  tender  farewells  among  acquaintances  of  twenty- 
four  hours  standing  I  never  saw  before.  I  expected  that  on 
our  departure  the  children  would  come  out  in  procession  and 
strew  flowers  in  our  path,  but  it  was  very  early  in  the  morning 
there  was  nobody  stirring,  so  we  went  off  quietly. 


Mt  deak  Paeents,- 


To  Ms  Parents. 

Eome, 
Novemher  24<7t,  1834. 


The  common  casts,  prints,  etc.,  had  given  me  no  better 
idea  of  the  Apollo  Belvedere  than  they  had  of  the  Venus  de 
Medici.  I  have  heard  of  persons  being  disappointed  in  both. 
This  term  "  disappointment "  is  a  cant  and  favourite  phrase 
which  I  don't  profess  to  understand.  If  a  person  expected  an 
elephant  and  found  an  Apollo,  I  can  conceive  of  his  being 
disappointed,  but  if  he  was  looking  for  a  divinity  when  he 
saw  the  Apollo,  and  was  then  "  disappointed,"  I  can  only  say 
that  the  fault  was  in  him.  The  whole  figure  of  the  Apollo  is 
slight  almost  to  spareness,  but  at  a  little  distance  the  nose  is 
a  thousand  times  more  scornful  than  I  expected,  and  the  whole 
face  has  almost  a  chilling  repulsiveness.  But  on  approaching 
nearer,  this  expression  melts  away,  all  the  anger  concentrates 
in  the  nostril,  and  the  eternal  beauty  of  the  face  and  figure 
dissolves  itself  and  floats  almost  like  a  drapery  around  the 


1834]  THE  APOLLO  BELVEDERE.  43 

whole  statue.  The  god,  the  divinity  speaks,  breathes,  moves 
in  every  line,  limb,  miiRcle.  Every  deity  of  the  ancient  temple 
has  lent  this  face  his  brightest  attributes.  The  forehead  of 
Jupiter,  when  it  was  pregnant  with  the  Goddess  of  Wisdom, 
the  eye  of  Juno,  the  lips  of  Venus,  and  the  hair  floating  on 
the  shoulders  and  bound  on  the  forehead  as  if  by  the  very 
fingers  of  the  Graces.  The  very  first  sight  of  the  statue 
transports  you  to  Delos.  The  Muses  in  their  hallowed  vales  rise 
around  you,  and  in  the  midst  of  them,  and  presiding  over 
them,  and  over  everything  which  makes  life  lovely,  stands 
the  god  of  eternal  youth,  and  light,  and  beauty  and  poetry 
in  his  full  divinity  before  you.  It  is  no  longer  a  piece  of 
chiselled  marble  which  enchains  your  eyes,  the  figure  expands 
into  life,  into  immortality  while  you  are  gazing — the  ground 
seems  to  sink  away  before  his  lofty  godlike  steps — you  see 
the  glittering  chariot  of  fire,  and  hear  the  snorting  steeds,  and 
you  start  lest  the  god  of  the  sun  shall  have  already  sprung 
into  his  car,  and  be  already  rolling  in  light  and  glory  and 
divinity  above  the  earth. 

There  is  on  the  whole  more  divinity,  more  of  the  godhead, 
in  the  Apollo  than  in  any  ancient  statue,  at  least  that  I  have 
seen.  One  may  have  more  loveliness  (as  for  instance  in 
Meleager)  and  another  more  nature,  but  the  Apollo  is  not 
flesh,  is  not  marble — ^there  is  nothing  earthly  about  him.  It 
is  a  being  to  whom  none  but  Ganymede  or  Hebe  have  ad- 
ministered. He  has  never  been  fed  but  with  nectar  and 
ambrosia ;  there  are  no  protruding  veins,  no  swelling  muscles 
— all  is  perfect,  godlike,  beautiful  repose.  He  is  the  embodi- 
ment of  the  ethereal  essence  which  is  the  being  of  gods,  and 
there  is  not  a  particle  of  materiality  about  his  whole  system. 
It  seems  impossible  that  labour  and  time  should  have  created 
such  a  statue.  It  seems  to  have  waked  into  existence  like  a 
single  thought,  a  single  impulse.  It  seems  the  sudden  and 
startling  realization  of  the  brightest  dream  which  the  genius 
of  its  artist  had  ever  conceived.  It  is  impossible  to  imagine 
that  it  could  have  been  produced  by  degrees,  that  the  sculptor 
could  have  seen  the  future  divinity  concealed  in  the  heart  of 
the  shapeless  marble,  that  he  could  have  watched  his  own 


44  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  IIL 

bright  original  thouglit  gradually  unfolding  itself  from  the 
bosom  of  the  stone,  breathing  upon  him  slowly  and  mysteri- 
ously like  the  birth  of  day  and  night,  and  bursting  at  last  from 
its  marble  chaos  in  full,  perfect,  immortal  loveliness  of  his  first 
burning  conception.  It  seems  impossible  ;  it  seems  to  be  the 
thought  itself  waked  into  immortal  existence  by  the  stroke  of 
a  wand,  so  ethereal,  so  immaterial,  so  godlike  is  the  statue. 

There,  I  have  prosed  so  long  about  this  same  Apollo,  this 
Dandy  of  the  Vatican,  that  I  have  left  myself  no  room  to 
speak  of  the  other  treasures  of  this  Museum.  As  I  may  as 
well  have  a  little  method  in  my  madness,  and  a  little  system 
in  my  letters,  I  will  discourse  in  my  next  of  St.  Peter's,  the 
Capitol,  and  some  of  the  endless  villas,  palaces,  and  churches 
stuffed  full  of  pictures  and  statues  which  occupy  our  mornings 
and  will  occupy  them  for  some  time  to  come. 

Very  affectionately  your  son, 

LoTHKOP  Motley. 


To  Ms  Parents. 

Naples," 
December  2Sth,  1834. 

My  dear  Paeents, — 

***** 

Two  miles  beyond  are  the  vast  remains  of  the  Emperor 
Hadrian's  famous  villa.  This  is  an  immense  heap  of  ruins, 
and  as  in  most  buildings  of  this  kind  (see  the  baths  of  Cara- 
calla,  Titus,  Diocletian,  etc.,  in  Eome)  little  remains  to 
testify  of  their  former  magnificence  but  their  extent. 

This  villa  is  supposed  to  have  been  seven  miles  in  circum- 
ference, and  contained  besides  the  Imperial  palace,  baths, 
temples,  theatres,  libraries,  barracks  of  the  Praetorian  Guard, 
and,  in  short,  everything  necessary  to  constitute  that  counter- 
part to  a  cockney's  paradise,  the  urbs  in  rure,  always  supposing 
the  latter  to  be  \the  much-coveted  rus  in  urhe. 

It  was  built  under  the  direction  of  Hadrian  on  his  return 
from  his  seven  years'  tour  in  the  East,  and  seems  to  have  been 
a  sort  of  embodied  epitome  of  his  voyage.     The  "  Canope  " 


\ 
\ 


1834.]  HADRIAN'S  VILLA.  45 

was  in  imitation  of  that  near  Alexandria ;  the  Lyceum, 
Poecile,  etc.,  were  copied  from  those  at  Athens,  and  the  vale 
of  Tempo  was  made  in  imitation  of  the  famous  happy  valley 
of  Thessaly. 

The  cicerone  conducts  you  round  to  several  different  por- 
tions of  ruins,  to  which  names,  but  in  general  most  arbitrary 
ones,  have  been  given,  and  the  giro  commenced  with  the 
"  Grecian  Theatre." 

Here  the  forms  of  the  Proscenium  and  the  seats  of  the 
spectators  are  still  distinctly  to  be  traced,  and  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood are  the  ruins  of  the  porticoes,  etc. 

The  next  is  the  Poecile,  in  imitation  of  that  of  Athens ; 
and  next  the  library.  Afterwards  an  immense  heap  of 
rubbish  with  one  entire  wall,  dignified  with  the  name  of  the 
Imperial  Palace  ;  next  the  barracks  of  the  Prastorian  Guard ; 
next  the  Canope,  near  it  the  remains  of  another  theatre,  other 
baths  at  the  entrance  to  the  vale  of  Tempo.  The  ruins  are 
generally  of  brick — sometimes  a  vault,  sometimes  a  portico, 
sometimes  a  wall  remains  entire,  but  it  is  generally  a  con- 
fused mass  of  rubbish,  from  which  the  most  interesting 
remains,  such  as  statues,  vases,  etc.,  have  been  extracted  and 
carried  to  Rome.  And  thus  is  repeated  for  the  thousandth 
time  the  often-told  and  dull  catalogue  raisonne  of  the  ruins  of 
Hadrian's  villa. 

If  you  will  allow  me  to  mount  my  hobby,  as  Tristram 
Shandy  would  say,  and  call  fancy  to  the  side  of  history,  the 
scene  will  be  different,  and  at  least  more  lively.  The 
shattered  columns  rise,  the  mouldering  walls,  the  fallen 
arches,  the  broken  statues,  the  faded  pictures,  and  all  the 
pomp,  pride,  and  circumstance  of  the  luxurious  abode  of  the 
most  glorious  Eoman  Emperor  start  again  to  life  and  grace 
and  beauty.  The  palaces,  the  temples,  the  theatres,  the  baths, 
the  halls  of  sports,  the  fields  of  military  exercise,  the  haunts 
of  the  poets  and  philosophers  revive  and  appear  as  they  were 
thousands  of  years  ago. 

The  scene  becomes  alive  and  animate,  and  is  repeopled 
with  the  dust  which  has  long  since  floated  and  vanished  on 
the  wind.    The  forms  and  voices. of  the  long-forgotten  dead 


46  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chat.  Ill 

rise  again  to  being,  and  the  halls  and  courts  of  the  stately- 
villa  swarm  with  their  shades,  and  in  the  gay  phantasmagoria 
of  a  dream,  and  ring  again  as  they  were  wont  to  the  mirth 
and  laughter  of  the  crowd.  Here  rises  the  proud,  command- 
ing form  of  the  imperial  Hadrian,  there  lounges  the  graceful 
Antinous,  from  the  neighbouring  courtyard  is  heard  the 
steady,  martial  tramp  of  the  Praetorians. 

In  yonder  theatre  rises  a  buzz  of  admiration  or  a  shout  of 
laughter  at  a  gay  comedy  of  Terence  or  Plautus. 

In  the  neighbouring  and  stately  library  are  seen  the 
dignified  forms  of  ^the  old  philosophers  and  poets,  they 
saunter  leisurely  through  the  lofty  alcoves  or  descend  through 
the  luxurious  mazes  of  the  gardens,  and  the  voices  of  wit  and 
wisdom  fall  again  upon  your  ear  as  they  join  in  sweet  com- 
munion together.  From^  yonder  Palaestro  the  roar  of  merri- 
ment rises  on  the  wind^  and  proclaims  the  assembly  engaged 
in  the  light-hearted  games  of  the  baths. 

A  serious  crowd  in  the  distance  are  bending  their  steps  to 
the  temples,  the  priests  in  the  splendid  array  of  their  office 
are  administering  the  rites  of  the  altar. 

Farther  off  a  careless  crowd  are  thronging  to  the  luxurious 
baths.  All  around  the  voices  of  command,  of  mirth,  of  admi- 
ration, of  discussion,  of  devotion,  float  through  the  air  and 
mingle  in  strange  variety  together. 

Everywhere  is  life,  cheerful,  busy,  bustling,  noisy,  impatient 
life.  Baths,  halls,  temples,  theatres  are  all  swarming  with 
human  figures,  and  resounding  with  human  voices.  The 
stately  fabrics  of  Imperial  grandeur  are  around  you,  the 
masterpieces  of  Eoman  and^foreign  genius  decorate  the  apart- 
ments ;  the  porticoes,  the  gardens,  all  look  as  if  for  eternity, 
strong,  stately,  durable,  magnificent. 

The  day  before  we  determined  to  leave  Eome  for  Naples  I 
had  taken  my  last  look  at  the  Apollo  and  Meleager  and  the 
rooms  of  Eaphael,  and  at  midnight  I  had  walked  to  the  ruins 
of  the  Palace  of  the  Caesars,  and  taken  from  thence  my  last 
look  at  the  Forum,  and  the  Curia,  and  the  temples,  and  the 
Coliseum ;  and  tl^e  next  day,  having  a  call  to  make  in  the 
vicinity  of  the  Capuchin  church,  I  paid  a  farewell  visit-  to 


1834.]  GUIDO'S  AURORA.  47 

Guide's  wonderful  archangel  (which  is  the  Apollo  of  canvas 
in  spite  of  all  gainsayers),  and  then,  as  it  was  not  far  off,  I 
thought  I  might  look  once  more  at  the  wonderful  Aurora. 

This  is  painted  in  fresco  on  the  ceiling  of  a  garden  house  in 
the  Palace  Rospigliosi.  The  ceiling  of  a  private  nobleman's 
garden  pavilion  adorned  with  one  of  the  most  immortal  pictures 
of  the  immortal  Guido  may  be  a  fair  offset  to  a  niche  in  the 
basement  story  of  an  emperor's  palace  filled  with  a  group  of  the 
Laocoon ;  but  search  through  the  world  out  of  Italy  and  you 
will  scarcely  find  in  all  the  palaces  and  pavilions  of  all  the 
emperors  and  noblemen  of  all  the  world  such  a  refinement  of 
luxury. 

The  design  of  this  painting  is  one  of  matchless  poetry,  and 
executed  by  the  hand  of  a  magician.  The  chariot  of  the  sun 
is  just  rolling  over  the  first  grey  cloud  of  morning,  preceded 
by  Aurora,  who  drops  flowers  and  dew  over  the  still-sleeping 
land  and  sea,  and  by  Light,  in  the  figure  of  a  boy,  whose  torch 
is  just  beginning  to  touch  the  cloud  with  the  brightness  of 
daylight ;  and  surrounded  by  the  train  of  Hours,  every  one  of 
whom  is  a  being  of  eternal  youth  and  grace  and  beauty.  The 
whole  is  wonderful — there  is  not  a  stroke  of  the  pencil  that 
does  not  breathe  of  morning  and  daylight ;  all  is  fresh,  brisk, 
and  startling,  in  the  step  of  Aurora,  and  the  individual  and 
different  beauty  of  each  figure  is  almost  incredible.  If  I 
should  find  a  fault  it  would  be  with  the  figure  of  Apollo,  who  is 
in  fact  no  Apollo,  and  furnishes  the  only  exception  to  the  vivid 
and  godlike  beauty  of  all  the  other  figures.  He  has,  in  fact, 
no  business  in  the  clouds,  being  a  most  earthly  figure — a  red- 
haired,  clownish-looking  bumpkin,  who  looks  as  if  taken  from 
an  ox  cart,  and  is  totally  unfit  to  drive  the  four-in-hand  of 
Phoebus,  whose  place  he  is  clumsily  usurping. 

Generation  after  generation  shall  throng  these  places,  and 
still  the  pile  shall  endure — the  delight  and  wonder  of  Eome 
and  of  the  world.  Alas!  throw  down  the  wand  of  imagina- 
tion and  look  around  you.  What  meets  your  eye  ?  Heaps 
of  confused  and  shapeless  ruins — a  dreary  and  desolate  mass  of 
decay  and  corruption,  overgrown  with  weeds  and  ivy,  and 
choked  with  rubbish.   The  theatres,  temples,  porticoes,  palaces. 


48  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  IIL 

lie  alike  in  one  mighty  and  indistinguishable  mass  of  ruin  and 
desolation;  and  not  a  voice  is  heard  through  the  vast  and 
dreary  silence  to  testify  the  existence  of  humanity. 

After  indulging  in  all  these  heroics,  which  you  will  perhaps 
think  excusable  when  one  is  "putting  his  foot  on  such  a 
reverend  history  "  as  this  villa  of  Hadrian,  we  continued  our 
route  up  the  hills,  and  through  a  forest  of  olives  to  Tivoli. 


To  his  Parents. 
'  Naples, 

April  30th,  1835. 

My  dear  Parents, — I  sent  off  a  very  short  letter  yesterday 
to  let  you  know  where  I  was  and  whither  I  was  going,  and 
intended  writing  you  a  very  long  one  to-day.  I  have,  how- 
ever, already  taken  my  passage  in  the  steamboat  from  this  to 
Genoa,  whence  I  shall  go  directly  to  Paris,  and  I  shall  accord- 
ingly hardly  have  time  to  give  you  the  whole  of  my  tour  in 
Sicily ;  for  I  find,  on  looking  at  my  notes  about  it,  that  it  is 
the  most  voluminous  one  I  have  made.  Besides,  as  I  shall  see 
you  all  in  a  few  months,  I  may  as  well  leave  something  to  be 
told  viva  voce.  We  came  down,  as  I  believe  I  have  told  you 
in  a  former  letter,  through  Calabria  to  Eeggio,  and  so  crossed 
over  to  Messina.  From  Messina  we  went  down  along  the 
eastern  coast  of  Sicily  to  Catania  ;  from  Catania  we  ascended 
Etna ;  afterwards  came  to  Syracuse ;  from  Syracuse  to 
Girgenti,  the  site  of  the  ancient  Agrigentum ;  and  from 
Girgenti  we  crossed  in  a  small  vessel  to  Malta.  From  Malta, 
as  I  have  already  told  you,  I  returned  in  a  brig  to  Naples. 

2M  March. — Left  Messina  for  Catania  in  a  carriage,  for  this 
distance,  about  120  miles,  is  the  only  part  of  Sicily  where  one 
can  travel  in  any  way  but  on  mules.  The  two  days  we  were 
coming,  the  weather  squally,  rainy,  wretched,  and  the  road, 
which  should  have  presented  different  and  constant  views  of 
Mount  Etna,  presented  nothing.  But  the  island  is  so  beyond 
all  description  lovely — such  a  wild,   fabulous,   overflowing 


1S35.]  SICILY  AND  ITS  ASSOCIATIONS.  49 

vegetation ;  such  millions  of  flowers  and  fruits ;  lemon  trees 
and  oranges  springing  again  into  blossom,  while  the  boughs 
are  still  golden  with  fruit;  grain  bursting  ripe  and  ready 
bearded  from  the  ground,  for  all  the  fields  are  at  this  moment 
in  full  ear,  the  banks  all  gaudy  with  anemones,  marigolds, 
daisies,  yiolets,  and  a  thousand  garden  flowers,  springing 
wildly  and  spontaneously  into  existence  at  the  first  breath  of 
spring. 

And  then,  as  one  draws  near  Catania  and  the  base  of  Etna, 
such  wild,  wonderful  contrasts — a  boundless  ocean  of  lava, 
black,  dismal,  awful;  and  yet,  such  is  the  eternal  and  ever- 
vivid  quality  of  the  atmosphere,  that  the  gaudiest  flowers  and 
the  most  luxuriant  vegetation,  springing  in  the  very  bosom  of 
the  lava  before  it  is  hardly  cold — all  this  together  makes  a 
drive  in  Sicily,  although  not  under  the  most  favourable  sky,  a 
thing  to  be  remembered. 

Half-way  between  Messina  and  Catania  is  Taormina,  the 
ancient  Taurominium,  and  here  are  the  beautiful  ruins  of  an 
ancient  theatre ;  and  the  second  day  we  passed  the  pretty  and 
finical  town  of  Aci,  which  is  immortally  associated  with  one 
or  two  exquisite  fables  of  the  Greeks.  The  river  which  runs 
by  the  town  is  the  Acis,  the  liquid  lover  of  Galatea,  for  it  was 
here  that  the  jealous  Titan  crushed  the  unfortunate  shepherd 
as  he  sat  by  his  beloved  sea-nymph,  and  the  river  into  which 
he  was  changed  by  his  mistress  still  rushes  impetuously  to 
the  ocean,  as  if  to  seek  and  console  the  sorrowing  sea-nymph. 
Two  or  three  miles  from  the  town  brought  us  to  the  beach,  to 
look  for  seven  small  islands  or  rocks  close  to  the  shore,  and 
which  are  said  to  be  the  rocks  of  the  Cyclops — the  rocks  which 
the  same  ill-tempered  Polyphemus  threw  down  upon  Ulysses 
and  his  companions.  According  to  acourate  people,  they  were 
thrown  into  the  sea  by  Etna  and  not  by  the  Titans ;  but  the 
long  point  of  Cape  Mollini  on  the  left,  the  seven  mysterious 
rocks  on  the  right,  the  sea  black  and  angry  in  front,  and  Etna, 
which  ought  to  have  been  smoking,  behind,  made  up  together 
a  very  epical  picture,  and  so  I  resisted  the  volcanic  theory, 
and  in  the  midst  of  the  scene  I  recollected  the  adventures 
which  occurred  on  the  spot  to  iEneas.    I  saw  the  ancient 

VOL.  I.  E 


50  MOTLEY'S  LETTEKS.  [Chap.  III. 

Anchises  grasp  the  hand  of  the  unfortunate  and  defeated 
Achajmenides.  I  listened  with  him  to  his  tale  of  distress,  and 
was  startled  in  the  midst  by  the  appearance  of  the  truculent 
Titan.  I  saw  the  grim,  ungainly  form  of  Polyphemus  striding 
from  his  cave,  and  beheld  ^neas  and  his  companions  scamper- 
ing into  the  boats  to  escape  him,  and  I  heard  the  disappointed 
roar  of  the  infuriated  giant,  which  shook  the  sea  and  the  earth, 
and  even  Etna  itself,  to  the  centre— but  I  will  spare  you  the 
rest  of  the  description. 

I  see  that  although  I  have  carefully  left  out  the  description 
of  the  two  days'  journey  to  Catania,  I  am  already  loitering  on 
the  way,  but  I  have  no  time  to  spare,  for  we  have  got  Etna  to 
ascend,  countless  ruins  to  explore,  and  a  shipwreck  to  outlive, 
beforer  we  get  to  Malta.  And  so  let  us  hasten  at  once  to 
Catania.  Catania  is  just  at  the  base  of  Etna,  and  is  the  most 
volcanic  town  possible,  literally  built  on  its  own  ruins,  whole 
foundation  in  land  made  from  water  by  fire.  The  sea  formerly 
reached  beyond  the  Porte  di  Ulysse,  now  considerably  beyond 
the  city  on  the  outside,  for  the  ocean  has  been  filled  with  lava, 
and  on  that  stands  the  town.  The  harbour  is  the  most  sin- 
gular spectacle  in  the  world,  high  rocks  and  cliffs,  in  as  wild 
and  fantastic  shapes  as  those  of  Nahant,  but  all  lava,  which  in 
1669  swept  from  the  top  of  Etna,  over  and  nearly  destroying 
the  town,  and  ran  far  into  the  sea,  thus  forming  a  breakwater, 
and  thus  a  safe  harbour  which  subsequent  eruptions  destroyed. 
Catania's  history  is  all  earthquake — leaving  ancient  history 
out  of  the  question — and  beginning  with  comparatively  modern 
times.  In  1160  every  house  and  every  inhabitant  was  de- 
stroyed ;  in  1348  it  was  devastated  by  the  plague ;  in  1669 
the  lava  overwhelmed  and  destroyed  it;  in  1693  it  was  again 
destroyed  by  an  earthquake,  and  still,  at  this  moment,  it  is  a 
gay,  flourishing  and,  for  Sicily  or  Italy,  a  neat  and  thriving 
town;  and  even  now  its  light-hearted  inhabitants  live  and 
laugh  and  dance  and  sing  with  an  abyss  of  fire  yawning 
beneath  them,  Etna  thundering  over  their  heads,  and  in 
danger  every  moment  to  see  striding  back  upon  them  the 
aiicient  awful  chaos.  There  are  no  human  battle-fields  here — 
no  places  celebrated  by  tl\§  wars  of  the  Greeks  or  the  Eomans 


1835.]  ETNA.  61 

— the  Komans  or  the  Hohenstaufen,  as  are  to  be  seen  in  most 
parts  of  Sicily  and  Italy,  but  other  and  far  more  imposing 
battle-fields.  Two  great  elements  have  been  on  this  spot  con- 
tinually at  war — fire  and  ocean.  The  plains  and  places  of 
this  terrible  encounter  are  distinctly,  awfully  visible,  and  of 
the  wrecks  and  ruins  which  have  attended  them,  the  least  are 
man's ;  and  even  now,  when  one  sits  on  the  rocks  of  fire  and 
hears  the  sea  foaming  and  howling  around  them,  old  Ocean 
seems  to  be  sounding  his  defiance  to  the  god  of  fire  and  daring 
him  to  another  conflict. 

March  2^th. — Start  from  Catania  at  11  a.m.  to  Mount  Etna. 
My  most  exquisite  reason  for  joining  in  the  party  I  should  be 
puzzled  to  say,  probably  because  Abbate's  and  my  own  opinion 
were  decidedly  against  it.  Mules  from  Niccolosi,  twelve 
miles,  through  the  first  region,  or  Keggio  Coltivato,  of  the 
mountain.  The  greatest  peculiarity  in  the  appearance  ot 
Etna,  and  one  which  renders  him  the  most  striking  mountain 
I  have  ever  seen,  not  excepting  even  Mont  Blanc,  is  his 
single  and  solitary  situation.  Other  high  mountains  are 
usually  the  highest  of  a  chain  of  mountains,  and  generally 
the  vicinity  of  a  multitude  of  hills  detracts  from  the  efiect  of 
the  highest  peak.  But  Etna  rises  all  alone  from  a  dead  plain ; 
suddenly  and  singly  with  one  stride  he  is  in  heaven,  and 
there  he  stands  and  stood  to-day,  with  the  sunshine  wasting 
itself  on  his  icy  forehead — all  alone — the  whole  sky  and  the 
whole  earth  to  himself,  and  looking  like  the  god  and  ruling 
spirit  of  the  island.  The  three  regions  into  which  naturalists 
divide  the  mountain  are  the  Reggio  Primo  or  Fecondo,  Eeggio 
Secundo  or  Selvoso,  Reggio  Terzo  or  Nevoso — the  fruitful,  the 
woody,  the  snowy,  and  desolate.  •  They  are  in  fact  paradise, 
purgatory,  and  hell.  Nothing  can  surpass  the  overflowing 
wonderful  fertility  of  the  first,  the  mystic  gloom  of  the  second, 
nor  the  wholly  infernal,  hideous,  sulphureous  sights  and  smells 
of  the  last.  Gradual  ascent  towards  Niccolosi.  Soil  of  the 
side  of  the  mountain  all  ancient  lava,  which  in  the  course  of 
centuries  becomes  the  richest  mould,  and  is  covered  with 
a  prurient  and  fabulous  vegetation.  Thus  here  nature  is 
cradled  in  fire  and  nursed  by  earthquakes,  and  a  new  Sicily 

E  2 


52  MOTLEY'S  LETTEES.  [Chap.  III. 

seems  constantly  springing  from  the  ashes  of  the  old  one,  for 
the  hackneyed  phoenix  is  no  trope  here,  but  reality.  Wide 
base  of  Etna,  which  is  nearly  one  hundred  miles  round. 

Life  and  laughing  with  plenty — cornfields,  vineyards,  flower- 
gardens,  fields  of  flax  in  flower,  Indian  figs,  mulberries,  lemons, 
oranges,  golden  with  fruit  and  fragrant  with  flower ;  in  fact, 
wherever  one  looks  one  sees  Ceres,  who  was  anciently,  with 
justice,  the  presiding  deity  of  the  island,  sitting  in  beneficent 
majesty  with  the  boy  Bacchus  laughing  in  her  lap.  At 
Niccolosi  finishes  the  first  region ;  here  are  the  Monti  Kossi, 
two  tolerable  hills  thrown  up  in  the  tremendous  eruption 
of  1669,  and  the  course  of  the  lava  down  the  side  of  the 
mountain  to  the  sea  is  still  darkly  and  awfully  distinct. 
This  side  is  girt  round  with  a  line  of  hocce  or  craters,  and 
the  whole  scene  is  black  with  lava  and  ashes.  The  previous 
sight  of  Vesuvius  had  not  enabled  me  to  conceive  of  such  a 
scene  of  horrible  and  unearthly  desolation  as  I  saw  here. 
The  black  broad  line  of  lava  looks  like  the  wake  of  a  ship  of 
fire.  It  seems  as  if  the  ancient  Chaos  had  strode  from  Etna 
to  the  sea  and  left  the  trace  of  his  footsteps  and  desolation 
behind  him. 

At  Niccolosi,  which  is  a  little  village  about  a  sixth  of  .the 
way  up  Etna,  we  dismounted  and  ate  a  dinner  brought  with 
us  from  Catania.  A  certain  Dr.  Gemmalaro,  a  fat  old  professor 
and  a  kind  of  second  Empedocles,  lives  up  in  the  clouds  here, 
apparently  to  study  the  mountain  and  make  notes  thereof. 
This  seeming  to  be  his  only  occupation,  Abbate,  our  landlord 
at  Catania,  had  advised  us  to  hold  converse  with  the  learned 
Theban,  and  we  did,  but  to  no  purpose  except  that  he  sent  us 
our  guides.  At  8  p.m.  mount  mules  again,  for,  as  if  the  difii- 
culty  of  ascending  the  mountain  at  this  season  of  the  year 
were  not  great  enough,  we  must  needs  increase  them  by  going 
up  in  the  night,  in  order  to  enjoy  the  cool  breezes  of  March  at 
midnight  among  the  snows  of  Etna.  From  Niccolosi  to  the 
Casa  della  Neve  is  about  ten  miles,  the  second  stage  of  the 
journey,  and  comprehends  the  second  or  woody  region.  Night 
pitch  dark  but  starry — guides  with  lanterns.  In  an  hour 
commence  patches  of  snow,  increasing,  and  night  cold.    Arrive 


1835.]  ASCENT  OP  ETNA.  53 

at  Casa  della  Neve  at  half-past  eleven,  expecting  to  find  a 
tolerably  comfortable  hut  with  a  dry  floor  and  perhaps  the 
Sybaritish  luxury  of  a  chair  and  table ;  have  the  inexpressible 
satisfaction  to  find  the  house  of  snow  well  deserving  its  name — 
a  stone  hut,  minus  its  roof,  and  filled  with  snow  about  two  feet 
deep.  Make  a  fire  of  branches  before  it,  and  cower  shivering 
over  it  in  a  most  melancholy  state,  listening  to  the  wind 
soughing  through  the  trees  and  howling  hideously  on  the  still 
distant  and  icy  top  of  the  mountain. 

After  indulging  for  half-an-hour  in  pleasing  anticipations 
of  our  night's  walk,  leave  the  paradisaical  house  of  snow  at 
about  midnight  to  perform  the  third  and  principal  stage  of 
the  journey.  At  midsummer  the  ascent  from  the  Casa  della 
Neve  to  the  Casa  degli  Inglesi  at  the  foot  of  the  cone 
is  practicable  to  mules,  the  distance  nine  miles,  and  then 
there  remains  only  the  ascent  of  the  cone,  which  is,  how- 
ever, for  a  mile  nearly  perpendicular,  to  be  made  on  foot, 
consequently  in  warm  weather  and^by  daylight  it  is  an  easy — 
comparatively  easy — affair.  At  present  from  the  Casa  della 
Neve  to  the  top  is  all  deep,  hard-frozen  snow.  The  guides 
had  told  us  we  must  leave  the  mules  here  and  make  the 
whole  ten  miles'  ascent  on  foot.  Attempt  riding  a  little 
farther  through  the  thrilling  regions  of  thick-ribbed  ice. 
Mule  and  I  flounder  about  a  few  hundred  yards  through  the 
snow,  until  at  last  he  tumbles  fairly  over,  and  we  roll  together 
most  amicably  head  over  heels  some  dozen  yards  down  the 
snow  bank,  till  we  are  stopped  by  a  thicket  of  ilexes.  Get  up 
and  shake  myself,  and  finding  myself  unharmed,  saving  a  few 
bruises,  proceed,  with  the  help  of  the  guides,  to  assist  the 
amiable  companion  of  my  misfortunes  to  his  legs  again. 
Finding  that  the  girths  and  bridle  are  broken  all  to  pieces, 
and  experience  showing  that  the  slippery  side  of  an  iced 
volcano  is  not  the  best  place  to  show  off  one's  horse-  or 
rather  mule-manship,  determined  to  accede  to  the  prayers  of 
the  guide,  and  all  leave  the  mules  and  commence  the  ascent 
on  foot. 

The  ascent  to  the  Casa  Inglese  lasted  from  a  little  after 
midnight  to  5  a.m.     Cold  gradually  increased,  the  ascent 


54  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  nL 

excessively  steep,    the   ice   intolerably   slippery,   the   wind 
piercing.    The  remainder  of  the  journey  and  the  ascent  of  the 
cone,  which  must  be  always  performed  on  foot,  is  difficult. 
Difficult  on  a  warm  summer's  day,  and  after  dismounting,  fresh, 
comfortably  warm   and  untired  from  our   mule's  back,   and 
taking  repose  and  refreshment  in  the  Casa  Inglese  before  com- 
mencing the  ascent, — eeco  la  differenza!     On  a  cold  piercing 
night  in  March,  in  the  coldest  part  of  the  twenty-four  hours, 
viz.,  an  hour  before  dawn,  arriving  at  the  base  of  the  cone, 
fagged,  half-frozen,  and  worn  out  from  a  nine  miles'  and  five 
hours'  walk  up  the  steep,  slippery  ice  of  the  mountain,  through 
the  whole  night,  too,  instead  of  dismounting  from  an  agreeable 
ride,  finding  the  Casa  Inglese  buried  deep  in  snow,  and  with 
nothing  for  it  but  to  commence  the  last  and  closing  scene  of 
the  momentous  history  without  resting,  with  the  addition  to 
our  misfortunes  that  the  guides  had  neglected  to  take  up 
water  or  even  an  orange,  so  that  there  was  nothing  to  slake 
our  constant  thirst  but  the  ice  which  we  had  been  so  much 
warned   against  that  it   seemed  like  swallowing  poison  to 
attempt  it.     On  my  arriving  at  the  Casa  degli  Inglesi,  one  of 
the  party  was  a  little  ahead,  and  the  other  was  half-an-hour 
behind.     My  guide  was  an  old  man,  quite  unequal  to  his 
office,  and  being  very  much  fatigued  himself,  advised  me  to 
stay  and  see  the  sun  rise  from  thence  instead  of  from  the 
summit,  adding  coolly  that  any  farther  ascent  was  quite  im- 
possible.   Spur  him  on,  and,  both  nearly  exhausted,  commence 
crawling  up  through  the  ice  and  knee-deep  ashes  which  form 
the  almost  perpendicular  and  almost  mile-long  ascent  of  the 
cone.     Both  drop  with  fatigue  every  dozen  yards,  till  at  last 
the  guide  fairly  tumbles  over  ip  the  ashes  and  refuses  to  budge 
another  step.     Leave  him  to  his  fate  and  scramble  and  creep 
through  clouds  of  hideously  smelling  sulphur  to  the  top ;  see 
the  sun  rise  just  as  I  reach  the  top  of  the  ridge,  and  such 
a  lame  and  impotent  conclusion  to  the  night's  labour  was 
intolerable. 

The  night  had  been  clear  and  bright,  but  towards  morning 
mists  had  begun  to  collect  in  the  south,  and  at  last  the  sun 
rose  red  and  lurid,  above  the   sea,  and  after  glaring  a  few 


r 


1835.]  THE  VIEW  FROM  ETNA.  55 

seconds  like  a  culprit  from  a  barred  prison  window  through 
the  long  dun  vapoury  mists  which  stretched  all  across  the 
horizon,  hid  himself  from  the  day  in  a  dark  heavy  mass  of 
clouds,  which  almost  filled  the  whole  heaven.  I  was  in  no 
favour  with  Apollo  certainly,  and  looking  down  towards  the 
islands,  which  was  the  only  part  of  the  vaunted  prospect 
not  quite  obscured  by  the  vapours,  I  found  that  the  king  of 
the  winds  was  not  in  a  bit  better  humour  ;  he  seemed  to  have 
unchained  every  one  of  his  tempests,  and  they  came  sweeping 
coldly  and  dismally  across  the  top  of  the  mountain,  and  had 
nearly  blown  me  into  the  sea.  Struggle  against  them  a  little 
while,  and  look  about  me.  The  objects  to  be  gained  by  our 
ascent  were — first,  to  see  the  sun  rise ;  second,  to  see  the  cele- 
brated pyramidal  shadow  of  the  cone  formed  on  the  southern 
side  of  the  island ;  third,  the  extensive  view  of  the  island ; 
fourth,  a  sight  of  the  crater.  Of  these  only  the  last  were 
attained.  The  sunrise  was  anything  but  brilliant,  the  clouds 
prevented  the  phenomenon  of  the  shadow,  and  the  darkness 
and  mistiness  of  the  atmosphere  towards  the  south  obscured  a 
great  part  of  the  view.  In  fact,  the  Lipari  Islands,  the  ex- 
tremity of  Calabria,  and  the  coast  of  Messina  were  almost  all 
that  could  be  seen.  All  that  I  got  was  a  look  at  the  crater ; 
but  that  was,  after  all,  worth  all  the  trouble.  Such  a  hideous, 
horrible,  infernal  sight  I  had  never  conceived  of.  The  yawn- 
ing and  almost  fathomless  gulf,  its  sides  formed  of  precipitous 
clifis  of  ancient  ice  and  brimstone  and  lava  and  ashes,  the 
dull  heavy  sulphurous  vapours  rising  along  the  sides  and  suf- 
focating all  who  attempt  to  inhale  the  atmosphere,  and  seeming 
like  the  breath  of  the  rebel  giant  who  lies  chained  and  howl- 
ing and  writhing  in  agony  beneath  the  mountain,  altogether 
gave  me  an  idea  of  the  Inferno  which  I  could  never  have 
conceived  of :  the  fumes  of  Vulcan's  workshop,  the  breath  of 
the  demons  who  infest  the  mountain,  the  cradle  of  Chaos, 
nothing  is  too  vile,  hideous,  and  ghastly  to  be  associated 
with  the  place. 

Forgot  to  mention  what  was  one  of  the  most  striking 
circumstances  of  the  whole  expedition.  At  about  two  hours 
after  midnight,  when  we  had  gotten  about  a  third  of  the  way 


56  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  IIL 

up,  and  were  toiling  through  the  snow  half  tired  and  half 
frozen,  we  descried  what  seemed  a  black  ridge  of  lava  above 
the  snow,  and  promised  a  deal  of  satisfaction  in  resting  there. 
It  seemed  about  five  minutes'  walk.  We  hastened  towards  it. 
Five  minutes  passed,  and  it  seemed  still  five  minutes ;  another 
five  minutes,  still  the  same.  Another  half-hour,  another  hour, 
still  it  receded  before  us,  and  I  got  nervous.  It  was  as  if 
some  of  the  demons  with  which  the  caves  of  Mount  Etna  are 
peopled  were  mopping  and  mowing  at  us  from  that  black 
and  ghastly  mass  of  lava,  as  it  still  fled  in  silent  mockery 
before  us.  At  last  morning  broke,  and  lo !  the  ledge  of  rocks 
where  we  were  to  have  reposed  ourselves  when  about  a  third 
of  the  way  up  the  mountain  now  hung  still  high  above  us, 
and  was — the  summit,  the  black,  awful  summit  itself  of 
Mount  Etna.  After  five  minutes  spent  in  gaping  and 
gasping  at  the  crater  and  endeavouring  to  make  something  of 
the  view,  return  to  the  base  of  the  cone,  seat  ourselves  and 
warm  ourselves  by  the  sulphurous  and  stinking  fumes  of  a 
bocca,  and  thaw  some  of  our  hard-frozen  food  in  the  steam,  and 
in  that  moment  I  think  I  never  saw  six  more  unearthly  and 
devilish-looking  individuals  than  we  three,  with  the  three 
guides,  as  haggard  with  the  want  of  sleep  and  the  night's 
fatigue,  half  famished  and  half  frozen,  we  hung  over  the 
deep,  sulphurous  fumes  of  that  infernal  hoeca,  gnawing  our 
frozen  victuals.  Descend  from  the  Casa  Inglese  to  Casa  della 
Neve  in  about  two  hours,  which  in  ascending  occupied  five, 
fold  cloak  under  me  like  a  sledge,  and  slide  down  comfortably 
and  quickly.  Keach  Casa  della  Neve  at  eight,  devour  a  cold 
chicken  and  a  bottle  of  wine,  and  resume  the  mules.  Jog 
down  to  Niccolosi,  falling  asleep  on  the  mule  two  or  three 
times,  and  reach  Niccolosi  at  half-past  eleven.  Eest  until 
3.30,  and  then  proceed  through  the  paradisaical  region  to 
Catania  again.  As  we  approach  the  base,  weather  fine  again. 
Sunday,  and  the  peasants  in  holiday  suits,  air  full  of  perfume 
and  earth  full  of  flowers,  butterflies  swarming,  bees  humming, 
lizards  creeping,  etc.,  etc.  Keach  at  last  Catania  and  the 
most  excellent  Albergo  della  Corona,  and  rejoice  in  a  good 
dinner  and  a  good  bed.     The  latter,  you  may  be  sure,  was 


18:}5.:)  A  PERILOUS  VOYAGE.  57 

acceptable  after  having  ridden  on  mules  fifty  miles  and 
walked  twenty  without  sleeping. 

On  the  9th  of  April,  having  been  the  day  before  rolled 
and  half  drowned,  mules  and  all,  in  a  river,  we  arrived  at 
Girgenti.  After  having  admired  the  beautiful  temples  here 
for  two  or  three  days,  we  joined  a  party  of  English,  who 
had  hired  a  small  vessel  to  take  them  across  to  Malta.  The 
distance  is  about  one  hundred  miles,  and  we  hoped  to  get  there 
in  about  twenty-four  hours.  The  vessel  was  not  quite  thirty 
tons  burthen,  and  besides  ten  passengers  and  seven  sailors, 
had  been  loaded  with  brimstone,  contrary  to  our  express  con- 
tract. We  got  on  well  enough  the  first  night.  We  set  sail 
at  nine  in  the  evening,  but  as  there  was  nothing  like  a  cabin, 
and  the  hold  Would  only  contain  two  or  three  at  a  time,  the 
night,  which  was  an  excessively  cold  one,  was  anything  but 
pleasant.  Towards  morning,  however,  the  wind,  which  had  been 
pretty  strong  all  night,  increased  to  a  hurricane.  One  of  our 
sails,  not  taken  in  in  time,  was  blown  to  pieces,  and  the  others 
being  furled,  we  drifted  under  bare  poles  quite  at  the  mercy 
of  the  wind.  The  sea  rose  to  a  height  which  I  think  I  never 
saw  in  the  Atlantic,  and  our  vessel,  which  in  calm  weather  was 
hardly  a  foot  above  water,  was  now  washed  over  by  every  wave. 
She  was  heavily  laden,  and  laboured  excessively,  and  strained 
to  every  wave  almost  to  cracking.  We  were  drenched  through 
by  every  wave  and  expecting  every  moment  to  be  swamped 
The  captain  lay  in  a  corner,  crying  like  a  child,  and  calling  on 
St.  Joseph ;  the  crew  were  praying  to  the  Madonna ;  and  at 
last  all  the  passengers,  at  the  request  of  the  captain,  by  a 
sudden  impulse  commenced  discharging  the  cargo  in  a  very 
summary  manner. 

After,  having  thus  presented  Mr.  Graset's  brimstone  to  the 
fishes,  the  vessel  rode  lighter,  and  the  wind  lulling  a  little, 
we  became  encouraged.  The  captain  and  crew  resumed  com- 
mand of  the  vessel.  And  we  all  lay  drenched,  shivering, 
and  miserable  on  the  deck.  At  last  we  made  land,  and  then 
commenced  a  violent  dispute  among  the  sailors  whether  it 
was  Sicily  or  Malta.  Conceive  of  these  sages,  men  who  have 
spent  their   whole  lives   in  navigating   between   these  two 


58  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  III. 

islands,  and  not  able  to  distinguish  one  coast  from  the  other ! 
At  last  the  wind,  which  luckily  was  in  our  favour,  blew  us 
about  twenty  past  twelve  of  the  second  night  into  Malta ; 
and  there  we  had  the  inexpressible  satisfaction  of  waiting  close 
to  shore  in  our  wet  boat  till  morning,  no  vessel  being  allowed 
to  discharge  its  passengers  after  sundown.  When  the  sun  at 
last  rose  I  think  it  never  shone  on  a  dozen  more  forlorn  and 
wretched-looking  individuals.  Sick,  pale,  haggard  faces,  be- 
grimed with  brimstone,  clothes  torn  and  drenched  and  water- 
logged, we  looked  altogether  more  like  a  deputation  of  the 
devils  of '  Der  Freischiitz '  than  like  human  creatures.  At  last 
we  were  let  out,  and  the  first  thing  I  did  on  reaching  the  hotel 
at  eight  in  the  morning  was  to  jump  into  bed  and  sleep  until 
nine  the  next  morning. 

My  letter  of  the  15th  of  April  has  informed  you  of  my  dis- 
appointment at  Malta,  and  you  may  believe  that  the  eight  or 
nine  days  which  I  was  allowed  to  spend  there  waiting  for  a 
vessel  to  the  Continent,  instead  of  going  with  my  companions 
with  the  steamer  to  Greece,  where  I  should  have  been  the 
third  day  after  leaving  Malta,  were  anything  but  pleasant. 
The  English  fleet  was  there,  and  as  I  had  acquaintances  in 
some  of  the  officers,  I  went  on  board  most  of  the  vessels.  My 
voyage  from  Malta  to  Naples  hardly  contained  much  of  interest. 
The  first  five  days  were  my  usual  luck,  constant  head  winds ; 
so  that  on  the  close  of  the  fifth  day  we  were  not  fifty  miles 
from  Malta.  At  last,  however,  we  got  a  fair  wind,  and  came 
through  the  Straits  of  Messina  and  past  the  Lipari  Islands  and 
made  the  coast  of  Naples  the  sixth  morning,  thus  having  seen 
Etna,  Stromboli,  and  Vesuvius,  the  three  celebrated  volcanoes 
of  the  world,  in  one  and  the  same  day.  On  arriving  I  find  to 
my  great  disappointment  that  I  have  lost  a  great  eruption  of 
Vesuvius  which  has  taken  place  since  I  have  been  gone,  and 
this  is  almost  as  mortifying  as  my  other  disappointment.  I 
have  taken  my  passage  to  Genoa  in  the  steamer  which  sails 
day  after  to-morrow.  I  should  have  taken  it  as  far  as  Marseilles, 
but  the  cholera  at  that  place  and  the  consequent  quarantine 
at  Naples  prevent  the  boats  from  runniug  thither.  I  shall 
probably  consequently  go  by  land  from  Genoa  to  Marseilles, 


1835.]  SALISBURY  CATHEDRAL.  59 

and  from  thence  to  Paris.  At  Paris  I  shall  wait  until  I  hear 
from  you  in  reply  to  my  last  letter ;  you  will  think  me  to 
blame,  but  I  cannot  feel  that  I  have  anything  to  reproach 
myself  with  the  miscalculating  the  expense  of  my  journey,  and 
having  been  almost  in  sight  of  Athens  without  going  there  is 
a  disappointment  which  cannot  be  forgotten. 

I  remain  your  most  affectionate  son, 

J.  L.  Motley. 


To  his  Mother. 

Dublin, 
July  27tli,  1835. 

My  dear  Mother, — The  last  time  I  wrote  I  was,  I  think, 
on  the  point  of  leaving  London  for  a  tour  in  England,  Scot- 
land, and  Ireland.  This  is  the  first  time  we  have  been 
stationary  in  any  place  for  as  much  as  twelve  hours,  and,  con- 
sequently, the  first  time  I  have  had  any  chance  of  writing. 
As  it  is,  I  am  afraid  I  shall  send  you  but  a  short  letter ;  we 
stay  here  only  till  to-morrow  (having  arrived  yesterday),  and 
during  this  time  we  wish  of  course  to  see  as  much  of  the  town 
as  possible.  We  cannot  of  course  help  returning  to  Dublin 
on  our  way  back  to  England,  and  shall  stop  here  another  day 
or  two  to  see  what  we  leave  unseen  now.  The  day  I  left 
London  I  reached  Salisbury,  after  a  drive  in  a  stage-coach  of 
five  or  six  hours.  Here,  as  I  daresay  you  know,  is  one  of  the 
finest  cathedrals  in  England,  and  decidedly  the  finest  speci- 
men I  have  yet  seen,  not  only  of  what  is  called  in  architectural 
technology  the  Early  English,  but  generally  of  English  archi- 
tecture. The  evening  I  arrived  I  strolled  out  with  my 
pocket  stuffed  full  of  cigars  to  see  the  lions  of  Salisbury  (or 
rather  the  lion,  for  the  cathedral  is  the  only  thing  of  interest). 
This  was  the  first  specimen  of  English  Gothic  I  was  to  see, 
and  as  I  walked  thither  my  head  was  full  of  the  Continental 
Gothic,  which  was  as  yet  all  I  knew.  I  thought  of  the  Cathe- 
drals of  Cologne,  of  Vienna,  of  Eouen,  of  strange,  unfinished, 
unfinishable  buildings,  built  according  to  no  plan,  or  rather 
according  to  a  dozen  different  ones,  and  rising  helter-skelter 


60  MOTLEY'S  LETTEES.  [Chap.  III. 

from  the  midst  of  a  multitude  of  old,  sharp-gabled,  red-tiled, 
ten-storey  houses,  all  looking  as  if  built  in  the  time  of  the 
Crusades.  The  idea  of  a  Gothic  cathedral  was  associated Jn 
my  mind  with  hundreds  of  tumble-down  hovels,  booths,  and 
shops,  mixed  grotesquely  here  and  there  with  a  magnificent 
palace  of  half  a  dozen  centuries,  and  with  groups  of  amiable 
ragamuffins  and  lazzaroni,  which  on  the  Continent  form  such 
a  constant  and  indispensable  ingredient  of  every  picture. 
Although  I  knew  I  was  in  England,  I  could  not  help  thinking 
of  the  filth  and  misery,  squalor  and  magnificence,  neglect 
and  decay  which  usually  makes  up  in  equal  portions  every 
scene  of  the  Continent,  so  that  on  the  whole,  when  I  came  to 
look  on  Salisbury  Cathedral,  I  was  most  ridiculously  half 
disappointed. 

It  was  my  own  fault  or  my  own  stupidity.  The  church  is 
of  beautiful  proportions,  of  the  most  beautiful  (at  any  rate  the 
most  regular)  of  the  Gothic  styles  (namely,  the  Early  English), 
is  built  of  a  fair  coloured  stone,  which  looks  as  fresh  as  if  of 
yesterday,  and  with  its  light  and  graceful  and  very  high  spire, 
its  long  lancet-headed  windows,  its  massive  walls  and  stately 
buttresses,  is  certainly  one  of  the  finest  cathedrals  I  know. 
Influenced  by  the  associations  I  have  mentioned,  I  thought 
the  whole  scene  at  first  too  tidy,  too  notable,  too  housewifish, 
but,  as  I  said  before,  this  was  only  my  own  dulness ;  on  second 
thoughts  I  acknowledged  to  myself  that  filth  and  poverty  and 
ugliness  were  not  necessary  concomitants  of  a  cathedral,  and 
I  confessed  that  I  had  rarely  seen  a  more  lovely  picture  than 
this  same  church  presents.  The  scene  is  so  softly  and  sweetly 
English.  The  ^stately  and  graceful  cathedral  with  its  green 
and  smooth-shaven  lawn  in  front,  the  surrounding  elm  trees 
in  their  magnificently  massive  foliage,  the  tidy  cottages  half 
covered  with  honeysuckles  and  rose-bushes,  the  hawthorn 
hedges,  and  the  gred^  meadows  with  their  sleek  cattle  (to  say 
nothing  of  the  maca\iamised  turnpike  and  the  new  hotel), 
altogether  made  up  a  scene  purely  and  exclusively  English, 
and  perhaps,  after  all,  as  pleasing  a  one  as  you  can  find  any- 
where. From  Salisbury  I  made  a  short  detour  to  see  the 
celebrated  Stonehenge,  of  which  I  daresay  Preble  will  give 


1835.]  STONEHENGE.  61 

you  a  more  vivid  description  out  of  Worcester's  Geography 
than  I  can  do,  although  I  have  seen  it  so  lately.  In  fact,  a 
very  barbarous  monument  (in  the  matter  of  the  fine  arts  at 
least)  has  no  particular  interest  when  one  has  seen  the  much 
older  monuments  of  much  older  nations,  which  preceding 
ages  have  only  been  able  to  gape  at  and  admire  without 
even  being  able  to  imitate,  much  less  to  equal.  Stonehenge 
is  merely  a  rude  and  rather  awkward  grouping  together  of 
about  a  score  of  huge  and  shapeless  stones.  It  may  have 
been  a  Druid's  temple  or  Queen  Boadicea's  drawing-room  for 
aught  that  I  (or  I  believe  any  one  else)  know  to  the  contrary, 
and  I  can't  find  enough  interest  in  the  grotesque  monuments 
of  a  parcel  of  barbarians  to  detain  me  from  the  continuation 
of  my  tour.     I  shall  turn  it  over  to  the  antiquaries. 

Your  affectionate  son, 

J.  L.  M. 


62  '  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Ckap.  IV. 


CHAPTEE    lY. 

RUSSIA. 

Mr.  Motley's  marriage — ^Voyage  to  Europe — Discomforts  of  steamers — Manchester 
— The  MacLeod  case — London — En  route  to  St.  Petersburg — Lord  Lynd- 
hurst — Mr.  Clarke— Sir  Charles  Vaughan — Prussia,  her  vicissitudes  and  her 
condition  —  Kiinigsberg — A  local  legend — Tilsit — Tauroggen — Arrival  at 
St.  Petersburg — Russian  winter — Official  formalities — Expenses  of  living — 
The  climate  of  Russia — John  Randolph's  despatch — Russian  Society — The 
"Winter  Palace — Presentation  at  Court — Court  formalities — The  Czar — A 
Court  ball — The  Grand  Duke  Michael — More  presentations — Count  Leva- 
choffs  house — ^Sliss  Porter — TagUoni  —  Resignation  of  Secretaryship  of 
Legation — Nesselrode — Sir  William  "Wylie — Peter  the  Great — St.  Petersburg 
and  its  public  institutions — Casimir  Perier — Quarrel  between  French  and 
Russian  Courts — Journey  to  Berlin — Halle,  a  quizzical  town — Maurice 
church  and  its  legend — ^Weimar — Madame  de  Goethe — Frankfort-on-the- 
Main — Paris — Guizot — Thiers  as  a  speaker — Brussels — John  Van  Eyck,  the 
inventor  of  oil  painting — Diary  in  Russia — The  Great  Bazaar — How  it  is 
guarded  at  night — Russian  taxes  and  guilds — Food  supply — Army — Manu- 
factures— The  Blessing  of  the  Waters — Peter  the  Great's  house — Military 
hospitals — The  Hermitage  Gallery — Orphan  asylums. 

[In  1837  Mr.  Motley  was  married.  In  1839  appeared  his 
first  novel,  '  Morton's  Hope.'  In  the  autumn  of  1841  he  was 
appointed  Secretary  of  Legation  to  the  Kussian  Mission.] 

To  Ms  Wife. 

Halifax, 
Friday  morning,  October  Sth,  1841. 

My  DEAREST  Mary, — I  write  again  this  morning  in  order 
that  there  may  he  a  double  chance  of  your  hearing  from  me. 
I  wrote  yesterday  by  the  brig  Arcadian,  which  sailed  this 
morning  for  Boston,  and  you  will  probably  have  got  that 
letter  before  this  reaches  you.  I  told  you  in  that  that  we  had 
experienced  very  rough  weather  and  heavy  gales  from  the 
north-east  which  delayed  our  arrival  here  three  days  beyond 


1841.]  DISCOMFORTS  OP  STEAMERS.  '  68 

the  usual  time.  I  flatter  myself  that  nobody  can  beat  me  in 
long  passages,  go  whither  or  how  I  will.  However,  we  have 
every  reason  to  bo  thankful  that  we  arrived  at  last  in  safety, 
and  I  make  no  complaint  at  the  length  of  the  passage.  Of  the 
accommodations  of  the  boat  I  do  make  complaint,  and  I  may 
lis  well  tell  you  now,  if  you  come  out  in  the  spring,  by  all 
means  come  in  one  of  the  best  and  largest  New  York  packet 
ships.  The  average  gain  by  taking  a  steamer  is  only  a  week, 
and  the  loss  in  comfort — no,  not  comfort,  for  there  is  no  such 
thing  at  sea,  but  the  loss  in  those  appliances  which  make 
existence  endurable  at  sea — is  immense. 

Everything  is  dirty,  disorderly  and  disgusting.  There  is  no 
room  in  the  state  rooms  to  put  so  much  as  a  tooth-pick,  not  a 
drawer  nor  a  shelf,  but  everything  is  left  to  knock  about  on  the 
floor  at  its  o\\ai  sweet  will.  There  is  no  cabin  to  sit  in,  the 
narrow  piggery  in  which  we  are  fed  being  entirely  filled  up 
with  the  troughs  and  benches.  There  is  no  deck  to  walk  on, 
as  the  whole  or  nearly  the  whole  of  the  space  is  occupied  by 
the  upper  cabin,  the  state  rooms  being  below.  As  for  the 
ladies'  cabin,  I  have  not  been  in  it,  but  I  am  told  that  they  are 
much  worse  off  than  the  gentlemen.  Recollect,  my  dearest 
Mary,  that  I  am  not  painting  this  disagreeable  picture  because 
I  have  been  myself  so  uncomfortable,  but  only  to  prevent  you 
from  being  exposed  to  the  same  evils.  It  has  been  my 
greatest  consolation  thus  far,  that  you  and  my  little  darlings 
were  not  on  board  the  Caledonia  with  me.  I  believe  you 
would  have  been  driven  to  despair,  and  I  am  very  sure  that 
if  you  had  been  with  me,  we  should  have  all  stopped  in 
Halifax  and  gone  home  as  soon  as  possible.  Neither  do  I 
know  that  a  great  many  of  the  discomforts  of  these  ships  can 
be  avoided.  They  are  mail  boats,  intended  for  speed,  and  so 
carry  the  greatest  number  of  passengers  in  the  least  possible 
space.  We  are  accordingly  packed  down  like  salt  fish,  com- 
pressed into  nothing,  and  are  of  course  uncomfortable.  Now 
this  is  worth  bearing  in  going  to  America,  where  the  saving 
averages  two  or  three  weeks,  but  in  going  to  England  it  is 
most  "  tolerable  and  not  to  be  endured." 

The  captain  seems  to  be  a  thorough  seaman,  and  always  at 


64  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  IV. 

his  post,  and  inspires  us  with  perfect  confidence.  The  boat  has 
proved  herself  a  staunch  and  admirable  sea-boat.  These  are 
the  great  essentials  before  which  everything  else  is  as  nothing ; 
but  you  can  unite  all  in  a  first-rate  packet  ship  from  New 
York,  and  if  ever  I  should  go  to  Europe  again — but  no,  upon 
that  point  my  resolution  is  taken  most  decidedly.  If  I  get 
home  in  safety  I  shall  never  leave  it  again.  I  knew  I  should 
be  home-sick  enough,  but  did  not  anticipate  the  reality ;  I 
can  hardly  bear  to  think  of  you  and  all  at  home  for  an 
instant  without  being  sick  at  heart,  and  as  I  cannot  say  a 
word  upon  the  subject  without  becoming  very  foolish,  I  shall 
say  nothing. 

I  shall  say  nothing  now  upon  the  point  of  your  coming.  I 
intend  to  keep  an  exact  account  of  the  expense  and  of  every- 
thing else  bearing  upon  the  subject,  so  that  in  the  course  of 
the  winter  you  will  have  the  whole  matter  before  you,  all  the 
pros  and  cons,  and  then  I  shall  trust  you  to  decide  for  your- 
self; you  know  I  have  often  told  you,  my  dearest,  that  you 
always  decide  right  and  that  I  always  repent  not  taking  your 
advice  ;  I  tell  you  so  still,  that  in  order  that  you  should  decide 
upon  this  point  you  must  have  everything  before  you,  and  look 
fairly  at  both  sides.  Above  all  things,  do  not  be  governed  by 
your  feelings,  but  by  your  judgment. 

If  we  are  to  be  separated  till  my  return,  of  course  my  return 
will  be  so  much  the  sooner.  If  you  join  me,  the  pleasure  of 
being  together  will  be  embittered  by  the  length  of  the  journey 
and  the  great  fatigues  which  you  and  the  little  ones  will  have 
to  endure,  to  say  nothing  of  the  expense,  which  will  of  course 
be  great.  However,  it  is  premature  to  attempt  to  form  an 
opinion  now. 

Good\bye.   We  sail  from  here  at  three  o'clock  this  afternoon. 

Ever  your  own 

J.  L.  M. 


1841.]  ARRIVAL  IN  ENGLAND.  65 


To  his  Wife. 

Manchester,  of  all  places  in  the  world, 
October  20th,  1841. 

My  Dearest, — I  have  just  opened  this  letter  to  add  a  word 
or  two.  I  came  round  this  way,  having  nothing  to  do  in 
Liverpool,  and  because  Tom  was  coming  to  this  place.  I  dine 
here,  and  go  up  to  London  to-night.  I  saw  the  Mackintoshes 
in  Liverpool,  whom  you  will  see  very  soon,  as  they  go  in  the 
Britannia. 

The  Macleod  case  causes  an  inconceivable  fuss  and  anxiety 
throughout  Her  Majesty's  dominions.  The  first  question  asked 
at  Halifax  was  about  it,  and  in  Liverpool  we  had  hardly  got 
into  the  hotel  coffee-room,  reeking  from  the  Caledonia,  when 
several  stout  elderly  gentlemen  rushed  frantically  across  the 
room,  leaving  their  beer  untasted,  to  inquire  concerning  the 
Macleod  case.  In  short,  everybody  in  the  house  scented  us 
and  came  upon  a  point  at  once.  I  thought  that  the  ferocity 
on  the  subject  was  confined  to  the  provinces  —  provincial 
patriotism  is  always  ferocious,  but  the  excitement  was  very 
great  in  London.     God  bless  you. 


To  his  Wife. 

London, 
October  2Ut,  1841. 

My  dearest  ]\lARy, — I  arrived  here  this  morning  by  the 
railroad  between  five  and  six  o'clock,  having  left  Manchester 
at  seven  the  evening  before.  The  whole  tour  being  in  the 
dark,  you  will  hardly  expect  a  description  of  the  journey.  I 
left  Tom  at  Manchester,  who,  after  stopping  there  some  days, 
intended  to  go  to  Scotland. 

Contrary  to  my  expectations  I  found  Colonel  Todd  ^  still 
in  London.    He  had  a  passage  of  twenty-five  days,  so  that 

*  United  States  Minister  to  St.  Petersburg. 
VOL.   I.  - 


QQ  MOTLEY'S  LETTEES.  [Chap.  IV. 

after  all  I  did  better  than  lie.  Our  steamer,  however,  was 
beaten  by  several  of  the  packets;  that  of  the  1st  October 
from  New  York  arrived  before  us ;  and  the  Great  Western 
(unquestionably,  from  all  I  hear,  the  best  steamer  between 
England  and  America),  which  sailed  some  few  days  before  us, 
made  her  passage  in  thirteen  days.  Mr.  Frank  Gray  goes  out 
in  her  the  day  after  to-morrow.  He  is  here  at  the  same  hotel 
with  me  (Long's  in  Bond  Street).  He  will  see  you  probably 
on  his  arrival ;  and  if  it  gives  you  half  as  much  pleasure  to  see 
him  as  it  would  me  to  see  any  one  who  had  lately  seen  you, 
it  will  certainly  be  a  satisfaction  to  you.  I  cannot  tell  you 
how  much  I  long  for  letters,  and  yet  I  must  leave  England 
without  any. 

Augustus  Thorndike  is  also  at  this  house ;  his  family  are 
in  Paris.  Mr.  Stevenson  leaves  in  the  Great  Western;  Mr. 
Everett  has  not  arrived,  so  that  ridiculously  enough,  at  the 
present  critical  period  of  our  English  relations,  there  is  nobody, 
in  London  accredited  to  the  Court,  the  Secretary  of  Legation 
having  left  some  time  ago. 

I  am  not  yet  decided  upon  my  route.  Colonel  Todd  bad 
made  up  his  mind  to  go  by  the  Hamburg  and  Lubeck  line, 
but  is  somewhat  inclined  to  adopt  my  plan  of  going  by  way  of 
Stockholm.  There  is  some  difficulty  in  getting  information 
about  several  points.  It  is  plain  sailing  enough  as  far  as 
Stockholm,  but  some  question  whether  there  be  a  steamer  run- 
ning at  present  between  that  place  and  Abo  in  Finland. 
London  is  such  an  immense  place  that  nobody  knows  any- 
thing about  anything.  I  am  going  with  Colonel  Todd  to- 
morrow morning  to  see  Baron  Brunnow,  the  Eussian  Ambas- 
sador here,  who  will  give  more  information  probably  than  any 
one  else  can  do,  and  I  shall  be  guided  a  good  deal  by  what 
lie  says. 

It  is  unfortunate,  my  dear  Mary,  that  I  am  obliged  to  write 
thus  a  second  time  without  having  anything  to  say  to  you, 
except  .  .  .  hW  heart-sick  I  am  at  being  separated  from  you. 
It  is  indeed  "  %o  drag  at  each  remove  a  lengthening  chain " 
to  be  thus  pushing  onwards  towards  the  Finns  and  Calmucks, 
while  my  heart  and  my  eyes  are  ever  turning  backwards  over 


1841. J  EN   ROUTE  TO  ST.  PETERSBURG.  67 

the  thousands  of  miles  which  separate  me  from  all  I  love  in 
the  world : — 

"  But  where  my  rudo  hut  by  tho  Danube  lay. 
There  are  my  young  barbarians  all  at  play, 
There  is  their  Dacian  mother." 

Tell  me  all  about  the  rudo  hut  on  the  river  when  you  write. 
I  suppose  it  is  nearly  finished  by  this  time.  Be  sure  and 
attend  to  it  in  all  its  details,  for  I  hope  it  will  be  our  home 
for  many  years,  and  I  shall  never  be  happy  till  I  see  it  again. 
Tell  me  all  about  little  Lily  and  Lottie,  and  mother  and 
father  and  all  of  them.  Tell  mother  I  shall  certainly  write  to 
her  from  St.  Petersburg.  I  am  so  hurried  now,  and  shall  be 
till  I  get  there,  that  I  have  hardly  time  to  scrawl  these 
lejune  and  most  unmeaning  lines  to  you. 

Ever  yours, 

J.  L.  M. 


To  his  Wife. 


.  Hamburg, 
November  1st,  1841. 


My  dearest  j\Iary, — I  have  again  a  roosting-place  for  a 
few  hours,  and  hasten  to  employ  it  by  writing  to  you.  I 
reached  this  place  an  hour  or  two  ago  in  the  steamer  from 
London.  We  sailed  last  Wednesday  morning,  and  ought  to 
have  made  the  passage  by  Friday  noon,  from  fifty-five  to  sixty 
hours  being  the  average  passage,  instead  of  which  we  were 
six  days  about  it.  We  had  a  head  wind  and  very  heavy 
weather  the  whole  voyage,  so  that  it  seems  that  I  have  only 
to  form  a  resolution,  however  secretly,  to  go  by  sea  to  any 
given  place  for  the  wind  instantly  to  make  a  point  of  blowing 
a  gale  exactly  from  that  direction.  I  found  here  a  couple  of 
notes  from  Colonel  Todd,  who  has  been  expecting  me  at 
Liibeck  every  day  according  to  our  agreement,  but  this  most 
unconscionable  passage  has  kept  me  beyond  the  day  of  sailing 
of  the  Liibeck  packet,  in  which  wf  were  to  have  gone  together, 
and  as  it  is  the  last  boat  which  goes  all  the  way  to  Petersburg 
this  season,  he  was  obliged  to  go  without  me,  and  I  have 

F  2 


68  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  IV. 

to  make  the  journey  by  land.  This  is  nobody's  fault  but 
the  steamer  John  Bull's;  and  on  the  whole  I  do  not  much 
regret  it,  as  a  November  voyage  up  the  Baltic  is  not  a  very 
desirable  amusement,  and,  from  my  experience  of  steamboating 
lately,  I  daresay  it  would  prove  quite  as  tedious  and  fatiguing 
as  the  journey  by  land. 

Let  me  see,  I  wrote  you  last,  I  think,  by  the  Great 
Western,  a  day  or  two  after  my  arrival  in  London.  After 
that  I  left  my  letter  and  card  at  Lord  Lyndhurst's,  and  also 
at  Mr.  Clarke's,  his  cousin,  to  whom  Copley  Greene,  or  rather 
Mrs.  Greene,  was  kind  enough  to  send  me  letters.  Mr.  Clarke 
called  upon  me  immediately,  and  was  particularly  attentive 
to  me.  I  dined  with  him  once,  and  received  another  invita- 
tion from  a  friend  of  his  during  my  short  stay  there.  Lord 
Lyndhurst  was  in  the  country  when  I  arrived,  and  came  to 
town  only  the  day  upon  which  I  left.  He  however  wrote  me 
a  very  polite  note,  hoping  to  see  me  when  his  family  returned 
from  the  country  the  next  week,  and,  upon  my  informing  him 
that  I  was  leaving  that  day,  he  sent  me  a  letter  of  introduc- 
tion to  Lord  Stuart  de  Rothesay,  the  British  Ambassador  at 
Petersburg,  and  hoped  to  see  me  when  I  returned  to 
London. 

Mr.  Clarke  is  a  very  agreeable  gentlemanlike  person,  and 
I  feel  much  obliged  to  the  Greenes  for  their  introduction,  for 
which  I  wish  you  would  make  a  point  of  calling  upon  Mrs. 
Greene  and  expressing  thanks.  Tell  Sumner  that  I  left  his 
letter  and  my  card  at  Sir  Charles  Vaughan's  door ;  the 
servant,  however,  told  me  he  was  leaving  town  the  next  day, 
so  that  I  expected  to  hear  nothing  from  him.  However,  he 
came  round  to  my  hotel  within  an  hour,  and  sat  some  time  in 
my  room  with  me,  expressed  great  regard  for  Sumner  and 
great  regret  that  his  departure  from  town  and  mine  for  St. 
Petersburg,  etc.,  etc.  In  fact,  everybody  is  out  of  town  as  a 
matter  of  course ;  the  end  of  October  and  the  beginning  of 
November  is  the  hanging  season  in  London  and  the  com- 
mencement (I  believe)  of  the  hunting  season  in  the  country, 
so  that  of  course  everybody  is  supposed  to  be  hanging  them- 
selves or  hunting,  and  1  was  very  lucky  to  find  as  much  as  I 


1841]  JOURNEY  TO  ST.  PETERSBURG.  69 

did  in  London.  Sir  Charles  is  a  plain,  unaffected,  agreeable 
man,  and  I  hope  to  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  him  again  in 
London  some  time  or  other. 

I  leave  this  to-morrow  (at  noon)  I  believe,  for  Berlin,  and 
shall  stop  one  day  there  and  then  push  on  for  Konigsberg. 
I  expect  to  meet  a  fellow-passenger  on  board  the  John  Bull, 
a  young  man  ^  (son  of  Lord  Minto)  who  is  attached  to  the 
British  Legation  at  Petersburg,  and  who  left  in  the  diligence 
for  Berlin  to-night.  Being  both  upon  the  same  expedition, 
we  have  agreed  to  rough  it  together  in  the  diligence,  and  I 
hope  we  shall  reach  Petersburg  by  this  day  fortnight. 

Colonel  Hamilton  of  New  York  stopped  at  the  same  hotel 
with  me  in  London.  He  came  out  in  the  KamsehatJca,  which 
arrived  two  or  three  days  after  us,  having  made  a  very  long 
passage,  delayed  originally  by  the  same  severe  gale  which 
attacked  us  between  Boston  and  Halifax.  Schuyler  did  not 
come  up  to  London,  but  stayed  at  Southampton  with  the 
frigate.  I  shall  find  them  there  undoubtedly,  as  they  were  to 
sail  again  on  Tuesday  for  Cronstadt,  the  day  before  the  one 
I  left  London  for  this  place. 


To  his  Wife. 

St.  Petersburg, 
November  18th,  1841. 

I  wrote  to  you  last  from  Hamburg ;  the  next  day  I  went 
.in  an  abominable  diligence  to  Berlin.  Stayed  there  two  days. 
Saw  Mrs.  Kirkland  and  George  Cabot  constantly,  they  were 
both  perfectly  well  and  perfectly  tired  of  Berlin,  but  uncertain 
whether  they  should  leave  this  winter  or  remain.  Staying  in 
the  same  house  was  young  Welch,  who  has  joined  the  univer- 
sity, I  believe.  I  went  with  Cabot  to  the  Fay's  one  evening  (the 
Secretary  of  Legation) ;  he  and  his  wife  are  very  agreeable 
people.  Mr.  Wheaton  ^  I  called  upon,  and  he  upon  me,  but 
I  did  not  see  him,  both  being  out.      The  next  night  left 

'  Now  Sir  Henry  Elliot.  temational  Law,'  then  United  States 

"  T  ho  distinguished  writer  on  '  In-      Minister  to  Prussia. 


70  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  IV. 

with  my  travelling  companion,  Mr.  Elliot,  for  Konigsberg, 
a  long  pull  of  fifty-eight  hours  in  a  diligence.  We  had  the 
cabriolet  or  front  part,  where  one  is  very  comfortable.  The 
roads  are  excellent  in  Prussia,  but  the  country  most  un- 
interesting, our  whole  route  in  fact,  from  Berlin  to  Petersburg, 
traversing  a  portion  of  that  immense  plain  which  reaches  from 
the  Netherlands  to  the  Ural  Mountains.  It  is  a  good 
country  to  travel  at  night  in,  because  there  is  nothing  to  see 
and  the  roads  having  all  the  smoothness  and  directness  of  a 
railroad  without  its  rapidity,  you  are  able  to  sleep  in  the  well- 
cushioned  diligences  very  comfortably. 

Prussia  has  no  history — the  reigning  family  is  an  ancient 
one ;  but  the  State  is  new,  and  an  artificial  patchwork, 
without  natural  coherence,  mosaiced  out  of  bought,  stolen  and 
plundered  provinces,  and  only  kept  together  by  compres- 
sion. A  Prince  of  Hohenzollern-something-or-other-ingen 
bought  the  Mark  of  Brandenburg  with  the  dignity  of  Elector 
of  the  Empire,  and  his  successors,  after  having  in  the  course 
of  two  or  three  centuries  subjugated  the  barbarous  Prussia 
Proper  (already  well  hammered  by  the  Teutonic  Knights 
and  the  Polish  kings),  helped  themselves  to  a  slice  of 
Poland,  and  stolen  Silesia,  had  the  pleasure  at  the  beginning 
of  the  present  century  of  seeing  their  ingeniously-contrived 
kingdom  completely  sponged  out  of  existence  by  Napoleon, 
and  then  repaired  and  put  together  again  by  the  Cabinet- 
making  of  Vienna.  Since  then,  Prussia  is  a  camp,  and  its 
whole  population  drilled  to  the  bayonet.  It  is  the  fashion  to 
praise  its  good  administration ;  but  I  have  no  sympathy  with 
your  good  administrations. 

Prussia  is  a  mild  despotism  to  be  sure.  'Tis  the  homoeo- 
pathic tyranny — -small  doses,  constantly  administered,  and 
strict  diet  and  regimen.  But  what  annoys  you  most  is  this 
constant  dosing,  this  succession  of  infinitesimal  Government 
pills  which  the  patient  subject  bolts  every  instant.  Everything, 
in  fact,  is  regulated  by  the  Government ;  the  royal  colours  are 
black  and  white,  and  Government  is  written  in  black  and  white 
all  over  the  kingdom.  The  turnpike-gates  are  black  and 
white ;  the  railings  of  the  bridges  are  black  and  white,  and  so 


I 


1841.]  KONIGSBERG.  71 

nro  tlio  sirens  of  the  taverns,  post-houses,  etc.,  etc.  In  every  inn 
a  royal  ordonnance  stuck  up  against  the  wall  informs  you  how 
much  you  have  to  pay  for  everything — for  your  dinner,  your 
bed,  your  schnaps,  or  your  glass  of  sugar-and-water.  This  is 
well  enough  for  the  traveller ;  but  a  sort  of  arrangement 
neither  complimentary  nor  gratifying  to  the  inhabitants.  But 
what  nonsense  it  is  for  me  to  be  wasting  all  this  time  in  such 
a  tirade.  I  believe  it  is  because  I  was  annoyed  at  having  to 
go  back  (after  having  walked  down  to  the  Berlin  Post-office  to 
take  my  place  in  the  diligence)  for  the  sake  of  having  my 
passport  put  in  order ;  for  unless  the  American  Minister,  the 
Prussian  Minister  for  Foreign  Affairs,  the  police  inspector,  the 
Eussian  Minister,  and  the  Lord  knows  who  beside,  all  signify 
in  writing  their  perfect  approval  of  your  taking  a  seat  in  the 
♦Schnell  Post,  the  said  seat  in  the  Schnell  Post  is  refused  to 
you  by  the  prigs  of  the  Post-office. 
At  Konigsberg  we  waited  a  day — 

"  A  town,  whose  greatest  vaunt 
Besides  some  mines  of  zinc  and  lead  and  copper 
Has  lately  been  the  great  Professor  Kant  ; 
But  we,  who  cared  not  a  tobacco-stopper 
For  metaphysics,  still  pursued  our  jaunt 
Through  Germany,  whose  somewhat  tardy  millions 
Have  princes  who  spur  more  than  their  postilions  " — 

like  the  respectable  Don  Juan,  who  went  to  Petersburg  by  the 
same  route  that  we  did.  We,  however,  killed  one  lion  there, 
and  the  only  one  worth  killing — the  old  cathedral,  a  building 
five  hundred  years  old,  as  the  sexton  said :  built  by  the 
Grand  Master  of  the  Teutonic  Knights,  and  containing 
several  tombs,  monuments,  and  rude  portraits  of  the  old  Grand 
Masters  by  whom  Konigsberg  and  "  Prussia  Proper  "  (I  like 
that  expression,  because  all  Prussia  is  so  extremely  proper) 
was  governed  in  old  times.  One  of  the  monuments,  rudely 
representing  a  knight  in  a  reclining  position  and  dying,  with 
some  singular  devices  scattered  about,  attracted  my  attention, 
and  the  old  sexton  insisted  upon  giving  mo  a  long  legend 
about  it,  which  had  a  strong  resemblance  to  the  story  of  the 
maid  and  the  magpie.     This  story,  in  three  words,  was  that 


72  MOTLEY'S  LETTEKS.  [Chap.  IV. 

the  knight  lost  a  favourite  ring  from  his  finger — circumstances, 
convinced  him  that  his  favourite  servant  had  stolen  it,  and  so. 
he  incontinently  cut  off  his  head ;  afterwards,  a  raven's  nest  was- 
found  with  the  ring  in  it,  and  the  dead  servant's  innocence 
being  thus  demonstrated,  the  knight  had  nothing  for  it  but 
to  die  himself.  So,  upon  Tristram  Shandy's  principle,  "  that 
man  bears  pain  best  in  a  horizontal  position,"  he  threw  himself 
at  length  upon  his  elbow  with  his  toes  to  heaven  and  so  died. 
"  So  Johnny  Pringle  he  laid  down  and  died."  A  device  of  a 
raven  with  a  ring  in  his  mouth,  and  a  servant  with  his  head 
cut  off,  and  other  quaint  devices,  decorate  the  monument.. 
The  church  itself  is  venerable  from  its  age,  but  very  plain. 
The  windows  are  the  narrow  lancet-shaped  ones,  without 
tracery,  which  in  England  are  called  the  Early  English ;  but 
there  is  very  little  of  ornament  in  any  part  of  the  building — 
none  of  that  elaborate  carving,  that  needlework  in  stone,  that 
sculptured  Brussels  lace,  which  is  the  charm  and  the  wonder 
of  the  more  splendid  Gothic  cathedrals. 

The  same  night  we  went  to  Tilsit,  twelve  hours  from  K6- 
nigsberg  (if  you  take  any  post  map  of  Europe  or  even  any 
common  map,  you  may  easily  trace  our  route),  a  place  wher& 
Napoleon  dictated  peace  upon  a  raft  in  the  river  Memel  to 
the  Emperors  of  Kussia  and  Austria  and  remarkable  for  no- 
thing else,  where  we  stopped  a  day  and  night — these  stoppages 
by  the  way  were  owing  to  our  having  neglected  to  inforna 
ourselves  at  Berlin  about  the  diligence  hours  of  starting  from 
the  different  places.  If  we  had  used  due  diligence  in  using- 
the  diligence  we  might  have  shortened  the  time  four  or  five 
days.  However  as  that  would  not  have  shortened  the  road, 
and  as  our  fatigue  was  the  less,  it  was  of  no  great  consequence. 

From  Tilsit,  we  went  to  Tauroggen  on  the  Russian  frontier,, 
passing  through  the  custom-house  so  much  dreaded  by 
travellers  unscathed  and  untouched,  thanks  to  our  diplomatic 
capacity  (which,  by  the  way,  has  carried  us  through  every 
custom-house  with  flying  colours).  At  Tauroggen  we  stopped 
a  day  and  night,  the  inn  or  post-house  most  comfortable^ 
giving  one  an  agreeable  impression  of  Russian  arrangements. 
The  next  morning  at  ten,  we  took  our  seats  in  the  Russian 


1841.]  ARRIVAL  IN  ST.  PETERSBURG.  73 

mail  for  Petersburg ;  these  carriages  are  without  exception 
the  best  public  conveyances  in  Europe;  they  carry  four  per- 
sons only,  and  the  vehicle  consists  of  two  coupes  or  chariots, 
one  placed  behind  the  other,  and  each  containing  two  persons ; 
they  were  filled  with  spring  cushions,  leather  padded  pillows, 
lamps  to  read  by  in  the  night,  and  in  fact  as  comfortable  as  a 
private  carriage. 

The  road  from  Tauroggen  to  Petersburg  is  14  wersts,  and 
half  of  it  is  what  is  called  in  Europe  very  bad,  and  what 
we  should  call  pretty  good  in  America.  We  got  stuck  in 
the  mud  regularly  every  night,  but  as  we  were  only  passengers 
we  did  not  mind,  and  slept  comfortably  until  they  lifted  us 
out;  this  lasted  only  two  or  three  nights.  At  Riga,  the 
capital  of  Livonia,  we  got  our  first  snow  storm,  after  which 
the  weather  became  very  cold  (13  of  Reaumur  one  night 
(the  12th  of  November),  equal  to  about  zero  of  Fahren- 
heit, but  "  it  was  fine  times  for  those  who  were  well  wrapped 
up,  as  the  ice  bear  said  when  he  met  the  gentleman  a 
skating,"  and  I  was  uncommonly  well  wrapped  up.  I  was 
immersed  to  the  hips  in  a  pair  of  fur  boots  (furred  on  both 
sides),  without  which  an  attempt  to  make  such  a  journey 
would  have  been  a  bootless  undertaking,  and  had  a  pelisse 
lined  with  fur  reaching  from  my  eyelashes  to  my  heels :  thus 
attired  I  was  independent  of  the  weather.  It  was,  however, 
not  very  cold  long.  The  weather  in  fact,  since  the  12th  of 
November,  has  been  like  our  average  weather  in  January  and 
February.  How  it  will  be  later  you  shall  know  as  soon  as 
I  do. 

I  have  nothing  more  to  say  of  the  journey.  The  country  is 
dull  and  iminteresting  beyond  all  description,  and  as  we  had 
sixteen  hours  of  dark  to  eight  of  daylight,  "  the  whole  of  its 
tediousness  was  not  inflicted  on  us."  I  had  provided  myself 
at  Berlin  with  some  new  novels  of  Balzac  and  Paul  de  Kock, 
and  passed  most  of  the  time  in  reading,  slept  very  well  every 
night,  and  breakfasted,  dined  and  supped  very  comfortably  at 
the  stations  or  post-houses  along  the  road,  which  are  in  general 
very  well  regulated  establishments.  The  villages  through 
which  we  pass  are  all  of  wood,  generally  log  huts  thatched ; 


74  MOTLEY'S  LETTEES.  [Chap.  IT. 

the  houses  in  the  towns  are  mostly  of  wood,  painted  of  a  dark 
colour  and  sometimes  stuccoed,  and  the  people  dirty,  long- 
haired, long-bearded,  sheepskin-shirted  savages.  We  reached 
St.  Petersburg,  the  17th  of  November,  at  half-past  two  in  the 
morning. 

This  letter  I  consider  both  entertaining  and  instructive, 
unfortunately  it  is  illegible.  It  will  puzzle  the  spies  at  the 
post  office,  if  they  undertake  to  read  it. 

J.  L.  M. 


To  his  Wife. 


St.  Petersburg, 
November  19th,  1841. 


I  am  about  moving  to-morrow,  from  the  hotel  where  I 
am  just  now,  to  apartments  in  the  house  which  Colonel  Todd 
has  taken.  Lodgings  are  very  high  in  St.  Petersburg,  and  I 
am  assured  by  Mr.  Gibson,  the  Consul  here,  that  these  are 
very  cheap  compared  with  other  lodgings,  and  that  though 
more  elegant  than  I  should  care  for,  they  cost  actually  less 
than  many  much  more  ordinary  ones  elsewhere.  They  are 
well  situated  in  the  Admiralty  quarter,  large  and  handsomely 
furnished,  and  when  you  come,  if  you  conclude  it  best  that  you 
should,  there  are  additional  rooms  sufficient  to  accommodate 
us  comfortably,  for  a  very  small  additional  rent. 

You  ask  about  Colonel  Todd.  I  cannot  say  anything 
farther  at  present,  but  that  he  seems  to  me  a  very  amiable, 
kind-hearted  man,  and  disposed  to  make  things  agreeable  to 
me.  We  shall  probably  make  a  common  table  together  this 
winter.  He  is  undecided  yet  whether  his  family  will  join  him 
or  not.  Colonel  Todd  has  not  yet  had  his  audience  of  the 
Emperor,  who  is  in  the  country.  He  is  expected,  I  believe, 
to-morrow.  I  daresay  I  may  be  presented  next  week,  but 
know  nothing  yet.  As  soon  as  I  am  settled  in  my  quarters, 
I  shall  make  my  calls  of  ceremony  which  the  etiquette 
prescribes. 

I  hope  before  long  I  may  be  able  to  send  you  something 
amusing  in  my  letters.     Thus  far  I  have  hardly  looked  about 


1841.]  RUSSIAN  WINTER.  75 

me  at  all.     Tho   weather  has  been  cold,  though   not   dis- 
agreeable, since   tho  12th  November;   good  sleighing  since 
that  time,  with  the  thermometer  in  the  daytime  a  degree  or 
two  below  the  freezing  point.     The  Neva  has  been  some  time 
filled  with  ice  and  tho  bridges  taken  up,  although  the  ice  still 
floats  slo\tly,  so  that  there  is  no  crossing  at  all  at  present,  and 
everybody  is  waiting    for  the  ice  to  fix,  which  is  expected 
every  day.     Tell  me  about  the  weather  you  have,  when  you 
write.     I  should  like  to  compare  it  with  this,  and  besides  it 
gives  an  additional   touch  to  the   picture  of  home.     I  was 
delighted  with  your  description  of  Eiverdale  at  that  delicious 
season  (the    middle  of  October).     There  is  nothing   in  the 
whole  world  besides  like  an  American  autumn.     How  absurd 
it  is  in  you  to  call  your  letters  dull.     You  know  they  are  not. 
I  only  hope  you  will  write  me  thousands  just  such  dull  letters 
as  your  last.    They  had  the  eflfect  of  enchantment  upon  me, 
and  while  I  was  reading  I  heard  the  voice  of  my  darling  little 
Lotty,  and  saw  my  little  Lily's  bright  eyes,  and  for  a  moment 
was  transported  quite  across  the  dreary  waste  of  land  and  sea 
which  separate  us,  and  was  at   home  again.     You  are  very 
right  in  agreeing  with  me  that  I  have  the  worst  of  the  sepa- 
ration.    New  scenes  and  new  faces,  what  are  they  to  home 
scenes  and  home  faces  ?     Besides,  new  scenes  and  new  faces 
are  to  me  no  novelties.     I  do  not  know  how  much  to  ascribe 
to  the  lonely  feelings  I  experience,  how  much  to  my  having 
already  travelled  a  good  deal,  and  how  much  to  the  character 
of  the  place  I  am  in,  but  I  actually  feel  at  present  a  perfect 
want  of  curiosity,  and  the  lions  of  St.  Petersburg  are  likely 
to  remain  a  long  time  unkilled  in  their  cages  for  all  me.     I 
shall,  however,  make  a  business  of  it  soon,  and  I  hope  to  be 
able  to  entertain  you  a  little,  if  not  myself,  with  the  process. 
God  bless  you ! 

Your  own 

J.  L.  M. 


76  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  IV. 

To  his  Mother. 

St.  Petersburg, 
November  28th,  1841. 

I  have  not  yet  been  presented.  I  am  writing  this  in  my 
chancery  or  office,  from  which  Colonel  T.  has  this  moment 
gone  in  full  rig  to  have  his  first  audience  of  the  Emperor. 
On  account  of  the  Colonel's  not  having  had  his  audience, 
I  have  been  unable  to  make  any  calls  on  the  corps  drama- 
tique,  I  mean  diplomatique  which  is  much  the  same  thing. 
He  had  sown  his  preliminary  quantity  of  cards  broadcast  over 
the  town  and  had  reaped  his  return  crop  before  my  arrival. 
Etiquette  prescribes  to  a  Minister  to  renew  his  calls  after 
his  presentation,  and  accordingly  to-morrow  I  shall  accompany 
him  in  his  coach-and-four  to  honour  the  whole  of  them  with 
my  pasteboard.  After  that  I  have  a  right  to  expect  return 
calls  and  occasional  invitations ;  if  I  get  none,  it  will  be  no 
fault  of  mine,  for,  like  the  General  in  '  Tom  Thumb,'  "  I  shall 
have  done  my  duty  and  have  done  no  more."  I  have  as  yet 
made  no  calls,  except  that  day  before  yesterday  I  left  my 
letter  from  Lord  Lyndhurst  and  my  card  upon  Lord  Stuart  de 
Kothesay — he  was  out,  but  called  upon  me  the  next  day  and 
sat  half  an  hour  with  me — a  veteran  diplomatist,  having  been 
Minister  here  in  the  year  one — that  is  to  say  1801.  He  says 
that  Petersburg  has  degenerated  since  that  time.  That  genera- 
tion, the  grandparents  of  those  he  is  now  associated  with,  spent 
all  the  money,  and  left  them  only  the  great  empty  houses. 

The  weather  has  been  most  extraordinary.  The  river 
closed  a  day  or  two  after  my  arrival  (about  the  20th,  I  think) 
and  up  to  that  time  it  had  been  a  steady  cold  (not  very  cold) 
weather,  say  28°  of  Fahrenheit  at  noon.  But  for  the  last  week 
it  has  thawed  every  day,  not  a  warm,  sunshiny  thaw,  such  as  we 
have  in  January,  "  not  by  no  means,"  but  a  cold  drizzling,, 
something  between  a  fog  and  a  rain,  with  the  glass  a  degree 
above  the  freezing  point,  under  the  influence  of  which  the 
snow  and  ice  wii^ich  covered  the  ground  have  nearly  dis- 
appeared, and  the  t^roskies,  the  most  awkward  and  inconvenient 
of    all    jarvies,  haire   succeeded   to  the  sledges,  which  were 


1841.]  RUSSIAN  PRICES.  77 

cutting  about  when  I  arrived.  The  worst  of  it  is  that  if  we 
L,'et  no  snow  soon,  I  don't  know  what  I  shall  do  for  a  vehicle. 
To  keep  something  is  as  necessary  here,  where  it  is  as  far 
across  a  street  as  it  is  from  one  end  of  some  towns  to  the  other, 
jis  to  keep  a  pair  of  india-rubbers  in  Boston.  It  is  not  decent 
for  a  Secretary  of  Legation  to  go  about  in  hackney  vehicles, 
which  are  all  very  dirty,  but  luckily  it  is  perfectly  correct  to 
go  about  in  a  one-horse  sleigh,  which  you  can  take  by  the 
month  and  which  does  not  cost  much  more  than  half  a  coach- 
and-two,  which  would  be  the  only  alternative.  But  without 
snow  there  is  no  sleighing ;  fortunately  it  is  snowing  now,  and 
perhaps  we  may  have  a  change  of  weather. 

This  brings  me  to  speak  of  the  expense  of  this  place.  Tell 
Mary  that  if  my  opinions  and  experience  do  not  soon  change 
very  much,  the  expense  alone  will  make  me  beat  a  retreat 
immediately.  Everything  is  dearer  here  than  in  Boston, 
which  you  know  is  a  high  standard,  but  besides  that,  very 
irreat  expenses  are  incurred  for  things  which  I  should  dispense 
with  there.  I  should  be  afraid  to  tell  you  how  much  I  have 
been  obliged  to  spend  for  furs,  and  that  not  to  please  myself, 
for  I  hate  the  very  sight  of  them,  but  because  they  are  indis- 
pensable in  themselves,  and  although  I  tried  to  keep  as  near 
the  bottom  of  the  ladder  of  prices  (up  which  you  may  go  for 
a  single  wrapper  to  $10  or  $12,000)  as  was  consistent  with 
decency,  yet  the  price  was  tremendous  and  would  have  clothed 
me  for  a  year  in  Boston  and  three  in  Dedham.  .  .  . 

I  remain, 

Your  most  affectionate  son, 

J.  L.  M. 

I  forgot  to  say  that  owing  to  the  death  of  the  Queen 
Dowager  of  Bavaria  the  Court  are  in  mourning  for  twenty- 
four  days,  80  that  I  shall  not  be  presented  until  the  18th  of 
December.  Colonel  Hamilton  of  New  York  (son  of  the  great 
Hamilton  and  whilom  Secretary  of  State  under  Jackson)  and 
Schuyler,  his  son-in-law,  who  both  came  in  the  KamschatJca  are 
to  be  presented  on  the  same  day.  They  are  my  only  American 
acquaintances  except  the  Consul,  Mr.  Gibson. 


78  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  IV. 

To  his  Wife. 

St.  Petersburg, 
Decemher  Uih,  1841. 

My  dearest  Mary, —  ...  I  pass  my  time  almost  entirely- 
alone.  There  lie  upon  my  table,  to  be  sure,  cards  by  the 
dozen  of  princes  and  potentates,  diplomatists,  cup-bearers  and 
functionaries  of  all  possible  names,  some  of  which,  being 
printed  in  French,  I  can  read  but  can't  pronounce,  and  some, 
being  in  Kussian,  I  can  neither  read  nor  pronounce,  but  not 
one  of  the  owners  of  which  do  I  even  know  by  sight.  With 
the  exception  of  a  slight  acquaintance  with  the  members  of 
the  English  Embassy  and  with  the  Dutch  Charge  d' Affaires, 
I  do  not  know  a  soul.  I  know  that  it  is  in  part  my  fault,  and 
that  many  men  in  my  situation  would  have  rushed  round  the 
town,  established  intimacies  with  people  whose  names  I  have 
not  yet  learned,  and  been  quite  at  home  by  this  time.  But 
this  is  what  I  can't,  and  never  could  do.  I  cannot  take  root 
so  easily  anywhere,  and  in  such  an  inhospitable  and  ice-bound 
soil  as  this  it  requires  more  than  I  am  capable  of. 

I  am  going  to  a  party  at  the  Grand  Master  of  Ceremonies 
(Count  some  long  name  or  other)  to-morrow,  and  I  believe 
I  am  to  be  presented  at  Court  on  Saturday  next.  As  it  is  the 
"  name's  day  "  of  the  Emperor,  he  will  probably  give  a  great 
blow-out  of  some  kind  or  another — ball  or  "  swarry,"  or  some- 
thing to  make  us  comfortable,  I  suppose,  of  which  see  further 
particulars  in  my  next.  Whether  there  have  been  any  parties 
or  not  hitherto  in  the  town  I  know  not,  there  have  been  none 
at  Court ;  and,  with  the  exception  of  the  English  Ambassador's 
levee  a  few  days  ago,  where  we  all  went  in  our  gold-laced 
coats,  made  bows  and  walked  off  again,  I  have  darkened 
nobody's  doors  but  my  own  since  I  moved  into  my  quarters 
in  the  same  house  with  Colonel  Todd. 

In  the  absence,  then,  of  anything  agreeable  to  tell  you,  I 
propose  giving  you  some  statistical  and  topographical  facts, 
which  may  enable  you  to  come  to  a  decision  after  reading 
this  letter,  as  well  as  at  any  other  time,  concerning  our  future 
plans.     First,  with  regard  to  the  climate,  I  cannot  speak  with 


1841.]  THE  CLIMATE  OF  RUSSIA.  79 

very  great  certainty  from  ray  own  experience,  because  this, 
they  tell  me,  has  been  the  most  extraordinary  winter  hitherto 
that  has  been  known  for  forty  years.  When  I  arrived  here 
first,  a  month  ago  (17th  November),  the  ground  was  covered 
with  snow  and  ice,  the  sleighing  was  excellent,  the  Neva  was 
filled  with  floating  masses  of  ice  (which  stopped  about  three 
days  after  the  20th,  making  the  river  passable),  and  the 
thermometer  ranged  every  day  a  few  degrees  below  the 
freezing  point.  The  winter  appeared  to  be  settled  at  about 
the  ordinary  time  of  its  setting  in.  About  the  end  of  the 
month,  however,  there  came  a  thaw,  not  a  warm  sunshiny  thaw 
such  as  we  have  in  January,  but  a  cold,  drizzly,  foggy  thaw, 
which  gradually  broke  up  the  ice,  melted  the  snow,  and  opened 
the  river  again,  a  thing  which  does  not  occur  twice  in  a  century, 
before  the  end  of  April  or  beginning  of  May.  This  weather 
has  continued  without  intermission  up  to  this  moment,  that 
is  to  say,  the  glass  varies  from  two  or  three  degrees  below  the 
freezing  point,  with  a  sky  constantly  overcast,  and  occasional 
slight  showers  of  rain  and  snow.  This  is  unnatural,  and 
therefore  probably  unhealthy.  I  am,  however,  very  well 
myself,  but  it  is  a  great  consolation  to  me  to  think  that  the 
children  are  not  here,  shut  up  in  these  close,  stove-heated, 
double-windowed,  unventilated  rooms.  As  to  going  out,  it 
would  have  been  out  of  the  question,  with  the  exception  of 
two  or  three  days  ;  and  it  is  a  positive  fact  that  since  I  have 
been  here  there  has  not  been  one  clear,  bright,  sunshiny  day  ; 
and  as  to  their  length,  you  may  judge  of  it  by  the  fact  that 
I  shave  by  candlelight  very  often  at  half-past  nine,  and  just 
now,  when  I  sat  down  close  by  the  window  to  write  this 
letter,  I  was  obliged  to  order  candles,  although  it  wanted  a 
quarter  to  three. 

I  know  that  it  is  not  fair  for  me  to  judge  conclusively  of 
the  climate — neither  do  I.  I  am  only  giving  you  facts.  But 
it  is  certain  that  the  only  chance  of  a  change  is  that  of 
extreme  cold  weather,  which  everybody  is  looking  forward  to 
with  great  anxiety — the  more  so  as  at  this  season  of  the  year 
all  the  supplies  consist  of  frozen  meat  brought  hundreds  of 
miles  from  the  interior  to  this   market,  which  of  course  at 


80  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  lY. 

present  is  impossible.  I  cannot  quit  the  subject  of  the  climate 
without  quoting  to  you  a  passage  or  two  from  the  erratic  John 
Eandolph's  first  and  only  despatch  from  St.  Petersburg  during 
his  five  weeks'  residence  here : — 

"  I  shall  avail  myself  of  the  indulgence  which  the  President 
has  been  pleased  to  accord  me,  and  leave  this  worse  than 
Stygian  atmosphere  in  time  to  escape  the  rigours  of  its  arctic 
winter.  This  country  may  well  be  likened  to  a  comet ;  we 
are  now  in  the  perihelion — I  shall  not  wait  the  aphelion. 
Never  have  I  seen  so  many  severe  cases  of  summer  disease. 
St.  Petersburg,  built  upon  a  morass,  resembles  Holland  in 
everything  but  cleanliness  and  wealth.  An  inundation  of  the 
Neva,  the  only  outlet  of  the  vast  Lake  Ladoga  and  its  tribu- 
tary swamps,  lays  the  city  under  water.  The  mark  of  the  last 
inundation  is  four  feet  above  the  surface  of  the  streets,  which 
are  all  on  a  dead  level.  The  water  for  drinking  is  detestable, 
worse  even  than  that  of  Norfolk  or  New  York,  and  never  fails 
to  engender  the  most  fatal  diseases.  Dysentery  in  its  worst 
form,  bilious  fever  of  the  most  malignant  type,  are  now  raging. 
The  Concord  "  (the  ship  which  brought  him)  "  is  a  perfect  hos- 
pital. I  have  written  thus  far  interrupted  every  quarter  of 
a,  minute  by  innumerable  flies,  gigantic  as  the  empire  they 
inhabit,  which  attack  the  face  in  all  its  vulnerable  points — 
nose,  mouth,  ears,  and  eyes  under  the  cover  of  the  spectacles. 
This  is  the  land  of  Pharaoh  and  its  plagues.  It  is  Egypt  in 
all  but  fertility.  The  extremes  of  human  misery  and  human 
splendour  here  meet.  Although  I  succeed  an  Anglo-Eussian 
(in  his  house)  who  considers  himself  very  neat,  yet  an  exact 
description  of  the  house  prepared  to  receive  me,  the  public 
rooms  excepted,  would  not  be  very  pleasing  to  him  or  the 
reader,"  etc.,  etc. 

Is  it  not  a  hearty  ebullition  of  spleen  ? 

I  like  the  office  part  of  it  very  well.  In  fact,  the  only  part 
of  the  whale  business  that  I  do  like  is  the  office  business — that 
is  to  say,  I  should  like  it,  but  there  is  none  of  it.  The  rela- 
tions iDetween  the  United  States  and  Eussia  are  at  present  so 
completelyxsettled,  that  there  is  nothing  at  all  to  do.  But,  as 
a  stepping-sr^ne,  it  is  nothing.     The  fact  is,  the  profession  of 


1841.]  RUSSIAN  SOCIETY.  81 

diplomacy,  which  I  should  prefer  to  any  other  (and  which  I 
conceive  myself  better  fitted  for  than  any  other),  does  not  exist 
with  us.  There  is  no  promotion,  and  if  there  were  it  would  not 
be  desirable ;  for  I  assure  you  that  if  I  were  offered  the  post 
of  Envoy  Extraordinary  to  St.  Petersburg  at  this  moment,  I 
would  not  take  it  unless  I  could  spend  at  least  from  $15,000 
to  $20,000  per  annum.  To  me  it  would  be  a  constant  morti- 
fication and  annoyance  to  fill  such  a  post,  unless  with  proper 

respectability  and  dignity. 

Your  own 

J.  L.  M. 


To  Ms  Wife. 


St.  Petersbiirg, 
December  25th,  1841. 


This  is  Christmas  Day,  my  dearest  Mary,  according  to  our 
style  of  reckoning,  which  is  twelve  days  ahead  of  the  Eussian 
calendar,  and  I  hope  to-morrow  will  prove  a  merrier  Christmas 
to  you  than  to  me.  I  feel  that  I  have  no  right  to  communi- 
cate any  portion  of  the  depression  under  which  I  am  constantly 
labouring  to  you,  and  so  I  will  say  no  more  about  it. 

Since  I  last  wrote,  I  have  been  a  little  into  society,  and 
could  go  a  great  deal  more  if  I  chose.  I  go  to  two  or  three 
balls  a  week,  and  might  go  to  one  every  night  if  I  chose  to 
make  the  least  effort  to  do  so,  but  to  say  the  truth  I  am  totally 
unfit  for  society.  Staying  at  home  here  by  myself  is  bad 
enough,  but  it  depresses  me  still  more  to  go  into  society  and 
see  other  people  dancing  about  and  enjoying  themselves. 
"  They  have  dancing  shoes  with  nimble  souls,  I  have  a  soul  of 
lead,"  and  if  it  were  not  for  the  fear  of  b&ing  snubbed  too  much 
by  you,  when  I  see  you,  for  neglecting  what  you  will  call 
my  advantages,  I  would  go  nowhere.  As  it  is,  I  go  quite 
enough  to  see  the  general  structure  of  society,  which  is  very 
showy  and  gay,  but  entirely  hollow  and  anything  but 
intellectual. 

Now  as  you  will  wish  to  hear  about  the  ceremony  of  presen- 
tation at  this  paradise  of  ceremonies,  the  Russian  Court,  I  may 
as  well  describe  it  to  you  at  once. 

VOL.  I.  G 


82  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  IV. 

The  "  Winter  Palace  "  is  one  of  the  largest  domestic  build- 
ings in  Europe,  being  about  750  feet  upon  the  Neva  by  550 
feet  towards  the  Admiralty,  but  as  I  intend  to  go  one  of  these 
days  and  kill  all  the  lions  like  a  man,  and  as  this,  with  its 
adjoining  Hermitage  and  its  Spanish  pictures,  is  one  of  the 
principal,  I  shall  reserve  a  description  of  the  palace,  of  which  I 
have  only  seen  a  few  rooms,  and  content  myself  with  describing 
my  own  exploits. 

We  drove  round  to  the  Neva  side  of  the  palace,  where  we 
alighted,  walked  in  through  a  moderately  sized  door,  up  a  few 
marble  steps  into  a  long  vaulted  corridor,  with  a  tessellated 
marble  floor.  Coming  to  the  end  of  this  gallery,  we  ascended 
a  broad  and  splendid  staircase  upon  the  top  of  which  were 
several  pages-in-waiting,  dressed  in  a  fantastic  uniform  com- 
bining the  Highlander's  bonnet  with  the  chequered  clothes 
of  Harlequin.  One  of  these  skipped  out  and  led  us  through 
several  fine  large  rooms  to  the  "  Hall  of  the  Throne,"  where  the 
diplomatic  body  were  assembled.  There  Ave  were  left  with  our 
companion  in  arms  to  await  the  arrival  of  the  Emperor  and 
Empress.  The  room  is  spacious,  with  crimson  hangings,  the 
walls  are  starred  all  over  with  little  double-headed  eagles  in 
gold,  and  a  richly  decorated  throne  occupies  a  large  recess 
upon  the  side  opposite  the  windows.  Here  we  talked  and 
walked  about  mingling  in  a  mob  of  gold  lace  dignitaries, 
amongst'  whom  the  ubiquitous  Nesselrode  was  bobbing  about 
as  usual,  until  a  flood  of  courtiers,  pouring  into  the  hall  from 
an  inner  one,  and  passing  out  followed  by  a  stately  procession 
of  dames  of  honour  and  ladies  of  the  Court,  with  golden  tiaras 
and  sweeping  robes  of  velvet  and  brocade,  indicated  that  their 
Majesties  were  approaching,  having  despatched  the  victims 
which  had  been  offered  up  to  them  in  the  hall  immediately 
preceding.  We  were  now  drawn  up  in  "  solemn  column  "  by 
Count  Bosch,  we  master  of  the  ceremonies,  and  formed  a  very 
respectable  semi-circle,  beginning  with  the  "  dowager  of  St. 
Petersburg  "  (as  he  calls  himself).  Lord  Stuart  de  Eothesay,  at 
one  end,  and  tapering  off  with  those  who  had  not  yet  been 
presented.  By  this  arrangement  I  was  of  course  very  near 
the  foot  of  the  class,  and  stood  between  a  Danish  attache  and 


1841.]  PRESENTATION  AT  COURT.  83 

>^ir  Robert  Porter,  British  Charge  d'Affaires  at  Venezuela. 
Presently  a  file  of  ladies  marched  in  and  stationed  themselves 
along  by  the  windows  of  the  hall  opposite  the  diplomatic 
circle.  Among  these  were  the  Grand  Duchess  Helena,  the 
Grand  Duchess  Olga,  and  various  others  whose  faces  I  was  too 
blind  to  distinguish,  and  who  were  too  great  to  be  aimed  at 
with  an  eye-glass,  and  immediately  afterwards  came  their 
Majesties  male  and  female. 

The5^  attacked  the  Ministers  first,  beginning  with  the 
English  Ambassador,  and  so  on  along  the  line  of  diplomats 
stationed  according  to  their  official  rank  and  seniority  of  com- 
mission. His  Majesty,  on  reaching  our  end,  despatched  each 
victim  with  a  bow  or  a  single  question,  passing  to  the  next 
man  as  soon  as  each  name  was  fairly  announced.  My  intro- 
duction consisted  in  the  announcement  of  my  name  and  office, 
and  an  exchange  of  bows,  for  just  as  he  was  about  to  address 
me  with  probably  the  usual  question  of  "  How  long  have  you 
been  here  ?  "  his  eye  caught  sight  of  Sir  Robert  Porter,  who  had 
lived  formerly  a  great  many  years  in  St.  Petersburg,  and  whom 
the  Czar  welcomed  with  great  cordiality — very  flattering  to  me, 
wasn't  it  ?  The  Empress  stopped  a  moment  after  I  had  kissed 
her  hand  in  my  turn,  and  the  following  amusing  and  instruc- 
tive conversation  took  place,  which,  as  you  like  details,  I  give 
you  verbatim.  "  Did  you  arrive  with  the  Minister  ?  "  "  Non, 
votre  Majesty."  "  How  did  you  come  ?  "  "  By  the  Berlin 
route."  "  Ah,  did  you  stop  some  time  in  Berlin  ?  "  and  with 
this  she  tottered  off  to  the  next  man.  After  she  had  reached 
the  bottom  of  the  class  and  heard  us  all  say  our  lessons,  she 
passed  with  the  Emperor  into  the  next  hall,  and  the  school 
broke  up,  or  rather  we  had  a  recess.  .The  old  stagers  were 
dismissed,  but  the  youngsters  who  had  not  yet  gone  the  rounds 
were  requested  to  stop  to  be  presented  to  the  Grand  Duke 
Heritier  and  his  spouse. 

We  waited  accordingly,  and  after  a  little  while.  Count 
Bosch  again  took  charge  of  us,  assisted  by  a  quizzical  old 
chamberlain  as  whipper-in,  and  marshalled  us  through  other 
rooms  (a  description  of  which  is  of  course  out  of  the  question, 
because  we  passed  so  rapidly  through  them,  and  because  there 

G  2 


84  MOTLEY'S  LETTEKS.  [Chap.  IV.. 

are  more  than  a  hundred  splendid  apartments  upon  this- 
floor)  till  we  reached  a  long,  high,  vaulted  hall  in  white  and 
gold.  The  walls  and  pillars  of  this  room  are  of  white  stucco 
(they  ought  to  have  been  marble),  the  floor,  like  all  the 
floors,  of  beautifully  polished  and  inlaid  woods  of  different 
colours  arranged  in  graceful  figures,  the  ceiling  was  massively 
gilt,  and  in  the  centre  of  one  side  looking  out  towards  th& 
great  quadraf^le  of  the  Admiralty  Square,  with  the  column  of 
Alexander  in  the  centre,  and  the  triumphal  arch  with  its  car 
and  horses  of  victory.  Beyond  is  a  deep  spacious  oriel  window. 
This  is  the  size  of  a  small  boudoir,  the  three  sides  are  formed 
of  vast  plates  of  glass,  comfortable  fauteuils  are  in  each  recess 
by  the  window,  and  in  the  centre  is  a  fine  statue  of  a  ball 
player.  We  lounged  about  this  hall  for  some  time,  dancing 
attendance  upon  their  Imperial  Highnesses,  who  were  probably 
taking  a  comfortable  lunch  in  the  meantime,  while  every  now 
and  then  a  covey  of  maids  of  honour  and  that  sort  of  people 
would  flock  into  the  hall,  and  stately  dames  de  la  eour  would 
sail  into  the  room  and  sail  out  again  with  their  long  trains 
sweeping  after  them.  The  morning  court  costume  of  the 
Eussian  ladies  by  the  way  is  very  beautiful,  and  was  introduced, 
or  rather  restored,  by  the  present  Emperor.  The  diadem-liko 
head-dress  and  short  tunic,  which  constitute  the  historical 
costume  of  Eussia,  and  which,  made  of  ruder  materials,  you  see 
constantly  worn  by  the  better  sort  of  the  lower  orders,  has  a 
very  picturesque  effect  when  united  to  the  long  velvet  trains, 
and  is  very  becoming  to  pretty  women. 

Moreover  the  halls  of  the  palace  are  so  vast,  that  they  have 
plenty  of  room  to  sweep  about  and  display  their  finery,  without 
danger  of  being  jostled  or  incommoded.  For  these  reasons  a 
fete  at  the  Gzar's  Court  is  a  very  picturesque  show.  As  Sir 
Philip  Sidney  s  life  was  "  poetry  put  into  action,"  so  a  Court 
circle  at  St.  Petersburg  is  a  hallet  in  real  life.  All  this  pomp 
and  procession^,  the  gorgeous  locale,  the  glittering  costumes, 
the  fantastic  ceremonies,  the  farcical  solemnity  of  the  whole, 
remind  me  constantly  of  some  prodigiously  fine  ballet.  The 
tableaux  were  consl-antly  varying,  the  grouping  was  good,  the 
colours  were  gaudy,  yet  harmonious,  and  excepting  that  the 


1841.]  COURT  FORMALITIES.  85 

materials  were  brocade  and  bullion,  instead  of  fustian  and 
tinsel,  and  that  the  scene  was  a  real  instead  of  a  mimic  palace, 
you  had  every  element  of  a  successful  spectacle. 

At  last  we  were  ushered  into  a  room  (adjoining  the  one 
in  which  we  had  been  waiting),  which  was  crimson  and  gold, 
the  drapery  and  furniture  being  crimson  satin  and  the  walls 
actually  plated  or  sheathed  in  gold.  This  is  but  natural  in  a 
<ity  where  they  gild  the  domes  and  spires  of  neiirly  all  their 
churches  and  public  buildings.  Here  we  were  again  drawn 
up  in  a  phalanx, "  still  as  the  breeze  but  dreadful  as  the  storm," 
<ind  presently  the  Grand  Duchess  Marie  Alexandrine,  wife  of 
the  hereditary  Grand  Duke,  made  her  appearance,  and  com- 
menced operations  by  flooring  Gevers,  the  Dutch  Charge,  who 
was  at  the  head  of  the  row.  She  is  a  sweet,  pretty,  blonde 
and  bright-eyed  creature,  a  daughter  of  Hesse  Darmstadt, 
whom  the  young  duke  married  for  love,  and  she  went  through 
the  present  task  very  gracefully.  Her  conversation  with  me 
was  pretty  much  the  stereotyped  form,  consisting  of  two 
questions,  videlicet,  "  Have  you  been  long  here  ? "  "  Only 
for  a  week."  "  Is  it  the  first  time  you  have  been  in  Kussia  ?  " 
*'  The  first  time  I  have  had  that  honour."  With  that  a  bow 
and  a  smile,  for  she  has  rosy  lips  which  can  smile,  and  she 
passed  on  to  the  next  man,  my  friend  Sir  Kobert.  The 
fcJocratic  method,  by  the  way,  is  the  one  universally  adopted 
by  sovereigns.  Their  observations  always  come  to  you  in  a 
questionable  shape,  and  I  should  think  a  little  catechism 
might  be  composed  for  them  with  which  they  might  make 
themselves  familiar  beforehand,  and  which  would  make  the 
)x)re  of  presentation  much  less  fatiguing  and  embarrassing  to 
all  parties.  A  few  staple  questions  such  as  "  How  long  have 
you  been  here  ?  "  "  Did  you  ever  see  a  white  bear  ?  "  Such 
questions  as  these,  varied  a  little  according  to  circumstances, 
and  framed  to  combine  amusement  with  instruction,  should 
form  the  vade  mecum  of  sovereigns,  and  would,  if  diligently 
committed  to  memory  in  early  youth,  answer  the  double  pur- 
pose of  imparting  pleasure,  and  eliciting  information. 

As  the  Grand  Duchess  retired,  her  page,  immersed  to  the 
hips  in  military  boots,  tried  very  hard  to  tread  upon  her  train 


86  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  IV. 

or  to  lift  it  up,  I  could  not  exactly  make  out  wLiicb,  but  I 
could  not  sufficiently  admire  the  incongruity  of  his  boots  with 
his  office,  and  comment  upon  the  necessity  of  our  shivering  in 
our  silk  stockings  and  small  clothes  to  the  ball  the  next  night, 
while  the  Grand  Duchess  has  a  squire  in  jack  boots  to  carry 
her  petticoats. 

After  we  were  bowed  out  of  this  room,  we  marched  back 
through  the  hall  with  the  oriel  into  a  suite  of  two  or  three 
rooms  filled  with  pictures,  where  we  were  to  wait  the  Heredi- 
tary's  leisure.  I  amused  myself  so  well  with  the  pictures, 
among  which  were  several  fine  Velasquez,  a  fine  "Descent 
from  the  Cross "  by  Eubens,  one  or  two  Paul  Potters,  and  a 
good  many  fine  Spanish  pictures,  that  I  came  near  being  left 
behind.  I  came  up  with  the  rest,  however,  before  they  left 
the  room  where  we  were  served  up  to  the  Grand  Duke,  a  fresh- 
looking  young  man,  who,  like  his  august  father,  swallowed 
half  a  dozen  of  us  at  a  mouthful,  myself  included,  only  bowing 
as  we  were  successively  introduced,  and  asking  questions  of  but 
one  or  two.  However,  as  the  ladies  talked  to  me,  I  have  no 
reason  to  complain.  After  this  ceremony  we  marched  off  and 
went  home. 

•The  Czar  is  deserving  of  all  the  praise  I  have  heard  of  him. 
He  is  one  of  the  handsomest  men  I  ever  saw,  six  feet  three 
inches  at  least  in  height,  and  "every  inch  a  king."  His 
figure  is  robust,  erect  and  stately,  and  his  features  are  of  great 
symmetry,  and  his  forehead  and  eye  are  singularly  fine. 

"  The  front  of  Jove  himself, 
An  eye  like  Mars  to  threaten  and  command." 

In  short  he  is  a  regular-built  Jupiter ;  and  so  much  for  the 
Court  circle,  or  what  would  be  called  in  England  the  Drawing- 
room.  Now  for  the  ball,  of  which,  however,  I  am  afraid  I 
shall  not  b^e  able  to  say  anything  new  or  anything  very 
interesting.  \  The  small  clothes  being  "  de  rigueur,"  I  was 
obliged  to  ex^bit  my  unlucky  legs 


"l\ 


brilliant  breeches  spotless  as  new  milk," 
without,  unfortunately,  being  able  to  add 

"  On  li^bs  whose  symmetry  set  off  the  silk." 


1811.3  A  COURT  BALL.  87 

However,  as  there  was  no  help  for  it,  I  endued  myself  with 
fortitude  and  the  dreaded  breeches  at  half-past  eight,  and  we 
drove  oflf  early  in  order  to  see  the  grand  "  star  and  waltz 
entree  "  of  the  Koyal  family  into  the  ball  room.  We  arrived 
"  au  perron  indique,"  as  the  etiquette  book  directs,  alighted, 
gave  our  fur  and  boots  to  our  faithful  Jager,  and  then  marched 
along  across  the  tessellated  marble  of  the  corridor,  up  the 
same  grand  staircase,  upon  the  top  of  which  a  cluster  of  the 
same  pages  were  lounging  as  upon  the  day  before,  and,  after 
being  led  by  one  of  them  through  a  few  "  halls  of  dazzling 
light,"  we  were  at  last  met  by  the  quizzical  old  Chamberlain 
who  had  been  oiir  yesterday's  Palinurus,  and  who  now  piloted 
us  safely  into  the  "  Salle  Blanche."  The  Imperial  family  had 
not  entered,  so  we  had  leisure  to  look  about  a  little. 

This  ball  room,  as  its  name  indicates,  is  white,  richly  and 
massively  decorated  with  gold.  It  is  of  vast  dimensions, 
spacious  enough  for  a  whole  nation  to  dance  in  without  jolting, 
and  absolutely  overflowing  with  light.  The  great  charm  of 
scene  was  the  extraordinary  brilliancy  of  the  hall.  White  and 
gold  light  up  well  of  course,  particularly  when  a  few  millions 
of  candles  are  stuck  into  the  myriad  sockets  of  the  many 
massive,  glittering  chandeliers.  There  were  three  rows  ot 
these  immense  chandeliers  hanging  from  the  ceiling,  thousands 
of  candles  placed  along  and  in  front  of  the  massive,  gilded 
gallery  which  runs  completely  round  the  hall.  This  gallery 
was  completely  filled  Avith  spectators,  all  female,  well  dressed 
and  some  of  them  pretty,  realising  in  part  the  suggestion  of 
the  imitation  of  Tom  Moore  in  '  Rejected  Addresses ' — 

"  If,  instead  of  those  lamps,  that  a  row  of  young  beauties 
Shed  light  from  their  eyes  betweeu  ua  and  the  pit" — 

except  that  in  this  case  the  young  beauties  and  the  candles 
were  combined. 

The  floor  of  the  hall  was  thronged  with  dignitaries  glittering 
like  goldfinches  and  chattering  like  magpies,  and  the  great 
variety  of  costumes,  the  civilians  with  their  stars  and  garters 
and  gold  sticks,  and  military  oflBcers  in  every  variety  of 
uniform,   with  the   ladies   in  the    latest    Parisian    toilettes, 


88  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  IV. 

furnished  a  constantly  shifting  succession  of  rich  and  striking 
pictures.  The  most  picturesque  figures  were  the  officers  from 
the  various  Asiatic  provinces  of  Kussia  and  from  the  regions  of 
"  frosty  Caucasus."  The  Circassians  with  their  keen  eyes, 
black  beards  and  white  caftans,  showed  their  purer  descent 
from  the  original  stock  of  the  European  race,  and  were  well 
contrasted  with  the  Cossack  officers,  some  of  whom  looked  as  if 
they  might  have  served  in  Attila's  army.  While  I  was 
lounging  about  and  talking  to  a  few  acquaintances,  a  strain  of 
solemn  music  announced  the  arrival  of  the  Imperial  family, 
and  immediately  the  Emperor  and  Empress  marched  in  hand-in- 
hand,  like  Adam  and  Eve,  followed  by  their  whole  family.  The 
Empress  was  looking  better  in  her  ball  dress  than  in  her 
ceremony  robe,  and  the  Emperor  was  as  fine  as  possible  in  a 
red  coat  and  green  ribands  and  jack  boots.  Next  there  came 
the  Grand  Duke  Michael,  the  brother  of  the  Emperor,  with  his 
wife,  a  pretty  woman  blazing  in  diamonds  and  emeralds,  and 
then  the  Duchess  Olga,  the  daughter  of  the  Emperor,  who  is 
a  blonde,  a  stately  and  magnificent  beauty  with  the  Czar's 
forehead  and  eye — 

,  "  Who  stepped  as  doth  a  Spanish  barb 

Or  Andalusian  girl  from  mass  returning." 

And  then  came  the  Heritier  and  his  pretty  wife,  and  then  all 
the  other  little  Grand  Dukes  and  Duchesses,  down  to  a  little 
Grand  Duckling  of  seven  or  eight  years,  looking  like  Puss  in 
Boot's  in  a  cavalry  uniform,  and  who  is  the  youngest  but  two 
of  the  Emperor's  children.  They  marched  round  the  hall  in 
a  solemn  polonaise,  followed  by  about  a  third  of  the  company, 
while  the  rest  looked  on  for  an  hour  or  two  to  the  tune  of 
slow  music ;  and  after  this  had  continued  quite  long  enough, 
quadrilles  were  .formed  of  the  haute  voUe.  At  first  and  after- 
wards there  wasi  "  still  vaulting  by  the  whole  company,"  till 
we  went  into  supwer.  This  was  served  in  the  great  banqueting- 
room  (which  is  abput  200  feet  by  120),  where  the  four  or  five 
hundred  guests  sat  down  without  the  least  crowding. 

The  effect  was  very  fine,  and  the  banquet,  with  the  brilliant 
lights,  the  sumptuous  furniture,  the  dresses  of  the  guests,  the 


1841.]  A  STATELY  ENTERTAINMENT.  89 

elaborate  liveries  of  the  countless  servants  and  the  pillared  and 
vaulted  architecture  of  the  hall,  resembled  a  colossal  picture 
of  Paul  Veronese.  The  supper  was  of  many  courses  and  very 
good.  After  it  was  over  we  all  rose  and  marched  back  through 
a  long  suite  of  rooms  to  the  Salle  Blanche,  where  dancing  was 
resumed  for  a  little  while ;  but  at  twelve  the  Imperials  retired 
and  dismissed  us.  I  was  very  glad  that  it  broke  early,  for  I 
was  constantly  thinking  "  that  it  was  a  most  excellent  piece 
of  work,  would  it  were  over ; "  and  I  daresay  you  are  willing 
to  say  the  same  thing  of  this  interminably  long  letter.  I 
know  you  are  fond  of  details,  but  I  think  I  have  given  you 
enough  of  them  for  the  present. 

I  am  going  to  write  to  mother  by  this  opportunity.  Tell 
Stackpole  that  I  am  much  obliged  to  him  for  his  letter, 
and  that  I  shall  write  to  him  by  the  next  courier.  Tell  him  it 
will  be  a  real  charity  in  him  to  write  often.  You  have  no 
idea  of  the  absolute  and  dreary  solitude  in  which  I  live ;  and 
as  to  hearing  anything  about  what  goes  on  in  America,  it  is 
entirely  out  of  the  question  here ;  and  if  he  had  known  this,  I 
am  sure  he  would  have  given  me  a  little  more  information 
about  what  is  going  on  in  public  matters.  Not  that  I  take  a 
very  great  interest  therein ;  but  still,  as  he  wrote  after  the 
Massachusetts  election,  I  should  like  to  have  known  whether 
the  loco-focos  ^  carried  the  State  or  not,  as  they  seem  to  have 
done  every  other.  We  know  nothing  about  it  here,  and  shall 
not  perhaps  these  three  months.  The  only  channel  of  informa- 
tion is  private  letters,  as  our  newspapers  come  very  irregularly 
and  are  always  as  old  as  the  hills. 

Ever  your 

J.  L.  M. 

*  The  Democrats  were  bo  cEilled  from      put  out,  was  re-illuminated  by  loco- 
an  incident  in  1834,  when  a  meeting,      foco  matches, 
at  which  the  lights  had  been  suddenly 


90  MOTLEY'S  LETTEES.  [Chap.  IV. 

To  his  Mother. 

St.  Petersburg, 
December  2Qtli,  1841. 

My  dearest  Mother, — I  have  just  finished  a  long  letter 
to  Mary,  and  am  going  to  spend  part  of  this  day  and  solitary 
evening  in  writing  to  you.  It  seems  hardly  right  that  I 
should  communicate  a  part  of  my  dulness  to  you  and  to  her, 
and  I  feel  that  I  necessarily  must,  or  not  write  at  all ;  but 
still  I  will  do  what  I  can  to  amuse  you,  although  I  am  quite 
sure  that  my  letters  must  be  as  stupid  as  the  place  they  are 
written  from.  The  fact  is,  I  find  that  I  have  undertaken  a 
task  almost  beyond  my  strength — that  of  coming  away  and 
leaving  all  my  home  behind  me.  Still  I  do  not  regret 
having  come,  because  nothing  but  my  own  experience  would 
have  satisfied  me  upon  the  subject,  and  now,  being  fully 
satisfied  upon  every  point,  I  have  nothing  to  do  but  to  look 
forward  to  a  not  very  distant  meeting.  I  have  also  one 
constant  consolation — that  I  did  not  bring  Mary  with  me  and 
my  little  darlings, 

"  Whose  breath  was  given 
By  milder  genii  o'er  the  deep." 

For  say  what  you  will  of  the  American  climate,  there  is  none 
which  has  more  sunshine  or  is  more  cheerful ;  while  here  in 
this  morass,  although  that  well-known  person,  the  oldest  in- 
habitant, has  repeatedly  declared  that  he  never  knew  so  mild 
a  winter  as  this  has  been  thus  far  in  St.  Petersburg  in  the 
whole  course  of  his  life,  the  sun  has  not  shone  but  three  days 
out  of  the  thirty-nine  I  have  been  here.  The  weather  has 
not  been  extremely  cold  to  be  sure,  the  average  temperature 
having  been  very  much  the  same  as  that  of  Boston  for  the 
same  months  last  year ;  but  the  shortness  of  the  daylight 
(between  five  and  six  hours)  and  the  constant  gloom  of  the 
atmosphere  make  it  excessively  disagreeable. 

I  have  given  Mary  a  long  and  tedious  description  of  the 
ceremony  of  presentation  to  the  Emperor.  To-day  I  have 
been  to  see  the  Grand  Duke  Michael,  the  brother  of  the 
Emperor,  having  received  a  note  from  the  Grand  Master  of 


1841.]  THE  IMPERIAL  FAMILY.  91 

the  Ceremonies  yesterday  stating  that  2  o'clock  to-day  was 
the  hour  appointed.  I  found  waiting  in  the  ante-chamber  the 
same  people  who  were  presented  at  the  diplomatic  circle  the 
other  day,  among  whom  was  my  travelling-companion  Elliot 
and  some  other  acquaintances.  We  were  received  only  on 
the  lower  floor,  in  very  ordinary  rooms,  so  that  I  did  not  have 
a  chance  of  seeing  his  palace,  which  is  said  to  be  very  fine, 
and  which  the  Emperor  built  and  presented  to  him  upon  his 
marriage  some  years  ago.  However,  next  Sunday  I  shall 
probably  receive  a  summons  to  be  presented  to  his  wife,  the 
Grand  Duchess  Helena,  for  such  is  the  ceremonious  style  of 
doing  things  at  this  Imperial  Court,  always  reminding  me  of 
Dogberry's  observation,  "  Were  I  as  tedious  as  a  King,  I  could 
find  it  in  my  heart  to  bestow  it  all  upon  your  Worship.'* 
And  such  is  the  number  of  the  people  to  whom  one  has  to  be 
trotted  out,  that  it  will  probably  be  a  month  or  two  before 
I  have  got  through  my  presentations.  Next  Sunday,  then, 
I  shall  probably  see  the  show-rooms  of  the  Michaelofisky 
palace,  and  I  suppose  they  give  balls  occasionally  during 
the  winter. 

This  week  the  first  of  the  hals  de  la  noblesse,  a  series  of 
assemblies,  commence,  to  which  I  have  received  a  ticket 
through  Prince  Basil  Dolgorouki,  a  gentleman  whom  I  don't 
know  by  sight,  but  whom  I  shall  investigate  next  Tuesday ; 
and  there  is  another  on  Thursday  at  the  Countess  Woronzow's, 
the  wife  of  the  Grand  Master  of  Ceremonies,  who,  as  his  title 
indicates,  is  a  grand  and  rich  seigneur.  She  is  a  pretty, 
graceful  woman,  very  much  admired  at  St.  Petersburg,  and 
has  a  very  splendid  house,  where  she  gives  balls  once  a 
fortnight.  I  was  there  at  the  last  one.  The  party  was 
given  in  the  "  small  rooms "  of  the  house,  consisting  of  a 
suite  of  six,  averaging  about  thirty  feet  each  in  size,  of  great 
height,  with  the  ceilings  all  painted  in  fresco  and  encrusted 
in  gold.  The  principal  rooms  on  the  lower  floor  were  not 
opened. 

The  prettiest  house  I  have  yet  visited  is  that  of  Count 
Levachofi",  whither  we  went  to  a  ball  a  few  nights  ago,  and  of 
which  I  will  now  send  you  the  last  of  my  upholsterer's  descrip- 


92  MOTLEY'S  LETTEES.  [Chap.  IV. 

tions.  We  entered  through  a  small  vestibule  with  the  usual 
arrangement  of  treble  doors,  padded  with  leather  to  exclude 
the  cold,  and  guarded  by  the  "  proud  young  porters  "  in  severe 
cocked  hats  and  formidable  batons,  into  a  broad  hall,  threw 
oS  our  furred  boots  and  cloaks,  ascended  a  carpeted  marble 
staircase,  in  every  angle  of  which  stood  a  statuesque  footman 
in  gaudy  coat  and  unblemished  unmentionables,  and  reached 
a  broad  landing  upon  the  top,  thronged  as  usual  with  servants. 
Thence  we  passed  through  an  ante-chamber  into  a  long,  high, 
brilliantly  lighted,  saffron-papered  room,  in  which  a  dozen 
card-tables  were  arranged,  and  thence  into  the  receiving-room. 
This  was  a  large  room  with  a  splendidly  inlaid  and  polished 
floor,  the  walls  covered  with  crimson  satin,  the  cornices  heavily 
encrusted  with  gold,  and  the  ceiling  beautifully  painted  in  ara- 
besque. The  massive  fauteuils  and  sofas,  as  also  the  drapery, 
were  of  crimson  satin  with  profusion  of  gilding.  The  ubiqui- 
tous portrait  of  the  Emperor  was  the  only  picture,  and  was 
the  same  you  see  everywhere.  This  crimson  room  had  two 
doors  upon  the  side  facing  the  windows.  The  innermost 
opened  into  a  large  supper-room,  in  which  a  table  was  spread 
covered  with  the  usual  refreshments  of  European  parties,  tea, 
ices,  lemonade  and  etceteras,  and  the  other  opened  into  a  ball- 
room, which  is  a  sort  of  miniature  of  the  Salle  Blanche  of 
the  Winter  Palace,  being  white  and  gold,  and  very  brilliantly 
lighted  with  ormolu  chandeliers  filled  with  myriads  of  candles. 
This  room  (at  least  forty  feet  long  by  perhaps  twenty-five) 
opened  into  a  carpeted  conservatory  filled  with  orange  trees 
and  japonica  plants,  covered  with  fruit  and  flowers,  arranged 
very  gracefully  into  arbours,  with  luxurious  seats  under  the 
pendent  boughs,  and  with  here  and  there  a  pretty  marble 
statue  gleaming  through  the  green  and  glossy  leaves.  One 
might  have  almost  imagined  oneself  in  "the  cypress  and 
myrtle,"  instead  of  our  actual  whereabout  upon  the  polar 
banks  of  the  l^jf  eva. 

Wandering  \through  these  mimic  groves,  or  reposing  from 
the  fatigues  of  "^he  dance,  was  many  a  fair  and  graceful  form, 
while  the  brilliantly  lighted  ball-room,  filled  with  hundreds 
of  exquisitely  dressed  women  (for  the  Eussian  ladies,  if  not 


I 


1841.]  TAQLIONI.  93 

very  pretty,  are  graceful  and  make  admirable  toilettes),  formed 
a  dazzling  contrast  with  the  tempered  light  of  the  Winter 
Garden.  The  conservatory  opened  into  a  library,  and  from 
the  library  you  reach  the  ante-chamber,  thus  completing  the 
giro  of  one  of  the  prettiest  houses  in  St.  Petersburg.  I  waltzed 
one  waltz,  and  quadrilled  one  quadrille,  but  it  was  hard  work ; 
and  as  the  sole  occupation  of  these  parties  is  dancing  or  card- 
playing,  conversation  apparently  not  being  customary,  they 
are  not  to  me  very  attractive.  The  lady  of  the  house  and  her 
daughters  are  nice  people,  and  so  are  some  of  the  guests. 
But  Russian  society  to  a  stranger  is  freezing  and  formal,  and 
it  seems  to  me  to  a  person  of  my  reserved  habits  it  would  take 
a  great  deal  longer  to  become  intimate  here  than  to  thaw  the 
Baltic. 

One  of  my  acquaintances  here  is  Miss  Porter,  the  authoress 
of '  Thaddeus  of  Warsaw.'  She  is  staying  here  this  winter  with 
her  brother,  Sir  Robert  Ker  Porter,  who  is  British  Minister  at 
Venezuela.  She  is  a  very  agreeable,  sensible  person,  and  so  is 
he.  He  was  aide-de-camp  to  Sir  John  Moore  at  the  battle  of 
Corunna,  and  has  been  seventeen  years  in  South  America. 
I  like  them  both,  for  there  is  something  frank  and  expansive 
about  them,  which  is  refreshing  after  these  frigid  and  rigid 
Russians. 

Last  night  I  went  to  see  Taglioni  in  a  new  ballet.  The 
subject  seemed  to  be  something  about  Montezuma  and  the 
Spaniards ;  but  the  play-bills  are  in  Russian,  "fend  pantomime 
is  panto-Hebrew  to  me,  so  that  I  don't  know  the  name,  and 
could  only  guess  at  the  subject.  I  have  seen  her  a  good  many 
times,  and  Mary  will  never  forgive  me  when  I  say  that  she 
is  decidedly  more  graceful  and  a  better  dancer  than  Fanny 
EUsler.  Nothing  can  equal  her  swimming,  sweeping,  whirl- 
ing, floating  motion ;  her  dancing  is  a  perfect  abstraction  or 
emanation.  Ellsler  has  more  espieglerie,  is  prettier,  dances 
with  more  elasticity  and  power,  and  I  dare  say  excels  her  in 
pantomime — which  I  hate  and  don't  understand — but  she  is 
not  so  graceful  as  Taglioni.  The  charm  of  Taglioni's  dancing  is 
its  absolute  freedom  from  effort.  Her  most  difficult  steps  and 
postures  seem  to  produce  themselves  without  any  volition  of 


94  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  IV. 

her  own,  and  the  most  graceful,  and  in  reality  the  most 
elaborate  movements,  seem  as  artless  as  those  of  a  "three- 
years'  child." 

Ever  your  affectionate  son, 

J.  L.  M. 


To  his  Wife. 

St.  Petersburg, 
January  lOih,  1842. 

My  dearest  Mary, — The  English  courier  goes  to-morrow, 
and  you  will  not  be  surprised  nor  disappointed,  I  hope,  to  hear 
that  I  have  already  written  to  Fletcher  Webster,  announcing 
my  resignation.  I  have  had  a  talk  with  Colonel  Todd,  and  he 
has  consented  that  I  should  leave  whenever  it  suits  my  conve- 
nience. As  there  is  not  an  earthly  thing  to  do  at  the  Legation, 
I  have  no  hesitation  in  resigning  a  sinecure  whenever  I  please, 
and,  as  the  Minister  has  made  no  objection,  I  shall  leave  this 
some  time  in  March. 

I  shall  leave  this  in  March  for  Berlin,  go  to  Hamburg,  and 
from  there  to  the  Netherlands,  where  I  wish  to  pass  a  few 
weeks,  and  then,  if  you  decide  to  remain  at  home,  I  shall 
cross  to  England,  and  take  passage  about  the  end  of  May  for 
Boston. 

Todd  has  been  perfectly  kind  and  considerate  towards  me 
ever  since  we  have  been  here,  and  I  have  stated  this  in  my 
letter  to  Webster  explicitly,  mentioning  that  we  have  never 
had  a  word  of  difference  on  any  subject,  and  that  therefore  my 
reasons  for  leaving  were  unconnected  with  any  disagreement 
with  him. 

I  dined  a  week  ago  at  the  British  Ambassador's,  and  two  days 
ag«^  at  Sir  James  Wylie's,  where  there  was  a  large  and  pleasant 
conipany.  The  Prussian  Minister,  the  English,  and  several 
othe*  notables  were  present.  Count  Nesselrode  was  to  have 
been  mere,  but  received  orders  to  dine  with  the  Emperor  on 
the  same  day.  I  don't  know  whether  I  have  ever  described  to 
you  the\great  bureaucrat  of  the  great  autocrat.  He  is  a  small 
man,  with  a  hooked  nose  and  spectacles,  of  affable  and  supple 


r 


1842.]  NEBSELRODE— SIR  W.  WYLIE.  95 

manners,  and  apparently  gifted  with  ubiquity,  for  I  have 
seldom  been  where  he  was  not.  I  have  been  honoured  by 
several  short  interviews  with  him,  and  I  regret  that  I  did  not 
take  down  his  conversation  in  shorthand,  that  I  might  transmit 
it  to  you.  The  topics  have  usually  been  the  state  of  the 
weather,  the  heat  of  the  rooms,  and  a  comparative  view  of  the 
state  of  the  thermometer  this  year  and  this  time  last  year. 
Upon  all  these  subjects  of  general  and  exciting  interest  he 
seemed  full  of  general  information,  and  delivered  his  opinions 
with  decision,  and  at  the  same  time  with  a  frankness  hardly  to 
have  been  expected  of  a  man  so  deeply  versed  in  the  wiles  of 
diplomacy. 

Sir  William  Wylie  is  a  remarkable  man.     He  has  been  in 
the  Russian  service  fifty-two  years,  and  is  now  "  Inspecteur- 
General  du  Service  des  Armees,"  with  the  rank  of  Major- 
General,  having  emigrated  originally  from   Scotland  as  an 
apothecary's  apprentice,  I  believe.     He  is  a  hearty  old  gentle- 
man, upwards  of  seventy,  and  goes  out  bear-shooting  in  winter 
with  the  ardour  of  a  youth.     There  has  been  nothing  at  Court 
since  last  I  wrote.    The  day  after  to-morrow  is  the  Russian 
New  Year's  Day,  and  we  are  bidden  to  what  is  called  a  cercle 
at  the  Palace,  which   is  a  showy,  formal,  and  most  insipid 
ceremony.     There  is  to  be  a  ball  the  same  night  at  Count 
Woronzow's;  but  I  believe  there  are  to  be  no  more  at  the 
Palace  this  winter,  of  which  I  am  very  glad.     I  have  been 
driving  round  occasionally  in  my  sledge  to  look  at  some  of 
the  churches,  in  the  hopes  of  seeing  something  worth  de- 
-  scribing  to  you.     Some  of  these,  with  their  graceful  cupolas 
and  clusters  of  turbaned  minarets  of  green  and  gold,  have 
a  pretty,  fantastic  effect  on  the  outside,  but  internally  they 
are  mostly  bare  and  barren.     I  havo  been  young  lady  enough 
to  keep  a  journal  (for  your  amusement  when  I  return) ;  but  on 
looking  over  it  I  find  it  to  be  so  meagre  and  so  impregnated 
with  my  own  dulness  that  I  fear  to  communicate  a  portion  of 
it  to  you  if  I  transcribe  from  it,  and,  after  all,  there  is  nothing 
worth  transcribing. 

There  are  no  fine  buildings  here,  although  there  are  many 
large  and  showy  ones,  and  the  architectural  effects  of  some 


96  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  IV. 

of  the  streets  and  squares  are  very  imposing  from  their  vast- 
ness  and  regularity.  The  best  thing  in  St.  Petersburg  is 
the  statue  of  Peter  the  Great.  This,  in  my  opinion,  is  the 
finest  equestrian  statue  in  Europe.  There  is  something  un- 
commonly spirited  and  striking  in  the  action  of  the  horse 
and  the  pose  of  its  rider.  He  waves  his  hands  as  if,  Scan- 
dinavian wizard  as  he  was,  he  had  just  caused  this  vast 
collection  of  palaces  and  temples,  this  mighty  swarming  city, 
to  rise  like  an  exhalation  from  the  frozen  swamps  of  the  Neva 
with  one  wave  of  his  hand.  Peter  the  Great  was  a  great  man 
unquestionably.  He  was  addicted  to  drinking,  murdering  his 
son,  beating  his  Prime  Minister,  and  a  few  other  foibles,  to  be 
sure,  but  still  he  was  a  wonderful  man.  He  alone  raised 
Russia  out  of  the  quagmire  of  barbarism,  just  as  he  raised 
St.  Petersburg  out  of  the  morass;  but  it  seems  to  me  that 
just  as  this  city  may  at  any  moment,  by  six  hours  too  long 
continuance  of  a  south-west  wind,  be  inundated  and  swamped 
for  ever,  so  may  Russia  at  any  moment,  through  a  succession 
of  half-a-dozen  bad  Czars,  be  submerged  in  its  original  bar- 
barism. The  present  Emperor  is  unquestionably  a  man  of 
great  energy;  but  how  can  one  man  uphold  this  mass,  even 
in  the  state  of  crepuscular  civilisation  to  which  they  have 
reached?  What  is  really  admirable  in  the  construction  of 
St.  Petersburg  are  the  quays  and  walls  along  the  Neva  and 
the  canals.  These  are  all  of  granite,  of  great  extent  and 
most  massive  and  admirable  architecture,  and,  with  the  many 
bridges  of  the  same  material,  are  really  Cyclopean  works,  and 
worth  all  the  gilt  gingerbread  of  all  these  stucco  streets  and 
palaces.  These  latter,  compared  to  the  marble  halls  of  Venice, 
Florence,  and  Rome,  are  most  tawdry  and  insignificant,  although 
of  great  size,  and  ornamented,  like  Job  Johnson's  coat,  with 
the  most  lordly  indifference  as  to  taste  and  expense. 

Your  own 

J.  L.  M. 


1812.]         PUBLIC  INSTITUTIONS  OF  ST.  PETERSBURG.  97 

To  his  Wife. 

St.  Petersburg, 
February  6th,  1842. 

My  dearest  IMary, — I  shall  take  this  letter  as  far  as 
Berlin  myself.  My  previous  letters  will  have  prepared  you 
for  hearing  that  I  am  now  upon  the  point  of  leaving  St. 
Petersburg.  A  good  opportunity  has  presented  itself,  which 
I  should  make  a  mistake  not  to  seize. 

I  have  been  to  half-a-dozen  parties  and  a  dinner  or  two 
since  I  wrote ;  but  as  I  have  already  described  the  general 
appearance  of  St.  Petersburg  balls  in  my  letters,  I  have  really 
nothing  to  add  about  them.     There  was  to  have  been  a  great 

ball  at  Princess  B 's  two  or  three  nights  ago,  given  to  the 

Empress ;  but  just  as  we  were  dressing,  we  received  notice, 
that  in  consequence  of  the  death  of  a  near  relation  of  the 
Princess,  the  ball  was  put  off  for  nine  days,  so  that  I  shall  not 
have  the  honour  of  assisting  at  it.  I  have  likewise  been  going 
the  rounds  of  the  various  public  institutions  and  things — 
hospitals,  for  instance,  which  are  admirably  arranged  in  every 
respect  as  far  as  meets  the  eye,  although  I  hear  great  com- 
plaints about  the  insufficiency  of  the  attendance  upon  the 
jjatients.  To  give  you  an  idea  of  the  character  of  the  climate, 
there  are  50,000  beds  in  all  the  hospitals  for  a  population  of 
about  475,000,  and  yet  there  are  not  nearly  enough,  and  it 
is  with  great  difficulty  that  a  sick  person  can  obtain  a  place. 

I  have  also  visited  the  Academies  of  Sciences  and  Arts,  the 
Mining  School,  the  Engineer  Corps ;  some  of  their  factories 
of  cotton,  linen,  playing  cards,  etc.,  etc. ;  the  picture  gallery 
of  the  Hermitage,  which  is  very  rich  in  Flemish  paintings, 
containing  the  best  collection  of  Wouvermanns  and  Teniers 
that  I  have  ever  seen ;  the  great  Foundling  Hospital,  which 
has  in  its  capacious  nurseries  18,000  children,  wliich  is,  how- 
ever, not  much  more  than  half  the  amount  of  those  in  the 
Moscow  institution,  which  numbers  30,000.  Understand,  how- 
ever, that  these  immense  numbers  are  not  all  in  the  building 
itself.  •  The  St.  Petersburg  Hospital  contains  accommodation 
for  1000  infants  and  1000  nurses,  for  each  infant  is  provided 

VOL  I.  H 


98  MOTLEY'S  LETTEES.  [Chap.  IV. 

witli  a  nurse.  This  building  is  the  receiving  house,  and  it 
receives  to  the  tune  of  7000  infants  per  annum.  We  met  two 
well-dressed  women  bringing  in  each  a  baby  as  coolly  as  a 
bundle,  and  depositing  it  without  any  mystery  in  the  porter's 
lodge.  The  infants  are  kept  six  weeks  or  so  in  the  building, 
and  then  sent  with  the  nurses  to  the  country,  where  they  are 
brought  up  and  apprenticed  as  they  become  old  enough  to 
different  trades.  A  great  many  of  them  find  their  way  to  the 
Alexandroffsky  Imperial  factory,  where  they  are  supported, 
and  receive  trifling  wages  besides.  From  a  third  to  a  half  of 
the  whole  number,  however,  die  in  infancy. 

Monday,  February  7th. — I  have  just  returned  from  an  un- 
successful expedition  to  Casimir  Perier's,  the  French  Charge 
d' Affaires.  I  was  invited  to  a  soiree  musicale  there,  to  hear 
Chinti  Damoreau  sing ;  but  the  father  of  Vicomte  Ferronays 
(attached  to  the  Embassy)  was  just  dead,  and  the  soiree  deferred^ 

There  was  also  to  have  been  a  ball  at  Madame  B 's,  also 

given  to  the  Empress,  but  that  also  has  been  deferred,  owing 
to  sickness  or  death  of  somebody.  It  really  seems  to  me  that 
I  carry  destruction  and  devastation  wherever  I  go.  So  sure 
as  I  dress  myself  to  go  to  a  party,  somebody  or  other  makes 
a  j)oint  of  dying.     This  is  the  third  case  Avithin  three  days. 

Speaking  of  Casimir  Perier,  I  daresay  you  have  not  taken 
the  trouble  to  read  in  the  newspapers  the  farcical  quarrel 
between  the  Courts  of  France  and  Russia,  which  has  furnished 
the  main  topic  of  conversation  lately  in  this  place.  Count 
Pahlen,  the  Russian  Ambassador  at  Paris,  left  his  post  un- 
questionably to  avoid  making  the  speech  to  the  King  on  New 
Year's  day — a  duty  which  devolved  upon  him  as  senior  ambas- 
sador. Louis  Philippe  retorts  by  ordering  his  Charge  (the 
Ambassador  being  already  away  on  leave)  to  be  taken  ill  upon 
the  day  of  the  Emperor's  fete  (or  day  distinguished  both  as  the 
name's-day  of  the  Czar  and  the  epoch  of  my  presentation),  but 
at  the  same  time  to  exhibit  his  convalescence  immediately  after- 
wards in  the  most  public  manner.  Accordingly,  Perier  abstains 
from  the  Court  circle  on  the  plea  of  indisposition,  and  the  next 
day  appears  in  the  Nevskoi  Prospect,  and  the  same  evening  at 
the  theatre.    The  Czar,  in  a  great  huff,  immediately  despatches 


1842.]  A  DIPLOMATIC  SQUABBLE.  99 

a  courier  to  Mr.  Kisseleff,  Russian  ChargS  at  Paris,  ordering 
him  to  be  immediately  taken  ill,  in  order  not  to  go  to  Court  on 
New  Year's  Day.  ]\Ir.  Kisseleff  accordingly  excuses  himself 
and  his  aunt  at  the  same  time ;  makes  his  appearance  at  various 
salons,  announcing  himself  "  indispose  par  ordre."  This  com- 
pletes the  first  act  of  the  farce.  The  second  act  opens  at  St. 
Petersburg,  with  the  countermanding  of  the  Court  circle  on 
the  Russian  New  Year's  Day,  which  luckily  for  the  successful 
development  of  these  operations  is  twelve  days  later  than  that 
of  the  rest  of  Christendom,  and  with  the  appearance  of  the 
French  Charge  at  the  Court  ball  on  the  following  evening. 
The  Court  circle  was  (probably)  postponed  because  the  Emperor 
would  at  that  ceremony  have  been  obliged  to  converse  with 
Perier,  while  at  the  ball  he  was  able  to  cut  him  in  the  sublimest 
manner.  The  act  closes  with  the  appearance  of  the  Russian  at 
a  Court  ball  at  Paris ;  the  reconciliation  is,  superficially  at 
least,  effected,  and  the  curtain  falls.  The  whole  thing,  however, 
is  chiefly  interesting  in  so  far  as  it  illustrates  the  character  of 
Russian  society.  Since  the  beginning  of  the  affair,  the  whole 
St.  Petersburg  nobility  have  discontinued  all  intercourse  with 
Perier.  Dinners,  etc.,  were  countermanded,  because  he  hap- 
pened to  have  been  invited  before  the  plot  was  discovered,  and 
their  whole  course  displays  the  entire  and  abject  dependence 
of  the  whole  fabric  of  society  as  well  as  of  government  upon 
the  will  of  the  Czar. 

Yours  ever, 
J.  L.  M. 


To  his  Wife. 

Berlin, 
February  IWt,  1842. 

My  dearest  Mary, — I  am  going  to  open  the  letter  which  I 
wrote  just  before  leaving  St.  Petersburg,  in  order  to  slir  in  this 
note.  I  have  but  half  a  moment's  time  in  this  apology  for  a 
letter  to  tell  you  that  I  left  St.  Petersburg  on  the  8th,  and 
reached  here  last  night  at  eleven  o'clock.  I  travelled  with 
Colonel  Townley,  the  English  messenger.  He  has  a  comfort- 
able carriage,  and  as  we  had  most  singularly  fine  weather,  and 

H  2 


100  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  IV. 

still  more  extraordinary  fine  roads,  with  hard,  frozen  rivers,  we 
made  the  journey  of  1200  miles  in  exactly  six  days  and  six 
nights,  not  having  stopped  at  all  on  the  road. 

This  is  very  good  travelling,  and  although  this  is  a  pretty 
long  journey,  yet  by  far  the  worst  part  of  my  journey  to  Paris 
is  over,  and  the  consciousness  of  being  1200  miles  nearer  to 
you,  dearest,  makes  me  feel  quite  happy.  I  shall  leave  Berlin 
by  the  railroad  by  Leipzig  to-morrow,  I  think,  but  possibly 
may  be  obliged  to  stop  till  the  next  day ;  thence  I  go  to 
Weimar,  where  I  shall  probably  stop  a  day ;  thence  to  Frank- 
fort and  Paris. 

I  have  been  fortunate  in  my  travelling  companions  over  the 
dreary  and  monotonous  route  I  have  just  finished. 

Townley  is  a  frank,  amiable,  and  agreeable  fellow  as  ever 
was  ;  and  by  the  way,  in  your  last  letter,  you  asked  me  about 
Elliot,  who  was  my  companion  on  my  first  journey.  He  is  a 
very  nice  fellow  indeed,  manly,  unaffected  and  intelligent,  and 
if  it  had  not  been  for  the  immense  distances  at  St.  Petersburg 
and  the  shortness  of  the  days,  which  altogether  make  all  social 
intercourse  such  a  labour,  I  should  have  found  the  three 
months  hang  less  heavily.  He  was  at  my  lodgings  just  before 
he  went  away,  and  quite  without  any  request  on  my  part, 
offered  me  letters  of  introduction  to  his  family,  which  the  next 
day  he  brought,  namely,  one  to  his  brother.  Lord  Melgund ;  one 
to  his  sister.  Lady  John  Kussell ;  and  another  to  a  friend  of  his 
in  Paris,  attache  of  the  Embassy,  Mr.  Howard,  brother  of  Lord 
Morpeth.  These  letters  I  shall  deliver,  if  I  can  be  in  London 
long  enough  to  make  it  an  object. 


To  his  Wife. 


Paris, 
February  11th,  1842. 


I  am  very  glad  to  find,  my  dearest  Mary,  from  the  tone  of 
your  letters  which  I  had  the  happiness  of  receiving  on  my 
arrival  here,  that  you  will  not  be  dissatisfied  or  disappointed  at 
the  step  I  have  taken,  or  rather  stride,  from  St.  Petersburg  to 
Paris.     But  as  1  have  nothing  very  interesting  to  tell  you  of 


1842.]  "A  QUIZZICAL  GERMAN  TOWN."  101 

this  place,  where  I  only  arrived  day  before  yesterday,  I  may  as 
well  tell  you  how  I  j^ot  hero.  My  last  letter  was  from  Berlin. 
I  stayed  there  two  days,  and  went  by  railroad  to  Halle.  At 
Halle,  where  I  arrived  at  5  p.m.,  I  found  by  some  ingenious 
blundering  upon  my  part  that  I  was  obliged  to  stop  till  the 
next  afternoon.  However,  I  did  not  object  to  wandering  about 
once  more  in  one  of  the  most  quizzical  of  old-fashioned  towns 
of  quizzical  Germany. 

I  had  never  happened  to  pass  through  Halle  before,  although 
I  have  seen  hundreds  of  just  such  towns ;  and  it  was  amusing 
enough  to  poke  about  through  those  narrow,  tortuous,  entangled 
streets,  which  look  as  if  laid  out  by  an  ignis  faiuus,  and  look 
up  at  the  tall,  toppling,  crazy  old  houses,  crowned  with  gables 
like  cocked  hats,  reeling  against  each  other  till  their  heads 
knock  together,  looking  like  rows  of  tipsy  spectres,  although 
this  was  an  amusement  which  would  have  been  soon  exhausted. 
The  Square  of  Halle,  with  its  fountain  guarded  by  two  grim 
lions  in  the  centre,  a  clumsy  and  most  Gothic  statue  of  a  non- 
descript French  Prince  Koland  made  of  painted  stone  stuck 
up  on  one  side ;  its  fine  old  church  with  its  needle  spires  and 
weather-beaten  towers,  whose  bells  have  rung  out  many  an 
alarm  in  the  days  of  Tilly  and  Walleustein ;  the  rickety  old 
Eath-Haus,  its  narrow  thread-like  streets  (arteries  almost  too 
slender  even  for  the  slow  and  torpid  circulation  of  its  popula- 
tion) emptying  themselves  at  all  corners  into  the  great  Square, 
is  just  such  an  old-fashioned  Gothic  picture  as  I  like  occasion- 
ally to  look  upon. 

In  the  evening  I  ordered  dinner,  and  was  regaled  with  a 
sumptuous  repast,  which  was  so  perfectly  German  that  I  will 
describe  it  to  you  exactly.  It  would  be  easy  by  borrowing  a 
little  from  the  imagination  to  concoct  a  much  more  absurd 
description;  but  I  give  it  you  literally  and  unembellished. 
First,  soup,  of  course ;  then  course  first,  beefsteak  and  fried 
potatoes ;  then  course  second,  boiled  pork  and  cabbage ;  then 
course  third,  slices  of  sausage  swimming  in  a  sad-coloured 
sauce,  sprinkled  with  capers  and  thickened  with  flour  to  "  make 
the  mixture  slab  and  good  " ;  then  course  fourth,  roast  venison 
with  a  sauce  of  stewed  gooseberries  and  a  salad  of  water-cresses ; 


102  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  IV. 

then  a  piece  of  cake  with  four  apples,  then  bread  and  butter 
and  three  kinds  of  pestilential  and  uneatable  cheese,  the  whole 
irrigated  with  a  pint  of  Medoc  and  concluded  with  a  tumbler 
of  wooden  toothpicks. 

In  the  morning,  to  kill  the  time,  I  engaged  an  ingenuous 
youth  as  a  valet  de  place,  and  began  grubbing  up  the  anti- 
quities. I  went  first  to  the  Moritz  Burg,  or  Maurice's  Castle. 
This  is  a  mixed  fastness  of  which  the  guide  related  to  me  this 
legend : — Prince  Maurice  (of  some  Saxon  House  or  other,  he 
did  not  know  which)  laid  a  bet  with  his  sister  that  he  would 
build  a  church,  now  existing,  and  called  the  Maurice  Church, 
in  less  time  than  she  could  build  a  castle.  They  set  to  work 
accordingly,  but  the  sister  gave  two  hellers  a  day  to  the  work- 
men and  he  but  one,  and  so  she  finished  her  castle  soonest. 
Whereupon  Prince  Maurice  was  wroth  and  very  naturally 
murdered  her.  The  ghost  may  be  seen  at  any  time  by  apply- 
ing at  the  ruins  of  the  castle.  The  Burg  is  a  grey  old  ruin 
with  swallows'  nests  in  the  heavy  muUioned  windows  and  fruit 
trees  in  the  fosse.  The  remains  of  the  chapel  are  picturesque, 
and  the  view  from  the  rampart  over  the  boundless  plains  of 
Saxony  is  rather  striking.  The  vault  under  the  castle,  and 
which  extends  under  a  greater  part  of  the  town,  is  occupied  as 
a  storage  place  by  a  respectable  manufacturer,  who  will  be 
happy  to  furnish  you  with  any  quantity  of  starch  at  reasonable 
prices.  In  the  interior  of  the  Maurice  Church,  which,  like  all 
the  churches  in  Protestant  Germany,  has  been  stripped  of  its 
monuments  and  escutcheons,  there  is  nothing  of  interest  except 
a  quaint  painted  old  statue  of  the  desperate  Maurice.  He 
appears,  if  his  portrait  be  correct,  to  have  been  a  short  duck- 
legged  man,  with  the  grimmest  of  beards,  and  is  represented 
with  a  girdle  of  bells  about  his  waist ;  which  he  is  said  to  have 
always  worn  during  his  architectural  operations,  to  apprise  the 
workmen  of  his,  coming  that  they  might  be  diligent. 

It  was  certaiiily  good-natured  of  the  cat  to  bell  himself,  and 
he  must  have  been  an  excellent  person  after  all.  He  was 
called  "  Schellen  ii^oritz,"  or  Maurice  with  the  bells,  in  conse- 
quence of  this  part  of  his  costume. 

At  2  P.M.  I  left  in  the  diligence  and  reached  Weimar  the 


I 


1842.]  WKIMAU  AND  ITS  SOCIETY.  103 

next  morning  at  daybroak.  In  spito  of  tlic  railroads,  upon 
>vhicli  one  gets  an  occasional  lift,  travelling  in  Germany  by 
the  public  conveyances  is  exceedingly  slow  and  disagreeable. 
The  German  world,  like  the  ancient  world,  rests  still  upon  the 
back  of  the  tortoise.  You  must  travel  day  and  night  as  a 
matter  of  course,  the  diligences  are  carefully  constructed  to 
prevent  you  seeing  anything,  and  to  pass  night  after  night 
pent  up  with  six  frowzy  travellers  who  will  have  the  windows 
shut,  is  anything  but  exhilarating.  Still  "  'tis  not  quite  so  bad 
as  going  to  sea,"  and  that  is  the  best  that  can  be  said  about  it. 
I  went  by  way  of  Weimar  to  see  Madame  de  Goethe.  She 
was  glad  to  see  me,  and  the  two  days  I  passed  in  Weimar  were 
spent  principally  at  her  house.  She  is  the  same  lively,  agree- 
able and  intelligent  person  that  she  was  eight  years  ago ;  but 
she  has  grown  much  older,  her  hair  is  entirely  grey,  and  I  fear 
she  is  in  a  decline.^  She  thinks  so  herself,  and  is  going 
to  Italy  in  the  spring.  Her  sons  are  neither  of  them  in 
Weimar.  I  gave  her  my  article  on  Goethe,  which  she  read  and 
was  pleased  with ;  but  I  refused  to  tell  her  even  the  name  of 
my  unfortunate  novel,  of  which  she  had  heard  and  about  which 
she  was  curious.  I  also  passed  an  evening  with  my  old  acquaint- 
ance Mr.  de  Froriep,  and  another  at  Madame  de  M 's,  a 

pretty  little  woman.  Her  husband  is  the  Eussian  Charge  at 
Weimar,  and  brother  to  the  one  who  married  William  Lee's 
sister,  who  is  Charge  at  the  Hague.  Mr.  Froriep  wished  me  to 
go  and  see  the  Grand  Duke  ;  but  I  thought  it  not  worth  while 
to  go  through  the  presentation  as  I  was  going  away  im- 
mediately. Weimar  is  not  what  it  was  in  the  old  Duke's 
time,  a  little  Athens  inhabited  by  all  the  most  illustrious 
literati  of  Germany.  Of  that  splendid  army  of  genius,  the 
coffins  of  Goethe  and  Schiller  are  all  that  remain. 

I  left  Weimar  with  regret,  and  proceeded  by  way  of  Erfurt, 
Gotha,  Eisenach,  Fulda,  etc.,  to  Frankfort-on -the-Main.  The 
road  is  pretty,  and  the  weather  was  delightful,  the  last  patches 
of  the  winter's  snow  melting  rapidly  in  the  sunshine.  In  fact, 
the  weather  has  been  as  mild  in  Northern  Europe  as  by  your 
letter  it  seems  to  have  been  with  you,  and  while  south  of  the 
'  She  was  liying  at  Vienna  in  1861  when  Mr.  Motley  arrived  there  as  Minister. 


104  MOTLEY'S  LETTEES.  [Chap.  IV. 

Alps  I  hear  this  winter  has  been  unusually  severe.  I  passed  a 
day  and  night  at  Frankfort.  Having  nothing  to  do  I  tied 
myself  to  the  heels  of  a  valet  de  place  and  allowed  myself  to 
be  dragged  through  the  town.  I  looked  at  Goethe's  house  and 
at  the  Ariadne,  a  celebrated  statue  by  Danneker.  It  is  spirited 
certainly ;  but  it  is  not  so  fine  as  I  thought  it  was  when  I  first 
saw  it  eight  or  nine  years  ago.  I  went  to  the  square  in  the 
heart  of  the  old  town  called  the  Romerberg,  which  is  one  of 
the  most  picturesque  places  in  Germany.  Gable  ends  are  my 
Aveakness ;  but  I  spare  you  any  further  descriptions  after  what 
I  have  given  you,  although  the  Eomerberg  in  Frankfort  is  far 
Avorthier  being  described  than  the  market  of  Halle.  It  was 
across  this  square  that  the  Emperor  and  his  train  walked  after 
the  coronation  had  taken  place  in  the  Cathedral,  a  few  yards- 
off,  to  the  Rath  Haus,  where  a  great  banquet  was  provided  for 
the  courtiers,  while  an  ox  roasted  whole  in  the  square,  and  the 
fountain  in  the  centre  spouted  red  and  white  wine  for  the 
populace.  The  old  dining-hall  contains  portraits  of  all  the 
Emperors  of  Germany,  and  it  is  singular  that  the  picture  of 
Francis  II.,  who  was  the  last  Holy  Roman  Emperor  of  Germany,, 
occupies  the  very  last  space  that  was  left.  In  the  old  Cathe- 
dral is  a  clock  placed  there  in  the  year  1470,  which  is  a. 
model  of  time-keeping  to  this  day.  I  looked  with  something: 
like  awe  at  the  grim  face  of  this  venerable  chronometer,  whose 
pendulum  had  thus  been  swaying  for  near  four  centuries,  and 
whose  pulses  were  beating  their  loud  and  healthful  music  over 
the  escutcheoned  tombs  of  the  devout  Barons  who  are  recorded 
as  having  placed  it  in  the  cathedral,  and  who  were  ashes  before 
the  country  of  the  respected  individual  who  has  been  tramp- 
ling upon  their  graves  had  been  discovered.  A  part  of  the 
church  dates  from  Charlemagne,  the  rest  is  five  or  six 
centuries  later.  It  contains  a  few  crumbling  monuments  of 
families  long  since  extinct,  and  a  picture  by  Albert  Diirer. 

The  next  morning  I  packed  myself  up  in  the  malle  posU 
which  transported  me  first  by  railroad  to  Mayence,  where  I 
crossed  the  Rhinex  and  proceeded  by  way  of  Forbach,  Metz.. 
Chalons-sur-Marne,  etc.,  to  Paris.  On  crossing  the  Rhine,  I 
took  leave  of  frost  and  snow.     The  weather  here  in  Paris  is. 


1842.]  PARIS — GUIZOT — THIERS.  105 

spring  weather,  shower  and  sunshine,  capricious,  but  most 
(leli<^htful  after  the  death-liko  monotony  of  St.  Petersburg 
weather,  although  the  winter  there  has  been  milder  than  for 
forty  years  before. 

I  don't  know  exactly  what  my  plans  are  yet,  whether  I  shall 
stay  here  a  few  weeks  and  then  go  to  England,  or  go  there 
immediately.  I  begin  to  talk  seriously  of  returning  in  a  sail- 
ing ship.  I  am  rather  skittish,  to  say  the  truth,  with  regard  to 
the  steamers.  There  has  one  just  put  back  after  being  at  sea 
seventeen  days.  However,  I  shall  not  return  certainly  before 
April,  and  perhaps  not  till  the  middle  of  it,  so  I  have  time 
enough  to  consider. 


To  his  Wife. 

London, 
April  I5th,  1842. 

A  few  days  before  I  left  Paris  I  went  with  General  Cass  to 

me  of  Guizot's  soirees.     I  was  introduced  to  him,  and  "  huge 

jPlinlimmon  bowed  his  cloud-capped  head,"  but  said  nothing, 

|for  just  as  he  was  going  to  observe  that  the  weather  was  very 

2old  for  the  season,  somebody  else  was  announced  to  whom  he 

iras  obliged  to  repeat  his  bow,  and  upon  whom  he  probably 

jstowed   his  atmospheric   observation.      Guizot  has   a  fine 

[monastic   sort   of  face,   and  a   short   uncourtly  figure.     Un- 

jfortunately,  though  I  went  several  times  to  the  Chamber  of 

[Deputies,  I  did  not  hear  him  speak.    However,  on  one  occasion 

tl  heard  several  of  the  Ministers  speak,  besides  several  of  the 

)pposition. 

The  only  person,  however,  of  those  wiiom  I  heard  who  is 

Ireally  an  orator,  is  Thiers.     The  others  were  merely  lecturers 

[(Laplague,  Hermann,  Duchatel,  etc.),  who  take  their  speeches 

(apparently  written  out  in  full)  into  the  Tribune,  and  drone 

laway  like  preachers  in  a  pulpit.     But  Thiers  had  very  few 

[notes,   and   spoke   almost   without   recurring   to   them.     The 

subject  was  a  very  uninteresting  one  to  a  stranger,  being  a 

lebate  upon  the  project  of  a  new  law  for  the  assessment  of 


106  MOTLEY'S  LETTEES.  [Chap.  IV. 

direct  taxes,  submitted  by  a  membor  of  the  Opposition. 
Thiers  hopped  up  into  the  Tribune  after  a  recess,  rubbing  his 
hands  and  smirking  about  with  the  most  delicious  aplomb. 
The  House. would  not  come  to  order  for  a  great  while,  and  he 
looked  down  upon  them  with  the  most  provoking  sang-froid, 
while  the  President  was  ringing  his  bell  like  a  dustman,  and 
the  greffiers  (or  whatever  they  are  called)  were  bawling  "  En 
place.  Messieurs,  en  place  !  "  like  so  many  diligence  conductors. 
At  last,  when  oj-der  was  restored,  he  leaned  over  the  Tribune 
and  began  to  squeak,  not  to  speak ;  and  yet,  in  spite  of  his 
funny  voice,  every  word  that  he  said  was  distinctly  audible, 
and  his  style  was  so  fluent,  so  limpid,  and  so  logical,  his 
manners  so  assured  and  self-possessed,  that,  in  spite  of  the 
disadvantages  of  his  voice,  his  figure,  and  his  great  round 
spectacles,  which  give  him  the  appearance  of  a  small  screech 
owl,  I  thought  him  one  of  the  most  agreeable  speakers  I  had 
ever  heard.  The  Chamber  is  evidently  afraid  of  him  without 
respecting  him,  and  his  consummate  brass,  added  to  his  ready 
wit,  makes  every  one  of  his  speeches  gall  and  wormwood  to 
his  enemies. 

I  left  Paris  on  the  10th  April. 

Travelling  alone,  and  by  the  abominable  public  conveyances 
of  the  Continent,  is  such  a  tedious  business  that  I  gave  up  the 
regular  tour  through  the  Netherlands  which  I  had  at  first 
proposed,  and  contented  myself  with  taking  a  flying  look  at 
the  three  or  four  most  interesting  towns  in  Belgium.  The 
old  history  of  Belgium  is  so  picturesque,  the  towns  where  its 
most  striking  and  stirring  tragedies  were  enacted — Brussels, 
Antwerp,  Ghent,  Bruges — are  so  picturesque  with  the  cobweb 
tracery  of  their  architecture,  the  colossal  filigree  of  their  town 
halls,  the  transparent  and  fantastic  lace  work  of  their  cathe- 
drals, in  which  stone  looks  as  if  it  had  been  spun  by  spiders, 
the  elaborate  quaintness  of  their  old  burgher  palaces,  with 
their  gables  fashioned  like  Spanish  galley  sterns,  or  Jacob's 
ladders,  or  any  other  massive  whimsy,  and  all  in  such  ad- 
mirable keeping  with  the  turbulent  history  of  the  Hanseatic 
republics  gradually  changing  into  Spanish  provinces,  and  with 
the  showy  actors,  whose  portraits  painted  by  so  many  immortal 


1842.]  liliuSSKLS— VAN  EYCK.  107 

painters,  from  John  of  Bruges  to  Vandyke,  still  with  their 
[Mnnt  lace  ruffs  and  gold  chains  and  velvet  robes,  harmonizes 
so  well  with  the  scenery,  that  a  loitering  tour  made  at  one's 
raso  through  their  towns  might  be  a  very  pleasant  summer's 
iiuusement.  But  to  do  this  one  should  remain  long  enough 
u)  learn  something  of  the  history  of  the  towns  and  their 
monuments,  and  to  study  their  painters,  some  of  whom  are 
wonderful.  John  van  Eyck,  or  John  of  Bruges  as  he  was 
< -ailed,  was  the  inventor  of  oil  painting,  but  when  you  look  at 
his  pictures,  remembering  they  were  painted  nearly  a  hundred 
years  before  Pietro  Perugino,  the  invention  seems  like  a 
revelation.  His  colour  is  not  only  as  vivid  and  beautiful  as  if 
painted  yesterday,  but  it  really  seems  as  powerful  and  as  true 
IS  any  of  later  date.  His  flesh  is  almost  as  good  as  Vandyke's, 
and  although  there  is  of  course  great  stiffness  and  ignorance 
in  the  drawing,  yet  he  has  much  feeling,  much  sentiment  and 
ideality — ^more  than  the  earlier  Italians.  There  is  a  Madonna 
at  Ghent  by  his  brother,  Hubert  van  Eyck,  and  there  are  two 
or  three  heads  by  himself,  both  at  Ghent  and  at  Bruges,  which 
for  mere  sentiment  and  perception,  and  expression  of  the  ideal 
beautiful,  may  be  compared  with  the  works  of  Leonardo  da 
Vinci  and  even  Kaphael,  while  the  colouring  is  inferior  to  that 
of  scarcely  any  later  painter. 

I  went  from  Paris  to  Brussels,  swallowed  up,  like  Jonah  in 
the  whale's  belly,  in  the  interior  of  the  diligence,  and  of  course 
obliged  to  travel  day  and  night.  I  saw  nothing,  and  kno\\  ^ 
nothing  of  the  road.  I  got  to  Brussels  the  morning  of  the 
second  day.  The  next  morning  I  despatched  Brussels  in  the 
most  summary  manner,  throwing  myself  into  the  lion's  den 
with  the  vigour  of  a  Daniel.  I  left  Brussels  at  1  o'clock  the 
same  day  by  the  railroad  for  Bruges,  where  I  slept,  and  the 
next  day  I  executed  Bruges  and  Ghent  (a  few  miles  further 
on)  with  matchless  rapidity.  That  evening  I  went  to  Antwerp, 
and  the  next  morning  swallowed  the  cathedral  and  its  con- 
tents, the  town  hall,  the  church  of  St.  Paul  and  a  g-allery  of  five 
hundred  pictures  all  at  a  single  mouthful,  and  at  12  o'clock  noon 
of  the  same  day  found  myself  on  board  the  Antwerp  steamer 
for  London — delightful  and  improving  work,  travelling  against 


108  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  IV. 

time,  is  it  not  ?  I  reached  London  the  following  morning  at 
9  o'clock,  and  here  I  am,  wishing  I  could  annihilate  time  and 
space  and  find  myself  with  you.  I  shall  certainly  sail  in  the 
Patrick  Henry  from  Liverpool  25th  April,  and  hope  to  be 
not  much  more  than  thirty  days,  but  it  may  be  sixty,  you 
know.  Still  a  steamer  is  so  crowded  and  uncomfortable  that 
I  cannot  make  up  my  mind  to  put  myself  on  board  one  again. 
I  shall  leave  a  letter  for  you  to  go  by  the  steamer  of  the  4th 
May,  which  will  of  course  arrive  before. 

Ever  your  own 

J.  L.  M. 


Extract  from  Diary. 

St.  Petersburg,  November  28th,  1841. — Shopping  in  the 
Gostivoi  Dvor,  or  the  Great  Bazaar  or  market,  as  they  call 
it,  in  the  Nevskoi  Prospect.  This,  a  triangular,  two-storied, 
arcaded  building,  with  one  apex  or  angle  obliquely  striking 
the  Prospect,  and  one  running  along  the  side.  Three  hundred 
and  forty  shops  inside,  or  rather  booths  in  rows  one  above  the 
other.  Shops  are  like  cells ;  no  fire  being  allowed  in  them, 
the  shopkeepers  are  walking  about  in  the  arcade  wrapped  in 
their  furs.  As  you  walk  along,  every  one  ofiiciously  makes  a 
bow,  or  rather  salaam,  and  invites  you  to  enter  his  cell — to  be 
fleeced  most  unmercifully.  The  safest  way,  accordingly,  for 
a  stranger  is  to  take  a  shepherd  with  him,  in  the  shape  of  an 
interpreting  servant,  who  will  allo\A'  no  shears  to  be  applied 
to  you  but  his  own.  The  appearance  of  these  fellows  in  their 
caftans  and  caps,  moving  about  the  long  corridors  of  their 
bazaar,  and  popping  in  and  out  of  their  cells,  is  peculiar — 
a  combination  of  Mount  St.  Bernard  monastery  and  an 
American  penitentiary. 

Shaft  says  butter  is  about  equal  to  2  roubles  paper  at  present. 
The  pot  I  bought  to-day  cost  20  kopecks  copper,  equal  to  about 
6  kopecks  silver.  I  should  think  it  was  about  the  tenth  part  of 
a  pound,  but  will  inquire  the  next  time  I  send.  A  roll  of  bread, 
two  of  which  make  my  breakfast,  cost  1^  kopecks  silver.  Tea 
(which  comes  overland,  and  therefore  better  and  dearer  than 


ISH]  CHARACTERISTICS  OF  ST.  PETERSBURG.  109 

ours)  costs  from  100  rs.  R.  N.  down  to  9  or  10,  which  I 
pay,  and  somowliat  lower,  I  suppose.  Boef  is  about  3d.  English 
now.  Pork  4(1.  (because  the  Germans  eat  so  much  pork,  he 
says).  Veal  and  mutton,  sold  by  the  quarter,  dearer  in  pro- 
portion. Fowls  the  pair,  about  a  silver  rouble.  These  things 
all  dear  now,  because  they  have  to  be  brought  from  the  neigh- 
bourhood. In  the  winter  (which  it  should  be  now)  the  frozen 
things  are  brought  from  all  parts  of  the  empire  at  a  much 
cheaper  rate.  As  no  fire  nor  light  is  allowed  in  the  Gostivoi 
Dvor,  they  shut  up  at  dark,  which  is  now  about  3  p.m.  (I 
shave  by  candlelight  every  morning  about  nine).  The  doors 
are  first  locked ;  then  they  are  sealed  with  a  lump  of  shoe- 
maker's wax  and  an  impression,  for  the  Russian  burglars  are 
supposed  to  have  an  objection  to  breaking  seals — a  supersti- 
tion, unfortunately,  not  shared  by  their  superiors  at  the  post- 
oflfice ;  a  rope  is  then  run  along  the  outside  pillars  of  the 
arcade  to  prevent  the  drunken  from  falling  in,  and  a  dog  is 
then  turned  out  on  a  swivel  and  string  to  guard  the  whole. 
Imagine  an  English  burglar  being  stopped  by  shoemaker's 
wax  and  a  dog  on  a  swivel!  How  much  might  have  been 
saved  by  Gilbert,  Davis,  and  Palmer,  and  the  other  victims 
of  the  English  swell-mob  deputies,  if  superstition,  instead  of 
the  schoolmaster,  was  abroad  in  England  and  America.  The 
length  of  the  Gostivoi  Dvor  on  the  north  prospect  is  1015  feet. 

Thursday,     ^^'^_^        ^^ — ^  ^  ^  Take  a  long  solitary  walk, 
-^    December  9th  o  j  » 

nearly  the  length  of  the  Nevskoi,  as  far  as  the  bridge  where 
are  the  new  bronze  horses  by  Baron  Kloth.  They  are  very 
spirited,  though  faulty.  The  effect  is  good,  and  the  bridge  is 
splendid — the  pedestals  of  the  statues,  the  masonrj'-.  These 
bridges  are,  in  fact,  the  finest  things  in  St.  ^Eetersburg.  Call  to 
see  Mr.  G .  Long  Socratic  conversation  with  him,  I  cate- 
chising. Results :  First,  Very  difficult  to  obtain  any  informa- 
tion here.  Source  carefully  sealed  up.  He  has  tried  for  years 
to  obtain  an  account  of  the  annual  revenue  and  expenditure 
of  the  Empire,  the  source  whence  the  revenue  is  derived,  and 
the  way  it  goes.  By  paying  a  1000  rouble  bribe  to  some 
emplo7je  one  might  get  it,  but  the  Budget  is  not  published,  nor 


110  MOTLEY'S  LETTEES.  [Chap.  IV. 

to  be  got  at.  As  to  the  sources  of  tlie  revenue,  they  can  be 
conjectured,  though,  of  course,  neither  the  gross  nor  the 
relative  amount.  An  enormous  tariff  (protective  for  Eussian 
tobacco -growers,  sugar -refiners,  linen -makers,  cloth -makers, 
etc.)  upon  tobacco,  refined  sugar  .  .  .  must  defeat  itself  to  a 
degree,  and  lessen  the  consumption.  Still,  as  the  production 
of  articles  of  consumption  is  not  sufficient  for  the  demand,  the 
customs  must  still  furnish  a  large  amount  of  revenue.  There 
is  a  high  duty,  and  to  be  increased  (they  are  hammering  out 
a  new  tariff),  on  cotton  twist,  for  they  have  been  establishing 
cotton-mills  and  manufactures  in  this  neighbourhood,  which 
are  thriving,  and  the  quantity  of  cotton  and  twist  imported  is 
increasing.  High  duty  upon  tobacco,  sugar,  coffee,  linen, 
woollens  (teas?),  and  in  general,  I  should  think,  all  manu- 
factures ;  but  everything  is  taxed  in  Kussia  immensely. 

The  tax  paid  by  the  first  Guild  merchants  is  about  4000 
roubles  per  annum ;  by  the  second,  about  2500 ;  and  the  third 
about  500,  say.  Then  there  is  a  lower  class  still,  the  shop- 
keepers, for  instance,  in  the  Gostivoi  Dvor.  They  are  too  low, 
for  the  Guilds  form  a  class  by  themselves.  But  all  pay  a  tax 
to  Government,  and  a  heavy  one.  The  Guilds  are  nominally 
divided  according  to  amount  of  property  in  its  members,  but, 
in  point  of  fact,  the  payment  of  the  tax  to  Government  is  the 
test.  A  first  Guild  merchant  has  a  right  to  own  a  house,  to 
drive  a  carriage-and-four,  to  carry  on  the  foreign  trade ;  while 
a  second  Guild  merchant  can  have  but  a  carriage-and-pair, 
and  confine  himself  to  the  inland  trade  and  manufactures. 
The  first  Guild  merchant  is  exempted  from  the  quartering  of 
soldiers  upon  him.  No  trade  or  calling,  from  highest  to 
lowest,  can  be  practised  without  some  emolument,  and  the 
emolument  is  heavily  taxed.  Everybody  is  taxed  in  his 
calling.  There  is  high  tax  upon  the  transfer  of  real  estate, 
10  per  cent.  The  foreign  trade  has  been  for  a  long  time  con- 
fined to  foreign  merchants,  but  the  Eussians  are  coming  into 
it  now.     The  inland  trade  confined  chiefly  to  Eussians. 

The  nobles  have  not  only  the  right  of  refusing  to  sell  a 

serf  his  freedom,  but  they  often  do.     Prince has  a  slave 

(a  Eussian  merchant)   who   is   worth  two    or  three  million 


isn]  ST.  PETERSBURG.  Ill 

roubles,  and  who  has  repeatedly  oifered  his  master  a  million 
roubles  for  liis  freedom,  who  refuses  it.  All  the  property  in 
reality  belouf^s  to  the  master,  and  there  are  some  (though 
rure)  instances  of  the  master  really  enforcing  his  right  to  the 
acquired  property  of  his  slave.  The  serf  is  allowed  to  work 
three  days  in  tlio  week,  upon  land  allotted  to  him  by  his 
master.  .  .  . 

I  cannot  admire  the  vastness  and  length  of  the  squares 
and  streets.  To  be  sure,  the  architectural  effect  of  some  of 
tliem,  particularly  the  part  of  Isaac's  Square,  where  the  column 
of  Alexander  stands,  is  imposing,  and  reminds  one  of  some  of 
IMartin's  architectural  fantasies,  representing  imaginary  views 
i  Nineveh,  Babylon,  etc.;  but,  on  the  whole,  the  want  of 
j)ioportion  ruins  the  effect.  Perhaps  it  is  because  I  am  near- 
sighted, and  so  lose  all  details  in  attempting  to  take  in  the 
whole  picture ;  but  it  seems  to  me  that  the  breadth,  the 
tiiormous  and  incredible  breadth  of  the  streets,  and  parti- 
cularly of  the  great  square,  dwarfs  the  houses  and  diminishes 
the  grandeur  of  the  whole.  To  be  as  imjjosing  as  it  ought  or 
was  intended  to  be,  the  heights  of  all  the  houses  should  have 
been  doubled ;  the  statues,  already  colossal,  should  have  been 
magnified,  and  the  whole  enclosed  in  a  panoramic  building,  so 
that  one  might  have  looked  at  and  taken  in  the  whole  at  one 
coup  d'oeil,  by  means  of  some  telescopic  arrangement.  But 
the  effect  would  have  been  the  same  if  merely  the  distances 
had  been  lessened.  Peter  the  Great's  statue,  one  of  the  finest 
things  in  Europe,  is  lost  sight  of  in  the  dim  distance  before 
one  reaches  the  other  end  of  the  square  which  it  ornaments  ; 
and  so  with  the  column  of  Alexander,  the  Church  of  St.  Isaac, 
and  the  entrances  to  the  three  great  perspectives. 

-y:r , — ^vr.- —  •  •  •  The  Legislative,  Ihe  Executive  and 

Ifecember  l\)th 

the  Judicial  departments  are  all,  of  course,  embodied  in  the 

Emperor,  who  is,  like  "  Cerberus,  three  gentlemen  at  once.'* 

He   is  also   the  head  of  the  Church ;   and   as  the   nobility 

all    take    rank,    not    according    to    birth    or    title,   but   by 

seniority  in  his  service,  the  whole  society  of  Eussia,  through 

all   its   myriad   links,  dangles   like  a  great  chain  from  his 


112  MOTLEY'S  LETTEES.  [Chap.  IV. 

aristocratic  thumb.  He  is  Jupiter  Juvans,  and  he  looks  the 
character  and  fortunately  is  equal  to  it.  Social  rank  in  Kussia 
has  an  entirely  military  organization.  There  are  fourteen  or 
fifteen  ranks  of  nobility.  An  ensign  is  ipso  facto  noble,  and 
transmits  nobility  to  his  children,  and  this  is  the  lowest  or  14th 
order.  A  captain  is  of  a  higher  class,  a  colonel  of  course  still 
higher,  and  so  on.  There  are  corresponding  grades  in  the  civil 
service,  but  here  it  requires  a  relatively  higher  rank  to  match 
the  military  order.  Thus  a  major  in  the  civil  service,  that  is 
to  say,  an  employe,  who  by  seniority  in  his  profession  ranks 
as  high  therein  as  a  major  would  in  the  army,  is  only  equal 
to  an  ensign  in  the  army,  and  belongs  to  the  14th  class  of 
nobility ;  and  so  on  up  and  through  all  professions,  including 
physicians  and  clergymen.  It  is  in  fact  a  sort  of  horizontal 
tariff  struck  through  all  classes  of  society  and  rating  them 
into  different  categories  ad  valorem. 

According  to  this  rule,  for  instance,  an  archbishop  is  equal 
to  a  general-in-chief ;  that  is  to  say,  they  both  belong  to 
the  same  (the  1st  or  2nd  class  of  nobility) ;  and  by  the 
same  formula  of  social  algebra,  the  relative  proportions  of 
admirals,  archbishops,  ambassadors,  field-marshals,  judges, 
cupbearers,  cabinet  ministers,  theatre  directors,  masters  of 
ceremonies,  clerks,  cornets  and  middies  are  assigned.  This 
artificial  arrangement  was  first  invented,  I  think,  by  Peter 
the  Great  (vide  Voltaire's  '  Pierre  le  Grand '),  and  was  most 
admirably  contrived  by  that  sagacious  despot  to  break  down 
the  power  of  the  Eussian  nobility  and  to  strengthen  the 
autocracy  on  the  ruins  of  the  aristocracy.  His  principle 
that  rank  should  be  assigned  according  to  merit,  and  not 
according  to  birth,  carried  with  it  the  necessary  corollary 
in  a  despotic  Government  that  rank  should  be  assigned 
according  to  the  Imperial  favour ;  and  the  whole  system  has 
been  fully  developed  and  carried  out  by  all  his  successors.  It 
needs  a  strong  hand,  however,  to  hold  all  these  powers,  and 
the  autocrats  accordingly  are  as  apt  to  get  murdered  here 
as  in  Turkey.  Xpeter  the  Great  disbanded  and  annihilated 
the  Strelitz  or  Hussian  janissaries,  but  the  nobles  retained 
strength  enough  to  murder  his  descendant  Paul. 


1841.]  RUSSIAN  FOOD  SUPPLY,  ARMY,  ETC.  113 

^  It  would  require  a  long  residence  and  very  close  and  strict 
^k  attention,  to'  acquire  accurate  information  with  re<^ard  to  the 
^V  structure  of  the  Russian  executive  and  judiciary  departments, 
^^  and  it  certainly  would  not  repay  the  trouble  or  time  expended  ; 
m  the  barbarous,  the  arbitrary,  the  confused,  the  contradictory 
r  and  the  mysterious  are  the  prevailing  features.  The  more  I 
see  of  other  countries,  the  more  I  like  America.  The  faults, 
the  blemishes,  which  are  so  apparent  and  so  magnified  when 
we  are  close,  diminish  wonderfully  as  we  recede,  while  at  the 
same  time  the  simple  and  just  proportions,  the  literal  and 
open  structure,  wide  open  to  the  daylight  of  truth  of  the 
American  Republic,  present  themselves  more  boldly  and 
strikingly  to  the  view.  .  .  . 

Thirty  million  pounds  of  food  (Lebensmitteln)  are  brought  in 
two  months  (mid-winter)  to  St.  Petersburg — frozen  meats,  oxen 
slaughtered  by  thousands  of  hecatombs.  All  other  animals  (fish 
from  the  Volga),  game,  vegetables,  etc.,  are  brought  from  a 
distance  of  2000  wersts  ^  to  the  capital — which  itself  is  built 
upon  a  morass,  and  utterly  helpless  so  far  as  regards  its  own 
resources.  The  direction  is  taken  by  compass,  and  away  they  go 
over  thousands  of  miles  of  frozen  snow,  without  road  or  rail- 
road. In  summer,  the  water  communication  by  canals  is  very 
admirable,  connecting  the  Caspian  with  the  Baltic. 

The  Russian  soldier  is  reckoned  to  cost  118  francs  a 
year,  and  is  the  cheapest  soldier  in  Europe.  A  lieutenant 
gets  about  600  roubles  paper  a  year.  A  colonel  very  often 
makes  his  fortune ;  but  as  he  is  always  supposed  to  have  his 
regiment  full  and  fully  accoutred,  with  horses,  men  and  equip- 
ments, a  sudden  demand  is  very  apt  to  ruin  him ;  still  the 
post  is  very  lucrative.  A  private  soldier  may  be  promoted  to  a 
lieutenancy,  in  which  case  he  acquires  nobility  ;  but  the  choice 
of  promotion  or  retreat  with  a  pension  is  given  him,  and  he 
almost  always  prefers  the  latter.      A   soldier  serves  fifteen 

^•  years,  then  at  home  five,  then  five  years  more,  und  then  is  free. 
In  point  of  fact,  however,  the  conscript  is  a  soldier  for  life. 
The  peasants  are  furnished  for  the  army  upon  requisition  made 
by  the  Crown  upon  their  owners,  according  to  the  proportion 

>  A  went  is  3501  English  feet 
VOL.  I.  I 


114  MOTLEY'S  LETTEES.  [CiiAr.  IV- 

of  ownership.  There  are  certain  rules  by  which  the  proprietors 
exempt  some  peasants.  There  are  not  many  poor  in 
Russia ;  generally  the  law  requires  each  proprietor  to  take 
care  of  his  own  poor.  As  the  means  of  life  are  cheap,  and  the 
Russian  wants  of  food,  raiment  and  lodging  are  very  few, 
there  ought  not  to  be  a  great  deal  of  poverty.  Black  bread 
costs  at  St.  Petersburg  seven  copper  kopecks  to  a  cent  and  a 
half  of  our  money  a  pound ;  and  wheat  flour  in  Moscow  is 
about  a  penny  and  a  half  or  three  cents.  Wood,  of  which  they 
require  a  good  deal,  is  abundant  and  generally  cheap.  Very 
often,  in  a  season  of  bad  crops,  there  is  literally  famine,  and 
very  often  the  peasants  die  literally  of  hunger.  The  crops 
are  sold  standing  by  the  proprietor,  who  is  often  head-over- 
ears  in  debt,  carried  off,  and  the  peasants  who  planted,  sowed 
and  reaped  it  are  left  to  starve,  while  the  fruit  of  their 
toil  pays  the  debts  of  their  owner  in  St.  Petersburg  or 
Moscow.  The  prisons  and  jails  I  know  nothing  about.  The 
hospitals  (under  the  immediate  and  efficient  superintendence 
of  the  Duke  of  Leuchtenberg)  are  admirable,  particularly  the 
military  hospitals,  and  I  shall  go  to  see  them  as  soon  as  I 
have  contrived  some  means  of  seeing  them  to  advantage. 

The  policy  and  pride  of  the  Russian  Emperors,  from  Peter 
down,  have  been  to  encourage  and  protect  domestic  manu- 
factures by  enormous  and  constantly  increasing  tariffs. 
Moscow  is  the  great  seat  of  the  Russian  factories.  Lord 
Stuart  says  it  looks  like  Birmingham.  In  St.  Petersburg  there 
are  immense  factories  of  looking-glasses,  of  porcelain,  of  cloth, 
of  cotton — in  short,  in  spite  of  Storck's  book  written  expressly 
for  the  use  of  Alexander  and  Nicholas  w^hen  they  were  youths, 
and  which  advocates  free  trade,  they  have  gone  on  in  the  same 
dull  protective  career,  which  all  nations  begin  now,  at  least  in 
theory,  to  repudiate.  .  .  . 

Friday,  December  31  st. — Thermometer  28°  (Reaumur).  Snow- 
ing slightly  all  day.  At  twelve  go  to  a  rehearsal  of  the  chanteurs 
de  la  cour.  In  the  Greek  Church,  there  is  no  instrumental 
music,  but  the  effect  of  this  admirable  harmony  and  variety 
of  voice  must  be  very  fine.  I  have  not  yet  been  at  mass. 
These  are  the  singers  of  the  Royal  Chapel  (in  the  Palace).     It 


I 


1842. J  ACADEMY  OP  SCIENCES.  115 

is  in  fiiet  n  livinpj  organ ;  the  thin,  clear  pipes  of  young  boys, 
mixed  with  the  deep  and  sonorous  bass  and  thrilling  trebles 
of  men,  produce  all  the  volume  and  all  the  variety  and  all 
the  swelling  and  sinking  cadences  of  an  immense  organ.  .  .  . 

at  12  o'clock  to  the  annual  sitting  of  the  Academy  of  Sciences, 
to  which  we  received  cards  of  invitation.  Went  in  uniform. 
Members  of  Academy,  behind  a  horse-shoe  table,  all  in  uniform 
(something  between  a  military  and  diplomatic  dress).  Hand- 
some hall,  portraits  of  Alexander  and  Nicholas,  Catherine  I. 
and  II.,  Elizabetli  and  Paul.  Bust  of  Peter  the  Great  on  granite 
pedestal.  Brazilian  Minister  and  Sir  R.  Porter  only  diplo- 
mats present.  Archbishop  of  Moscow  sat  in  front  of  me 
— blue  caftan  with  a  white  napkin  on  the  head,  grizzled  beard, 
altogether  as  reverend  a  figure  as  any  of  those  most  venerable 
individuals  the  Russian  coachmen.  All  his  acquaintances 
kissed  his  hand.  Ceremonies  consisted  in  the  reading  of  the 
^Compte  Rendu,'  by  the  perpetual  Secretary,  Dr.  Frys,  in 
French,  and  by  an  oration  or  memoir  in  Russian  by  the  Vice- 
President,  Prince  Dondoukoif  Korsakoff.  Introduced  to 
Admiral  Ricard  and  the  Vice-President.  As  we  were 
coming  away.  Prince  Dondoukoff  gave  us  each  a  copy  of  the 
printed  Acts  of  the  Academy  of  last  year. 

Tliursday,  January  1/13,  1842. — Thermometer  10°  all  day. 
A  frozen  fog  filled  the  air,  the  trees  were  frosted  all  over  with 
silver,  ditto  the  beards  of  the  venerable  coachmen  and  the 
manes  of  the  horses.  The  effect  on  crossing  the  Isaac's  Place 
through  the  mist,  as  I  took  my  noonday  walk,  was  singular. 
Peter's  colossal  statue  dilated  through  the  mist  into  gigantic 
and  spectral  proportions.  The  towers  'and  domes  of  the 
Isaac's  Church  behind  him,  loomed  up  in  shadowy  grandeur, 
and  the  sun  hung  like  a  globe  of  half-extinguished  fire,  round 
and  rayless  in  the  centre  of  its  low  arch,  and  apparently  but  a 
half-hour  above  the  rim  of  the  horizon.  The  day  was  cold, 
but  one  did  not  feel  it  through  one's  furs  because  it  was  so 
still.  It  has  been  judiciously  said  that  at  St.  Petersburg  "  on 
voit  lefroid  mais  on  ne  le  sent  ims."     Still  this  is  not  what  is 

I  2 


116  MOTLEY'S  LETTEES.  [Chap.  IV. 

called  cold  weather.  Everybody  says  that  25  degrees,  day 
and  night,  for  a  Aveek  or  ten  days  together,  is  the  usual  state 
of  the  weather  at  this  season. 

Dine  with  Colonel  Todd.  In  the  evening  go  to  the  ball  at 
Woronzow's.  Observe  for  the  first  time  the  Duke  of  Leuchten- 
berg,  Josephine's  grandson,  who  is  son-in-law  to  the  Czar — a 
tall,  slender,  common-place  looking  man,  in  a  Hussar's  uni- 
form. The  only  other  members  of  the  Imperial  family  present 
were  the  Grand  Duke  Michael,  and  the  Hereditary,  "the 
Perpetual  Grand,"  as  Dick  Swiveller  would  call  him,  for  he 
is  at  all  the  parties  perpetually,  and  perpetually  dancing  the 
mazurka. 

Tuesdatj,  January  6/18. — This  being  the  fete  of  the  bless- 
ing of  the  waters,  go  by  appointment  of  Count  Woronzow  to 
the  apartments  of  Prince  Wolkowsky  at  the  Winter  Palace, 
where  one  of  the  Palace  servants  conducts  us  into  the  great 
banqueting-room,  filled  with  military,  at  one  of  the  windows 
of  which  we  took  our  station,  directly  opposite  the  pavilion 
where  the  ceremony  takes  place.  As  to  effect,  it  makes  no 
difference  in  a  procession  whether  the  material  be  velvet, 
satin,  or  fustian;  the  arrangement  of  the  colours,  grouping,, 
drapery,  etc.,  may  be  equally  produced  in  coarse  materials. 
Here  go  two  or  three  notes  to  serve  as  memoranda. 

1.  Square  space  in  the  ice  of  the  Neva,  lined  and  thronged 
with  multitudes  of  spectators,  say  fifty  thousand.  Their  bearded 
faces  agitated  like  a  strong  sea,  particularly  when  they  crossed 
themselves  all  in  a  mass  at  the  appearance  of  the  procession. 

2.  The  pavilion,  a  gaudy  affair  of  wood,  painted  and  gilded, 
open  all  round,  and  carpeted  with  red  cloth,  on  a  platform 
ascended  by  some  dozen  steps. 

3.  The  procession,  which  was  of  course  not  very  large, 
coming  only  \from  the  Palace  gate  across  the  quay  to  the 
edge  of  the  Npva,  where  the  pavilion  stood.  First,  a  double 
line  of  popes,  iiV  yellow  satin  and  white  robes,  their  long  hair 
streaming  on  their  shoulders  (bareheaded),  and  their  long 
beards,  three  de^p ;  behind  them  a  row  of  pages,  all  bareheaded. 
Between  this  open  line  of  clergy,  the  procession  of  archbishops, 
bishops,  in   rich  Embroidered   cloth   of  gold   robes,   bearing 


» 


1842.]  MILITARY   HOSPITALS.  117 

banners  and  emblems,  marclied ;  then  the  principal  archbishop, 
then  the  Emperor,  followed  by  his  suite  of  great  embroidered 
functionaries,  all  bareheaded,  walk  up  the  steps,  and  then 
descend  the  interior  ones  leadinjr  to  the  hole  cut  in  the  ice. 
Then  the  archbishop  blesses  the  water,  which  of  course  wo 
could  not  see,  and  then  a  salute  of  artillery  from  the  fortress 
iinnounces  the  fact.  Then  they  return,  the  archbishop  with  a 
little  mop  or  swab  twirling  water  on  all  the  dignitaries  from 
the  Emperor  down.  As  soon  as  they  have  left  the  place,  general 
rush  from  the  ice  to  dip  into  the  water.  Came  home,  and  was 
raised  to  fever-heat  of  happiness  by  finding  dear,  dear  Mary's 
letter.  I  shall  now  begin  a  letter  to  her  to  thank  her, 
although  it  can't  go  until  next  Tuesday. 

TJiursdaij,  January  8/20. — Passed  out  of  the  citadel  and 
went  a  few  rods  farther  to  the  house  of  Peter  the  Great.  This 
foetus  of  St.  Petersburg  is  a  one-storey  log  hut,  painted  red,  and 
enclosed  lately  for  protection  in  a  brick  case.  The  interior 
•consists  in  a  small  room  on  each  side  of  the  entrance  (low 
studded,  so  that  you  may  touch  the  rafters  of  the  ceiling  with 
your  hat  or  hand),  and  a  smaller  bedroom.  One  of  these  is 
now  consecrated  as  a  church,  and  filled  with  frippery  of  all 
5orts,  gold  and  silver  pictures,  arms  and  legs  tied  up  w  ith  satin 
ribbons,  and  other  votive  offerings  from  devout  invalids  cured 
of  every  bodily  ailment  by  the  virtues  of  the  throne.  In  the 
other  room,  which  w  as  Peter's  audience-room,  is  an  old  wooden 
Araachair,  upon  which  throne  Peter  received  the  foreign 
ambassadors. 

Wednesday,  January  14/25. — Thermometer  8^ — 10^  Dr. 
Cavill  came  and  we  went  a  round  of  military  hospitals.  It  is 
certain  that  the  soldier  is  taken  good  care  of  in  Russia.  Wo 
visited  four  hospitals — The  first — that -of  the  Ismaisofisky 
regiment — small,  120  patients — very  clean — polished  floors — 
about  ten  or  twelve  in  a  ward — well  dressed  and  with  clean 
bedding — over  the  head  of  each  patient  is  a  board  containing 
his  name,  regiment,  disease,  and  diet.  .  .  .  There  are  3000 
men  in  each  regiment  and  three  physicians.  There  is  a 
physician  night  and  day  in  the  hospital,  and  the  patients  are 
visited  morning  and  evening.     It  is  reckoned  that  the  food 


118  MOTLEY'S  LETTEKS.  [Chap.  IV. 

costs  about  eleven  silver  kopecks  for  each  inmate  of  the  hos- 
pitals, the  medicine  two  or  three,  making  about  thirteen,  and 
the  cost  of  wood,  attendance,  etc.,  etc.,  make  it  up  to  about 
thirty  silver  kopecks  'per  diem  for  each  patient.  The  food  is 
pretty  good — white  bread  for  the  sick,  rye  bread  for  the  con- 
valescents. They  are  allowed  two  pounds  of  bread,  and  one 
pound  of  meat  i^er  diem,  but  Wednesdays  and  Fridays  are 
always  fast  days,  when  they  get  cabbage  soup.  They  have 
quassia  and  a  sort  of  drink  made  of  rye  and  meal  and  small 
beer.  It  is  not  known  exactly  what  all  these  hospitals  (of  which 
there  are  seven  in  St.  Petersburg  for  the  thirteen  regiments, 
and  a  proportionate  number  of  equally  good  ones  all  over  the 
Empire)  cost  the  Government,  at  whose  expense  they  all  are, 
but  an  approximation  may  be  made  out  of  the  cost  of  each 
patient.  They  are  economically  arranged,  for  the  overseer 
told  me  there  was  no  waste,  everything  was  consumed. 

From  the  Ismaisoffsky  we  went  to  one  occupied  by  three 
regiments — here  were  283  patients,  a  very  small  number  for 
9000  men.  The  arrangements  were  similar  to  the  last. 
Thence  to  the  Prebazensky  Hospital — this  the  oldest  hospital, 
having  been  founded  by  Peter  the  Great — very  clean,  pure, 
and  regular,  but  no  difference  between  it  and  the  others.  The 
officers  of  the  regiment  have  a  library  in  the  same  building, 
which  they  showed  us — a  good  collection  of  liistory  and  travels 
— about  6000  volumes,  and  they  subscribe  a  fund  of  about 
1500  roubles  'per  annum  to  add  to  it.  There  were  two 
Russian  newspapers.  They  showed  also  the  collection  of  MS., 
including  a  book  full  of  the  notes,  orders,  etc.,  of  Peter  the 
Great,  Catherine,  and  Alexander — all  written  in  Russian. 
From  this  we  went  lastly  to  what  is  called  the  great  hos- 
pital, not  appropriated  by  any  one  regiment,  but  receiving 
patients  from  several.  This  was  built  by  Nicholas.  Nothing- 
peculiar,  except  being  on  an  immense  scale.  There  were 
800  patients  in  it — there  are  beds  for  1300,  besides  20  for 
officers.  There  are  three  stories,  and  water  forced  up-  te 
reservoir  on  top,  and  let  into  various  washing  places  for  the 
patients  along  the  corridor.  There  is  an  internal  and  external 
corridor  opening  to  each  ward.     Each  ward  contains  eighteen 


1842.]  THE  HERMITAGE  GALLERY.  119 

bods.     Good  ventilators.     Fire-places,  as   well   as   an   equal 
warmth  all  over  the  building  by  Russian  stoves.  .  .  . 

Thursday,  Jamuiry  15/27.— Thermometer  10°— 12^  Visit 
the  Hermitage  Gallery.  This  is  one  of  the  best  collections  in 
Europe.  I  know  of  none  which  has  fewer  bad  pictures.  .  .  . 
One  room  is  full  of  exquisite  Wouvermans — battle  pieces, 
hunting  and  hawking  pieces — fights  of  banditti  and  all  the 
favourite  equestrian  subjects  of  that  great  painter  of  life  in 
action — of  wild,  tumultuous,  thrilling  action.  Another  room 
is  full  of  Teniers — boors,  banquets,  village  dances,  cottage 
interiors — many  of  them  masterpieces.  Strewed  about  here 
and  there  are  several  most  delicious  Euysdaels — with  their 
dark  masses  of  wood  and  bubbling  brooks,  cool  valleys,  and 
embowered  church  spires.  One  of  these  pictures,  representing 
a  grove  with  the  trees  up  to  their  knees  in  water,  was  a 
perfect  portrait  of  a  maple  swamp  in  Massachusetts.  Several 
fine  Breughels  and  Berghems — Paul  Potters  and  Cuyps,  and 
one  room  full  of  Eembrandts.  Unfortunately  the  sun  was 
shining  so  powerfully  upon  the  best  of  these  that  I  could  not 
see  them,  and  only  remember  one  or  two  grim  portraits  in  his 
very  best  and  strongest  manner.  There  are  two  or  three 
Raphaels  in  his  early  Perugino  manner.  ...  In  one  room  are 
the  pictures  forming  part  of  the  Houghton  Collection,  em- 
bracing some  of  the  best  Vandykes  in  the  world — Charles  I., 
his  Queen — portrait  of  Sir  J.  Wharton  and  the  Earl  of  Danby, 
and  a  most  delicious  picture  of  William  II.,  Prince  of  Orange, 
at  the  age  of  twelve,  in  which  I  think  the  flesh  and  blood  has 
been  put  upon  canvas  more  perfectly  than  I  remember  in 
any  picture — one  of  the  most  diflBcult  things  in  painting  is  to 
hit  the  exact  colour  of  the  human  face.  The  rich  olive  of  the 
boy's  cheek  with  an  undertone  of  vermilion  is  the  ne  jplus 
ultra  of  complexion  painting.  .  .  . 

Monday,  January  19/31. — Thermometer  10° — 4°.  Visit  the 
institution  for  the  education  of  female  orT)hans  of  oflScers. 
Large,  splendid  building,  of  course,  connected  with  the  Enfants 
Trouves.  The  two  institutions  together  are  well  endowed,  so 
that  although  the  expense  exceeds  eight  millions  per  annum, 
they  lay  by  something  every  year.     In  the  orphan  institute 


120  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  IV. 

there  are  1123  pupils,  divided  into  six  classes.  They  are 
taught  all  the  "  humanities,"  reading,  writing,  history,  music, 
three  or  four  languages,  in  short,  everything,  and  the  institu- 
tion constitutes  a  great  manufactory  of  governesses  which 
supplies  the  whole  Empire  as  far  as  it  can — but  the  demand 
is  so  great  that  every  scholar  of  good  capacity  is  certain,  on 
completing  her  education,  to  obtain  a  situation  as  governess. 
Those  whose  want  of  capacity  condemns  them  to  a  humbler 
sjDhere  are  finished  off  as  ouvrieres,  hrodeuses,  sempstresses, 
washerwomen,  servants,  and  some  of  the  enfants  troiives  are  at 
present  among  them,  but  it  is  not  intended  in  future  that 
they  should  mingle  with  the  others.  We  went  through  all 
the  class  rooms — examined  the  best  class  in  Eussian,  much 
to  their  edification  and  ours — saw  their  kitchen,  dormitories 
(iron  bedsteads  and  clean  bedding,  but  too  many  in  a  room), 
and  saw  them  come  into  their  dining-hall.  They  marched  in 
two  by  two,  with  merry  little  faces  trying  hard  to  look  sedate, 
but  with  smiles  stealing  out  of  all  the  corners  of  their  mouths 
and  seeming  very  happy,  into  the  hall,  where  they  all  sung 
(as  is  the  universal  custom  of  all  the  institutions)  a  Russian 
hymn,  devoutly  crossing  and  sometimes  prostrating  them- 
selves the  while — and  then  all  sat  down  to  table  chattering 
and  laughing.  The  effect  of  the  chorus  of  small,  sweet  voices, 
piping  out  a  thanksgiving  was  delicious,  and  they  certainly 
ought  to  be  thankful — for  how  many  young  ravens  are  fed 
who  but  for  this  institution  would  necessarily  drag  through  a 
life  of  misery  and  starvation ! 

This,  like  all  the  noblest  charitable  institutions  of  Eussia, 
was  originated  by  the  late  Empress-mother.  Baron  Stachel- 
berg,  the  Director  of  the  Enfants  Trouves,  was  with  us — a 
very  gentlemanlike  and  intelligent  man  —  of  whom  the 
children  were  evidently  excessively  fond — thronging  round 
him  with  smiles  and  all  sorts  of  caresses,  "  and  plucked  his 
gown  to  share  the  good  man's  smile."  The  "Enfants 
Trouves  "  has  been  so  often  described  that  there  is  nothing 
for  me  to  add.  There  are  about  18,000  at  present  belonging 
to  it,  and  30,000  to  the  one  in  Moscow.  There  are  in  the 
house  at  St.  Petersburg  about  1000  infants  and  a  nurse  to 


1842.] 


ORPHAN  ASYLUMS. 


121 


ouch.  They  koep  them  here  six  Aveoks,  niid  then  if  well  send 
them  witli  their  nurses  to  the  country — where  they  are  brought 
up  to  trades,  etc.  There  are  received  3000  or  4000  ^jer  annum. 
Two  or  three  had  already  been  brought  in  the  morning  that 
wo  were  tliore.  We  met,  in  fact,  two  well-dressed  women,  each 
bringing  in  a  child.  The  mothers,  if  they  choose,  can  come  in 
as  nurses.  The  children  are  brought  openly  and  deposited  in 
a  little  room  below  stairs.  After  the  depositor  is  gone,  the 
child  is  washed,  ticketed,  and  delivered  to  a  nurse — the  food 
of  the  nurses  is  good — each  child  has  its  cradle,  which  is  clean 
and  good — about  one-third  of  the  whole  number  die. 


122  MOTLEY'S  LETTEKS.  [Chap.  V. 


CHAPTER  V. 

COMMENCEMENT   OF   THE   'HISTORY' — RESIDENCE   AT  DRESDEN. 

Commencement  of  the  'History  of  the  Kise  of  the  Dutch  Eepublic  ' — Arrival  in 
Europe— The  Rhine— Holland— The  duel  with  the  sea— Folders— The  Dutch 
Masters — Dresden — Its  climate — The  Opera — Sontag — A  picnic  excursion — 
Prospects  of  the  Presidential  Election — The  Madonna  di  San  Sisto — The 
Green  Vaults — Progress  of  the  '  History ' — Prince  John  of  Saxony — Death 
of  Daniel  Webster — '  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin '  and  the  Slavery  Question — The 
King  and  Queen  of  Saxony — The  Court  and  its  etiquette— Marriage  of 
Princess  Vasa  and  Prince  Albert — Court  festivities. 

[Mr.  Motley  returned  to  America  in  1842,  and  in  1844  he 
took  an  active  interest  in  politics.  In  1845-47  lie  contributed 
historical  and  literary  papers  to  the  '  North  American  Review/ 
and  began  to  collect  materials  for  a  history  of  Holland.  In 
1849  he  served  for  one  term  in  the  Massachusetts  Legislature, 
and  in  the  same  year  he  published  his  second  novel,  *  Merry- 
Mount.'  In  1851,  finding  that  he  could  not  properly  write  a 
history  of  the  Dutch  Republic  without  consulting  archives 
and  libraries  in  Europe,  he  threw  aside  all  that  he  had  written, 
and  sailed  with  his  family  for  Europe.] 

To  his  Mother. 

Ship  Parliament,  oflf  Point  Lynas, 
July  4:th,  1851.     1  a.m. 

My  DEAREST  Mother, — Mary  has  just  been  writing  a 
hurried  line  to  Susan  to  announce  our  safe  arrival  at  the  pilot 
ground,  and  I  thought  you  would  like  a  single  line  from  me  at 
the  same  time.  They  have  just  been  burning  blue  lights  and 
firing  off  rockets  on  board  the  ship  to  celebrate  4th  July,  and 
the  pilot  has  come  on  board.     We  expect  to  reach  Liverpool 


1851.]  THE  RHINE.  12:1 

)y  six  or  seven  oVlock  in  the  morning.  Our  plans  nre  still 
indistinct ;  but  I  um  afraid  we  shall  find  it  difficult  to  avoid 
jondon,  as  all  the  roads  seem  to  tend  in  that  direction.  We 
[shall,  perhaps,  remain  there  for  a  few  days,  a  very  few,  and 
len  cross  to  Holland.  I  shall,  however,  write  to  you  again 
rery  soon,  and  the  only  reason  for  my  sending  this  most 
msatisfactory  scrawl  is,  that  I  am  unwilling  that  the  first 
steamer  after  our  arrival  should  sail  without  taking  to  you  an 
cpression  of  my  affectionate  remembrance.  I  am  deter- 
lined,  however,  not  to  allow  myself  to  be  home-sick  yet, 
Ithough  it  is  very  hard  to  think  of  Eiverdale  and  all  which  it 
mtains  with  anything  like  composure.  I  feel,  however,  very 
rateful  that  the  children  have  been  so  well.  Susie  ^  has  never 
jknowlodged  any  difference  between  ship  and  shore,  proved 
lerself  the  best  sailor  from  the  very  first,  has  exchanged  locks 
)f  hair  with  the  captain,  and  has  been  the  especial  favourite 
^of  both  the  mates. 

Good-night,  my  dearest  mother.     You  will  hardly  derive 
much  satisfaction  from  this  note,  except  that  it  assures  you 
lat  we  are  well  and  that  our  first   thought   on   reaching  a 
^foreign  coast  is  of  you  and  of  home. 

Ever  your  affectionate  son, 
J.  L.  M. 


To  his  Mother. 

Konigswinter, 

August  l\th,  1851. 

My  dearest  Mother, — I  write  from  a  little  village  some 

^half-dozen  miles  above  Bonn,  with  the  castled  crag  of  Drachen- 

fels  over  my  head,  and  the  wide  and  winding  Rhine  under 

'my  nose,  so  that  the  situation  is  as  romantic  as  nature  and  art, 

history  and  poetry  can  make  any  spot  in  the  world. 

Much  to  my  satisfaction,  Mary  decided  to  give  up  visiting 
Paris  this  year.  I  was  very  glad,  for  the  idea  was  anything 
but  agreeable  to  me,  and  we  are  now  (having  left  the  bulk  of 
our  luggage  at  Cologne)  making  a  slow  and  easy  tour  on  the 

'  His  youngest  daugliter,  now  Mrs.  Herbert  St  John  Mildmay. 


124  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap   V. 

Rhine.  We  came  to  this  place  from  Cologne  three  days  ago, 
and  shall  leave  to-morrow  for  Coblenz.  We  could  loiter  away 
a  much  longer  time  here,  for  it  is  a  quiet,  dreamy  place,  lying 
at  the  gateway  of  the  Rhine  glories  and  full  of  natural  beauty 
and  romantic  associations.  I  am  glad  to  have  Mary  wait  a 
little  while  here  till  she  can  form  a  definite  and  clear  idea 
of  the  stream  which  we  are  about  to  ascend.  It  is  striking 
enough  for  me,  having  just  come  from  Holland,  where  I  saw 
the  noble  river  in  its  feeble  old  age  dribbling  languidly  by 
Leyden,  and  suffocated  at  last  on  its  dull  Dutch  death-bed  on 
the  Katwyk  sands,  to  witness  the  copious  and  exulting  flow  of 
its  waters  here.  It  was  a  melancholy  sight  enough  in  Holland. 
The  river,  after  having  commenced  its  career  by  a  magnificent 
summersault  over  the  precipices  of  SchaffTiausen,  and  having 
pursued  its  winding  and  fertilising  course  through  so  many 
romantic  regions  in  Germany,  subsides  into  the  most  stagnant 
imbecility  in  the  Netherlands,  hiding  itself  in  quicksands  and 
miseries,  and  forgetting  its  identity  and  even  its  time-honoured 
name,  which  is  changed  and  extinguished  before  its  waters  are 
lost  in  the  sea.  I  believe  I  alluded  in  my  last  letter  to  this 
inglorious  termination  of  its  career.  The  river  actually 
becomes  too  feeble  even  to  die,  and  is  pumped  out  of 
existence  by  artificial  means  at  Katwyk.  It  had  lain  strang- 
ling there  one  thousand  years,  its  mouth  having  been  choked 
with  a  vast  mass  of  sand  driven  up  by  a  tempest  in  840,  till 
at  the  commencement  of  the  present  century  it  was  helped  into 
the  ocean  of  eternity  or  the  eternity  of  ocean  by  means  of 
windmills.  Up  to  that  period  it  was  lost  in  nameless  bogs  and 
quagmires.  What  a  dreary  termination  to  its  Swiss  childhood 
and  its  picturesque  and  impetuous  career  through  the  Land  of 
Song !  Here  the  stream  is  beautiful.  Probably  no  river  in 
the  world  has  been  so  lavishly  endowed  by  nature  and  by  art, 
by  poetry  and  truth.  Its  written  history  extends  with 
unbroken  links  from  Csesar  to  Napoleon,  the  two  notorious 
individuals  whose  names  are  the  two  greatest  epochs  of 
recorded  time.  Across  that  chasm  of  two  thousand  years,  the 
embroidered  belt  of  the  Rhine  is  flung,  emblazoned  all  over 
with  historical  emblems  and  hieroglyphics. 


1851.]  THE  RHINE — HOLLAND.  125 

How  different  from  the  silent  and  solitary  course  of  our  own 
l)eautiful  but  deaf  and  dumb  rivers !  Great  events,  thick  as 
the  stars  of  heaven,  have  illuminated  almost  every  day  of  its 
.xistence,  and  ten  thoustmd  charming  fables  from  the  misty 
and  legendary  mythology  of  the  middle  ages  have  lent  a 
cliarm  to  every  rock  on  its  banks  and  to  every  brook  that 
mingles  with  its  waters.  Here,  where  we  are  at  present,  is  the 
lirst  but  one  of  the  most  enchanting  spots'  which  engage  your 
attention  as  you  ascend  the  stream.  This  village  is  at  the  foot 
of  the  Drachenfels,  and  one  of  the  renowned  seven  mountains. 
These  hills  are  all  of  volcanic  origin,  having  been  spouted  up 
by  craters  long  since  extinguished,  and  consist  of  basaltic 
crags  broken  into  fantastic  and  jagged  outlines.  Cornfields 
and  vineyards  grow  now  in  deep  hollows,  which  are  very 
visibly  volcanic  craters  whose  lips  were  closed  long  before 
those  of  history  were  opened.  Each  one  of  these  crags  has  its 
vineyards  on  its  lap,  its  crumbling  baronial  ruin  on  its  brow, 
and  a  little  white  village  at  its  feet.  The  Drachenfels,  or 
Dragon's  rock,  is  the  most  picturesque  although  not  the 
highest  of  these  cliffs.  .  .  . 


To  his  Mother. 

k  Brussels, 

Augwt  Q(h,  1851. 
My  dearest  Mother, —  .  .  .  Holland  is  a  stranger  and 
ore  wonderful  country  than  I  had  imagined.  I  did  not 
ink  that  you  would  so  plainly  observe  how  it  has  been 
Jscooped  out  of  the  bottom  of  the  sea.  But  when  travelling 
there  you  see  how  the  never-ending,  still-beginning  duel,  which 
this  people  has  so  long  been  waging  with  the  ocean,  remains 
still  their  natural  condition,  and  the  only  means  by  which 
their  physical  existence  as  a  nation  can  be  protracted  a  year. 
They  are  always  below  high-water  mark,  and  the  ocean  is 
(mly  kept  out  by  the  most  prodigious  system  of  dykes  and 
])umps  which  the  heart  of  man  ever  conceived.  It  is  like  a 
leaking  ship  at  sea  after  a  tempest,  the  people  are  pumping 


126  MOTLEY'S  LETTEES.  [Chap.  V. 

night  and  day  for  their  lives.  Tell  the  governor  that  the  low 
land  at  Kiverdale  would  be  an  excellent  miniature  Holland. 
He  has  only  to  dyke  out  the  Charles  as  the  Dutch  do  the 
Rhine  and  the  Meuse,  cut  twelve  or  fifteen  canals  at  right 
angles,  and  keep  them  dry  by  a  series  of  mighty  pumj)s 
worked  by  twenty  or  thirty  windmills.  Such  an  apparatus 
would  add  very  much  to  the  picturesqueness  of  your  place, 
and  would  improve  the  value  of  the  land  incalculably.  We 
could  cut  up  an  immense  quantity  of  English  grass  and 
pasture  the  cows  afterwards. 

By  the  way,  this  is  the  universal  system  in  Holland.  The 
country  is  one  meadow,  and  it  is  strange  enough  to  witness 
thousands  of  cattle  grazing  quietly  as  it  were  in  the  bottom  of 
the  sea,  usurping  the  ancient  feeding  ground  of  the  cods  and 
haddocks.  I  visited  the  great  polder  of  all.  A  polder  is  the 
designation  of  a  drained  lake  or  pond  converted  into  arable 
land.  The  one  I  mean  is  Haarlem  lake,  which,  within  the 
last  two  years,  has  been  nearly  drained.  The  task,  which 
seemed  Herculean,  has  been  talked  about  for  centuries,  but  at 
last  the  danger  of  inundation  which  seemed  impending  over 
the  whole  of  Holland  caused  the  job  to  be  seriously  under- 
taken. The  lake  is  about  seventy  square  miles  in  extent,  and 
about  sixteen  feet  deep.  By  means  of  three  colossal  suction 
pumps,  worked  by  three  engines  of  350  horse-power,  they  have 
drained  three-fourths  of  the  depth.  They  expect  to  finish  it 
in  another  year.  I  doubt  it,  however,  for  the  hardest  seems 
yet  to  come.  Still,  the  wonderful  feat  will  be  accomplished 
within  a  very  short  time.  I  had,  of  course^  but  little  time 
to  see  the  pictures  in  Holland. 

The  collections  at  the  Hague  and  Amsterdam  contain  some 
of  the  most  wonderful  paintings  of  the  Dutch  ^nd  Flemish 
schools.  I  could  only,  of  course,  look  at  them  for  a  little 
while  and  see  how  much  one  loses  by  travelling  in  a  hurry. 
It  is  strange  that  those  two  amphibious,  half-submerged  re- 
publics, Venice  and  Holland,  should  have  instructed  the 
world  in  colour.  Nothing  certainly  can  exceed  the  brilliancy 
and  profound  mastery  of  colour  possessed  by  Rubens,  Rem- 
brandt, and  Van  Der  Heist.     You  see  these  masters  nowhere 


1831.]  TIIK  ACHIEVEMENTS  OF  THE   DUTCH.  127 

II  such  profusion  as  in  their  native  land.  The  landscapes, 
loo,  the  Iliiysdaols  and  Berghems,  you  would  be  delighted 
with.  After  your  eyes  have  been  put  out  by  the  efifulgeneo 
of  their  great  historical  pieces  and  dazzling  portraits,  such  as 
Rembrandt  and  Van  Der  Heist  and  Eubens  only  could  paint, 
they  are  refreshed  by  those  cool,  calm,  rural  scenes,  with 
liady  groves  and  gurgling  brooks,  such  as  only  their  land- 
scape painters  could  produce.  They  seem  to  have  had  a 
<leeper  sentiment  for  landscape,  and  a  greater  power  in 
reproducing  natural  beauties,  than  any  people. 

How  strange  that  this  genius  should  have  risen  out  of  the 
very  bottom  of  the  sea,  that  a  people  should  have  so  faithfully 
and  poetically  represented  on  canvas  those  charming  pastoral 
<oenes,  of  which  they  could  have  only  dreamed  among  their 
mitive  dykes  and  ditches,  without  ever  seeing  them  in  their 
own  land  !  The  Dutch  have  certainly  done  many  great  things. 
They  have  had  to  contend  with  two  of  the  mightiest  powers 
in  the  world,  the  ocean  and  Spanish  tyranny,  and  they  con- 
quered both.  Neither  the  Inquisition  nor  the  Zuyder  Zee 
was  able  to  enguK  them,  and  yet  it  is  very  funny  to  see  a 
people  after  having  achieved  such  triumphs  seat  themselves 
so  contentedly  in  their  summer-houses  over  their  very  ill- 
savoured  canals.  Every  country  house  has  its  garden,  every 
garden  its  canal,  and  every  canal  is  always  creaming  and 
mantling  like  no  other  standing  pool  in  the  world  out  of 
Holland.  Nobody  knows  how  stagnant  water  can  be  till  he 
has  visited  this  country.  The  canals  smell  of  anything  but 
Araby  the  Blest,  and  yet  every  summer-house  is  always 
planted  directly  over  it.  There  sit  the  placid  burghers,  pipe 
in  mouth,  and  inhale  the  odours,  hanging  over  them  as  if 
increase  of  appetite  did  grow  by  what  it  fe^ds  on. 

Ever  your  most  affectionate  son, 

J.  L.  M. 


128  MOTLEY'S  LETTEKS.  [Chap.  V. 

To  Ms  Mother. 

Dresden, 
November  11th,  1851. 

We  live  in  the  most  profound  solitude.  We  have  exchanged 
calls  with  the  British  Minister  and  his  sister,  and  with  this 
ceremony  our  acquaintance  with  the  society  of  Dresden  is 
likely  to  have  begun  and  ended.  I  certainly  do  not  regret 
this  on  my  own  account,  nor  much  upon  Mary's,  because  I 
think  that  we  have  become  so  very  much  addicted  to  solitude 
that  we  adorn  it  more  than  we  should  society.  We  should 
feel  like  Shadrach,  Meshach  and  Abednego  if  we  should  ever 
venture  into  the  fiery  furnace  of  fashionable  life,  and  mightn't 
get  out  of  the  scrape  as  respectably  as  those  excellent  and 
unsinged  individuals  are  said  to  have  done. 

Our  autumn  is  drawing  to  a  conclusion,  but  everything  is 
very  deliberate  in  this  paternal  government.  I  suppose  the 
weather  is  regulated,  like  the  price  of  meat,  by  the  police,  in 
consequence  of  which  we  have  never  very  good  or  very  bad 
weather,  as  we  certainly  have  never  anything  but  most 
indifierent  beef  and  mutton.  The  first  frost  was,  I  think, 
about  ten  days  ago,  or  say  about  the  10th  of  November.  The 
month  of  September  was  very  cold  and  rainy.  The  sun 
hardly  shone  once,  and  the  rain  was  not  omitted  in  more 
than  three  out  of  the  whole  thirty  days.  The  glass  was  never 
so  high  as  70°,  and  generally  was  at  about  58°.  The  month 
of  October  was  very  fine,  and  fine  nearly  all  the  time,  as  our 
best  October,  which  is  saying  a  great  deal,  as  that  is  the 
month  we  brag  the  most  of.  Even  till  the  last  week  of  that 
month  the  glass  was  for  many  days  in  succession  as  high  as 
67°,  and  was  hardly  ever  20°  lower.  Since  the  beginning 
of  this  month  it  has  not  been  higher  than  40°,  and  rarely 
lower  than  30°,  although  for  the  last  two  or  three  nights  it 
may  have  been  as  low  as  26°,  I  talk  by  the  thermometer  on 
purpose  because  all  other  talk  about  the  weather  means  but 
little.  Figures  in  this  respect  don't  lie,  for  they  have  no 
interest  to  do  so,  that  I  know  of.  The  horse-chestnut  trees 
in  our  garden  were  full  of  leaves,  which  were  almost  green 


1852]  WINTER  IN  DRESDEN.  129 

until  about  a  week  since,  when  the  first  sharp  frost  stripped 
thom.  The  acacias  (rose  acacias)  under  my  window  and  the 
other  shrubbery  in  the  garden  are  not  yet  leafless  or  yellow. 
The  dahlias  and  roses  have  been  dead  about  ten  days,  the 
grape  vines  were  laid  down  last  week.  The  grapes  here  are 
Sweetwater,  and  are  plentiful,  but  this  year  they  were  not 
sweet.  They  are  cheaper  than  Isabella's,  but  I  think  not  much 
better.     We  have  already  had  two  trifling  snow-storms. 

Good-bye,  my  dearest  mother.   Love  to  all,  for  I  am  closing 
in  great  haste. 

Ever  your  affectionate  son, 

J.  L.  M. 


To  his  Mother. 

Dresden, 
April  13lh,  1852. 

My  dearest  Mother, —  ...  As  for  Mary,^  she  will  of  course 

write,  but  the  serious  labour  of  selection  will  probably  devolve 

upon  me.      She    continues    to   retain  her  epistolary  mania, 

which  she  sometimes  wreaks  upon  me,  not  rarely  addressing 

upon  me  billets  and  even  lengthy  letters  while  I  am  in  the 

same  room  with  her.     Poor  little  thing,  both  she  and  Lily 

have  had  a  somewhat  severe  illness,  a  kind  of  catarrhal  fever 

^or  influenza,  which  kept  them  in  bed  and  their  mother  in  a 

70Try  for  a  few  days.     They  have  now  recovered,  but  have  not 

ret  been  out  of  doors,  and  will  not  if  the  sun  declines  to  show 

[his  face  so  resolutely.     I  don't  know  where  he  is,  probably 

[engaged  elsewhere,  starring  it  in  some  more  profitable  region ; 

[at  any  rate  he  is  rarely  visible  here  now-a-days,  not  at  home 

company  at  all  events.      Still  the  season  is  about  three 

Lveeks  in  advance  of  our  spring,  and  there  is  at  least  much 

lore  tacked  to  autumn's  skirts,  so  that  the  vegetable  year  is 

com  six  weeks  to  two  months  longer.      Nature,  death  and 

resurrection  being  brought  just  so  much  the  nearer.      Your 

jcounts  of  winter,  however,  remind  me  that  in  the  American, 

lat  is  New  England,  sense  there  is  no  such  thing  as  winter  here. 

We  have  had  an  absence  of  warmth  rather  than  the  presence 

*  His  second  daughter,  now  Mrs.  Sheridan. 
TOL.  I.  K 


130  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  V. 

of  cold.  Once  or  twice,  but  that  very  rarelj",  we  liad  the  glass 
as  low  as  10°  or  15°  Fahrenheit  above  zero,  but  generally 
the  temperature  in  the  coldest  months  hovered  about  the 
freezing  point,  not  going  much  up  or  down.  The  grass  has 
been  green  two  or  three  weeks,  and  the  shrubbery  is  now  in 
leaf.  We  have  no  blossom  yet,  however,  and  as  the  cherry  and 
plum  trees  are  usually  in  bloom  with  you  by  the  last  week  of 
April  (if  I  am  not  mistaken),  you  see  that  there  is  no  very 
great  difference  after  all.  Thus  far  I  am  disappointed  in  the 
spring.  We  have  had  one  or  two  warm  days,  and  thought 
spring,  that  genial  season  of  which  you  read,  and  of  which  we 
considered  ourselves  to  have  been  defrauded  in  America,  had 
arrived.  We  get  occasionally  a  bright  shiny,  silvery  spring 
day,  fine  as  fourpence,  but  we  are  sure  to  have  to  take  the 
change  for  it  afterwards  in  at  least  six  coppery  and  cloudy 
ones.  Still  the  blackbirds  whistle  away  under  my  windows 
every  morning  as  merrily  as  any  other  little  niggers,  in  spite 
of  the  fog  and  general  grimness  of  the  landscape,  and  there 
is  a  "  glory  in  the  grass,"  and  our  gardener  has  dug  up 
his  half-hardy  roses,  multifloras,  and  monthlies  from  their 
temporary  graves  and  erected  them  again  on  their  respective 
Ebenezers,  and  lettuce  is  already  two  cents  a  head,  while 
asparagus,  owing  to  the  sunless  atmosphere,  remains  obsti- 
nately at  a  groschen  a  spear.  Strange  to  say,  however,  the 
east  wind  seems  as  natural  here  as  if  it  blew  from  the  end  of 
Long  Wharf,  and  it  has  as  bad  a  character  almost  as  with  us. 
It's  very  odd,  but  entirely  true,  that  in  spring  an  east  wind 
is  detestable  and  disreputable  in  every  part  of  the  world 
where  I  have  ever  been.  As  the  Englishman  discovered 
in  Paris,  that  although  the  French  had  no  hread,  they  had  a 
substitute  called  "  pain  "  which  could  be  used  in  the  same  way 
and  which  answered  the  purpose,  so  I  have  always  found 
almost  everywhere  a  very  good  imitation  of  Boston  east  wind ; 
not  quite  equal  to  the  original,  but  sufficient  to  answer  the 
purpose,  a  fact  I  leave  to  the  meteorologists,  at  the  same  time 
boldly  affirming\  that  a  Boston  winter  cannot  be  equalled 
anywhere  in  EurO»pe  so  far  as  I  know,  and  out  of  Eussia  not 
even  imitated,       \ 


I 


1852.]  THE  OPERA  AT  DRESDEN— SONTAG.  181 

Since  Sontaj^  departed  we  have  had  nothing  at  the  Opera. 
She  played  seven  nights  here,  of  which  wo  went  six,  the 
seventh  being  a  repetition  of  a  part  in  which  we  did  not 
admire  her  the  most  (Rosina).  The  best  tickets,  the  best 
places  (and  wo  had  always  the  best  seats  in  the  house,  owing 
to  a  small  douceur  judiciously  administered  to  the  box-keeper) 
cost  three  thalers  (two  dollars  and  fifty  cents)  each.  You  will 
probably  pay  much  more.  It  was  rather  an  extravagance,  but 
jMary  has  not  much  amusement  here  and  she  is  very  fond  of 
music.  I  think  you  cannot  help  being  pleased  with  Sontag, 
and  advise  you  to  go  very  often.  La  Fille  du  Regiment  is  her 
best  part,  but  she  is  quite  charming  in  all.  She  is  very  pretty 
at  forty-seven,  looks  twenty-seven,  is  an  uncommonly  good 
and  graceful  actress  in  light  parts,  and  her  voice,  although  it 
is  of  course  faded,  and  indeed  effaced  as  to  some  of  the  notes, 
is  exceedingly  sweet,  and  she  possesses  to  perfection  the 
flowery,  arabesque,  decorated  style  of  singing,  which  is  so 
rarely  heard.  Of  course  it  is  not  equal  to  the  passionate  and 
tempestuous  style  of  the  Italians,  of  Malibran,  Pasta,  Grisi,  but 
it  comes  next  to  that,  and  is  at  least  perfect  of  its  kind.  She 
was  much  admired  here,  and  the  house  was  always  brimming 
over,  a  thing  which  I  have  not  seen  before  or  since,  although 
the  prices  of  the  seats  were  tripled..  She  is  to  go  to  America 
this  summer.  Lady  Adelaide  Forbes  told  me  the  other  day 
that  she  had  informed  her,  she  should  be  afraid  to  say  what 
immense  offers  she  had  received  from  America,  for  fear  she 
should  not  be  believed.  This  reminds  me  that  we  had  a 
dinner-party  at  Mr.  Forbes's,  the  British  Minister,  a  few  days 
ago.  The  party  was  in  a  manner  given  for  us,  I  believe,  at 
any  rate  he  led  Mary  into  the  dining-room  while  his  sister 
Lady  Adelaide  and*  I  brought  up  tbe  reaj.  The  dinner  was 
very  elegant,  and  Mr.  Forbes  and  his  sisters  were  very  atten- 
tive and  polite  to  Mary,  but  they  receive  company  very 
seldom.  My  dear  mother,  I  have  now  come  to  the  end  of  my 
paper. 

Good-bye,  and  God  biess  you,  dear  mother. 

Your  affectionate  son, 

J.  L.  M. 
K  2 


132  MOTLEY'S  LETTEES.  [Chap.  V. 

To  Ms  Mother. 

Dresden, 
June  22nd,  1852. 

My  dearest  Mothee, — I  really  believe  that  your  letter  of 
May  10th  has  not  been  answered.  I  am  sure  you  will  soon- 
write  again  and  not  punish  me  for  my  negligence  by  silence. 
In  truth  the  time,  now  that  our  course  of  life  has  subsided  into 
a  monotonous  current,  goes  by  so  quickly  that  I  forget  one 
post  day  after  another.  I  can't  say  "  how  happily  the  days  of 
Thalaba  went  by  "  as  an  excuse  for  negligence ;  rather  flows 
the  stream  of  time  so  muddily,  that  but  little  gold  seems  to 
sparkle  in  the  sand  as  it  goes  by.  At  any  rate,  when  I  try  to 
sift  out  a  few  events  that  may  be  worth  the  postage  (fortu- 
nately, however,  you  don't  have  to  pay  it),  nothing  seems  to 
turn  up  but  copper  and  lead.  Spring  has  gone  by  and 
summer  has  come.  The  spring  was  very  like  an  American 
one,  and  at  the  end  of  May  we  were  surprised  by  a  week  of  full- 
blown summer  weather,  just  as  you  seem  to  have  been  at 
home.  It  was  not  quite  so  hot  here,  the  glass  hardly  rising 
much  above  80°  or  81°  Fahrenheit  in  the  shade.  Since  the 
month  of  June  came  in,  it  has  rarely  been  much  above  70°,  and 
there  has  been  rain  very  frequently.  I  am  afraid  a  cold  and 
rainy  summer  is  the  rule  here,  because  I  find  that  those  who 
have  been  long  resident,  complained  bitterly  of  the  heat, 
during  the  few  days  of  summer  weather,  as  something  they 
were  not  used  to,  and  didn't  intend  to  put  up  with.  In  con- 
sequence it  has  been  frigid  enough  ever  since  to  satisfy  an 
Esquimaux.  The  summer  is  generally  improved,  by  people 
who  remain  in  town  here,  in  making  excursions  into  the 
country  in  small  squads.  We  have  been  on  one  or  two.  The 
Noels  got  up  one  a  little  while  since,  a  picnic  to  an  unin- 
habited chateau  on  the  banks  of  the  Elbe.  I  am  not  much  of 
a  hand  at  chronicling  this  sort  of  small  beer,  which  is  apt  to 
get  very  stale  when  it  has  been  once  uncorked,  and  I  had 
hoped  that  it  would  furnish  Lily  or  Mary  with  a  topic  for 
a  letter  or  two,  seeing  that  we  all  complain  so  much  of  the 
want  of  topics. 


1852.]  RESIDENCE  AT  DRESDEN— A  PICNIC.  133 

The  excursion  had  been  projected  for  a  long  time,  and  at 
hist  on  the  day  when  it  was  finally  to  come  ofif,  it  naturally 
rained  in  torrents,  so  of  course  it  was  countermanded,  and  as 
soon  as  that  was  done  the  weather  naturally  began  to  clear. 
So  I-iily's  friend,  O.  Paget,  who  did  duty  as  an  aide-de- 
camp, general  and  chief  clerk  to  the  weather  department, 
after  one  or  two  missions,  again  announced  that  the  Gesell- 
schaft's  wagen  or  company's  waggon  would  soon  be  at  the 
door.  Accordingly  an  enormous  and  wonderful  Noah's  Ark 
soon  appeared  at  the  corner  of  the  street.  "  Six  doors  off  the 
carriage  staid,"  not  so  much  for  fear  that  men  should  say 
that  we  were  proud,  as  because  our  street  was  narrow,  and  the 
machine  could  by  no  possibility  be  insinuated  therein.  It 
had  places  inside  for  eighteen  human  beings,  and  outside  for 
three  quadrupeds — rather  a  liberal  allowance  of  humanity  you 
will  think.  The  precious  souls  all  agog  to  dash  through 
thick  and  thin,  but  who  were  obliged  to  dash  rather  mode- 
rately, as  you  may  suppose,  consisted  generally,  besides 
ourselves,  of  the  Forbes's,  the  Noels,  the  Pagets,  and  her 
daughter-in-law  and  husband.  Countess  and  Count  Bethlen 
from  Hungary,  and  an  English  family.  On  reaching  the 
old  chatee  (as  Mary  used  to  pronounce  the  word),  we  were 
joined  there  by  some  young  ladies  of  the  family  to  which 
it  belongs,  the  daughters  of  an  old  General  von  Miltitz, 
whose  ancestors  have  inhabited  the  spot  for  nine  centuries, 
as  stated  in  a  tablet  on  the  courtyard.  Their  present  re- 
sidence is  a  few  miles  further  down  the  river,  where  they  have 
a  very  beautifully  situated  and  baronial  residence.  The 
young  ladies  were  very  pretty  and  agreeable,  as  agreeable  as 
they  could  be  considering  that  there  were  none  but  middle- 
aged  beaux  provided  for  them,  and  those  all  married.  The 
table  for  a  miscellaneous  entertainment  was  spread  in  the 
<!Ourtyard  of  the  castle,  and  just  as  each  of  the  company  held 
a  potato  on  his  or  her  respective  fork,  down  came  a  mag- 
nificent thunder-storm,  which  had  been  saving  up  for  us  all 
that  time.  Everybody  clasped  his  potato  and  plate  in  agony 
and  rushed  upstairs.  In  moins  de  rien,  as  we  say  in  French, 
the  tables  were  spread  in  "  the  banquet  hall  deserted  "  of  the 


134  MOTLEY'S  LETTEKS.  [Chap.  Y. 

old  chateau.  Everybody  having  held  on  to  his  own  plate  as 
aforesaid,  was  reinstated  in  his  original  rights  on  taking  up 
the  new  position,  which  in  my  opinion  it  would  have  been 
much  better  to  occupy  at  first. 

I  don't  know  that  anything  else  very  remarkable  has 
occurred.  We  met  one  evening  at  the  Forbes's  Lord  Wynford 
and  his  daughter.  The  next  day  they  were  kind  enough  to 
call  upon  us.  A  few  days  afterwards  they  invited  us  to  dinner, 
when  besides  his  family  there  were  nobody  but  the  Lady 
Paulett,  the  Secretary  of  the  English  Legation,  and  another 
youth  belonging  to  some  Spanish  Embassy.  Lord  Wynford 
is  an  uncommonly  agreeable  and  unaffected  person,  and  Miss 
Best  is  also  very  agreeable  and  intelligent.  They  have  cer- 
tainly been  very  friendly  to  us,  and  insist  that  we  shall  visit 
them  at  their  country  place  as  soon  as  we  come  to  England. 
I  believe  these  are  the  only  new  acquaintances  we  have  made 
of  late.  The  Forbes,  I  fear  me,  will  go  before  long.  We 
shall  certainly  go  to  Scotland  some  time  or  other  merely 
to  visit  them.  Good-bye,  my  dearest  mother.  Excuse  this 
hurried  scrawl.     I  will  write  soon  again. 

Love  to  all,  and  believe  me 

Most  affectionately  your  son, 

J.  L.  M. 


To  Ms  Mother. 

Dresden, 
September  13th,  1852, 

My  deabest  Mothek, — I  have  not  answered  your  very 
kind  and  acceptable  letter  of  3rd  August,  the  last  letter  which 
we  have  received  from  anybody.  I  take  it  for  granted  that 
General  Pierce  is  destined  to  win  next  November  in  a  canter ; 
at  any  rate,  to  my  unsophisticated  judgment  out  here  in  the 
Teutonic  wilderness,  I  don't  see  how  it  is  to  be  prevented. 
I  shall  look  anxiously,  however,  for  the  next  intelligence  to 
see  whether  there  is  anything  in  the  contemplated  Southern 
movements  for  Webster.  When,  however,  I  remember  that 
the  Southern  aristocracy  is  always  democratic,  with  the  ex- 


1852.]  RESIDENCE  AT  DRESDEN— THE  GALLERY.  135 

ception  of  one  or  two  Sttites,  I  confess  I  don't  see  much  room 
for  hope.  Perhaps  the  governor  will  enlighten  me  on  the 
subject. 

Our  general  life  here  is  very  calm  and  solitary,  infinitely 
more  so  than  yours  in  Dedham.  Our  acquaintances  are  almost 
all  departed,  some  few  to  return,  others  for  good.  Our 
garden  is  very  beautiful,  and  I  wish  daily  that  you  could  see 
it  once  in  a  while,  for  you  would  appreciate  it.  We  have  had 
a  constant  succession  and  profusion  of  every  flower  known 
to  horticulture — I  mean  to  hardy  horticulture.  The  roses  in 
their  season  were  uncommonly  fine,  and  now  there  is  a  wilder- 
ness of  dahlias,  asters,  gladioli,  and  day  lilies,  geraniums, 
fuchsias,  and  countless  others.  In  the  midst  of  the  garden  is 
a  sandbank,  and  in  the  midst  of  the  sandbank  may  be  seen 
burrowing,  at  any  hour  between  noon  and  night,  Susie  and 
Mary,  with  their  friends  Adolf  and  Lulu,  children  of  Madame 
de  Rumohr,  the  lady  who  occupies  the  other  part  of  our  house. 
I  regret  to  say  that  she  leaves  Dresden  before  the  winter. 
Our  young  Prince  is  going  to  Prussia  to  enter  the  army,  and 
Captain  de  Rumohr  accompanies  him  to  Berlin.  We  shall 
miss  them  all  very  much,  for  they  are  very  amiable,  kind- 
hearted  people.  The  Prince  is  quite  a  nice-looking,  good- 
tempered  young  man  of  twenty,  with  very  agreeable  manners. 
The  Captain  is  a  very  intelligent  and  amiable  man  about  my 
age.  The  eldest  brother  of  the  Prince  has  just  assumed  the 
government  of  his  principality  on  attaining  his  majority. 
Waldeck  is  the  name. 

The  gallery  remains  as  much  a  resource  as  ever.  I  find  that 
I  have  (and  Mary  also)  a  most  sincere  and  unlimited  love  for 
the  fine  arts,  and  particularly  for  painting.  I  am  pretty  well 
persuaded  that  the  *  Madonna  di  San  Sisto  '  is  the  first  picture 
in  the  world.  I  don't  think  any  painter  has  ever  so  well  hit  the 
exact  combination  of  the  supernatural  with  the  natural  which 
is  always  attempted  in  the  face  of  the  Infant  Saviour.  The 
expression,  without  ceasing  to  be  that  of  an  infant,  has  still 
something  infinitely  imposing  and  majestic.  The  Madonna  is 
faultlessly  beautiful  and  very  human,  yet  there  is  an  expression 
beyond  humanity ;  not  elevated,  for  it  is  humble  ;  not  trium- 


136  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  V. 

phant,  for  it  is  sad  ;  but  prophetic  and  wondering,  as  of  a  face 
gazing  vaguely  but  earnestly  into  the  depths  of  the  future,  and 
dimly  conscious  of  the  coming  struggles  of  humanity.  There 
is  a  sentiment  that  the  child  in  her  arms  is  the  Saviour  and 
the  Judge  of  unborn  millions ;  there  is  the  submission  of  a 
mortal  to  a  superhuman  destiny ;  there  are  tenderness,  patience, 
pathos,  and  transfiguration  above  the  clouds  of  common 
emotions  ;  everything,  in  short,  which  painters  have  from  the 
beginning  of  Christian  art  endeavoured  to  typify  by  that  mys- 
terious image,  the  Madonna.  I  don't  think  that  it  is  possible 
to  exaggerate  the  beauties  of  this  picture  with  regard  to  its 
suggestive  effects.  It  has  no  fault  as  a  composition,  which 
is  a  great  virtue,  for  even  Eaphael  often  has  something  which 
jars  upon  the  mind,  even  in  his  most  harmonious  pictures. 
But  here  there  is  nothing  discordant — everything  is  musical. 
The  Madonna  and  Child  are  inexpressibly  beautiful  and 
lofty,  the  venerable  figure  of  the  kneeling  pope  is  full  of 
piety  and  fervour.  The  Barbara  is  a  model  of  grace  and 
modesty,  and  the  two  cherubs  at  the  base  of  the.  picture  are 
exquisite  expressions  of  innocence  and  infantine  devotion. 

As  you  are  perfectly  familiar  with  the  composition  by  the 
engraving,  I  do  not  apologise  for  speaking  of  the  picture, 
otherwise  I  should  do  so,  for  I  hold  that  to  have  to  listen  to 
the  description  of  a  painting  of  which  you  have  never  seen  any 
copy  or  sketch  is  an  infinite  nuisance.  I  said  that  this  picture 
was  the  best  in  the  world,  and  I  have  tried  to  explain  why  I 
think  so.  Because  it  is  the  highest  flight  into  the  regions  of 
the  sublime  and  beautiful  to  which  the  mind  of  Eaphael  ever 
attained.  I  never  wish  to  criticise  it.  It  hushes  criticism. 
It  is  the  only  picture  which  awes  me  into  silence.  When  I 
go  away  I  readily  admit  that  there  are  many  paintings  much 
superior  as  works  of  art.  It  does  not  compare  to  the  '  Trans- 
figuration,' nor  to  Titian's  '  Ascension,'  nor  to  Kubens' 
*  Descent  from  the  Cross,'  as  a  finished  exhibition  of  colour 
and  handling  and  technical  power.  There  is  in  truth  but 
little  colour,  and  that  is  fading.  It  looks  almost  like  a  fresco 
already.  The  body  of  the  Child  is  a  mere  smooch  of  lamp- 
black, the  shadows  are  generally  without  transparency,  except 


1852.]  THE  MADONNA  DI  SAN  SISTO.  137 

in  the  drapery,  which  has  been  retouched.  The  face  of  the 
Virgin,  however,  is  exquisitely  coloured,  and  that  of  the 
Child,  although  by  no  means  strongly  painted,  has  still  warm, 
life-like  tints.  The  truth  is,  the  picture  is  a  sketch  wholly 
from  the  hand  of  Raphael,  and  dashed  oflf  in  a  moment  of 
enthusiasm.  It  is  thought  that  it  was  painted  fcyr  a  banner  to 
he  carried  in  a  procession.  Only  imagine  a  wonder  of  the 
world  originating  in  such  a  way.  Of  course  a  standard  is 
only  a  peg  above  a  sign. 

Nothing  is  known  of  its  history.  Contemporary  writers 
don't  speak  of  it.  I  don't  know  that  there  is  any  historical 
proof  that  Raphael  painted  it.  Ten  or  fifteen  years  ago 
they  found  that  the  top  of  the  picture  behind  the  frame 
was  closely  rolled,  and  the  canvas  cut  into  such  a  shape 
as  to  make  it  probable  that  it  had  been  fastened  on  a 
pole.  This  idea  seems  to  explain  the  thin,  sketchy,  and 
slight  manner  in  which  the  whole  was  executed  Raphael, 
having  dashed  it  off  at  a  few  heats  (some  people  talk  most 
ridiculously  of  eighteen  hours  as  the  whole  time  occupied 
upon  it),  probably  thought  it  good  enough  for  a  banner,  and 
gave  it  to  the  monks  of  Piacenza  without  thinking  more  of 
the  matter.  And  in  the  refectory  of  the  jolly  friars  it  re- 
mained till  the  middle  of  the  last  centurj-^,  when  it  was 
purchased  for  $20,000.  I  suppose  it  would  be  worth  a  king's 
ransom  now  if  offered  for  sale,  and  kings  have  risen  lately  as 
well  as  Raphaels. 

The  engraving  by  Miiller  gives  a  very  good  idea  of  the 
composition.  Even  that  old  thing  which  we  left  at  home, 
which  you  have  often  seen,  an  impression  taken  after  the 
plate  had  been  retouched  over  and  over  again,  and  was  almost 
worn  through,  is  worth  looking  at.  It  is^  perhaps,  the  best 
engraving  which  was  ever  made  of  any  picture.  Of  course 
you  can  form  no  idea  of  the  value  by  looking  at  one  of 
these  worn-out  impressions.  Ours  has  nothing  left  of  the 
original  power  or  beauty  of  the  engraving,  it  serves  only  as 
a  memorandum  of  the  composition.  It  cost  $5.  The  value  of 
a  copy  before  the  letter,  when  it  can  be  found,  is  1000  thalers, 
say  $750.     I  don't  mean  to  purchase  one  even  if  I  find  it. 


138  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  V. 

The  King  has  got  six,  but  I  have  not  heard  that  he  thinks 
of  sending  one  to  me !  Miiller's  engraving  is  really  a  work 
of  genius.  Yet  one  would  think  the  engraver's  profession 
must  make  a  man  of  genius  frantic.  To  work  upside  down, 
scratching  away  upon  a  half-covered  plate  of  copper  with  a 
kind  of  cobbler's  awl,  producing  no  effect  from  day  to  day, 
being  obliged  to  wait  so  long  before  an  opinion  as  to  the 
result  can  be  formed,  must  be  a  severe  trial  to  the  nerves,  and 
seems  enough  to  drive  an  impatient  person  mad.  And  by 
the  way  Miiller  did  go  mad  over  this  very  engraving.  Poor 
fellow  !  he  was  so  excited,  exhausted,  and  used  up  after 
finishing  it  that  his  brain  was  turned.  He  jumped  off  a 
precipice  and  broke  his  neck. 

Besides  the  gallery,  there  are  a  great  many  other  remark- 
able collections  in  Dresden.  These  and  the  beautiful  en- 
virons of  the  city  have  made  its  fame.  The  engraving 
cabinet  is  perhaps  the  best  in  the  world.  It  contains  four 
hundred  thousand  prints,  comprising  a  full  history  and  exem- 
plification of  the  progress  of  the  art,  and  of  course  a  large 
supply  of  all  that  is  most  masterly  and  curious  and  celebrated 
among  its  achievements.  Then  there  is  the  collection  of 
rarities  and  dbjets  de  gout  and  jewellery,  called  the  Green 
Yault,  the  name  given  to  a  series  of  rooms  in  the  royal 
palace  where  the  remarkable  museum  of  trinkets  is  kept.  All 
sorts  of  beautiful  toys,  statuettes,  drinking  cups,  carved  in 
ivory  ;  exquisite  cabinets  and  caskets  of  every  age,  of  mother- 
of-pearl,  agate,  amber,  ivory,  buhl  and  ormolu,  adorned  with 
topazes,  emeralds,  rubies,  carbuncles,  sometimes  of  very  con- 
siderable value;  magnificent  goblets  and  basins  of  silver, 
carved,  engraved,  embossed  by  the  hands  of  the  most  eminent 
jewellers  of  the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries ;  beautiful 
paintings  in  enamel,  splendid  vases,  clocks  in  Louis  XIV. 
style,  and  in  style  much  earlier  and  much  richer  than  that 
of  Louis  XIV.,  with  numerous  puppets  once  bobbing  about 
and  performing  all  sorts  of  antics  in  obedience  to  the  same 
machinery  which  moved  the  hands,  but  now  silent  and 
motionless,  run  down  and  worn  out,  used  up  for  ever ;  splendid 
tables  of  Flor.^ntine  mosaics,  jars  and  obelisks  of  jasper,  sar- 


1852]  DRESDEN— THE  GREEN   VAULTS.  139 

(lonyx  and  chalcedon  ;  drinking  horns,  baptismal  fonts,  lavers 
and  wine  coolers,  all  of  beaten  gold ;  caskets  of  elaborate 
workmanship  crusted  all  over  with  beryls,  sapphires,  diamonds, 
and  rubies  as  thickly  as  Aaron's  breastplate  or  ephod,  or 
whatever  you  call  it,  which  contained  all  the  precious  stones 
in  the  world,  besides  others  ;  bushels  of  intaglios  and  cameos, 
both  antique  and  modern ;  curious  cuttings  in  wood  and  ala- 
baster, two  small  and  very  singular  landscapes  or  hunting 
pieces  in  waxwork,  so  minutely  done  that  the  leaves  on  the 
trees,  the  nails  in  the  horses'  shoes,  the  lace  on  the  riders' 
ruffles  are  distinctly  finished. 

Perhaps,  however,  the  most  remarkable  part  of  the  col- 
lection is  the  complete  department  of  the  works  of  Dinglinger, 
the  Saxon  Benvenuto  Cellini,  a  man  who  wasted  a  good  deal 
of  real  genius  and  the  whole  of  his  life  in  the  production 
of  these  curious  and  exquisite,  but,  after  all,  somewhat  taste- 
less toys.  There  are  whole  rows  of  monster  pearls,  some 
of  them  as  large  as  a  pullet's  egg,  but  so  mis-shapen  and 
imbedded  in  their  shells  as  to  be  inseparable  from  them. 
These,  according  to  the  taste  of  the  seventeenth  century, 
have  been  made  use  of  as  caricatures,  legs  and  arms,  heads 
and  wings  having  been  ingeniously  fitted  to  them,  so 
that  they  furnish  counterfeit  presentiments  of  little  niggers, 
Dutch  women  skating,  cobblers  and  pedlars,  humpbacks  and 
cripples,  dragons,  goblins,  and  chimeras  dire  with  tails  and 
without,  and  a  whole  wilderness  of  monkeys,  lizards,  toads, 
and  other  oddities,  as  curious  and  expensive  a  collection  of 
gew-gaws  as  could  well  be  found  in  Christendom,  and  a  most 
wonderful  baby  house,  not  without  beauty,  and  even  utility, 
in  its  way,  but  one  not  likely  to  be  formed  again  by  anybody. 
Perhaps  the  most  curious  thing  in  the  .whole  museum  is  a 
representation  ol  the  Court  of  the  Grand  Mogul  Aurengzeb, 
who  sits  on  his  throne  in  the  centre,  and  is  surrounded  by 
hundreds  of  figures  in  every  variety  of  costume  known  to  that 
region  as  described  by  travellers.  This  is  Dinglinger's  master- 
piece. It  occupied  him  seven  years  (from  a.d.  1701-1708), 
and  he  received  for  it  59,000  thalers,  about  $45,000.  Certainly 
an  expensive  toy.    Ask  the  governor  to  calculate  how  much 


140  MOTLEY'S  LETTEKS.  [Chap.  V. 

the  money  would  have  come  to  if  kept  in  the  savings  bank 
to  this  day.  For  his  behoof  I  have  given  the  date  as  above. 
The  *  Madonna  di  San  Sisto '  was  a  better  speculation  viewed 
in  that  ignoble  light,  but  I  doubt  if  Dinglinger's  chef  d'oeuvre 
would  bring  much  if  offered  for  sale  now. 

The  old  Electors  of  Saxony  had  a  turn  for  the  magnificent. 
I  could  fill  a  dozen  more  sheets  by  telling  you  of  the  different . 
museums  which  they  have  here.  The  armour  collection  is  re- 
markably fine,  for  example — one  of  the  first  in  Europe.  The 
Elector  Christian  II.,  who  died  at  the  close  of  the  sixteenth 
century,  had  no  less  than  ten  suits  of  armour,  of  which  one 
was  by  the  most  celebrated  armourer  of  Germany,  Holman  of 
Augsburg,  and  another  was  by  the  world-renowned  Benvenuto 
Cellini.  This  last  is  a  most  interesting  object  of  art,  and 
stamped  throughout  with  the  genius  of  that  remarkable  per- 
sonage. It  is  a  complete  panoply  for  the  horse  and  rider,  is  of 
hammered  steel,  and  is  covered  all  over  with  the  most  exquisite 
sculpture  or  alto  relievo,  representing  the  wars  of  the  gods,  the 
combats  of  centaurs,  and  other  mythological  battles,  all  pour- 
trayed  with  the  boldness,  accuracy,  and  beauty  which  always 
distinguishes  the  hand  of  the  man  who  made  the  statue  of 
Perseus  at  Florence.  After  all,  it  is  a  luxury  to  have  your  toys 
by  Dinglinger,  your  Madonnas  by  Eaphael,  and  your  coats  of 
armour  by  Benvenuto  Cellini.  Those  Saxon  princes,  obscure 
as  they  were,  except  in  the  Lutheranism  which  they  have 
since  repudiated,  certainly  knew  how  to  spend  their  money 
like  gentlemen. 

And  now  add  to  the  advantages  here  enumerated  a  magni- 
ficent library  of  450,000  volumes,  and  very  excellent  oppor- 
tunities for  education,  besides  a  very  beautiful  and  picturesque 
country  surrounding  the  city  in  all  directions,  and  you  will 
understand  why  Dresden  is  so  often  selected  as  a  residence. 
It  is  a  dull  little  place  no  doubt,  but  I  like  it  the  better  for 
that.  It  is  better  for  dull  little  people  like  ourselves.  If  I 
could  get  the  hang  of  it,  I  could  live  as  well  for  $2500  as  in 
Boston  for  $5000.  Unfortunately  it  always  takes  as  much 
time  as  you  can  spare  for  a  place  to  learn  to  live  in  it.     The 


1852.]  RESIDENCE  AT  DRESDEN.  141 

and  the  governor,  and  to  all.  Susie's  mind  is  beginning  to 
expand.  She  told  me  last  night  that  when  she  was  a  thousand 
millions  years  old  she  should  know  how  to  sew,  and  should  be 
as  big  as  the  washerwoman.  Rather  a  commonplace  result  to 
contemplate  through  so  long  a  vista.  Good-bye,  my  dear 
mother.     My  paper  is  exhausted,  and  your  patience. 

Ever  affectionately  your  son, 

J.  L.  M. 


To  his  Father. 

Dresden, 
May  18th,  1852. 

My  dear  Father, — My  last  despatch  was,  I  think,  about  a 
month  ago,  and  included  a  letter  to  Tom,  and  another  to 
mother.  Since  that  time  we  have  had  the  pleasure  of  receiv- 
ing a  letter  from  Susan  and  another  from  Lodge.  There  has 
literally  been  nothing  on  our  side  of  the  world  to  communi- 
cate.   Political  events  and  general  news  reach  you  from  the 

^great  centres  of  intelligence  quite  as  soon  as  they  do  us. 

:  There  is  so  little  active  existence,  and  so  little  interest  felt,  or 

I  allowed  to  be  felt,  in  what  is  going  on  in  the  world  around, 
that  one  soon  finds  the  old-fashioned  drowsy  Rip  Van  Winkle 

[feeling  coming  over  him,  and  begins  to  think  on  the  whole 
that  it  is  better  to  be  governed  than  to  govern,  to  accept  a 
paternal  government  as  ordained  from  heaven,  and  to  behave 

•as  good  boys  should,  go  to  bed  at  ten,  shut  the  door  after  you, 
smoke  a  pipe,  drink  a  pot  of  beer,  listen  every  day  to  a 
groschen- worth  of  instrumental  music,  never  allude  to  politics, 

[jior  to  anything  which  interests  grown-up  men,  but  leave  all 
that  to  your  betters,  and  rely  for  your  personal  and  political 
jights  on  the  Emperor  of  Russia,  and  Austria,  and  the  police, 

[and  so  "easy  live  and  quiet  die,"  as  comfortable  burghers 
should. 

There  is  something  almost  refreshing  in  the  utter  inanity 

'which  seems  to  form  the  atmosphere  of  these  peoples*  lives, 
which  is  refreshing  for  a  time,  after  the  noisy  splutter- 
ing politics  which  constitute  our  vital  elements.     I  don't 


142  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  V. 

think  I  should  like  it  always,  but  now  occupied  as  I  am  ten 
hours  a  day,  with  folks  who  lived  three  centuries  ago,  it  is 
rather  a  convenience  than  otherwise  not  to  have  my  attention 
taken  off  by  anything  that  is  going  on  about  me.  It  is  a 
comfort,  as  I  can't  make  speeches  or  write  articles  in  the 
newspapers  (if  I  wished)  against  General  Haynau,  or  Emperor 
Nicholas,  or  President  Bonaparte,  to  be  able  to  pitch  into  the 
Duke  of  Alva  and  Philip  the  Second  to  my  heart's  content. 
It  is  quite  satisfactory  to  express  sentiments,  which  if  I  had 
the  advantage  of  living  three  hundred  years  ago,  and  had  had 
the  audacity  to  express  myself  as  freely,  would  have  entitled 
me  to  be  burned  alive  on  an  average  twice  a  day,  and  to 
know  that  the  only  martyrdom  I  am  likely  to  experience  is 
that  of  not  finding  a  publisher  for  my  treason,  for  fear  that  it 
won't  pay ;  the  only  rack  that  of  being  roasted  on  the  gridiron 
of  some  singeing,  scorching,  red-hot  review. 

I  have  just  finished  volume  JSTo.  2,  begun  since  I  wias  esta- 
blished here,  that  is  about  a  seven  months'  child.  A  year  more 
will  carry  me  as  far  as  I  mean  to  go  alone,  particularly  as  the 
expense  of  publishing  three  volumes  at  my  own  risk,  which 
perhaps  I  shall  be  obliged  to  do,  will  be  as  much  as  I  shall 
choose  to  venture.  I  don't  fear  much  of  a  loss,  although  I 
shan't  stand  much  chance  of  making  a  fortune.  At  the  same 
time  I  don't  care  to  venture  much  more.  Money  is  a  thing 
of  which  I  haven't  quite  as  much  to  spare  as  time  and  labour. 
These  I  am  very  profuse  with.  Time  they  say  is  money.  No 
doubt  of  it,  only  I  never  could  get  mine  into  active  circulation. 
Labour  is  the  foundation  of  all  value.  Equally  certain  it  is, 
then,  that  I  have  been  digging  a  cellar  big  enough,  and  lay- 
ing a  foundation  extensive  enough,  for  a  most  valuable  edifice, 
if  one  would  only  brings  his  pigs  to  market.  Still  there  is 
something  very  healing  in  these  portable  maxims.  You  can 
always  stick  one  like  a  piece  of  court  plaster  over  the  wounds 
of  your  vanity.  Moreover  it  should  never  be  forgotten  that 
Milton's '  Paradise  Lost '  was  sold  for  £5,  that  Samuel  Johnson's 
*  Dictionary '  brought  him  in  about  as  much  for  his  labour  as  if 
he  had  been  sawing  wood  or  sweeping  a  crossing.  Further- 
more Galileo  confes.sed  before  the  Inquisition  that  the  earth 


i 


1852.]  PROGRESS  OF  THE  HISTORY.  143 

didn't  move,  and  Harvey  was  langhed  at  for  circulating  a 
story  about  the  circulation  of  the  blood  ;  so  whenever  a  char- 
latan can't  find  any  to  believe  in  his  tricks  of  mesmerism  or 
biologism,  or  whatever  may  be  the  latest  neologism,  when  a 
literary  blockhead  can't  sell  a  book,  he  has  only  to  call  from 
the  vasty  deep  the  spirits  of  Milton  and  Galileo  and  Harvey, 
Dr.  Johnson  and  Dr.  Jenner,  and  all  the  rest.  They  are  sure 
to  come  when  called  for,  being  no  doubt  by  this  time  quite 
used  to  the  business ;  though  they  probably  think  that  their 
last  condition  is  worse  than  their  first,  being  thus  obliged  to 
console  and  sanction  so  much  mediocrity.  So  if  a  man  can't 
make  anything  of  his  writings,  it  proves  nothing  but  that  he 
is  probably  a  second  Milton  in  disguise. 

I  wish  you  would  say  to  Mr.  Ticknor,  with  my  particular 
regards,  that  I  should  have  written  to  him  before  this,  as 
a  slight  acknowledgment  of  the  friendly  interest  he  took  in 
providing  me  with  introductions  and  advice  before  starting, 
but  that  I  was  really  ashamed  to  write  so  very  uninteresting 
a  letter  from  Europe  as  mine  must  necessarily  be  at  present. 
To  one's  immediate  family  one  can  write  about  oneself,  but 
it  is  a  most  disagreeable  and  barren  topic  to  me,  and  we 
live  so  retired,  and  see  so  little,  that  beyond  the  incidents 
of  our  family  circle  there  is  nothing  to  state.  We  might 
as  well  be  on  the  Charles  as  on  the  Elbe ;  at  the  same 
time  I  have  enough  time  to  do  my  work,  and  the  children, 
particularly  Lily,  who  is  really  making  progress,  are  very 
well  disposed  of.  I  have  not  (as  Mr.  Ticknor  knows,  I  be- 
lieve), presented  myself  at  Court.  Mr.  Forbes  and  his 
sisters,  owing  to  the  letters  given  by  Mr.  Ticknor  and  Mrs. 
Eitchie,  have  been  very  friendly,  invited  us  to  a  dinner,  and 
offered  all  that  we  can  require  whenever  we  wish  to  go  into 
general  society.  Moreover  please  say  to  Mr.  Ticknor,  that 
after  the  Court  festivities  were  finished,  I  thought  it  proper  to 
pay  my  respects  to  Prince  John  of  Saxony,^  who  is  a  regular 
correspondent  and  friend  of  Mr.  Ticknor.  I  called  in  com- 
pany with  my  friend  Noel  on  Baron  O'Bryan  (not  an  Irishman, 
but  of  Irish  distraction),  the  head  chamberlain  of  the  Prince. 
*  Subse<iuently  King  of  Saxony,  father  of  the  present  King. 


144  MOTLEY'S  LETTEES.  [Chap.  V. 

A  few  days  afterwards  the  said  Baron  called  on  me  in  a 
friendly  way,  and  said  the  Prince  would  be  happy  to  receive 
me  the  next  day  informally.  I  went  accordingly,  and  had 
an  interview  of  half  an  hour  with  his  Highness,  who  re- 
ceived me  with  great  kindness.  Mr.  Ticknor  had  been  good 
enough  to  mention  me  to  him,  and  he  hoped  therefore,  as  I 
purposed  staying  another  year,  to  cultivate  my  acquaintance, 
etc.,  etc.  He  spoke  with  much  affection  and  respect  of  Mr. 
Ticknor,  and  alluded  in  terms  of  high  praise  to  his  History. 
He  also  spoke  of  Prescott's  works,  particularly  the  '  Conquest  of 
Mexico,'  with  admiration.  Please  also  by  the  way  to  inform 
Prescott,  that  if  I  meet  with  anybody,  prince  or  plebeian,  who 
don't  ask  me  about  him,  I  will  be  sure  to  write  and  let  him 
know.  It  will  be  rather  refreshing  than  otherwise.  I  find  by 
the  way  that  his  Highness  had  just  that  morning  received  a 
fresh  letter  from  Mr.  Ticknor,  which  he  had  not  had  time  to 
read,  but  of  these  matters  of  course  there  is  no  need  of  my 
writing.  As  Mr.  Ticknor  by  the  way  has  so  good  a  corre- 
spondent at  Dresden,  it  would  hardly  be  necessary  for  me  to 
apologise  for  not  troubling  him.  You  are  perhaps  aware  that 
the  said  Prince  John  would  have  been  a  distinguished  pro- 
fessor, if  he  had  not  happened  to  be  born  in  the  purple.  It  is 
not  as  a  Prince  merely,  that  his  acquaintance  was  worth  culti- 
vating. Mr.  Ticknor  might  have  said  to  him,  as  Yoltaire  did 
to  Congreve  when  he  was  disposed  to  sink  the  shop  and  put 
on  the  fine  gentleman,  "  If  you  had  only  your  genteel  birth, 
it  would  have  been  long  before  I  should  have  sought  your 
acquaintance."  Prince  John's  translation  of  Dante's  '  Divina 
Commedia'  has  really  great  merit.  The  notes  and  illustra- 
tions, furnishing  a  running  commentary  on  that  great  poem, 
have  been  translated  and  are  much  esteemed  in  Italy.  He 
certainly  received  me  with  great  politeness,  and  I  beg  you  to 
express  my  thanks  to  Mr.  Ticknor  for  having  taken  so  much 
trouble  about  us,  which  our  inclination  for  retirement  and 
obscurity  has  prevented  our  turning  to  so  much  account  as  we 
should  have  done. 

Our  society  consists  principally  of  the  persons  already 
introduced  to  you  in  previous  letters.     The  Noels  (Mrs.  N. 


1852]  LIFE  AT  DRESDEN.  145 

by  the  way  is  a  near  relation  and  friend  of  "Mr.  Ticknor's 
friends,  the  Counts  Thun,  she  is  a  Bohemian  and  a  very 
amiable  person),  the  Pagets,  the  Mellys  (Americans)  and  the 
Forbes's.  These  last,  a  mother  and  two  daughters,  are  distant 
relations,  and  intimate  acquaintances  of  the  Minister  here. 
They  are  the  most  affectionate  people  in  the  world.  Lily 
speaks  French  certainly  as  well  as  I  do,  and  begins  to  speak 
<jrermau  very  tolerably,  and  in  general  matters  she  is  in  quite 
A  satisfactory  condition  of  mental  health  and  improvement. 
Mary  has  not  yet  found  a  school.  We  have  sent  her  to 
&  kindergarten  (child's  garden),  but  this  is  nothing  more  than 
an  infant's  school,  and  she  already  reads  German  better 
than  the  little  children  there.  Speaking,  too,  she  can  prac- 
tise with  her  little  Eumohr  friends  and  neighbours,  and 
the  bonne  is  quite  competent  to  give  her  lessons.  As  for 
Susie  she  is  as  sweet  and  saucy  as  ever,  much  the  most 
axmiable  of  all  the  children,  and  therefore  much  the  more 
spoiled.  She  takes  a  great  deal  of  spoiling,  which  I  consider 
high  praise.  Lily  and  I  took  a  long  walk  yesterday  in  the 
Grosser  Garten,  or  Park.  When  we  got  back  about  seven  in 
.the  afternoon  she  said  :  **  This  is  just  the  time  I  used  to  go 
and  sit  with  grandmamma  on  the  piazza,  I  wish  I  could  go  to- 
night." You  may  be  sure  I  echoed  the  wish  most  heartily, 
though  hopelessly. 

Most  affectionately  your  son, 

J.  L.  M. 


To  his  Father. 

Dresden, 
^  December  23rd,  1852. 

My  dear  Father, — Our  life  is  as  usual  monotonous,  fur- 
nishing few  topics  for  letters.  I  am  working  as  hard  as  a 
wood  sawyer,  and  am  of  course  as  independent  as  his  clerk. 
I  find  the  atmosphere  congenial  to  literary  labour,  or  perhaps 
because  my  time  is  so  wholly  my  own,  I  have  it  more  ia 
my  power  to  make  long  pulls  without  getting  out  of  the 
traces.     I  dare  say,  like  the  remarkable  cab  horse  immor- 

VOL.  I.  L 


146  3I0TLEY'S  LETTEKS.  [Chap.  V. 

talised  by  Pickwick,  I  should  fall  flat  if  taken  out  of  the 
shafts,  and  I  only  keep  up  because  I  keep  a-going.  That 
you  may  see  that  this  is  not  an  idle  brag  so  far  as  work 
goes,  I  will  state  that  I  have  written  a  volume  since  the  13th 
July  of  this  year,  one  which  will  make  rather  a  large  printed 
octavo,  and  which  is  the  second  that  I  have  written  since 
I  came  to  Dresden.  As  this  labour  includes  of  course  the 
digging  out  of  raw  material  out  of  subterranean  depths  of 
black-letter  folios  in  half  a  dozen  different  languages,  all 
which  works  are  dark,  grimy,  and  cheerless  as  coal  pits,  you 
may  suppose  that  I  am  not  likely  to  be  a  very  agreeable 
customer  when  I  come  out  of  my  diggings.  The  worst  of  it 
is  when  a  man  is  smashing  quartz  with  a  sledge  hammer  he 
gets  paid  for  his  pains  ;  but  here  am  I  working  away  with  my 
pick-axe  or  sifting  painfully  the  sand  of  buried  ages  over 
which  the  river  of  Time  has  so  long  been  flowing,  and  yet  I 
don't  know  whether  I  shall  at  last  find  a  few  grains  of  pure  gold 
in  my  cradle,  to  reward  me  for  my  labours.  Metaphorically,  of 
course,  not  literally,  for  I  don't  employ  myself  in  writing  and 
studying  history  to  make  money  out  of  it.  "  Base "  as  the 
"  slave  who  pays  "  is  the  slave  who  pursues  money  and  not 
truth  in  any  scientific  field. 

But  I  confess  that  I  have  not  been  working  under  ground 
for  so  long  without  hoping  that  I  may  make  some  few  people 
in  the  world  wiser  and  better  by  my  labour.  This  must  be 
the  case  whenever  a  man  honestly  "  seeks  the  truths  in  ages 
past "  to  furnish  light  for  the  present  and  future  track.  And 
if  you  only  get  enough  oil  to  feed  a  very  small  lamj)  it 
is  better  than  nothing.  A  little  lantern  may  help  you  to 
find  an  honest  man  or  so  in  the  dark  corridor  of  history ;  but 
not  if  you  look  for  them  in  the  spirit  of  Diogenes.  It  is 
always  much  harder  to  find  commendable  than  accusable 
characters  in  the  world,  partly  perhaps  because  the  world 
likes  better  to  censure  than  to  commend.  I  flatter  myself 
that  I  have  found  one  great,  virtuous  and  heroic  character, 
"William  the  First  of  Orange,  founder  of  the  Dutch  Ee- 
public.  This  man,  who  did  the  work  of  a  thousand  men  every 
year  of  his   life,  who   was  never  inspired  by  any  personal 


1852.]  DEATU  OF  DA^^EL  WEBSTER.  147 

ambition,  but  who  performed  good  and  lofty  actions  because 
he  was  born  to  do  them,  just  as  other  men  have  been  born  to 
do  nasty  ones,  deserves  to  be  better  understood  than  I  believe 
him  to  have  been  by  the  world  at  large.  He  is  one  of  the 
very  few  men  who  have  a  right  to  be  mentioned  in  the  same 
page  with  Washington. 

Christmas,  Saturday. — I  was  interrupted  the  day  before 
yesterday,  and  my  letter  has  lain  unfinished  in  my  drawer  till 
now.  ...  I  have  the  greatest  sympathy  for  you  and  the 
country  for  the  loss  of  Daniel  Webster.  It  is  one  which 
can  never  be  made  good  to  us.  He  was  not  only  the 
greatest  living  statesman,  but  the  greatest  whom  we  ever 
produced  in  America,  so  much  beyond  all  of  them  past  and 
present  in  intellectual  force,  that  it  is  hardly  a  compliment  to 
speak  of  him  as  first  among  the  political  men  of  the  country. 
Very  little  is  known  of  him  in  Europe.  On  the  Continent  few 
have  ever  heard  his  name.  One  literary  old  maid,  who  has. 
written  and  published  books,  asked  me  if  he  was  not  one  of 
our  principal  poets,  and  then  when  I  laughed,  confessed  she 
had  never  heard  of  him.  Yet  she  had  lived  fifteen  years  in 
England.  The  English  had  of  course  heard  of  him,  and  he 
was  known  to  the  statesmen ;  but  nobody  imagines  that  he  was 
a  personage  to  be  compared  to  their  great  men,  and  probably 
not  one  hundred  men  on  the  continent  of  Europe  has  ever  read 
a  line  of  his  speeches,  if  indeed  there  be  as  many  who  knew 
that  he  ever  made  any.  The  fact  is,  no  interest  is  felt  in 
America  or  American  institutions  among  the  European  public. 
America  is  as  isolated  as  China.  Nobody  knows  or  cares  any- 
thing about  its  men,  or  its  politics,  or  its  conditions.  It  is, 
however,  known  and  felt  among  the  lower  classes,  that  it  is  a 
place  to  get  to  out  of  the  monotonous  prison  house  of  Philis- 
tines, in  which  the  great  unwashed  of  Europe  continue  to 
grind  eternally.  Very  little  is  known  of  the  country,  and 
very  little  respect  is  felt  for  it,  but  the  fact  remains  that 
Europe  is  decanting  itself  into  America,  a  great  deal  more 
rapidly  than  is  to  be  wished  by  us. 

When  I  say  that  nothing  is  known  about  America,  I  am 
wrong.     Everybody  knows  that  slavery  exists  there,  for  every- 

L  2 


148  MOTLEY'S  LETTEES.  [Chap.  V. 

body  in  Germany  has  read  *  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin.'  I  am 
glad  of  it,  because  I  believe  the  only  way  the  curse  is  ever 
to  be  taken  from  the  nation  is  by  creating  such  an  atmo- 
sphere all  round  the  Slave  States,  that  a  slaveholder  may 
not  be  able  to  thrust  his  nose  outside  his  own  door  without 
scenting  that  the  rankness  of  his  offence  is  tainting  every 
wind  of  heaven.  The  only  way  in  which  the  system  can 
cease  to  exist  is,  it  seems  to  me,  by  working  the  children  of 
the  present  slaveholders.  The  coming  generation  in  each 
of  the  fifteen  Slave  States  are  the  people  who  must  grapple 
with  this  question ;  but  the  question  won't  be  staved  off  for  a 
third.  It  is  all  up  for  your  generation  or  for  mine.  If  one 
or  two  States,  like  Kentucky  and  Tennessee,  should  come  to 
abolish  the  system  and  should  succeed,  well ;  afterwards  the 
great  obstacles  would  be  removed.  Of  course,  the  black  race  is 
not  by  nature  capable  of  social  or  intellectual  equality  with 
the  white ;  nor  have  they  ever  desired  it  so  far  as  I  know. 
But  it  is  begging  the  question  to  say  they  will  be  insolent, 
and  that  they  won't  work  after  emancipation.  Certainly  they 
are  orderly  enough  and  industrious  in  Massachusetts.  Besides 
slavery  is  an  immense  crime,  while  refusing  social  equality  is 
a  matter  of  taste,  and  is  only  denying  to  the  blacks  that  which 
does  not  exist,  and  never  did  exist  anywhere  with  regard  to 
the  whites.  But  here  in  Europe  nobody  knows  anything 
about  the  matter,  saving  only  that  slavery  exists.  They  have 
no  idea  that  America  is  a  confederation  of  States,  each  of 
which  States  is  competent  to  establish  and  abolish  slavery  at 
its  pleasure,  and  that  the  general  government  has  no  power  to 
do  one  or  the  other.  I  believe  everybody  in  Europe  thinks, 
so  far  as  he  thinks  at  all,  most  of  them  contenting  themselves 
with  bragging,  that  the  President  of  the  United  States  could 
abolish  slavery  to-morrow  by  an  edict,  just  as  the  Emperor  of 
the  French  abolished  the  Eepublic  by  half  a  dozen  lines  of 
proclamation,  or  if  that  can't  be,  nobody  goes  so  deep  as  to 
conceive'  a  doubt  that  the  Congress  could  abolish  it  as  easily 
as  it  could  pass  a  tariff  law. 

To  revert  to  Webster.      I  hope  you  will  send  me  Hillard's 
eulogy,  and  also  his  and  the  other  speeches  which  were  made 


1853]  LIFE  AT  DRESDEN.  149 

lormnlly.  I  always  take  great  interest  in  everything  Hillard 
writes  or  says,  for  I  have  great  respect  and  regard  for  him. 
As  for  thinking  of  America  without  Webster,  it  seems  like 
thinking  of  her  without  Niagara,  or  the  Mississippi  or  any 
other  of  the  magnificent  natural  features  which  had  belonged 
to  her  since  I  grew  up,  and  seemed  likely  to  endure  for  ever. 
You  see  now  why  I  don't  write  oftener.  It  is  absolutely  im- 
possible to  amuse  or  edify  under  my  circumstances,  and  there- 
fore I  have  no  self-reproach  to  make  for  being  silent  longer 
than  I  should  be  if  I  had  anything  to  say.  Here  I  have 
written  three  or  four  pages  of  stuff  which  would  have  been  bad 
enough  if  uttered  between  sleep  and  wake  at  the  fireside 
comer,  but  which  deliberately  put  upon  paper  "  is  enough,"  as 
Mr.  Macaulay  says  of  Bob  Southey's  printed  pleasantries,  "  to 
make  a  man  ashamed  of  his  species."  Therefore  I  will  now 
pause  for  a  reply. 

Very  affectionately  your  son, 
J.  L.  M. 

P.S. — Up  to  this  time  we  have  had  no  more  snow  nor  cold 
weather  than  we  often  have  at  home  in  October.  The  grass  is 
perfectly  green  in  the  fields,  which  stretch  out  before  my  study 
window  as  far  as  Saxon  Switzerland.  Please  to  say  to  Mr.  Cabot 
that  his  young  friend  and  kinsman,  Mr.  Higginson,  presented 
himself  not  long  ago  to  us.  He  is  a  very  honest,  ingenuous, 
intelligent  lad,  who  is  taking  a  vacation  on  account  of  his 
eyes.  He  comes  and  dines  whenever  he  chooses,  which  is 
generally  once  a  week,  and  he  dines  with  us  to-day,  Christmas. 
Please  tell  his  father  I  am  happy  to  have  made  his  son's 
acquaintance. 


To  his  Mother. 

Dresden, 
Felruary  3rt£,  1853. 

Mt  dearest  Mother. — We  jog  on  as  usual,  the  days  and 
nights  succeeding  and  certifying  each  other  with  the  regu- 
larity of  your  kitchen  clock.  The  monotony  of  our  life  was 
interrupted  a  little  while  ago  by  our  going  to  Court,  and 


150  MOTLEY'S   LETTERS.  [Chap.  V. 

perliaps  you  will  think  that  I  ought  to  send  you  a  minute 
description  of  the  ceremony.  But  to  tell  you  the  truth,  these 
things  are  to  me  so  insipid  that  I  am  unable  to  extract  juice 
enough  out  of  them  to  flavour  a  letter  with.  I  wish  I  could 
tell  you  anything  that  would  entertain  you  concerning  our 
presentation  on  New  Year's  Day,  and  the  Court  ball  which 
followed  the  succeeding  week.  But  I  do  lack  something  of 
the  gamesome  spirit  which  enables  one  to  be  amusing  on  such 
topics.  Besides  I  prefer  to  leave  the  details  to  Mary,  who 
will  wake  from  her  slumbers  one  of  these  days  and   send, 

either  to  you  or  to  S or  A L ,  an  account  of  her 

achievements.  The  palace  here  is  a  rambling  old  barrack 
externally,  but  within,  the  rooms  are  spacious  and  sufficiently 
elegant.  The  principal  apartments  have  been  recently  painted 
in  fresco  by  an  artist  called  Bendemann,  who  is  thought  by 
the  Germans  to  be  inferior  only  to  Raphael  and  Eubens.  The 
frescoes  have  certainly  considerable  merit  as  far  as  drawing  and 
grouping  are  concerned,  but  in  grace  and  colour  they  are  not 
above  mediocrity. 

The  King  and  Queen  receive  masculine  friends  on  New 
Year's  morning.  His  Majesty  is  a  mild  old  gentleman, 
wadded  and  bolstered  into  very  harmonious  proportions.  He 
has  a  single  tooth  worn  carelessly  on  one  side,  which  some- 
what interferes  with  his  eloquence.  I  do  not  think  that  I 
took  notes  enough  of  his  conversation  to  be  able  to  give 
you  a  report.  He  was  glad  to  hear  in  answer  to  a  question 
that  I  proposed  passing  the  winter  here.  And  as  I  felt  how 
much  unalloyed  satisfaction  the  circumstance  must  really 
cause  to  his  bosom,  I  internally  resolved  not  to  change  my 
plan.  The  Queen  is  very  tall  and  very  queenly.  Nothing 
can  be  more  elegant  or  more  winning  than  her  manner.  She 
is,  I  believe,  very  benignant  in  character,  and  certainly  her 
address  is  perfectly  in  accordance  therewith.  I  am  not  at 
liberty  to  mention  her  conversation  with  myself.  Indeed  I 
did  not  understand  a  single  word  she  said,  and  was  entirely 
ignorant  in  what  language  she  was  speaking,  but  I  have  since 
ascertained  that  it  was  probably  French.  This  is  a  general 
observation.     She  Speaks  in  so  low  a  tone  and  with  such  a 


1853]  THE   BAXON   COURT.  151 

kind  of  gentle  roucoulement  that  it  is  almost  impossible  to  catch 
her  words  with  any  distinctness  except  after  considerable 
practice.  The  King  and  Queen  have  no  children.  The  heir 
to  the  throne  is  Prince  John,  whom  I  have  already  described 
to  you.  Ho  made  many  inquiries  of  me  again  about 
Mr.  Ticknor,  for  whom  he  certainly  entertains  a  sincere 
friendship.  He  is  more  fortunate  as  a  jiere  de  famille  than 
his  brother,  his  progeny  sing,  "  We  are  seven."  Two  of  the 
princesses  (Anna  and  Sidonie)  are  very  pretty.  The  ball  was 
not  particularly  brilliant.  The  costumes  of  the  gentlemen 
Avere  slightly  shabby.  Those  of  the  ladies  were  not  remark- 
iible.  The  royal  party  were  of  course  well  dressed.  The 
Queen  wore  a  magnificent  tiara  of  diamonds.  The  Princess 
Augusta  was  in  a  green  blaze,  being  covered  with  the  most 
gorgeous  emeralds  I  ever  saw."  Some  few  of  the  high  Court 
ladies  were  well  jewelled  also,  but  the  rank  and  file  were 
rather  ill-dressed  so  far  as  I  could  judge. 

Turning  from  the  fair  women  to  the  brave  men,  it  was 
funny  to  observe  the  profusion  of  orders  and  decorations  with 
which  every  other  person  was  covered.  There  were  the  states- 
men of  world-wide  reputation,  the  sages  and  law-givers  on 
whose  accents  the  world  hangs  with  enthusiasm,  the  generals 
of  a  hundred  stricken  fields  in  which  the  fate  of  empires  has 
been  decided,  whose  names  I  cannot  yet  give  you,  because  I 
liave  not  ascertained  them,  but  they  must  all  be  as  eminent 
as  Metternich  or  Talleyrand,  Wellington  or  Bliicher,  Marshal 
Key  or  King  Murat,  to  judge  from  the  trophies  on  their 
bosoms.  Each  manly  chest,  like  the  spacious  firmament  on 
high,  was  covered  with  stars  innumerable.  I  am  quite 
.satisfied  that  they  are  all  destined  for  immortality.  As  I 
before  observed,  there  is  something  like  constraint  in  the 
general  atmosphere  of  one  of  the  balls.  *  The  etiquette  is 
perhaps  more  formal  since  the  reaction  after  '48.  I  suppose 
it  is  thought  necessary  to  eflfect  thorough  repairs  in  the 
<livinity  which  hedges  kings,  the  said  hedge  having  had  so 
many  gaps  made  in  it  by  irreverent  poachers  in  latter  days. 
So  the  good  people  all  fall  back,  opening  to  the  right  and  left, 
standing  (not  at  ease)  on  both  sides  of  the  ball-room,  when 


152  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  V. 

it  is  understood  that  their  Majesties  and  the  august  family 
are  approaching.  After  a  little  preliminary  flourish  and 
flutter,  you  hear  two  or  three  mysterious  raps  (something  like^ 
your  spiritual  knockings,  I  suppose),  and  then  enters  the 
royal  cortege,  headed  by  an  old  chamberlain  with  a  gold  stick 
in  his  hand,  the  personage  who,  from  his  high  rank  or  great 
services  or  his  imposing  bald  head,  is  supposed  to  be  the 
most  *'  fit  and  desartless  man  "  for  Court  Constable.  After  this 
Dogberry  in  high  life  come  a  few  Court  cards,  whose  costumes 
look  a  deal  like  those  of  Tommy  Crehore's  after  the  pack  has 
seen  a  little  service.  Then  come  their  Majesties  with  the 
rest  of  the  family,  bowing  to  the  right  and  left  with  great 
benignity,  and  making  happy  "the  upturned  wondering 
looks  "  of  the  mortals  who  fell  back  to  gaze  on  them.  They 
pass,  and  the  solemn  hush  is  succeeded  by  a  chatter  of  relief.. 
The  ducks,  who  have  been  rolling  their  eyes  as  the  thunder- 
storm was  passing  (as  is  their  well-known  nature),  now  begin 
to  quack  again  and  to  waddle  about  and  to  expatiate  gene- 
rally, till  another  rap  and  another  gathering  cloud  in  tho 
distance  makes  all  silent  once  more. 

This  is  thought  very  good  fun  in  Dresden  and  in  many 
other  places,  and  no  doubt  some  amusement  may  be  extracted 
from  such  scenes,  but  then  you  must  have  more  inclination 
and  more  time  to  make  acquaintances  than  I  have.  I  work 
like  a  mule  all  day  long,  and  I  am  therefore  not  equal  to  the 
fatigue  of  requesting  introductions  and  making  myself  agree- 
able to  the  big-wigs.  You  will  naturally  ask  why,  having 
these  dispositions  or  indispositions,  we  take  the  trouble  to  gO' 
out  at  all.  My  reasons  are  twain — one  furnished  by  Lord 
Bacon,  the  other  by  some  anonymous  philosopher  of  almost 
equal  wisdom.  The  sage  of  Verulam  enumerates  among  the 
things  for  a  traveller  to  see  and  study,  "  the  courts  of  kings- 
and  princes."  As  Mary  has  never  been  in  Europe  before,, 
and  as  we  could  go  through  the  kindness  of  Mr.  Forbes  with 
very  little  trouble,  I  thought  it  best  that  she  should  takfr 
the  opportunity. 

Your  most  afiectionate  son, 

J.  L.  M. 


1853.]  3IARRIAGE  OF  PRINCESS  VASA.  153 

Tell  Uncle  Edward  that  my  next  letter  will  be  to  him.  I 
am  ashamed  that  I  have  not  written  to  him  for  so  long,  because 
I  know  it  gives  him  pleasure,  and  I  should  like  to  give  him 
all  the  amusement  in  my  power.  I  have  been  so  dull  myself, 
and  at  the  same  time  working  so  hard,  that  I  have  let  a  long 
time  slip  by  without  writing  anything  but  my  book,  which  will 
be  finished  this  week,  that  is  to  say  Part  I.,  in  three  or  four 
volumes,  and  all  perhaps  that  will  ever  be  written,  unless  its 
publication  gives  me  encouragement  to  continue.  Part  I.  is 
a  complete  whole  in  itself,  therefore  posterity  will  not  be 
injured  by  a  total  stoppage. 

Affectionately  your  son, 

J.  L.  M. 


To  his  Mother. 

Dresden, 
June  ZOth,  1853. 

My  dearest  Mother, — We  have,  contrary  to  my  expecta- 
tions, been  obliged  once  more  to  turn  out  at  Court.  We  have 
been  marrying  the  Princess  Vasa  to  the  eldest  son  of  Prince 
John,  and  heir  eventually  to  the  Saxon  crown,  or  throne  rather, 
for  there  is  no  crown.  This  young  lady  was,  as  you  may  have 
read  in  the  papers,  the  object  of  Louis  Napoleon's  aspirations. 
The  Princess  Vasa  is  of  a  family  which  was  sovereign  for  three 
centuries,  having  risen  from  obscurity  in  the  early  part  of  the 
16th  century,  in  the  person  of  Gustavus  Vasa,  a  man  of  great 
talents  and  very  humble  birth.  This  is  but  a  brief  pedigree 
to  brag  of,  particularly  as  the  be-all  of  the  end-all  is  already 
arrived  at,  and  it  must  be  confessed  that  in  any  historical  or 
philosophical  sense  the  house  of  Bonaparte  is  more  illustrious 
per  se,  according  to  the  common  notions  of  illustrations,  than 
that  of  Vasa. 

The  Swedish  family  is  however  connected  by  numerous 
alliances  with  all  the  potentates  of  Europe,  and  is  a  recognised 
party  to  the  family  compact  which  unites  all  the  Lord's 
anointed  into  a  band  of  brethren  and   sisters.     The  present 


154  MOTLEY'S  LETTEES.  [Chap.  V. 

marriage  was  one  of  affection,  a  rare  thing  among  people  in 
their  line  of  life.  Prince  Albert,  a  fine,  manly  young  man, 
fell  in  love  with  the  young  lady,  a  pretty,  pleasing,  gentle 
young  damsel  of  eighteen.  The  reception  in  the  town  was 
early  in  the  forenoon  of  the  18th  of  this  month  by  a  cavalcade 
of  burghers,  peasants,  and  military.  The  streets  were  very 
prettily  decorated,  the  houses  being  hung  with  garlands,  and 
triumphal  arches  as  smart  as  paint  and  gilding  could  make 
them,  and  the  citizens  all  putting  on  their  best  attire  and 
culling  forth  a  holiday  in  the  most  approved  fashion. 

The  nuptials  were  solemnised  in  the  Catholic  church.  All 
persons  who  had  been  presented  at  Court  were  invited  to  the 
wedding.  It  was  also  intimated  that  the  ladies  were  to  go  in 
trains,  and  be  presented  to  the  bride  afterwards  at  a  drawing- 
room  to  be  held  at. the  palace,  between  which  and  the  church 
adjoining  there  is  a  gallery  of  communication.  Mary  had 
however  already  turned  her  train  into  a  gown,  and  was  not 
inclined  to  buy  another,  and  you  may  suppose  that  I  was  most 
happy  to  escape  the  drawing-room.  It  was  well  known  that 
many  people  would  go  to  the  marriage  and  to  the  ball  a  few 
days  afterwards  without  going  to  the  presentation.  We  sent 
an  excuse  therefore,  like  many  others,  and  received  tickets  for 
the  body  of  the  church  instead  of  the  gallery,  where  the 
ladies  in  full  dress  were  accommodated.  In  the  nave  below,  the 
ladies,  all  much  dressed,  of  course,  but  in  morning  costume, 
were  arranged  on  one  side,  and  the  gentlemen,  all  in  uniform, 
military,  civil,  or  diplomatic,  on  the  other.  The  day  was  fine, 
the  hour  about  noon.  The  church  is  spacious  but  modern, 
and  of  no  great  beauty  of  architecture  or  richness  in  decora- 
tion. The  grand  altar  was  a  blaze  of  light.  Numerous 
candles,  glittering  sacramental  furniture,  and  the  splendid 
robes  of  the  priests  made  a  very  effective  show,  at  the  end  of  a 
long  vista,  formed  by  a  vast  tulip  bed  of  gaily  dressed  ladies 
thickly  planted  in  rows  upon  one  side,  and  by  a  noble  army  of 
fine  gentlemen,  gorgeous  as  hollyhocks,  on  the  other. 

At  the  appointSvd  moment,  the  bishop,  with  his  mitre  on  his 
head,  his  crozier  iii,  his  hand,  an  effulgent  gown  of  brocade 
embroidered  with  gold  on  his  back,  and  a  lackadaisical  simper, 


1833.]  MARRIAGE  OF  PRINCE  ALBERT  AND  PRINCESS  VASA.  155 

intended  to  bo  a  general  benediction  for  the  world  at  large, 
heretics  excepted,  upon  his  pumpkin  tace,  set  forth  from  the 
high  altar,  followed  by  a  string  of  highly-bedizened  eccle- 
siiustics.  The  procession  passed  close  to  me,  as  I  was  fortunate 
enough  to  have  a  place  at  the  end  of  one  of  the  benches  or 
pews  directly  upon  the  principal  nave.  (Mary  on  her  side 
of  the  church  was  equally  fortunate.)  The  clerical  procession 
went  forth  to  the  main  door  in  order  to  meet  the  bridal  party, 
which  was  now  advancing  through  the  gallery  above,  and  which, 
though  invisible  to  us,  was  sufficiently  manifest  in  its  effect 
upon  the  serried  ranks  of  the  ladies  in  the  galleries.  A  general 
rustle  and  flutter  of  the  whole  throng,  a  simultaneous  bending 
of  feathered  heads  like  the  swaying  of  a  field  of  ripe  com  when 
the  summer  breeze  passes  over  it  (my  similes  seem  to  be  very 
agricultural  this  morning),  made  it  obvious  that  the  glorious 
presence  was  revealing  itself  to  them,  although  it  was  yet 
thidden  to  the  upturned  eyes  of  mortals  who  were  gazing  from 
'below.  Directly  afterwards  the  two  streams  mingled  at  the, 
church  door.  The  bishop  received  the  royal  party  and  coun- 
termarched them  all  to  the  altar.  So  the  whole  procession 
advanced  through  the  aisle  for  our  gratification.  First  came 
the  said  bishop,  his  head  bobbing  from  side  to  side  with  an 
expression  of  "  goneness."  Then  came  the  mob  of  ecclesiastics. 
They  were  followed  by  a  long  train  of  menials  in  brand-new 
clothes.  The  royal  livery  being  a  most  intense  yellow,  this 
swarm  of  lackeys  looked  like  a  flock  of  gigantic  canary  birds. 
After  these  came  a  troop  of  underlings  in  sky-blue  habili- 
ments, a  set  of  officials  occupying  a  middle  position  between 
servants  and  gentlemen,  household  divinities  of  one  kind  or 
another,  ushers,  inspectors,  or  what  not.  Then  the  grand 
dignitaries  of  the  kingdom,  in  fullest  fig,  made  their  appear- 
ance, chief  marshals,  lord  chamberlains,  'ministers  of  state, 
gold  sticks  and  silver  sticks,  equerries  and  cup  bearers,  all 
"  fine  "  as  Adam,  llalph,  and  Gregory. 

Thus  heralded  came  the  King  and  Queen,  followed  by  the 
young  and  pretty  bride,  wearing  a  wreath  of  diamonds  and 
orange  flowers  on  her  head,  and  walking  lietween  her  mother 
and  her   future  father-in-law.  Prince  John.      Her  train  was 


156  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chav.  V. 

held  up  by  her  future  sister-in-law,  young  Princess  Sidonie, 
who  is  very  good  and  very  handsome.  Her  train  again  was 
held  up  by  her  lady  of  honour  who  came  behind  her.  Various 
princesses  and  grand  duchesses  followed  in  like  manner,  all 
staggering  under  loads  of  diamonds  and  all  strung  together 
by  their  long  satin  tails.  Then  came  the  bridegroom  with 
his  friends  and  relations  of  the  masculine  gender,  looking 
as  little  sheepish  as  could  have  been  expected  under  such 
trying  circumstances.  In  due  time  the  party  were  arranged 
round  the  altar,  the  two  sufferers  got  themselves  comfort- 
ably on  their  knees,  and  the  ceremony  began.  The  good 
bishop,  thinking  it  necessary  in  compliment  to  his  company 
to  be  as  "tedious  as  a  king,"  held  forth  at  a  most  un- 
merciful length.  But  as  all  things  come  to  an  end,  so  did 
his  exhortation,  and  at  last  the  booming  of  cannon  and  the 
rattle  of  musketry  outside,  with  a  magnificent  Te  Deum 
thundered  forth  by  the  organ  within,  announced  to  the  world 
that  the  marriage  was  complete.  Soon  afterwards,  the  same 
procession  again  moved  down  the  aisle,  and  up  through  the 
galleries  into  the  palace.  Those  who  had  chosen  to  go  to 
the  drawing-room  went  upstairs  after  them.  The  rest  of  us 
went  home  to  dinner. 

On  the  following  evening  there  was  a  very  general  and 
effective  illumination  of  the  town.  On  the  next  evening- 
there  was  an  opera  at  the  theatre,  to  which  no  tickets  were 
sold,  all  being  distributed  by  the  Court.  To  this  "  theatre 
pare,"  as  it  is  called,  because  everybody  must  go  in  full 
Court  dress,  we  received  tickets,  but  could  not  go!  as  it  was 
on  Sunday.  On  the  next  was  the  Court  ball,  at  which  we 
made  our  appearance,  and  which  was  a  particularly  brilliant 
one  by  reason  ofs  the  numerous  foreign  princes  and  dignitaries 
who  were  present.\  Among  these  the  observed  of  all  observers 
was  the  Duke  of  G-enoa,  brother  of  the  King  of  Sardinia.  He 
is  very  handsome  and  picturesque  in  appearance,  looking  like 
a  knight  of  old,  such  as  Titian  might  have  painted,  having 
the  chevaleresque  air  which  befits  a  man  who  has  fought  well 
in  the  field  for  Italian,  nationality  against  Austrian  tyranny, 
as  becomes  a  son  of  Charles  Albert,  and  a  scion  of  a  house 


1853.]  COURT  FESTIVITIES.  157 

which,  almost  nlone  in  Europe,  recognises  the  possession  of 
political  liberty  by  its  subjects. 

I  had  hoped  that  Mary  would  have  mustered  up  energy  to 
send  you  a  description  of  these  fine  doings.  It  would  have 
been  a  topic  which  she  would  have  described  with  much  more 
vivacity  and  emotion.  I  am  not  good  at  these  gauds.  In 
truth,  they  weary  me  beyond  measure,  but  I  think  Mary 
would  have  made  a  grand  mistake  not  to  have  improved  the 
opportunity  of  seeing  what  she  could  for  once  in  a  way  of  the 
humours  of  a  Court.  This  ceremony  of  a  royal  marriage  too 
(and  a  Catholic  one)  does  not  often  turn  up  for  outsiders,  and 
she  was  very  much  pleased  and  interested.  As  for  me,  I  am 
Mackintoshed  into  impermeability  and  such  things  all  descend 
upon  me,  and  run  off  leaving  me  as  dry  as  ever. 

Ever  your  affectionate  son, 

J.  L.  M. 


158  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Ciur.  VI. 


CHAPTEE  yi. 

PUBLICATION  OF  THE  'EISE  OF  THE  DUTCH  EEPUBLIC 

The  Hague — Kesidence  at  Brussels — Mr.  Motley's  daughters — Letter  to  O.  W. 
Holmes — Daily  life  at  Brussels — Companions  of  past  generations — The 
River  Senne — The  Archives — Literary  silkworms — Rubens  and  his  art — 
The  Shakespeare  of  painting— Arrival  in  London — Mr.  Forsyth — Prelimi- 
naries of  publication  —John  Murray — English  and  American  politics  com- 
pared— Preparations  for  publication — Mr.  Prescott — Frankfort — Basel — Visit 
to  Herr  von  Bismarck — His  character  and  career — His  family  life — Return  to 
England — An  English  hotel — Florence—  Theodore  S.  Fay — Paris  under 
Louis  Napoleon — Americans  in  Florence — Miss  Alexander — Thomas  Ball — 
Mr.  Motley's  constitutional  melancholy  —  Description  of  Florence  —  Her 
brilliant  past — Her  achievements  and  her  feuds — Her  present  condition — 
Publication  of  the  '  History  of  the  Dutch  Republic ' — Mr.  Prescott's  praise  of 
it — Criticisms  in  the  English  and  in  the  American  press — Sorrento — Letters 
about  the  History  from  T.  S.  Fay— O.  W.  Holmes^C.  C.  Felton— Letter  to 
O.  W.  Holmes  on  his  poem  —  Letters  about  tlie  History  from  G.  Bancroft 
and  Washington  Irving. 

To  Ms  Mother. 

Brussels, 
November  20th,  1853. 

My  dearest  Mother, — The  six  weeks  we  passed  at  the 
Hague  were  pleasant  for  Mary  and  the  children,  and  useful 
for  me.  The  children  were  ducked  in  the  North  Sea,  and 
I  was  buried  in  the  deep  bosom  of  the  Dutch  Archives, 
much  to  the  invigoration  of  all.  The  Hague  is  a  mild, 
stagnant,  elegant,  drowsy,  tranquil,  clean,  umbrageous  little 
capital  smothered  in  foliage,  buried  in  an  ancient  forest,  with 
the  downs  thrown  up  by  the  North  Sea  surging  all  round  it, 
and  the  ocean  rolling  beyond.  We  made  a  good  many 
pleasant  acquaintances  at  the  Tables  d'hote,  where  Susie  was 
the  observed  of  all  observers.  The  hotel  where  we  stayed  had 
its  dinner  at  5  T.m.  and  as  there  were  not  many  foreigners 
staying  there,  the  company  were  principally  of  the  natives 
and  of  the  very  best  class.     Many  members  of  the  Chamber 


1853.]  RESIDENCE  AT  BRUSSELS.  159 

of  Deputies  and  of  the  Senate,  Ex-Ambassadors,  and  Cabinet 
Ministers  were  constantly  there  and  all  were  exceedingly 
cordial,  afifable  and  agreeable.  A  very  warm  attachment 
sprang  up  between  Susie  and  an  old  gentleman  named  Donker 
Ourtius,  the  Minister  of  Justice,  who  was  exceedingly  diverted 
\vith  her  talk  and  her  comicalities  at  table. 

Our  Charge  d'affaires  there,  Mr.  Folsom,  and  his  wife,  were 
very  polite  to  us.  Mary  drove  out  with  them  almost  daily, 
and  the  children  were  all  very  intimate  with  each  other,  and 
got  on  very  well  together.  Since  we  have  been  here  they 
passed  through  the  town,  where  they  dined  with  us  and  spent 
the  evening.  They  have  now  gone  to  Italy  to  spend  the 
winter.  Our  friends,  the  Forbes's,  of  whom  you  have  heard  us 
speak  so  often  and  with  whom  we  have  been  intimate  so  long 
in  Dresden,  came  here  as  much  as  anything  to  visit  us,  and 
have  just  terminated  their  stay  here,  having  left  for  England 
by  the  way  of  Antwerp  two  or  three  days  ago.  We  are  now 
entirely  alone,  and  we  do  not  wish  to  make  any  acquaintances. 
Of  course  I  came  here  to  study  in  the  Library  and  Archives. 
It  is,  however,  as  good  a  place  as  we  could  find  for  the 
children  to  learn  French.  Paris  would  be  out  of  the  question 
from  its  dearness,  but  we  have  found  a  most  excellent  little 
day  school,  kept  by  a  lady  from  Paris. 

You  asked  me  to  tell  you  of  the  children  when  I  wrote.  To 
begin  with  Lily.  She  is  improving  very  much  in  character 
and  is  much  more  willing  to  be  gentle  than  she  used  to  be. 
Mary  is  constitutionally  irritable,  but  she  is  one  of  the  most 
single-hearted  and  disinterested  children  that  ever  lived.  She 
is  always  thinking  of  something  to  do  for  other  people.  She 
is  singularly  industrious,  I  never  saw  her  a  moment  idle.  She 
is,  like  her  mother,  very  handy  with  her  fingers,  and  is  already 
very  distinguished  in  rugs,  and  crotchets,  or  \yhatever  you  call 
them,  and  furnishes  all  her  friends  in  parlour  or  kitchen  with 
caps  and  pinafores.  Moreover  she  has  long  since  constituted 
herself  almoner-general  of  the  establishment,  and  for  years 
has  always  confiscated  every  piece  of  copper  money  that  her 
mother  or  I  may  be  in  possession  of  for  the  benefit  of  the  poor 
of  the  parish.     And   as   the   poor  we  have  always  with  us, 


160  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  VI. 

you  may  suppose  that  slie  has  always  recipients  for  her 
bounty.  If  her  means  were  as  large  as  her  heart  she  would 
feed  and  clothe  the  whole  continent.  She  often  thinks  and 
talks  of  home,  and  has  a  most  tender  remembrance  of  her  dear 
grandpapa.  I  am  sorry  to  say  that  she  is  about  as  feeble  as 
ever.  She  is  complaining,  and  has  been  for  some  days,  of  a 
pain  in  her  side.  Sometimes  she  has  a  cough.  At  the  same 
time  I  don't  believe  but  that  she  may  turn  out  right 
after  all.  I  don't  want  to  go  to  a  doctor  and  have  him  tap 
her  all  over  and  hint  suspicions  of  tubercles,  for  then  we 
should  never  dare  to  look  her  in  the  face  again,  for  fear  of 
reading  confirmation  of  his  doubts.  Moreover  I  really  believe 
that  she  will  yet  conquer  a  constitution  for  herself. 

As  for  Susie,  she  is  the  light  of  our  eyes  and  the  sunshine 
of  our  lives;  she  is  perfectly  good,  amiable  and  gentle. 
Coming  so  recently  from  the  hand  of  God  she  has  lost  nothing 
yet  of  her  innocence  and  happiness,  and  has  all  the  freshness 
of  daybreak  still  about  her.  I  never  saw  such  insolent 
happiness,  as  if  she  had  been  put  into  this  prison  house  for  no 
other  purpose  but  to  sing  and  chatter  all  day  long.  She  has 
brought  a  good  phial  full  from  the  fountain  of  perpetual 
youth,  and  she  means  it  to  bubble  and  sparkle  as  long  as 
possible. 

Poor  creature !  she  will  find  out  soon  enough  that  the  world 
was  not  made  for  singing  and  laughing,  but  in  the  meantime  she 
is  happy.  She  speaks  German  quite  as  fluently  and  correctly  as 
she  does  English.  Of  course  she  makes  mistakes,  as  she  does, 
and  all  children  do,  in  whatever  language  they  speak,  but  it  is 
quite  the  same  as  her  mother  tongue  to  her,  and  nothing  can 
exceed  the  swiftness  of  her  jabber  in  either  language.  She 
observed  this  morning  at  breakfast,  "  that  very  few  people  had 
seen  so  muchi  of  the  world  as  she  had,"  and  then  began  to 
enumerate  the  places  she  had  visited,  beginning  with  Dedham, 
and  ending  with,  Briissel,  as  she  always  calls  Brussels. 

Your  affectionate  son, 

J.  L.  M. 


J 853]  LIFE  AT  BRUSSELS.  161 

To  Dr.  0.  W.  Holmes. 

Brussels, 
November  20th,  1853. 

I^Iy  dear  Holmes, — jMost  certainly  both  Mary  and  myself 
lit  deeply  your  kindness  in  writing  to  us,  for  although  your 
letter  was  addressed  to  me  personally,  she  assumes  a  joint  and 
several  character  with  regard  to  it  in  all  respects  except  in 
the  responsibility  of  responding,  and  if  I  could  have  merely 
taken  up  my  pen  (style  of  the  earlier  part  of  this  century  in 
which  you  and  I  began  to  flourish)  and  acknowledged  the 
kindness,  and  so  rendered  you  my  debtor  instantly  for  another 
letter,  you  may  be  very  sure  that  you  would  at  this  moment  be 
writing  to  me  your  sixth  or  seventh.  Honestly  and  most 
warmly  I  asseverate  that  my  delay  in  answering  was  only 
because  I  felt  unable  to  write  anything  that  would  be  worth 
your  reading.  I  was  too  conscientious  to  think  that  one  sheet  ^ 
of  paper  with  a  post-mark  was  equal  to  another  sheet  of  paper 
with  a  post-mark,  and  I  hoped  not  to  be  forced,  as  I  am  at 
hist,  to  tender  a  pojind  of  lead  in  payment  for  a  pound  of  gold. 
Do,  however,  be  merciful,  take  your  pen  and  write  four  score 
as  if  I  had  really  discharged  the  debt.  If  you  knew  how 
I  )ften  we  have  read  your  letter,  and  how  much  pleasure  it  has 
iriven  us,  and  how  often  Mary  has  been  goading  me  into 
answering  in  the  mere  sordid  expectation  of  getting  a  second, 
till  at  last  even  the  incrustations  of  time  and  self-conscious 
stupidity  have  penetrated,  you  would  I  am  sure  be  willing 
once  more  to  write  to  us.  You  may  be  sure  even  if  I  have 
myself  "no  more  wit  than  a  Christian  or  an  ordinary  man," 
that  I  am  quite  able  to  appreciate  and  to  treasure  yours. 

I  do  not  really  know  what  to  say  to  you.  I  am  in  a  town 
which  for  aught  I  know  may  be  very  gay.  I  do  not  know  a 
living  soul  in  it.  We  have  not  a  single  acquaintance  in  the 
place,  and  wo  glory  in  the  fact.  There  is  something  rather 
sublime  in  thus  floating  on  a  single  spar  in  the  wide  sea  of  a 
populous,  busy,  fuming,  fussy,  little  world  like  this.  At  any 
rate  it  is  consonant  to  both  our  tastes.  You  may  suppose,  how- 
ever, that  I  find  it  rather  diflicult  to  amuse  my  friends  out  of  the 

VOL.  I.  M 


162  MOTLEY'S  LETTEKS.  [Chap.  YI. 

incidents  of  so  isolated  an  existence.  Our  life  is  as  stagnant 
as  a  Dutch  canal ;  not  that  I  complain  of  it,  on  the  contrary 
the  canal  may  be  richly  freighted  with  merchandise,  and  be  a 
short  cut  to  the  ocean  of  abundant  and  perpetual  knowledge, 
but  at  the  same  time  few  points  rise  above  the  level  of  so 
regular  a  life,  to  be  worthy  of  your  notice.  You  must  there- 
fore allow  me  to  meander  along  through  the  meadows  of 
common-place.  Do  not  expect  anything  in  the  impetuous 
and  boiling  style. 

I  do  not  know  whether  you  ever  were  in  Brussels.  It  is  a 
striking,  picturesque  town,  built  up  a  steep  promontory,  the 
old  part  at  the  bottom,  very  dingy  and  mouldy,  the  new  part 
at  the  top,  very  showy  and  elegant.  Nothing  can  be  more 
exquisite  in  its  way  than  the  Grande  Place  in  the  very  heart  of 
the  city,  surrounded  with  those  toppling,  zig-zag,  ten-storied 
buildings,  bedizened  all  over  with  ornaments  and  emblems  so 
peculiar  to  the  Netherlands,  with  the  brocaded  Hotel  de  Ville 
on  one  side,  with  its  impossible  spire,  rising  some  three  hundred 
and  seventy  feet  into  the  air,  and  embroidered  on  the  top  with 
•the  delicacy  of  needlework,  sugarwork,  spiderwork,  or  what  you 
will.  I  haunt  this  place  because  it  is  my  scene,  my  theatre. 
Here  were  enacted  so  many  deep  tragedies,  so  many  stately 
dramas,  and  even  so  maily  farces,  which  have  been  so  familiar 
to  me  so  long,  that  I  have  got  to  imagine  myself  invested  with 
a  kind  of  property  in  the  place,  and  look  at  it  as  if  it  were 
merely  the  theatre  with  the  coulisses,  machinery,  drapery,  etc., 
for  representing  scenes  which  have  long  since  vanished,  and 
which  no  more  enter  the  minds  of  men  and  women  who  are 
actually  moving  across  its  pavements  than  if  they  had  occurred 
in  the  moon.  When  I  say  that  I  know  no  soul  in  Brussels  I 
am  perhaps  wrong.  With  the  present  generation  I  am  not 
familiar.  En  revanche  the  dead  men  of  the  place  are  my  inti- 
mate friends.  I  am  at  home  in  any  cemetery.  With  the  fel- 
lows of  the  six\teenth  century  I  am  on  the  most  familiar  terms. 
Any  ghost  thatyever  flits  by  night  across  the  moonlight  square 
is  at  once  hailed  by  me  as  a  man  and  a  brother.  I  call  him 
by  his  Christian  name  at  once.  • 

When  you  comV  out  of  this  place,  however,  which,  as  I  said. 


ls.>;i.J  WOKK  AMONG  MUSTY  ARCHIVES.  163 

is  exactly  in  the  heart  of  tlie  town,  the  antique  town  in  the 
motlern  setting,  you  may  go  either  up  or  down;  if  you  go 
down  you  will  find  yourself  in  the  very  nastiest  and  most 
dismal  complications  of  lanes  and  cuh  de  sac  possible,  a  dark 
entanglement  of  gin  shops,  beer  houses,  and  hovels,  through 
which  charming  valley  dribbles  the  river  Senne  (whence  I 
suppose  is  derived  senna) — the  most  nauseous  little  river  in 
the  world,  which  receives  all  the  outpourings  of  all  the 
drains  and  houses,  and  is  then  converted  into  beer  for  the 
inhabitants — all  the  way,  breweries  being  directly  upon  its 
edge.  If  you  go  up  the  hill  instead  of  down  you  come  to  an 
arrangement  of  squares,  palaces,  and  gardens,  as  trim  and 
fashionable  as  you  will  find  in  Europe.  Thus  you  see  that 
our  Cybele  sits  with  her  head  crowned  with  very  stately 
towers,  and  her  feet  in  a  tub  of  very  dirty  water. 

My  habits  here  for  the  present  are  very  regular.  I  came  here, 
having,  as  I  thought,  finished  my  work,  or  rather  the  first  part 
(something  like  three  or  four  volumes  octavo),  but  I  find  so 
much-  original  matter  here,  and  so  many  emendations  to  make> 
that  I  am  ready  to  despair.  However,  there  is  nothing  for  it 
but  to  penelopise,  pull  to  pieces  and  stitch  away  again.  What- 
ever may  be  the  result  of  my  labours,  nobody  can  say  that  I 
have  not  worked  hard  like  a  brute  beast ;  but  I  do  not  care  for 
the  result.  The  labour  is  in  itself  its  own  reward  and  all  I 
want.  I  go  day  after  day  to  the  Archives  here  (as  I  went  all 
summer  at  the  Hague),  studying  the  old  letters  and  docu- 
ments of  the  sixteenth  century.  Here  I  remain  among  my 
fellow  w  orms,  feeding  on  those  musty  mulberry  leaves  of  which 
\\  o  are  afterwards  to  spin  our  silk.  How  can  you  expect  any- 
thing interesting  from  such  a  cocoon?  It  is,  however,  not 
without  its  amusement  in  a  mouldy  sort  of  way,  this  reading 
of  dead  letters.  It  is  something  to  read  the  real  hand  fide 
signs  manual  of  such  fellows  as  William  of  Orange,  Count 
Egmont,  Alexander  Farnese,  Philip  the  Second,  Cardinal 
GranveUe,  and  the  rest  of  them.  It  gives  a  "  realising  sense," 
as  the  Americans  have  it.  However,  you  see  how  insensibly  I 
fall  into  talking  about  myself,  and  yet  no  topic  is  more  dis- 
tasteful to  nie.     I  hate  myself,  and  am  bored  by  myself,  and  I 

H  2 


164  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  YI. 

rarely  commit  the  sin  of  egotism.  Yet  I  feel  as  if  it  were  in 
writing  to  so  old  and  kind  a  friend  as  you,  whose  good  opinion 
I  so  highly  value,  and  to  whom  I  feel  grateful  for  thinking 
that  I  am  really  industrious  and  capable  of  being  useful.  I 
feel,  I  say,  bound  to  say  something  of  my  occupations,  and 
feel  that  it  would  be  affectation  to  be  altogether  silent  on  the 
subject.  At  the  same  time  I  am,  in  German  slang,  rather 
objective  than  subjective,  and  would  rather  entertain  my 
friends  with  anything  than  with  myself. 

There  are  not  many  public  resources  of  amusement  in 
this  place  if  we  wanted  them,  which  we  do  not.  I  miss  the 
Dresden  Gallery  very  much,  and  it  makes  me  sad  to  think 
that  I  shall  never  look  at  the  face  of  the  *  Sistine  Madonna ' 
again,  that  picture  beyond  all  pictures  in  the  world,  in  which 
the  artist  certainly  did  get  to  heaven  and  painted  a  face 
which  man  never  saw  on  earth,  so  pathetic,  so  gentle,  so 
passionless,  so  prophetic,  "  half  of  earth,  and  half  of  heaven  " 
— you  see  I  cannot  break  myself  of  quoting  you  to  your 
face.  There  are  a  few  good  Eubens  here,  but  the  great  wealth 
of  that  master  is  in  Antwerp.  The  great  picture  of  the 
*  Descent  from  the  Cross '  is  free  again,  after  having  been  two 
years  in  the  repairing  room.  It  has  come  out  again  in  very 
good  condition.  What  a  picture  !  It  seems  to  me  as  if  I  had 
really  stood  at  the  Cross,  and  seen  Mary  weeping  on  John's 
shoulder,  and  Magdalen  receiving  the  dead  body  of  the 
Saviour  in  her  arms.  Never  was  the  grand  tragedy  repre- 
sented in  so  profound  and  dramatic  a  manner.  For  it  is  not 
only  his  colour,  in  which  this  man  so  easily  surpasses  the 
world,  but  in  his  life-like  flesh  and  blood  action,  the  tragic 
power  of  his  composition.  And  is  it  not  appalling  to  think 
of  the  large  constitution  of  this  man,  when  you  reflect  on  the 
acres  of  canvas  which  he  has  covered  ?  How  inspiriting 
to  see  with  what  muscular  masculine  vigour  this  splendid 
Fleming  rushed  in  and  plucked  up  drowning  Art  by  the  locks, 
when  it  was^  sinking  in  the  washy  sea  of  such  creatures  as 
Luca  Giordan^s  and  Pietro  Cortonas  and  the  like.  Well 
might  Guido  ^xclaim,  "The  fellow  mixes  blood  with  his 
colours ! "  \    • 


1853.]  THE  SHAKESPEARE  OF  PAINTING.  165 

He  is  ccrtrtiuly  the  Shakespeare  of  painting.  I  did  not  say 
tliat  ori<^inally:  I  wish  I  liad.  It  is  worthy  to  have  been 
said  by  you.  How  providentially  did  the  man  come  in 
lid  invoke  living,  breathing,  moving  men  and  women  out 
of  his  canvas !  sometimes  ho  is  ranting  and  exaggerated  as 
are  all  men  of  great  genius,  who  wrestle  with  Nature  so 
boldly.  No  doubt  his  heroines  are  more  expansively  endowed 
than  would  be  thought  genteel  in  our  country,  where  cryp- 
togams are  so  much  in  fashion;  nevertheless  with  all  his 
exaggerations  there  is  always  something  very  tremendous 
about  him,  and  very  often  much  that  is  sublime,  pathetic,  and 
moving.  I  defy  any  one  of  the  average  amount  of  imagination 
and  sentiment  to  stand  long  before  the  *  Descent  from  the 
( 'ross '  without  being  moved  more  nearly  to  tears  than  he  would 
care  to  acknowledge.  As  for  colour,  his  effects  are  as  sure  as 
those  of  the  sun  rising  in  a  tropical  landscape.  There  is  some- 
thing quite  genial  in  the  cheerful  sense  of  his  own  omnipotence 
which  always  inspired  him. 

There  are  a  few  fine  pictures  of  his  here,  and  I  go  in  some- 
times of  a  raw  foggy  morning  merely  to  warm  myself  in  the 
blaze  of  their  beauty. 

I  have  just  read  over  your  letter  again,  rather  well  thumbed 
by  this  time,  in  order  to  see  Avhether  there  was  anything  espe- 
<;ally  requiring  an  answer.  I  find  no  interrogations,  but  you 
speak  of  Thackeray  and  his  lectures.  Of  course  I  know 
nothing  of  them,  but  I  heard  here  that  he  was  very  much 
delighted  ivith  you — not  the  citizens  of  the  U.S.A.,  but  with 
O.W.H. 

Mary  sends  you  an  infinite  deal  of  the  kindest  remem- 
brances. I  wish  you  could  come  in  and  enliven  our  silent 
fireside  (silent  after  the  children  ha\  e  been  got  to  bed)  for 
one  evening.  My  children  are  all  very  well  and  none  the 
worse  for  their  European  experience. 

Most  affectionately  yours, 

J.  L.  M. 


ICG  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap;  VI. 


To  his  Wife. 

Long's  Hotel,  New  Bond  Street,  London, 
Monday  morning.  May  Sth,  1854. 

My  deaeest  Mary, — You  see  I  have  arrived  at  my  desti- 
nation safe  and  sound.  I  reached  the  hotel  last  night  about 
11  P.M.  The  journey  was  not  fatiguing  to  me.  The  trains 
were  not  crowded,  so  that  I  was  able  to  sit  in  a  corner  and 
read  quietly  all  day.  We  got  to  Calais  at  about  2.30,  I  think. 
It  blew  pretty  fresh,  and  there  was  a  nasty  chopping  sea,  so 
that  the  deck  was  very  wet.  Almost  every  passenger  was 
sick.  I  was  not,  but  should  have  been  much  better  if  I  had 
been.  My  head  was  so  twisted  about,  that  it  will  take 
another  four-and-twenty  hours  to  put  it  straight  again.  If 
I  had  been  turned  inside  out,  I  should  have  been  all  right 
to-day.  Instead  of  which,  I  am  sorry  to  tell  you  I  am 
suffering  from  one  of  my  worst  headaches  at  this  moment, 
so  that  I  feel  almost  unable  to  write  coherently.  I  knew  you 
would  wish  to  hear  of  my  safe  arrival,  and  as  my  first  and 
last  thought  is  you,  I  could  not  set  about  anything  to-day 
till  I  had  sent  you  a  line.  I  have  a  decentish  kind  of  room 
here,  and  I  think  I  shall  stop.  I  was  certainly  very  fortunate 
in  the  weather  yesterday.  The  day  was  perfect  for  travelling 
— no  rain  nor  dust,  nor  too  much  sun.  There  was  no  rain  in 
crossing,  so  that  I  was  able  to  go  on  deck  the  whole  time.  If 
I  had  gone  into  the  hospital  below,  I  don't  believe  I  should 
have  emerged  alive.  The  groans  which  occasionally  ascended 
seemed  as  from  a  Gehenna.  The  vessel  shipped  so  many  seas, 
however,  that  I  was  completely  drenched ;  but  as  I  never  catch 
cold,  you  know,  that  was  of  no  consequence.  You  will  be  sorry 
to  hear  that  my  great-coat,  which  you  think  shabby,  was 
almost  entirely  ^ruined  with  dust  and  salt-water  commingled, 
so  that  I  bashfully  requested  the  porter  of  this  hotel  this 
morning  to  accept  1%,  and  was  afraid  that  he  would  answer  that 
he  did  not  like  to  deprive  me  of  it.  However,  he  thanked  me 
and  took  it,  I  am  afraid  when  he  looks  at  it  he  will  return 
it.     My  dear,  dear  Mary,  I  can't  tell  you  how  forlorn  I  am  at 


1854.]  PRELIMIXAIUES  OF  rUBLICATION.  167 

jing  separated  from  you.     It  seems  to  mo  that  I  can't  go 

long  thnnigh  the  day  without  seeing  you.     I  have  become, 

fear,  altogether  too  dependent  upon  you.     I  hope  that  you 

rill  not  be  melancholy.     My  company  is  not  very  lively ;  but 

the  evenings  it  is  better  than  nothing,  perhaps.     You  have 

le  dear  children,  however.     I  hate  to  think  of  them  now. 

)car   little    Susie,   she   looked    so   wild   yesterday   morning 

itting  up  in  bed  half-awake,  wondering  at  my  going.     Kiss 

ler  twenty-one  times  for  me,  and  give  as  many  to  my  dear 

jily  and  to  my  dear  little  Mary.     I  hope  they  will  all  be 

jood  children,  and  not  give  you  any  trouble  while  I  am  gone. 

Ever  thine, 
-  J.  L.  M. 


To  Ms  Wife. 

Long's  Hotel,  Bond  Street, 
May  10th,  1854. 

My  dearest  Mary, — I  wrote  to  you  day  before  yesterday 
mder  the  influence  of  a  most  ferocious  headache,  the  natural 

[consequence  of  my  journey.  That  letter  was  all  that  I  was 
3apable  of  accomplishing  that  day.  I  called  at  the  Sturgis's 
-day,  but  all  were  out.  Gardiner  Hubbard  and  his  wife  are 
staying  there.     Gardiner  called  to-day  upon  me,  but  1  was 

fnot  at  home.  Yesterday  I  made  an  ineffectual  attempt  to 
see  Mr.  Forsyth.  To-day  I  was  more  fortunate.  I  found  him 
it  his  chambers  in  the  Temple — a  most  intelligent,  agreeable, 

fgentleman-like  barrister,  about  my  own  age  I  should  guess. 
He  was  kind  enough  to  look  up  for  me  all  the  English  law  of 
copyright  as  regards  foreigners,  and  there  is  no  doubt  that 
the  property  of  the  American  author  is  protected  if  he  pub- 
lishes first,  by  however  small  an  interval,  in  England.  We 
talked  over  the  whole  matter  very  thoroughlp  He  decidedly 
recommended  my  trying  Murray  first ;  gave  me  a  note  to  him, 
with  which,  and  with  that  from  Dr.  Thompson,  I  forthwith 
proceeded  to  the  renowned  publisher's  door.  Murray  received 
mo  most  civilly,  and  impressed  me  very  agreeably.  He  seemed 
interested  in   my   subject,  and   entertained   the   question  of 


168  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  VI. 

publishing  as  favourably  as  I  could  expect.  When  I  went 
away,  his  porter  accompanied  me  to  my  hotel,  which  is  only 
one  street  from  Albemarle  Street,  where  Murray  resides,  took 
away  the  whole  of  the  MS.  in  his  bag,  and  it  is  at  present 
in  the  publisher's  possession.  Murray  is  to  give  me  an  answer 
in  a  fortnight  at  farthest.  So,  at  any  rate,  I  have  made  one 
step  forward,  and  I  don't  see  that  I  can  take  another.  If 
Murray  refuses  it  after  all,  there  will  not  be  time  to  offer  it 
to  another,  and  to  wait  for  the  decision.  Therefore  I  shall  in 
that  event  try  to  make  some  arrangement  to  have  it  offered,, 
and  have  the  answer  sent  me  by  letter.  If  Murray  declines,, 
however,  I  shall  doubt  very  much  whether  anybody  will  accept, 
because  history  is  very  much  in  his  line,  and  as  I  have  been 
j^articularly  recommended  to  him,  he  would  be  more  likely  to 
treat  with  me  than  anybody  else.  I  must,  therefore,  pause 
for  a  reply.  Of  course,  I  shall  let  you  know  as  soon  as  I  hear 
from  him. 

Meantime,  Mr.  Forsyth  came  to  see  me  here  to-day ;  invited 
me  to  dine  next  Monday ;  and  is  going  to  take  me  to  the 
Courts  to-morrow,  and  to  the  House  of  Lords,  before  a  Com- 
mittee of  which  he  is  to  argue  a  case.  In  the  evening  I  mean 
to  go,  if  I  can  get  a  ticket,  to  the  Opera — '  Don  Giovanni,* 
and  Bosio  as  Zerlina.  But  it  makes  me  so  sad  to  think  that 
you  will  not  be  at  my  side,  that  it  will  destroy  all  my 
pleasure.  I  went  at  four  o'clock  to-day  to  the  Noels' — found 
Mrs.  Noel  at  home.  She  received  me  in  such  a  warm-hearted,, 
affectionate  manner  that  I  felt  very  much  delighted.  I  called 
yesterday  at  the  Legation,  and  was  introduced  by  Bigelow 
Lawrence  to  Mr.  Buchanan.  He  has  obviously  no  intention, 
of  returning  my  call,  but  he  hoped  I  would  call  again.  I  shall 
probably  omit  "  calling  round,"  however.  I  went  to-day  to  see 
Bigelow  Lawrence's  new  wife.  She  is  very  pretty  and  pleasing.. 
By  the  way,  I  forgot  to  tell  you  that  Arthur  Forbes  called  on 
me  yesterday.  I  had  called  on  him  in  the  morning,  found 
him  out,  but  was  fortunate  enough  to  be  at  home  when  he 
called.  He  is  just  like  them  all — frank,  agreeable,  kind- 
hearted.  There,  my  dearest  Mary,  I  have  said  all  I  have  to 
say.    The  amount  is  meagre  enough.     I  am  dreadfully  home- 


1854.]  LONDON.  169 

sick,  and  long  to  bo  in  your  arms.  ^ly  dear  children— it 
sooms  impossible  for  me  to  exist  the  rest  of  the  month  without 
them  aud  you.  To-day  the  weather  has  been  fine  but  cold. 
Monday  and  Tuesday  it  poured  pitilessly  all  the  time. 

Ever  thine, 

J.  L.  M. 


To  his  Wife. 

Long'fl  Hotel,  Bond  Street, 
Wednesday  morning.  May  18th,  1854. 

My  dearest  Mary, — As  it  is  three  days  since  I  wrote  last, 
I  am  sitting  down  in  my  den  before  going  down  to  the  coffee- 
room  for  breakfast,  in  order  to  scratch  you  hurriedly  a  few 
lines  merely  to  say  that  I  am  very  well,  and  to  thank  you  for 
your  dear  letter,  which  I  found  upon  the  table  the  day  before 
yesterday  morning.     I  like  Mr.  Forsyth  very  much.     He  is  a 
very   good    advocate.      I   heard   him   argue   an   appeal   case 
,  yesterday  before  the  House  of  Lords,  that  is  to  say  before  the 
[Lord  Chancellor,  two  ex-Chancellors,  and   one  or  two  other 
(peers,  sitting  as  a  High  Court  of  Appeal,     He  spoke  very  well, 
as  did  his  colleagues  in  the  case,  although  they  are  sure  to 
lose  it.     By  the  way,  I  had  also  an  opportunity  of  hearing  the 
Lord   Chancellor,  Lord   Brougham,  and   Lord   St.   Leonards 
deliver  judgment  successfully  upon  another  case,  and  that  was 
about  the  most  interesting  thing   I  have   seen   in  London. 
Brougham    is    much    flattered    in   Punch,  the    actual    phy- 
siognomy  being    much   more    quizzical,   but  his   manner   is 
impressive,  and  the  old  man  has  still  much  blood   in   him. 
iThe  present  Chancellor,  Lord  Cranworth,  is   charming,  pre- 
siding with  most  unaffected  grace   and   suavity  of  manner, 
[courteous,  smiling,  gentle,  with  a  constant  attention  to  every- 
I thing  said  by  the  counsel,  and  making  all  Itis  interlocutory 
observations  in  a  most  musical  voice. 

I  dined  on  Sunday  at  the  Sturgis's.  She  is  certainly 
^extremely  handsome,  much  more  so  than  she  ever  was. 
Mrs.  Hubbard  and  Gardiner  made  a  thousand  most  affec- 
tionate inquiries  about  you.     After  dinner.  Mr.  Cabot's  health 


170  MOTLEY'S  LETTEES.  [Chap.  VI. 

was  proposed  by  Sturgis.  Yesterday,  in  Bond  Street,  I  came 
plump  upon  Lord  Wynford.  He  was  passing,  but  half  looked 
at  me.  When  I  accosted  him  and  told  him  my  name,  he  was 
extremely  cordial,  shook  me  warmly  by  both  hands,  hoped  I 
could  come  to  see  him,  etc.,  etc.  We  talked  five  or  six  minutes 
in  the  street,  and  separated  affectionately.  He  made  the  most 
earnest  inquiries  after  you,  for  whom  I  am  sure  he  has  a 
sincere  liking. 

Ever  your  own 

J.  L.  M. 


To  Ms  Mother. 

...  I  went  last  Friday  night  and  heard  a  long  and  dull 
debate  in  the  House  of  Commons.  Such  speakers  as  Webster 
and  Choate  are  not  to  be  scared  up  in  England  just  now.  I  don't 
say  this  in  glorification  of  our  free  and  enlightened  Republic. 
Don't  suspect  me  of  too  much  patriotism.  I  have  vastly  more 
respect  for  the  Government  of  England  than  for  our  own — 
the  nation  I  can't  help  considering  governed  by  higher  prin- 
ciples of  action,  by  loftier  motives.  They  at  least  try  to 
reform  abuses  and  admit  their  existence.  We  love  our  dis- 
eases, and  cling  to  them  as  the  only  source  of  health  and 
strength.  When  you  look  at  America  from  a  distance,  you 
see  that  it  is  a  great  machine  for  constantly  extending  the 
growth  of  cotton  and  expanding  the  area  of  negro  slavery. 
This  is  the  real  motive  power  of  our  whole  political  existence, 
and  such  a  principle  can  only  carry  us  over  a  precipice ;  yet  all 
who  lift  their  tongues  and  voices  against  the  course,  or  who 
express  their  disgust  at  the  hyj)ocrisy  of  a  nation  prating^  of 
freedom  Avhen  i^s  whole  aim  is  to  perpetuate  slavery,  are 
esteemed  mischievous  and  malignant.  England  is  just  now, 
with  the  most  tremWdous  naval  armament  which  ever  existed 
in  the  world,  engaging  reluctantly  in  a  war  of  duty  to  oppose  the 
encroachments  of  the  Eastern  despotism ;  and  we  are  playing 
the  part  of  Russia  in  the  West,  and  seizing  the  opportunity, 
while  France  and   Great  Britain  are  otherwise   occupied,  to 


1S55.]  PRErAllATIONS  FOll  PUBLICATION.  171 

pitik  a  quarrel  with  Spain,  and  so  steal  Cuba,  and  annex  half 
A  million  more  negroes.  However,  I  don't  see  the  use  of 
my  boring  you  with  all  those  profound  reflections.  If  the 
governor  abuses  me  for  want  of  patriotism,  ho  ought  to  recol- 
lect that  his  patriotism  took  root  and  grew  up  when  General 
Washington,  Alexander  Hamilton,  John  Jay,  George  Cabot, 

kand  others,  were  the  guiding  spirits  of  the  country.     We  are 
now  in  the  epoch  of  ...  .   and  it  is  hard  to  revere  such 
creatures,  or  the  country  which  looks  to  them  for  guidance. 


To  his  Father. 

Vevey, 
March  3rd,  1855. 

My  dear  Father, — In  answer  to  your  P.S.  to  Susie's  letter 
received  yesterday,  I  would  say  that  I  am  quite  aware  of  the 
dictum  of  Lord  Cranworth  to  which  Mr.  Prescott  alluded.     I 
am  not  able  to  take  advantage  of  it,  however,  as  the  expense 
of  going  a  second  time  to  England  would  bo  more  than  the 
copyright  is  Avorth.     I  suppose  the  time  of  publication  will  be 
about  Christmas,  at  which  season  I  should  be  in  Italy.     To 
leave  my  family  and  go  to  England  and  return  again,  would 
be  very  expensive,  and  hardly  worth  while  to  secure  a  copy- 
right which  I  could  not  sell  for  £100.     It  may  be  very  well 
for  Mr.  Prescott  to  do  so,  as  he  can  sell  his  books  for  £1000  a 
volume  or  more.     Please  tell  him,  by  the  way,  with  my  par- 
ticular regards,  that  I  have  been  upon  the  point  of  writing  to 
him  every  day  for  the  last  four  years,  that  I  have  not  done  so 
is  because  I  cannot  overcome  my  repugnance  to  writing  and 
talking  about  myself,  and  I  have  nothing  else  to  talk  about, 
leading   such  a  recluse  and  obscure   existence.      We   had  a 
perfect  understanding  about  our  respective  plans  before  I  went 
away.     I  remember  that  ho  thought  that  it  might  be  better  if 
we  should  arrange  to  publish  at  somewhat  difterent  times,  as 
the  works  are  a  good  deal  upon  the  same  subject.     As  this  is 
A  consideration,  however,  which  only  affects  me,  as  my  work 
can't  interfere  with  the  sale  of  his,  I  have  never  thought  it  a 


172  MOTLEY'S  LETTEKS.  [Chap.  VI. 

matter  of  great  consequence,  particularly  as  I  don't  know,  and. 
never  shall  know,  when  I  ought  to  publish. 

Now  I  am  on  the  subject,  however,  I  wish  you  would  add 
that  my  work  (that  is  to  say  the  portion  of  it  which  is  really 
for  publication)  stops  at  the  year  1584,  with  the  death  of  the 
Prince  of  Orange.  This  was  unavoidable,  as  it  was  quite  im- 
possible for  me  to  speculate  in  more  than  three  volumes  at 
once ;  and  although  I  have  cut  away  at  my  MS.  with  a  broad 
axe  in  order  to  reduce  it,  I  can't  squeeze  it  into  less.  If  I 
receive  enough  encouragement,  which  I  don't  expect,  to  finish 
this  work,  I  shall  write  three  more  volumes,  in  order  to  bring 
my  history  dowrf  to 'the  Peace  of  Westphalia,  1648.  Philip 
the  Second,  although  he  is,  of  course,  the  Bens  ex  macliina  in 
much  of  my  present  work,  is  not  my  head  devil,  and  he  will 
have  still  less,  and  almost  nothing,  to  do  in  the  continuation. 

I  still  mean  to  write  to  Mr.  Prescott,  but  I  thought  I 
would  send  him  this  message  through  you,  for  I  would  not 
have  him  think  me  forgetful  of  the  many  acts  of  kindness 
and  friendship  which  I  have  received  at  his  hands,  and  it 
is  possible  that  he  might  wish  to  hear  my  plans.  With 
regard  to  my  time  of  publication,  I  am  inclined  to  leave  that 
to  you.^  You,  in  the  most  generous  manner,  have  con- 
stituted yourself  my  fellow-victim,  and  you  shall  choose  the 
time  of  immolation.  I  suppose  by  the  time  this  reaches 
you,  or  very  soon  afterwards,  the  two  copies  of  Volume  I. 
will  be  received.  I  have  already  mentioned  in  my  letter  to 
Annie  ^  all  that  I  have  to  say  thereanent.  I  should  not  like 
Mr.  Cabot  to  see  it  till  it  is  finished,  because  I  know  he 
would  feel  an  interest  in  it,  and  it  will  seem  so  flat  taken  in 
piecemeal.  The  same  principle  applies  to  Uncle  Edward.  I 
should  not  like  him  to  read  it  till  he  can  do  it  all  at  once,  and 
make  a  job  of  it.  At  the  same  time  it  is,  of  course,  quite  at 
his  service  if  he  chooses  to  do  so.  I  am  afraid  that  he  will  be 
a  good  deal  of  the  opinion  of  the  old  gentleman  to  whom 
;  Jedediah  Cleishbotham  showed  the  first  series  of  the  '  Tales  of 
\  My  Landlord.'     The  friendly  critic  informed  the  author,  you 

Mr.  Motley's  first  historic  work,      was  published  in"1856. 
\The   Kise   of  the  Dutch  Kepublic,'  ^  His  sister,  Mrs.  Alfred  Kodman. 


1855.]  FRANKFORT— BASEL.  173 

know,  that  he  has  hitoly  been  reading  a  work  which  gave  him 
no  peace  at  all,  that  ho  had  not  been  able,  however  desirous, 
to  lay  it  down  till  he  had  read  every  line  of  it.  On  the  other 
hand,  he  congratulated  Jedediah  that  his  work  had  no  such 
defect,  but  that  it  was  one  which  could  be  laid  down  at  any 
moment  with  the  utmost  tranquillity.  This  would  be  rather  a 
reason  for  the  sage  of  Fort  Hill  ^  to  begin  upon  the  ponderous 
task  at  the  earliest  opportunity.  At  the  same  time  I  advise 
him  not  to  do  so.  I  shall  write  again  before  long,  before  it  will 
be  necessary  to  square  our  accounts,  which  won't  be  till  the 
autumn,  I  suppose,  when  the  job  will  have  to  be  paid  for.  My 
love,  and  all  our  loves,  to  my  dear  mother,  as  well  as  yourself. 

Ever  yours  affectionately, 

J.  L.  M. 


To  his  Wife. 

Frankfort, 
July  27th,  1855. 

My  dearest  Mary, — The  waiters  have  brought  me  a  tre- 
mendously large  sheet  of  paper,  but  I  am  afraid  that  I  shall 
hardly  be  able  to  fill  it  up  in  a  very  interesting  manner.     My 
journey  to   Basel,  notwithstanding    the    rain,  was    pleasant 
enough.     The  road  is  not  at  all  interesting,  all  the  beauty 
being  in  the  Minster  Thai,  in  the  other  direction.     My  com- 
panion in  the  coupe  was  an  old  Spicier,  or  something  of  the 
kind,  from  Berlin,  who  appeared  to  have  been  making  the 
first  journey  of  his  life.     He  had  been  up  the  Eigi,  the  Wen- 
gem  Alp,  etc.,  and  although  he  seemed  about  seventy-five,  he 
assured  me  he  had  suffered  no  fatigue.     He  had  no  teeth,  but, 
en  revanche,  had  a  bouquet  of  Alpine  roses  in  his  hatband.    His 
artless  prattle  was  very  refreshing  for  a  little  while,  but  when 
he  began  to  put  the  usual   questions  about   my  intentions, 
objects  in  life,  occupations,  etc.,  he  became  a  Itore,  and  I  took 
refuge  in  a  novel.  .  .  .  The  journey  to  Basel  only  occujjied  ten 
hours,  the  last  hour  on  the  railway,  so  that  you  get  to  the 
hotel  soon  after  five.  .  .  .  The  next  morning  I  started  from  the 

'  His  uncle,  Edward  Motley,  a  most  kind  friend. 


174  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  VI. 

railway  terminiis  (the  railroad  is  finished  to  Basel)  at  7.30, 
and  reached  Frankfort  at  4 .  30.  As  soon  as  I  was  dressed  1 
started  for  Bismarck's  house,  having  previously  learned  that 
Keyserling,^  to  my  great  regret,  had  not  arrived. 

When  I  called,  Bismarck  was  at  dinner,  so  I  left  my  card, 
and  said  I  would  come  back  in  half  an  hour.     As  soon  as  my 
card  had  been  carried  to  him  (as  I  learned  afterwards)  he  sent 
a  servant  after  me  to  the  hotel,  but  I  had  gone  another  way. 
When  I  came  back  I  was  received  with  open  arms.     I  can't 
express  to  you  how  cordially  he  received  me.^     If  I  had  been 
his  brother,  instead  of  an  old  friend,  he  could  not  have  shown 
more  warmth  and  affectionate  delight  in  seeing  me.     I  find 
I  like  him  even  better  than  I  thought  I  did,  and  you  know 
how  high  an  opinion  I  always  expressed  of  his  talents  and 
disposition.     He  is  a  man  of  very  noble  character,  and  of  very 
great  powers  of  mind.     The  prominent  place  which  he  noAv 
occupies  as  a  statesman  sought  him.     He  did  not  seek  it,  or 
any  other  oflRce.     The  stand  which  he  took  in  the  Assembly 
from  conviction,  on   the  occasion  of  the  outbreak    of   1848, 
marked   him  at   Once  to  all   parties  as  one  of  the    leading 
characters  of  Prussia.     Of  course  I  don't  now    go  into  the 
rights  and  wrongs  of  the  matter,  but  I  listened  with  great 
interest,  as  you  may  suppose,  to  his  detailed  history  of  the 
revolutionary  events  of  that  year,  and   his   share    in  them, 
which  he  narrated  to  me  in  a  long  conversation  which  we  had 
last  night.     He  wanted  me  to  stay  entirely  in  his  house,  but 
as  he  has  his  wife's  father  and  mother  with  him,  and  as  I  saw 
that  it  was  necessary  to  put  up  a  bed  in  a  room  where  there 
was  none,  I  decidedly  begged  off.     I  breakfasted  there  this 
morning,  and  am  to  dine  there,  with  a  party,  to-day.     To- 
morrow, I  suppose,  I  shall  dine  there  en  famille.     I  am  only 
afraid  that  the  landlord  here  will  turn  me  into  the  streets  for 
being  such  a  poor  consommateur  for  him,  and  all  I  can  do  is  to 
order  vast  quantities  of  seltzer  water. 

The  principal  change  in  Bismarck  is  that    he  has  grown 

^  Count  Hermann  Keyserling,  a  fel-      since  leaving  the  Universities  of  Got- 
low-student  at  Gottingen.  tingen  and  Berlin. 

^  It  was  the  first  time  they  had  met 


I 


1855.]       BAKON   BISMARCK,  CHARACTER  AND  CARKEi:.  175 

f  stouter,  but,  being  over  six  feet,  this  is  an  improvement. 
iHis  voice  and  manner  are  singularly  unchanged.  His  wife 
:I  like  very  much  indeed — very  friendly,  intelligent,  and  per- 
Ifectly  unaffected,  and  treats  me  like  an  old  friend.  In  short, 
il  can't  better  describe  the  couple  than  by  saying  that  they 

[are  as  unlike  M.  and  Madame  do as  it  is  possible  to  be. 

In  the  summer  of  1851,  he  told  me  that  tho  Minister, 
["Manteuffel,  asked  him  one  day  abruptly,  if  he  Avould  accept 
the  post  of  Ambassador  at  Frankfort,  to  which  (although  tho 
proposition  was  as  unexpected  a  one  to  him  as  if  I  should 
hear  by  the  next  mail  that  I  had  been  chosen  Governor  of 
Massachusetts)  hfe  answered,  after  a  moment's  deliberation, 
yes,  without  another  word.  The  King,  the  same  day,  sent  for 
him,  and  asked  him  if  he  would  accept  the  place,  to  which 
he  made  the  same  brief  answer,  "  Ja."  His  Majesty  expressed 
a  little  surprise  that  he  made  no  inquiries  or  conditions, 
when  Bismarck  replied  that  anything  which  the  King  felt 
strong  enougli  to  propose  to  him,  he  felt  strong  enough  to 
accept.  I  only  write  these  details  that  you  may  have  an  idea 
of  the  man.  Strict  integrity  and  courage  of  character,  a  high 
sense  of  honour,  a  firm  religious  belief,  united  with  remarkable 
talents,  make  up  necessarily  a  combination  which  cannot  be 
found  any  day  in  any  Court ;  and  I  have  no  doubt  that  he  is 
destined  to  be  Prime  Minister,  unless  his  obstinate  truth- 
fulness, which  is  apt  to  be  a  stumbling-block  for  politicians, 
stands  in  his  way.  .  .  . 

Well,  he  accepted  the  post  and  wrote  to  his  wife  next  day, 
who  was  preparing  for  a  summer's  residence  in  a  small  house 
they  had  taken  on  the  sea  coast,  that  he  could  not  come 
because  he  was  already  established  in  Frankfort  as  Minister. 
The  result,  he  said,  was  three  days  of  tears  on  her  part.  He 
had  previously  been  leading  the  life  of  a  plain  country  squire 
with  a  moderate  income,  had  never  held  any  position  in  tho 
Government  or  in  diplomacy,  and  had  hardly  ever  been  to 
Court.  He  went  into  the  office  with  a  holy  horror  of  the 
mysterious  nothings  of  diplomacy,  but  soon  found  how  little 
there  was  in  the  whole  "  galimatias."  Of  course  my  politics 
are  very  different  from  him,  although  not  so  antipodal  tis  you 


176  MOTLEY'S  LETTEES.  [Chap.  VI. 

might  suppose,  but  I  can  talk  with  him  as  frankly  as  I  could 
with  you,  and  I  am  glad  of  an  opportunity  of  hearing  the 
other  side  put  by  a  man  whose  talents  and  character  I  esteem, 
and  who  so  well  knows  le  dessous  des  cartes.  M.  de  Veh  is 
here,  but  goes  back  to  Vevey,  I  believe,  to-morrow.  Bismarck 
has  invited  him  to  dinner  to-day.  He  is  as  surprised  as  I 
not  to  find  Keyserling,  and  can't  account  for  his  absence. 
Good-bye,  my  dearest  Mary,  I  have  got  to  the  end  of  the 
sheet  without  saying  a  word  about  you  and  my  darlings .... 


To  his  Wife. 

Frankfort, 
Saturday,  July  28th,  1855. 

I  have  just  consented  to  wait  here  until  Wednesday  morn- 
ing. ...  I  send  the  despatch  from  Bismarck's  house,  and  I 
have  just  come  back  to  write  you  this  hurried  line,  as  I  must 
go  back  to  dine  with  him  at  four.  Madame  de  Bismarck 
begs  me  to  convey  the  kindest  messages  on  her  part  to  you, 
and  to  say  that  she  depends  upon  the  pleasure  of  making 
your  acquaintance  here  this  autumn  or  the  end  of  the 
summer,  and  I  have  promised  that  we  will  stop  a  day  or  two 
in  Frankfort  on  our  way  to  Paris.  I  am  perfectly  sure  that 
you  will  like  her — you  could  not  help  it.  She  is  so  amiable, 
gentle  and  agreeable  in  every  way,  that  I  feel  as  if  we 
had  been  ten  years  acquainted.  She  and  her  mother  have 
both  assured  me  over  and  over  again  that  Bismarck  was 
nearly  out  of  his  wits  with  delight  when  he  saw  my  card. 
I  should  certainly  not  say  such  a  thing  to  anybody  hut  you,  but 
you  and  I  are  not  so  overburdened  with  self-esteem  but  that 
we  may  afford  to  tell  each  other  the  truth  in  such  matters, 
and  it  really  gives  me  pleasure  to  know  that  a  man  of  whom 
I  think  so  highly  has  such  a  warm  and  sincere  friendship  for 
me.  I  am  surevthat  you  will  like  him,  and  I  only  regret  that 
we  can  see  so  lit^e  or  nothing  of  each  other  for  the  rest  of  our 
lives.  There  areYhree  children — a  little  girl  named  Marie,  as 
sweet  as  Susie,  to  t^-hom  I  gave  this  morning  a  little  locket  in 


1855.]  BISMARCK'S  H03IE.  177 

Susie's  name,  and  told  her  that  Susie  would  give  her  a  lock 
of  red  hair  to  put  in  it  when  she  saw  her.  She  put  her  arms 
round  my  neck  and  kissed  me,  and  trotted  off  in  the  greatest 
glee  to  sliow  it  to  hor  grandpapa  and  grandmamma. 

I  feel  as  much  at  home  already  as  at  Mr.  Cabot's,  and  I  should 
have  almost  as  little  fear  of  wearing  out  my  welcome  here  as 
there.  At  the  dinner  yesterday  were  some  strangers — Prus- 
sians— Count  Roedem,  brother  of  the  Prussian  Minister  in 
Dresden,  and  his  wife  and  sister.  M.  de  Veh  was  there,  and 
as  friendly  and  agreeable  as  ever.  He  is  off  this  morning  to 
Schwalbach,  and  to-morrow  returns  to  Vevey.  After  dinner, 
Jismarck  and  his  wife,  myself,  and  a  youthful  attache  with 
le  terrific  name  of  Baron  Schreckenstein,  took  a  long  ride 
m  horseback  in  a  beautiful  forest  on  the  other  side  of  the 
Main,  and  on  our  return  found  M.  de  Veh  and  the  father-in- 
-law still  deeply  absorbed  at  the  chess-table  where  we  had  left 
them.  At  eleven  o'clock  we  tried  very  hard  to  eat  supper, 
but  nobody  succeeded  very  well,  and  at  twelve  I  came  home. 


To  his  Wife. 

Frankfort, 
Monday,  Jtdij  30th,  1855. 

.  .  .  The  Bismarcks  are  as  kind  as  ever — nothing  can  be 

lore  frank  and  cordial  than  her  manners.     I  am  there  all  day 

long.     It  is  one  of  those  houses  where  every  one  does  what 

[one  likes.     The  show  apartments  where  they  receive  formal 

jompany  are  on  the  front  of  the  house.     Their  living  rooms, 

lowever,  are  a  salon  and  dining  room  at  the  back,  opening 

ipon  the  garden.     Here  there  are  young  and  old,  grand- 

rparents  and  children  and  dogs  all  at  once,  eating,  drinking, 

[smoking,  piano-playing,  and  pistol-firing  (in  the  garden),  all 

[going  on  at  the  same  time.     It  is  one  of  those  establishments 

[where  every  earthly  thing  that  can  be  eaten  or  drunk  is  offered 

[you,  porter,  soda  water,  small  beer,  champagne,  burgundy  or 

[claret  are  about  all  the  time,  and  everybody  is  smoking  the 

[best  Havana  cigars  every  minute.     Last  night  we  went  to  the 

VOL.   I.  N 


178  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  VI. 

theatre  to  see  the  first  part  of  '  Henry  -IV.'  The  Falstaff  was 
tolerable,  the  others  very  indifferent.  By  the  way  I  was  glad  to 
find  that  both  Bismarck  and  his  wife  agree  with  me  that  Emil 
Devrient  was  a  very  second-rate  actor.  I  must  go  out  directly 
and  buy  a  brooch  for  my  dear  little  Mary.  Little  Bill,  as  the 
Bismarcks  call  their  youngest  boy  of  two  years,  was  born  on 
the  same  day,  and  I  am  going  to  buy  him  a  trumpet.  A 
thousand  kisses  to  Lily,  Mary  and  Susie,  and  accept  for 
yourself  the  fondest  and  deepest  affection  of 

Your  own 

J.  L.  M. 


To  his  Wife. 

Long's  Hotel, 
Thursday  morning,  October  18th,  1855. 

My  dearest  Mary, — I  write  these  few  lines  merely  to  tell 
you  that  I  arrived  sain  et  sauf  in  London  yesterday  forenoon 
at  half-past  ten.  I  crossed  the  Channel  at  three.  The  weather 
was  very  good,  and  the  sea  very  smooth.  The  ladies  on  board 
were  all  desperately  sea-sick,  much  to  my  astonishment,  such 
demonstrations  being  entirely  unauthorised  by  any  of  the 
circumstances.  I  stopped  at  Dover  for  the  night,  finding  it 
very  ridiculous  to  hurry  up  to  London  at  midnight,  as  every- 
body in  that  metropolis  was  likely  to  get  on  very  well  without 
me  till  the  following  morning.  The  inn,  the  "  Lord  Warden 
Hotel,"  is  one  of  the  best  in  England.  My  washing-stand  in 
itself  Avas  enough  to  inspire  one  with  veneration  for  the  whole 
British  nation ;  two  great  water  jugs  as  big  as  those  in  the 
^Marriage  of  Cana,'  by  Paolo  Veronese,  a  wash  basin  big  enough 
to  swim  in,  celestial  slop  jars,  heaps  of  clean  towels,  etc.,  and 
more  water  than  was  ever  seen  in  one  place  in  Paris,  except 
in  the  Ecoles  de  Natation,  all  made  one  feel  very  comfortable. 
A  Frenchman  would  have  been  wretched,  however,  for  there 
were  not  two  clocks  or  even  four  mirrors  in  the  chamber,  but  I 
solaced  myself  with  the  remembrance  of  the  splendour  I  had 
left  in  Paris,  and  with  the  potentiality  of  being  clean  a  few 
brief  days  in  England.     I  am  sorry,  however,  to  say  that  I  am 


1855.]  THE  FORTHCOMING  'UISTORY.'  179 

not  as  well  off  here.  I  have  a  good  enough, bachelor  chamber, 
but  it  looks  like  a  hospital  for  invalided  or  incurable  furniture. 
The  bed  is  as  wide  as  Oxford  Street,  it  is  also  quite  as  hard, 
the  mattresses  being  evidently  stuflfed  with  paving  stones 
from  that  classic  and  stony-hoarted  step-mother.  I  stopped  at 
Chapman's  on  my  way  up  from  the  railroad,  so  commenced 
business  sooner  than  if  I  had  not  slept  at  Dover,  filled  up  the 
form  of  application  for  the  copyright,  and  in  short  did  all  that 
was  necessary  before  coming  to  Long's.  We  have  decided  of 
course  to  defer  actual  publication  till  the  other  (American 
edition)  is  ready.  .  .  . 

Ever  your  own 

J.  L.  M. 


To  his  Mother. 

Florence, 
November  18</i,  1855. 

My  dearest  Mother, — We  have  arrived  at  the  only  stop- 
ping place  which  we  shall  have  for  a  long  time  to  come, 
having  taken  lodgings  for  three  months  in  a  quiet  house  with 
the  southern  sun  upon  it.  .  .  .  You  have  been  aware  of  our 
whereabouts  by  the  letters  which  Mary  has  occasionally 
Avritten,  and  by  the  notes  which  have  been  dropping  between 
the  governor  and  me  from  time  to  time.  I  can't  omit 
this  opportunity  of  expressing  my  deep  gratitude  to  him  for 
his  most  efficient  and  generous  assistance  in  the  matter  of 
ray  history.  I  am  highly  gratified  with  the  pleasure  which 
the  work  seems  to  have  afforded  to  him,  to  you,  to  Uncle 
Edward,  and  other  members  of  the  family,  and  I  beg  you  to 
thank  Tom  for  the  great  trouble  he  has  taken  in  regard  to  the 
matter.  I  fear  very  much,  however,  that  the  governor  and 
the  rest  are  doomed  to  much  disappointment*  in  regard  to 
its  success.  It  cannot  take  in  England,  and  moreover  the  war, 
Macaulay's  new  volumes,  and  Prescott's,  will  entirely  absorb 
the  public  attention.  I  am  extremely  gratified  that  Hillard 
has  been  so  kind  as  to  wTite  an  article  upon  the  book.  I 
think  that  the   governor  quoted   his  opinion,   as  upon   the 

N  2 


180  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  TL 

whole  favourable,  and  certainly  nobody  could  be  more  compe- 
tent to  review  it,  or  can  write  more  brilliantly.  I  think  some- 
thing was  said  about  his  only  having  time  to  write  a  short 
article.  I  would  rather  he  should  take  time  and  defer  it  to 
the  April  number,  than  not  have  ample  room  and  verge 
enough  allowed  him.  The  book  is  so  ponderous  that  it 
ought  to  sustain  a  weighty  article.  Of  course  the  governor 
will  pay  heed  to  this  suggestion,  and  so  no  more  of  thi& 
subject.  We  left  Vevey  after  more  than  a  year's  residence 
(very  profitably  employed  for  the  children)  towards  the  end  of 
July.  We  passed  some  little  time  in  Berne,  at  which  place  I 
left  my  family  in  charge  of  the  Fays,  in  order  to  make  a  visit 
to  an  old  University  friend  of  mine,  Baron  Bismarck,  with 
whom  I  was  very  intimate  twenty  years  ago  in  Gottingen  and 
Berlin,  and  who  is  now  almost  the  most  important  statesman 
in  Prussia. 

During  my  absence,  Mary  and  the  children  have  passed 
the  time  very  agreeably  in  Berne,  owing  to  the  constant  and 
unremitting  attentions  of  Fay  ^  (our  Minister  to  Switzerland) 
and  his  wife.  I  believe  I  have  mentioned  them  often  in  my 
letters.  If  not,  I  will  only  say  that  he  is  almost  the  best  man 
I  ever  knew,  one  who  is  never  thoroughly  happy  unless  he  is 
conferring  a  favour  upon  some  one  else.  You  may  judge  of 
the  pain  which  was  caused  to  all  of  us  a  few  weeks  afterwards, 
by  our  hearing  at  Interlaken  of  Mrs.  Fay's  death.  Fay  wrote 
to  me  repeatedly  during  her  illness,  and  telegraphed  to  me  at 
its  melancholy  termination,  and  I  went  immediately  to  Berne, 
and  was  with  him  till  after  the  funeral.  She  was  a  very 
honest,  frank,  kind-hearted,  devoted  person,  and  is  an  irrepar- 
able loss  to  her  husband  and  her  only  child.  They  came 
afterwards  to  Interlaken  for  a  little  while.  He  bears  the  loss 
very  well,  being,  fortunately  for  himself,  the  most  believing 
and  devout  Christian  I  ever  knew.  I  have  not  heard  from  him 
since  we  left  Switzerland,  but  I  shall  write  to  him  to-morrow. 

Upon  leaving  Switzerland,  we  passed  a  month  in  Paris. 
I  don't  like  to  say  much  about  that  episode  in  our  history, 
because  the  immense  fatigue  and  expense  of  passing  four 
^  Theodore  S.  Fny. 


1855]  PARIS  UNDER  THE  EMPIRE.  181 

weeks  in  that  place  so  entirely  counter-balances  all  satis- 
faction which  can  bo  derived  from  it,  that  I  cannot  speak 
tipon  the  subject  without  injustice  and  exaggeration.  At 
the  same  time,  there  is  no  doubt  that  the  city  itself  is  the 
most  beautiful  in  the  world.  Most  of  the  works  of  im- 
provement going  on  there  now  are  very  extensive  and  ex- 
pensive, and  many  of  them  have  been  carried  on  at  a  sacri- 
iice  of  much  that  was  striking  and  picturesque  in  ancient 
Varis.  They  are  occasioning  vast  outlay,  for  which  a  heavy 
debt  has  been  created,  partly  by  the  State,  partly  by  the 
JMunicipality,  to  defray  the  interest  of  which  the  taxes  are 
rising  daily.  It  is  also  very  difficult  for  small  tradesmen  and 
mechanics  to  get  houses  and  shops,  all  having  been  pulled 
<lowu  in  many  quarters  to  make  room  for  lengthening  lines  of 
palaces  and  arcades,  which  yield  no  lodgings  for  poor  devils. 
Yet  it  is  the  custom  to  say  that  Louis  Napoleon  is  doing 
wonders  in  providing  work  for  the  poor  people.  I  suppose  if 
the  Massachusetts  Legislature  and  the  Boston  City  Govern- 
ment should  create  a  debt  of  $40,000,000,  in  order  to  build 
a  palace,  reaching  from  the  old  State  House  to  Roxbury  Line, 
for  Governor  Armstrong  and  his  descendants  to  live  in,  and  if 
they  should  create  a  further  debt,  in  order  to  knock  down  all 
the  town  between  Park  Street  Church  and  Copp's  Hill,  and 
put  up  in  the  place  of  the  demolished '  buildings  a  series  of 
'j^ranite,  eight-storey  palaces  with  continuous  arcades,  it  would 
be  considered  an  act  of  great  wisdom  and  benevolence,  con- 
sidering the  number  of  Irish  hodmen  and  other  labourers  who 
would  be  sure  to  get  employment,  and  yet  this  is  pretty  much 
^vhat  is  going  on  in  Paris. 

After  leaving  Paris,  we  took  the  train  to  Lyons,  stopping  one 
night  in  Dijon.  At  Lyons,  we  found  by  appointment  an  Italian 
vetturino,  with  whom  we  had  made  many  journeys  in  Switzer- 
land, and  who  has  four  very  good  horses  and  a*  comfortable 
carriage.  With  him  we  went  to  Chambery,  over  the  Mont 
Cenis  to  Turin,  and  then  by  rail  to  Genoa,  where  we  resumed 
our  vetturino,  and  came  with  him  to  Florence,  for  a  vetticrino*s 
horses  are  like  "  the  pampered  jades  of  Asia,"  which,  accord- 
ing to  Ancient  "  Pistol,"  cannot  go  but  "  forty  miles  a  day." 


182  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  VL 

We  found  Frank  Boott  here,  who  had  kindly  saved  us  much 
trouble  by  looking  over  the  vacant  lodgings,  so  that  our  Avork 
was  much  simplified.  .  .  .  We  spent  an  evening  with  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Putnam  last  week.  The  Alexanders  Avere  there,  and  we 
saw  a  large  quantity  of  Fanny  Alexander's  drawings,  and  I 
assure  you  they  are  really  wonderful.^  She  draws  entirely 
with  pen  and  ink,  composing  out  of  her  own  imagination  or 
from  her  recollection.  But  her  facility  and  grace  and  purity 
of  style  are  unequalled  by  any  modern  drawings  which  I  ever 
saw.  She  has  the  good  taste  to  form  her  artistic  education  in 
the  school  of  the  wonderful  Quattro  Centisti  of  Florence,  the 
painters,  I  mean,  of  the  fifteenth  century,  whose  works  have 
spread  such  a  halo  of  glory  around  this  city,  and  which 
heralded  the  extraordinary  effulgence  which  was  to  illumine 
the  Avorld  in  the  early  part  of  the  fifteenth  century.  In  these 
pre-Eaphaelite  productions  Florence  is  very  rich.  Miss 
Alexander  has  not  tried  her  hand  at  painting  yet,  although 
she  believes  herself  to  have  more  feeling  for  colour  than  for 
any  other  department  of  Art.  She  draws  outlines,  human 
figures,  Madonnas,  peasant  girls,  saints  in  endless  variety, 
and  illustrates  old  Italian  songs,  of  which  she  furnishes 
herself  very  pretty  translations.  She  is  a  young  person  of 
unquestionable  genius,  and  as  simple  and  unaffected  as  she  is 
clever.  There  is  also  a  sculptor  here  named  Thomas  Ball, 
who  came  out  here  a  year  and  a  half  ago,  and  who  is  now 
going  home  again.  He  has  modelled  a  very  admirable 
statuette  of  Washington  Allston,  and  would  like  very  much 
to  have  an  order  to  execute  it  in  marble.  I  wish  you  would 
go  with  the  governor  to  see  it  Avhen  he  arrives,  which  will  be 
in  spring  or  early  summer.  Ask  Mr.  Frank  Gray  to  look  at  it. 
I  should  not  have  written  you  to-day,  my  dear  mother,  feeling 
that  I  have  nothing  to  say  which  can  possibly  amuse  you,  had 
I  not  received  a  letter  from  Chapman  yesterday,  in  which  he 
says  he  is  to  publish  my  History  forthwith. 

\  Ever  your  affectionate  son, 

\  J.  L.  M. 

\  *  Miss  Alexander  still  lives  at  Florence. 

\ 

\ 

V 


|l855.]  FLORENCE.  188 

To  his  Uncle,  Edward  Motley. 

Florence, 
December  ISth,  1855. 

My  dear  Uncle  Edward, — I  have  been  intending  day  after 
[day  and  week  after  week  to  write  to  you.  I  am  sorry  that 
^our  last    generous    present  of  £100  arrived    before  I  had 

ritten,  because  it  looks  almost  now  as  if  I  proposed  to 
lake  payment  by  a  few  sheets  of  notepaper,  and  I  am 
'afraid  that  even  your  indulgence  would  hardly  consider  my 
I  letters  as  cheap  at  such  a  price.  I  don't  pretend  to  thank  you 
for  all  your  generosity.  I  have  already  told  you  that  your 
constant  kindness  has  made  me  a  bankrupt  in  the  means  of 
repaying  you  even  in  words  just  now  ;  I  feel  as  it  were  over- 
whelmed by  the  liberality  with  which  I  have  been  treated 
both  by  you  and  the  governor.  I  am  sure  I  don't  know  how 
I  should  have  extricated  myself  from  my  printing  and  pub- 
lishing difficulties  but  for  the  timely  and  most  generous 
assistance  which  I  have  received. 

I  wish  I  knew  how  I  could  make  a  letter  interesting  or 
amusing  to  you.  The  truth  is  that  I  am  so  oppressed  by  a 
constitutional  melancholy,  which  grows  upon  me  very  rapidly, 
as  to  be  almost  incapacitated  from  making  myself  agreeable. 
You  know  how  to  sympathise  with  this  frame  of  mind,  and  I 
should  apologise  to  you  for  talking  about  my  blue  devils, 
when  I  know  that  you  are  yourself  haunted,  except  that  I 
thought  by  sending  a  swarm  of  them  across  the  Atlantic,  they 
might  have  an  encounter  with  the  legions  there,  and  mutually 
destroy  each  other. 

Florence  is  thought  in  many  respects  to  be  the  most  beau- 
tiful town  in  Europe,  yet  I  suppose  few  people  ever  look  about 
them  at  first  without  astonishment  that  it  should  ever  have 
attained  such  a  reputation.  The  reason  is  that  the  city  itself 
is  but  the  central  point  of  a  vast  periphery  pf  palaces,  villas, 
castles  and  villages,  which  extend  over  the  large  basin  of  the 
Arno.  The  city  itself  is  compact — the  gates  are  narrow ;  the 
houses  vast,  massive,  and  sombre,  with  fortress-like  walls, 
narrow  windows,  and   huge  butting  cornices;  the  churches 


184  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  VL 

heavy,  stern,  and  gloomy.  The  territory  in  the  midst  of 
which  the  town  has  been  standing  one  or  two  thousand  years 
(to  be  precise)  is  singularly  beautiful.  The  City  of  Flowers 
(for  that  is  its  fragrant  appellation)  is  built  upon  a  garden. 
A  flat,  verdant,  luxuriant  plain  of  three  or  four  miles  in  width 
is  encircled  by  a  chain  of  gently  flowing  mountains ;  and  if 
there  ever  were  any  little  hills  which  "  clapped  their  hands 
and  skipped  like  lambs  "  according  to  the  Psalmist,  these  are 
the  ones  to  do  it.  The  character  of  the  environs  is  as  jocund 
as  that  of  the  city  is  sombre.  All  the  hills  are  sown  broadcast 
with  palaces  and  castellated  mansions,  monasteries  and  villages 
gleaming  whitely  through  silvery  forests  of  olives,  luxuriant 
vines  and  solemn  cypresses.  The  town  itself,  with  the  towers 
and  belfries  in  its  centre,  is  but  the  heart  of  the  vast  flower ; 
the  stamens  and  pistils  and  inner  petals  are  here,  while  the 
beautiful  and  vast  corolla  unfolds  itself  far  and  wide  as  far  as 
the  eye  can  reach.  To  feel  this,  one  has  but  to  ascend  any 
steeple  of  any  height  outside  the  town,  and  see  how  Florence 
is  wrapped  up  and  encircled  by  a  series  of  little  Florences. 

The  Arno  is  not  much  of  a  river  in  appearance,  yellow  and 
shallow  and  full  of  gravel  banks,  yet  it  serves  to  keep  green 
the  velvet  cushions  upon  which  the  luxurious  city  lies  ex- 
tended like  Cleopatra  on  a  couch.  The  river  is  however  capable 
of  much  mischief,  and  in  times  past  has  produced  inundations 
very  like  the  deluge.  Five  hundred  years  ago  the  whole  town 
was  laid  under  water  to  the  depth  of  ten  feet.  Since  the 
canalisation  of  the  river  to  Leghorn,  however,  such  pranks  have 
become  impossible ;  but  even  last  year  the  whole  country 
round  was  overflowed,  and  it  was  almost  as  bad  this  autumn. 
It  is  not  used,  I  need  not  say,  for  purposes  of  navigation,  and 
it  would  be  quite  impossible  .now  for  a  city  placed  as  this  is 
to  attain  to  a  tithe  of  the  commercial  and  political  importance 
which  it  enjoyed  in  the  14th  and  15th  centuries.  If  one 
subtracts  from  the  list  of  articles  of  commerce  such  trifles  as 
tea  and  coffee,  ijugar,  tobacco  and  cotton,  which  make  up 
pretty  much  the  whole  bulk  of  the  world's  merchandise  just 
now,  one  can  understand  how  a  city  which  from  its  position 
could  take  no  part  in  such  trafiic,  could  rise  to  eminence  at  a 


1855.]  THE  GLORIES  OF  FLOBENCE.  185 

time  wlion  those  necessaries  of  life  had  not  been  invented, 
liofore  compasses,  Capes  of  Good  Hoi)e  and  Horn,  Californias 
and  Hong  Kongs  came  into  fashion,  it  was  easy  for  a  few 
cities  to  monopolise  the  business  of  the  world's  little  inter- 
changes of  commodities.  Genoa  had  its  factories  in  the  Crimea 
and  received  the  caravans  from  the  North  and  East ;  Venice, 
its  colonies  in  the  Levant,  and  Florence,  with  its  great  banking 
houses  and  manufactories,  its  large  capital,  its  sound  metallic 
currency,  its  corn  and  oil,  received  the  golden  streams  as  they 
flowed  from  the  urns  of  its  sister  cities,  and  conducted  them 
northward  through  the  marble  aqueduct  of  a  few  splendid  cities 
in  Germany  and  the  Netherlands.     All  this  is  changed  now. 

Moreover  the  trade  and  the  enterprise  of  the  city  flourished 
only  during  its  republican  organisation.  I  think  the  advo- 
cates of  a  democratic  system  had  better  rest  their  case  on  the 
achievements  of  two  cities,  Athens  and  Florence.  I  doubt  if 
either,  in  the  day  of  their  greatness,  were  very  comfortable 
places  to  live  in,  but  there  can  be  no  question  that  the 
amount  of  intellectual  vigour  displayed  by  both  at  the 
epoch  of  their  utmost  turbulence,  was  superior  to  anything 
ever  hoard  of  in  history.  The  fierce  rivalries  and  passions 
of  Florence — the  constant  conflicts  of  mind  with  mind, 
tman  with  man,  and  mass  with  mass — the  never-ceasing 
huftian  attrition,  brought  out  intellectual  electricity  enough 
to  make  the  whole  world  vibrate  so  long  that  its  throbs  an^ 
atill  distinctly  felt  and  traceable  to  their  cause — intellectual 

flame  enough  to  light  the  torches  of  civilisation  over  the  earth 
^after  they  had  been  extinguished  in  the  Gothic  deluge — 
[intellectual  names  brilliant  and  numerous  enough  to  people 
[the  whole  firmament  with  immortal  constellations.    We  are 

jroud  of  Boston  as  the  Athens  of  America,  but  we  shall  be 
fprouder  when  she  has  produced,  even  with  Portland  and 
Newburyport  to  back  her,  such  names  as  Dante,  Petrarch, 
Boccaccio,  Cimabue,  Giotto,  Arnolfo,  Brunelleschi,  Leonardo 
[da  Vinci,  Michel  Angelo,  Macchiavelli,  and  Galileo ;  and  I 
ily  mention  names  such  as  rise  spontaneously  like  spirits 
^when   the   magic  name  of  Florence   is  pronounced — names 

which  have   echoed  for  centuries   everywhere  in  the   world 


186  MOTLEY'S  LETTEES.  [Chap.  VI. 

where  the  progress  and  the  triumphs  of  the  human  intellect 
in  the  various  fields  of  the  Arts  and  Sciences  are  looked 
upon  with  sympathy.  Hundreds  of  other  names  might  be 
mentioned,  known  not  only  to  scholars  but  to  the  world  at 
large  ;  and  it  must  be  confessed  that  no  satisfactory  reason  can 
be  given  for  such  splendid  corruscations  of  genius  around  one 
single  spot  but  the  vivifying  presence  of  political  liberty. 

The  period  of  this  liberty  was  a  short  one  and  a  turbulent 
one.  It  was  coincident,  however,  with  the  revival  of  letters  and 
of  civilisation.  It  was  in  Italy  that  the  spirit  of  municipal 
liberty  first  roused  itself,  after  it  had  been  crushed  by  Kome, 
and  buried  under  Eoman  ruins  by  the  brutal,  blundering 
but  juvenile  energies  of  the  German  races.  Five  centuries 
after  the  fall  of  the  Western  Empire — until  nearly  a  thousand 
years  from  the  birth  of  Christ — lasted  the  syncope,  the  coma- 
tose trance  of  Europe,  and  with  her  first  struggles  after 
awaking  from  her  lethargy,  the  little,  now  almost  forgotten 
Eepublics  of  Amalfi  and  Naples  became  visible.  Here  the 
elements  of  Greek,  Roman,  Byzantine,  and  Saracen  civilisa- 
tion are  preserved  and  combined — and  transferred  to  the  more 
vigorous  municipalities  of  Pisa  and  Florence.  A  couple  of 
centuries  of  fighting  between  the  Emperors  of  Germany  and 
the  Popes  of  Home  succeed,  during  which  the  cities  of  Italy 
seek  a  shield  against  imperial  oppression  in  the  assistance  of 
the  Church.  Here  was  the  fatal  flaw  by  which  the  vase  of 
Italian  liberty  was  cracked  when  it  was  first  moulded.  To  go 
for  liberty,  human  progress,  intellectual  development,  and  to 
expect  these  things  by  fighting  under  the  banner  of  the 
Church  was  a  delusion  to  be  sure,  but  it  was  a  fiction  which, 
like  many  other  poetical  fables,  did  good  work.  The  Church 
party,  the  Guelphs,  were  in  reality  a  phalanx  of  intellectual 
opposition  to  imperial  and  brutal  dominion.  Papal  Rome, 
even  while  inventing  the  Inquisition  and  the  mendicant 
orders,  was  the  champion  of  Cities  against  Kaisers  ;  and  this  is 
the  principal  good"  that  the  Church  has  ever  accomplished. 

With  the  downfall  of  the  Suabian  dynasty,  at  the  close 
of  the  thirteenth  century,  Florence,  which  has  long  had  a 
republican  but  aristocratic  organisation,  while  alternatively 


;J85?.]  THE  VICISSITUDES  OF  FLORENCE.  187 

resisting  and  acknowledging  the  sovereignty  of  the  Em- 
perors, is  strong  euongh  to  set  up  for  itself.  Thirty  years 
I  the  noble  families  of  the  place  have  been  at  feud,  fighting 
[like  Kilkenny  cats  till  nothing  is  left  but  their  tails, 
calling  themselves  Guelphs  and  Ghibellines,  but  ranging 
[themselves  on  one  side  or  the  other  solely  according  to  their 
[relationship  to  one  of  two  families  which  had  been  set  by  the 
[ears  in  consequence  of  a  young  gentleman  jilting  a  young 
lady  whom  he  was  to  marry  thirty  or  forty  years  previously. 
[Thirty  years  of  this  kind  of  work  have  weakened  the  pugna- 
cioufi  capabilities  of  these  families,  and  their  result  is  that  the 
tails  as  aforesaid — all  that  is  left  of  this  very  quarrelsome 
species — are  thrown  out  of  the  place  altogether.  It  is  a 
curious  fact  that  not  only  were  the  nobles  deprived  of  poli- 
tical power,  entirely  disfranchised  by  the  Florentine  Kepublic, 
when  at  this  epoch  it  first  "made  the  people,"  as  its  early 
statutes  express  it,  but  it  became  a  mode  of  punishment,  and 
one  often  inflicted,  to  degrade  individuals  and  families  by 
making  them  noble.  In  a  single  year  five  or  six  hundred 
persons  have  been  chastised  for  political  oflfences  by  seeing 
their  names  enrolled  in  the  lists  of  the  nobility;  and  this 
example  was  followed  by  the  municipal  authorities  of  other 
cities  governed  or  controlled  by  Florence. 

No  doubt  this  was  a  stupid  as  well  as  a  virulent  proceed- 
ing. It  kept  an  organised  band  of  powerful,  disaffected,  and 
dangerous  brigands  ever  ready  to  pounce  upon  the  democratic 
city  which  had  provoked  their  hatred  and  their  vengeance, 
while  it  established  in  time  a  second  class  of  nobility,  an 
oflSce-holding  oligarchy  of  mere  vulgar  origin,  without  purer 
motives,  by  which  the  liberty  of  Florence  was  eventually 
overthrown.  The  duration  of  this  liberty  was,  after  all, 
wonderfully  short.  The  democracy  was  established  at  the 
close  of  the  thirteenth  century,  and  at  the  begicning  of  the 
fifteenth  the  Medician  oligarchy  had  succeeded.  By  the 
middle  of  the  sixteenth  the  Medici  were  made  into  Grand 
Dukes  of  Tuscany,  and  there  is  an  end  of  Florence.  That 
family  died  out  before  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth  century ; 
and  as  there  happened  to  be  a  poor  king  going  about  at  that 


188  MOTLEY'S  LETTEKS.  [Chap.  VI. 

time  without  a  crown  to  his  back — one  Stanislaus  Lecszinski, 
whose  daughter  had  married  the  respectable  Louis  XV.  of 
France — it  was  thought  desirable  to  make  him  Duke  of 
Lorraine.  There  being,  however,  a  Duke  of  Lorraine,  who 
objected  to  being  unduked,  he  was  pitchforked  into  Florence, 
much  to  his  disgust,  and  was  very  much  astonished  afterwards 
to  find  that  the  degrading  stej)  had  ended  in  making  him 
Emperor  of  Germany.  Francis  of  Lorraine,  Duke  of  Tuscany, 
married  with  the  Empress  Maria  Theresa,  and  saw  himself  and 
family  established  on  the  throne  of  the  Caesars.  Thus  Tuscany 
is  a  sort  of  appanage  for  the  younger  sons  of  the  Hapsburg 
family.  One  reigning  Grand  Duke  has  already  succeeded  to 
the  imperial  throne,  and  transferred  the  duchy  to  a  younger 
son ;  and  the  present  Grand  Duke,  who  has  reigned  for  many 
years,  was  naturally  set  up  in  business  again,  after  the  general 
smash  in  1848,  by  his  powerful  relations  at  Vienna. 

Florence  is,  however,  freed  at  present  from  the  Austrian  occu- 
pation, and  things  seem  to  go  on  peaceably.  Provided  a  man 
does  not  talk  politics  or  read  the  Bible,  he  gets  on  well  enough. 
This  would  be  somewhat  of  a  deduction  from  the  daily  habits 
of  New  Englanders,  but  the  Tuscans  have  been  so  long  having 
their  skins  taken  off  that  they  like  it.  Of  the  present  aspect 
of  the  place,  therefore,  in  a  political  point  of  view,  I  shall  not 
discourse.  Florence  is  a  dead  city — a  splendid  tortoise  shell, 
from  which  the  living  animal  has  long  since  disappeared. 
The  shell  will,  however,  be  long  an  object  of  wonder.  There 
is  no  town  in  the  world  of  its  size  which  contains  such  a 
•profusion  of  works  of  art.  There  are  three  large  galleries  of 
pictures.  All  of  them  together  would,  perhaps,  be  equal  to 
the  gallery  at  Dresden,  which  singly,  however,  surpasses  any 
one  of  them.  The  best  gallery,  that  of  the  Pitti  Palace,  is 
exactly  opposite  our  doors,  so  that  it  is  easy  for  us  to  look  at 
the  finest  pi'itures  in  the  world  from  9  a.m.  to  3  p.m.,  quite 
enough  to  satisfy  any  reasonable  person.  I  shall  not  begin 
to  you  about  pictures,  however,  because  nothing  could  be 
more  jejune  than  any  description  of  masterpieces  which  I 
eould  send.  A  catalogue  is  an  extremely  convenient  thing 
to  have  in  one's  pocket  when  in  a  gallery,  but  the  dullest  of 


1855.]  PRESENT  CONDITION  OP  FLORENCE.  189 

literary  performances  would  be  a  running  commentary  from 
nio  to  you  about  pictures  which  you  never  saw,  and  never 
intend  to  see.  At  the  same  time  I  feel  sure  that  if  you  were 
here  you  would  enjoy  them  as  much  as  I  do.  Hillard  has 
written  the  best  book  upon  Italy  which  I  have  ever  read. 
The  charms  of  stylo  and  of  word-painting  can  go  no  further, 
and  his  pages  have  the  effect  of  finely  coloured  photographs 
of  the  scenes  he  has  visited.  It  is  so  difficult  to  fix  the 
fleeting  impression  produced  in  one's  mental  camera  obscura 
by  an  object  seen  but  for  a  moment,  that  I  quite  wonder  at 
his  success.  I  have  saved  reading  the  book  till  on  the  spot, 
and  am  glad  of  having  done  so.  At  the  same  time  it  indis- 
poses me  to  send  home  Italian  descriptions.  Nothing  can  be 
more  scholarly  and  elegant  than  the  whole  expression  of  his 
book ;  and,  although  I  should  occasionally  dissent  from  some 
of  his  criticisms  upon  the  old  masters,  yet  I  admire  it  on  the 
whole  very  much.  I  shall  say  no  more,  because,  as  I  have 
already  had  the  pleasure  of  receiving  a  kind  word  of  approval 
from  him  in  a  postscript  to  the  governor's  kind  letter,  you 
will  think  I  am  trying  to  get  into  the  Mutual  Admiration 
Society. 

Perhaps  you  would  like  to  know  a  little  of  prices,  if  I  have 
not  already  bored  you  sufficiently  by  my  historical  and 
political  disquisitions.  Before  you  condemn  me,  however, 
for  lengthiness  on  those  topics,  think  what  you  have  escaped. 
Florence,  according  to  one  of  its  oldest  chroniclers,  was  built 
by  the  great-grandson  of  Noah,  who  came  to  Tuscany  "to 
escape  the  confusion  growing  out  of  the  Tower  of  Babel.'* 
That  being  the  case,  it  has  probably  growTi  up,  little  by  little, 
to  its  present  size,  just  as  Calais  did,  according  to  the  theory 
of  Tristram  Shandy;  and  I  might  have  given  you  a  much 
larger  dose  of  history  if  I  had  taken  up  matters  at  the  fountain 
head,  that  is,  at  the  Deluge. 

A  good  house,  or  lodging  as  large  as  a  house,  without  furni- 
ture, and  on  a  lease  of  two  or  three  years,  could  be  had  for 
$300  a  year.  Beef  and  bread,  the  two  staves  of  life,  are 
10  and  5  cents  a  pound  respectively.  A  respectable  turkey, 
such  as  would  not  be  ashamed  to  see   himself  roasted  on 


190  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  VL 

Tlianksgiving  Day  in  Portland,  costs  50  cents.  A  pair  of 
fowls,  30  to  40  cents.  A  cauliflower,  as  big  as  your  head, 
3  cents.  Celery,  and  such  things,  pretty  much  nothing  at  all. 
Groceries,  however,  are  comparatiA^ely  dear.  Tea,  coffee,  and 
other  colonials,  as  they  call  them,  rather  dearer  than  with  us. 
Cotton  is  dearer ;  ladies'  apparel  dearer ;  men's  clothing  much 
cheaper.  Lessons  of  all  kinds  (except  first-rate  musical 
instruction,  which  is  $1  a  lesson)  average  about  30  cents  an 
hour,  whether  for  one  or  half  a  dozen  pupils.  You  see  that 
for  a  resident  Florence  is,  as  compared  to  Boston,  fabulously 
cheap.  A  passing  stranger  gets  no  great  advantage,  however. 
I  hope  to  be  able  to  write  you  again  very  soon,  if  you  have 
not  had  enough  of  this.  Meantime  Mary  and  the  children 
desire  to  be  most  affectionately  remembered  to  you. 

Believe  me,  yours  affectionately, 

J.  L.  M. 


To  his  Mother-. 

Florence, 
April  l8t,  1856. 

My  deaeest  Mothee, — We  decided  to  pass  the  winter  in 
Florence,  principally  because  the  children  would  have  the 
benefits  of  instruction  at  a  cheaper  rate.  We  shall  probably 
go  from  Home  to  Naples  early  in  May,  and  return  by  steamer 
either  to  Genoa,  and  thence  over  the  Simplon,  or  direct  to 
Marseilles,  a  voyage  which  I  dread,  and  hope  not  to  make, 
v^  Our  plans,  however,  are  somewhat  foggy.  I  have  heard  nothing 
"^om  Chapman  touching  the  sale  of  my  book,  and  suppose  that 
very  few  copies  have  been  sold.^  It  has  been  very  favourably 
received  in  the  Athenaeum,  the  Press,  and  some  other  papers, 
and  Mr.  Fxoude's  article  in  the  Westminster  Beview  for  April 
is  uncomnionly  well  written  and  extremely  flattering.  I 
have  heard  of  nothing  more,  and  if  the  edition  is  eventually 
sold,  it  must  be  a  long  time  first.  It  takes  a  good  time  to 
read  such  a  lo^ng  work.     We  parted  with  Frank  Boott  and 

*  Seventeen  thousaiad  copies  were  sold  in  England  during  the  first  year  of 
publication.  > 


ISM]     RECEPTION  OP  TUE  'DUTCH  REPUBLIC      191 

L with  great  regret.    We  have  seen  them  constantly 

siueo  our  arrival  here,  and  liave  passed  much  time  very 
agreeably  together.  He  has  the  same  excellent  and  sterling 
qualities  and  truthful  character  which  he  always  had,  and  she 
is  a  very  interesting  and  intelligent  child. 

Your  affectionate  son, 

J.  L.  M. 


From  Mr.  W.  H.  Prescott. 

Boston, 
April  28th,  1856. 

My  dear  Motley, — I  am  much  obliged  to  you  for  the  copy 
of  the  *  History  of  the  Dutch  Kepublic '  Avhich  you  have  been 
so  kind  as  to  send  me.  A  work  of  that  kind  is  not  to  be  run 
through  in  a  few  days,  particularly  by  one  who  does  his  read- 
ing chiefly  through  his  ears.  I  shall  take  my  own  time  there- 
fore for  going  thoroughly  through  the  book,  which  I  certainly 
shall  do  from  beginning  to  end,  notes  inclusive.  Meantime  I 
have  yielded  to  my  impatience  of  seeing  what  sort  of  stuff  it 
is  made  of  by  pitching  here  and  there  into  various  places, 
particularly  those  with  which  I  am  most  familiar  myself  and 
which  would  be  most  likely  to  try  your  power  as  a  writer. 
The  result  of  a  considerable  amount  of  reading  in  this  way 
has  satisfied  me  that  you  have  more  than  fulfilled  the  pre- 
diction which  I  had  made  respecting  your  labours  to  the 
public.  Everywhere  you  seem  to  have  gone  into  the  subject 
with  a  scholar-like  thoroughness  of  research,  furnishing  me 
on  my  own  beaten  track  with  a  quantity  of  new  facts  and 
views,  which  I  was  not  aware  it  could  present  to  the  reader. 
In  one  passage  I  remember,  the  sack  of  St.  Quentin,  you  give 
a  variety  of  startling  and  very  interesting  particulars,  and 
when  I  envied  you  the  resources  at  your  Command  for 
supplying  them  to  you,  I  found  they  were  all  got  from  a 
number  of  the  *  Documentos  Ineditos '  which  slept  harmlessly 
on  my  shelves  from  my  own  unconsciousness  that  it  contained 
anything  germain  to  the  matter.  Your  descriptions  are  everj'- 
where    graphic    and    picturesque.      One   familiar  with    your 


192  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Ciiai-.  VI. 

romances,  will  not  be  surprised  at  your  powers  in  this  way. 
But  yet  after  all  tHe  style  for  history  is  as  different  from  wha.t 
is  required  for  romance  as  that  of  a  great  historical  picture  is 
from  a  scene-painting  for  a  theatre.  You  prove  that  you 
possess  both.  Your  portraiture  of  character  is  vigorous  and 
animated,  full  of  characteristic  touches,  from  a  pencil  that  is. 
dipped  in  the  colours  of  the  old  masters. 

You  have  laid  it  on  Philip  rather  hard.  Indeed  you  have 
whittled  him  down  to  such  an  imperceptible  point  that  there 
is  hardly  enough  of  him  left  to  hang  a  newspaper  paragraph 
on,  much  less  five  or  six  volumes  of  solid  history  as  I  propose 
to  do.  But  then  you  make  it  up  with  your  own  hero,  William 
of  Orange,  and  I  comfort  myself  with  the  reflection  that  you 
are  looking  through  a  pair  of  Dutch  sj)ectacles  after  all.  As- 
to  the  backbone  of  the  work,  the  unfolding  of  the  great 
revolution,  I  am  not  in  a  condition  to  criticise  that,  as  no  one 
can  be  who  has  not  read  the  work  carefully  thi'ough.  But  I 
have  conversed  with  several,  not  merely  your  personal  friends,, 
who  have  done  so,  and  they  bear  emphatic  testimony  to  the 
power  you  have  exhibited,  in  presenting  the  subject  in  an 
original  and  piquant  way  to  the  reader.  Indeed  you  have  seen 
enough  of  criticism  probably  from  the  presses  of  this  country 
and  of  England,  to  satisfy  you  that  the  book  has  made  a 
strong  impression  upon  the  public  mind  and  that  it  must  be 
entirely  successful.  There  is  one  little  matter  which  I  have 
heard  quarrelled  with,  and  which  I  must  say  I  think  is  a 
mistake,  but  which  relates  to  the  form  not  to  thefonds  of  the 
work — that  is  the  headings  of  the  chapters,  and  the  running- 
titles  of  the  pages.  They  are  so  contrived  as  to  show  the 
author's  wit,  but  nothing  of  the  contents  of  the  book,  and  have 
the  disadvantage  of  giving  a  romantic  air  which  is  out  of 
place  in^istory.  But  this  sort  of  criticism  you  may  very  well 
think  is  4ke  praising  one  for  his  intellectual,  his  moral,  and 
all  that,  and  then  taking  exception  to  the  cut  of  his  waistcoat. 
You  have  good  reason  to  be  pleased  with  the  reception  the 
book  has  hacl  from  the  English  press,  considering  that  you 
had  no  one  particularly  to  stand  godfather  to  your  bantling, 
but  that  it  tuml?led  into  the  world  almost  without  the  aid  of 


1856.]  ENGLISH  CRITICS.  198 

u  midwife.     Under  these  circumstances  success  is  a  great 
triumph.  .  .  . 

With  my  kindest  regards  to  your  wife,  believe  me,  dear 
JMotley, 

Very  sincerely  yours, 

Wm.  H.  Prescott. 


To  his  Father, 

Borne,  . 
May  13th,  I85& 

My  dear  Father, — I  perceive  that  the  Harpers  have  pub- 
lished the  *  Dutch  Kepublic  '  at  last.  No  doubt  they  are  the 
correct  judges  of  the  correct  time  ;  but  I  must  say  that  I  should 
have  liked  to  have  had  it  published  in  time  to  allow  a  review 
in  the  April  number  of  the  North  American.  You  say  nothing 
of  this  in  your  letter.  Have  you  observed  in  one  of  Mary's 
letters  a  request  to  send  a  copy  to  Sam  Hooper  and  to  E.  P. 
Whipple  ?  The  latter  is  one  of  the  most  brilliant  writers  in 
the  country,  as  well  as  one  of  the  most  experienced  reviewers. 

II  am  glad  you  received  the  Press.  Some  of  the  papers  have 
teen  decidedly  disagreeable ;  a  weekly,  called  the  Saturday 
Meinew,  and  the  Literary  Gazette,  for  example.  The  Examiner, 
too,  is  very  censorious  as  well  as  patronising.  The  warmest 
article  is  in  a  weekly  called  the  Nonconformist,  date  April  30th, 
and  if  Chapman  has  not  sent  it  to  you  or  to  Harper,  I  wish 
you  would  send  for  it,  as  it  would  be  desirable  to  have  it  repub- 
lished. I  don't  know  who  the  editor  of  the  paper  is,  nor  the 
author  of  the  article.  The  Forbes  also  sent  me  a  very  flat- 
tering notice  of  the  book  from  the  Edinburgh  paper,  The 
Scotsman.  On  the  whole,  it  has  been  treated  as  well  as  an 
unknown  production  could  expect  in  England,  where  success 
belongs  to  those  only  who  have  already  succeeded.  I  have  heard 
nothing  from  Chapman  since  the  book  was  published,  but  I 
feel  sure  from  the  silence  that  very  few  copies  have  been  sold. 
I  shall  be  surprised  if  a  hundred  copies  are  sold  at  the  end  of  a 
year.  I  directed  that  a  copy  should  be  sent  to  Mr.  Bates  with 
VOL.  I.  o 


194  MOTLEY'S  LETTEES.  [Ciur.  VI, 

your  regards.  I  suppose  you  have  retained  the  list  of  persons 
to  whom  I  wished  copies  sent.  One  person  in  particular  I  beg 
may  receive  one,  if  he  has  not  already  done  so,  Thomas  G. 
Bradford.  Have  the  kindness  when  you  next  write  to  look 
over  this  letter,  and  answer  these  various  matters  propounded. 
I  repeat  that  the  greatest  satisfaction  which  I  have  derived 
from  the  writing  of  the  History  is  the  pleasure  and  occupation 
which  it  has  given  you,  and  were  it  not  such  a  very  expensive 
matter  to  both  our  pockets,  I  should  like  nothing  better  than 
to  write  another  immediately ;  but  I  think  it  safer  to  pause 
upon  the  road  to  ruin. 

I  remain,  yours  affectionately, 

J.  L.  M. 

P.S. — I  am  glad  you  sent  a  copy  to  Mr.  Deblois.  My 
regards  to  him  as  well  as  to  his  "guide,  philosopher,  and 
friend,"  the  sage  of  Fort  Hill. 


To  his  Father. 

Castellamare,  near  Naples, 
June  6th,  I85G. 

My  dear  Father, — I  repeat  what  I  have  more  than  once 
said  already,  that  the  principal  pleasure  I  have  received  in 
publishing  my  History  is  the  great  satisfaction  which  you  and 
my  dear  mother  have  derived  from  it,  and  the  warm  expressions 
of  sympathy  which  I  have  met  with  from  my  friends.  I  always 
knew  that  Mr.  Cabot  and  William  Amory  were  my  friends, 
but  I  confess  that  I  had  not  expected  even  from  them  such 
enthusiastic  approbation,  the  echo  of  which  from  beyond  the 
Atlantic  has  touched  Mary  and  me  most  deeply.  I  shall  be 
most  grateful  to  them  as  long  as  I  live.  I  was,  of  course,  much 
pleased  with  Tom's  last  letter  containing  a  copy  of  that  article 
from  B.arper's.  I  ascribe  the  necessity  of  printing  the  second 
edition  to  Cabot's  and  Amory 's  tremendous  cornering  opera- 
tions in  the  first.  1  have  received  Mr.  Prescott's  very  kind  and 
hearty  letter,  and  will  answer  it  at  my  first  moment  of  leisure. 
Mr.  Ticknor's  I  cannot  answei  because  he  is  already  in  Europe. 
Please  to  thank  Hillard  most  warmly  for  his  article  in  the 


185G.]        KECErTION  OF  THE  *  lUSTORY  '  IN  AMERICA.         195 

Courier.  I  could  not  bo  otherwise  than  extremely  grateful  to 
bo  made  the  subject  of  such  very  high  and  elegantly  expressed 
commendation,  although  I  feel  at  the  same  time  that  I  am  far 
from  deserving  such  praise.  Will  you  take  an  opportunity 
to  present  my  compliments  to  the  editors  of  the  Boston  Post, 
and  thank  them  sincerely  for  the  handsome  and  very  flattering 
friendly  manner  in  which  they  have  noticed  my  labours  ?  I 
feel  very  sensibly  any  commendation  coming  from  my  native 
place  now  that  I  have  been  so  long  resident  in  foreign  lands. 
Don't  forget,  too,  to  give  my  regards  to  Epes  Sargent,  and  to 
thank  him  for  the  warm  and  friendly  interest  which  according 
to  the  extracts  sent  me  he  has  manifested  so  constantly  in 
the  work. 

By  the  way,  will  you  tell  me  what  arrangement  has  been 
made  about  the  North  American  Review?  I  suppose,  as  a 
matter  of  course,  that  Hillard  has  not  written  two  reviews  of 
the  book ;  but  I  should  be  very  sorry  to  lose  a  regular  article 
in  the  North  American  Review,  to  which  I  think  the  book  is 
fairly  entitled,  and  it  would  be  a  pity  to  leave  it  to  the  chance 
mercy  of  the  editor  whom  I  don't  know  and  who  may  be 
unfriendly.  I  read  the  article  in  the  Tribune,  and  was  satisfied 
with  it.  It  is  curious  that  everybody  who  has  censured  me 
severely  either  in  England  or  America  has  attacked  the 
headings  of  the  chapters,  and  it  would  be  amusing  if  my 
letters  to  Chapman  could  be  found  and  printed,  to  see  how 
vigorously  I  remonstrated  against,  and  how  reluctantly  I 
consented  to  making  these  kind  of  titles,  thinking  the 
summary  at  the  head  of  each  chapter  quite  sufficient.  If  I 
had  the  opportunity,  which  I  have  not  at  present,  of  making 
alterations,  perhaps  I  should  do  so  on  this  point,  although 
it  looks  rather  sneaking  to  back  out  in  consequence  of 
criticisms. 

We  made  a  very  pleasant  excursion  to  Sorrento  yesterday. 
An  old  friend  of  mine.  Baron  Canitz,  who  is  Prussian  Minister 
here,  and  whom  I  knew  twenty  years  ago  in  Germany,  has 
been  extremely  cordial.  He  came  down  here  with  his  Secretary 
of  Legation  yesterday,  and  we  all  went  together.  He  invited 
me  to  dine  to-day  with  him  with  the  Prince  of  Saxe  Meinin- 

o  2 


196  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  VL 

gen,  and  a  dozen  bigwigs  of  the  corps  diplomatique,  but  the 
weather  is  too  warm  for  such  efforts  on  my  part,  and  I  insisted 
on  declining.  I  shall  write  as  soon  as  we  have  crossed  the 
Simplon,  and  Mary  will  probably  write  next  week  from 
Genoa.  Meantime,  with  the  best  love  of  all  of  us  to  my  dear 
mother  and  yourself,  and  with  kindest  remembrances  to  every 
member  of  the  family,  never  forgetting  Uncle  Edward,  of 
whose  health  I  wish  you  would  give  me  a  little  better  account, 

I  remain 

Most  affectionately  your  son, 

J.  L.  M. 


From  Mr.  Theodore  Fay. 

United  States  Legation,  Berne, 
June  18th,  1856. 

My  dear  Motley, — I  am  afraid  to  tell  you  what  I  think  of 
your  History  !  It  is  one  of  the  finest  I  ever  read.  You  need 
be  under  no  apprehension.  It  is  destined  to  immortality.  It 
is  a  noble  painting  largely  done,  the  delineations  of  character 
not  only  by  a  master  hand  but  from  a  heart  that  sees  right 
through  the  souls  of  men  and  means  to  speak  the  truth.  I 
do  not  know  that  there  could  be  found  a  period  of  grander 
interest,  or  a  historian  more  able  to  represent  it  with  all  the 
force  of  truth.  The  drama  is  opened  and  conducted  with 
superior  power.  The  figures  rise  upon  the  mind  in  fearfully 
vivid  colours  but  without  exaggeration.  There  is  a  rare 
union  of  simplicity  and  strength,  of  poetry  and  truth.  The 
style  is  limpid,  forcible,  unaffected,  and  eloquent.  Many  of 
the  descriptions  eminently  beautiful,  as,  for  instance,  that  of 
the  cathedrals.  Tlie  author  has  received  from  nature  a  high 
historic  power,  and  ^he  marks  of  conscientious  study  and 
reflection  are  felt  in  all  the  details.  No  library  will  be  com- 
plete without  your  worl^.  I  congratulate  you  upon  what  must 
prove  a  complete  success,  and  I  only  hope  all  men  may  read, 
mark,  learn,  and  inwardly  digest  the  meaning  of  such  a 
character  as  Philip  Egmont,  and  the  grand  and  noble  William 
of  Orange.  For  my  part  I  shall  consider  forwarding  your 
manuscript  as  one  of  the  honourable  distinctions  of  my  life.   It 


1857]  OLIVER  WENDELL  HOLMES.  197 

was  a  higher  act  than  you  supposed,  for  I  did  not  suspect  how 
proud  I  should  be  of  it.  We  are  well.  My  daughter,  who  is 
my  reader,  as  my  beloved  wife  would  have  been,  owes  her  first 
ideas  of  history  to  your  pen,  and  joins  in  all  my  praise  and 
kind  regards  to  you  and  yours. 

As  ever  your  friend, 

Theo.  S.  Fay. 

From  Br.  0.  W.  Holmes. 

September  23rd,  1856.» 

My  dear  Motley, — I  welcome  you  and  all  yours  back  to 
your  country  and  your  friends,  among  whom  I  know  you  count 
me  as  not  the  newest  or  the  least  attached.  I  should  have 
been  to  see  you  before  this,  but  for  reasons  of  little  conse- 
quence in  themselves,  but  just  enough  to  keep  me  at  home  for 
some  days,  and  perhaps  for  the  rest  of  this  week.  There  are 
many  things  I  should  love  to  talk  over  with  you,  but  chiefly 
your  own  labours  and  experiences  in  the  pursuit  of  your  noble 
object,  the  fruit  of  which  it  is  not  too  much  to  say  is  spoken 
of  everywhere  among  us  with  admiration  rather  than  common 
praise.  Your  wife  and  children,  too — have  I  not  known  one 
from  girlhood,  and  the  others  from  infancy,  and  shall  I  not 
have  a  prattle  with  them  as  soon  as  may  be  ? 

So  you  expect  my  bodily  presence  shortly  for  an  hour's  talk 
— this  week  if  I  can,  but  next  week  whether  I  can  or  cannot. 
Until  then,  and  always  thenceforth. 

Believe  me,  truthfully  yours, 

O.  W.  Holmes. 

From  the  same  old  habitat,  8,  Montgomery  Place,  Septem- 
ber 23rd. 


From  0.  W.  Holmes. 


8,  Montgomery  Place, 

January  9th,  1857. 

My  dear  Motley, — I  promised  you  a  glass  of  wine  one 
day,  and  you  must  let  me  redeem  my  promise  by  sending  you 

*  Mr.  Motley  passed  the  winter  of  1856-7  in  Boston. 


198  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  VL 

these  half  a  dozen  bottles.  They  are  marked  in  Judge  Jack- 
son's catalogue  "  Essex  Madeira,  bought  and  imported  through 
Mr.  Isaac  P.  Davis  in  1818,"  and  have  been  commonly  called 
"  Essex  Junior."  Mr.  Parker  (of  P.  &  Codman)  says  the 
wine  is  well  thought  of,  and  I  remember  Mr.  Isaac  P. 
wanted  to  purchase  all  the  Judge  had  in  his  cellar  at  one  time. 
But  good  or  bad,  there  is  a  bouquet  of  old  friendship  under 
every  cork,  and  to  borrow  the  words  of  a  poet  of  the  nine- 
teenth century,  an  admirer  of  your  genius,  and  a  near  relation 
in  the  ascending  line  of  the  youth  who  brings  you  the  friendly 
tribute  (or  would  have  brought  it  if  not  too  heavy) — 

"  It  is  not  the  sunset  that  glows  in  the  wine, 
But  the  smile  that  beams  over  it  makes  it  divine." 

Don't  answer  this  note,  but  nod  your  acknowledgments  over 
the  next  glass  of  wine  we  drink  together. 

Yours  faithfully, 

0.  W.  Holmes. 

P.S. — Washington  Irving^  says  "reliable,"  and  Worcester 
credits  the  word  to  Sir  Eobert  Peel. 


From  Mr.  C.  C.  Felton. 

Cambridge, 
April  nth,  1857. 

My  dear  Motley, — Some  days  ago  I  received  a  copy  of 
your  'Dutch  Eepublic,'  which  you  have  the  great  kindness 
to  send  me.  I  assure  you  there  are  few  things  which  could 
have  given  me  so  much  gratification.  Instead  of  acknow- 
ledging yotir  kindness  immediately  I  sat  down  to  read  the 
book,  and  have  occupied  myself  with  it  all  my  leisure  moments 
since.  Fast-day  was  thus  converted  into  a  most  delightful 
feast-day,  and  I  am  still  under  the  magician's  spell.  It  so 
happens  that  I  have  before  only  had  time  to  read  here  and 
there  a  chapter — enough  to  form  an  idea  of  its  characteristic 
merits.     I  had  intended  to  take  it  up  in  the  summer  vaca- 

»  « Life  of  Washington,'  ii.,  240. 


1S37.1 


FRIENDLY  CRITICS. 


199 


'tiou  and  study  it  carefully;  but,  having  it  on  my  table,  I 
I  cannot  resist  the  temptation  nor  postpone  the  gratification 
[£0  long. 

I  congratulate  you  very  sincerely  on  your  good  fortune  in 
^having  added  a  permanent  and  precious  contribution  to  the 

listorical  literature  of  our  age.  I  consider  him  the  happiest 
[of  mankind  who,  having  a  taste  for  letters  and  the  genius  re- 

[uisite  to  accomplish  great  work,  is  so  favoured  by  his  outward 

fortunes  that  he  can  follow  his  tastes  and  give  free  scope  to 
[his  genius.  This  happiness  you  have,  and  you  have  shown 
[yourself  to  be  worthy  of  it  by  the  great  achievement  you  have 
[accomplished  with  the  freshness  of  glowing  and  vigorous  early 
I  manhood  still  upon  your  spirit. 

May  your  future  career  in  letters  correspond  to  the  auspices 

)f  the  present,  and  may  I  live  to  refresh  my  mind,  wearied 
[with  daily  labours,  by  many  a  brilliant  page  of  picturesque 
[eloquence,  sustained  by  love  of  truth  and  ethical  justice,  fear- 
jlessly  and  forcibly  expressed,  from  you. 

Ever,  my  dear  Motley,  your  obliged  friend, 

C.  C.  Felton. 


To  Br.  0.  W.  Holmes. 

18,  Boylaton  Place, 

May  3rd,  1857. 

Mt  dear  Holmes, — I  do  not  believe  that  my  afifection  for 

JOM  has  led  me  astray  while  endeavouring  to  form  an  im- 

mrtial  judgment  upon  your  poem.     I  have  read  it  a  great 

lany  times,  and  I  have  admired  it  more  at  each  successive 

reading.      Each  of  the  episodes  has  freshness,  strength  and 

[beauty,  and   the  whole  fabric   is  simple  and  noble.     What 

[gives  me  particular  pleasure  is,  that  the  more  lofty  the  strain, 

Ithe  better  and  grander  becomes  the  poetry.     Th©  episode  of 

the  young  Koman  is  handled  with  much  classic  elegance,  as 

rell  as  with  great  tenderness  and  truth.     The  best  portion, 

[however,  is  that  which  embodies  the  mother's  secret.     The 

[pictures  are  finished  with  an  artistic  delicacy  of  touch,  and  a 

[piety  of  feeling,  which  remind  me  of  the  Florentine  painters 


200  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  VI. 

of  the  fourteenth  and  fifteenth  centuries.  The  Webster- 
photograph  is  bold,  shadowy  and  imposing,  but  would  pro- 
bably elicit  more  hearty  applause  from  a  public  audience  than 
from  some  of  us  who  have  perhaps  pondered  too  much  the 
unheroic  and  the  unpoetical  elements  which  constituted  so 
much  of  that  golden-headed  and  clay-footed  image. 

The  same  remark  I  should  be  inclined  to  make  upon  the 
fraudulent  banker.    You  have  painted  a  very  vigorous  picture,, 
but  there  is  something  in  the  details  which  are  too  inhar- 
monious with  the  ideal.     I  suppose  that  you  will  not  agree 
with  me,  and  very  likely  it  is  some  narrowness  on  my  part, 
or  over  squeamishness,  but  the  particulars  of  a  modern  dinner- 
party will  refuse  to  make  poetry  to  my  imagination.     The 
more  lifelike  they  are  (and  nothing  can  be  more  vivid  than 
your  sketch),  the  more  does  my  mind  rebel  at  them.     At  the 
same  time,  I  beg  you  to  believe  that  I  feel  as  warmly  as  any- 
one can  do  the  genial  glow  of  the  atmosphere,  and  the  genuine 
ring  of  the  verse,  even  in  the  passages  which  I  put  below  the- 
other  parts  of  the  poem  in  comparison.     Indeed,  the  descrip- 
tion of  the  ruined  home  on  Apple  Island  is  almost  the  best 
thing  in  the  poem.     I  have  taken  the  liberty  to  say  exactly 
what  I  think,  because,  although  you   may  not    accept    my 
criticisms,  I  am  sure  you  will  accept  the  spirit  in  which  they 
are  written.     If  I  thought  that  you  had  said  your  dernier  onot,. 
and  that  you  were  not  likely  in  future  to  excel  yourself,  I  should 
then,  as  one  of  your  warmest  admirers,  as  well  as  one  of  your 
oldest  friends,  have  poured  out  for  you,  what  Miss  Edgworth 
says  will  alone   satisfy   an  author,  "large   draughts  of  un- 
qualified praise."     I  could  have  done  that,  too,  with  a  clear 
conscience.     But  as  I  believe  you  to  have  it  in  you  to  write  a 
great  poem,  and  as  I  consider  everything  which  you  have- 
hitherto  written  only  as  stray  nuggets,  golden  pledges  of  the 
unfathomed  and  unsunned  ore  below,  I  am  the  more  inclined 
to  be  critical. 

As  I  said  before,  the  loftiest  passages  in  this,  as  in  your- 
other  poems,  are  much  the  best.  One  of  your  tendencies, 
not  a  bad  one  if  properly  understood  by  you,  is  to  rise 
above  your  subject.     Therefore,  if  you  will  select  a  grand,. 


1857.]  MR.  BANCROFT.  201 

earnest,  heroic  theme,  and  put  your  whole  soul  and  strength 
into  it,  I  believe  that  you  can  accomplish  what  has  not  yet 
been  done  in  this  country.  You  have  strength  of  mind 
enough  to  rise  to  the  highest  imaginative  regions,  and  to 
sustiiin  a  long  and  measured  flight  therein.  You  have  at 
your  absolute  command  the  difiicult  but  noble  measure  which 
will  always  ring  in  our  ears  with  the  true  heroic  clang  until 
Dryden  and  Pope  are  forgotten.  But  you  cannot  do  what  I 
wish  you  to  do  except  upon  two  conditions :  one,  devotion  of 
your  faculties  and  of  your  time  to  the  one  great  object ;  the 
other,  cotton- wooling  your  ears  absolutely  to  all  hand-clapping 
and  greasy  mob  applause  of  mercantile  lecture-rooms.  Discard 
from  your  verse  every  word  and  every  thought  that  has  not 
the  ring  of  the  pure  metal.  To  the  morally  pure  and  noble 
there  is  no  need  of  my  exhorting  you.  To  that  you  are  always 
instinctively  and  unerringly  true.  To  the  intellectually 
beautiful  and  sublime  you  are  equally  loyal.  I  have  marked 
with  parallel  lines  (as  Channing  used  to  do  our  themes)  the 
passages  which  please  me  most.  You  will  see  that  I  have 
marked  a  very  large  part  of  the  poem.  I  have  also  ventured 
several  criticisms,  generally  verbal  ones,  on  the  margin.  Do 
not  be  vexed  w  ith  me  if  you  think  them  stupid,  and  reject  or 
accept  just  as  many  of  them  as  you  think  proper.  Meantime, 
I  remain,  as  ever. 

Sincerely  your  friend, 

J.  L.  M. 


From  Mr.  George  Bancroft. 


Newport,  R.I., 

July  lith,  1857. 

My  dear  Motley, — You  can  make  me  but  one  compensa- 
tion for  having  missed  your  visit  in  New  York.  Come  down 
and  pass  a  day,  or  two  days,  or  three  or  more  as  your  time  may 
warrant.  Come  next  Friday  in  the  morning  train  and  boat ; 
you  will  be  here  at  eleven.     On  Thursday  I  may  possibly  run 


202  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  VI. 

up  to  hear  Mr.  Everett,  though  I  doubt.     Next  week  I  may- 
go  to  New  York  to  work,  for  work  here  is  impossible. 

Yours  of  the  9th  I  received  yesterday  morning.  I  shall 
value  very  highly,  I  assure  you,  the  copy  of  your  History  from 
its  author.  You  send  it  at  least  to  a  house  where  it  is  valued. 
Mrs,  Bancroft  has  read  every  word  of  Harper's  three  volumes, 
and  was  among  the  earliest  to  take  her  place  as  one  who  does 
full  justice  to  the  work ;  and,  of  course,  my  self  love  is  pleased 
with  this,  for  you  may  suppose  I  have  trained  her  to  good 
judgment  on  such  matters.  Indeed  there  is  but  one  opinion 
on  what  you  have  achieved.  My  friend  Eipley,  whose  judg- 
ment in  this  case  was  unbiassed  by  personal  friendship  or 
acquaintance,  and  whose  judgment  under  such  circumstances 
I  think  the  best  of  any  one  in  New  York,  has  always  in  private 
conversation  and  in  public  given  you  the  tribute  you  deserve, 
and  I  believe  thinks  in  his  heart  that  you  have  excelled 
us  all. 

But  come  on  Friday  in  the  morning  train  and  stay  as  long 
as  you  can,  and  we  will  talk  of  all  sorts  of  things  before  you 
put  an  ocean  between  us. 

Ever  yours, 

Geo.  Bancroft. 


From  Mr.  Washington  Irving. 

Sunnyside, 
July  nth,  1857. 

My  dear  Sir, — Mr.  Cogswell  apprises  me  of  his  having 
received  at  the  Astor  Library  a  copy  of  your  work  which  you 
have  done  me  the  honour  to  send  to  his  care  for  me. 

A  short  time  since  on  reading  the  first  volume  of  your 
History  I  was  so  much  struck  by  its  merit  that  I  was  on  the 
point  of  writing  to  you  to  express  my  admiration  of  this  great 
literary  achievement  and  my  delight  at  such  a  noble  accession 
to  our  national  literature  ;  but  I  checked  the  impulse,  lest  it 
should  be  deemed  an  intrusive  assumption  on  my  part.  You 
may  judge  therefore  how  sincerely  and  deeply  I  appreciate  the 
proof  you  give  me  of  your  favourable  consideration.    I  am  now 


1857]  WASHINGTON  IRVING.  203 

on  the  third  volume  of  your  History,  reading  it  with  unflagging 
interest  and  increasing  deference  for  its  author.  The  minute 
and  unwearied  research,  the  scrupulous  fidelity  and  impartial 
justice  with  which  you  execute  your  task,  prove  to  me  that 
you  are  properly  sensible  of  the  high  calling  of  the  American 
press — that  rising  tribunal  before  which  the  whole  world  is  to 
be  summoned,  its  history  to  be  revised  and  rewritten,  and  the 
judgment  of  past  ages  to  be  cancelled  or  confirmed.  I  am 
happy  to  learn  that  you  are  about  to  return  to  the  field  of  your 
labours — an  ample  field  it  is — and  the  three  teeming  volumes 
you  have  so  suddenly  laid  before  the  public  show  how  well  you 
know  where  to  put  in  your  sickle. 

With  warmest  wishes  for  your  continued  success,  I  am,  my 
dear  sir. 

Most  truly  your  obliged  friend  and  servant, 

Washington  Irving. 

J.  L.  Motley,  Esq. 


204  MOTLEY'S  LETTEES.  [Chap.  VII. 


CHAPTEE  VII. 

BRUSSELS — AT  WORK  ON  '  THE  UNITED  NETHERLANDS.' 

Letter  to  O.  W.  Holmes — Access  to  the  State  Paper  Office — Nice  in  December — 
Work  on  the  'History  of  the  United  Netherlands' — At  Brussels  and  in 
Holland — M.  Gachard — M,  Groen  van  Prinsterer — Reception  of  the  '  Dutch 
Republic'  in  Holland  —  Dutch  Society — The  Hague — Work  at  the  Ar- 
chives in  Brussels — And  in  Paris — Visit  to  the  Bismarcks — Frankfort. 

To  Dr.  0.  W.  Eolmes. 

Walton-on-Thames, 

September  16th,  1857. 

My  dear  Wendell, — This  is  not  a  letter,  not  even  an 
apology  for  one.  I  only  wish  to  say  to  you  that  I  intend  to 
write  very  soon,  and  that  I  hope  to  hear  from  you  as  often  as 
you  can  overcome  your  avaricious  tendencies.  I  am  myself 
excessively  miserly  at  this  moment,  for  I  am  almost  distraught 
at  the  circumlocution  and  circumvolutions  of  London.  To 
try  to  do  anything  in  a  hurry  here  is  to  "  hew  down  oaks  with 
rushes."  Sisyphus  with  his  rock  was  an  idle,  loafing  individual 
compared  to  the  martyr  who  is  doomed  to  work  up  the  pre- 
cipice of  English  routine.  I  have  been  in  London  a  month,, 
and  my  rock  has  just  come  down  upon  my  toes  for  the  fourth 
or  fifth  time.  I  have  not  yet  got  into  the  State  Paper  Office,, 
where  I  expected  to  have  effected  my  entrance  after  the  first 
day  or  two  succeeding  my  arrival.  I  thought  to  have  done  a 
great  deal  of  work  there  this  time.  But  the  American  Minister, 
and  the  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs,  and  the  Minister  of  the 
Interior,  and  the  Master  of  the  Kolls  (who  by  the  way  is  not  a 
baker,  as  Lowell  would  probably  suggest),  and  various  other 
dignitaries  have  all  to  be  made  aware  (in  a  Pickwickian  sense) 
that  an  insignificant  individual  like  myself  is  desirous  of 
reading  some  musty  and  forgotten  old  letters  which  not  one 
of  them  could  read  or  would  wish  to  if  they  could.     A  friend 


*857.]  THE  STATE  PAPER  OFFICE.  205 

of  mine  once  went  into  a  soda-water  shop  in  Boston  on  a  very 
hot  (Irtv,  and  was  told  by  an  elderly  individual  behind  the 
counter  that  his  son  John,  proprietor  of  the  establishment, 
had  gone  to  Portland,  but  that  upon  his  return  he  would 
undoubtedly  be  very  happy  to  prepare  him  a  glass.  This  is 
exactly  my  case.  The  Earl  of  Clarendon  is  absent  with  the 
Queen  at  Balmoral.  Panizzi  of  the  British  Museum  is  in 
Turin.  Dallas  is  at  the  Isle  of  Wight,  and  others  are  hiding 
themselves  in  other  corners  or  pretending  to  be  absent,  even 
if  actually  here,  because  in  September  it  is  disreputable  to  be 
in  London.  No  moral  or  religious  person  therefore  would 
acknowledge  himself  to  be  here.  When  these  illustrious  per- 
sonages all  get  back,  they  will  unite  to  prepare  my  glass  of 
soda-water.  By  that  time  I  shall  be  in  Paris.  I  have  also 
had  time  during  the  last  two  or  three  weeks  to  go  over  a  mass 
of  MS,  in  the  British  Museum.  Mais  ilfaut  casser  des  oeufs 
ipour  faire  une  omelette. 

Eoutledge  tells  me  that  your  poems  (particularly  the  Pwich- 
Bowl),  are  familiar  to  everybody  in  England.  I  have  been  a 
recluse  till  now.  We  are  at  present  staying  at  this  magni- 
ficent place,  Mount  Felix,  near  Walton-on-Thames,  enjoying  the 
princely  hospitality  of  our  friends,  Eussell  Sturgis  and  his  wife. 
I  wish  you  were  here  too.  Remember  me  kindly  to  Lowell  and 
Agassiz  and  Felton,  Longfellow,  Tom  Appleton,  and  all  the 
members  of  our  Club,  which  I  hope  you  have  regularly  joined 
by  this  time.  My  wife  joins  me  in  warmest  remembrances 
to  you  and  your  wife  and  children.  I  am  provoked  that  I 
have  been  writing  all  about  myself.  I  shall  write  to  you  ere 
long  again,  and  will  not  use  this  horrible  paper.  Nee  ienui 
^penna  is  a  good  motto,  but  Neo  tenui  eharta  shall  henceforth 
be  mine.  Do  write  me  occasionally,  if  only  a  single  sheet  of 
notepaper,  and  pardon  the  detestable  stupidity  of  this. 
Ever  most  sincerely  your*  friend, 

J.  L.  M. 

An  English  admirer  of  yours,  Mr.  Synge,  attache  in  Her 
Majesty's  Foreign  Office,  who  is  staying  in  this  house  and  who 
has  heard  much  in  your  praise  from  Thackeray,  asks  to  send 
you  his  respects. 


206  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  YII. 

To  Ids  Mother. 

Nice, 
December  13th,  1857. 

My  dearest  Mother, — Mary  and  Susie  were  charmed  with 
your  letters  to  them,  and  with  your  account  of  your  Kiverdale 
wedding  festivities.  I  tell  them  I  hope  you  will  celebrate  your 
one  hundredth  jubilee  in  the  same  way  and  place,  although  I 
suppose  it  is  rather  a  longer  prospect  than  any  of  us  would  care 
to  look  forward  to  just  at  present.  As  I  have  never  been  in  the 
tropics,  I  cannot  get  used  to  this  constant  flood  of  warm  sun- 
shine, cloudless  and  almost  oppressive  day  after  day,  in  what 
certainly  are  not  generally  considered  the  genial  last  weeks  of 
the  year.  We  have  been  here  about  six  weeks,  and  there  have 
been  but  two  or  three  cloudy  days,  and  those  were  warm  rainy 
ones,  all  the  rest  as  warm  and  as  fine  as  our  best  days  in  early 
October.  Warmer  than  those,  because  there  is  always  a  lump 
of  ice  stirred  in  at  night  into  the  American  Indian  summer. 
Here  we  have  had  no  signs  of  frost  as  yet ;  green  peas  are 
about  as  cheap  as  in  July  in  Boston,  and  red  roses  are  as 
plenty  out  of  doors  at  Christmas  as  red  noses  are  in  Winter 
Street  at  the  same  season.  The  consequence  of  this  satis- 
factory condition  of  the  atmosphere  is  that  Lily  is  almost 
growing  fat.  She  has  improved  during  six  weeks  more  than 
we  had  dared  to  hope,  though  I  am  sorry  to  say  her  condition 
is  far  from  being  completely  satisfactory.  She  is  still  languid, 
and  unable  to  take  much  exercise,  but  she  can  breathe  the 
fresh  air  and  sunshine  all  day  long,  by  merely  opening  the 
window  and  going  out  on  the  balcony. 

Nice  is  in  itself  an  insignificant  little  town,  with  about  40,000 
inhabitants.  The  chief  productions  of  the  place,  as  the  school 
geography  would  s^y,  are  oil,  perfumery,  and  beggars;  the 
latter  article  being  rather  too  strong  a  combination  of  the  two 
first.  It  is  placed  along  a  crescent-shaped  bay,  formed  by 
beautifully  and  boldly  outlined  mountainous  headlands,  with  a 
little  lighthouse  at  the  tip  of  each  horn,  and  with  a  background 
of  high,  solid,  warm  rocks,  with  orange  and  olive  groves 
crammed  into  all  the  intei\stices.  It  unfolds  itself  to  the  sunny 
Mediterranean  on  the  south,  and   shelters  itself  under  the 


1857.]  PROGRESS— •  THE  UNH'ED  NETHERLANDS.'  207 

mountains  from  the  north  wind.  For  these  reasons  it  has, 
perhaps,  the  best  and  brightest  climate  in  Italy.  Our  apart- 
ment fronts  the  sea,  having  as  bold  a  marine  view  as  the  Nahant 
hotel.  The  murmurs  of  the  tideless  ocean  upon  the  shingly- 
beach  are  never  silent  under  our  balcony,  the  profiles  of  the 
mountains  which  encircle  the  place  are  always  seen  through  a 
golden  and  purple  haze,  which  is  peculiar  to  Italy,  and  the 
windows  on  the  opposite  side  look  over  whole  acres  of  orange 
orchards,  just  now  golden  with  fruit,  and  fragrant  with  blossoms, 
in  addition  to  which  three  miles  of  shirts  and  chemises  can  be 
seen  drying  any  day  upon  the  beach  in  front,  gracefully  flutter- 
ing and  displaying  their  raggedness  along  the  whole  sinuosity 
of  the  bay. 

You  must  not  suppose  that  I  am  idle.     I  certainly  should 
not  have  chosen  Nice  for  a  family  residence,  except  on  Lily's 
account.      Nevertheless,  being    here,  I   can  occupy  myself 
for  a  long  time  with  several  hundredweight  of  books,  which 
I  have  brought  with  me,  and  which  I  must  devour  and  turn 
into  chyle  before  I  can  do  much  in  the  way  of  writing.     My 
time  in  London  was  not  lost  for  a  single  day,  and  I  have 
now  two  persons  employed  there  in  copying  for  me,  according 
to  my  mapping  out  when  personally  in  the  State  Paper  OflSce 
and  British  Museum.     I  was  also  hard  at  work  in  the  Archives 
in  Paris  during  the  few  weeks  that  we  were  there.    I  have, 
however,  much  to  do  in  the  subterranean  way  in  Brussels, 
the  Hague,  London,  and  Paris.     I  do  not  write  at  all  as  yet, 
but  am  diving  deep  and  staying  under  very  long,  but  hoping 
not  to  come  up  too  dry.     My  task  is  a  very  large  and  hard 
one.     My  canvas  is  very  broad,  and  the  massing  and  the  com- 
position of  the  picture  will  give  me  more  trouble  than  the 
more  compact  one  which  I  have  already  painted.    Then  I  have 
not  got  a  grand  central  heroic  figure,  like  William  the  Silent, 
to  give  unity  and  flesh  and  blood  interest  to  the  scene.     The 
history  will,  I  fear,  be  duller  and  less  dramatic  than  the  other. 
Nevertheless,  there  are  many  grand  events  and  striking  cha- 
racters, if  I  can  do  justice  to  them.     If  I  could  write  half  a 
dozen  volumes,  with  a  cheerful  confidence  that  people  would 
read  them  as  easily  as  I  write  them,  my  task  would  be  a  com- 


208  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  VII. 

paratively  easy  one.  But  I  do  not  know  where  all  the  books 
are  to  go  that  are  written  now-a-days.  And  then  my  pub- 
lishers have  failed,  and  Heaven  knows  what  may  be  the 
condition  of  the  market  when  I  take  my  next  pigs  there.  In 
short,  I  cannot  write  at  all,  except  by  entirely  forgetting  for 
the  time  that  there  is  such  a  thing  as  printing  and  publishing. 
Nice,  I  am  very  much  disappointed  to  say,  is  very  dear, 
being  a  kind  of  watering-place,  where  the  six  lean  months  of 
winter  are  made  to  swallow  the  six  fat  ones  of  summer.  If 
you  should  stay  a  year,  and  get  the  fat  and  lean  both,  the 
average  would  be  respectably  low. 


To  his  Wife. 

Hotel  du  Rhin,  Paris, 

January  15th,  1858. 

My  deaeest  Mary, — I  wrote  you  a  brief  nate  from  Mar- 
seilles just  before  leaving  that  place  for  Paris.  I  made  the 
journey  comfortably  enough,  getting  about  as  much  sleep  out 
of  the  coupe  of  the  railroad  as  I  usually  do  out  of  a  bedstead, 
arrived  here  about  seven  o'clock  of  a  dismal  sloppy  morning, 
and  installed  in  a  garret  on  the  courtyard  of  the  inside  house. 

When  I  got  home  I  found  that  old had  been  looking  for 

me,  and  wished  much  to  see  me  before  I  departed.     So  I  went 

to  the  "  Hotel  du  Louvre  "  and  found  him.     Mrs. was  of 

course  on  hand,  mending  her  stockings,  and  the  children  were 
bivouacking  as  usual  upon  the  floor  and  skirmishing  about  the 
room.  She  informed  me  that  the  atmosphere  of  Nice  was  very 
cold  and  foggy ;  which  statement  was  so  very  like  that 
respecting  the  Correggio  in  the  Manchester  Exhibition  that  I 
could  only  bow  meekly  in  deference  to  her  superior  msdom. 

Poor seemed  more  oppressed  by  her  than  ever.     We  got 

into  a  corner,  and  I  ^ried  to  make  him  forget  his  misery. 

But  Mrs. was  constantly  hovering  over  us  like  a  vulture, 

and  at  last  pounced  up\n  him  bodily,  insisted  on  discussing 
the  point  whether  she  might  go  and  make  her  visits  in  a  fiacre 
with  one  horse,  or  whether '^he  ought  to  have  two.  She  then 
screwed  herself  up  to  askingl  me  to  dinner,  and  looked  radiant 


1S58.]  WORK  IN  BRUSSELS.  209 

when  I  told  her  I  was  engaged.  I  did  not  tell  her  I  never 
•lined  in  the  dark,  and  as  there  is  a  very  brilliant  row  of 
gas-lights  in  the  street  opposite  their  windows,  I  suppose 
they  never  indulge  in  candles. 

I  think  I  have  chronicled  small  beer  enough  for  you  for  the 
present.  I  leave  to-morrow  morning  at  eight  for  Brussels.  I 
have  not  yet  heard  from  Van  der  Weyer,  but  I  have  written  to 
him  to  send  his  letters  to  Brussels.  I  can  do  nothing  here. 
Kiss  my  darlings  a  thousand  times.  Tell  Susie  I  hope  she  has 
begun  to  miss  me  a  little  bit,  even  in  spite  of  my  scoldings. 
Tell  Lily  that  when  she  has  finished  what  she  is  reading, 
I  recommend  her  to  get  Sismondi's  *  Precis  de  I'Histoire  de 
France,'  which  is  very  readable  and  in  but  three  volumes.  If 
it  is  not  in  the  Library,  I  think  she  will  be  able  to  buy  it  at 
Visconti's  ;  I  should  like  her  also  to  read  Lingard's  *  History 
of  England.'  He  is  a  Koman  Catholic,  but  honest  enough, 
and  at  any  rate  more  respectable  than  Hume.  She  had  better 
read  also  Bancroft's  'History  of  the  United  States,'  and 
Thierry's  *  Conquete  de  I'Angleterre.*  All  these  books  are  in 
the  Library.  I  wish  she  would  find  time,  too,  to  study  Italian 
a  little.  If  she  wants  a  teacher  no  doubt  plenty  are  to  be 
found  at  Nice. 

As  for  my  little  Saint  Mary,  I  only  wish  I  had  her  always 
with  me  to  take  advice  and  example  from.  I  have  none  to 
give  her. 

You  see  I  do  not  bore  you  with  the  Attentat,  for  I  know 
nothing  that  is  not  in  the  newspapers.  I  have  made  no  call 
either  upon  Guizot  or  Madame  Mohl  or  anybody.  As  I  am 
only  passing  through,  it  would  be  nonsense. 

Ever  affectionately  yours, 
J.  L.  M. 


To  his  Father. 

Brussels, 
January  24th,  1858. 

My  dear  Father, — Finding  my  family  so  well  and  com- 
fortably established  at  Nice  for  the  winter,  and  Lily's  health 
so  much  improved  as  to  be  no  longer  a  source  of  anxiety, 

VOL.  I.  P 


210  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  YII. 

I  was  unwilling  to  delay  any  longer  making  a  move  towards 
the  land  of  my  labours.  Although  the  books  that  I  took  with 
me  would  have  given  me  employment  for  several  months  at 
Nice,  yet  I  wanted  to  set  about  as  soon  as  possible  the  work 
which  can  only  be  accomplished  here  and  at  the  Hague. 

I  came  to  this  place  intending  to  make  an  effort  to  see  the 
MS.  copies  made  long  ago  by  order  of  the  Belgian  Govern- 
ment of  a  very  important  correspondence  of  Philip  the  Second 
and  his  Ministers  with  the  governors  and  other  important 
personages  in  the  Low  Countries.  This  correspondence  is  in 
course  of  publication  by  Mr.  Gachard,  Archivist  of  the  King- 
dom, and  an  acquaintance  of  mine.  At  the  rate  at  which  the 
publication  proceeds,  however,  I  shall  be  dead  and  buried 
before  it  reaches  the  epoch  at  which  I  wish  to  use  it. 
M.  Yan  der  Weyer,  with  whom  I  spent  a  day  and  night  at  his 
house  at  Windsor,  when  I  was  last  in  England,  promised  me 
to  use  his  best  efforts  to  obtain  the  permission  for  me  to  read 
the  correspondence  in  MS.  We  agreed  that  when  I  was  ready 
to  proceed  to  Brussels,  he  should  write  letters  to  Mr.  Gachard, 
to  the  Minister  of  the  Interior,  and  others,  urging  my  claims, 
etc.  Accordingly  the  other  day  before  leaving  Nice,  I  wrote 
to  M.  Van  der  Weyer,  asking  for  those  friendly  offices.  I  did  not 
reflect,  however,  that  I  had  stumbled  exactly  upon  the  moment 
of  the  marriage  of  the  Princess  Koyal,  when  the  whole  Belgian 
royal  family  were  on  Yan  der  Weyer's  hands,  and  when  he 
could  hardly  be  expected  to  think  of  anything  else. 

In  consequence  of  that,  I  hardly  expect  to  hear  from  him  at 
all  at  present ;  but  as  I  shall  be  here  again  in  the  summer,  I 
shall  have  plenty  of  time  to  attend  to  the  matter  then.  Mean- 
while, as  I  had  come  so  far,  I  thought  I  had  better  make  a 
slight  invasion  of  Holland,  and  so  a  week  ago  to-day  I  went 
to  the  Hague.  My  reception  there  was  very  cordial.  All  the 
newspapers  announced  my  arrival  with  a  good  deal  of  flourish. 
The  two  gentlemen  whose  opinion  I  most  value  (as  they  are 
themselves  leading  authorities  in  all  matters  of  Netherland 
history),  Mr.  Groen  van  Prinsterer,  who  has  the  charge  of  the 
private  or  family  archiv^es  of  the  House  of  Orange-Nassau, 
and  who  is  well  known  as  \an  author,  besides  being  a  promi- 

\ 


1^58.]    BECEPTIOX  OP  'DUTCH  REPUBLIC  IN  HOLLAND.     211 

nent  member  of  the  States-General,  and  Mr.  Bakhuysen  van 
<lor  Brink,  the  Archivist-general  of  the  Kingdom,  the  most 
learned  man  and  the  cleverest  writer  in  the  country,  both 
spoke  of  my  work  in  the  strongest  terms  of  approbation.  They 
iissured  mo  that  almost  everybody  in  Holland  had  read  it,  and 
that  there  was  but  one  opinion  about  it,  that  it  had  made  a 
very  deep  and  general  sensation.  A  great  many  things  were 
said  to  me  which  it  would  not  be  becoming  to  repeat.  The 
book  very  soon  after  its  appearance  was  reprinted  at  Amster- 
dam, and  has  had  a  large  sale,  not  to  the  benefit  of  the  author's 
pocket,  however,  but  I  am  very  glad  to  have  it  circulated. 
The  edition  is  quite  a  pretty  one,  and  sells  for  about  three- 
and-a-half  dollars.  I  think  that  you  are  already  aware  that  a 
French  translation  is  preparing  under  the  auspices  of  the 
distinguished  Mr.  Guizot.  I  had  a  kind  invitation  to  visit 
him  in  a  few  days  when  I  return  to  Paris,  and  I  suppose  the 
translation  will  appear  before  long,  but  have  no  recent  news 
on  the  subject.  The  whole  work  has  also  been  translated  into 
German,  and  has  been  published  at  Leipzig  and  Dresden.  I 
have  not  yet  seen  the  translation,  but  I  mean  to  get  a  copy  in 
Paris. 

But  the  most  satisfactory  thing  on  the  whole  to  me  is  that 
a  translation  into  Dutch  is  now  appearing  (published  in 
numbers),  under  the  superintendence  of  Mr.  Bakhuysen,  of 
whom  I  have  already  spoken.  He  has  written  a  preface,  and 
adds  a  good  many  notes  and  comments.  The  book  is  very 
handsomely  printed,  and  I  regard  its  publication  as  a  very 
satisfactory  testimonial  to  the  permanent  value  of  the  work.  I 
think  it  is  something  better  than  vanity  which  causes  me  to 
take  an  honest  pleasure  in  finding  my  labours  appreciated  and 
commended  by  the  persons  most  fit  to  sit  in  judgment  upon 
them.  I  own  that  I  should  have  been  deeply  mortified  on 
arriving  in  Holland  to  find  that  nobody  had  heard  of  my 
book.  Yet  previously  to  last  week  I  had  no  reason  to  suppose 
that  it  had  obtained  any  currency.  Nobody  had  ever  told  me 
of  the  translations  and  republications,  so  that  I  was  quite  taken 
by  surprise  at  finding  myself  so  well-known  here.  The  best 
results  of  these  favourable  views  regarding  my  work  is  the 

p  2 


212  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  VI!. 

facility  which  it  gives  me  for  the  one  with  which  I  am  at 
present  occupied.  Mr.  Groen  and  Mr.  Bakhuysen  both  take 
the  greatest  pleasure  in  aiding  my  researches  in  every  possible- 
way,  and  a  great  mass  of  unpublished  documents  will  be  laid 
before  me  when  I  come  back  in  June. 

I  shall  doubtless  find  letters  to-morrow  at  my  bankers  here. 
Lily,  thank  God,  is  so  much  better  that  we  are  no  longer 
anxious  about  her.  Mary  and  the  other  two  children  are  very 
well.  There  v/as  never  anything  like  the  atmosphere  of  Nice. 
We  came  to  that  place  in  the  first  week  in  November,  and  till 
the  12th  of  January,  when  I  left,  there  had  been  but  three 
days  when  there  had  not  been  cloudless  sunshine  and  balmy 
airs.  The  windows  of  our  apartment  were  open  all  day  long, 
and  sometimes  it  was  even  necessary  to  shut  the  green  blinds 
just  as  if  it  were  mid-summer  instead  of  mid-winter.  Here  in 
the  Netherlands  we  have  generally  lowering  and  rainy  skies, 
and  great-coats  and  fires  are  indispensable.  Still  there  is 
neither  frost  nor  snow,  nothing  like  winter  as  we  understand 
the  word  in  America.  Give  my  love  to  my  dear  mother.  I  da 
hope  and  trust  that  she  will  send  me  with  her  own  hand  a 
better  account  of  herself. 

In  order  to  gain  time  and  to  lighten  my  labours,  I  have 
already  engaged  a  very  competent  person  to  make  certain  pre- 
liminary researches  and  copies  during  all  the  time  I  am  absent 
from  the  Hague.  I  expect  on  my  return  thither  in  June  to 
find  a  considerable  progress  made.  The  same  is  doing  for  me 
in  the  State  Paper  Office  and  the  British  Museum  of  London. 
Alas  !  I  am  not  making  much  money  by  such  operations  ;  but  I 
believe  in  the  long  run  that  even  in  a  pecuniary  point  of  view 
I  am  doing  right  to  make  thorough  work.  It  will  be  impos- 
sible for  anybody  to  deny  a  permanent  value  to  labours  which 
have  been  conscientiously  carried  out,  and  have  obtained  the 
unqualified  approbation  of  those  most  competent  to  pronounce 
upon  them.  When  my  two  works  are  both  finished,  I  cannot 
help  thinking  that  they  will  have  a  considerable  value  even 
in  the  money  market.  But  at  the  same  time  it  is  impossible 
for  me  to  do  anything  at  all  unless  I  discard  all  such  ideas 
from  my  mind  when  I  am  writing.    The  moment  a  man  begins 


1858.]  THE  HAGUE.  213 

to  write  for  money,  it  is  apt  to|be  all  over  with  his  true  repu- 
tation. j\reautime,  withlmy  love  to  all  both  great  and  small  at 
iiome,  I  am 

Aflfectionately  your  son, 

J.  L.  M. 


To  his  Wife. 

Brussels, 
January  2ith,  1858. 

I  have  been  working  pretty  hard  in  the  short  time  I  was  at 
the  Hague,  and  I  feel  that  I  have  made  a  good  deal  of  pro- 
gress. I  should  have  stayed  a  little  longer,  but  for  a  reason 
which  seems  a  ridiculous  one  enough  to  state,  but  you  know 
me  well  enough  to  acquit  me  of  affectation — I  could  hardly 
Jbave  remained  longer  without  going  to  see  the  Queen.  Our 
old  friend.  Count  Louis  Bylandt,  told  me  she  was  the  first 
person  to  speak  to  him  of  my  book,  telling  him  that  he  must 
read  it,  and  using  very  complimentary  language  on  the 
subject. 
■  He  told  me  that  I  ought  to  send  to  Count  Kandwyk  (from 
whom,  by  the  way,  you  remember  that  I  received  a  very  civil 
message  through  Sir  Charles  Lyell),  and  be  presented  to  her 
;it  once, — that  she  would  be  much  pleased  to  see  me,  etc.,  etc., 
^ud  that  he  should  tell  her  that  I  was  in  the  Hague  as 
soon  as  he  saw  her, — that  her  small  tea-parties  are  extremely 
agreeable.  There  is  also  a  great  ball  at  the  English  Am- 
bassador's, and  Count  Bylandt  wanted  to  send  word  to  him 
that  I  was  there,  saying  that  he  had  had  a  great  deal  to  say 
to  him  about  me,  and  would  at  once  send  me  an  invitation. 
The  Groen  van  Prinsterers  were  also  very  urgent  that  I 
should  go  into  society,  telling  me  that  I  should  find  that 
everybody  was  acquainted  with  me  already.  Un'der  these 
t  ircumstances,  finding  that  I  should  be  obliged  to  abandon 
my  beloved  solitude,  you  will  think  it  very  natural  that  I 
should  decamp.  If  I  had  been  twenty-three  instead  of  forty- 
three  I  daresay  it  would  have  been  very  jolly  to  go  to  the 
Queen's  tea-parties  and    get   a   few   sugar-plums,    but    my 


214  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  VII. 

appetite  for  such  diet  is  gone.  I  enjoyed  my  twilight  walks 
under  the  leafless  branches  of  the  magnificent  oaks  and 
beeches  of  the  great  wood,  musing  and  moralising  like  the 
melancholy  Jacques  in  the  forest  of  Arden,  and  once  I  took  a 
long  stroll  on  the  sands  at  Scheveningen.  The  winter  sky 
was  wild  and  lowering,  and  for  miles  seaward  the  waves  of  the 
stormy  North  Sea  were  rolling  in  vast  sheets  of  foam  over  the 
breakers.  It  was  a  grand  and  gloomy  Kuysdael,  a  good 
counterpart  to  the  golden  Claudes  which  you  have  daily  from 
your  windows  at  Nice. 

I  had  not  much  time  to  enjoy  the  "  rapture  of  the  lonely 
shore,"  but  I  remain  of  the  opinion  that  the  Hague  is  in 
winter  the  prettiest  town  in  Europe.  It  is  so  clean,  and 
orderly,  and  elegant,  and  so  embowered  in  foliage.  I  could 
not  well  have  remained  longer  without  making  visits,  etc. 
The  newspapers,  both  of  the  Hague  and  Kotterdam  had 
announced  my  arrival  with  a  great  flourish  of  trumpets  (for- 
tunately not  till  the  day  before  my  departure),  so  upon 
Saturday  morning  (day  before  yesterday)  I  returned  to  this 
place. 

Count  Bylandt  has  sold  the  Murillo  to  Mr.  Aspinwall  for 
something  less  than  the  price  he  asked  when  we  were  at  the 
Hague  ($16,000),  Mr.  Aspinwall  had  also  bought  the  Claudes, 
and  I  am  glad  that  one  rich  American  has  bought  some  good 
pictures  as  a  set  off  to  the  Leonardos   and   Titians  of  the 

's   gallery   and   other   similar   collections.     I    am   quite 

disgusted.  I  have  been  writing  two  sheets  and  a  half  about 
myself.  But  how  can  I  help  it  ?  You  will  want  to  know  about 
my  visit  to  the  Hague,  and  it  would  be  a  silly  affectation  not 
to  say  what  I  had  to  say,  and  what  I  suppose  will  interest  you 
to  hear.  Nor  is  it  as  if  I  had  been  talking  from  the  house- 
tops or  in  the  newspapers.  Still  if  I  had  any  other  topic  to 
entertain  you  wii|;h  I  would  do  it  with  pleasure,  but  I  have  been 
completely  alono  ever  since  I  left  Paris,  and  I  dread  going 
back  there  where  there  are  such  a  lot  of  people.  This  is 
Sunday,  and  I  halce  therefore  not  been  able  to  get  my 
letters,  which  I  ordered  Monroe  to  send  to  my  bankers  here. 
To-morrow  I  shall  of  course  have  news  of  you,  dear  Mary,  and 


1833.]  THE  ARCHIVES  IN  BRUSSELS.  215 

of  my  little  darlings.  Tell  Lily  I  think  she  may  find  the 
stories  of  Henri  Conscience  interesting.  I  bought  two  or  three 
to  read  while  travelling,  but  as  they  are  in  Flemish,  they 
would  be  of  little  use  to  anybody  else.  They  have  all  been 
translated  into  French,  however,  and  I  suspect  you  will  find 
them  at  Visconti's.  They  are  something  like  Auerbach's 
stories,  generally  of  the  Flemish  peasants  and  artisans,  and 
contain  many  pleasing  quiet  Gerard  Dow-ish  incidents  and 
quiet,  gentle  unfoldiugs  of  sentiments  and  affection  vety 
different  from  the  highly  charged  romances  of  the  Satanic 
schools.  The  moral  tone  is  unexceptionable,  but  they  are 
perhaps  a  little  flat,  too  little  cayenne  for  your  taste,  but  still 
you  might  fancy  them.  Has  Susie  begun  to  miss  me  yet  ? 
How  is  her  handwriting  ?  I  am  in  daily  expectation  of  seeing 
some  remarkable  result  of  the  method  so  much  approved  by 
Tomkins  of  London.  Has  she  curled  the  jpere  C.'s  hair 
as  she  proposed  ?  What  is  my  little  angel  Mary  doing  ? 
Taking  care  of  everybody  but  herself,  as  usual,  I  suppose.  It 
seems  to  me  as  if  I  had  been  gone  a  year,  and  that  nobody 
would  know  me  if  I  should  walk  into  the  Maison  Donaudy. 
I  shall  write  soon  again. 

Affectionately  your  own, 

J.  L.  M. 


I 


To  Us  Wife. 

Brussels, 
March  2nd,  1858. 

My  dear  Mary, — I  hardly  know  whether  I  have  written  to 
you  within  the  last  few  days  or  not.  My  days  and  nights 
succeed  each  other  and  certify  each  other  so  monotonously 
that  they  seem  to  be  all  stuck  together  in  one  piece.  It  is 
like  one  long  sentence  without  punctuation,  like  the  inter- 
minable Spanish  despatches  which  I  am  reading  every  day, 
and  which  run  sometimes  for  fifty  pages  without  a  period  or 
even  a  comma.  I  am  at  the  Archives  every  day  before  ten, 
and  generally  till  five,  as  Gachard,  when  he  stops,  invites  me 
into  his  cabinet  after  the  regular  hour  of  closing,  which  is 


216  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  VIL 

three.  Then,  la  nuit  tombante,  I  take  a  grim  crepuscular  walk 
round  the  shabby  little  boulevards,  after  which  I  go  to  the 
reading-room  for  an  hour.  At  half-past  seven  I  dine  alone  in 
the  large  salle  a  manger,  lighted  by  one  candle,  with  two  waiters 
looking  at  me,  so  that  I  always  feel  like  Warren  in  the  farce 
which  we  saw  at  the  Museum.  After  this  I  work  till  twelve 
or  one  o'clock,  burning  a  good  deal  of  midnight  spermaceti, 
which,  at  the  rate  charged  for  it,  comes,  according  to  my 
calculation,  to  about  one  whale  a  month.  Thus  you  see  that 
I  have  always  a  pickaxe  in  hand,  and  am  working  my  way 
pretty  steadily  into  the  bowels  of  the  land.  At  the  same  time 
I  do  not  see  that  I  have  anything  amusing  to  communicate  to 
you.  I  have  a  fine  opportunity  for  cultivating  my  talent  for 
silence,  but  that  does  not  enable  me  to  be  very  agreeable  in 
conversation,  even  by  letter.  I  am  attacked  by  very  frequent 
fits  of  the  a  quoi  hon  disease,  and  am  constantly  asking  myself 
why  I  should  condemn  myself  in  this  absurd  way  to  travaux 
forces  a  perpStuite.  Here  I  go  trainant  ma  houle,  and  it  does 
not  do  me  any  good,  or  anybody  else.  I  am  getting  disgusted 
with  the  word  "  history,"  and  yet  I  go  boring  on  merely 
because  it  seems  to  be  my  destiny /awie  de  mieux. 

I  went  again  to  see  Madame  Metivie  yesterday,  and  found 
her  at  home,  together  with  the  other  one.  Miss  le  Strange  ^ 
was  there,  too,  with  her  father,  and  was  delighted  to  hear  of 
Lily  and  Mary,  whom  she  recollects  very  well,  and  begged 
to  be  kindly  remembered.  She  is  quite  a  pretty,  pleasing 
girl. 

March  15th. — I  have  pretty  nearly  finished  in  Brussels  for 

the  present.     I  have  gone  through  nearly  the  whole  of  the 

Simancas    correspondence,  twelve   hundred  letters,  many  of 

them  sixty  pages  in  length,  and  after  all  they  are  rather  a 

seeeatura.    I  suppose  I  shall  go  to  Paris  by  the  end  of  the 

week. 

Ever  yours, 

J.  L.  M. 

^  Now  Mrs.  "WJaller,  who,  with  her      phant,  had    heen    fellow-pupils    and 
sister,  afterwards  ^rs.  Laurence  Oli-      friends  of  his  daughter.— Ed. 


1858.] 


THE  ARCHIVES  IN  PARIS. 


217 


To  his  Daughter. 

Paris, 
March  2Qth,  1858. 

My  dear  little  Mary, — Your  sweet,  beautifully-written 
letter  of  February  26th  gave  me  a  great  deal  of  pleasure,  and 
I  did  not  intend  to  have  left  it  so  long  unanswered.  But  I 
am  always  very  hard  at  work,  and  besides,  I  have  usually  at 
least  a  dozen  letters  on  hand,  generally  to  persons  I  care  very 
little  about,  which  is  the  most  disagreeable  labour  of  all  to  me. 
It  would  be  a  great  pleasure  to  me  to  write  to  you  now  if  I 
could  say  anything  that  would  interest  or  amuse  you.  My 
darling  child,  you  have  always  been  a  blessing  and  a  conso- 
lation ever  since  you  were  bom.  I  never  can  express  the 
tenderness  and  gratitude  I  feel  towards  you. 

Your  mamma  gives  me  a  much  longer  period  for  staying  in 
Paris  than  I  intend  to  spend  here.  I  am  rather  tired  of  work, 
and  not  very  well.  After  I  have  got  through  a  little  job  at 
the  Archives,  which  will  not  take  me  a  great  many  days,  I 
wish  to  come  and  see  you  all  once  more.  As  for  Paris,  "  c^est 
la  mer  a  hoire  "  in  respect  of  work,  and  I  do  not  like  to  look 
at  the  Archives  or  the  Library,  for  they  show  me  how  much 
labour  there  would  be  for  me  if  I  stayed  longer.  I  have  been 
to  see  Mrs.  Crowninshield,  but  did  not  find  her,  and  shall  go 
again  to-day.  I  went  to  see  Mrs.  Brooks  last  evening.  She 
made  many  kind  inquiries  after  mamma  and  Lily.      I  have 

seen  Mrs.  Amory  and  S ,  who  seem  satisfied  with  their 

winter's  work.  Mr.  Frank  Lowell  goes  to-day  to  Italy.  Good- 
bye, my  dear  little  Mary.  Give  my  love  to  mamma,  Lily, 
and  Susie,  and  believe  me, 

Your  aflfectionate  little 

Papa. 


218  MOTLEY'S  LETTEES.  [Chap.  VII. 

To  Ms  Wife. 

Frankfort, 
Monday  night.  May  3rd,  1858. 

My  dearest  Maey, — According  to  my  promise  I  write  you 
a  single  line  before  I  go  to  bed  that  I  may  inform  you  of  my 
safe   arrival   in  this    place,    notwithstanding   the   numerous 
dangers  of  flood  and  field  which  beset  the  venturer  on  such 
unfrequented  paths.     I  slept  the  first  night  at  Yverdun,  an 
unsophisticated  place,  where  they  have  not  yet  learned  how 
much  to  charge  for  their  indifferent  accommodation,  an  igno- 
rance which   will   soon  fade   before  the   advancing   railroad 
system.     The  next  day  I  left  by  the  boat  at  eight,  and  crossing 
the  two  lakes  of  Neufchatel  and  Brienne,  took  the  rail  at  6  a.m. 
There  is  a  tunnel  eight  minutes  long  on  this  road,  which  had 
just  been  opened  the  day  before  yesterday.     From  )■  Bale  to 
Frankfort  I  came  to-day,  and  reached  this  place  at  half-past 
four.     After  dinner  I  went  to  the  Bismarcks,  and  received  as 
affectionate  a  welcome  from  them  both  as  I  knew  I  should, 
and  like  them  if  possible  better  than  ever.     Keyserling  and 
Wanda  were  there,  and  are  staying  at  this  hotel.     His  wife 
died  in  Venice  in  March,  after  much   suffering.     Behr,  his 
brother-in-law,  is  also  here,  but  goes  to  Curland  to-morrow. 
I  suppose  I  shall  stay  through  the   week.     The   Bismarcks, 
however,  are  in  great  confusion,  as  they  are  exactly  in  all  the 
agonies  of  changing  their  residence.     The  house  which  they 
have  inhabited  for  the  last  six  years  they  have  been  obliged 
to  give  up  to  the  owner  thereof,  who  has  just  inherited  seven 
million  guldens,  and  is  disposed  to  go  into  his  house  on  the 
strength  of  it.     They  are  therefore  just  now  sitting  on  two 
stools,  and  as  comfortable  as  people  generally  are  in  such  a 
position. 

May  Ath. — I  wrote  you  a  short  note  the  night  of  my  arrival. 
Since  then  the  Bismarcks  have  got  pretty  well  established  in 
their  new  house.  I  have  dined  there  every  day,  and  spent 
most  of  my  time  with  them.  They  are  entirely  unchanged, 
frank,  cordial,  and  affectionate  as  ever,  both  of  them.  Their 
new  house  has  a  large  garden,  as  large  as  Eichlers'  in  Dresden, 


185S.] 


FRANKFORT. 


219 


with  a  magnificent  view  into  the  country,  and  the  Taunus 
Mountains.  I  shall  leave  to-morrow  for  Cologne,  and  the 
next  day  go  to  Calais,  and  the  third  to  London.  I  am  urged 
to  stay,  but  I  must  get  to  work  or  I  shall  get  rusted  irre- 
vocably, and  as  so  considerable  a  part  of  our  revenue  has  to 
come  out  of  the  inkstand,  I  have  not  much  time  to  lose. 

The  weather  is  horrible — cold,  windy,  and  dusty,  with  occa- 
sional snow  squalls  by  way  of  variety.  The  genial  month  of 
May  is  always  atrocious  anywhere  on  this  side  the  Alps.  It 
makes  me  shiver  to  think  of  the  dismal  voyage  down  the 
Rhine,  and  across  the  Channel,  where  there  is  no  keeping 
tolerably  comfortable,  except  by  going  down  into  those 
diabolical  cabins,  where  perpetual  eating  is  being  perpetrated 
by  the  ever-hungry  Germans.  I  am  sorry  that  the  weather  is 
still  so  disagreeable  with  you.  I  feel  very  anxious  about  you 
all — but,  as  you  say,  I  can  always  be  with  you  very  soon  in 
case  of  necessity.  Do  keep  well  yourself,  dear  Mary,  and 
keep  my  darlings  well  also.  I  am  very  glad  to  hear  my  sweet 
little  Mary  is  well  again.     Believe  me  always 

Most  affectionately  yours, 

J.  L.  M. 


220  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  VIII. 


CHAPTEE  VIII. 

LONDON  SOCIETV. 

Madame  de  Bismarck — Journey  down  the  Rhine — And  to  London — Letter  to 
O.  W .  Hokaes  —  Literary  despondency —  The  '  Autocrat  of  the  Breakfast 
Table  ' — Stale  metaphors — Thackeray's  praise  of  the  '  Autocrat ' — London 
Society— The  Cosmopolitan — William  Stirling — Monckton  Milnes — A.  H. 
Layard — The  State  Paper  OfBce— Dinner  at  the  Mackintoshes — W.  M. 
Thackeray — Lord  Carlisle — The  Athenajum  —  The  Derby — The  Opera — 
Alboni  —  Piccolomini  —  Lord  and  Lady  Lyndhurst — Mr.  Henry  Eeeve — 
Chiswick  House— Sir  0.  Lyell— Lady  Byron — Dinner  at  Thackeray's — Lord 
Macaulay  —  Clubs— The  Guild  of  Authors  —  Dean  Milman  —  England's 
"  delicious  women  of  sixty  " — Thackeray's  lecture  at  Lady  Stanley's— Mrs. 
Norton— A  dinner  with  Mr.  Peabody— "  The  Leviathan  "—Lady  Stanley— 
The  Duchess  of  Somerset — Breakfast  party  at  "Wimbledon  Park — Lord  John 
Eussell  —  English  politics  —  The  "  Derby-Dizzies  "  —  Disraeli's  speech  at 
Slough — The  grandmothers  of  England — Marquis  of  Lansdowne — Dinner  at 
Lady  Airlie's— Henry  Hallam— The  Charity  children  in  St.  Paul's— The 
Chapter  Coffee  House— The  Temple  Church— Dinner  with  Lord  Palmerston 
— Lord  Clarendon — Baron  Brunnow — Abraham  Hayward — Sir  R.  Murchison 
— Lady  William  Eussell — A  Eichmond  dinner— Lord  Brougham  and  Lord 
Lyndhurst— Lord  Stratford  de  Eedcliffe— The  House  of  Commons— Dinner 
at  Lansdowne  House — Mrs.  Norton's  description  of  Disraeli — Lord  Goderich 
— Lord  Brougham  on  the  Slave  Trade — Breakfast  and  dinner  parties  — 
Madame  Mohl— House  of  Lords— Debate  on  Cuba. 

To  Ms  Wife. 

London, 
May  13th,  1858. 

I  reached  this  place  this  morning,  Tuesday.  I  was  just 
ready  to  start  from  the  "  Hotel  d'Angleterre  at  Frankfort,"  at 
about  9  A.M.  My  luggage  was  all  packed  into  a  fiacre,  and  I 
was  just  getting  into  that  vehicle  myself,  when  Madame  de 
Bismarck  made  her  appearance,  and  as  I  was  bidding  her 
good-bye,  she  insisted  upon  it  that  I  should  not  go — that  my 
room  was  quite  ready  at  their  house,  and  that  I  must  proceed 
there  instead  of  to  the  railroad. 

While  I  was  expostulating,  she  gave  a  sudden  nod  to  the 


1858.]  LONDON  SOCIETY.  221 

cocher  of  my  fiacre,  and  before  I  could  stop  him  he  was  on 
his  way  to  her  house  with  my  trunks.  She  then  whisked  me 
off  in  her  carriage  to  the  emharcadere  to  see  Keyserling  and 
Wanda,  who  were  taking  their  departure  in  another  direction. 
After  we  had  seen  them  safely  started,  we  proceeded  to  her 
house.  ...  I  was,  however,  considerably  indisposed,  and  did 
not  care  about  being  invalided  in  their  house.  I  remonstrated 
so  earnestly  therefore,  that  she  agreed  to  let  me  go  to  the 
Bureau  to  make  inquiries.  I  only  mention  this  incident  to 
you  to  show  the  perfectly  frank  and  cordial  way  in  which 
they  treat  me,  and  would  treat  you  if  you  had  accompanied 
me.  She  is  so  kind-hearted,  amiable,  and  jolly.  She  is 
very  desirous  that  you  should  spend  a  winter  at  Frankfort, 
and  wishes  to  bring  Lily  out.  Bismarck  is  unchanged  to  me  ; 
his  Avife  says  he  seems  twenty  years  younger  when  I  am 
there,  which  is  the  real  reason  why  she  likes  my  society  so 
much.  She  is  devotedly  attached  to  him  and  he  to  her.  It 
seems  ridiculous  to  me  that  any  one  should  be  enlivened  by 
my  company,  but  this  is  a  very  good  reason.  His  time  is  so 
much  occupied  with  that  most  tedious  of  all  seccaturas  the 
politics  of  the  German  Confederation,  that  it  is  no  wonder 
when  a  middle-aged  gentleman  is  transformed  temporarily  into 
a  stripling  of  eighteen,  with  deportment  conformable,  his 
family  are  satisfied.  I  make  these  remarks  exclusively  that 
you  may  not  suppose  that  it  is  my  important  individuality 
which  makes  my  presence  agreeable  to  them,  but  that  I  am 
important  only  as  her  husband's  friend.  .  .  . 

I  came  accordingly,  as  above  remarked,  to  Cologne  on 
Tuesday.  The  day  was  a  fine  one — the  only  fine  one  for  many 
days,  and  the  voyage  down  the  river  was  not  so  tedious  as  I 
had  anticipated.  I  enjoyed  not  so  much  the  ruins  and  the 
river  as  I  did  looking  at  the  spot  where  we  were  together 
so  long  ago.  The  "  Hotel  du  Lis "  at  St.  Gear,  where  the 
waiter  threw  down  the  dishes  to  look  at  the  steamboat,  the  old 
"  chatee  "  at  Braubach,  and  the  house  at  Konigswinter,  from 
whence  dear  little  Mary's  letter  of  "  We  are  now  at  Ehine  "" 
was  composed — were  all  visible  before  the  mists  settled  down 
upon  the  landscape,  and  made  it  dimmer  than  the  memory 
of  it,  which  is  still  so  fresh.     It  was  ten  in  the  evening  when 


222  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  VIIL 

we  got  to  Cologne,  and  on  the  following  morning  at  eight 
I  was  on  my  way  in  a  pelting  rain  to  Ostend.  The  weather, 
however,  very  civilly  cleared  up  at  sunset.  I  decided  to  cross 
from  Ostend  because  it  saved  nine  hours  of  rail,  and  only  gave 
three  and  a  half  hours  more  of  boat.  The  sea  also  was  not 
very  rough,  and  I  had  no  sea  sickness,  but,  as  you  may 
suppose,  was  rather  bored.  I  reached  Dover  at  one  in  the 
morning,  slept  there,  and  took  the  eight  o'clock  train  for 
London.  I  had  the  pleasure  of  getting  your  kind,  affectionate 
letter  on  my  arrival. 


To  Br.  0.  W.  Holmes. 

London, 
Matj  I6th,  1858. 

My  deae  "Wendell, — Your  most  agreeable  and  affectionate 
letter  ought  not  to  have  remained  so  long  unanswered.  That 
such  has  been  the  case  is  not  the  fault  of  my  heart,  but  my 
head.  You,  whose  reservoir  is  always  filled  from  the  perennial 
fountains  thousands  of  feet  above  the  heads  of  nous  autres,  so 
that  you  have  only  to  turn  the  plug  to  get  a  perpendicular  jet 
straight  into  the  clouds,  must  have  compassion  on  those 
condemned  to  the  forcing-pump.  I  do  not  mean,  God  forbid, 
that  I  have  not  written  because  I  despaired  of  being  witty  or 
amusing.  Certainly  I  do  not  look  upon  a  friendship  such  as 
ours  as  requiring  any  demonstrations  beyond  those  of  sincerity 
and  steadfastness.  At  the  same  time,  I  have  got  of  late  to  be 
affected — "  but  why  I  know  not,"  as  Hamlet  says — with  such 
a  constant  and  chronic  blue  devilry,  that  I  am  ashamed  to 
write  to  any  one.  Unfortunately,  the  disease  with  me  takes 
the  form  of  pure  and  unmitigated  stupidity,  so  that  it  is  not 
in  the  least  interesting  or  romantic.  You  do  not  know  what 
it  is  to  re-echo  di^ily  poor  Sir  Andrew  Aguecheek's  pathetic 
complaint,  "  Sometimes  I  have  no  more  wit  than  a  Christian 
or  an  ordinary  man/'  All  this  is  intended,  not  as  an  apology 
for  my  silence,  but\^an  explanation  thereof.  I  have  been 
doing  my  best.  I  bpught  six  months  ago  a  memorandum- 
book,  as  big  as  a  ledger,  to  take  notes  of  my  own  conversation, 
in  the  manner  recommended  by  the  original  autocrat  who 


1858.]  LONDON.  223 

reigned  over  us,  consule  Planco,  and  I  have  been  patiently 
hoping  to  catch  myself  saying  or  even  thinking  a  good  thing, 
in  which  case  down  it  would  have  gone  in  black  and  white 
for  your  benefit.  In  vain  I  have  placed  myself  in  the  attitude 
of  Sterne's  portraits,  with  my  forefinger  on  the  bump  of 
ideality,  in  which  attitude,  he  says,  he  verily  believes  he  has 
often  intercepted  ideas  which  were  intended  for  somebody 
else's  brain.     It  is  all  no  go. 

By  the  way,  your  letter  had  various  adventures  before 
reaching  me.  I  was  then  in  Brussels.  My  address  was,  and 
always  is.  Baring  Brothers  and  Co.,  London.  You  had  the 
original  conception  of  addressing  me  to  the  care  of  Brown 
Brothers  and  Co.,  London.  Now  it  is  rather  a  remarkable 
fact,  that  although  there  are  several  persons  rejoicing  in  that 
name  in  London,  the  only  Bro\vns  who  have  anything  fraternal 
about  them  in  the  whole  town  are  some  chairmakers  in  Picca- 
dilly. They  declined  receivii;ig  your  letter,  and  then  it  some- 
how went  back  to  Liverpool.  Some  weeks  later  I  heard  from 
home  that  you  had  sent  the  letter,  and  I  wrote  to  Russell 
Sturgis  (of  the  Barings)  to  help  me  if  possible  to  it.  He  very 
kindly  wrote  to  the  General  Post  Office,  and  also  to  Brown, 
Shipley  and  Co.,  Liverpool,  and  eventually  the  letter  was  ex- 
tricated and  sent  to  me,  covered  all  over  with  very  funny  hiero- 
glyphics illustrating  its  various  adventures.  I  might  have  used 
this  as  an  excuse  for  my  delay  in  answering,  had  I  not  preferred 
making  a  confession  rather  than  an  apology.  Your  letters, 
fortunately,  are  not  like  eggs,  telegrams,  and  things  of  that 
nature,  good  for  nothing  except  fresh,  and  therefore  I  enjoyed 
it  the  more  in  consequence  of  the  difficulty  in  getting  it.  I 
was  much  obliged  for  your  kindness  in  mentioning  ftie  favour- 
able opinion  concerning  me  expressed  by  Mr.  Dorsheimer, 
and  the  fact  gave  me  great  pleasure.  I  regret  to  say  that 
I  have  seen  of  the  Atlantic  Magazine  only  the  first  two 
numbers.  The  reason  for  this  is  that  I  have  been  for  the  last 
six  months,  with  hardly  an  interval,  in  very  out-of-the-way 
and  obscure  places,  where  light  never  comes  that  comes  at  all. 
Nice  at  first,  and  Brussels  afterwards.  I  took  my  family  in 
November  to  the  former  place  on  account  of  Lily,  whose 


224  MOTLEY'S  LETTEKS.  [Chap.  VIII. 

health  was  very  delicate,  but  I  rejoice  to  say  she  has  very 
much  improved,  and  after  establishing  them  there,  I  departed 
to  spend  the  most  solitary  winter  I  ever  spent  in  my  life  in 
Brussels.  I  was  all  day  in  the  Archives,  and  nearly  all  night 
in  my  chamber.  I  hardly  ever  spoke  except  to  exchange  a 
few  brief  signals  with  my  fellow  worms,  who  were  feeding  like 
myself  on  the  carcase  of  the  buried  centuries,  and  the  con- 
sequences of  such  a  solitary  and  Ghoul-like  existence,  was  to 
subdue  my  nature  to  the  condition  of  the  carrion  I  had  been 
consuming. 

I  find  your  *  Autocrat '  (the  first  two  numbers  of  which,  as. 
stated,  are  all  I  have  yet  seen)  as  fresh  and  poignant  in  flavour 
as  those  of  twenty  years  since,  which  is  suJBficiently  high  praise 
as  to  manner.  As  to  matter,  the  substance  is  unquestionably 
stronger,  sterner  stuff  than  in  those  days,  and  will  endure  long. 
You  must  always  have  an  eye  to  their  subsequent  appearance 
in  volumes  by  themselves,  when  of  course  you  can  leave  out 
what  you  think  of  transitory  interest,  and  give  them  the  last 
polish.  I  have  but  just  arrived  in  London,  but  as  this  is 
Sunday  and  I  shall  be  immersed  in  hard  work  from  to-morrow 
forward,  in  the  State  Paper  Office  and  British  Museum,  I 
thought  I  had  better  sit  down  and  have  a  little  talk  with  you 
when  I  was  sure  of  perfect  solitude.  To-morrow  I  shall  get  all 
the  numbers  of  the  Atlantic  and  devour  with  immense  greedi- 
ness first  the  '  Autocrats,'  and  then  Lowell  and  Emerson  and 
Longfellow  and  others,  as  doubtless  I  shall  know  them  all  by 
the  "  twinkling  of  their  eyes."  If  I  meet  any  literary  men,, 
I  shall  not  fail  to  call  their  attention  to  it,  as  unquestionably 
the  best  magazine  in  the  language.  I  hope  when  I  next  write 
I  may  have  something  amusing  to  tell  you.  As  I  said  before, 
I  have  but  just  arrived.  A  young  friend  of  mine  who  is  in 
Parliament  is  going  to  take  me  to  his  club  to-night,  where  I 
hope  to  hear  not  logic  chopped  but  politics  discussed,  as 
they  are  at  the  very  culminating  point  of  a  crisis ;  the  debate 
of  Friday  having  been  adjourned  over  till  to-morrow. 

A  apropos  of  the  Atlantic,  not  the  magazine,  but  the  ocean, 
I  happened  to  find  this  paragraph  the  other  day  in  the 
commencement  of  articles  on  some  subject,  I  forget  what,  in 


1858.]  STALE  METAPHORS.  225 

the  Allgemeine  Zeltung,  and  since  you  have  become  a  German 
scholar,  I  hope  you  will  laugh  at  it  as  heartily  as  I  did. 
"  Seit  der  Entdeckung  Amerika's  ist  die  Geschichte  nicht 
mehr  thalassisch  sondern  oceanisch."  I  could  read  no  more 
of  the  article.  I  was  already  washed  out  of  existence  by  such 
a  world  of  water.  I  suppose  you  sometimes  are  glad  of  a 
suggestion  or  two  of  topics  for  your  ukases  at  the  breakfast 
table.  I  think  you  might  handle  the  subject  of  stale  meta- 
phors for  a  page  or  two  with  much  effect.  Take  for  example 
the  ship  of  state  from  the  time  of  Horace's  "  navis  referent  in 
mare,"  etc.,  down  to  the  last  speech  of  the  member  for 
Milwaukie,  there  has  perhaps  never  been  an  oration  delivered, 
or  a  poem  perpetrated,  without  some  reference  to  that  unlucky 
ship  of  state,  which  always  will  be  getting  on  breakers,  and  to 
the  pilot  who  always  toill  be  weathering  the  storm  as  freshly 
as  if  no  such  allusion  had  ever  been  made.  The  best  of  it  is 
the  satisfaction  with  which  these  metaphors  are  produced  as 
if  perfectly  fresh  and  choice,  and  the  conscientious  manner  in 
which  they  are  polished  up  for  exhibition.  Then  there  is  the 
deadly  upas  tree,  which  has  so  long  poisoned  everybody's 
young  existence,  the  phoenix,  the  dying  dolphin,  and  many 
such  fools  and  fishes,  and  do  say  something  about  that  un- 
pleasant Spartan  boy,  who  has  been  following  us  about,  with 
the  fox  biting  away  his  nether  integuments  from  time 
immortal.  Then  you  may  write  an  imaginary  puff  on  some- 
body's hair  dye,  or  still  better  get  some  living  barber  to  pay 
you  handsomely  for  it  by  merely  changing  a  few  words  in 
Goldsmith's  "  when  lovely  woman  stoops  to  folly,"  ending  of 
course  with  "  is  to  dye." 

There,  I  consider  I  have  given  you  at  least  $20,  for  if 
you  cannot  beat  those  golden  thoughts  into  a  platitude  of 
two  magazine  pages,  you  are  not  the  gold-beater  I  took  you 
for.  Pray  take  all  the  credit  and  all  the  money  yourself. 
I  do  not  ask  a  commission.  Do  not  say,  "  An  eminent 
historian,  now  running  to  seed  in  a  foreign  land,  has  sug- 
gested the  following  very  brilliant,  and  at  the  same  time 
profound  thoughts."  If  you  should  ever  hint  at  my  existence 
again  in  the  magazine,  I  will  never  forgive  you.     I  prefer 

VOL.  I.  Q 


226  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  VIII. 

to  rest  upon  the  verses  in  the  first  number,  of  which  both 
for  the  affection,  and  the  generous  over-appreciation  re- 
vealed, I  shall  be  proud  all  the  days  of  my  life,  and  my 
children  after  me,  and  I  do  not  wish  anything  to  disturb  that 
impression.  I  have  been  running  on  with  a  most  intolerable 
skimble-skamble.  I  wish  I  had  anything  better  to  say.  Pray 
forgive  my  dulness,  and  prove  it  by  writing  to  me  very  soon. 
Give  my  kindest  regards  to  your  wife  and  children.  Also 
remember  me  particularly  to  Lowell,  Longfellow,  Agassiz, 
Felton,  Whipple,  and    others  who    may  remember  me,  and 

believe  me  always. 

Most  sincerely  your  friend, 
J.  L.  M. 

P.S. — This  letter  was  written  yesterday,  but  was  not  sent. 
Meantime,  last  evening,  I  dined  with  a  small  party  at  the 
Mackintoshes.  Thackeray  Avas  there,  and  suddenly  in  the 
middle  of  dinner  he  made  the  following  observation,  not  to 
me,  but  to  his  neighbour  on  the  other  side  of  the  table :  "  Have 
you  read  the  '  Autocrat  of  the  Breakfast  Table,'  by  Holmes, 
in  the  new  Atlantic  Magazine  ?  "  He  then  went  on  to  observe 
that  no  man  in  England  could  now  write  with  that  charming 
mixture  of  wit,  pathos,  and  imagination,  that  your  papers  were 
better  by  far  than  anything  in  their  magazines.  I  expressed 
my  delight  at  his  warm  language,  and  told  him  I  knew  you 
would  be  pleased  to  hear  that  he  had  thus  spoken  of  you.  He 
said  that  he  had  been  so  much  interested,  that  he  had  been 
about  to  write  to  you,  and  I  begged  him  urgently  to  do  so. 
The  opening  observation  had  been  made  by  Thackeray,  en- 
tirely a  propos  des  hottes.  Not  a  word  had  been  said  by  me,  or 
any  one  else  at  table,  of  the  magazine,  or  of  you.  After  dinner 
I  had  a  good  deal  of  talk  with  him  about  you,  and  he  spoke 
with  much  warmth  and  appreciation  of  your  poems  ;  he  praised 
particularly  the  'Last  Leaf  and  '  The  Punch  Bowl.'  I  cannot 
help  thinking  that\it  will  please  you  to  hear  this,  so  I  have 
gone  to  the  expense^  of  a  new  envelope  (price  one  penny),  in 
order  to  mention  it,  kiy  letter  having  been  already  sealed  and 
directed  before  I  wen\to  dinner. 

Always  affectionately  yours, 

J.  L.  M. 


1858.]  LONDON  SOCIETY.  227 

To  his  Wife. 

London, 
May  28th,  1858. 

]\Iy  dearest  jMary, — I  wrote  to  you  last  Sunday,  and 
according  to  my  promise  I  am  now  going  to  send  you  a  few 
lines  to  tell  you  what  I  have  been  about,  although  it 
is  nothing  very  wonderful.  The  place  is  so  large  as  to 
be  an  intolerable  nuisance  to  any  one  who  puts  the  least 
value  on  time,  money,  or  shoe  leather.  You  live  in  half  a 
dozen  towns  at  once,  and  pass  ever  so  many  hours  daily  in 
going  from  one  of  them  to  another.  Last  Sunday,  after 
writing  to  you,  I  went  and  dined  with  the  Sturgis's,  and  found 
them  as  cordial  and  agreeable  as  ever.    There  was  no  company 

except  I and  S .     Late  in  the  evening  I  went  with 

Arthur  Kussell  to  the  Cosmopolitan.  This  is  not  a  club  house, 
but  only  a  club  which  meets  late  in  the  evenings  twice  a  week, 
Sundays  and  Wednesdays,  in  a  large  room  which  is  the  studio 
of  the  painter  Phillips,  in  Charles  Street,  leading  from 
Berkeley  Square.  The  object  seems  to  be  to  collect  noted 
people  and  smoke  very  bad  cigars.  This  evening  I  found 
Mackintosh  there,  and  among  other  men  was  Higgins,  a  gi- 
gantic individual  who  writes  in  the  Times  under  the  name  of 
"  Jacob  Omnium,"  Layard  the  Ninevite,  Stirling,  the  author 
of  the  '  Cloister  Life  of  Charles  V.,*  Monckton  Milnes,  besides 
various  other  personages  connected  with  literature  and 
politics.  I  was  introduced  to  a  good  many  of  them,  and  they 
all  said  civil  things  to  me,  nothing  worth  repeating  to  you,  or 
iu  fact  which  I  remember.  It  is  not  considered  good  taste 
here,  as  you  know,  to  throw  a  man's  writings  very  hard  in  his 
face.  The  formula  is,  "  We  know  you  very  Avell  iu  England," 
"  Your  name  is  very  familiar  to  us,"  "  Your  fame  has  preceded 
you,"  or  words  to  that  efiTect.  It  is  however  a  convenience  to 
observe  that  one's  name  is  more  or  less  kno\vn,  whether  they 
have  read  a  word  of  you  or  not,  because,  as  Tristram  Shandy 
observes,  a  man  is  always  puzzled  if  asked  to  say  who  he  is. 
I  liked  Stirling,  with  whom  I  had  a  long  talk.  He  is  mild, 
amiable,  bald-headed,  scholarlike,  a  Member  of  Parliament 

Q  2 


228  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  VIIL 

and  a  man  of  fortune.  He  is  at  present  engaged,  he  told  me, 
in  a  work  upon  Don  John  of  Austria.  He  is  a  great  friend 
of  Prescott's,  but  we  both  agreed  that  his  Philip  was  alto- 
gether too  mild  and  flattered  a  portraiture  of  that  odious 
personage. 

Milnes  is  a  good  speaker  in  Parliament,  a  good  writer  of 
poems,  which  have  been  praised  by  critics  who  have  roosted  on 
his  mahogany  tree,  a  man  of  fashion,  and  altogether  a  swell  of 
the  first  class.  Layard  is  short,  square,  hirsute  and  taurine  of 
aspect,  as  befits  the  Nineveh  bull,  but  he  is  the  bull  without  the 
wings.  Not  that  he  is  slow  in  reality,  for  the  world  knows  well 
enough  the  indomitable  energy  and  rapid  intelligence  of  the 
man.  Moreover  he  has  rushed  all  over  India  in  an  impromptu 
manner  and  incredibly  short  time,  for  the  sake  of  investigating 
matters  there  and  tossing  the  Ministers  with  his  horns  when  he 
returns,  and  he  is  now  delivering  lectures  upon  the  subject. 
He  told  me  that  he  came  from  Alexandria  with  a  countryman  of 
mine,  Mr.  Sturgis.  This  is  a  brother  of  Eussell,  who  has  just 
arrived  (yesterday)  in  Southampton.  Monday  I  passed  at  the 
State  Paper  Office,  and  I  made  my  first  dive  this  season  into 
the  dead  sea,  in  which  I  have  so  long  laved  my  youthful  limbs. 
I  find  my  secretary  (I  have  three  secretaries  for  foreign  affairs, 
you  know — one  resident  at  Her  Majesty's  State  Paper  Office, 
one  established  at  the  British  Museum,  and  one  in  the  King- 
dom of  Holland ;  and  when  the  salaries  of  all  three  are  paid, 
the  balance  for  the  Home  Department  will  be  somewhat 
diminished) — I  find,  I  say,  my  secretary  quite  satisfactory ;  he 
is  intelligent  and  writes  a  good  hand.  The  price  paid  is  4:d. 
for  wl^at  is  called  a  folio,  which  is  seventy-two  words.  This 
makes  exactly  nine  words  for  one  cent,  which  is  the  highest 
price  paid  for  copying  anywhere.  I  have  just  consoled  myself 
by  writing  out  a  page  of  the  Atlantic  Magazine  in  folios,  and  I 
find  that  tq  copy  that  amount  would  be  worth  about  eighty  cents. 
Therefore,  if  I  am  forced  to  penny-a-lining,  I  can  get  about 
thirteen  times  as  much  for  writing  a  page  as  for  copying  one. 

There  is  an  enormous  lot  of  documents  both  in  the  S.  P.  0. 
and  the  British  Museum ;  but  I  shall  soon  begin  to  see  land. 
However,  I  will  not  bore  you  with  these  details,  which  are 


1S58.]  W.  M.  THACKERAY.  229 

about  as  interesting  to  an  outsider  as  it  is  to  look  at  the 
paddies  digging  the  cellar,  the  cartloads  of  bricks  and  the 
great  puddles  of  mortar  out  of  which  somebody  or  other  is 
going  to  build  a  house.  When  it  is  finished,  and  you  can  walk 
in  at  the  front  door,  and  the  hod-carriers  and  carpenters  have 
all  vanished,  it  is  time  enough  for  your  friends  and  the  public. 
In  the  evening  I  dined  at  Mackintosh's.  The  party  con- 
sisted of  the  Sturgis's,  a  Mrs. ,  of  whom  I  know  nothing, 

except  that  Thackeray  kept  saying,  as  I  learned  afterwards,  all 
dinner-time  to  Sturgis,  "  I  hate  that  woman  ! " — why  she  was  so 
odious  I  have  not  yet  been  informed,  as  she  seemed  as  harm- 
less as  a  dove  if  not  as  wise  as  a  serpent.  The  others  were 
Thackeray,  Lord  Carlisle,  and  myself.  I  believe  you  have 
never  seen  Thackeray.  He  has  the  appearance  of  a  colossal 
infant,  smooth,  white,  shiny  ringlety  hair,  flaxen,  alas,  with 
advancing  years,  a  roundish  face,  with  a  little  dab  of  a  nose 
upon  which  it  is  a  perpetual  wonder  how  he  keeps  his 
spectacles,  a  sweet  but  rather  piping  voice,  with  something  of 
the  childish  treble  about  it,  and  a  very  tall,  slightly  stooping 
figure — such  are  the  characteristics  of  the  great  "snob "of 
England.  His  manner  is  like  that  of  everybody  else  in 
England — nothing  original,  all  planed  down  into  perfect 
uniformity  with  that  of  his  fellow-creatures.  There  was  ndt 
much  more  distinction  in  his  talk  than  in  his  white  choker  or 
black  coat  and  waistcoat.  As  you  like  detail,  however,  I  shall 
endeavour  to  Boswellise  him  a  little,  but  it  is  very  hard  work. 
Something  was  said  of  Carlyle  the  author.  Thackeray  said, 
"  Carlyle  hates  everybody  that  has  arrived — if  they  are  on  the 
road,  he  may  perhaps  treat  them  civilly."  Mackintosh  praised 
the  description  in  the  '  French  Kevolution '  of  the  flight  of  the 
King  and  Queen  (which  is  certainly  one  of  the  most  living 
pictures  ever  painted  with  ink),  and  Thackeray  agreed  with 
him,  and  spoke  of  the  passages  very  heartily.  Of  the  Cosmo- 
politan Club,  Thackeray  said,  "  Everybody  is  or  is  supposed 
to  be  a  celebrity  ;  nobody  ever  says  anything  worth  hearing ; 
and  every  one  goes  there  with  his  white  choker  at  midnight, 
to  appear  as  if  he  had  just  been  dining  with  the  aristocracy. 
I  have  no  doubt,"  he  added,  "  that  half  of  us  put  on  the  white 


230  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  VIII. 

cravat  after  a  solitary  dinner  at  Lome  or  at  our  club,  and  so  go 
do^vn  among  the  Cosmopolitans." 

I  have  strung  these  things  together,  not  with  the  idea  that 
the  observations  are  worth  sending  (except  for  peculiar 
reasons,  the  last  one),  but  because  in  your  solitude  I  think  that 
both  you  and  Lily  may  be  as  easily  amused  as  the  friends  of 
Mr.  Peter  Magnus  were.  This  is  what  mainly  occupies  me 
when  I  go  out ;  the  thought  that  perhaps  I  may  suck  out 
something  out  of  the  somewhat  flat  and  gravelly  soil  of  London 
society,  which  may  flower  into  a  letter  for  your  gratification, 
is  about  the  only  one  which  gives  me  much  satisfaction. 
Therefore  I  beg  you  to  find  the  bouquets  very  fragrant  and 
very  brilliant,  although  they  are  in  truth  about  as  rare  as 
dandelions. 

Thackeray  invited  me  to  dine  next  Sunday  (that  is  to-day), 
and  he  went  off  very  soon,  as  he  confessed,  to  work  at  the 
'  Virginians.'  Lord  Carlisle  was  excessively  civil  to  me.  I 
think  you  have  seen  him,  although  I  never  did.  He  is  tall, 
awkwardly  heavy  featured,  but  much  better  looking  now  than 
as  a  young  man.  His  hair  is  snow  white,  parted  over  a  pro- 
digious bump  of  benevolence.  He  has  been  Lord  Lieutenant 
of  Ireland  for  the  last  three  years,  having  just  gone  out  with 
the  advent  of  the  Derby  Administration.  He  begged  me  to 
give  him  my  address,  saying  that  he  Avas  at  present  absent 
from  town,  but  hoped  to  have  the  pleasure  of  cultivating  my 
acquaintance  on  his  return.  On  Tuesday  I  worked  at  the 
State  Paper  Ofiice.  After  my  return.  Sir  Charles  Lyell  called 
on  me,  and  sat  a  good  while.  He  is  the  eminent  geologist, 
you  know,  and  has  been  often  in  America.  He  was  very  agree- 
able, and  as  Mackintosh  came  in  while  he  was  there,  who  knows 
him  very  well,  we  got  on  comfortably.  By  the  way,  they  have 
had  me  admitted  to  the  Athenaeum  Club  during  my  stay  in 
London.  This  is  a  fepe  building  on  the  corner  of  Pall  Mall 
and  lower  Regent  Street,  and  you  get  all  the  papers  and 
journals,  and  have  the  run  of  a  library  of  thirty  thousand 
volumes,  and  can  breakfast  or  lunch  and  dine  there,  very  well, 
and  at  a  cheaper  rate  than  at  any  hotel.  In  the  evening  I 
dined  again  at  the  Sturgis's.     There   was   a  large  party  of 


1858.]  THE  DERBY.  231 

Ainoricaus.  Afterwards  I  wont  very  late  to  a  small  party  at 
Mrs.  Warrc's.  It  was  a  kind  of  bridal  party,  and  there  was  a 
great  lot  of  very  pretty  girls  in  bridesmaid  costumes.  I  was 
introduced  to  about  twenty-five  of  them.  But  I  am  unable 
to  inform  you  of  the  name  of  one  of  them. 

The  party  was  about  breaking  up  when  I  arrived.  Froude 
(whoso  wife,  you  know,  is  Mrs.  Warre's  sister)  is  not  in  to^vll, 
and  I  am  sorry  to  say  has  got  an  alarming  affection  of  the 
eyes.  I  am  going  to  write  to  him  to  beg  him  to  come  up 
while  I  am  here. 

Wednesday  morning  Mackintosh  came  to  my  quarters  again. 
I  never  saw  such  a  fellow — it  seems  as  if  he  could  not  do 
enough  for  me.    He  is  half  the  time  apparently  in  a  brown 
study  and  oblivious  of  your  existence,  when   he   suddenly 
wakes  up  and  you  find  he  has  been  turning  over  in  his  mind 
what  he  can  do  to  oblige  you.    I  hardly  knew  him  in  America, 
never  met  him  but  once  or  twice,  and  that  a  hundred  years 
ago,  so  I  never  knew  what  a  good  fellow  he  is,  full  of  humour 
and  a  great  deal  of  talent  and  character.     Well,  he  came  down 
to  persuade  me  to  go  down  to  the  Derby  that  day.     This,  you 
know,  is  the  most  famous  race  in  England  or  the  world.     The 
Derby   stake   is  the   prize   for  which   once   a  year  the  best 
trained  three-year-olds  in  the  country  contend,  and  the  horse 
who  wins  it  is  for  ever  famous,  is  worth  no  end  of  money,  and 
puts  fabulous  amounts  of  it  into  the  pocket  of  his  owner.    The 
races  are  on  the  Epsom    downs,  about  fifteen  miles  from 
London,  and   the   Derby  day  is  the   one   holiday   which  is 
religiously  kept  by  every  one  great  and  small,  from  peers  to 
pickpockets,  throughout  London  and  its  neighbourhood.     No 
better  proof  of  its  precedence  over  all  other  sublunary  affairs 
could  be  given  than  by  the  spectacle  which  Avas  presented  by 
the  House  of  Commons  adjourning  over  two  days  on  account 
of  the  Derby,  in  the  very  midst  of  a  Ministerial  crisis  and  of 
an  unfinished  debate,  the  result  of  Avhich  was  to  determine 
whether  the  Government  should  be  overthrown,  and  if  over- 
thrown, whether  it  would  dissolve  Parliament.     The  funniest 
thing  was  that'  the  leading  favourite  for  the  race  was  Lord 
Derby's  horse,  Toxophilite,  and  it  was  very  generally  believed 


232  MOTLEY'S  LETTEES.  [Chap.  VIII. 

that  the  Premier  was  much  more  anxious  to  win  the  "  Derby," 
which  Dizzy  long  ago  termed  "  the  blue  riband  "  of  the  turf, 
than  to  keep  his  post  at  the  head  of  the  Empire. 

I  shall  not  bore  you  with  a  description  of  the  race.  We 
had  a  very  good  position,  and  saw  it  very  well.  The  scene  was 
sufficiently  amusing — the  horses  for  the  Derby  Cup  all  ran  so 
close  that  you  might  have  covered  them  with  a  handkerchief, 
and  it  was  only  by  the  signal  at  the  winning  post  that  the 
spectators  could  be  sure  that  Beadsman  had  won,  and  that 
Toxophilite  was  done,  coming  in  only  second ;  but  I  was  told 
that  the  owner  of  Beadsman,  Sir  Joseph  Hawley,  pocketed 
£30,000  as  the  result  of  that  race. 

We  came  up  to  town  and  went  to  the  Opera  together.  I 
did  not  care  much  to  go  particularly,  as  the  price  of  a  stall 
is  only  one  guinea,  but  I  did  not  like  to  refuse,  and  was 
willing  enough  to  see  the  opera-house,  which  I  had  never 
seen.  The  opera  was  the  '  Barber,'  and  it  was  very  mysterious 
to  know  where  and  how  Alboni  as  Eosina  had  been  able  to 
bestow  her  mountainous  masses  of  flesh  within  the  bodice  and 
the  vest  of  the  costume  oblige  of  the  young  maiden  of  Seville. 
She  did  not  look  exactly  monstrous,  and  she  sang  mag- 
nificently. There  was  afterwards  an  act  of  the  'Eille  du 
Kegiment,'  Piccolomini  as  the  heroine.  She  is  pretty,  petite, 
fiquante,  and  with  most  exquisite  hands  and  arms,  vindicates 
her  rights  to  the  illustrious  name  she  bears.  She  is  rather 
too  fond  of  looking  captivating  and  winning,  and  grinning  in 
front  of  the  foot-lights,  and  her  style  is  altogether,  I  should 
say,  petit  genre.  After  the  Opera  we  went  to  the  Cosmo- 
politans, it  being  Wednesday  night.  There  I  had  some  talk 
with  Layard,  Thackeray,  Milnes,  and  also  with  Kingsley,  who 
seems  to  have  a  stuttering  way  with  him  which  one  would 
think  would  interfere  with  that  eloquence  of  jDreaching  for 
which  he  is  celebrated.  He  is  tall,  rather  thin,  with  common- 
place features,  neither  handsome  nor  the  reverse,  but  seems 
a  good  fellow,  and  entirely  unparsonical.  He  had  not  heard 
of  Fronde's  attack  of  ophthalmia,  or  whatever  it  may  be,  as 
he  is  only  passing  through  town.  Another  young  man  of 
some  eminence  was  introduced  to  me — Lord  Goderich,  a  rising 


1858.]  LORD  AND  LADY  LYNDHURST.  233 

member  of  the  House  of  Commons,  who  made  the  night  before 
last  a  very  neat  and  telling  speech  against  the  Government. 
Ho  was  very  civil  to  me,  and  paid  me  some  very  handsome 
compliments  on  the  D.  K. 

On  Thursday,  according  to  express  and  very  urgent  invi- 
tation, I  went  with  Mrs.  Amory  and  S to  call  at  the 

Lyndhursts'.  As  soon  as  I  got  into  the  room  Lady  L. 
opened  upon  me  such  a  torrent  of  civilities  that  I  was  nearly 
washed  away.  I  certainly  should  not  repeat,  even  to  you,  and 
even  if  I  remembered  it,  the  particular  phraseology.  Once  for 
all,  too,  let  me  say  that  I  only  mention  such  things  as  these 
in  conformity  to  your  urgent  request.  I  would  no  more  write 
such  things  to  any  one  else,  even  to  my  mother,  than  I  would 
go  and  stand  on  my  head  in  the  middle  of  Pall  Mall.  I  feel 
like  a  donkey,  and  am  even  now  blushing  unseen,  like  a  peony 
or  any  other  delicate  flower,  at  the  very  idea  of  writing  such 
trash,  and  I  beg  that  you  will  thrust  my  letter  into  the  fire  at 
once.  Moreover,  I  assure  you,  with  perfect  honesty,  that  if 
you  had  not  been  so  very  desirous  that  I  should  put  my  head  a 
little  while  out  of  my  shell,  I  should  certainly  keep  it  in  and 
pass  all  my  time  at  work,  which,  by  the  way,  is  getting  these 
few  days  past  somewhat  behindhand.  She  then  took  me  in 
and  presented  me  to  Lord  Lyndhurst.  I  liked  him  very  much. 
Although  he  is  eighty-six  years  of  age,  his  intellect  is  un- 
dimmed.  He  has  almost  lost  the  use  of  his  legs,  and  is  wheeled 
about  in  a  chair ;  but  he  goes  down  to  the  House  every  day,  and 
he  occasionally  makes  a  speech,  which  is  neater,  more  concise, 
and  more  elegant  than  any  that  are  delivered  there.  He  must 
have  been  very  handsome,  with  a  decided  resemblance  to  his 
sister,  Mrs.  Greene.  He  wears  a  brown  wig;  has  regular 
features;  is  not  very  unlike  Mr.  Otis^  in  appearance.  His 
manner  is  very  gentle  and  winning.  He  said  some  very  kind 
things  to  me  about  my  book,  and  talked  very  agreeably  on 
other  topics.  They  urged  me  to  dine  there  that  day,  but  I  was 
engaged  at  Mr.  Reeve's.  Reeve,  you  know,  is  the  editor  of  the 
Edinhurgh  Review — a  good-humoured,  tall,  large  Englishman  ; 
Mrs.  Reeve  is  intelligent  and  literary.     There  were  one  or  two 

'Hanison  Gray  Otis. 


234  MOTLEY'S  LETTEES.  [Chap.  VIII. 

Members  of  Parliament  present,  but  none  known  to  fame, 
unless  Mr.  Lowe  ^  be  an  exception.  Friday  I  made  a  call  at 
the  Eussells'.  Lady  William  Eussell,  a  high-bred  dame, 
among  other  things,  informed  me  that  she  was  very  intimate 
with  the  Queen  of  Holland,  and  that  she  wished  to  give  me 
a  letter  of  introduction  to  her.  I  dined  this  day  at  the 
Mackintoshes,  with  the  Amorys,  two  Englishmen — Mr.  Dar- 
win and  Mr.  Phillips — and  Felton,  who  has  suddenly  turned 
up  here  on  his  v/ay  to  Greece. 

Saturday  I  went  down  with  Felton  by  rail  to  Chiswick 
House  to  lunch,  by  invitation,  with  Lord  Carlisle.  He  is 
going,  I  believe,  into  Yorkshire  for  some  days ;  but  as  Felton 
was  only  passing  through  London,  he  was  desirous  that  we 
should  make  a  brief  visit  to  Chiswick.  This  is  a  very  beautiful 
Italian  villa,  with  fine  grounds,  trees,  gardens,  and  conserva- 
tories, which  was  lately  bequeathed  to  Lord  Carlisle's  mother 
by  her  brother,  the  Duke  of  Devonshire.  There  was  no 
company  there;  but  we  passed  a  few  hours  very  agreeably, 
looking  at  the  house  and  grounds,  and  talking  wisdom. 
Lord  C.  is  excessively  amiable  and  friendly,  and  says  he 
wishes  when  he  returns  to  London  to  cultivate  my  acquaint- 
ance, which  he  is  at  liberty  to  do  if  he  chooses;  but  as 
I  again  repeat  to  you,  if  it  were  not  for  your  particular 
request,  I  would  go  nowhere,  for  my  time  is  frittered  away 
into  nothing. 

By  the  way,  I  dined  by  myself  at  the  Athenaeum  Club,  and 
rather  enjoyed  my  own  company.  Sunday,  I  lunched  with 
Sir  Charles  Lyell,  who  invited  me  and  W.  Grreenough  of 
Boston,  wh^o  brought  him  a  letter,  I  believe,  to  the  Zoological 
Gardens.  1  have  done  my  duty  to  that  eminent  institution, 
and  although^  when  one  has  plenty  of  leisure  no  better  morning 
lounge  could  be  found,  yet  as  I  have,  unhappily,  no  turn  for 
zoology,  and  inore  w^ork  to  do  than  I  could  accomplish  if 
every  day  had  forty-eight  hours,  I  could  have  dispensed  with 
the  beasts  on  this  occasion.  I  was  glad,  however,  to  improve 
my  acquaintance  with  the  Lyells.  He  is  a  most  distinguished 
man  of  science,  alid  very  companionable ;  and  she  is  an 
^       *  Lord  Sherbrooke. 


\ 


\ 


1858.]  lADY  BYRON,  THACKERAY,  KTC.  235 

extremely  pleasing  and  just  ceasing  to  be  a  very  pretty 
woman.  Afterwards,  I  went  to  call  at  Lady  Byron's,  who  is 
living  at  her  house  near  Primrose  Hill,  in  Regent's  Park.  She 
is  still  very  delicate  in  health,  but  has  got  through  the  winter 
tolerably  well.  She  is  as  kind  and  earnest  as  ever,  and  seemed 
very  glad  to  see  me.  I  was  much  pleased  to  hear  that  the 
Noels  were  in  to\Mi  for  a  few  days,  although  they  had  at  that 
moment  gone  out.  In  the  evening  I  dined  at  Thackeray's. 
There  were  fifteen  or  sixteen  people.  I  do  not  know  any  of 
their  names.  I  sat  between  Thackeray's  two  daughters.  They 
are  both  intelligent  and  agreeable.  The  youngest  told  me 
she  liked  *  Esmond '  better  than  any  of  her  father's  books. 
Thackeray,  by  the  way,  evidently  considers  that  kind  of  thing 
his  forte.  He  told  me  that  he  hated  the  '  Book  of  Snobs,' 
and  could  not  read  a  word  of  it.  '  The  Virginians,'  he  said, 
was  devilish  stupid,  but  at  the  same  time  most  admirable  ;  but 
that  he  intended  to  write  a  novel  of  the  time  of  Henry  V., 
which  would  be  his  capo  d'  opera,  in  which  the  ancestors  of  all 
his  present  characters,  Warringtons,  Pendennis's,  and  the  rest 
should  be  introduced.  It  would  be  a  most  magnificent  per- 
formance, he  said,  and  nobody  would  read  it.  After  the  ladies 
had  left  the  house,  we  went  downstairs  and  smoked  cigars  till 
into  the  small  hours.  One  of  the  company  I  discovered  to  be 
Blackwood,  the  present  proprietor  of  Blachivood's  Magazine; 
another  was  the  Secretary  of  the  English  Legation  at  Frank- 
fort. He  knew  Bismarck,  of  course,  and  said  there  was  no 
doubt  he  was  the  cleverest  man  in  Germany,  and  that  every- 
body hated  him  in  consequence,  and  was  afraid  of  him. 

The  Thackerays  are  to  have  what  they  call  a  "  drum  "  or  a 
tea-fight  to-night  (Monday).  I  accepted  an  invitation  to  it, 
but  I  do  not  think  I  shall  go,  for  I  am  to  dine  late  to-day  at 
Mackintosh's,  to  meet  Lord  Carlisle  and  Milman. 

This  letter,  begun  yesterday  (Sunday),  has  been  concluded 
to-day  (Monday).  I  shall  write  again  next  Sunday.  I  do  not 
think,  dear  Mary,  you  can  complain  of  a  scarcity  of  details  in 
this  epistle.  I  only  hope  you  may  not  be  bored  by  them.  My 
next  will  be  very  diiferent ;  for  although  you  may  think  from 
this  that  I  am  a  good  deal  in  society,  it  is  not  at  all  the  case. 


236  MOTLEY'S  LETTEKS.  [Chap.  VIII. 

and  after  a  day  or  two,  I  shall  be  entirely  alone  again,  whicK 
I  shall  only  regret  on  your  account,  and  rejoice  for  on  my  own. 
Grod  bless  you,  dearest  Mary ;  kiss  my  darling  children,  and 
believe  in  the  love  of 

Your  affectionate 

J.  L.  M. 


To  his  Wife. 

London, 
May  SOth,  1858. 

My  dearest  Maey, — On  Monday  I  dined  with  the  Mackin- 
toshes. Macaulay,  Dean  Milman,  and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Farrar 
composed  the  party.  Of  course  you  would  like  a  photograph 
of  Macaulay,  as  faithfully  as  I  can  give  it.  He  impressed  me 
on  the  whole  agreeably.  To  me,  personally,  he  spoke  cour- 
teously, respectfully,  showed  by  allusion  to  the  subject  in 
various  ways  that  he  was  quite  aware  of  my  book  and  its 
subject,  although  I  doubt  whether  he  had  read  it.  He  may 
have  done  so,  but  he  manifested  no  special  interest  in  me.  I 
believe  that  he  is  troubled  about  his  health  (having  a  kind  of 
bronchial  or  asthmatic  cough),  and  that  he  rarely  dines  out 
now-a-days,  so  that  it  is  perhaps  a  good  deal  of  a  compliment 
that  he  came  on  this  occasion  on  purpose  to  meet  me.  His 
general  appearance  is  singularly  commonplace.  I  cannot 
describe  him  better  than  by  saying  he  has  exactly  that  kind 
of  face  and  figure  which  by  no  possibility  would  be  selected, 
out  of  even  a  very  small  number  of  persons,  as  those  of  a 
remarkable  personage.  He  is  of  the  middle  height,  neither 
above  nor  below  it.  The  outline  of  his  face  in  profile  is 
rather  good.  The  nose,  very  slightly  aquiline,  is  well  cut, 
and  the  expi^ession  of  the  mouth  and  chin  agreeable.  His 
hair  is  thin  ahd  silvery,  and  he  looks  a  good  deal  older  than 
many  men  of  h|s  years — for,  if  I  am  not  mistaken,  he  is  just 
as  old  as  his  cei^tury,  like  Cromwell,  Balzac,  Charles  V.,  and 
other  notorious  individuals.  Now  those  two  impostors,  so  far 
as  appearances  go,,Prescott  and  Mignet,  who  are  sixty-two, 
look  young  enough,,  in  comparison,  to  be  Macaulay's  sons. 
\ 


1858.]  LOBD  MACAULAY.  237 

The  face,  to  resume  my  description,  seen  in  front,  is  blank, 
and  as  it  were  badly  lighted.  There  is  nothing  luminous  in 
the  eye,  nothing  impressive  in  the  brow.  The  forehead  is 
spacious,  but  it  is  scooped  entirely  away  in  the  region  where 
benevolence  ought  to  be,  while  beyond  rise  reverence,  firm- 
ness and  self-esteem,  like  Alps  on  Alps.  The  under  eyelids 
are  so  swollen  as  almost  to  close  the  eyes,  and  it  would  b6 
quite  impossible  to  tell  the  colour  of  those  orbs,  and  equally 
so,  from  the  neutral  tint  of  his  hair  and  face,  to  say  of  what 
complexion  he  had  originally  been.  His  voice  is  agreeable, 
and  its  intonations  delightful,  although  that  is  so  common  a 
gift  with  Englishmen  as  to  be  almost  a  national  characteristic. 
As  usual,  he  took  up  the  ribands  of  the  conversation,  and 
kept  them  in  his  own  hand,  driving  wherever  it  suited  him. 
I  believe  he  is  thought  by  many  people  a  bore,  and  you  re- 
member that  Sydney  Smith  spoke  of  him  as  "  our  Tom,  the 
greatest  engine  of  social  oppression  in  England."  I  should 
think  he  might  be  to  those  who  wanted  to  talk  also.  I  can 
imagine  no  better  fun  than  to  have  Carlyle  and  himself  meet 
accidentally  at  the  same  dinner-table  with  a  small  company. 
It  would  be  like  two  locomotives,  each  with  a  long  train, 
coming  against  each  other  at  express  speed.  Both,  I  have  no 
doubt,  could  be  smashed  into  silence  at  the  first  collision. 
Macaulay,  however,  is  not  so  dogmatic,  or  so  outrageously 
absurd  as  Carlyle  often  is,  neither  is  he  half  so  grotesque  or 
amusing.  His  whole  manner  has  the  smoothness  and  polished 
surface  of  the  man  of  the  world,  the  politician,  and  the  new 
peer,  spread  over  the  man  of  letters  within.  I  do  not  know 
that  I  can  repeat  any  of  his  conversation,  for  there  was  nothino- 
to  excite  very  particular  attention  in  its  even  flow.  There 
was  not  a  touch  of  Holmes's  ever  bubbling  wit,  imagination, 
enthusiasm,  and  arabesqueness.  It  is  the  perfection  of  the 
commonplace,  without  sparkle  or  flash,  but  at  the  same  time 
always  interesting  and  agreeable.  I  could  listen  to  him  with 
pleasure  for  an  hour  or  two  every  day,  and  I  have  no  doubt 
I  should  thence  grow  wiser  every  day,  for  his  brain  is  full,  as 
hardly  any  man's  ever  was,  and  his  way  of  delivering  himself 
is  easy  and  fluent. 


238  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  VIII. 

At  first,  in  deference  to  me,  there  was  a  good  deal  of  talk 
about  Holland,  Maurice  of  Orange,  Oldenbarneveld,  the 
Archives  of  the  Hague,  the  State  Paper  Office,  on  all  which 
subjects  I  spoke  myself  as  little  as  I  could,  because  I  wished 
to  hear  Macaulay  and  Milman  converse,  to  both  of  whom  I 
listened  with  great  pleasure,  although  neither  said  anything 
very  new  or  striking,  or  which  would  in  the  least  interest 
you.  Then  Macaulay  talked  of  an  old  acquaintance  of  his, 
Basil  Montagu,  who  was  a  commissioner  of  bankruptcy,  before 
whom  he  argued  cases  when  very  young,  and  also  an  editor 
of  Bacon's  works.  "  Bankruptcy  and  Bacon,"  said  Macaulay, 
"were  the  only  things  which  Montagu  cared  for  in  the 
world."  This  was  the  nearest  approach  to  an  epigram  which 
he  made.  Then  there  was  a  talk  about  the  clubs,  and  he 
said  that  Burke,  when  these  were  first  instituted  in  London, 
denounced  them  solemnly  as  pernicious  in  their  tendency. 
Having  his  head  full  of  the  Jacobin  clubs  of  Paris,  he  fore- 
told the  subversion  of  the  English  •  institutions  as  a  conse- 
quence of  such  establishments.  A  club  house  still  existing, 
said  Macaulay,  inspired  Burke  with  especial  horror.  It  was 
set  up  by  some  returned  East  Indians,  was  called  the  Oriental 
Club,  and  may  still  be  seen,  "  a  gaunt,  yellow,  bilious,  mulli- 
gatawny-looking building,  now  in  the  last  stage  of  decrepi- 
tude," yet  this  concern  has  been  considered,  by  so  great  a 
statesman,  as  brimful  of  danger  to  English  liberty. 

Something  was  said  of  Bulwer  Lytton's  project  for  a  guild 
of  authors.  Macaulay  ridiculed  it.  Lytton,  he  said,  has 
constantly  wished  to  interest  him  in  it,  but  he  had  been 
obstinate.  Why,  he  asked,  should  there  be  a  society,  or  guild, 
to  support  and  pension  authors  who  were  unsuccessful?  It 
was  offering  a  premium  for  dulness.  If  a  man  wrote  a  book 
which  nobody  would  read,  why  should  he  be  rewarded,  there- 
fore, with  a  maintenance  for  life?  The  most  extraordinary 
part  of  the  scheme,  too,  was  that  Lytton  had  given  lands  in 
his  own  grounds  at  Knebworth  for  these  destitute  literati, 
so  that  he  was  always  surrounded,  when  at  home  in  the 
country,  with  a  transplanted  Grub  Street.  Moreover,  said 
Macaulay,  these  people,  if  they  have  merit,  are  very  apt  to  get 


1858.]  DEAN  MILMAN.  239 

some  place  or  pension.  There  is  James,  for  instance  ;  he  has 
a  consulship,  has  ho  not  ?  I  do  not  know  how  deserving  he 
may  be  ;  I  never  read  but  one  of  his  novels.  "  He  never  wrote 
but  one,"  said  Mackintosh,  in  his  dry  way,  which  was  the  best 
thing  sjiid  that  day  at  table.  Milman  I  liked  very  much.  I 
had  always  been  told  by  Sir  Charles  Lyell  that  he  had  read 
and  approved  my  book  very  much,  and  desired  to  make  my 
acquaintance,  so  that  I  felt  quite  at  ease  with  him.  He  is 
the  Dean  of  St.  Paul's  (which  is  the  next  thing  to  being  a 
bishop),  the  author  of  the  *  History  of  Latin  Christianity,'  but 
better  known  to  you  as  the  author  of  the  famous  tragedy  of 
*  Fazio,'  with  a  good  deal  more  poetry  of  merit.  He  is  now 
about  sixty-five,  or  even  seventy.  He  is  singularly  bent,  but 
not,  I  think,  with  age,  so  as  to  give,  at  the  first  glance,  the 
appearance  of  extreme  decrepitude.  This  seems,  however, 
purely  a  local  affection,  fbr  his  manner  is  bright,  and  youthful, 
and  genial.  He  has  a  long,  large,  rather  regular  face,  with 
thick  hair,  and  very  black,  bushy  eyebrows,  under  which  his 
eyes  flash  like  living  coals. 

Mrs.  Milman  is  a  tall,  handsome — and  has  been  very  hand- 
some— woman,  very  cordial  and  agreeable  in  her  manner. 
They  invited  me  to  go,  Thursday  of  this  week,  to  a  famous 
anniversary  in  St.  Paul's — the  singing  of  the  charity  children, 
several  thousands  in  number — a  ceremony  which  Thackeray 
declares  in  one  of  his  lectures  to  be  the  most  interesting 
spectacle  which  Christianity  can  furnish,  far  more  impressive 
than  any  of  the  sights  and  shows  of  Holy  Week  at  Rome. 
A  ticket  of  admission  into  the  Dean's  pew  will  give  me  a  very 
good  facility  of  witnessing  the  affair.  Afterwards  the  invited 
guests  are  to  have  luncheon  at  the  Deanery. 

After  dinner  Macaulay  had  a  pretty  severe  attack  of 
coughing,  and  went  home  early.  The  Thackerays  had  a 
"  drum  "  in  the  evening,  and  as  the  Milmans  were  going,  as 
well  as  myself,  they  kindly  gave  me  a  lift  in  their  carriage. 
I  found  at  the  party,  of  my  acquaintance,  IMrs.  Reeve,  the 
Synges,  Mrs.  Sturgis,  Russell  and  Colonel  Hamley.  I  was 
also  introduced  to  Mrs.  Procter  (alias  Barry  Cornwall).  I  do 
not  know  whether  the  illustrious  Barry  was  there  himself  or 


240  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  VIII. 

not.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Blackwood,  whom  I  met  the  day  before 
at  dinner,  were  also  of  the  party,  and  there  was  a  tremendous 
screeching  lady,  who  stunned  the  company  with  Italian  music, 
with  a  voice  which  wanted  elbow  room  as  much  as  it  did 
melody. 

Thackeray  introduced  me  to  Lady  Stanley  of  Alderley, 
at  whose  house  he  is  to  read  the  lecture  to-morrow  of  which 
I  told  you,  I  think,  in  my  last  letter.  She  is  a  tall,  fair, 
agreeable  dame,  with  blonde  hair  and  handsome  features, 
apparently  thirty-five,  yet  one  of  those  wonderful  grand- 
mothers of  which  England  can  boast  so  many,  and  who  make 
one  almost  a  convert  to  the  "  delicious  women  of  sixty."  ^ 
Not  that  she  is  in  any  proximity  to  that  famous  epoch,  but 
she  astonished  me  by  suddenly  saying  that  her  daughter,  the 
Countess  of  Airlie,  wished  very  much  to  make  my  acquaint- 
ance, for  I  had  taken  the  mother  for  quite  a  young  woman. 
The  daughter.  Lady  Airlie,  is  a  very  pretty  woman,  with  a 
rosy  face.  Both  of  them  overwhelmed  me  with  compliments 
about  my  book,  which,  they  said,  every  one  of  their  family 
had  read  with  delight  from  beginning  to  end.  Lady  Stanley 
begged  me  to  be  sure  not  to  fail  to  come  the  next  day  to 

the  lecture.     There  were  also  the  two  girls,  who  visit 

at  Walton,  of  whom  you  heard  Tom  Appleton  and  the 
Sturgises  speak.  I  was  introduced  to  them,  and  they  seem 
lively  young  things  enough.  The  Sturgises  brought  me 
home. 

Next  morning  I  went  up  to  Lady  Byron's,  to  lunch  with 
her  and  the  Noels,  and  we  had  a  long,  quiet  talk  about 
Dresden  times.  They  all  made  very  kind  inquiries  about 
you  and  Lily.  The  Noels  left  London  the  same  day,  but 
are  to  return  after  a  week.  I  believe  Lady  Byron  is  rather 
feeble,  but  no  worse,  I  should  say,  than  two  years  ago.  By 
the  way,  it  will  amuse  you  to  hear  that  Noel  told  me  she 
had  talked  a  great   deal  more   about  that  likeness,^  which 

*  Mrs.  Harrison  Gray  Otis  said  that      Europe    slie    liad    known    "  delicious 
"while    comparatively    young    women      women  of  sixty." 
were  socially  neglected  in  America,  in  ^  Mr.  Motley's  resemblance  to  Lord 

Byron. 


1S58.]  THACKERAY'S  LECTURE.  241 

she  speaks  of  as  "most  wonderful."     At  five  o'clock  I  met 
Thackeray  by  appointment  at  the  AthensBum  Club,  and  wo 
went  together  to  Lady  Stanley's.     The  lecture  was  in  the 
back  drawing-room  of  a  very  large  and  elegant  house,  and 
the  company — not  more  than  fifty  or  sixty  in  number — were 
all  comfortably  seated.     It  was  on  George  III. — one  of  the 
set  of  the  four  Georges,  first  delivered  in  America,  and  which 
have    often    been    read  in  England,   but  have  never  been 
printed.     I  was  much  impressed  with  the  quiet,  graceful  ease 
with  which  he  read — just  a  few  notes  above  the  conversational 
level — but  never  rising  into  the  declamatory.     This  light-in- 
hand  manner  suits  well  the  delicate,  hovering  rather  than 
superficial,  style  of  the  composition.    He  skims  lightly  over 
the  surface  of  the  long  epoch,  throwing  out  a  sketch  here, 
exhibiting  a  characteristic  trait  there,  and  sprinkling  about 
a  few  anecdotes,  portraits,  and  historical  allusions,  running 
along  from  grave  to  gay,  from  lively  to  severe,  moving  and 
mocking  the  sensibilities  in  a  breath,  in  a  way  which  I  should 
say  was  the  perfection  of  lecturing  to  high-bred  audiences. 
I   suppose  his    manner,   and  his    stuff   also,  are  somewhat 
stronger  for  larger  and  more  heterogeneous  assemblies,  for 
I  have  no  doubt  he  left  out  a  good  deal  which  might  jar  upon 
the  ears  polite  of  his  audience  on  this  occasion.     Still,  I  was 
somewhat  surprised  at  the  coolness  with  which  he  showed  up 
the  foibles  and  absurdities   of  kings,  and  court,   and   court 
folks  in  a  former  but    not    remote    reign,   before  a  small 
company,  which  consisted   of  the  cream  of  London   cream. 
They  seemed  to  enjoy  it,  and  to  laugh  heartily  at  all  the 
points  without  wincing.     If  he  had  shown  up  Democracy  or 
Southern  chivalry  thus  before  an  assemblage  of  the  free  and 
enlightened,  he  would  have  been  tarred  and  feathered  on  the 
spot. 

After  the  lecture  was  over,  I  expected  to  slip  away  un- 
noticed, but  Lady  Stanley  came  to  me,  and  talked  with  great 
kindness,  and  introduced  me  to  several  persons,  all  of  whom 
said  I  was  no  stranger,  or  words  to  that  effect.  One  of  the 
persons  was  the  Marchioness  of  Londonderry,  a  tall,  fair, 
very  handsome  woman,  apparently  young,  but  having  a  son, 

VOL.  I.  B 


242  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  VIII. 

just  of  age,  by  a  previous  husband,  Lord  Powerscourt.  Then 
Lady  Airlie  said  to  me,  Mrs.  Norton  wishes  to  make  your 
acquaintance.  I  turned  and  bowed,  and  there  she  was, 
looking  to-day  almost  as  handsome  as  she  has  always  been 
described  as  being.  I  know  that  you  will  like  a  sketch.  She 
is  rather  above  middle  height.  In  her  shawl  and  crinoline, 
of  course  I  could  not  pronounce  upon  her  figure.  Her  face  is 
certainly  extremely  beautiful.  The  hair  is  raven  black — 
violet  black — without  a  thread  of  silver.  The  eyes  very 
large,  with  dark  lashes,  and  black  as  death ;  the  nose  straight ; 
the  mouth  flexible  and  changing ;  Avith  teeth  which  in  them- 
selves would  make  the  fortune  of  an  ordinary  face — such  is 
her  physiognomy;  and  when  you  add  to  this  extraordinary 
poetic  genius,  descent  from  that  famous  Sheridan  who  has 
made  talent  hereditary  in  his  family,  a  low,  sweet  voice  and 
a  flattering  manner,  you  can  understand  how  she  twisted 
men's  heads  off  and  hearts  out,  we  will  not  be  particular  how 
many  years  ago. 

She  said  to  me,  as  I  made  my  bow  on  introduction,  "  Your 
name  is  upon  every  lip."  I  blushed  and  looked  as  much  like 
a  donkey  as  usual  when  such  things  are  said.  Then  she 
added,  "  It  is  agreeable,  is  it  not  ?  "  I  then  had  grace  enough 
to  reply,  "  You  ought  to  know  if  any  one ; "  and  then  we 
talked  of  other  things.  There  was  no  time  for  much  con- 
versation, however.     Presently  it  appeared  that  a  Miss , 

a  young  lady  belonging,  I  believe,  to  the  fashionable  world, 
but  who  rejoices  in  a  talent  for  the  stage,  was  to  recite  ; 
so  she  recited.  It  was  a  passage  from  '  Phedre '  (I  believe). 
Her  accent  was  very  good,  and  she  certainly  declaimed 
very  well.  Afterwards  she  recited  Tennyson's  '  Charge  of 
Balaclava.' 

As  I  was  going  away,  Lady  Airlie  invited  me  to  a  dinner 
for  the  following  Tuesday  (which  is  now  the  day  after 
to-morrow).  Mrs.  Norton  told  me  she  should  be  happy  to  see 
more  of  me.  A  day  or  two  afterwards  accordingly  I  went  to 
call  on  her.  She  received  me  with  great  kindness,  and  was 
very  agreeable.  She  has  a  ready,  rapid  way  of  talking — 
alludes  with  perfect  ajplamh  to  her  interminable  quarrels  with 


1858.]  MBS.  NORTON— MR.  PEABODY.  243 

Mr.  Norton.  She  spoke  of  her  two  sons,  one  of  whom  is  heir 
to  a  peerage,  and  the  other  to  beggary.  She  showed  me  a 
photograph  of  this  second  one,  who  is  evidently  her  darling,  and 
who,  by  way  of  improving  his  prospects  in  life,  married  a  year 
ago  a  peasant  girl  of  the  island  of  Capri.  Mrs.  Norton  does 
not  even  think  her  very  handsome,  but  says  that  he  imagines 
her  .perfection,  particularly  in  her  fancy  costume.  She  knew 
Webster  when  he  was  here,  and  admired  him  very  much. 
She  is  also  very  intimate  with  the  Queen  of  Holland. 

I  do  not  know  that  I  have  much  more  to  chronicle  of  her 
conversation.  She  was  always  animated  and  interesting.  My 
impressions  of  what  she  must  have  been  were  confirmed; 
certainly  it  was  a  most  dangerous,  terrible,  beautiful  face  in 
its  prime,  and  is  very  handsome  still.  Her  two  sisters,  the 
Duchess  of  Somerset  and  Lady  Dufferin,  were  equally  cele- 
brated for  their  beauty,  and  the  latter  for  her  talent  also. 
Mrs.  Norton  told  me  that  she  wished  me  to  dine  with  her, 
and  to  ask  some  people  to  meet  me,  and  is  to  appoint  the 
day  very  soon.  She  wishes  me  particularly  to  know  Lady 
Duflferin. 

On  Saturday,  along  with  fifty  of  my  compatriots,  I  was 
Peabodied.  The  good  old  gentleman,  according  to  his  wont, 
had  made  a  razzia  among  all  the  Americans  now  in  London, 
and  swept  them  all  off  do^vn  the  river  in  a  small  steamboat  to 
see  the  Leviathan,  and  afterwards  to  dine  at  Blackwall.  I 
was  glad  of  the  opportunity,  for  I  am  sure  that  I  should  never 
have  had  energy  enough  without  assistance  "  to  put  a  hook 
in  the  nose  of  the  Leviathan,"  and  I  rather  wished  to  see  it. 
The  company  was  of  course  as  miscellaneous  and  as  unin- 
teresting as  might  be  expected.  The  Leviathan  was  visited, 
and  is  certainly  a  most  astonishing  object.  I  suspect,  however, 
that  the  shareholders  say  with  Christopher  Sly,  "  A  most  ex- 
cellent piece  of  work,  would  it  were  done,"  for  I  believe  they 
are  at  a  standstill  for  want  of  funds ;  and  if  it  cannot  be 
finished  till  the  sale  of  tickets  to  visitors  can  float  it  on  to 
fortune,  she  is  likely  to  remain  a  torso  as  many  centuries  as 
the  Cologne  Cathedral,  and  the  one  just  now  looks  as  likely  to 
make  a  voyage  to  Australia  as  the  other.     I  shall  not  describe 

R  2 


244  MOTLEY'S  LETTEKS.  [Chap.  VIII. 

the  ship.  You  have  only  to  imagine  a  Cunarder  doubled,  or 
trebled  for  aught  I  know,  in  all  its  proportions,  and  you  have 
the  vessel. 

Nothing  is  finished  of  the  state  rooms  or  cabins.  It  is  all 
in  a  clutter,  the  engines  are  not  in,  and  in  short  you  get  not 
a  much  better  idea  of  it  from  a  visit  than  from  reading  a 
description  in  the  newspapers.  The  dinner  was  at  the  hotel 
at  Blackwall.  Mr.  Peabody  had  organised  his  dinner  very 
well,  having  arranged  the  way  in  which  his  company  should 
pair  off,  and  having  sent  the  men  into  the  dining-room 
beforehand  to  find  out  where  each  name,  together  with  that  of 
the  partner  of  his  toil,  was  inscribed.  He  assigned  to  me  a 
nice  English  girl,  who  knew  the  Sturgis's,  Thackeray,  Dickens, 
and  others,  who  was  lively  and  disposed  to  make  herself  gene- 
rally agreeable,  so  it  was  much  better  than  the  rather  dreary 
festival  which  I  had  anticipated.     On   my  other  flank  was 

Mrs.  Charles  Amory.      She  and  S came  into  the  hotel 

at  the  last  moment  from  the  country,  where  they  had 
been  staying  a  few  days  at  Lord  Hatherton's  with  no  end  of 
swells,  and  find  everything  as  rose-coloured  as  usual.  They 
are  very  jolly,  and  desirous  of  pleasing  everybody  and  being 

pleased.     S promised  me  faithfully  to  write  immediately 

to  Lily,  and  I  think  she  will  keep  her  promise.  She 
is  a  very  good  girl,  frank  and  unaffected,  and  very  good- 
humoured.  Joshua  Fisher  and  his  wife  and  daughters  were 
also  of  this  party. 

Hurlbut  has  turned  up  here.  He  was  at  this  dinner.  He 
is  staying  in  the  country  with  Hughes,  the  author  of '  Tom 
Brown's  Schooldays,'  a  book  which  has  had  a  great  run.  Ho 
informed  me  that  Hughes  wished  to  make  my  acquaintance 
very  much,  that  he  was  about,^with  other  literati,  to  establish 
a  new  review,  in  the  first  number  of  which  an  article  on  my 
book  was  to  appear,  etc.  I  go  to  a  party  at  Lady  Lyell's 
to-morrow.  Tuesday  I  dine  at  the  Airlies' ;  Wednesday,  at  the 
Warres'.  Thursday  I  go  to  a  luncheon  with  the  Dean  of 
St.  Paul's. 

p.S. — Monday,  31s^. — I  broke  off  here  yesterday,  dear  Mary, 
not  as  my  angelic  little,  Mary  used  to  say,  because  I  wished  to 


1858.]  LONDON  SOCIETY.  245 

1(1(1  a  postscript,  but  because  I  had  promised  to  make  a  call  at 
I^ady  Stanley's.  I  went,  and  had  a  very  pleasant  visit.  She  is 
an  agreeable  person,  with  plenty  of  talk  and  fond  of  literary 
I)eople  and  literature.  Her  youngest  daughter^  was  there, 
and  was  very  glad  to  speak  to  me,  because  she  had  read  every 
word  of  the  '  Dutch  Kepublic,'  not  from  compulsion,  but  from 
choice.  I  said  I  considered  it  one  of  the  highest  compliments 
I  had  received,  because  if  so  young  a  person  could  read  it, 
I  felt  that  I  was  not  a  bore.  She  said.  Oh !  no,  it  is  just  like 
a  novel ;  and  the  others  said  the  same.  I  feel  that  if  old 
Lord  Lyndhurst,  who  was  eighty-six  day  before  yesterday,  and 
a  very  young  girl,  can  both  read  three  solid  volumes  without 
being  bored,  they  cannot  be  so  very  heavy,  for  two  such 
individuals  may  be  considered  representative  persons.  I  do 
not  say  excuse  this  egotism,  because  I  write  it  on  purpose  to 
please  you.  To  utter  such  things  to  any  one  else  would  be 
the  height  of  absurdity.  Lady  Stanley,  as  I  went  away,  asked 
me  if  I  knew  I^ady  Palmerston.  I  said  "  no  ;"  and  she  told  me 
she  would  inform  her  that  I  was  in  town,  and  would  see  that 
I  was  invited  to  her  next  party. 

Good-bye,  dearest  Mary.  If  I  have  bored  you  unmercifully, 
at  least  you  will  admit  that  it  is  with  the  best  intentions  of 
amusing  you.  I  know  you  like  details,  so  there  are  a  lot  for 
you.  Kiss  my  dear,  dear,  darling  children  a  thousand  times, 
and  accept  the  love  of 

Yours  most  affectionately, 

J.  L.  M. 


To  his  Wife. 

London, 
June  Gth,  1858. 

My  deaeest  Mary, — It  is  a  great  pleasure  to  me  to  sit 
down  and  try  to  amuse  you  every  Sunday  morning  with  a 
record  of  what  I  see,  for  I  most  sincerely  assure  you  that  it  is 
almost  the  only  real  satisfaction    which  I  derive  from  this 

'  Now  Hon.  Mrs.  George  Howard. 


246  MOTLEY'S  LETTEES.  [Chap.  VIII. 

going  up  and  down  like  Beelzebub  in  the  world  of  London. 
I  must  retract  what  I  said  in  my  last  letter  of  not  being  in 
society.  My  only  difficulty  now  is  in  keeping  out  of  it  a 
little,  so  that  I  may  not  entirely  neglect  my  business  in  the 
Archives. 

On  Monday  evening  I  went  to  a  small  party  at  Lady  LyelFs. 

The  Amorys  were  there,  and  Mackintosh,  and  the  Mrs. , 

hated  of  Thackeray,  of  whom  I  spoke  to  you  in  my  last. 
Beyond  these  and  Dean  Milman  and  Mrs.  Milman,  I  do  not 
think  that  there  was  anybody  that  I  knew  by  sight,  and  we 
came  off  before  12  o'clock. 

Just  before  going  to  this  party  I  received  a  very  kind  note 
from  Lady  W.  Eussell,  of  which  this  is  an  extract — "  Lord 
and  Lady  Palmerston  are  anxious  to  make  your  acquaintance, 
and  I  have  taken  upon  myself  the  responsibility  of  venturing 
a  short  notice  of  an  invitation  to  dinner,  as  they  have  but 
that  day  disengaged  and  do  not  like  to  delay  the  meeting." 
The  day  then  proposed  by  them  was  Wednesday,  and  Lady 
William  Russell  was  to  call  for  me  to  take  me  to  Cambridge 
House.   Unluckily,  I  was  engaged  to  dine  at  ten  days'  previous 

notice  with ,  so  of  course  I  was  obliged  to  decline,  which 

was  a  disappointment  to  me,  because  I  knew  it  would  be  one 
to  you.  I  had  never  mentioned  the  name  of  the  Palmerstons 
anywhere,  nor  have  I  in  any  case  since  I  have  been  here  gone 
one  inch  forward  to  any  one,  so  that  when  civilities  are  offered 
me,  I  can  at  least  have  the  satisfaction  of  knowing  that  they 
are  spontaneous,  and  that  if  I  prove  a  bore,  people  have 
nobody  to  blame  but  themselves. 

Tuesday  morning  early  I  received  a  very  'nice  note  from 
Mrs.  Norton,  enclosing  a  card  from  her  sister  the  Duchess 
of  Somerset,  inviting  me  to  a  breakfast  party  at  her  villa 
at  Wimbledon  Park.  The  breakfast  hour  was  from  1  till 
7  P.3I.  The  occasion  of  the  party,  as  Mrs.  Norton  informed 
me,  was  "  the  marriage  of  the  second  daughter  of  the  Duchess 
with  the  brother  of  the  Marquis  of  Bath,  Lord  Henry  Thynne." 
As  I  know  you  are  fond  of  "high  life,  with  pictures,  taste, 
Shakespeare,  and  the  musical  glasses,"  I  thought  I  would  put 
in  this   statement.     I  took    the  rail    accordingly   from    the 


1858.]  PARTY  AT  WIMBLEDON  TARK.  247 

Waterloo  Station  at  two,  and  after  twenty  minutes  stopped 
at  Wimbledon,  where  a  fly  conveyed  mo  to  the  Villa.  The 
house  is  a  modern,  not  very  extensive  building,  placed  in  the 
midst  of  a  little  garden  of  Eden,  brimful  of  flowering  plants, 
with  a  spacious  lawn  dotted  with  magnificent  cedars  of 
Lebanon,  ilexes,  and  other  trees,  while  a  stately  park  encloses 
the  whole  domain.  Beyond  and  from  every  point  there  are 
views  of  the  lovely  pastoral  scenery  of  English  wood  and  dale 
and  hill,  like  which  there  is  nothing  in  the  world,  the  very 
perfection  of  the  commonplace.  The  day  was  cloudless,  and 
would  have  been  hot  for  August  even  in  America.  You  may 
judge  if  the  English  complained  of  the  heat,  and  whether  or 
not  I  was  satisfied  with  the  temperature.  I  found  Mrs.  Norton 
looking  out  for  me  to  introduce  me  to  the  Duchess  of  Somerset. 
This  lady  was,  as  you  may  recollect,  the  famous  "  Queen  of 
Beauty  "  at  the  Eglinton  tournament  a  good  many  years  ago. 
Her  daughter.  Lady  Ulrica  St.  Maur,  is  a  very  beautiful 
girl,  closely  resembling  her  mother,  and  obviously  repro- 
ducing, perhaps  in  an  inferior  degree,  what  the  Queen  of 
Beauty  of  the  tournament  must  have  been  in  the  blaze  of  her 
beauty.  Lady  Dufferin  I  hardly  saw,  although  I  was  pre- 
sented to  her,  for  at  the  same  moment  the  two  sons  of  the  house 
came  up  to  me  and  began  to  talk.  One  of  them,  apparently 
about  twenty,  had  just  returned  from  India,  where  he  had 
been,  not  with  the  army  exactly,  but  a  kind  of  spectator  or 
volunteer.  He  seemed  intelligent  and  very  handsome.  The 
other.  Lord  Edward  St.  Maur,  was  a  very  bright,  good- 
humoured  lad  of  about  fourteen.  He  said  he  had  never  tra- 
velled, but  the  very  first  tour  he  made  he  was  determined 
should  be  to  America.  I  then  went  with  Mrs.  Norton  into 
the  salle  a  manger,  and  while  we  were  there,  a  plain,  quiet, 
smallish  individual  in  a  green  cutaway  coat,  large  yellow 
waistcoat,  and  plaid  trousers,  came  in  for  some  luncheon,  and 
Mrs.  Norton  instantly  presented  me  to  him.  It  was  Lord 
John  Russell.  He  was  very  civil  to  me,  and  we  talked  toge- 
ther for  some  time  over  the  drum-stick  of  a  chicken.  His 
face  is  not  the  least  like  the  pictures  one  sees  of  him.  No  one 
would  suppose  him  the  man  of  large  intellect  and  indomitable 


248  MOTLEY'S  LETTEKS.  [Chap.  VIH. 

ambition,  which  he  unquestionably  is,  by  looking  at  him  or 
hearing  him  talk  in  a  breakfast  room.  I  do  not  mean  of 
course  that  a  statesman  is  always  to  emulate  Burke,  of  whom 
Dr.  Johnson  said  a  man  could  not  accidentally  stop  under  a 
shed  with  him  to  escape  a  shower,  without  discovering  that  he 
was  in  the  presence  of  a  great  man.  There  is  also  something 
preferable  in  this  easy  nonchalant,  commonplace  manner  to 
the  portentous  aspect  on  the  commonest  occasions  of  many  of 
the  "  most  remarkable  men  in  our  country,  sir,"  which  is  apt 
to  characterise  transatlanticism  as  much  as  the  customary 
suit  of  solemn  black  "  in  which  they  are  pleased  to  array 
themselves." 

I  can  hardly  report  to  you  much  of  Lord  John's  conver- 
sation. He  talked  a  good  deal  of  Dizzy's  famous  speech  at 
Slough.  You  ask  me  by  the  way  to  give  you  occasionally  a 
touch  of  politics.  I  would  gladly  do  so ;  but  if  I  chronicle, 
what  I  know  you  will  like  better,  the  little  details  of  persons 
and  things  that  I  purchase  with  my  own  pennyworth  of  obser- 
vation, I  know  you  will  be  better  satisfied.  And  I  really 
should  not  have  time  to  go  into  what  after  all  you  can  read  a 
thousand  times  better  in  the  Times,  which  I  should  think 
you  might  contrive  to  get  in  Vevay.  Suffice  it  that  the 
Derby-Dizzies,  after  it  was  thought  certain  that  they  would  be 
upset  on  the  Cardwell  motion  of  censure  regarding  the  Ellen- 
borough  despatch  business,  have  got  a  little  fresh  rope.  The 
withdrawal  of  that  motion  was  a  denouement  expected  by 
nobody  the  day  before.  Lord  Lyndhurst,  who  at  eighty-six  is 
not  "  passion's  slave  "  nor  party's,  told  me  that  the  Govern- 
ment would  be  in  a  minority  of  eight  or  ten,  and  that  then 
they  would  dissolve  Parliament,  and  have  a  general  election. 
The  truth  is  that  this  threat  of  a  dissolution  is  exactly  what 
saved  the  Ministry.  Parliament  has  been  but  a  year  in 
session,  and  there  are  so  many  members  who  were  so  exces- 
sively disgusted  at  the  idea  of  the  risk,  trouble,  and  expense 
of  unseating  themselves,  and  clambering  back  into  their  seat 
again,  or  ifeiling  to  do  so,  that  they  were  glad  to  let  the 
Ministers  off,  knowing  them  to  be  reckless  and  desperate 
enough  to  try\the  hazard  of  a  general  election. 


1858.]  LORD  JOHN  RUSSELL.  249 

Accordingly  clown  goes  Dizzy  for  tho  Easter  holidays  to 
Slough,  and  after  a  constituency  dinner,  seems  to  have  abso- 
lutely been  made  drunk  with  the  unexpected  chance  of  retain- 
ing power  a  few  months  longer.  He  then  delivered  to  the 
farmers  and  graziers  and  gentlemen  there  assembled,  one  of 
the  cleverest,  wittiest,  most  mendacious,  most  audacious,  most 
besotted  speeches  that  was  ever  made.  He  clapped  his  wings 
and  "  crowed  like  chanticleer  an  hour  by  the  dial,"  without 
apparently  remembering  that  electric  telegraphs  and  steno- 
graphy had  been  invented.  In  a  day  or  two  afterwards,  Par- 
liament came  together  again,  and  Dizzy  recoiled  in  secret  horror 
"  e'en  at  the  noise  himself  had  made."  Palmerston  gave  him 
two  tremendous  dressings  in  the  House  of  Commons,  and  then 
Lord  Clarendon  in  the  Lords  administered  a  most  serious 
fustigation.  In  short,  never  was  a  Chancellor  of  Exchequer 
so  belaboured  since  such  officials  were  instituted.  The  lie 
was  given  to  him  as  flatly  as  the  Pickwickian  rules  permit  by 
Palmerston  and  by  Clarendon,  and  although  Dizzy  defended 
himself  at  first  with  adroitness  and  impudence,  he  was  fairly 
obliged  to  eat  his  own  words. 

Well,  Lord  John  touched  lightly  and  slightly  on  these 
matters  in  his  still  small  voice.  I  said  it  was  a  severe  strain 
upon  an  English  statesm'an  to  remember  that  every  word  he 
uttered  in  public  was  instantly  and  for  ever  to  be  recorded 
even  as  it  fell  from  his  lips.  He  said  if  a  man  did  think  of 
that  he  would  not  be  able  to  open  them.  He  spoke  a  little 
of  the  row  about  the  Cuba  slave  trade  and  the  American 
skippers,  said  that  the  American  and  English  naval  officers 
were  the  best  people  to  settle  that  kind  of  embroglio,  that 
they  always  respected  each  other  and  fraternised  if  the  thing 
were  possible,  that  the  idea  of  war  with  America  could  never 
enter  an  Englishman's  head.  The  triangulation  of  England 
may  be  considered  complete  as  long  as  he  and  Palmerston  are 
both  alive.  Both  mean  to  be  First  Minister  of  the  Whigs. 
Meantime  the  Tories,  without  any  real  principle  of  action, 
keep  the  provisional  government  by  the  equilibrium  esta- 
blished between  the  large  body  of  independents  and  the 
respective  forces  of  Palmerston  and  Lord  John. 


250  MOTLEY'S  LETTEES.  [Chap.  VIII. 

I  was  introduced  to  a  good  many  ladies,  some  of  them  pretty 
and  young.  There  is  no  doubt  that  the  English  aristocracy 
has  much  beauty.  When  I  say  how  handsome  the  women  are, 
the  reply  is  invariable — that  is  a  great  compliment  from  an 
American,  for  everybody  knows  that  the  American  women  are 
the  handsomest  in  the  world.  On  the  whole  I  think  that  the 
grandmothers  of  England  are  the  most  miraculous  race.  There 
are  the  Duchess  of  Somerset,  Lady  Dufferin,  and  Mrs.  Norton, 
then  Lady  Stanley,  of  whom  I  have  spoken  several  times,  the 
Marchioness  of  Londonderry,  and  various  others,  all  exceed- 
ingly handsome  women  still.  I  can  hardly  remember  the 
names  of  the  many  persons  I  was  presented  to.  I  remember 
one,  a  lively,  agreeable  person,  whose  name  Avas  Lady  Edward 
Thynne,  a  daughter  of  Mrs.  Gore  the  novelist.  She  was 
apparently  a  young  woman,  and  I  dare  say  she  is  capable  of 
having  at  this  moment  ten  grandchildren  for  aught  I  know 
to  the  contrary. 

Nothing  can  be  kinder  than  Mrs.  Norton.  She  takes  me 
under  her  especial  convoy,  and  seems  to  think  she  can  never 
do  enough  for  me.  I  feel  as  if  I  had  known  her  for  years,  and 
I  am  satisfied  she  does  not  dislike  me,  or  she  would  not  be 
presenting  me  to  everybody  worth  knowing.  While  I  was 
talking  with  her  at  another  time  she  said,  "  Oh,  there  is  my 
lover,  I  must  go  and  speak  to  him."  She  then  went  up  to  a 
plain-looking  benignant  little  old  gentleman  in  a  white  hat 
and  a  kind  of  old-world  look  about  him  that  seemed  to  require 
a  pig-tail  and  white  top  boots.  She  whispered  to  him  a 
moment,  and  he  came  forward,  beamingly  saying,  "  Delighted, 
I  am  sure,  to  make  Mr.  Motley's  acquaintance,"  and  shook  me 
warmly  by  the  hand.  This  was  the  old  Marquis  of  Lansdowne, 
late  President  of  the  Council.  He  told  me  he  was  deeply 
interested  in  my  book,  and  that  he  had  been  much  instructed 
by  me,  and  was  i;QUch  obliged  to  me.  He  said  he  was  obliged 
to  go  away  immeaiately  as  the  debate  on  the  Slough  business 
was  to  come  up  m  the  Lords  that  afternoon,  but  he  hoped 
soon  to  see  me  ag^in.  My  friend  Lady  Stanley  and  her 
daughter,  Maude  Stanley  (a  pretty  name,  is  it  not?)  were 
there,  also  the  Baronei^s  Eothschild,  who  seems  a  very  good- 


1858.]  HENRY  HALLAM.  251 

humoiired  porsonago,  and  a  great  friend  of  the  Amorys, 
tlirough  the  Lyndlmrsts,  and  a  lot  of  other  people  were 
there.  I  returned  by  the  rail  at  six,  and  was  tremendously 
tired,  to  dress  for  dinner  at  eight  at  Lady  Airlie's.  She  is 
a  very  pretty,  fresh,  rosy  woman,  daughter  of  Lady  Stanley, 
and  married  to  a  handsome,  good-humoured  and  unaffected 
young  Scotchman,  the  Earl  of  Airlie.  The  dinner  was  not 
very  large.  There  were  half  a  dozen  Members  of  Parliament 
there  and  their  wives.  The  lady  next  me  was  rather  pretty  ; 
opposite  was  a  bright,  lively  young  woman,  with  an  intelli- 
gent, sparkling,  piquante  face,  and  a  merry  laugh,  who  was 
Lady  Goderich.  I  was  introduced  to  her  before  dinner,  and 
she  went  away  after  the  coffee  and  ballad  singing  were 
finished.  I  am  however  invited  to  dine  at  her  house  next 
Aveek.  She  was  prettily  dressed,  with  a  head-dress  of  gold 
coins,  and  a  great  string  of  pearls  round  a  very  white  neck. 

Lord  Goderich,  whom  I  have  met  once  or  twice,  and  who  is 
a  rising  man  in  politics,  did  not  come  on  account  of  business 
in  Parliament. 

In  the  evening  came  Lady  Stanley  and  Miss  Stanley  (her 
sister-in-law),  who  knew  Washington  Irving  and  other  veterans. 
Wednesday  morning,  before  I  was  out  of  bed,  I  received  a  note 
requiring  an  answer.  It  was  again  from  Lady  W.  Kussell. 
It  began:  "I  hope,  my  dear  sir,  that  you  are  at  liberty  on 
Saturday  next?  For  if  I  fail  in  this  second  negotiation  I 
shall  never  be  employed  diplomatically  again."  She  then 
said  Lord  and  Lady  Palmerston  begged  me  to  dine  on  the 
following  Saturday,  and  she  concluded :  "  Pray  do  not  tell  me 
that  you  are  again  indissolubly  pre-engaged." 

The  same  forenoon  Mackintosh  came  to  me  by  appointment 
to  go  with  me  to  Mr.  Hallam's,  who  liad  previously  expressed  a 
wish  that  I  should  call.  The  great  historian  is  long  past  the 
"  middle  ages  "  now.  He  is  paralysed  in  the  right  leg,  the  right 
arm,  and  slightly  in  the  tongue.  His  face  is  large,  regularly 
handsome,  ruddy,  fresh,  and  very  good-humoured.  He  re- 
ceived me  with  great  cordiality,  and  we  had  half  an  hour's 
talk.  He  begged  me  to  leave  my  address,  and  I  suppose  he 
means  to  invite  me  to  something  or  other,  for  I  believe  he 


252  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  YIII. 

occasionally  entertains  his  friends.  His  mind  does  not  seem 
essentially  dimmed,  and  there  is  nothing  senile  in  his  aspect, 
crippled  as  he  is.  He  is  a  wreck,  but  he  has  not  sunk  head 
downwards,  as  you  sometimes  see,  which  is  the  most  melan- 
choly termination  to  the  voyage.  His  mind  seems  bright  and 
his  spirits  seem  light.  I  dined  this  day  at  the  Warres'. 
You  know  about  them.  I  like  them  both  very  much.  To  my 
great  delight  Froude  was  there.  He  had  just  come  up  from 
Bideford.  He  looks  delicate,  has  a  slight  cough,  but  is  mainly 
troubled  about  his  eyes.  (The  result,  however,  of  his  consulta- 
tion with  an  oculist  the  following  day,  was  that  the  disease 
was  not  an  alarming  one,  but  would  probably  be  chronic.) 
The  party  was  a  pleasant  one ;  the  house  is  a  large,  elegant 
mansion  in  Belgravia.  I  do  not  know  who  the  company  all 
were.  On  the  other  side  of  me  was  Mrs.  Mildmay,  who 
seemed  an  agreeable  person.  She  told  me  she  would  see  that 
a  ticket  for  the  next  "  Almack's  "  was  sent  me,  which  balls  it 
seems  are  revived  this  season  after  an  immemorial  desuetude, 

as might  express  himself. 

After  dinner  I  was  introduced  to  Lady  Mary  Fielding,  who 
knew  the  Sturgis's  very  well.  The  next  day  I  received  a 
message  from  her  that  her  father  (Earl  of  Denbigh)  was  too 
gouty  to  call  on  me,  but  that  if  I  would  waive  ceremony  and 
call  there,  it  would  be  very  kind  of  me.  So  I  suppose  I  shall 
go  this  week.  In  the  evening  late  I  went  to  the  Cosmopolitan 
with  Froude.  I  had  some  talk  with  Layard  and  one  or  two 
others,  and  met  Lord  Goderich,  who  asked  me  to  dine  Saturday 
of  this  week.  On  Thursday  I  went  to  St.  Paul's  Cathedral,  to 
witness  the  ceremony  of  the  singing  of  the  charity  children. 
This  takesvplace  once  a  year.  I  had  received  a  card  from  the 
Dean  of  St.\  Paul's  for  a  seat  in  his  pew.  The  spectacle  is 
certainly  veryMx)uching  and  impressive.  There  are  about  4000 
children,  mostlySunder  the  age  of  ten  or  eleven.  Arranged 
in  long  rows,  risic^  tier  upon  tier  above  each  other,  and  all 
dressed  in  dark  stuff  gowns  with  white  kerchiefs  and  aprons 
and  mittens,  with  quaint  old-world  starched  caps  about  their 
young  fresh  faces,  they  have  a  very  unique  aspect.  Particu- 
larly when  they  all  rose  ^nd  seated  themselves  as  by  a  single 


1858.]  THE  CHAPTER  COFFEE  HOUSE.  253 

impulse,  tlio  flutter  of  these  thousands  of  white  wings  all 
through  the  church,  with  the  devout  innocent  look  of  the 
thousands  of  child  faces,  and  the  piping  of  their  baby  voices, 
suggested  the  choir  of  the  angels  in  Paradise.  I  do  not  know 
much  to  say  of  the  charity.  It  is  merely  a  collection  of  all 
the  children,  some  of  whom  are  fed,  clothed,  and  educated 
by  various  schools,  which  are  variously  endowed.  But  as  an 
artistic  exhibition  it  is  certainly  most  eifective.  Thackeray, 
who  was  with  mo  in  the  pew,  said :  "  It  is  the  finest  thing  in 
the  world — finer  than  the  Declaration  of  Independence."  After 
the  ceremony  the  luncheon  for  twenty  or  thirty  invited  guests 
was  in  the  deanery,  which  is  a  large  comfortable  house  near 
the  church.  I  like  Milman.  He  is  very  quick,  shrewd,  active 
of  mind,  almost  a  man  of  genius,  a  good  historian,  and  appa- 
rently a  good-hearted,  sympathising  person  altogether.  The 
sermon  by  a  full-blown  bishop  was  remarkably  slow.  I  dined 
with  Thackeray  afterwards.  The  only  people  I  liked  and 
knew  were  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Blackwood. 

Friday  morning  I  went  down  to  the  City  with  the  Amorys. 
I  acted  as  cicerone  to  show  them  the  Chapter  Cofiee-house  in 
Paternoster  Kow,  which  you  and  my  darling  Lily  will  recol- 
lect is  the  place  of  all  others  in  the  world  in  London  which 
Charlotte  Bronte  selected  when  she  came  suddenly  from 
Yorkshire  to  London  to  make  a  two  days'  visit.  The  place  is 
as  gloomy  and  forbidding  as  it  is  described  to  be  by  Mrs. 
Gaskell,  and  certainly  no  house  in  all  the  town  could  be 
imagined  more  forlorn  for  any  woman  to  select  as  even  a 
temporary  residence.  The  alley  is  so  narrow  that  one  can 
almost  touch  the  houses  on  both  sides,  and  the  whole  expres- 
sion of  the  locality  is  disconsolate  in  the  last  degree.  The 
inscription  is  "  Chapter  Coffee  House — Faithful " ;  and  I  asked 
a  man  who  is  there  to  superintend  the  premises,  which  are  to 
be  let,  whether  he  had  ever  heard  of  Miss  Bronte.  "  Can't 
say  I  ever  heard  the  name,  sir.  Was  she  here  in  Mr.  Faithful's 
time  ?  "  was  the  only  reply.  The  slender  furrow  made  by 
little  Jane  Eyre  in  the  ocean  of  London  had  long  been  effaced. 

We  went  also  to  the  beautiful  Temple  church  and  gardens ; 
and  I  thought  of  you,  dear  Mary,  and  the  pleasure  it  gave  you 


254  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  YIIL 

to  see  these  places  when  we  were  together  in  London.  I  went 
afterwards  to  the  Deanery  of  St.  Paul's,  to  call  on  the  Milmans, 
found  them  at  home,  and  they  brought  me  back  to  the  West 
End,  along  with  Mr.  Senior,  an  ancient  writer  on  political 
economy,  and  a  contributor  to  the  Edinburgh  Review.  This 
day  I  dined  by  myself  at  the  Athenaeum.  The  next  day, 
Saturday,  after  a  day  spent  in  the  British  Museum,  I  went  Avith 
Lady  W.  Eussell  and  Arthur  to  the  Palmerstons.  Cambridge 
House  is  one  of  the  finest  mansions  in  London,  not  far  from 
Hyde  Park  Corner.  I  was  received  very  cordially  by  Lord 
and  Lady  Palmerston.  She  is  agreeable  and  well  bred  in  her 
manner,  but  at  present  without  anything  striking  in  her 
appearance.  Lord  Palmerston  is  not  the  least  like  any  picture 
I  ever  saw  of  him.  I  thought  him  a  tall,  slender  man.  He  is, 
on  the  contrary,  rather  short,  and  looks  older  than  I  expected, 
although  I  knew  him  to  be  seventy-four.  His  face  is,  however, 
handsome,  and  his  address  very  gentle,  soft,  and  winning. 
The  features  are  regular,  the  teeth,  if  indigenous,  good,  but 
the  eyes  are  small  and  rather  lack-lustre.  He  had  the  broad 
blue  ribbon  of  the  garter  over  his  white  waistcoat,  and  he 
wore,  what  one  rarely  sees  now-a-days,  a  blue  coat  with  gilt 
buttons.  He  talked  with  me  a  few  moments  on  miscellaneous 
topics,  and  dinner  was  soon  afterwards  announced. 

I  went  to  the  salle  a  manger  with  Mrs.  William  Cowper.  The 
company  consisted,  besides  the  hosts,  of  Lord  and  Lady  Claren- 
don, their  daughter.  Lady  Constance  Villiers,  the  Countess  of 
Tankerville,  Lady  Olivia  Ossulston,  her  daughter-in-law,  a  very 
handsomeV  woman,  Lady  Victoria  Ashley,  Monckton  Milnes, 
Mr.  Laboii\?here,  Monsieur  Duvergier  d'Hauranne  (an  ex- 
minister  of\  Louis  Philippe),  Lady  William  Eussell  and 
Arthur  Eussell,  and  one  or  two  others  whom  I  have  for- 
gotten. The  dining-room  is  large  and  elegant.  The  service 
was  plate,  and  me  dinner  and  wines  very  good,  but  much 
like  all  dinners.  \I  found  my  neighbour,  Mrs.  Cowper,  a  very 
pretty  and  agreeablo  person,  disposed  to  please  and  be  pleased, 
and  the  dinner  went  on  with  the  hush  and  calm  characteristic 
of  these  stately  occasions.  When  the  ladies  retired  I  found 
myself  next  to  Lord  I^^lmerston,  and  he  talked  with  me  a 


1858.]  LORD  PALMERSTON — LORD  CLARENDON.  255 

loiifj:  time  about  English  politics  and  American  matters,  saying 
ntjtliing  worth  repeating,  but  conversing  always  with  an  easy, 
winning,  quiet  manner,  which  accounts  for  his  great  popu- 
larity among  his  friends.  At  the  same  time  it  seemed  difficult 
to  realise  that  he  was  the  man  who  made  almost  every  night, 
and  a  very  late  hour  in  the  night,  those  rattling,  vigorous, 
juvenile,  slashing  speeches  which  ring  through  the  civilised 
world  as  soon  as  uttered.  I  told  him  that  it  seemed  to  me 
very  difficult  to  comprehend  how  any  man  could  make  those 
ready  impromptu  harangues  in  answer  always  to  things  said 
in  the  course  of  the  debate,  taking  up  all  the  adversary's 
points  in  his  target,  and  dealing  blows  in  return,  without 
hesitation  or  embarrassment.  He  said  very  quietly  that  it 
was  all  a  matter  of  habit ;  and  I  suppose  that  he  really  does  it 
with  as  much  ease  as  he  eats  his  breakfast. 

After  we  rose  from  table.  Lord  Clarendon  came  forward  to 
me,  and  was  introduced,  and  spoke  very  kindly  to  me,  saying 
that  my  name  was  very  familiar  to  everybody  in  England, 
and  that  it  was  a  great  pleasure  to  him  to  make  my  acquaint- 
ance. He  asked  me  how  I  liked  the  arrangements  of  the 
State  Paper  Office,  and  expressed  himself  with  much  interest 
concerning  my  proceedings.  He  talked  with  me  a  quarter  of 
an  hour  or  so  very  agreeably.  Soon  after  we  reached  the 
saloons,  of  which  there  were  four  or  five  en  suite,  the  company 
began  to  pour  in,  and  they  were  soon  overflowing. 

Baron  Brunnow,  the  Russian  ambassador,  a  tall  man,  with 
an  intensely  ugly  but  very  shrewd  face,  the  Duke  of  Malakoff, 
a  short  square  figure  with  a  broad  white  waistcoat  and  a  sin- 
gularly coarse  and  brutal  physiognomy,  and  various  other 
diplomats  less  knoAAii  to  fame,  were  there.  There  were  a  good 
many  ladies  whom  I  had  met  at  the  Duchess  of  Somerset's  and 
other  places.  Lady  Airlie  and  her  mother  Lady  Stanley,  the 
Baroness  Rothschild  and  her  daughter,  recently  married  to 
another  Rothschild,  Lady  Lyndhurst  and  her  daughter,  and 
various  others,  with  all  of  whom  I  had  the  usual  vapid  conver- 
sation common  in  the  crush  of  crowded  saloons.  I  was  also 
introduced  to  one  or  two  literary  and  scientific  celebrities, 
such  as  Hayward,  a  celebrated  writer  in  the   Quarterly,  and 


256  MOTLEY'S  LETTEKS.  [Chap.  VIII. 

Sir  Henry  Eawlinson,  the  famous  Eastern  traveller,  and  Sir 
Eoderick  Murchison,  the  great  geologist.  Lady  W.  Kussell, 
on  introducing  me  to  the  last-named  personage,  said  that  she 
was  as  Boswell  said  of  himself  with  regard  to  General  Paoli 
and  Dr.  Johnson,  "  like  an  isthmus  connecting  two  great  con- 
tinents." But  I  did  not  think  the  grim  geologist  seemed  to 
relish  having  his  ancient  stratum  of  reputation  placed  on  a  level 
with  so  recent  and  tertiary  a  formation  as  he  probably  considers 
mine  to  be.  I  do  not  know  that  I  have  anything  further  to 
record  of  this  evening's  entertainment.  I  forgot  to  say  that 
upon  the  forenoon  of  this  day  Lord  Lansdowne  left  his  card 
for  me,  together  with  an  invitation  to  dinner  for  next  Friday. 
The  difficulty  now  with  me  is  to  reduce  my  invitations  to 
order,  for  as  I  often  have  two  a  day,  and  cannot  eat  more  than 
one  dinner  per  diem,  there  is  often  embarrassment  of  choice. 
On  Sunday  I  went  to  call  on  Mrs.  Norton,  and  found  her  as 
agreeable  as  ever.  I  think  she  talks  about  as  well  as  Holmes, 
and  at  the  same  time  has  that  attractive  manner,  low,  sweet 
voice  and  expressive  style  of  beauty  which  has  made  her  so 
celebrated.  While  I  was  there  several  people  came  in,  among 
others,  Stirling,  the  Charles  V.  man ;  and  presently  the  old 
Marquis  of  Lansdowne  toddled  in,  and  sat  drinking  every  word 
she  said  with  great  delight.  On  going  away  he  hoped  I  should 
not  decline  his  invitation,  adding  that  Mrs.  Norton's  presence 
Avould  probably  not  make  me  less  willing  to  be  of  the  party. 

I  dined  with  the  Sturgis's.  The  company  was  Frank 
Cunningham  and  his  wife,  who  have  just  turned  up  out  of 
Egypt,  and  look  very  fresh  and  pleased  with  their  perambu- 
lations, and  Colonel  Hamley.  Afterwards  I  went  for  an  hour 
to  the  Cosmopolitan,  where  I  found  A.  Eussell  (who  begged 
me  to  send  his  particular  regards  to  you),  Keeve,  Layard, 
Mackintosh,  Milnes,  and  others  ;  and  I  am  now,  at  2  a.m.,  just 
finishing  this  long-winded  epistle.  So  good-night  and  God 
bless  you  and  my  darling  children,  dearest  Mary. 

Ever  affectionately  yours, 

J.  L.  M. 


1S53.]  LONDON  SOCIETY.  257 

To  his  Wife. 

London, 
June  13th,  1858. 

My  dearest  Mary, — As  usual  upon  Sunday  morning  I  am 
going  to  givo  myself  the  pleasure  of  sending  you  a  brief 
account  of  my  seeings  and  doings.  I  do  not  think  that  I 
have  a  great  deal  that  will  prove  interesting.  I  say  also 
sincerely  that  the  principal,  nay  the  only,  source  of  gratifica- 
tion to  me  in  being  the  "  favoured  guest  of  many  a  gay  and 
brilliant  throng,"  as  R.  Swiveller  might  express  himself,  is 
that  I  can  amuse  you  and  Lily  with  a  few  sketches  of  people 
and  things  you  may  have  heard  of.  Let  me,  however,  thank 
you  both  for  your  letters  of  June  6th  last  Sunday. 

The  Russells  are  kindness  itself  to  me.  I  like  Lady 
William  extremely,  and  I  feel  sure  she  likes  me,  and  is  very 
fond  of  introducing  me  to  people  she  thinks  worth  knowing. 
I  visit  her  occasionally,  and  she  comes  and  takes  me  to  parties, 
€tc.  I  got  a  note  from  her  last  Monday  morning,  which  I 
would  send  you  if  it  were  not  on  such  thick  paper.  I  think, 
however,  an  extract  from  it  will  amuse  you.  It  begins  thus — 
■"  My  dear  sir,  I  hope  you  will  break  every  tie,  should  you  be 
entangled,  on  the  15th,  and  accept  the  enclosed  invitation  from 
my  friend,  who  tried  with  me  to  find  you  at  Lady  Palmerston's. 
The  dinner  will  be  pleasant,  and  Lord  Brougham,  who  will  be 
there,  pants  to  make  your  acquaintance.  I  saw  him  no  less 
than  three  times  in  one  day,  et  chaque  fois  il  etait  question 
de  vous,"  etc.,  with  a  good  deal  more  in  the  same  vein.  The 
card  is  from  Lady  Williamsl  (wife  or  widow,  I  do  not  know 
•which,  of  one  of  the  judges),  and  takes  place  day  after  to- 
morrow. 

To  resume  my  week's  small  beer.  On  Monday  I  worked 
pretty  hard  all  day  (which  is  very  apt  not  to  be  the  case,  my 
time  is  so  cut  up  with  breakfasts,  luncheons,  etc.)  at  the  State 
Paper  OflSce.  In  the  afternoon  I  went  down  with  the  Sturgises, 
Hamley,  and  the  Blackwoods,  to  a  dinner  at  Richmond.  I 
did  not  care  much  for  it,  as  I  was  not  much  disposed  to  be 
merry,  and  I  feel  very  unhappy  and   depressed,  more  than 

VOL.  I.  S 


258  MOTLEY'S  LETTEKS.  [Chap.  VIII. 

tongue  can  tell,  about  my  dear  mother.  If  I  were  amusing 
myself  here  in  London,  and  if  going  to  dinners  were  what  it 
is  to  so  many,  what  it  might  have  been  to  me  at  twenty-five, 
an  excitement  and  a  pastime,  I  should  reproach  myself.  But 
I  do  it  with  deliberation,  and  at  a  great  sacrifice  to  my  own 
feelings,  because  I  believe  it  to  be  as  it  were  my  duty,  being 
here  in  London,  and  Avith  every  door  opened  to  me  even 
without  knocking,  to  see  something  and  only  once  for  all  of 
English  society. 

There  is  nothing  to  say  of  this  Eichmond  dinner.  The 
Sturgises  and  Hamley  were  as  gay  and  amusing  as  ever,  and 
the  Blackwoods  are  quiet,  simple,  intelligent  people  whom  I 
like  very  much.  I  think  I  told  you  that  he  is  both  proprietor 
and  editor  of  the  famous  magazine  established  by  his  father. 
On  Tuesday  there  was  a  dinner  at  Lady  Stanley's  of  Alderley. 
I  think  it  was  rather  made  for  me  than  otherwise.  The  com- 
pany was,  besides  the  Stanleys,  their  married  daughter  and 
her  husband.  Lord  Airlie,  Lord  Strangford,  a  young  man  who 
has  been  much  in  the  East,  and  who  is  a  very  good  Oriental 
scholar,  and  son  of  Lord  Strangford,  who  translated  the  '  Lusiad* 
of  Camoens,  Lady  Palmerston,  her  daughter  Lady  Shaftesbury  ^ 
Lord  Lyndhurst,  Lord  Brougham,  Lord  and  Lady  Stratford 
de  Eedcliffe. 

Lord  Lyndhurst,  who  has  very  much  lost  the  use  of  his  legs, 
but  not  of  his  brains,  did  not  come  up  in  the  drawing-room. 
I  was  introduced  to  Lord  Brougham  before  dinner.  He  shook 
hands  cordially,  and  expressed  himself  as  glad  to  make  my 
acquaintance,  but  he  did  not  seem  to  "  pant"  so  much  as  might 
have  been  expected.  We  soon  went  to  dinner,  and  his  place 
was  at  the  opposite  end  of  the  table  from  mine,  so  that  our  ac- 
quaintance for  the  present  is  limited.  I  have  no  doubt  I  shall 
see  more  of  hipi,  but  to  tell  you  the  truth  I  fear  he  is  a  mere 
wreck.  Let  m^  give  you  a  photograph,  while  his  grotesque 
image  still  lingers  in  the  camera-obscura  of  my  brain.  He  is 
exactly  like  the  pictures  in  Punch,  only  Punch  flatters  him. 
The  common  pictures  of  Palmerston  and  Lord  John  are  not 
like  at  all  to  my  mind,  but  Brougham  is  always  hit  exactly. 
His  face,  like  his  tongue   and  his   mind,  is   shrewd,  sharj). 


1858.]  LYNDHTJRST  AND  BROUGHAM.  259 

Inimorous.  His  hair  is  thick  and  snow-white  and  shiny ;  his 
head  is  largo  and  knobby  and  bumpy,  with  all  kinds  of 
phrenological  developments,  which  I  did  not  have  a  chance 
fairly  to  study.  The  rugged  outlines  or  headlands  of  his  face 
are  wild  and  bleak,  but  not  forbidding.  Deep  furrows  of  age 
and  thought  and  toil,  perhaps  of  sorrow,  run  all  over  it,  while 
his  vast  mouth,  with  a  ripple  of  humour  ever  playing  around 
it,  expands  like  a  placid  bay  under  the  huge  promontory  of 
his  fantastic  and  incredible  nose.  His  eye  is  dim  and  could 
never  have  been  brilliant,  but  his  voice  is  rather  shrill,  with  an 
unmistakable  northern  intonation ;  his  manner  of  speech  is 
fluent,  not  garrulous,  but  obviously  touched  by  time  ;  his  figure 
is  tall,  slender,  shambling,  awkward,  but  of  course  perfectly 
self-possessed.  Such  is  what  remains  at  eighty  of  the  famous 
Henry  Brougham. 

My  place  at  table  was  between  Lady  Stanley  and  the  pretty 
Countess  of  Airlie,  her  daughter;  on  her  right  sat  Lord 
Stratford  de  Redcliffe,  and  at  the  other  end  of  the  table  on 
each  side  of  Lord  Stanley  were  Brougham  and  Lyndhurst.  I 
have  already  described  Lyndhurst.  When  sitting  down  he 
appears  younger  than  Brougham,  although  really  six  years 
older  (he  was  eighty-six  last  week) ;  his  voice  is  silvery  and 
his  manner  very  suave  and  gentle.  The  company  was  too 
large  for  general  conversation,  but  every  now  and  then  we  at 
our  end  paused  to  listen  to  Brougham  and  Lyndhurst  chaffing 
each  other  across  the  table.  Lyndhurst  said,  "Brougham, 
you  disgraced  the  woolsack  by  appearing  there  with  those 
plaid  trousers,  and  with  your  peer's  robe  on  one  occasion 
put  on  over  your  chancellor's  gown."  "  The  devil ! "  said 
.  Brougham,  "  you  know  that  to  be  a  calumny ;  I  never  wore  the 
plaid  trousers."  "  Well,"  said  Lyndhurst,  "  he  confesses  the 
two  gowns.  Now  the  present  Lord  Chancellor  never  appears 
except  in  small  clothes  and  silk  stockings."  Upon  which 
Lady  Stanley  observed  that  the  ladies  in  the  gallery  all 
admired  Lord  Chelmsford  for  his  handsome  leg.  "  A  virtue 
that  was  never  seen  in  you.  Brougham,"  said  Lyndhurst,  and 
so  on.  I  do  not  repeat  these  things  because  they  are  worth 
recording,  but  because  I  always  try  to  Boswellize  a  little  for 

s  2 


2P0  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  VIII. 

your  entertainment.  All  dinner-time,  Lord  Lyndhurst's 
servant,  who  came  with  him,  stood  behind  him,  allowing  him  to 
eat  only  the  dishes  which  he  selected  for  him,  and  seeming 
very  much  like  the  Doctor  who  stood  behind  Sancho  Panza, 
when  governor  of  Barataria,  and  perpetually  waved  away  the 
dishes  which  that  functionary  was  inclined  to  devour. 

Lord  Lyndhurst  is  always  very  kind  and  attentive  to  me. 
He  called  out  to  me  in  the  old-fashioned  way  to  drink  wine  with 
him  at  table,  and  after  dinner  both  he  and  Brougham  addressed 
a  good  deal  of  the  conversation,  which  turned  on  American 
matters,  slave  trade,  etc.,  to  me,  and  you  may  be  sure  that  I 
was  glad  to  speak  my  mind  on  those  subjects.  I  told  them, 
however,  that  the  English  were  doing  a  great  deal  of  damage 
and  no  good,  by  the  utterly  indefensible  and  insolent  conduct 
of  the  petty  officers  in  the  West  Indian  seas.  There  is  no 
doubt  that  all  this  will  be  speedily  put  an  end  to,  for  the 
English  are  very  anxious  to  avoid  any  quarrel  with  America 
as  well  as  not  to  furnish  us  with  any  additional  pretext  for 
taking  Cuba.  I  liked  Lord  Stratford  de  Kedcliife  very  much. 
He  is  the  man,  you  know,  who  has  been  so  long  ambassador  in 
Constantinople,  and  doubtless  stands  at  the  head  of  English 
diplomacy.  He  is  a  tall,  thin  man,  with  a  handsome,  distin- 
guished face,  bald  and  grey,  advanced  in  the  soixantaine,  with 
perfectly  simple,  unpretending  manners.  I  had  imagined, 
from  the  accounts  of  him,  a  tremendous  swell,  with  much 
pomp  and  circumstance.  He  talked  with  me  a  good  deal 
during  dinner,  and  when  we  went  to  the  drawing-room,  he 
requested  a  formal  introduction,  and  conversed  half  an  hour 
with  me.  He  had  been  in  former  times  minister  in  America, 
and  among  other  people  he  remembered  very  well  John 
Quincy  Adams  and  Mr.  Otis.  He  told  me  he  should  like  to 
cultivate  my  acquaintance  while  I  was  in  England,  and  I 
suppose  I  ought  to  call  on  him,  as  he  is  an  ex-ambassador  and 
as  he  cannot  know  where  I  live.  I  have  not  yet  done  so, 
however,  as  I  cannot  meet  people  even  half-way.  Mrs.  Norton 
took  me  severely  to  task  for  making  old  Lord  Lansdowne  call 
first  on  me,  saying  that  I  had  no  business  to  give  him  the 
trouble  to  send  word  to  inquire  my  address,  which  he  had  been 


1858.]  THE  HOUSE  OF  COMMONS.  261 

obliged  to  do.  Lord  Lyndhurst,  on  account  of  his  leg-less 
condition,  did  not  come  upstairs,  and  Lord  Brougham  stayed 
down  with  him  to  talk  of  some  bill,  soon  to  bo  brought  into 
the  Lords,  so  that  neither  came  above  the  horizon  that  night. 

Wednesday. — As  I  had  resolved,  according  to  your  wish,  to 
refuse  no  invitations  to  sit  at  "  good  men's  feasts,"  I  had 
accepted  an  invitation  to  a  dejeuner  at  Lord  Carlisle's  at 
Chiswick  House.  There  was  a  great  flower  show  at  the  Horti- 
cultural Gardens,  which  are  near  Lord  Carlisle's  house,  and 
he  had  taken  the  opportunity  to  make  a  small  party.  About 
thirty  people  sat  down  at  2.30  o'clock.  I  had  hoped  that  the 
Duchess  of  Sutherland  would  be  there  ;  she  was  not,  and  unless 
Lord  Carlisle  comes  to  town  I  am  afraid  I  shall  not  see  her. 
Her  daughter  Lady  Blantyre  was  there.  I  went  to  table  with 
Lord  Carlisle's  sister,  Lady  Dover.  There  was  also  the  family 
of  Hamilton  Fish  of  New  York.  I  have  a  curiosity  to  see  the 
Duchess  of  Sutherland  on  account  of  her  high  reputation,  but 
I  do  not  like  to  ask  for  an  introduction,  and  prefer  to  wait  till 
I  am  bumped  in  her  direction  in  the  general  maelstrom  of 
London  society.  Mackintosh  was  there,  but  not  his  wife,  and 
with  that  exception  I  cannot  tell  you  the  names  of  the  people. 
They  were  doubtless  all  swells,  but  I  doubt  if  there  were  any 
celebrities. 

On  Thursday  I  worked  all  day  at  the  State  Paper  Office, 
and  dined  en  famille  with  Thackeray,  whom  I  happened  to 
meet  the  evening  before  at  the  Athenaeum.  He  has  been  very 
friendly  to  me ;  I  believe  him  to  be  very  kindhearted  and 
benevolent.  His  eldest  daughter  I  like  very  much.  When  I 
came  home  in  the  evening  I  found  an  invitation  from  Lady 
Palmerston  for  the  same  night.  It  had  been  overlooked  or 
mislaid  or  something,  and  was  marked  "  immediate,"  but  it 
was  too  late  for  me,  fatigued  as  I  was,  to  go.  I  suppose  there 
will  be  another  next  Saturday. 

On  Friday  afternoon  I  went  into  the  Athenaeum  for  a 
sandwich,  and  there  I  met  Milnes,  who  asked  me  to  breakfast 
next  Wednesday.  He  also  asked  me  to  go  down  to  the  House 
with  him,  which  I  was  willing  to  do  for  an  hour  or  two, 
although  I  was  to  dine  at  eight.    When  you  are  introduced 


262  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  VIII. 

by  a  member  you  are  seated  in  the  House  itself  in  some  very 
good  seats  reserved  for  members  of  the  other  House  and  "  illus- 
trious foreigners,"  so  that  you  hear  the  debates  quite  as  well 
as  the  M.P.'s  themselves.  For  such  a  brief  visit  I  made  rather 
a  good  hit.  The  testy  old  Admiral  Napier  had  just  been 
asking  some  questions  about  the  defences  of  England,  and 
Dizzy  then  got  up  to  reply.  In  the  course  of  his  speech, 
which  was  about  twenty  minutes,  he  made  the  announcement, 
new  to  most  people,  that  the  Cagliari  question  had  been  settled 
so  satisfactorily.  This  is  another  piece  of  good  fortune  in  the 
run  of  luck  which  the  Ministers  have  been  having.  It  was  not 
new  to  me,  for  we  had  happened,  as  we  walked  down,  to  meet 
Delane,  editor  of  the  Times,  who  had  mentioned  the  circum- 
stance. Dizzy's  manner  was  calm  on  this  occasion,  statesman- 
like and  very  different  from  the  boisterous  and  declamatory 
style  adopted  by  him  the  other  day  in  his  speech  at  Slough. 
He  expresses  himself  with  considerable  fluency  for  an  English- 
man, the  most  eloquent  of  whom  are  so  apt  to  "  stick  on  con- 
versation's burrs." 

Afterwards  Bright  made  a  few  remarks.  He  is  one  of  the 
favourites  of  the  House,  belonging  to  the  branch  of  that 
extreme  Liberal  party  which  has  taken  the  present  Ministers 
under  its  protection,  to  annoy  Palmerston  on  the  one  side  and 
Lord  John  on  the  other.  It  was  quite  amusing  to  see  him 
patting  Disraeli  on  the  head  from  the  Opposition  benches. 
His  manner  is  easy,  conversational,  slightly 'humorous,  rather 
fluent.  The  whole  style  of  thing  is  very  different  in  Parlia- 
ment from  the  American  way  of  proceeding  in  Congress  or 
State  Legislatures.  Everything  here  is  toned  down  to  a  gentle 
business-like  mediocrity.  The  invisible  but  most  omnipotent 
demon  of  good  taste  which  presides  over  the  English  world, 
social,  political,  and  moral,  hangs  over  the  heads  of  the  legis- 
lators and  suppresses  their  noble  rage.  The  consequence  is 
that  eloquence  is  almost  impossible.  Nobody  drinks  up  Esel 
or  eats  crocodiles,  but  at  the  same  time  a  good  deal  of  passion 
and  rhetoric,  which  might  occasionally  explode  to  advantage, 
is  for  ever  sealed  ^ip.  I  doubt  whether  Sheridan  or  Burke  in 
this  age  would  not;  find  the  genial  current  of  their  soul  to  be 

\ 

\ 


1858.]  DINNER  AT  LANSDOWNE  HOUSE.  263 

ijozen  by  this  clear  cold  atmospliero  of  good  taste  which 
iioagulates  the  common  talk  of  Euglishmon,  however  wise  or 
witty. 

I  was  obliged  to  come  away  very  early  to  dress  for  dinner 
:it  Lansdowne  House.  You  remember  the  place  which  is  on 
the  opposite  side  of  Berkeley  Square  to  Thomas's  hotel  and 
inside  a  brick  wall.  (By  the  way,  the  Airlies  live  next  door  to 
Thomas's.)  The  house  for  London  is  spacious  and  splendid, 
the  reception-rooms  and  dining-room  being  on  the  groimd 
floor.  I  should  think  the  dining-room  was  about  50  feet 
by  25,  and  well  proportioned  as  to  height.  There  are  many 
statues  about  it.  The  hostess  at  Lansdowne  House  is  his 
daughter-in-law,  Lady  Shelburne,  who  is  pretty  and  pleasing. 
The  company  consisted  of  Mrs.  Norton,  Dean  Milman  and 
his  wife,  Lord  Macaulay,  Lady  Dufferin  and  her  son  Lord 
Dufferin,  Hayward,  Miss  Thellusson,  and  a  gentleman  whose 
name  I  did  not  hear.  Rather  a  small  party  for  so  large 
a  room.  I  had  on  my  left  the  young  lady  who  declaimed 
so  vigorously  at  Lady  Stanley's,  and  who  is  intelligent 
and  agreeable.  On  my  right  I  had  the  good  luck  to  have 
Lady  Dufferin,  whom  before  I  had  hardly  seen.  She  is 
extremely  agreeable,  full  of  conversation,  with  a  charming 
manner,  and  has  or  had  almost  as  much  beauty  and  almost 
as  much  genius  as  her  sister  Mrs.  Norton,  with  a  far  better 
fate.  At  table  by  wax-light  she  looked  very  handsome,  with 
a  wreath  of  white  roses  on  her  black  hair ;  while  her  son,  a 
very  handsome  youth  of  near  thirty,  sat  near  her  looking  like 
her  brother.  Hallam's  '  Middle  Ages '  ought  to  be  a  classic  work 
in  England  certainly,  for  there  is  no  country  in  the  world  in 
which  that  epoch  is  so  triumphant.  The  grandmothers  of  Eng- 
land seem  almost  as  young  as  the  mothers.  Lady  Dufferin  has, 
I  believe,  never  published,  but  she  is  perpetually  wTiting  vers 
de  societe,  prologues  for  private  theatricals,  songs  and  impromp- 
tus. Mrs.  Norton's  '  Miss  Myrtle  is  going  to  marry  *  and  *  So 
80,  Sir,  you  have  come  at  last,'  are  as  familiar,  as  you  know 
very  well,  as  Percy's  *  Ballads.'  Her  son  told  me  that  Lord 
Palmerston  once  quoted  a  verse  of  "  the  charming  woman," 
saying,  "  as  the  old  song  says,"  which  was  not  particularly  com- 


264  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  YIIL 

plimentary  to  the  woman,  however  agreeable  it  might  have 
been  to  the  poetess. 

She  made  herself  very  agreeable  all  dinner-time.  I  told 
her  I  had  just  heard  Disraeli  speak.  She  said  she  had  always 
known  him  and  liked  him  in  spite  of  his  tergiversations  and 
absurdities.  When  he  was  very  young  and  had  made  his 
first  appearance  in  London  society  as  the  author  of  '  Vivian 
Grey,'  there  was  something  almost  incredible  in  his  aspect. 
She  assured  me  that  she  did  not  exaggerate  in  the  slightest 
degree  in  describing  to  me  his  dress  when  she  first  met  him 
at  a  dinner  party.  He  wore  a  black  velvet  coat  lined  with 
satin,  purple  trousers  with  a  gold  band  running  down  the 
outside  seam,  a  scarlet  waistcoat,  long  lace  ruffles  falling  down 
to  the  tips  of  his  fingers,  white  gloves  with  several  brilliant 
rings  outside  them,  and  long  black  ringlets  rippling  down  upon 
his  shoulders.  It  seemed  impossible  that  such  a  Guy  Fawkes 
could  have  been  tolerated  in  any  society.  His  audacity, 
which  has  proved  more  perennial  than  brass,  was  always  the 
solid  foundation  of  his  character.  She  told  him,  however,  that 
he  made  a  fool  of  himself  by  appearing  in  such  fantastic  shape, 
and  he  afterwards  modified  his  costume,  but  he  was  never 
to  be  put  down.  She  gave  me  another  anecdote  of  him.  "  He 
was  once  dining,"  said  jLady  Dufierin,  "  with  my  insufferable 
brother-in-law,  Mr.  Norton  (of  course  long  before  the  separa- 
tion), when  the  host  begged  him  to  drink  a  particular  kind  of 
wine,  saying  he  had  never  tasted  anything  so  good  before. 
Disraeli  agreed  that  the  wine  was  very  go©d.  '  Well,'  said 
I^orton,  *  I  have  got  wine  twenty  times  as  good  in  my  cellar.^ 
'No  doubt,  no  doubt,'  said  Dizzy,  looking  round  the  table,, 
'but,  my  dear  fellow,  this  is  quite  good  enough  for  such 
canaille  as  you  have  got  to-day.'  Everybody  saw  that  the 
remark  was  intended  as  a  slap  for  Mr.  Norton,  except  that 
individual  himself,  who  was  too  obtuse  to  feel  it." 

I  do  not  know  that  I  have  anything  more  to  record  of 
this  dinner.  Macaulay  was  too  far  off  for  me  to  hear  much 
of  his  talk  till  the  ladies  retired,  although  I  observed  very 
few  of  those  brilliant  "  flashes  of  silence  in  his  conversation  '* 
to  which  Sydney  Smith  once  alluded.    After  dinner,  the  con- 


1858.]  LAN8D0WNE  HOUSE.  265 

versation  was  miscellaneous,  but  Hayward,  who  is  a  Quarterly 
Ive viewer  of  some  reputation  and  a  diner-out,  got  into  an 
argument  with  Macaulay  about  sculpture  and  painting,  and 
the  whole  apple-cart  of  conversation  was  upset.  Milman 
was  agreeable,  as  ho  always  is,  and  so  was  Macaulay.  Old 
Lord  Lansdowne  sat  beaming  and  genial  in  the  centre  of 
his  system,  and  had  evidently  acquired  a  good  deal  of  fresh 
warmth  and  radiance  from  Mrs.  Norton,  who  sat  next  him,  and 
had  been  looking  handsomer  than  I  ever  saw  her  before.  She 
was  dressed  in  white,  and  from  the  end  of  the  table  where  I 
sat  it  would  have  required  a  very  powerful  telescope  to  dis- 
cover that  she  had  passed  thirty.  Before  we  went  away, 
Milman  invited  me  next  week  to  breakfast  with  Macaulay. 
He  had  again  a  violent  fit  of  coughing  just  before  he  went  to 
the  drawing-room,  but  it  seemed  to  me  of  an  asthmatic  cha- 
racter. He  went  away  early,  and  I  departed  about  eleven. 
Next  afternoon  I  drove  out  with  the  Amorys  to  a  breakfast  (at 
Lady  Dufferin's,  at  her  villa  in  Highgate,  about  five  miles 
from  London).  The  grounds  are  charming ;  the  villa  a 
beautiful  English  house,  with  lawn  and  shrubbery,  and  oaks, 
and  wide  views  over  the  hill  and  dale,  such  as  are  in  perfection 
in  England.  The  weather  was,  as  it  has  been  for  the  last  ten 
days,  very  summery  and  sultry.  Tea  tables  and  ices  were 
spread  on  the  la^vn  under  the  trees,  and  there  were  many 
persons  of  my  acquaintance  present.  The  Stanleys,  the 
Airlies,  Mrs.  Norton,  the  Duchess  of  Wellington,  and  various 
other  persons  were  there.  The  tone  of  the  party  was  very  much 
sans  gene,  and  Mrs.  Norton  triumphed  over  her  age  and  the 
sunlight.     Both  the  Amorys  looked  very  well. 

I  do  not  know  that  I  have  anything  special  to  record  of  this 
afternoon's  entertainment.  The  Countess  of  Clarendon  was 
there,  and  requested  Lady  Dufferin  to  introduce  me  to  her, 
and  was  very  civil  and  agreeable.  We  returned  in  time  for 
me  to  dress,  and  go  to  dine  at  Lord  Goderich's  at  eight. 
I  think  I  mentioned  in  my  last  that  Lord  Goderich  is  a  rising 
young  politician,  with  a  good  deal  of  talent,  and  very  liberal 
principles.  Of  my  acquaintance  was  Hurlbert,  who,  as  I  have 
before  mentioned,  has  recently  turned  up  here,  and  A.  Bussell. 


266  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  YIII. 

Besides,  there  was  the  "  young  couple "  whom  we  met  two  or 
three   years   ago   at   Lucerne.      As  I  rarely  forget  faces,   I 

recognised  theirs.     They  are  a  Mr.  and  Mrs. .     He  is  a 

Member  of  Parliament  and  a  Radical.  She  sat  on  my  left, 
and  I  asked  in  the  course  of  dinner  whether  she  remembered 
where  w^e  had  last  met.  She  said  she  had  been  puzzling  over 
it  (which  I  do  not  believe  at  all) ;  I  said,  in  Lucerne.  Then 
she  remembered,  or  affected  to  remember,  and  added,  "  Why 
is  it  that  we  English,  when  we  meet  abroad,  are  so  very 
friendly,  and  when  we  reappear  in  London  are  so  very 
hedgehoggy  ?  "  I  told  her  that  the  reason  why  there  was  no 
hedgehogginess  on  this  occasion  was  because  I  was  not  an 
Englishman.  "  From  which  of  the  sister  islands,  then  ?  "  she 
asked.  "From  none,"  I  answered.  "Then  from  one  of  the 
colonies  ?  "  "  Yes,"  said  I,  "  from  Australia."  Eussell  and 
Lady  Goderich  laughed,  and  I  left  her  to  burst  in  ignorance. 
After  the  dinner,  Kussell  and  I  retired  to  the  Athenaeum  at 
eleven,  to  drink  soda  and  water  and  smoke  cigars,  which  evil 
habit  I  have  occasionally  resumed  late  at  night,  but  very 
rarely  at  the  Cosmopolitan. 

To-day,  Sunday — for  the  last  sheet  of  this  letter  I  have  taken 
up  late  this  evening — I  have  done  nothing  but  take  a  short 
drive  in  the  park  with  the  Amorys,  and  dine  with  the  Sturgises, 
and  now  I  am  tired,  and  so  I  shall  say  God  bless  you, 
dearest  Mary  ;  kiss  my  darling  children,  and  believe  me  ever. 

Most  affectionately  yours, 

J.  L.  M. 


To  Ms  Mother. 

London, 
June  nth,  185S. 

My  deaeest  Mother, — I  was  rejoiced  to  find  by  the  letters 
which  arrived  yesterday  that  your  health  had  improved. 

It  makes  me  very  sad  to  hear  of  you  as  suffering  so  much 
pain,  and  I  trust  most  sincerely  that  the  change  of  air  and  the 
quiet  of  Eiverdale  will  re-invigorate  you,  and  that  we  may 
have  the  happiness  to  hear  of  a  still  further  improvement.     I 


1858]         LOBD  BROUGHAM  AND  THE  SLAVE  TRADE.  267 

am  leading  rather  a  solitary  life  here,  for  although  I  go  a 
good  deal  into  society,  this  is  rather  as  a  matter  of  duty  than 
anything  else.  My  own  family  are  all  far  away  from  me  in 
Switzerland ;  although  thank  God  they  have  hitherto  been 
pretty  well,  I  cannot  feel  perfectly  comfortable  when  the 
separation  is  such  a  decided  one.  Moreover,  I  do  not  get  so 
much  time  to  work  as  I  hoped  to  do.  London  is  such  a  large 
place  that  an  enormous  deal  of  time  is  spent  in  getting  from 
one  place  to  another.  If  you  go  out  to  breakfast  or  to 
luncheon  your  day  is  broken  in  two,  and  is  no  longer  good  for 
anything. 

Lord  Brougham  interests  me  as  much  as  any  man.  He  is 
now  eighty  years  of  age,  but  I  do  not  see  that  he  is  much 
broken.  His  figure  is  erect,  not  very  graceful,  certainly,  but 
active.  His  face  is  so  familiar  to  every  one,  principally  through 
the  pictures  in  Punch,  as  hardly  to  require  a  description. 
The  whole  visage  is  wild  and  bizarre,  and  slightly  comical,  but 
not  stern  or  forbidding.  Like  his  tongue  and  his  mind,  it  is 
eminently  Scotch,  sharp,  caustic,  rugged,  thistle-ish.  The  top 
of  the  head  is  as  flat  as  if  it  had  been  finished  with  a  plane. 
The  brain-chamber  is  as  spacious  as  is  often  allotted  to  any 
one  mortal,  and,  as  the  world  knows,  the  owner  has  furnished 
it  very  thoroughly.  The  face  is  large,  massive,  seamed  all 
over  with  the  deep  furrows  of  age  and  thought  and  toil ;  the 
nose  is  fantastic  and  incredible  in  shape.  There  is  much 
humour  and  benevolence  about  the  lines  of  the  mouth.  His 
manner  is  warm,  eager,  earnest,  cordial.  I  was  with  him  half 
an  hour  yesterday,  and  he  talked  a  good  deal  of  the  question 
of  Cuba  and  the  slave  trade.  He  was  of  opinion  that  the  claim 
to  visit  must  be  given  up ;  that  there  was  no  logical  defence 
for  it,  but  he  spoke  with  a  sigh  and  almost  with  tears  at  the 
apparent  impossibility  of  suppressing  the  slave  trade,  or  of 
preventing  in  America  the  indefinite  extension  and  expansion 
of  slavery. 

I  told  him  that  Americans  belonging  to  the  Free  States 
were  placed  in  a  position  such  as  no  great  body  of  men 
had  ever  before  found  themselves  in.  They  were  forced  to 
choose  between  an  act  of  political  suicide  or  connivance  at  the 


268  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  VIIL 

steady  expansion  of  the  slavery  system,  which  was  repugnant 
both  to  their  principles  and  to  their  interests.  A  man  in 
Ohio  or  Massachusetts  must  either  be  '  a  rebel  and  bend  his 
energy  to  the  dissolution  of  the  Union,  or  he  must  go  heart 
and  hand  with  Alabama  and  Carolina  in  acquiring  Cuba  and 
Central  America,  and  carving  out  an  endless  succession  of 
slave  states  for  the  future.  He  said  this  was  quite  true,  and 
that  all  lovers  of  progress  and  liberal  institutions  could  not 
help  being  afflicted  at  the  terrible  position  in  which  the  Free 
States  were  placed.  Whichever  way  one  looked,  dissolution 
seemed  to  stare  us  in  the  face,  for  the  annexation  of  the  worn- 
out,  effete,  mongrel  Spanish-American  population  into  our  con- 
federation was  after  all  a  vitiation,  corruption  and  death  to  our 
original  and  powerful  organization.  I  do  not  give  you  exactly 
his  words,  but  as  I  agreed  in  everything  he  said,  and  as  he 
seemed  to  sympathise  with  all  I  ventured  to  express,  I  thought 
it  would  interest  you  to  hear  it.  No  man  wishes  more  good, 
more  glory,  more  prosperity  to  the  American  people  than 
Lord  Brougham,  but  he  cannot  believe  (nor  can  I)  that  those 
objects  are  to  be  attained  by  extending  slavery  and  re-esta- 
blishing the  slave  trade.  I  have  got  to  the  end  of  my  sheet, 
my  dearest  mother,  and  so  I  shall  bid  you  good-bye  for  the 
present,  meaning  to  write  again  very  soon.  I  shall  remain 
about  a  fortnight  longer  in  London,  and  then  leave  for 
Holland,  where  I  have  some  two  or  three  months'  work.     My 

best  love  to  father,  to  my  dear  A ,  of  whom  I  am  glad  to 

hear  so  much  better  accounts,  and  to  all  the  rest  of  the  family. 
And  believe  me,  my  dear  mother, 

Most  affectionately  your  son, 

J.  L.  M. 


^  To  his  Wife. 

\  London, 

June  20th,  1858. 

My  dearest  Maey, — Although  I  go  out  a  good  deal,  and 
dine  with  somebody  or  other  every  day,  I  see  no  new  cele- 
brities, and,  indeed,  there  are  very  few  to  see.  I  doubt  if  I 
shall  see  Disraeli  or  Bulwer.     Both  are  now  Ministers,  and 


1858]  LORD  BROUGHAM.  269 

rarely  go  into  society,  I  believe.  Carlyle  was  to  have  come 
to  breakfast  at  Milnes's,  but  he  was  ill,  and  sent  an  apology. 
Monday  I  dined  with  Mr.  Darwin,  cousin  to  Mackintosh,  and 
son  or  grandson  of  the  man  who  wrote  the  *  Botanical  Garden,' 
]Mackintosh  was  there,  and  his  sister  and  brother-in-law 
the  Wedgwoods,  descendants  of  the  famous  Wedgwood  the 
potter,  and  sundry  other  people,  whose  names  I  do  not  know. 
The  day  was  insufiferably  hot.  The  weather,  the  three  or  four 
days  of  the  past  week,  has  been  hotter  than  any  one  ever 
believed  it  possible  to  be  in  England.  The  glass  was  near  90"* 
in  the  shade,  and  there  was  a  sense  of  suffocation  in  the  air, 
which  was  intensified  by  dining  in  the  inevitable  white  choker 
in  close  rooms.  For  once  in  my  life  I  have  known  the  weather 
too  warm  for  my  taste,  but  it  has  furnished  a  topic  of  con- 
versation inexhaustible  and  providential. 

On  Tuesday  I  dined  with  Lady  Williams,  the  widow  of 
a  judge  of  some  note.  The  company  consisted  of  Mr  Har- 
court,^  a  bland  old  gentleman,  to  whom  I  was  introduced 
on  arriving.  When  I  came  in  with  A.  Russell  (Lady  W. 
Russell,  being  taken  suddenly  ill,  was  unable  to  come  to  the 
dinner).  Lady  Williams  addressed  me  in  French.  I  replied 
in  that  language,  thinking  perhaps  she  had  mistaken  me  for 
Malakoff,  and  being  unwilling  to  disturb  the  illusion.  She, 
however,  soon  after  presented  me  to  the  said  Mr.  Harcourt, 
and  after  I  had  turned  away,  I  heard  her  ask  him  confiden- 
tially if  he  had  read  the  D.  R.  As  she  is  very  hard  of 
hearing,  he  was  obliged  to  whisper  in  a  tremendous  under- 
tone audible  a  mile  off,  "  Not  yet,  but  Lady  Waldegrave  (his 
wife)  is  reading  it  at  this  moment  with  great  pleasure; "  all  of 
which  I  was  cense  not  to  hear.  Then  came  Lord  Brougham, 
looking  as  droll  as  ever.  There  certainly  never  was  a  great 
statesman  and  author  who  so  irresistibly  suggested  the  man 
who  does  the  comic  business  at  a  small  theatre  as  Brougham. 
You  are  compelled  to  laugh  when  you  see  him  as  much  as  at 
Keeley  or  Warren.  Yet  there  is  absolutely  nothing  comic 
in  his  mind.  On  the  contrary,  he  is  always  earnest,  vigorous, 
impressive,  but  there  is  no  resisting  his  nose.  It  is  not  merely 
'  George  Harcourt,  Esi. 


270  MOTLEY'S  LETTEES.  [Chap.  VIU. 

the  configuration  of  that  wonderful  feature  which  surprises 
you,  but  its  mobility.  It  has  the  litheness  and  almost  the 
length  of  the  elephant's  proboscis,  and  I  have  no  doubt  he 
can  pick  up  pins  or  scratch  his  back  with  it  as  easily  as  he 
could  take  a  pinch  of  snuff.  He  is  always  twisting  it  about 
in  quite  a  fabulous  manner. 

Then  there  were  Lord  and  Lady  Stratford  de  Eedcliffe,  the 
Earl  of  Powis,  who  told  me  that  he  knew  the  Fays  when 
they  lived  in  Shropshire,  some  young  men  whose  names  I  have 
forgotten,  and  a  very  pretty  girl  who  sat  next  me,  whose  name 
was  Campbell.  I  can  absolutely  tell  you  nothing  of  this 
entertainment.  I  am  not  much  of  a  judge  of  cookery ;  I  really 
cannot  say  whether  the  cuisine  of  the  various  places  where  I 
dine  is  commendable  or  the  reverse,  and  I  can  only  say  that  it 
is  stereotyped.  The  same  soups,  fishes,  and  dishes  succeed  each 
other  in  one  unvarying  procession,  just  as  in  a  Boston  dinner 
party  or  a  German  table  d'hote. 

No  doubt,  too,  the  society  is  too  large.  The  wide  orbits  in 
which  the  higher  constellations  move,  admit  but  slight  possi- 
bilities of  conjunction,  and  so  in  solemn  silence,  or  nearly  so, 
all  move  round  the  vast  terrestrial  ball.  There  is  not  much 
chance  for  anything  beyond  a  slight  and  formal  acquaintance, 
however  disposed  the  natives  may  be  to  be  civil  to  strangers, 
and  in  my  own  case  I  have  received  a  good  deal  of  civility. 
Still,  the  width  of  society  makes  it  dreary  for  a  foreigner.  On 
Wednesday  morning  I  breakfasted  with  Milnes.  He  is  a 
particularly  good  fellow,  hearty,  jolly,  intelligent,  rich,  and 
hospitable,  a  man  of  letters,  and  a  Member  of  Parliament. 
His  wife  is  at  present  in  the  country,  so  that  he  does  not  give 
dinners,  although  they  say  his  house  is  one  of  the  best  to  dine 
at  in  London.  \  breakfast  is  in  itself  an  absurdity.  At  least 
I  for  one  hate  to  ialk  at  breakfast  to  people  with  whom  I  am 
not  intimate.  \ 

It  takes  at  least  \a  few  glasses  of  champagne  to  thaw  the 
surface  of  any  general  intercourse,  but  to  pour  tea  upon  the 
ice  is  indeed  a  weakness.  To  be  jolly  over  muffins  is  the 
most  wretched  of  delusions.  There  was  a  Professor  from  Bal- 
timore, whose  specialty  seems  to  be  an  international  currency. 


1858.]  MADAME  MOHL.  271 

who  asked  if  I  happened  to  bo  acquainted  with  my  namesake, 
the  author  of  the  *  Dutch  Bepublic,'  two  or  three  foreigners. 
Lord  Ashburton,  and  a  Crimean  hero  or  two,  et  voila.  I  am 
sure  I  cannot  tell  you  anything  of  the  conversation,  as  there 
was  no  celebrity  present  whose  head  I  can  take  off  for  your 
amusement.  ...  I  dined  with  John  Forster,  formerly  editor 
of  the  Examiner,  author  of  several  very  clever  works.  The 
company  consisted  of  Dilke,  editor  of  the  Athenmim,  Egg  the 
painter,  Sir  C.  Eastlake,  President  of  the  Royal  Academy,  and 
his  wife.  The  thermometer  had  been  at  90°  all  day,  and  you 
may  imagine  what  the  eflfect  of  wax  candles,  steaming  dishes, 
and  a  parboiled  dozen  or  two  of  human  creatures  must  have 
been.  For  my  own  feelings  I  can  only  say  that  St.  Lawrence  on 
his  gridiron  was  an  emblem  of  cool  comfort  in  comparison.  The 
conversation  was  not  exciting  or  instructive.  Lady  Eastlake 
had  been  a  good  deal  in  Germany  and  in  Courland,  and  I  have 
an  idea  that  she  is  the  author  of  a  very  clever  book  I  once  read 
called  '  Letters  from  the  Baltic'  Her  husband  is  a  sensible 
man  in  his  profession  of  cognoscente.  On  Thursday  morning, 
while  I  was  making  a  call  on  Julia  Sturgis,  in  walked  Madame 
Mohl.  "We  fell  into  each  other's  arms  of  course.  I  do  not 
know  how  long  she  is  to  stay  here.  It  appears  that  the  Queen 
of  Holland  has  been  lately  making  a  visit  to  the  Emperor  in 
Paris.  She  told  Mr.  Mohl  she  wanted  to  see  Mignet,  Cousin, 
and  other  celebrities.  He  told  her  she  could  not,  for  nothing 
would  induce  such  men  to  go  to  the  Tuileries.  The  only  way 
it  could  be  managed  was  for  her  to  come  to  his  house,  and  he 
would  invite  them  to  meet  her.  With  this  she  was  delighted, 
so  the  Mohls  gave  a  luncheon  or  dinner,  I  forget  which,  and 
had  all  these  celebrities,  and  her  Majesty  came  and  was 
delighted. 

Mme.  ]\[ohl  said  that  Count  Randwyk  told  her  it  was  indis- 
pensable that  I  should  report  myself  to  him  on  my  arrival  at 
the  Hague.  He  is  her  Master  of  Ceremonies.  I  do  not  think 
I  shall,  however ;  certainly  not  if  I  can  possibly  help  it. 

That  day  I  went,  according  to  appointment,  to  the  House  of 
Lords,  sent  in  my  card  to  Lord  Brougham,  who  came  out  and 
brought  me  into  the  House,  and  gave  me  a  place  on  what  is 


272  MOTLEY'S  LETTEES.  [Chap.  VIII. 

called  the  steps  of  the  throne,  where  you  are  separated  by  a 
slight  rail  from  the  body  of  the  House. 

The  speaking  on  the  Cuba  business  was  opened  by  the 
Bishop  of  Oxford,  in  a  fervid  and  impassioned  speech.  He  is 
the  son  of  the  celebrated  Wilberforce,  and  one  of  the  best 
speakers  in  England.  There  is  no  need  of  my  talking  about 
the  matter  of  this  debate.  The  manner  is  all  which  is  im- 
portant, as  you  have  perhaps  seen  what  was  said ;  and  if  not,  it 
is  of  little  consequence,  for  the  whole  matter,  so  far  as  England 
and  America  are  concerned,  is  settled.  The  men  who  spoke 
were,  besides  the  Bishop  of  Oxford,  Brougham,  who  was 
earnest,  eager,  and  eloquent  as  a  young  man  ;  Earl  Grey,  who 
was  very  peppery  and  pugnacious ;  Clarendon,  who  was  gentle- 
manlike ;  Carlisle,  who  was  brief  but  earnest  and  almost 
eloquent.  Just  before  the  end  of  the  debate  he  came  over  to 
me  to  tell  me  that  he  had  just  sent  me  a  note  inviting  me  to 
dinner  on  the  3rd  July.  On  the  whole  the  style  of  thing  was 
very  creditable,  the  elocution  was  above  mediocrity,  and  the 
tone  was  in  mortifying  contrast  to  that  of  the  recent  debate  in 
our  Senate,  where  each  speaker  vied  with  the  rest  in  using 
violent  and  abusive  language  towards  England, — I  say  morti- 
fying contrast,  because  whatever  be  the  right  or  the  wrong, 
and  I  believe  that  we  are  right,  yet  it  is  detestable  to  see 
people  without  any  feeling  of  the  responsibility  of  statesmen 
and  bragging  away  about  going  into  a  naval  war  with  a  power 
which  has  got  some  four  hundred  ships  of  war  while  we  have 
got  twenty-five  or  thirty. 

On  Saturday  I  went  to  a  large  morning  party  at  the 
Marchioness  of  Westminster's.  Their  residence  is  Grosvenor 
House,  one  of  the  most  splendid  palaces  in  London.  There 
were  a  dozen  or  two  of  people  that  I  knew  there.  The  prin- 
cipal reception  room  was  the  great  picture  gallery,  but  there 
was  no  opportunity  of  seeing  the  pictures,  and  the  crowd  was 
so  great  that  there  was  no  chance  for  anything  but  to  suffer 
and  be  strong  for  a  little  while,  and  then  to  come  away. 
I  was  obliged  to  leave  by  five  o'clock,  as  I  was  engaged  three 
weeks  long,  with  fifty  or  sixty  of  my  compatriots,  to  be  starred 
and  gartered  by  Mr.  Peabody  at  Eichmond.     I  went  with  the 


1858.]  LONDON  SOCIETY.  273 

Sturgis's  in  their  carriage.  The  day  was  fine  and  the  drive 
pleasant,  and  the  dinner  less  oppressive  than  I  had  antici- 
pated. The  Amorys  were  there,  both  looking  handsome  and 
beautifully  dressed,  the  Dallases,  Fishers,  and  a  comprehensive 
catalogue  of  starred  and  striped  individuals  from  Connecticut 
to  California,  the  latter  State  being  represented  by  a  volumi- 
nous nuggety  lady.  I  conducted  to  dinner  Mrs.  Morell,  the 
married  daughter  of  Mrs.  Dallas. 

We  reached  town  at  about  11.30,  at  which  hour  I  was 
deposited  at  Cambridge  House,  where  there  was  a  party. 
There  is  nothing  particular  to  be  said  of  this  festival,  nobody 
there  whom  I  have  not  described.  Lord  Palmerston  came  up 
to  me,  and  talked  a  quarter  of  an  hour  very  pleasantly ;  and 
there  were  others  whom  I  like  to  meet,  as  Baron  Bentinck, 
the  Netherlands  Minister;  an  especially  agreeable  person. 
Baroness  Rothschild,  who  invited  me  to  dinner  next  Thursday. 

Affectionately  yours, 

J.  L.  M. 


VOL.  I. 


274  MOTLEY'S  LETTEES.  [Chap.  IX. 


CHAPTEE   IX. 

LONDON   SOCIETY   (CONTINUED). 

London  dinner  parties — Pembroke  Lodge — Lady  J.  Eussell — Sir  H.  Seymour — 
Lord  Gifford — Duflferin  Lodge — Cliveden — The  Duchess  of  Sutherland — 
Breakfast  with  Monckton  Milnes — Thackeray  at  work — Danby  Seymour — 
Harrow  speeches  —  The  Kothschilds — Stafford  House — "An  honest  diner- 
out  " — Concert  at  Lansdowne  House — Lord  Stanhope — "  Owen  Meredith  " — 
"Tom  Brown" — Hatfield — Samuel  Wilberforce — Lord  Shaftesbury — Lord 
Denbigh — Dinner  at  Chiswick  House — Holland  House — Stoke  Park — Gray's 
'Elegy' — Dinner  at  Holland  House — Lord  Macaulay — Lord  Clarendon — 
Cassiobury  Park — A  series  of  dinner  parties — Bath  House — Ball  at  Apsley 
House — India  debate  in  House  of  Lords — Lord  Wensleydale — Mount  Felix 
— East  Horsley  Towers — Hayward — Prince  Frederick  of  Schleswig-Holstein 
— Kinglake — Journey  to  the  Hague. 

To  Ms  Wife. 

London, 
June  27th,  1858. 

My  deaeest  Mary, — My  last  letter,  rather  a  jejune  speci- 
men, I  am  afraid,  was  duly  posted  on  the  Sunday.  I  believe 
that  the  wondrous  tale  of  my  adventures  on  that  occasion  was 
brought  up  to  Saturday  inclusive.  There  are  so  many  indi- 
viduals in  London  society,  that  it  is  a  long  time  before  one 
meets,  except  at  a  grand  evening  party,  many  persons  on  any 
one  occasion  that  one  has  seen  before,  and  at  the  same  time 
those  you  met  yesterday,  that  it  comes  to  the  same  thing. 
About  8  P.M.  I  drive  daily  in  a  hansom  along  Piccadilly, 
in  a  white  choker,  and  the  colossal  and  comical  statue  of  the 
Duke  of  Wellington  always  seems  to  tower  above  Belgravia,  as 
the  presiding  genius  of  dinner  parties,  marshalling  his  baton 
the  way  that  so  many  thousands  are  to  go  to  table.  Then  you 
go  into  a  grave-looking  mansion  of  nankeen-coloured  brick, 
are  received  by  a  squad  of  respectable  flunkeys,  confide  your 
name  in  a  modest  whisper  to  one  of  them,  so  that  he  may  roar 
it  up  the  staircase  to  his  colleagues  on  the  landing.  Then  you 
go  into  a  large  salon  with  a  score  or  so  of  gentlemen  and 


1858.]  LONDON  DINNER  PARTIES.  275 

ladies.  Then,  after  the  usual  remarks  concerning  the  heat  of 
the  weather  and  the  odoriferousness  of  the  Thames,  the  solemn 
procession  goes  down  to  the  salle  a  manger.  "  Slowly  and 
sadly  we  sat  us  down,"  and  precisely  the  same  dishes  in  exactly 
the  same  order  are  placed  under  our  noses,  exactly  at  the  same 
moment.  Then,  after  the  normal  lapse  of  an  hour  and  a  half, 
the  usual  struggle  of  crinolines  takes  place,  and  the  ladies  soar 
to  the  supernal  regions.  The  male  survivors  pretend  to  be 
relieved,  and  to  draw  nearer  and  aflfect  to  talk  politics,  although 
nothing  is  ever  said,  and  pretend  to  drink  wine,  although  not 
a  pint  is  consumed.  Then  after  the  normal  twenty  minutes 
are  past,  the  solemn  question,  "  A  little  more  wine  ?  "  is  pro- 
pounded, and  the  procession  with  funeral  gravity  moves 
upstairs — as  if  they  had  all  met  to  pay  the  last  homage  to  a 
deceased  friend,  and  were  glad  to  have  accomplished  the  rite 
in  a  becoming  manner.  After  coflfee,  the  party  is  sometimes 
strengthened  by  a  fresh  infusion  of  new  company  from  without, 
and  the  languid  circulation  is  thus  improved,  and  then  you 
eclipse  yourself  when  you  like,  or  remain  till  twelve  o'clock, 
draining  the  cup  to  the  dregs. 

To  descend  to  particulars.  On  Sunday  I  drove  out  with 
A.  Kussell,  by  invitation,  to  Pembroke  Lodge,  Kichmond,  to 
make  a  visit  to  Lord  and  Lady  John  Eussell.  I  have  already 
described  him  to  you,  and  I  have  nothing  to  add  to  that 
picture.  His  manner,  especially  in  his  own  house,  is  more 
pleasing  than  I  had  expected.  His  voice  is  gentle,  and  his 
address  is  not  restrained  or  even  indififerent.  We  sat  in  the 
drawing-room  till  a  shower  was  over,  and  then  we  walked  about 
the  grounds  with  Lord  John.  This  place  is  one  given,  or 
rather  lent,  to  him  by  the  Queen  for  his  life,  and  is  built  in  the 
royal  park,  and  has  a  magnificent  view  of  the  Thames  scenery, 
with  all  the  rich  combinations  of  bosky  bro^^^l  and  sunny 
glade,  and  cottage  chimneys,  that  smoke  beneath  the  ancient 
oak  Milton  so  loved  to  paint.  I  think  the  *  Allegro  *  and 
*  Penseroso '  must  have  been  written  on  the  top  of  Kichmond 
Hill.  Lady  John  Kussell  looks  like  her  brother,  Henry 
Elliot,  from  whom  she  said  she  had  often  heard  of  me.  They 
have  several  children,  the  youngest  a  pretty  little  girl.     The 

T  2 


276  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  IX. 

cottage  is  simply  and  plainly  furnished.  It  was  pleasant 
enough  to  see  the  ex-Premier  under  his  own  vine  and 
fig-tree.  He  is  a  very  good  politician  and  statesman,  and 
a  model  pere  de  famille.  They  wished  me  to  appoint  another 
day  to  come  out  to  luncheon.  I  dined  afterwards  with 
Mrs.  Norton.  She  made  the  dinner  for  me,  but  she  was 
somewhat  disappointed  in  her  company,  several  of  the  persons 
that  she  wanted,  among  others  Delane,  having  been  engaged. 
The  company  consisted  of  the  Marquis  of  Lansdo^^^le ;  Lord 
Dufferin,  and  his  mother,  Lady  Dufferin  ;  the  "  young  couple  " 
of  whose  name  I  think  I  have  already  informed  you ;  Mr.  Har- 
court ;  Hayward,  the  Quarterly  Reviewer  and  universal  diner 
out ;  the  Earl  of  Grifford,  and  Sir  Hamilton  Seymour,  the  man 
Avho  was  Minister  in  Petersburg  at  the  time  when  the  "  sick 
man  "  gave  the  Czar  Nicholas  «o  much  anxiety. 

I  believe  I  have  already  described  the  individuals  composing 
the  troop  thus  enumerated,  except  the  two  l^-st-named  indi- 
viduals. Sir  H.  Seymour  is  not  especially  describable.  He  is 
obviously  intelligent,  caustic,  and  apparently  good-humoured, 
and  with  a  good  deal  of  the  usage  du  monde  to  be  expected  in 
a  veteran  diplomatist.  He  is  still  comparatively  young,  but 
has  laid  himself  up  on  a  pension.  Lord  Gifford  is  the  eldest 
son  of  the  Marquis  of  Tweeddale,  is  an  M.P.  till  he  succeeds 
to  his  father's  peerage,  is  about  thirty-five  years  old,  plain- 
looking,  intelligent,  spectacled,  and  a  sculptor  of  remarkable 
talent.  There  is  at  Dufferin  Lodge  a  marble  bust  of  Lady 
Dufferin  executed  by  him,  which  is  singularly  like  and  very 
beautiful,  and  another  one  in  plaster  of  her  brother,  Brinsley 
Sheridan,  which  is  almost  as  good.  I  do  not  remember  any- 
thing especially  worth  reporting  of  this  dinner.  The  conversa- 
tion rolled  on  the  accustomed  wheels.  But  where  two  such 
persons  as  Mrs.  Norton  and  Lady  Dufferin  were  present,  you 
may  imagine  \hat  it  was  not  slow.  Mrs.  Norton,  however,  was 
a  good  deal  indisposed,  so  much  so  as  to  be  obliged  to  leave 
the  table.  She  recovered,  however,  and  remained  till  12 .  30  in 
her  salon,  at  which  hour  Hayward  and  myself  retired.  The  de- 
scriptions of  Mrs.  Norton  have  not  been  exaggerated.  In  the 
noon  of  her  beauty  she  must  have  been  something  wondrous. 


1858]  CLIVEDEN.  277 

On  Monday  I  got  a  pretty  good  day's  work  in  the  State 
Paper  Office,  and  at  seven  I  drove  out  to  Highgate  to  dine 
with  Lady  Duflferiu.  There  was  no  party,  except  one  young 
man  whose  name  I  forget,  and  Brinsley  Sheridan,  with  his 
wife  and  two  daughters. 

Mr.  Sheridan  has  a  good  deal  of  the  family  fascination, 
being  still  very  handsome,  with  a  very  winning  address.  One 
of  his  daughters  is  very  pretty,  and  is  just  engaged  to  be 
married  to  the  eldest  son  of  Lord  Poltimore. 

This  dinner,  although  merely  a  family  one,  was  one  of  the 
pleasantest  I  have  been  at.  When  there  is  one  such  person  at 
table  as  Lady  Dufiferin,  of  course  it  makes  all  the  difference. 
She  has  kno^Mi  everybody,  and  tells  peppery  little  anecdotes, 
strikes  out  little  portraits,  and  talks  on  grave  and  gay  subjects 
with  the  same  animation  and  brilliancy.  Then  she  paints 
beautifully,  having  adorned  the  panels  of  her  own  boudoir  witli 
her  own  pencil,  and  is  perpetually  writing  clever  verses. 
"When  well  dressed,  she  is  very  pretty,  but  she  never  could 
have  had  the  beauty  of  Mrs.  Norton,  who  has  the  head  of  a 
•classic  muse,  and  the  eyes  of  a  sibyl. 

I  brought  Sheridan  into  town,  who  asked  me  for  a  lift,  that 
some  one  else  might  be  accommodated  in  his  carriage,  and  he 
made  himself  very  agreeable  during  the  drive. 

On  Thursday  I  went  with  Mrs.  Norton  and  Stirling  by  rail 
to  Cliveden.  This  is  a  villa  belonging  to  the  Duke  of  Suther- 
land,  and   famous    in   Pope's   verses   as    "  Cliveden's    proud 

alcove," — 

"  The  bower  of  wanton  Shrewsbury  and  love," 

and  now  in  possession  of  a  purer  celebrity.  I  had  received  an 
invitation  from  the  Duchess  through  Mrs.  Norton,  entirely 
unawares,  as  I  had  never  been  presented  to  her ;  but,  as  I  have 
already  observed,  it  was  probable  that  I  should  be  drifted  in 
her  direction  before  I  left  London.  I  suppose  you  will  like  a 
description  of  her.  There  is  something  very  plenteous  and 
bountiful  and  sunny  in  her  aspect.  She  is  tall,  and  very 
large,  and  carries  herself  with  a  very  good-natured  stateliness. 
Her  hair  is  blonde-silvered,  her  features  are  large  and  well 
•chiselled,  her  smile  is  very  beaming,  and  there  is  benevo- 


278  MOTLEY'S  LETTEKS.  [Chap.  IX. 

lence  and  sunsliine  in  every  look  and  word.  With  lier  ripe, 
autumnal,  exuberant  person,  and  radiating  expression,  she 
looks  a  personified  Ceres,  and  ought  always  to  be  holding  a 
cornucopia  in  her  right  hand.  She  welcomed  me  like  an  old 
friend,  shakino;  hands  as  if  I  had  known  her  from  the  tenderest 
infancy;  and  then  we  went,  being  late,  to  the  table,  where 
about  twenty-five  people  were  already  seated.  The  company 
consisted  mainly  of  ladies.  There  was  next  me  Lady  C. 
Denison,  wife  of  the  Speaker  of  the  House  of  Commons; 
opposite  was  Mrs.  Yan  der  Weyer,  who  was  affectionate  in  her 
greetings,  and  there  were  various  members  of  the  Carlisle 
family;  Lady  Stafford,  the  daughter-in-law  of  the  Duchess, 
Lady  Blantyre,  and  a  Count  and  Countess  Potofski,  Austrian 
Poles,  for  whom  the  party  was  made;  Grenfell,  a  brother  of 
Mrs.  Froude,  whom  I  very  often  meet  in  society,  and  whose 
father's  place  adjoins  Cliveden ;  Miss  Weston,  cousin  of  Mrs. 
Van  der  Weyer,  who  has  been  several  years  in  Europe,  and 
seems  ladylike  and  intelligent,  and  various  others  whose  names 
I  have  forgotten.  There  was  not  much  done  at  the  party. 
The  view  from  the  house  is  wonderfully  fine,  commanding  a 
view  of  the  silver  Thames,  winding  through  plains  of  almost 
ever  green  freshness,  and  masses  of  ancient  foliage,  such  as 
England  only  has  to  show. 

The  house  is  modern,  and  a  small  palace  built  by  Barry^ 
the  painting  of  the  ceiling  and  panels  is  by  Landseer  and 
other  artists,  the  service  of  the  table  of  quite  regal  magnifi- 
cence, and  the  strawberries  very  portentous  in  size.  After  the 
"  trifling  foolish  banquet "  we  loafed  about  the  grounds,  but 
the  whole  thing  was  brought  to  a  rapid  termination  because 
the  Duchess,  who  is  not  living  here  at  the  moment,  was  to  go 
to  town  by  the  4.30  train.  This  house  is  only  one  of  a  dozen 
or  two  palaces,  villas,  and  castles  which  they  possess.  Of 
course  they  only  reside  here  a  few  weeks  in  each  year.  She 
charged  me  to  make  her  a  visit  very  soon  at  Stafford  House, 
saying  that  she  was  alwWs  at  home  about  two. 

On  Wednesday  mornii^g  I  breakfasted  again  with  Milnes. 
The  company  consisted  of*  two  or  three  English  Consuls  from 
foreign  parts,  Parker  the  publisher,  Mr.  Arthur  Stanley,  cousin 


1858.]  BREAKFAST  WITH  MILNES.  279 

of  Lady  Stanley  of  Alderley,  a  canon  of  Christchurch  and  an 
eminent  divine,  whom  I  had  met  before  at  Milman's,  Lord  Car- 
lisle, Earl  Grey  and  Lord  Stratford  de  Eedclifife.  I  sat  next 
to  the  two  last-named  individuals.  I  had  never  met  Lord  Grey 
before,  although  I  had  heard  him  speak.  He  told  me  he  knew 
me  very  well  through  the  D.E.  and  I  found  him  rather  an 
entertaining  person.  He  has  more  talents  than  many  of  his 
brother  peers.  I  see  no  reason  to  modify  my  sentiments  on 
the  breakfast  system.  If  the  autocrat  of  the  breakfast  table 
had  been  present,  the  scene  would  have  been  changed  indeed. 
If  he  could  only  establish  his  sway  in  London,  a  social  revolu- 
tion would  be  produced ;  and  I  am  quite  persuaded  that  if  by 
accident,  without  changing  any  of  his  other  qualities,  he  could 
have  a  palingenesis,  and  appear  as  a  Howard  or  Stanley  of 
England,  people  would  gather  up  his  conversation,  five  baskets 
full  every  time  he  honoured  any  mahogany.  As  he  was  not 
there  I  took  no  notes  of  anybody's  conversation,  not  even  my 
own,  which  I  flatter  myself  would  exceed  in  dulness  that  of 
any  of  my  competitors.  Kingsley  gave  me  a  very  pressing 
invitation  to  visit  him  at  Eversley.  Milnes,  by  the  way,  is 
bright,  jolly,  and  amusing,  one  of  the  best  fellows  in  London. 
If  he  would  only  shove  his  entertainments  to  the  other  edge 
of  the  daylight,  and  give  us  cups  that  inebriate  instead  of 
cheering,  I  should  have  no  fault  to  find  with  him. 

After  breakfast  I  went  down  to  the  British  Museum.  I  had 
been  immersed  half-an-hour  in  my  MSS.,  when  happening  to 
turn  my  head  round  I  found  seated  next  to  me  Thackeray  with 
a  file  of  old  newspapers  before  him  writing  the  ninth  number  of 
the  '  Virginians.'  He  took  off  his  spectacles  to  see  who  I  was, 
then  immediately  invited  me  to  dinner  the  next  day  (as  he 
seems  always  to  do  everybody  he  meets),  which  invitation  I 
could  not  accept,  and  he  then  showed  me  the  page  he  had  been 
writing,  a  small  delicate  legible  manuscript.  After  this  we 
continued  our  studies.  I  can  conceive  nothing  more  harass- 
ing in  the  literary  way  than  his  way  of  living  from  hand  to 
mouth.  I  mean  in  regard  to  the  way  in  which  he  furnishes 
food  for  the  printer's  devil.  Here  he  is  just  finishing  the 
number  which  must  appear  in  a  few  days.     Of  course,  whether 


280  MOTLEY'S  LETTEES.  [Chap.  IX. 

ill  or  well,  stupid  or  fertile,  he  must  produce  the  same  amount 
of  fun,  pathos,  or  sentiment.  His  gun  must  be  regularly- 
loaded  and  discharged  at  command.  I  should  think  it  would 
wear  his  life  out.  This  day  I  dined  at  Mr.  Danby  Seymour's. 
He  is  a  very  good  fellow,  an  M.P.,  and  of  the  elder  branch 
of  the  Seymour  family.  He  descends  from  the  famous  pro- 
tector Duke  of  Somerset,  and  a  less  remote  Sir  Edward 
Seymour  ancestor  is  the  one  who  made  the  famous  reply  to 
"William  III.,  when  he  landed  from  Holland.  "  You  are  one  of 
the  family  of  the  Duke  of  Somerset  ?  "  asked  this  king.  "  No, 
your  majesty,"  answered  Sir  Edward,  "  he  is  of  mine,"  which 
was  true,  the  ducal  branch  being  the  younger  one.  They  have 
some  fine  portraits  in  the  house,  one  of  this  same  Sir  Edward, 
another  of  the  protector  Duke,  and  a  full  length,  large  as  life, 
of  Harry  VIII.,  by  Holbein. 

I  made  the  acquaintance  of  Mr.  Seymour  the  first  time  I 
was  at  Cambridge  House.  On  being  introduced  to  him  he 
said,  "  I  know  you  well,  I  read  your  book  eight  years  ago." 
To  whom  I  replied  that  he  was  my  earliest  reader,  for  he  had 
read  it  six  years  before  it  was  published,  and  we  have  been 
great  friends  ever  since.  There  were  not  many  notables 
present,  and  the  usual  sprinkling  of  lords  and  ladies,  colonels 
and  M.P.'s.  The  lady  with  whom  I  went  to  dinner  was  very 
lively  and  sociable — Mrs.  Vernon  Smith,  wife  of  the  man  of 
whom  you  have  heard  as  having  been  President  of  the  India 
Board  in  Lord  Palmerston's  ministry.  They  sent  me  an  in- 
vitation to  dinner  next  day  for  a  few  days  afterwards,  but  I  was 
engaged.  I  eclipsed  myself  rather  early  from  the  evening- 
party  which  followed  the  dinner,  and  went  to  the  Cosmopolitan. 
Among  the  usual  members  who  were  there,  there  was  one  Mr. 
Venables,  one  of  the  Saturday  Reviewers,  who  told  me  of  a  per- 
sonal compliment  which  will  please  you  and  Lily  to  hear. 
He  said  that  he  was  an  intimate  acquaintance  of  Tennyson, 
and  that  Tennyson  had  recently  told  him  that  he  admired  my 
history  more  than  any  he  had  ever  read,  and  that  he  had  rarely 
been  so  much  excited  by  any  book.  He  did  not  know  that 
I  was  in  town  till  the  day  he  went  away,  or  would  have  liked 
to  see  me,  etc.    As  this  is  somewhat  different  from  the  hanalites 


1858.]  HARROW  SPEECHES.  281 

of  every  day,  I  thought  I  would  sink  my  blushes  and  let  you 
Jiear  it. 

On  Thursday  morning  Dean  and  Mrs.  Milman  called  in 
their  carriage  to  take  me  to  Harrow  to  hear  what  are  called  the 
*'  Harrow  Speeches,"  to  which  I  had  received  an  invitation 
from  Dr.  Vaughan,  the  head  master.  This  affair  is  very  much 
like  our  college  commencement.  The  prize  boys  speak  Latin, 
Greek,  and  English  orations  and  poems,  and  there  are  also  a 
few  scenes  from  French,  German,  and  English  plays  acted. 
I  he  declamation  was  of  a  very  inferior  description.  When  they 
acted,  however,  and  so  got  out  of  themselves  into  somebody 
<'lso,  it  was  quite  different,  and  although  their  pronunciation 
of  French  and  German  was  stunning  to  unprepared  ears,  their 
performance  in  other  respects  was  rather  light  and  airy.  After 
the  exercises  were  over,  the  invited  guests  went  to  a  collation 
in  the  head  master's  house.  Lord  Palmerston,  who  rode  down, 
n  distance  of  ten  miles,  and  back,  was  called  on  first  after  the 
banquet  in  the  usual  form.  It  is  not  fair  to  criticize  such 
performances,  for  certainly  there  never  was  a  more  senseless 
<'eremony  than  this,  of  calling  men  out  to  make  speeches  when 
they  have  nothing  in  the  world  to  say. 

I  went  up  afterwards  to  the  churchyard  of  Harrow-on-the- 
Hill  to  see  the  tomb  on  which  Byron  used  to  be  fond  of  sitting 
when  he  was  at  school  there.  The  view  is  a  very  extensive 
panorama  and  very  English  and  beautiful.  We  got  back  to 
town  just  in  time  to  dress  for  dinner.  I  dined  with  the 
Eothschilds.  This  is  the  Baron  Lionel,  about  whom  the  row 
AS  to  his  seat  in  Parliament  has  been  so  long  reproducing 
itself.  It  seems  probable  that  next  week  the  Bill  will  pass, 
and  that  he  will  take  his  seat  as  member  for  London,  to  which 
office  he  has  been  so  often  elected.  His  wife  is  very  nice, 
\\  ith  much  esprit,  intelligence  and  cultivation.  There  was  the 
married  daughter  of  the  house,  the  wife  of  course  of  another 
Ivothschild  ^  (for  the  Eothschilds  all  marry  Eothschilds),  who 
is  very  beautiful  and  perfectly  Hebrew  and  Oriental.  A 
pale  face,  arched  brows,  eyes  and  hair  of  the  blackest,  with 
n  gentle,  pretty  manner  and  a  petite  figure,  are  her  character- 
'  Baroness  Alphoose  do  Rothschild. 


282  MOTLEY'S  LETTEKS.  [Chap.  IX. 

istics.  Then  there  is  a  younger  daughter  of  their  father's 
house,  unmarried,  and  a  son  too.  Besides  these  were  Hay  ward, 
Villiers,  brother  of  Lord  Clarendon,  the  Honourable  Geo.  Byng, 
rejoicing  in  the  appellation  of  "  Poodle  Byng,"  and  nobody 
else.  I  sat  next  to  Mme.  Kothschild  and  so  did  very  well.  On 
Friday  I  called  at  Stafford  House.  The  Duchess  was  at  home, 
and  after  I  had  been  there  a  little  while  invited  me  to  go  to 
luncheon.  This  is,  in  fact,  a  2.30  dinner  as  you  know,  consisting 
of  soup,  boiled  and  roast,  pastry  and  fruit,  like  any  other  dinner, 
is  an  institution  at  first  devised  to  keep  the  strong  in  awe,  for 
who  has  the  strength  to  eat  two  dinners  in  one  day  ?  Of  course 
there  was  no  company,  and  I  only  came  to  make  a  morning 
call.  There  were  the  Duke,  Lady  Stafford,  and  Lady  Blantyre. 
After  the  refection  the  Duchess  showed  me  all  over  the 
house.  Descriptions  of  houses  are  not  much.  Suffice  it  to 
say,  that  this  is  the  best  private  palace  in  London.  The 
double  staircase  especially  is  very  broad  and  stately,  and  the 
wide  entrance  hall  is  ornamented  with  fine  groups  of  statuary 
by  modern  sculptors — nothing  very  remarkable,  but  very  good 
as  furniture.  I  think  there  are  few  of  the  palaces  in  Genoa 
Avith  so  fine  an  entrance  and  staircase.  The  rooms  are  all  very 
grand  and  gilded,  the  "  enervating  saloons,"  to  get  an  invita- 
tion to  which  Koebuck  complains  of  the  baseness  perpetrated 
by  members  of  Parliament,  and  the  gallery  is  very  handsome. 
I  was  disappointed  in  the  pictures.  With  the  exception  of  two 
Murillos  from  the  Soult  collection,  '  Abraham  Entertaining  the 
Angels,'  and  '  The  Eeturn  of  the  Prodigal  Son,'  both  of  which 
are  treated  with  a  dramatic  energy  unusual  with  Murillo,  and 
with  his  richest  and  strongest  colour — with  these  two  signal 
exceptions  there  are  hardly  any  first-rate  pictures.  After 
passing  a  very  agreeable  hour  or  two  in  this  way  I  took  my 
leave.  I  dined  that  day  with  the  Sturgis's.  By  the  way, 
Milnes,  the  other  day,  being  invited  by  Lady  Palmerston  to 
dinner,  declined  on  the  ground  of  a  previous  engagement. 
She  begged  him  to  decline  the  previous  engagement.  "  No," 
says  Milnes,  "  whatever  else  I  may  be,  I  am  an  honest  diner 
out."  The  party  at  the  Sturgis's  had  few  persons  that  I 
knew.     I    went   to   dinner  with   Mrs.   Mansfield,   mother  of 


1838.]  LORD  STANHOPE.  283 

General  ]\ransfield,  who  at  the  age  of  forty  has  already  acquired 
great  reputation  and  rank  in  India.  She  is  originally  from 
Baltimore,  she  told  me,  but  has  been  in  England  ever  since  her 
marriage.  Then  there  were  a  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Ponsonby ;  she  a 
very  jiretty  woman  and  sister  to  Lady  Stanley  of  Alderley. 
I  do  not  remember  anything  worthy  of  note  at  the  dinner, 
which,  like  all  those  at  the  Sturgis's,  was  very  good,  they  have 
almost  the  best  cuisine  in  London. 

At  eleven  o'clock  wo  adjourned  to  Lansdowne  House,  where 
there  was  a  private  concert,  to  which  the  Sturgis's  as  well  as 
myself  were  invited.  The  concert  room  is  very  spacious  and 
elegantly  decorated.  The  musicians  were  Viardot,  Garcia, 
Grisi,  Mario,  Graziani,  and  others.  The  room  was,  however, 
very  hot,  and  it  was  difficult  to  get  a  good  place,  so  that  as 
a  concert  I  cannot  say  that  I  enjoyed  it  much.  It  was  not  a 
very  general  party,  only  several  large  spoonfuls  of  the  cream 
of  the  cream.  I  do  not  remember  any  people  of  whom  I 
have  not  spoken,  except  some  members  of  the  Royal  Family, 
the  Duke  and  Duchess  of  Cambridge,  and  the  Princess 
Augusta.  But  to  tell  you  the  truth  I  forgot  to  look  at  them, 
and  so  cannot  describe  them  to  you,  saving  the  Duke  of  Cam- 
bridge, who  stood  near  me  about  five  minutes.  I  had  a  good 
deal  of  talk  as  usual  with  Mrs.  Norton,  Lady  Duflferin,  Mme. 
Eothschild,  and  other  old  acquaintances.  The  Duchess  of 
Manchester  was  there  also,  a  very  pretty  blonde,  with  a  wreath 
of  gold  scallop  shells  in  her  hair.  The  Marchioness  of  Stafford 
was  there  also,  and  these  two  are  considered  the  prettiest 
women  in  London. 

Next  day  I  worked  pretty  well  at  the  S.P.O.  for  a  few  hours, 
but  there  is  no  doubt  that  my  time  is  a  good  deal  cut  up,  and 
although  I  shall  get  through  my  work  pretty  soon,  yet  I  could 
have  accomplished  it  all  by  this  time,  and  sooner,  had  I  been 
entirely  unknown.  Breakfasts,  luncheons,  and  visits,  consume 
valuable  hours  in  this  wide  wilderness.  I  went  in  the  after- 
noon to  return  a  visit  to  Lord  Stanhope,  who  had  called  on  me 
the  day  before.  He  is  better  known  to  the  world  at  large 
under  the  name  of  Lord  Mahon,  which  he  bore  when  he  wrote 
the  *  History  of  England  from  the  Peace  of  Utrecht,'  a  work 


284  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  IX. 

whicli  has  a  high  reputation,  and  was  favourably  reviewed  on 
its  first  appearance  by  Macaulay.  He  is  a  distinguished  per- 
sonage in  the  way  of  letters,  science  and  art,  and  I  found  him 
particularly  agreeable.  He  is  a  slender,  thin  man,  with  hand- 
some features,  curly  hair,  and  spectacles.  He  showed  me  the 
MS.  of  Byron's  '  Curse  of  Minerva,'  in  which  almost  every  word 
had  been  altered,  so  numerous  were  the  corrections  ;  also  a  very 
pretty  valentine  of  some  thirty  lines,  written  by  Macaulay  to 
his  (Lord  Stanhope's)  little  daughter. 

Afterwards  I  drove  down  to  Chiswick,  to  dine  with  Lord 
Carlisle.  The  company  consisted  of  William  Prescott  and  his 
wife,  who  are  on  their  way  to  America,  sailing  next  Saturday ; 
a  Mr.  Calvert,  a  very  entertaining  and  intelligent  Englishman, 
who  is  Consul  in  the  East,  and  has  a  farm  on  the  ruins  of 
Troy ;  Lord  Granville ;  the  Speaker  of  the  House  of  Commons, 
and  his  wife.  Lady  Charlotte  Denison ;  Lord  and  Lady  Chiches- 
ter, Lady  Shannon,  and  Colonel  and  Lady  Louisa  Pyne.  I 
give  you  the  names  just  as  they  would  be  given  by  Jenkins, 
the  reporter  of  fashionable  intelligence  for  the  Morning 
Post.  The  only  notabilities  of  this  party  were  the  Speaker, 
who  is  tall,  with  a  good  Eoman  face,  which  must  look  uncom- 
monly well  in  the  wig.  He  seemed  good-humoured,  and 
sufiiciently  reasonable,  and  I  daresay  looks  very  stately  in  his 
costume.  Lord  Granville  was  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs  in 
Palmerston's  Government,  is  small,  bright,  boyish-looking, 
young,  and  very  agreeable.  He  has  a  decided  resemblance 
to  Longfellow  in  manner  and  visage.  Lady  Charlotte,  the 
Speaker's  wife,  is  a  good-natured,  cultivated  person,  whom 
I  have  met  several  times.  The  rest  of  the  company  were 
commonplace  folks,  not  worth  describing,  except  that  you  will 
like  to  hear  a  word  of  the  Prescotts.  They  came  over  with 
the  Whartons  from  Calais,  who  have  gone  for  the  summer  to 
the  Isle  of  Wight,  so  that  you  will  not  see  them,  I  am  sorry  to 
say.  They  speak  of  Prescott,  the  father,  as  very  Avell,  and 
wishing  to  write,  but  restrained  by  the  physicians  and  friends. 
He  is  more  popular  here  than  ever.  After  returning  to  town 
at  eleven,  I  went  to  a  rather  small  party  at  the  Palmer stons'. 


1858.]  "OWEN  MEREDITH"  AND  "TOM  BROWN."  285 

To  his  Wife. 

London, 
July  itfi,  1858. 

My  dearest  Mary, — This  will  be  but  a  short  and  dull 
letter.  I  wrote  you  an  unconscionably  long  one  last  Sunday. 
To-day,  and  for  several  days  past,  I  have  been  very  much 
indisposed.  You  need  not  be  in  the  least  degree  alarmed.  It 
is  only  my  old  enemy,  diflSculty  of  breathing,  but  it  is  so 
obstinate  and  unrelenting  that  it  makes  me  incapable  of  work 
or  amusement,  and  depresses  me  very  much.  There  is  not  the 
least  need  of  your  worrying  yourself,  for  it  is  only  what  I  have 
been  suffering  from  for  half  my  life,  and  I  daresay,  after  a  few 
<lays  or  weeks  longer,  it  will  pass  away.  I  should  not  mention 
it  at  all,  except  by  way  of  excuse  for  my  inability  to  write 
anything  to  amuse  you  much  this  week.  It  does  not  prevent 
my  daily  occupations,  but  it  rather  neutralises  them.  I  go  to 
the  S.P.O.  every  day,  but  it  is  difficult  for  me  to  work,  and  I 
dine  out  every  evening,  but  it  is  a  supplice  to  talk  or  to  eat. 
Last  Sunday  I  passed  an  hour  at  Mrs.  Norton's.  Among  other 
persons  there  was  Lytton,^  the  son  of  Sir  E.  B.  Lytton.  I  met 
him  afterwards  the  same  evening,  and  he  made  me  a  formal 
speech  about  the  D.R.,  saying  it  was  a  great  privilege  to 
know  the  author,  etc.  He  is  a  handsome  young  man,  and  very 
clever,  having  published  some  poems,  which  are  good,  under 
the  nom  de  pluine  of  "  Owen  Meredith." 

Sunday  evening,  I  drove  out  to  Wimbledon,  and  dined  with 
Hughes,  the  author  of  '  Tom  Brown's  School-days,'  a  book 
which  has  had  a  great  run,  and  is  generally  admired.  He  had 
invited  me  once  before,  but  I  was  engaged.  Hughes  is  an 
(Excellent  fellow,  very  plain,  unsophisticated  and  jolly,  of  course 
full  of  talent.  He  is  not  a  professional  author,  but  a  working 
V)arrister.  His  wife  is  a  pretty  and  pleasing  person,  and  they 
live  in  a  pretty  cottage  near  Wimbledon  Common.  Kingsley 
was  expected,  but  did  not  come,  which  was  also  the  case  with 
Lord  and  Lady  Goderich,  who  were  prevented  by  illness.  The 
only  persons  present  besides  ourselves  were  Mrs.  Phillips,  wife 
'  The  present  Earl  of  Lvtton. 


286  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  IX. 

of  the  artist ;  a  gentleman  whose  name  I  have  forgotten,  and  a 
Lady  somebody.  The  dinner  was  plain,  but  it  was  san  gene, 
the  conversation  less  guindee  and  conventional  than  is  cus- 
tomary in  London. 

Monday  I  went  out  with  A.  Kussell  by  appointment  to 
Hatfield,  a  celebrated  country-house  of  the  Elizabethan  period, 
originally  presented  to  Robert  Cecil,  first  Earl  of  Salisbury, 
and  now  inhabited  by  his  descendant  the  present  Marquis  of 
Salisbury.  A  part  of  the  house  remains  as  it  was  originally 
built,  the  other  portion  was  burned  some  years  ago,  together 
with  the  mother  of  the  present  proprietor,  but  has  been  re- 
stored in  the  same  style.  It  is  a  rambling,  zigzag  structure 
of  brick,  with  gables,  turrets,  and  oriels,  a  superb  dining-room, 
oak-ceilinged  and  wainscoted  and  floored,  a  fine  library,  superb 
views  of  park  scenery  and  distant  hills  from  the  windows,  and 
stately  avenues  of  lime-trees  and  horse-chestnuts.  Then  there 
are  various  portraits  of  the  great  Lord  Burleigh  and  his  greater 
son,  Queen  Elizabeth,  and  other  historical  personages,  which 
have  a  peculiar  interest  for  me,  as  I  happen  to  be  writing 
about  them.  And  there  are  also  formal  old-fashioned  gardens, 
with  clipped  yew  hedges,  and  alleys,  and  fish-ponds,  and  con- 
servatories. Descriptions  of  palaces  are  a  bore,  and  I  will  not 
describe.  We  had  luncheon  in  the  antique  banqueting-room. 
There  are  also  in  the  library  some  private  papers  of  the  famous 
Lord  Burleigh,  which  I  should  like  very  much  to  have  the  ran- 
sacking of,  although  I  have  hundreds  of  them  in  the  archives ; 
but  Lord  Salisbury,  I  have  always  understood,  does  not  wish 
any  one  to  see  them,  so  that  I  did  not  allude  to  the  subject. 
I  dined  this  day  with  Sir  Charles  Lyell.  The  Prescotts,  whom 
it  is  always  a  pleasure  to  meet,  both  on  their  own  account  and 
their  father's,  were  there,  and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lyell.  James 
Lawrence  came  in  the  evening.  He  is  just  come  out  alone  for 
rheumatism,  and  is  going  straight  to  the  Continent.  I  regret 
very  much  to  say  that  he  gives  an  unsatisfactory  account  of 
Prescott.  He  is  kept  on  a  very  low  diet,  and  I  fear  such  great 
precaution  is  rather  alarming. 

Next  day  I  had  a  quiet  dinner  at  Mackintosh's,  almost  the 
first  time  I  have  dined  in\  London  except  at  a  dinner  party,  and 


1858.]  S.  WILBERFOBOE— LORD  SHAFTESBURY.  287 

I  was  very  glad  of  the  repose.  I  like  them  both  very  much 
and  they  have  been  very  friendly  to  me.  She  always  tells  me 
to  send  her  kindest  regards  to  you.  I  am  very  weary  of  sitting 
at  good  men's  feasts  or  bad  ones.  I  have  dined  out  about 
forty  days  in  succession,  and  I  am  now  inclined  to  go  into 
the  wilderness  and  fast  forty  days,  but  I  have  about  a  dozen 
invitations  ahead. 

On  Wednesday  I  breakfasted  with  Lord  Stanhope.  I  think 
I  spoke  of  him  in  my  last  letter.  Lady  Stanhope  is  very 
agreeable,  with  a  very  sweet  face,  one  of  the  persons  I  like 
best  in  London.  I  have  nothing  special  to  say  of  this 
entertainment  except  merely  to  mention  the  names  of  the 
guests,  and  I  suppose  that  you  will  like  to  hear  them. 
Macaulay  did  not  come,  which  is  the  third  time  I  have  been 
disappointed  of  meeting  him  at  breakfast.  Each  time  he 
has  been  obliged  to  excuse  himself  on  account  of  illness,  and 
I  am  afraid  that  he  is  in  a  very  bad  way.  His  cough  is 
certainly  very  alarming,  and  each  time  when  I  have  met  him 
at  dinner  he  has  had  a  very  alarming  fit  of  it.  The  persons 
who  did  come  were  Milnes,  whom  it  is  always  pleasant  to 
meet ;  the  Bishop  of  Oxford,  whom  I  have  met  once  or  twice 
before  at  breakfast,  and  who  is  a  solid,  thickset  man,  agreeable 
in  conversation,  and  a  splendid  orator  ....  Lord  and  Lady 
Shaftesbury,  Lord  Powis,  and  one  or  two  more.  Lady  Shaftes- 
bury is  daughter  to  Lady  Palmerston,  and  is  a  fresh,  handsome 
woman,  although  one  of  her  younger  sons  has  just  set  forth  to 
make  a  tour  in  America.  England  is  certainly  the  paradise 
of  grandmothers.  Lord  Shaftesbury  has  made  himself  distin- 
guished by  promoting  all  sorts  of  charities,  is  strong  about 
Sabbath-breaking,  and  is  in  general  one  of  the  leaders  of  the 
Exeter  Hall  political  pietists.  He  is  very  lugubrious  about 
the  present  aspect  of  affairs  in  England^,  and  assured  me  that 
he  considered  the  country  fast  rolling  down  the  hill  into  the 
abyss  of  democracy. 

This  day  I  dined  with  Mr.  Nassau  Senior,  a  noted  writer  on 
political  economy,  an  Edinburgh  reviewer,  and  an  ex-professor. 
Latterly  he  has  travelled  much  in  Greece,  and  his  MS.  journals 
are  lent  about  London  and  Paris.    He  is  friendly  and  hospitable 


288  MOTLEY'S  LETTEES.  [Chap.  IX. 

and  very  repandu.  His  son  is  a  big,  burly  barrister  in  spectacles. 
His  son's  wife,  Mrs.  Nassau  Senior,  junior,  is  pretty,  very  fair,, 
with  a  wonderful  profusion  of  gilt  flaxen  crinkle-crankled  bair, 
and  a  remarkably  fine  voice,  witb  which  she  discoursed  after 
dinner  much  eloquent  music.  She  is  sister  to  Tom  Hughes, 
alias  Tom  Brown.  Phillips  the  artist  and  his  wife,  both  sensible, 
agreeable  people,  were  the  only  ones  of  the  company  I  knew. 
On  Thursday  I  went  with  the  Sturgises  and  Incheses,  after  an 
early  dinner,  to  the  Princess  Theatre  to  see  the  '  Merchant 
of  Venice.'  It  was  crowded,  hot,  and  uncomfortable.  I  had 
afterwards  for  the  same  evening  an  invitation,  which  of  course 
I  could  not  accept,  from  Lady  W.  Russell  to  go  with  her  to 
Covent  Garden  Opera.  This  house  I  have  not  yet  seen,  and 
it  is  very  large  and  handsome.  However,  I  did  not  care  much 
more  about  going  to  the  one  or  the  other.  The  Queen  was. 
there,  and  of  course  rather  a  brilliant  crowd. 

Friday  I  dined  with  Lady  Mary  Fielding  and  her  father 
the  Earl  of  Denbigh.  They  sent  me  an  invitation  to  dinner 
for  either  Friday  or  Saturday,  so  I  took  Friday.  The  family 
is  distinguished  for  two  things — for  claiming  to  be  the  elder 
branch  of  the  imperial  house  of  Austria,  calling  themselves 
Counts  of  Hapsburg,  and  having  the  double-headed  eagle  on 
their  spoons ;  and  for  numbering  the  immortal  Henry  Fielding 
among  the  scions  of  their  house.  The  party  was  almost  a 
family  one,  there  being  about  five  ladies.  Fielding,  and  two  or 
three  colonels  of  the  same  name.  Besides  these  were  Max 
Miiller,  the  famous  Oxford  philosopher,  a  very  learned  though 
comparatively  a  young  man,  and  Arthur  Stanley,  of  whom  I 
have  spoken  to  you  before.  He  has  asked  me  to  dinner  three 
times,  but  I  have  always  been  engaged.  I  chronicle  these 
names  and  very  important  facts,  because  I  have  nothing  else 
in  the  world  to  say.  Of  course  you  do  not  care  to  hear  how 
many  "  dead  letters  "  I  read  in  the  State  Paper  Office,  or  any 
of  the  details  regarding  my  diggings  generally. 

Saturday,  having  a  few  days  before  found  Noel's  card  on  my 
table,  I  went  up  to  Lady  Byron's,  but  found  that  they  were 
again  flown.  It  is  in  vain  to  attempt  to  see  anybody  in 
London  except  by  positive  appointment.     Lady  Byron  was  at 


1858.]  CHISWICK  HOUSE.  289 

homo  by  a  sea-coal  fire  (for  the  weather  has  become  as 
tinblushingly  cold  as  it  was  hot  a  week  ago) ;  she  is  pretty  well 
for  her,  and  was  pleased  to  see  me.  This  day  I  dined  again 
with  Lord  Carlisle.  The  Milmans  were  going  also,  and  took 
me  in  their  carriage  to  Chiswick  House,  about  five  or  six 
miles  from  Hyde  Park  Corner.  It  is  always  pleasant  to  go  to 
Lord  Carlisle's,  ho  is  so  unaffectedly  cordial  and  even  affec- 
tionate, that  it  would  be  impossible  not  to  be  fond  of  him. 
He  has  been  more  attentive  to  me  than  anybody  in  London, 
•except  the  Russells  and  Mrs.  Norton,  and  I  like  him  ex- 
tremely (I  mean,  of  course,  of  my  new  acquaintances).  The 
company,  besides  the  Milmans,  consisted  of  Mr.  Ball,  a  M.P., 
who  has  been  an  under  secretary,  and  his  wife,  who  is  a 
Yenetian,  speaking  hardly  any  English,  who  sat  next  me,  and 
was  quite  delighted  when  she  found  I  could  speak  French ; 
Macaulay,  who  came  contrary  to  expectation,  but  has  a  very 
bad  cough  and  looks  very  feeble ;  Mr,  Labouchere,  once 
Minister  for  the  Colonies,  and  his  wife.  Lady  Mary,  sister  of 
Lord  Carlisle ;  Mr.  C.  Howard,  his  brother ;  Lord  and  Lady 
Wensleydale,  Sir  David  Dundas,  who  is  just  going  to  America, 
and  two  Members  of  Parliament. 

Nothing  very  memorable  occurred.  Macaulay  did  not 
talk  so  much  as  usual,  although  he  seemed  in  good  spirits 
enough.  He  was  speaking  with  me  after  we  went  upstairs 
upon  American  matters,  when  he  was  seized  with  two  or  three 
violent  fits  of  coughing.  Soon  after  he  went  away,  and 
everybody  seemed  to  feel  anxious  about  him.  Lady  Mary 
Labouchere  is  as  kind-hearted  and  agreeable  as  the  rest  of 
the  family.  I  had  never  met  her  before,  but  she  treated  me 
like  an  old  acquaintance,  invited  me  to  go  out  to  their  country 
place  to-morrow  to  lunch,  and  see  the  churchyard  where 
Gray's  *  Elegy '  was  written,  and  to  dine  with  her  in  town 
next  Wednesday.  Lord  Wensleydale  is  the  Baron  Parke 
about  whose  life  peerage  there  was  such  a  row  a  year  or  two 
liXO.  It  was  finally  settled  by  making  him  a  peer  tout  honnement, 
with  remainder  to  his  lawful  issue,  but  as  he  and  his  wife  are 
about  seventy-five  years  old  each,  and  have  no  sons  as  yet, 
it  seems  likely  enough  that  it  will  remain  a  life  peerage.     I 

VOL.  I.  u 


k 


290  MOTLEY'S  LETTEKS.  [Ca.u'.  IX. 

stopped  at  Cambridge  House  coming  up,  where,  as  usual,  on 
Saturdays,  there  was  an  assembly.  Lady  Palmerston  is  always 
kind  enough  to  invite  me ;  passed  an  hour  or  two  there,  and  I 
returned  at  one  o'clock.  To-day  I  dine  at  Holland  House, 
which  historical  mansion  I  will  describe  in  my  next.  God 
bless  you,  dearest  Mary ;  take  care  of  my  darling  children, 
kiss  them  all  three  a  thousand  times,  and  believe  me. 

Most  affectionately  yours, 

J.  L.  M. 


To  Ms  Wife. 

London, 
July  nth,  1858. 

My  Deaeest  Maey, — I  am  not  able  to  give  you  any  new 
sketches  of  celebrities.  Having  seen  nearly  all  the  prominent 
people  in  London,  chalked  them  out  taut  hien  que  mal  for 
your  entertainment,  I  can  now  do  little  more  than  send  you, 
like  Jenkins,  a  list  of  the  nobility  and  gentry  that  I  meet 
daily  at  dinner  and  other  parties.  Sunday,  I  paid  my 
weekly  visit  to  Mrs.  Norton,  and  found  her  as  agreeable  and 
interesting  as  she  always  is.  Her  talent  for  conversation  is 
almost  as  remarkable  as  her  beauty,  and  even  superior  to  her 
poetic  genius.  I  dined  afterwards  at  Holland  House.  This 
is  a  quaint,  antique  old  manor  house  belonging  to  the  early 
period  of  James  I.,  but  having  the  general  characteristics  of 
the  Elizabethan  mansion.  Built  of  brown  brick,  with  turrets 
and  gables,  mullioned  oriel  windows,  terraces,  stately  stair- 
cases, tapestried  rooms,  and  painted  ceilings,  it  is,  on  not  a 
very  large  scale,  one  of  the  most  beautiful  country  houses  that 
it  is  possible  to  conceive.  It  is  approached  by  a  noble  avenue 
of  lime  trees,  is  surrounded  by  an  ample  lawn,  dotted  with 
oaks^  pastures,  "  where  the  nibbling  sheep  doth  stray,"  and  by 
a  vast  park  of  splendid  forest  trees,  while  close  to  the  house 
are  trixn  gardens,  with  dipt  hedges,  sundials,  fountains,  and 
statues, \ and  "a  lush  of  flowers"  sufficient  to  gladden  the 
soul  of  John  Keats,  and  all  this  in  what  might  be  called  the 
heart  of  Lcpdon,  certaitily  in  its  pericardium. 


IS38.]  HOLLAND  UOUSE.    •  291 

Kensington,  near  which  country  viUage  Holland  House  onco 
stood,  is  already  swallowed  into  the  all-devouring  stomach  of 
London,  assimilated  into  tho  brick  and  mortar  chyle  out  of 
which  the  life  of  that  gigantic  organisation  is  perpetually 
reproduced  and  enlarged.  "  Kensington  Gore  "  is  a  recognised 
street  of  London,  and  the  avenue  gates  of  Holland  House  open 
really  upon  a  continuation  of  Piccadilly.  There  was  a  dis- 
cussion yesterday  where  I  was  dining  about  the  value  of  the 
I^lace  for  Iniilding  purposes.  Lord  Clarendon  said  it  would 
bring  in  an  income  of  £6,000  a  year ;  and  Rothschild,  who  sat 
next  me,  said  it  was  worth  £150,000  at  least.  Yet  the  present 
Lord  Holland  only  lives  here  about  six  weeks  in  the  year, 
residing  the  rest  of  the  time  in  Naples,  where  he  has  a  fine 
house,  as  in  Paris.  He  is  a  singularly  agreeable  person  in 
his  manners.  I  went  out  there  this  day,  having  received  an 
invitation  on  very  brief  acquaintance,  and  expecting  to  find 
myself  rather  awkwardly  placed  among  strangers.  I  got 
there  about  eight  (having  been  invited  for  7.30,  and  this  is 
punctuality  itself),  and  there  were  but  two  persons  in  the 
room.  In  the  twilight  I  did  not  recognise  them,  but  presently 
I  observed  the  familiar  proboscis  of  Lord  Brougham  wagging 
in  a  friendly  manner  towards  me.  He  and  another  gentleman, 
commonly  called  Bear  EUice,  ^vere  the  only  persons  there. 
Brougham  was  very  cross  at  waiting  for  his  dinner,  having  been 
tliere  half  an  hour,  and  Lord  Holland  had  not  shown  himseK. 
Presently  he  came  in  and  apologised  by  saying  that  Lady 
Holland  was  taken  ill  and  could  not  appear.  Brougham's 
wrath  was  mollified,  and  he  became  very  agreeable. 

Lord  and  Lady  Lyndhurst  soon  arrived,  and  with  a  few 
others,  including  the  Due  de  Richelieu  and  some  persons 
whose  names  I  did  not  hear,  the  party  was  complete.  Lord 
Holland  made  me  sit  next  to  him,  and  Lady  Lyndhurst  was 
on  the  other  side,  so  that  I  felt  perfectly  at  home.  Lords 
Lyndhurst  and  Brougham  were  chaflBng  each  other  as  usual. 
Nothing  can  be  more  genial,  genuine,  and  delightful  than 
Lyndhurst's  manner.  He  is  particularly  kind  and  friendly  to 
me  on  all  occasions,  made  me  come  and  sit  with  him  after 
dinner,  and  we  tftlked  together  for  half  an  hour.     Ho  always 

u  2 


292  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  IX. 

expresses  much,  interest  in  my  studies  and  writings,  but  it  is 
not  for  tkat  that  I  like  his  society,  but  because  of  the  magni- 
ficent spectacle  he  affords  of  a  large  bright  intellect  setting 
in  "  one  unclouded  blaze  of  living  light,"  without  any  of  the 
dubious  haze  Avhich  so  often  accompanies  the  termination  of  a 
long  and  brilliant  career.  Everybody  looks  up  to  him  with 
reverence  and  delight.  He  is  full  of  fun,  always  joking,  always 
genial,  and  alive  to  what  is  going  on  around  him  from  day  to 
day.  He  has  made  two  or  three  very  good  speeches  this 
session,  and  is  going  to  make  another,  and  there  is  not  a  sign 
of  senility  in  anything  that  he  says. 

The  next  day  I  went  by  invitation  to  Stoke  Park  to  luncheon. 
This  is  the  beautiful  country  seat  of  Mr.  and  Lady  Mary 
Labouchere.  He  is  a  man  eminent  in  politics,  of  great  wealth 
and  formerly  a  Cabinet  Minister,  as  Secretary  for  the  Colonies. 
She  is  the  youngest  sister  of  Lord  Carlisle  and  the  Duchess  of 
Sutherland,  and  the  most  amiable  creature  living.  Indeed 
the  whole  family  seems  somehow  or  other  to  have  absorbed 
more  gallons  apiece  of  the  milk  of  human  kindness  than 
would  serve  for  the  average  allowance  of  several  hundred 
individuals.  It  is  certainly  agreeable  to  see  people  in  high 
station  and  with  vast  wealth  so  overflowing  with  benevolent 
virtues.  Chill  penury  could  certainly  not  suppress  their 
noble  rage,  but  in  my  experience  I  have  found  that  luxury 
sometimes  has  as  refrigerating  an  effect  upon  the  "  genial 
currents  of  the  soul "  as  poverty  itself.  These  delicious  ex- 
pressions, which  you  recognise,  are  bits  from  that  immortal, 
monumental  poem,  the  '  Elegy  in  the  Country  Churchyard,' 
are  very  a  propos  at  this  moment,  for  the  'Elegy'  was 
composed  on  this  very  spot.  It  was  to  see  the  church  and 
churchyard  that  they  asked  me  out  to  dine.  There  was  no 
company  except  Lord  Carlisle  (whom  I  may  call  now  my  inti- 
mate friend,  for  he  ts  untiring  in  his  demonstrations  of  regard 
for  me),  his  brother  \  Charles  Howard  and  his  mother-in-law 
Lady  Wensleydale.  We  walked  over  the  grounds,  went  to  a 
bit  of  the  old  manor  house  once  the  residence  of  Sir  Chris- 
topher Hatton,  and  then  round  about  the  churchyard. 

It  is  exactly  what  it  ought  to  be ;  and  as  almost  every  line 


\ 


1858.]  STOKE  PAKK— GRAY'S  'ELEGY.'  293 

of  that  poem  has  lingered  in  my  memory  ever  since  I  used  to 
recite  it  when  a  small  boy  to  my  dear  mother,  I  enjoyed  the 
exquisite  fidelity  of  the  description  to  the  actual  scenery, 
^^■hich  is  as  remarkable  as,  on  the  other  hand,  its  broad  lofty 
and  stately  moralisation,  which  would  be  almost  as  true  in  a 
graveyard  in  Wisconsin  or  Connecticut  as  in  Buckingham- 
shire. "  The  rugged  elm  and  yew  trees'  shade  "  are  still  there, 
embowering  the  little  church,  which  stands  on  the  edge  of 
Stoke  Park ;  and  the  little  enclosures,  "  where  heaves  the  turf 
in  many  a  mouldering  heap,"  have  been  literally  ploughed  into 
furrows  by  the  long  succession  of  sowers  and  reapers  in  God's 
acre.  The  "  ivy  mantled  tower,"  where  the  "  moping  owl  doth 
to  the  moon  complain"  is  still  covered  with  its  luxuriant 
festoons,  but  I  regret  to  say  that  the  ivy  looks  sickly  and  as  if 
decaying.  The  church  itself  is  one  of  the  most  exquisite  of 
English  country  churches,  and  this  is  saying  enough.  The 
only  thing  I  missed  was  the  village.  There  is  none  in  sight ; 
and  (at  present  at  least)  there  is  not  much  in  the  stately  and 
sequestered  aristocratic  park  to  suggest  all  those  rural  pic- 
tures which  the  musing,  melancholy  poet  painted,  and  the 
"  rude  forefathers  of  the  hamlet "  driving  their  teams  afield, 
the  busy  housewives*  evening  care,  and  children  climbing  the 
paternal  knee.  All  is  very  still  and  silent,  and  nothing  like 
profane  vulgar  intrudes  upon  the  calm  and  exclusive  scene. 
This  is  what  I  missed  most  in  the  locality.  For  the  rest  it  is 
perfect.  Gray  lies  buried  in  the  same  grave  with  his  mother, 
and  a  plain  monument,  inscribed  with  some  of  the  best  lines  of 
the  elegy,  has  been  erected  in  the  park. 

I  had  to  hurry  to  town  because  I  had  to  dine  out.  This 
day  it  was  at  Lady  Williams,  w  ith  whom  I  dined  once  before. 
She  is  a  very  clever  person,  original  and  rather  funny,  and 
receives  the  best  company  in  London.  There  is  nothing  very 
remarkable  to  say  of  the  entertainment.  Now  that  I  have 
described  to  you  many  dinners,  the  rest  hardly  require  to  be 
sung.  There  are  the  same  dishes,  the  same  w  ines,  the  same 
solemn  stillness,  the  same  gorgeous  flunkeys,  and  a  score  of 
personages  of  quality,  the  same  even  if  different,  for  one  lord 
differeth  less  from  another  in  glory  than  do  the  stars  in  their 


294  MOTLEY'S   LETTERS.  [Chap.  IX. 

courses.  To-day  Avere  again  Lord  Brougham  and  Lord 
Lyndhurst  at  dinner,  whom  I  meet  so  often  that  I  am  gradu- 
ally getting  to  mistake  myself  for  an  Ex-Chancellor,  and  shall 
probably  be  soon  caught  propounding  legal  opinions  Avith 
oracular  gravity  and  expecting  my  Avords  to  be  accepted  as 
oracles. 

On  Tuesday  I  dined  again  at  Holland  House.  (I  have 
been  invited  to  dine  there  four  times  in  a  Aveek,  so  that  if  they 
retain  their  original  maternal  principle  of  the  Holland  House 
organisation,  I  have  a  right  to  conclude  that  they  do  not  con- 
sider me  a  bore.)  The  company  to-day  consisted  of  the  Due 
d'Aumale  (one  of  the  sons  of  King  Louis  Philippe)  and  the 
Duchesse,  Lord  and  Lady  Clarendon,  Macaulay,  Duvergier 
d'Hauranne,  Lady  J.  Kussell,  and  HayAvard.  It  is  alAvays  de- 
lightful to  meet  Macaulay,  and  to  see  the  reverence  Avith  Avhich 
he  is  regarded  by  everybody ;  painful  to  obserA^e  the  friendly 
anxiety  Avhich  every  one  feels  about  his  health.  Sir  H. 
Holland  told  me  his  complaints  AA'ere  bronchial  and  asthmatic, 
but  I  should  haA'e  thought  them  more  like  dropsy.  He  Avas 
obliged  to  leave  the  table  for  a  fcAV  minutes  on  account  of  a 
spasm  of  coughing,  AA'hich  has  been  the  case  ever  since  I  haA'e 
met  him.  I  think,  unless  he  is  much  changed,  that  Sydney 
Smith's  descriptions  or  rather  flings  at  him  are  somcAvhat 
unjust.  He  is  not  in  the  least  the  "  colloquial  oppressor  "  he 
has  been  represented.  On  the  contrary,  every  one  Avishes  to 
hear  him  talk,  and  very  often  people  are  disappointed  because 
he  does  not  talk  enough.  To  be  sure,  a  mind  so  brimful  as  his 
must  spout  forth  uncontrollably,  if  you  once  pull  out  the  plug  ; 
nevertheless  he  is  alAvays  Avilling  to  shut  himself  up  again,  if 
anybody  else  Avishes  to  pour  himself  out.  Usually  nobody 
does  Avhere  he  is  present.  His  conversation  is,  however,  rather 
learned  and  didactic  than  spirituelle.  His  "  brilliant  flashes  " 
are  only  those  of  silen«^e,  according  to  Sydney's  memorable 
sarcasm.  This  is  strange,  for  in  his  AAritings  he  is  brilliant 
and  flashing  almost  to  painfulness,  but  I  observe  nothing 
pointed  or  epigrammatic  ox  humorous  in  his  talk.  It  is  very 
Avise  and  very  instructive,  but  not  the  kind  to  set  the  table  in 

a  roar. 

\ 
\ 


1858]  CASSIOBURY  PARK.  295 

Lord  and  Lady  Clarendon  I  meet  very  often ;  they  are  very 
civil  to  me,  and  arc  both  among  the  most  agrecaLle  people  in 
London.  You  are  aware  that  he  is  one  of  the  most  eminent 
political  characters  in  England,  having  been  a  long  time  a 
Foreign  Minister,  and  subsequently  Minister  of  Foreign 
Affairs.  Ho  is  a  tall,  thin,  handsome,  aristocratic-looking 
person.  His  wife  is  a  blonde,  very  young  for  her  age, 
whatever  it  may  be,  with  an  amiable  manner.  On  Wednes- 
<lay  morning  I  went  out  by  rail  to  Cassiobury  Park,  seat 
of  the  Earl  of  Essex,  to  which  place  I  had  received  an 
invitation  to  a  fete  champetre  or  luncheon  party.  In  the  com- 
partment in  which  I  went  were  Mrs.  Norton,  Lady  Stardey, 
Lord  and  Lady  Airlie,  and  Lord  Stratford  de  Eedcliffe.  The 
party  was  brilliant,  the  park  magnificent,  the  house  stately. 
There  is  nothing  very  exhilarating  to  be  said  of  the  party. 
They  are  generally  somewhat  slow  these  same  country 
festivities.  If  it  were  not  for  Mrs.  Norton  I  should  be  often 
bored  on  such  occasions.  But  she  can  create  an  oasis  in  the 
most  arid  place,  where  one  can  listen  to  the  constant  and 
musical  gurgle  of  her  witty  or  thoughtful  conversation  and  be 
refreshed.  The  luncheon  was  a  kind  of  brief  and  somewhat 
scrambling  dinner.  The  Duke  of  Cambridge,  at  the  board's 
end,  stolid  and  manful,  flanked  by  Malakoff,  looking  like  a 
military  Silenus;  and  at  the  right  of  Lord  Essex  was  the 
Princess  Edward  of  Saxe-Weimar.  I  cannot  give  you  a  list 
of  the  other  swells  who  were  present,  for  I  forget  the  names 
almost  as  soon  as  I  hear  them. 

The  grounds  and  the  gardens,  the  park  and  the  lawn,  looked 
very  brilliant  with  the  rainbow-coloured  petals  of  the  female 
flowers  blooming  out  so  suddenly  in  all  directions,  but  not  to 
blush  unseen,  nor  to  waste  their  sweetness,  and  the  "whole 
dream  of  fair  women  "  was  as  successful  as  such  things  usually 
ixre.  If  I  were  Boccaccio  or  Tennyson,  instead  of  a  somewhat 
slow  and  cynical  Dryasdust,  I  dare  say  I  could  paint  wondrous 
pictures  of  romance  and  poetry  upon  such  a  canvas  as  was  here 
imrolled ;  but  in  my  commonplace  frame  of  mind,  the  scene 
was  commonplace.  As  usual  I  had  to  fidget  into  town  before 
I  was  ready,  in  order  to  be  in  time  to  dress. 


29G  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  IX. 

To-day  Lord  Ijyndhurst  gave  me  a  dinner,  the  company- 
being  invited  to  meet  me.  This  is  a  compliment  of  which  I 
am  very  proud.  The  party  was  a  small  one.  There  was  Lord 
Carlisle,  Lord  Granville,  Lord  Wensleydale,  Mr.  Greville,  Sir 
E.  Landseer,  Lord  Ashburton,  and  Lord  Sefton,  a  youth  who 

reminded  me  somewhat  of  W O ,  being  very  lively,. 

boyish,  and  rattling ;  and  it  was  too  funny  to  hear  him  speak 
incidentally  of  doing  something  or  other  in  the  House  of 
Lords,  with  the  rest  of  the  hereditary  legislators.  The  party 
was  particularly  cosy  and  agreeable,  more  so  than  almost  any 
I  have  assisted  at.  I  consider  it  a  privilege  to  have  known 
so  well  and  seen  so  much  of  Lord  Lyndhurst.  This  day  he 
was  even  more  genial  and  sunny  than  usual.  Lady  Lynd- 
hurst is  always  kind  and  obliging.  On  Friday  I  dined  with 
Lord  Granville.  I  hardly  think  it  worth  my  while  to  rack 
my  memory  to  give  you  a  list  of  the  twenty  persons  present. 
The  lady  next  me  was  agreeable  and  handsome,  and  opposite 
me  was  a  remarkably  pretty  woman.  I  knew  their  name& 
once,  but  have  now  forgotten.  On  my  right  was  rather  an 
amusing  personage  who  had  just  arrived  from  the  Cape  of 
Good  Hope,  and  had  been  in  Cuba  and  the  United  States. 
Then  there  was  a  gigantic  and  agreeable  Eussian  named 
Count  Pahlen,  and  a  famous  homoeopathic  doctor,  Quin,  and  a 
mass  of  others  whom  I  do  not  remember  even  indistinctly. 

Next  day  I  dined  with  Vernon  Smith.  He  was  once  of 
the  Palmerston  Cabinet,  as  Secretary  of  the  Board  of  Con- 
trol for  India.  He  is  a  handsome  man  and  popular  in 
society.  His  wife  is  a  very  pretty  young  woman  of  fifty,  a 
not  very  rare  genus  in  England,  and  an  agreeable,  lively, 
sociable  person.  The  company  were  the  Rothschilds,  Baron^ 
Baroness,  and  daughter,  whom  I  have  already  described  tO' 
you ;  the  Marchioness  of  Clanricarde  and  her  daughter ;  Lord 
and  Lady  Clarendon,  Lord  St.  Germans,  and  Mrs.  Dyce- 
Sombre.  The  latter  personage  was  the  one  w^hom  I  escorted 
to  dinner.  I  had  received  an  invitation  to  dine  the  same  day 
with  Lady  Palmerston,  but  could  not  accept  it,  but  I  went 
there  in  the  evening.  There  were  but  few  persons,  not  a  party 
— Lady  William  Eussell,  Lord  Shaftesbury,  who  invited  me  to 


1S5S.]  LONDON  DINNERS.  297 

make  a  visit  to  him  at  his  country  place,  as  has  also  Lord 
Stanhope,  Lord  Carlisle,  and  many  others,  which  invitations 
of  course  I  cannot  accept.  Kennedy  of  Baltimore  was  there 
also.  I  called  this  morning  on  them.  I  have  got  to  the 
end  of  my  fourth  sheet,  dearest  Mary.  I  dine  to-day  with 
Monckton  Milnes ;  to-morrow  with  Lord  Ashburton,  and  so  on ; 
and  there  is  a  ball  to-morrow  night  at  the  Duchess  of 
Wellington's,  to  which  I  shall  probably  go.  God  bless  you 
and  my  dear  children.  Kiss  them  a  million  times,  and 
believe  me  always, 

Affectionately  yours, 

J.  L.  M. 


To  his  Wife, 

July  I8th,  1858. 

My  dearest  IMary, — I  came  up  this  morning  from  Walton, 
where  I  went  yesterday,  and  found  my  dear  Lily's  letter  on 
my  table,  and  was  much  gratified  by  it,  as  also  by  funny 
little  Susie's  delightful  epistle.  Thank  them  both,  and  kiss 
them,  as  well  as  my  darling  Mary,  a  hundred  times.  I 
also  enclose  a  letter  from  my  mother  just  received,  and  you 
will  be  glad  to  hear  that  she  is  decidedly  better.  I  wTote  to 
her  by  the  last  mail,  and  shall  very  soon  write  again.  I  will 
now  huddle  up  very  rapidly  what  I  have  been  doing  so  far  as 
society  is  concerned,  premising  that  I  have  now  finished  with 
London,  and  that  I  have  declined  all  invitations  for  this 
week. 

On  Sunday  I  dined  with  Monckton  Milnes.  His  wife  I  had 
seen  for  the  first  time  the  evening  before  at  Lady  Palmerston's. 
The  dinner  was  small,  consisting  of  two  Frenchmen,  one,  the 
editor  of  the  Steele,  who  never  could  hear  himseK  talk  enough, 
and  a  Marquis  de  Ribere,  a  Legitimist,  married  to  an  English- 
woman, an  agreeable  and  intelligent  person.  I  have  nothing 
more  to  say  of  this  festivity.  Next  day  I  dined  at  Bath  House, 
the  splendid  mansion  in  Piccadilly  of  Lord  Ashburton.  He  is 
the  sou  of  the  first  Lord  Ashburton,  and  the  head  of  the  second 
branch  of  the  Barings.    He  is  an  exceedingly  shy,  almost 


298  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Cuap.  IX. 

timid,  personage,  but  cultivated  and  friendly.  He  has  a  very- 
fine  collection  of  paintings  in  his  town  house,  and  still  more  at 
his  country  residence,  the  Grange,  to  which  he  has  given  me  a 
very  pressing  invitation.  The  dinner  consisted  of  Lord  and 
Lady  Euston  (the  niece  of  Lord  Ashburton),  Lord  and  Lady 
Dufferin,  Sir  David  Dundas,  Mr.  Drummond,  J\I.P.,  and  Henry 
Taylor,  author  of  'Philip  van  Artevelde.'  The  latter  per- 
sonage, I  think,  I  have  not  before  described  to  you.  He  is 
tall,  apparently  forty-five  or  fifty  years  of  age,  with  a  handsome, 
striking  face,  with  regular  features,  and  long  grizzled  hair,  and 
a  quiet,  perfectly  English  manner.  We  sat  next  each  other 
at  table,  but  his  conversation  was  quite  as  commonplace  as 
mine,  or  any  other  Christian;  it  is  impossible  to  chronicle 
anything  concerning  it.  I  liked  him,  on  the  whole,  as  well  as 
any  literary  man  whom  I  have  met,  always  excepting  Fronde. 
I  had  a  good  deal  of  talk  with  Lady  Dufferin  after  dinner, 
whom  it  is  always  delightful  to  meet. 

In  the  evening  I  went,  with  the  rest  of  the  world  and  wife, 
to  the  Duchess  of  Wellington's  ball.  Apsley  House  is,  on  the 
whole,  the  finest  private  palace  in  London,  except  Stafford 
House.  The  staircase,  corridors,  entrance-hall,  are  all  spacious 
and  imposing  ;  a  heroic,  colossal,  and  very  detestable  statue  of 
Napoleon  salutes  you  in  the  vestibule,  and  there  are  several 
portraits  of  him,  as  well  as  of  great  English  generals  and  com- 
panions in  arms  of  the  Iron  Duke,  upon  the  walls  of  the  various 
saloons.  The  great  dancing  hall  is  very  large  and  lofty,  hung 
in  cherry  colour,  but,  being  well  gilded  and  gas-lighted,  is,  not- 
withstanding, very  brilliant,  and  the  other  rooms  en  suite  are 
elegant  and  palatial.  As  I  know  a  great  many  people  now,  I 
amused  myself  well  enough  for  a  couple  of  hours,  although,  as 
a  general  rule,  I  enjoy  nothing  in  London  but  dinner  parties, 
not  because  I  want  to  eat,  which  you  know  is  not  my  faihlesse, 
but  because  it  is  impossible  to  talk  with  any  comfort  except 
in  a  demi-eoucJiant  attitude,  and  as  my  toes  have  ceased  to 
be  fantastic,  the  dancing  hall  has  no  attractions  for  me,  and 
makes  me  rather  dismal.  "  They  have  dancing  shoes  with 
nimble  soles — I  have  sole  of  lead,"  etc.  I  cannot  say,  however, 
in  my  capacity  of  spectator,  that  the  actors  in  such  scenes 


1S5S.]  LORD  WENSLEYDALE.  299 

seem  inspired  by  any  very  wild  excitement.  Their  tamcness 
is  shucking  to  me,  as  was  that  of  the  "  beasts  that  roared  over 
the  plain  "  to  the  late  Alexander  Selkirk. 

On  Tuesday  I  dined  with  the  Sturgis's,  a  small  party  of 
English,  among  whom  were  Lord  Duflferin  and  Arthur  Kussell, 
and  Lady  Selina  Vernon,  a  great  friend  of  Mrs.  Sturgis,  next 
whom  I  sat  at  dinner.  On  Wednesday  I  dined  by  myself  at 
the  Athenteum.  Thursday  afternoon  Lord  Lyndhurst  took  me 
do\\n  to  the  House  of  Lords,  to  hear  the  commencement  of 
the  India  debate.  It  is  always  a  great  pleasure  to  me  to  see 
Lord  Lyndhurst.  He  is  very  kind  to  me,  always  makes  much 
of  me  when  we  meet  at  dinner  (and  it  has  been  my  privilege 
to  dine  very  often  in  company  with  him),  and  makes  me  help 
him  up  from  his  chair,  and  takes  my  arm  to  go  upstairs,  a  dis- 
tinction I  am  very  proud  of.  He  is  a  most  charming  old  man, 
full  of  fun  and  wit,  interested  in  everything  going  on,  and,  as 
I  am,  much  occupied  with  the  present  as  the  past,  notwith- 
standing his  eighty-six  years.  His  face  is  very  smooth,  less 
wrinkled  than  mine,  so  that  his  brown  wig  is  almost  illusory. 
The  debate  was  rather  poor.  I  heard  the  Earl  of  Derby,  who 
was  fluent  enough  and  graceful,  but  tedious  as  a  king.  After 
him  came  Lord  Granville,  whom  I  like  so  much  personally 
that  I  was  very  glad  to  find  him  a  very  good  orator,  with  an 
admirable  sonorous  voice,  and  with  some  humour  in  his  style 
of  speaking.  I  was  obliged  to  go  off  in  the  middle  of  his 
speech,  because  I  had  promised  to  go  down  to  Walton  to  dine 
(they  moved  there  yesterday),  it  being  Mrs.  Sturgis's  birth- 
day. 

I  came  up  the  following  morning,  being  engaged  to  dine 
with  Lord  and  Lady  Wensleydale.  The  party  was  rather 
made  for  me,  I  believe,  as  I  had  the  honour  of  going  with 
Madame  to  dinner.  He  is  the  famous  Judge,  Baron  Parke, 
a  shrewd,  keen,  quick,  lively,  jolly  personage.  She  is,  not 
unjustly,  vain  of  getting  into  the  peerage  in  her  old  days,  and 
of  having  her  stock  mingled  with  the  blood  of  all  the  Howards, 
her  daughter,  now  dead,  having  been  the  wife  of  Charles 
Howard,  brother  of  Lord  Carlisle.  He  is  a  very  kind-hearted, 
unaffected  person,  like  all  the  family  that  I  know.     The  rest 


300  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  IX. 

of  the  company,  so  far  as  I  remember  them,  were  the  dear  old 
Lord  Lyndhurst,  Dr.  Liishington,  Mr.  Pembertou  Leigh,  a 
distinguished  barrister  (who  I  believe  once  refused  the  Lord 
Chancellorship),  ]Mr.  Fitzgerald,  Under-Secretary  of  State, 
Lady  Cranworth,  Lady  W.  Eussell,  Lady  Robert  Cecil,  and 
one  or  two  more.  After  dinner  came  in  a  reinforcement  from 
without,  among  others  a  person  whom  I  always  like  to  meet — 
Lady  Mary  Labouchere. 

The  next  day  I  had  accepted  an  invitation  to  lunch  with 
Lady  John  Russell,  having  declined  once  or  twice  before.  I 
went  out  by  rail  to  Richmond.  The  weather  was  magnificent, 
and  I  walked  up  the  hill  from  the  station,  and  enjoyed  the 
spacious  and  far-famed  view.  There  was  nobody  at  Pembroke 
Lodge  except  George  Elliot,  Lady  John's  brother,  and  Sir 
George  and  Lady  Theresa  Lewis.  He  was  Chancellor  of  the 
Exchequer  in  the  last  Administration.  Lady  Theresa  is  sister 
to  Lord  Clarendon,  remarkably  clever  and  spirituelle,  full  of 
talk  and  cultivation.  Lord  John  was  very  amusing,  told  lots 
of  anecdotes  aboutl  the  Duke  of  Wellington,  George  IV.,  and 
other  personages  with  much  sly  humour  and  enjoyment.  The 
popular  idea  of  "  Johnny  "  is  that  of  a  cold,  cynical,  reserved 
personage,  but  in  his  own  house  I  never  saw  a  more  agreeable 
manner. 

I  proceeded  afterwards  overland  to  Kingston,  whence  the 
rail  brought  me  to  Walton,  and  the  quiet  scenery  and  friendly 
welcome  which  is  the  lot  of  those  who  are  intimate  in  that 
beautiful  house,  is  most  refreshing. 

God  bless  you,  my  dearest  Mary,  kiss  my  dear  children, 
and  believe  me, 

Most  affectionately  yours, 

J.  L.  M. 


1858.]  JOURNEY  TO  THE  HAGUE.  301 


To  his  Wife. 

Oude  Doelen,  The  Hnpnie. 

July  2Gth,  1858. 

My  dearest  Mary, — Yesterday,  Sunday  morning,  at  10  a.m., 
I  took  the  boat  for  Rotterdam,  arrived  at  that  place  at  8.30 
this  morning,  and  by  rail  at  9.30  reached  this  hotel  by  ten.  So 
that  twenty-four  hours  of  discomfort  and  boredom,  mingled 
with  a  gale  of  wind,  have  saved  me  a  long,  tiresome  and 
expensive  railroad  journey,  had  I  gone  any  other  way.  It 
blew  very  hard  indeed  in  the  morning,  so  that  if  I  had  had 
you  all  with  me  I  should  not  have  gone,  but  luckily  the  wind 
was  very  favourable,  and  as  we  steamed  away  directly  before  it, 
we  were  not  incommoded.  It  faded  out  by  nightfall.  To  go 
back  and  very  rapidly  account  for  myself  since  I  last  wTote. 
On  Monday  I  went  to  Walton,  to  rest  a  little  and  breathe  the 
delicious  country  air,  but  after  two  pleasant  days,  during 
which  Mount  Felix  and  its  occupants  were  as  delightful  and 
friendly  as  ever,  went  over  to  Lord  Lovelace's.  Previously,  on 
the  Tuesday,  Julia  Sturgis  and  I  drove  over  to  Twickenham, 
where  her  boys  are  at  a  private  school,  attended  and  were  some- 
what amused  by  the  distribution  of  prizes,  two  of  which  fell  to 
little  Julian  and  one  to  Harry,  and  then  brought  them  home 
in  a  very  jolly  frame  of  mind  for  the  holidays.  By  appoint- 
ment I  went  to  East  Horsley  Towers  on  Wednesday,  and 
stayed  till  Friday  morning.  I  like  Lady  Annabella  King,  the 
daughter  of  Ada  Byron,  very  much.  She  has  much  talent, 
very  agreeable  manners,  and  a  good  deal  of  fun,  plays  and 
paints  admirably,  and  has  evidently  a  very  sweet  disposition. 
I  returned  to  toNAH  on  Friday,  found  there  a  very  kind  note 
from  Lady  Palmerston  inviting  mo  to  Brocket  Hall  for  the 
three  days  which  had  just  expired  (I  having  been  absent  all 
the  week,  had  not  received  the  note).  I  was  sorry  to  miss 
this,  as  Hayward  told  me  that  the  party  was  very  pleasant  and 
■**  Pam  "  in  excellent  spirits. 

Friday,  I  dined  at  the  Athenssum,  along  with  Hayward,  who 
amuses  me  with  his  malicious  little  anecdotes  about  everybody 
who  ever  is  or  was  in  London ;  Sir  Henry  Eawlinson,  the  cele- 


302  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Cuap.  IX. 

brated  Orientalist ;  tlie  Prince  Frederick  of  Schleswig-Holsteiu, 
one  of  the  deposed  family  of  claimants  to  the  buried  Majesty 
of  Denmark,  and  a  very  accomplished  and  agreeable  young 
man  of  much  character  and  talent  whom  I  met  very  often,  and, 
fourthly,  Kinglake,  author  of  '  Eothen.'  I  forget  whether  you 
read  or  liked  that  remarkable  book,  but  I  have  read  it  more 
than  once,  and  like  it  exceedingly.  It  is  full  to  the  brim  of 
talent  and  caustic  observation,  and  I  was  glad  to  meet  him. 
There  is  nothing  marquant  in  his  appearance  or  conversation. 
He  is  blond  of  beard  and  visage,  fortyish  in  years,  with  a  good 
eye  and  a  pleasant  voice,  like  most  Englishmen.  He  has  thus 
far  made  no  great  figure  in  Parliament.  Good-bye,  God  bless 
you,  dearest  Mary  ;  excuse  the  meagreness  of  this  letter,  but  I 
thought  it  better  to  scribble  off  a  dozen  lines  rather  than  delay 
another  day,  lest  you  should  be  anxious.  I  am  very  tired  and 
stupid,  not  having  slept  in  that  confounded  boat.  Kiss  my 
darlings  a  thousand  times. 

Ever  affectionately, 

J.  L.  M. 


(    303     ) 


CHAPTEE  X. 

THE   HAGUE. 

Work  nt  the  Hague — The  National  Archives — Presentation  to  the  Queen  of 
Holland — "  The  House  in  the  Wood  " — A  royal  dinner  party — Prince 
Frederick — The  American  Revivalists — Lord  Dunfermline — Family  anni- 
versaries— A  Dutch  literary  celebrity — The  King  of  Holland — Court  Fetes — 
Court  Ball  in  Amsterdam — Prince  Henry — The  Prince  of  Orange. 

To  his  Wife. 

The  Hague, 
August  \st,  1858. 

My  DEAREST  Mary, — I  wrote  you  on  Monday  last,  the 
morning  of  my  arrival  in  this  place.  To-day  I  resume  my 
Sunday  letters,  although  I  fear  they  will  be  rather  meagre  in 
future.  This  is  not  so  large  a  town  as  London.  I  saw  M. 
Groen  van  Prinsterer  the  morning  of  my  arrival.  He  is  going 
away  immediately,  to  my  regret,  on  a  journey  of  some  weeks, 
and  will  hardly  be  back  till  after  my  departure.  However  he 
has  already  published  a  second  volume  of  his  documents  from 
the  private  Archives  of  the  Orange-Nassau  family,  so  that  I 
have  no  special  need  of  his  presence,  as  everything  which  I 
require  in  that  collection  is  now  printed  in  a  most  convenient 
and  readable  form.  With  regard  to  the  great  collection  of 
national  Archives,  I  have  of  course  immediately  plunged  over 
head  and  ears  in  them.  My  old  friend,  Backhuyzen  van  der 
Brink  is  on  the  spot.  It  is  of  great  service  to  have  his  intro- 
duction to  the  Holland  public.  Madame  Groen,  on  taking 
leave  of  the  Queen  the  day  of  my  arrival,  told  her  that  I  was 
here,  and  the  same  day  I  saw  Count  Bylandt.  He  told  me 
that  the  Queen  expressed  disappointment  to  him  in  January 
that  she  did  not  see  me  in  my  visit  at  that  time,  so  that  he 
said  he  was  glad  to  find  that  I  had  kept  my  promise  of  return- 
ing. Count  Randwyk  called  on  me,  with  Bylandt,  the  evening  of 
the  day  of  my  arrival,  and  accordingly  the  next  day  I  addressed 


204  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  X. 

a  note  to  him  requesting  the  honour  of  a  presentation,  etc.  I 
received  an  answer  the  same  morning  appointing  the  interview 
for  3.30  P.M.  Accordingly  I  drove  out  at  that  time  to  the 
"  House  in  the  Wood  "  (Huis  ten  Bosch),  in  Avhich  beautiful 
little  villa  in  the  very  heart  of  the  forest  she  is  at  present 
residing,  the  King  being  at  Wiesbaden. 

I  was  received  in  the  large  saloon  by  an  elderly  maid  of 
honour,  who  entertained  me  with  discourse  on  various  subjects, 
social,  literary,  and  political,  for  a  few  minutes,  and  then  I  was 
sent  for,  and  she  piloted  me  to  her  Majesty.  The  Queen 
received  me  at  the  door,  quite  without  ceremony,  with  "  I  am 
so  glad  to  make  your  acquaintance,  Mr.  Motley,  pray  sit  down ;" 
so  she  seated  herself  on  her  sofa  and  made  me  take  a  fauteuil 
near  it,  and  then  she  conversed  with  me  for  about  half  an  hour 
in  the  most  unaffected,  simple,  and  agreeable  manner  possible. 
She  is  tall,  very  fair,  and  must  have  had  a  great  deal  of  blonde 
German  beauty.  She  was  very  simply  dressed,  but  I  am  sorry 
for  Susie's  sake  that  I  have  entirely  forgotten  her  costume. 
Her  teeth  are  beautiful,  and  her  hands  small,  white,  and 
exquisitely  shaped.  Her  voice  is  agreeable  and  she  speaks 
English,  not  only  with  great  elegance  and  fluency,  but  almost 
entirely  without  a  foreign  accent.  This  by  the  way  was  one  of 
the  compliments  which  she  paid  me,  observing  "  how  beauti- 
fully you  speak  English,"  adding,  "  for  to  tell  you  the  truth  we 
think  we  can  always  tell  the  difference,  and  we  do  not  like 
American  English  generally  so  well,  but  you  seem  to  me  to 
speak  like  an  Englishman,"  etc.  She  said  a  great  many 
things  in  a  very  graceful  way  about  the  'Dutch  Eepublic,' 
asked  me  how  I  came  originally  to  take  up  the  subject,  and 
alluded  to  various  |:)ortions  of  the  work,  etc. 

She  spoke  of  Lady\W.  Eussell  as  an  old  friend  for  whom  she 
had  much  affection,  anJi  expressed  disappointment  that  she  had 
never  been  at  the  Hague.  We  talked  a  good  deal  too  about 
Mrs.  Norton,  of  whom  she  expressed  the  most  unbounded  ad- 
miration for  her  genius  and  the  charm  of  her  conversation.  I 
hardly  remember  much  mo^e  of  her  conversation.  She  is  cer- 
tainly very  clever,  remarkably  intelligent,  and  with  a  great  deal 
of  information  on  all  subjects,  a  person  who  has  read  much  and 


1858.]  THE  QUEEN  OP  HOLLAND.  305 

acquired  much  and  with  much  capacity  for  thought  on  high 
and  important  matters. 

Altogether  I  have  rarely  made  a  morning  visit  on  any  lady 
where  the  conversation  was  more  fluent,  lively,  and  interesting. 
The  best  compliment  I  can  pay  her  is,  that  one  quite  forgets 
that  she  is  a  queen,  and  only  feels  the  presence  of  an  intelli- 
gent and  very  attractive  woman. 

The  interview  lasted  so  long  as  to  make  me  think,  contrary 
to  the  rule  of  courts,  that  I  was  to  take  my  leave,  and  I  said, 
"  Your  Majesty  must  send  me  away  if  I  am  tiresome,"  but  she 
said,  "  No,  no,  do  not  go,  what  have  you  got  to  do,  do  you  dine 
out  ?  "  I  said  yes,  but  that  was  nothing,  and  it  was  a  long 
time  to  the  dinner  hour.  I  desired  nothing  better  than  to  stay, 
etc.  So  we  talked  on  some  time  longer,  and  then  she  rose, 
saying,  "Will  you  have  the  kindness  to  dine  with  me  the  day 
after  to-morrow  at  5.30  ?  "  Of  course  I  accepted,  made  my  bow 
and  departed.  I  dined  that  day  with  a  gentleman,  a  friend  of 
Groen  van  Prinsterer's,  M.  Elout  de  Soeterwonde,  a  man  of 
much  distinction,  literary,  cultivated,  a  member  of  the  States 
General  and  a  judge.  He  called  on  me  the  day  of  my  arrival, 
saying,  that  every  Hollander  had  a  right  to  my  acquaintance, 
etc.,  and  I  found  his  family  very  pleasant.  His  wife  is  a  very 
pretty,  pleasing  woman,  and  to  my  profound  astonishment  she 
informed  me  that  she  had  seven  children.  They  live  in  a  very 
pretty,  old-fashioned  house  on  the  edge  of  the  wood  called  the 
fluister  Noot,  not  far  from  the  Hotel  Bellevue. 

It  was  a  kind  of  family  party,  brothers  and  sisters-in-law, 
and  so  on,  but  they  were  all  friendly  and  kind-hearted  and 
intelligent,  and  I  was  glad  to  see  something  of  the  interior  of 
the  best  Holland  families.  On  Friday  I  dined  by  appointment 
with  the  Queen.  The  company — about  sixteen  or  eighteen  in  all, 
male  and  female — were  received  by  a  tall  chamberlain  (nobody 
was  in  uniform)  and  ushered  into  one  of  the  large  saloons. 
Here,  as  usual  on  such  occasions,  we  were  all  stuck  up  in  a  cir- 
cular row,  like  the  jars  in  the  "  Forty  Thieves,"  and  presently 
entered  the  Queen  like  Morgiana,  and  went  round  dropping  a 
few  words  into  the  ears  of  each. 

After  this  process  was  got  through  with  (and  she  talked 

VOL.  I.  X 


306  MOTLEY'S  LETTEES.  [Chap.  X. 

to  me  a  good  while),  we  went  to  dinner.  Queen  first  alone, 
then  the  ladies  were  all  driven  in  by  the  master  of  the  cere- 
monies by  themselves,  and  then  the  gentlemen  followed  helter 
skelter,  each  having  been  previously  informed  where  he  was 
to  place  himself  at  table,  something  according  to  the  Peabody 
system. 

I  hardly  knew  the  names  of  the  company.  The  Belgian 
minister  and  his  wife,  the  Danish  minister.  Count  Eandwyck, 
a  professor  of  botany,  and  various  ladies  of  honour,  etc.  The 
Queen  sat  in  the  middle  of  the  table,  the  two  ministers  one  on 
each  side  of  her,  I  sat  opposite  her  with  Count  Eandwyck  on 
my  right,  and  a  very  chatty  agreeable  maid  of  honour  on  my 
left,  who  had  accompanied  the  Queen  last  year  to  England,  and 
knew  a  great  many  people  that  I  knew. 

The  dinner  was  very  good,  better  on  the  whole  than  most  of 
the  London  dinners,  and  the  only  fault  was  the  march  of  the 
dishes,  which  was  rapid  enough  to  suit  Mr.  Cabot.  There  was 
no  pausing,  and  as  I  cannot  talk  with  my  mouth  full,  I  was 
obliged  either  to  hold  my  tongue  half  the  time,  or  lose  half  my 
dinner.  Now  strange  to  say,  or  very  naturally,  I  have  recently 
a  great  appetite  produced  by  going  into  the  North  Sea  every 
morning  before  breakfast,  a  system  which  I  shall  keep  up  as 
long  as  I  am  here,  although  it  costs  me  two  hours  and  two 
francs  per  diem,  all  of  which  I  begrudge.  After  dinner  (which 
by  the  way  was  in  the  great  circular  hall  built  by  Amalia  de 
Solms,  wife  of  Frederic  Henry,  youngest  son  of  William  the 
Silent,  and  adorned  by  magnificent  frescoes  by  the  scholars  of 
Rubens),  we  returned  and  made  another  circle  in  the  saloon, 
had  our  coffee,  and  the  Morgianic  process  was  repeated.  The 
Queen  stopped  and  talked  with  me  a  long  time  about  English 
society,  the  Palmerstons,  Clarendons,  Hollands.  She  also 
spoke  of  Madame  Mohl  and  her  husband  (of  which  last  couple 
she  spoke  with  much  kindness).  By  the  way,  she  observed  to 
me  the  day  beft)re  that  she  had  never  been  able  to  make  out 
whether  Madame  Mohl  wore  her  own  hair  or  a  wig,  but  I  told 
her  she  might  set  her  mind  entirely  at  rest  on  that  subject. 
No  human  intellect  could  ever  conceive,  or  the  hand  of  man 
execute  such  a  wonderful  Medusa  crop,  nor  would  it  be  within 


I 


1858.]  THE  ROYAL  FAMILY  OP  HOLLAND.  307 

the  resources  of  science  to  manufacture  any  artificial  covering 
which  would  stand  all  the  tugging  and  tossing  to  which  those 
serpent  locks  were  daily  subjected.  The  Queen  agreed  with 
me  that  there  never  was  a  kinder-hearted  or  more  amusing  or 
original  little  old  woman  in  the  world. 

The  next  day  I  had  an  audience  of  Prince  Frederic,  uncle  of 
the  King.  He  had  mentioned  me  as  having  been  presented  to 
the  Queen,  and  of  course  it  was  necessary  for  me  to  call  like- 
wise upon  him.  He  is  a  man  of  sixty,  very  mild  and  amiable 
in  character  and  manners,  married  to  a  sister  of  the  King 
of  Prussia,  and  of  the  Empress  of  Russia,  and  I  believe  a  very 
noble  and  unexceptionable  character.  The  interview  lasted 
about  three  quarters  of  an  hour.  He  was  very  frank  and 
cordial,  of  course  made  the  *  Dutch  Republic '  the  principal  topic 
for  a  long  time,  and  then  discoursed  on  other  matters.  I  do 
not  think  I  can  recollect  anything  of  the  conversation,  but  he 
seemed  very  amiable  and  simple,  and  was  certainly  very  friendly. 
He  said  at  parting,  he  hoped  he  did  not  see  me  for  the  last  time, 
and  I  dare  say  I  shall  be  invited  to  dine  at  his  country  place, 
where  he  is  staying,  a  few  miles  out  of  town.  These  matters 
are  a  little  interruption,  but  the  place  is  so  quiet  and  small 
that  I  have  plenty  of  working  hours,  whereas  in  London  the 
enormousness  of  all  dimensions  makes  one's  time  shrivel  into 
nothingness,  and  each  day  shrinks  into  an  hour  so  far  as  any 
real  work  is  concerned. 

Ever  most  affectionately  yours, 

J.  L.  M. 


To  his  Wife. 

The  Hague, 
Aufjuat  15th,  1858. 

My  dearest  IVIary, — I  work  every  morning  at  home  two 
hours  before  breakfast,  then  go  to  the  Archives  till  three, 
after  which,  in  the  course  of  the  day  and  evening,  I  get  a  few 
hours  more.  I  am  more  than  ever  desponding  about  my  task. 
It  is  very  extensive,  laborious,  and  expensive.  I  am  obliged 
to  travel  over  thousands  of  square  miles  of  documents  followed 

X  2 


308  MOTLEY'S  LETTEES.  [Chap.  X. 

by  a  couple  of  copyists,  who  will,  of  course,  require  treble  tlie 
time  to  write  which  it  takes  me  to  read,  and,  without  reckoning 
the  confounded  expense  of  the  whole  business,  there  is  such  an 
endless  amount  of  time  to  be  consumed  in  waiting. 

I  have  dined  out  four  times  this  week,  but  I  do  not  think  I 
could  find  much  entertainment  for  you  in  a  description  of  these 

festivities.   On  Monday  I  dined  with  Mr. .    They 

are  friendly  people,  intensely  religious,  and  I  dare  say  they 
think  me  a  violent  uncompromising  Calvinist  like  themselves. 
On  this  occasion  there  were  some  raw  Scotchmen,  just  de- 
scended from  their  native  heath  and  mad  with  orthodoxy. 
One  of  them  observed,  on  some  reference  to  the  late  revival  in 
America,  that  the  hand  of  the  Lord  was  most  manifest  in 
that  great  and  wonderful  development.  He  then  gave  an 
instance  of  a  mercantile  friend,  who  had  gone  out  to  New 
York  in  the  midst  of  the  commercial  crisis  to  collect  some 
money  owing  to  him,  but  who  had  naturally,  like  every  other 
creditor,  been  referred  to  the  town  pump  for  liquidation.  He 
had  brought  back,  however,  something  far  better  than  silver  or 
gold,  for  he  had  himself  experienced  religion  in  New  York, 
and  had  returned  a  regenerated  sinner,  a  brand  snatched  from 
the  burning.  These  were  almost  his  exact  expressions — saving 
the  irreverent  allusions  to  the  pump — and  I  thought  the  idea 
of  the  New  Yorkers  paying  off  their  Scotch  creditors  by 
unlimited  draughts  upon  the  treasures  of  the  next  world  one 
of  the  best  dodges  I  have  yet  heard  of.  I  could  hardly  sit 
still  in  my  chair — however,  I  kept  my  countenance  and  looked 
edified. 

The  next  day  I  dined  with  a  young  couple,  de  Jonghe.  He 
is  a  very  nice  fellow,  who  is  employed  in  the  Archives,  but 
seems  to  have  property  of  his  own,  and  is  of  good  family.  His 
fathet  was  a  distinguished  man  of  letters  here.  His  wife  is 
a  pretty,  pleasing  person,  talking  English — as  many  of  the 
women  here  do — perfectly. 

The  next  day  I  dined  with  Lord  Dunfermline.     The  party 

was  the  sai^e  as  the  last  time  I  dined  there,  with  the  addition 

of  Bylandt,  and  the  subtraction  of  Spanish  Minister  and  his 

daughter.    Tb^y  (the  D.'s)  are  very  friendly,  unaffected  people, 

\ 


1858.]  THE  HAGUE.  309 

and  I  like  them  very  much.     Day  after  to-morrow  I  am  to  dino 
with  Baron  Golsteiu,  the  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs. 

Ever  yours, 

J.  L.  M. 


To  his  Wife. 

The  Hague, 
Augmt  2dth,  1858. 

My  dearest  Mary, — Since  I  last  wrote  I  have  had  the 
pleasure  of  receiving  your  letters  from  Geneva,  and  two 
from  Vevay,  also  Susie's  and  Mary's,  and  a  long  and  very 
charmingly  written  letter  from  my  dear  Lily,  taking  great 
pains,  and  very  successfully,  to  impart  to  me  a  portion  of  the 
pleasure  which  she  has  derived  from  the  excursion  to 
Ohamouni.  I  am  so  glad  you  and  she  were  not  disappointed, 
that  you  found  the  Amory  party  so  friendly,  and  that  the 
weather  was  so  auspicious.  I  am  sure  I  wish  you  could  have 
more  such  amusements. 

Before  I  go  any  further,  let  me,  after  thanking  my  sweet 
little  Mary  for  her  letter  expressing  sorrow  that  I  should 
have  written  upon  August  1st,  and  not  have  remembered  at 
the  moment  that  it  was  her  fifteenth  birthday.  She  knows 
how  much  I  love  her,  and  if  I  did  not  say  anything  about  her 
fete,  it  was  from  no  want  of  interest  in  such  a  day.  My 
darling  child !  It  seems  impossible  that  she  can  have  lived 
fifteen  years  in  this  weary  world,  for  she  seems  as  young  and  as 
innocent  now  as  if  she  had  just  descended  from  heaven.  I 
never  feel  as  if  I  had  any  right  to  her,  and  I  can  never  express 
half  the  tenderness  and  the  affection  I  feel  for  her.  Since  she 
has  been  in  the  world  she  has  been  a  blessing  and  a  consola- 
tion, and  she  can  never  cause  you  or  me  any  unhappiness, 
except  she  should  die,  which  God  in  His  mercy  forbid !  My 
little  impudent,  nonsensical,  good-hearted  Susie,  too,  is  getting 
to  be  a  very  good  child,  and  in  time,  when  she  can  be  induced 
to  talk  a  little  and  get  up  an  appetite  for  her  dinner,  she  will 
be  all  that  can  be  wished  for. 

Affectionately  yours, 

J.  L.  M. 


310  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  X. 


To  Us  Wife. 

The  Hague, 
September  3rd,  1858. 

My  deaeest  Maey,— The  other  day  I  received  a  visit,  while 
I  was  seated  at  my  solitary  breakfast  in  the  salle  a  manger,  from 
a  benignant  old  gentleman,  who  came  forward  smiling,  and  said, 

"  Mr.  Motley,  I  believe."     "  Yes."     "  Well,  I  am ." 

I  looked  as  conscious  as  I  could,  at  a  moment's  warning,  of 
being  in  the  presence  of  a  celebrity ;  but  as  I  had  rarely  or 

never  heard  of  the  great  ,  I  was  a  little  embarrassed,  not 

knowing  exactly  what  his  particular  line  of  eminence  might  be. 
He  relieved  me,  however,  by  seating  himself  at  once  at  my 
table  as  spectator,  not  participator,  and  informing  me  that  he 
was  the  author  of  many  poems,  histories,  dramas,  and  political 
pamphlets.  He  made  a  slight  but  handsome  allusion  to  the 
D.  E.,  but  to  my  great  relief  he  evidently  preferred  talking  of 
his  own  performances,  which  he  was  good  enough  to  do  for 
about  half  an  hour  without  cessation.  As  his  English,  which 
he  insisted  upon  talking,  was  imperfect,  and  his  teeth,  I  regret 
to  say,  still  more  so,  I  was  not  able  to  enter  into  the  full 
current  of  his  conversation.  Moreover,  as  he  took  snuff  to  such 
an  extent  as  to  make  him  decidedly  unpleasant,  I  should  have 
preferred  to  receive  his  visit  after  breakfast.  He  observed, 
quoting  Lord  Byron,  that  "  the  myrtles  and  roses  of  sweet  two- 
and-twenty  were  worth  all  your  laurels  however  so  plenty.'* 
From  which  I  inferred  that  his  head  was  crowned  with  laurels, 
for  there  could  certainly  be  nothing  in  common  with  him  and 
the  other  two  shrubs.  I  am  sure  I  do  not  know  why  I  am 
boriiig  you  with  the  portraiture  of  this  individual,  except  that 
the  wi^ek  is  sterile  in  topics  for  your  entertainment.  Moreover, 
it  is  too  bad  in  me  to  ridicule  a  personage  who,  I  have  since 
been  informed,  is  really  a  deserving  and  eminent  man  of 
letters,  and  who  came  to  see  me  as  a  mark  of  politeness,  and 
begged  me,  if  I  came  to ,  to  make  his  house  my  home. 

The  King  returned  last  Friday,  and  on  the  following 
Monday  I  md  an  interview  with  him  at  the  palace  at  the 
Northend,  the  one  opposite  which  is  the  equestrian  statue  of 


185S.]  THE  KING  OF  HOLLAND.  811 

William  tho  Silent.  I  drove  thither  by  appointment  at  12.30, 
and  was  ushered  into  a  very  small  room,  where  I  was  left  for 
a  little  while  in  the  company  of  an  inkstand  and  a  sheet 
of  paper,  in  case,  I  suppose,  that  if  any  reflections  suggested 
themselves,  I  might  instantly  reduce  them  to  writing.  Soon 
afterwards  two  young  aides-de-camp  came  in,  one  a  whis- 
kered light-infantry  man,  the  other  a  fierce  Hussar,  and 
after  bowing  profoundly,  they  both  began  conversing  with 
me  on  the  subject  of  the  D.  R,  of  which  I  am,  without  affec- 
tation, getting  as  tired  as  ever  was  a  wandering  dog  of  a 
tin  canister  tied  to  its  tail.  Exactly  as  the  clock  struck  the 
half-hour,  the  door  opened,  and  a  stoutish,  youngish,  tallish 
man,  in  a  blue  cut-away  coat,  checked  shirt  with  a  turn- 
down collar  and  grey  trousers,  walked  up  to  me  and  said  in 
English  with  a  loud  voice, "  Mr.  Motley,  you  have  written  a  most 
magnificent  work,  and  I  am  proud  to  make  your  acquaintance." 
Whereupon  I  shrewdly  suspected  the  individual  to  be  his 
Majesty,  although  I  had  expected  to  be  ushered  through  six 
more  rooms  at  least ;  but  the  King  is  one  of  those  royal  person- 
ages who  has  the  good  sense  to  leave  a  gap  in  the  hedge  of  his 
divinity  for  special  occasions.  I  must  say  that  he  made  a  very 
agreeable  impression  upon  me ;  and  you  will  say,  of  course,  that 
this  is  on  account  of  my  susceptibility  to  flattery.  I  know  it 
to  be  a  weakness,  but  if  people  are  very  polite  and  complimen- 
tary and  kind  to  me,  whether  they  are  kings  and  queens,  or 
only  knaves  or  persons  of  lesser  rank,  I  am  but  too  apt  to 
respond — I  cannot  help  it. 

The  King  is  forty-one,  but  looks  younger,  having  thick, 
brown,  ungrizzled  hair  and  beard,  a  fresh,  smooth,  unwrinkled 
face,  regular  features,  a  clear  blue  eye,  and  a  tall,  erect, 
muscular,  and  graceful  figure.  He  speaks  English  with  a 
good  accent  and  in  rather  a  violent  manner,  as  if  he  was 
disposed  to  tear  through  all  idiomatic  difficulties  by  main 
force.  He  Avas  very  cordial  and  agreeable,  and  kept  me  about 
three-quarters  of  an  hour,  and  at  departing  hoped  he  should 
have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  me  again.  Two  days  afterwards 
I  received  a  package  containing  the  twelve  volumes  of  Groen 
van  Priusterer's  'Archives  et  Correspondance  de  la  Maison 


312  MOTLEY'S  LETTEES.  [Chap.  X. 

d'Orange,'  splendidly  bound  and  gilt,  with  a  note  from  the 
King's  librarian  informing  me  that  it  was  a  present  from  his 
Majesty.  On  the  first  page  of  the  first  volume,  moreover,  the 
King  had  written  this  inscription,  which,  as  I  shall  be  obliged 
to  pack  up  the  books,  you  will  like  me  to  copy,  so  excuse  the 
vanity  of  the  proceeding : — 

"  A  Mr.  J.  L.  Motley,  historien  conscientieux  et  eloquent,  au 
digne  appreciateur  du  1"  Guillaume  d'Orange,  le  plus  grand 
homme  de  son  epoque,  est  offert  de  souvenir,  comme  temoignage 
d'estime  et  d'admiration. 

"  GrUILLAUME  III   d'OrANGE, 

"  Roi  des  Pays-Bas. 

"  La  Haye,  31  Aout  1858." 

Perhaps  the  chief  pleasure  that  I  derive  from  this  present 
is  the  proof  which  it  affords  that  the  King  thoroughly 
appreciates  the  grandeur  of  his  immortal  ancestor  and 
namesake,  and  religiously  cherishes  his  glory  and  his  memory. 
I  am  invited  to  a  Court  ball  at  Amsterdam  on  Tuesday 
night.  The  fetes  of  the  birthday  of  the  Prince  of  Orange 
(yesterday,  4th)  consisted  in  a  dinner  to  the  Ministers  of 
State,  and  Chiefs  of  Foreign  Legations,  and  the  ball,  day  after 
to-morrow,  to  which  the  foreign  ministers  are  not  invited,  so 
that  I  shall  hardly  find  an  acquaintance  there.  I  wrote  to  the 
Marechal  de  la  Cour  that  I  had  no  court-dress,  the  invitation 
being  to  a  "bal  gala,"  but  I  received  in  consequence  an 
invitation  to  come  "  en  frac,"  and  to  Amsterdam  I  must  go. 
Fortunately  the  Danish  Minister,  who  is  the  most  kind- 
hearted,  obliging  fellow  in  the  world,  is  going  to  stay  on  after 
the  dinner  at  Amsterdam,  and  has  promised  to  see  that  I 
have  a  room,  a  carriage,  together  with  his  own  servant  to  go 
to  the  ballVwith  me.  His  name  is  de  Bille ;  he  was  brought  up 
in  Americayy where  his  father  was  minister,  and  he  is  the  most 
amiable  creature  living.  It  is  my  present  intention  to  leave 
the  Hague  fonArnheim  this  day  week,  on  my  way  to  Vevay.  I 
may  possibly  stf)p  one  day  with  Bismarck  if  he  is  at  Frankfort, 
but  I  think  I  ^all  be  with  you  at  latest  this  day  fortnight, 
perhaps  a  little  earlier. 


1858.]  COURT  BALL  AT  AMSTERDAM.  313 

The  weather  has  been  dreary  for  a  fortnight,  I  hope  you 
have  it  better  in  Switzerhind. 

Good-bye,  my  dearest  Mary.  My  love  to  my  dear  children. 
God  bless  you ! 

Ever  affectionately  yours, 
J.  L.  M. 

P.S. — I  forgot  to  mention  that,  by  a  rather  odd  coincidence, 
on  the  same  day  on  which  I  received  the  King's  present,  I 
took  from  the  post  oflSce  a  letter  from  one  John  Hopkins  of 
Chattanooga,  Tennessee,  informing  me  that  "  some  weeks 
since  a  bookseller,  of  whom  he  was  making  some  purchases, 
insisted  until  he  purchased  the  D.  R. ;  "  he  then  declares 
himself  highly  gratified  by  the  perusal  of  the  work,  and 
expresses  a  thousand  wishes  for  my  happiness. 

J.  L.  M. 


To  his  Wife. 

The  Hague, 
September  11th,  1858. 

My  dearest  Mary, — I  have  neither  time  nor  topics  for 
anything  but  a  very  brief  epistle.  I  leave  to-morrow  morning 
early  for  Arnheim,  thence  I  intend  to  make  a  brief 
excursion  to  Zutphen  for  the  sake  of  seeing  that  town,  which 
was  the  scene  of  many  events  in  the  period  I  am  to  write 
about,  and  the  neighbouring  village  of  Warmfeld,  where  Sir 
Philip  Sidney  was  killed.  I  suppose  I  shall  sleep  at  Zutphen 
to-morrow  night,  and  the  next  day  get  as  far  as  Bonn, 
thence  to  Mayence,  Bale,  and  Vevay.  If  Bismarck  is  at 
Frankfort,  I  shall  pass  a  day  with  him  there,  if  not  I  shall 
not  go  to  Frankfort  at  all.  I  may  arrive  on  Thursday.  I 
may  not  get  to  Vevay  till  Saturday.  I  hope  that  you  got  my 
note  from  Amsterdam  and  acted  upon  it  immediately. 

The  ball  at  the  Amsterdam  palace  was  much  like  other 
Court  balls,  or  rather  it  was  much  unlike  them  in  one  respect, 
the  Hague  Society  was  not  there.  As  Touchstone  would  have 
said  in  respect  that  it  is  at  Amsterdam,  it  liketh  me  well,  but 


314  MOTLEY'S  LETTEKS.  [CiiAr.  X. 

in  respect  it  is  not  at  Court,  'tis  a  very  vile  ball.  In  fact  it 
was  rather  a  national  sort  of  thing.  The  marechals  and  cham- 
berlains of  the  Court,  and  other  swells  were  there,  and  of  course 
the  royal  family  and  their  hangers-on,  but  no  other  ladies  from 
the  Hague.  The  royal  family  were  all  very  civil  to  me.  The 
king  came  up  to  me  very  early  in  the  evening,  shook  hands 
very  cordially,  and  after  talking  with  me  some  time,  said  his 
brother  Prince  Henry  wished  to  make  my  acquaintance,  and 
if  I  would  come  with  him,  he  would  introduce  me.  So  we 
v,'ent  together  to  the  next  room,  and  I  was  presented.  Prince 
Henry  is  a  young,  delicate-looking  fellow,  rather  shy,  and  I 
believe  quite  intelligent.  He  talked  about  America,  where  he 
was  once,  and  seemed  to  have  been  very  much  pleased  with  his 
visit.  The  Prince  of  Orange  came  up  to  me  as  soon  as  he  saw 
me,  and  the  king  introduced  me.  He  is  rather  tall,  and  very 
slight  in  figure,  with  a  very  interesting  and  amiable  face, 
resembling  very  much  his  mother.  I  believe  he  is  considered 
very  kind-hearted,  disposed  to  act  well  his  part,  and  with  very 
good  talents.  The  Queen  says  he  is  lazy,  but  she  is  very  fond 
of  him.  His  manner  is  extremely  good.  I  was  also  intro- 
duced to  the  Princess  Frederic,  who  is  an  intelligent  and 
accomplished  person,  the  sister  of  the  King  of  Prussia  and  of 
the  Empress-dowager  of  Eussia,  and  also  of  the  Princess 
Henry,  who  is  very  lively,  young,  and  jolly,  daughter  of  Duke 
Bernhard  of  Saxe  Weimar,  who  travelled  in  America,  and  was 
the  hero  of  the  famous  story  about  "  Are  you  the  man  who  is 
going  in  the  stage  to  Baltimore  ?  "  "  Yes."  "  Well,  I  am  the 
gentleman  who  is  going  to  drive  you." 

I  was  just  going  to  ask  her  if  she  remembered  the  story, 
when  the  music  struck  up  a  tremendous  flourish  and  drowned 
the  conversation. 

I  must  breaks^  off  short  here,  dearest  Mary,  for  I  have  a 
million  things  t6\do.  Give  a  thousand  kisses  to  my  dear 
children,  and  believe  me  always, 

Most  affectionately  yours, 

J.  L.  M. 


(    315    ) 


CHAPTER    XI. 

ROME,   PAKIS. 

Rome— Allibone'a  notice  of  the  '  History ' — Other  letters  of  commendation — Work 
on  the  '  History  of  the  United  Netherlands ' — Its  difficulties — Want  of  a  hero 
— Mr.  Story— Letter  from  M.  Guizot  about  the  'Dutch  Republic' — The 
Prince  of  Wales  in  Rome — Outbreak  of  the  war  in  Italy — Mr.  Motley  and 
family  go  to  Paris — Causes  and  prospects  of  the  war— Return  to  England — 
Gloomy  prospects  of  European  politics. 

To  his  Mother. 

Rome, 
October  10th,  1858. 

My  DEAREST  Mother, — I  write  a  line  in  the  midst  of  great 
confusion,  merely  to  let  you  know  that  we  have  arrived  in  this 
place  for  the  winter.  We  are  still  in  the  hotel,  and  our  trunks 
are  still  packed,  so  I  cannot  get  your  letter  to  Mary  (which 
we  had  the  great  pleasure  of  receiving  just  before  we  left 
Vevay)  to  read  over  again,  which  I  shall  be  most  delighted  to 
do  the  first  thing  after  we  get  established.  We  have  taken  a 
lodging,  very  satisfactory  on  the  whole,  on  the  Corso,  with 
plenty  of  rooms,  new  furniture,  and  sunny.  It  will  be  ready 
for  us  in  five  days,  and  I  hope  to  get  to  work  very  soon 
afterwards.  The  Storys  whom  we  expected  to  find  already 
returned  from  the  country  are  not  yet  here,  but  are  expected 
every  day. 

I  am  most  happy  to  hear  from  yourself  such  good  accounts 
of  your  health.  I  do  entertain  very  sincere  hopes  that  you 
have  turned  the  comer,  and  that  your  constitution  will  prove 
itself  much  stronger  than  you  feared,  and  that  your  recovery 
will  be  permanent.  Do  not  fail  to  write  to  me  as  often  as  you 
can.  Your  letters  are  inexpressibly  delightful  to  me.  I  am 
sorry  to  find  by  your  last  that  my  father  had  not  been  very 
well.  By  your  description  of  his  ailment,  however,  it  seems 
obvious  that  it  was  but  a  temporary  one,  and  no  doubt  it  has 


316  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  XL 

long  since  passed  away.  I  have  not  yet  had  time  to  reply  to 
two  or  three  notes  which  I  received  from  him.  The  reason  is 
that  they  came  just  as  I  was  obliged  to  pack  up  everything, 
and  since  that  time  I  have  been  so  much  on  the  road  that  my 
papers  have  been  buried  out  of  sight.  I  remember,  however, 
that  he  enclosed  the  proof  sheets  of  an  extract  from  Mr. 
AUibone's  Biographical  Dictionary  in  which  honourable  men- 
tion was  made  of  my  labours.  Perhaps  he  will  be  willing,  as 
he  has  been  in  correspondence  with  that  gentleman,  to  state  to 
him  that  I  feel  very  much  honoured  and  flattered  by  the  very 
obliging  manner  in  which  he  has  spoken  of  my  work,  and  that 
I  wish  every  success  to  the  dijBficult  and  very  important  enter- 
prise in  which  he  is  engaged.  That  it  deserves  to  succeed 
cannot  be  doubted,  to  judge  from  the  strong  language  of 
encomium  used  concerning  it  by  the  eminent  gentlemen 
whose  letters  on  the  subject  have  been  published.  As  I  have 
not  myself  yet  seen  the  work,  I  am  of  course  not  able  to  express 
an  opinion  of  my  own. 

I  feel  also  very  grateful  for  the  warm  and  hearty  com- 
mendations bestowed  upon  me  in  the  letters  of  Dr.  Lieber, 
Mr.  Everett,  Mr.  Prescott,  Hillard,  Sumner,  and  others. 
Nothing  can  be  more  encouraging  to  a  writer  engaged  in  the 
arduous  pursuits  of  literature,  in  which  he  is  obliged  to 
spend  not  only  time  and  strength  but  also  no  inconsiderable 
amount  of  money,  than  to  find  his  labours  smiled  upon  and 
sympathised  with  by  the  most  eminent  minds  of  his  country, 
and  I  shall  always  feel  proud  of  such  approbation.  I  expect 
to  be  as  hard  at  work  as  I  have  been  ever  since  I  left  home  for 
a  good  Avhile  to  come.  I  do  not  know  when  I  shall  have  a 
couple  of  volumes  ready,  for  I  have  gone  in  very  deep  and 
have  been  striking  out  wide.  I  left  Holland  at  the  latter  end 
of  August,  and,  after  stopping  a  couple  of  very  agreeable  days 
at  Frankfort  with  Ane  of  the  most  intimate  friends  I  have  in 
the  world,  Mr.  de  BiSfmarck,  now  Prussian  Ambassador  at  the 
Diet,  and  formerly  a  companion  of  my  youth,  I  came  to  Vevay, 
whence,  after  reposing  a  fortnight,  we  took  the  rail  to  Lyons 
and  Marseilles,  and  thence  the  steamboat  to  Civita  Vecchia. 
Our  voyage  of  two  nights\  and  a  day  was  very  prosperous,  the 


1858.]  RESIDENCE  IN  ROME.  317 

sea  calm,  and  the  skies  bright  and  warm,  so  much  so  that  I,  in 
my  own  person,  passed  the  night  on  deck. 

I  had  hoped  to  have  found  an  opportunity  to  send  the 
London  letters,  which  you  think  will  amuse  you,  before  now. 
It  has,  however,  been  impossible  thus  far,  but  I  am  in  daily 
hope  of  finding  some  one  who  will  take  them  to  London  at 
least,  whence  there  will  be  always  a  chance  of  getting  them 
to  Boston.  I  must  once  more  observe  that  for  two  reasons 
they  ought  never  to  go  out  of  the  house.  First,  because  they 
are  deliberately  full  of  egotism  and  vanity.  I  mean  that  Mary 
and  Lily  wished  to  know  what  people  said  to  me  about  my 
book,  and  I  did  so  to  a  certain  extent,  although  I  have  a 
right  to  say  in  my  defence  that  a  great  many  things  were 
said  to  me  which  I  should  blush  to  repeat  even  in  a  letter  to 
them  or  to  you. 


To  his  MotJier. 


Rome, 
November  27th,  1858. 


My  dearest  Mother, — It  is  several  weeks  since  I  wrote, 
I  believe,  but  time  passes  so  rapidly  that  it  does  not  seem  so 
long  ago. 

We  are  now  in  very  comfortable  lodgings  in  the  Corso,  about 
opposite  the  church  of  San  Carlo,  if  you  happen  to  remember 
it.  We  are  on  the  third  floor,  but  as  the  rooms  are  all  sunny 
and  well  furnished  when  you  get  there,  and  plenty  of  them,  we 
do  not  much  mind  going  upstairs. 

I  have  a  very  good  room  for  my  study,  and  I  am  hard  at 
work.  I  began  my  first  volume  about  a  fortnight  ago  and 
hope  to  have  it  done  by  April.  My  task  is,  however,  rather  a 
difficult  one,  more  so  I  think  than  in  my  former  book.  I  have 
to  spread  myself  over  a  wide  surface,  for  after  the  death  of 
William  the  Silent,  the  history  of  the  provinces  becomes  for  a 
time  swallowed  in  the  general  current  of  European  history. 
I  do  not  mean  by  that  that  it  loses  its  importance.  On  the 
contrary  the  Netherlands  question  becomes  the  great  question 
of  Christendom.    Netherlands  history  is  for  a  time  the  only 


318  MOTLEY'S  LETTEES.  [Chap.  XI. 

European  history.  France,  England,  Spain,  and  Holland  being 
all  mingled  into  one  great  conflicting  mass,  it  is  difficult  to 
say  who  are  friends  and  who  are  enemies,  except  as  the  divid- 
ing line  is  drawn  according  to  religious  opinion.  I  am 
obliged,  therefore,  in  order  to  carry  out  my  intention,  to  go 
more  fully  into  English  and  French  contemporaneous  history 
than  I  did  in  the  other  book.  This  obliges  me  to  take  much 
greater  care,  because  I  come  very  often  upon  fields  which 
have  been  more  trodden  before  than  the  historical  soil  of 
the  Netherlands.  I  have,  however,  made  very  extensive 
collections  of  MSS.  in  England,  Holland  and  France,  and 
whatever  may  be  the  success  of  the  merits  of  the  volumes 
when  done,  I  am  sure  I  shall  have  plenty  of  solid  work  in 
them,  and  from  original  and  substantial  materials. 

You  may  imagine  that  it  is  not  a  very  money-making 
concern,  but  history  writing  must  be  pursued  honestly  as  a 
science,  if  it  is  to  be  permanently  valuable,  and  not  as  a 
trade.  I  have  not  yet  succeeded  in  getting  a  title  for  my 
book.  It  is  in  reality  a  continuation  of  the  other  on  a  little 
different  plan,  but  I  do  not  mean  to  call  it  so,  but  bring  it 
out  as  an  independent  work.  All  history  is  of  course  but  a 
fragment.  You  may  write  the  history  of  two  centuries,  and 
yet  you  will  give  but  a  slice  of  the  great  lump  of  human 
history,  and  I  wish  each  of  my  histories  to  stand  on  their  own 
legs.  I  suppose  I  shall  eventually  think  of  some  brief  title. 
That  is  the  only  part  of  the  book  of  which  I  hope  to  take  a 
mercantile  view.  A  telling  and  selling  title  is  always 
desirable  to  attract  readers  and  buyers.  The  great  cause  of 
regret  that  I  have,  however,  admits  of  no  remedy.  There  is 
no  great  hero.  It  is  difficult  to  scare  up  another  William  of 
Orange,  and  whatever  success  or  virtue  my  other  book  may 
have  had,  is  owing  to  my  having  discovered  one  of  the  great 
men  of  the  world's  history,  who  was,  I  think,  not  generally 
known  or  appreciated.  I  have  several  lesser  lights  in  the 
course  of  my  new  volumes,  and  shall  make  what  I  can  of  them 
in  succession,  but  I  feel  the  difference  between  them  and  that 
radiant  character. 

I  have  been  talking  of  myself,  my  dearest  mother,  or  rather 


1859.]  MR.  STORY.  319 

of  what  I  am  about,  because  I  know  that  it  will  interest  you. 
I  get  up  at  daylight  every  morning  and  begin  to  work.  This 
sounds  very  fine,  but  you  know  it  is  not  daylight  at  this 
season  before  seven.  Little  Mary  and  I  and  Susie  have  a  cup 
of  coffee  at  that  hour  together,  the  two  other  females  not  rising 
so  early.  The  French  governess  comes  from  nine  to  eleven 
for  the  two  children,  and  at  11 .30  we  breakfast  a  la  fourcliette, 
and  dine  at  six.  I  thus  get  every  day  eight  or  nine  hours  of 
work.  The  children  are  very  well,  and  the  climate  agrees 
with  them.  The  Storys  we  see  frequently,  and  like  them 
both  very  much.  She  is  a  bright,  sweet-tempered,  intelligent 
person,  and  he  is  decidedly  a  man  of  genius.  His  sculpture 
is  of  a  very  high  order  of  merit.  He  has  just  completed  an 
exquisite  statue  of  Hero  holding  a  torch,  as  if  looking  for 
Leander,  which  has  as  much  expression  as  has  often  been  put 
into  marble.  I  wish  I  were  rich  enough  to  buy  it,  not  because 
he  is  in  the  condition  of  a  poor  artist,  having  money  enough 
of  his  own.  His  statue  of  his  father  is  admirable.  He  has 
also  just  finished  a  Cleopatra,  which  is  highly  original  in 
attitude  and  design. 

The  children  are  very  fond  of  E ,  who  is  about  Mary's 

age,  and  they  have  a  dancing  class  together  twice  a  week, 
which  is  a  good  deal  of  amusement  for  them.  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Charles  Perkins,  Mrs.  Bruen,  and  Miss  Bruen,  are  also  here, 
and  I  believe  Edward  Perkins  and  his  wife.  Mrs.  Cleveland 
and  Mrs.  Doane  are  come,  or  coming.  There  are  also  other 
scattering  of  Americans  here  and  there,  but  none  I  think 
whom  you  are  acquainted  with. 

I  am,  most  affectionately,  your  son, 

J.  L.  M. 


From  M,  Guizot. 


Paris, 
25  fdvrier  1859. 

Vous  avez  probablement  deja  vu  par  les  joumaux,  Mon- 
sieur, que  le  premier  volume  de  la  traduction  de  votre 
*Histoire  de  la  Fondation  de  la  Kepublique  des  Provinces- 


320  MOTLEY'S  LETTEKS.  [Chap.  XI. 

Unies'  vient  de  paraitre.  L'editeur,  M.  Michel-Levy,  a  du, 
d'apres  ma  reeommandation,  vous  en  envoyer  deux  ex- 
emplaires.  Je  vous  prie  de  me  faire  savoir  si  cet  ordre  a 
ete  execute.  J'aurai  mieux  aime  qu'on  publiat  les  deux 
volumes  ensemble ;  la  traduction  franpaise  en  aura  quatre  ; 
mais  la  publication,  deja  avanpee,  d'une  autre  traduction 
franpaise  en  Belgique  a  decide  M.  Michel-Levy  a  se  presser, 
Je  sais  que  cette  traduction  beige  a  ete  faite  sans  votre  aveu ; 
M.  Mohl  m'a  donne  connaissance  de  ce  que  vous  lui  avez 
ecrit  a  cet  egard.  Je  ne  doute  pas  que  votre  ouvrage 
n'obtienne,  en  France,  le  succes  bien  merite  qu'il  a  obtenu 
aux  Etats-Unis  et  en  Angleterre,  et  qu'il  n'aide  efficacement 
au  triomphe  de  cette  grande  cause  de  la  liberte  religieuse 
que  vous  avez  soutenu  avec  tant  de  sincerite,  de  savoir  et 
d'eloquence. 

Eecevez,    Monsieur,   I'assurance    de   tous   mes    sentiments 
d'estime  et  de  consideration  tres  distinguee. 

GuizoT. 


To  Ids  Mother. 


Eome, 
March  26th,  1859. 

My  dearest  Mother, — We  go  on  here  in  a  very  jog-trot 
fashion.  I  work  pretty  hard,  but  the  ditch  grows  larger  with 
every  successive  dig.  I  have  nearly  finished  a  volume,  but  I 
am  not  very  well  satisfied  with  it.  You  need  not  be  anxious 
about  my  head-aches  ;  I  have  them  from  time  to  time,  but  they 
are  by  no  means  so  furious  or  so  frequent  as  they  used  to  be. 

The  children  and  Mary  are  all  very  well.  Last  Tuesday  I 
had  the  honour  of  dining  with  the  Prince  of  Wales,  who  is 
passing  the  winter  here.  The  invitation  was  quite  unexpected 
by  me.  Colonel  Bruce  (who  is  his  governor,  and  a  very  agree- 
able person,  brother  of  Lord  Elgin)  called  on  me,  and  said  his 
Eoyal  Highness  was  desirous  of  making  my  acquaintance. 
The  next  day  I  received  a  note  from  him,  saying  that  H.E.H. 
Baron  Eenfrew  would  be  happy  to  see  me  at  dinner,  etc. 
Baron  Eenfrew  i^  the  Prince's  travelling  name.     The  party 


1838.]  THE  PRINCE  OP  WALES.  821 

was  very  small ;  there  was  Colonel  and  Mrs.  Bruce,  the  parson, 
the  doctor,  the  aide-de-camp,  the  diplomatic  representative 
here,  Mr.  Russell,  Mr.  Gibson  the  sculptor,  Mr.  Hay,  an 
excellent  old  gentleman  here,  formerly  an  Under-Secretary  of 
State,  and  myself. 

The  Prince  is  about  eighteen.  His  profile  is  extremely  like 
that  of  the  Queen.  The  complexion  is  pure,  fresh,  and  healthy, 
like  that  of  most  English  boys ;  his  hair  is  light  brown,  cut 
short,  not  curly.  His  eyes  are  bluish-grey,  rather  large,  and 
very  frank  in  their  expression;  his  smile  very  ready  and 
genuine ;  his  manners  are  extremely  good.  I  have  not  had 
much  to  do  with  royal  personages,  but  of  those  I  have  known, 
I  know  none  whose  address  is  more  winning,  and  with  whom 
one  feels  more  at  one's  ease.  He  has  been  well  educated,  and 
I  should  think  had  a  good  mind  ;  but  of  course  it  is  impossible 
to  measure  his  intellect  after  so  brief  an  acquaintance.  I 
talked  to  him  befc^e  dinner.  At  dinner  he  sat  on  one  side  of 
Mrs.  Bruce,  and  I  on  the  other,  and  we  talked  upon  the 
common  topics,  the  table  not  being  too  large  for  general  conver- 
sation. After  dinner  he  asked  me  to  take  the  chair  next  him, 
and  we  conversed  for  half  an  hour  together.  He  talked  about 
Oerman  literature,  Goethe,  and  Schiller,  objects  of  art  in 
Rome.  Altogether  the  dinner  was  a  very  pleasant  one,  and  it 
is  very  agreeable  to  me  to  have  made  the  acquaintance  of  the 
future  Sovereign  of  the  magnificent  British  Empire  in  such  a 
simple  and  unceremonious  manner.  I  have  left  myself  no 
room,  my  dearest  mother,  except  to  say  God  bless  you.     Give 

my  love  to  the  governor,  A ,  and  all  the  rest  of  the  family, 

small  and  great,  and  with  the  united  and  kindest  affection  of 
us  all,  I  am, 

Most  affectionately,  your  son, 

J.  L.  M. 


VOL.  I. 


322  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  XI. 

To  his  Mother. 

Paris, 
June  5th,  1859. 

My  deaeest  Mother, — We  left  Eome  Wednesday  morningv 
June  1st,  and  reached  Paris  Friday  afternoon  at  5  p.m. 
of  June  3rd.  This  is  the  most  rapid  travelling  we  were 
ever  guilty  of.  The  railroad  took  us  in  two  hours  to  Civita 
Vecchia ;  then  the  steamer  landed  us  in  Marseilles  in  about 
thirty  hours  more.  Then  the  express  train,  which  started  at 
10'30  P.M.  of  Thursday  evening,  brought  us  to  Paris  in  eighteen 
additional  hours.  The  weather  was  very  fine,  so  that  the  journey, 
though  disagreeable,  was  soon  accomplished.  It  seems  almost 
incredible  that  we  Avere  breakfasting  in  our  Roman  lodgings, 
on  Wednesday,  and  that  I  am  now  writing  to  you  on  Sunday 
morning  from  an  apartment  in  which  we  have  already  installed 
ourselves  at  Paris. 

We  were  driven  out  of  Italy  by  the  war!  My  plans  have 
been  quite  upset  by  these  unforeseen  circumstances.  It  had 
been  my  intention  to  pass  most  of  the  summer  in  Venice, 
going  thither  about  the  middle  of  June,  and  staying  there  till 
September,  after  which  we  should  have  probably  wintered  in 
Florence.  There  is  much  very  important  and  interesting- 
matter  in  Venice  which  I  had  reckoned  upon,  not  only  for 
the  Avork  which  at  present  occupies  me,  but  for  future  historical 
labours ;  and  as  Edward  Perkins  and  Lillie  Cleveland,  whom 
our  Lily  is  very  fond  of,  thought  of  passing  the  summer 
there  also,  the  project  Avas  a  very  satisfactory  one.  I  could 
have  worked  hard  all  day,  and  we  could  have  swum  about  by 
moonlight  in  gondolas  in  the  evenings.     But — 

"  The^  best  laid  schemes  o'  mice  and  men  gang  oft  a-gley," 

and  so  there  was  no  staying  in  Italy.  We  have  come  for  the 
present  to  Paris\-a  place  which  we  one  and  all  detest.  Eome 
was  tranquil  enough,  but  th^climate  after  the  middle  of  June 
has  a  bad  reputation,  and,  indeed,  there  were  three  cases  of 
fever,  one,  and  perhaps  two,  fatal  ones  in  the  ajjartment 
underneath  ours  in  the  same  house.     I  believe,  however,  that 


1859.]  THE  WAR  IN  ITALY.  323 

it  was  typhus  and  not  Roman  fever,  and  contracted  in  another 
phice.  Wo  have  been  all,  thank  God,  very  well,  and  the 
weather  in  Rome  was  exquisitely  beautiful  up  to  the  moment 
of  our  departure,  the  very  perfection  of  spring — that  season 
whieh  exists  only  in  imagination  with  us.  I  can  hardly  con- 
ceive of  two  things  more  diametrically  opposed  to  each  other 
in  the  way  of  atmosphere  than  the  April  and  May  of  Rome 
and  Boston. 

It  is  not  very  easy  for  mo  to  give  you  any  news  about  the 
war  in  Italy.  The  events,  as  they  occur,  are  of  course  imme- 
diately given  in  the  American  newspapers.  The  telegraph 
adding,  however,  its  inevitable  blunders  to  the  indispensable 
lies  of  the  bulletin,  the  confusion  is  worse  confounded  than 
ever.  Thus  there  is  no  doubt  that  in  all  the  engagements 
that  have  taken  place  hitherto,  in  which  much  life  has  been 
squandered  without  any  result,  the  advantage  has  been 
uniformly  with  the  French  and  Sardiniflns.  Yet  in  the  official 
accounts,  for  example,  of  the  action  of  Montebello  the  state- 
ment of  the  allies  is  that  there  were  4000  French  and  400 
Sardinians  engaged  with  18,000  Austrians.  The  Austrian 
commander-in-chief,  on  the  contrary,  puts  the  number  of 
French  and  Sardinians  at  40,000. 

With  regard  to  the  war  itself,  my  sympathies  are  warmly  with 
Sardinia.  Nothing  can  be  more  chivalrous,  manly,  vigorous, 
progressive,  and  enlightened,  than  the  King  of  Sardinia,  his 
Prime  Minister,  and  his  whole  nation.  It  seems  to  me  that 
no  man  deserves  to  mention  the  word  liberty,  who  does  not 
feel  the  warmest  admiration  and  sympathy  with  so  noble  a 
cause.  But  of  course  it  is  extremely  difficult  to  place  con- 
fidence in  the  intentions  of  the  French  Emperor — for  me  it  is 
impossible,  and  while  I  do  not  wonder  that  Sardinia  should 
have  made  the  alliance,  yet  it  is  not  easy  to  be  very  hopeful  as 
to  the  result.  It  is  true  that  the  Emperor  has  hedged  himself 
about  with  protestations  and  self-denying  ordinances  of  all 
kinds,  but  those  who  remembei^^is  career  for  the  last  ten 
years,  can  hardly  put  much  faith  in  such  exuberance  of  virtue 
on  his  part,  and  I  do  not  believe  there  will  be  very  much 
gained  for  liberty  and  human  progress  if  Prince  Napoleon  is 

Y  2 


324  MOTLEY'S  LETTEES.  [Chap.  XL 

made  into  a  King  of  Etruria,  and  a  Murat  into  King  of  Naples, 
and  a  Bonaparte  (I  forget  his  name)  made  into  a  pope.  Yet 
the  Italian  liberals  are  very  sanguine.  There  are  no  Italians, 
high  or  low,  who  do  not  sympathise  with  the  movement  (except 
the  reigning  individuals  of  course),  and  who  do  not  abhor 
Austria.  The  position  of  Prussia  with  a  king  who  has  hope- 
lessly lost  his  reason,  and  yet  may  live  many  years,  complicates 
matters  very  much.  The  German  politicians  are  rapidly 
tending  to  an  almost  unanimous  conviction  that  the  interests 
of  Germany  require  them  all  to  support  Austria,  and  they  pro- 
bably will  do  so,  a  result  which  will  make  the  war  universal. 
They  are  impelled  to  this  by  their  hereditary  and  natural 
hatred  of  France,  and  by  the  indispensable  necessity  of  keeping 
a  united  Germany  as  a  bulwark  against  Russia. 

Yet  if  there  were  a  young,  vigorous,  intellectual  sovereign  in 
Prussia  at  this  moment,  a  man  like  Frederic  the  Great,  or 
Peter  the  Great,  he  would  see  that  the  time  had  arrived  for 
Prussia  to  secure  at  last  the  object  of  its  ambition,  the  imperial 
crown  of  Germany.  If  the  house  of  Brandenburg,  which  governs 
the  powerful,  wholly  German,  and  progressive  Prussia,  could 
become  emperors  of  Germany,  to  the  utter  annihilation  of  a 
fictitious,  artificial  sham,  which  was  got  up  at  the  Congress  of 
Vienna  forty  years  ago,  and  baptized  the  Empire  of  Austria,  in 
which  there  are  only  about  seven  millions  of  Germans,  shaken 
up  pell-mell  in  a  great  bag  with  some  thirty  millions  oi 
Slavonians,  Magyars,  Italians,  Croats,  and  Greeks,  and  the 
Lord  knows  what  a  hodge-podge,  which  has  never  had  any 
vitality  except  in  defiance  of  all  laws,  divine  or  human — if 
such  a  result  could  take  place,  then  there  might  be  a  real 
Germany,  and  a  handsome  solution  to  the  present  European 
question. 

You  ask  me  whether  I  propose  publishing  one  volume  at  a 
time  of  my  book,  and  that  is  exactly  what  I  do  not  know 
myself.  I  have  written  a  volume  since  November  last — in 
Rome.  But  it  will  take  me  some  two  or  three  months  to  get 
it  into  publishing  shape,  and  where  I  shall  find  a  resting-place 
I  know  not.  Two  days  in  Paris  have  convinced  me  that  the 
expense  of  this  town  is  so  frightful,  as  to  make  it  altogether 


1858.]  PARIS.  :j25 

beyond  my  possibilities,  and  we  are  now  thinking  a  little  of 
England  for  a  time. 

My  facilities  for  work  are  greater  there  than  anywhere, 
as  I  have  always  a  copyist  or  two  engaged  at  work.  But  we 
have  not  yet  decided  on  anything,  but  have  meantime  taken  a 
lodging  for  a  month,  during  which  we  shall  make  up  our 
minds. 

I  do  not  know  that  I  can  say  anything  more  to  entertain 
you,  my  dear  mother.  The  influences  of  Paris  are  very 
depressing  to  me.  I  dislike  the  place  more  and  more  every 
time  I  come  to  it.  I  like  Italy,  but  there  are  many  drawbacks 
to  a  residence  there  for  a  literary  man.  But  the  climate  is 
most  delightful,  and  spoils  you  for  other  atmospheres.  I 
found  it  favourable  to  labour,  and  I  do  not  think  I  ever  got 
through  a  greater  amount  of  work  in  the  same  time  than  I  did 
in  Eome.  My  habits  in  one  respect  are  changed.  I  have 
become  a  comparatively  early  riser.  I  got  up  usually  in  the 
winter  at  seven,  and  latterly  at  six.  I  get  more  time  I  find  by 
this  system.    We  are  all  well. 

Most  affectionately  your  son, 

J.  L.  M. 


To  his  Mother. 

Mount  Felix,  Walton-on-Thames, 
August  IQlh,  1859. 

My  dearest  Mother, — Your  letter  of  18th  July  was 
welcomed  most  warmly.  I  am  delighted  to  find  you  feeling 
yourself  so  well,  and  I  was  still  more  gratified  to  be  informed 
a  few  days  ago  by  Mr.  Lothrop  that  he  had  seen  you  just 
before  he  left  home,  and  that  he  had  not  seen  you  looking  so 
well  for  years,  and  that  you  seemed  to  him  quite  recovered. 
I  cannot  help  regretting  a  little  that  you  did  not  carry  out 
your  plan  of  making  a  visit  to  Nahant,  for  it  seems  to  me  that 
a  tonic  atmosphere  like  that  of  Nahant  would  give  you 
courage  and  strength  to  grapple  with  your  enemy,  who  seems 
already  a  retreating  one.  As  to  age,  I  wish  you  could  see 
some  of  the    people    in    London    society.     There    is    Lord 


326  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  XL 

Palmerston,  seventy-five  years  exactly,  Prime  Minister  in 
England  for  the  second  time,  full  of  life,  bustle,  and  business 
in  the  House  of  Commons  every  night  till  after  midnight,  and 
making  a  speech  every  night,  receiving  large  companies  at 
dinner,  and  in  the  evening  every  Saturday  for  the  whole 
season,  and  having  no  more  idea  of  considering  himself  old 
than  Lady  Palmerston,  who  is,  I  believe,  of  exactly  the  same 
age,  and  in  her  way  quite  as  alive  and  youthful  in  manner  and 
appearance,  and  quite  as  active,  influential,  and  reigning,  and 
charming  a  personage  in  the  great  London  world  as  she  ever 
was.  Then  there  is  Lord  Lyndhurst,  who  celebrated  his  eighty- 
seventh  birthday  last  month,  whose  intellect  is  as  vivid,  whose 
voice  as  melodious,  and  whose  interest  in  the  great  questions 
agitating  the  world  as  comprehensive  and  unflagging,  as  if  he 
had  fifty  years  less  upon  his  back  than  he  has. 

He  made  an  admirable  speech  on  foreign  politics  the  other 
night,  and  he  told  me  a  few  days  ago  that  he  meant  to  make  a 
speech  on  a  subject  which  he  has  very  much  at  heart — the 
natural  necessity  of  a  strong  and  cordial  alliance  between  the 
two  great  English  commonwealths  on  the  two  sides  of  the, 
Atlantic.  England  and  America  together,  he  says,  may  defy 
the  world,  and  England  can  have  no  real  friend  among  the 
despotic  governments  of  Europe.  The  season  was  too  late,  he 
thought,  for  him  to  make  a  speech  on  the  subject  this  year, 
but  he  meant  to  do  it  next  session.  So  you  see  that  eighty- 
seven  years  do  not  prevent  him  from  laying  out  work  for 
liimself  in  the  future.  He  is  very  fond  of  his  two  nieces,  Mrs. 
Amory  and  her  daughter,  and  always  speaks  of  them,  as  you 
may  suppose,  with  the  warmest  interest  and  affection.  I  do  not 
say  anything  of  our  few  weeks  in  London.  You  have  been 
recently  reading  my  letters  of  last  year,  in  which  the  whole 
ground  was  gone  over,  and,  in  addition,  Lily  has  written  you 
(I  hope  you  have  received  them,  and  were  not  alarmed  at  the 
postage)  a  detailed  account  of  our  proceedings  in  the  form  of  a 
journal,  which  she  kept  mainly  because  she  thought  it  would 
amiise  and  interest  you.   , 

I  did  not  care  a  great  deal  about  going  through  a  second 
London  season.     But  as  we  were  obliged  to  leave  Italy  (where 


1858.1  KUROPEAN  POLITICS.  327 

I  had  intended  passing  a  second  winter,  having  sent  all  my 
books  and  papers  there),  there  seemed  no  other  course  open, 
particularly  as  I  had  much  literary  business  in  England.  I 
thought  too  that,  as  Lily  was  just  grown  up,  and  old  enough 
to  go  into  society,  and  likely  to  please  and  be  pleased,  it  was 
a  kind  of  duty  to  let  her  have  the  advantage  which  my 
position  as  a  man  of  letters  gives  her,  of  seeing  for  once  the 
most  brilliant  and  cultivated  society  in  the  world,  viz.,  the 
highest  circles  of  London  in  the  full  of  the  season.  I  must 
say,  without  meaning  to  take  any  credit  to  myself,  except  as 
belonging  to  a  peculiar  class,  that  I  cannot  help  forming  a 
favourable  idea  of  English  ci^^lisation  when  I  see  the  position 
accorded  in  this  country  to  those  wht)  cultivate  art,  science, 
and  literature,  as  if  those  things  were  worth  something,  and 
were  entitled  to  some  consideration,  as  well  as  high  birth, 
official  rank,  and  wealth,  which  on  the  Continent  are  the  only 
passports. 

I  do  not  like  to  say  much  about  European  politics.  A 
black  cloud  seems  to  envelop  the  Continent.  The  nations 
of  the  earth,  in  their  cowardice  or  their  inertness,  have 
allowed  the  most  dangerous  malefactor  who  ever  usurped 
supreme  power  to  paralyse  and  stultify  them  all,  and  frighten 
them  all  out  of  their  wits.  The  confidence  reposed  by  the 
whole  Italian  people  at  the  beginning  of  this  year  in  the 
intentions  of  Louis  Napoleon,  was  as  incredible  as  it  was 
pathetic,  and  would  have  converted  into  a  hero  any  man 
standing  in  his  position  who  had  been  possessed  of  one  spark 
of  virtue  or  generosity.  There  is  no  doubt  of  two  things — 
that  he  originated  the  Italian  revolt,  and  that  he  has,  against 
the  unanimous  wishes  of  the  Italians,  left  them  in  the  lurch, 
having  pledged  himself  to  Austria  to  restore  the  archdukes. 
The  firm,  moderate,  consistent,  unanimous,  dignified  and  cou- 
rageous conduct  of  the  Italians  in  this  tremendous  crisis  will 
always  remain  one  of  the  grand  lessons  of  history.  If  they  are 
tlestined  to  be  crushed  into  submission,  after  this  calm  and 
deliberate  expression  of  their  wishes,  at  any  rate  a  significant 
chapter  in  the  history  of  freedom  and  tyranny  will  have  been 
recorded,  and  it  will  be  something  that  the  mask  will  at  last 


328  MOTLEY'S  LETTEKe.  [Chap.  XI. 

be  torn  from  the  face  of  the  French  Emperor.  The  Tuscan 
Assembly  has  just  voted  unanimously  that  the  Hapsburg- 
Lorraine  dynasty  shall  never  be  restored.  They  will  doubt- 
less vote  as  unanimously  to  annex  themselves  to  Sardinia. 

Our  plans  are  not  yet  fixed,  although  they  will  be  before 
the  end  of  the  week.  A  furnished  house  is  offered  me  at  the 
Hague  for  a  year,  which  I  shall  either  take,  or  take  lodgings 
in  the  country  in  England.  I  have  lost  three  months,  and 
must  get  to  work  again,  if  my  two  volumes  are  to  be  ready  by 
next  fall. 

We  are  all  well,  staying  at  this  delightful  country  house 
of  the  Sturgis's,  where  we  are  always  treated  with  such 
hospitality  that  it  seemed  as  if  the  house  belonged  to  us. 
Mrs.  John  Sturgis  had  a  little  girl  born  a  week  ago,  and  both 

mother  and  child  are   going  on  very  well.     Little   H , 

the  youngest  child  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Kussell  Sturgis,  is  a  most 
charming  little  boy.  Give  my  love  to  the  governor  and  all 
the  family. 

Always  most  affectionately  your  son, 

J.  L.  M. 


(    329    ) 


CHAPTER  XII. 

RESIDENCE   IN   ENGLAND — PUBLICATION   OP 
*THE  UNITED  NETHERLANDS.' 

Oatlands  Park — DifQculties  of  his  work — London  in  November— Wm.  Stirling — 
East  Sheen — Professor  Owen — Mr.  and  Mrs.  Grote — John  Murray  and  the 
'  History  of  the  United  Netherlands ' — Letter  from  M.  Guizot  proposing 
Mr.  Motley  as  corresponding  member  of  the  French  Academy — Letter  to  Dr. 
O.  W.  Holmes  about  the '  Autocrat ' — International  copyright — Mr.  Motley's 
affection  for  England — American  and  European  politics — Letter  from  Mr.  N. 
Hawthorne — *The  Marble  Faun' — Letter  from  Dr.  O.  W.  Holmes — Poli- 
tical and  literary  affairs  in  the  States — Praise  of  the  '  Dutch  Kepublic ' — 
The  Eoyal  Academy  dinner — D.C.L.  at  Oxford — Oxford  Commemoration — 
Letter  from  Lady  Dufferin  to  Mrs.  Norton  —  Lady  Dufferin  and  her  son 
— Approaching  completion  of  the  '  United  Netherlands ' — Lord  de  Grey — 
Studley  Royal  —  Fountains  Abbey — Sidney  Herbert — Visits  in  Scotland 
— Keir — Glen  Quoich  —  Mr.  and  Mrs.  EUice — Inveraray  —  The  Duke  of 
Argyll  —  Taymouth  —  Lord  Breadalbanc  —  The  Prince  of  Wales'  visit  to 
America — Election  of  Abraham  Lincoln — Publication  of  the  '  United  Nether- 
lands ' — Letters  of  acknowledgment  from  M.  St.  Hilaire  and  from  M.  Guizot. 

To  his  Mother. 

Oatlands  Park  Hotel,  "Walton-on- Thames, 
November  2ith,  1859. 

My  dearest  Mother, — My  life  is  now  very  much  within 
the  four  walls  of  my  study.  I  am  hard  at  work,  but,  alas, 
my  work  grows  and  expands  around  me  every  day.  I  am 
like  the  conjuror's  apprentice  in  the  German  ballad,  who 
raised  a  whole  crowd  of  spectres  and  demons  by  stealing  his 
master's  wand,  and  then  did  not  know  how  to  exorcise  them 
and  get  rid  of  them.  The  apparitions  of  the  sixteenth 
century  rise  upon  me,  phantom  after  phantom,  each  more 
intrusive  and  threatening  and  appalling  than  the  other, 
and  I  feel  that  I  have  got  myself  into  a  mob  of  goblins,  who 
are  likely  to  be  too  much  for  me.  The  other  day  I  read  of 
an  eminent  photographic  artist  to  whom  a  ghost  appeared. 


330  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  XII. 

Instead  of  being  frightened,  the  photographer  was  enchanted. 
"  Stop  a  bit,  my  dear  spectre,"  said  he,  while  he  made  a 
hurried  search  for  the  implements  of  his  trade,  thinking  that 
the  chance  of  getting  a  daguerrotype  of  a  bond  fide  ghost  was 
a  speculation  not  to  be  neglected.  Upon  which  the  ghost 
vanished,  much  disgusted  at  being  converted  into  an  article  of 
merchandise.  Well,  I  am  afraid  my  ghosts  will  vanish  while 
I  am  trying  to  photograph  them,  and  that  always  keeps  me  in 
a  state  of  impatience  and  excitement.  For  two  or  three  years, 
during  which  I  have  written  almost  nothing,  I  have  been  col- 
lecting a  vast  quantity  of  materials  in  the  shape  of  unpublished 
letters,  and  other  documents,  of  eminent  historical  characters, 
and  I  have  been  reading  them  so  much  and  so  constantly 
that  the  individuals  seem  to  clothe  themselves  with  a  ghastly 
kind  of  life,  and  seem  to  haunt  me. 

The  truth  is,  I  have  laid  out  too  much  work.  If  I  laboured 
away  like  a  galley  slave  at  the  oar,  eight  hours  a  day  for  the 
next  five  years,  I  should  hardly  fill  up  the  outlines  which  I 
have  chalked  out.  However,  I  hope  to  get  a  couple  of  volumes 
ready  in  the  course  of  the  next  year,  although  it  will  only  be 
in  the  sweat  of  my  brow. 

We  are  living  a  most  retired  life.  The  country  here  is  very 
rural,  cultivated,  and  pretty.  The  climate  is  moderate,  the 
early  winter  thus  far  being  rarely  frosty,  but  often  foggy. 
To-day,  for  example,  the  tall  trees,  within  a  hundred  yards  of 
my  window,  are  swallowed  up  in  a  white  gloom,  while  the  big 
oaks  and  beeches  closer  to  me  are,  like  Ossian's  heroes,  vague, 
misty,  and  gigantic.  I  do  not  object  to  fog,  always  excepting 
a  black  fog,  a  London  fog.  I  was  obliged  to  pass  the  day  in 
town  yesterday,  and  to  breathe  unmitigated  coal-smoke  for  six 
hours.  When  the  fog  settles  down  in  London,  the  smoke  from 
millions  of  chimneys  settles  down  with  it.  It  cannot  escape 
upwards,  and  so  etery  breathing  being  is  turned  for  the  time 
into  a  chimney,  t  was  a  chimney  all  day  yesterday,  and 
rejoice  that  I  was  n^t  born  in  that  station  in  life,  not  finding 
it  exhilarating.  London  is  not  attractive  in  November.  I 
had  something  to  do  in  the  libraries.  Just  before  leaving 
town  I  stumbled  against  Stirling  in  the  fog,  and  had  a  walk 


1859.]  ENGLAND  IN  NOVEMBEK.  331 

and  talk  with  him.  He  had  just  got  back  from  Spain.  He 
tells  me  that  ho  expects  to  publish  his  Life  of  Don  John  of 
Austria  in  a  few  months.  Do  you  know  his  books  ?  If  not,  I 
advise  you  to  road  them.  His  *  Cloister  Life  of  Charles  V.'  is 
a  charming  book.  So  are  his  Lives  of  the  Spanish  painters. 
The  Life  of  Don  John  will,  doubtless,  be  best  of  all.  He  is 
41  man  of  large  fortune  and  of  ancient  family,  a  Member  of 
Parliament,  and,  as  Dogberry  says,  "  with  two  go^vns,  and 
everything  handsome  about  him."  He  has  a  magnificent 
place  in  Scotland,  mentioned  in  some  of  Scott's  poems  as 
the  "  lordly  brow  of  ancient  Keir."  Last  year  he  invited 
mc  down  there,  but  I  left  England  as  soon  as  the  London 
season  was  over.  While  I  have  been  writing,  the  fog  has  been 
growing  whiter  and  whiter,  and  thicker  and  thicker.  My 
Ossianic  trees  have  withdrawn  themselves  deeper  and  deeper 
into  the  mist,  and  have  nearly  all  vanished.  Only  one  giant, 
whom  I  can  almost  touch  from  the  window,  is  dimly  visible,  a 
shrouded  and  vegetable  phantom.  I  am  delighted  to  find,  my 
dearest  mother,  that  you  give  such  good  accounts  of  your 
health.  I  always  believed  that  you  would  triumph  over  your 
disorders,  and  now  I  am  convinced  of  it.  Pray  accept  this 
letter  for  what  it  is  worth,  and  if  you  are  willing,  I  will  write 
oftener,  and  each  one  stupider  than  the  other.  Give  my  best 
love  to  my  father  and  all  the  family  great  and  small,  and 
believe  me  always 

Most  affectionately  your  son, 

J.  L.  M. 


To  his  Father. 

East  Horsley  Towers, 

December  2dth,  1859. 

My  dear  Father, — I  received  your  kind  letter  three  days 
ago,  and  I  thank  you  very  much  for  the  cheque  therein  con- 
tained. You  do  not  say  anything  as  to  my  dear  mother's 
health,  but  as  she  has  always  reported  very  well  of  herself,  and 
as  the  accounts  have  always  been  good,  I  trust  sincerely  that 


332  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  XII. 

she  is  as  well  as  she  has  lately  been,  and  that  many  years  of 
happy  life  are  in  store  for  her.  I  always  believed  that  the 
strength  of  her  constitution  would  enable  her  to  surmount  her 
difficulties,  and  now  I  feel  convinced  of  it. 

I  notice  what  you  say  about  the  map  for  the  siege  of 
Leyden.  I  could  send  a  plan  or  chart  cut  from  a  contempo- 
rary chronicle,  which  I  used  very  minutely  in  writing  my 
account,  and  perhaps  it  might  be  worth  while  to  have  it  copied 
and  inserted.  I  will  think  of  it,  and  let  you  know  very  soon. 
I  am  glad  to  hear  that  General  Pierce  expressed  himself  so 
agreeably  on  the  subject  of  the  '  Dutch  Eepublic'  We  met 
several  times  at  Eome,  and  he  seemed  a  very  kind-hearted  and 
excellent  man,  and  although  I  differ  from  him  in  politics  as 
far  as  it  is  perhaps  possible  for  two  persons  to  differ,  yet  I  was 
very  favourably  impressed  by  him.  I  was  especially  touched 
by  the  gentleness  and  care  which  he  had  for  his  wife,  who 
is  a  great  invalid,  and  also  for  the  warm  sympathy  which  he 
manifested  for  his  old  friend,  and  my  friend,  Hawthorne, 
during  the  alarming  illness  of  his  daughter. 

I  hear,  by  the  way,  that  Hawthorne  is  about  to  publish  a 
new  novel.  I  know  that  he  wrote  one  in  Eome,  and  I  hope  it 
will  be  as  beautiful  and  as  successful  as  his  other  works.  We 
liked  him  very  much.  He  is  the  most  bashful  man  I  believe 
that  ever  lived,  certainly  the  most  bashful  American,  mauvaise 
honfe  not  being  one  of  our  national  traits,  but  he  is  a  very 
sincere,  unsophisticated,  kind-hearted  person,  and  looks  the 
man  of  genius  he  undoubtedly  is. 

We  had  a  merry  Christmas  party  at  Mount  Felix.  Every- 
body enjoyed  themselves,  as  they  are  apt  to  do  at  that  most 
hospitable  mansion. 

This  place  is  in  Surrey,  about  ten  miles  from  our  own 
residence  at  Oatlands  Hotel.  The  only  guest  here  to-day  (we 
had  some  others  yesterday)  is  Euskin,  of  the  '  Seven  Lamps ' 
and  the '  Italian  Painters.'  He  is  very  agreeable  company,  very 
fond  of  talking,  but  not  dogmatic  as  in  his  books. 

Most  affectionately  yours, 

J.  L.  M. 


18C0.]  THE  GROTES.  333 

To  his  Mother. 

East  Sheen, 
February  13th,  1860. 

My  deaeest  Mother, — I  am  writing  to  you  from  the  house 
of  your  old  acquaintance  Mr.  and  ]\Irs.  Joshua  Bates.  Satur- 
day we  had  a  large  party  of  country  neighbours  to  dine,  but 
there  were  none  of  them  known  to  fame,  nor  any  of  them  at  all 
interesting,  except  one  lady,  who  sang  and  played  remarkably 
well,  and  charmed  us  all  at  the  piano  for  an  hour  or  two  after 
dinner.  Yesterday  we  had  no  one  at  dinner  but  a  Polish 
gentleman  whom  one  often  meets  in  London  society,  and  the 
celebrated  Professor  Owen.  This  is  the  great  lecturer  and 
writer  on  comparative  anatomy  and  on  fossil  remains,  to  hear 
whom  Lily  goes  up  to  town  every  Tuesday,  generally  passing 
the  day  with  her  friend.  Lady  Annabella  King,  at  her  grand- 
mother's, old  Lady  Byron.  She  was,  therefore,  very  glad  to 
make  his  personal  acquaintance.  To-day  we  are  to  have  more 
people  at  dinner,  the  Yan  der  Weyers  among  others.  Van 
der  Weyer  is  a  particularly  agreeable  person,  and  a  great 
favourite  with  everybody. 

Mr.  Bates  is  a  most  excellent  man,  kind-hearted,  benevolent, 
and  sensible.  He  is  in  very  good  health,  and  goes  to  Bishops- 
gate  Street  every  day  of  his  life,  which  I  should  not  care  to  do 
if  I  were  past  seventy,  and  had  a  million  pounds  sterling. 

The  last  house  where  we  were  visiting  a  week  ago  is  a  very 
dififerent  place,  belonging  to  very  different  persons — Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Grote.  I  do  not  know  whether  you  have  ever  read 
Grote's  *  History  of  Greece.'  But  it  is  one  of  the  great  works 
of  the  age,  is  fully  recognised  as  such,  and  will  last  as  long  as 
Gibbon's  *  Koman  Empire.'  I  feel  it  a  great  honour  to  have 
been  commended  and  taken  cordially  by  the  hand  by  such  a 
man.  He  had  been  reading  my  book,  and  showed  me  many 
passages  which  he  had  marked  and  commented  upon.  He  is 
very  kind-hearted,  and  with  most  genuine,  childlike  sim- 
plicity of  manner,  not  always  found  in  company  with  such 
exuberant  and  accurate  erudition  as  he  possesses.  Mrs.  Grote 
is  a  character,  very  firm,  decided,  clever,  accomplished,  strong- 


334  MOTLEY'S  LETTEKS.  [Chap.  XII. 

minded,  tall,  and  robust,  whom  Sydney  Smith,  called  the  most 
gentleman-like  of  women.  She  is  very  droll  in  her  dress, 
despising  crinoline  and  flounces,  and  attiring  herself,  when 
going  out  for  a  walk,  in  a  shawl  thrown  over  her  shoulders  and 
tied  round  her  waist,  with  a  poplin  gown  reaching  to  the  tops 
of  her  boots,  a  tall  brown  man's  hat,  with  a  feather  in  it,  and  a 
stout  walking-stick.  She  is  the  best  company  in  the  world, 
full  of  originality  and  humour,  has  seen  and  known  every 
remarkable  person  in  England  and  France,  and  is  full  ot 
anecdotes  about  everybody  and  everything.  One  of  the  best 
things  she  ever  said  was  about  Sydney  Smith's  daughter  (who 
was  married  to  Dr.  Holland),  in  consequence  of  her  husband 
being  baroneted.  Somebody  hearing  Lady  Holland  spoken 
of,  asked  if  Lord  Holland's  wife  was  referred,  to.  "  No,"  said 
Mrs.  Grote,  "  this  is  New  Holland,  and  the  capital  is  Sydney.'* 
I  am  going  to  town  to-morrow  to  see  John  Murray,  the  pub- 
lisher, about  my  new  volumes.  I  do  not  know  whether  you 
remember  that  when  I  was  first  about  to  publish  the  '  Dutch 
Republic,'  I  offered  the  MS.  to  Murray,  to  whom  I  had  a  note  of 
introduction.  After  retaining  the  work  a  fortnight,  he  declined  it 
very  civilly  but  decidedly.  In  consequence,  as  you  remember, 
I  had  it  printed  and  published  by  Chapman,  and  the  governor 
was  kind  enough  to  pay  the  expenses.  Well,  the  other  day  I 
received  a  note  from  Murray,  expressing  in  very  strong  lan- 
guage his  self-reproaches  for  his  shortsightedness  for  having 
lost  his  chance  of  being  my  publisher,  and  his  desire,  if  pos- 
sible, to  repair  his  mistake  if  I  was  not  bound  to  any  one 
else.  ...  So  I  hope  to  make  an  arrangement  with  Murray, 
who  is  by  far  the  best  publisher  in  England. 

Most  affectionately  your  son, 

J.  L.  M. 


From  M.  Guizot. 

Paris, 
16  mars  1860. 

J'ai  eu  un  grand  plaisir  a  vous  proposer  a  I'Academie  des 
Sciences  morales  et  poli^iques,  comme  successeur  de  M.  Pres- 
cott  en  qualite  de  corresp^pndant,  et  je  me  suis  felicite  de  cette 

\ 
\ 
\ 


I860.]       THE  'AUTOCRAT  OP  THE  BREAKFAST  TABLE.'        335 

occasion  d'exposer  vos  litres  a  cet  honneur.  J'espere  que 
vous  continuerez  votre  belle  *  Histoire  de  la  Fondation  de  la 
Ropublique  des  Provinces-Unies,'  en  la  conduisant  jusqu'au 
moment  ou  I'Espagne  elle-meme  a  ^te  forcee  de  reconnaitro 
que  la  llopublique  ctait  fondue,  Le  succes  de  votre  premier 
ouvrage  no  vous  permet  pas  de  le  laisser  incomplet,  et  je  serai 
charmu  d'apprendro  que  vous  vous  occupez  de  la  completer. 

J'ai  bien  regrette  de  ne  pas  me  trouver  a  Paris  pendant  le 
temps  que  vous  y  avez  passe. 

Recevez,  je  vous  prie,  Monsieur,  I'assurance  de  ma  con- 
sideration la  plus  distinguee. 

GUIZOT. 


To  Dr.  0.  W.  Holmes. 


Oatlands  Park  Hotel,  Walton-on-Thames, 
March  29th,  1860. 

]My  DEAR  Wendell, — I  am  not  going  to  make  one  word  of 
apology  for  my  long  silence.  If  you  will  forgive  it  and  write 
me  again  at  once,  I  promise  faithfully  that  I  will  write  to  you 
as  often  as  once  a  quarter  if  you  will  do  the  same.  I  cannot 
do  without  letters  from  you,  and  although  I  have  a  special  dis- 
like to  writing  them  myself,  I  am  willing  to  bore  you  for  the 
sake  of  the  reward.  I  really  believe  that  you  are  the  only  one 
of  my  friends  to  whom  I  have  not  expressed  in  rapturous  terms 
the  delight  with  which  I  have  read  and  re-read  your  'Autocrat.' 
We  were  quite  out  of  the  way  of  getting  the  'Atlantic '  in  our 
foreign  residences — in  Nice,  Switzerland,  and  Rome.  But  one 
day  after  it  had  been  collected  into  a  volume  some  traveller 
lent  it  to  us,  and  we  carefully  forgot  to  return  it — a  petty 
larceny  combined  with  breach  of  trust  which  I  have  never 
regretted,  for  no  one  could  appreciate  it  more  highly  than  I,  in 
the  first  place,  and  then  all  my  family.  It  is  really  even  better 
than  I  expected  it  to  be,  and  that  is  saying  much,  for  you 
know  how  high  were  my  anticipations,  and  if  you  do  not,  poor 
Phillips,  now  no  more,  who  always  so  highly  appreciated  you, 
could  have  told  you  how  surely  and  how  often  I  predicted 
your  great  and  inevitable  success.  The  *  Autocrat '  is  an  insepa- 


336  MOTLEY'S  LETTEKS.  [Chap.  XII. 

rable  companion,  and  will  live,  I  think,  as  long  certainly  as 
anything  which  we  have  turned  out  on  our  side.  It  is  of  the 
small  and  rare  class  to  which  '  Montaigne's  Essays,'  *  Elia,'  and 
one  or  two  other  books  belong,  which  one  wishes  to  have  for 
ever  under  one's  thumb.  Every  page  is  thoughtful,  suggestive, 
imaginative,  didactic,  witty,  stimulating,  grotesque,  arabesque, 
titillating — in  short,  I  could  string  together  all  the  adjectives 
in  the  dictionary  without  conveying  to  you  an  adequate 
expression  of  my  admiration. 

In  order  that  you  shall  not  think  me  merely  a  devourer  and 
not  an  appreciator,  I  will  add  that  the  portions  which  give  me 
the  most  pleasure  are  those,  by  far  the  largest,  which  are 
grave,  earnest,  and  profound ;  and  that  the  passages  least  to 
my  mind  are  those  which  in  college  days  would  have  most 
highly  delighted  me — viz.,  the  uproariously  funny  ones.  But, 
as  Touchstone  observes,  "  we  that  have  good  wits  cannot  hold, 
we  must  be  flouting,"  and  I  do  not  expect  to  bottle  you  up. 
I  have  not  the  book  at  my  elbow  at  this  moment,  and  am  too 
lazy  to  go  downstairs  to  fetch  it,  but  as  an  illustration  of  what 
I  most  enjoy,  take  such  a  passage  as  about  our  brains  being 
clock-work.  I  remember  nothing  of  the  diction  at  this  instant, 
but  the  whole  train  of  thought  is  very  distinct  to  me.  Also 
the  bucketful  of  fresh  and  startling  metaphors  which  the 
autocrat  empties  on  the  head  of  the  divinity  student  in  return 
for  his  complimentary  language  as  to  the  power  of  seeing 
analogies.  Also — but  I  shall  never  get  any  further  in  this 
letter  if  I  once  begin  to  quote  the  '  Autocrat,'  so  I  will  only 
add  that  I  admire  many  of  the  poems,  especially  the  Voiceless, 
which  I  am  never  tired  of  repeating.  It  is  scarcely  necessary 
for  me  to  add  that  it  is  always  with  a  deep  sensation  of  pride 
and  pleasure  that  I  turn  to  page  28  and  read  the  verses 
therein  inscribed.  Strange  to  s^y,  I  have  not  yet  read  the 
*  Professor  at  the  Breakfast  Table.^'  I  tried  to  buy  it  the  other 
day  at  Sampson  Low's,  one  of  the  chief  American  re-publishers 

or  importers,  but  he  said  that  it  Jiad  been  done  by  

(gentlemen  who  have,  among  others,  done  me  the  same  favour). 

Is  there  no  chance  of  ever  getting  an  international  Copy- 
right  Bill  and  hanging  these   filibusters,  who  are  legally 


18C0.]  INTERNATIONAL  COPYRIGHT.  387 

picking  the  pockets  of  us  poor  devil  authors,  who  would  fain 
become  rich  devils  if  we  could  ?  Why  do  you  not  make  use 
of  your  strong  position,  having  the  whole  American  public  by 
the  button,  to  make  it  listen  to  reason.  If  I  were  an  autocrat 
like  you,  I  would  issue  an  edict  immediately.  Or  I  would 
have  a  little  starling  that  should  say  nothing  but  "  copyright " 
and  let  the  public  hear  nothing  else.  Let  me  not  omit  to 
mention  also  with  how  much  pleasure  I  read  your  poem  on 
Burns.  It  is  magnificent,  and  every  verse  rings  most  sym- 
pathetically upon  the  heart.  So  you  see  we  do  not  lose  the 
run  of  you,  although  I  have  been  so  idle  about  writing,  and 
I  am  promising  myself  much  pleasure  from  the  *  Professor  at 
the  Breakfast  Table,'  which  I  shall  have  sent  to  me  from 
Boston.  By  the  way,  I  bagged  the  other  day  a  splendid  pre- 
sentation copy  of  the  *  Autocrat,'  which  you  had  sent  to 
Trubner  for  some  one  else,  and  I  gave  it  to  Mrs.  Norton  (of 
whom  you  have  heard  often  enough,  and  who  is  a  poet  herself), 
who  admires  it  as  much  as  I  do.  I  do  not  know  whether  I 
shall  like  the  novel  as  well  as  your  other  readers  are  likely 
to  do,  because  the  discursive,  irresponsible,  vagrant  way  of 
writing  which  so  charms  me  in  the  *  Autocrat '  is  hardly  in 
place  in  a  narrative,  and  for  myself  I  always  find,  to  my 
regret,  that  I  grow  every  year  less  and  less  capable  of  reading 
novels  or  romances.  I  wish  it  were  not  so.  However,  I  doubt 
not  you  will  reclaim  me,  but  I  do  not  mean  to  read  it  until  it 
is  finished. 

I  have  not  a  great  deal  to  talk  about  now  that  I  find  myself 
face  to  face  with  you.  We  have  been,  by  stress  of  circum- 
stances rather  than  choice,  driven  to  England,  and  we]^have 
seen  a  great  deal  of  English  society,  both  in  town  and  country. 
We  have  received  much  kindness  and  sat  at  many  "good 
men's  feasts  " ;  and  T  must  say  that  I  have,  as  I  always  had,  a 
warm  affection  for  England  and  the  English.  I  have  been 
awfully  hard  at  work  for  the  last  year  and  a  half,  with  unlucky 
intermissions  and  loss  of  time,  but  I  hope  to  publish  a  couple 
of  bulky  volumes  by  the  beginning  of  next  year.  There  is  a 
cartload  of  MS.  already  in  Murray's  hands,  but  I  do  not  know 
how  soon  we  shall  begin  to  print. 

VOL.  I.  z 


338  MOTLEY'S  LETTEES.  [Chap.  XII. 

I  wish  when  you  write — and  you  see  that  I  show  a  generous 
confidence  in  your  generosity  by  assuming  that  you  will  write 
notwithstanding  my  delinquencies — you  would  tell  me  what  is 
going  on  in  your  literary  world,  and  also  something  about 
politics.  One  can  get  but  little  from  the  newspapers — but  I 
should  really  like  to  know  what  chance  there  is  of  the  country's 
being  rescued  from  the  Government  which  now  oppresses  us. 
But  I  forget,  perhaps  you  are  not  a  Kepublican,  although  I  can 
hardly  conceive  of  your  being  anything  else.  With  regard  to 
my  views  and  aspirations,  I  can  only  say  that  if  Seward  is  not 
elected  (provided  he  be  the  candidate)  this  autumn,  good- 
night, my  native  land  !  I  admire  his  speech,  and.  agree  with 
almost  every  word  he  says,  barring  of  course  the  little  senti- 
mentality about  the  affection  we  all  feel  for  the  South,  which 
I  suppose  is  very  much  like  the  tenderness  of  Shylock — 
*'  Kind  sir,  you  spat  on  me  on  Thursday  last,  you  spurned 
me  such  a  day,  and  another  time  you  called  me  dog,  and  for 
these  courtesies,"  etc.,  etc.  However,  if  Mr.  Seward  thinks  it 
Avorth  while  to  stir  in  a  little  saccharine  of  this  sort,  he  knows 
best.  The  essential  is  to  get  himself  nominated  and  elected. 
Now  please  write  and  tell  me  what  the  chances  are,  always 
provided  you  agree  with  me,  but  not  if  you  are  for  the  pro- 
slavery  man,  whoever  he  may  be.  I  have  not  yet  succeeded 
in  suppressing  Louis  Napoleon,  who  bamboozles  the  English 
Cabinet  and  plays  his  fantastic  tricks  before  high  heaven  with 
more  impunity  than  ever.  Of  a  truth  it  may  be  said  now — three 
hundred  years  ago  it  was  uttered  by  one  of  the  most  illustrious 
of  her  sons — "  Gallia  silvescit."  What  can  be  more  barbarous 
than  the  condition  of  a  country  relapsed  of  its  own  choice  under 
a  military  despot  ? 

Pray  remember  us  most  kindly  to  your  wife  and  children, 
and  believe  me  always 

Most  sincerely  yours, 
\  J.  L.  Motley. 

Pray  remembisr  me  most  affectionately  to  all  the  fellows  at 
the  Club.  \ 


1800.]  NATHANIEL  HAWTHORNE.  339 


From  Mr.  N.  Hawthorne. 

13,  Charles  Street,  Batli, 
April  IsU  1800. 

My  dear  Motley, — You  are  certainly  that  Gentle  Header 
for  whom  all  my  books  were  exclusively  written.  Nobody  else 
{my  wife  .excepted,  who  speaks  so  near  that  I  cannot  tell  her 
voice  from  my  own)  has  ever  said  exactly  what  I  loved  to 
hear.  It  is  most  satisfactory  to  be  hit  upon  the  raw,  to  be 
shot  straight  through  the  heart.  It  is  not  the  quantity  of 
your  praise  that  I  care  so  much  about  (though  I  gather  it  all 
up  most  carefully,  lavish  as  you  are  of  it),  but  the  kind,  for 
you  take  the  book  ^  precisely  as  I  meant  it,  and  if  your  note 
had  come  a  few  days  sooner  I  believe  I  should  have  printed  it 
in  a  postscript  which  I  have  added  to  the  second  edition, 
because  it  explains  better  than  I  found  it  possible  to  do 
myself,  the  way  in  which  my  romance  ought  to  be  taken.  .  .  . 

Now  don't  suppose  that  I  fancy  the  book  to  be  a  tenth  part 
as  good  as  you  say  it  is.  You  work  out  my  imperfect  efforts 
and  half  make  the  book  with  your  own  imagination  and  see 
what  I  myself  saw  but  could  only  hint  at. 

Well,  the  romance  is  a  success  even  if  it  never  finds  another 
reader. 

We  spent  the  winter  in  Leamington,  whither  we  had  come 
from  the  sea-coast  in  October.  I  am  sorry  to  say  that  it  was 
another  winter  of  shadow  and  anxiety,  not  on  Una's  account, 
however,  but  my  wife's.  She  had  an  attack  of  acute  bronchitis, 
which  reduced  her  very  low,  and  (except  for  an  enduring 
faith  in  the  energy  and  elasticity  of  her  constitution)  I  should 
have  been  almost  in  despair.  After  a  long  confinement  to  her 
bed  she  at  last  recovered  so  far  as  to  enable  us  to  remove  from 
Leamington  to  Bath ;  and  the  change  of  air  seems  to  have 
been  very  beneficial.  The  physician  feels  confident  that  she 
will  be  quite  restored  by  our  return  to  the  United  States.  I 
have  engaged  our  passages  for  June  16th,  and  patriotic  as 
you  know  me  to  be,  you  can  conceive  the  rapture  with  which 
I  shall  embrace  my  native  soil.  Mrs.  Hawthorne  and  the 
*  Hawthorne's  Bomonce, '  The  Marble  Faun.' 

z  2 


340  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  XIL 

children  will  probably  remain  in  Bath  until  the  eve  of  our 
departure  ;  but  I  intend  to  pay  one  more  visit  of  a  week  or 
two  in  London,  and  I  shall  certainly  come  and  see  you.  I 
wonder  at  your  lack  of  recognition  of  my  social  propensities. 
I  take  so  much  delight  in  my  friends  that  a  little  intercourse 
goes  a  great  way  and  illuminates  my  life  before  and  after. 

Are  you  never  coming  back  to  America  ?  It  is  dreary  to 
stay  away,  although  not  very  delightful  to  go  back.  I  should 
be  most  happy,  and  so  would  my  wife,  to  think  that  Mrs.  Motley 
and  yourself  and  your  daughters  were  within  our  reach,  and 
really  you  ought  to  devote  yourselves  in  the  cause  of  your 
country.  It  is  the  worst  sort  of  treason  for  enjoyable  people 
to  expatriate  themselves. 

Your  friend, 

Nath.  Hawthoenk 


From  Br,  0.  W.  Holmes. 


Boston, 
Avril  2dth,  1860. 

It  was  SO  pleasant,  my  dear  Lothrop,  to  get  a  letter  from 
you.  I  have  kept  it  a  week  or  two  so  as  to  have  something 
more  to  tell  you,  yet  I  fear  it  will  not  be  much  after  all. 
Yesterday,  the  Saturday  Club  had  its  meeting,  I  carried  your 
letter  in  my  pocket,  not  to  show  to  anybody,  but  to  read  a 
sentence  or  two  which  I  knew  would  interest  them  all,  and 
especially  your  kind  message  of  remembrance.  All  were  de- 
lighted with  it ;  and  on  my  proposing  your  health,  all  of  them 
would  rise  and  drink  it  standing.  We  then,  at  my  sugges- 
tion, gave  three  times  three  in  silence,  on  account  of  the 
public  character  of  the  place  and  the  gravity  and  position 
of  the  high  assisting  personages.  Be  assured  that  you  were 
heartily  and  affectionately,  not  to  say  proudly,  remembered. 
Your  honours  are  our  honours,  and  when  we  heard  you  had 
received  that  superioi"  tribute,  which  stamps  any  foreigner's 
reputation  as  planetary,  at  the  hands  of  the  French  Institute, 
it  was  as  if  each  of  us^  had  had  a  ribbon  tied  in  his  own 


18G0.]  THE  PRESIDENTIAL  CAMPAIGN.  341 

button-hole.  I  hoped  very  much  to  pick  up  something  which 
might  interest  you  from  some  of  our  friends  which  know  more 
of  the  political  movements  of  the  season  than  I  do. 

I  vote  with  the  Kepublican  party.  I  cannot  hesitate 
between  them  and  the  Democrats.  Yet  what  the  Republican 
party  is  now  doing  it  would  puzzle  me  to  tell  you.  What  its 
prospects  are  for  the  next  campaign,  perhaps  I  ought  to  know, 
but  I  do  not.  I  am  struck  with  the  fact  that  we  talk  very 
little  politics  of  late  at  the  Club.  Whether  or  not  it  is  dis- 
gust at  the  aspect  of  the  present  political  parties,  and  espe- 
cially at  the  people  who  represent  them,  I  cannot  say ;  but 
the  subject  seems  to  have  been  dropped  for  the  present  in 
such  society  as  I  move  about  in,  and  especially  in  the  Club. 
We  discuss  first  principles,  enunciate  axioms,  tell  stories,  make 
our  harmless  jokes,  reveal  ourselves  in  confidence  to  our  next 
neighbours  after  the  Chateau  Margaux  has  reached  the  emo- 
tional centre,  and  enjoy  ourselves  mightily  But  we  do  not 
talk  politics.  After  the  President's  campaign  is  begun,  it  is 
very  likely  that  we  may,  and  then  I  shall  have  something  more 
to  say  about  Mr.  Seward  and  his  prospects  than  I  have  now. 

How  much  pleasure  your  praise  gave  me  I  hardly  dare  to 
say.  I  know  that  I  can  trust  it.  You  would  not  bestow  it 
imless  you  liked  what  I  had  done,  but  you  would  like  the 
same  thing  better  if  I  had  done  it  than  coming  from  a 
stranger.  That  is  right  and  kind  and  good,  and  notwith- 
standing you  said  so  many  things  to  please  me,  there  were 
none  too  many.  I  love  praise  too  well  always,  and  I  have  had 
a  surfeit  of  some  forms  of  it.  Yours  is  of  the  kind  that  is 
treasured  and  remembered.  I  have  written  in  every  number 
of  the  Atlantic  since  it  began.  I  should  think  myself  indus- 
trious if  I  did  not  remember  the  labours  you  have  gone 
through,  which  simply  astonish  me.  What  delight  it  would 
be  to  have  you  back  here  in  our  own  circle  of  men — I  think 
we  can  truly  say  whom  you  would  find  worthy  companions : 
Agassiz,  organising  the  science  of  a  hemisphere ;  Longfellow, 
writing  its  songs  ;  Lowell,  than  whom  a  larger,  fresher,  nobler, 
and  more  fertile  nature  does  not  move  among  us ;  Emerson, 
with  his  strange,  familiar  remoteness  of  character,  I  do  not 


342  MOTLEY'S  LETTEES.  [Chap.  ill. 

know  what  else  to  call  it ;  and  Hawthorne  and  Dana,  when  he 
gets  back  from  his  voyage  round  the  world,  and  all  the  rest  oi 
us  thrown  in  gratis.     But  you  must  not  stay  too  long;  if  all  ■ 
the  blood  gets  out  of  your  v.eins,  I  am  afraid  you  will  transfer 
your  allegiance. 

I  am  just  going  to  Cambridge  to  an  "  exhibition,"  in  which 
Oliver  Wendell  Holmes  speaks  a  translation  (expectatur  versio 
in  lingua  vernacula),  the  Apology  for  Socrates;  Master  0.- W. 
Holmes,  Jun.,  being  now  a  tall  youth,  almost  six  feet  high, 
and  lover  of  Plato  and  of  Art. 

I  ought  to  have  said  something  about  your  grand  new  book;, 
but  I  have  not  had  time  to  do  more  than  read  some  passages 
from  it.  My  impression  is  that  of  all  your  critics,  that  you 
have  given  us  one  of  the  noble  historical  pictures  of  our 
time,  instinct  with  life  and  glowing  with  the  light  of  a 
poetical  imagination,  which  by  itself  would  give  pleasure, 
but  which,  shed  over  a  great  epoch  in  the  records  of  our  race, 
is  at  once  brilliant  and  permanent.  In  the  midst  of  so  much 
that  renders  the  very  existence  of  a  civilisation  amongst  us 
problematical  to  the  scholars  of  the  Old  World,  it  is  a  great 
pleasure  to  have  the  cause  of  letters  so  represented  by  one  of 
our  own  countrymen,  citizens,  friends.  Your  honours  belong 
to  us  all,  but  most  to  those  who  have  watched  your  upward 
course  from  the  first,  who  have  shared  many  of  the  influences, 
which  have  formed  your  own  mind  and  character,  and  wha 
now  regard  you  as  the  plenipotentiary  of  the  true  Eepublie 
accredited  to  every  Court  in  Europe, 


To  his  Mother. 


\  81,  Hertford  Street,  Mayfair, 

May  10th,  1860. 

My  deaeest  Mothee, — I  send  by  this  steamer  a  copy  of 
the  Times  containing  an  account  of  the  Anniversary  Banquet 
of  the  Koyal  xlcademy. .  You  will  see  that  I  was  called  on  to 
respond  to  the  toast  of  Literature,  and  that  I  was  obliged  to 
make  a  short  speech.     It  was  a  most  awful  ordeal.     For  the 


I860.]  THE  ROYAL  ACADEMY  DINNER.  343 

company  is  exceedingly  select,  which  made  the  compliment 
very  great,  but  the  feeling  of  trepidation  still  greater.  How- 
ever, as  I  knew  a  day  or  two  beforehand  that  I  was  to  be  called 
on,  I  got  out  of  the  scrape  pretty  well,  and  received  much 
applause  and  congratulations  afterwards.  But  it  was  quite 
impossible  for  me  to  enjoy  the  dinner  as  I  should  have  done 
had  I  been  merely  a  spectator.  Fancy  being  obliged  to  get 
up  and  address  such  an  awful  set  of  swells  as  the  Cabinet 
Ministers,  Palmerston,  Gladstone,  Lord  Kussell,  the  Chancellor, 
the  judges,  the  Opposition  fellows,  Dizzy  and  the  rest,  the  Lord 
Mayor  in  all  his  glory,  all  the  artists,  and  many  distinguished 
men  of  letters  !  It  was  a  horrible  moment  for  a  bashful  youth 
like  me !  The  dinner  was  in  itself  a  very  pretty  sight.  It  was 
in  the  principal  hall  of  the  Exhibition  (opened  that  day  and 
the  day  before  for  invited  guests  only,  and  made  public  a  day 
or  two  afterwards).  The  leading  pictures  of  the  year  cover 
the  walls  of  the  room.  The  dinner  begins  at  six,  and  as  the 
twilight  comes  on,  after  the  tables  are  cleared,  the  choristers 
begin  *  God  Save  the  Queen.'  At  the  first  stave  the  gas  is 
suddenly  let  on,  and  the  walls  become  alive  and  glowing  with 
the  pictures.  The  effect  is  very  startling  and  brilliant.  There 
is  to  be  another  dinner,  that  of  the  Literary  Fund,  next  week. 
I  have  accepted  the  office  of  steward,  one  of  the  twenty  of 
course  merely  nominal  officers,  but  with  the  express  condition 
that  I  am  not  to  be  called  on  for  a  speech.  I  wish  to  have  the 
satistaction  this  time  of  enjoying  the  dinner  and  hearing  the 
others,  which  I  cannot  do  with  the  knowledge  that  I  am  to  be 
served  up  as  a  part  of  the  entertainment. 

Of  course  it  is  unnecessary  to  add  that  this  is  strictly 
between  ourselves.  I  hardly  feel  at  home  here  yet,  and  am 
discontented  and  fidgety  because  I  have  not  yet  got  to  work. 
I  always  feel  thrown  on  my  beam  ends  when  I  am  compelled 
to  be  idle.  However,  I  have  a  good,  comfortable,  little  library, 
with  all  my  books  and  papers  arranged,  and  it  will  be  my  own 
fault  if  I  do  not  turn  off  a  good  lot  of  MS.  daily  so  soon  as 
the  mill  gets  going,  which  will  be  to-morrow. 

Good-bye  for  the  moment,  my  dearest  mother.  I  pray  most 
fervently  that  you  may  continue  in  good  health,  and  that  you 


344  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  XII. 

will  pass  a  happy  summer  at  Eiverdale.  Write  to  me  as  often 
as  you  can,  if  only  a  few  lines,  which  gives  us  always  the 
greatest  pleasure.  All  send  much  love  to  my  father  and  your- 
self, and  I  remain 

Most  affectionately  yours, 

J.  L.  M. 

P.S. — We  had  one  glimpse,  but  a  delightful  one,  of  the 
Agassizs.  They  only  stayed  three  days  in  London.  They 
would  have  been  overwhelmed  with  invitations  had  they 
remained,  which  I  suppose  was  one  reason  for  their  rapid 
departure. 


To  his  Mother. 

31,  Hertford  Street,  London, 
June  22nd,  1860. 

My  deaeest  Mother, — I  do  so  long  to  see  you  again,  and 
feel  very  unhappy  that  the  work  which  I  have  given  myself  to 
do  seems  to  protract  our  exile.  My  two  volumes  will  be  pub- 
lished, I  suppose,  early  in  November,  and  I  hope  will  prove 
interesting,  although  they  do  not  cover  so  large  a  space  of 
time  as  I  expected  would  be  the  case  when  I  began  them. 
But  my  materials  have  grown  so  enormously  on  my  hands  that 
I  have  found  it  difficult  to  keep  within  reasonable  bounds. 
The  next  two,  which  will  complete  the  work,  will  travel  over 
a  much  longer  range  of  years. 

Lily's  letter  has  so  well  described  the  "  Commemoration 
Day  "  at  Oxford,  when  I  received  my  honorary  degree  of  Civil 
Law,  that  there  is  no  need  of  my  saying  anything  about  it.  It 
was  an  honour  quite  unexpected  and  unsolicited  by  me.^ 
Indeed,  I  knew  nothing  of  it  until  the  other  morning,  when 
Dean  Milman,  in  inviting  me  to  breakfast,  congratulated  me. 
When  I  went  there  I  told  him  there  must  be  some  mistake, 
but  on  returning  to  my  house  I  found  the  official  communica- 
tion.    The  only  thing  I  have  to  add  to  Lily's  account  is  a 

'  He,   with    his    wife    and    eldest      Westminster)  and  of  his   sister  Miss 
daughter,    were   the    guests   of    Rev.       Stanley. 
Arthur  Stanley  (afterwards  Dean  of 

\ 

\ 


18G0.]  OXFORD  COMMEMORATION.  345 

slight  allusion  to  the  absurd  figure  the  Doctors  cut  walking 
gravely  through  the  streets. 

"  A  long  red  gown,  well  brushed  and  neat, 
Wo  manfully  did  throw  " 

over  the  customary  suit  of  solemn  black,  and  then  with  a  vast 
black  velvet  machine  on  the  head,  something  between  the 
Doge  of  Venice's  cap  and  a  large  coal  scuttle,  we  proceeded 
through  the  rain  with  as  much  solemnity  as  if  we  were^not  the 
most  absurd  caricature  in  the  world.  And  the  best  of  it  was, 
that  even  the  street  boys,  who  I  supposed  would  receive  us 
with  jeers  and  chaflf,  were  evidently  very  much  in  awe  of  us. 

Nothing  could  be  more  absurd  than  old  Brougham's  figure, 
long  and  gaunt,  with  snow-white  hair  under  the  great  black 
porringer,  and  with  his  wonderful  nose  wagging  lithely  from 
side  to  side  as  he  hitched  up  his  red  petticoats  and  stalked 
through  the  mud.  Three  of  the  new-made  Doctors  were 
very  distinguished  personages — Lord  Brougham,  Sir  Kichard 
Bethell  (the  Attorney-General),  and  Leopold  MacClintock. 
The  other  three — viz.,  Swedish  envoy,  Platen,  Count  Strzelecki, 
and  the  humble  writer  of  this  note — were  much  less  known  to 
fame.  You  would  know  that  I  am  not  writing  this  out  of  mock 
modesty,  even  if  I  were  capable  of  such  an  affectation,  if  you 
could  have  heard  the  tempest  of  cheers  and  hand-clapping 
that  greeted  Brougham  and  MacClintock.  The  others  crept 
in  under  a  very  mild  expression  of  approbation  from  the  gods 
in  the  gallery — videlicet  the  undergraduates — who  from  time 
immemorial  make  this  a  kind  of  "nigger's  holiday,"  and 
indulge  themselves  in  all  the  chaff  they  can  manufacture. 

I  regretted  very  much  that  the  weather  was  so  bad  that  we 
could  see  nothing  of  Oxford  to  any  advantage.  I  was  also  sorry 
that  on  the  Commemoration  Day  we  lunched  in  University 
Hall  rather  than  in  All  Souls',  where  we  were  also  expected, 
because  All  Souls'  was  founded  by  Archbishop  Chicheley,  in 
the  reign  of  Henry  VI.,  of  a  Northampton  family,  of  which 
your  grandfather  Checkley  was  no  doubt  descended.  Until 
very  recently,  any  one  proving  kindred  with  the  old  arch- 
bishop might  have  claimed  free  instruction  at  his  college,  so 
that  I  might  have  been  educated  at  All  Souls'  at  small  expense. 


346  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [CiiAr.  XIL 

but  the  privilege  is  now  done  away  with.  I  leave  to  Lily  the 
task  of  chronicling  our  movements,  as  she  does  it,  I  think,  very 
well  indeed,  and  is  fond  of  writing  letters,  while  I,  on  the  con- 
trary, am  so  fearfully  driven  for  time,  being  hard  at  work 
eight  hours  a  day,  when  I  can  secure  myself  against  interrup- 
tion, that  I  must  confine  myself,  until  my  volumes  are  done, 
to  very  brief  notes. 

Ever  your  most  affectionate  son, 

J.  L.  M. 


.  From  Lad]/  Bufferin  to  Ron.  Mrs.  Norton.^ 

Dear  Car, — Eefuges  have  been  erected  at  all  the  expoged 
parts  of  the  road,  pattens  are  provided  for  entering  the  dining- 
room  ;  water  souches  and  flounders  will  be  the  staple  of  the 
repast,  with  ducks,  snipes,  and  other  water  birds.  Beds — 
Avater  beds — are  provided  for  belated  travellers ;  in  short,  every 
aqueus  comfort  that  can  be  expected. 

"  Come  unto  these  yellow  sands."  Three  beaux  await  the 
fair  Lily,  who  must  be  a  water-lily  for  the  nonce,  and  a^warm 
welcome  for  the  rest.  I  trust  we  shall  be  able  to  keep  our 
heads  above  water,  and  have  no  doubt  the  little  aquatic  party 
will  get  on  swimmingly. 

Seriously,  you  will  all  be  very  welcome ;  and  what  signifies 
the  weather  to  determined  souls  in  waterproof  soles  ? 

Your  affectionate  Kaiad, 

H.  D. 


To  Ms  Mother. 

Duflferin  Lodge,  Highgatc. 
( •  ■  August  Uth,  1860. 

My  dearest  Mother, — It  gave  me  the  greatest  delight  to 
receive  once  more  a  letter  from  you,  and  although  you  do  not 
speak  of  your  health  in  quite  as  satisfactory  language  as  I  had 
hoped,  I  cannot  doubt  that  the  Nahant  air  has  been  rapidly 
bringing  you  up  beyond  the  former  level.     The  governor,  in 

'  Who  was  engaged  to  dine,  as  well  proved  so  wet  that  a  note  was  dis- 
as  Mr.,  Mrs.,  and  Miss  Motley,  at  patched  to  knowif  the  guests  were 
DnlTerin  Lodge,  Highgate.     The  day      stUl  expected.  .  . 


I860.]  LADY   DUFPERIN.  347 

his  last  letter,  spoke  of  you  in  such  sanguine  tenns  that  I  can- 
not help  feeling  entirely  encouraged  about  you.  We  havo 
been  here  at  this  pretty  villa  more  than  a  week.  I  do  not  know 
whether  any  of  us  have  ever  mentioned  that  we  were  coming 
here.  I  found  myself  a  little  run  down  at  the  fag  end  of  the 
season,  for  I  have  been  very  hard  at  work ;  and  so  Lady 
Dufferin,  who  is  the  most  kind-hearted  and  amiable  and  • 
accomplished  woman  in  the  world,  insisted  on  our  all  coming 
here  to  make  a  visit  of  a  week  or  two.  Little  Mary,  who 
was  also  rather  poorly,  has  picked  up  wonderfully  in  the  few 
days  that  we  have  spent  here.  We  return  to  town  to-morrow,  • 
and  have  hardly  time  to  get  ready  for  our  intended  visit  to  ' 
Scotland.  We  have  a  great  many  invitations  to  country  ' 
houses — I  hardly  know  how  many  we  shall  be  able  to  accept 
—but  our  head-quarters  will  be  Keir,  the  place  of  my  parti- 
cular friend  Stirling.  His  works  you  are  acquainted  with,  I 
know.  He  is  a  most  accomplished  writer,  a  good  speaker  in 
Parliament,  and  the  most  genial  and  delightful  of  companions. 
His  fortune  is  large,  and  his  family  very  ancient  and  distin- 
guished. You  will  find  his  place  mentioned  in  the  '  Lady  of 
the  Lake,'  in  the  description  of  Fitz James's  rapid  ride  after 
the  combat  with  Koderick  Dhu — 

*'  They  saw  just  glance  and  disappear 
The  lofty  brow  of  ancient  Kcir." 

Our  old  friends,  the  Misses  Forbes,  are  going  to  have  the 
children  for  a  visit  to  Aberdeen,  which  they  will  enjoy  very 
much,  and  meantime  we  can  make  our  visits  and  excursions. 

Lady  Dufferin  herself  went  yesterday  to  Ostend,  whither 
she  was  summoned  to  make  her  friend,  the  Prince  Regent  of 
Prussia,  a  visit ;  and  she  only  would  go  on  condition  that  we 
would  stay  on  making  use  of  her  establishment  here  as  long 
as  we  could.  There  is  too  great  a  blank  left,  however,  by  her 
departure,  and  we  shall  leave  to-morrow  morning.  Her  son. 
Lord  Dufferin,  has  gone  to  Syria  as  British  Commissioner,  and 
she  is  in  great  anxiety  for  fear  he  should  catch  the  fever,  which 
prevails  there  at  this  season.  He  is  very  amiable,  accom- 
plished, and  good-looking,  and  in  every  respect  worthy  to  b© 
son  to  such   a  mother.     You  know,   of  course,  that   Lady 


348  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  XII. 

Dufferin  is  sister  to  Mrs.  Norton.  The  other  sister,  the  Duchess 
of  Somerset,  has  been  kind  enough  to  invite  us  to  a  wedding 
which  is  to  take  place  on  the  25th  of  this  month  in  church, 
with  the  breakfast  afterwards  at  her  house,  thinking  that  we 
might  like  to  see  an  English  wedding.  The  couple  to  be 
married  are  a  very  pretty  Miss  Graham  with  a  young  oflScer 
named  Baring. 

I  feel  that  I  am  writing  a  very  stupid  letter,  but  in  truth  I 
have  got  very  much  out  of  the  way  of  writing  anything  but 
history.  I  feel  rather  anxious  about  my  new  volumes,  and  for 
this  reason.  When  I  handed  in  my  MS.  to  Murray  some  two 
or  three  months  ago,  I  called  it,  and  supposed  it.  Volume  I. ; 
but  to  my  horror,  I  found  that  it  would  make  two  large  volumes. 
Now  the  time  covered  is  so  short,  although  it  is  a  most  im- 
portant epoch,  I  thought  it  even  rather  too  brief  for  one 
volume.  Of  course,  therefore,  the  objection  is  double  for  two. 
However,  if  the  matter  seems  only  one-tenth  part  as  interest- 
ing to  the  reader  as  it  did  to  me  when  writing,  he  will  not 
quarrel  with  the  slow  movement  in  point  of  time.  I  can  hardly 
now  understand  how  I  managed  to  write  so  much,  for  I  have 
just  calculated  that  I  was  exactly  ten  months  and  a  half  writing 
the  whole,  which  is  rather  rapid  work  for  two  octavo  volumes. 
It  is  true  that  from  November  1858,  when  I  began  to  write, 
till  May  1860,  when  the  book  was  finished,  are  eighteen 
months ;  but  I  lost  the  whole  period  from  May  1859  to 
November  in  travelling  and  loafing.  You  must  not  think, 
however,  that  I  have  written  in  a  hurry,  for  I  have  not  done 
so  at  all,  and  I  am  only  surprised  that  what  I  thought  one 
volume  has  turned  out  two. 

The  remainder  of  the  work  will  be  about  as  much  more, 
namely,  two  yolumes,  but  they  will  go  over  six  times  as  much 
ground. 

I  hope  that  Vou  have  had  better  weather  than  ours.  I  never 
knew  that  such  "a  summer  could  be  as  this  has  been.  Literally 
and  honestly,  I  do  not  think  we  have  had  three  really  fine 
days  since  the  1st  of  May,  and  not  one  hot,  or  even  warm,  day. 
We  never  think  of  sunshine  any  more  than  if  such  an  article 
did  not  exist,  as  it  rains  regularly  every  day.     The  possibility 


18G0.]  LORD  DE  GREY.  349 

of  such  a  season  is  certainly  a  great  set-oflf  to  the  certainty 
that  we  can  never  have  one  of  our  horrible  winters.  A  New 
England  winter  and  an  Old  England  summer,  such  as  this  has 
been,  would  bring  the  world  to  an  end  very  soon. 

I  am  always  most  affectionately  yours, 

J.  L.  M. 


To  his  Mother. 

Studley  Royal,  Ripon, 
t  September  27th,  1860. 

My  dearest  Mother, — I  am  going  to  take  advantage  of 
your  permission  to  write  you  a  little  note  instead  of  a  long 
letter,  for  which  it  seems  to  me  that  I  never  shall  find  time. 
It  is  no  joke  to  do  what  I  am  now  doing,  namely,  making  a 
tour  of  country  visits  and  correcting  the  sheets  of  two  great 
octavo  volumes  while  on  the  road.  I  am  pursued  by  printer's 
devils  at  every  turn  and  by  every  post,  so  that  my  holiday  is 
not  a  pure  and  absolute  one  as  you  may  suppose,  and  when  I 
get  back  to  London  my  hard  labour  will  begin  afresh,  for  there 
are  two  more  volumes  unwritten,  which  must  be  finished  as 
soon  as  possible.  It  was  a  very  great  pleasure  to  us  all  to  see 
Tom,  and  to  have  such  fresh  and  delightful  news  of  you — ^for 
he  reports  you  as  in  better  health  than  for  some  years. 

We  came  to  this  place  the  day  before  yesterday. 

Lord  de  Grey  is  a  young  man,  one  of  the  rising  politicians 
of  England.  He  was  in  the  House  of  Commons  as  Lord 
Goderich  when  I  first  knew  him  two  years  ago,  but  since 
then  he  has  succeeded  to  the  earldoms  of  Kipon  and  de 
Grey  by  the  deaths  of  his  father  and  uncle,  and  he  is  now 
of  course  in  the  House  of  Peers.  He  is  Under-Secretary  for 
War,  and  he  is  a  hard-working  public  man,  and  a  most  amiable 
and  agreeable  companion.  His  wife  is  most  charming  and 
fascinating,  very  jpretty,  very  gentle,  and  very  amiable,  a 
great  favourite  in  London  society.  This  place,  Studley,  is  a 
large  house,  the  park  of  400  acres  is  very  magnificent,  and  the 
deer  swarm  about  it  in  every  direction.     They  have  become 


350  MOTLEY'S  LETTEES.  [Chap.  XII. 

SO  familiar,  lioweverj  as  hardly  to  seem  like  wild  animals, 
and  like  .the  beasts  roaming  over  the  plain  commemorated 
,  by  Mr.  Selkirk— 

"  Their  tameness  is  shocking  to  me." 

3?he  crowning  glory  of  the  place,  however,  is  Fountain's 
A"fcbey.  I  do  not  know  whether  you  ever  heard  of  it,  and  I 
doubt  whether  it  is  as  famous  as  Melrose  or  Tintern ;  but  I 
suspect  that  it  is  the  first  ecclesiastical  ruin  in  the  world. 

It  stands  in  the  most  .beautiful  part  of  Lord  de  Grey's  park, 
and  is  very  extensive.  The  tall  tower,  looking  at  a  little  dis- 
tance as  if  belonging  to  a  cathedral,  is  still  in  good  preserva- 
tion, but  as  you  come  Jiearer.  you  find  that  all  the  rest  of  the 
spacious  church  is  a  mass  of  most  picturesque  ruin,  with  large 
trees  growing  in  the  nave,  and  ivy  and  wild-flowers  festooning 
the  old  Norman  pillars  and  the  beautiful  lancet-shaped 
.  windows.  The  cloisters  are  very  extensive,  and  still  preserve 
their  roofs,  so  that  you  walk  through  their  whole  range  and 
look  out  through  the  windows  at  a  beautiml  stream  which 
murmurs  along  among  the  ruins,  and  at  twilight  or  moonlight 
it  would  not  require  a  violent  imagination  to  picture  the 
forms  of  hooded  monks  stalking  through  the  cloisters,  or  to 
hear  a  midnight  mass  pealing  from  the  ruined  choir  of  the 
.beautiful  chapel.  Descriptions  of  buildings  and  scenery  are  a 
bore,  so  I  shall  say  nothing  further  of  this  exquisite  ruin,  save 
to  repeat  that  it  is  far  the  most  impressive  one  that  I  have 
.€ver  seen,  and  much  more  beautiful  than  Melrose  Abbey.  We 
have  a  small  but  pleasant  party  here.  The  father  and  mother 
of  Lady  de  Grey,  Mr.  and  Lady  Mary  Yyner,  Mr.  Sidney 
Herbert  (the  Minister  of  War),  and  his  very  pretty  wife, 
jMrs.  Hughes,  wife  of  Tom  Hughes,  author  of  '  Tom  Brown's 
Schooldays,'  and  a  most  excellent  fellow,  who  I  am  sorry  to 
gay  is  only  coming  when  we  are  going,  and  one  or  two  others. 
j\Ir.  Herbert  is  one  of  the  most  distinguished  persons  in 
London,  being  very  handsome,  with  considerable  talents,  of 
I'amous  lineagie,  as  he  is  a  descendant  of  the  family  which 
numbers  Sir  Philip  Sidney  among  their  illustrations.  He  is 
himself  brother  Wd  heir  to  the  present  Earl  of  Pembroke. 


I860.]  SCOTLAND.  '351 

We  leave  this  I  suppose  on  Saturday  (day  after  to-morrow) 
for  Keir,  where  we  shall  stop  a  day,  and  on  ]\[onday  we  go  to 
Aberdeen,  where  Mary  and  Susie  are  passing  the  time  of  our 
absence  in  the  house  of  our  excellent  friends,  the  Miss  Forbes's, 
of  whom  you  have  often  heard  us  speak,  and  they  have  been 
making  several  visits  among  the  friends  of  that  family,  and 
passing  their  time  very  agreeably. 

Our  house  in  Hertford  Street,  which  I  have  taken  on  for  six 
months,  is  small,  but  very  neat  and  clean,  and  sufiQciently 
comfortable,  and  my  books  and  papers  are  all  ready  in  my 
library,  which  is  a  satisfactory  room  enough,  commanding  an 
uninterrupted  view  of  the  water-butt  and  the  dead  wall  of  an 
adjacent  house,  but  perfectly  quiet  and  retired.  This  is  a 
wretched  little  letter,  my  dear  mother,  but  it  will  serve  to 
express  my  affection  for  you,  and  my  delight  to  hear  that  your 
health  is  so  much  improved. 

Your  ever  affectionate  son, 
J.  L.  M. 


To  his  Mother. 

Taymouth  Castle, 

October  28th,  1860. 

My  deabest  Mother, — I  am  ashamed  to  think  how  long  it 
is  since  I  have  written  to  you.  .  .  .  You  may  imagine,  how- 
ever, that  letter-writing — even  to  you — has  been  an  absolute 
impossibility.  And  even  now  I  am  only  sending  you  a  little 
note — no  more — only  for  the  pleasure  of  talking  to  you  for 
the  moment,  and  sending  you  my  warmest  greetings  of  affec- 
tion not  in  the  shape  of  writing  anything  worth  the  trouble  of 
reading.  Most  unluckily,  too,  I  have  taken  up  my  headaches 
again,  and  have  been  and  am  still  enduring  one  unceasing 
one  of  four  days  and  nights  long.  After  having,  as  I 
thought,  entirely  distanced  them,  I  am  much  disappointed. 
I  think  Lily  has  written  to  you  a  pretty  full  account  of  our 
journeyings.  At  Keir  we  have  been  several  times.  We 
passed  a  week  in  the  wildest  part  of  the  Highlands,  at  a 
place  called  Glen  Quoich,  the  property  of  Mr.  Ellice,  an  old 


352  MOTLEY'S  LETTEES.  [Chap.  XII. 

gentleman  much  known  in  the  world  of  London,  once  a  Cabinet 
Minister  and  still  in  Parliament,  and  as  vigorous  and  active 
almost  as  Lord  Palmerston,  at  almost  the  same  age,  seventy- 
six.  He  went  to  America  two  years  ago  (where  both  in  New 
York  and  Canada  he  is  a  large  landowner),  and  returned 
extremely  delighted  with  everything  he  saw  and  heard  in  our 
country.  His  place  in  the  Highlands  he  has  created  out  of 
the  wilderness  during  the  last  twenty  years.  His  estate  runs 
thirty  miles  long,  through  mountain,  ravine,  torrent,  waterfall, 
deer  forest,  and  lonely  rocks,  and  his  house  is  the  only  habita- 
tion, except  the  cabins  of  some  of  his  own  people,  for  miles 
and  miles  around.  The  house  stands  on  the  very  edge  of  the 
wild  Loch  Quoich,  surrounded  by  purple  mountains  on  all 
sides.  Beyond  that  lake  is  a  magnificent  sea  inlet  called 
Loch  Hourn,  hemmed  in  by  precipitous  crags,  some  of  the 
more  distant  ones  3000  or  4000  feet  high,  with  the  heights  of 
the  Isle  of  Skye  in  the  background.  At  the  time  of  our  visit,  the 
second  week  in  October,  the  mountains  were  all  covered  nearly 
to  their  base  with  new  fallen  snow,  so  that  the  scenery  had  an 
almost  Alpine  expression,  and  as  the  outlines  are  always  bold  and 
picturesque,  the  views  were  certainly  of  a  very  noble  character. 

The  company  was  not  a  very  large  one.  Many  members  of 
his  family,  Mrs.  EUice,  his  son's  wife,  who  is  a  most  delightful 
person,  full  of  talent  and  amiable  qualities,  singing  like  a 
nightingale,  and  painting  portraits  or  caricatures  or  scenery 
like  a  professional  artist.  Lord  Stratford  de  Kedcliffe,  the 
ancient  Ambassador  in  Turkey,  with  his  wife  and  daughters, 
the  young  Chief  of  Lochiel,  and  a  few  others.  In  spite  of 
rain,  sleet,  and  snow,  walked,  drove,  and  fished,  and  were  very 
sorry  when  our  visit  came  to  an  end. 

We  afterwards  passed  a  few^  days  very  pleasantly  at  Inve- 
raray Castle,  the  seat  of  the  Duke  of  Argyll.  This  is  a  great 
turreted  building,  standing  near  Loch  Fyne  on  the  west  coast,, 
surrounded  by  very  grand  scenery  of  cliff,  wood,  and  water. 
The  present  head  of\all  the  Campbells,  the  MacCallum  More,, 
is  comparatively  young,  about  thirty-seven,  handsome,  with 
very  Scottish  golden  locks.  He  is  a  member  of  the  present 
Cabinet,  is  very  clever,  cultivated,  a  good  speaker,  an  excel- 


I860.]  TAYMOUTII  CASTLE.  353 

lent  man  of  affairs,  and  very  agreeable.  The  Duchess,  who  is 
daughter  to  the  Duchess  of  Sutherland,  is  gentle,  amiable,  and 
very  cultivated  and  attractive.  They  have  a  quiver  full  of 
cliildren  to  the  number  of  eleven.  We  passed  a  few  days 
rather  quietly,  but  much  to  our  satisfaction. 

We  have  now  been  spending  a  week  at  this  magnificent 
place,  one  of  the  most  princely  establishments  in  the  kingdom, 
Taymouth  Castle,  the  seat  of  the  Marquis  of  Breadalbane. 
The  house  stands  on  the  Tay,  a  dark,  transparent,  rapidly 
rolling  river,  which  flows  out  from  Loch  Tay,  about  two  miles 
oflf.  The  position  is  very  beautiful,  but  perhaps  in  some  degree 
melancholy,  as  the  house  and  pleasure-grounds  are  a  little  too 
much  shut  in  by  the  mountains  like  the  happy  valley  of 
Kasselas.  There  is  a  walk  along  the  Tay  on  both  sides,  under 
magnificent  beeches  two  or  three  miles  long,  with  the  most 
velvety  lawn  under  foot,  which  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful 
things  I  ever  saw.  Nothing  can  be  imagined  much  more 
agreeable  than  these  scenes,  where  a  beautiful  Nature  has  been 
assisted  to  decorate  itself  by  the  hands  of  Art  and  intelligent 
wealth.  Lord  Breadalbane  is  the  chief  of  another  branch  of 
the  great  Campbell  family.  He  is  about  sixty-eight  years  of 
age,  the  most  amiable,  kind-hearted,  and  benevolent  of  men, 
evidently  taking  the  greatest  delight  in  making  other  people 
happy.  The  Marchioness  is  somewhat  of  an  invalid,  but  is 
very  amiable,  accomplished,  and  agreeable.  There  are  several 
very  charming  young  girls  in  the  house,  especially  two  nieces 
of  Lord  Breadalbane,  and  other  young  people,  so  that  there  ara 
always  pleasant  excursions  all  day  long,  and  in  the  evening, 
after  the  magnificent  dinner  (which  is  always  like  a  royal  en- 
tertainment in  a  splendid  hall,  a  table  blazing  with  silver  and 
gold,  with  bag-pipes  blowing  martial  airs  in  alternation  with 
a  band  of  music),  comes  dancing  till  after  midnight,  reels  and 
flings,  and  strathspeys  and  Koger  de  Coverleys.  Last  night 
several  of  the  young  men  were  in  Highland  costume,  dancing 
as  only  Scotchmen  can,  or  do.  It  has  been  a  very  pleasant 
week  for  Lily  and  for  Mary.  As  for  myself,  I  should  have 
enjoyed  myself  better  if  I  had  not  been  tormented  with  this 
horrible  headache,  which  still  continues,  and  which  must  be 

VOL.  I.  2  a 


354  MOTLEY'S  LETTEES.  [Chap.  XII. 

my  excuse  for  the  fearful  stupidity  of  this  letter.  A  hundred 
pages  of  uncorrected  proofs  lie  glaring  at  me  in  my  dressing- 
room  ;  but  I  am  absolutely  incapable  of  reading,  and  I  am 
afraid  that  there  will  be  some  delay  in  the  book  if  my  head 
will  not  stop.  Good-bye,  my  dearest  mother.  I  promise 
faithfully  to  write  again  very  soon,  for  before  a  great  while 
the  printer's  devils  will  have  ceased  for  a  while  to  torment 
me.  Ever  your  most  affectionate  son, 

J.  L.  M. 


To  Ms  Mother. 

31,  Hertford  Street, 
November  19th.  I860. 

My  deaeest  Mothee, — Your  kind  letter  of  22nd  October 
reached  me  a  few  days  ago,  and  gave  me,  as  your  letters 
always  do,  very  great  pleasure.  As  to  the  governor,  he  seems 
to  grow  younger  every  day,  and  I  am  sure  that  I  should  not 
have  been  up  to  dancing  all  night  till  five  o'clock,  and  then 
getting  to  breakfast  in  the  country  by  8.30. 

The  Prince  of  Wales  has  returned,  after  a  passage  of  twenty- 
eight  days,  safe  and  sound.  I  met  him  at  dinner  at  Oxford 
just  before  he  sailed,  as  I  think  I  mentioned  to  you.  I  am  told 
that  the  Queen  is  much  pleased  with  the  enthusiasm  created 
in  America  by  his  visit.  I  am  sure  that  she  has  reason  to  be, 
and  all  good  Englishmen  rejoice  in  it.  It  was  certainly  a 
magnificent  demonstration  of  the  genuine  and  hearty  good 
feeling  that  exists  between  the  two  great  branches  of  the 
Anglo-Saxon  race,  and  I  read  the  long  accounts  given  in  the 
Times  by  the  special  correspondent  of  his  reception  in  New 
York  and  Boston  with  the  greatest  pleasure. 

I  am  very  sorry  that  I  cannot  exchange  congratulations  with 
the  governor  on  the  subject  of  the  Presidential  election.^  The 
account  has  this  instant  reached  us  by  telegraph,  and  although 
I  have  felt  lit^e  doubt  as  to  the  result  for  months  past,  and 
Tom  will  tell  you  that  I  said  so  at  Keir,  yet  as  I  was  so 
intensely  anxious  for  the  success  of  the  Eepublican  cause,  I 

>  The  first  election  of  Lincoln. 


A 


I860.]     PUBLICATION  OF  TUE    "UNITED  NETHERLANDS."     355 

was  on  tenterhooks  till  I  actually  knew  the  result.  I  rejoice 
in  the  triumph  at  last  of  freedom  over  slavery  more  than  I  can 
express.  Thank  God,  it  can  no  longer  be  said,  after  the  great 
verdict  just  pronounced,  that  the  common  law  of  my  country 
is  slavery,  and  that  the  American  flag  carries  slavery  with  it 

wherever  it  goes 

To  change  the  subject,  you  will  be  pleased  to  hear  that 
Mr.  Murray  had  his  annual  trade  sale  dinner  last  Thursday 
(15th).  This  is  given  by  him  in  the  City  to  the  principal 
London  booksellers,  and  after  a  three-o'clock  dinner,  he  offers 
them  his  new  publications.  You  will  be  glad  to  know  that  my 
volumes^  quite  took  the  lead,  and  that  he  disposed  at  once 
of  about  3000  copies.  As  he  only  intended  to  publish  2000, 
you  may  suppose  that  he  was  agreeably  disappointed.  He 
has  now  increased  his  edition  to  4000,  and  expects  to  sell  the 
whole.  After  that  he  will  sell  a  smaller  and  cheaper  edition. 
The  work  is,  however,  not  yet  published,  nor  will  it  be  for 
several  weeks.  I  am  very  glad  to  hear  that  you  are  pleased  with 
the  opening  pages.  The  volumes  have  cost  me  quite  as  much 
labour  as  the  other  work;  but,  alas,  I  have  no  William  of 
Orange  for  a  hero.  I  hope  the  governor  will  be  pleased  with 
them.  Ever  most  affectionately  your  son, 

J.  L.  M. 


From  M.  Barthelemy  St.  Hilaire. 

Paris,  rue  de  I'Emperenr,  54  (ancien  Montmartre), 
25  dScemhre  1860. 

Monsieur  et  tres  honorable  ami, — J'ai  reju  ces  jours-ci 
les  deux  volumes  que  vous  avez  bien  voulu  m'envoyer,  et  je 
vous  remercie  de  ce  beau  present.  C'est  une  digne  suite  a 
*  L'Histoire  de  la  Fondation  de  la  Kepublique  des  Provinces- 
Unies.'  Je  vous  lirai  avec  le  plus  grand  plaisir,  et  j'ai  deja 
vu  avec  un  tres  vif  interet  votre  chapitre  sur  I'invincible 
Armada.  Je  n'ai  vu  nulle  part  un  r^cit  plus  attachant  ni 
plus  complet  de  cette  abominable  entreprise.  Le  portrait  que 
vous  avez  trace  de  Philippe  II  est  aussi  exact  que  le  person- 
'  The  first  two  yolomes  of  the  •History  of  the  Netherlands.' 

2  A  2 


356  MOTLEY'S  LETTEES.  [Chap.  XU. 

nage  est  odieux.  Je  serai  presque  porte  a  croire  que  les 
souvenirs,  qui  datent  de  270  ans,  ne  laissent  pas  que  d'avoir 
aujourd'hui  leur  opportunite.  Mais  I'Angleterre  ne  se  laissera 
pas  surprendre  par  une  nouvelle  Armada,  ni  par  un  nouveau 
Philippe  II.  Le  mouvement  des  volontaires  atteste  que  la 
nation  est  plus  vigilante  encore  que  son  gouvernement.  Je 
crains  que  I'annee  prochaine  ne  demontre  la  haute  necessite 
de  cette  vigilance. 

II  faut  esperer  que  les  dissensions  qui  agitent  votre  patrie 
se  calmeront  bientot,  et  les  dernieres  nouvelles  sent  plus 
favorables.  II  me  semble,  autant  que  j'en  puis  juger,  que  le 
message  de  M.  Buchanan  offre  un  terrain  d'assez  facile  con- 
ciliation, mais  il  faudrait,  de  part  et  d'autre,  beaucoup  de 
sagesse  et  de  prudence. 

Nos  amis  les  Mohl  sent  ires  bien,  ainsi  que  nos  amis  de 
rinstitut.  Votre  bien  devoue, 

B^-  St.  Hilaiee. 


From  M.  Guizot. 


Paris,  52,  Eue  du  Faubourg  St.  Honor^, 
1  Janvier  1861. 

J'ai  repu.  Monsieur,  les  deux  nouveaux  volumes  de  votre 
histoire  des  Provinces-Unies,  et  je  vous  remercie  d'avance  du 
plaisir  que  j'aurai  a  vous  lire ;  je  suis  siir  que  j'y  trouverai 
le  meme  esprit  de  philosophie  chretienne  et  le  memo  talent 
dramatique  qui  ont  assure  a  votre  premier  ouvrage  un  succes 
si  legitime  et  si  general.  Desirez-vous  que  ces  deux  volumes 
soient  traduits  et  publics  en  France  comme  les  precedents? 
Je  ne  veux  faire,  a  ce  sujet,  aucune  demarche  avant  de  savoir 
quelles  sent  vos  intentions. 

Je  ne  me  promets  pas  de  pouvoir  vous  lire  tout  de  suite,  au 
milieu  du  bruit  de  Paris  en  hiver.  Mais  je  retournerai  a  la 
campagne  des  que  le  printemps  reparaitra,  et  je  reprendrai 
la  les  lectures  qui  charment  mes  loisirs. 

Eecevez,  je  vous  prie.  Monsieur,  avec  mes  remerciments, 
1 'assurance  de  toute  ma  consideration  et  de  mes  sentiments  les 
plus  distingues.  GuizoT. 


(    357    ) 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE  CRISIS  IN   AMERICA. 

The  Slavery  Question  in  America— A  dangerous  outlook — Letter  from  Dr.  O.  W. 
Holmes  on  the  labours  of  an  historian — The  gathering  storm — Literary 
gossip  from  Boston — Publication  and  reception  of  the  '  United  Netherlands ' 
in  America — The  Secessionists  and  public  opinion  in  England — Charles 
Dickens — ]ilr.  Wilkie  Collins — Letter  from  Mr.  W.  E.  Forster  on  the  crisis  in 
America  —  Letter  to  Dr.  O.  W.  Holmes — '  Elsie  Veniier ' — Letter  to  the 
Duchess  of  Argyll  on  the  American  crisis — Mr.  Motley  goes  to  Boston — State 
of  public  feeling — Mr.  Motley's  letter  to  the  Times — Causes  of  the  war — Bitter 
feeling  towards  England — A  "war  of  principle" — Unanimous  feeling  through- 
out the  North — General  Scott — His  supposed  plans — The  army  in  camp — 
Visit  to  Washington — Evacuation  of  Harper's  Ferry — Gen.  McClellaa — 
Disposition  of  the  army  round  Washington — Lord  Lyons — The  Four  Articles 
of  the  Congress  of  Paris — Mr.  Seward's  negotiations  with  England — Abraham 
Lincoln — England's  pohcy — The  blockade  and  the  cotton  crop — The  Army 
of  the  Potomac — Outpost  skirmishes — Massing  of  troops — Arlington  House 
— Objects  of  the  war  misunderstood  in  England — Mr.  Chase — Counter 
revolution  in  Virginia  and  other  States — The  Slavery  Question — England's 
attitude — General  McDowell — General  Scott  and  his  subordinates — Mr. 
Montgomery  Blair — Conversation  with  the  President  about  England — The 
President's  Message. 

To  his  Mother. 

31,  Hertford  Street, 

February  9th,  1861. 

My  DEAREST  Mother,  ....  I  wrote  you  a  long  letter  of 
eight  pages  yesterday,  and  then  tossed  it  into  the  fire, 
because  I  found  I  had  been  talking  of  nothing  but  American 
politics.  Although  this  is  a  subject  which,  as  you  may  sup- 
pose, occupies  my  mind  almost  exclusively  for  the  time 
being,  yet  you  have  enough  of  it  at  home,  as  before  this 
letter. reaches  you  it  will  perhaps  be  decided  whether  there 
is  to  be  civil  war,  peaceable  dissolution,  or  a  patch  up ;  it  is 
idle  for  me  to  express  any  opinions  on  the  subject.  I  do 
little  else  but  read  American  newspapers,  and  we  wait  with 
extreme  anxiety  to  know  whether  the  pro-slavery  party  will 


358  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  XIII. 

be  able  to  break  up  the  whole  compact  at  its  own  caprice,  to 
seize  Washington,  and  prevent  by  force  of  arms  the  inaugura- 
tion of  Lincoln.  That  event  must  necessarily  be  followed  by 
civil  war,  I  should  think.  Otherwise,  I  suppose  it  may  be 
avoided.  But  whatever  be  the  result,  it  is  now  proved  beyond 
all  possibility  of  dispute  that  we  never  have  had  a  government, 
and  that  the  much  eulogised  constitution  of  the  United  States 
never  was  a  constitution  at  all,  for  the  triumphant  secession 
of  the  Southern  States  shows  that  we  have  only  had  a  league 
or  treaty  among  two  or  three  dozen  petty  sovereignties,  each 
of  them  insignificant  in  itself,  but  each  having  the  power  to 
break  up  the  whole  compact  at  its  own  caprice.  Whether  the 
separation  takes  place  now,  or  whether  there  is  a  patch  up, 
there  is  no  escaping  the  conclusion  that  a  government  proved 
to  be  incapable  of  protecting  its  own  property  and  the  honour 
of  its  own  flag  is  no  government  at  all,  and  may  fall  to  pieces 
at  any  moment.  The  pretence  of  a  people  governing  itself, 
without  the  need  of  central  force  and  a  powerful  army,  is  an 
exploded  fallacy  which  can  never  be  revived.  If  there  is  a 
compromise  now,  which  seems  possible  enough,  because  the 
Northern  States  are  likely  to  give  way,  as  they  invariably 
have  done,  to  the  bluster  of  the  South,  it  will  perhaps  be  the 
North  which  will  next  try  the  secession  dodge,  when  we  find 
ourselves  engaged  in  a  war  with  Spain  for  the  possession  of 
Cuba,  or  with  England  on  account  of  the  reopened  African 
slave  trade,  either  of  which  events  are  in  the  immediate  future. 

But  I  find  myself  getting  constantly  into  this  maelstrom  of 
American  politics  and  must  break  off  short. 

I  send  you  by  this  mail  the  London  Times  of  the  7th  of 
February.  You  will  find  there  (in  the  parliamentary  reports) 
a  very  interesting  speech  of  Lord  John  Eussell ;  but  it  will  be 
the  more  interesting  to  you  because  it  contains  a  very  hand- 
some compliment  to  me,  and  one  that  is  very  gratifying.  I 
have  not  sent  you  the  different  papers  in  which  my  book  has 
been  reviewed,  excepting  three  consecutive  Times,  which  con- 
tain a  long  article.  I  suppose  that  'Littell's  Living  Age' 
reprints  most  of  these  notices.  And  the  Edinhurgh,  Quarterly 
and  Westminster  Beviews  (in  each  of  whose  January  numbers  the 


18G1.]  THE  LABOUIIS  OF  AN  IlISTOKIAN.  359 

work  has  been  reviewed)  are,  I  know,  immediately  reprinted. 
If  you  will  let  me  know,  however,  what  notices  you  have  seen, 
I  will  send  you  the  others  in  case  you  care  for  them. 

We  are  going  on  rather  quietly.  We  made  pleasant  country 
visits  at  Sidney  Herbert's,  Lord  Palmerston's,  Lady  Stanhope's, 
Lord  Ashburton's,  but  now  the  country  season  is  pretty  well 
oyer,  parliament  opened,  and  the  London  season  begun.  I  am 
hard  at  work  in  the  State  Paper  Ofiice  every  day,  but  it  will  be 
a  good  while  before  I  can  get  to  writing  again. 

I  am  most  affectionately  your  son, 

J.  L.  M. 


From  Br.  0.  W.  Holmes. 

Boston, 
Fehruarij  IGth,  1861. 

My  deab  Motley, — It  is  a  pleasing  coincidence  for  me 
that  the  same  papers  which  are  just  announcing  your  great 
work  are  telling  our  little  world  that  it  can  also  purchase,  if  so 
disposed,  my  modest  two  volume  story.  You  must  be  having 
a  respite  from  labour.  You  will  smile  when  I  tell  you  that 
I  have  my  first  vacation  since  you  were  with  us — when  was 
it  ?  in  '57  ? — but  so  it  is.  It  scares  me  to  look  on  your  labours, 
when  I  remember  that  I  have  thought  it  something  to  write 
an  article  once  a  month  for  the  Atlantic  Monthhj  ;  that  is  all 
I  have  to  show,  or  nearly  all,  for  three  and  a  half  years,  and 
in  the  meantime  you  have  erected  your  monument  more 
perennial  than  bronze  in  these  two  volumes  of  alto  relievo. 
I  will  not  be  envious,  but  I  must  wonder — wonder  at  the 
mighty  toils  undergone  to  quarry  the  ore  before  the  mould 
could  be  shaped  and  the  metal  cast.  I  know  you  must  meet 
your  signal  and  unchallenged  success  with  little  excitement, 
for  you  know  too  well  the  price  that  has  been  paid  for  it. 
A  man  does  not  give  away  the  best  years  of  a  manhood  like 
yours  without  knowing  that  his  planet  has  got  to  pay  for  his 
outlay.  You  have  won  the  name  and  fame  you  must  have  fore- 
seen were  to  be  the  accidents  of  your  career.  I  hope,  as  you 
partake  the  gale  with  your  illustrious  brethren,  you  are  well 
ballasted  with  those  other  accidents  of  successful  authorship. 


360  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  XIH. 

I  am  thankful  for  your  sake  that  you  are  out  of  this 
wretched  country.  There  was  never  anything  in  our  ex- 
perience that  gave  any  idea  of  it  before.  Not  that  we  have 
had  any  material  suffering  as  yet.  Our  factories  have  been 
at  work,  and  our  dividends  have  been  paid.  Society — in 
Boston,  at  least — has  been  nearly  as  gay  as  usual.  I  had  a 
few  thousand  dollars  to  raise  to  pay  for  my  house  in  Charles 
Street,  and  sold  my  stocks  for  more  than  they  cost  me.  We 
have  had  predictions,  to  be  sure,  that  New  England  was  to- 
be  left  out  in  the  cold  if  a  new  confederacy  was  formed,  and 
that  the  grass  was  to  grow  in  the  streets  of  Boston.  But 
prophets  are  at  a  terrible  discount  in  these  times,  and,  in 
spite  of  their  predictions,  Merrimac  sells  at  1125.  It  is  the 
terrible  uncertainty  of  everything — most  of  all  the  uncertainty 
of  opinion  of  men.  I  had  almost  said  of  principles.  From 
the  impracticable  Abolitionist,  as  bent  on  total  separation 
from  the  South  as  Carolina  is  on  secession  from  the  North, 
to  the  Hunker,  or  Submissionist,  or  whatever  you  choose  to 
call  the  wretch  who  would  sacrifice  everything  and  beg  the 
South's  pardon  for  offending  it,  you  find  all  shades  of  opinion 
in  our  streets.  If  Mr.  Seward  or  Mr.  Adams  moves  in  favour 
of  compromise,  the  whole  Eepublican  party  sways  like  a  field  of 
grain  before  the  breath  of  either  of  them.  If  Mr.  Lincoln  says 
he  shall  execute  the  laws  and  collect  the  revenue  though  the 
heavens  cave  in,  the  backs  of  the  Republicans  stiffen  again,  and 
they  take  down  the  old  revolutionary  king's  arms,  and  begin 
to  ask  whether  they  can  be  altered  to  carry  minie  bullets. 

In  the  meantime,  as  you  know  very  well,  a  monstrous 
conspiracy  has  been  hatching  for  nobody  knows  how  long,^ 
barely  defeated  in  its  first  great  move  by  two  occurrences — 
Major  Anderson's  retreat  to  Fort  Sumter,  and  the  exposure- 
of  the  great  defalcations.  The  expressions  of  popular  opinion 
in  Virginia  and  Tennessee  have  encouraged  greatly  those 
who  hope  for  union  on  the  basis  of  a  compromise ;  but  this- 
evening's  news  seems  to  throw  doubt  on  the  possibility  of  the 
North  and  the  Border  States  ever  coming  to  terms ;  and  I  see 
in  this  same  evening's  paper  the  threat  thrown  out  that  if 
the  Southern  ports  are   blockaded,  fifty  regiments  will  be 


1861.]  BOSTON  SOCIETY.  361 

set  in  motion  for  Washington !  Nobody  knows,  everybody 
guesses.  Seward  seems  to  be  hopeful.  I  had  a  long  talk  with 
Banks  ;  he  fears  the  formation  of  a  powerful  Southern  military 
empire,  which  will  give  us  trouble.  Mr.  Adams  predicts  that 
the  Southern  Confederacy  will  be  an  ignominious  failure. 

A  Cincinnati  pamphleteer,  very  sharp  and  knowing,  shows 
how  pretty  a  quarrel  they  will  soon  get  up  among  themselves. 
There  is  no  end  to  the  shades  of  opinion.  Nobody  knows 
where  he  stands  but  Wendell  Phillips  and  his  out-and-outers. 
Before  this  political  cataclysm  we  were  all  sailing  on  as 
quietly  and  harmoniously  as  a  crew  of  your  good  Dutchmen 
in  a  treckschuyt.  The  Club  has  flourished  greatly,  and  proved 
to  all  of  us  a  source  of  the  greatest  delight.  I  do  not  believe 
there  ever  were  such  agreeable  periodical  meetings  in  Boston 
as  these  we  have  had  at  Parker's.  We  have  missed  you,  of 
course,  but  your  memory  and  your  reputation  were  with  us. 
The  magazine  which  you  helped  to  give  a  start  to  has 
prospered  since  its  transfer  to  Ticknor  and  Fields.  I  suppose 
they  may  make  something  directly  by  it,  and  as  an  adver- 
tising medium  it  is  a  source  of  great  indirect  benefit  to  them. 
No  doubt  you  will  like  to  hear  in  a  few  words  about  its  small 
affairs.  I  don't  believe  that  all  the  Oxfords  and  Institutes  can 
get  the  local  recollections  out  of  you.  I  suppose  I  have  made 
more  money  and  reputation  out  of  it  than  anybody  else,  on  the 
whole.  I  have  written  more  than  anybody  else,  at  any  rate. 
]\Iiss  Prescott's  stories  have  made  her  quite  a  name.  Wentworth 
Higgin son's  articles  have  also  been  very  popular.  LowelPs 
critical  articles  and  political  ones  are  always  full  of  point,  but 
he  has  been  too  busy  as  editor  to  write  a  great  deal.  As  for 
the  reputations  that  were  touies  faites,  I  don't  know  that  they 
have  gained  or  lost  a  great  deal  by  what  their  owners  have 
done  for  the  Atlantic.  But  oh !  such  a  belabouring  as  I 
have  had  from  the  so-called  "  Evangelical  "  press  for  the  last 
two  or  three  years,  almost  without  intermission  !  There  must 
be  a  great  deal  of  weakness  and  rottenness  when  such  extreme 
bitterness  is  called  out  by  such  a  good-natured  person  as  I  can 
claim  to  be  in  print.  It  is  a  new  experience  to  me,  but  is 
made   up  by  a  great  amount  of  sympathy  from   men   and 


362  MOTLEY'S  LETTEES.  [Chap.  XIII. 

women,  old  and  young,  and  such  confidences  and  such  senti- 
mental epaneJiements,  that  if  my  private  correspondence  is  ever 
aired,  I  shall  pass  for  a  more  questionable  personage  than 
my  domestic  record  can  show  me  to  have  been. 

Come  now,  why  should  I  talk  to  you  of  anything  but  yourself 
and  that  wonderful  career  of  well-deserved  and  hardly-won 
success  which  you  have  been  passing  through  since  I  waved  my 
handkerchief  to  you  as  you  slid  away  from  the  wharf  at  East 
Boston  ?  When  you  write  to  me,  as  you  will  one  of  these  days, 
I  want  to  know  how  you  feel  about  your  new  possession,  a 
European  name.  I  should  like  very  much,  too,  to  hear  some- 
thing of  your  everyday  experiences  of  English  life, — how 
you  like  the  different  classes  of  English  people  you  meet — the 
scholars,  the  upper  class,  and  the  average  folk  that  you  may 
have  to  deal  with.  You  know  that,  to  a  Bostonian,  there  is 
nothing  like  a  Bostonian's  impression  of  a  new  people  or  mode 
of  life.  We  all  carry  the  Common  in  our  heads  as  the  unit  of 
space,  the  State  House  as  the  standard  of  architecture,  and 
measure  off  men  in  Edward  Everetts  as  with  a  yard-stick.  I 
am  ashamed  to  remember  how  many  scrolls  of  half-an-hour's 
scribblings  we  might  have  exchanged  with  pleasure  on  one  side, 
and  very  possibly  with  something  of  it  on  the  other.  I  have 
heard  so  much  of  Miss  Lily's  praises,  that  I  should  be  almost 
afraid  of  her  if  I  did  not  feel  sure  that  she  would  inherit  a 
kindly  feeling  to  her  father  and  mother's  old  friend.  Do 
remember  me  to  your  children;  and  as  for  your  wife,  who 
used  to  be  Mary  once,  and  I  have  always  found  it  terribly 
hard  work  to  make  anything  else  of,  tell  her  how  we  all 
long  to  see  her  good,  kind  face  again.  Give  me  some  stray 
half-hour,  and  believe  me  always  your  friend, 

O.  W^.  Holmes. 


To  his  Mother. 

31,  Hertford  Street, 

March  15th,  1861. 

My  deaeest   Mothee, — It    is   not   for    want   of 

affection  and  interest,  not  from  indolence,  but  I  can  hardly  tell 
you  how  difficult  it  is  to  me  to  write  letters.     I  pass  as  much 


1801]  PUBLICATION  IN  AMERICA.  303 

of  my  time  daily  as  I  can  at  the  State  Paper  Office,  reading 
hard  in  the  old  MSS.  there  for  my  future  volumes ;  and  as  the 
hours  are  limited  there  to  from  ten  till  four,  I  am  not  really 
master  of  my  own  time. 

I  am  delighted  to  find  that  the  success  of  the  'United 
Netherlands '  gives  you  and  my  father  so  much  pleasure.  It  is 
by  far  the  pleasantest  reward  for  the  hard  work  I  have  gone 
through  to  think  that  the  result  has  given  you  both  so  much 
satisfaction.  Not  that  I  grudge  the  work,  for,  to  say  the  truth, 
I  could  not  exist  without  hard  labour,  and  if  I  were  com- 
pelled to  be  idle  for  the  rest  of  my  days,  I  should  esteem 
it  the  severest  affliction  possible. 

My  deepest  regret  is  that  my  work  should  be  for  the  present 
on  the  wrong  side  of  the  Atlantic.  Before  leaving  the  subject 
of  the  new  volumes,  I  should  like  to  say  that  I  regret  that  no 
one  has  sent  me  any  of  the  numerous  reviews  and  notices  in 
the  American  papers  and  magazines  to  which  you  allude.  I 
received  a  number  of  the  New  York  Times  from  the  governor, 
and  also  the  Courier,  containing  notices.  The  latter,  which  was 
beautifully  and  sympathetically  written,  I  ascribed  to  Hil  lard's 
pen,  which  I  do  not  think  I  can  mistake.  If  this  be  so,  I  hope 
you  will  convey  my  best  thanks  to  him. 

These  are  the  only  two  which  have  been  sent  to  me,  and  it 
is  almost  an  impossibility  for  me  to  procure  American  news- 
papers here.  Of  course  both  Mary  and  Lily,  as  well  as  my- 
self, would  be  pleased  to  see  such  notices,  and  it  seems  so  easy 
to  have  a  newspaper  directed  to  31,  Hertford  Street,  with  a 
three  cent  stamp.  Fortunately  I  recently  subscribed  to  the 
Atlantic  Monthly,  and  so  received  the  March  number,  in  which 
there  is  a  most  admirably  written  notice,  although  more 
complimentary  than  I  deserve.  It  is  with  great  difficulty 
that  I  can  pick  up  anything  of  the  sort,  and  I  fear  now  that 
as  the  time  passes  it  will  be  difficult  for  me  to  receive  them 
from  America. 

The  Harpers  have  not  written  to  me,  but  I  received  a  line 
from  Tom  showing  that  the  book  was  selling  very  well  con- 
sidering the  times.  As  to  politics,  I  shall  not  say  a  word, 
except  that  at  this  moment  we  are  in  profound  ignorance  as  to 


364  MOTLEY'S  LETTEES.  [Chap.  XIII. 

what  will  be  the  policy  of  the  new  administration,  how  the 
inauguration  business  went  off,  and  what  was  the  nature  of 
Mr.  Lincoln's  address,  and  how  it  was  received,  all  which  you 
at  home  at  this  moment  have  known  for  eleven  days.  I  own 
that  I  can  hardly  see  any  medium  between  a  distinct  recogni- 
tion of  the  Southern  Confederacy  as  an  independent  foreign 
power,  and  a  vigorous  war  to  maintain  the  United  States 
Government  throughout  the  whole  country.  But  a  war  with- 
out an  army  means  merely  a  general  civil  war,  for  the  great 
conspiracy  to  establish  the  Southern  Eepublic,  concocted  for 
twenty  years,  and  brought  to  maturity  by  Mr.  Buchanan's 
Cabinet  Ministers,  has,  by  that  wretched  creature's  connivance 
and  vacillation,  obtained  such  consistency  in  these  fatal  three 
months  of  interregnum  as  to  make  it  formidable.  The  sym- 
pathy of  foreign  powers,  and  particularly  of  England,  on  which 
the  seceders  so  confidently  relied  to  help  them  on  in  their 
plot,  has  not  been  extended  to  them.  I  know  on  the  very 
highest  authority  and  from  repeated  conversations  that  the 
English  Government  looks  with  deepest  regret  on  the  dis- 
memberment of  the  great  American  Eepublic.  There  has 
been  no  negotiation  whatever  up  to  this  time  of  any  kind, 
secret  or  open,  with  the  secessionists.     This  I  was  assured  of 

three  or  four  days  ago At  the  same  time  I  am  obliged 

to  say  that  there  has  been  a  change,  a  very  great  change,  in 
English  sympathy  since  the  passing  of  the  Morrill  Tariff  Bill. 
That  measure  has  done  more  than  any  commissioner  from  the 
Southern  Eepublic  could  do  to  alienate  the  feelings  of  the 
English  public  towards  the  United  States,  and  they  are  much 
more  likely  to  recognise  the  Southern  Confederacy  at  an  early 
day  than  they  otherwise  would  have  done.  If  the  tariff  people 
had  been  acting  in  league  with  the  secessionists  to  produce  a 
strong  demonstration  in  Europe  in  favour  of  the  dissolution  of 
the  Union,  they  could  not  have  managed  better. 

1  hear  that  Lewis  Stackpole  is  one  of  the  most  rising  young 
lawyers  of  the  day,  that  he  is  very  popular  everywhere,  thought 
to  have  great  talents  for  his  profession,  great  industry,  and 
that  he  is  sure  to  succeed.  You  may  well  suppose  with  how 
much  delight  we  hear  such  accounts  of  him. 


18G1.]  CHARLES  DICKENS.  365 

My  days  are  always  spent  in  hard  work,  and  as  I  never  work 
at  night,  going  out  to  dinners  and  parties  is  an  agreeable  and 
useful  relaxation,  and  as  I  have  the  privilege  of  meeting  often 
many  of  the  most  eminent  people  of  our  times,  I  should  be 
very  stupid  if  I  did  not  avail  myself  of  it ;  and  I  am  glad  that 
Lily  has  so  good  an  opportunity  of  seeing  much  of  the  most 
refined  and  agreeable  society  in  the  world. 

The  only  very  distinguished  literary  person  that  I  have 
seen  of  late  for  the  first  time  is  Dickens.  I  met  him  last 
week  at  a  dinner  at  John  Forster's.  I  had  never  even  seen 
him  before,  for  he  never  goes  now  into  fashionable  company. 
He  looks  about  the  age  of  Longfellow.  His  hair  is  not 
much  grizzled  and  is  thick,  although  the  crown  of  his  head 
is  getting  bald.  His  features  are  good,  the  nose  rather  high, 
the  eyes  largish,  greyish  and  very  expressive.  He  wears 
a  moustache  and  beard,  and  dresses  at  dinner  in  exactly  the 
same  uniform  which  every  man  in  London  or  the  civilised 
world  is  bound  to  wear,  as  much  as  the  inmates  of  a  peni- 
tentiary are  restricted  to  theirs.  I  mention  this  because  I 
had  heard  that  he  was  odd  and  extravagant  in  his  costume. 
I  liked  him  exceedingly.  We  sat  next  each  other  at  table, 
and  I  found  him  genial,  sympathetic,  agreeable,  unafiected, 
with  plenty  of  light  easy  talk  and  touch-and-go  fun  without 
any  effort  or  humbug  of  any  kind.  He  spoke  with  great 
interest  of  many  of  his  Boston  friends,  particularly  of  Long- 
fellow, Wendell  Holmes,  Felton,  Sumner,  and  Tom  Appleton. 

I  have  got  to  the  end  of  my  paper,  my  dearest  mother,  and 

so  with  love  to  the  governor  and  A ,  and  all  the  family 

great  and  small,  I  remain, 

Most  affectionately  your  son, 

J.  L.  M. 

P.S. — I  forgot  to  say  that  another  of  Forster's  guests  was 
Wilkie  Collins  (the  *  Woman  in  White's '  author).  He  is  a 
little  man,  with  black  hair,  a  large  white  forehead,  large  spec- 
tacles, and  small  features.  He  is  very  unaffected,  vivacious, 
and  agreeable. 


366  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  XIII. 


From  Rf.  Eon.  W.  E.  Forster. 

Burnley,  near  Otley, 

March  3Qth,  1861. 

My  dear  Mr.  Motley, — I  am  very  much  obliged  to  you  for 
both  your  letters,  and  can  assure  you  that  they,  especially  the 
longer  one,  will  be  of  the  greatest  service  to  me,  if  I  take  part 
in  the  debate  on  the  16th  prox. 

As  I  go  up  to  London  next  Friday,  and  as  I  hope  to  see  you 
and  talk  the  matter  over  fully  between  then  and  the  16th,  I 
will  do  little  more  now  than  thank  you. 

So  far  as  I  can  judge  from  the  newspapers,  the  chances  of 
avoiding  war  increase.  It  seems  to  me  Lincoln's  policy  is 
shaping  itself  into  first  attempting,  by  refraining  from  hostile 
measures,  by  keeping'Jthe  door  for  return  open  on  the  one 
hand,  and  by  making  their  exclusion  on  the  other  as  un- 
comfortable as  possible,  to  get  the  seceding  States  back  ;  and 
secondly,  should  this  turn  out  to  be  impossible,  to  let  them  go 
peaceably,  straining  every  nerve  to  keep  the  Border  States. 
My  great  fear  still  is,  lest  the  Eepublicans  should,  in  order  to 
keep  the  Border  States,  compromise  principle ;  but  as  yet  they 
have  stood  as  firm  as  one  can  reasonably  expect. 

You  must  excuse  my  saying  that  I  do  not  agree  with  you 
that  supposing  the  Union  patched  up  again,  or  the  Border 
Slave  States  left  with  the  North,  you  will  even  then  get 
rid  of  the  negro  question.  So  long  as  the  Free  States  re- 
main in  union  with  Slave  States,  that  question  will  every  day 
press  more  and  more  urgently  for  solution.  Such  union  will 
be  impossible  without  a  Fugitive  Slave  law,  and  any  Fugitive 
Slave  law  will  become  every  day  more  and  more  impossible 
to  execute;  and  again,  slave-holding  in  one  State,  with  free- 
dom of  speech  and  pen  in  the  next  State,  will  become  more 
and  more  untenable.  I  do  not  doubt,  however,  that  the 
question  will,  in  case  of  the  Border  States  being  left  by 
themselves  with  the  North,  be  solved  by  their  freeing  them- 
selves before  long  from  their  slave  population,  partly  by  sale 
and  partly  by  emancipation.  Did  I  not  think  so,  I  would  wish 
them  to  join  the  South. 


18G1.]         W.  E.   FORSTER  OX  THE  CRISIS  IN   AMERICA.         367 

As  it  is,  however,  unless  the  North  degrades  and  enslaves 
itself  by  concession  of  principle,  the  cause  of  freedom  must 
gain  by  present  events,  either  in  case  of  the  cotton  States  re- 
turning, as  they  would  have  to  do  on  Northern  terms,  or  in 
case  of  their  going  on  by  themselves,  when  they  will  be  far  less 
powerful  for  harm  than  they  were  while  backed  by  the  whole 
strength  of  the  North.  I  am  therefore  most  anxious  that  our 
Government  should  not,  as  yet,  recognise  the  South,  not  only 
because  I  think  a  premature  recognition  would  be  an  inter- 
ference in  your  affairs,  and  an  interference  most  unjust  and 
unfriendly  to  the  old  Union — our  ally,  but  because  I  think  it 
would  strengthen  the  South,  and  so  either  tend  to  harden  her 
against  concession  to  the  North,  or  give  her  a  fairer  chance,  and 
therefore  more  power  for  evil  in  a  separate  start.  Such  recog- 
nition would  also,  I  fear,  do  harm  by  making  it  less  unlikely 
for  the  seceding  States  to  join  the  South,  I  thought  I 
ought  to  write  this  much  in  order  to  show  you  why  I  feel  so 
interested  in  this  matter ;  but  the  best  mode  of  meeting  the 
debate  in  the  House  must  be  left  for  consideration  nearer  the 
time,  when  I  hope  to  see  you. 

Yours  most  faithfully, 

W.  E.  FORSTER. 


To  Dr.  0.  W.  Holmes. 


31,  Hertford  Street,  Mayfair,  W. 
April  19th,  1861. 

My  dear  Holmes, — I  did  not  wish   to   let  this 

steamer  go  without  thanking  you  for  your  delightful  letter 
of  16th  February.  I  wish  I  had  deserved  such  a  pleasure 
as  it  gave  me,  or  that  at  this  moment  I  had  entitled  myself 
to  just  such  another  at  an  early  day.  I  can  only  promise 
that  I  will  send  another  note  on  the  heels  of  this  one,  and 
thus  give  myself  a  better  chance.  I  only  desire  at  this 
moment  to  tell  you  that  I  have  read  *  Elsie  Venner.'  I  re- 
frained on  purpose  from  reading  it  until  it  was  all  finished, 
and  then  I  gobbled  it  up  at  a  single  meal — so  hungry  was  I 


368  MOTLEY'S  LETTEKS.  [Chap.  XIII. 

for  the  long  deferred  banquet.  I  assure  you  that  I  admire  it 
extremely.  I  was  in  some  anxiety  before  I  began,  because  I 
knew  that  you  had  never  written  a  novel  before,  and  I  felt 
somehow  as  if  you  had  announced  yourself  to  come  out  as 
Hamlet,  or  to  walk  over  Niagara  on  a  tight  rope,  or  to  do,  in 
short,  some  of  those  things  by  which  men  achieve  fame,  but  to 
which  they  are  apt  to  have  apprenticed  themselves  in  their 
tender  epochs.     One  ceases  to  suspect  a  man 

•'  Cujus  octavum  trepidavit  satas 
Claudere  lustrum  " 

of  such  romantic  delinquencies  as  you  have  just  committed — 
with  even  (shall  we  say  it  ?)  an  additional  lustre  or  so  to  those 
which  Horace  confesses.  But  fortunately  your  reputation  has 
gained  infinite  lustre  by  your  crimes.  Then  I  knew  how  hard 
it  was  to  write  a  novel.  Eaud  inexpertus  loquor.  Did  I  not 
have  two  novels  killed  under  me  (as  Balzac  phrases  it)  before 
I  found  that  my  place  was  among  the  sappers  and  miners  and 
not  the  lancers  ?  And  was  it  not  natural,  having  thus  come 
to  grief  in  the  bygone  ages,  that  I  should  feel  solicitous  when 
I  saw  you  setting  off  on  the  same  career  ? 

But  you  have  been  perfectly  successful.  I  assure  you  that  the 
interest  is  undying  throughout  the  book — that  the  characters 
are  sharply  and  vigorously  drawn  and  coloured — that  the 
scenery  is  fresh,  picturesque,  and  poetical,  and  the  dialogue, 
particularly  when  it  is  earnest  and  thoughtful,  is  suggestive, 
imaginative,  and  stimulating  in  the  highest  degree.  As  to  the 
mother-thought  of  the  book,  it  is  to  me  original,  poetical,  and 
striking.  I  knew  that  there  was  no  resemblance  to  '  Christabel '; 
but  I  had  not  read  *  Lamia '  since  college  days.  So  after  finish- 
ing '  Elsie '  I  took  up  Keats  and  read  the  poem,  but  found  no 
resemblance  whatever.  There  is  a  snake,  to  be  sure,  and  so 
there  is  in  'Paradise  Lost,'  and  plenty  in  '  Virginia,'  but  none 
with  a  family  likeness.  I  took  the  deepest  interest  in  Elsie, 
and  was  passionately  in  love  with  her  myself,  and  could  not 
approve  your  excellent  but  somewhat  calm-blooded  Bernard 
C.  Langdon  (I  never  will  forgive  you  that  "  C")  for  not  taking 
the  snake  out  of  her  heart  and  her  to  his  bosom  at  that  last 
most  touching  appeal,  'Love  me.'      I  thought  of   Eachel's 


I8G1.]  'ELSIE  VENNER.'  869 

•  M'aimes  tu  j? '  as  I  saw  her  years  ago  as  Thisbe  in  *  Angelo,' 
which  nobody  but  a  Connecticut  schoolmaster  could  have  re- 
sisted, any  more  than  your  Elsie's  despairing  cry.  Do  not  be 
angry  with  me  if  I  seem  to  underrate  your  hero.  He  has  all 
the  necessary  heroic  New  England  romance,  but  he  is  perhaps 
a  little  too  poison  proof  and  has  too  clear  an  eye  to  the  main 
chance  to  be  much  more  interesting  than  all  his  family  of 
heroes. 

In  truth  I  suspect  it  is  only  when  the  hero  has  a  tragic  ending, 
like  the  Master  of  Ravens  wood,  that  one  cares  very  much  about 
him.  If  the  Master  had  married  the  Lord  Keeper's  daughter, 
and  Sir  William  had  come  down  with  handsome  settlements, 
and  the  Master  had  grown  opulent  and  fat,  and  repaired  his 
residence  of  Wolf's  Crag,  we  should  have  found  his  slouched 
hat  and  black  feathers  less  exciting.  On  the  other  hand,  you 
have  succeeded  in  inspiring  a  true  and  legitimate  interest  in 
the  school-mistress  and  her  energetic  and  gentle  life.  The  pure, 
vaporous  but  still  sufficiently  definite  shape  comes  and  goes 
like  the  true  indigenous  American  angel — flitting  through  all 
the  book,  and  filling  it  with  a  health-giving  atmosphere.  I 
did  not  mean  to  write  a  criticism  on  the  book.  You  have 
enough  of  that  in  the  journals.  But  I  feel  that  you  will  like 
to  hear  me  say  how  cordially  I  appreciate  and  how  thoroughly 
I  have  enjoyed  it,  as  we  do  all.  After  all,  the  sympathy  of  so 
old  and  true  a  friend  as  I  claim  to  be  will  not  be  indifferent  to 
you,  even  though  it  blends  with  the  general  chorus  of  praise 
which  salutes  you  from  all  sides.  The  *  Autocrat '  has  sold  a 
great  deal  here.  Dickens  told  me  he  had  read  it  through  twice 
— with  great  interest  and  admiration.  He  remembers  you  well, 
and  speaks  of  you  as  all  who  know  you  are  prone  to  speak.  He 
promised  to  read  *  Elsie  Venner '  at  once,  and  when  I  next  see 
him  I  will  get  him  to  tell  me  what  he  thinks  of  it.  I  hope  you 
are  not  thinking  hardly  of  me  for  not  elaborately  criticising 
the  book.  It  is  not  from  want  of  sympathy  or  admiration,  but 
from  a  momentary  feeling  of  incompetency.  Besides,  a  letter 
should  not  be  a  newspaper  notice.  I  read  it  through  from 
beginning  to  end  in  a  single  day  and  evening  with  unflagging 
interest,  and  I  read  and  re-read  with  increased  delight  the 

VOL.  I.  2  b 


370  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  XIII. 

choice  passages,  and  I  consider  it  a  most  undeniably  successful 

novel 

I  am  most  sincerely  yours, 

J.  L.  M. 

p.S. — I  wrote  a  note  to  Longfellow,  acknowledging  from 
my  heart  the  cordial  greeting  sent  me  by  the  Saturday  Club. 
I  send  another  response  by  you,  and  pray  give  my  love  to  them 
one  and  all. 


To  the  BuLchess  of  Argyll. 

31,  Hertford  Street,  Mayfair, 
May  16th,  1861. 

My  dear  Duchess  of  Argyll, — I  hope  that  you  will  kindly 
accept  the  accompanying  volumes,  in  memory  of  the  delightful 
days,  during  which  we  had  the  privilege  of  enjoying  your 
hospitality  at  Inveraray. 

You  were  my  first  reader,  or  rather  my  first  and  only  listener, 
for  you  may  recollect  that  you  allowed  me  to  read  a  chapter 
from  the  proof  sheets. 

I  have  just  taken  the  liberty  of  writing  a  hurried  note  to 
the  Duke.  I  do  hope  that  you  will  use  your  influence  to  per- 
suade him  and  the  English  Government  and  all  England,  that 
the  cause  of  the  United  States  Government  is  a  righteous 
cause;  that  we  are  disappointed  and  mortified  at  the  idea 
that  there  should  be  any  party  in  England,  least  of  all  in  the 
Liberal  Government,  who  should  look  coldly  on  the  chance  of 
our  dismemberment,  while  we  are  struggling  with  the  most 
gigantic  rebellion  with  which  a  civilized  commonwealth  was 
ever  called  on  to  grapple.  We  are  but  in  the  beginning  of 
the  conflict.  Of  course,  we  do  not  expect  anything  but 
neutrality;  but  why  we  are  not  as  much  entitled  to  moral 
sympathy  as  Italy  ever  was,  I  cannot  understand. 
With  the  greatest  regard. 

Believe  me,  very  faithfully  yours, 
J.  L.  Motley. 


1801.]  VISIT  TO  AMERICA.  371 


From  Lord  Lyndhurst. 

George  Street, 

June  nth,  1861. 

Dear  Mr.  Motley, — Will  you  do  me  the  favour  to  dine 
here  on  Thursday  the  21st.,  and  meet  a  countryman  of  ours,^ 
at  a  quarter  to  eight  o'clock  ? 

Very  faithfully  yours, 

Lyndhurst. 


To  his  Wife  and  Daughters. 

Woodland  Hill, 

June  Uth,  1861. 

My  dearest  Mary  and  dearest  Darlings, — My  note  from 
Halifax,  with  the  announcement  which  you  must  have  seen  in 
the  papers,  will  have  told  you  enough  of  my  voyage.^  It  was 
a  singularly  favourable  one,  and  we  reached  Boston  Wednesday 
morning  at  8  o'clock.  I  found  my  dear  mother  looking  not 
worse  than  I  had  anticipated,  but  very  feeble.  She  had  had 
an  attack  of  neuralgic  pain  the  day  before,  and  was  not  able 
to  come  out  of  her  room.  She  was,  however,  pretty  well  the 
next  day,  and  is  not  very  much  changed  in  the  face,  although 
she  has  evidently  become  more  infirm. 

My  father  seems  a  good  deal  older,  but  is  very  active  and  in 
vigorous  health.  All  the  various  members  of  the  family  are 
very  well.  I  walked-  out  about  eleven  o'clock,  and  went  first 
to  the  State  House  to  see  Governor  Andrew.  He  received  me 
with  the  greatest  cordiality,  I  may  say  distinction,  and  thanked 
me  very  warmly  for  my  papers  in  the  Times.  I  may  as  well 
mention  once  for  all,  that  not  a  single  person  of  the  numbers 
with  whom  I  have  already  spoken  has  omitted  to  say  the  same 
thing.     You  know  how   enthusiastic   our  people  are  when 

'  Lord    Lyndlmrst    was     born     in  ing  to  follow  him.    His  appointment 

America  in  1772,  an  English  subject.  to  the  post  of  U.S.  Minister  to  Austria, 

'  Mr.  Motley's  anxiety  in  this  crisis  which  became  vacant  after  his  return* 

of  American  affairs  led  to  a  sudden  changed  the  plan, 
visit  to  Boston,  his  family  then  expect- 

2  B  2 


372  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  XIIJ. 

pleased,  and  you  can  therefore  imagine  the  earnest  and  per- 
haps somewhat  exaggerated  commendations  which  I  receive.^ 

The  paper  was  at  once  copied  bodily  into  the  Boston  and 
New  York  papers,  with  expressions  of  approbation,  and  I  make 
a  point  of  stating  this  to  you,  both  because  I  was  myself  sur- 
prised at  the  deep  impression  which  the  article  seems  to  have 
made  here,  and  in  order  that  you  may  let  any  of  our  English 
friends  who  are  interested,  know  that  the  position  taken  in 
the  article  is  precisely  that  which  is  recognised  by  all  men 
throughout  the  Free  States  as  the  impregnable  one  in  this 
momentous  conflict. 

The  reason  why  I  am  saying  so  much  about  it  now,  is  simply 
because  it  is  the  text,  as  it  were,  to  all  I  have  or  probably  shall 
have  to  say  on  the  subject  of  American  politics  in  my  letter  to- 
you.  Any  one  who  supposes  that  this  civil  war  is  caused  by 
anything  else  than  by  an  outrageous  and  unprovoked  insur- 
rection against  a  constituted  government,  because  that  govern- 
ment had  manifested  its  unequivocal  intention  to  circumscribe 
slavery,  and  prevent  for  ever  its  further  extension  on  this  con- 
tinent, is  incapable  of  discussing  the  question  at  all,  and  is  not 
worth  listening  to.  Therefore  it  is  (and  with  deep  regret  I 
say  it),  that  there  is  so  deep  and  intense  a  feeling  of  bitterness- 
and  resentment  towards  England  just  now  in  Boston.  Of 
course  I  only  speak  of  Boston,  because  having  been  here  but 
two  days,  I  have  as  yet  taken  no  wider  views,  and  I  intend,, 
when  I  write,  to  speak  only  of  that  "  which  I  do  know."  The 
most  warm-hearted,  England-loving  men  in  this  England-loving 
part  of  the  country  are  full  of  sorrow  at  the  attitude  taken 
up  by  England.  It  would  be  difficult  to  exaggerate  th& 
poisonous  effects  produced  by  the  long-continued,  stinging^ 
hostile  articles  in  the  Times.  The  declaration  of  Lord  John 
Eussell,  that  the  Southern  privateers  were  to  be  considered 
belligerents,  was  received,  as  I  knew  and  said  it  would  be,  with 
great  indignation.     Especially  the  precedent  cited  of  Greece 

'  At  the  beginning  of  the  Civil  War,  struggle.     There  was  so  much  misun- 

Mr.  Motley  wrote  an  elaborate  letter  to  derstanding  upon  the  subject  that  the 

the  London  Times,  explaining  clearly  letter  was  of  the  greatest  service.     It 

and  comprehensively  the  nature  of  the  was  republished  in  the  United  States, 

union  and  the   actual  causes  of  the  and  universally  read  and  approved. 


1861.]  A   WAR  OF  PRINCIPLE.  373 

struggling  against  Turkey,  to  justify,  as  it  were,  before  England 
and  the  world,  tlie  South  struggling  against  the  United  States 
Government.  This  then  is  the  value,  men  say  to  me  every 
moment,  of  the  anti-slavery  sentiment  of  England,  of  which  she 
has  boasted  so  much  to  mankind.  This  is  the  end  of  all  the 
taunts  and  reproaches  which  she  has  flung  at  the  United  States 
Oovernment — for  being  perpetually  controlled  by  the  slavery 
power,  and  for  allowing  its  policy  to  be  constantly  directed 
towards  extending  that  institution. 

Now  that  we  have  overthrown  that  party,  and  now  that  we 
■are  struggling  to  maintain  our  national  existence,  and  with 
it,  liberty,  law,  and  civilization,  against  the  insurrection 
which  that  overthrow  has  excited,  we  are  treated  to  ^the  cold 
shoulder  of  the  mother  country,  quite  as  decidedly  as  if  she 
had  never  had  an  opinion  or  a  sentiment  on  the  subject  of 
slavery,  and  as  if  the  greatest  war  of  principle  which  has 
been  waged  in  this  generation  at  least  was  of  no  more  in- 
terest to  her,  except  as  it  bore  on  the  cotton  question,  than 
the  wretched  squabbles  of  Mexico  or  South  America.  The 
ignorance,  assumed  or  actual,  of  the  nature  of  our  constitu- 
tion, and  the  coolness  with  which  public  speakers  and  writers 
have  talked  about  the  Southern  States  and  the  Northern 
States,  as  if  all  were  equally  wrong,  or  equally  right,  and  as 
if  there  had  never  been  such  a  State  in  existence  as  the  one 
which  the  Queen  on  her  throne  not  long  ago  designated  as  the 
*'  great  llepublic,"  has  been  the  source  of  surprise,  disappoint- 
anent,  and  mortification  to  all.  Men  say  to  me.  We  did  not 
wish  England  to  lift  a  little  finger  to  help  us — we  are  not 
Austria  calling  in  Eussia  to  put  down  our  insurrections  for  us 
— but  we  have  looked  in  vain  for  any  noble  words  of  en- 
couragement and  sympathy.  We  thought  that  some  voice, 
even  of  men  in  office,  or  of  men  in  opposition,  might  have  been 
heard  to  say,  We  are  sorry  for  you,  you  are  passing  through  a 
terrible  ordeal,  but  we  feel  that  you  are  risking  your  fortunes 
and  your  lives  for  a  noble  cause,  that  the  conflict  has  been 
forced  upon  you,  that  you  could  not  recede  without  becoming 
a  by-word  of  scorn  among  the  nations ;  our  hands  are  tied — 
we  must  be  neutral  in  action — you  must  fight  the  fight  your- 


374  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  XIII. 

self,  and  you  would  be  ashamed  to  accept  assistance  ;  but  our 
hearts  are  with  you,  and  God  defend  the  right.  But  of  all  this 
there  is  not  a  word. 

....  Now  it  is  superfluous  for  me  to  say  to  you  that  I  am 
not  expressing  my  own  opinions  in  what  I  am  writing.  In 
my  character  of  your  own  correspondent,  I  am  chronicling 
accurately  my  first  impressions  on  arriving  here.  You  see 
that  the  language  I  hear  does  not  vary  so  much  in  character 
as  in  intensity  from  that  which  I  have  used  myself  on  all 
occasions  in  England  to  our  friends  there.  But  the  intensity 
makes  a  great  difference,  and  I  am  doing  my  best,  making 
use  of  whatever  influence  and  whatever  eloquence  I  possess, 
to  combat  this  irritation  towards  England,  and  to  bring  about, 
if  I  can,  a  restoration  of  the  old  kindliness. 

You  cannot  suppose  that  I  am  yet  in  condition  to  give  you 
much  information  as  to  facts.  One  thing,  however,  is  certain, 
there  is  no  difference  of  opinion  here.  There  is  no  such  thing 
as  party.  Nobody  asks  or  cares  whether  his  neighbour  was  a 
republican,  or  democrat,  or  abolitionist.  There  is  no  very  great 
excitement  now — simply  because  it  is  considered  a  settled 
thing  which  it  has  entered  into  no  man's  head  to  doubt,  that 
this  great  rebellion  is  to  be  put  down,  whatever  may  be  the 
cost  of  life  and  treasure  it  may  entail.  We  do  not  know  what 
General  Scott's  plan  is,  but  every  one  has  implicit  confidence 
in  his  capacity,  and  it  is  known  that  he  has  matured  a  scheme 
on  a  most  extensive  scale.  There  are  now  in  Washington  and 
Maryland,  or  within  twelve  hours'  march  of  them,  about  80,000 
Union  troops.  There  are,  including  these,  240,000  enrolled  and 
drilling  and  soon  to  be  ready.  The  idea  seems  to  be,  that  a 
firm  grasp  will  be  kept  upon  Maryland,  Washington,  Western 
Yirginia — and  that  Harper's  Ferry,  Kichmond,  and  Norfolk, 
will  be  captured  this  summer — that  after  the  frosts  of  October, 
vast  columns  of  men  will  be  sent  down  the  Mississippi,  and 
along  it,  co-operating  with  others  to  be  sent  by  sea ;  that  New 
Orleans  will  be  occupied,  and  that  thus  with  all  the  ports 
blockaded,  and  a  "  cordon  "  of  men  hemming  them  in  along 
the  border  of  tke  middle  States,  the  rebellion  will  be  suffocated 
with  the  least  possible  effusion  of  blood.     Of  course  there  will 


1861.]  WARLIKE  PREPARATIONS.  375 

be  terrible  fighting  in  Virginia  this  summer,  and  t  am  by  no 
means  confident  that  we  shall  not  sustain  reverses  at  first,  for 
the  rebels  have  had  longer  time  to  prepare  than  we,  and  they 
are  desperate.  General  Scott  promises  to  finish  the  war 
triumphantly  before  the  second  frost,  unless  England  interferes. 
This  was  his  language  to  the  man  who  told  me. 

You  see  that  it  was  no  nightmare  of  mine,  this  possibility  of 
a  war  with  England.  General  Scott  loves  and  admires  Eng- 
land, but  there  is  a  feeling  in  Washington,  that  she  intends 
to  recognise  the  Southern  Confederacy.  This  would  be  con- 
sidered by  our  Government,  iinder  the  present  circumstances, 
as  a  declaration  of  war — and  war  we  should  have,  even  if  it 
brought  disaster  and  destruction  upon  us.  But  I  have  little 
fear  of  such  a  result.  I  tell  every  one  what  is  my  profound  con- 
viction, that  England  will  never  recognise  the  "  Confederacy  " 
until  the  de  facto  question  is  placed  beyond  all  doubt,  and 
until  her  recognition  is  a  matter  of  absolute  necessity.  I 
have  much  reliance  on  Forster.  I  know  that  his  speech  will 
do  infinite  good,  and  I  doubt  not  that  Buxton  will  be  warm 
and  zealous.  I  hope  that  Milnes  and  Stirling  will  keep  their 
promise ;  but  what  nonsense  it  is  for  me  to  tell  of  what  you 
know  already,  and  what  I  shall  know  in  a  few  days. 

Yesterday  afternoon  I  came  out  here  to  stop  for  a  couple  of 
nights.  My  first  object  was  to  visit  Camp  Andrew.  This  is 
the  old  Brook  farm,  the  scene  of  Hawthorne's  'Blithedale 
Romance,'  and  his  original  and  subtle  genius  might,  I  should 
think,  devise  a  new  romance  out  of  the  wonderful  transforma- 
tion effected  now  in  that  locality. 

Five  regiments,  in  capital  condition,  have  already  gone 
from  Massachusetts  to  the  seat  of  war — being,  as  you  know, 
the  very  first  to  respond  to  the  President's  summons.  We 
have  more  enlisted  for  the  war,  which  are  nearly  ready  to 
move,  and  will  have  their  marching  orders  within  a  fortnight. 
Of  these,  the  crack  one  is  Gordon's  regiment — the  3Iassa- 
chusetts  Second.  Lawrence  Motley  is  one  of-  the  first  lieu- 
tenants in  this  corps,  and  you  would  be  as  pleased  as  I  was,  to 
see  what  a  handsome,  soldierly  fellow  he  is.  And  there  is  no 
boy's  play  before  his  regiment,  for  it  is  the  favourite  one. 


376  MOTLEY'S  LETTEES.  [Chap.  XIII. 

All  the  officers  are  of  the  jeunesse  doree  of  Boston — Wilder 
Dwight,  young  Quincy,  Harry  Eussell,  Bob  Shaw,  Harry 
Higginson,  of  Dresden  memory,  and  others  whose  names  would 
be  familiar  to  you,  are  there,  and  their  souls  are  in  their  work. 
No  one  doubts  that  the  cause  is  a  noble  and  a  holy  one ;  and 
it  is  certainly  my  deliberate  opinion  that  there  was  never  a 
war  more  justifiable  and  more  inevitable  in  history. 

We  went  to  the  camp  to  see  the  parade.  To  my  unsophisti- 
cated eye  there  was  little  difference  between  these  young 
volunteers  and  regular  soldiers.  But  of  course,  my  opinion  is 
of  little  worth  in  such  matters.  I  had  a  good  deal  of  talk 
with  Colonel  Gordon.  He  is  about  thirty,  I  should  think. 
He  graduated  first  in  his  class  at  West  Point — served  through 
the  Mexican  War,  and  is,  I  should  think,  an  excellent  soldier. 
He  is  very  handsome,  very  calm  and  gentle  in  manner,  with  a 
determined  eye.  You  will  watch,  after  this,  with  especial 
interest  the  career  of  the  Massachusetts  Second. 

....  Gordon's  regiment  will,  it  is  hoped,  be  taken  into  the 
permanent  service,  after  the  war,  as  the  regular  army  must 
always  be  on  a  much  larger  scale  than  before.  In  that  case, 
these  officers  will  have  a  profession,  which  has  been  one  of 
the  great  wants  for  young  men  of  rich  families  in  our  part  of 
the  country. 

I  am  now  going  into  town,  when  I  shall  post  this  letter,  and 
order  your  Boston  newspaper.  No  event  has  taken  place  of 
any  very  great  moment,  since  I  left  you.  General  Scott,  I 
am  very  glad  to  say,  is  in  no  hurry.  He  is  too  old  a  campaigner 
and  strategist  to  wish  to  go  unprepared  into  petty  conflicts  to 
furnish  food  for  telegrams.  The  thing  is  to  be  done  on  a 
great  scale.  There  is  no  thought  of  peace,  and  there  is  a 
settled  conviction  in  the  minds  of  the  most  pacific  by  nature, 
that,  even  had  the  United  States  Government  been  base  enough 
to  acknowledge  the  Southern  Confederacy,  it  would  necessarily 
have  been  involved^in  war  with  it.  There  are  at  least  half  a 
dozen  casus  helli,  which,  as  between  two  belligerent  nations, 
could  only  be  settled  by  the  sword,  unless  the  North  chose  to 
go  on  its  knees,  and  accept  the  dictation  of  the  South.  There 
is  no  need  of  saying  more.     The  Mississippi  alone  speaks  war 


\ 


1861.]  AT  WASHINGTON.  377 

out  of  its  many  mouths.  The  Union  hardly  intended,  when  it 
bought  Louisiana  and  the  Mississippi  valley,  in  order  to  take 
it  from  the  control  of  one  enemy,  to  make  a  present  of  it  to 
another  and  more  bitter  foe. 

The  girls  here  are  all  pretty  and  nice.     N sings  very 

well,  with  a  fine,  fresh,  ringing  voice,  and  gave  me  *  The  Star- 
spangled  Banner  '  last  night,  with  great  spirit. 

God  bless  you  all,  dearest  ones.  I  will  write  from  Wash- 
ington. Ever  most  aflfectionately, 

J.  L.  M. 

I  shall  go  to  see  Mrs.  Greene  ^  to-day,  who  is  in  town  and 
in  good  health.  It  was  impossible  for  me  to  do  so  yesterday, 
as  I  was  detained  by  many  visitors.  Amory  came  almost  the 
first.     He  is  delightful  as  ever,  and  sends  his  love  to  you. 


To  his  Wife. 

Washingtou, 

June  nth,  1861. 

My  dear  Mary, —  ....  After  being  at  home  three  days, 
I  left  by  the  afternoon  boat  of  Saturday,  15th,  for  New  York, 
where  I  was  obliged  to  remain  all  Sunday  till  6  p.m.  I  did 
not  find  Mr.  Grinnell,  unluckily,  who  is  out  of  town  for  the 
summer.  In  the  night  I  came  on  to  Washington,  reaching 
here  at  six  this  morning.  I  went  up  to  the  State  Department 
in  the  forenoon,  and  had  the  merest  moment  of  a  conversation 
with  Mr.  Seward,  who  begged  me  to  come  and  dine  with  him 
to-day  at  seven,  and  requested,  as  it  was  ^^his  despatch  day,  to 
defer  all  further  colloquy  until  then.  I  had  afterwards  a  very 
brief  interview  with  the  Secretary  of  War,  Cameron,  to  whom 
Governor  Andrew  begged  me  to  give  some  information  con- 
cerning Cobb's  battery  of  flying  artillery,  which  is  of  moro 
interest  to  the  War  Department  than  to  you,  so  I. will  not 
enlarge  on  that  subject.  I  also  introduced  Tom,  who  had 
something  to  communicate  concerning  Gordon's  regiment; 
>  Sister  to  Lord  Lyndhurst. 


378  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  XIII. 

and  the  Secretary  took  occasion  to  say  that  Massachusetts — 
and,  indeed,  all  New  England — did  everything  so  well  that 
improvement  seemed  impossible,  and  that  the  country  was 
more  indebted  to  it  than  could  ever  be  repaid  for  its  conduct 
in  the  present  crisis. 

Afterwards  I  saw  a  small  crowd  waiting  on  the  pavement, 
and  Lee,  who  was  with  us  (and  who,  as  you  know,  has  a  place 
in  the  War  Department),  told  me  that  they  were  waiting  to 
see  General  Scott  come  out  of  his  office.  It  reminded  me 
of  the  group  I  so  often  saw  in  Piccadilly  waiting  to  see  Lord 
Palmerston  come  out.  We  stood  looking  on,  too,  and  very 
soon  he  appeared.  He  has  a  fine  soldierly,  and  yet  benignant 
countenance,  very  much  resembling  Dr.  Eeynolds  in  face  as 
well  as  stature,  and  not  seeming  much  older  than  he.  Pre- 
sently Lee,  who  knows  him  very  well,  went  up  and  mentioned 
my  name.  He  turned  round  with  much  vivacity,  with  his 
hand  stretched  out  very  cordially,  and  expressed  himself  very 
happy  to  make  my  acquaintance,  being  pleased  to  add  that 
my  writings  "  were  an  honour  to  the  age."  Of  course,  I  say 
these  little  things  to  you  because  it  will  please  you  and  the 
children.  He  asked  us  to  come  and  see  him  of  an  evening, 
and  I  certainly  shall  do  so  as  soon  as  possible. 

No  one  here  knows  what  the  plans  of  the  campaign  are — 
all  is  conjecture.  You  will  see  by  the  papers  that  go  with 
this  that  Harper's  Ferry  has  just  been  evacuated  by  the  rebels. 
Those  with  whom  I  converse  seem  to  imagine  that  the  plan 
is  to  strengthen  and  improve  day  by  day  the  great  national 
army  gradually  surrounding  the  rebellion  by  an  impenetrable 
"  cordon,"  and  thus  compelling  them,  by  sheer  exhaustion,  to 
lay  down  their  arms  before  the  close  of  a  year.  The  blockade, 
bankruptcy,  and  famine,  it  is  thought,  will  be  potent  enough 
without  many  very  Revere  pitched  battles.  The  show  of  force 
is  already  so  imposiixg  and  so  utterly  beyond  any  previous 
calculation  of  the  rebels  that  they  are  thought  to  be  rapidly 
demoralizing,  while,  on  the  other  hand,  every  day  strengthens 
the  Government.  There  are  at  least  100,000  well-furnished 
Government  troops  here  and  in  the  immediate  neighbourhood, 
or  within  twelve  hours'  march,  and  they  are  coming  daily. 


1861.]  THE  AKMY  AT  WASHINGTON.  379 

The  Government  has  plenty  of  money,  plenty  of  men,  and  is 
constantly  improving  its  commissariat,  and  arranging  all  the 
details  of  a  great  war.  It  has  entered  into  no  man's  head  that 
the  rebellion  is  not  to  be  put  down.  I  doubt  not  that  the 
English  Government  have  been  fully  informed  upon  this  point 
now,  for  when  I  expressed  this  sentiment  just  now  to  Lord 
Lyons,  he  responded,  "  Certainly  not ;  it  is  only  a  question  of 
time." 

I  went  to  see  him  after  leavincr  Mr.  Seward.  In  fact  Seward 
was  kind  enough  to  send  me  there  in  his  carriage.  I  found 
him  little  changed  from  the  Dresden  days,  except  that  he  has 
grown  stouter.  He  was  very  cordial,  frank  and  friendly,  and 
we  had  a  long  and  full  conversation  on  American  affairs.  He 
was  himself  sure  that  every  thinking  person  in  England  would 
deplore  a  rupture  between  the  two  countries  as  a  calamity  too 
painful  to  contemplate,  and  that  all  his  efforts  would  be  to 
avert  it. 

There  is  a  review  of  8,000  Government  troops  on  the  sacred 
soil  of  Virginia  going  on  just  now.  General  MacDowell 
invited  us  to  go.  My  dinner  engagement  prevents  me,  but 
Tom  has  gone.  The  town  is  full  of  troops.  A  Massachusetts 
regiment  left  Boston  the  day  we  did,  and  a  Michigan  regiment 
arrived  the  same  day.  All  are  enlisted  for  the  war  just  now. 
There  is  no  lack  of  good  officers.  McClellan,  who  commands 
the  Western  Division,  and  is  next  to  Scott,  is  very  competent 
to  command  the  whole  if  anything  should  happen  to  the  vete- 
ran. But  of  that  there  seems  no  fear.  He  looks  vigorous, 
healthful,  and  young.     There  seems  nothing  senile  about  him. 

To-morrow  we  are  going  across  the  Potomac  to  see  the  en- 
campments, the  fortifications,  etc.  Pay  no  heed  to  anything 
you  may  see  from  time  to  time  o:**  intentions  of  the  rebels  to 
attack  Washington.  They  are  as  likely  to  attack  Boston.  Tho 
thing  I  believe  to  be  utterly  out  of  the  question.  Although 
Scott  would  like  nothing  better  than  that  they  should  try 
it  on. 

I  dine  with  Lord  Lyons  to-morrow,  and  I  dare  say  I  shall 
spend  the  rest  of  the  week  here.  I  have  not  quite  decided 
whether  to  go  to  Fortress  Monroe  or  not,  but  probably  shall 


380  MOTLEY'S  LETTEES.  [Chap.  XIII. 

do  so.  Secretary  Cameron  has  given  us  a  pass  recommending 
us  especially  to  tlie  commander  of  troops,  etc.,  etc.  I  may  as 
well  repeat  what  I  said  in  my  last ;  that  here  as  in  Boston 
every  one  to  whom  I  speak  thanks  me  for  the  article  in  the 
Times.  Lord  Lyons  said  it  was  considered  the  principal  docu- 
ment in  the  whole  affair,  and  the  French  Minister  said  the 
same  thing.  Everybody  says  it  has  done  much  good,  and  it 
most  sincerely  rejoices  me  to  hear  it. 

Jv/ne  18th,  Tuesday  morning,  7  a.m. — I  continue  my  letter  for 
a  moment  before  breakfast.  We  are  going  across  the  Potomac 
at  nine — Tom  and  I  and  the  two  Lees.  I  dined  with  Seward 
entirely  en  famille,  no  one  being  present  but  his  son  and  son's 
wife.  .   .  . 

We  had,  among  the  first  acts  of  the  new  anti-slavery  ad- 
ministration, agreed  to  do,  what  we  have  been  so  freely 
reproached  for  not  doing,  when  our  Government  was  controlled 
by  an  administration  of  which  Jefferson  Davis  was  a  member, 
and  we  are  met  on  the  threshold  by  the  declaration  that  his 
invitation  to  pirates  of  all  nations  is  sufficient  to  convert  them 
into  good,  honest  belligerents.^ 

Had  the  English  declaration  been  delayed  a  few  weeks  or 
even  days,  I  do  not  think  it  would  ever  have  been  made,  and 
I  cannot  help  thinking  that  it  was  a  most  unfortunate  mis- 
take. Nevertheless  I  am  much  less  anxious  about  the  rela- 
tions between  our  two  countries  than  I  was.  Nobody  really 
wishes  a  rupture  on  either  side,  and  I  think  that  the  natural 

'  Early  in  the  administration  of  Mr.  only  upon  a  perfectly  equal  footings 
Lincoln,  the  Government  of  the  United  with  all  the  other  parties.  The  Ame- 
States  proposed  to  accede  to  the  four  rican  Government  was  aggrieved  by 
articles  in  regard  to  maritime  warfare  tlie  obstruction  offered  by  Great  Britain 
adopted  at  the  Congress  of  Paris  in  to  its  accession  to  the  four  articles, 
1856.  The  British  Government,  how-  especially  as  Great  Britain  was  at  the 
ever,  wished  to  state  that  by  the  time  secretly  proposing  to  the  Con- 
proposed  convention  for  such  acces-  federate  Government  to  accept  but 
sion  Great  Britain  did  not  mean  to  three  of  them.  The  exequatur  of  the 
undertake  any  engagement  bearing  British  Consul  at  Charleston,  who  had 
upon  the  Civil  \^"ar  in  America.  The  been  the  intermediary  of  the  negotia- 
President  deciding  that  such  a  deela-  tions  of  his  Government  with  the  Con- 
ration  was  inadmissible,  as  the  United  federate  authorities,  was  revoked  by 
States  could  accede   to  the  Articles  the  President. 


18G1.]  NEGOTIATIONS  WITH  ENGLAND.  381 

love  of  justice  and  fair  play  which  characterises  England  will 
cause  regret  at  the  mistake  which  has  been  committed. 
Moreover,  there  can  hardly  be  much  doubt,  despite  the  mis- 
representations of  an  influential  portion  of  the  English  press 
and  of  some  public  men,  that  the  English  nation  will  under- 
stand the  true  position  of  the  American  Government  in  this 
great  crisis. 

We  have  circumscribed  slavery,  and  prevented  for  ever  its 
extension  by  one  square  inch  on  this  continent,  and  at  the 
same  time  we  mean  to  preserve  our  great  republic  one  and 
indivisible.  It  is  impossible  that  so  simple  and  noble  a  posi- 
tion as  this  should  fail  to  awaken  the  earnest  sympathy  of 
nine-tenths  of  the  English  nation.  To  the  question  whether 
the  task  is  beyond  our  strength,  I  can  only  repeat  that 
General  Scott — than  whom  a  better  strategist  or  a  more  lofty- 
minded  and  honourable  man  does  not  exist — believes  that  he 
can  do  it  in  a  year ;  and  so  far  as  I  can  make  out  his  design, 
it  is  by  accumulating  so  much  force  and  by  making  such 
imposing  demonstrations  everywhere,  as  to  convince  the  rebels 
that  their  schemes — already  proved  to  have  been  false  in  all 
their  calculations  founded  on  co-operations  in  the  Free  States — 
have  become  ridiculous.  Thus  without  any  very  great  effusion 
of  blood  perhaps,  the  rebellion  may  be  starved  out  and  broken 
to  pieces.  Mr.  Seward  says  that  the  great  cause  of  the  revolt 
is  the  utter  misapprehension  in  the  Slave  States  of  the  Northern 
character.  It  has  hitherto  been  impossible  to  make  the  sec- 
tions thoroughly  acquainted  with  each  other.  Now  they  will 
be  brought  together  by  the  electric  shock  of  war.  And  they 
will  learn  to  know  each  other  thus,  which  is  better  than  not 
knowing  each  other  at  all — and  so  on.  I  give  you  a  brief  idea 
of  his  schemes  and  hopes. 

He  read  me  a  long  despatch  which  he  is  sending  to-day  to 
the  French  and  English  Governments.  He  did  this  of  course 
confidentially,  and  because,  as  he  was  pleased  to  say,  I  had 
been  fighting  our  battles  so  manfully  in  England,  for  he, 
like  every  one  else,  praised  warmly  my  Times'  letter.  I  sup- 
pose ultimately  this  despatch  will  be  published ;  but  I  have 
only  room  now  to  say  that  I   think   it   unobjectionable  in 


382  MOTLEY'S  LETTEES.  [Chap.  XIII. 

every  waj' — dignified,  reasonable,  and  not  menacing,  although 
very  decided.  I  said  little  in  reply,  and  soon  afterwards  we 
went  to  the  White  House,  in  order  to  fall  upon  Abraham's 
bosom.  I  found  the  President  better-  and  younger-looking 
than  his  pictures.  He  is  very  dark  and  swarthy,  and  gives 
me  the  idea  of  a  very  honest,  confiding,  unsophisticated  man, 
whose  sincerity  of  purpose  cannot  be  doubted.  I  will  say 
more  of  him  in  my  next,  for  I  am  obliged  to  close  sud- 
denly. By  the  way,  let  me  correct  one  statement  in  another 
part  of  my  letter.  Both  the  President  and  Seward  tell  me  that, 
in  Scott's  opinion,  an  attack  by  the  rebels  on  the  lines  before 
Washington  is  not  impossible.  It  would  be  a  desperate  and 
hopeless  venture.  Maryland  has  just  gone  for  the  Union  by 
a  very  large  majority,  electing  all  members  of  Congress. 
Good-bye.     God  bless  you  and  my  darlings  ! 

Ever  your  affectionate 

J.  L.  M. 


To  his  Wife. 

Washington, 

June  20th,  1861, 

My  dearest  Maey, — I  told  you  that  I  went  with  Seward 
in  the  evening  of  Monday  to  see  the  President.  He  looks 
younger  than  I  expected — less  haggard  than  the  pictures — 
and  on  the  whole,  except  for  his  height,  which  is  two  or 
three  inches  above  six  feet,  would  not  be  remarked  in  any 
way  as  ill-  or  well-looking.  His  conversation  was  common- 
place enough,  and  I  can  hardly  remember  a  single  word  that 
he  said,  except  when  we  were  talking — all  three — about  the 
military  plans  in  progress,  he  observed,  not  meaning  anything 
like  an  epigraia,  "  Scott  will  not  let  us  outsiders  know  any- 
thing of  his  plans."  He  seemed  sincere  and  honest,  however, 
and  steady,  but  oKcourse  it  is  quite  out  of  the  question  for  me 
to  hazard  an  opinion  on  so  short  an  acquaintance  as  to  his 
moral  or  intellectual  qualities. 

Seward  impresses  mo  as  being  decidedly  a  man  of  intellect, 
but  seems  an  egotist.  .  .  .  There  is  no  doubt  whatever  that 

\ 


1861.]  ENGLAND'S  POLICY.  383 

the  early  impressions  of  the  Foreign  Ministers  here  were  favour- 
able to  the  success  of  the  rebellion,  and  that  these  impressions 
were  conveyed  to  their  Governments.  Mercier,  the  French 
Minister,  was  most  decided  in  his  views  and  his  sympathies, 
while  Lord  Lyons,  calm  and  quiet  as  you  know  him  to  be,  as 
well  as  sagacious  and  right-minded,  had  also  little  doubt,  I 
suspect,  six  or  seven  weeks  ago  that  the  secession  or  revolution 
was  an  accomplished  fact.  Hence  the  anxiety  of  their  Govern- 
ments to  be  on  good  terms  with  the  rebels,  particularly  after 
the  astounding  misrepresentations  of  the  Southern  commis- 
sioners. It  amuses  Americans  very  much  when  I  tell  them 
that  the  recognition  of  Mr.  Adams  was  remonstrated  against 
by  those  individuals. 

I  dined  with  Lord  Lyons  yesterday,  and  M.  Mercier  was 
there.  Of  course  we  spoke  of  little  else  but  American  affairs. 
There  is  no  need  of  quoting  the  conversation,  but  it  is  suffi- 
cient to  say  that  little  doubt  seems  now  to  exist  in  the  minds 
of  either  that  the  United  States  Government  is  sure  to  put 
down  this  rebellion  and  remain  a  great  power — greater  than 
ever  before. 

The  encouragement  which  the  rebels  have  derived  from  their 
premature  recognition  which  they  have  received  as  belligerents, 
and  still  more  by  the  exclusion  of  our  ships  of  war  as  well  as 
their  pirates  from  the  English  ports  all  over  the  world  for  the 
purpose  of  bringing  in  prizes,  while  on  the  contrary  France 
does  not  exclude  our  ships  of  war,  but  only  privateers,  has 
already  given  the  rebellion  a  new  lease  of  life.  Still  more  per- 
nicious is  the  hope  which  is  now  entertained  by  the  rebels,  that 
so  soon  as  the  new  cotton  crop  is  ready  to  come  forward — say 
in  October — England  will  break  up  our  blockade,  and  of  course 
become  instantly  involved  in  wa"  with  us.  I  refuse  to  contem- 
plate such  a  possibility.  It  would  be  madness  on  the  part  of 
England,  for  at  the  very  moment  when  it  would  ally  itself 
with  the  South  against  the  United  States,  for  the  sake  of  sup- 
plying the  English  manufacturers  with  their  cotton,  there  would 
he  a  cry  of  twenty  millions  as  from  one  mouth  for  tlie  instant 
emancipation  of  all  the  slaves. 

Nothing  could  resist  that  cry.    The  sentiment  of  the  Free 


384  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  XIII. 

States  would  be  more  overwhelming  even  than  its  manifestation 
so  lately,  which  has  surprised  the  world  by  the  rising  as  it 
were  out  of  the  earth  in  the  brief  space  of  six  weeks,  of  a  well 
equipped  and  disciplined  army  of  250,000  men.  The  alliance 
of  England  with  the  South  for  the  sake  of  re-opening  the 
cotton  ports  would  have  for  its  instant  result  the  total  destruc- 
tion of  the  cotton  interest.  An  invading  army  at  half  a  dozen 
different  ports  would  proclaim  the  instant  abolition  of  slavery. 

There  is  not  the  slightest  exaggeration  in  this.  No  logic 
can  be  more  inexorable,  and  the  opinion  is  avowed  on  all 
sides. 

To  break  our  blockade  for  the  sake  of  getting  cotton  for 
Manchester,  would  lead  to  the  total  extermination  of  the  cotton 
crop  for  many  a  long  year.  No  English  statesman  can  be 
blind  to  this,  and  therefore  I  do  not  fear  any  interference  on 
the  part  of  England.  The  South,  however,  does  expect  such 
interference,  and  will  in  consequence  prolong  its  struggle  a 
little. 

I  passed  the  whole  of  the  day  before  yesterday  on  the  other 
side  of  the  Potomac — the  "  sacred  soil  of  Virginia."  We  hired 
a  carriage  and  took  it  on  board  a  small  steamer  plying  to 
Alexandria.  The  sail  for  about  half  a  dozen  miles  along  the 
broad,  magnificent  Potomac,  under  a  cloudless  sky,  but  pro- 
tected by  an  awning,  was  very  pleasant.  The  heat  is  not  exces- 
sive yet,  and  there  is  usually  a  good  air  stirring.  The  expanse 
of  hill  and  dale  and  the  wooded  heights  which  surround  the 
margin  of  the  beautiful  river  make  a  delightful  passage  of 
scenery.  Alexandria,  but  lately  a  bustling  tobacco  port,  is 
now  like  a  city  of  the  dead  so  far  as  anything  like  traffic  is 
concerned.  It  is  the  head- quarters  of  General  McDowell,  an 
experienced  army  officer,  who  commands  all  the  Union  troops 
(some  25,000)  in  this  part  of  Virginia. 

We  went  to  the  Marshall  House,  the  principal  hotel  of  the 
place,  where,  as  I  suppose  you  read  in  the  papers.  Colonel 
Ellsworth  of  the  New  York  Zouaves  was  killed.  He  had  gone 
in  person  to  the  top  of  the  house  to  cut  down  a  Secession  flag, 
and  was  coming  down  the  stairs  with  it,  when  he  was  shot  by 
the  master  of  the  house,  one  Jackson,  who  in  his  turn  was 


1861.]  MASSING  OF  TROOPS.  385 

instantly  despatched  by  a  private  in  the  regiment,  Ellsworth 
is  much  regretted  as  a  young  officer  of  great  courage  and  irre- 
proachable character. 

By  the  way,  you  should  read  in  the  Atlantic  for  June  and 
July  a  very  spirited  account  of  the  march  of  the  New  York  7tli 
to  Washington.  It  was  written  by  Major  Winthrop  of  New 
York,  who  was  killed  the  other  day  in  that  unlucky  and 
blundering  affair  of  General  Pierce  at  Great  Bethel.  These 
outpost  skirmishes  are  of  little  consequence  to  their  ultimate 
results,  but  they  serve  to  encourage  the  enemy  a  little.  On 
the  other  hand,  they  read  a  useful  lesson  to  Government  upon 
the  folly  of  appointing  militia  officers  to  high  command  when 
there  is  no  lack  of  able  and  experienced  army  officers.  Of 
these  there  are  plenty,  and  no  idea  is  more  ridiculous  than 
that  the  South  has  got  all  the  officers  and  all  the  military 
material.  The  bone  and  sinew  of  the  Free  States  are  probably 
the  best  raw  material  for  troops  in  the  world.  General  Scott 
told  me  last  night  that  the  Massachusetts  volunteers  in  a  few 
months  would  be  equal  to  the  best  regulars.  To  an  unsophisti- 
cated eye  they  are  nearly  so  already. 

A  regiment  marched  into  Washington  yesterday  morning — 
the  Massachusetts  1st — and  with  their  steady  march,  stout 
frames,  good  equipments,  and  long  train  of  baggage  waggons, 
drawn  by  admirable  teams  of  horses,  following  them,  they 
looked  very  business-like,  I  assure  you.  And  this  regiment  is 
but  a  tenth  part  of  the  men  whom  Massachusetts  has  already 
contributed.  As  for  New  York,  I  am  afraid  to  say  how  many 
are  already  here,  and  they  are  wonderfully  well-drilled — at 
least  20,000 — and  they  can  send  on  as  many  more  as  can  pos- 
sibly be  required.  The  contention  now  among  the  States  is  to 
get  the  largest  proportion  of  their  regiments  accepted.  The 
manner  in  which  these  great  armies  have  been  so  suddenly  im- 
provised is  astounding  to  foreigners.  "  G'est  le  pays  des  impro- 
visations," said  Mr.  Mercier  to  me  yesterday.  From  Alex- 
andria we  went  on  to  Shuter's  Hill,  one  of  the  heights 
commanding  Washington,  where,  under  guidance  of  Colonel 
Wright,  the  engineer  who  built  the  works,  we  examined  the 
very  considerable  fortifications  which  have  been  erected  here. 

VOL.  I.  2  G 


386  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  XIIL 

It  is  very  interesting  to  see  the  volunteers  working  with 
pick  and  spade  under  the  broiling  sun  of  Virginia,  without 
complaint  or  inconvenience.  They  are  men  who  have  never 
doubted  that  labour  was  honourable. 

We  afterwards  went  to  Arlington  House,  formerly  the  seat 
of  Washington  Custis,  and  now  the  property  of  General  Lee. 
He  is  an  excellent  officer,  and  was,  before  his  defection,  a 
favourite  of  General  Scott.  The  place  has  great  natural 
beauties  of  hill  and  dale,  lawn  and  forest,  and  commands  a 
magnificent  view  of  Washington  and  the  whole  valley  of  the 
Potomac ;  but  the  house  is  mean.  It  is  now  the  head-quarters 
of  General  McDowell  (I  was  wrong  in  saying  further  back  that 
these  were  at  Alexandria).  Colonel  Heintzelmann  commands 
there,  and  there  are  some  New  York  regiments  encamped  in 
the  grounds.  I  observed  one  alley  through  the  tents  had  been 
christened  Fifth  Avenue.  The  property  is  thoroughly  re- 
spected, and  the  soldiers  have  even  amused  their  leisure  in 
planting  little  gardens  about  their  tents  instead  of  destroying 
or  defacing  anything. 

Thus  we  passed  the  day  in  going  about  the  lines  from  one 
point  to  another,  receiving  explanations  of  everything  from 
most  intelligent  officers — generally  of  the  regular  army.  The 
works  at  the  Tete  du  Pont,  to  defend  the  mile-long  bridge  which 
crosses  the  Potomac  from  the  Virginia  side  to  Washington, 
are  very  thorough,  and  the  attempt  upon  Washington,  if  made, 
must,  I  think,  result  in  a  total  defeat.  I  passed  an  hour  with 
General  Scott  last  night  at  his  house  in  Washington.  He  tells 
me  still  that  he  expects  an  attack  daily  along  the  whole  line, 
says  that  the  rebels  are  perhaps  in  greater  number  than  those 
which  he  has  in  the  immediate  neighbourhood,  but  that  his  are 
much  better  troops.  I  could  not  make  out  .that  he  had  any 
reasons  to  expect  an  attack,  except  upon  the  logical  ground 
that  they  must  do  it,  or  come  to  grief  by  remaining  inactive. 
They  are  poorly  provisioned,  impatient,  and  in  danger  of  dis- 
banding. Meantime,  Scott  has  secured  Harper's  Ferry,  a  most 
important  strategical  position,  without  striking  a  blow.  They 
were  forced  to  evacuate  the  place  to  escape  being  surrounded. 
"  Beste  a  savoir  "  how  it  will  be  at  Manassas  Junction.     The 


1861.]  THE  PURPOSE  OP  THE  WAR.  387 

General  pleases  me  exceedingly.  He  is  in  manner  quiet,  but 
hale,  vigorous,  and  full  of  energy,  and  has  no  doubt  whatever  of 
bringing  the  whole  matter  to  a  happy  issue  within  a  reasonable 
time.  But  the  things  which  annoy  him  most  are  the  lying 
telegrams  of  the  newspapers  and  the  'general  impatience  of 
outsiders.  I  spent  an  hour  and  a  half  with  Seward  last  even- 
ing, and  afterwards  called  at  the  White  House  on  Mrs.  Lincoln. 
She  is  rather  nice-looking,  youngish,  with  very  round  white 
arms,  well  dressed,  chatty  enough,  and  if  she  would  not,  like 
all  the  South  and  West,  say  "  Sir  "  to  you  every  instant,  as  if 
you  were  a  royal  personage,  she  would  be  quite  agreeable. 

Woodland  Hill, 

June  23rd,  1861. 

I  continue  my  letter  interrupted  at  Washington.  Thursday 
evening  I  passed  with  Mr.  Chase,  the  Secretary  of  the  Treasury, 
the  hardest  worked  man,  except  Mr.  Cameron,  just  now  in 
Washington.  He  is  a  tall,  well-made,  robust  man,  with  hand- 
some features,  fine  blue  eye,  and  a  ready  and  agreeable  smile 
— altogether  "  simpatico"  The  conversation,  of  course,  turned 
very  much  upon  our  English  relations,  and  I  told  him  I  would 
stake  my  reputation  on  the  assertion  that  the  English  Govern- 
ment would  never  ally  itself  with  the  Southern  Confederacy, 
or  go  any  further  in  the  course  already  taken  towards  its 
recognition.  I  said  that  I  had  been  over  and  over  again 
assured,  by  those  in  whom  I  had  entire  confidence,  that  the 
sympathy  of  the  English  nation  was  with  the  American  cause, 
but  that  it  was  exceedingly  difficult  to  make  the  English 
understand  that  which  to  us  was  so  self-evident  a  proposition, 
that  we  meant  two  things — first,  to  put  an  end  for  ever  to 
slavery  extension  and  the  nationalisation  of  slavery ;  secondly, 
to  maintain  the  constitution  and  laws  of  the  Great  Kepublic 
one  and  indivisible ;  that  war  was  not  contemplated  as  possible 
between  the  two  countries,  except  by  a  small  and  mischievous 
faction  in  England. 

Mr.  Chase  is  a  frank,  sincere,  warm-hearted  man,  who  has 
always  cordially  detested  slavery  and  loved  the  American 
constitution   as  the  great  charter  of  American  liberty  and 


388  MOTLEY'S  LETTEES,  [Chap.  XIII, 

nationality.  Like  every  man,  public  or  private,  throughout 
the  Free  States,  he  is  convinced  of  the  simple  truth  that  the 
constitutional  union  of  the  whole  people  is  all  which  guaran- 
tees to  each  individual  the  possession  of  his  life  and  property, 
because  it  is  the  basis  of  all  our  laws.  Destroy  this,  and 
anarchy  and  civil  war  are  the  inevitable  results.  He  expressed 
a  most  undoubting  conviction  that  the  rebellion  would  be  put 
down  and  the  Union  restored.  It  was  not  of  much  consequence 
who  was  in  power — who  occupied  this  or  that  office.  The 
people  was  resolved  that  it  would  not  be  disinherited  of  its 
constitution  and  its  national  life,  nor  of  the  right  possessed  by 
every  individual  in  the  country  to  set  his  foot  at  will  on  any 
part  of  the  whole  broad  country  of  the  United  States.  It  was 
as  idle  to  attempt  resistance  to  the  great  elemental  forces  of 
nature  as  to  oppose  this  movement.  The  people  would  put 
down  the  rebellion  without  a  government,  were  it  necessary. 
In  six  weeks  an  army  of  250,000  men  had  been  put  into  the 
field,  armed  and  equipped  for  service.  In  six  months  there 
would  be  half  a  million,  and  as  many  more  as  might  be  neces- 
sary. There  is  nothing  of  the  braggart  about  Mr.  Chase,  nor 
about  the  President,  nor  about  Cameron,  and,  after  all,  the 
Minister  of  Finance  and  the  Secretary  of  War  are  the  men 
who  are  of  necessity  most  alive  to  the  stern  realities  of  the 
crisis.  They  know  that  money,  men,  beef,  bread  and  gun- 
powder in  enormous  amounts  are  necessary  for  suppressing 
this  insurrection,  but  they  have  not  the  slightest  doubt  as  to 
the  issue. 

"  Already  a  great  result  is  secured,"  said  Chase.  The  idea 
even  of  extending  slavery  has  for  ever  vanished  from  men's 
minds.  It  can  never  go  an  inch  further  on  this  continent, 
and,  in  addition,  slavery  as  a  governing  power  (as  it  has 
been  for  forty  years)  is  for  ever  dethroned.  It  can  never  be 
nationalised,  but  must,  so  long  as  it  remains,  be  local,  ex- 
ceptional, municipal  and  subordinate,  restricted  to  the  States 
where  it  at  present  exists,  while  the  policy  of  the  Government 
will  be  the  policy  of  freedom.  The  South  will  be  forced  to 
come  back  into  the  Union,  such  as  it  has  ever  existed  under 
the  Constitution.     This,  he  thinks,  will  be  brought  about  by 


1861.]  COUNTER  REVOLUTION  IN  VIRGINIA.  389 

the  pressure  caused  by  the  blockade,  by  the  sufferings  of  the 
people  thus  imprisoned,  as  it  were,  and  thrown  out  of  employ- 
ment, by  the  steady  pressing  down  upon  them  of  immense 
disciplined  armies,  backed  by  the  boundless  resources  of  a 
fertile  country  and  a  well-organised  commissariat  and  vast 
wealth;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  the  South  cannot  be  in- 
spired by  the  enthusiasm  which  has  often  enabled  a  feebler 
nation  to  resist  triumphantly  a /om<77i  invasion.  The  United 
States  Government  is  no  foreigner.  It  is  at  home  everywhere 
upon  its  own  soil,  from  the  Canada  line  to  the  Gulf  of  Mexico, 
but  conspirators  have  excluded  it  for  a  time  from  its  own 
rights,  its  own  property,  and  the  exercise  of  its  benignant 
functions  over  the  whole  people  of  which  it  is  the  minister 
and  guardian,  appointed  by  the  people  itself.  The  inhabitants 
of  the  Slave  States  must  ere  long  awake  from  the  madman's 
dream  which  has  deprived  them  of  their  reason.  For  the 
leaders,  of  course,  there  is  no  returning. 

There  is  already  a  beginning,  and  a  good  beginning,  on  the 
border.  Maryland,  which  seemed  but  a  few  weeks  ago  so  rabid 
in  the  Secession  cause,  has  just  voted  largely  for  the  Union. 
The  progress  of  the  counter  revolution  in  Virginia  is  steady. 
The  inhabitants  of  Western  Virginia  have  repudiated  the 
action  of  the  State  Convention,  and  are  about  establishing 
a  government  of  their  own — not  as  a  separate  state,  but  as 
claiming  to  he  Virginia,  with  the  intention  of  sending  members 
and  senators  to  Congress,  and  electing  governor  and  legislature. 
This  course  is  supported  by  United  States  troops,  and  will  be 
recognised  by  Congress,  which  has  had  to  deal  with  similar 
cases  before,  and  is  the  sole  judge  according  to  the  Constitution 
as  to  the  claims  of  its  members  to  their  seats.  According  to 
Chase  and  other  Cabinet  Ministers  with  whom  I  have  con- 
versed, this  movement  will  be  triumphant.  Thus  in  the  rebel 
States,  fire  is  fighting  fire,  as  in  a  prairie  conflagration.  The 
same  phenomenon  will  be  manifested  in  Eastern  Tennessee, 
where  there  are  30,000  or  40,000  fighting  men,  who  will  fiercely 
dispute  the  power  of  a  Convention  to  deprive  them  of  their 
rights  as  citizens  of  the  United  States,  and  who  will  maintain 
the  Union  with  arms  in  their  hands  to  the  death.     The  same 


.390  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  XIII. 

will  be  sooner  or  later  the  case  in  North  Carolina,  in  North 
Alabama,  in  Louisiana. 

In  short,  the  whole  white  population  of  the  Seceding 
States  is  five  and  a  half  millions,  against  twenty-two  or 
twenty-three  millions.  Not  another  State  can  secede  by  any 
possibility,  and  within  the  five  and  a  half  million  seceders 
there  are  large  numbers  who  are  fierce  against  the  rebels,  and 
still  larger  numbers  among  the  ignorant  masses,  who  will  be 
soon  inquiring.  What  is  all  this  about?  Why  is  all  this 
bloodshed  and  misery?  And  they  will  be  made  to  under- 
stand, despite  the  lies  of  the  ringleaders  of  the  rebellion,  that 
the  United  States  Government  is  their  best  friend ;  that  not 
one  of  their  rights  has  been  menaced — that  it  wishes  only  to 
maintain /the  constitution  and  laws  under  which  we  have  all 
prospered  for  three-quarters  of  a  century,  and  which  have 
now  been  assaulted,  because  the  people  at  the  ballot-box,  last 
November,  chose  to  elect  Mr.  Lincoln  president,  instead  of 
Mr.  Breckenridge.  This  plunging  into  "  pronunciamiento  " 
and  civil  war,  by  a  party  defeated  at  the  polls,  may  be  very 
good  Mexican  practice,  but  it  will  not  go  down  in  the  United 
States ;  and  ere  long  the  people,  even  at  the  South,  will  make 
this  discovery.  So  thinks  Mr.  Chase,  and  I  think  he  is  right. 
I  am  much  pleased  with  the  directness  and  frankness  of  his 
language.  ''  And  if  all  these  calculations  fail,"  said  he,  "  if  the 
insurrection  is  unreasonably  protracted,  and  we  find  it  much 
more  difiicult  and  expensive  in  blood  and  treasure  to  put  it 
down  than  we  anticipated,  we  shall  then  draw  that  sword  which 
we  prefer  at  present  to  leave  in  the  sheath,  and  ive  shall  pro- 
claim the  total  abolition  of  slavery  on  the  American  continent.  We 
do  not  wish  this,  we  deplore  it,  because  of  the  vast  confiscation 
of  property,  and  of  the  servile  insurrections,  too  horrible 
to  contemplate,  which  would  follow.  We  wish  the  Constitution 
and  Union  as  it  is,  with  slavery,  as  a  municipal  institution, 
existing  till  such  time  as  each  State  in  its  wisdom  thinks  fit  to 
mitigate  or  abolish  it,  but  with  freedom  the  law  of  the  territories 
and  of  the  land ;  but  if  the  issue  be  distinctly  presented — 
death  to  the  American  Kepublic  or  death  to  slavery,  slavery 
must  die.    Therefore,"  said  he,  "  the  great  Kepublic  cannot  be 


1861.]  ENGLAND'S  ATTITUDE.  891 

destroyed.  The  people  will  destroy  slavery,  if  by  no  other 
means  they  can  maintain  their  national  existence."  In  this 
connection  we  came  to  talk  again  of  England  and  its  policy. 
But  it  is  hardly  worth  while  to  repeat  anything  more  to  you 
on  this  subject.  Every  man  with  whom  I  have  conversed 
holds  the  same  language. 

I  battle  stoutly  for  England  and  the  English,  for  no  man 
knows  better  than  I  all  the  noble  qualities  of  that  great 
nation ;  and  how  necessary  it  is  to  our  moral  greatness  and 
true  prosperity  to  cultivate  the  closest  and  warmest  relations 
with  our  ancient  mother.  I  maintain,  and  I  think  have 
partly  convinced  many  minds,  that  England  has  only  acted 
under  a  great  delusion  as  to  the  permanence  of  our  institu- 
tions, for  which  error  we  are  ourselves  somewhat  to  blame ; 
that  the  great  heart  of  the  nation  is  in  sympathy  with  us ; 
that  the  idea  of  going  to  war  with  us,  has  never  entered  the 
minds  of  any  but  a  few  mischief-makers ;  that  the  Times  is  no 
representative  of  English  opinion,  nor  of  the  English  Govern- 
ment. I  would  pledge  myself  for  a  marked  difference  before 
long  in  the  whole  attitude  of  England,  and  that  the  last  thing 
she  contemplated  was  allying  herself  with  the  South  in  a  war 
against  the  United  States  Government.  Already  my  words 
have  been  partly  justified.  Eecent  news  from  England  to  the 
8th  of  June  has  produced  a  good  effect.  Notwithstanding  the 
violence  of  language  which  I  have  described  to  you  (in  order 
that  you  and  such  of  our  dear  English  friends  who  care  to 
read  my  first  impressions  may  hear  and  see  exactly  as  I  have 
seen  and  heard),  I  believe  that  the  hearts  of  this,  the  most 
excitable  and  the  most  warmhearted  people  on  the  earth,  will 
soon  turn  to  England,  if  they  catch  any  warm  manifestations 
of  sympathy  with  our  cause. 

While  I  was  at  Mr.  Chase's,  General  McDowell,  with  one 
of  his  aides,  came  in.  He  is  a  firm,  square,  browned,  powerful- 
looking  soldier,  some  forty  years  of  age,  educated  at  West 
Point,  and  thoroughly  experienced  in  all  the  active  warfare 
which  we  have  had  in  his  time.  He  commands,  as  I  men- 
tioned, all  the  forces  on  the  Virginia  side  of  the  Potomac,  for 
the  defence  of  Washington.    He  told  us  of  an  alarm  the  night 


392  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  XIIL 

before;  that  the  rebels  were  about  attacking  his  lines,  and 
that  they  were  in  force  to  the  number  of  3000  in  the  immediate 
vicinity  of  Alexandria.  He  went  there,  but  the  3000  melted 
to  three,  who  were  taken  prisoners.  Nevertheless,  there  is  no 
doubt  that  there  are  ready  100,000  rebels  under  arms  in  Vir- 
ginia, and  that  they  are  bound  by  every  rule  of  war  to  carry 
out  their  boasts  and  make  the  attack. 

On  the  other  hand  it  is  the  object  of  the  Government  daily 
to  strengthen  itself.  This,  as  I  told  you,  was  the  language  of 
General  Scott  to  me  the  evening  before.  By  the  way,  I  did 
not  tell  you  that  on  that  occasion  we  rather  took  the  General 
by  surprise  (as  I  think  Jefferson  Davis  will  never  do).  The 
servant  ushered  us  at  once  into  his  little  drawing-room.  He 
inhabits  a  small,  modest  house  in — I  forget  what  street — and 
we  found  him,  the  evening  being  very  sultry,  taking  a  nap  in 
his  shirt  sleeves,  with  an  aide-de-camp  at  each  knee,  and  a 
servant  brushing  flies,  at  his  back.  He  started  up,  somewhat 
confused,  and  beat  a  hasty  retreat  to  an  adjoining  room,  whence 
he  emerged,  a  quarter  of  an  hour  later,  arrayed  in  all  the 
splendour  of  an  old  black  bombazine  frock  coat.  But  he  is  a 
magnificent  old  fellow.  He  told  us,  with  a  smile,  that  a 
price  had  been  set  upon  his  head  by  his  native  State  of  Vir- 
ginia, but  he  doubted  whether  it  would  ever  be  earned. 
Nevertheless  his  house  was  only  guarded  by  a  sergeant  and 
ten  men.  The  rest  of  his  conversation  I  have  already  reported 
to  you. 

As  I  told  you  before,  there  is  no  lack  of  good  officers.  The 
great  cause  of  futurt  trouble  may  be  in  neglecting  to  make 
proper  use  of  them,  through  this  detestable  system  of  appoint- 
ing politicians  and  militia  men  to  be  brigadiers  and  major- 
generals.  General  Mansfield,  who  commands  in  Washington, 
seems  to  me  a  first-class  man  in  every  respect,  and  so  do 
McDowell  and  Colonel  Heinzelmann.  McClellan,  who  com- 
mands in  the  West,  is  said  to  be  equal  to  Scott  in  talent, 
and  thirty  years  his  junior;  while  General  Lyon,  a  Connec- 
ticut man  and  a  West  Pointer,  seems  to  be  carrying  all  before 
him  in  Missouri,  and  is  rather  the  favourite  of  the  hour.  I 
do  not  go  quite  into  military  details,  because  you  get  them, 


1861.]  MR.  MONTGOMERY  BLAIR.  393 

true  or  false,  in  the  papers.  I  have  already  ordered  you  the 
Daili/  Advertiser,  and  to-morrow  I  shall  see  that  you  get  the 
New  York  Times  regularly.  Up  to  this  time  nothing  of  im- 
portance has  happened,  and  I  think  that  you  will  derive  from 
my  letters  as  much  information  to  be  relied  upon  as  you  could 
get  anywhere.  With  regard  to  3Iissouri,  there  is  not  the 
slightest  possibility  of  her  getting  out  of  the  Union.  The 
Governor  is  a  Secessionist  and  a  fugitive,  and  his  following  is 
comparatively  small.  I  had  a  long  conversation  last  evening 
with  the  Attorney-General  of  the  United  States,  Mr.  Bates,  who 
is  himself  of  Missouri,  and  he  tells  me  that  secession  there  is 
simply  an  impossibility.  General  Lyon  with  his  United  States 
forces  has  already  nearly  put  down  secession  there ;  but  should 
the  insurrection  be  protracted  much  longer,  the  State  would  be 
entered  on  three  sides  at  once  (for  it  is  surrounded  by  Free 
States)  and  150,000  slaves  liberated.  There  is  no  child's  play 
intended  any  longer,  and  the  word  compromise,  which  has 
been  the  country's  curse  for  so  long,  has  been  expunged  from 
the  dictionary.  Bates  has  been  the  champion  of  freedom  for 
many  years,  and  he  has  lived  to  sit  in  a  cabinet  with  men  of 
his  own  faith.     He  is  a  plain  man,  shrewd,  intelligent. 

Sumner,  who  arrived  Wednesday  night,  told  me  that  Mont- 
gomery Blair,  the  Postmaster-General,  was  desirous  of  making 
my  acquaintance.  Friday  morning  I  was  engaged  to  breakfast 
with  Mr.  Chase.  The  conversation  was  very  pleasant  and 
instructive  to  me,  turning  on  the  topics  already  mentioned, 
and  as  I  walked  down  with  him  to  the  Treasury  Department, 
he  insisted  on  my  going  with  him  into  his  office  to  finish  the 
subject,  the  purport  of  which,  he  said^  I  have  already  given 
you.  Afterwards  I  went  with  Sumiier  to  Mr.  Blair's.  He  is  a 
Virginian  by  birth  and  education,  and  it  is  therefore  the  more 
to  his  credit  that,  like  General  Scott,  he  is  of  the  warmest 
among  Unionists,  and  perhaps  the  most  go-ahead,  uncompro- 
mising enemy  to  the  rebels  in  the  cabinet,  not  even  excepting 
Mr.  Chase.  While  we  were  talking,  he  asked  me  what  I 
thought  of  the  President's  views.  I  told  him  that  I  had  only 
passed  half-an-hour  with  him  a  few  evenings  before,  when  I 
had  been  introduced  to  him  by  Mr.  Seward,  and  that  since 

VOL.  I.  .2d 


394  MOTLEY'S  LETTERS.  [Chap.  XIII. 

then  it  had  been  advertised  conspicuously  in  all  the  papers 
that  the  President  would  receive  no  visitors,  being  engaged  in 
preparing  his  message  to  Congress.  "  But  you  must  see  him  ; 
it  is  indispensable  that  you  should  see  him,  and  tell  him  about 
English  affairs,"  said  Blair.  I  told  him  that  I  was  leaving 
Washington  that  afternoon.  He  asked  if  I  could  not  defer  my 
departure.     I  said  no,  for  my  arrangements  were  already  made. 

The  truth  is,  I  had  resolved  not  to  force  myself  upon  the 
President.  If  he  did  not  care  to  converse  with  me,  it  was  in- 
different to  me  whether  I  saw  him  or  not.  But  Mr.  Blair 
begged  me  to  stop  a  moment  in  his  library,  and  incontinently 
rushed  forth  into  the  street  to  the  White  House,  which  was 
near,  and  presently  came  back,  saying  that  the  President 
would  be  much  obliged  if  I  would  pay  him  a  visit. 

I  went  and  had  an  hour's  talk  with  Mr.  Lincoln.  I  am  very 
glad  of  it,  for  had  I  not  done  so,  I  should  have  left  Washing- 
ton with  a  very  inaccurate  impression  of  the  President.  I  am 
now  satisfied  that  he  is  a  man  of  very  considerable  native 
sagacity  ;  and  that  he  has  an  ingenuous,  unsophisticated,  frank, 
and  noble  character.  I  believe  him  to  be  as  true  as  steel,  and 
as  courageous  as  true.  At  the  same  time  there  is  doubtless  an 
ignorance  about  State  matters,  and  particularly  about  foreign 
affairs,  which  he  does  not  affect  to  conceal,  but  which  we  must 
of  necessity  regret  in  a  man  placed  in  such  a  position  at  such 
a  crisis.  Nevertheless  his  very  modesty  in  this  respect  dis- 
arms criticism. 

Our  conversation  was,  of  course,  on  English  matters,  and  I 
poured  into  his  not  unwilling  ear  everything  which  my  expe- 
rience, my  knowledge,  and  my  heart,  could  suggest  to  me,  in 
order  to  produce  a  favourable  impression  in  his  mind  as  to 
England,  the  English  Government,  and  the  English  people. 
There  is  no  need  of  my  repeating  what  I  said,  for  it  is  suf- 
ficiently manifest  throughout  this  letter.  And  I  believe  that 
I  was  not  entirely  unsuccessful,  for  he  told  me  that  he  thought 
that  I  was  right,  that  he  was  much  inclined  to  agree  with  me, 
but,  he  added,  it  does  not  so  much  signify  what  I  think,  you 
must  persuade  Seward  to  think  as  you  do.  I  told  him  that  I 
found  the  secretary  much  mitigated  in  his  feelings  compared 


18G1.]  THE  president's  MESSAGE.  '      395 

with  what  I  had  expected.  He  expressed  his  satisfaction.  I 
do  not  quote  any  of  his  conversation  because  he  was  entirely  a 
listener  in  this  part  of  the  interview.  Afterwards  he  took  up 
his  message,  which  was  lying  in  loose  sheets  upon  the  writing- 
table,  and  read  me  nearly  the  whole  of  it,  so  far  as  it  was 
written.  On  the  whole,  the  document  impressed  me  very 
favourably.  With  the  exception  of  a  few  expressions,  it  was 
not  only  highly  commendable  in  spirit,  but  written  with  con- 
siderable untaught  grace  and  power.  These  were  my  first  im- 
pressions, which  I  hope  will  not  be  changed  when  the  docu- 
ment comes  before  the  world.  It  consists  mainly  of  a  narra- 
tive of  events  from  the  4th  of  March  up  to  the  present  hour. 
Nothing  had  yet  been  written  as  to  foreign  relations,  but  I 
understand  from  Seward  that  they  are  all  to  be  dismissed  in  a 
brief  paragraph,  such  as  will  create  neither  criticism  nor 
attention  anywhere. 

We  parted  very  affectionately,  and  perhaps  I  shall  never 
set  eyes  on  him  again,  but  I  feel  that  so  far  as  perfect  in- 
tegrity and  directness  of  purpose  go,  the  country  will  be  safe 
in  his  hands.  With  regard  to  the  great  issue,  we  have  good 
generals,  good  soldiers,  good  financiers,  twenty-three  millions 
of  good  people  "  whose  bosoms  are  one,"  a  good  cause,  and 
endless  tin. 

The  weather  has  been  beautiful  ever  since  I  landed,  mag- 
nificent sunshine  and  delicious  heat.  Just  now  there  is  a 
heavy  shower.  When  it  is  over  I  am  going  to  drive  over  to 
Camp  Andrew,  to  see  the  Massachusetts  2nd. 

Ten  more  regiments  have  been  ordered  from  Massachusetts, 
and  seven,  including  Gordon's,  will  soon  be  ready  to  take  the 
field  at  once.  This  will  make  15,000  men  from  Massachusetts 
alone.  New  York  has  already  sent  20,000,  and  has  a  reserve 
of  20,000  ready.  Pennsylvania  about  the  same,  and  so  on.  The 
only  struggle  is  who  shall  get  the  greatest  number  accepted. 

Give  my  love  to  all  my  English  friends.  Kiss  my  three 
darlings  3000  times,  and  believe  me. 

Most  lovingly, 

J.  L.  M. 


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Motley,  John  Lothrop 

The  correspondence  of 
John  Lothrop  Motley 


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