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 AN 
 
 American Four-in-Hand 
 
 In Britain
 
 ? ' 
 
 
 AN 
 
 American Four-in-Hand 
 
 In Britain 
 
 by 
 ANDREW CARNEGIE 
 
 LONDON 
 
 SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON, SEARLE, AND RIVINGTON 
 
 Crown Buildings, 188 Fleet Street 
 
 {.■III rights reserved}
 
 A 
 
 V 
 
 I DEDICATE THESE PAGES 
 
 TO 
 
 My Favorite Heroine, 
 
 JHB fttotljer.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 The publication of this book renders neces- 
 sary a few words of explanation. It was orig- 
 inally printed for private circulation among a 
 few dear frierids — those who were not as well 
 as those who were of the coaching party — to 
 be treasured as a souvenir of happy days. The 
 house which has undertaken the responsibility of 
 giving it a wider circulation believed that its 
 publication might give pleasure to some who 
 wotild not otherwise see it. It is not difficult 
 to persuade one that his work which has met 
 with the approval of his immediate circle may 
 be worthy of a larger audience ; and the author 
 was the more easily induced to consent to its re- 
 print because, the first edition being exhausted, 
 he was no longer able to fill many requests for 
 copies. 
 
 The original intent of the book mtist be the 
 exctise for the highly personal nature of the
 
 viii Preface. 
 
 narrative, which could scarcely be changed with- 
 out an entire remodelling, a task for which the 
 writer had neither time nor inclination ; so, with 
 the exception of a few suppressions and some 
 additions which seemed necessary under its new 
 conditions, its character has not been materially 
 altered. Trusting that his readers may derive 
 from a perusal of its pages a tithe of the pleas- 
 ure which the Gay Charioteers experienced in 
 performing the journey, and wishing that all 
 may live to see their " ships come home " and 
 then enjoy a similar excursion for themselves , 
 he subscribes himself, 
 
 Very Sincerely, 
 
 The Author. 
 
 New York, May I, 1S83.
 
 : * J 
 
 AN AMERICAN FOUR-IN-HAND 
 IN BRITAIN. 
 
 LONG enough ago to permit us to sing, " For we are 
 boys, merry, merry boys, Merry, merry boys together," 
 and the world lay all before us where to choose, Dod, 
 Vandy, Harry, and I walked through Southern Eng- 
 land with knapsacks on our backs. What pranks we 
 played ! Those were the happy days when we heard 
 the chimes at midnight and laughed Sir Prudence out 
 of countenance. " Dost thou think, because thou art 
 virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale ? " Nay, 
 verily, Sir Gray Beard, and ginger shall be hot i' the 
 mouth too ! Then indeed 
 
 "The sounding- cataract 
 Haunted me like a passion ; the tall rock, 
 The mountain, and the deep and gloomy wood, 
 Their colors and their forms, were then to me 
 An appetite ; a feeling and a love 
 That had no need of a remoter charm, 
 By thought supplied, or any interest 
 Unborrowed from the eye." 
 
 It was during this pedestrian excursion that I an- 
 nounced that some day, when my "ships came home," 
 i
 
 2 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 I should drive a party of my dearest friends from 
 Brighton to Inverness. Black's "Adventures of a 
 Phaeton " came not long after this to prove that another 
 Scot had divined how idyllic the journey could be 
 made. It was something of an air-castle — of a dream — 
 those far-off days, but see how it has come to pass ! 
 
 The world, in my opinion, is all wrong on the sub- 
 ject of air-castles. People are forever complaining 
 that their chateaux en Espagne are never realized. But 
 the trouble is with them — they fail to recognize them 
 when they come. "To-day," says Carlyle, "is a king 
 in disguise," and most people are in possession of their 
 air-castles, but lack the trick to see't. 
 
 Look around you ! see Vandy, for instance. When 
 we were thus doing Merrie England on foot, he with a 
 very modest letter of credit stowed away in a belt 
 round his sacred person — for Vandy it was who always 
 carried the bag (and a faithful treasurer and a careful 
 one too — good boy, Vandy!); he was a poor student 
 then, and you should have heard him philosophize and 
 lord it over us two, who had been somewhat fortunate 
 in rolling mills, and were devoted to business. " Great 
 Caesar ! boys, if I ever get fifteen hundred dollars a 
 year income ! " (This was the fortune I was vaguely 
 figured up to be worth under ordinary conditions.) 
 " Great Caesar ! boys " — and here the fist would come 
 down on the hard deal table, spilling a few drops of 
 beer — " fifteen hundred dollars a year ! Catch me
 
 Air-Castles. 3 
 
 working any more like a slave, as you and Harry do ! " 
 Well, well, Vandy's air-castle was fifteen hundred dol- 
 lars a year ; yet see him now when thousands roll in 
 upon him every month. Hard at it still — and see the 
 goddess laughing in her sleeve at the good joke on 
 Vandy. He has his air-castle, but doesn't recognize 
 the structure. 
 
 There is Miss Fashion. How fascinating she was 
 when she descanted on her air-castle — then a pretty- 
 cottage with white and red roses clustering beside the 
 door and twining over it in a true-lover's knot, symbol- 
 izing the lover's ideal of mutual help and dependence — 
 the white upon the red. No large establishment for 
 her, nor many servants ! One horse (I admit it was 
 always to be a big one), and an elegant little vehicle ; 
 plenty of garden and enough of pin money. On this 
 point there was never to be the slightest doubt, 
 so that she could really get the best magazines and 
 one new book every month — any one she chose. A 
 young hard-working husband, without too much in- 
 come, so that she might experience the pleasure of 
 planning to make their little go far. Behold her now ! 
 her husband a millionaire, a brown-stone front, half a 
 dozen horses, a country place, and a box at the opera ! 
 But, bless your heart ! she is as unconscious of the 
 arrival of her castle as she is that years creep upon her 
 apace. 
 
 The Goddess Fortune, my friends, rarely fails to
 
 4 Foh -..-/. 
 
 " a Is all they pray and more: but how she 
 
 must stand amazed at the blindness of her idolatc 
 
 continue to offer up their prayers at her shrine, 
 
 iscious that th ' -t requests have been 
 
 It :.tkes Fortune a little time to prepare the 
 
 g ts for so many supplicants— the toys each one spe- 
 
 and behold! before they can be 
 
 ired though she works ith speed betimes^ the 
 
 un: as - ..ortals have lost conceit of their priz .-. 
 
 and their coming is a i they are crying for 
 
 If the Fates be malignant, as old re- 
 tch, how they must enjoy the folly of man! 
 Imagine a good spirit taking Fortune to task for 
 : scontent of mor: .zes with 
 
 yes upon our disappointments, our troub" 
 . saddest of all, our regrets, charging her with pro- 
 cing such unhappiness. M Why you done this?" 
 
 _ the inquiry. Listen to the sardonic chuckle 
 of the Fate : M Hush ! I've only given them what they 
 zhuckle — chuckle — chuckle Not my fault ! 
 
 5 sleeplessry and feverishly 
 I - lg on his pillow, and in his waking hours absorb- 
 
 . - in gambling at the Stock Ex- 
 
 change — ife, children, home, music, art, culture, all 
 
 forgotten. He was once a bright, promising, ingenuous 
 
 youth. He was born among trees and green fields, 
 
 : the morn of life in the cour.: : and re- 
 
 to all nature's whisperings; lay in cool, leafy
 
 Air-Castles. 5 
 
 shades, wandered in forest glades, and paddled in the 
 ' complaining brooks which make the meadow green.' 
 Nay, not many years ago he returned at intervals to 
 these scenes, and found their charm had still power 
 over him — felt the truth of the poet's words, that 
 
 " ' To him who in the love of nature ho'. 
 
 Communion v. - visible forms, she speaks 
 
 A various language ; for his gayer hours 
 
 She has a voice of gladness, ar-d a smile 
 
 And eloquence of beau cy. an d ides 
 
 I o his darker mo 
 
 And healing syrap 
 
 Their sharpness, ere he re.' 
 
 " He asked for enough to live honorably upon 
 among his fellows," continues the Fate, "and to 
 his parents comfortabJ their old age — a matter of a 
 
 few hundreds a year — and I gave hirn this and thou- 
 sands more. Ha, ha, ha! Silence! L ; him; 
 doesn't see the joke. Oh yes, you may try tell it 
 to him, if you like. He has no time to listen, nor e 
 to hear, nor eyes to see ; no, nor soul to under 
 your language. He's 'short' on New Jersey Central 
 or 'long' on Reading, and, bless you! he mo ain 
 every fibre if he would save himself from ruin. 
 
 • He could commune with you in your youth, y 
 say ; he had your language then. Xo doubt ! no d 
 so did he then know his La- 1 whisper his pray 
 
 at his mother's knee. The Latin has gone ; his praying
 
 i- oxr-in-Hand in Britain, 
 
 conl ss — nay tas crease lis - -_ ' 
 
 - " ...:.". - ■ : - _ as a- tnocc gno- 
 
 : more : srsk from God for 
 
 • e is a is* man and is sup- 
 
 a: _: : : . — ; ■ . ; - — ; ; he 
 
 7 ■ . - . - ar.ohher raerae '.- . e 7i:e -.v.- - - 
 
 to the f-xxl Fairy Look . i out in all 
 
 3 of changeable c : her rhxed-up 
 
 : : •: . " : : r. ; ~ : : " a. a . - hex - er : as unmeaning; ?;rr.- 
 
 . " - - — : ?-.e :: . • ind fore n — 
 
 - : ~ ~e: air J : ;- . ~: . : d much to r. : a e See her i: ':.:::.; 
 
 ' ~.er ah. nopes she g sc haggard, 
 
 What worm 
 rai ~; a: e: :eart i - e e ■ She. 
 
 ' '-:.--.-- agh: 
 
 gre _ ; : ■ i : - - ; : :' "r i r eh 
 
 : r. : : r £ : - : . Nature's s : so care- 
 
 :h :: :: aaeaher i - e bodime I 
 
 : : z :: ah arraa a her Yon « 1 have seen her 
 
 he: :eeaf a r. : r. : _ 5 ray :r:~ heaven — ' making 
 
 i saafhhae :a - z .i:e — 
 
 -.;-.-: _ r hi - g In 
 
 her rr :;: sezre: ; she as :':r i 
 
 - : : ~ " : . : : : ■ 
 
 ■:_: ostentation. She* good girl and I 
 
 r— z--ei -er vh-h i~ : ~ :re - . - Fate. " Her ahr-casl 
 
 -- : :_: I sent ha i magnificenf sue 5 
 courrei Battered has -h g .:: in my power to be-
 
 Air-Castles. ~ 
 
 stc he pines in the midst of diem. The ::..- 
 
 ;:' her ra .'■",' far her — I - 
 
 fruits indeed, hich fall to = on hex She ! 
 
 entered I - r a : e o : F ashk ind her soul is ab- 
 
 sorbea jealoa -. 5 and disap] 
 
 to her as of old ; tell her the: . . - - emething nc: 
 in that domain of human life where du: jnm — 
 sor. d ".!;•" : ; lirlerent from - ion, 
 
 n dress or She ondersta Is yon not. 
 
 "Hand her a : _nch of violets, Does she Ic 
 their lesson with their odor (which her dog scents 
 
 she ' Comes there to her the r r meaning, 
 the -:-r.: : : -rr n hay :ha: Eaeahi ::' a 
 
 : ; ;ri:y. ;:' the :re;h ;reeze that far.r.ea her 
 cheek in childhood's halcyon lays :he love of all 
 things of the greer. earth and the sense : ;goodu 
 of God which his flov ver hold within their pe: 
 
 for those who know their langn ige? They "villdeco- 
 r.:e me to-night for the bah That - the be-all and 
 the end-all of her lal ship's love for B nrexs. 
 
 "Show her a picture .. more of heaven than 
 earth in ::. era glimpses :: :.e light that never ne 
 on sea or shore. If the art ist be in Eashion she will 
 call i: • pretty,' when : is grand. jive her 
 it the ; ra? )h yes, she will attend. '.: > the fash- 
 i ra i :h in her reach the « - - 
 
 rio (with mc : : or 
 
 the phony. No, a previous t suk
 
 8 Fc - -/ 3?'ita: 
 
 prevents. Why, just think of it — one cant talk the* 
 Yet : in could once pi; th feeling and sing 
 
 jhting her young companions. Of 
 her one could truly 
 
 \ g ow which is divinest — 
 
 » s _ — she r gestures on the ;une; 
 
 . . . ber -■ - - ".e = r ;e sc g hen the 
 
 notes 
 
 7 >1 .oot out vocal I gbl and seem to swell them 
 
 - : illen to th 
 u Has . children? b iquires the Good Spirit. 
 U N - - Fate, - ;.re not altogether relentle;;. 
 H: : aid wc give such a woman children and look 
 yon in the face? [t is sometimes thought nee. 
 
 to go as fir as this, but in such : tses .e commend 
 the ts to the special care of the ~rrit Father, 
 
 for mother t .we none. But look! there is a man 
 
 now v. .'. sc pray for a son and heir that we gave 
 
 him ore. and vonder groes the result. God in heaven ! 
 re men so rash in their blindness as to pray for 
 anvthi: _ Surely ' Thy ? U be done ' were best. 
 
 I am as bad as Sterne in his " Sentimental Jour- 
 ney," and will never get on at this rate. I started to 
 . that the Fates were too kind instead of not kind 
 enough it least, my e ever been mere 
 
 : Dmpared with the realities, for never did I dream, 
 in my Idest that the intended drive through
 
 Emba :n. a 
 
 Britain would ely proportions c: a 
 
 fou -nd, crowded with a dozen of my dearest 
 
 modest phaeton or wagonette with a 
 of hor . as the extent of my dream, but the Fairy 
 sent me four, you see, and two friends for every one I 
 had pleased my imaginir. : ire to take the 
 
 journey with me. 
 
 But now to a sober beginning of the story of the 
 coach. It was in the leafy month of June — the 
 firs: lay thereof, however — in the year of our Lord 
 1 83 1, that the good ship Bothnia (Cunard Line, of 
 coa laptai: (a true Scot and bold Brit- 
 
 ilor), steamed from the future polis of the 
 
 r the shores of Iferrie England. She had 
 many passengers, but among them - who 
 
 outranked all others, if their rtive opinions of each 
 
 : : e accepted as the true standard of judg- 
 ment. I ha 1 recc ed for many months before the 
 
 imaginable in startling first or. 
 then anothe to report at headquarte: 
 
 ndsor Hotel. Nc - a \ repared to em- 
 
 bark. It :n St. Valentine's Day that the Prima 
 
 Donna recc i a missive which caused her 
 heart to flutter. What a pretty reply came ! Here 
 a short extra:: : 
 
 I : dream of it ; three month lad 
 
 ird to think e happiest 
 
 .etimes I can't be!:. . ^*°g to happen."
 
 io Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 To Davenport, Iowa, went another invitation. In 
 due time came a return missive from the proud City of 
 the River : 
 
 " Will I go to Paradise for three months on a coach ? Agent 
 of Providence, I will ! " 
 
 Isn't it glorious to make one's friends so happy? 
 
 Harbor of New York, June i, 1881. ) 
 On board Steamer Bothnia. ) 
 
 Call the roll. 
 
 Queen Dowager, Head of the Clan (no Salic Law in 
 our family); Miss J. J. (Prima Donna); Miss A. F. 
 (Stewardess); Mr. and Mrs. McC. (Dainty Davie); Mr. 
 and Mrs. K. (Paisley Troubadours) ; Mr. B. F. V. 
 (Vandy); Mr. H. P., Jr. (Our Pard) ; Mr. G. F. McC. 
 (General Manager) ; ten in all, making, together with 
 the scribe, the All-coaching Eleven. 
 
 Ting-a-ling-a-ling ! The tears are shed, the kisses 
 ta'en. The helpless hulk breathes the breath of life. 
 The pulsations of its mighty heart are felt, the last 
 rope that binds us to land cast off ; and now see the hun- 
 dreds of handkerchiefs waving from the pier fading and 
 fading away. But note among the wavers one slight 
 graceful figure ; Miss C. of our party, present in spirit 
 if bodily absent on duty, much to the regret of us all. 
 The wavings from deck to shore tell our friends 
 
 " how slow our souls sailed »n, 
 How fast our ship."
 
 On the Bothnia. n 
 
 The Bothnia turned her face to the east, and out 
 upon old ocean's gray and melancholy waste sailed the 
 Gay Charioteers. As we steamed down the bay three 
 steamers crowded with the most enterprising of Eu- 
 rope's people passed us. emigrants coming to find in 
 the bounteous bosom of the Great Republic the bless- 
 ings of equality, the just reward of honest labor. Ah, 
 favored land ! the best of the Old World seek your 
 shores to swell to still grander proportions your assured 
 greatness. That all come only for the material benefits 
 you confer, I do not believe. Crowning these material 
 considerations, I insist that the more intelligent of 
 these people feel the spirit of true manhood stirring 
 within them, and glory in the thought that they are to 
 become part of a powerful people, of a government 
 founded upon the born equality of man, free from mili- 
 tary despotism and class distinctions. There is a trace 
 of the serf in the man who lives contentedly in a land 
 with ranks above him. One hundred and seventeen 
 thousand came last month, and the cry is still they 
 come! O ye self-constituted rulers of men in Europe, 
 know you not that the knell of dynasties and of rank is 
 sounding? Are you so deaf that you do not hear the 
 thunders, so blind that you do not see the lightnings 
 which now and then give warning of the storm that is 
 to precede the reign of the people ? 
 
 There is everything in the way one takes things. 
 " Whatever is, is right," is a good maxim for travellers
 
 12 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 to adopt, but the Charioteers improved on that. The 
 first resolution they passed was, " Whatever is, is love- 
 ly ; all that does happen and all that doesn't shall be 
 altogether lovely." We shall quarrel with nothing, 
 admire everything and everybody. A surly beggar 
 shall afford us sport, if any one can be surly under our 
 smiles ; and stale bread and poor fare shall only serve 
 to remind us that we have banqueted at the Windsor. 
 Even no dinner at all shall pass for a good joke. Rain 
 shall be hailed as good for the growing corn ; a cold 
 day pass as invigorating, a warm one welcomed as sug- 
 gestive of summer at home, and even a Scotch mist 
 serve to remind us of the mysterious ways of Provi- 
 dence. In this mood the start was made. Could any 
 one suggest a better for our purpose ? 
 
 Now comes a splendid place to skip — the ocean 
 voyage. Everybody writes that up upon the first trip, 
 and every family knows all about it from the long de- 
 scriptive letters of the absent one doing Europe. 
 
 When one has crossed the Atlantic twenty odd 
 times there seems just about as much sense in boring 
 one's readers with an account of the trip as if the 
 journey were by rail from New York to Chicago. W T e 
 had a fine, smooth run, and though some of us were a 
 trifle distrait, most of us were supremely happy. A 
 sea voyage compared with land travel is a good deal 
 like matrimony compared with single blessedness, I 
 take it : either decidedly better or decidedly worse.
 
 The Atlantic. 13 
 
 To him who finds himself comfortable at sea, the ocean 
 is the grandest of treats. He never fails to feel himself 
 a boy again while on the waves. There is an exulta- 
 tion about it. " He walks the monarch of the peopled 
 deck," glories in the storm, rises with and revels in it. 
 Heroic song comes to him. The ship becomes a live 
 thing, and if the monster rears and plunges it is akin 
 to bounding on his thoroughbred who knows its rider. 
 Many men feel thus, and I am happily of them, but 
 the ladies who are at their best at sea are few. 
 
 The travellers, however, bore the journey well, 
 though one or two proved indifferent sailors. One 
 morning I had to make several calls upon members be- 
 low and administer my favorite remedy; but pale and 
 dejected as the patients were, not one failed to smile a 
 ghastly smile, and repeat after a fashion the cabalistic 
 words — " Altogether lovely." 
 
 He who has never ridden out a hurricane on the 
 Atlantic is to be pitied. It seems almost ridiculous to 
 talk of storms when on such a monster as the Servia. 
 Neptune now may " his dread trident shake " and only 
 give us pleasure, for in these days we laugh at his pre- 
 tensions. Even he is fast going the way of all kings, 
 his wildest roar being about on a par with the last Bull 
 of the Pope, to which we listen with wonder but with- 
 out fear. 
 
 In no branch of human progress has greater advance 
 been made within the past twenty years than in ocean
 
 14 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 navigation by steam ; not so much in the matter of 
 speed as in cost of transport. The Persia, once the 
 best ship of the Cunard Line, required an expenditure 
 of thirty-five dollars as against her successors' one dol- 
 lar. The Servia will carry thirty-five tons across the 
 ocean for what one ton cost in the Persia. A revolu- 
 tion indeed ! and one which brings the products of 
 American soil close to the British shores. Quite re- 
 cently flour has been carried from Chicago to Liverpool 
 for forty-eight cents (2^.) per barrel. The farmer of 
 Illinois is as near the principal markets of Britain as 
 the farmer in England who grows his crops one hun- 
 dred miles from his market and transports by rail ; and, 
 in return for this, the pig-iron manufacturer of Britain 
 is as near the New York market as is his competitor on 
 the Hudson. 
 
 Some of the good people of Britain who are interest- 
 ed in land believe that the competition of America has 
 reached its height. Deluded souls, it has only begun! 
 
 One cannot be a day at sea without meeting the 
 American who regrets that the Stars and Stripes have 
 been commercially driven from the ocean. This always 
 reminds me of a fable of the lion and the turtle. The 
 lion was proudly walking along the shore, the real king 
 of his domain, the land. The turtle mocked him, say- 
 ing, Oh, that's nothing, any one can walk on land. 
 Let's see you try it in the water. The lion tried. Re- 
 sult : the turtle fed upon him for many days. America
 
 The American Navy. 15 
 
 can only render herself ridiculous by entering the 
 water. That is England's domain. 
 
 " Her home is on the mountain wave, 
 Her march is o'er the deep." 
 
 We are talking just now about building some ships 
 for a proposed American Navy, which is equivalent to 
 saying that we are going to furnish ships to the enemy, 
 if we are ever foolish enough to have one — for it takes 
 two fools to wage war. Unless America resolves to 
 change her whole policy as a republic, teaching mankind 
 the victories of peace, far more renowned than those of 
 war, and goes back to the ideas of monarchical govern- 
 ments, she should build no ships of war ; but if she will 
 leave her unique position among the nations, and step 
 down to the level of quarrellers, let her beat the navies 
 of Britain and France, for the ships of a weak naval 
 power are the certain prey of the stronger in time of 
 war. In peace they are useless. 
 
 In thinking of the real glories of America, my mind 
 goes first to this — that she has no army worthy of the 
 name, and scarcely a war ship of whose complete in- 
 efficiency in case of active service we are not permitted 
 to indulge the most sanguine anticipations. 
 
 What has America to do following in the wake of 
 brutal, pugilistic nations still under the influence of 
 feudal institutions, who exhaust their revenues training 
 men how best to butcher their fellows, and in building
 
 1 6 Fonr-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 up huge ships for purposes of destruction ! No, no, let 
 monarchies play this game as long as the people toler- 
 ate it, but for the Republic " all her paths are peace," 
 or the bright hopes which the masses of Europe repose 
 in her are destined to a sad eclipse. 
 
 Travellers know the character and abilities of the 
 men in charge of a Cunard ship, but have they ever 
 considered for what pittances such men are obtained ? 
 Captain, $3,250 per annum; first officer, $1,000; second, 
 third, and fourth officers, $600. For what sum, think 
 you, can be had a man capable of controlling the pon- 
 derous machinery of the Servia ? Chief engineeer, 
 $1,250. You have seen the firemen at work down be- 
 low, perhaps. Do you know any work so hard as this ? 
 Price $30 per month. The first cost of a steel ship — 
 and it is scarcely worth while in these days to think of 
 any other kind — is about one-half on the Clyde what it 
 is on the Delaware. Steel can be made, and is made, in 
 Britain for about one half its cost here. Not in our day 
 will it be wise for America to leave the land. It is a 
 very fair division, as matters stand — the land for Amer- 
 ica, the sea for England. 
 
 Friday, June 10, 18S1. 
 
 Land ahoy ! There it was, the long dark low-lying 
 
 cloud, which was no cloud, but the outline of one of the 
 
 most unfortunate of lands — unhappy Ireland, cursed by 
 
 the well-meaning attempt of England to grow English-
 
 Ireland. 1 7 
 
 men there. England's experience north of the Tweed 
 should have taught her better. 
 
 Conquerors cannot rule as conquerors a people who 
 have parliamentary institutions and publish newspa- 
 pers ; and neither of these can ever be taken away 
 from Ireland. They always come to stay. You may 
 succeed in keeping down slaves for a while, but then 
 you must govern them as slaves, and the Irish people 
 have advanced beyond this. Just in proportion as 
 they do grow less like serfs and more like men, the 
 impossibility of England's governing Ireland must grow 
 likewise. I hear some Americans reproaching the Irish 
 people for rioting and fighting so much ; the real troub- 
 le is they don't fight half enough. Take my own 
 heroic Scotland ; let even Mr. Gladstone, one of our- 
 selves and our best beloved, send an Englishman as 
 Lord Advocate to Scotland, and let him dare pass a 
 measure for Scotland in Parliament against the wishes 
 of the Scotch members, and all the uprisings in Ireland 
 would seem like farces to the thorough work Scotland 
 would make of English interference. She would not 
 stand it a minute. Neither should Ireland. If she 
 has the elements of a great people within her borders, 
 she will never submit. In less than a generation Ire- 
 land can be made as loyal a member of the British 
 confederacy as Scotland is; and all that is necessary to 
 produce this is that she should be dealt with as Eng- 
 land has to deal with Scotland. Let the Emerald Isle, 
 2
 
 1 8 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 then, fight against the attempted dominion of England, 
 as Scotland fought against it, and may the result be 
 the same — that Ireland shall govern herself, as Scot- 
 land does, though her own representatives duly elected 
 by the people. " To this complexion must it come at 
 last," and the sooner the better for all parties con- 
 cerned. 
 
 We reached Liverpool Saturday morning. How 
 pleasant it is to step on shore in a strange land and be 
 greeted by kind friends on the quay ! Their welcome 
 to England counted for so much. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. P. had been fellow passengers. A 
 special car was waiting to take them to London, but 
 they decided not to go, and Mr. P. very kindly placed it 
 at the disposal of Mr. J. and family (who were, fortu- 
 nately for us, also fellow-passengers) and our party, so 
 that we began our travelling upon the other side under 
 unexpectedly favorable conditions. 
 
 To such of the party as were getting their first 
 glimpse of the beautiful isle, the journey to London 
 seemed an awakening from happy dreams. They had 
 dreamed that England looked thus and thus, and now 
 their dreams had come true. The scenery of the Mid- 
 land route is very fine, much more attractive than that 
 of the other line. 
 
 The party spent from Saturday until Thursday at 
 the Westminster Hotel, in monster London, every one 
 being free to do what most interested him or her. "
 
 House of Commons. 19 
 
 Groups of three or four were formed for this purpose 
 by the law of natural selection, but the roll was called 
 for breakfasts and dinners, so that we all met daily and 
 were fully advised of each other's movements. 
 
 The House of Commons claimed the first place with 
 our party, all being anxious to see the Mother of Par- 
 liaments. It is not so easy a matter to do this as to 
 see our Congress in session ; but thanks to our friend 
 Mr. R. C. and to others, we were fortunate in being 
 able to do so frequently. Our ladies had the pleasure 
 of being taken into the Ladies' Gallery by one of the 
 rising statesmen of England, Sir Charles Dilke, a Cabi- 
 net Minister, and one who has had the boldness, and as 
 I think the rare sagacity, to say that he prefers the re- 
 publican to the monarchical system of government. The 
 world is to hear of Sir Charles Dilke, if he live and 
 health be granted him, and above all, if he remain 
 steadfast to his honest opinions. So many public men 
 in England " stoop to conquer," forgetting that what- 
 ever else they may conquer thereafter they never can 
 conquer that stoop; that " drags down their life " ! 
 
 We really heard John Bright speak — the one of all 
 men living whom our party wished most to see and to 
 hear. I had not forgotten hearing him speak in Dun- 
 fermline, when I was seven years of age, and well do I 
 remember that when I got home I told mother he 
 made one mistake ; for when speaking of Mr. Smith 
 (the Liberal candidate) he called him a men, instead of
 
 20 Four-in-Hand i7i Britain. 
 
 a maan. When introduced to Mr. Bright I was de- 
 lighted to find that he had not forgotten Dunfermline, 
 nor the acquaintances he had made there. 
 
 A grand character, that of the sturdy Quaker ; once 
 the best hated man in Britain, but one to whom both 
 continents are now glad to confess their gratitude. He 
 has been wiser than his generation, but has lived to see 
 it grow up to him. Certainly no American can look 
 down from the gallery upon that white head with- 
 out beseeching heaven to shower its choicest bless- 
 ings upon it. He spoke calmly upon the Permissive 
 Liquor Bill, and gave the ministerial statement in re- 
 gard to it. All he said was good common sense ; we 
 could do something by regulating the traffic and con- 
 fining it to reasonable hours, but after all the great cure 
 must come from the better education of the masses, 
 who must be brought to feel that it is unworthy of 
 their manhood to brutalize themselves with liquor. 
 England has set herself at last to the most important of 
 all work — the thorough education of her people ; and 
 we may confidently expect to see a great improvement 
 in their habits in the next generation. My plan for 
 mastering the monster evil of intemperance is that our 
 temperance societies, instead of pledging men never to 
 taste alcoholic beverages, should be really temperance 
 agencies and require their members to use them only at 
 meals — never to drink wines or spirits without eating. 
 The man who takes one glass of wine, or beer, or spirits
 
 Temperance. 2 1 
 
 at dinner is clearly none the worse for it. I judge that 
 if the medical fraternity were polled, a large majority 
 would say he was the better for it, at least after a cer- 
 tain age. Why can't we recognize the fact that all 
 races indulge in stimulants and will continue to do so ? 
 It is the regulation, not the eradication, of this appetite 
 that is practical. The coming man is to consider it low 
 to walk up to a bar and gulp down liquor. The race 
 will come to this platform generations before they will 
 accept that of Sir Wilfrid Lawson and his total absti- 
 nence ideas. 
 
 This was written before the Church of England 
 movement in this direction was known to me. Much 
 good must come of its efforts ; but I confess I should 
 like to see that church show that it is in earnest by re- 
 moving the deep reproach cast upon it by recent state- 
 ments, which pass uncontradicted. Listen to this 
 startling announcement : This holy Church of England, 
 mark you, is the largest owner of gin palaces in the 
 world. The head of the church, the Archbishop of Can- 
 terbury, in passing from his palace at Lambeth to his 
 abbey at Westminster, sees more than one hundred (I 
 believe I understate the case) gin palaces which his 
 church owns and has rented for such purposes ; nay, it 
 is shown that the church has always raised the rents of 
 these houses, with which licenses go, as the sales of 
 liquor have increased ; so that her interest lies in ex- 
 tending the use of liquors as a beverage secretly upon
 
 22 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 one hand, while she poses before the world as laboring 
 to restrict the curse with the other. Her right hand 
 knows only too well what her left hand doeth. It does 
 seem that the mere announcement of such a fact would 
 work its own remedy — perhaps it will when its holy 
 fathers are done with the vastly more' important busi- 
 ness of determining the size and shape of vestures, or 
 the number of candles, or the posture of the priest 
 most pleasing to God — but before the church can fig- 
 ure as much of an agency in the cause of temperance 
 reform, it will have to wash its hands of its hundred gin 
 palaces. 
 
 The article in Harper s Magazine upon Bedford 
 Square, giving glowing accounts of this Arcadian col- 
 ony, with its aesthetic homes, its Tabard Inn, and its 
 club, made us all desire to visit it. We did so one 
 afternoon, and received a very cordial welcome from 
 Mrs. C. in the absence of her husband. She kindly 
 showed us the grounds and explained all to us. Truth 
 compels me to say we were sadly disappointed, but for 
 this we had probably only ourselves to blame. It is so 
 natural to imagine that exquisite wood-cuts and pretty 
 illustrations set forth grander things than exist. 
 The houses were much inferior to our preconceived 
 ideas, and many had soft woods painted, and most of 
 the cheap shams of ordinary structures. The absence 
 of grand trees, shady dells, and ornamental grounds, 
 and the exceedingly cheap and cheap-looking houses
 
 Stafford House. 23 
 
 made all seem like a new settlement in the Far West 
 rather than the latest development of culture. From 
 this criticism Mr. C.'s own pretty little home is wholly- 
 exempt, and no doubt there are many other homes 
 there equally admirable. I speak only of the general 
 impression made upon our party by a very hasty visit. 
 Bedford Park is no doubt an excellent idea, and des- 
 tined to do much good, only it is different from what 
 we had expected. 
 
 Extremes meet. It was from houses such as I have 
 spoken of that we went direct to Stafford House, to 
 meet the Marquis of Stafford by appointment, and to 
 be shown over that palace by him. What a change ! 
 If the former were not up to our expectations, this 
 exceeded them. I don't suppose any one ever has 
 expected to see such a staircase as enchants him 
 upon entering Stafford House. This is the most mag- 
 nificent residence any of us has ever seen. I will not 
 trust myself to speak of its beauties, nor of the treas- 
 ures it contains. One begins to understand to what 
 the Marquis of Stafford is born. The Sutherland fam- 
 ily have a million two hundred thousand acres of land 
 in Britain ; no other family in the world compares with 
 them as landowners. It is positively startling to think 
 of it. Almost the entire County of Sutherland is theirs. 
 Stafford House is their London residence. They 
 have Trentham Hall and Lillieshall in Mid-England, 
 and glorious Dunrobin Castle in Scotland.
 
 24 Four-in-Hand i?i Britain. 
 
 The Marquis sits in the House of Commons as 
 member for Sutherland County ; and what do you 
 think ! he is a painstaking director of the London and 
 North-Western Railway, and I am informed pays strict 
 attention to its affairs. The Duke of Devonshire is 
 Chairman of the Barrow Steel Company. Lord Gran- 
 ville has iron works, and Earl Dudley is one of the 
 principal iron manufacturers of England. It is all 
 right, you see, my friends, to be a steel-rail manufac- 
 turer or an iron-master. How fortunate ! But the 
 line must be drawn somewhere, and we draw it at 
 trade. The A. T. Stewarts and the Morrisons have no 
 standing in society in England. They are in vulgar 
 trade. Now if they brewed beer, for instance, they 
 would be somebodies, and might confidently look for- 
 ward to a baronetcy at least ; for a great deal of beer 
 a peerage is not beyond reach. 
 
 We heard a performance of the " Messiah " in 
 Albert Hall, which the Prima Donna agreed with me 
 was better in two important particulars than any simi- 
 lar performance we had heard in America. First in 
 : dt of attach by the chorus ; this was superb ; from the 
 first instant the full volume and quality of sound were 
 perfect. The other point was that all-important one of 
 enunciation. We have no chorus in Xew York which 
 r: -2.1s what we heard, though we have an orchestra 
 which is equal to ar.;\ The words were, of course, 
 familiar, and we could scarcely judge whether we were
 
 Parliament. 25 
 
 correct in our impression, but we believed that even 
 had they been strange to us we could nevertheless have 
 understood every word. Since my return to New York 
 I have heard this oratorio given by the Oratorio So- 
 ciety, and am delighted to note that Dr. Damrosch has 
 greatly improved his chorus in this respect ; but the Eng- 
 lish do pronounce perfectly in singing. This opinion 
 was confirmed by the music subsequently heard in 
 various places throughout our travels. In public as 
 well as in private singing the purity of enunciation 
 struck us as remarkable. If I ever set up for a music 
 teacher I shall bequeath to my favorite pupil as the 
 secret of success but one word, " enunciation? 
 
 Some of us went almost every day to Westminster, 
 but dancing attendance upon Parliament is much like 
 doing so upon Congress. The interesting debates are 
 few and far between. The daily routine is uninterest- 
 ing, and one sees how rapidly all houses of legislation 
 are losing their hold upon public attention. A debate 
 upon the propriety of allowing Manchester to dispose 
 of her sewage to please herself, or of permitting Dun- 
 fermline to bring in a supply of water, seems such a 
 waste of time. The Imperial Parliament of Great 
 Britain is much in want of something to do when it 
 condescends to occupy its time with trifling questions 
 which the community interested can best settle ; but 
 even in matters of national importance debates are 
 no longer what they were. The questions have already
 
 26 Four-in-Hand in Britain, 
 
 been threshed out in the Reviews — those coming forums 
 of discussion — and all that can be said already said by 
 writers upon both sides of the question who know its 
 bearings much better than the leaders of party. When 
 the Fortnightly or the Nineteenth Century gets through 
 with a subject the Prime Minister only rises to sum up 
 the result at which the Morleys and Rogerses, the 
 Spencers and Huxleys, the Giffens and Howards have 
 previously arrived. 
 
 The English are prone to contrast the men of 
 America and England who are in political life, and the 
 balance is no doubt greatly in their favor. But the 
 reason lies upon the surface: America has solved the 
 fundamental questions of government, and no changes 
 are desired of sufficient moment to engage the minds of 
 her ablest men. During the civil war, when new issues 
 arose and had to be met, the men who stepped forward 
 to guide the nation were of an entirely different class 
 from those prominent in politics either before or since. 
 Contrast the men of Buchanan's administration with 
 those the war called to the front — Lincoln, Seward, Stan- 
 ton, Sumner, Edmunds, Morton, or the generals of that 
 time, with Grant, Sherman, Sheridan, Hancock. All of 
 these men I have known well, except one or two of the 
 least prominent. I have met some of the best known 
 politicians in England. Compared morally or intellect- 
 ually, I do not think there is much, if any, difference 
 between them ; while for original creative power I
 
 Parliament. 2 7 
 
 believe the Americans superior. That a band of men 
 so remarkable as to cause surprise to other nations will 
 promptly arise whenever there is real work to do, no 
 one who knows the American people can doubt ; but no 
 man of real ability is going to spend his energies 
 endeavoring to control appointments to the New York 
 Custom House, any more than he will continue very- 
 long to waste his time discussing Manchester sewage. 
 Much as my English friends dislike to believe it, I tell 
 them that when there is really no great work to be 
 done, when the conflict between feudal and democratic 
 ideas ends, as it is fast coming to an end, and there 
 is no vestige of privilege left from throne to knight- 
 hood, only vain, weak men will seek election to Par- 
 liament, and such will stand ready to do the bidding of 
 the constituencies as our agents in Congress do. But 
 this need not alarm our English friends ; there will 
 then be much less bribery before election and much 
 less succumbing to social court influences after it. 
 The brains of a country will be found where the real 
 work is to do. The House of Lords registers the 
 decrees of the House of Commons. The House of 
 Commons is soon to register the decrees of the month- 
 lies. Both these things may be pronounced good. In 
 the next generation the debates of Parliament will 
 affect the political currents of the age as little as the 
 fulminations of the pulpit affect religious thought at 
 present ; and then a man who feels he has real power
 
 28 Four-in-Hafid in Britain. 
 
 within him will think of entering Parliament about 
 as soon as he would think of entering the House of 
 Lords or the American Congress. 
 
 " The parliament of man, the federation of the world," 
 
 comes on apace ; but its form is to be largely imper- 
 sonal. The press is the universal parliament. The 
 leaders in that forum make your " statesman " dance as 
 they pipe. 
 
 The same law is robbing the pulpit of real power. 
 Who cares what the Reverend Mr. Froth preaches now- 
 adays, when he ventures beyond the homilies ? Three 
 pages by Professor Robertson Smith in the " Encyclo- 
 paedia Britannica " destroy more theology in an hour 
 than all the preachers in the land can build up in a life- 
 time. If any man wants bona fide substantial power 
 and influence in this world, he must handle the pen — 
 that's flat. Truly, it is a nobler weapon than the sword, 
 and a much nobler one than the tongue, both of which 
 have nearly had their day. 
 
 We had a happy luncheon with our good friends the 
 C.'s, one of our London days; and some of our party 
 who had heard that there was not a great variety of 
 edibles in England saw reason to revise their ideas. 
 Another day we had a notable procession for miles 
 through London streets and suburbs to the residence 
 of our friend, Mr. B. Five hansoms in line driven pell- 
 mell reminded me of our Tokio experiences with gin- 
 rikshaws, two Bettos tandem in each.
 
 The Stars and Stripes. 29 
 
 It was a pretty, graceful courtesy, my friend, to dis- 
 play from the upper window the " Stars and Stripes," 
 in honor of the arrival of your American guests, and 
 prettier still to have across your hall as a portiere, 
 under which all must bow as they entered, that flag 
 which tells of a government founded upon the born 
 equality of man. Thanks ! Such things touch the 
 heart as well as the patriotic chord which vibrates in 
 the breast of every one so fortunate as to claim that 
 glorious standard as the emblem of the land he fondly 
 calls his own. Colonel Robert Ingersoll, that wonderful 
 orator, says that when abroad, after a long interval, he 
 saw in one of the seaports the Stars and Stripes flutter- 
 ing in the breeze, " he felt the air had blossomed into 
 joy." It was he too who told the South long ago that 
 " there wasn't air enough upon the American continent 
 to float two flags." Right there, Colonel ! 
 
 Do you know why the American worships the starry 
 banner with a more intense passion than even the Brit- 
 on does his flag? I will tell you. It is because it is not 
 the flag of a government which discriminates between 
 her children, decreeing privilege to one and denying it 
 to another, but the flag of the people which gives the 
 same rights to all. The British flag was born too soon 
 to be close to the masses. It came before their time, 
 when they had little or no power. They were not con- 
 sulted about it. Some conclave made it, as a pope is 
 made, and handed it down to the nation. But the
 
 30 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 American flag bears in every fibre the warrant, " We the 
 People in Congress assembled." It is their own child, 
 and how supremely it is beloved ! 
 
 It is a significant fact that in no riot or local out- 
 break have soldiers of the United States, bearing the 
 national flag, ever been assaulted. Militia troops have 
 sometimes been stoned, but United States troops never. 
 During the worst riot ever known in America, that in 
 our own good city of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, twenty- 
 eight United States soldiers, all there were in the bar- 
 racks, marched through the thousands of excited men 
 unmolested. I really believe that had any man in the 
 crowd dared to touch that flag, General Dix's famous 
 order would have been promptly enforced by his com- 
 panions. Major-General Hancock recently told me that 
 he had never known United States soldiers to be at- 
 tacked by citizens. He was in command of the troops 
 during the riots in the coal regions in Pennsylvania some 
 years ago, and whenever a body of his regulars ap- 
 peared they were respected and peace reigned. 
 
 General Dix's order was, " If any man attempts to 
 pull down the flag shoot him on the spot." So say we 
 all of us. And it will be the same in Britain some day, 
 ay and in Ireland too, when an end has been made of 
 privilege and there is not a government and a people, 
 but only a government of the people, for the people, 
 and by the people. The day is not so far off either as 
 some of you think, mark me.
 
 Brighton. 3 1 
 
 But good-bye, London, and all the thoughts which 
 crowd upon one when in your mighty whirl. You mon- 
 ster London, we are all glad to escape you ! But ere 
 we "gang awa' " shall we not note our visit to one we 
 are proud to call our friend, and of whom Scotland is 
 proud, Dr. Samuel Smiles, a writer of books indeed — 
 books which influence his own generation much, and 
 the younger generation more. Burns's wish was that he, 
 
 " For poor auld Scotland's sake, 
 Some useful plan or book could make, 
 Or sing a sang at least." 
 
 Well, the Doctor has made several books that are books, 
 and I have heard him sing a song, too, for the days of 
 Auld Lang Syne. May he live long, and long may his 
 devoted wife be spared to watch over him ! 
 
 Thursday Morning, June 16, 1881. 
 
 We are off for Brighton. Mr. and Miss B. ac- 
 company us. Mr. and Mrs. K. have run up to 
 Paisley with the children, and Mr. and Mrs. G. have 
 joined us in their place. The coach, horses, and ser- 
 vants went down during the night. 
 
 We had time to visit the unequalled aquarium and 
 to do the parade before dinner. Miss F. and I stole 
 off to make a much more interesting visit ; we called 
 upon William Black, whose acquaintance I had been
 
 32 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 fortunate enough to make in Rome, and whom I had 
 told that I should some day imitate his " Adventures 
 of a Phaeton." A week before we sailed from New 
 York, I had dined with President Garfield at Secretary 
 Blaine's in Washington. After dinner, conversation 
 turned upon my proposed journey, and the President 
 became much interested. " It is the 'Adventures of a 
 Phaeton ' on a grand scale," he remarked. " By the 
 way, has Black ever written any other story quite so 
 good as that? I do not think he has." In this there 
 was a general concurrence. He then said : " But I am 
 provoked with Black just now. A man who writes to 
 entertain has no right to end a story as miserably as he 
 has done that of ' MacLeod of Dare.' Fiction should 
 give us the bright side of existence. Real life has trag- 
 edies enough of its own." 
 
 A few weeks more and we were to have in his own 
 case the most terrible proof of the words he had 
 spoken so solemnly. I can never forget the sad, care- 
 worn expression of his face as he uttered them. 
 
 " But come it soon or come it fast, 
 It is but death that comes at last." 
 
 One might almost be willing to die if, as in Garfield's 
 case, there should flash from his grave, at the touch 
 of a mutual sorrow, to both divisions of the great 
 English-speaking race, the knowledge that they are 
 brothers. This discovery will bear good fruit in time.
 
 William Black. 33 
 
 " Nothing in his life became him like the leaving it." 
 
 Garfield's life was not in vain. It tells its own 
 story — this poor boy toiling upward to the proudest 
 position on earth, the elected of fifty millions of free- 
 men ; a position compared with which that of king or 
 kaiser is as nothing. Let other nations ask themselves 
 where are our Lincolns and Garfields ? Ah, they grow 
 not except where all men are born equal ! The cold 
 shade of aristocracy nips them in the bud. 
 
 Mr. Black came to see us off, but arrived at our 
 starting-place a few minutes too late. A thousand 
 pities ! Had we only known that he intended to do us 
 this honor, until high noon, ay, and till dewy eve, 
 would we have waited. Just think of our start being 
 graced by the author of " The Adventures of a Phae- 
 ton," and we privileged to give him three rousing 
 cheers as our horn sounded ! Though grieved to miss 
 him, it was a consolation to know that he had come, 
 and we felt that his spirit was with us and dwelt with 
 us during the entire journey. Many a time the in- 
 cidents of his charming story came back to us, but I 
 am sorry to record, as a faithful chronicler, that we 
 young people missed one of its most absorbing feat- 
 ures — we had no lovers. At least, I am not apprized 
 that any engagements were made upon the journey, 
 although, for my part, I couldn't help falling in love 
 just a tiny bit with the charming young ladies who de- 
 lighted us with their company.
 
 34 Four -in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 Brighton, Friday Morning, June 17. 
 
 Let us call the roll once more at the door of the 
 Grand Hotel, Brighton, that our history may be com- 
 plete : Mr. and Mrs. B., London ; Mr. and Mrs. T. G., 
 Wolverhampton; Miss M. L., Dunfermline; Miss E. F., 
 Liverpool ; Mr. and Mrs. McC, Miss J. J., Miss A. F., 
 Mr. B. F. V., Mr. H. P., Jr., Mr. G. F. McC, the Queen 
 Dowager and the Scribe. These be the names of the 
 new and delectable order of the Gay Charioteers, who 
 mounted their coach at Brighton and began the long 
 journey to the North Countrie on the day and date 
 aforesaid. And here, O my good friends, let me say 
 that until a man has stood at the door and seen his 
 own four-in-hand drive up before him, the horses — four 
 noble bays — champing the bits, their harness buckles 
 glistening in the sun ; the coach spick and span new 
 and as glossy as a mirror, with the coachman on the 
 box and the footman behind ; and then, enchanted, has 
 called to his friends, " Come, look, there it is, just as I 
 had pictured it ! " and has then seen them mount to 
 their places with beaming faces — until, as I say, he has 
 had that experience, don't tell me that he has known 
 the most exquisite sensation in life, for I know he 
 hasn't. It was Izaak Walton, I believe, who when 
 asked what he considered the most thrilling sensation 
 in life, answered that he supposed it was the tug of a 
 thirty-pound salmon. Well, that was not a bad guess. 
 I have taken the largest trout of the season on bonnie
 
 The Supreme Moment. 35 
 
 Loch Leven, have been drawn over Spirit Lake in 
 Iowa in my skiff for half an hour by a monster pickerel, 
 and have played with the speckled beauties in Dead 
 River. It is glorious; making a hundred thousand is 
 nothing to it ; but there's a thrill beyond that, my dear 
 old quaint Izaak. I remember in one of my sweet 
 strolls " ayont the wood mill braes " with a great man, 
 my Uncle Bailie M. — and I treasure the memory of 
 these strolls as among the chief of my inheritance — this 
 very question came up. I asked him what he thought 
 the most thrilling thing in life. He mused awhile, as 
 was the Bailie's wont, and I said, " I think I can tell 
 you, Uncle." "What is it then, Andrea?" (Not 
 Andrew for the world.) " Well, Uncle, I think that 
 when, in making a speech, one feels himself lifted, as 
 it were, by some divine power into regions beyond him- 
 self, in which he seems to soar without effort, and swept 
 by enthusiasm into the expression of some burning 
 truth, which has laid brooding in his soul, throwing 
 policy and prudence to the winds, he feels words whose 
 eloquence surprises himself, burning hot, hissing through 
 him like molten lava coursing the veins, he throws it 
 forth, and panting for breath hears the quick, sharp, 
 explosive roar of his fellow-men in thunder of assent, 
 the precious moment which tells him that the audience 
 is his own, but one soul in it and that his ; I think this 
 the supreme moment of life." " Go ! Andrea, ye've hit 
 it!" cried the Bailie, and didn't the dark eye sparkle!
 
 36 Fonr-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 He had felt this often, had the Bailie ; his nephew had 
 only now and then been near enough to imagine the 
 rest. 
 
 The happiness of giving happiness is far sweeter than 
 the pleasure direct, and I recall no moments of my life 
 in which the rarer pleasure seemed to suffuse my whole 
 heart as when I stood at Brighton and saw my friends 
 take their places that memorable morning. In this 
 variable, fantastic climate of Britain the weather is ever 
 a source of solicitude. What must it have been to me, 
 when a good start was all important! I remember I 
 awoke early in the morning and wondered whether 
 it was sunny or rainy. If a clear day could have been 
 purchased, it would have been obtained at almost any 
 outlay. I could easily tell our fate by raising the win- 
 dow-blind, but I philosophically decided that it was 
 best to lie still and take what heaven might choose 
 to send us. I should know soon enough. If rain it 
 was, I could not help it ; if fair, it was glorious. But 
 let me give one suggestion to those who in England 
 are impious enough to ask heaven to change its plans : 
 don't ask for dry weather ; always resort to that last 
 extremity when it is " a drizzle-drozzle " you wish. 
 Your supplications are so much more likely to be an- 
 swered, you know. 
 
 There never was a lovelier morning in England 
 than that which greeted me when I pulled up the 
 heavy Venetian blind and gazed on the rippling sea
 
 The Start. 2>7 
 
 before me, with its hundreds of pretty little sails. I 
 repeated to myself these favorite lines as I stood en- 
 tranced: 
 
 " The Bridegroom Sea is toying with the shore, 
 His wedded bride ; and in the fulness of his marriage joy 
 He decorates her tawny brow with shells, 
 Retires a space to see how fair she looks, 
 Then proud runs up to kiss her." 
 
 That is what old ocean was doing that happy morn 
 ine. I saw him at it, and I felt that if all created 
 beings had one mouth I should like to kiss them too. 
 
 All seated ! The Queen Dowager next the coach- 
 man, and I at her side. The horn sounds, the crowd 
 cheers, and we are off. A mile or two are traversed 
 and there is a unanimous verdict upon one point — this 
 suits us ! Finer than we had dreamt ! As we pass 
 the pretty villas embossed in flowers and vines and all 
 that makes England the home of happy homes, there 
 comes the sound of increasing exclamations. How 
 pretty ! Oh, how beautiful ! See, see, the roses ! oh 
 the roses! Look at that lawn ! How lovely! Enchant- 
 ing ! entrancing ! superb ! exquisite ! Oh, I never saw 
 anything like this in all my life ! And then the hum 
 of song — La-/«-LA-LA, Ra-da-d#-DUM ! Yes, it is all 
 true, all we dreamt or imagined, and beyond it. And 
 so on we go through Brighton and up the hills to the 
 famous Weald of Sussex.
 
 38 Four-in-Hand in Britain 
 
 While we make our first stop to water the horses at 
 the wayside inn, and some of the men as well, for a glass 
 of beer asserts its attractions, let me introduce you to 
 two worthies whose names will occupy important places 
 in our narrative, and dwell in our memories forever; 
 men to whom we are indebted in a large measure for 
 the success of the coaching experiment. 
 
 Ladies and gentlemen, this is Perry, Perry our 
 coachman ; and what he doesn't know about horses and 
 how to handle them you needn't overtask yourselves 
 trying to learn. And this is Joe — Joey, my lad — foot- 
 man and coach manager. A good head and an elo- 
 quent tongue has Joe. Yes, and a kind heart. There 
 is nothing he can do or think of doing for any of us — 
 and he can do much — that he is not off and doing ere 
 we ask him. " Skid, Joe ! " " Right, Perry ! " these talis- 
 manic words of our order we heard to-day for the 
 first time. It will be many a long day before they 
 cease to recall to the Charioteers some of the hap- 
 piest recollections of life. Even as I write I am in 
 English meadows far away and hear them tingling in 
 my ears. 
 
 It was soon discovered that no mode of travel could 
 be compared with coaching. By all other modes the 
 views are obstructed by the hedges and walls ; upon 
 the top of the coach the eye wanders far and wide, 
 
 " O'er deep waving fields and pastures green, 
 With gentle slopes and groves between."
 
 Rural England. 39 
 
 Everthing of rural England is seen, and how exquisitely 
 beautiful it all is, this quiet, peaceful, orderly land ! 
 
 " The ground's most gentle dimplement 
 (As if God's finger touched, but did not press, 
 In making England) — such an up and down 
 Of verdure ; nothing too much up and down, 
 A ripple of land, such little hills the sky 
 Can stoop to tenderly and the wheat-fields climb ; 
 Such nooks of valleys lined with orchises, 
 Fed full of noises by invisible streams, 
 I thought my father's land was worthy too of being Shake- 
 speare's." 
 
 I think this extract from Mr. Winter's charming 
 volume expresses the feelings one has amid such scenes 
 better than anything I know of : 
 
 " If the beauty of England were merely superficial, 
 it would produce a merely superficial effect. It would 
 cause a passing pleasure, and would be forgotten. It 
 certainly would not — as now in fact it does — inspire a 
 deep, joyous, serene and grateful contentment, and lin- 
 ger in the mind, a gracious and beneficent remem- 
 brance. The conquering and lasting potency of it re- 
 sides not alone in loveliness of expression, but in love- 
 liness of character. Having first greatly blessed the 
 British Islands with the natural advantages of position, 
 climate, soil, and products, nature has wrought out 
 their development and adornment as a necessary con- 
 sequence of the spirit of their inhabitants. The pictu-
 
 4-0 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 resque variety and pastoral repose of the English land- 
 scape spring, in a considerable measure, from the 
 imaginative taste and the affectionate gentleness of the 
 English people. The state of the country, like its 
 social constitution, flows from principles within (which 
 are constantly suggested), and it steadily comforts and 
 nourishes the mind with a sense of kindly feeling, moral 
 rectitude, solidity, and permanence. Thus, in the pe- 
 culiar beauty of England the ideal is made the actual, 
 is expressed in things more than in words, and in 
 things by which words are transcended. Milton's 
 ' L'Allegro,' fine as it is, is not so fine as the scenery — 
 the crystallized, embodied poetry — out of which it 
 arose. All the delicious rural verse that has been 
 written in England is only the excess and superflux of 
 her own poetic opulence ; it has rippled from the hearts 
 of her poets just as the fragrance floats away from her 
 hawthorn hedges. At every step of his progress the 
 pilgrim through English scenes is impressed with this 
 sovereign excellence of the accomplished fact, as con- 
 trasted with any words that can be said in its celebra- 
 tion." 
 
 The roads are a theme of continual wonder to those 
 • who have not before seen England. To say that from 
 end to end of our journey they equalled those of New 
 York Central Park would be to understate the fact. 
 They are equal to the park roads on days when these 
 are at their best, and are neither wet nor dusty. We
 
 The Scribe as a Singer. 41 
 
 bowl over them as balls do over billiard-tables. It is a 
 glide rather than a roll, with no sensation of jolting. 
 You could write or read on the coach almost as well as 
 at home. I mean you could if there was any time to 
 waste doing either, and you were not afraid of missing 
 some beautiful picture which would dwell in your mem- 
 ory for years, or Aleck's last joke, or the Prima Donna's 
 sweet song, Andrew's never-to-be-forgotten lilt, or the 
 Queen Dowager's Scotch ballad pertaining to the dis- 
 trict ; or what might be even still more likely, if you 
 didn't want to tell a story yourself, or even join in the 
 roaring chorus as we roll along, for truly the exhilarat- 
 ing effect of the triumphant progress is such as to em- 
 bolden one to do anything. I always liked Artemus 
 Ward, perhaps because I found a point of similarity 
 between him and myself. It was not he but his friend 
 who " was saddest when he sang," as the old song has 
 it. I noticed that my friends were strangely touched 
 when I burst into song. I do not recall an instance 
 when I was encored ; but the apparent slight arose 
 probably from a suspicion that if recalled I would have 
 essayed the same song. This is unjust ! I have another 
 in reserve for such an occasion, if it ever happen. The 
 words are different, although the tune may be some- 
 what similar. When I like a tune I stick to it, more or 
 less, and when there are fine touches in several tunes I 
 have been credited with an eclectic disposition. How- 
 ever this may be, there was never time upon our coach
 
 42 Four-in-Ha7id in Britain. 
 
 for anything which called our eyes and our attention 
 from the rapid succession of pretty cottages, fine flow- 
 ers, the birds and lowing herds, the grand lights and 
 grander shadows of that uncertain fleecy sky, the luxu- 
 riance of the verdure, flower}' dells and dewy meads, 
 and the hundred surprising beauties that make England 
 England. 
 
 These bind us captive and drive from the mind 
 every thought of anything but the full and intense 
 enjoyment of the present hour ; and this comes without 
 thought. Forgetful of the past, regardless of the fu- 
 ture, from morn till night, it is one uninterrupted season 
 of pure and unalloyed joyousness. Never were the 
 words of the old Scotch song as timely as now : 
 
 "The present moment is our ain, 
 The neist we never see."' 
 
 Having got the party fairly started, let me tell you 
 something of our general arrangements for the cam- 
 paign. The coach, horses, and servants are engaged at 
 a stipulated sum per week, which includes their travel- 
 ling expenses. We have nothing to do with their bills 
 or arrangements, neither are we in any wise responsible 
 for accidents to the property. Ever}* one of the party 
 is allowed a small hand-bag and a strap package ; the 
 former contains necessary* articles for daily use, the lat- 
 ter waterproofs, shawls, shoes, etc. The Gay Chariot- 
 eers march with supplies for one week. The trunks
 
 Luncheon. 43 
 
 are forwarded every week to the point where we are to 
 spend the succeeding Sunday, so that every Saturday 
 evening we replenish our wardrobe, and at the Sunday 
 dinner appear in full dress, making a difference be- 
 tween that and other days. This we found well worth 
 observing, for our Sunday evenings were thereby made 
 somewhat unusual affairs. In no case did any failure 
 of this plan occur, nor were we ever put to the slightest 
 inconvenience about clothing. Our hotel accommoda- 
 tions were secured by telegraph. The General Manager 
 had engaged these for our first week's stage, previous 
 to our start. 
 
 The question of luncheon soon came to the front, 
 for should we be favored with fine weather, much of 
 the poetry and romance of the journey was sure to 
 cluster round the midday halt. It was by a process of 
 natural selection that she who had proved her genius 
 for making salads on many occasions during the voyage 
 should be unanimously appointed to fill the important 
 position of stewardess, and given full and unlimited 
 control of the hampers. Our stewardess only lived up 
 to a well-deserved reputation by surprising us day after 
 day with luncheons far excelling any dinner. Two 
 coaching hampers, very complete affairs, were obtained 
 in London. These the stewardess saw filled at the inn 
 even' morning with the best the country could afford, 
 under her personal supervision, a labor of love. Our 
 Pard's sweet tooth led him to many early excursions
 
 44 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 before breakfast in quest of sweets and flowers for 
 us. Aleck was butler, and upon him we placed implicit 
 reliance, and with excellent reason too, for the essential 
 corkscrew and the use thereof — which may be rated as 
 of prime necessity upon such a tour — and Aleck never 
 failed us as superintendent of the bottles. 
 
 It was in obedience to the strictest tenets of our 
 civil sen-ice reform association that the most important 
 appointment of all was made with a unanimity which 
 must ever be flattering to the distinguished gentleman 
 who received the highly responsible appointment of 
 General Manager. Just here let me say, for the peace 
 of mind of any gentleman who may be tempted to try 
 the coaching experiment upon a large scale, and for an 
 extended tour : . unless you have a dear friend with 
 
 a clear head, an angelic disposition, a great big heart, 
 and the tact essential for governing, who for your sake 
 is willing to relieve you from the cares incident to such 
 a tour — that is, if you expect to enjoy it as a recrea- 
 tion, and have something that will linger forever after in 
 the memory as an adventure in wonderland. Should 
 you however be one of those rare men who have a real 
 liking for details, and so conceited as to think that you 
 never get things done so well as when your own genius 
 superintends them, being in this respect the antipode 
 of a modest man like myself — who never does by any 
 chance find any one who can so completely bungle mat- 
 ters as himself — it may of course be different. As for
 
 Grouping. 45 
 
 me, the very first inquiry I shall make of myself when I 
 am about to take the road again — as pray heaven I may 
 some day, and that ere long — will be this: Now who 
 can I get for Prime Minister, one who will like to gov- 
 ern and allow me to laugh and frolic with the party 
 without a care ? The position of a king in a constitu- 
 tional monarchy is the very ideal for a chief to emulate. 
 It is delightful to feel so very certain that one " can do 
 no wrong," even if infallibility be obtained, as Queen 
 Victoria's is, because she is no longer allowed to do 
 anything. Such was the case with the Scribe during 
 the Coaching Tour. Happy man ! 
 
 There must always be a tendency toward grouping 
 in a large party : groups of four or five, and in extreme 
 cases a group of two ; and especially is this so when 
 married people, cousins or dear friends, are of the com- 
 pany. To prevent anything like this, and insure our 
 being one united party, I asked the gentlemen not to 
 occupy the same seat twice in succession — a rule which 
 gave the ladies a different companion at each meal, and 
 a change upon the coach several times each day. This 
 was understood to apply in a general way to our strolls, 
 although in this case the General Manager, with rare 
 discretion, winked at many infringements, which insured 
 him grateful constituents of both sexes. Young people 
 should never be held too strictly to such rules, and a 
 chaperon's duties, as we all know, are often most suc- 
 cessfully performed by a wise and salutary neglect.
 
 46 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 Our General Manager and even the Queen Dowager 
 were considerate. 
 
 We generally started about half-past nine in the 
 morning, half an hour earlier or later as the day's jour- 
 ney was to be long or short ; and here let me record, 
 to the credit of all, that not in any instance had we 
 ever to wait for any of the party beyond the five min- 
 utes allowed upon all well managed lines for " variation 
 of watches." The horn sounded, and we were off 
 through the crowds which were usually around the 
 hotel door awaiting the start. Nor even at meals were 
 we less punctual or less mindful of the comfort of 
 others. I had indeed a model party in every way, and 
 in none more praiseworthy than in this, that the Chari- 
 oteers were always "on time." The Prima Donna's 
 explanation may have reason in it : " Who wouldn't be 
 ready and waiting to mount the coach ! I'd as soon 
 be late, and a good deal sooner, maybe, for my wed- 
 ding : and as for meals, there was even a better reason 
 why we were always ready then : we couldn't wait." 
 We did indeed eat like hawks, especially at luncheon — 
 a real boy's hunger — the ravenous gnawing after a day 
 at the sea gathering whilks. I thought this had left 
 me, but that with many another characteristic of glori- 
 ous youth came once more to make daft callants of us. 
 O those days ! those happy, happy days ! Can they 
 be brought back once more? Will a second coaching 
 trip do it ? I would be off next summer. But one
 
 Aristocratic Gypsies. 47 
 
 hesitates to put his luck to the test a second time, lest 
 the perfect image of the first be marred. We shall 
 see. 
 
 During the evening we had learned the next day's 
 stage — where we were to stay over night, and, what is 
 almost as important, in what pretty nook we were to 
 rest at midday ; on the banks of what classic stream or 
 wimpling burn, or in what shady, moss-covered dell. 
 Several people of note in the neighborhood dropped 
 into the inn, as a rule, to see the American coaching 
 party, whose arrival in the village had made as great a 
 stir as if it were the advance show-wagon of Barnum's 
 menagerie. From these the best route and objects of 
 interest to be seen could readily be obtained. The 
 ordnance maps which we carried kept us from trouble 
 about the right roads; not only this, they gave us the 
 name of every estate we passed, and of its owner. 
 
 The horses have to be considered in selecting a 
 luncheon-place, which should be near an inn, where 
 they can be baited. This was rarely inconvenient ; but 
 upon a few occasions, when the choice spot was in some 
 glen or secluded place, we took oats along, and our 
 horses were none the worse off for nibbling the road- 
 side grass and drinking from the brook. Nor did the 
 party look less like the aristocratic Gypsies they felt 
 themselves to be from having their coach standing on 
 the moor or in the glen, and the horses picketed near 
 by, as if we were just the true-born Gypsies. And
 
 4S Four-iii-Ha7id in Britain. 
 
 was there ever a band of Gypsies happier than we, or 
 freer from care? Didn't we often dash off in a roar: 
 
 '* See ! the smoking bowl before us, 
 
 Mark our jovial ragged ring ! 
 Round and round take up the chorus, 
 
 And in raptures let us sing. 
 A fig for those by law protected ! 
 
 L erty's a glorious feast ! 
 Courts for cowards were erected, 
 
 Churches built to please the pries:." 
 
 Halt ! Ho for luncheon ! Steps, Joe. Yes, sir ! 
 The committee of two dismount and select the choicest 
 little bit of sward for the table. It is not too warm, 
 still we will not refuse the shade of a noble chestnut or 
 fragrant birk, or the side of a tall hedge, on which lie, 
 in one magnificent bed, masses of honeysuckle, over 
 which nod, upon graceful sprays, hundreds of the pret- 
 tiest wild roses, and at whose foot grow the foxglove 
 and wandering willie. 
 
 It is no easy matter to decide which piece of the 
 velvety lawn is finest ; but here come Joe and Perry 
 with armfuls of rugs to the chosen spot. The rugs are 
 spread two lengthwise a few feet apart, and one across 
 at the top and bottom, leaving for the table in the cen- 
 tre the fine clovered turf with buttercups and daisies 
 pied. The ladies have gathered such handfuls of wild 
 flowers ! How fresh, how unaffected, and how far 
 beyond the more pretentious bouquets which grace our
 
 Wild Flowers. 49 
 
 city dinners ! These are Nature's own clear children, 
 fresh from her lap, besprinkled with the dews of heaven, 
 unconscious of their charms. How touchingly beauti- 
 ful are the wild flowers ! real friends are they, close to 
 our hearts, while those of the conservatory stand out- 
 side, fashionable acquaintances only. 
 
 Give us the wild flowers, and take your prize varie- 
 ties ; for does not even Tennyson (a good deal of a cul- 
 tivated flower himself) sing thus of the harshest of them 
 all, though to a Scotsman sacred beyond all other veg- 
 etation : 
 
 " the stubborn thistle bursting 1 
 
 Into glossy purples, which outredden 
 
 All voluptuous garden roses." 
 
 And in that wonder of our generation, the " Light of 
 Asia," it is no garden beauties who are addressed •• 
 
 " Oh, flowers of the field ! Siddartha said, 
 Who turn your tender faces to the sun — 
 Glad of the light, and grateful with sweet breath 
 Of fragrance and these robes of reverence donned, 
 Silver and gold and purple — none of ye 
 Miss perfect living, none of ye despoil 
 Your happy beauty. . . . 
 What secret know ye that ye grow content, 
 From time of tender shoot to time of fruit, 
 Murmuring such sun-songs from your feathered crowns ? " 
 
 You may be sure that while in Scotland old Scotia's 
 
 dear emblem, and that most graceful of all flowers, the 
 4
 
 50 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 Scottish bluebell, towered over our bouquets, and 
 that round them clustered the others less known to 
 fame. 
 
 It was an easy matter to tie the flowers round sticks 
 and press these into the soft lawn, and then there was a 
 table for you — equal it who can ! Round this the 
 travellers range themselves upon the rugs, sometimes 
 finding in back to back an excellent support, for they 
 sat long at table ; and see at the head — for it's the head 
 wherever she sits — the Queen Dowager is comfortably 
 seated upon the smaller of the two hampers. The 
 larger placed on end before her gives her a private 
 table : she has an excellent seat, befitting her dignity. 
 Joe and Perry have put the horses up at the inn, and 
 are back with mugs of foaming ale, bottles of Devon- 
 shire cider, lemonade, and pitchers of fresh creamy 
 milk, that all tastes may be suited. The stewardess 
 and her assistants have set table, and now luncheon 
 is ready. No formal grace is necessary, for our hearts 
 have been overflowing with gratitude all the day long 
 for the blessed happiness showered upon us. We owe 
 no man a grudge, harbor no evil, have forgiven all our 
 enemies, if we have any — for we doubt the existence of 
 enemies, being ourselves the enemy of none. Our 
 hearts open to embrace all things, both great and 
 small ; we are only sorry that so much is given to us, so 
 little to many of our more deserving fellow-creatures. 
 Truly, the best grace this, before meat or after !
 
 Good Appetites. 51 
 
 " He prayeth best who loveth best 
 All things both great and small ; 
 For the dear God who loveth us, 
 He made and loveth all." 
 
 In these days we feel for the Deevil himself, and 
 wish with Burns that he would take a thought and 
 mend; and, as Howells says, " if we had the naming of 
 creation we wouldn't call snakes snakes " if the christen- 
 ing took place while we were coaching. 
 
 No one would believe what fearful appetites driving 
 in this climate gives one. Shall we ever feel such 
 tigerish hunger again ! but, what is just as important, 
 shall we ever again have such luncheons ! " Give me a 
 sixpence," said the beggar to the duke, " for I have 
 nothing." "You lie, you beggar; I'd give a thousand 
 pounds for such an appetite as you've got." Well, 
 ours would have been cheap to you, my lord duke, at 
 double the money. What a roar it caused one day 
 when one of the young ladies was discovered quietly 
 taking the third slice of cold ham. " Well, girls, you 
 must remember I was on the front seat, and had to 
 stand the brunt of the weather this morning." Capital ! 
 I had been there at her side, and got my extra allow- 
 ance on the same ground ; and those who bore the brunt 
 of the weather claimed a great many second and even 
 third allowances during the journey. 
 
 Aleck (Adleck, not El-eck, remember), set the table 
 in a roar so often with his funny sayings and doings
 
 ^ 2 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 that it would fill the record were I to recount them, but 
 one comes to mind as I write which was a great hit. 
 
 A temperance — no, a total abstinence lady rebuked 
 him once for taking a second or third glass of some- 
 thing, telling him that he should try to conquer his 
 liking for it, and assuring him that if he would only re- 
 sist the Devil he would flee from him. " I know," said 
 the wag (and with such a comical, good-natured ex- 
 pression), " that is what the good book says, Mrs. , 
 
 but I have generally found that I was the fellow who 
 had to get ." You couldn't corner Aaleck. 
 
 Although we were coaching, it must not be thought 
 that we neglected the pleasures of walking. No, indeed, 
 we had our daily strolls. Sometimes the pedestrians 
 started in advance of the coach from the inn or the 
 luncheon ground, and walked until overtaken, and at 
 other times we would jdismount some miles before we 
 reached the end of the day's journey, and walk into the 
 village. This was a favorite plan, as we found by 
 arriving later than the main body our rooms were 
 ready and all the friends in our general sitting-room 
 standing to welcome us. 
 
 Hills upon the route were always hailed as giving us 
 an opportunity for a walk or a stroll, and all the sport 
 derivable from a happy party in country lanes. It was 
 early June, quite near enough to 
 
 " The flowery May who from her green lap throws 
 The yellow cowslip and the pale primrose,"
 
 Pleasures of Walking. 53 
 
 and the hundreds of England's wild beauties with 
 
 *' quaint enamell'd eyes, 
 That on the green turf suck the honeyed showers, 
 And purple all the ground with vernal flowers." 
 
 Many a time was Perry instructed to wait for us 
 at the foot of the hill, or a mile or two in advance, 
 while we spent the happy intervals in examining still 
 closer than it was possible to do while driving the 
 beauties which captivated us at every turn. The pleas- 
 ures of walking set against those of coaching might 
 well furnish matter for an evening's debate. Combined, 
 as they were with us, the result was perfection, for they 
 are indeed upon such a tour the complement of each 
 other. If ever weary of the coach — which we never 
 were — nothing like a walk along the hedge-rows as a 
 substitute, with many a run into out-of-the-way paths, 
 which tempted us by their loveliness, and many a 
 minute stolen to explore the windings of the brooks 
 we passed. I often felt that one of the prettiest 
 pictures I had ever seen was that of our own party 
 scattered about some bosky dell in the way I have de- 
 scribed, while the towering coach-and-four stood out 
 clear against the sky upon the hilltop, waiting for us 
 to tear ourselves away from scenes among which we 
 would linger till the daylight had passed. Let no one 
 fail while coaching to work this mine of pure happi- 
 ness to the full.
 
 54 Foiw-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 We carried perpetual flowering summer with us as 
 we travelled from south to north, plucking the wild 
 roses and the honeysuckles from the hedges near 
 Brighton, never missing their sweet influences, and 
 finding them ready to welcome us at Inverness, 
 - .en weeks later, as if they had waited till our ap- 
 proach to burst forth in their beauty in kindly greeting 
 
 their kinsmen from over the sea. A dancing, laugh- 
 ing welcome did the wild flowers of my native land 
 give to us, God bless them ! 
 
 On our arrival at the inn for the night, the General 
 Manager examined the rooms and assigned them ; Joe 
 and Perry handed over the bags to the servants ; the 
 party went direct to their general sitting-room, and in 
 a few minutes were taken to their rooms, where all was 
 ready for them. The two American flags were placed 
 upon the mantel of the sitting-room, in which there was 
 always a piano, and we sat down to dinner a happy 
 band. 
 
 The long twilight and the gloaming in Scotland 
 gave us two hours after dinner to see the place ; and 
 after our return an hour of musical entertainment was 
 generally enjoyed, and we were off to bed to sleep the 
 sound, refreshing sleep of childhood's innocent days. 
 The duties of the General Manager, however, required 
 his attendance down stairs ; he had to-morrow's route 
 to learn and the landlord or landlady, as the case might 
 be, to see. Some of the male members of the party
 
 Coaching Weather. 55 
 
 were not loath to assist in this business, and I have 
 
 heard many a story of the pranks played by them — for 
 
 several of my friends are not unlike the piper, " Rory 
 
 Murphy," 
 
 "Who had of good auld sangs the wale 
 To please the wives that brewed good ale ; 
 He charmed the swats frae cog and pail 
 As he cam through Dumbarton." 
 
 Xo doubt the landlord's laugh was ready chorus, 
 and the Gay Charioteers of this department, I make 
 bold to say, tasted most of the " far ben " barrels of 
 every landlord or landlady in their way northward. 
 The question of the weather occurs to every one. " If 
 you have a dry season, it may be done ; if a wet one, 
 I doubt it," was the opinion of one of my wisest friends 
 in Britain. We were surprisingly fortunate in this re- 
 spect. Only one day did we suffer seriously from rain. 
 A gentle shower fell now and then to cool the air and lay 
 the dust, or rather to prevent the dust, and seemingly 
 to recreate vegetation. Who wouldn't bear a shower, if 
 properly supplied with waterproofs and umbrellas, for 
 the fresh glory revealed thereafter. Only a continual 
 downpour for days could hav*e dampened the ardor of 
 the Gay Charioteers. Good coaching weather may be 
 expected in June and July, if one may indulge any 
 weather anticipations in England. After we left the 
 deluge came ; nothing but rain during August and 
 September, at least such was the report — but the con-
 
 56 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 veniences of living are so great and the discomforts so 
 few in England that I incline to the opinion, especially 
 when I take into consideration the well-known tendency 
 of the islanders to grumble, that far too much is made 
 out of the so-called bad weather. We had a curious 
 illustration of this. One day we heard some rumbling 
 sounds which would scarcely pass with us for thunder, 
 and we were amused next morning to read in the news- 
 papers of the terrific thunder-storm which had passed 
 over the district. All things are gentle and well be- 
 haved in this sober, steady-going, conservative land. 
 Even Jove himself " roars you as mildly as a sucking 
 dove." Pluvius, too, is less terrible than he is painted, 
 though the green, green grass, the smiling hedgerows, 
 the luxuriant vegetation everywhere tells of a moist 
 nature and a disposition to weep at short intervals ; but 
 the rain comes gently down as if all the while begging 
 your pardon and explaining that it couldn't possibly 
 help it, the sky being unable to keep it any longer in 
 its overburdened bosom. Strong, thick shoes, one pair 
 in reserve, and overshoes for the ladies, heavy woollen 
 clothing — under and over — a waterproof, an umbrella, 
 and a felt hat that won't spoil — these rendered us al- 
 most independent of the weather and prepared us to 
 encounter the worst ever predicted of the British cli- 
 mate ; and this is saying a great deal, for the natives 
 do grumble inordinately about it. As I have said, 
 however, our travelling was never put to a severe test.
 
 Wayside Inns. 57 
 
 England and Scotland smiled upon the coaching party, 
 and compelled us all to fall deeply in love with their 
 unrivalled charms. We thought that even in tears this 
 blessed isle must still be enchanting. 
 
 The same horses (with one exception) took us 
 through from Brighton to Inverness. This has sur- 
 prised some horsemen here, but little do they know of 
 the roads and climate, or of Perry's care. Our average 
 distance, omitting days when we rested, was thirty-two 
 miles, and horses will actually improve on such a jour- 
 ney, as ours did, if not pushed too fast and not forced 
 to pull beyond their strength up steep hills. The 
 continual desire of most of our party to dismount and 
 enjoy a walk gave our horses a light coach where the 
 road was such as to bring them to a walk, and they 
 were actually in better condition after the journey than 
 when we started. 
 
 For luncheon, " good my liege, all place a temple 
 and all seasons summer," but for lodgings and entertain- 
 ment for man and beast, how did we manage these ? 
 Shall we not take our ease in our inn ? and shall not 
 mine host of The Garter, ay and mine hostess too, 
 prove the most obliging of people ? I do not suppose 
 that it would be possible to find in any other country 
 such delightful inns at every stage of such a journey. 
 Among many pretty objects upon which memory lov- 
 ingly rests, these little wayside inns stand prominently 
 forward. The very names carry one back to quaint days
 
 58 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 of old : " The Lamb and Lark," " The Wheat Sheaf," 
 " The Barley Mow." Oh, you fat wight ! your inn was 
 in Eastcheap, but in your march through Coventry, 
 when you wouldn't go with your scarecrows, it was to 
 some wayside inn you went, you rogue, with its trailing 
 vines, thatched roof, and pretty garden flower-pots in 
 the windows ; and upon such excursions it was, too, 
 that you acquired that love of nature which enabled 
 the master with six words to cover most that was un- 
 unsavory in your character, and hand you down to gen- 
 erations unborn, shrived and absolved. Dear old boy — 
 whom one would like to have known — for after all you 
 were right, Jack : " If Adam fell in an age of innocency, 
 what was poor Jack FalstafT to do in an age of vil- 
 lainy ! " There was something pure and good at bot- 
 tom of one who left us after life's vanities were o'er 
 playing with flowers and " babbling o' green fields." 
 These country hostelries are redolent of the green 
 fields. It is in such we would take our ease in our inn. 
 The host, hostess, and servants assembled at the door 
 upon our arrival, and welcomed us to their home, as 
 they also do when we leave to bid us God-speed. We 
 mount and drive off with smiles, bows, and wavings of 
 the hands from them ; and surely the smiles and good 
 wishes of those who have done so much to promote our 
 comfort over night are no bad salute for us as we blow 
 our horn and start on the fresh dewy mornings upon 
 our day's journey.
 
 British Honesty. 59 
 
 The scrupulous care bestowed upon us and our be- 
 longings by the innkeepers excited remark. Not one 
 article was lost of the fifty packages, great and small, 
 required by fifteen persons. It was not even practicable 
 to get rid of any trifling article which had served its 
 purpose ; old gloves, or discarded brushes quietly 
 stowed away in some drawer or other would be handed 
 to us at the next stage, having been sent by express by 
 these careful, honest people. It was a great and inter- 
 esting occasion, as the reporters say, when the stowed- 
 away pair of old slippers which she had purposely left, 
 were delivered to one of our ladies with a set speech 
 after dinner one evening. Little did she suspect what 
 was contained in the nice package which had been for- 
 warded. Our cast-off things were veritable devil's 
 ducats which would return to plague us. To the 
 grandest feature of the Briton's character, the love of 
 truth, let one more cardinal virtue be added — his down- 
 right honesty. More Englishmen of all ranks, high and 
 low, in proportion to population, will escape conviction 
 upon two counts of the general indictment, " Thou 
 shalt not bear false witness," and " Thou shalt not 
 steal," than those of any other nationality ; but upon 
 a collateral count a larger proportion of Englishmen 
 of position will have difficulty in clearing themselves 
 than of any other race of which I have knowledge ; for 
 while the true Briton will tell the truth, if he has to 
 speak at all, he will conceal his honest convictions
 
 60 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 upon social and political subjects to such an extent in 
 public as to seem to you almost hypocritical when com- 
 pared with what he will say freely in private. The 
 M. P. of the smoking room of the House of Commons 
 and the same man on the floor of the House, for in- 
 stance, are two distinct personages, for it is understood 
 that whatever is said below is to be above as if unsaid. 
 I have often wondered how they merge the one char- 
 acter into the other when the day's words and acts 
 come under review ere the eyes close in sleep — there is 
 such a miserable fear in the breast of the free-born 
 Briton that he will in an unguarded moment say some- 
 thing which he feels to be true, but which society will 
 not think "good form." The great difference between 
 a Radical and a Liberal in England is, it seems to me, 
 that the one holds the same opinions in public and in 
 private, while the other has two sets of opinions, the one 
 for public, the other for private use. The maintenance 
 of old forms, from which the life has passed out, is no 
 doubt the real cause of this phase of English political 
 life, apparently so inconsistent with the Saxon love of 
 truth ; one sham requires many shams for its support. 
 
 We all have our special weaknesses as to the articles 
 we leave behind at hotels. Mine is well known ; but I 
 smile as I write at the cleverness shown in preventing 
 my lapses during the excursion from coming before the 
 congregation. It was a wary eye which was kept upon 
 forwarded parcels, mark you, and not once was I pre-
 
 Wild Flowers. 61 
 
 sented with a left article. The eleventh commandment 
 is, not to be found out. 
 
 With these general observations we shall not " leave 
 the subject with you," but, retracing our steps to the 
 hills overlooking Brighton, we shall mount the coach 
 waiting there for us at the King's Cross Inn ; for you 
 remember we dismounted there while the horses were 
 watered for the first time. Ten miles of bewildering 
 pleasure had brought us here ; some of us pushed for- 
 ward and had our first stroll, but we scattered in a 
 minute, for who could resist the flowers which tempted 
 us at every step! The roses were just in season; the 
 honeysuckle, ragged robin, meadow sweet, wandering 
 willie, and who can tell how many others whose familiar 
 names are household words. What bouquets we gath- 
 ered, what exclamations of delight were heard as one 
 mass of beauty after another burst upon our sight ! We 
 began to realize that Paradise lay before us, began to 
 know that we had discovered the rarest plan upon earth 
 for pleasure ; as for duty that was not within our hori- 
 zon. We scarcely knew there was work to do. An 
 echo of a moan from the weary world we had cast be- 
 hind was not heard. Divinest melancholy was out of 
 favor; II Penseroso was discarded for the time, and 
 L'Allegro, the happier goddess, crowned, bringing in 
 her train — 
 
 " Sport, that wrinkled Care derides, 
 And Laughter, holding both his sides;
 
 62 Fonr-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 Come and trip it as you go, 
 On the light, fantastic toe." 
 
 That does not quite express it, for there was time 
 for momentary pauses now and then, when the heart 
 swelled with gratitude. We were so grateful for being 
 so blessed. It was during this stroll that Emma came 
 quietly to my side, slipped her arm in mine, and said in 
 that rich, velvety English voice which we all envy her : 
 " Oh, Andrew, when I am to go home you will have to 
 tell me plainly, for indeed I shall never be able to leave 
 this of my own accord. I haven't been as happy since 
 I was a young girl." " Do you really think you could 
 go all the way to Inverness?" "Oh, I could go on 
 this way forever." " All right, my lady, ' check your 
 baggage through,' as we say in Yankeedom ; " and never 
 did that woman lose sight of the coach till it was torn 
 away from her at Inverness. 
 
 Some of us dismounted before reaching Horsham, 
 and went in pursuit of adventure. In an old tan-yard 
 by the wayside, where mon were making leather in the 
 crude, old-fashioned way, with horses instead of a steam 
 engine for the motive power, we had our first conversa- 
 tion with the British rural workman, whose weekly 
 earnings do not exceed $3.50. Now, this was not more 
 than thirty miles from London, and only twenty-one 
 from the sea at Brighton, and yet the oldest man of 
 the party, who was the most talkative, had never seen 
 the sea. He had been in London once, during the
 
 Rip Van Winkles. 63 
 
 great Exhibition in 185 1, having been treated to the 
 journey by his employer ; but his brother, who lived 
 only a few miles beyond, had never been in a railway 
 carnage. Their old master had died recently and had 
 left a pound ($5) to every workman who had been 
 with him for a certain number of years — I think ten. 
 Good old master ! The owners had new-fangled no- 
 tions, he said, and were spending " heaps o' money " in 
 building a steam engine which was not yet ready, but 
 which he invited us to go and see. This was to do the 
 work much faster ; but (with a shake of the head) " I've 
 'earn tell by some as knows it's na sae gid for the 
 leather." 
 
 Could we really be within an hour's ride of the cap- 
 ital of the world, and yet in the midst of a Sleepy 
 Hollow like this, peopled by Rip van Winkles ! This 
 incident gives a just idea of the tenacity with which 
 the English hold to what their fathers did before them. 
 This man's father could not have seen the sea at 
 Brighton, nor have visited London short of spending 
 a week's earnings. His successor goes along as his 
 father did — what was good enough for his father is 
 good enough for him, 
 
 " Chained to one spot, 
 They draw nutrition, propagate and rot." 
 
 But the next generation is to see all this changed, for 
 even southern England is under the compulsory educa-
 
 64 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 tion act, and the rural population is to have the political 
 franchise and a voice in the election of county boards. 
 
 At Horsham we lunched at the King's Arms, walked 
 about its principal square, and were off again for Guild- 
 ford. As we leave the sea the soil becomes richer, and 
 ere we reach Horsham we say, yes, this is England in- 
 deed ; but I forgot we passed through the Weald of 
 Sussex before reaching Horsham. The cloudy sky cast 
 deep shadows with the sunbeams over the rich, wooded 
 landscape, as no clear blue sky has power to do, and 
 brought to my mind Mrs. Browning's lines : 
 
 ..." my woods in Sussex have some purple shades at gloaming, 
 
 Which are worthy of a king in state, or poet in his youth. 
 
 * * ******* 
 
 Oh, the blessed woods of Sussex, I can hear them still around me, 
 
 With their leafy tide of greenery still rippling up the wind ! '' 
 
 And many a stately home did we see, fit for her " who 
 spake such good thoughts natural." 
 
 Mrs. Browning is said to have written Lady Gerald- 
 ine in a few hours, lying upon a sofa. This is one of 
 the proofs cited that genius does its work as if by inspi- 
 ration, without great effort. What nonsense ! The 
 Agave Americana bursts into flower in a day ; but, look 
 you, a hundred years of quiet, unceasing growth, which 
 stopped not night nor day, was the period of labor pre- 
 ceding the miracle — a hundred years, during all of 
 which it drank of the sunshine and the dews. Scott 
 wrote some of his best works in a few weeks, but
 
 Guildford. 65 
 
 for a lifetime he never flagged in his work of gathering 
 the fruits of song and story. Burns dashed off " A 
 man's a man for a' that " in a jiffy. Yes, but for how- 
 many years were his very heartstrings tingling and his 
 blood boiling at the injustice of hereditary rank ! His 
 life is in that song, not a few hours of it. 
 
 Guildford, June 17. 
 The approach to Guildford gives us our first real 
 perfect English lane — so narrow and so bound in by 
 towering hedgerows worthy the name. Had we met 
 a vehicle at some of the prettiest turns there would 
 have been trouble, for, although the lane is not quite as 
 narrow as the pathway of the auld brig, where two 
 wheelbarrows trembled as they met, yet a four-in-hand 
 upon an English lane requires a clear track. Vegeta- 
 tion near Guildford is luxuriant enough to meet our 
 expectations of England. It was at the White Lion 
 we halted, and here came our first experience of quar- 
 ters for the night. The first dinner en route was a 
 decided success in our fine sitting-room, the American 
 flags, brought into requisition for the first time to dec- 
 orate the mantel, bringing to all sweet memories of 
 home. During our stroll to-day we stopped at a small 
 village inn before which pretty roses grew, hanging in 
 clusters upon its sides. It was a very small and hum- 
 ble inn indeed, the tile floors sanded, and the furniture 
 of the tap-room only plain wood — there were no chairs, 
 5
 
 66 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 only benches around the table where the hinds sit at 
 night, drinking home-brewed beer, smoking their clay 
 pipes, and discussing not the political affairs of the 
 nation, but the affairs of their little world, bounded by 
 the hall at one end of the estate, and the parsonage 
 at the other. The merits of the gray mare, or the 
 qualities of the last breed of sheep at the home farm, 
 or the new-fangled plough which the squire has been 
 rash enough to order. The landlady told us that she 
 had recently moved from one of the midland towns 
 to this village to secure purer air for the children, who 
 had not been thriving well. Her husband was a 
 gardener and worked for the squire. Two pretty little 
 girls were brought in for us to see, true Saxons, with 
 blue eyes and light colored hair, but with less color 
 in their sweet innocent faces than usual — the result 
 of dirty, crowded Leeds, no doubt — but soon to be 
 changed by the country air. The eldest girl could 
 not have been more than six or seven years old, but 
 when she was given a few pence she went to the next 
 room and brought a sheet of paper upon which were 
 pasted some penny postage stamps. She was going at 
 once to the post office to buy more stamps with her 
 pennies. On inquiring we learned that the Post Office 
 Department receives deposits of a shilling in stamps 
 and allows two and a half per cent, interest I think, 
 upon them, and "the squire" God bless him! had 
 promised all the children upon his estates, which I trust
 
 A Generous Squire. 67 
 
 were vast, that whenever they saved eleven stamps he 
 would give the last one to complete the shilling. In 
 this way he hopes to instil into the young the impor- 
 tance of beginning early to save something for a rainy 
 day. The still younger girl had also her stamp paper. 
 The English are an improvident race, not given to 
 denying themselves to-day that they may feast later 
 on. " Do not put off till to-morrow what can be done 
 to-day " is generally construed to mean, that the cake 
 may as well be eaten at once, so that upon the whole 
 we were not displeased to see these children trained to 
 accumulate ; but nevertheless it did seem pitiful that 
 the dear little lambs, instead of sporting without a care, 
 should have so early to learn that life is to the mass 
 mainly a struggle for subsistence. Civilization is a fail- 
 ure till all this be changed. What a pity the name 
 and address of that squire are mislaid. He evidently 
 feels that property has its duties as well as its rights. 
 The village and the inn and all the surroundings 
 showed that the Hall was, in this instance, as it is 
 in so many others, the centre and source of good influ- 
 ences. " He has a good wife and earnest thinking and 
 working daughters," said one of the party. Surely he 
 has and they do their part or he could not succeed. It 
 was quite safe to infer this, was the verdict. Man is 
 a poor agency for such work, left to himself. It needs 
 woman's patience and glowing sympathy to work im- 
 provement in the manners and customs of the rural
 
 68 Four-in-Hand in Britain* 
 
 population. Man may supply the money, which cor- 
 responds only to barren faith among the virtues ; it is 
 to woman we must look for the harvest — good works. 
 
 When we remounted the coach, one regret found 
 loud expression, and as the Scribe writes to-day, he 
 wishes the omission could be remedied. Why did not 
 we give these children a shilling each, with strict injunc- 
 tions to gorge themselves with taffy and gingerbread, 
 not a penny of it to be saved. A regular spree regard- 
 less of consequences ! " Oh ! it would have made them 
 ill," said one. Well, suppose it did, just think of the 
 legacy left them, a dream for years that they had been 
 brought to death's door by too much taffy ! Why, 
 the sweet taste would have lingered in the pretty 
 little mouths till womanhood, and they would have 
 thought about their illness as Conn in the Shaughraun 
 did about his month in jail for taking the squire's 
 horse for a run with the hounds : " Begorra ! it was 
 worth it ! " 
 
 It might have given them a taste for dissipation, and 
 they would have ceased to gather stamps, and turned 
 out badly, was the next suggestion. This was seem- 
 ingly agreed to by the majority, but there was one who 
 wished he had secretly conveyed to the cherubs, at least 
 a six-pence each to be entirely devoted to gormandizing. 
 " Take care of your pence and the pounds will take care 
 of themselves," the Queen Dowager remarked, is one 
 
 * 
 
 of Ben Franklin's wisest proverbs. There was one at
 
 Franklins Proverb. 69 
 
 least of her children who had good reason to re- 
 member that favorite axiom. During his temporary 
 absence from school, good Mr. Martin had instituted 
 a rule that each one in the class should repeat a prov- 
 erb before the lessons began. Her offspring was at the 
 foot of the class, from absence it is to be hoped, and as 
 each boy and girl spoke his proverb (they were taught 
 together in those days, much to the advantage of both 
 sexes, for who wanted to be a dunce before pretty 
 and clever A. R.) they had an unfamiliar sound, but 
 when his turn came he innocently gave them his moth- 
 er's favorite from Franklin. It was like introducing a 
 strange dog into a crowded church. After the uproar 
 had subsided, the teacher said that while it was no 
 doubt a very good proverb, it was not just in place 
 among the sacred proverbs of Solomon. Another story 
 was related of one of the Charioteers who, when told 
 that he ought to sing when the others did in church, 
 struck up, at the top of his shrill piping voice, " Come 
 under my plaidie, the night's going to fa' ; " when the 
 congregation began the Psalm. His uncle was so con- 
 vulsed that, notwithstanding the angry glances of many 
 near him, he could not stop the performance in time 
 to prevent an unseemly interruption. 
 
 We had done our first day's coaching, and a long 
 day at that, and looking back it is amusing to remem- 
 ber how anxiously we awaited the reports of the ladies 
 of our party ; for it was not without grave apprehension
 
 jo Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 that some must fall by the wayside, as it were, as we 
 journeyed on. One who had tried coaching upon this 
 side had informed us that few ladies could stand it ; 
 but it was very evident that the spirits and appetites of 
 ours were entirely satisfactory, and they all laughed at 
 the idea that they could not go on forever. The Queen 
 Dowager was quite as fresh as any. It was a shame 
 that general orders consigned to bed at an early hour 
 two of the ladies thought least robust, while the others 
 walked about the suburbs of Guildford until late. 
 We stood in the thickening twilight in front of an ivy- 
 clad residence for some time, and asked each other 
 if anything so exquisite had ever been seen, so full 
 of rest, of home. The next morning all were fresh 
 and happy, without a trace of fatigue — full of yester- 
 day, and quite sure that no other day could equal it. 
 But this was often said : many and many a day was 
 voted the finest yet, only to be eclipsed in its turn by a 
 later, till at last an effort to name our best day led to 
 twenty selections, and ended in the general conclusion 
 that it was impossible to say which had crowded within 
 its hours the rarest treat, for none had all the finest, 
 neither did any lack something of the best. But there 
 is one point upon which a unanimous verdict can 
 always be had from the Gay Charioteers, that to 
 such days in the mass none but themselves can be 
 their parallel. 
 
 We ran into a book-shop in the morning and obtained
 
 Cobbett' f s Opinion. 71 
 
 a local guide-book, that we might cull for you the proper 
 quotations therefrom. It consists of 148 pages, mostly- 
 given up to notices of the titled people who visited the 
 old town long ago ; but who cares about them? Here, 
 however, is something of more interest than all those no- 
 bodies. Cobbett says of Guildford, in his " Rural Rides :" 
 
 " I, who have seen so many towns, think this the 
 prettiest and most happy looking I ever saw in my 
 life." There's praise for you ! But, then, he had never 
 seen Dunfermline. Here is a characteristic touch of 
 that rare, horse-sense kind of a man. He is enraptured 
 over the vale of Chilworth. 
 
 " Here, in this tranquil spot, where the nightingales 
 are to be heard earlier and later in the year than in any 
 other part of England, where the first budding of the 
 trees is seen in the spring, where no rigor of seasons can 
 ever be felt, where everything seems framed for pre- 
 cluding the very thought of wickedness — this has the 
 devil fixed on as one of his seats of his grand manufac- 
 tory, and perverse and even ungrateful man not only 
 lends his aid, but lends it cheerfully." 
 
 Since those days, friend Cobbett, the devil has much 
 enlarged his business in gunpowder and bank notes, of 
 which you complain. He was only making a start when 
 you wrote. The development of manufactures in 
 America (under a judicious tariff, be it reverently 
 spoken), amazing as it has been, and carried on as a 
 rule by the saints, is slow work compared with what his
 
 J 2 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 satanic majesty has been doing in these two depart* 
 ments. We must bestir ourselves betimes. 
 
 You remember Artemus Ward's encounter with the 
 colporteur. After a long, dusty day's journey, arriving 
 at the hotel, he applied to the barkeeper for a mint-julep, 
 and just as Artemus was raising the tempting draught 
 to his lips, a hand was laid upon his arm and the opera- 
 tion arrested. The missionary in embryo said in a kind 
 of sepulchral tone, for he was only a beginner and had 
 not yet reached that true professional voice which 
 comes only after years of exhortation : " My friend, 
 look not upon the wine when it is red. It stingeth like 
 a serpent and it biteth as an adder." " Guess not, 
 stranger," replied Artemus, " not if you put sugar in it." 
 
 It is just so with bank-notes, friend Cobbett. They 
 don't bite worth a cent, neither do they sting, if you 
 have government bonds behind them. But this was 
 not understood in your day. The Republic had not 
 then shown to the world the model system of banking. 
 The objection made to it by others, viz., that founded 
 as it is upon the obligations of the nation, its discredit 
 involves the fall of private credit, counts for little to a 
 republican. We would not give much for the man who is 
 not willing to stake " his life, his fortune, and his sacred 
 honor " upon the solvency of the Republic. Pitiable is 
 the man who could think of his petty private means 
 when his country was in peril. When the Republic falls, 
 let us also fall.
 
 American Blessings. ji> 
 
 There is a funny thing in this guide-book. " There 
 also resides Mr. Martin Farquhar Tupper, the author of 
 ' Proverbial Philosophy,' etc. He has eulogized the 
 scene around as follows." Then come two pages of 
 Tupper. I naturally looked to see the name of the 
 author of the book, but none was given. Such modesty ! 
 But the case is a clear one, for who but Tupper 
 would quote Tupper ! " Sir," said Johnson to Bossy, 
 " Sir, I never did the man an injury in my life, and yet 
 he would persist in reading his tragedy to me." Here's 
 the concluding quotation from the guide-book of Guild- 
 ford, and the Scribe promises not to quote much more 
 from any similar source. Cobbett says that in Albury 
 Park he saw some plants of the " American cran- 
 berry, which not only grow here, but bear fruit, and 
 therefore it is clear that they may be cultivated with 
 great ease in this country." 
 
 Potatoes, tomatoes, and cranberries — look at the 
 great blessings America has bestowed upon the " au- 
 thor of her being ;" and what won't grow in the rain 
 and fog of the old home, doesn't she grow for her 
 and send over by every steamer, from canvas-back 
 ducks to Newtown pippins ! Thackeray was right in 
 saying one night, when some friends were disposed to 
 criticise America, " Ah ! well, gentlemen, much can be 
 pardoned to a country which produces the canvas-back 
 duck." At dinner-tables in England, nowadays, to the 
 usual grace, " O Lord ! for what we are about to re-
 
 74 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 ceive make us truly thankful," should be added, " and 
 render us truly grateful to our big son Jonathan, God 
 bless him ! " 
 
 One could settle down at the White Lion in Guild- 
 ford, and spend a month, at least, visiting every day 
 fresh objects of interest, and I have no doubt becoming 
 day by day more charmed with the life he was leading. 
 In every direction historical scenes, crowded full of 
 instructive stories of the past, invite us : and yet to- 
 morrow morning the horn will sound, and we shall be 
 off, reluctantly saying to ourselves, we must return 
 some day when we have leisure, and wander in and 
 around, absorb and moralize. This rapid survey is only 
 to show us what we can do hereafter. A summer to 
 each county would not be too much, and here are 
 eight hundred miles from sea to firth to be rushed over 
 in seven weeks. Guildford, farewell ! — on " to fresh 
 YrOocHa -fie!4s and pastures new." 
 
 Saturday, June 18. 
 After a delightful breakfast we mount the coach 
 and are off through the crowd of lookers-on for our 
 second day's journey. During this stage we learned 
 the valuable lesson that we should not attempt to coach 
 through England without having the ordnance survey 
 maps, and paying close attention to them. In this part 
 of the country, so near to monster London, the roads 
 and lanes are innumerable, and run here, there, and
 
 The Scribe as a Whip. 75 
 
 everywhere. You can reach any point by many differ- 
 ent roads. Guide-posts have a dozen names upon 
 them. We did some sailing out of our course to-day, 
 and found many charming spots not down in the chart, 
 which the straight line would have caused us to miss ; 
 it was late ere Windsor's towers made their appear- 
 ance. The day was not long enough for us, long as it 
 was, but -the fifty miles we are said to have traversed 
 were quite enough for the horses. But next day would 
 be Sunday, we said, and they had a long rest to look 
 forward to at Windsor. 
 
 Windsor, June 18-20. 
 Upon reaching the forest, the General Manager 
 insisted that the Scribe should take the reins and drive 
 his party through the royal domain. This was his first 
 trial as the whip of a four-in-hand, and not a very success- 
 ful one either. It's easy enough to handle the ribbons, 
 but how to do this and spare a hand for the whip 
 troubles one. As Josh Billings remarks in the case of 
 religion, " It's easy enough to get religion, but to hold 
 on to it is what bothers a fellow. A good grip is here 
 worth more than rubies." The Scribe had not the grip 
 for the whip, but it did give him a rare pleasure when 
 he got a moment or two now and then (when Perry 
 held the whip), to think that he was privileged to drive 
 his friends in style up to Her Majesty's very door at 
 Windsor. Only to the door, for that good woman 
 was not at home, but in bonnie Scotland, sensible lady !
 
 76 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 As we were en route ourselves, we were quite in the 
 fashion ; some of her republican subjects, however, were 
 quite disappointed at not getting a glimpse of her 
 during the tour. 
 
 The drive through the grounds gave to some of our 
 party the first sight of an English park, and it is certain 
 that the impression it made upon them will never be 
 effaced. 
 
 Windsor at last, a late dinner and a stroll through 
 the quaint town, the castle towering over all in the 
 cloudy night, and we were off to bed, but not before we 
 had enjoyed an hour of the wildest frolic, though tired 
 and sleepy after the long drive. We laughed until our 
 sides ached, but how vain to attempt to describe the 
 fun ! To detail the trifles light as air which kept us in 
 a roar during our excursion is like offering you stale 
 champagne. No, no, gone forever are those rare noth- 
 ings which were so delicious when fresh ; but, for the 
 benefit of the members of the Circle, I'll just say 
 " Poole." It was a happy thought to put the General 
 Manager's suit of new clothes in Davie's package and 
 await results. We had ordered travelling suits in Lon- 
 don, and when they arrived we all began to try them 
 on at once. Davie's disappointment at getting an odd- 
 looking suit fancied by the General Manager was so 
 genuine ! But such a perfect fit, though a mistake, 
 maybe, as to material ; and then, when he tried his own 
 suit, what a misfit it was ! The climax: " David, if you
 
 Gladstone. yj 
 
 are going to " — but this is too much ! The tears are 
 rolling down my cheeks once more as I picture that 
 wild scene. 
 
 We heard the chimes at midnight, and then to bed. 
 Windsor is nothing unless royal. It is all over royal, 
 although Her Majesty was absent. But the Prince of 
 Wales was there, and a greater than he — Mr. Glad- 
 stone — had run down from muggy London to refresh 
 his faded energies by communing with nature. It is 
 said that his friends are alarmed at his haggard appear- 
 ance toward the close of each week ; but he spends 
 Saturday and Sunday in the country, and returns on 
 Monday to surprise them at the change. Ah ! he has 
 found the kindest, truest nurse, for he knows — 
 
 . . . " that Nature never did betray 
 The heart that loved her ; 'tis her privilege, 
 Through all the years of this our life, to lead 
 From joy to joy ; for she can so inform 
 The mind that is within us, so impress 
 With quietness and beauty, and so feed 
 With lofty thoughts, that neither evil tongues, 
 Rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men, 
 Nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all 
 The dreary intercourse of daily life, 
 Shall e'er prevail against us, or disturb 
 Our cheerful faith, that all which we behold 
 Is full of blessings." 
 
 Mr. Gladstone's fresh appearance Monday mornings 
 gratifies his friends, and pleases even his opponents,
 
 j8 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 for such a man can have no ill-wishers, surely. When 
 Confucius had determined to behead the emperor's 
 corrupt brother, his counsellors endeavored to dis- 
 suade him, from a just fear that the criminal's friends 
 would rise and avenge his death. " Friends ! " said the 
 sage, " such a character may have adherents, but friends 
 never." The result proved his wisdom. No revolt came, 
 though Confucius stood by to see justice done, refusing 
 to listen to the petition of the emperor for his own 
 brother's life. In like manner, Mr. Gladstone may 
 have opponents — enemies never. All Englishmen must 
 in their hearts honor the man who is a credit to the 
 race. By the way, he's Scotch, let me note, and never 
 fails to bear in mind and to mention this special cause 
 for thankfulness. I suspect that this fact has not a lit- 
 tle to do with the intense enthusiasm of Scotland for 
 him. We are a queer lot, up in the North Countrie, 
 and he is our ain bairn. Blood is thicker than water 
 everywhere, but in no part of this world is it so very 
 much thicker as beyond the Tweed. 
 
 We attended church at Windsor and saw the great 
 man and the Prince come to the door together. There 
 the former stopped and the other walked up the aisle, 
 causing a flutter in the congregation. Mr. Gladstone 
 followed at a respectful distance, and took his seat 
 several pews behind. How absurd you are, my young 
 lady republican ! Can you not understand ? One is 
 only the leading man in the empire — a man who, in a
 
 Kings and Princes. 79 
 
 fifty years' tussle with the foremost statesmen of the 
 age, has won the crown both for attainments and char- 
 acter ; but the other, bless your ignorant little head ! — 
 he is a prince. 
 
 Well, if he is, he has never done anything, you say. 
 True, but what are kings and princes for? The people 
 of England, my dear, not so very long ago, used to have 
 it beaten into them that " the king can do no wrong." 
 As this is historically the true doctrine and has anti- 
 quity on its side, it would have been very un-English to 
 reject it ; so they quietly accepted the dogma and made 
 it true by arranging that the king should never be al- 
 lowed to do anything — it's a way these islanders have — 
 the form may be what it likes, the substance must be as 
 they wish. They never revolutionize in England — they 
 transform. What you complain of then, my red repub- 
 lican miss, is really the best proof that the prince will 
 make that modern article called a Constitutional Mon- 
 arch, and spend his days as the English man-milliner 
 Worth — setting the fashions, laying foundation stones, 
 and opening fancy bazars. Oh ! you would not be 
 such a prince or such a king. The Bruce at Bannock- 
 burn, at the head of his countrymen striking for the 
 independence of Scotland, and King Edward leading 
 his hosts, these were real kings, you say ? The kings of 
 to-day are shadows. I am not going to dispute that 
 with you, Miss ; times have changed and kings with them; 
 but were I Prince of Wales, I would be in Ireland to-
 
 8o Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 day investigating the causes of discontent and devising 
 a remedy ; and above all showing my deep and abiding 
 sympathy with that portion of my people. This would 
 be better than leading men to murder their fellows — as 
 your heroes did. Oh yes, indeed, says my young lady 
 politician, I should like to be the Prince of Wales just 
 to do that. What a hero it would make him ! Why, he 
 would rank with Alfred the Good, or George Washing- 
 ton. Why doesn't Mr. Gladstone suggest this to him ? 
 I believe the Prince would just jump at the chance. 
 Well, my dear girl, drop a postal card to the grand old 
 man, and you will get his views upon the subject by 
 return mail. The conversation ended by a toss of the 
 head, and " Well, I would if I were a man. I should like 
 a chance ' to talk it up ' to the Prince." As the Prince 
 is an admirer of pretty American young ladies, our 
 friend might get a hearing and astonish him. 
 
 In the afternoon we attended St. George's Chapel. 
 In one of the stalls we saw again that sadly noble lion- 
 face — no one ever mistakes Gladstone. He sat wrapped 
 in the deepest meditation. He is very pale, haggard, 
 and careworn — the weight of empire upon him ! 
 
 "I tell thee, scorner of these whitening hairs, 
 When this snow melteth there shall come a flood.'' 
 
 I could not help applying to him Milton's lines : 
 
 . . . " with grave 
 Aspect he rose, and in his rising seem'd
 
 The Queen Dowager. 81 
 
 A pillar of state : deep on his front engraven 
 Deliberation sat and public care ; 
 And princely counsel in his face yet shone. 
 Majestic though in ruin." 
 
 He has work to do yet. If he were only fifty instead 
 of seventy odd ! Well, God bless him for what he has 
 done ; may he rule England long! 
 
 A memorable event occurred at Windsor, Sunday, 
 June 19th — the Queen Dowager reached her seventy- 
 first year. At breakfast Mr. B. rose, and addressing 
 himself to her, made one of the sweetest, prettiest 
 speeches ever heard. He presented to her an exqui- 
 site silver cup, ornamented with birds and flowers, and 
 inscribed : " Presented to Mrs. M. C. at Windsor, by 
 the members of the coaching-party, upon her seventy- 
 first birthday." Mr. B.'s reference to her intense love 
 of nature in all its glorious forms, from the tiny gowan 
 to the extended landscape, was most appropriate. 
 
 We were completely surprised; and when the 
 speaker concluded, the Scribe was about to rise and 
 respond, but a slight motion from Her Majesty apprized 
 him that she preferred to reply in person. She acquitted 
 herself grandly. Her speech was a gem (Mem. — it 
 was so short). After thanking her dear friends, she 
 said : 
 
 " I can only wish that you may all have as good 
 health, as complete command of all your faculties, and 
 enjoy flowers and birds and all things of nature as much
 
 82 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 as I do at seventy-one." Here the voice trembled. 
 There were not many dry eyes. The quiver ran 
 through the party, and without another word the Queen 
 sat slowly down. I was very, very proud of that 
 seventy-year old (I am often that), and deeply moved, 
 as she was, by this touching evidence of the regard of 
 the coaching-party for her. 
 
 This incident led to some funny stones about pres- 
 entation speeches. Upon a recent occasion, not far 
 from Paisley, Aggie told us, a worthy deacon had been 
 selected to present a robe to the minister. The church 
 was crowded, and the recipient stood expectantly at the 
 foot of the pulpit, surrounded by the members of his 
 family. Amid breathless silence the committee entered 
 and marched up the aisle, headed by the deacon bearing 
 the gift in his extended arms. On reaching the pulpit 
 a stand was made, but never a word came from the 
 deacon, down whose brow the perspiration rolled in 
 great drops. He was in a daze, but a touch from one 
 of the committee brought him back to something like a 
 realizing sense of his position, and he stammered out, as 
 he handed the robe to the minister: 
 
 " Mr. Broon, 
 Here's the goon." 
 
 You need not laugh. It is not likely that you could 
 make as good a speech, which, I'll wager, is far better 
 than the one over which he had spent sleepless nights,
 
 Si. Georges Chapel. 83 
 
 but which providentially left him at the critical mo- 
 ment. 
 
 Windsor, seen from any direction at a distance, is 
 par excellence the castle — a truly royal residence ; but, 
 seen closely, it loses the grand and sinks into something 
 of prettiness. It is no longer commanding, and is in- 
 significant in comparison with the true castles of the 
 North, the surroundings of which are in keeping with 
 the idea of a stronghold, and take you at once to the 
 times of the chieftain and his armed men. There is noth- 
 ing of this at Windsor, and the glamour disappears when 
 you begin to analyze. Royalty's famous abode should 
 be looked at, as royalty itself should be — at a safe dis- 
 tance. 
 
 Service at St. George's Chapel will not soon be for- 
 gotten by our party. The stalls of the Knights of the 
 Garter, over the canopies of which hang their swords 
 and mantles surmounted by their crests and armorial 
 bearings, carry one far back into the days of chivalry. 
 One stall arrested and held my attention — that of the 
 Earl of Beaconsfield. When I was not gazing at Glad- 
 stone's face, I was moralizing upon the last Knight of 
 the Garter, whose flag still floats above the stall. Dis- 
 raeli won the blue ribbon about as worthily as most men, 
 and by much the same means — he flattered the monarch. 
 But there is this to be said of him : he had brains and 
 made himself. 
 
 What a commentary upon pride of birth, the flag of
 
 S4 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 the poor literary adventurer floating beside that of my 
 lord duke's ! It pleased me much to see it. How that 
 man must have chuckled as he bowed his way among 
 his dupes, from Her Majesty to Salisbury, and passed 
 the radical extension of the suffrage that doomed he- 
 reditary privilege to speedy extinction. But where will 
 imperialism get such another leader, after all? It has 
 not found him yet. 
 
 "What is that up there?" asked one of our party. 
 " The royal box, miss." Were we really at the opera, 
 then ? A royal box in a church for the worship of God ! 
 Did you ever hear anything like that ! There is a royal 
 staircase, too. Why not ? You would not have royalty 
 on an equality with us, would you, even if we are all 
 alike miserable sinners and engaged in the worship of 
 that God who is no respecter of persons. 
 
 " Well, I think this is awful," said one of the party. 
 •• I don't believe the good Queen would go to church 
 in this way, if she only thought of it. Our President 
 and family have their pew just like the rest of us." 
 Our English members were equally surprised that the 
 American should see anything shocking in the practice, 
 and the ladies fought out the matter between them- 
 selves ; the Americans insisting that the Queen should 
 attend worship as other poor sinners do, since all are 
 equal in God's eyes ; and the English saying little, but 
 evidently harboring the idea that even in heaven spe- 
 cial accommodations would probably be found reserved
 
 Royal Etiquette. 85 
 
 for royalty, with maybe a special staircase to ascend by. 
 Early education and inherited tendencies account for 
 much. 
 
 The staircase question led to the story that the 
 Marquis of Lome was not allowed to enter some per- 
 formance by the same stair with his wife. The Ameri- 
 can was up at this. " If I had a husband, and he 
 couldn't come with me, I wouldn't go." This made an 
 end of the discussion, for the English young lady's eyes 
 told plainly of her secret vow that wherever she 
 
 went must go too. All were agreed on this point ; 
 
 but on the general question it was a drawn battle, the 
 one side declaring that if they were men they would 
 not have a princess for a wife under any circumstances, 
 and the other insisting that, if they were princesses, they 
 would not have anybody but a prince for a husband. 
 
 We were honored while here by the presence of Mr. 
 Sidney G. Thomas and his sister, who came down from 
 London and spent the day with us. Mr. Thomas is the 
 young chemist, who, in conjunction with his cousin 
 Mr. Gilchrist, would not accept the dictum of the au- 
 thorities that phosphorus, that fiend of steel manu- 
 facturers, cannot be expelled from iron ores at a high 
 temperature. They set to work over a small toy pot, 
 which deserves to rank with Watt's tea-kettle, to see 
 whether the scientific world had not blundered. Let 
 me premise that the presence of phosphorus in pig 
 iron to the extent of more than about one tenth of one
 
 86 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 per cent, is fatal to the production of good steel by the 
 Bessemer or open hearth processes. Do what you will, 
 this troublesome substance persists in remaining with 
 the iron. If there be phosphorus in the iron-stone you 
 smelt, every atom of it will be found in the resulting 
 iron ; and if there be any in the limestone, or the coke 
 or coal used, every atom of it also will find its way into 
 the iron. 
 
 It is essential, therefore, that iron-stone should be 
 found practically free from phosphorus ; but unfortu- 
 nately such ore is scarce, and therefore expensive. The 
 great iron-stone deposits of England are full of the 
 enemy; so are those of America; hence, both countries 
 depend largely upon ores which have to be transported 
 from Spain and other countries. One authority esti- 
 mates that if all the high phosphorus ores in Britain 
 could be made as valuable as those free from the ob- 
 jectionable ingredient, the saving per annum would go 
 far to pay the interest upon the national debt. Many 
 have been the attempts to devise some tempting bait to 
 coax this fiend to forego his strange affinity for iron, 
 and unite with some other element ; but no, his satanic 
 majesty would cling to the metal. 
 
 Messrs. Thomas and Gilchrist, in studying some 
 highly creditable experiments made by my friend 
 Lothian Bell, Esq. (for he was upon the right track), 
 discovered an oversight which seemed to qualify the 
 results which he reached, and to render his experiments
 
 Iron and Phosphorus. 87 
 
 inconclusive. It was possible, they thought, that his 
 failure might have resulted from the fiend not being 
 kept out when he was out. So they went quietly to 
 work with their toy pot, and Eureka ! Their charm had 
 not only exorcised the fiend, but they had discovered 
 how to lead him away from the molten metal into the 
 refuse and shut the door on him there. Here was a 
 triumph indeed ! I fancy they neither ate nor slept till 
 repeated experiments proved that the true charm had 
 been found at last. 
 
 Mr. E. Windsor Richards, the broad manager of the 
 largest manufactory of iron and steel in the world, was 
 soon acquainted by them with the discovery. He tried it 
 upon a large scale, and announced the end of the reign 
 of King Phosphorus ; but he dies hard. This was some 
 years ago, for I read the good news a few minutes after 
 I had landed at Naples from the East, on my way 
 round the world in the year 1879. Many obstacles had 
 yet to be surmounted, but now every ton of steel man- 
 ufactured at Mr. Richards's great works is made from 
 iron stone which a few years ago was counted worth- 
 less for steel. Enough iron stone can be had for 
 three dollars to make a ton of pig iron suitable 
 for steel rails. The same amount of low phos- 
 phorus stone at Pittsburgh cost last year sixteen 
 dollars, and yet there are intelligent people who do 
 not understand why we cannot make rails as cheap as 
 the English.
 
 88 Fotir-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 I wonder if I could explain to the general reader 
 how Messrs. Thomas and Gilchrist succeeded. It al- 
 ways seems to me like a fairy tale — I will try. In mak- 
 ing steel, ten tons of molten pig iron is run into a big 
 pot called a converter, and hundreds of jets of air are 
 blown up through the mass to burn out the silica and 
 carbon, and finally to make it steel. Now, phospho- 
 rus has a greater affinity for lime than for iron when it 
 reaches a certain temperature, and when the air blast 
 brings the mass to the required heat, the million parti- 
 cles of phosphorus, like so many tiny ants disturbed, 
 run hither and thither, quite ready to leave the iron 
 for the lime. These clever young men first put a lot 
 of lime in the bottom of the pot as a bait, and into this 
 fly the ants, perfectly delighted with their new home. 
 The lime and slag float to the top and are drawn off — 
 but mark you, let the temperature fall and the new 
 home gets too cold to suit these salamanders, although 
 the temperature may be over 2,000 degrees, hot enough 
 to melt a bar of steel in a moment if thrown into the 
 pot. No, they must have 2,500 degrees in the lime 
 or they will rush back to the metal. 
 
 But here lay a difficulty : 2,500 degrees is so very hot 
 that no ordinary pot lining will stand it, and of course 
 the iron pot itself will not last a moment. If ganister 
 or fire brick is used it just crumbles away, and besides 
 this, the plaguey particles of phosphorus will rush into 
 it and tear it all to pieces. The great point is to get a
 
 A Modern Moses. 89 
 
 basic lining, that is, one free from silica. This has at 
 last been accomplished, and now the basic process is 
 destined to revolutionize the manufacture of steel, for 
 out of the poorest ores, and even out of puddle cinder, 
 steel or iron much purer than any now made for rails 
 or bridges can be obtained, and the two young chemists, 
 patentees of the Thomas-Gilchrist process, take their 
 rank in the domain of metallurgy with Cort, Nelson, 
 Bessemer and Siemens. These young men have done 
 more for England's greatness than all her kings and 
 queens and aristocracy put together. 
 
 It was this pale Gladstonian-looking youth we had 
 with us for the day and for our Sunday evening dinner 
 at Windsor. He wears no title — he is too sound a 
 Radical, and too sensible a man to change the name 
 his honored father gave him — but nevertheless we felt 
 we had one of the great men of our generation as our 
 guest. If it be true, as it is, that he who causes two 
 blades of grass to grow where but one grew before is a 
 benefactor to the race, what is the magician who takes 
 from the bowels of the earth a ton of dross, and trans- 
 forms it into steel before our eyes — strikes with his 
 enchanted wand a hundred mines of worthless stone 
 and turns it into gold, as the prophet struck the dry 
 rock and called water forth ? The age of real miracles 
 is not over, you see, it has only begun, and Thomas 
 is our modern Moses ; his miracle seems as much 
 greater than that of his prototype as the nineteenth
 
 90 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 century is advanced beyond that of the Jewish dispen- 
 sation. 
 
 Monday was another thoroughly English day. The 
 silver Thames, that glistened in the sun, was enlivened 
 by many stately swans. The castle towered in all its 
 majesty, vivified by the meteor flag which fluttered in 
 the breeze. The grounds of Eton were crowded with 
 nice-looking English boys as we passed. Many of us 
 walked down the steep hill and far into the country in 
 advance of the coach, and felt once more that a fine 
 day in the south of England was perfection indeed. 
 The sun here reminds one of the cup that cheers, but 
 does not inebriate: its rays cheer, but never scorch. 
 You could not tell whether, if there were to be any 
 change, you would prefer it to be a shade cooler or a 
 shade warmer. 
 
 The swans of Windsor are an institution almost as 
 old as the castle itself, for they are mentioned in rec- 
 ords more than five hundred years ago. The swan is 
 indeed a royal bird, and it is said that no subject can 
 own them when at large in a public river except by 
 special grant from the crown. Such a grant is accom- 
 panied by a swan-mark for each game of swans — the 
 proper term, mark you, for a collection of the noble 
 birds. You may say a flock of geese but not of swans ; 
 a game of swans, please, if you would " speak by the 
 card." The corporation of Windsor has possessed the 
 right of keeping swans in the Thames almost from
 
 Stoke Pogis. 91 
 
 time immemorial. Formerly the king's swanherd made 
 an annual expedition up the river to mark them. He 
 and his assistants chased the poor frightened birds in 
 boats, caught them roughly with long hooks, with little 
 deference to their beautiful plumage, and marked them 
 by cutting one or more nicks in the upper mandible of 
 their beaks. This expedition, called swan-upping (cor- 
 rupted into swan-hopping), is still made by the deputies 
 of the Dyers' and Vintners' companies, now the principal 
 swan owners on the Thames, the mark of the former 
 being one nick and of the latter two nicks on the bill. 
 
 Stoke Pogis is a few miles out of our direct road, but 
 who would miss that, even were the detour double 
 what the ordnance survey makes it ? Besides, had not 
 a dear friend, a stay-at-home, told us that one of the 
 happiest days of her life was that spent in making a 
 pilgrimage to the shrine of the poet from this very 
 Windsor? Gray's was the first shrine at which we 
 stopped to worship, and the beauty, the stillness, the 
 peace of that low, quaint, ivy-covered church, and its 
 old-fashioned graveyard, sank into our hearts. Surely 
 no one could revive memories more sweetly English 
 than he who gave us the Elegy. Some lines, and even 
 verses of that gem, will endure, it may safely be pre- 
 dicted, as long as anything English does, and that is 
 saying much. We found just such a churchyard as 
 seemed suited to the ode. Gray is fortunate in his 
 resting-place. Earth has no prettier, calmer spot to
 
 92 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 give her child than this. It is the very ideal God's acre. 
 The little church, too, is perfect. How fine is Gray's 
 inscription upon his mother's tomb ! I avoid ceme- 
 teries whenever possible, but this seemed more like a 
 place where one revisits those he has once known than 
 that where, alas ! we must mourn those lost forever. 
 Gray's voice — the voice of one that is still, even the 
 touch of the vanished hand, these seemed to be found 
 there, for after our visit the poet was closer to me than 
 he had ever been before. It is not thus with such as 
 we have known and loved in the flesh — their graves let 
 us silently avoid. He whom you seek is not here ; but 
 the great dead, whom we have known only through 
 their souls, do come closer to us as we stand over their 
 graves. The flesh we have known has become spiritual- 
 ized ; the spirits we have known become in a measure 
 materialized, and I felt I had a firmer hold upon Gray 
 from having stood over his dust. 
 
 Here is the inscription he put upon his mother's 
 
 grave : 
 
 " Dorothy Gray. 
 
 The careful, tender mother of many children, one of whom alone 
 
 had the misfortune to survive her." 
 
 The touch in the last words, "the misfortune to 
 survive her ! " — Carlyle's words upon his wife's tomb 
 recur to me : 
 
 " And he feels that the light of his life has gone out." 
 
 These were men wailing for women. I cannot be-
 
 Gray's Tomb. 93 
 
 lieve but that there are many women who would pre- 
 fer to share the fate of men who die. There is such 
 love on earth. Sujatas are not confined to India. As 
 she says : 
 
 " But if Death called Sendni, I should mount 
 
 The pile and lay that dear head in my lap, 
 
 My daily way, rejoicing when the torch 
 
 Lit the quick flame and rolled the choking smoke. 
 
 For it is written, if an Indian wife 
 
 Die so, her love shall give her husband's soul 
 
 For every hair upon her head, a crore 
 
 Of years in Swerza." 
 
 I think I know women who would esteem it a mercy 
 to be allowed to pass away with him, if the Eternal had 
 not set his " canon 'gainst self-slaughter." This prohi- 
 bition the Indian wots not of, but mounts the pile be- 
 lieving as thoroughly as Abraham did when he placed 
 Isaac on the altar, that God wills it so. They were 
 equally mistaken ; and this suggests that we may all be 
 very much surprised when we come to understand 
 rightly, how very seldom the unknown requires any 
 sacrifice of what is pleasing to us in this present world 
 of his. It seems to me it is not God but men who are 
 disposed to make the path so very thorny. 
 
 Upon Gray's own tomb there is inscribed : 
 
 " One morn I missed him on the accustomed hill, 
 Along the heath, and near his favorite tree ; 
 Another came, nor yet beside the rill, 
 ■Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood was he."
 
 94 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 One perfect gem outweighs a thousand mediocre per- 
 formances and makes its creator immortal. The world 
 has not a second Gray's Elegy among all its treasures. 
 Nor is it likely to have. We found you still in your 
 accustomed place. 
 
 The manor house of Stoke Pogis, which took its 
 name from a marriage, away back in the 13th cent- 
 ury, between a member of the Pogis family and an 
 heiress, Amicia de Stoke, furnished the subject of Gray's 
 " Long Story," a poem known now only to the curious 
 student of English literature. How fortunate for the 
 world that the poet did not let his reputation rest 
 upon it ! 
 
 The old house, built in the time of good Queen 
 Bess on an older foundation, is still more noted as the 
 home of Sir Edward Coke, the famous Lord Chief Jus- 
 tice and the rival of Bacon. In 1601 Coke, who had 
 married three years before a wealthy young widow, 
 Lady Hatton of Hatton House, the daughter of Lord 
 Burleigh, entertained the Virgin Queen at Stoke 
 Pogis in a manner befitting the royal dignity and the 
 length of his own purse. Among other presents which 
 her Majesty graciously deigned to accept at the hands 
 of her subject on the occasion was jewelry valued at 
 £ 1,000, a large sum in those days. 
 
 Coke's marriage did not turn out very happily. He 
 was old enough to be his wife's father, and she always 
 affected for him the utmost contempt, even forbidding
 
 Chief Justice Coke. 95 
 
 him to enter her house in London except by the back 
 door. The poor man bore his hen-pecking in silence 
 for many years, but at last she went one step too far. 
 During his absence in London she packed up and re- 
 moved from Stoke to one of her own houses his plate 
 and other valuables. The outraged husband forcibly 
 entered her house and reclaimed his property, taking, 
 as she said, some of hers also. This led to legal pro- 
 ceedings, in which she, through the aid of Bacon, got 
 the better of him, and a reconciliation took place. 
 
 The next year the broil took another phase. Lady 
 Hatton — she always refused to take Coke's name — had 
 borne him a daughter, who was the heiress of her 
 mother's estates as well as of Coke's wealth. Her hand 
 had been sought by Sir John Villiers, but as he was 
 poor his suit had been rejected. A turn came in the 
 tide. Coke, shorn of most of his honors, was in disgrace, 
 and the Duke of Buckingham, Sir John's brother, was 
 King James's favorite and the dispenser of immense 
 patronage. Coke, with the object of winning back the 
 royal favor and of humbling Bacon, his great enemy, 
 now determined to ally himself with the rising house, 
 and offered his daughter to Villiers. Lady Hatton, who 
 had not been consulted in the matter, refused her con- 
 sent, ran away with her daughter, and concealed her 
 in the house of a kinsman. But Coke found out her 
 hiding place, and with a dozen stout fellows broke into 
 the house and seized his daughter. Lady Hatton,
 
 96 Fonr-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 aided by Bacon, carried her case to the privy council 
 and Coke was proceeded against in the Star Chamber. 
 But with Buckingham behind him the old lawyer proved 
 too strong for Bacon this time, and succeeded in throw- 
 ing his wife into prison and in forcing her to consent to 
 the match. 
 
 The marriage took place at Hampton Court in the 
 presence of the king, the queen, and the most distin- 
 guished of the nobility, and Frances became Lady Vil- 
 liers. Stoke Pogis was settled on the bridegroom, who 
 was shortly raised to the peerage as Viscount Purbeck 
 and Baron Villiers, of Stoke Pogis, and Coke flattered 
 himself that his troubles had at last ended. But the 
 marriage resulted like many another ill-assorted union. 
 Lady Villiers, after driving her husband nearly to the 
 verge of distraction, eloped with Sir Robert Howard, 
 and lived for many years an eventful and scandalous 
 life, which finally brought its reward in her degradation, 
 imprisonment, and death. 
 
 If the course of true love never runs smooth, it may 
 be taken for granted that the stream is even more tem- 
 pestuous when marriage is made a matter of family 
 alliance with no love at all in the matter. Our young 
 ladies were unanimous upon this point, and one and all 
 declared their firm resolve and readiness to trust to 
 " true love " with all its risks. The Queen Dowager, 
 being appealed to by them for support, settled the mat- 
 ter by reciting the lines of an old Scotch song :
 
 Royal Visits. 97 
 
 " Lassie tak the man ye loe 
 Whate'er ye're minnie say, 
 Though ye sud mak ye're bridal bed 
 Amang pea strae." 
 
 So ta-ta all worldly considerations and family alli- 
 ances, and the rest of it, say the wild romps of the Gay 
 Charioteers. 
 
 Several years after the death of Coke, Stoke Pogis 
 was for a short time the place of confinement of Charles 
 I., who could see from its windows the towers of Wind- 
 sor Castle, which he was never again to enter except as 
 a headless corpse. On the death of Viscount Purbeck, 
 who resided in the manor house after Coke's decease, 
 Stoke Pogis passed by purchase into the hands of the 
 Gayer family. When Charles II. came to his own again 
 the then possessor of the mansion was knighted, and 
 became so devoted in his affection for the Stuarts that 
 when in after time King William desired to visit Stoke 
 Pogis to see a place so rich in historical associations, the 
 old knight would not listen to it. In vain did his wife 
 intercede: he declared that the usurper should not cross 
 his threshold, and he kept his word. So it came to be 
 said that Stoke Pogis had sumptuously entertained one 
 sovereign, been the prison of another, and refused ad- 
 mission to a third. 
 
 We were told that quite recently Queen Victoria 
 had visited it in person, with a view to its purchase for 
 her daughter, and while walking through its magnifi- 
 7
 
 98 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 cent suite of rooms she expressed the wish that her own 
 Windsor had their equal. She finally decided to pur- 
 chase Claremont, the price demanded for Stoke, it is 
 said, having been too great to square with her majesty's 
 estimate of value. It is in the market to-day. If any of 
 our bonanza kings want one of the stately homes of 
 England, rich in historical associations and " looking 
 antiquity," here is his chance. 
 
 In still later times the old place came into posses- 
 sion of the Penn family, the heirs of our William Penn 
 of Pennsylvania, and it was by one of them, John Penn, 
 that the cenotaph to Gray was erected — for the poet, it 
 will be remembered, was laid in his mother's tomb. 
 This same Penn pulled down much of the old house 
 and rebuilt is as it is to-day. 
 
 Our luncheon was to be upon the banks of the 
 Thames to-day, the Old Swan Inn, where the stone 
 bridge crosses the stream, being our base of supplies ; 
 but ere this was reached what a lovely picture was ours 
 between Stoke Pogis and the Swan ! All that has been 
 sung or written about the valley of the Thames is found 
 to be more than deserved. The silver stream flows 
 gently through the valley, the fertile land rises gradu- 
 ally on both sides, enabling us to get extensive views 
 from the top of the coach. Our road lies over tolerably 
 high ground some distance from the river. Such per- 
 fect quiet, homelike, luxuriant beauty is to be seen 
 nowhere but in England. It is not possible for the ele-
 
 Skylarks. 99 
 
 ments to be combined to produce a more pleasing pict- 
 ure ; and now, after seeing all else between Brighton 
 and Inverness that lay upon our line, we return to the 
 region of Streatley and Maple Durham, and award them 
 the palm as the finest thoroughly English landscape. 
 
 We say to the valley of the Thames what the East- 
 ern poet said to the Vale of Cashmere, which is not 
 half so pretty : 
 
 " If there be a paradise upon earth, 
 It is here, it is here." 
 
 The Old Swan proved to be, both in structure and 
 location, a fit component part of the sylvan scene 
 around. There ran the Thames in limpid purity, a 
 picturesque stone bridge overhanging it, and the road- 
 side inn within a few yards of the grassy bank. 
 
 The rugs were laid under a chestnut tree, and our 
 first picnic luncheon spread on the buttercups and 
 daisies. Swallows skimmed the water, bees hummed 
 above us — but stop ! what's that, and where ? Our 
 first skylark singing at heaven's gate ! All who heard 
 this never-to-be-forgotten song for the first time were 
 up and on their feet in an instant ; but the tiny song- 
 ster which was then filling the azure vault with music 
 was nowhere to be seen. It's worth an Atlantic voyage 
 to hear a skylark for the first time. Even luncheon was 
 neglected a while, hungry as we were, that we might 
 if possible catch a glimpse of the warbler. The flood
 
 ioo Fotir -in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 of song poured forth as we stood wrapt awaiting the 
 descent of the messenger from heaven. At last a small 
 black speck came into sight. He is so little to see — so 
 great to hear ! 
 
 I know several fine things about the famous song- 
 ster : 
 
 " In the golden lightning 
 
 Of the sunken sun, 
 O'er which clouds are bright'ning, 
 Thou dost float and run, 
 Like an unbodied joy whose race is just begun." 
 
 An " unbodied joy ! " that's a hit, surely ! 
 
 Here is Browning on the thrush, which I think 
 should be to the lark : 
 
 " He sings each song twice over, 
 Lest you should think he never could recapture 
 The first fine careless rapture." 
 
 The third is just thrown in by the prodigal hand of 
 genius in a poem not to a lark but to a daisy : 
 
 " Alas ! it's no thy neebor sweet, 
 The bonnie lark, companion meet, 
 Bending thee 'mang the dewy weet, 
 
 Wi" speckl'd breast, 
 When upward springing, blithe, to greet 
 The purpling east." 
 
 How fine is Wordsworth's well known tribute : 
 
 " Type of the wise, who soar but never roam, 
 True to the kindred points of Heaven and Home ! "
 
 Reading Abbey. 101 
 
 And now I remember Shakespeare has his say too 
 about the lark — what is it in England he has not his 
 say about ? or in all the world for that matter ; and how 
 much and how many things has he rendered it the high- 
 est wisdom for men to keep silent about after he has 
 said his say, holding their peace forever. 
 
 A row upon the silver Thames after luncheon, and 
 we are off again for Reading, where we are to rest over 
 night at the Queen's. Reading has a pretty, new park 
 and interesting ruins within its boundaries which we 
 visited before dinner. There are but few traces left of 
 the once famous Abbey, founded early in the twelfth 
 century by Henry I. In the height of its prosperity 
 more than two hundred monks fattened at its hospitable 
 board, and its mitred abbot sat as a peer in Parlia- 
 ment. It was noted, too, as a centre of learning, but the 
 jolly brethren must have sadly degenerated in this 
 respect, if we can believe the report of the royal com- 
 missioners in temp. Henry VIII., for Hugh Cook, the 
 last abbot, who was hanged and quartered near his own 
 door in 1539, * s described as a " stubborn monk, abso- 
 lutely without learning." But, of course, all who believe 
 that the much-married Henry was a monster of iniquity 
 will put no faith in the reports of his minions, and will 
 continue to believe that Abbot Hugh was a holy man 
 of God, whose shortcomings in the small matters of 
 orthography and syntax were more than made up 
 by his proficiency in vigils, fastings, and prayers. That 
 
 :HERS c 
 SANTA BARt
 
 102 Four-in-Hand hi Britain, 
 
 he was the " right man in the right place " is proven by 
 the inventory of the relics found in his keeping by the 
 aforesaid minions at the time of the suppression of the 
 monastery. Among these sacred objects were " twoo 
 peces of the holye crosse," " Saynt James hande," " a 
 bone of Marye Magdelene," " a pece of Saynt Pancrat' 
 arme," and " a bone of Saynt Edwarde the martyr is 
 arme." Can it be possible that this saintly man, who 
 so zealously guarded such treasures to the last moment 
 of his life, should still be allowed to suffer under the 
 imputation of stubbornness and ignorance ! He mightn't 
 just have been " one of those literary fellers," but it is 
 very clear he had a firm grasp of the " fundamentals" of 
 the faith. What is learning compared to a " bone of 
 Saynt Edwarde " as a means of keeping the sheep in the 
 true fold ! The old abbot knew his business better than 
 Henry's commissioners. The tooth of Buddha, which I 
 went to see when in Ceylon, draws crowds from all parts 
 of the island, and excites more piety than the tom- 
 tom, or the incantations of the most learned priest. 
 Truly there's nothing like a relic as a means of grace. 
 
 A pretty lawn in the rear of our hotel gave us an 
 opportunity for a game of lawn tennis in the twilight 
 after dinner, and in the morning we were off for Ox- 
 ford. The editorial in the Reading paper that morning 
 upon emigration struck me as going to the root of the 
 matter. Here is the concluding paragraph: 
 
 " Already the expanding and prospering industries
 
 Causes of Emigration. 103 
 
 of the New World are throwing an ominous shadow 
 across the Old World and are affecting some of its hab- 
 its and practices. But over and above and beyond all 
 these, the free thought, the liberty of action, the calm 
 independence and the sense of the dignity of man as 
 man, and the perfect equality of all before the law and 
 in the eye of the constitution now existing in America, 
 are developing a race of men who, through correspond- 
 ence with home relations, the intercourse of free travel, 
 the transaction of business, and the free, outspoken 
 language of the press, are gradually disintegrating the 
 yet strong conservative forces of European society, and 
 thus preparing the downfall of the monarchical, aristo- 
 cratic, military, and ecclesiastic systems which shackle 
 and strangle the people of the Old World. These 
 thoughts seem to me to convey the meaning of the 
 great exodus now going on, and he is a wise statesman 
 who reads the lesson aright." 
 
 There's a man after my own heart. He grasps the 
 subject. 
 
 The editor tells one of the several causes of the 
 exodus which is embracing many of the most valuable 
 citizens of the old lands where class distinctions still 
 linger. Man longs not only to be free but to be equal, 
 if he has much manhood in him ; and that America is 
 the home for such men, numbers of the best are fast 
 finding out. But England will soon march forward ; 
 she is not going to rest behind very long. There will
 
 IG4 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 soon be no superior political advantages here for the 
 masses, nor educational ones either. England is at 
 work in earnest, and what she does, she does well. I 
 prophecy that young England will give young America 
 a hard race for supremacy. 
 
 Some of us walked ahead of the coach for several 
 miles, and I had a chat with a man whom we met. He 
 was a rough carpenter and his wages were sixteen shil- 
 lings per week ($4). A laborer gets eleven shillings 
 (not $2.75), but some "good masters " pay thirteen to 
 fourteen shillings ($3.25 to $3.50), and give their men 
 four or five pounds of beef at Christmas. Food is bacon 
 and tea, which are cheap, but no beef. Men's wages 
 have not advanced much for many years (I should think 
 not !), but women's have. An ordinary woman for field 
 work can get one shilling per day (24 cents) ; a short 
 time ago ninepence (18 cents) was the highest amount 
 paid. Is it not cheering to find poor women getting an 
 advance ? But think what their condition still is, when 
 one shilling per day is considered good pay ! I asked 
 whether employers did not board the workers in addition 
 to paying these wages, but he assured me they did not. 
 This is southern England and these are agricultural 
 laborers, but the wages seem distressingly low even as 
 compared with British wages in general. The new sys- 
 tem of education and the coming extension of the suf- 
 frage to the counties will soon work a change among 
 these poor people. They will not rest content crowd-
 
 Oxford. 105 
 
 ing each other down thus to a pittance when they can 
 read and write and vote. Thank fortune for this. 
 
 Our ladies were unusually gay in their decorations 
 to-day, with bunches of wild flowers on their breasts 
 and hats crowned with poppies and roses. They decked 
 the Queen Dowager out until she looked as if ready to 
 play Ophelia. Their smiles too were as pretty as their 
 flowers. What an embodied joy bright, happy ladies are 
 under all conditions, and how absolutely essential for a 
 coaching party ! Was it not Johnson's idea of happi- 
 ness to drive in a gig with a pretty woman ? He wasn't 
 much of a muff ! If anything could have kept him in 
 good humor, this would have done it. If he could have 
 been on top of a coach with a bevy of them, not even 
 he could have said a rude thing. 
 
 Oxford was reached before the sun went down. Its 
 towers were seen for miles — Magdalen, Baliol, Christ 
 Church, and other familiar names. We crossed the 
 pretty little Isis, marvelling at every step, and drove up 
 the High Street to the Clarendon. 
 
 The next day was to be Commencement, and only a 
 few rooms were to be had in the hotel, but we were dis- 
 tributed very comfortably among houses in the neigh- 
 borhood. Several hours before dinner were delightfully 
 spent in a grand round of the colleges. We peeped into 
 the great quads, walked the cloisters, and got into all 
 kinds of queer old-fashioned places. But the stroll along 
 the Isis, and past Magdalen Tower, and up the long
 
 io6 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 walk — that was the grand finish ! We pardon Wolsey 
 his greed of getting, he was so princely in giving. To 
 the man who did so much for Oxford much may be for- 
 given. 
 
 Oxford, June si. 
 
 This morning was devoted to visiting the principal 
 colleges more in detail, and also to the ascent of the 
 tower of the Sheldonian Theatre, which no one should 
 ever miss doing. Below us lay the city of palaces, for 
 such it seems, palaces of the right kind too — not for idle 
 kings or princes to riot in, and corrupt society by their 
 bad example, but for those who " scorn delights and live 
 laborious days." 
 
 Our Cambridge member, Mr. B., tells us it does not 
 cost more than £200 ($1,000) per annum for a student 
 here. This seems very cheap. The tariff which we saw 
 in one of the halls gave us a laugh : 
 
 " Commons. 
 Mutton, long, \\d. 
 do. short, gd. 
 do. half, 7d." 
 
 The long and the half we could understand, but how 
 could they manage the short ? This must be a kind of 
 medium portion for fellows whose appetites are only 
 so-so. You see how fine things are cut even in Oxford. 
 Our party thought if the students were coaching there 
 would be little occasion for them to know anything of
 
 Martyrs. 107 
 
 either short or half. At least we were all in for long 
 commons at eleven pence. 
 
 We drove past the martyrs' memorial, Latimer and 
 Ridley's. Cranmer does not deserve to be named with 
 them. A visit to such a monument always does me 
 good, for it enables me to say to those who doubt the 
 real advancement of mankind : Now look at this, and 
 think for what these grand men were burnt ! Is it con- 
 ceivable that good, sterling men shall ever again be 
 called upon in England to die for opinion's sake ! That 
 Cranmer wrote and advocated the right and necessity 
 of putting to death those who differed from him, and 
 therefore that he met the fate he considered it right to 
 mete to others, shows what all parties held in those 
 dark days. I claim that the world has made a distinct 
 and permanent advance in this department which in no 
 revolving circle of human affairs is ever to be lost. The 
 persecution of the Rev. Mr. Green, of Professor Robert- 
 son Smith, and of Bishop Colenso in the present day 
 proves, no doubt, that there is much yet to be done ere 
 we can be very proud of our progress ; but these are the 
 worst of to-day's persecutions, and could occur only in 
 England and Scotland. There is a long gap between 
 them and burning at the stake ! Grand old Latimer 
 was prophetic when he called out from amid the fag- 
 gots to his colleague : " Be of good comfort and play 
 the man ; we shall this day light such a candle by God's 
 grace as I trust shall never be put out ! "
 
 io8 Fonr-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 I think it certain that the candle will never again be 
 put out. The bigots of to-day can annoy only in 
 Britain. In other English-speaking communities even 
 that power has passed away, and persecution for opin- 
 ion's sake is unknown. " A man may say the thing he 
 will " — there is a further and a higher stage yet to be 
 reached when a man will consider it a man's part to 
 have an opinion upon all matters and say what he thinks 
 boldly, concealing nothing. 
 
 We left Oxford with just a sprinkle of rain falling, 
 but we had scarcely got fairly out of the city when it 
 ceased and left the charming landscape lovelier than 
 ever. Banbury Cross was our destination, and on our 
 route lay magnificent Blenheim, the estate given by the 
 nation to the Duke of Marlborough. See what the 
 nations do for the most successful murderers of their 
 fellows ! and how insignificant have ever been the re- 
 wards of those who preserve, improve, or discover — for 
 a Marlborough or a Wellington a fortune, for a Howard 
 or a Wilberforce a pittance. It is only in heathen China 
 that the statesman, the man of letters, heads the list. 
 No military officer, however successful as a destroyer, 
 can ever reach the highest rank there, for with them the 
 victories of peace are more renowned than those of war ; 
 that is reserved for the men who know — the Gladstones 
 and the Disraelis, the Darwins and the Spencers, the 
 Arnolds and the Ruskins. It is only in civilized coun- 
 tries that the first honors are given to butchers.
 
 Blenheim. 109 
 
 Blenheim is superb, grand, and broad enough to sat- 
 isfy princely tastes. And that noble library ! As we 
 walked through it we felt subdued, as if in the presence 
 of the gods of ages past, for a worthy collection of great 
 books ever breathes forth the influence of kings dead 
 yet present, of 
 
 " Those dead but sceptred sovereigns 
 Whose spirits still rule us from their urns." 
 
 And to think that this library, in whose treasures we 
 revelled, reverently taking one old tome after another in 
 our hands, has since then been sold by auction ! De- 
 generate wretch ! but one descended from Marlborough 
 can scarcely be called degenerate. You may not even 
 be responsible for what seems like family dishonor; 
 some previous heir may have rendered the sale neces- 
 sary ; but the dispersion of such treasures as these must 
 surely open the eyes of good men in England to the 
 folly of maintaining hereditary rank and privilege. Per- 
 haps, however, the noble owner had no more use for his 
 books than the lord whose library Burns was privileged 
 to see, which showed no evidences of usage. The bard 
 wrote in a volume of Shakespeare he took up : 
 
 " Through and through the inspired leaves, 
 Ye maggots, make your windings ; 
 But oh ! respect his lordship's taste 
 And spare his golden bindings." 
 
 With many notable exceptions, the aristocracy of 
 Britain took its rise from bad men who did the dirty
 
 1 10 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 work of miserable kings, and from women who were 
 even worse than their lords. It seems hastening to an 
 end in a manner strictly in accordance with its birth. 
 Even Englishmen will soon become satisfied that no 
 man should be born to honors, but that these should be 
 reserved for those who merit them. But what kind of 
 fruit could be expected from the tree of privilege ? Its 
 roots lie in injustice, and not the least of its evils are 
 those inflicted upon such as are born under its shadow. 
 The young peer who succeeds in making somebody of 
 himself does so in spite of a vicious system, and is en- 
 titled to infinite praise ; but though our race is slow to 
 learn, the people hear a wee bird singing these stirring 
 days, and they begin to like the song. The days of 
 rank are numbered. 
 
 Banbury, June 22. 
 Banbury Cross was reached about five o'clock, and 
 few of us were so far away in years or feeling from the 
 days of childhood as not to remember the nursery 
 rhyme which was repeated as we came in sight of the 
 famous Cross. We expected to see a time-worn relic of 
 days long past, and I verily believe that some of us 
 hoped for a glimpse of the old lady on the white horse, 
 with " rings on her fingers, and bells on her toes." Im- 
 agine our disappointment, then, when we saw an elabo- 
 rate Gothic structure, looking as new and modern as if 
 it had received its finishing touches but yesterday. And
 
 Banbury Cross. in 
 
 so indeed it had, for it was recently erected by public 
 subscription. The charm was gene. 
 
 I like new political institutions for my native land, 
 but prefer the old historical structures ; and as we drove 
 past this spick-and-span imitation of antiquity I felt like 
 criticising the good people of Banbury for the sacrilege 
 I supposed they had committed in thus supplanting the 
 ancient landmark which had made their town known 
 the wide world over. I could not help entertaining a 
 hope, too, that the original " goodly Crosse with many 
 degrees about it," had been put away in some museum 
 or other safe place where it could receive the homage 
 of all devoted lovers of Mother Goose. Alas ! inquiry 
 developed the fact that the Puritanic besom of destruc- 
 tion, which demolished so many images and other orna- 
 ments in the churches in good Queen Bess's time, swept 
 away Banbury Cross as early as 1602, and that not a 
 piece of it remains to tell of its ancient glory. 
 
 Banbury was early noted as a stronghold of Puritan- 
 ism, and was famous, as Fuller says, for " zeale, cheese 
 and cakes." The zeal and the cheese are not now as 
 strong as they were, but Banbury cakes are still in as 
 high repute as ever, and are largely made and exported. 
 They are probably the same now as in the days of Ben 
 Jonson, who tells of them in " Bartholomew Fair," — a 
 kind of miniature mince pie, generally lozenge-shaped, 
 consisting of a rich paste with a filling of Zante currants 
 and other fruits.
 
 ii2 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 Banbury has the celebrated works of my friend, Mr. 
 Samuelson, M.P. ; and before dinner I walked out to see 
 them, and if possible to learn something of Mr. Samuel- 
 son's whereabouts. Upon returning to the hotel I 
 found that he was at that moment occupying the sit- 
 ting-room adjoining ours. We had an evening's talk 
 and compared notes as brother manufacturers. If Eng- 
 land and America are drawing more closely together 
 politically, it is also true that the manufacturers of the 
 two countries have nearly the same problems to settle. 
 Mr. Samuelson was deep in railway discriminations and 
 laboring with a parliamentary commission to effect 
 changes, or rather, as he would put it, to obtain jus- 
 tice. 
 
 I gave an account of our plans, our failures, and 
 our successes, of which he took note. This much I am 
 bound to say for my former colleagues upon this side 
 (for before I reformed I was a railway manager), that 
 the manufacturers of Britain have wrongs of which we 
 know nothing here, though ours are bad enough. I add 
 the last sentence lest Messrs. Vanderbilt, Roberts, Cas- 
 satt, and the Garretts (father and son), might receive a 
 wrong impression from the previous admission ; for these 
 are the gentlemen upon whom our fortunes hang. 
 
 The evidence given before the Parliament Commis- 
 sion in Britain, proves that the people there are sub- 
 jected to far worse treatment at the hands of railway 
 companies than we are here. American grain is trans-
 
 Political Economy Club. 1 1 
 
 j 
 
 ported from Liverpool to London, for one-half the rate 
 charged upon English grain from points near Liverpool 
 — I give this as one instance out of hundreds. The 
 defence of the railway company is that unless they 
 carry the foreign article at half rates the ships will 
 carry it to London direct, or that it will go by sea from 
 Liverpool. I attended a meeting of the Political 
 Economy Club, in London, where the question of legis- 
 lative interference with railway charges was ably dis- 
 cussed. The prevalent opinion seemed to be that it was 
 doubtful whether the evils could be cured by legislation. 
 Being called upon to state our experience here, I gave 
 them an account of the unwise policy pursued by the 
 Pennsylvania Railroad Company (now happily reversed) 
 at Pittsburgh and its consequences ; for the great riot in 
 Pittsburgh had for its real source the practice of the 
 Railway Company of carrying the manufactures of the 
 East, from New York and Philadelphia, through the 
 city of Pittsburgh to the West for less than it would 
 carry the same articles for from Pittsburgh, although 
 the distance was twice as great. Many such anomalies 
 as this still exist in England. 
 
 The members seemed interested in hearing that the 
 result was that the railway company finally agreed that 
 in no case should the rates to and from the shorter ex- 
 ceed those charged for the greater distance, and Pitts- 
 burgh manufactures are now taken East and West at 
 ten per cent, less than the through rates between
 
 U4 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 Chicago and the seaboard, no matter how these may be 
 forced by competition. While this rule does not ensure 
 exact justice nor cover all cases, it is nevertheless a great 
 step in advance and removes most of the more serious 
 causes for just complaint. 
 
 The club spoken of is a notable one. It consists of 
 twenty-five members, only vacancies caused by death 
 being filled by election. Admission is considered a 
 great honor. It is said that every question within the 
 range of practical politics upon which the club has de- 
 clared its opinion, has been legislated upon within a 
 short time in accordance with its decision. Every mem- 
 ber is well known and must have a national reputation. 
 Among those present were Sir John Lubbock, who 
 learnt early in youth a rare secret, the way to learn — 
 *' consider the ways of the ant, and be wise " — and Mr. Faw- 
 cett, the blind Postmaster-General, a man whose career 
 proves, as clearly perhaps as ever was proved, the truth 
 that there is no difficulty to him who wills. 
 
 Mr. Leonard Courtney, one of the coming men, took 
 a leading part in the discussion on railways ; Mr. Giffen, 
 however, read the paper of the evening, which of course 
 was able, although on the wrong side, as I think. He 
 is the noted man of figures, whose recent article, read 
 before the Statistical Society, showing the hundreds of 
 millions America is soon to contain, produced so start- 
 ling an effect here, as well as in Europe. Mr. Shaw Le 
 Fevre, Lord Sherborne (Robert Lowe), and the father
 
 Satires and Epigrams. 115 
 
 of the Corn Law Repeal movement, Mr. Villiers, and 
 several others of note were present. 
 
 I was indebted to one of the members, my friend 
 Prof. Thorold E. Rogers, M.P., for the coveted oppor- 
 tunity to visit this club. By the way, I wonder the 
 Professor's book of Satires and Epigrams has not been 
 republished in America. It is wonderfully clever, and 
 the Charioteers have had many a laugh and many a 
 pleasant half hour enjoying it. 
 
 Here is a specimen, which I may be pardoned quot- 
 ing, as I found upon inquiry that the hero Brown was 
 no less than one of my own friends, a Dunfermline man 
 too, at that, Mr. Reid, M.P. : 
 
 " Sent to a distant land in early youth, 
 Brown made his way by honor, thrift, and truth ; 
 Ten years he worked and saved, then, satisfied, 
 Back to his native land our merchant hied. 
 A man of worth as well as wealth, he sought 
 How he might wisely use the cash he'd brought : 
 He clearly saw his fortune could be graced 
 Only by prudence, candor, judgment, taste ; 
 Assumed no airs, indulged in no pretence, 
 Guided his words, his acts, by common sense ; 
 Maintained his self-respect, though glad to please, 
 Seemed not to aim, but won his aims with ease, 
 And proved that he had learnt the highest tact, 
 When no one feared and no one dared detract. 
 (I don't say hate, for some men are so nice 
 They cannot bear a man without a vice) ;
 
 1 1 6 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 Well, such a hater, with a well-bred sneer, 
 
 (He took good care that all the room could hear) : 
 
 Said, ' Dawdle asked me, Brown, if I could tell 
 
 What are your shield, your arms, your motto ? ' Well, 
 
 Brown winced, grew red, looked puzzled for a while, 
 
 Then answered gayly with a pleasant smile, 
 
 ' My shield is or, sir, and the arms I bear, 
 
 Three mushrooms rampant.'— Motto, ' Here we are.'" 
 
 There are many similar good things in the book, 
 so I venture to point it out to the enterprising publish- 
 ers of America as something worthy of — "conveying." 
 
 There is much discussion this morning as to the best 
 route to take, there is so much to tempt us on either of 
 several ways. Shall we go by Compton Verney (there 
 is a pretty English name for you), Wellesbourn, and 
 Hastings?' or shall we take our way through Broughton 
 Castle, Tadmarton, Scoalcliffe, Compton Wynyate, and 
 Oxhill ? In one way Wroxton Abbey, one of the real 
 genuine baronial abbeys, if one may say so, and Edge- 
 hill. Surely no good Republican would miss that ! 
 But on the other route we shall see the stronghold of 
 Lord Saye and Sele, older yet than Wroxton, and 
 Compton Wynyate, older and finer than all — " a noble 
 wreck in ruinous perfection," and a third route still 
 finer than either as far as scenery is concerned. Such 
 is this treasure house, this crowded grand old England, 
 whose every mile boasts such attractions to win our 
 love.
 
 Wrox ton Abbey. 117 
 
 " Look where we may, we cannot err 
 In this delicious region — change of place 
 Producing change of beauty — ever new." 
 
 Every day's journey only proves to us how little of 
 all there is to see we can see ; how much we miss on the 
 right and on the left. One might coach upon this Island 
 every summer during his whole life and yet die leaving 
 more of beauty and of interest to visit than all that he 
 had been able to see. When one does not know how to 
 spend a summer's holiday let him try this coaching life 
 and thank heaven for a new world opened to him. 
 
 We chose the first route, and whatever the others 
 might have proved we are satisfied, for it is unanimously 
 decided that in Wroxton Abbey we have seen our most 
 interesting structure. Though it dates only from the 
 beginning of the seventeenth century, it is a grand build- 
 ing and a fine example of the domestic architecture of 
 the period. Its west front is a hundred and eighteen 
 feet long, and its porch is an elegant specimen of the 
 Italian decorated entrances of the time. Blenheim and 
 Windsor are larger, but had we our choice we would 
 take Wroxton in preference to either. With what in- 
 terest did we wander through its quaint irregular cham- 
 bers and inspect its treasures ! James I. slept in this 
 bed, Charles I. in that, and George IV. in another ; this 
 quilt is the work of Mary Queen of Scots — there is her 
 name ; Queen Elizabeth occupied this chamber during a 
 visit, and King William this. Then the genuine old
 
 1 1 8 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 pictures, although in this department Blenheim stands 
 unrivalled. Marlborough knew the adage that " to the 
 victor belongs the spoils," and acted upon it too, for he 
 had rare opportunities abroad to gather treasures. But 
 for a realization of your most picturesque ideal of a great 
 old English house, betake yourselves to Wroxton Abbey. 
 Its little chapel, rich in very old oak carving, is in itself 
 worth a journey to see. 
 
 A pretty story is told of the visit of James I. to the 
 Abbey. The wife of Sir William Pope, the owner, had 
 lately presented him with a daughter, and on the King's 
 arrival the babe was brought to him bearing in her little 
 hand a scroll containing the following verses : 
 
 " See this little mistres here, 
 Did never sit in Peter's chaire, 
 Or a triple crovvne did weare ; 
 And yet she is a Pope. 
 
 " No benefice she ever sold, 
 Nor did dispence with sins for gold ; 
 She hardly is a sev'nnight old, 
 And yet she is a Pope. 
 
 " No King- her feet did ever kisse, 
 Or had from her worse look than this : 
 
 Nor did she ever hope 
 
 To saint one with a rope ; 
 
 And yet she is a Pope. 
 A female Pope, you'll say, a second Joan ; 
 No sure — she is Pope Innocent or none."
 
 Edgehill. 1 1 9 
 
 We lunched off deal tables and drank home-brewed 
 ale in the tap-room of the Holcroft Inn, a queer old 
 place, but we had a jolly time amid every kind of thing 
 that carried us back to the England of past centuries. 
 Beyond Holcroft we came suddenly upon the grandest 
 and most extensive view by far that had yet rejoiced us. 
 We were rolling along absorbed in deep admiration of 
 the fertile land that spread out before us on both sides 
 of the road, and extolling the never-ceasing peacefulness 
 and quiet charm of England, when, on passing through 
 a cut, a wide and varied panorama lay stretched at our 
 feet. A dozen picturesque villages and hamlets were in 
 sight, and by the aid of our field-glass a dozen more 
 were brought within range. The spires of the churches, 
 the poplars, the hedgerows, the woods, the gently undu- 
 lating land apparently giving forth its luxuriant harvest 
 with such ease and pleasure, all these made up such a 
 picture as we could not leave. We ordered the coach to 
 go on and wait at the foot of the hill until we had feasted 
 ourselves with the view. We lay upon the face of the 
 hill and gazed on Arcadia smiling below. Very soon 
 some of the neighboring residents came, for one is never 
 long without human company in crowded England ; and 
 we found that we were indeed upon sacred ground. 
 This was Edgehill ! As sturdy republicans Ave lingered 
 long upon the spot, gazing on the scene of that bloody 
 fight between king and people which, however, was 
 almost without immediate result — for it was a drawn
 
 120 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 battle — but which eventually led to so much. Charles's 
 army lay at Banbury, whence we had just come, that of 
 the Parliament at Kineton yonder, and spread out before 
 us was the plain where they met. The ground is now 
 occupied by two farms called the Battle Farms, distin- 
 guished as Battleton and Thistleton. Between the farm- 
 houses, on the latter place, are the places where the 
 slain were buried, appropriately called the Grave Fields. 
 A copse of fir trees in one place is said to mark the site 
 of a pit into which five hundred were thrown. 
 
 Some of the royalist writers have tried to prove that 
 Cromwell was not present at Edgehill, and one has even 
 countenanced an idle tale that he witnessed the battle 
 from a steeple on one of the neighboring hills, and that 
 he incontinently took to his heels, or rather to his horses' 
 legs, when he thought the meeting had resulted disas- 
 trously to the forces of the Parliament. But Carlyle 
 characterizes this story as it deserves, for Lord Nugent 
 expressly mentions Cromwell's troop of dragoons as 
 among those that charged at the close of the battle. 
 No, no, stern old Oliver was not the man to stand aloof 
 when he once had scent of a battle ; and we may be sure, 
 although he was then but a captain of horse, that he did 
 good service at Edgehill. 
 
 There were good men on both sides that day, and not 
 the least among them was brave Sir Jacob Astley, who 
 commanded Charles's foot. He was withal a man of 
 piety, for the Parliamentarians did not have a monopoly
 
 Warwick Castle. 121 
 
 in that line, however much their chroniclers may claim 
 it ; and I have always regarded his prayer on that mo- 
 mentous Sunday morning as a model which many clergy- 
 men might study with profit to themselves and to their 
 congregations. " O Lord ! " said he, as he settled himself 
 firmly in the saddle, " Thou knowest how busy I must 
 be this day. If I forget Thee, do not Thou forget me. 
 March on, boys ! " Is not that to the purpose? 
 
 Let such as are at their appointed work have no fear 
 that they will ever be forgotten — the performance of a 
 duty ranks before the offering of a prayer, any day — nay, 
 is of itself the best prayer. There's plenty of time for 
 lip service when we have served the Lord by hard work in 
 a good cause. When people have nothing better to do 
 let them pray, but don't let them be too greedy and ask 
 much for themselves. 
 
 Our route lay through Warwick and Leamington. 
 The view of the castle from the bridge is, I believe, the 
 best of its kind in England. " From turret to founda- 
 tion stone " it is all perfect. The very entrance tells of 
 the good old days. As we pass beneath the archway, 
 over the drawbridge, and under the portcullis, it all 
 comes back to us. 
 
 " Up drawbridge, grooms. What, Warder, ho ! 
 Let the portcullis fall ! 
 To pass there was such scanty room 
 The bars descending razed his plume." 
 
 W T arwick, the king-maker ! This was his castle. His
 
 122 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 quarrel with the king was one of our most taking recita- 
 tions. The Scribe was considered heavy in this : 
 
 " Know this, the man who injured Warwick 
 Never passed uninjured yet." 
 
 He found that out, did he not, my lord of the ragged 
 staff! 
 
 The view from the great hall looking on the river 
 below is fixed in my mind. Don't miss it ; and surely 
 he who will climb to the top of Guy's Tower will have 
 cause for thankfulness for many a year thereafter. You 
 get a look at more of England there than is generally 
 possible. I sympathize with Ruskin in his rage at the 
 attempt to raise funds by subscription to mend the rav- 
 ages of a recent fire in the castle. A Warwick in the 
 role of a Belisarius begging for an obolus ! If the king- 
 maker could look upon this ! But historical names are 
 now often trailed in the dust in England ; and it must 
 be some consolation to him, wherever he may be, to 
 know that the bearer of the title, if responsible for this, 
 is no scion of the old stock. 
 
 The legend of Guy of Warwick, accepted as an his- 
 torical fact by the early writers, has been relegated to 
 the garret of monkish superstition, with the ribs of the 
 dun cow and other once undoubted relics ; but its ro- 
 mance will always lend an interest to the old castle and 
 attract the traveller to the site of the hermitage on Guy's 
 Cliff where the fabled hero died and was buried. You
 
 Guy of Warwick. 123 
 
 must not suppose that Guy's Tower had any connection 
 with the original Guy, for the building dates only from 
 the close of the fourteenth century, while the latter 
 boasts an antiquity of nearly a thousand years. Indeed, 
 we can place him to a dot, for the antiquary Rous is very 
 precise in his statement. He says : " On the twelfth of 
 June, 926, being the third year of the reign of Athelstan, 
 a most terrible single combat took place between the 
 champions of the kings of England and Denmark — Guy, 
 Earl of Warwick, and Colebrand the Pagan, an African 
 giant ; through the mercy of God the Christian under- 
 took the combat, being advised thereto by an angel ; and 
 the faithful servant of God and the Church fortunately 
 vanquished the enemy of the whole realm of England." 
 Is it not dreadful to contemplate what might have 
 been the consequences if Colebrand the African had got 
 the upper hand of that faithful servant of God and the 
 Church ! But it was not to be. The Pagan had a lost 
 fight from the start, for, though the chronicle does not 
 expressly say so, it is very evident to the reflecting mind 
 that Guy was backed throughout by the angel — a mean 
 advantage which, but for the immensity of the stake, 
 would have led any ordinary lover of fair play to side 
 with the weaker party. But not so with the wily monks 
 of those days. In their easy consciences the end justified 
 the means, and so they glorified Guy as the champion 
 of all that was good, and so sedulously trumpeted his 
 fame that the Norman barons who succeeded to the
 
 124 Four -in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 ownership of the old Saxon stronghold saw their interest 
 in adopting the victor as an ancestor. In time these 
 Normans came to believe implicitly in the family tree 
 with Guy at the root, just as some silly people pin their 
 faith to the parchment evidences of the professional 
 genealogists proving their descent from some fabulous 
 hero who followed William and his crew from Normandy. 
 They named their sons after Guy, called the tower his 
 tower, and hung up his arms and armor in the great 
 hall, while their wives and daughters worked his exploits 
 in tapestry. 
 
 These proud descendants of a fabulous ancestor re- 
 mind one of the general in the " Pirates of Penzance " who 
 is found weeping at the tomb in the abbey belonging to 
 the property he has purchased. When it is suggested 
 to him that his tears are misplaced, he replies : " Sir, 
 when I bought this property I bought this abbey and 
 this tomb with its co7itents. I do not know whose an- 
 cestors these were, but I do know whose ancestors they 
 are." And he falls to sobbing again, bound to have an 
 ancestry of some kind, the more important the more to 
 belittle himself by comparison. But the general is very 
 English for all that. Tennyson's lines, 
 
 " Trust me, Clara Vere de Vere, 
 From yon blue heavens above us bent 
 The grand old gardener and his wife 
 Smile at the claims of long descent," 
 
 are well known and repeated by the school children all
 
 Kenilworth Castle. 125 
 
 over the land, but the grown men and women, entirely 
 free from the weakness of trying to figure out a family 
 tree of respectable antiquity, will be found unexpectedly 
 small in this old land. Josh Billings settled the matter 
 as far as Americans are concerned, for the malady is even 
 more ridiculous in the New World. " We can't boast 
 old family here," says he, " the country ain't long enough, 
 unless a feller has Injun in him." That is what the law- 
 yers call an estoppel, I take it. 
 
 Driving through Leamington we reached Kenilworth 
 Castle for luncheon, to which we had looked forward for 
 several days. Alas ! the keeper informed us that no pic- 
 nic parties are admitted since the grounds have been put 
 into such excellent order by the kind Earl Clarendon 
 (for which thanks, good earl). But he was a man of 
 some discrimination, this custodian of the ruins, and 
 when .he saw our four-in-hand and learned who we were 
 — Americans ! Brighton to Inverness ! — he made us an 
 exception to the rule, of which I trust his lordship will 
 approve, if he ever hears. We had one of our happiest 
 luncheons beneath the walls under a large hawthorn tree, 
 which we decided was the very place where the enraged 
 Queen Bess discovered dear Amy Robsart on that mem- 
 orable night. 
 
 A thousand memories cluster round this ruin ; but 
 what should we have known of it had not the great 
 magician touched with his wand this dead mass of stone 
 and lime and conferred immortality upon the actors and
 
 126 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 their revels ? In his pages we live over again the days 
 of old, and take part with the Virgin Queen and her 
 train of lords and ladies in the grand reception so lav- 
 ishly prepared for her amusement by the then reigning 
 favorite ; ruined walls and towers and courts assume 
 their ancient proportions and resound with music and 
 revelry, and the noble park, now so quiet, is alive once 
 more with huntsmen and gayly clad courtiers. But 
 vivid as is Scott's picture, it is exceeded in quaint inter- 
 est by the original account of the festivities from which 
 the great romancer drew his facts, but which is as little 
 known to the ordinary reader of " Kenilworth " as is 
 the prototype of Hamlet to the common play-goer. 
 Master Robert Laneham, the writer, was a sort of 
 hanger-on of the court, and appears to have accompa- 
 nied Leicester to Kenilworth. His account is in the 
 form of a letter addressed to " my good friend, Master 
 Humfrey Martin, Mercer," in London, and is written, 
 says Scott, " in a style of the most intolerable affecta- 
 tion, both in point of composition and orthography." 
 
 After a brief account of the preliminary journey of 
 the queen, this veracious chronicler informs us that she 
 was " met in the Park, about a flight shoot from the 
 Brayz and first gate of the castl" by a person repre- 
 senting " one of the ten Sibills, comely clad in a Pall of 
 white Sylk, who pronounced a proper Poezi in English 
 Rime and meeter." . . . " This her majestie benignly 
 accepting, passed foorth untoo the next gate of the
 
 A Gia,7i£s Portrait. 127 
 
 Brayz, which, for the length, largenes, and use they call 
 now the Tylt-yard ; whear a Porter, tall of Person, big 
 of lim and stearn of countinance, wrapt also all in Sylke, 
 with a club and keiz of quantitee according, had a rough 
 speech full of Passions, in meeter aptly made to the 
 purpose." 
 
 Be it here recorded that the Charioteers had the pleas- 
 ure while in London of looking upon the portrait of this 
 giant porter, which hangs in the King's Guard Chamber 
 at Hampton Court Palace. It is supposed to have been 
 painted by the Italian artist Ferdinando Zucchero, who, 
 it will be remembered, visited England. The fellow is 
 truly called " big of lim," for the canvas is more than 
 nine feet high and the figure, which is said to be of life 
 size, measures eight and a half feet. His hand is seven- 
 teen inches long. He stands with his left hand on his 
 hip and his right on a long rapier ; is dressed in large 
 balloon breeches, with black stockings, and a white 
 quilted vest with a black waistcoat over it ; and wears 
 a cap with a feather in it and a small ruff. The picture 
 was painted after the queen's visit to Kenilworth, for 
 the date 1580 is plainly to be seen in one of the upper 
 corners. 
 
 When the great porter had concluded, " six Trum- 
 petoours, every one an eight foot hye in due proportion 
 of Parson beside, all in long garments of Sylk suitabl," 
 who stood upon the wall over the gate, sounded a " tune 
 of welcum." These " armonious blasterz mainteined their
 
 128 Fotir-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 music very delectably," while the queen rode into the 
 inner gate, " where the Ladye of the Lake (famous in 
 King Arthurz Book) with two Nymphes waiting uppon 
 her, arrayed all in Sylks, attended her highness' coming. 
 From the midst of the Pool, whear uppon a moovable 
 Hand bright blazing with Torches, she floating to land, 
 met her majestie with a well-penned meeter," expressive 
 of the " Anncientie of the castl " and the hereditary 
 dignity of its owners. 
 
 " This Pageant was cloz'd up with a delectabl har- 
 mony of Hautboiz, Shalmz, Cornets, and such oother 
 loord Muzik," that held on while her majesty crossed a 
 bridge over a dry valley in front of the castle gate, the 
 different posts of which were decorated with fruits, flow- 
 ers, birds, and other decorations emblematic of the gifts 
 of Sylvanus, Pomona, Ceres, Neptune, and other divini- 
 ties. Having passed this, the main gate of the castle 
 was reached. Over it, on a " Tabl beautifully garnisht 
 aboove with her Highness' Arms" was inscribed a Latin 
 poem descriptive of the various tributes paid to her 
 arrival by the gods and goddesses. The verses were 
 read to her by a poet " in a long ceruleoous garment, 
 with a side and wide sleevz Venecian wize drawen up to 
 his elboz, his dooblet sleevz under that Crimson, noth- 
 ing but Sylk : a Bay garland on his head, and a skro in 
 his hand." . . . " So passing into the inner Coourt, 
 her majesty (that never rides but alone), thear sat 
 down from her palfrey, was conveied up to Chamber :
 
 Bear baiting. 129 
 
 When, after did folio so great peal of gunz, and such 
 lightning by fyrwork a long space toagither, as Jupiter 
 woold sheaw himself too be no furthur behind with his 
 welcoom than the rest of his gods." 
 
 The chronicler then gives an account of the festivi- 
 ties, which lasted seventeen days and comprised nearly 
 every amusement known to the period. On Sunday, 
 after " divine servis and preaching," the afternoon was 
 spent in " excellent muzik of sundry swet Instruments 
 and in dauncing of Lordes and Ladiez, and other woor- 
 shipfull degreez, uttered with such lively agilitee and 
 commendable grace az whither it moought be more 
 straunge too the eye, or pleazunt too the minde, for 
 my part indeed I coold not discern." 
 
 One morning was devoted to a bearbaiting, in which 
 thirteen bears and bandogs took part, " with such fend- 
 ing and prooving, with plucking and tugging, skratting 
 and byting, by plain tooth and nayll a to side and 
 toother, such expens of blood and leather waz thear 
 between them, as a moonths licking I ween will not 
 recoover." 
 
 Refined amusement, you say, for the Queen of Eng- 
 land and her court only three hundred years ago. But 
 not so fast, my dear lady ; think what three hundred 
 years hence will say of you and your amusements. Did 
 you not give us a lively description the other evening 
 of your riding after the hounds ? Lady Gay Spanker 
 herself, I thought, could not have done it better, and I 
 9
 
 f.T>o Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 am sure she was not more fascinating than you. But 
 long before one hundred years shall pass, my friend, ladies 
 in your station will be equally amazed that you could so 
 torture a poor hare or fox and feel it to be not only 
 not unworthy of a lady but a source of enjoyment to 
 you. I say your grandchild will blush for her grandma 
 as she shows to her children the picture of your lovely 
 face. What Queen Elizabeth is now in your eyes, what 
 Roman emperors in the bloody Coliseum were in hers, 
 you will be in the eyes of the third generation after 
 you. Think of this. Remember what Cowper says : 
 " I would not rank among my list of friends, 
 Though graced with polished manners and fine sense, 
 That man who needlessly sets foot upon a worm." 
 
 Men will give up such sports after a time ; but surely 
 we may expect women to find even in this day not only 
 no pleasure but even positive pain in such sports and 
 leave them to coarser natures. 
 
 Another day was marked by the exhibition of an 
 Italian tumbler, who displayed " such feats of agilitee, 
 in goinges, turninges, tumblinges, castings, hops, jumps, 
 leaps, skips, springs, gambaud, soomersauts, caprettiez, 
 and flights ; forward, backward, sydewize, a doownward, 
 upward, and with sundry windings, gyrings and circum- 
 flexions ; allso lightly and with such eaziness, as by me 
 in feaw words it is not expressibl by pen or speech I 
 tell yoo plain." On the second Sunday, after a " frute- 
 full Sermon," a " solemn Brydeale of a proper Coopl
 
 Sunday Amusements. 131 
 
 was appointed in the tylt-yard," attended by all the 
 country folk in holiday costume. This was followed by 
 Morris dances, a Coventry play, and other games. " By 
 my troth, Master Martyn, 'twaz a lively pastime ; I be- 
 leeve it woold have mooved sum man to a right meerry 
 mood, though had it be toold him hiz wife lay a dying." 
 And all this on the Holy Sawbath — for shame, Queen 
 Bess ! 
 
 Nearly every hour had its appointed sport, one amuse- 
 ment following another in endless variety, and the park 
 was peopled with mimic gods and goddesses who surprised 
 the queen with complimentary dialogues and addresses 
 at every turn. Dancing and feasting were kept up all 
 day long and far into the night, for no note was taken 
 of time. " The clok bell sang not a note all the while 
 her highness waz thear ; the clok also stood still withall ; 
 the handz of both the tablz stood firm and fast, allwayz 
 poynting at two a clok," the hour of banquet. 
 
 The day of our visit to Kenilworth was very warm, 
 even for Americans, and after luncheon we became a 
 lazy, sleepy party. I have a distinct recollection of an 
 upward and then a downward movement which awoke 
 me suddenly. One after another of the party, caught 
 asleep on a rug, was treated to a tossing amid screams 
 of laughter. We were all very drowsy, but a fresh 
 breeze arose as the sun declined, and remounting the 
 coach late in the afternoon we had a charming drive to 
 Stratford-on-Avon.
 
 132 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 Stratford-on-Avon, June 23. 
 Our resting-place was the Red Horse Inn, of which 
 Washington Irving has written so delightfully. One 
 can hardly say that he comes into Shakespeare's coun- 
 try, for one is always there, so deeply and widely has 
 his influence reached. We live in his land always ; but, 
 as we approached the quiet little village where he ap- 
 peared on earth, we could not help speculating upon the 
 causes which produced the prodigy. One almost expects 
 nature herself to present a different aspect to enable us 
 to account in some measure for the apparition of a being 
 so far beyond all others ; but it is not so — we see only 
 the quiet beauty which characterizes almost every part 
 of England. His sweet sonnets seem the natural out- 
 birth of the land. Where met he the genius of tragedy, 
 think you ? Surely not on the cultivated banks of the 
 gentle Avon, where all is so tame. But as Shakespeare 
 resembled other burghers of Stratford so much, not 
 showing upon the surface that he was that 
 
 " largest son of time 
 Who wandering sang to a listening world," 
 
 our search for external conditions as to his environment 
 need not be continued. Ordinary laws are inapplica- 
 ble — he was a law unto himself. How or why Shake- 
 speare was Shakespeare will be settled when there shall 
 be few problems of the race left to settle. It is well 
 that he lies on the banks of the Avon, for that requires
 
 Shakespeare s Tomb. 133 
 
 us to make a special visit to his shrine to worship him. 
 His mighty shade alone fills the mind. True mono- 
 theists are we all who make the pilgrimage to Stratford. 
 I have been there often, but I am always awed into 
 silence as I approach the church ; and when I stand 
 beside the ashes of Shakespeare I cannot repress stern, 
 gloomy thoughts, and ask why so potent a force is now 
 but a little dust. The inexplicable waste of nature, a mill- 
 ion born that one may live, seems nothing compared 
 to this — the brain of a god doing its work one day and 
 food for worms the next ! No wonder, George Eliot, 
 that this was ever the weight that lay upon your heart 
 and troubled you so ! 
 
 A cheery voice behind me. " What is the matter ? 
 Are you ill ? You look as if you hadn't a friend in the 
 world ! " Thanks, gentle remembrancer. This is no 
 time for the Scribe to forget himself. We are not out 
 for lessons or for moralizing. Things are and shall be 
 " altogether lovely." One must often laugh if one 
 would not cry. 
 
 Here is a funny conceit. A worthy draper in the 
 town has recently put an upright stone at the head of 
 his wife's grave, with an inscription setting forth the 
 dates of her birth and death, and beneath it the follow- 
 ing verse : 
 
 " For the Lord has done great things for us, whereof 
 we are exceeding glad." 
 
 The wretch ! One of the wives of our party declared
 
 134 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 that she could not like a man who could think at such a 
 crisis of such a verse, no matter how he meant it. She 
 was confident that he was one of those terribly resigned 
 kind of men who will find that the Lord has done great 
 things for him in the shape of a second helpmeet within 
 two years. 
 
 This led to a search for other inscriptions. Here is 
 one which struck our fancy : 
 
 " Under these ashes lies one close confined, 
 Who was to all both affable and kind ; 
 A neighbor good, extensive to ye poor, 
 Her soul we hope's at rest forevermore." 
 
 This was discussed and considered to go rather too 
 far. Good Swedenborgians still dispute about the 
 body's rising again, and make a great point of that, as 
 showing their superior wisdom, as if it mattered whether 
 we rise with this body or another, any more than 
 whether we wear one suit of clothes or another; the 
 great matter being that we rise at all. But this good 
 friend seems to bespeak rest forever for the soul. One 
 of us spoke of having lately seen a very remarkable col- 
 lection of passages from Scripture which seemed to 
 permit the hope that all for whom a kind father has 
 nothing better in store than perpetual torture will kindly 
 be permitted to rest. One of the passages in question 
 was : " For the wicked shall perish everlastingly." The 
 question was remitted to the theologians of our party,
 
 Everlasting Funis hme7it. 135 
 
 with instructions to give it prayerful consideration and 
 report. 
 
 If there be Scriptural warrant for the belief, I wish to 
 embrace it at once. Meanwhile I am not going to be 
 sure that any poor miserable sinner is to be disturbed 
 when after " life's fitful fever he sleeps well " on the ten- 
 der, forgiving bosom of mother earth, unless he can be 
 finally fitted for as good or a better life than this. 
 Therefore, good Emma and Ella and the rest who are 
 staunch dogmatists, be very careful how you report, for 
 it is a fearful thing to charge our Creator unjustly with 
 decreeing everlasting torture even to the worst offender 
 into whom He has breathed the breath of life. Refrain, 
 if possible, 
 
 " Under this conjuration speak ; 
 For we will hear, note, and believe in heart 
 That what you speak is in your conscience washed 
 As pure as sin with baptism." 
 
 I have not yet been favored with the report asked 
 for, and therefore the question rests. 
 
 The Charioteers got upon delicate ground occasion- 
 ally, as was to be expected, and although in all well 
 regulated families two subjects — politics and religion — 
 are proscribed, we came near running foul of the latter 
 to-day. There were wide differences of opinion among 
 us, of course, from the true blue Presbyterian, strong for 
 all the tenets of Calvin, down to the milder Episcopa- 
 lian who took more hopeful views and asked :
 
 136 Four-in-Hand in Britain, 
 
 " Shall there not be as good a ' Then ' as ' Now ' ? 
 Haply much better ! since one grain of rice 
 Shoots a green feather gemmed with fifty pearls, 
 And all the starry champak's white and gold 
 Lurks in those little, naked, gray spring-buds." 
 
 I related an incident which happened in Rome. As 
 I entered the general drawing room one evening, an ex- 
 citing discussion was going forward on the very subject 
 which we were then considering. A lady of rank was 
 giving expression to very advanced ideas which others 
 were combatting. An old gentleman at last said : 
 " Ladies and gentlemen, all this reminds me of a discus- 
 sion we young men were having once in my good old 
 father's hall, when my father happened to enter. After 
 listening to us a few minutes he said : ' Young men, 
 you may as well cease your arguing. I'll tell you all 
 about it. In this life 
 
 " Our ingress is naked and bare, 
 Our progress is trouble and care, 
 Our egress is — no one knows where. 
 
 If you do well here, you'll do well there, — 
 
 I could tell you no more if I preached for a year." 
 
 The effect was instantaneous. Unanimous adhesion 
 was given to the old gentleman's conclusion, and the 
 party bid each other a cordial good night and went 
 reconciled to bed. I am happy to record that such was 
 also the effect upon the Charioteers. 
 
 It will be taken for granted that while the Charioteers
 
 Shakespeare Stories. 137 
 
 were in this hallowed region many stories were told about 
 Shakespeare. Two of the gentlemen of our party, at 
 least, dated our love of letters to the circumstance that 
 we were messenger boys in the Pittsburgh telegraph 
 office ; and when we carried telegrams to the managers 
 of the theatre, good kind Mr. Porter (followed by one 
 equally kind to us, Mr. Foster) permitted us after deliv- 
 ering them to pass up to the gallery among the gods, 
 where we heard now and then one of the immortal plays. 
 Having heard the melodious flow of words, which of 
 themselves seem to have some spiritual meaning apart 
 from the letter — differing in this from all other combina- 
 tions of words — how could we rest till we got the plays 
 and learnt most of the notable passages by heart, croon- 
 ing over them till they became parts of our intellectual 
 being? One story, I remember, shows how completely 
 the master pervades literature. It is authentic, too, for 
 the teller was one of the actors in it. 
 
 Visiting friends in a country town, he went with the 
 family to church Sunday morning. The clergyman 
 called in the evening and seeing upon the parlor table 
 an open copy of Shakespeare, perhaps suspecting (which 
 was true) that our friend had been entertaining the ladies 
 with selections from it, Sunday evening as it was, he felt 
 moved to say that it was the worldling's bible, which for 
 himself he thought but little of and never recommended 
 for general reading. It was the mainstay of the theatre. 
 That is very strange, said our friend, for we have all been
 
 138 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 saying that the finest part of your sermon was a short 
 quotation from Shakespeare, and I have been reading the 
 whole passage to the ladies. Here it is : 
 
 " The quality of mercy is not strained ; 
 It droppeth, as the gentle rain from heaven, 
 Upon the place beneath : it is twice blessed ; 
 It blesses him that gives, and him that takes." 
 
 Imagine the feelings of the narrow, ignorant man, who 
 really thought he had a call from God to teach man- 
 kind. But he could not help it. A man can no more 
 escape the influence of Shakespeare than he can that of 
 surroundings. Shakespeare is the environment of all 
 English-speaking men. 
 
 Davie's Shakespearean story was of a fellow in Ve- 
 nango County who, having just " struck ile," bought from 
 a pedler a copy of " As You Like It." He was so pleased 
 with Touchstone that he wrote to the pedler : " If that 
 fellow Shakespeare ever writes anything more, be sure to 
 get me one of the first copies — and d — the expense ! " 
 
 We had one of the loveliest mornings imaginable for 
 leaving Stratford. Many had assembled to see the start, 
 and our horn sounded several parting blasts as we crossed 
 the bridge and rode out of the town. Our destination 
 was Coventry, twenty-two miles away, and the route lay 
 through Charlecote Park and Hampton Lucy. This was 
 one of the most perfect of all our days. The deer in 
 hundreds gazed on us as we passed. There were some 
 noble stags in the herd, the finest we had seen in Eng-
 
 Sir Thomas Lucy. 139 
 
 land, and Charlecote House was the best specimen of 
 an Elizabethan mansion. It was built about 1558 by 
 the very Sir Thomas Lucy whom Shakespeare satirized 
 as Justice Shallow. The original family name was 
 Charlecote or Cherlcote, but about the end of the twelfth 
 century William, son of Walter de Cherlcote, assumed 
 the name of Lucy and took for his arms three luces 
 (pike fish) ; so Justice Shallow was warranted in affirming 
 that his was an " old coat." The poet's verses will stick 
 to him as long as the world lasts ; but judging from other 
 circumstances, Sir Thomas was a very good sort of a 
 man and no doubt a fair specimen of the English Squire 
 of the time. His effigy may still be seen on his tomb 
 in Charlecote Church, beside that of his wife — a not un- 
 intelligent face, with moustache and peaked beard cut 
 square at the end, surrounded by the ruff then in fashion. 
 There is no epitaph of himself, but the marble bears a 
 warm memorial of his wife, who died five years before 
 him, concluding thus: 
 
 "Set down by him that best did know 
 What hath been written to be true." 
 
 Thomas Lucy. 
 
 It is commonly said that Shakespeare was arrested 
 for poaching in this very park, but the antiquaries have 
 decided that it was the old park of Fulbrook on the 
 Warwick road, where Fulbrook Castle once stood. But 
 it makes little difference where the precise place was. 
 That is of interest only to the Dryasdusts. All we care
 
 140 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 to know is that Shakespeare wanted a taste of venison 
 which was denied him, and took it without leave or 
 license. The descendant of that squire, my gentle 
 Shakespeare, would give you the entire herd for another 
 speech to " the poor sequestered stag," which you could 
 dash off — no, you never dashed off anything; create? 
 no ; evolved ? that's nearer it ; distilled — there we have 
 it — distilled as the pearls of dew are distilled by nature's 
 sweet influences unknown to man. He would exchange 
 Charlecote estate, man, for another Hamlet or Macbeth, 
 or Lear or Othello, and the world would buy it from him 
 for double the cost of all his broad acres, and esteem 
 itself indebted to him forever. The really precious 
 things of this world are its books. 
 
 To do things is not one-half the battle. Carlyle is 
 all wrong about this. To be able to tell the world 
 what you have done, that is the greater accomplish- 
 ment ! Caesar is the greatest man of the sword because 
 he was in his day the greatest man of the pen. Had 
 he known how to fight only, tradition would have 
 handed down his name for a few generations with a tol- 
 erably correct account of his achievements ; but now 
 every school-boy fights over again his battles and sur- 
 mounts the difficulties he surmounted, and so his fame 
 goes on increasing forever. 
 
 What a man says too often outlives what he does, 
 even when he does great things. General Grant's fame 
 is not to rest upon the fact that he was successful in 

 
 Beautiful Trees. 141 
 
 killing his fellow-citizens in a civil war, all traces of 
 which America wishes to obliterate, but upon the words 
 he said now and then. His "Push things!" will influ- 
 ence Americans when Vicksburg shall be forgotten. 
 " I propose to fight it out on this line " will be part of 
 the language when few will remember when it was 
 spoken ; and " Let us have peace " is Grant's most last- 
 ing monument. Truly, both the pen and the tongue 
 are mightier than the sword ! 
 
 The drive from Warwick to Leamington is famous, 
 but not comparable to that between Leamington and 
 Coventry. Nowhere else can be found such an avenue 
 of stately trees; for many miles a strip about two hun- 
 dred feet wide on both sides of the road is wooded. In 
 passing through this plantation many a time did we 
 bless the good, kind, thoughtful soul who generations 
 ago laid posterity under so great an obligation. Dead 
 and gone, his name known to the local antiquary and 
 appreciated by a few of the district, but never heard of 
 beyond it. " So shines a good deed in a naughty world." 
 Receive the warm thanks and God bless you of pilgrims 
 from a land now containing the majority of the Eng- 
 lish-speaking races, which was not even born when you 
 planted these stately trees. Americans come to bless 
 your memory ; for what says Sujata : 
 
 " For holy books teach when a man shall plant 
 Trees for the travellers' shade, and dig a well 
 For the folks' comfort, and beget a son, 
 It shall be good for such after their death."
 
 142 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 Who shall doubt that it is well with the dear, kind 
 soul who planted the thousand trees which delighted us 
 this day, nodding their graceful boughs in genial wel- 
 come to the strangers and forming a triumphal arch 
 in their honor. 
 
 Coventry, June 24. 
 Coventry in these days has a greater than Godiva. 
 George Eliot stands alone among women ; no second 
 near that throne. We visited the little school-room 
 where she learnt her first lessons ; but more than that, 
 the Mayor, who kindly conducted us through the city, 
 introduced us to a man who had been her teacher. " I 
 knew the strange little thing well," he said. A proud 
 privilege indeed ! I would have given much to know 
 George Eliot, for many reasons. I heard with some- 
 thing akin to fellowship that she longed to be at every 
 symphony, oratorio, or concert of classical music, and 
 rarely was that strong, brooding face missed at such 
 feasts. Indeed, it was through attending one of these 
 that she caught the cold which terminated fatally. 
 Music was a passion with her, as she found in it calm 
 and peace for the troubled soul tossed and tried by the 
 sad, sad things of life. I understand this. A friend 
 told me that a lady friend of hers, who was staying at 
 the hotel in Florence where George Eliot was, made 
 her acquaintance casually without knowing her name. 
 Something, she knew not what, attracted her to her, 
 and after a few days she began sending flowers to the
 
 George Eliot. 143 
 
 strange woman. Completely fascinated, she went 
 almost daily for hours to sit with her. This continued 
 for many days, the lady using the utmost freedom, and 
 not without feeling that the attention was pleasing to 
 the queer, plain, and unpretending Englishwoman. One 
 day she discovered by chance who her companion 
 really was. Never before, as she said, had she felt such 
 mortification. She went timidly to George Eliot's room 
 and took her hand in hers, but shrank back unable to 
 speak, while the tears rolled down her cheeks. " What 
 is wrong ? " was asked, and then the explanation came, 
 " I didn't know who you were. I never suspected it 
 was you/" Then came George Eliot's turn to be em- 
 barrassed. " You did not know I was George Eliot, but 
 you were drawn to plain me all for my own self, a 
 woman? I am so happy!" She kissed the American 
 lady tenderly, and the true friendship thus formed knew 
 no end, but ripened to the close. 
 
 The finest thing not in her works that I know this 
 genius to have said is this : Standing one day leaning 
 upon the mantel she remarked : " I can imagine the 
 coming of a day when the effort to relieve human beings 
 in distress will be as involuntary upon the part of the 
 beholder as to clasp this mantel would be this moment 
 on my part were I about to fall." There's an ideal for 
 you ! Christ might have said that. 
 
 The state here imagined is akin to her friend Her- 
 bert Spencer's grand paragraph. 
 
 \
 
 144 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 " Conscientiousness has in many outgrown that stage 
 in which the sense of a compelling power is joined 
 with rectitude of action. The truly honest man, here 
 and there to be found, is not only without thought of 
 legal, religious, or social compulsion, when he discharges 
 an equitable claim on him ; but he 5s without thought 
 of self-compulsion. He does the right thing with a 
 simple feeling of satisfaction in doing it, and is indeed 
 impatient if anything prevents him from having the sat- 
 isfaction of doing it." Who is going to cloud the hori- 
 zon of the future of our race with traitor-doubts when 
 already, in our own day, amid much which saddens us, 
 the beams of a brighter sun, herald of a better day, 
 already touch the mountain tops, for such are this 
 woman and this man towering above their fellows. By 
 and by these beams will reach the lesser heights — and 
 anon, the very plains will be transformed by them, and 
 
 " Man to man the world o'er shall brothers be, 
 
 And a' that." 
 
 I think that because we are so happy in this glorious 
 life we are now leading, we are disposed to be so very 
 kind to each other. The Charioteers, one and all, seem 
 to me to have reached Mr. Spencer's ideal. If there's a 
 thing that can be done to promote the happiness of 
 others, they are only impatient till they have the satis- 
 faction of doing it. Happiness is known to be a great 
 beautifier — but is it not also a great doer of good
 
 George Eliot's Poetry. 145 
 
 to others? It was resolved to debate the question 
 whether the happy person is not also the one who really 
 thinks most and does most for others — not for hope of 
 reward or fear of punishment, but simply because he 
 has reached the stage where he has a simple satisfaction 
 in doing it. 
 
 Here is George Eliot's greatest thing in poetry, for 
 her poems are much less known than they should be. 
 
 "O may I join the choir invisible 
 Of those immortal dead who live again 
 In minds made better by their presence : live 
 In pulses stirred to generosity, 
 In deeds of daring rectitude, in scorn 
 For miserable aims that end with self, 
 In thoughts sublime that pierce the night like stars, 
 And with their mild persistence urge men's search 
 To vaster issues. 
 ********* 
 
 " May I reach 
 That purest heaven, be to other souls 
 The cup of strength in some great agony, 
 Enkindle generous ardor, feed pure love, 
 Beget the smiles that have no cruelty — 
 Be the sweet presence of a good diffused, 
 And in diffusion ever more intense. 
 So shall I join the choir invisible 
 Whose music is the gladness of the world." 
 
 One thing more about our heroine, and a grand thing, 
 
 said by Colonel Ingersoll. " In the court of her own 
 10
 
 146 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 conscience she sat pure as light, stainless as a star." I 
 believe that, my dear Colonel. Why can you not give 
 the world such gems as you are capable of, and let us 
 alone about future things, concerning which you know 
 no more than a new-born babe or a D.D. ? 
 
 There is a good guide-book for Coventry, and there's 
 much to tell about that city. It was once the ecclesias- 
 tical centre of England. Parliaments have sat there 
 and great things have been done in Coventry. Many 
 curious and valuable papers are seen in the hall. There 
 is the order of Queen Elizabeth to her truly and well- 
 beloved Mayor of Coventry, directing him to assist 
 Earls Huntingdon and Shrewsbury in good charge of 
 Mary Queen of Scots. There is a mace given by Crom- 
 well to the corporation. You see that ruler of men 
 could bestow maces as well as order his troopers to 
 " take away that bauble " when the commonwealth 
 required nursing. These and many more rare treasures 
 are kept in an old building which is not fire-proof — a 
 clear tempting of Providence. If I ever become so 
 great a man as a councillor of Coventry, my maiden 
 speech shall be upon the enormity of this offence. A 
 councillor who carried a vote for a fire-proof building 
 should some day reach the mayorship. This is a hint 
 to our friends there. 
 
 The land question still troubles England, but even 
 in Elizabeth's time it was thought not unconstitutional 
 to fix rents arbitrarily. Here lies an edict of Her
 
 Coventry Cathedral. 147 
 
 Majesty good Queen Bess, fixing the rates for pastur- 
 age on the commons near Coventry : " For one cow 
 per week, one penny ; for one horse, two-pence." Our 
 agriculturists should take this for a basis, a Queen 
 Elizabeth valuation ! I suppose some expert or other 
 could figure the " fair rent " for anything, if given this 
 basis to start upon. 
 
 The churches are very fine, the stained-glass windows 
 excelling in some respects any we have seen, the amount 
 of glass is so much greater. The entire end of one of 
 the cathedral churches is filled by three immense win- 
 dows reaching from floor to roof, the effect of which is 
 very grand. The choir of this church is not in line with 
 the other portion of the building. In reply to my 
 inquiry why this was so, the guide boldly assured us, 
 with a look of surprise at our ignorance, that all cathe- 
 drals are so constructed, and that the crooked choir 
 symbolizes the head of Christ, which is always repre- 
 sented leaning to one side of the cross. The idea made 
 me shiver ; I felt as if I should never be able to walk 
 up the aisle of a cathedral again without an unpleasant 
 sensation. Thanks to a clear-headed, thorough-going 
 young lady, who, "just didn't believe it," we soon got 
 at the truth about cathedrals, for she proved that they 
 are everywhere built on straight lines. This guide fitly 
 illustrates the danger of good men staying at home in 
 their little island. His cathedral is crooked, and there- 
 fore all others are or should be so. Very English this,
 
 148 
 
 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 very. There are many things still crooked in the deaf 
 old tight little isle which other lands have straightened 
 out long ago, or rather never built crooked. Hurry up, 
 you leader of nations in generations past ! It's not your 
 role in the world to lag behind ; at least it has not been 
 till lately, when others have " bettered your instruC' 
 tion." Come along, England, you are not done for; 
 only stir yourself, and the lead is still yours. The guide 
 was a theological student, and therefore could not be 
 expected to have much general knowledge, but he surely 
 should have known something about cathedrals. 
 
 It rained at Coventry during breakfast, and friend G. 
 ventured to suggest that perhaps some of the ladies 
 might prefer going by rail to Birmingham and join the 
 coach there, at luncheon ; but 
 
 " He did not know the stuff 
 Of our gallant crew, so tough, 
 On board the Charioteer O." 
 
 He was " morally sat upon," as Lucy says. Not a 
 lady but indignantly repelled the suggestion. Even Mrs. 
 G., a bride, and naturally somewhat in awe of her hus- 
 band yet, went so far as to say " Tom is a little queer 
 this morning." 
 
 Waterproofs and umbrellas to the front, we sallied 
 forth from the courtyard of the Queen's in a drenching 
 down-pour. 
 
 " But what care we how wet we be, 
 By the coach we'll live or die."
 
 The Oxford Don. 149 
 
 That was the sentiment which animated our breasts. 
 For my part I was very favorably situated, and I held 
 my umbrella very low to shield my fair charge the bet- 
 ter. Of course I greatly enjoyed the first few miles 
 under such conditions. My young lady broke into song, 
 and I thought I caught the sense of the words, which I 
 fondly imagined was something like this : 
 
 " For if you are under an umbrella 
 With a very handsome fellow, 
 It cannot matter much what the weather may be." 
 
 I asked if I had caught the words correctly, but she 
 archly insinuated there was something in the second 
 line that wasn't quite correct. I think, though, she 
 was only in fun ; the words were quite right, only her 
 eyes seemed to wander in the direction of young B. 
 
 None of the ladies would go inside, so Joe had the 
 compartment all to himself, and no doubt smiled at the 
 good joke as we bowled along. Joe was dry inside, and 
 Perry, though outside, was just the same ere we found 
 an inn. This recalled the story of the coachman and 
 the Oxford Don, when the latter expressed his sym- 
 pathy at the condition of the former ; so sorry he was 
 so wet. " Wouldn't mind being so wet, your honor, if 
 I weren't so dry." But I think R. P.'s story almost as 
 good as that. A Don tried to explain to the coachman 
 the operation of the telegraph as they drove along. 
 "They take a glass about the size of an ordinary
 
 150 Four-in-Hand in Britain* 
 
 tumbler, and this they fill with a liquid resembling— 
 ah — like — ah — " " Anything like beer, your honor, for 
 instance?" If Jehu didn't get his complimentary glass 
 at the next halt, that Don was a muff. 
 
 The rain ceased, as usual, before we had gone far, 
 and we had a clear dry run until luncheon. We see the 
 Black Country now, rows of little dingy houses beyond, 
 with tall smoky chimneys vomiting smoke, mills and 
 factories at every turn, coal pits and rolling mills and 
 blast furnaces, the very bottomless pit itself ; and such 
 dirty, careworn children, hard-driven men, and squalid 
 women. To think of the green lanes, the larks, the 
 Arcadia we have just left. How can people be got to 
 live such terrible lives as they seem condemned to 
 here? Why do they not all run away to the green 
 fields just beyond? Pretty rural Coventry suburbs in 
 the morning and Birmingham at noon ; the lights and 
 shadows of human existence can rarely be brought into 
 sharper contrast. If 
 
 '* Better fifty years of Europe than a cycle of Cathay " 
 
 surely better a year in Leamington than life's span in 
 the Black Country ! But do not let us forget that it is 
 just Pittsburgh over again ; nay, not even quite so bad, 
 for that city bears the palm for dirt against the world. 
 The fact is, however, that life in such places seems at- 
 tractive to those born to rural life, and large smoky 
 cities drain the country ; but surely this may be safely
 
 Overworked Americans. 151 
 
 attributed to necessity. With freedom to choose, one 
 would think the rush would be the other way. The 
 working classes in England do not work so hard or so 
 unceasingly as do their fellows in America. They have 
 ten holidays to the American's one. Neither does their 
 climate entail such a strain upon men as ours does. 
 
 I remember after Vandy and I had gone round the 
 world and were walking Pittsburgh streets, we decided 
 that the Americans were the saddest-looking race we 
 had seen. Life is so terribly earnest here. Ambition 
 spurs us all on, from him who handles the spade to him 
 who employs thousands. We know no rest. It is dif- 
 ferent in the older lands — men rest oftener and enjoy 
 more of what life has to give. The young Republic has 
 some things to teach the parent land, but the elder has 
 an important lesson to teach the younger in this respect. 
 In this world we must learn not to lay up our treasures, 
 but to enjoy them day by day as we travel the path we 
 never return to. If we fail in this we shall find when 
 we do come to the days of leisure that we have lost the 
 taste for and the capacity to enjoy them. There are so 
 many unfortunates cursed with plenty to retire upon, 
 but with nothing to retire to ! Sound wisdom that 
 school-boy displayed who did not " believe in putting 
 away for to-morrow the cake he could eat to-day." It 
 might not be fresh on the morrow, or the cat might steal 
 it. The cat steals many a choice bit from Americans 
 intended for the morrow. Among the saddest of all
 
 152 Four -in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 spectacles to me is that of an elderly man occupying 
 his last years grasping for more dollars. " The richest 
 man in America sailing suddenly for Europe to escape 
 business cares," said a wise Scotch gentleman to me, 
 one morning, as he glanced over the Times at breakfast. 
 Make a note of that, my enterprising friends, and let 
 it be recorded here that this was written before my 
 friend Herbert Spencer preached to us the gospel of 
 relaxation. 
 
 It has always been assumed that dirt and smoke are 
 necessary evils in manufacturing towns, but the next 
 generation will probably wonder how men could be in- 
 duced to live under such disagreeable conditions. Many 
 of us will live to see all the fuel which is now used in so 
 thriftless a way converted into clean gas before it is fed 
 to the furnaces, and thus consumed without poisoning 
 the atmosphere with smoke, which involves at the same 
 time so great a loss of carbon. Birmingham and Pitts- 
 burgh will some day rejoice in unsullied skies, and even 
 London will be a clean city. 
 
 We spent the afternoon in Birmingham, and enjoyed 
 a great treat in the Public Hall, in which there is one of 
 the best organs of the world. It is played every Satur- 
 day by an eminent musician, admission free. This is 
 one of the little— no, one of the great — things done for 
 the masses in many cities in England, the afternoon of 
 Saturday being kept as a holiday everywhere. 
 
 Here is the programme for Saturday, June 25 :
 
 ®<ruro gaU $*p« ftwM. 
 
 BY MR. STIMPSOH. 
 
 From 3 till 4 o'clock. 
 
 frogrammt for lunc 25, 1881: 
 
 1. Overture to A Midsummer Night" s Dream, Mendelssohn. 
 
 (It will only be necessary to state this descriptive Overture was 
 written in Berlin, August 6, 1826. Shakespeare and Mendelssohn 
 must have been kindred spirits, for surely no more poetic in- 
 spiration ever came from the pen of any musical composer than 
 the Overture of the great German master.) 
 
 2. Romanza, - - - _ - - Haydn. 
 
 (This charming Movement is taken from the Symphony which 
 Haydn wrote in 1786, for Paris, entitled " La Reinede France," 
 and has been arranged for the organ by Mr. Best, of Liverpool ) 
 
 3. Offertoire, in F major, — - - - Batiste. 
 
 'All the works of the French masters, Wely, Batiste, Guilmant, 
 and Saint- Saens, if not severely classical, have a certain grace 
 and charm which make them acceptable to even the most preju- 
 diced admirers of the ancient masters ; and this Offertoire of 
 Batiste is one of the most popular of his compositions.) 
 
 4. Fugue in G minor, - — - - J- S. Bach. 
 
 (It may interest connoisseurs to know this grand Fugue was se- 
 lected by the Umpires for the trial of skill when the present 
 Organist of the Town Hall was elected.) 
 
 5. Jag lied {Hunting Song), - Schumann. 
 
 6. Selection from the Opera " Martha," - - Flotow. 
 
 (The Opera from which this selection is taken was written in Vi- 
 enna, in 1847, ana \ m conjunction with " Stradella," at once 
 stamped the name of the author as one of the most popular of 
 the dramatic composers of the present day.) 
 
 7. Dead March in Saul, - - - - Handel 
 
 Price ©ne §alfpcnnij, 
 
 ^ ■»■ »■ 
 
 The. next Free Organ Recital will be given on July 2d, 
 
 AT THREE O'CLOCK. 
 
 A HISTORY of the TOWN HALL ORGAN (a New Edition, Revised and 
 Enlarged,) by Mr. STIMPSON, 
 
 Is now ready, and may be had in the Town Hall, and the Midland Educational 
 Co.'s Warehouse, New Street. 
 
 NOTICE— A box will be placed at eacb door to receive contributions, to 
 defray the expenses of these Recitals.
 
 154 
 
 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 The Prima Donna said she had never before heard an 
 organ so grandly played, and she knows. The manage- 
 ment of the left hand in the fugue she declared wonder- 
 ful. It is best to give the best for the masses, even in 
 music, the highest of our gifts. John Bright has made 
 most of his speeches in this hall, but it is no longer large 
 enough for the Liberal demonstrations, and a much 
 larger structure has been erected. 
 
 We are behind in providing music for the people, but 
 it says much for the progress of the Republic in these 
 higher domains, from whence come sweetness and light, 
 that the greatest tragic singer, Frau Materna, said to a 
 friend that she would tell Herr Wagner upon her return 
 that if he wished to hear his greatest music performed 
 better than ever it had been before he must come to 
 New York. Alas ! even as I re-write these pages comes 
 the sad news that we can reap no more from that genius. 
 He has made his contribution to the world, and a noble 
 one it is, rejoicing many hearts and lifting many above 
 their surroundings to exquisite enjoyments beyond ; and 
 now he closes his eyes and vanishes ; the long day's task 
 is ended and he must sleep. 
 
 To-night the Symphony Society substitutes for an- 
 other number of their programme his Funeral March. It 
 will seem like a voice from the grave not a dry eye, nor 
 a cold heart will be in the house. A soul has taken 
 flight to whom we are under obligation, which must in- 
 crease and increase the longer we live, for it has given
 
 Eurnaces and Coalpits. 155 
 
 expression to much that is of our highest and best, and 
 suggested a thousandfold more than ever could be 
 expressed. Our benefactor is indeed gone, in a sense 
 material, but his soul lives with us and his voice will still 
 be heard calling us up higher. The man who reveals new 
 beauties in music enriches human life in one of its highest 
 phases, and is to be ranked with the true poet. He who 
 composes great music is the equal of him who writes great 
 words ; Beethoven, Handel, and Wagner are worthy- 
 compeers of Shakespeare, Milton, and Burns. 
 
 The eleven miles between Birmingham and Wolver- 
 hampton are nothing but one vast iron-working, coal- 
 mining establishment. There is scarcely a blade of grass 
 of any kind to be seen, and not one real clean pure blade 
 did we observe during the journey. It was Saturday- 
 afternoon and the mills were all idle, and the operatives 
 thronged the villages through which we drove. O mills 
 and furnaces and coal-pits and all the rest of you, you 
 may be necessary, but you are no bonnie ! Pittsburghers 
 though many of us were, inured to smoke and dirt, we 
 felt the change very deeply from the hedgerows, the 
 green pastures, the wild flowers and pretty clean cot- 
 tages, and voted the district " horrid." Wolverhamp- 
 ton's steeples soon came into sight, and we who had been 
 there and could conjure up dear, honest, kindly faces 
 waiting to welcome us with warm hearts, were quite re- 
 stored to our usual spirits, notwithstanding dirt and 
 squalor. The sun of a warm welcome from friends gives
 
 156 Four-in-Hand in Britain, 
 
 many clouds a silver lining, and it did make the black 
 country brighter. The coach and horses, and Joe and 
 Perry, not to mention our generalissimo, belong to Wol- 
 verhampton, as you know, and our arrival had been 
 looked for by many. The crowd was quite dense in the 
 principal street as we drove through. One delegation 
 after another was left at friends' houses, the Charioteers 
 having been billeted upon the connection ; and here for 
 the first time we were to enjoy a respite. 
 
 Wolverhampton, June 25-30. 
 
 We were honored by an entertainment at his Honor 
 the Mayor's. As usual on fine days in England, the 
 attractions of the mansion (and they are not small in 
 this case) gave place to open-air enjoyments on the 
 lawn — the game, the race, the stroll, and all the rest of 
 the sports which charm one in this climate. The race 
 across the lawn was far better fun than the Derby, but 
 our gentlemen must go into strict training before they 
 challenge those English girls again. It is some consola- 
 tion that Iroquois has since vindicated the glory of the 
 Republic. 
 
 We coached one day about fourteen miles to Apley 
 House, and had a joyous picnic day with our friends 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. S , of Newton. The party numbered 
 
 seventy odd, great and small. That day the Charioteers 
 agreed should be marked as a red-letter day in their 
 annals, for surely never was a day's excursion produc-
 
 Small Rivers. 157 
 
 tive of more enjoyment to all of us. There are few, if 
 any, prettier views in England than that from the ter- 
 race at Apley House. The Vale of Severn deserves its 
 reputation. We had a trip on the river for several 
 miles from Bridgenorth to the grounds as part of the 
 day's pleasure. 
 
 How very small England's great rivers are ! I re- 
 member how deeply hurt Mr. F was when his Yan- 
 kee nephew (H. P. Jr., Our Pard) visited him for the 
 first time, and was shown the river by his uncle, who 
 loved it. " Call this a river ? " exclaimed he, " why, it's 
 only a creek ! I could almost jump across it there." 
 But H. P. was young then, and would not have hesitated 
 to " speak disrespectfully of the equator " upon occa- 
 sion. I won the good man's heart at once by saying 
 that small though it was in size (and what has either 
 he or I to boast of in that line, I wonder?) little Severn 
 filled a larger space in the world's destiny and the 
 world's thoughts than twenty mighty streams. Listen : 
 
 " Three times they breathed and three times did they drink 
 Upon agreement of swift Severn's flood, 
 Who then, affrighted with their bloody looks, 
 Ran fearfully among the trembling reeds 
 And hid his crisp head in the hollow bank, 
 Blood-stained with these violent combatants." 
 
 Why, you have not a river like that in all America. 
 H. P. was judiciously silent. But I do not think he was
 
 158 
 
 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 ever quite forgiven. These Americans have always 
 such big ideas. 
 
 The free library at Wolverhampton interested me. 
 I do not know where better proof of the advantages of 
 such an institution is to be found. It was started upon 
 a small scale, about fifteen thousand dollars being ex- 
 pended ; now some forty thousand dollars have been 
 spent upon the building. Last year eighty-six thousand 
 books were issued. I counted at noon, June 30th, sixty- 
 three persons in the reading-room, and at another time 
 nearly two hundred readers. On Saturdays, between 
 two and ten P.M., the number averages fully a thou- 
 sand. In addition to the circulating library, there are a 
 reference library, a museum, and large reading-rooms. 
 Several courses of lectures are connected with the insti- 
 tution, with teachers for the various branches. One 
 teacher, a Mr. Williams, has " passed " scholars in the 
 science and art department every year, and one year 
 every one of his scholars passed the Kensington examina- 
 tion. A working plumber who attended these classes 
 gained prizes for chemistry and electricity, and is now 
 secretary of the water-works at Chepstow. We may 
 hear more of that climber yet. Plenty of room at the 
 top ! No sectarian papers are subscribed for, but all 
 reputable publications are received if sent. In this way 
 all sects are represented by their best, if the members 
 see fit to contribute them. This is the true plan. 
 " Error may be tolerated if truth be free to combat it.
 
 A Peoples Library. 159 
 
 Let truth and error grapple." This city levies one 
 penny per pound upon the rates, as authorized by the 
 Libraries act. This nets about four thousand dollars per 
 annum. Just see what powerful agencies for the im- 
 provement of the people can be set on foot for a trifling 
 sum. 
 
 And do not fail to note that this library, like all others 
 in Britain organized under the Libraries act, does not 
 pauperize a people. It is no man's library, but the 
 library of the people — their own, maintained and paid 
 for by public taxation to which all contribute. An en- 
 dowed library is just like an endowed church, at best 
 half and generally wholly asleep. It is a great mistake 
 to withdraw from such an institution the healthy breeze 
 of public criticism ; besides this, people never appreciate 
 what is wholly given to them so highly as that to which 
 they themselves contribute. 
 
 Wolverhampton is a go-ahead city (I note a strong 
 Scotch element there). A fine park, recently acquired 
 and laid out with taste, shows that the physical well- 
 being of the people is not lost sight of. The admin- 
 istration of our friend ex-Mayor D. is to be credited 
 with this invaluable acquisition. Mr. D. took the 
 most prominent part in the matter, and having suc- 
 ceeded he can consider the park his own estate. It is 
 not in any sense taken away from him, nor one of its 
 charms lessened, because his fellow-citizens share its 
 blessings. Indeed as I strolled through it with him I
 
 160 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 thought the real sense of ownership must be sweeter 
 from the thousands of his fellows whom we saw rejoic- 
 ing within it than if he were indeed the lordly owner in 
 fee and rented it for revenue. This whole subject of 
 meum and tuum needs reconsideration. If Burns, when 
 he held his plough in joy upon the mountain-side and 
 saw what he saw, felt what he felt, was not more truly 
 the real possessor of the land than the reputed nominal 
 landlord, then I do not grasp the subject. There are 
 woeful blunders made as to the ownership of things. 
 Who owns the treasures of the Sunderland or Hamilton 
 libraries ? and who will shed the tears over their disper- 
 sion, think you, chief mourner by virtue of deepest loss, 
 the titled dis-graces, in whose names they stand, or the 
 learned librarian whose days have been spent in holy 
 companionship with them ? It is he who has made 
 them his own, drawn them from their miserable owners 
 into his heart. I tell you a man cannot be the real 
 owner of a library or a picture gallery without a title 
 from a much higher tribunal than the law. Nor a horse 
 either, for that matter. Who owns your favorite horse ? 
 Test it ! I say the groom does. Call Habeeb or Rod- 
 erick. So slow their response ! I won't admit they 
 don't know and like me too. John knows my weakness 
 and stands out of sight and lets me succeed slowly with 
 them ; but after that, see at one word from him how 
 they prick up their ears and neigh, dance in their boxes, 
 push their grand heads under his arm, and say as plainly
 
 Sister Dora. 161 
 
 as can be, "This is our man." I'm only a sleeping 
 partner with John in them after all. It's the same all 
 through ; go to your dogs, or out to your flocks, and see 
 every sheep, and even the little lambs, the cows with 
 their kind, glowering eyes, the chickens, and every liv- 
 ing thing run from you to throng round the hand that 
 feeds them. There is no real purchase in money, you 
 must win friendship and ownership in the lower range 
 of life with kindness, companionship, love ; the coin of 
 the realm is not legal tender with Trust, or Habeeb, or 
 Brownie, nor with any of the tribe. 
 
 Let us not forget to chronicle a visit paid to Wal- 
 sall, the scene of Sister Dora's labors. It is only seven 
 miles from Wolverhampton in the very heart of the black 
 country. Dr. T. drove us out to the crowded smoky 
 town, and we followed him through the hospital and 
 heard from the officials many interesting stories of that 
 wonderful woman. Our friend the Doctor also knew 
 her well. She has been known to rush through a crowd 
 and separate brutal men who were fighting. The most 
 debased of that ignorant mining and iron manufacturing 
 population seemed under her influence to an incredible 
 degree ; but then her sympathy and her tender devo- 
 tion to every human being in distress were no doubt 
 the secret of her power. A desperate case was brought 
 into the hospital late one night. The physicians pro- 
 nounced his recovery hopeless, but Sister Dora was not 
 
 satisfied ; indeed, she seemed to feel instinctively that 
 ii
 
 l62 
 
 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 the man had still a chance. She told the physicians to 
 leave him, as she felt that they could do little good 
 after they had given up hope, and took charge of the 
 case herself. She told the poor wretch that she was 
 going to stand by him all night and bring him through ; 
 and having faith herself she inspired it in the patient, 
 and the result was that she actually saved the man's 
 life. Here is the very material for a saint. Had this 
 occurred a few generations ago, or were it to occur in 
 some parts of Italy to-day, Saint Dora would surely be 
 added to the calendar, and why not ! Let us dispute 
 over the miraculous and supernatural as we may, who 
 will deny that the faith of this noble woman and the 
 faith transmitted from her sympathetic heart to the 
 poor sufferer were the foundation upon which his re- 
 covery was built up ? 
 
 This incident gave rise to a discussion upon the 
 coach one day as to the influence of faith in one's abil- 
 ity to do certain things affecting the result. The man 
 who goes in to win may win : the one who goes in to 
 lose can't win. So far all were agreed. Some of our 
 party were disposed to lament the lack of faith which 
 characterizes this age. " There are no Abrahams now- 
 a-days," said one. " What would you do, Tom, if you 
 should receive a message commanding you to offer up 
 your son upon the altar?" "Well," said Tom, who 
 was a telegraph operator in his early days, " I think I 
 should first ask to have that message repeated." All
 
 English Hospitality. 163 
 
 right. So would we all of us. Still there is a wide 
 province for faith. If it does not exactly remove 
 mountains now a days, it at least enables us to tunnel 
 them, which is much the same thing as far as prac- 
 tical results are concerned. 
 
 We can tell you nothing of the hotels of Wolver- 
 hampton, but the fourteen of us can highly recommend 
 certain quarters where it was our rare privilege to be 
 honored guests. Whether the English eat and drink 
 more than the Americans may be a debatable question, 
 but they certainly do so oftener. The young ladies 
 quartered at Newbridge reported this the only bar to 
 perfect happiness ; they never wanted to leave the gar- 
 den for meals nor to remain so long at table. As the 
 Prima Donna reported, they " just sound a gong and 
 spring luncheons and teas and suppers on you." The 
 supper is an English institution, even more sacred than 
 the throne, and destined to outlive it. You cannot 
 escape it, and to tell the truth, after a little you have no 
 wish to do so. There is much enjoyment at supper, and 
 in Scotland this is the toddy-time, and who would miss 
 that hour of social glee ! 
 
 Mention must be made of the private theatricals at 
 Merridale and of the amateur concert at Clifton House, 
 both highly creditable to the talented performers and 
 productive of great pleasure to the guests. I find a 
 programme of the latter and incorporate it as part of 
 the record :
 
 Olttfaw §0«^, Wolwrto^tfltt, 
 
 JUNE 29TH, 1881. 
 
 ^Pl^0GWJflfIE*@F*MagIC^ 
 
 Pianoforte Duet . . "Oberon " . . . . Rent! ' Favayer 
 Misses A. J. B. and A. C. B. 
 
 Song "Twenty-one" Molloy 
 
 Miss S. D. 
 
 Song "The Raft" Pinsuti 
 
 Mr. B. P. 
 
 Ladies' Trio . . " O Skylark, for thy wing " . . . . Smart 
 
 The Misses B. and Miss D. 
 Song . . . . " A Summer Shower " . . . . Marziales 
 
 Miss D. 
 
 Song . . . . " The Better Land " Cowen 
 
 Miss M. B. 
 
 Song . . . . " The Lost Chord " . . . . Sullivan 
 
 Miss P. 
 
 Pianoforte Solo . . "La Cascade " Patter 
 
 Miss A. D. 
 
 Song . . . . " Let me dream again " . . . . Sullivan 
 
 Miss R. 
 
 Song "The Diver" Loder 
 
 Mr. A. B. 
 
 Song . . . . " My Nannie's awa' " 
 
 Miss J. J. 
 
 Duet . . " When the Wind blows in from the Sea " . . Smart 
 
 Miss M. B. and Mr. B. P. 
 Song . . . . " For ever and for ever " . . Paolo Tosti 
 
 Miss A. J. B. 
 Song . . . . " The Boatswain's Story" . . . . . Molloy 
 
 Mr. B. P. 
 
 GOD SAVE THE QUEEN.
 
 Private Theatricals. 165 
 
 A great many fine compliments have been paid to 
 performers in this world, but do you remember one 
 much better than this ? Our Prima Donna sang " My 
 Nannie's awa'," my favorite among twenty favorites; 
 and she did sing it that night to perfection. We were 
 all proud of her. When she returned to her seat next 
 to M., there was whispered in her ear: "Oh, Jeannie, 
 the lump's in my throat yet ! " All the hundred warm 
 expressions bestowed upon her did not weigh as much 
 as that little gem of a tribute. When you raise the 
 lump in the throat by a song you are upon the right 
 key and have the proper style, even if your teacher has 
 been no other than your own heart, the most important 
 teacher of all. 
 
 After the theatricals at Merridale came the feast. 
 The supper-table comes before me, and the speeches. 
 The orator of the Wolverhampton connection is ex- 
 Mayor B. He speaks well, and never did he appear to 
 greater advantage than on that evening. It's a sight 
 "gude for sair een" to see a good-natured, kindly Eng- 
 lish gentleman presiding at the festive board, surrounded 
 by his children and his children's children, and the 
 family connections to the number of seventy odd. 
 They are indeed a kindly people, but oh dear ! those 
 who have never been out of their little island, even the 
 most liberal of them, have such queer, restricted notions 
 about the rest of mankind ! This, however, is only 
 natural ; travel is in one sense the only possible educator.
 
 i66 
 
 Four-in-Ha,7id in Britain. 
 
 England has been so far ahead of the world until the 
 present generation, that it is difficult for her sons to 
 believe she is sleeping too long. The best speech of 
 the evening upon our side was made by Our Pard, who 
 said he felt that after he had forgotten all else about 
 this visit, the smiling faces of the pretty, rosy-cheeked 
 English young ladies he had been admiring ever since 
 he came to Wolverhampton, and never more ardently 
 than this evening, would still haunt his thoughts; and 
 then, with more emphasis, he closed with these memor- 
 able words: "And I tell you, if ever young men ask me 
 where they can find the nicest, sweetest, prettiest, and 
 best young ladies for wives, they won't have to ask 
 twice." (Correct ! shake, Pard !) 
 
 We were fortunate in seeing the statue of Mr. Vil- 
 liers unveiled. Earl Granville spoke with rare grace 
 and ease, his style being so far beyond that of the other 
 speakers that they suffered by comparison. The sledge- 
 hammer style of oratory is done. Let ambitious 
 youngsters make a note of that, and no longer strut and 
 bellow, and tear a passion all to tatters, to very rags. 
 Shakespeare understood it : 
 
 " In the very tempest and I may say whirlwind of your passion, 
 You must beget a temperance to give it utterance." 
 
 The effort now making throughout Great Britain to 
 provide coffee-houses as substitutes for the numerous 
 gin palaces has not been neglected in Wolverhampton.
 
 Coffee Houses. 167 
 
 The Coffee House Company which operates in the city 
 and neighborhood has now fourteen houses in success- 
 ful operation, and, much to my astonishment and grati- 
 fication, I learned that seven and a half per cent, divi- 
 dends were declared and about an equal amount of profit 
 reserved for contingencies. In Birmingham there are 
 twenty houses, and cash dividends of ten per cent, per 
 annum have been made. If they can be generally made 
 to pay even half as well, a grand advance has been made 
 in the war against intemperance. I visited one of the 
 houses with ex-Mayor D., who, I rejoice to say, is Chair- 
 man of the Company, and in this great office does more 
 for the cause than a thousand loud-mouthed orators 
 who only denounce the evil about which we are all 
 agreed, but have no plan to suggest for overcoming it. 
 It is so easy to denounce and tear down ; but try to 
 build up once and see what slow, discouraging labor is 
 involved. 
 
 The prices in these coffee-houses are very low : one 
 large cup of good tea, coffee, or cocoa, at the counter, 
 id. (2 cents) ; one sandwich, id. (2 cents). If taken up- 
 stairs in a room at a table, one-half more. 
 
 There is a reading-room with newspapers free, baga- 
 telle-table, and comfortable sitting-rooms ; also a ladies' 
 room and a lavatory, and cigars, tobacco, and all non- 
 alcoholic drinks are provided. Men go there at night 
 to read and to play games. The company has been 
 operating for three years, and the business increases
 
 1 68 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 steadily. We saw similar houses in most of the towns 
 we passed, and wished them God-speed. 
 
 A chairman of a company like this has it in his power 
 to do more good for the masses, who are the people of 
 England, than if he occupied his time as member of 
 Parliament ; but the English exalt politics unduly and 
 waste the lives of their best men disputing over prob- 
 lems which the more advanced Republicans have settled 
 long ago and cleared out of their way. They will learn 
 better by and by. We must not be impatient. They 
 are a slow race and prone to makeshifts politically. 
 
 A delegation of the Charioteers passed a happy day 
 visiting one of the celebrated homes of England, Bilton 
 Grange, near Rugby, the residence of Mr. John Lan- 
 caster, whom Americans will remember as the owner 
 of the yacht "Deerhound," who rescued Commander 
 Semmes, when the " Kearsarge " swept the infamous 
 " Alabama " from the seas. Mr. Lancaster showed us the 
 pistols presented to him by the Confederate Officer as 
 token of gratitude. This seems like ancient history 
 already, so rapidly has the Rebellion and all thoughts 
 thereof faded away. Jefferson Davis goes to and fro 
 exciting no remark, arousing some pity. Had he been 
 invested with the crown of martyrdom, how different 
 would be the feeling of his people to-day ! It is with 
 Davis as with the deserter of whom Hon. Daniel J. Mor- 
 rell tells: He took the mother of the runaway to see 
 President Lincoln, in Washington, to plead for the life
 
 Lincoln and the Deserter. 169 
 
 of her darling boy, who had been court-martialed and 
 was to be shot in a few days. Lincoln first upbraided my 
 friend for subjecting him to such an ordeal, but the poor 
 woman was already in the room, sobbing as if her heart 
 would break, and there was no help for it. Lincoln 
 conducted her to a seat, asked a great many questions, 
 learned that the boy had returned to work at Johnstown, 
 and provided for his mother and sister from his earnings, 
 giving as an excuse for leaving the army, that it was 
 lying idle on the banks of the Potomac and he knew it 
 could not move until spring. 
 
 The President mused a few moments, apparently un- 
 decided what action to take. Even the woman held her 
 breath for the time and awaited in silence the word 
 which was to rejoice her or doom her to misery forever. 
 "Well, I don't believe it would do him any good to 
 shoot him, do you, madam?" asked Father Abraham of 
 the mother, in a tone of inquiry so natural that one 
 would have thought he was actually in doubt upon the 
 subject himself and wanted the opinion of the person 
 who knew the boy best. 
 
 The mother was speechless. During the inquiry the 
 President had been rolling a small strip of paper into a 
 ball. He handed this to Mr. Morrell, saying : " Read 
 that when you get out, Daniel, but mind you don't tell 
 Stanton." 
 
 Mr. Morrell beckoned the woman to the door, placed 
 her in the carriage, read the slip, and ordered the coach-
 
 170 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 man to drive at once to the office of the Provost Mar- 
 shal. Here is what he found in that tiny strip : " P.M. 
 Washington — Send Private Johnston, Company B, 9th 
 Penn. Infantry, to his regiment. A. L." 
 
 That is the kind of thing that took our trusting 
 hearts and gave this wood-chopper of Illinois such 
 power as all the hereditary monarchs of the world can 
 never hope to acquire. Just so with Jefferson Davis : — 
 it wouldn't do anybody any good to shoot him. Happy 
 America ! strong enough to laugh at all powers which 
 talk of assailing you. 
 
 In driving to and from Bilton Grange, we passed 
 famous Rugby and talked of our favorite Tom Brown. 
 What a sad pity that Mr. Hughes was carried away by 
 the fascinations of a scheme for transplanting gentle- 
 manly Englishmen to the Rugby colony in Tennessee ! 
 It was foredoomed to failure, and to much heart-burn- 
 ing and recrimination. Of all men in the world, your 
 well-educated young Englishman is least adapted for 
 such a life as Tennessee has to offer. Had the West 
 or North-west been selected, the result should have been 
 different so far as pecuniary considerations are con- 
 cerned, for even poor management there could not have 
 kept the land from rising in value. The stream of emi- 
 gration from the older States to the new might have 
 told these men where to go ; but it seems that when- 
 ever foreigners attempt to do anything in America 
 through an organization, their first thought is how to 

 
 Moral for Englishmen. 171 
 
 do it in a manner as far as possible from that of the 
 Americans. The consequence is, they generally lose 
 their money. Moral for our English cousins : " When 
 in America do as the Americans do." If they settle in 
 Iowa do you go and sit down beside them there. And 
 to my iron and steel friends in this little island, just 
 one word : If Americans are not overpoweringly anx- 
 ious to develop the wonderful resources, say of Ala- 
 bama, for instance, just you take Rip Van Winkle's plan 
 " go home and t'ink about it jest a leetle " before you 
 undertake the task. These Americans do not know 
 everything, of course, but it is just possible they may 
 know something about their own country. 
 
 " Nae man can tether time nor tide, 
 The hour approaches, Tarn maun ride.'* 
 
 Our six days at Wolverhampton had passed rapidly 
 away in one continual round of social pleasures, and 
 now we were off again to fresh fields and pastures new. 
 Trie horn sounds. We call the roll once more. Mr. B., 
 Senior, had left us at Windsor, but the Junior B. he sent 
 us fitly represented the family. If he couldn't tell as 
 many funny stories nor quote as much poetry as his 
 sire, the young Cambridge wrangler could sing college 
 songs and give our young ladies many glimpses of 
 young England. He was a great favorite was Theodore 
 (young Obadiah). 
 
 Miss B. and he left us at Banbury, much to our re-
 
 172 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 gret, but London engagements were imperative. Mr* 
 and Mrs. K. arrived. If ever a couple received a warmer 
 welcome I never saw nor heard of it. It seemed as if 
 we had been separated for years, and how often during 
 our journey had one or another of the party regretted 
 that Aggie and Aaleck were missing all this. 
 
 It was upon the ocean that Ben and Davie conceived 
 the idea that a run to Paris would be advisable. Leave 
 of absence for two week was accordingly granted to 
 four— Mr. and Mrs. McC, Miss J. and Mr. V. 
 
 We bade them good-bye at Wolverhampton, Thurs- 
 day, June 30th, and saw them fairly off, not without 
 tears upon both sides from the weaker sex. These 
 partings are miserable things always. Their places were 
 taken by Miss J. R. (a Dunfermline bairn), Miss A. B., 
 and Mr. D. Next morning we gathered the clans at 
 Mr. G.'s, calling at the houses of several other friends 
 for the contingent they had so kindly entertained; 
 thence to Merridale for the remainder and the final 
 start. 
 
 It was a sight to see the party on the lawn there as 
 we drove off, giving three hearty cheers for Wolver- 
 hampton. In special honor of the head of the clan 
 there, the master of Merridale, we had just sung " For 
 he is an Englishman." Yes, he is the Englishman all 
 over. Our route for many miles was still in the black 
 country, but near Lichfield we reached again the rural 
 beauties of England. How thankful to get away once
 
 Lichfield Cathedral. 173 
 
 more from the dirt and smoke and bustle of manufac- 
 tories ! 
 
 The new members had not gone far before they 
 exhibited in an aggravated form all the usual signs of 
 the mania which had so seriously affected all who have 
 ever mounted our coach. The older members derived 
 great pleasure from seeing how completely the recent 
 acquisitions were carried away. Their enthusiasm knew 
 no bounds, and we drove in to the Swan at Lichfield 
 brimful of happiness. We had left Wolverhampton 
 about noon, the stage for the day being a short one, 
 only twenty miles. 
 
 Lichfield, July i. 
 
 The cathedral deserves a visit, out of the way of 
 travel as it is. Its three spires and its chapter house 
 are the finest we have yet seen ; and then Chantrey's 
 sleeping children is worth travelling hundreds of miles 
 to see. Never before has marble been made to express 
 the childish sleep of innocence as this does. 
 
 It was strange that I should stumble upon a monu- 
 ment in the cathedral to Major Hodson, whose grave I 
 had seen in India. He lies with Havelock and Law- 
 rence in the pretty little English cemetery at Lucknow, 
 poor fellow, and here his friends and neighbors away in 
 quiet Lichfield have commemorated his valor. 
 
 How well do I remember my visit to that historic 
 burial place in far off India and the impression made 
 upon me as I stood beside the tombs of the heroes who
 
 174 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 fell in the days of the great mutiny ! The inscription 
 on Lawrence's is : " Here lies Henry Lawrence, who 
 tried to do his duty." What could you add that would 
 not weaken that ? 
 
 We talked, standing by Hodson's monument, of the 
 long struggle and the relief at Lucknow, and of what I 
 had written of it in my " Notes of a Trip round the 
 World." As it pleased the Charioteers, perhaps I may 
 be pardoned for quoting a part of it. 
 
 " Our first visit was to the ruins of the Residency, 
 where for six long months Sir Henry Lawrence and his 
 devoted band were shut up and surrounded by fifty 
 thousand armed rebels. The grounds, which I should 
 say are about thirty acres in extent, were fortunately 
 encompassed by an earthern rampart six feet in height. 
 You need not be told of the heroic resistance of the two 
 regiments of British soldiers and one of natives, nor of 
 the famous rescue. Hour after hour, day after day, 
 week after week, and month after month, the three 
 hundred women and children, shut in a cellar under 
 ground, watched and prayed for the sound of Have- 
 lock's bugles, but it came not. Hope, wearied out at 
 last, had almost given place to despair. Through the 
 day the attacks of the infuriated mob could be seen and 
 repelled, but who was to answer that as darkness fell the 
 wall was not to be pierced at some weak point of the 
 extended line ? One officer in command of a critical 
 point failing — not to do his duty, there was never a fear
 
 Jessie of Luc know. 175 
 
 of that — but failing to judge correctly of what the oc- 
 casion demanded, and the struggle was over. Death 
 Was the last of the fears of those poor women night 
 after night as the days rolled slowly away. One night 
 there was graver silence than usual in the room ; all 
 were despondent and lay resigned to their seemingly 
 impending fate. No rescue came, nor any tidings of 
 relief. In the darkness one piercing scream was heard 
 from the narrow window. A Highland nurse had clam- 
 bered up to gaze through the bars and strain her ears 
 once more. The cooling breeze of night blew in her 
 face and wafted such music as she could not stay to 
 hear. One spring to the ground, a clapping of hands 
 above her head, and such a shriek as appalled her sisters 
 who clustered around ; but all she could say between 
 the sobs — ' The slogan ! the slogan ! ' Few knew 
 what the slogan was. ' Didna ye hear? Didna ye 
 hear ? ' cried the almost demented girl, and then listen- 
 ing one moment that she might not be deceived, she 
 muttered, ' It's the Macgregors Gathering, the grandest 
 o' them a',' and fell senseless to the ground. 
 
 "Truly, my lassie, the ' grandest o' them a',' for never 
 came such strains before to mortal ears. And so Jessie 
 of Lucknow takes her place in history as one of the 
 finest themes for painter, dramatist, poet, or historian, 
 henceforth and forever. I have some hesitation whether 
 the next paragraph in my note-book should go down 
 here or be omitted. Probably it would be in better
 
 176 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 taste if quietly ignored, but then it would be so finely 
 natural if put in. Well, I shall be natural or nothing, 
 and recount that I could not help rejoicing that Jessie 
 was Scotch, and that Scotchmen first broke the rebel 
 lines and reached the fort, and that the bagpipes led the 
 way. That's all. I feel better now that this also is set 
 down." 
 
 In Lichfield cathedral are seven very fine stained- 
 glass windows which were found stowed away in a 
 farm-house in Belgium, and purchased by an English 
 gentleman for £200, and now they rank among the most 
 valuable windows in the world. What a pity that the 
 treasures wantonly destroyed during the Reformation 
 had not found similar shelter, to be brought from their 
 hiding-places once more to delight us ! 
 
 We heard service Saturday morning, and mourned 
 over the waste of exquisite music — twenty-six singers in 
 the choir and only ten persons to listen in the vast 
 cathedral, besides our party. It is much the same 
 throughout England. In no case during week days did 
 we ever see as many persons in the congregation as in 
 the choir. Surely the impressive cathedrals of England 
 are capable of being put to better uses than this. It 
 seems a sin to have such choirs and not conduct them 
 in some way to reach and elevate greater numbers. In 
 no building would an oratorio sound so well. Why 
 should not these choirs be made the nucleus for a cho- 
 rus in every district, and let us have music which would 

 
 Church Music. 177 
 
 draw the masses within the sacred walls ? But maybe 
 this would be sacrilegious. Theological minds may see 
 in the music suggested an unworthy intruder in do- 
 mains sacred to dogma ; but they should remember that 
 the Bible tells us that in heaven music is the principal 
 source of happiness — the sermon seems nowhere — and 
 it may go hard with such as fail to give it the first place 
 on earth. In this view of the case it was decided to-day 
 upon the coach that what some had hitherto thought a 
 scandal, viz., that the choirs of most of our fashionable 
 churches cost more than all the other expenses of the 
 church, and that organists and sopranos receive a much 
 larger salary considering the time given than the minis- 
 ters ; or, as one of the young ladies put it, " More is 
 paid for music than for religion " — all this, instead of 
 being reprehensible, as some have unthinkingly believed, 
 may really be, and probably is, quite in accordance with 
 the proper order of worship. Well, I am not going to 
 grudge Miss B. her three thousand dollars a year any 
 longer, said a vestryman ; so he was converted to the 
 theory that music stands upon strong ground. Some 
 day, however, my lord bishop and lazy crew, the cathe- 
 drals of England will not be yours alone to drone in, 
 but become mighty centres of grand music, from which 
 shall radiate elevating influences over entire districts; 
 and the best minds of the nation, remembering how 
 narrow and bigoted the church was when these struct* 
 
 ures were built, will change the poet's line and say : 
 12
 
 ij8 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 " To what great uses have they come at last ! " 
 
 The world moves and the church establishment must 
 
 move with it, or this is a splendid place to stop — 
 
 there is as great virtue in your " or " as in your " if," 
 sometimes. Here is the best description of service in 
 an English cathedral : 
 
 " And love the high embowel roof, 
 With antique pillars massy proof, 
 And storied windows richly dight, 
 Casting a dim religious light : 
 There let the pealing organ blow, 
 To the full voic'd choir below, 
 In service high and anthems clear, 
 As may with sweetness, through my ear, 
 Dissolve me into ecstasies, 
 And bring all heaven before mine eyes." 
 
 The music at Lichfield does indeed draw you into 
 regions beyond and intimates immortality, and we ex- 
 claim with friend Izaak Walton, " Lord, what music 
 hast thou provided for the saints in heaven, when thou 
 affordest bad men such music on earth ! " 
 
 I remember that when in China I read that Confu- 
 cius was noted for his intense passion for music. He 
 said one day to his disciples that music not only ele- 
 vates man while he is listening, but that to those 
 who love it music is able to create distinct images which 
 remain after the strains cease and keep the mind from 
 base thoughts. Think of the sage knowing this when
 
 The Coach. 179 
 
 he had probably only the sing-song Chinese fiddle to 
 console him ! I forget, he had the gongs, and a set of 
 fine gongs of different tones make most suggestive 
 music, as I have discovered. 
 
 The position of Lichfield Cathedral is peculiarly 
 fine. Three sides of the square surrounding it are occu- 
 pied by splendid ecclesiastical buildings connected with 
 the diocese, including the bishop's palace. A beautiful 
 sheet of water lies upon the lower side, so that nothing 
 incongruous meets the eye. 
 
 We obtained there a better idea of the magnitude 
 of the church establishment and its to us seemingly 
 criminal waste of riches than ever before. To think of 
 all this power for good wasting itself upon a beggarly 
 account of empty benches, the choir outnumbering the 
 congregation ! 
 
 We had ordered the coach to come and await us at 
 the cathedral, but had not expected Perry to drive up 
 to the very door. There the glittering equipage was, 
 however, surrounded by groups of pretty, rosy children 
 and many older people gazing respectfully. There is 
 something about a well-appointed coach and four which 
 is calculated to puff a man up with vanity. I remem- 
 ber I had been absorbed in the service, and afterward in 
 wandering about the cathedral had had my thoughts 
 carried back to India. I was again in the crowded 
 streets of Benares mounted upon the richly caparisoned 
 elephants of the Rajah, and anon strolling upon the
 
 i8o 
 
 Four-i?i-Hand i?i Britain. 
 
 Apollo Bunder in Bombay, one of a crowd the gorgeous 
 coloring of which equals any scene ever given in grand 
 opera. I reached the cathedral door in a kind of trance ; 
 the gay coach, the horses and their sparkling harness, 
 and Joe and Perry in their livery burst upon me, and 
 looking up and around I did feel that we were a 
 " swell " party, and had ever so much to be thankful 
 for. It is a source of never failing pleasure to stand 
 and see the Charioteers mount the coach — they are all 
 so happy, and I am " so glad they are glad." And so 
 we mounted and drove off, taking a last fond look of 
 grand old Lichfield. 
 
 Dovedale, July 2-3. 
 
 Our objective point was Dovedale, thirty miles dis- 
 tant. When three miles out we stopped at Elmhurst 
 Hall for Miss F., who had preceded us to pay a visit to 
 Mr. and Mrs. F — x, who very kindly invited the party to 
 dismount and lunch with them ; but the thirty miles to 
 be done would not permit us the pleasure. The next 
 time we pass, however, good master and mistress of 
 Elmhurst Hall, you shall certainly have the Charioteers 
 within your hospitable walls, if you desire it, for such an 
 inviting place we have rarely seen. 
 
 We were to lunch in Sudbury Park, the residence of 
 Lord Vernon. This was the first grassy luncheon of 
 the five new-comers, and we were all delighted to see 
 their enjoyment of this most Arcadian feature of our
 
 Sudbury Park. 181 
 
 coaching life. It proved to be one of our pleasantest 
 luncheons, for there is no finer spot in England than 
 Sudbury Park. Of course it is not the glen nor the 
 wimpling burn of the Highlands, but for quiet England 
 it is superb. 
 
 The site chosen was near a pretty brook. Before us 
 was the old-fashioned brick Queen Anne mansion, and 
 behind us in the park was a cricket ground, where a 
 match between two neighboring clubs was being wor- 
 thily contested. The scene was indeed idyllic. There was 
 never more fun and laughter at any of our luncheons. 
 Aaleck had to be repressed at last, for several of the 
 members united in a complaint against him. Their 
 sides ached, but that they did not mind so much ; their 
 anxiety was about their cheeks, which were seriously 
 threatened with an explosion if they attempted to eat. 
 To avoid such results it was voted that no one should 
 make a joke nor even a remark. Silence was enjoined ; 
 but what did that amount to ! The signs and grimaces 
 were worse than speech. Force was no remedy. It 
 took time to get the party toned down, but eventually 
 the lunch was finished. 
 
 We strolled over and watched the cricketers. It all 
 depends upon how you look at a thing. So many able- 
 bodied perspiring men knocking about a little ball on a 
 warm summer's day, that is one way; so many men 
 relieved from anxious care and laying the foundation 
 for long years of robust health by invigorating exercise
 
 1 82 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 in the open air, that is the other view of the question. 
 The ancients did not count against our little span of 
 life the days spent in the chase ; neither need we charge 
 those spent in cricket ; and as for our sport, coaching, 
 for every day so spent we decided that it and another 
 might safely be credited. He was a very wise prime 
 minister who said he had often found important duties 
 for which he had not time ; one duty, however, he had 
 always made time for, his daily afternoon ride on horse- 
 back. Your always busy man accomplishes little ; the 
 great doer is he who has plenty of leisure. The man at 
 the helm turns the wheel now and then, and so easily 
 too, touching an electric bell ; it's the stoker down be- 
 low who is pitching into it with his coat off. And look 
 at Captain McMicken promenading the deck in his 
 uniform and a face like a full moon ; quite at his ease 
 and ready for a story. And there is Johnnie Watson, 
 chief engineer, who rules over the throbbing heart of 
 the ship; he is standing there prepared for a crack. 
 Moral : Don't worry yourself over work, hold yourself 
 in reserve, and sure as fate, "it will all come right in 
 the wash." 
 
 Leaving the contestants, we walked down to the lake 
 in front of the mansion, and with our usual good for- 
 tune we were just in time to see the twenty acres of 
 ornamental water dragged for pike, which play such 
 havoc with other fish. The water had been drained 
 into a small pond, which seemed alive with bewildered
 
 Adam and Eve. 183 
 
 fish. We sat and watched with quiet interest the men 
 drawing the net. Hundreds were caught at every haul, 
 from which the pike were taken. A tremendous eel 
 gave the men a lively chase ; three or four times it es- 
 caped, wriggled through their legs and hands one after 
 the other, and made for the water. Had the game- 
 keeper not succeeded in pinning it to the ground with 
 a pitchfork, the eel would have beaten the whole 
 party. 
 
 Lord Vernon's park is rich in attractions. An old 
 narrow picturesque arched bridge, which spans the pret- 
 ty lake, has a statue of Adam at one end and Eve at 
 the other. Over the former the ivy clusters so thickly 
 as to make our great prototype a mass of living green ; 
 poor Eve has been less favored, for she is in a pitiable 
 plight for a woman, with "nothing to wear." 
 
 But Eve was not used to kind treatment. Adam was 
 by no means a modern model husband, and never gave 
 Eve anything in excess except blame. Here she is still, 
 the Flora McFlimsy of my friend William Allen Butler 
 (minus the flora as I have said) ; but let her be patient, 
 her dress is sure to come, for kind nature in England 
 abhors nakedness. She is ever at work clothing every- 
 thing with her mantle of green. 
 
 " Ever and ever bringing secrets forth, 
 It sitteth in the green of forest glades 
 Nursing strange seedlings at the cedar's root, 
 Devising leaves, blooms, blades.
 
 184 Four-in-Hand in Britain, 
 
 This is its touch upon the blossomed rose, 
 The fashion of its hand-shaped lotus leaves ; 
 In dark soil and the silence of the seeds 
 The robe of Spring it weaves." 
 
 We had rare enjoyment at the lake, and envied Lord 
 Vernon his princely heritage. The old forester who 
 once showed me over a noble estate in Scotland was 
 quite right. I was enchanted with one of the views, 
 and repeated. 
 
 " Where is the coward who would not dare 
 To fight for such a land ! " 
 
 "Aye," said the old man, "aye, it's a grand country, 
 for the lairds." It will be a grander country some day 
 when it is less " for the lairds " and more for the toiling 
 masses; but may the destroying angel of progress look 
 kindly upon such scenes of beauty as Sudbury Park. 
 The extensive estate may be disentailed and cultivated 
 by a thousand small owners in smiling homes, with edu- 
 cated children within them, and the land bring forth 
 greater harvests touched by the magic wand of the 
 sense of ownership — for it makes an infinite difference 
 to call a thing your own — and yet the mansion and park 
 remain intact and give to its possessor rarer pleasures 
 than at present. I think one of the greatest drawbacks 
 to life in Britain in grand style must be the contrast 
 existing between the squire and the people about him. 
 It is bad enough even in Chester Valley, where the 
 average condition and the education of the inhabitants
 
 Horseback Riding. 185 
 
 are probably equal to any locality in the world, but in 
 England it is far too marked for comfort, I should 
 think. 
 
 While we were still lingering on the banks of the lake 
 Perry's horn sounded from the main road to call us 
 from the enchanting scene, and we were off for Dove- 
 dale through pretty Ashbourne. 
 
 As we bowled along the conversation turned upon 
 horseback riding, and some one quoted the famous 
 maxim, " the outside of a horse for the inside of a 
 man." "But what about a woman?" asked F. "Oh," 
 answered Puss, " the outside of a horse for the inside 
 of a woman and the outside as well, for in no other 
 position can a woman ever possibly look so captivating 
 as on a horse. Girls who ride in the park have double 
 chances." A voice from the front — " You are right." 
 Our Pard there admits that he had no idea of falling in 
 love with Annie until he saw her on horseback ; and 
 when he had ridden with her a few times he was con- 
 quered. A woman looks her loveliest on horseback. 
 
 "That is not Mrs. Parr's opinion," rejoined a young 
 lady on the front seat. " I think it is in her splendid ' Dor- 
 othy Fox ' she says that a woman never shows so clearly 
 the angel of beauty which dwells in a good woman's 
 heart as when she murmurs her yes to her lover." 
 
 " Oh, that's not fair," came from the back row. 
 "That's too short, only a moment; and besides only one 
 man sees it. That doesn't count. We mean that a
 
 1 86 
 
 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 woman shows off better on horseback than anywhere 
 else." 
 
 "Oh!" said the cynic, "is that it, Miss? Nothing 
 counts without the showing off, eh I " And so we rattled 
 on interrupted at intervals by exclamations called forth 
 by England's unique beauty. 
 
 Can any one picture a resting-place so full of peace 
 and beauty as the old Izaak Walton Inn ? We arrived 
 there in the twilight, and some of us walked down the 
 long hill and got our first sight of the Dove from the 
 bridge at the foot across the stream. 
 
 I got the memorable verses near enough from mem- 
 ory to repeat them on the bridge. Let me put them 
 down here, for in truth, simple as they are, who is going 
 to predict the coming of the day when they will cease 
 to be prized as one of the gems of literature? 
 
 " She dwelt among the untrodden ways, 
 Beside the springs of Dove, 
 A maid whom there were none to praise, 
 And very few to love. 
 
 " A violet by a mossy stone, 
 Half hidden from the eye ; 
 Fair as a star when only one 
 Is shining in the sky. 
 
 " She lived unknown, and few could know 
 When Lucy ceased to be ; 
 But she is in her grave, and oh. 
 The difference to me ! "
 
 Ham Hall. 187 
 
 But think of dear old Izaak and of his fishing ex- 
 cursions to this very spot. He actually stayed at our 
 inn ! He too is secure of his position as the author of 
 a classic for as long a time as we care to look forward 
 to. Is it not strange that no one has ever imitated this 
 man's unique style ? " God leads us not to heaven 
 by many nor by hard questions," says the fisherman, 
 and he knew a thing or two. There is a flavor about 
 him peculiarly his own, but especially rich when read in 
 this old inn, sacred to his memory. I enjoyed him with 
 a fresh relish during the few hours of Sunday which I 
 could devote to him, for there is a good sermon in many 
 a sentence of the " Complete Angler." Dear old boy, 
 your place in my library and in my heart too is secure. 
 
 Ham Hall, near the inn, is the great place, and there 
 is a pretty little church within a stone's throw of it. 
 We walked over on Sunday morning and saw the squire 
 come into church with his family and take his seat among 
 his people, for I take it most of the congregation were 
 connected with the hall. The parson, no doubt, was the 
 appointee of the squire, and we tried to estimate the im- 
 portance of these two men in the district, their duties and 
 influence — both great — for to a large extent the moral 
 as well as the material well-being of a community in rural 
 England depends upon the character of the hall and par- 
 sonage. The squire was Mr. Hanbury, M.P., who cour- 
 teously invited our party to visit the hall after service, 
 and to stroll as we pleased through his grounds. He had
 
 1 88 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 been in America, and knew our erratic genius and brother 
 iron-master Abram S. Hewitt. In the evening we re- 
 ceived from him some fine photographs of the hall (a 
 truly noble one), which we prize highly. The accom- 
 panying note was even more gratifying, for it said that 
 he had been so warmly received in America that it was 
 always a pleasure when opportunity offered to show 
 Americans such attentions as might be in his power. It 
 is ever thus, cold indifference between the two English- 
 speaking branches is found only among the stay-at- 
 homes. The man who knows from personal experience 
 the leading characteristics of the people upon both sides 
 of the ferry is invariably a warm and sincere friend. 
 The two peoples have only to become acquainted to be- 
 come enthusiastic over each other's rare qualities. 
 
 This is a sheep-grazing district, quite hilly, and the 
 rainfall is much beyond the average ; but the weather 
 question troubles us little ; the Charioteers carry sun- 
 shine within and without. Our afternoon walk was 
 along the Dove, which we followed up the glen between 
 the hills for several miles, finding new beauties at every 
 turn. Mr. H. has the stream on his estate reserved for 
 five miles for his own fishing, but our landlord said he 
 was very generous and always gave a gentleman a day's 
 sport when properly applied for. We were offered free 
 range by Mr. H., a privilege which Davie and I hold in 
 reserve for a future day, that we may most successfully 
 conjure the shade of our congenial brother of the angle; 
 
 I
 
 Izaak Walton. 1 89 
 
 " for you are to note," saith he, " that we anglers all love 
 one another." We at least all love Izaak Walton, " an 
 excellent angler and now with God." Reading the in- 
 genious defence of fishing by our author, " an honest 
 man and a most excellent fly-fisher," is not waste time 
 in these days of violent anti-vivisectionists, who have 
 seen poor hares chased down for sport all their lives, 
 and their Prince shoot pigeons from a trap without a 
 protest, but who effect to feel pity for a cat sacrificed 
 upon the holy altar of science. Miserable hypocrites, 
 who swallow so large a camel and strain at so very 
 small a gnat ! It shows what demoralization is brought 
 about in good people by rank and fashion ; one rule for 
 the Prince who disgraces himself by cruel sports, another 
 for the medical student who exalts himself working for 
 the good of his race. 
 
 But to quaint Izaak's defence ; and first as to the fish 
 themselves. 
 
 " Nay, the increase of these creatures that are bred 
 and fed in water is not only more and more miraculous, 
 but more advantageous to man, not only for the length- 
 ening of his life, but for the preventing of sickness ; for 
 'tis observed by the most learned physicians that the 
 casting off of Lent and other fish days hath doubtless 
 been the chief cause of those many putrid, shaking, in- 
 termitting agues into which this nation of ours is now 
 more subject than those wiser countries which feed on 
 herbs, salads, and plenty of fish. And it is fit to re-
 
 I9 o Four.in.Hand in Britain. 
 
 member that Moses (Levit. 11:9; Deut. 14 ; 9) ap- 
 pointed fish to be the chief diet for the best common- 
 wealth that ever yet was ; and it is observable not only 
 that there are fish, as namely the whale, three times as 
 big as the mighty elephant that is so fierce in battle, 
 but that the mightiest feasts have been of fish." 
 
 Is not that capital? It calls to mind Josh Billings' 
 answer to his correspondent who wrote saying that he 
 had heard many times that a fish diet was most favor- 
 able for increase of brain power, but he had never been 
 able to find out the best kind of fish for the purpose. 
 Could he inform him? "In your case," replied Josh, 
 " try a whale or two." 
 
 Here is Izaak's argument for the lawfulness of fish- 
 ing: 
 
 " And for the lawfulness of fishing it may very well 
 be maintained by our Saviour's bidding St. Peter cast 
 his hook into the water and catch a fish for money to 
 pay tribute to Caesar. And it is observable that it was 
 our Saviour's will that four fishermen should have a 
 priority of nomination in the catalogue of his twelve 
 disciples (Matt. 10: 2, 4, 13), as namely: St. Peter, St. 
 Andrew, St. James, and St. John, and then the rest in 
 their order. And it is yet more observable that when 
 our blessed Saviour went up into the mount when he 
 left the rest of his disciples and chose only three to 
 bear him company at his transfiguration, that those 
 three were all fishermen ; and it is to be believed that
 
 Fishing. 191 
 
 all the other apostles after they betook themselves to 
 follow Christ, betook themselves to be fishermen too : 
 for it is certain that the greater number of them were 
 found together fishing by Jesus after his resurrection, 
 as it is recorded in the 21st chapter of St. John's Gos- 
 pel, v. 3, 4. This was the employment of these happy 
 fishermen, concerning which choice some have made 
 these observations : first that he never reproved these 
 for their employment or calling as he did the scribes 
 and the money-changers ; and secondly, he found that 
 the hearts of such men were fitted for contemplation 
 and quietness, men of mild, and sweet, and peaceable 
 spirits, as indeed most anglers are ; these men our 
 blessed Saviour, who is observed to love to plant grace 
 in good natures, though indeed nothing be too hard for 
 him, yet these men he chose to call from their irreprov- 
 able employment of fishing and gave them grace to be 
 his disciples and to follow him and do wonders. I say 
 four of twelve." 
 
 There I think we may safely rest the defence of our 
 favorite sport, especially upon secondly ; for it is all 
 very well to say animals must be slain that we may live, 
 and yet it does not give one a high idea of the fineness 
 of the man who chooses the occupation of a butcher, 
 and is happiest when he is killing something. Blood ! 
 Iago, blood ! For my part, while recognizing the neces- 
 sity that the sheep should bleat for the lamb slain that I 
 may feast, I don't profess to see that the arrangement
 
 192 
 
 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 is anything to rave over as an illustration of the wisdom 
 or the goodness of God. Let us eat, asking no ques- 
 tions, but trusting that some day we shall see clearly 
 that all is well. Meanwhile I give up coursing, fox 
 hunting, and pigeon shooting as unworthy sports, and 
 never again will I kill a deer in sport. I once saw the 
 mild, reproachful eyes of one turned upon me as it lay, 
 wounded, as much as to say : " I am so sorry it was 
 you who did this." So was I, poor innocent thing. It 
 is years since I saw that look, but it haunts me yet at 
 intervals. It is one of the many things I have done for 
 which I am ever sorry. 
 
 Too much fishing ! It is no use to try to give you 
 the good things of Izaak Walton, for it is with him as 
 with Shakespeare. Two volumes of his " beauties " 
 handed to gentle Elia. " This is all very well, my 
 friend, but where are the other five volumes ? " We 
 must get out of Dovedale — that is clear. A lions done / 
 
 Our stage to-day was to Chatsworth, twenty-four 
 miles, where our Fourth of July dinner was to be cele- 
 brated. As we passed Ham Hall we stopped, sounded 
 our horn, and gave three cheers for the squire who had 
 been so kind to his " American cousins." 
 
 Our luncheon was beside the pretty brook at Youl- 
 greaves, on the estate of the Duke of Rutland, and a 
 beautiful trout-stream it is. We could see the speckled 
 beauties darting about, and were quite prepared to be- 
 lieve the wonderful stories told us of the basketfuls 
 

 
 The Burnie, 193 
 
 taken there sometimes. There is something infectious 
 in a running stream. It is the prettiest thing in nature. 
 Nothing adds so much to our midday enjoyment as one 
 of these babbling brooks, 
 
 " Making music o er the enamelled stones, 
 And giving a gentle kiss to every sedge 
 It overtaketh in its pilgrimage." 
 
 If there be " sermons in stones," I think it must be 
 when the pure water sings as it rushes over them. 
 
 The Charioteers demanded that I should repeat 
 " The Burnie, " a gem by a true poet, Ballantyne. 
 Would you, my gentle reader, like also to know it ? I 
 think you would, for such as have followed me so far 
 must have something akin to me and surely will some- 
 times like what I like, and I like this much : 
 
 " It drappit frae a gray rock upon a mossy stane, 
 An doon amang the green grass it wandered lang alane. 
 It passed the broomie knowe beyond the hunter's hill ; 
 It pleased the miller's bairns an it ca'd their faether's mill. 
 
 " But soon anither bed it had, where the rocks met aboon, 
 And for a time the burnie saw neither sun nor moon. 
 But the licht o' heaven cam' again, its banks grew green and fair, 
 And many a bonnie flower in its season blossomed there ; 
 
 " And ither burnies joined till its rippling song was o'er, 
 For the burn became a river ere it reached the ocean's shore. 
 And the wild waves rose to greet it wi' their ain eerie croon, 
 Working their appointed wark and never, never done. 
 13
 
 194 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 " Nae sad repinings at the hardness o' their lot, 
 Nae heart-burnings at what anither got ; 
 The good or ill, the licht or shade, they took as it might be, 
 Sae onward ran the burnie frae the gray rock to the sea." 
 
 There's a moral for us ! There is always peace at the 
 end if we do our appointed work and leave the result 
 with the Unknown. Let us, then, follow Mrs. Brown- 
 ing) 
 
 «' And like a cheerful traveller, take the road, 
 
 Singing beside the hedge. What if the bread 
 Be bitter in thine inn, and thou unshod 
 To meet the flints ? — At least it may be said, 
 ' Because the way is short, I thank thee, God ! ' " 
 
 And so at the sea the burnie's race was run and it 
 found peace. Immensity gives peace always. It is so 
 vain to strive in the presence of the ocean, for it tells of 
 forces irresistible. It obeys its own laws, caring for 
 nought : 
 
 " Libel the ocean on its tawny sands, write verses 
 In its praise ; the unmoved sea erases both alike. 
 Alas for man 1 unless his fellows can behold his deeds, 
 He cares not to be great." 
 
 Not so, O poet, when man stands on the shore and 
 thinks, for then he feels his nothingness, and the ap- 
 plause of his fellows is valued as so much noise merely, 
 except as it serves as proof that he has stirred them 
 for the right. This state lasts unless he lifts his eyes 
 to the skies above the waste, and renews his vows to 
 the Goddess of Duty. He learns, not in the depths
 
 Daft Callants. 195 
 
 nor on the level of ocean's surface, but from higher and 
 beyond — that life is worth living, then he takes up his 
 task and goes on, saying 
 
 " And whether crowned or crownless when I fall 
 It matters not, so as God's work is done. 
 I've learned to prize the quiet lightning deed — 
 Not the applauding thunder at its heels 
 "Which men call fame.'' 
 
 The Queen Dowager and Aggie were off to paidle in 
 the burn after luncheon, and as a fitting close they kilted 
 their petticoats and danced a highland reel on the green- 
 sward, in sight of the company, but at some distance 
 from us. They were just wee lassies again, and to be a 
 wee lassie at seventy-one is a triumph indeed ; but, as 
 the Queen Dowager says, that is nothing. She intends 
 to be as daft for many years to come, for my grand- 
 father was far older when he alarmed the auld wives of 
 the village on Halloween night, sticking his false face 
 through the windows. " Oh ! " said one, recovering 
 from her fright, " it is just that daft callant, Andrew 
 Carnegie ! " I remember one day, in Dunfermline, an 
 old man in the nineties — a picture of withered eld, a few 
 straight, glistening white hairs on each side of his head, 
 and his nose and chin threatening each other — tottered 
 across the room to where I was sitting, and laying his 
 long, skinny hand upon my head, murmured : 
 
 " An' ye're a gran'son o' Andrew Carnegie's ! Aye, 
 maan, I've seen the day when your grandfaether an' me
 
 ig6 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 could have hallooed ony reasonable maan oot o' his 
 judgment." 
 
 I hope to be a daft callant at seventy-one — as daft as 
 we all were that day. Indeed, we were all daft enough 
 while coaching, but the Queen Dowager really ought to 
 have been restrained a little. She went beyond all 
 bounds, but life is an undoubted success if you can 
 laugh till the end of it. 
 
 Let me try to give an idea how this blessed England 
 is crowded. Here is a signboard we stopped at to-day, 
 to make sure we were taking the right way ; for, even 
 with the Ordnance map upon one's knee, strict atten- 
 tion is required or you will be liable to take the wrong 
 turn. 
 
 A voice from the General Manager : " Perry, stop at 
 the post and let us be sure." 
 
 " Right, sir." 
 
 The post points four ways, east, west, north, and 
 south. 
 
 First arm reads as follows: Tissington, 3; Matlock 
 Bath, 10; Chesterfield, 21. 
 
 Second arm: Ashbourne, 3 ; Derby, 16; Kissington, 
 19. 
 
 Third arm : Dovedale, Okedon, Ham. 
 
 Fourth arm: New Haven, 6; Buxton, 17; Bakewell, 
 13 ; Chatsworth, 16. 
 
 All this the guide-post said at one turn, and fortu- 
 nate it was that Chatsworth, our destination, happened
 
 Tissington Hall. 197 
 
 to be upon the fourth arm, for had the worthy road- 
 surveyors not deemed it necessary to extend their in- 
 formation beyond Bakewell, you see we might as well 
 have consulted the Book of Days. 
 
 The entrance to Tissington estate was near the post, 
 and we were very kindly permitted to drive through, 
 which it was said would save several miles and give us 
 a view of another English hall. We managed, how- 
 ever, to take a wrong turn somewhere, and added some 
 eight miles to our journey ; so much the better — the 
 longer the route the happier we were. 
 
 Every English hall seems to have some special feat- 
 ures in which it surpasses all others. This is as it 
 should be, for it permits every fortunate owner to love 
 his home for acknowledged merits of its own. If one 
 has the nobler terrace, another boasts a finer lawn ; 
 and if one has woods and a rookery, has not the other 
 the winding Nith through its borders? One cannot 
 have the best of everything, even upon an English es- 
 tate ; neither can one life have the best possible of every- 
 thing, 
 
 " For everj r blade o' grass keps its ain drap o' dew." 
 
 Let us, then, be thankful for our special mercies, 
 and may all our ducks be swans, as friend Edward says 
 mine are. 
 
 Have you never had your friend praise his wife to you 
 in moments of confidence, when you have been fishing
 
 198 Four-in-Hand in Britain, 
 
 for a week together? You wonder for a few moments, 
 as you recall the Betsey or Susan he extols ; for, if the 
 truth is to be spoken, you have, as it were, shed tears 
 for him when you thought of his yoke. Well, that is 
 the true way : let him make her a swan, even if she is 
 not much of a duck. 
 
 We stopped at Rowsley for Miss F., who was to come 
 there by rail from Elmhurst Hall. She brought the Lon- 
 don Times, which gave us the first news of the terrible 
 catastrophe in Washington. We would not believe 
 that the shot was to prove fatal. It did not seem pos- 
 sible that President Garfield's career was to end in such 
 a way ; but, do what we could, the great fear would not 
 down, and we reached Chatsworth much depressed. 
 Our Fourth of July was a sad one, and the intended 
 celebration was given up. Fortunately, the news be- 
 came more encouraging day after day, so much so that 
 the coaching party ventured to telegraph its congratu- 
 lations through Secretary Blaine, and it was not until 
 we reached New York that we knew that a relapse had 
 occurred. The cloud which came over us, therefore, 
 had its silver lining in the promise of recovery and a 
 return to greater usefulness than ever. 
 
 We stopped to visit Haddon Hall upon our way to 
 Chatsworth, but here we come upon tourists' ground. 
 Every one does the sights of the neighborhood, and 
 readers are therefore respectfully referred to the guide- 
 books. We had our first dusty ride to-day, for we are
 
 Edensor. 1 99 
 
 upon limestone roads, but the discomfort was only tri- 
 fling ; the weather, however, was really warm, and our 
 umbrellas were brought into use as sunshades. 
 
 Haddon Hall is a fine specimen of the old hall, and 
 Chatsworth of the new, except that the latter partakes 
 far too much of the show feature. It is no doubt amaz- 
 ing to the crowds of Manchester and Birmingham 
 workers who flock here for a holiday and who have 
 seen nothing finer, but to us who have seen the older 
 gems of England, Chatsworth seems much too modern 
 for our fastidious tastes. I speak only of the interior, 
 of course, for the house itself and its surroundings are 
 grand ; so is the statuary in the noble hall set apart for 
 it — really the best feature in the house. 
 
 Edensor, July 4. 
 Edensor is the model village which the Duke of 
 Devonshire has built adjoining the park — a very ap- 
 propriate and pretty name, for it is perhaps the finest 
 made-to-order village in England. Every cottage is 
 surrounded by pretty grounds and is built with an eye 
 to picturesqueness. It is entered by a handsome lodge 
 from the park, and the road at its upper end is also 
 closed by gates. The church, erected in 1870 from de- 
 signs of Gilbert Scott, occupies the site of an older one. 
 Opening from the south side of the chancel is a mortu- 
 ary chapel containing monuments of the Cavendish 
 family. In the churchyard is the monument of Sir
 
 200 Four -in- Hand in Britain. 
 
 Joseph Paxton, builder of the Crystal Palace, who was 
 formerly head gardener at Chatsworth. 
 
 One or two epitaphs in the churchyard are worth 
 noting. The following is dated 1787: 
 
 '* I was like grass, cut down in haste, 
 For fear too long should grow ; 
 I hope made fit in heaven to sit, 
 So why should I not go ! " 
 
 To be sure, why not ? But is there not a little am- 
 biguity in the " too long should grow ? " 
 
 The next one, dated 1818, seems to commemorate the 
 decease of a plough-boy who was rash enough to leave 
 his proper vocation for another — a sad illustration of 
 ne sutor ultra crepidam. 
 
 " When he that day with th' waggon went, 
 He little thought his glass was spent ; 
 But had he kept his Plough in Hand, 
 He might have longer till'd the Land." 
 
 One could not expect that the moral inculcated here 
 would find favor with our Americans. How could the 
 Mighty Republic ever have been brought to its present 
 height and embraced the majority of all English-speak- 
 ing people in the world, if her sons had not been ambi- 
 tious and changed from one occupation to another? 
 " Stick to your last " is only fit for monarchical coun- 
 tries, where people believe in classes. This young man 
 was of the right sort and should have a verse of praise
 
 A Modern Phaethon. 201 
 
 on his tombstone instead of this one which reflects 
 upon him. One of the party declared that the man 
 must have been the best workman on the place, and 
 that in America he would soon have owned the acres 
 he ploughed instead of ploughing here for some landlord 
 who spent the resources of the land in London or 
 on the continent. The poetess of the party was com- 
 missioned to provide a substitute for the obnoxious 
 verse which should applaud the act of this modern 
 Phaethon who would try to drive the wagon, after he 
 had learned all he could about ploughing. We were 
 driving homeward, and as the discussion ended in the 
 manner aforesaid, a sweet voice broke forth : 
 
 " I winna hae the laddie that drives the cart and ploo, 
 Although he may be tender, although he may be true ; 
 But I'll hae the laddie that has my heart betrayed, 
 The bonnie shepherd laddie that wears the crook and plaid." 
 
 The Charioteers gave it the swelling chorus : 
 
 " For he's aye true to his lassie, 
 Aye true to his lassie, 
 Aye true to me." 
 
 Who knows but the refusal of some rural beauty like 
 her of the song to have the laddie that " ca'd the ploo " 
 may have stirred our unfortunate youth to a change of 
 occupation? The "sex" is at the bottom of most of 
 man's misfortunes (and blessings too, let it be noted) 

 
 202 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 and why not of this lamentable end of the would-be 
 wagoner ! 
 
 The day was so warm, and our next stage to Buxton 
 being not very long (twenty-six miles), we decided to 
 spend the day at Edensor and take an evening drive. 
 We met here, enjoying their honeymoon, a bride and 
 groom who were well known to our Wolverhampton 
 delegation, and how do you suppose they were travel- 
 ling? Not in the ordinary mode, I assure you. I 
 mention this incident that some of my charming young 
 lady friends, who give me so much pleasure riding with 
 me, may make a note of it. They were doing beautiful 
 Derbyshire on horseback ! It was delightful to see 
 them start off in this way. I became interested in the 
 bride, who must be no ordinary woman to think of this 
 plan ; she told me it was proving a wonderful success ; 
 and the happy young fellow intimated to me, in a kind 
 of confidential way, that her novel idea was the finest 
 one he had ever been a party to. I asked him if he 
 could honestly recommend it, and he boldly said he 
 could. We must think over this. 
 
 The evening ride was one of our pleasantest experi- 
 ences. How entrancing England is after a warm day, 
 when everything seems to rejoice in the hours of peace, 
 succeeding the sunshine which forces growth ! 
 
 " When the heart-sick earth 
 
 , Turns her broad back upon the gaudy sun, 

 
 Buxton. 203 
 
 And stoops her weary forehead to the night 
 To struggle with her sorrow all alone, 
 The moon, that patient sufferer, pale with pain, 
 Presses her cold lips on her sister's brow 
 Till she is calm." 
 
 It is thus the earth appeared to me as we drove 
 along ; it was resting after its labors of the sunny day. 
 The night was spent at Buxton, that famous spa, which 
 has been the resort of health-seekers for more than a 
 thousand years, for it was well known to the Romans 
 and probably to their predecessors. We saw many in- 
 valids there drinking the waters, which are chiefly chaly- 
 beate ; but I take it, as is usual with such places, the 
 change of air and scene, of thought and effort, and, with 
 most, change of diet and freedom from excess, count 
 for ninety-nine points, and the waters, may be, for one. 
 But it is of no consequence what does it, so it is done, 
 therefore Buxton continues to flourish. 
 
 How wise a physician was he who cured the Great 
 Mogul when all other remedies had failed ! The mirac- 
 ulous Tree of Life was upon a mountain five miles from 
 the palace, and had to be visited daily, in the early 
 morning, by the sufferer, who was required to repeat an 
 incantation under its boughs. The words literally trans- 
 lated were no doubt something like this : " Pray away, 
 you old fool ! but it's the walk that does it." You need 
 not laugh. This put into such Latin as the schools de- 
 light in might be made to sound frightful to the Mogul
 
 204 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 " and scare him good," as the negro exhorters deem to 
 be essential for spiritual recovery. 
 
 Our hotel was a magnificent " limited company " 
 affair. The start next morning was a sight, in the first 
 real downpour in dead earnest we had experienced. 
 The sky was dark — not one tiny ray of light to give us 
 the slightest hope of change ; the barometer low and 
 still falling. Just such a morning as might have begun 
 the flood. Clearly we were in for it ; nevertheless, at 
 the appointed hour the Gay Charioteers, arrayed in 
 their waterproofs, with the good hats and bonnets all 
 inside the coach, passed through the crowds of guests 
 who lined the hall, wondering at these mad Americans, 
 and took their accustomed seats with an alacrity that 
 showed they considered the weather " perfectly lovely." 
 
 There are two miles of steep ascent as we leave the 
 town, and a few of us decided to walk, two of the ladies 
 among the number. Those who started upon the 
 coach were all right ; the pedestrians, however, found 
 themselves far from dry when the top was reached — 
 feet and knees were wet. By noon the rain had ceased, 
 and we stopped at a little inn, where fires were made, 
 our " reserve " clothing brought into use, and our wet 
 clothes dried, and we were as happy as larks when we 
 sat down to luncheon. Is not that a wise test which 
 Thackeray puts into the mouth of one of his waiters : 
 " Oh, I knew he was a gentleman, he was so easily 
 pleased ! " Well, our host and hostess at that little inn,
 
 Manchester. 205 
 
 who were taken so by surprise when a four-in-hand 
 stopped at the door, said something like this about the 
 American ladies and gentlemen as they left. Why not ? 
 Nothing comes amiss to the Gay Charioteers, and so on 
 we go to Manchester, getting once more into the grim, 
 smoky regions of manufacturing enterprise. 
 
 Manchester, July 6. 
 
 Mine host of The Queen's takes the prize for the one 
 best " swell " dinner enjoyed by the party ; but then the 
 rain and the moderate luncheon at the little inn, so dif- 
 ferent from the picnics on flowery banks, may have 
 given it a relish. The Queen's was evidently determined 
 that its American guests should leave with a favorable 
 impression, and so they did. 
 
 There was time to visit the Town Hall and walk the 
 principal streets, but all felt an invincible repugnance 
 to large towns. It was not these we had come to see. 
 Let us get away as soon as possible, and out once more 
 to the green fields ; we have cotton-mills and warehouses 
 and dirty, smoky manufactories enough and to spare at 
 home. The morning was cloudy, but the rain held off, 
 and we left the hotel amid a great crowd. The police 
 had at last to step in front of the coach and clear the 
 way. The newspapers had announced our arrival and 
 intended departure, and this brought the crowd upon 
 us. Getting into and out of large cities is the most dif- 
 ficult part of our driving, for the Ordnance map is useless
 
 206 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 there — frequent stoppages and inquiries must be made ; 
 but so far we have been fortunate, and our horn keeps 
 opposing vehicles out of our way in narrow streets and 
 in turning corners. We were bound for Anderton 
 
 Hall, to spend the night with our friend Mr. B . 
 
 Luncheon was taken in a queer, old-fashioned inn, 
 where we ate from bare deal tables, and drank home- 
 brewed ale while we sang : 
 
 " Let gentlemen fine sit down to their wine, 
 
 But we will stick to our beer, we will, 
 
 For we will stick to our beer." 
 
 The number and variety of temperance drinks ad- 
 vertised in England is incredible. Non-alcoholic bev- 
 erages meet us in flaming advertisements at every step 
 — from nervous tonics, phosphated, down to the most 
 startling of all, which, according to the London Echo of 
 June 2d, the Bishop of Exeter advertised when he 
 opened a coffee-house, saying : 
 
 '* It looks like beer, 
 It smells like beer, 
 It tastes like beer, 
 Yet it is not beer." 
 
 Better if it had been, your reverence, for your new 
 beverage was probably a villanous compound, certain 
 to work more injury than genuine beer. In this country 
 we also try to cheat the devil. I mean our unco good 
 people try it ; but we call it " bitters," and the worse 
 the whiskey the better the bitters.
 
 Anderton Hall. 207 
 
 Chorley, July 7. 
 As we approached Anderton Hall the English and 
 American flags were seen floating from the archway, 
 earnest of cordial welcome. We were quite at home 
 
 immediately. Mr. and Mrs. B had their family and 
 
 friends ready to greet us. The dining-hall was deco- 
 rated with the flags of the old and the new lands, grace- 
 fully intertwined, symbolizing the close and warm friend- 
 ship which exists between them — never, we hope, to be 
 again disturbed. We had a long walk about the place 
 and on the banks of the famous Rivington Reservoir, 
 which supplies Manchester with water. In the evening, 
 after dinner, came speeches. The evening passed de- 
 lightfully. Next day we were sorely tempted. Mr. 
 
 M was to have the school-children at his house to 
 
 be entertained, and an opportunity to see a novel cele- 
 bration was afforded us. Our host and hostess were 
 pressing in their invitation for us to stay, but one night 
 of fourteen guests, two servants, and four horses, was 
 surely enough ; so we blew our horn, and, with three 
 ringing cheers for Anderton Hall and all within it, drove 
 out of its hospitable gates. We stopped and paid our 
 
 respects to Mr. and Mrs. M as we passed their place, 
 
 and left them all with very sincere regret. How pleas- 
 ant it would be to linger ! but Inverness lies far in the 
 north. We are scarcely one-third of our way thither 
 and the time-table stares us in the face. We do not 
 quite " fold our tents like the Arabs and silently steal
 
 208 Four-in-Hand in Britain* 
 
 away," but at the thrilling call of the horn we mount, 
 and with cheers and God-speeds take our departure for 
 other scenes, but many a long day shall it be ere the 
 faces of the kind people we leave behind fade from our 
 memory. 
 
 Chorley has been one of the seats of the cotton 
 manufacture in England for more than two hundred 
 years, the business having been begun there about the 
 time of the Restoration. During the American Revolu- 
 tion it was visited, like other places in Lancashire, by 
 mobs who broke up the spinning machines because they 
 feared that they would deprive the poor of labor. 
 Similar mobs once destroyed sewing-machines in France. 
 What a commentary upon such short-sightedness has 
 been the success of the spinning-jenny and the sewing- 
 machine, and the revolution they have made in the 
 manufacturing industry of the world ! 
 
 Preston, July 8. 
 Preston, sixteen miles away, is our destination, 
 permitting a late start to be make. Our route is 
 still through a manufacturing district; for Manchester 
 reaches her arms far out in every direction. We pass 
 now and then a company of show-people with their 
 vans. Sometimes we find the caravan at rest, the old, 
 weary-looking horses nibbling the road-side grass, for 
 the irregularity of the hedges in England gives fine 
 little plots of grass along the hedge-rows, and nice off- 

 
 Strolling Players. 209 
 
 sets, as it were, in the road, where these strolling 
 players, and gypsies, pedlers, and itinerant venders of 
 all sorts of queer things, can call a halt and enjoy them- 
 selves. Every van appears to be invested with an air 
 of mystery, for was not our Shakespeare, 
 
 " Th' applause, delight, the wonder of our stage," 
 
 a strolling player, playing his part in barns and out- 
 houses to wondering rustics? There are such pos- 
 sibilities in every van that I greet the sweet little 
 child as if she were a princess in disguise, and the dark- 
 eyed, foreign-looking boy as if he might have within 
 him the soul of Buddha. I do not believe that any 
 other form of life has the attractions of this nomadic 
 existence. To make it perfect one should put away 
 enough in the funds as a reserve to be drawn upon when 
 he could not make the pittance necessary to feed and 
 clothe him and buy a few old copies of good books as 
 he passed through a village. The rule might be, only 
 when hungry shall this pocket-book be opened. I should 
 have one other contingency in order to be perfectly 
 happy — when I wanted to help a companion in distress. 
 Elia was truly not very far from it when he said that if 
 he were not the independent gentleman he was he 
 would be a beggar. So, if I were not the independent 
 gentleman I am, I would be a member of a strolling 
 band, such as we often pass in this crowded land, and 
 
 boast that Shakespeare was of our profession. What 
 14
 
 210 Four-in-Hand in Britain, 
 
 are the Charioteers, after all, in their happiest dream, 
 but aristocratic gypsies? That is the reason we are so 
 enraptured with the life. 
 
 But in Preston there is no scope for idealism. It is 
 a city where cotton is king. No town can be much less 
 attractive ; but, mark you, a few steps toward the river 
 and you overlook one of the prettiest parks in the world. 
 The Ribble runs at the foot of the sloping hill upon 
 which the city stands, and its banks have been converted 
 into the pleasure-ground I speak of, in which the toilers 
 sport in thousands and gaze upon the sweet fields of 
 living green beyond far into the country. It is not so 
 bad when the entire district is not given over to manu- 
 factures, as in Birmingham and Manchester. There is 
 the cloud, but there is the silver lining also. 
 
 If ever the people of England and America are 
 estranged in some future day, which God forbid, I could 
 wish that every American were duly informed of the 
 conduct of the people of Lancashire during the rebellion, 
 and, indeed, of England, Ireland, and Scotland as well, 
 but more particularly of such as were directly dependent 
 upon the supply of cotton for work, as was the case here. 
 The troops of Pennsylvania did not more truly fight the 
 battle of the Union at Gettysburg, than did the thou- 
 sands of men and women here under the lead of Bright 
 and Cobden, Potter, Forster, Storey, and others, who 
 held the enemies of Republicanism in check. The sacri- 
 fices they bore could never have been borne except for
 
 Preston. 2 1 1 
 
 a cause which they felt to be their own and held as 
 sacred. The ruling classes of the land were naturally 
 against the Republic. This we must always expect till 
 the day comes in Britain (and it is coming) when all forms 
 of hereditary privilege are swept away and the people 
 are equal politically one with another. Nothing could 
 possibly please the aristocracy of Britain, or any aristoc- 
 racy, more than the failure of a nation which ignores 
 aristocracy altogether. That is obvious. Human nature 
 would not be what it is were this not so, and they are 
 not blamable for it, but, resisting every temptation, the 
 working men of Britain — those to whom a Republic 
 promises so much, for it gives all men political equality 
 — these stood firm from first to last, the staunch and 
 unflinching friends of the Republic. Some day, perhaps, 
 it may be in the power of America to show that where 
 the interests of the masses of Britain are concerned, she 
 has not forgotten the deep debt she owes to them ; no 
 matter what the provocation, the people of America 
 must remember it is their turn to forbear for the sake, 
 not of the ruling classes, but for the sake of the masses 
 of Britain who were and are her devoted friends. 
 
 Preston, that is, Priest's Town, for it received its 
 name from the many ecclesiastics resident there as early 
 as the eighth century, was once the principal port of 
 Lancashire ; and when Charles I. collected ship-money 
 it was assessed for nearly twice the amount of Liver- 
 pool.
 
 212 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 This was the Charles of whom Lincoln knew so 
 little. Mr. Blaine tells this good story among a hun- 
 dred, for he is wonderful in this line : When Lincoln 
 and Seward went to Fortress Monroe to meet Mr. 
 Hunter, who represented the Confederate Government, 
 the latter was exceedingly anxious to get the President 
 to promise that if the rebels would lay down their arms 
 no confiscation of property (slaves, of course, included) 
 should follow, and that no man should be punished for 
 taking part in the rebellion. Mr. Hunter concluded by 
 saying that this would only be following the course 
 pursued in England after the contest with King Charles. 
 " Well, Mr. Hunter," said that sagacious and born 
 leader of men, Father Abraham, " my friend Seward 
 here is the historian of my Cabinet, but the only thing 
 I remember about King Charles is that Cromwell cut his 
 head off ! ' : Lincoln did not know very much, you see, 
 but then he knew the only part much worth knowing 
 upon the subject, which is one of the differences be- 
 tween a great man and a learned one. 
 
 It was at this celebrated interview that Lincoln 
 took up a blank sheet of writing-paper and said to the 
 Confederates, let me write Emancipation here at the top 
 and you can fill the rest of the page with your condi- 
 tions. 
 
 Lincoln seized the key of a political position as Napo- 
 leon did of a military one, and never relaxed his grasp. 
 He would tell stories all night and make his auditors
 
 Richelieu and Cromwell. 213 
 
 shout with laughter, but whenever the real business was 
 touched upon, he made his opponents feel that the 
 natural division was that the buzzard should fall to 
 them while his long bony fingers were already fast upon 
 the turkey. He could afford to joke and be patient, 
 for he saw the end from the beginning, and had faith in 
 the Republic. 
 
 See what the whirligig of time brings round. Near 
 Preston, in the valley of the Ribble, was fought in 1648 
 the battle of Preston or Ribblesdale, in which Cromwell 
 defeated the Scotch army under the Duke of Hamilton, 
 and the English army under Sir Marmaduke Lang- 
 dale. The Royalists were driven at the point of the 
 bayonet through the streets of Preston, and, though they 
 made a stand at Uttoxeter, were finally overthrown 
 and both generals and many thousand men made pris- 
 oners. It was a notable struggle, for the Royalists had 
 more than twice as many men as the Parliamentarians ; 
 but then the latter had the great Oliver, who knew how 
 and when to strike a blow. 
 
 Booth may not be great in anything, as some think, 
 but I do not know his equal in " Richelieu ; " and in one 
 scene in particular he has always seemed to me at his 
 very best. The king sits with his new minister, Baradas, 
 in attendance at his side. Richelieu reclines upon a sofa 
 exhausted while his secretaries " deliver up the papers 
 of a realm." A secretary is on his knee presenting 
 papers. He says:
 
 214 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 " The affairs of England, Sire, most urgent. Charles 
 The First has lost a battle that decides 
 One half his realm — craves moneys, Sire, and succor. 
 
 King. He shall have both. Eh, Baradas ? 
 
 Baradas. Yes, Sire. 
 
 Richelieu. {Feebly, but with great distinctness?) My liege — 
 Forgive me — Charles's cause is lost. A man, 
 Named Cromwell, risen — a great man — " 
 
 That is enough, a great man settles things ; a small 
 one nibbles away at petty reforms, although he knows 
 nothing is settled thereby, and that the question is only 
 pushed ahead for the time to break out again directly. 
 English politicians are mostly nibblers, though Gladstone 
 can take a good bite when put to it. 
 
 Will you lay " violent hands upon the Lord's anoint- 
 ed ? " " I'll anoint ye ! " says Cromwell, and then, I take 
 it, was settled for the future the " divine right of kings " 
 theory ; for since that time these curious appendages 
 of a free state have been kept for show, and we hear 
 nothing more of the " divinity which doth hedge a king." 
 Some one of the party remarked that we had not seen 
 a statue or even a picture of England's great Protector. 
 I told them a wise man once said that the reason Crom- 
 well's statue was not put among those of the other 
 rulers of England at Westminster was because he would 
 dwarf them. But his day is coming. We shall have 
 him there in his proper place by and by, and how small 
 hereditary rulers will seem beside him ! 
 
 We noticed in the Pall Mall Gazette a curious proof
 
 Cromwell at Drury Lane. 215 
 
 of Cromwell's place in the hearts of the people of Eng- 
 land. The pantomime at Drury Lane had a scene in 
 which all the Kings and Queens of England marched 
 across the stage in gorgeous procession. Each was 
 greeted with cheers or hisses or with more or less cordial 
 greeting as the audience thought deserved. When Crom- 
 well appeared in the line a few hisses were answered by 
 round after round of cheering, and the Lord Protector 
 nightly received a popular ovation far beyond that ac- 
 corded to any other ruler. That the manager of the 
 leading theatre in London should have thought it ad- 
 missible to introduce the Republican among the Kings 
 is a straw which shows a healthy breeze blowing in the 
 political currents of English life. 
 
 He was truly a host in himself ; besides, his men were 
 fighting for something better than had been, the others 
 only for maintaining what had before existed. It is this 
 which drives Conservatives to the wall when radicalism 
 moves in earnest upon them. The aspirations of the 
 race for further and higher development nerve the arm 
 which strikes down the barriers of an ignorant past. 
 Who could battle enthusiastically only for such incom- 
 plete and unsatisfactory development as we have already 
 reached and pronounce it good ! The prize is not worth 
 it. What the race is capable of achieving in the broad 
 future is the mainspring of our assault upon every abuse 
 or privilege, the heritage of the past which disgraces 
 the present.
 
 216 Foui'-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 At Preston many of us received letters from home. 
 Harry's funny one from his little daughter Emma (a 
 namesake of our Emma of the Charioteers) gave us a 
 good laugh. I remember there was one announcement 
 particularly noteworthy : " Ninety dollars gone to smash, 
 papa. The pony's dead." There is your future special 
 correspondent for you. 
 
 At eleven o'clock this evening the party received a 
 notable addition — Andrew M., my old schoolfellow and 
 " the Maester's son," arrived from Dunfermline. He was 
 received at the station by a committee especially ap- 
 pointed for the purpose, and shortly thereafter duly 
 initiated into all the rites and mysteries of the Gay 
 Charioteers. He was required, late as it was, to sing 
 two Scotch songs to determine his eligibility. There 
 may be some man who can sing " Oh ! why left I my 
 hame ? " — my favorite at present, and written by Gilfil- 
 lan in Dunfermline, note that — or " When the kye come 
 hame," better than our new member, but none of us has 
 been so fortunate as to meet him, nor have I ever heard 
 one who could sing them as well for me ; but there may 
 be a touch of Auld Lang Syne in his voice which strikes 
 chords in my heart and sets them vibrating. There are 
 subtle sympathies lurking in the core of man's nature, 
 responsive to no law but their own, but I notice all press 
 Andrew to sing, and keep very quiet when he does. We 
 had the pleasure of seeing the new member get just as 
 daft as the rest of us next day, gathering wild flowers
 
 Scotch Songs. 217 
 
 along the hedgerows, the glittering, towering coach 
 coming up to us. He had time to say: "Man, this 
 canna be vera bad for us ! " No, not very ; only we did 
 not know then how bad it would be for us when, after the 
 dream-like existence had passed and we were back once 
 more to our labors of this work-a-day world, thrown out 
 as it were from a paradise and falling as Milton's Satan 
 fell ; but it's better to have loved and lost than never 
 to have loved at all. 
 
 Fortunately we did not know then that for months 
 after our fall there were to be only sad memories of days 
 of happiness so unalloyed that they can never again be 
 equalled. It is not at all desirable to be honestly per- 
 suaded that you never again can have seven weeks of 
 such days as made us happy, innocent children ; but we 
 shall see. There are as good fish in the sea as were ever 
 caught, and though it is true they do not seem to bite 
 as they used to, may be we can venture to try coaching 
 again. The height of our musical season was during 
 this part of the journey. Miss R., Miss J., and Mrs. 
 K. are all musical and blessed with the power of song. 
 Messrs. M., McC. and K. differ only as one star differs 
 from another in glory ; and there was another gentle- 
 man, who shall be nameless, who sang without being 
 asked, and who, as usual, was not encored by his unap- 
 preciative audience, his being evidently the music of the 
 future. 
 
 Davie deserves notice. He sang a beautiful Scotch
 
 218 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 song to-day, " Cowden Knowes," and when he was done 
 Andrew immediately asked : " Whaur did ye get that ? 
 Ye didna get that out of a book! " 
 
 Right, my boy. It was at his father's knee. Who 
 ever learnt a Scotch song out of books ? They are pos- 
 sessed of souls, these songs, to be caught only from 
 living lips. The bodies alone are to be found within 
 the bars. 
 
 Passing Bolton we saw the first bowling green, sure 
 proof that we are getting northward, where every village 
 has its green and its bowling club, the ancient game of 
 bowls still offering to rural England attractions para- 
 mount to more modern sports. 
 
 We lunched at Grisdalebrook, ten miles from Lan- 
 caster, which was to be our stopping-place. To-day's 
 drive was made fragrant by the scent of new-mown hay, 
 and we passed many bands of merry haymakers. When 
 Dickens pronounced no smell the best smell, he must 
 have momentarily forgotten that which so delighted us. 
 I do give up most of the so-called fine smells, but there 
 are a few better than Dickens's best, and surely that of to- 
 day is of them. We went into a Catholic church in one 
 of our strolls — for let it be remembered many a glorious 
 tramp we had — and the coach was rarely honored with 
 all the party when a chance to walk presented itself. 
 The requests posted upon the door of this church seemed 
 to carry one back a long way : 
 
 " Of your charity pray for the soul of Rebecca Robinson, who 
 
 ■I WI W—
 
 The Roman Church. 219 
 
 died June 7th, 1880, fortified with rites of Holy Church, on whose 
 soul sweet Jesus have mercy. R. I. P." 
 
 There were several such requests. What a power 
 that church has been and is, only one who has travelled 
 the world round can know. In England here it is but a 
 sickly, foreign plant, so fearfully foreign. We can all 
 repeat Buddha's words and apply them to it, but they 
 should not stop here : 
 
 " And third came she who gives dark creeds their power, 
 Silabbat-paramasa, sorceress, 
 Draped fair in many lands as lowly Faith, 
 But ever juggling souls with rites and prayers ; 
 The keeper of those keys which lock up Hells 
 And open Heavens. ' Wilt thou dare ? ' she said, 
 * Put by our sacred books, dethrone our gods, 
 Unpeople all the temples, shaking down 
 That law which feeds the priests and props the realm ? ' 
 But Buddha answered, ' What thou bidd'st me keep 
 Is form which passes, but the free truth stands ; 
 Get thee unto thy darkness.' " 
 
 Say what we will about the Roman Church, there is 
 something sublime in her attitude. Neither sense nor 
 reason make the slightest impression upon her ; for she 
 stands confident in her power and her right to save, de- 
 nying the power to others, regardless of the conclusions 
 of science and the fuller knowledge of to-day. This 
 gives her the hold she obtains among the ignorant 
 masses, whether at home or abroad.
 
 220 Four-in-Hand hi Britain. 
 
 The world-wide influence of this faith can never be 
 rightly estimated until one has visited the missions 
 throughout India, China, and Japan. The converts are 
 generally to the Catholic church. To-day on the coach 
 in speaking of this, I told an inquirer that in my opinion 
 one, if not the chief, obstacle to the success of missions 
 to the heathen, lies in the differences between the Chris- 
 tian sects, and I illustrated it by a story : 
 
 One day in China I asked our guide Ah Cum, a gen- 
 tleman and a scholar, and a man of excellent mind, why 
 he did not embrace Christianity. His eyes twinkled 
 as he replied : " Where goee, eh ? Goee Bishopee ? 
 (pointing to the Cathedral). He say, allee rightee. Go 
 there ? (pointing to the English church). Bishop say 
 damme! Goee Hopper? (the American Presbyterian 
 Missionary). He sayee Bishop churchee no goodee — 
 hellee firee. What I do'ee ? eh ! " 
 
 " Stay where you are, you rogue." Confound the 
 fellow ! I did not expect to be picked up in that man- 
 ner. 
 
 Ah Cum was severely let alone after that upon the 
 subject of his conversion. I have no hope of him until 
 we agree among ourselves exactly what we wish the 
 heathen to accept. It is in vain we preach one God 
 and five different religions ; there must be only one 
 true religion as well. Ah Cum's defence of the worship 
 of ancestors was clever. It ran thus : All religions 
 acknowledge the Creator of life as the true object of
 
 Lancaster. 221 
 
 worship. Taking hold of his watch chain he began at 
 the first link and said : " I worshipee my parents (pass- 
 ing one link), my parents worshipee their parents " 
 (passing another link, and so on till he had passed quite 
 a number) ; " by by come to firstee, lifee Goddee. You 
 jump up sky all oncee, miss him, may be." 
 
 He thought he had a sure thing passing up link by 
 link to the end. We need clever missionaries to hold 
 their own with these Celestials. 
 
 Lancaster, July 9, 10. 
 We had done our twenty-nine miles from Preston 
 and reached Lancaster in good season. There we had 
 a treat. The High Sheriff for the county had just been 
 elected and made his entry into town according to im- 
 memorial custom. He represents royalty in the county 
 during his term of office, which I believe is only two 
 years. It costs the recipient of the honor a large sum 
 to maintain the dignities of the office, for its emolu- 
 ments are nil. The sheriff was staying at our hotel, a 
 very fine one, The County. He is wakened every morn- 
 ing by two heralds richly dressed in the olden style and 
 bearing halberds. They stand in front of the hotel and 
 sound their bugles to call His Highness forth. It is the 
 Lord Mayor's procession on a small scale. Nobody 
 laughs outright at the curious mixture of feudal cus- 
 toms with this age's requirements, however much every- 
 body may laugh in his sleeve ; but England will have
 
 222 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 lost some picturesque features when all the shams are 
 gone. If mankind were not greatly influenced by- 
 forms, I could wish that just enough of the " good old 
 times " — which were very bad times indeed — could be 
 preserved, if only to prove how far we have outgrown 
 them; but every form and every sham, from royalty 
 downward, carries its good or evil with it. That not 
 only the substance should be right, but that the form 
 should correspond truly to it, is important if we are to 
 be honest ; so I reconcile myself to the passing away of 
 all forms which no longer honestly represent what they 
 imply. 
 
 Lancaster is a beautiful place and noted for its ad- 
 mirable charitable institutions. The lunatic asylum and 
 an orphanage attracted our special attention. These 
 and kindred institutions abound in England, and are 
 ably conducted. Rich Englishmen do not leave their 
 fortunes for uses of this kind as often as Americans do. 
 The ambition to found a family, and the maintenance of 
 an aristocratic class by means of primogeniture and 
 entail, tend to divert fortunes from this nobler path into 
 the meaner end of elevating a name in the social scale ; 
 but the general public in Britain is most generous, and 
 immense sums in the aggregate are annually collected 
 for charitable institutions. It is common for a class to 
 support its own unfortunates. The commercial travel- 
 lers, for instance, have an extensive home near London 
 for children of their fellows and for members in their
 
 A Noble Charity. 223 
 
 old age, and there is scarcely a branch of industry which 
 does not follow this example. 
 
 One cannot travel far without seeing that the British 
 are a people most mindful of the unfortunate. These 
 pretty homes of refuge and of rest we see scattered 
 everywhere over the land, nor are they the least glori- 
 ous of the many monuments of England's true worth. 
 
 A Mr. Ripley, of Lancaster, left his fortune for an 
 orphanage, open to all orphan children born within fif- 
 teen miles of Lancaster. Three hundred are now pro- 
 vided for, but so rapidly has the fund grown that it has 
 been found practicable to extend the boundaries of its 
 beneficence, and children from distant Liverpool are now 
 admitted. Bravo ! Mr. Ripley. What is an earldom 
 for your eldest son to this ! His father's name will 
 carry him farther with the best, and he should be 
 prouder of it. Show me the earl who has done as much 
 for his neighborhood ! 
 
 Lancaster Castle is a noble one. Here John o' 
 Gaunt hundreds of years ago put his finger upon the 
 dire root of England's woes, as far as the land goes : 
 
 "This dear, dear land, 
 Dear for her reputation through the world, 
 Is now leas'd out." 
 
 There you have it — this England is leased out. The 
 soil is not worked by its owners, and never, till England 
 changes its practice and can boast a peasant proprietary
 
 224 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 working its own acres in small farms, untrammelled by- 
 vicious laws, will she know what miracles can be wrought 
 by those who call each little spot their own — their 
 home. Englishmen are slow to change, but the day 
 is not far distant when ownership of land will depend 
 upon residence on it and its proper cultivation. Den- 
 mark's example will be followed. Cumulative taxes will 
 be levied upon each number of acres beyond a minimum 
 number, and large proprietors taxed out of existence as 
 they have been in Denmark, to the country's good and 
 nobody's injury. We tax a man who keeps racing-horses 
 or who sports armorial bearings. It is the same princi- 
 ple : we can tax a man who keeps a larger amount of 
 land than he can work to the State's advantage. The 
 rights of property are all very well in their place, but 
 the rights of man and the good of the commonwealth 
 are far beyond them. I wish England would just let 
 me arrange that little land matter for her. It would 
 save her a generation of agitation. 
 
 Lancaster was an ancient Roman station, as is shown 
 by its name — Lune or Lone Castrum, the castle or 
 camp on the Lune or Lone, the little river which 
 washes its plain. For what saith Spencer in the Faery 
 Queen: 
 
 " After came the strong shallow Lone 
 
 That to old Lancaster its name doth lend." 
 
 The memory of man goeth not back to the time
 
 Lancaster Castle. 225 
 
 when the first castle was built. Indeed it is of little 
 consequence now, for it was almost entirely razed by 
 the Scots in the fourteenth century. 
 
 The present noble structure, or rather the older part 
 of it, is the work of John O'Gaunt, that son of a king 
 who was almost a king himself, and who became the 
 father of kings. To him is due the magnificent Gateway 
 Tower, flanked by two octagonal turrets sixty-six feet 
 high, surrounded by watch-towers. Around the towers 
 and across the curtain, perforated by the gate, which 
 connects them, are overhanging battlements with ver- 
 tical openings for pouring down molten metal or hot 
 water on the heads of assailants. In a niche in front 
 is a full-length statue of John O'Gaunt in the costume 
 of his day, placed there in 1822. The sole remaining 
 turret of the Lungess Tower, eighty-eight feet high, is 
 called John O'Gaunt's Chair. It commands a view of 
 great extent, comprising the hills of Cumberland and 
 Westmoreland and nearly the whole extent of the 
 valley of the Lune, with the Irish Sea in the distance. 
 
 Some moralists, who believe that men and times are 
 degenerate, may lament that this grand old castle — the 
 ancient residence of nobles — should now be the abode 
 of criminals ; but, while equally desirous that its archi- 
 tectural wonders may be preserved, I am not inclined 
 to admit that the thieves and cutthroats who now have 
 their homes within its walls through the puissance of 
 the law are any worse morally than were many of the 
 15
 
 226 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 noble barons who robbed and ravished in the good 
 old times when the question of might versus right was 
 always settled in favor of the plaintiff. Some of them 
 indeed more richly merited a halter than the comfort- 
 able seclusion from the outer world accorded to their 
 modern representatives. Even good old John O'Gaunt 
 himself was not so virtuous that he could shy moral 
 stones at his neighbors. 
 
 Sunday was spent in Lancaster, and much enjoyed. 
 The service in church was fine and the afternoon's ex- 
 cursion to the country delightful. Here Miss A. B. 
 and Mr. D. left us after receiving the blessing of the 
 party. Miss G. and Miss D., who were to join us here, 
 failed us, but we fortunately found them waiting at 
 Kendall. We started for that town, twenty-two miles 
 distant, on Monday morning. It is the entrance to the 
 celebrated Lake District. Messrs. T. and M., whom 
 we had met at Anderton Hall, passed us on Satur- 
 day, before we reached Lancaster, on bicycles. They 
 were out for a run of a hundred and five miles that 
 day, to visit friends beyond that city. We meet such 
 travellers often. Their club now numbers seven thou- 
 sand members. For an annual payment of half a crown 
 (62 cents), a member has lists of routes and hotels sent 
 him for any desired district, with the advantage of re- 
 duced charges. It is nothing to do a hundred miles 
 per day ; many have ridden from London to Bath, 
 two hundred miles, within the twenty-four hours.
 
 Bicycles. 227 
 
 The country swarms with these fellows, I saw fifteen 
 hundred in Bushy Park one day at a meet. I think 
 seventy-five clubs were there, each in a different uni- 
 form. Bicycles are also growing in use for practical 
 purposes, and many post-routes in the country are 
 served by men who use these machines. But it takes 
 roads like the English, and a level country, to do much 
 with them. 
 
 Our evening was spent in visiting the ruined castle 
 and admiring a pretty Japanese kind of garden, so much 
 in so little space, which attracted our attention as we 
 passed. The owner, Mr. T., a solicitor, kindly invited 
 us in, and afterward showed us his house. We are 
 always receiving kindnesses from all sorts and conditions 
 of men. 
 
 Next day, July 12th, our objective point was Grass- 
 mere, eighteen miles away. Such a lovely morning ! 
 but, indeed, we are favored beyond measure with superb 
 weather all the time. This stage in our progress intro- 
 duced us to the scenery of the lakes, and we all felt 
 that it deserved its Wordsworth ; but were we ever to let 
 loose and enter the descriptive, where would it lead ? 
 This is the rock upon which many a fair venture in 
 story-telling has suffered shipwreck. Great mountains 
 always carry one upward, but those of the Lake 
 District are not great, nor is there anything great in 
 the region. All is very sweet and pleasing and has 
 its own peculiar charm, like the school of Lake Poets.
 
 228 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 At Bowness, about midway of the lake, we left the 
 coach for the first time for any other kind of convey- 
 ance. After enjoying a rare treat in a sail up and down 
 the lake in the pretty steamer, we rejoined the coach at 
 Ambleside, where we had ordered it to await us. 
 
 Passing Storr's Hall, the mind wandered back to the 
 meeting there of Wordsworth, Southey, Coleridge, Chris- 
 topher North, and greater than all, our own Walter 
 Scott ; and surely not in all the earth could a fitter spot 
 than this have been found for their gathering. How 
 much the world of to-day owes to the few names who 
 spent days together here ! Not often can you say of 
 one little house, " Here had we our country's honor 
 roofed " to so great an extent as it would be quite al- 
 lowable to say in this instance. But behold the vanity of 
 human aspirations ! If there was one wish dearer than 
 another to the greatest of these men, it was that Ab- 
 botsford should remain from generation to generation 
 the home of his race. This very hour, while sailing on 
 the lake, a newspaper was handed to me, and my eye 
 caught the advertisement, "Abbotsford to let," fol- 
 lowed by the stereotyped description, so many recep- 
 tion-rooms, nursery, outbuildings, and offices, suitable 
 for a gentleman's establishment. Shade of the mighty 
 Wizard of the North, has it come to this ! Oh, the pity 
 of it ! the pity of it ! Well for your fame that you 
 built for mankind other than this stately home of your 
 pride. It will crumble and pass utterly away long be-
 
 Abbots ford to Let! 229 
 
 fore the humble cot of Jeannie Deans shall fade from 
 the memory of man. The time will come when the 
 largest son of time, who wandering sang to a listening 
 world, shall be as much forgot 
 
 " As the canoe that crossed a lonely lake 
 A thousand years ago." 
 
 But even the New Zealander who stands on the ruins 
 of London Bridge will know something of Walter Scott 
 if he knows much worth knowing. " Abbotsford to 
 let !" This to come to us just as we were passing one 
 of the haunts of Scott, than whom no greater Scot ever 
 lived save one. Fortunately no such blow is possible for 
 the memory of Burns. 
 
 " After life's fitful fever, he sleeps well ; 
 Treason has done his worst : nor steel, nor poison. 
 
 Malice domestic, nothing, 
 
 Can touch him further ! " 
 
 For this let us be thankful. We visited Words- 
 worth's grave reverently in the twilight. Fresh, very 
 fresh flowers lay upon it. God bless the hand that 
 strewed them there this day ! I think the following 
 the one very great thing he gave the world ; it contains 
 " the golden guess which ever is the morning star to 
 the full round of truth." The thought of the age — 
 whether right or wrong we need not discuss — is hither- 
 ward :
 
 230 Four-in-Hand in Britain, 
 
 " For I have learned 
 To look on Nature, not as in the hour 
 Of thoughtless youth ; but hearing oftentimes 
 The still, sad music of humanity, 
 Not harsh nor grating, though of ample power 
 To chasten and subdue. And I have felt 
 A presence that disturbs me with the joy 
 Of elevated thoughts : a sense sublime 
 Of something far more deeply interfused, 
 Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns, 
 And the round ocean, and the living air, 
 And the blue sky, and in the mind of man 
 A motion and a spirit that impels 
 All thinking things, all objects of all thought, 
 And rolls through all things." 
 
 There's a platform upon which this sceptical age 
 may eventually stand. It is not materialistic and it is 
 not dogmatic ; perhaps it is the golden mean between 
 extremes. I commend its teachings to both sides of all 
 the cock-sure disputants, one of whom knows it is just so, 
 and the other as presumptuously knows there is nothing 
 to know. Let them shake hands and await patiently the 
 coming of clearer light, and get together in solid work 
 here. Surely there is enough to keep them busy. We 
 still " see through a glass darkly." 
 
 We spent our night at Grassmere, and had a fine 
 row upon the lake ; and can anything be finer than music 
 upon the waters, the dip of the oar, the cadence of the 
 song which seems to float upon the glassy lake ? It came
 
 Carnegie Weather. 231 
 
 to us again lulling us to sleep — the sweetest lullaby, 
 sure precursor of happy dreams. 
 
 Grassmere, July 13. 
 " Right, Perry ! " Off for Keswick, only twelve 
 miles distant ; but who wants to hurry away from 
 scenes like these? It rained heavily through the night, 
 but this morning is grand for us. The mist was on the 
 mountains though, and the clouds passed slowly over 
 them, wrapping the tops in their mantle. The numer- 
 ous rills dashing down the bare mountains were the 
 themes of much praise. They reminded me of two fine 
 verses from the " Light of Asia " upon " Being's cease- 
 less tide," 
 
 " Which, ever-changing, runs, linked like a river 
 
 By ripples following ripples, fast or slow — 
 The same, yet not the same — from far-off fountains 
 
 To where its waters flow 
 Into the seas. These steaming to the sun, 
 
 Give the lost wavelets back in cloudy fleece 
 To trickle down the hills, and glide again ; 
 
 Knowing no pause or peace." 
 
 We seem to be miraculously protected from rain. 
 Many times it has poured during the night, and yet 
 the days have been perfect. " Carnegie weather " be- 
 gins to be talked about, and we are all disposed to 
 accept the inference that the fair goddess Fortune has 
 fallen deep in love with us, since Prosperity seems to be 
 our page during this journey.
 
 232 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 The influence of America and of American ideas 
 upon England is seen in various ways. We meet fre- 
 quently one who has visited the Republic, whose ad- 
 vanced ideas, in consequence of the knowledge derived 
 from actual contact with American affairs, are very de- 
 cidedly proclaimed. 
 
 While on the train to-day we met a rattler of this 
 kind, who gave many instances of the non-receptivity 
 of his countrymen. I remember one of his complaints 
 was in regard to a pea-sheller which he had seen at 
 work in one of our monster hotels. He was so pleased 
 that he bought one and took it in triumph to his inn- 
 keeper at home : " Blessed if the servants would work 
 it, sir ; no, sir, wouldn't shell a pea with it, sir. Look 
 where we are in the race of new inventions, sir. We re 
 not in it. Lord bless you, sir, England isnt in it." 
 
 This man, like converts in general to new ideas, 
 went much too far. Any one who thinks that England 
 is not in the race, and pretty well placed too, has not 
 looked very deep. We did what we could to give him 
 a juster conception of his country's position than he ap- 
 parently entertained. " What on earth," I said to him, 
 " has a small English hotel to do with a pea-sheller? I 
 have never heard of this Yankee notion, but I doubt 
 not that one pea-sheller would shell all the peas required 
 by all the guests of all the hotels in town, if they fed 
 the inmates on nothing but pea soup ! " But he would 
 not be convinced. It was just the same with any other
 
 American Presidents and Royalty. 233 
 
 improvement, he said, and he got out at a station, mut- 
 tering as he went : " No, sir, she isn't in it, I tell you ; she 
 isn't in it." All right, you constitutional grumbler, have 
 it your own way. If this man were upon our side, he 
 would not live twenty-four hours without finding fault 
 with something. He is one of those who carry their pea- 
 sheller with them, or find it at every turn. He belongs 
 to the class of grumblers — those who cannot enjoy the 
 bright genial rays of the sun for thinking of the spots 
 upon it — just such another as he who found that even 
 in Paradise " the halo did not fit his head exactly." 
 
 The coaches in the Lake District have now the Eng- 
 lish and the American flags upon their sides, and we 
 often see the Stars and Stripes displayed at hotels. Our 
 present hostelry has a flaming advertisement ending 
 with : " Patrons — Royalty and American Presidents." 
 There must be slender grounds for both claims, I fancy. 
 General Grant, however, may have been there. As the 
 elected of the largest division of the English-speaking 
 race, he no doubt outranked all other patrons, and the 
 proper way to put it would be " American Presidents 
 and Royalty." 
 
 At luncheon to-day it was found that our drinkables 
 had better be cooled in the brook — an unusual perform- 
 ance this for England ; but how vividly this little inci- 
 dent brings to mind the happy scene — the row of 
 bottles (contents mostly harmless) in the stream, stick- 
 ing up their tiny heads as if resentful at the extraor-
 
 234 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 dinary bath ! Do not imagine that our party were 
 worse to water than to corn ; sixteen hungry people 
 need a good many bottles of various kinds, for we had 
 many tastes to gratify. We were all temperance people, 
 however ; a few of us even total abstinence, who re- 
 quired special attention, for their milk and lemonade 
 were often more difficult to procure than all the other 
 fluids. The guest who gives least trouble in England, in 
 the drinkable department, is he who takes beer. 
 
 At Keswick we wandered round the principal square 
 and laughed at the curious names of the inns there. In 
 this region inns abound. Almost every house in that 
 square offered entertainment for man and beast. Here 
 is a true copy of names of inns noted in a few squares 
 in the village : " Fighting Cocks," " Packhorse," " Red 
 Lion," " Dog and Duck," " Black Lion," " Deerhound," 
 "White Hart," "Green Lion," "Pig and Whistle," 
 " White Lion," " Black Bull," " Elephant and Castle," 
 " Lamb and Lark," " The Fish." If the whole village 
 were scanned there would be beasts enough commemo- 
 rated in its inns to make a respectable menagerie. In- 
 deed, for that one " Green Lion" Barnum might safely 
 pay more than for Jumbo. 
 
 The names of English inns we have seen elsewhere 
 are equally odd; let me note a few: " Hen and Chick- 
 ens," " Dog and Doublet," " King and Crown," " Hole in 
 the Wall," " Struggling Man," " Jonah and the Ark," 
 " Angel and Woolsack," " Adam and Eve," " Rose and
 
 Freedom and Equality. 235 
 
 Crown," " Crown and Cushion." Wc laughed at one 
 with an old-fashioned swinging sign, upon which a 
 groom was scrubbing away at a naked black man (you 
 could almost hear his pruss, pruss, pruss). The name 
 of the house was " Labor in Vain Inn " — a perfect illus- 
 tration, no doubt, in one sense; in the higher sense, not 
 so. Under the purifying influences of equality, found 
 only in republican institutions, America has taught the 
 world she can soon make white men out of black. Her 
 effort to change the slave into a freeman has been any- 
 thing but labor in vain ; what is under the skin can be 
 made white enough always, if we go at it with the right 
 brush. None genuine unless stamped with the well- 
 known brand " Republic." " All men are born free and 
 equal" is warranted to cure the most desperate cases 
 when all other panaceas fail, from a mild monarchy up 
 to a German despotism; and is especially adapted for 
 Irishmen. To be well shaken, however, before taken, 
 and applied internally, externally, and eternally, like 
 Colonel Sellers' eye-wash. 
 
 Harry and I were absent part of this day, having run 
 down to Workington to see our friend Mr. G., at the 
 Steel Rail Mills. Pardon us !— this was our only taste 
 of business during the trip ; never had the affairs of this 
 world been so completely banished from our thoughts. 
 To get back to blast-furnaces and rolling mills was dis- 
 tressing ; but we could not well pass our friend's door, 
 so to speak. We have nothing to say about manu-
 
 236 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 facturing, for it is just with that as with their political 
 institutions : England keeps about a generation behind, 
 and yet deludes herself with the idea that she is the 
 leader among nations. The truth is, she is often not 
 even a good follower where others lead, but exceptions 
 must be noted here : a few of her ablest men are not be- 
 hind America in manufacturing, for there are one or 
 perhaps two establishments in England which lead 
 America. A great race is the British when they do go 
 to work and get rid of their antiquated prejudices. 
 Visitors to America like Messrs. Howard, Lothian Bell, 
 Windsor Richards, Martin, and others, have no preju- 
 dices which stick. But let Uncle Sam look out. If he 
 thinks John Bull will remain behind in the industrial or 
 the political race either, I do not ; and I believe when 
 he sets to work in earnest he cannot be beaten. The 
 Republic of England, when it comes, will excel all other 
 republics as much as the English monarchy has excelled 
 all other monarchies, or as much as Windsor Richards' 
 steel practice and plant excel any we can boast of here 
 at present. It is our turn now to take a step forward, 
 unless we are content to be beaten. This is all right. 
 Long may the two branches of the family stimulate 
 each other to further triumphs, the elder encouraging 
 us to hold fast that which is good, the younger pointing 
 the way upward and onward — a race in which neither 
 can lose, but in which both must win ! Clear the 
 course ! Fair play and victory to both !
 
 Democracy in England. 237 
 
 The report of the annual public debate of Uni- 
 versity College, London, attracted our notice to-day 
 before leaving Kendal. The subject debated was : 
 "That the advance of Democracy in England will 
 tend to strengthen the Foundations of Society." 
 
 Lord Rosebery presided, and it is his speech at the 
 close which possesses political significance as coming 
 from one who wears his rank 
 
 " For the sake of liberal uses 
 And of great things to be done," 
 
 and of whom almost any destiny may be predicted if he 
 hold the true course. He said : 
 
 " As regards government, there seemed to be great 
 advantage in democracy. With an oligarchy the re- 
 sponsibility was too great and the penalty for failure too 
 high. He did not share the asperity manifested by one 
 of the speakers against American institutions, and, hav- 
 ing visited the country on several occasions, he felt the 
 greatest warmth for America and the American people. 
 Persons who elected by free choice a moderate intellect 
 to represent them were better off than those who had a 
 leviathan intellect placed over them against their will, 
 and this free choice the people of the United States 
 possessed. It had been said by the opponents of de- 
 mocracy that the best men in America devoted them- 
 selves to money-getting ; but this was a strong argu- 
 ment in its favor, as showing that democracy was not
 
 238 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 correctly represented as a kind of grabbing at the 
 property of others." 
 
 Never were truer words spoken than these, my lord. 
 What a pity you were not allowed the privilege of start- 
 ing " at scratch " in life's race, like Gladstone or Dis- 
 raeli ! From any success achieved there must be made 
 the just deduction for so many yards allowed Lord 
 Rosebery. Receive the sincere condolences of him who 
 welcomed you to honorary membership of the Burns 
 Club of New York, not because of these unfortunate, 
 unfair disadvantages, for he would not have welcomed a 
 prince for his rank, but for your merits as a man. 
 
 Penrith, July 14. 
 
 We reached Penrith, July 14th, after a delightful day's 
 drive. Never were the Gay Charioteers happier, for the 
 hilly ground gave us many opportunities for grand 
 walks. When these come it is a red-letter day. The 
 pleasure of walking should rank as one of the seven dis- 
 tinct pleasures of existence, and yet I have some friends 
 who know nothing of it ; they are not coaching through 
 England, however. 
 
 I have omitted to chronicle the change that came 
 over the Queen Dowager shortly after we started from 
 Wolverhampton ; till then she had kept the seat of 
 honor next to Perry, inviting one after another as a 
 special honor to sit in front with her. She soon dis- 
 covered that a good deal of the fun going on was missed ;
 
 On the Borders. 239 
 
 besides, she had not all of us under her eye. Her seat 
 was exchanged for the middle of the back form, where 
 she was supported by one on each side, while four others 
 had their faces turned to hers, giving an audience of no 
 less than six for her stories and old ballads. Her 
 tongue went from morning till night, if I do say it, and 
 her end of the coach was always in for its share of any 
 frolic stirring. She was " in a gale " all day to-day, and 
 kept us all roaring. 
 
 Our next stage would take us to Carlisle, the border- 
 town behind which lay the sacred soil, " Scotia dear." 
 Mr. B. and his son joined us here and went on with us 
 the last day upon English soil, waving adieu, as it were, 
 as we plunged into Scotland. Mr. and Mrs. K. left us 
 for Paisley to see the children, and what a loss I here 
 record no one but the members can possibly under- 
 stand. Aaleck and Aggie gone! If anything could 
 long dampen the joyous spirits of the party, this separa- 
 tion surely would have done it ; but we were to meet 
 again in Edinburgh, where the reconstruction of the 
 Charioteers was to take place. At Carlisle, too, the 
 Parisians were to be welcomed back again — plenty to 
 look forward to, you see. We started for Carlisle July 
 15th, the day superb as usual. 
 
 We had left the Lake District, with its hills and 
 flowing streams, to pass through a tamer land ; but our 
 luncheon to-day, in a field near " Heskcth in the 
 Forest," was not unromantic. The members from
 
 240 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 Anderton Hall caught the fever, as was usual with 
 neophytes, and regretted that their return was impera- 
 tively required. One day gave them a taste of the true 
 gypsy life. Hesketh was " in the Forest," no doubt, 
 but this was many long years ago. To-day there is 
 nothing to justify its name. Smiling green fields, roads 
 as perfect as they can be made, pretty houses, trim 
 hedge-rows and gardens, and all so intensely civilized as 
 to bring vividly before you the never ceasing change 
 which the surface of the earth undergoes to fit it for the 
 sustenance of dense masses of men. 
 
 Carlisle, July 15. 
 
 Here is reconstruction for you with a vengeance ! 
 First, let us mourn the unhappy departures : Mr. and 
 Mrs. K. went yesterday and Miss R., Miss G., the Misses 
 B., Miss D. and Mr. B. and son go to-day. Cousin 
 Maggie, who had become absorbed in this kind of life, 
 so dazed with happiness, her turn has come too, even 
 she must go ; Andrew M., with his fine Scotch aroma 
 and his songs, must report to his superior officer at the 
 encampment, for is he not a gallant volunteer and an 
 officer under Her Majesty, " sworn never to desert his 
 home except in case of invasion ! " Well, we cannot help 
 these miserable changes in this world, nor the " sawt, 
 sawt tears " of the young ladies as they kiss each other, 
 swearing eternal friendship, and sob good-byes. 
 
 But if farewell ever sighs, welcome comes in smiling.
 
 Farewell to Engla?id. 241 
 
 Look ! Cousin E. in my arms and a warm kiss of wel- 
 come ! That is the very best of consolation. Clever, 
 artistic Miss R., too, from Edinburgh ; and then are we 
 not to have our four originals back again, after two long 
 weeks' absence ! It was fortunate that our sad farewells 
 were so promptly followed by smiling welcomes. 
 
 Do any people love their country as passionately as 
 the Scotch ? I mean the earth of it, the very atoms of 
 which its hills and glens are composed. I doubt it. 
 Now here is Maggie, a dou&e, quiet, sensible girl. I 
 tried to say something cheery to her to-day as we were 
 approaching Carlisle, where we were to part, reminding 
 her jokingly that she had received five weeks' coaching 
 while her poor sister Eliza would have only two. " Ah ! 
 but she has Scotland, Naig! " " Do you really mean to 
 tell me that you would rather have two weeks in your 
 own country than five weeks seeing a new land, and that 
 land England, with London and Brighton, and the lakes 
 and all?" I just wish you could have seen and heard 
 how the " Of course " came in reply. The Scotch always 
 have Scotland first in their hearts, and some of them, I 
 really believe, will get into trouble criticising Paradise 
 if it be found to differ materially from Scotland. 
 
 To-morrow we are to enter that land of lands. Fair 
 England, farewell ! How graciously kind has been the 
 reception accorded by you to the wanderers ! How 
 beautiful you are ! how tenderly dear you have be- 
 come to all of us ! Not one of us but can close his 
 16
 
 242 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 eyes and revel in such quiet beauty as never before was 
 
 his. 
 
 '* Not a grand nature . . . 
 
 On English ground 
 You understand the letter . . . ere the fall 
 How Adam lived in a garden. All the fields 
 Are tied up fast with hedges, nosegay like ; 
 The hills are crumpled plains — the plains pastures. 
 And if you seek for any wilderness 
 You find at best a park. A nature 
 Tamed and grown domestic . . . 
 A sweet familiar nature, stealing in 
 As a dog might, or child, to touch your hand, 
 Or pluck your gown, and humbly mind you so 
 Of presence and affection." 
 
 " There is no farewell to scenes like thine." From 
 the depths of every heart in our company comes the 
 trembling " God bless you, England ! "
 
 SCOTLAND. 
 
 " Away, ye gay landscapes, ye gardens of roses ! 
 
 In you let the minions of luxury rove ; 
 Restore me the rocks where the snowflake reposes, 
 
 Though still they are sacred to freedom and love : 
 Yet, Caledonia, beloved are thy mountains, 
 
 Round their white summits though elements war ; 
 Though cataracts foam 'stead of smooth flowing fountains, 
 
 I sigh for the valley of dark Loch na Garr." 
 
 It was on Saturday, July 16th, that we went over 
 the border. The bridge across the boundary line was 
 soon reached. When midway over a halt was called, 
 and vent given to our enthusiasm. With three cheers 
 for the land of the heather, shouts of " Scotland for- 
 ever," and the waving of hats and handkerchiefs, we 
 dashed across the border. O Scotland, my own, my 
 native land, your exiled son returns with love for 
 you as ardent as ever warmed the heart of man for his 
 country. It's a God's mercy I was born a Scotchman, 
 for I do not see how I could ever have been contented 
 to be anything else. The little plucky dour deevil, set 
 in her own ways and getting them too, level-headed and 
 shrewd, with an eye to the main chance always and yet 
 so lovingly weak, so fond, so led away by song or story, 
 
 243
 
 244 Four -in- Hand in Britain. 
 
 so easily touched to fine issues, so leal, so true ! Ah ! 
 you suit me, Scotia, and proud am I that I am your 
 son. 
 
 We stopped at Gretna Green, of course, and walked 
 to the site of the famous blacksmith-shop where so 
 many romantic pairs have been duly joined in the holy 
 bonds of wedlock. A wee laddie acted as guide, and 
 from him we had our first real broad Scotch. His 
 dialect was perfect. He brought "wee Davie" to mind 
 at once. I offered him a shilling if he could " screed 
 me aff effectual calling." He knew his catechism, but 
 he could not understand it. Never mind that, Davie, 
 that is another matter. Older heads than yours have 
 bothered over that doctrine and never got to the bot- 
 tom of it. Besides there will be a " revised edition " of 
 that before you are a man. Just you let it alone ; it is 
 the understanding of that and some other dogmas of 
 poor ignorant man's invention that thin the churches of 
 men who think and " make of sweet religion a rhapsody 
 of words." "But do you ken Burns?" "Aye," said 
 Davie, " I ken ' A man's a man for a' that,' and ' Auld 
 Lang Syne.' " " Good for you, Davie, there's another 
 shilling. Good-bye ! But I say, Davie, if you can't 
 possibly remember all three of these pieces, don't let it 
 be ' A man's a man for a' that ' that you forget, for 
 Scotchmen will need to remember that one of these 
 days when we begin to set things to rights in earnest 
 and demand the same privileges for prince, peer, and
 
 Lunch at Annan. 245 
 
 peasant. Don't let it be ' Auld Lang Syne,' either, for 
 there is more of ' Peace and Good-will upon Earth,' 
 the essence of true religion, in that grand song than 
 in your effectual calling, Davie, my wee mannie. At 
 least there is one who thinks so." Davie got my ad- 
 dress, and said may be he would come to America when 
 he grew to be a man. I promised to give him a chance 
 if he had not forgotten Burns, which is all we can do in 
 the Republic, where merit is the only road to success. 
 We may make a Republican out of him yet, and have 
 him return to his fellows to preach the equality of man, 
 the sermon Scotland needs. 
 
 We lunched at Annan. It was at first decided that 
 we had better be satisfied with hotel accommodations, 
 as the day though fine was cool, with that little nip in 
 the air which gives it the bracing quality ; but after we 
 had entered the hotel the sun burst forth, and the long- 
 ing for the green fields could not be overcome. We 
 walked through the village across the river, and found a 
 pretty spot in a grove upon high ground commanding 
 extensive views up and down the stream, and there we 
 gave our new members their first luncheon. It would 
 have been a great pity had we missed this picnic, for it 
 was in every respect up to the standard. I laugh as I 
 recall the difficulties encountered in selecting the fine 
 site. The committee had fixed upon a tolerably good 
 location in a field near the river, but this knoll was in 
 sight, and we were tempted to go to it. We had gone
 
 246 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 so far from the hotel where the coach was, that Perry 
 and Joe had to get a truck to bring the hampers. I 
 remember seeing them pushing it across the bridge and 
 up against the wall over which most of us had clambered. 
 When the Queen Dowager's turn came the wall was 
 found to be rather too much for her, but our managers 
 were versatile. The truck was brought into requisition, 
 and she was safely drawn from its platform over the 
 wall. I stood back and could do nothing for laughter, 
 but the Dowager, who was not to be daunted, went over 
 amid the cheers of the party. It was resolved, however, 
 to be a little more circumspect in future ; wall-climbing 
 at seventy-one has its limits. 
 
 Here is the bridge built by that worthy man and 
 excellent representative of what is best in Scottish 
 character in lowly life, James Carlyle — an honest brig 
 destined to stand and never shame the builder. I re- 
 member how proudly Carlyle speaks of his father's 
 work. No sham about either the man or his work, as 
 little as there was in his more famous son. I wish I 
 could quote something from " Adam Bede " I think it is 
 — where Garth the stone-mason thinks good work in 
 his masonry the best prayer he had to stand upon. 
 
 Many have expressed surprise at " Carlyle's Remi- 
 niscences," at the gnarled, twisted oak they show, preju- 
 diced here, ill-tempered there. What did such people 
 expect, I wonder? A poor, reserved, proud Scotch lad, 
 who had to fight his way against the grim devils of
 
 Carlyle and Black. 247 
 
 poverty and neglect, of course he is twisted and 
 " thrawn " ; but a grand, tough oak for all that, as 
 sound, stanch timber as ever grew, and Scotch to the 
 core. Did any one take you, Thomas Carlyle, for a fine, 
 symmetrical sycamore, or a graceful clinging vine ? I 
 think the " Reminiscences," upon the whole, a valuable 
 contribution to literature. Nor has Carlyle suffered in 
 my estimation from knowing so much of what one 
 might have expected. But will these critics of a grand 
 individuality be kind enough to tell us when we shall 
 look upon his like again, or where another Jenny Car- 
 lyle is to come from ? She is splendid ! The little 
 tot who " bluided a laddie's nose " with her closed fist 
 and conquered " the bubbley jock." This was in her 
 early childhood's days, and look at her woman's work 
 for Carlyle if you want a pattern for wives, my young 
 lady friends, at least as a bachelor pictures wifehood at 
 its best. The story told of Mr. Black's meeting with 
 Carlyle should be true, if it be not. " Oh, Mr. Black," 
 exclaimed Carlyle, " I'm glad to see ye, man. I've read 
 some of yer books ; they're vera amusin' ; ye ken Scotch 
 scenery well ; but when are yer goin' to do some wark, 
 man ? " Great work did the old man do in his day, no 
 doubt ; but they also work who plant the roses, Thomas, 
 else were we little better than the beasts of the field. 
 Carlyle did not see this. Black is doing his appointed 
 work and doing it well too, and Scotland is proud of 
 her gifted son.
 
 248 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 Dumfries, July 16-17. 
 
 We were at Dumfries for Sunday. We had just got 
 housed at the hotel and sat down to dinner when we 
 heard a vehicle stop, and running to the window saw 
 our anxiously expected Parisians at the door. Hurrah! 
 welcome ! welcome ! Once more united, never to part 
 again till New York be reached ! It was a happy 
 meeting, and there was much to tell upon both sides, 
 but the coachers evidently had the better of it. The 
 extreme heat encountered in France had proved very 
 trying. The Prima Donna was tired out. She vividly 
 expressed her feelings thus, when asked how she had 
 enjoyed life since she left the Ark : " Left the Ark ! 
 I felt as if I had been poked out of it like the dove to 
 find out about the weather, and had found it rough. 
 When I lose sight of the coach again, just let me know 
 it ! " We, on our part, were very glad to get our pretty 
 little dove back, and promised that she should never be 
 sent forth from among us again. 
 
 One becomes confused at Dumfries, there is so 
 much to learn. We are upon historic ground in the 
 fullest sense, and so crowded too with notable men and 
 events. Bruce slew the Red Comyn here in the church 
 of the Minorite Friars, now no longer existing. The 
 monastery, of which it formed a part, the foundation of 
 the mother of John Baliol, King of Scotland, stood on 
 an eminence, the base of which is washed on the north 
 and west by the waters of the Nith. It is said to have
 
 Dumfries. 249 
 
 been deserted after the pollution of its high altar with 
 the blood of the Comyns, and about two centuries 
 afterward the Maxwells built a splendid castle out of 
 its ruins and almost on its site ; but the fortune of war 
 and old Father Time levelled its massive walls in turn, 
 and now no vestige remains of either monastery or 
 castle. The castle of the Comyns, too, which occupied 
 a romantic site a little way south of the town, at a 
 place still called Castledykes, has left but slight memo- 
 rials of its olden grandeur. 
 
 Among the noted men of the world whom Dumfries 
 numbers among her children are the Admirable Crichton, 
 Paul Jones, Allan Cunningham, Carlyle, Neilson of 
 the hot blast, Patterson, the founder of the Bank of 
 England, and Miller of the steamship. Still another, 
 a Scotch minister, was the founder of savings-banks. 
 While not forgetting to urge his flock to lay up treas- 
 ures in the next world, he did not fail to impress upon 
 them a like necessity of putting by a competence for 
 this one, sensible man ! How many ministers leave 
 behind them as powerful an agency for the improve- 
 ment of the masses as this Dumfries man, the Rev. Mr. 
 Duncan, has in savings-banks? All the speculative 
 opinions about the other world which man can indulge 
 in are as nothing to the acquisition of those good, 
 sober, steady habits which render possible upon the 
 part of the wage-receiving class a good deposit in that 
 minister's savings-bank. The Rev. Mr. Duncan is my
 
 350 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 kind of minister, one who works much and preaches 
 little. There is room for more of his kind. 
 
 It is to Dumfries we are also indebted for the steam- 
 ship, as far as Britain's share in that crowning triumph 
 is concerned, for, upon Dalwinston Lake, Miller used 
 the first paddles turned by steam. The great magician 
 also has waved his wand over this district. Ellangowan 
 Castle, Dirk Hatteraick's Cave, and even Old Mortality 
 himself are all of Dumfries ; and as for Burns, there is 
 more of his best work there than anywhere else, and 
 there he lies at rest with the thistle waving over him, fit 
 mourner for Scotland's greatest son, and of all others 
 the one he would have chosen. How he loved it! 
 Think of his lines about the emblem dear, written while 
 still a boy. 
 
 I v/anted to stay a week in Dumfries, and I deemed 
 myself fortunate to be able to spend Sunday there. Two 
 Dunfermline gentlemen now resident there, Messrs. R. 
 and A., were kind enough to call upon us and offer their 
 services. This was thoughtful and pleased me much. 
 Accordingly on Sunday morning we started with Mr. R. 
 and did the town, Maxwelton Braes, Burns's house, and 
 last his grave. None of us had ever been there before, 
 and we were glad to make the pilgrimage. Horace 
 Greeley (how he did worship Burns !) has truly said that 
 of the thousands who yearly visit Shakespeare's birth- 
 place, most are content to engrave their names with a 
 diamond upon the glass, but few indeed leave the rest-
 
 Home of Burns. 251 
 
 ing-place of the ploughman without dropping a tear 
 upon the grave ; for of all men he it was who nestled 
 closest to the bosom of humanity. It is true that of all 
 the children of men Burns is the best beloved. Carlyle 
 knew him well, for he said Burns was the ./Eolian harp 
 of nature against which the rude winds of adversity blew, 
 only to be transmitted in their passage into heavenly 
 music. 
 
 I think these are the two finest things that have 
 been said about our idol, or about any idol, and I be- 
 lieve them to be deserved. So did Carlyle and Greeley, 
 for they were not flatterers. Of what other human 
 being could these two things be truly said ? I know of 
 none. 
 
 Our friends, Mr. and Mrs. N., are the fortunate 
 owners of Friars Carse estate. They called upon us Sun- 
 day noon, and invited us to dine with them that evening. 
 A delegation from the party accepted, and were much 
 pleased with their visit. Friars Carse is a lovely spot. 
 The winding Nith is seen at its best from the lawn. 
 As we drove past on Monday we stopped and enjoyed 
 a morning visit to our friends, who were exceedingly 
 kind. Mr. N. has earned the grateful remembrance 
 of every true lover of Burns by restoring the heritage 
 and guarding with jealous care every vestige of one of 
 the half dozen geniuses which the world will reverence 
 more and more as the years roll by. He has wisely taken 
 out the window upon the panes of which Burns wrote
 
 252 Fonr-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 with a diamond, "Thou whom chance may hither 
 lead," one of my favorites. This is now preserved, to 
 be handed down as an heirloom in the family, finally, we 
 hope, to find its place in some public collection. While 
 we were in the mansion a granddaughter of Annie 
 Laurie actually came in. I know of no young lady 
 whose grandmother is so widely and favorably known. 
 We were all startled to be brought so near to the ideal 
 Annie Laurie of our dreams. It only shows that the 
 course of true love never runs smooth when we hear 
 that she did not marry the poetic lover. Well, may be 
 she was happier with a dull country squire. Poets are 
 not proverbially model husbands ; the better poet, the 
 worse husband, and the writer of Annie Laurie had the 
 poetic temperament pretty well developed. 
 
 " Right, Perry ! " We are off for Sanquhar, twenty- 
 eight miles away ; the day superb, with a freshness un- 
 known in the more genial South we are rapidly leaving 
 
 behind. What a pretty sight it was to see Miss N 
 
 bounding along upon her horse in the distance, an avant 
 courier leading us to a warm welcome at her beautiful 
 home ! Would I had been beside her on Habeebah ! 
 We spent an hour or two there, and then with three 
 enthusiastic cheers for " Friars Carse and a' within it," the 
 Charioteers drove off ; but long must fond recollections 
 of that estate and of the faces seen there linger in our 
 memories as among the most pleasing of our ever-mem- 
 orable journey. A home upon the Nith near Dumfries
 
 Drumlanrig Castle. 25 
 
 has many attractions indeed. Our drive to-day lay 
 along the Nith and through the Duke of Buccleugh's 
 grounds to his noble seat, Drumlanrig Castle. Here we 
 have a real castle at last ; none of your imported English 
 affairs, as tame as caged tigers. How poor and insignifi- 
 cant they all seem to such as this ! You want the 
 moors, the hills and glens, and all the flavor of feudal 
 institutions to give a castle its dignity and impress you 
 with the thoughts of by-gone days. Modern castles in 
 England built to order are only playthings, toys ; but in 
 Scotland they are real and stir the chords. You can- 
 not have in England a glen worthy of the name, with 
 its dark amber-brown, foaming, rushing torrent dashing 
 through it. We begin to feel the exhilarating influences 
 of the North as we drive on, and to understand its charm. 
 Byron says truly : 
 
 " England ! thy beauties are tame and domestic 
 
 To one who has roamed on the mountains afar. 
 Oh, for the crags that are wild and majestic ! 
 The steep frowning glories of dark Loch na Garr." 
 
 This was the feeling upon the coach to-day. My 
 eyes watered now and then and my heart beat faster as 
 the grandeur of the scenery and the influences around 
 came into play. This was my land, England only a far- 
 off connection, not one of the family. " And what do 
 you think of Scotland noo ? " was often repeated. ' The 
 grandest day yet ! " was said more than once as we drove 
 through the glen ; but this has been said so often dur-
 
 254 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 ing this wonderful expedition, and has so often been 
 succeeded by a day which appeared to excel its famous 
 predecessor, that we are careful now to emphasize the 
 yet ; for indeed we feel that there is no predicting what 
 glories Scotland may have in store for us beyond. 
 
 Our luncheon to-day was taken upon the banks 
 of the Nith; an exquisitely beautiful spot. There was 
 no repressing our jubilant spirits, and sitting there on 
 the green sward the party burst into song, and one 
 Scotch song followed another. There was a strange 
 stirring of the blood, an exaltation of soul unknown be- 
 fore. The pretty had been left behind, the sublime was 
 upon us. There was a nip in the air unfelt in the more 
 genial climate of the South. The land over which 
 brooded peace and quiet content had been left behind, 
 that of the " mountain Ind the flood " was here, whisper- 
 ing of its power, swaying us to and fro and bending us 
 to its mysterious will. In the sough of the wind comes 
 the call of the genii to mount to higher heights, that we 
 may exult in the mysteries of the mountain and the glen, 
 
 *' The steep frowning glories of dark Loch na Garr." 
 
 Even our songs had the wail of the minor key sug- 
 gesting the shadows of human life, eras of storm and 
 strife, of heroic endurance and of noble sacrifice ; the 
 struggle of an overmatched people contending for 
 generations against fearful odds and maintaining through 
 all vicissitudes a distinctively national life. That is
 
 The Camcronians. 255 
 
 what makes a Scotchman proud of this peculiar little 
 piece of earth, and stirs his blood and fills his eyes as he 
 returns to her bosom. 
 
 We rested over Monday night, July iSth, at Sanqu- 
 har, a long one-main-street village, whose little inn could 
 not accommodate us all, but the people were kind, and 
 the gentlemen of the party had no cause to complain of 
 their quarters. It was here that the minister absolved 
 the Cameronians from allegiance to " the ungodly king' 
 — a great step. Those sturdy Cameronians probably 
 knew little of Shakespeare, but I fancy the speech of 
 that rebel minister could not have been better ended, or 
 begun either, than with the outburst of Laertes to an- 
 other wicked king: 
 
 " I'll not be juggled with : 
 To hell, allegiance ! " 
 
 Bravo ! They would not be juggled with King Charles, 
 neither will their descendants be, if any king hereafter 
 is ever rash enough to try his " imperial " notions upon 
 them. That day is past, thanks to that good minister 
 and his Cameronians. I gazed upon the monument 
 erected to these worthies, and gratefully remembered 
 what the world owes to them. 
 
 We stepped into a stationer's shop there and met 
 a character. One side of the shop was filled with the 
 publications of the Bible Society, the other with drugs. 
 " A strange combination this," I remarked.
 
 256 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 " Weel, man, no sae bad. Pheseek for the body an 
 pheseek for the soul. Castor oil and Bibles no sae bad." 
 
 Harry and I laughed. 
 
 " Have you the revised edition here yet ? " I inquired. 
 
 " Na, na, the auld thing here. Nane of yer new- 
 fangled editions of the Scripture for us. But I hear 
 they've shortened the Lord's Prayer. Noo, that's na a 
 bad thing for them as hae to get up early in the mom- 
 
 in's." 
 
 He was an original, and we left his shop smiling at 
 his way of putting things. Scotland is the land of odd 
 characters. 
 
 Sanquhar, July 18. 
 
 We are off for old Cumnock, the entire village appar- 
 ently out to see the start. Sanquhar on the moors does 
 not seem to have many attractions, but last evening we 
 had one of our pleasantest walks. There is a fine deep 
 glen hid away between the hills, with a torrent rushing 
 through it, over which bridges have been thrown. We 
 were tempted to go far up the glen. The long gloam- 
 ing faded away into darkness and we had a weird stroll 
 home. It was after ten o'clock when we reached the 
 hotel. This may be taken as a specimen of our even- 
 ings ; there is always the long walk in the gloaming 
 after dinner, which may be noted as one of the rare 
 pleasures of the day. 
 
 Our luncheon to-day could not be excelled, and in
 
 School Children. 257 
 
 some features it was unique. The banks of Douglas 
 Water was the site chosen. The stream divides, and a 
 green island looked so enchanting that the committee 
 set about planning means to cross to it. The steps of 
 the coach formed a temporary bridge over which the 
 ladies were safely conducted, but not without some 
 danger of a spill. As many as thirty school children, 
 then enjoying their summer vacation, followed, and after 
 a while ventured to fraternize with us. Such a group of 
 rosy, happy little ones it would be difficult to meet with 
 out of Scotland. Children seem to flourish without 
 care in this climate. The difference between the chil- 
 dren of America and Britain is infinitely greater than 
 that between the adults of the two countries. Scotch 
 children learn to pronounce as the English do in the 
 schools, but in their play the ancient Doric comes out 
 in full force. It is all broad Scotch yet in conversation. 
 This will no doubt change in time, but it seemed to us 
 that so far they have lost very few of the Scotch words 
 and none of the accent. We asked the group to ap- 
 point one of their number to receive some money to buy 
 "sweeties" for the party. Jeannie Morrison was the 
 lassie proposed and unanimously chosen. Jeannie was 
 in the sixth standard. In answer to an inquiry, it was 
 at first said that no one else of the party was so far ad- 
 vanced, but a moment's consultation resulted in a prompt 
 correction, and then came : " Aye, Aggie McDonald is 
 too." But not one of the laddies was beyond the fifth. 
 17
 
 258 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 Well, the women of Scotland always were superior to 
 the men. If a workingman in Scotland does not get a 
 clever managing wife (they are helpmeets there), he 
 never amounts to much, and many a stupid man pulls 
 up well through the efforts of his wife. It is much the 
 same in France, or, indeed, in any country where the 
 struggle for existence is hard and expenditure has to be 
 kept down to the lowest point — so much depends upon 
 the woman in this department. 
 
 The shyness of these children surprised our Ameri- 
 cans much. They could scarcely be induced to partake 
 of cakes and jelly, which must be rare delicacies with 
 them. I created a laugh by insisting that even after I 
 had been in America several years I was as shy as any 
 of these children. My friends were apparently indisposed 
 to accept such an assertion entirely, but an appeal to 
 Davie satisfied them of my modesty in early youth. 
 " Ah, then ! " said Miss M. But this was cruel. 
 
 We left some rare morsels for these children. When 
 they had done cheering us at our departure, I warrant 
 they " were nae blate." The dear little innocent, happy 
 things ! I wish I could get among them again. What 
 would not one give to get a fresh start, to be put back 
 a child again, that he might make such a record as 
 seems possible when looking backward ! How many 
 things he would do that he did not do, how many things 
 he would not do that he did do ! I sympathize with 
 Faust, the offer was too tempting to be successfully
 
 A Pleasant Meeting. 259 
 
 withstood. One point worth noting occurs to me. In 
 looking back you never feel that upon any occasion you 
 have acted too generously, but you often regret that 
 you did not give enough, and sometimes that you did 
 not give at all. The moral seems to be — always give 
 the higher sum or do the most when in doubt. It seems 
 to me that parents and others having charge of children 
 might do more than is done to teach them the only means 
 of making life worth living, and to point out to them 
 the rocks and eddies from which they themselves have 
 suffered damage in life's passage. 
 
 With the cheers of the children ringing in our ears 
 we started on our way. While stopping at the inn to 
 return what had been lent us in the way of baskets, 
 pitchers, etc., a lady drove up in a stylish phaeton, and, 
 excusing herself for intruding, said that a coach was so 
 rarely seen in those parts she could not resist asking who 
 we were and whither bound. I gave her all desired in- 
 formation, and asked her to please gratify our ladies by 
 telling in return who she was. " Lady Stuart M." was 
 the reply. She was of the M.'s of Closeburn Castle, as 
 we learned from Mr. Murray, our landlord at Cumnock. 
 The estate will go at her death to a nephew who is farm- 
 ing in America. We thought there must be some good 
 reason why he did not return and manage for his aunt, 
 who indeed seems well qualified to manage for herself. 
 The young exiled heir had our sympathy, but long may 
 it be ere he enters upon Closeburn, for we were all heart-
 
 260 Foui'-i7i-Hand in Britain. 
 
 ily in favor of a long and happy reign to t'he present 
 ruler of that beautiful estate. Lady M. assured us that 
 we would be well taken care of at the Dumfries Arms, 
 and she was right. Mr. Murray and his handsome sisters 
 will long be remembered as model hotel-keepers. They 
 made our stay most agreeable. Mr. Murray took us to 
 the Bowling Green in the evening, and many of our 
 party saw the game for the first time. Great excitement 
 prevails when the sides are evenly matched. It is, like 
 the curling pond, a perfect republic. There is no rank 
 upon the ice or upon the green in Scotland. The post- 
 man will berate the provost for bad play at bowls, but 
 touch his hat respectfully to him on the pavement. A 
 man may be even a provost and yet not up to giving 
 them a "Yankee " when called for. We were curious to 
 know what a "Yankee" shot was, for we heard it called 
 for by the captains every now and then. We were told 
 that this was a shot which "knocked all before it, and 
 played the very deevil." That is not bad. 
 
 While a few of us who had recently seen the land of 
 Burns remained at Cumnock, the remainder of the party 
 drove to Ayr and saw all the sights there and returned 
 in the evening. Our walks about Cumnock were delight- 
 ful, and we left Mr. Murray's care with sincere regret. 
 
 Old Cumnock, July 19. 
 Passing out of the town this morning, we stopped at 
 the prettiest little photographic establishment we had
 
 Our Photograph. 261 
 
 ever seen, and the artist succeeded in taking excellent 
 views of the coach and party, as the reader may see by 
 a glance at the frontispiece, where the original negative 
 is reproduced by the artotype process. It was done in 
 an instant ; we were taken ere we were aware. A great 
 thing, that instantaneous photography ; one has not 
 time to look his very worst, as sitters usually contrive 
 to do, ladies especially. It is so hard to be artificial 
 and yet look pretty. 
 
 " Right, Perry ! " and off we drove through the crowd 
 for Douglas. The General Manager soon confided to 
 me that for the first time he was dubious about our 
 resting-place for the night. A telegram had been re- 
 ceived by him from the landlord at Douglas just before 
 starting, stating that the inn was full to overflowing 
 with officers of the volunteer regiment encamped there, 
 and that it was impossible for him to provide for our 
 party. What was to be done ? It was decided to in- 
 form that important personage, mine host, that we were 
 moving upon him, and that if he gave no quarters we 
 should give none either. He must billet us somewhere ; 
 if not, then 
 
 " A night in greenwood spent 
 Were but to-morrow's merriment." 
 
 But we felt quite sure that the town of Douglas 
 would in council assembled extend a warm welcome to 
 the Americans and see us safely housed, even if there
 
 262 
 
 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 were not a hotel in the place. So on we went. While 
 passing through Lugar, a pretty young miss ran out of 
 the telegraph office, and holding up both hands, called ; 
 " Stop ! It's no aff yet ! it's no aff yet ! " A message was 
 coming for the coaching party. It proved to be from 
 our Douglas landlord, saying, All right ! he would do 
 the best he could for us. When the party was informed 
 how much we had been trusting in Providence for the 
 past few hours, such was their enthusiasm that some dis- 
 appointment was expressed at the reassuring character 
 of the telegram. Not to know where we were going to 
 be all night — may be to have to lie in and on the coach 
 — would have been such fun ! But " Behind yon hill 
 where Lugar flows," sung by Eliza, sounded none the 
 less sweet when we knew we were not likely to have to 
 camp out upon its pretty banks. It is essential for 
 successful happy coaching with ladies that every com- 
 fort should be provided. I am satisfied it would never 
 do to risk the weaker sex coaching in any other land. 
 The extreme comfort of everything here alone keeps 
 them well and able to stand the gypsy life. 
 
 We travelled most of the day among the ore lands and 
 blast furnaces of the Scotch pig-iron kings, the Bairds. 
 To reach Edinburgh we had to drive diagonally east- 
 ward across the country, for we had gone to the west- 
 ward that Dumfries and the Land of Burns might not 
 be missed. This route took us through less frequented 
 localities, off the main lines of travel, but our experience
 
 Scotch Weather. 263 
 
 justified us in feeling that this had proved a great ad- 
 vantage, for we saw more of Scotland than we should 
 have done otherwise. 
 
 Our luncheon to-day was a novel one in some re- 
 spects. No inn was to be reached upon the moors, and 
 feed for the horses had to be taken with us from Cum- 
 nock ; but we found the prettiest little wimpling burn, 
 across which a passage was made by throwing in big 
 stones, for the shady dell was upon the far side. The 
 horses were unhitched and allowed to nibble the way- 
 side grass beside our big coach, which loomed up on the 
 moor as if it were double its true size. 
 
 The thistle and the harebell begin to deck our grassy 
 tables at noon, and fine fields of peas and beans scent 
 the air. All is Scotch ; and oh, that bracing breeze, 
 which cools deliciously the sun's bright rays, confirms 
 us in the opinion that no weather is like Scotch weather, 
 when it is good ; when it is not I have no doubt the 
 same opinion is equally correct, but we have no means 
 of judging. Scotland smiles upon her guests, and we 
 love her with true devotion in return. "What do you 
 think of Scotland noo ? " came often to-day ; but words 
 cannot express what we do think of her. In the lan- 
 guage of one of our young ladies, " She is just lovely ! " 
 
 The question came up to-day at luncheon, would one 
 ever tire of this gypsy life? and it was unanimously 
 voted never! At least no one could venture to name a 
 time when he would be ready to return to the prosy rou-
 
 264 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 tine of ordinary existence while blessed with such weather 
 and such company. Indeed, this nomadic life must be 
 the hardest of all to exchange for city life. It is so dia- 
 metrically opposed to it in every phase. " If I were not 
 the independent gentleman I am," says Lamb, " I 
 should choose to be a beggar." " Chapsey me a gypsy," 
 gentle Elia, you could not have known of that life, or 
 perhaps you considered it and the beggar's life identical. 
 But, mark you, there is a difference which is much more 
 than a distinction. A gypsy cannot beg, but he or she 
 tells fortunes, tinkers a little and deals in horses. Even 
 if he steals a little now and then, I take it he is still within 
 the lines of the profession ; while your beggar who does 
 anything in the way of work, or who steals, is no true 
 man. His license is for begging only. The gypsy ob- 
 viously has the wider range, and I say again, therefore, 
 " Chapsey me a gypsy," gentle Elia. 
 
 Davie and I walked over to the railway line after 
 luncheon to have a talk with the surfacemen we saw at 
 work. They were strong, stalwart men, and possessed 
 of that shrewd, solid sense which is invariably found in 
 Scotch workmen. Their pay seemed very small to us; 
 the foreman got only twenty shillings per week ($5), 
 while the ordinary surfaceman got fourteen shillings 
 ($3.50). Although this was only a single-track branch 
 line, it was almost as well laid as the Pennsylvania Rail- 
 road. None of the men had ever been in America, 
 but several had relatives there who were doing well,
 
 Home Castle. 265 
 
 and they looked forward to trying the new land some 
 day. 
 
 We reached pretty Douglas in the evening, and 
 sounded our horn longer than usual to apprize mine host 
 that the host was upon him. We were greatly pleased 
 to see him and his good wife standing in the door of the 
 inn with pleasant, smiling faces to greet us. They had 
 arranged everything for our comfort. Many thanks to 
 those gentlemanly officers who had so kindly given up 
 their rooms to accommodate their American cousins. 
 Quarters for the gentlemen had been found in the vil- 
 lage, and Joe and Perry and the horses were all well 
 taken care of. Thus we successfully passed through 
 the only occasion where there seemed to be the slightest 
 difficulty about our resting-place for the night. 
 
 Douglas, the ancient seat of that family so noted 
 in Scotland's history, is really worth a visit. Home 
 Castle, their residence, is a commanding pile seen for 
 many miles up the valley as we approach the town. 
 Our visit to it was greatly enjoyed, we had such a 
 pretty walk in the evening, and a rest on the slope 
 of the hill overlooking the castle. We lay there in 
 the grass and enjoyed the quiet Scotch gloaming 
 which was gathering round us, and so silently, so slowly 
 shutting in the scene. The castle upon the left below 
 us, the Douglas water so placidly gliding through the 
 valley at our feet, the old church where lay moulder- 
 ing generations of the Douglases, and the dark woods
 
 266 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 beyond, formed a picture which kept us long upon 
 the hill. 
 
 In their day, what bustling men were these doughty 
 Douglases — full of sturt and strife — the very ideal repre- 
 sentatives of the warrior bold, who made their way and 
 held their own by the strength of their good right arms. 
 
 " A steede, a steede of matchless speede, 
 A sword of metal keene, 
 All else to noble minds is dross, 
 All else on earth is meane ; 
 And O the thundering press of knights, 
 When loud their war cries swell, 
 Might serve to call a saint from heaven 
 Or rouse a fiend from helle." 
 
 This was their ideal — the very reverse, thank God, of the 
 ideal of to-day — but note how peacefully they lie now 
 in the little antiquated church in this obscure valley. 
 What shadows we are ! What shadows we pursue ! This 
 vein once started in the Scotch gloaming upon the hills, 
 where the coloring of the scene is so sombre as to be not 
 only seen but felt, must be indulged in sparingly, or some 
 of the Charioteers might soon have to record a new ex- 
 perience — a fit of the blues. But this was prevented by 
 comparing the advance made by the race upon this 
 question of war within the past century. The " pro- 
 fession of arms " is very soon to be rated as it deserves. 
 The apology for it will be the same as for any other 
 of the butchering trades — it is necessary. Granted for
 
 Epitaphs. 267 
 
 the present, but what of the nature which selects such 
 a profession ! 
 
 The inscriptions upon the tombs of the Douglases re- 
 called other epitaphs ; some one said of all the inscrip- 
 tions yet seen, he thought that upon the tomb of the 
 Duke of Devonshire gave us the best lesson. 
 
 It runs thus: 
 
 " Who lyeth heare ? 
 Ye gude Yearle of Devenshere — 
 What he had is gone, 
 What he kept is lost, 
 What he gave — that he hath." 
 
 We were on the verge of moralizing. Some one 
 scenting the danger, said he thought an equally sugges- 
 tive epitaph headed one of the chapters of " David El- 
 ginbrod " : 
 
 " Here lies David Elginbrod, 
 Hae mercy on his soul, oh God ! 
 As he'd a-had, had he been God, 
 An ye'd been David Elginbrod." 
 
 Yes, there is food for thought here too. David must 
 have been a queer one. 
 
 The sky grew darker, and the far-off woods faded into 
 a cloud upon the horizon ; the party rose, and in so do- 
 ing regained their usual hilarity — forgot all about tombs 
 and were off for a run hand-in-hand down the gentle 
 slope to the valley, shouting and laughing in great glee — 
 and so on over the pretty bridge to their delightful inn.
 
 268 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 Douglas, July 20. 
 Edinburgh, Scotia's darling seat, only forty-four miles 
 distant. All aboard, this pretty morning, for Edin- 
 burgh ! " Right, Perry !" and off we went quite early 
 through Douglas, for the capital. Our path was 
 through woods for several miles, and we listened to 
 the birds and saw and heard many of the incidents of 
 morn so prettily described by Beattie : 
 
 " The wild brook babbling down the mountain-side, 
 The lowing herd ; the sheep-fold's simple bell ; 
 The hum of bees, and linnet's lay of love, 
 And the full choir that wakes the universal grove." 
 
 It was to be a long day's drive, but an easy one ; 
 only one hill, and then a gradual descent all the way 
 to Edinburgh. So it might have been by the other 
 road, but the mile-stones which told us so many miles 
 to Edinburgh should also have said : " Take the new 
 road ; this is the old one, over the hills and far away." 
 But they did not, and we could not be wrong, for 
 this was a way, if not the way, to " Auld Reekie." 
 After all, it was one of the richest of our experiences 
 as we look back upon it now. So many hills to walk 
 up and so many to walk down ; so many moors with 
 not a house to be seen, nothing but sheep around us 
 and the lights and shadows of a Scotch sky overhead. 
 But it was grand, and recalled some of Black's wonder- 
 ful pen pictures. And then we enjoyed the heather 
 which we found in its beauty, though scarcely yet
 
 Sheep mid Collies. 269 
 
 tinted with its richest glow of color. This was our 
 introduction to it. The heathery moor was new to 
 most of the party and many were the exclamations pro- 
 duced by its beauty. There's " meat and drink " to a 
 Scotchman in the scent of the heather. 
 
 About luncheon time we began to look longingly 
 for the expected inn, but there was no habitation 
 to be seen, and we became suspicious that, notwith- 
 standing the mile-stones, which stood up and told us the 
 lie which was half the truth (ever the blacker lie), we 
 were not upon the right road to Edinburgh. At this 
 juncture we met a shepherd with his collies, and learnt 
 from him that we were still twelve miles from an inn. 
 It was a cool, breezy day ; the air had the " nip " in it 
 which Maggie missed so in England, and we were fam- 
 ishing. There was nothing else to do but to stop where 
 we were, at the pretty burn, and tarry there for enter- 
 tainment for man and beast. 
 
 As proof of our temperance, please note that the 
 flasks filled with sherry, whiskey, and brandy, at Brigh- 
 ton, I believe, as reserve forces for emergencies, still had 
 plenty in them when called for to-day ; and rarely has a 
 glass of spirits done greater good, the ladies as well as 
 we of the stronger sex feeling that a glass was necessary 
 to keep off a chill. We were " o'er the moors among the 
 heather " in good earnest to-day, but how soon we were 
 all set to rights and laughing over our frolic ! The shep- 
 herd and his dogs lunched with us, and many a glint of
 
 270 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 Scottish shepherd life did we get from his conversation. 
 He was a happy, contented man, and ever so grateful 
 that he was not condemned to live in a city. He 
 thought such a cramped-up life would soon kill him. 
 
 Good-bye, my gentle shepherd and " Tweed " and 
 " Rab," your faithful, sagacious companions. Your life 
 leads to contentment, and where will you find that jewel 
 when you leave mother earth and her products, her 
 heather and her burns, your doggies and your sheep ? 
 
 Davie, in Andrew M *s absence, sang us that 
 
 song whose prettiest verse, though all are fine, is this : 
 
 " See yonder paukie shepherd 
 Wha lingers on the hill, 
 His ewes are in the fauld 
 And his sheep are lying still." 
 
 Softly, softly, pianissimo, my boy! These lines 
 must be sung so, not loudly like the other verses. 
 Andrew knows the touch. 
 
 " But he downa gang to rest, 
 For his heart is in a flame 
 To meet his bonnie lassie, 
 When the kye come hame." 
 
 And so we parted from our shepherd, the chorus of 
 our song reaching him over the moors till he faded out 
 of sight. I am sure we wish him week Happiness is 
 not all in the higher walks of life ; and surely in vir- 
 tue's paths the cottage leaves the palace far behind.
 
 Arthur s Seat. 271 
 
 Another song followed, which I thought equally ap- 
 propriate, for it tells us that " Ilka blade o' grass keps 
 its ain drap o' dew." Ah, the shepherd's drops of the 
 dew of life are often what princes vainly sigh for. 
 
 After many miles up and down, we finally reached 
 the top of the hill from which we saw lying before us, 
 fourteen miles away, the modern Athens. There was 
 no mistaking Arthur's Seat, the lion crouching there. 
 " Stop, Perry ! " Three times three for the " Queen of 
 the Unconquered North!" "What do you think of 
 Scotland noo ? " Match that city who can ! Not on 
 this planet will you do it, search where you may. 
 
 It was only a few miles from where we now stood 
 that Fitz Eustace, enraptured with the scene, 
 
 " And making demi-volte in air, 
 Cried, Where's the coward that would not dare 
 To fight for such a land ! " 
 
 Fight for it ? I guess so, to the death ! Scotland 
 forever ! 
 
 We were about completing one stage of our journey, 
 for Edinburgh had been looked forward to as one of the 
 principal points we had to reach, and we were to rest 
 there a few days before marching upon the more ancient 
 metropolis, Dunfermline. Most of us had been steadily 
 at work since we left Brighton, and the prospect of a 
 few days' respite was an agreeable one ; but after all it 
 was surprising how fresh even the ladies were. Still,
 
 272 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 steady coaching is pretty hard work ; none of us gained 
 weight during the journey, but we all felt as if in con- 
 dition just fit to do our very best in the way of athletic 
 exercise. 
 
 Miss R , a native of Edinburgh, was here called 
 
 to the front, alongside of Perry, to act as guide into and 
 through the city to our hotel in Prince's Street. The 
 enthusiasm grew more and more intense as we came 
 nearer and fresh views were obtained. There remained 
 one more toll-gate, one of the few which have not yet 
 been abolished. Joe had as usual gone forward to pay 
 the toll, but the keeper declared she did not know the 
 charge, as never since she kept toll had anything like 
 that — pointing to the coach — passed there. Was it any 
 wonder that we attracted attention during our progress 
 northward ? 
 
 From one hill-top I caught sight of the sparkling 
 Forth, beyond which lay " the dearest spot on earth to 
 me." The town could not be seen, but when I was able 
 to cry, " Dunfermline lies there," three rousing cheers 
 were given for the " Auld gray Toon," my native city. 
 
 Edinburgh, July 21-26. 
 Our route lay through Newington, that we might 
 leave the young artist at home. We tried to do it 
 quietly, but our friend Mrs. H. was out and shaking 
 hands with us ere we could drive off. Mr. MacGregor, of 
 the Royal, had been mindful of us ; a grand sitting room
 
 Edinburgh, 273 
 
 fronting on Prince's Street and overlooking the gardens 
 gave us the best possible view, the very choice spot of 
 all this choice city. The night was beautiful, and the 
 lights from the towering houses of the old town made 
 an illumination, as it were, in honor of our arrival. That 
 the travellers were delighted with Edinburgh, that it 
 more than fulfilled all expectations, is to say but little ; 
 and those who saw it for the first time felt it to be be- 
 yond all that they had imagined. Those of us who 
 knew its picturesque charms were more than ever im- 
 pressed with its superiority over all other cities. Take 
 my word for it, my readers, there is no habitation of 
 human beings in this world as fine in its way, and its 
 way itself is fine, as this, the capital of Scotland. 
 
 The surprise and delight of my friends gave me much 
 pleasure. Scotland had already won all hearts. They 
 had admired England, but Scotland they loved. Ah, 
 how could they help it ! I loved her too, more deeply 
 than ever. 
 
 It is best to disband a large party when in a city 
 possessed of many and varied attractions, allowing each 
 little group to see the sights in its own way ; assembling, 
 however, at breakfast and dinner, and spending the even- 
 ings together, recounting the day's adventures. This 
 was the general order issued for Edinburgh. 
 
 The new docks at Leith were opened with much cer- 
 emony during our stay, and I took a party of our Edin- 
 burgh friends upon the coach to witness the opening. It
 
 274 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 was not a clear day, meteorologically considered, but 
 nevertheless it was a happy one for the coaching party. 
 Upon our return, a stop at Mr. N.'s magnificent resi- 
 dence was specially agreeable. He and his daughters 
 were most kind to us while in Edinburgh. Mr. N. gave 
 us a rare treat by showing us through their immense 
 printing establishment, where such exquisite things are 
 done, such Easter and Christmas cards, such friendship 
 tokens, and a thousand other lovely forms we had never 
 seen before, in their various stages of manufacture. 
 
 I asked Mr. N. what he had to say in reply to the 
 admissions of the leading art authorities of the superior- 
 ity of American work in black and white, such as our 
 magazines excel in. He said this could not be ques- 
 tioned ; there was nothing done in British publications 
 that equalled the American. The reason he gave fur- 
 nishes food for thought. I pray you, fellow country- 
 men, take note of it. Two principal American illus- 
 trated magazines, Harper s and the Century, print each 
 more than one hundred thousand copies, while no Brit- 
 ish magazine prints half that number. The American 
 publisher can consequently afford to pay twice as much 
 as the British publisher for his illustrations. If this be 
 the true reason of America's superiority in this respect, 
 and I am sure Mr. N. knows what he is stating, then as 
 its population increases more rapidly than the British 
 the difference between their respective publications must 
 increase, and finally drive the home article into a very
 
 Valuable Importations. 275 
 
 restricted position. Pursuing this fact to its logical con- 
 clusion, Britain may soon receive from her giant child 
 all that is best in any department of art which depends 
 upon general support for success. This seems to me to 
 betoken a revolution, not as implying the inherent supe- 
 riority of the American, but simply flowing from the fact 
 that fifty-five millions of English-speaking and reading 
 people can afford to spend more for any certain article 
 than thirty-five millions can. That Colonel Mapleson 
 now brings over Her Majesty's Opera Company for the 
 New York season as regularly as he opens his London 
 season, and especially that he makes far more profit out 
 of the former than out of the latter, is another significant 
 fact. That leading actors find a wider field here than at 
 home is still another, and even ministers are finding that 
 the call of the Lord to higher labors and higher salaries 
 often comes from the far side of the Atlantic. Drs. 
 McCosh, Hall, Ormiston, and Taylor, our leading divines, 
 get treble salaries in the Republic, and are said to be 
 valuable importations. As Mr. Evarts said one night in 
 a post-prandial effort : " They are about the only speci- 
 mens of 'the cloth' admitted duty free." As long as 
 America sent Britain only pork and cheese and provi- 
 sions, and such products of the soil, it was all well 
 enough, but if she is beginning to send the highest 
 things of life, the art treasures, which give sweetness 
 and light to human existence, it is somewhat alarming. 
 For my part, I do not like to think that these Ameri-
 
 276 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 cans are to send Britain every good thing, and that the 
 once proud country that led the world is to stand receiv- 
 ing as it were the crumbs from this rich land's table. In 
 one department America can be kept second for as long 
 a term as we need worry about — she has nothing to 
 compare with the leading English reviews. Our gen- 
 eration will see no close rival to the Fortnightly or the 
 Nineteenth Century, to Blackwood or Chambers Journal, 
 or to the Edinburgh or Westminster Review ; although 
 the North American and the International show that 
 even in this race America enters two not indifferent 
 steeds. 
 
 I must not forget to mention that the birds in the 
 Century magazine which the Athenceum pronounced so 
 far superior to any British work were designed by a 
 young lady and engraved by her sister. The work of 
 two American young ladies excelled the best of Eng- 
 land ; and then did not Miss Rosina Emmet send a 
 Christmas greeting of her own composition to friends in 
 England which took the second prize at the London 
 Exhibition, although not intended for anything more 
 than a private token of friendship. Let a note be made 
 of all this, with three loving cheers for the young lady 
 artists of the Republic. Instead of losing the charms 
 of women by giving public expression to their love of 
 the beautiful in all its forms, they but add one more in- 
 describable charm which their less fortunate sisters can 
 never hope to attain. How a man does reverence a
 
 On a Yacht. 277 
 
 woman who does fine things in art, literature, or music, 
 or in any line whatever ! 
 
 The Charioteers gave leave of absence to the Scribe 
 and General Manager to spend Sunday with my friends 
 Mr. and Mrs. G., at Strathairly House, on the banks of 
 the Forth. It was a most delightful visit. The Com- 
 modore of the Forth Yachting Squadron (for such Mr. 
 G. is) had the Ranee ready to take us back to Edin- 
 burgh Monday morning. We enjoyed the sail down 
 the Forth very much. That we could not accept the 
 Commodore's invitation to change the Gay Char- 
 ioteers into Bold Mariners for a day and visit St. 
 Andrews in the Ranee gave rise to deep regret, when 
 the other members of the party were informed of the 
 treat proposed ; but we cannot glean every field upon 
 our march. Some other time, Commodore, the recently 
 elected member of the squadron will report for duty on 
 the flagship and splice the main brace with you and 
 your jolly crew. There is a craze for yachting in Brit- 
 ain, which is also showing its symptoms on this side. I 
 am not at home in vessels much smaller than an Atlantic 
 steamer. The Charioteers resolved unanimously that 
 their yacht should have four wheels and four horses, and 
 should run on land. 
 
 Upon our return to Edinburgh Monday morning, 
 the first rumbling of the distant thunder from Dunferm- 
 line was heard, and it dawned upon us that serious work 
 was at hand. Our friend Mr. D., of the Council, had
 
 278 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 called upon us and intimated that something of a 
 demonstration might be made upon our arrival in my 
 native town ; but when I found a telegram from Mr. 
 Simpson, the clerk, asking us to postpone our coming 
 for a day, I knew there was an end to play. Things 
 looked serious, but I was not going to be the sole suf- 
 ferer. At dinner I laid it down as the law from which 
 there could be no appeal, that if any public speaking 
 were to be done, Messrs. P., McC, K., the General 
 Manager, and V., were in for it. It is surprising 
 how much it mitigates one's own troubles to see his 
 dearest friends more frightened than himself. I grew 
 bolder as I encouraged these victims. Their speeches 
 were bound to be hits — no speeches have so often cre- 
 ated sensations as maiden efforts. The last two offered 
 great inducements to the ladies if they would vote that 
 they should be excused. As for the others, I made it a 
 question of ministerial confidence, and the administra- 
 tion was sustained. If you read their speeches I am 
 sure you will see the wisdom of my selections. 
 
 I was glad to see Sir Noel Paton, Dunfermline's most 
 distinguished son, able to be at his sister's that evening. 
 The recent narrow and heroic escape from drowning of 
 himself, Lady Paton, and his son Victor, gave us all 
 renewed interest in grasping his hand again. Thrown 
 from a small sail-boat into the sea, at least two hundred 
 yards from shore, with ropes and sail tangled about 
 them, the three rallied to each other's support (for all
 
 Dunfermline. 2 79 
 
 could swim), and bore each other up until finally Lady 
 Paton got between her husband and son, with one hand 
 on the shoulder of each, and thus they struggled grandly 
 to shore. Where is another trio that could do that, 
 think you ? I tell you, who don't know Dunfermline, 
 that these Patons were always a marked family, and 
 have had genius hovering about their pretty home for 
 generations, and now and then touching the heads and 
 hearts of father, sons, and daughters with its creative 
 wand. There is a great deal in blood, no doubt, but the 
 blood from an honest weaver or shoemaker is, as a rule, 
 a much better article, something to be much prouder of, 
 than you find from nobles whose rise came from such 
 conduct as should make their descendants ashamed to 
 talk of descent. It's a God's mercy we are all from 
 honest weavers ; let us pity those who haven't ancestors 
 of whom they can be proud, dukes or duchesses though 
 they be. 
 
 Dunfermline, July 27-28. 
 Put all the fifty days of our journey together, and 
 we would have exchanged them all for rainy ones if we 
 could have been assured a bright day for this occasion. 
 It came, a magnificent day. The sun shone forth as if 
 glad to shine upon this the most memorable day of my 
 mother's life or of mine, as far as days can be rendered 
 memorable by the actions of our fellow-men. We left 
 Edinburgh and reached Queensferry in time for the noon
 
 280 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 boat. Here was the scene so finely given in " Marmion," 
 which I tried, however, in vain to recall as I gazed upon 
 it. If Dunfermline and its thunders had not been in the 
 distance, I think I could have given it after a fashion, 
 but I failed altogether that morning. 
 
 " But northward far, with purer blaze, 
 On Ochil mountains fell the rays, 
 And as each heathy top they kissed, 
 It gleamed a purple amethyst. 
 Yonder the shores of Fife you saw, 
 Here Preston Bay, and Berwick Law ; 
 And broad between them rolled, 
 The gallant Firth the eye might note, 
 Whose islands on its bosom float. 
 Like emeralds chased in gold." 
 
 And truly it was a morning in which nature's jewels 
 sparkled at their best. Upon reaching the north shore 
 we were warmly greeted by Uncle and Aunt, and Maggie 
 and Annie. It was decided better not to risk luncheon 
 in the ruins of Rosythe Castle, as we had intended, the 
 grass being reported damp from recent rains. We ac- 
 cordingly drove to the inn, but we were met at the door 
 by the good landlady, who, with uplifted hands, ex- 
 claimed : " I'm a' alane! There's naebody in the house ! 
 They're a' awa' to Dunfermline ! There'll be great goings 
 on there the day." 
 
 A hotel without one servant. The good woman, 
 however, assured us we might come in and help our-
 
 A Trying Ordeal. 281 
 
 selves to anything in the house ; so we managed to en- 
 joy our luncheon, though some of us only after a fashion. 
 There were three gentlemen, a wife, and a cousin, who 
 for the first time did not care much for anything in the 
 form of luncheon. Speeches, speeches, these are what 
 troubled Harry, Davie and me; and I had cause for 
 grave alarm, of which they could form little idea, for I 
 felt that if Dunfermline had been touched and her 
 people had determined to give us a public reception, 
 there was no saying to what lengths they might go. 
 
 If I could decently have stolen away and gone 
 round by some circuitous route, sending my fellow 
 townsmen an apology, and telling them that I really felt 
 myself unable to undergo the ordeal, I should have been 
 tempted to do so. I was also afraid that the Queen 
 Dowager would break down, for if ever her big black 
 eyes get wet it's all over with her. How fortunate it 
 was that Mrs. H. was with her to keep her right ! It 
 was wisely resolved that she should take her inside of 
 the coach and watch over her. I bit my lip, told the 
 Charioteers they were in for it and must go through 
 without flinching, that now the crisis had come I was 
 just bound to stand anything. I was past stage-fright, 
 and I assured myself that they could do their worst — I 
 was callous and would not be moved — but to play the 
 part of a popular hero even for a day, wondering all the 
 time what you have done to deserve the outburst, is 
 fearful work. When I did get time to think of it, my
 
 282 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 tower of strength lay in the knowledge that the spark 
 which had set fire to their hearts was the Queen Dowa- 
 ger's return and her share in the day's proceedings. 
 Grand woman, she has deserved all that was done in her 
 honor even on that day. 
 
 A man stopped us at the junction of the roads to 
 inform us that we were expected to pass through the 
 ancient borough of Innerkeithing ; but I forgot myself 
 there. It seemed a fair chance to escape part of the 
 excitement (we had not yet begun the campaign as it 
 were) ; at all events I dodged to escape the first fire, as 
 raw troops are always said to do, and so we took the 
 direct road. When the top of the Ferry Hills was 
 reached we saw the town, all as dead as if the holy Sab- 
 bath lay upon it, without one evidence of life. How 
 beautiful is Dunfermline seen from the Ferry Hills, its 
 grand old abbey towering over all, seeming to hallow 
 the city and to lend a charm and dignity to the lowliest 
 tenement. Nor is there in all broad Scotland, nor in 
 many places elsewhere, that I know of, a more varied 
 and delightful view than that obtained from the park 
 upon a fine day. What Benares is to the Hindoo, 
 Mecca to the Mohammedan, Jerusalem to the Chris- 
 tian, all that Dunfermline is to me. 
 
 But here I must stop. If you want to learn how 
 impulsive and enthusiastic the Scotch are when once 
 aroused, how dark and stern and true is the North, and 
 yet how fervid and overwhelming in its love when the
 
 The Free Library. 283 
 
 blood is up, I do not know where you will find a better 
 evidence of it than in what followed. See how a small 
 spark kindled so great a flame. The Queen Dowager 
 and I are still somewhat shamefaced about it, but some- 
 how or other we managed to go through with our parts 
 without breaking down. 
 
 The Queen Dowager had been chosen to lay the 
 Memorial Stone of the Free Library, and the enthusi- 
 asm of the people was aroused by her approach. There 
 was something of the fairy tale in the fact that she had 
 left her native town, poor, thirty odd years before, with 
 her loved ones, to found a new home in the great Re- 
 public, and was to-day returning in her coach, to be al- 
 lowed the privilege of linking her name with the annals 
 of her beloved native town in one of the most enduring 
 forms possible ; for whatever agencies for good may 
 rise or fall in the future, it seems certain that the Free 
 Library is destined to stand and become a never-ceasing 
 foundation of good to all the inhabitants. Well, the 
 future historian of that ancient town will record that on 
 this day, under bright sunshine, and amidst the plau- 
 dits of assembled thousands, the Queen Dowager laid 
 the Memorial Stone of the building, an honor, com- 
 pared with which, I was charged to tell the citizens, 
 in the Queen Dowager's estimation, Queen Victoria 
 has nothing in her power to bestow. So say also the 
 sons of the Queen Dowager. The ceremonies passed 
 off triumphantly. The procession, workingmen and
 
 284 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 address, banquet, and all the rest of it may be sum- 
 med up in the remark of the Dunfermline press : " The 
 demonstration may be said to be unparalleled in the 
 history of Dunfermline." 
 
 I will not be tempted to say anything further about 
 this unexpected upheaval except this: after we had 
 stopped and saluted the Stars and Stripes, displayed 
 upon the Abbey Tower in graceful compliment to my 
 American friends (no foreign flag ever floated there 
 
 before, said our friend, Mr. R , keeper of the ruins), 
 
 we passed through the archway to the Bartizan, and at 
 this moment came the shock of all that day to me. I 
 was standing on the front seat of the coach with Pro- 
 vost Walls when I heard the first toll of the abbey bell. 
 My knees sank from under me, the tears came rushing 
 before I knew it, and I turned round to tell the Provost 
 that I must give in. For a moment I felt as if I were 
 about to faint. Fortunately I saw that there was no 
 crowd before us for a little distance. I had time to re- 
 gain control, and biting my lips till they actually bled, 
 I murmured to myself, " No matter, keep cool, you 
 must go on ; " but never can there come to my ears on 
 earth, nor enter so deep into my soul, a sound that 
 shall haunt and subdue me with its sweet, gracious, 
 melting power like that. 
 
 By that curfew bell I had been laid in my little 
 couch to sleep the sleep of childish innocence. Father 
 and mother, sometimes the one, sometimes the other,
 
 The Abbey Bell. 285 
 
 had told me, as they bent lovingly over me night after 
 night, what that bell said as it tolled. Many good 
 words has that bell spoken to me through their trans- 
 lations. No wrong thing did I do through the day 
 which that voice from all I knew of heaven and the 
 great Father there did not tell me kindly about ere I 
 sank to sleep, speaking the very words so plainly that I 
 knew that the power that moved it had seen all and was 
 not angry, never angry, never, but so very, very sorry. 
 Nor is that bell dumb to me to-day when I hear its 
 voice. It still has its message, and now it sounded to 
 welcome back the exiled mother and son under its pre- 
 cious care again. 
 
 The world has not within its power to devise, much 
 less to bestow upon us, such a reward as that which the 
 abbey bell gave when it tolled in our honor. But my 
 brother Tom should have been there also ; this was the 
 thought that came. He, too, was beginning to know 
 the wonders of that bell ere we were away to the newer 
 land. 
 
 Rousseau wished to die to the strains of sweet music. 
 Could I choose my accompaniment, I could wish to pass 
 into the dim beyond with the tolling of the abbey bell 
 sounding in my ears, telling me of the race that had been 
 run, and calling me, as it had called the little white- 
 haired child, for the last time — to sleep. 
 
 We spent two days in Dunfermline. The tourist 
 who runs over from Edinburgh will find the Abbey and
 
 2S6 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 the Palace ruins well worthy a visit. Take a day and 
 see them, is my advice. Queen Margaret, King Robert 
 the Bruce, and many other Kings and Queens are in- 
 terred in the Abbey, for this was the capital of Scotland 
 long ere Edinburgh rose to importance. Who does not 
 remember the famous ballad of Sir Patrick Spens : 
 
 " The King sits in Dunfermline toon, 
 Drinking the bluid red wine ; 
 Oh where will I get a skelly skipper 
 To sail this ship of mine." 
 
 Dunfermline is now the principal seat of the damask 
 manufacture. Americans will be interested in knowing 
 that at least two-thirds of all the table linen made in 
 the eleven factories here are for republican use. While 
 we were there the rage was for designs showing the 
 American race-horse Iroquois leading all the fleet steeds 
 of England; now it is said to be for " Jumbo " patterns. 
 
 A visit to one of the leading factories cannot fail to be 
 interesting to the sight-seer, and to such as may go I sug- 
 gest that a good look be taken at the stalwart lassies and 
 good-looking young women who work there. Several 
 thousand of them marched in the procession formed to 
 greet us at the city line, and their comely appearance 
 and the good taste shown in their dress surprised the 
 coaching party very agreeably. Indeed, our Poetaster 
 improvised a verse which illustrates the change which 
 has come over the ancient capital since the days of Sir 
 Patrick Spens, and gave it to us as we rolled along :
 
 The New Kings. 287 
 
 " The old Kings sat in Dunfermline town, 
 Drinking the blood red wine ; 
 The new Kings are at better work, 
 Weaving the damask fine." 
 
 Quite correct, Davie. Does not Holy Writ declare 
 that the diligent man shall stand before Kings ? And 
 is it not time that the bibulous King should give place 
 to the useful citizen — the world over ! 
 
 Friday was a cloudy day, but some of our friends, 
 who spent the early morning with us and saw us off, 
 unanimously predicted that it would clear. They 
 proved true weather prophets, for it did turn out to be 
 a bright day. Passing the residence of Colonel Myers, 
 the American Consul, we drove in and gave that repre- 
 sentative of the great Republic and his wife three fare- 
 well cheers. 
 
 Kinross, Friday, July 28. 
 Kinross was the lunching-place. Mother was for the 
 first and last time compelled to seek the inside for a few 
 hours after leaving Dunfermline. These farewells from 
 those near and dear to you are among the crudest 
 ordeals one has to undergo in life. One of the most 
 desirable arrangements held out to us in all that is said 
 of heaven is to my mind that there shall be no parting 
 there. Hell might be invested with a new horror by 
 having them daily,
 
 288 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 We had time while at Kinross to walk along Loch 
 Leven and see the ruined castle upon the island, from 
 which Douglas rescued Queen Mary. What a question 
 this of Mary Queen of Scots is in Scotland ! To intimate 
 a doubt that she was not purity itself suffices to stir up 
 a warm discussion. Long after a " point of divinity " 
 ceases to be the best bone to snarl over, this Queen 
 Mary question will probably still serve the purpose. 
 What matters it what she was ? It is now a case of 
 beauty in distress, and we cannot help sympathizing 
 with a gentle, refined woman (even if her refinement 
 was French veneering), surrounded by rude, coarse men. 
 What is the use of " argie bargieing " about it ? Still, 
 I suppose, we must have a bone of some kind, and this 
 is certainly a more sensible one than the " point of 
 divinity," which happily is going somewhat out of 
 fashion. 
 
 To-day's talk on the coach was all of the demonstra- 
 tion at Dunfermline, and one after another incident was 
 
 recalled. Bailie W was determined we should learn 
 
 what real Scotch gooseberries are, and had put on the 
 coach an immense basketful of them. " We never can 
 dispose of so many," was the verdict at Kinross ; at 
 Perth it was modified, and ere Pitlochrie was reached 
 the verdict was reversed and more wished for. Our 
 American friends had never known gooseberries before, 
 friend Bailie, so they said. 
 
 Fair Perth was to be our resting-place, but before
 
 The Carse of Gowrie. 289 
 
 arriving there the pedestrians of the party had one of 
 their grandest excursions, walking through beautiful 
 Glen Farg. They were overpowered at every turn by 
 its loveliness, and declared that there is nothing like it 
 out of Scotland. The ferns and the wild flowers, in all 
 their dewy freshness after the rains, made us all young 
 again, and the glen echoed our laughter and our songs. 
 The outlet from the glen into the rich Carse of Gowrie 
 gave us another surprise worthy of record. There is 
 nothing, I think, either in Britain or America, that is 
 equal in cultivation to the famous Carse of Gowrie. 
 They will be clever agriculturists who teach the farmers 
 of the Carse how to increase very greatly the harvest of 
 that portion of our good mother earth. Davie began to 
 see how it is that Scotland grows crops that England 
 cannot rival. Perthshire is a very beautiful county, 
 neither Highland nor Lowland, but occupying, as it 
 were, the golden mean between, and possessed of many 
 of the advantages of both. 
 
 Perth, Saturday, July 29. 
 The view from the hill-top overlooking Perth is 
 superb. " Fair Perth indeed ! " we all exclaim. The 
 winding Tay, with one large sail-boat gliding on its 
 waters, the fertile plains beyond, and the bold crag at 
 the base of which the river sweeps down, arrested the 
 attention of our happy pedestrians and kept them long 
 upon the hill. I had never seen Perth before, and it was 
 19
 
 290 Four -in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 a surprise to me to find its situation so very fine ; but 
 then we are all more and more surprised at what Scot- 
 land has to show when thoroughly examined. The finer 
 view from the hill of Kinnoul should be seen, if one 
 would know of what Scotland has to boast. 
 
 Antiquaries refer the foundation of Perth to the 
 Roman Agricola, who saw in its hills another Rome, and 
 in its river another Tiber. 
 
 « ' Behold the Tiber! ' the vain Roman cried, 
 Viewing the ample Tay from Baiglie's side; 
 But where's the Scot that would the vaunt repay, 
 And hail the puny Tiber for the Tay ? " 
 
 But Agricola, poor fellow, was probably homesick, and 
 felt much like the expatriated Scot who tries to imagine 
 himself on his native heath when eating his annual 
 haggis at St. Andrew's dinner in New York. 
 
 From the days of Kenneth McAlpine down to the 
 times of James I., Perth was the capital of Scotland, and 
 witnessed the coronation of all her kings. Every Scot 
 knows the story of James I. — how he hid from the as- 
 sassins in the Dominican Convent, how fair Catherine 
 Douglas thrust her arm through the socket of the bolt 
 and held the door against them until her bones were 
 brutally crushed, and how the fugitive was finally dragged 
 from his place of concealment by 
 
 " Robert Grahame 
 That slew our king, 
 God give him shame ! "
 
 Fair Perth. 291 
 
 The old Abbey of Scone, the place of coronation, is 
 about two and a half miles from the town, but little re- 
 mains of it now besides its name and its associations. 
 The ancient mound is there, but the sacred stone on 
 which the monarchs stood when crowned was carried 
 away by Edward I., and is now in Westminster Abbey, 
 an object of interest to all true Scotsmen. In those 
 royal days — rude and rough days they were too, viewed 
 through modern spectacles — Perth was the centre to- 
 ward which most of the clansmen looked, and almost 
 every available hill in its vicinity was crowned by a cas- 
 tle, the stronghold of some powerful chieftain. Of 
 course these autocrats were often at feud with each 
 other, and frequently even with the magistrates of the 
 town. In the latter case, if not strong enough to beard 
 the lion in his den, they would waylay provision 
 trains or vessels carrying necessaries to the city, and 
 then the citizens would rise in their wrath and sally 
 forth with sword and buckler and burn a castle or two. 
 But quarrels with the towns-people did not pay in the 
 long run, and their brands were oftener turned against 
 each other. 
 
 It is a sad commentary on the morals of the day 
 that these neighborly feuds were rather fostered 
 than checked by the authorities, who thought to win 
 safety for themselves out of this brotherly throat- 
 cutting. Sometimes the king set a score or two of 
 them by the ears in the outskirts of the town for the
 
 292 Four-in- Hand in Britain. 
 
 court's amusement, just as bears and bandogs were 
 pitted against each other in those godless days. Every- 
 body has read in the " Fair Maid of Perth " the graphic 
 account of one of these savage battles between thirty 
 picked men of the Clan Quhele and as many of the 
 Clan Chattan, on the North Inch of the city — that beau- 
 tiful meadow in which Agricola saw a striking resem- 
 blance to the Campus Martius. The story is historically 
 true, the battle having actually taken place in the reign 
 of Robert III., who had in vain tried to reduce the 
 rivals to order. As a last resort it was suggested that 
 each should select his champions and fight it out in the 
 presence of the king, it being shrewdly hoped that the 
 peace of the community would be secured through the 
 slaughter of the best men of both sides. The place 
 chosen was prepared by surrounding it with a trench 
 and by erecting galleries for spectators, for the brutal 
 combat was witnessed by the king and his court and by 
 many English and French knights, attracted thither by 
 the novelty of the spectacle. The contestants, armed 
 with their native weapons — bows and arrows, swords 
 and targets, short knives and battle axes — entered the 
 lists, and at the royal signal butchered each other until 
 victory declared in favor of Clan Chattan, the only sur- 
 vivor of its opponents having swam the river and es- 
 caped to the woods. The few left of the conquering 
 party were so chopped and carved and lopped of limbs 
 that they could be no longer regarded as either use-
 
 Villas on the Tay. 293 
 
 ful or ornamental members of society — and thus good 
 king Robert's sagacity in pitting these turbulent fellows 
 against each other was apparently justified. 
 
 Before starting to-day we had time to stroll along 
 the Tay for an hour or two. We were especially at- 
 tracted by a volunteer regiment under drill upon the 
 green, and were gratified to see that the men looked 
 remarkably well under close inspection, as indeed did all 
 the militia and volunteers we saw. The nation cannot 
 be wrong in accounting these forces most valuable aux 
 iliaries in case of need. I have no doubt but in the 
 course of one short campaign they would equal regular 
 troops ; at least such was the experience in the Ameri- 
 can war. The men we saw were certainly superior to 
 regulars as men. It is in a war of defence, when one's 
 own country is to be fought for, that bayonets which 
 can think are wanted. With such a question at issue, 
 these Scotchmen would rout any regular troops in the 
 world who opposed them for pay. As for miserable 
 skirmishes against poor half-armed savages, I hope these 
 men would think enough to despise the bad use they 
 were put to. 
 
 The villas we saw upon the opposite bank of the 
 Tay looked very pretty — nice home-like places, with 
 their gardens and boat-houses. We voted fair Perth 
 very fair indeed. After luncheon, which was taken in 
 the hotel at Dunkeld, we left our horses to rest and 
 made an excursion of a few miles to the falls, to the
 
 294 Four -in- Hand in Britain. 
 
 place in the Vale of Athol where Millais made the sketch 
 for his celebrated picture called " O'er the hills and far 
 awa'." It is a grand view, and lighted as it then was by- 
 glimpses of sunshine through dark masses of cloud, giv- 
 ing many of the rainbow tints upon the heather, it is 
 sure to remain long with us. For thirty miles stretch 
 the vast possessions of the Duke of Athol ; over moun- 
 tain, strath, and glen he is monarch of all the eye can 
 see — a noble heritage. A recent storm is said to have 
 uprooted seventy thousand of his trees in a single 
 night. 
 
 The scenery in the neighborhood of Dunkeld is very 
 beautiful. The description of the poet Gray, who 
 visited it in 1766, will do as well to-day. "The road 
 came to the brow of a deep descent ; and between two 
 woods of oak we saw, far below us, the Tay come 
 sweeping along at the bottom of a precipice at least a 
 hundred and fifty feet deep, clear as glass, full to the 
 brim, and very rapid in its course. It seemed to issue 
 out of woods thick and tall that rose on either hand, 
 and were overhung by broken rocky crags of vast 
 height. Above them, to the west, the tops of higher 
 mountains appeared, on which the evening clouds re- 
 posed. Down by the side of the river, under the thick- 
 est shades, is seated the town of Dunkeld. In the midst 
 of it stands a ruined cathedral ; the tower and shell of 
 the building still entire. A little beyond it a large 
 house of the Duke of Athole, with its offices and
 
 * Dimkeld Cathedral. 295 
 
 gardens, extends a mile beyond the town : and, as his 
 grounds are intersected by the streets and roads, he has 
 flung arches of communication across them, that add 
 much to the scenery of the place." 
 
 The cathedral, still a noble ruin, stands a little apart 
 from the town, in a grove of fine old trees. It owes its 
 destruction to the Puritans, who sacked it in the six- 
 teenth century, though the order " to purge the kyrk 
 of all kinds of monuments of idolatrye " was directed 
 only against images and altars. But the zeal of men in 
 those days of bigotry was hard to control, and the mob 
 did not desist from its work while a door remained on 
 its hinges or a window was unbroken. Since then 
 tower, nave, and aisles have remained open to sun and 
 storm ; the choir alone has been refitted and is now 
 used as the parish church. In the choir is still to be 
 seen the tomb and recumbent statue of the famous 
 Earl of Buchan, better known as the Wolf of Badenoch. 
 
 The coachman who drove us to-day interested us by 
 his knowledge of men and things — such a character as 
 could hardly grow except on the heather. He " did 
 not think muckle o' one man owning thirty miles 
 o' land who had done nothing for it." His reply to a 
 question was given with such a pawkie expression that it 
 remains fixed in the memory. " Why do not the people 
 just meet and resolve that they will no longer have 
 kings, princes, dukes or lords, and declare that all men 
 are born equal, as we have done in America?"
 
 296 Four -in- Hand in Britain. 
 
 " Aye, maan, it would hae to be a strong meeting 
 that ! " 
 
 That strong was so very strong ; but there will be one 
 strong enough some day, for all that. We cannot stand 
 nonsense forever, patient as we are and slow. 
 
 Dunkeld is the gateway of the Highlands, and we 
 enter it, singing as we pass upward : 
 
 " There are hills beyond Pentland 
 And streams beyond Forth ; 
 If there are lords in the south 
 There are chiefs in the north." 
 
 We are among the real hills at last. Yonder towers 
 Birnam, and here Dunsinane Hill. Mighty master, 
 even here is your shade, and we dwell again in your 
 shadow. The very air breathes of Macbeth, and the 
 murdered Banquo still haunts the glen. How perfectly 
 Shakespeare flings into two words the slow gathering 
 darkness of night in this northern latitude, among the 
 
 deep green pines : 
 
 " Ere the bat hath flown 
 His cloister'd flight ; ere, to black Hecate's summons, 
 The shard-borne beetle, with his drowsy hum, 
 Hath rung night's yawning peal, there shall be done 
 
 A deed of dreadful note 
 
 . . . . Light thickens ; and the crow 
 Makes wing to the rooky wood : 
 Good things of day begin to droop and drowse ; 
 Whiles night's black agents to their prey do rouse."
 
 Birnam Wood. 297 
 
 That man shut his eyes and imagined more than 
 other men could see with their eyes wide open even 
 when among the scenes depicted. The light does 
 " thicken," and the darkness creeps upon us and wraps 
 us in its mantle unawares. 
 
 Birnam, a wooded hill on the bank of the Tay, is 
 about twelve miles from Dunsinane or Dunsinnane Hill, 
 the traditional stronghold of Macbeth the Giant, as the 
 usurper was known to the country people. According 
 to the common story, when Macbeth heard from his 
 spies of the coming of Malcolm Canmore's troops from 
 Birnam with branches in their hands, he recalled the 
 prophecy of the witches, and, despairing of holding the 
 castle against them, deserted it and fled, pursued by 
 Malcolm, up the opposite hill, where finding it impossible 
 to escape, he threw himself from a precipice and was 
 killed on the rocks below. His place of burial is still 
 shown at a spot called Lang Man's Grave, not far from 
 the road where Banquo is said to have been murdered. 
 
 Some Shakesperean scholars have thought that the 
 great bard must have collected the materials for his 
 tragedy upon the site. It is well known that Her 
 Majesty's Players exhibited at Perth in 1589, and it is 
 not impossible that Shakespeare may have been among 
 them ; but it is scarcely probable. The play follows 
 very closely the history of Macbeth as narrated by 
 Hollinshed, in which the usurper falls in single combat 
 with Macduff, and there can be little doubt that Shakes-
 
 298 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 peare derived his facts from the chronicle rather than 
 from personal investigation. 
 
 It is very evident, however, that Dunsinane was an- 
 ciently a strong military post. The hill, which rises 
 about eight hundred feet above its base, is steep and 
 difficult of access on all sides but one, where are traces 
 of a winding road cut into the rock. Its flat summit was 
 once defended by a strong rampart, which, judging from 
 its remains, must have been of considerable height and 
 thickness. The area enclosed by it is more than two 
 hundred feet long. 
 
 PlTLOCHRIE, July 3O-3I. 
 
 This is a great resort in the Highlands ; and deserv- 
 edly so, for excursions can be made in every direction 
 to famous spots, embracing some of the finest scenery 
 in Scotland. About three miles north of it rises Ben 
 Vracky, and within easy distances are Glen Tilt, Bruar 
 Water, the Pass of Killicrankie, Loch Tummel, the 
 Falls of Tummel, and other places well worthy of a 
 visit ; but as the Gay Charioteers' time was limited they 
 could pay their respects to only a few of them. 
 
 We visited the hydropathic establishment in the 
 evening, and found something resembling an American 
 hotel. Such establishments are numerous in England 
 and Scotland. Few of the guests take the cold-water 
 treatment, as I had supposed, but visit the hotels more 
 for sake of a change, to make acquaintances, and to
 
 Falls of Tummel. 299 
 
 " have a good time," as we say. I have no doubt that 
 a month of Pitlochrie air is highly beneficial for almost 
 any one. 
 
 We walked to the falls of Tummel, and spent some 
 happy hours there. Cousin Eliza is up in Scotch songs, 
 and I start her every now and then. It has a charm of 
 its own to sit on the banks of the very stream, with 
 Athol near, and listen to the inquiry finely sung : 
 
 " Cam ye by Athol, 
 Lad wi' the philibeg, 
 Down by the Tummel 
 And banks of the Garry ? " 
 
 Through these very glens the mountaineers came 
 
 rushing, 
 
 " And with the ocean's mighty swing 
 When heaving to the tempest's wing 
 They hurled them on the foe." 
 
 There is a new meaning to the song when Davie 
 pours it forth in the glen itself : 
 
 "Sweet the lavrock's note and lang, 
 Lilting wildly up the glen, 
 But aye to me it sings ae sang, 
 Will ye no come back again ? " 
 
 What a chorus we gave him ! There are some days 
 in which we live more than twenty-four hours ; and 
 these days in Scottish glens count for more than a week 
 of ordinary life. We are in the region of gamekeepers
 
 300 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 and dogs. It is the last day of July, and the whole 
 country is preparing for the annual massacre of the 12th 
 of August. Is civilization so very far advanced when 
 the titled and wealthiest portions of cultured society 
 have still for their chief amusements — which are in many 
 cases with them the principal business of life — the rac- 
 ing of horses one half of the year, and the murdering of 
 poor half-domesticated birds or the chasing to death of 
 poor foxes and hares the other half ? Can civilized man 
 find nothing better to furnish needful recreation after 
 useful toil ? 
 
 The prices paid for a deer forest in Scotland are in- 
 credible. Twenty-five to fifty thousand dollars per 
 annum for the right to shoot over a few thousand acres 
 of poorly timbered land, and a force of gamekeepers 
 and other attendants to pay for besides. 
 
 For the present the British are what is called a sport- 
 ing people, and the Highlands are their favorite hunting- 
 grounds. Their ideas of sport are curious. General 
 Sheridan told me that, when abroad, he was invited to 
 try some of their sport, but when he saw the poor 
 animals driven to him, and that all he had to do was to 
 bang away, he returned the gun to the attendant. He 
 really could not do this thing, and the General is not 
 very squeamish either. As for hunting down a poor 
 hare — that needs the deadening influence of custom — 
 women ought to be ashamed of it now ; men will be 
 anon.
 
 Pass of Killiecrankie. 301 
 
 The first of all our glens is the Pass of Killiecran- 
 kie, that famous defile which gave its name to the 
 battle that proved so fatal to the Stuarts, for the 
 victory won there by the adherents of the so-called 
 James VII. , was more than counterbalanced by the loss 
 of Claverhouse. The pass is a narrow, ragged break 
 through the mountains, giving a passage to the River 
 Garry, and forming the only practicable entrance from 
 the low country to the Highlands above. It is now 
 accessible by a broad, smooth highway as well as by 
 the railway, but at the time of the battle the only road 
 through it was a rough path between the swirling river 
 and the rocks, and so steep and narrow that but two men 
 could march abreast. Along this path the royal forces 
 under McKay slowly made their way ; and though the 
 pass is only about a mile and a half long it was after- 
 noon before the little army of three thousand debouched 
 into the plain at its extremity, and took position on the 
 high ground beyond. Do you see that eminence a mile 
 away yonder, on the north, whose sides slope down into 
 the plain? It was from that height that the High- 
 landers — McLeans, McDonalds, Camerons, Lochiel, 
 Dundee and all — came down like a torrent upon King 
 William's men below. The red sun was just above the 
 western hills. With fearful yells the tide of ragged, 
 barefooted mountaineers (Macaulay says that Lochiel 
 took off before the battle what was probably the only 
 pair of shoes in the clans) swept on, undismayed by the
 
 302 Four-m-Hand in Britain. 
 
 volleys of musketry that decimated them as they ran. 
 Plaids and haversacks were thrown away, and dropping 
 their fusils as they fired them, they were upon the 
 astonished Southrons before they had time to screw on 
 their bayonets. The fight was over in a few minutes. 
 More than a thousand men went down under the strokes 
 of the dreaded claymores and Lochaber axes, and away 
 went King William's men in a panic down the valley 
 with the clans at their heels. The victory was a de- 
 cisive one, but Claverhouse, who had insisted, against 
 the remonstrances of Lochiel and others, upon leading 
 in the charge, was fatally wounded by a bullet early in 
 the action. Up yonder on the right is Urrard House, 
 where he was carried to die. With this brave, unscrupu- 
 lous leader, passed away the last hope of the Stuarts of 
 winning their " own again." When King William heard 
 of the defeat and of Dundee's death, he said, " Well, 
 were it not so, Dundee would have been at my gates to 
 tell it himself." 
 
 We walked through the pass on our way northward, 
 and concluded that we had thus far seen nothing quite 
 so wild. The cliffs rise precipitously on each side, 
 clothed here and there with patches of oak and birch. 
 The dark, amber-brown rushing torrent is superb, swirl- 
 ing among the rocks, down which it has poured through 
 eons of time, wearing them into strange forms. The 
 very streams are Scotch, with a character all their own, 
 portraying the stern features of the race, torn and
 
 Pitlochrie to Dalwhinnie. 303 
 
 twisted by endless ages of struggle with the rocks 
 which impeded their passage, triumphantly clearing 
 their pathway to the sea at last by unceasing, persistent 
 endeavor. The sides of Scotia's glens are a never-failing 
 source of delight, the wild flowers and the ferns seem so 
 much more delicately fine than they are anywhere else. 
 One understands how they affected Burns. 
 
 Some of our ladies, the Queen Dowager always for 
 one, will delay the coach any time to range the 
 sides of the glen ; and it is with great difficulty that 
 we can get them together to mount once more. The 
 horn sounds again and again, and still they linger ; and 
 when they at last emerge from the copse, it is with 
 handfuls or rather armfuls of Nature's smiles — lapfuls 
 of wild flowers — each one rejoicing in her trophies, 
 happy as the day is long, only it is not half long enough. 
 Go the sun down never so late it sinks to its rest too 
 soon. 
 
 Dalwhinnie, August I. 
 Our drive from Pitlochrie to Dalwhinnie, thirty-two 
 miles, was from beginning to end unsurpassed — moun- 
 tain and moor, forest and glen. The celebrated falls 
 of Bruar lay in our route, and we spent two hours walk- 
 ing up the glen to see them. Well were we repaid. This 
 is decided to be the finest, most varied fall of all we have 
 seen. The amber torrent works and squirms itself 
 through caldrons there, and gorges here, and dashes over
 
 304 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 precipices yonder, revealing new beauties and giving us 
 fresh delights at every step. No gentle kiss gives this 
 Scotch fiend to every sedge it overtaketh in its pil- 
 grimage, for in truth, dashing and splashing against the 
 rocks, the surging, boiling water, with its crest of spark- 
 ling foam, seems a live spirit escaping from the glen 
 and bounding to the sea, pursued by angry demons 
 behind. Standing on the bridge across the Bruar, one 
 need not be entirely off his balance to sympathize 
 to some extent with the wild wish of my young lady 
 friend, who thought if she had to be anything dead 
 she would be a plunging, mad stream like this, danc- 
 ing among the rocks, snatching to its breast, as it 
 passed, the bluebell and the forget-me-not, the broom 
 and the fox-glove, leaping over precipices and tossing 
 its gay head in sparkling rainbow sprays forever and 
 ever. 
 
 It was while gazing at this fall that Burns wrote the 
 petition of Bruar Water. The shade asked for has been 
 restored — " Clanalpine's pines, in battle brave," now fill 
 the glen, and the falls of the Bruar sing their grateful 
 thanks to the bard who loved them. 
 
 I have often reminded you, good readers, that the 
 coaching party, with a few exceptions, hailed with de- 
 light every opportunity for a walk. Contrary to ex- 
 pectation, these came much less frequently in Scotland 
 than in England. Far away up among the towering 
 hills, where the roads necessarily follow the streams
 
 Bruar Water. 305 
 
 which have pushed themselves through the narrow de- 
 files, we get miles and miles in the glens along the ever- 
 changing streams ; but it is too level for pedestrianism 
 unless we reduce the pace of the coach and walk the 
 horses. It is after a two hours' climb up the glen to see 
 such a waterfall as the Bruar that we return to the coach, 
 feeling, as we mount to our seats, that we have done our 
 duty. We were many miles from our lunching site, and 
 long ere it was reached we were overtaken by the moun- 
 tain hunger. When we arrived at the house on the 
 moors where entertainment had been promised us, it was 
 to find that it had been rented for the season for a shoot- 
 ing-box by a party of English gentlemen, who were to 
 arrive in a few days for their annual sport — the slaughter 
 of the carefully preserved birds. The people, however, 
 were very kind, and gave us the use of the house. Few 
 midday halts gave rise to more gayety than this, but 
 there is one item to be here recorded which is peculiar 
 to this luncheon. For the first and only time the stew- 
 ardess had to confess that her supplies were exhausted. 
 Due allowance, she thought, had been made for the ef- 
 fects of Highland air, but the climb to Bruar, " or the 
 brunt of the weather," had produced an unusual demand. 
 The very last morsel was eaten, and there seemed a fla- 
 vor of hesitancy in the assurance some of us gave her 
 that we wished for nothing more. There was not even 
 one bite left for the beautiful collies we saw there. 
 
 Has the amount and depth of affection which a woman 
 20
 
 306 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 can waste on a collie dog ever been justly fathomed ? was 
 a question raised to-day ; but our ladies declined to enter- 
 tain it at all unless "waste" was changed to "bestow." 
 The amendment was accepted. Many stories were told 
 of these wonderful pets, and what their mistresses had 
 done for them. My story was a true one. Miss Nettie 
 having to go abroad had to leave her collie in some one's 
 care. Many eligible parties had been thoughtfully can- 
 vassed, when I suggested that, as I had given her the 
 dog, it might be perfectly safe to leave him with me, or 
 rather with John and the horses. A grave shake of the 
 head, and then, " I have thought of that, but have given 
 it up. It would never do. Trust requires a woman s 
 care" Not a smile, all as grave as if her pet had been a 
 delicate child. " You are quite right," I replied ; " no 
 doubt he would have a dog's life of it at the stable." 
 She said yes, mournfully, and never suspected a joke. 
 In a stable in New York I once saw a doctor's card 
 nailed up. Inquiry revealed that this gave the coach- 
 man the address of the physician who was to be called 
 in case the lady's dog should be taken ill during her 
 absence. If the ladies must go wild over some kind of 
 a dog, let it be a collie. I like them myself a little. 
 
 It was gloaming ere we reached Loch Ericht, twelve 
 hundred and fifty feet above the sea. What a wild, sol- 
 itary country it is around us ! The lake lies as it were 
 in the lap of the mountains. It is easy to believe that 
 this was a famous Highland stronghold in the olden
 
 In the Highlands. 307 
 
 time. Even Cromwell's Ironsides met with a rude 
 check in its savage glens from the men of Athol. Do 
 you see rugged Ben Alder yonder, the highest of the 
 group that looks down into the still waters of the lake ? 
 In its recesses is the cave where Prince Charlie was 
 hidden by Cluny Macpherson. 
 
 The gathering of the night shadows warn us that we 
 must seek shelter, and in a few minutes we are housed 
 in the queer little inn at Dalwhinnie. A bright fire was 
 made, and we were as gay as larks at dinner. I am sure 
 nothing could surprise Americans more than the dinners 
 and meals generally which were given us even in such 
 out-of-the-way stations as this. Everything is good, 
 well-cooked, and nicely served. It is astonishing what 
 a good dinner and a glass of genuine old claret does for 
 a party after such a long day's drive and a climb. 
 
 Reassembling after dinner in our neat little parlor, 
 the Stars and Stripes displayed as usual over the mantel, 
 we were all as fresh and bright as if we had newly risen, 
 and were in for a frolic. The incidents of the day gave 
 us plenty to talk about — the falls, the glen, that moun- 
 tain blue, the lake, and oh ! that first dazzling glint of 
 purple heather upon the high rock in the glen which 
 drew forth such exclamations ! A little patch it was 
 which, having caught more of the sunshine there than 
 that upon the moors, had burst before it into the purple, 
 and given to the most of us for the first time ample 
 proof of the rich, glorious beauty of that famous plant.
 
 308 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 What says Annie's song ? 
 
 " I can calmly gaze o'er the flowery lea, 
 I can tentless muse o'er the summer sea ; 
 But a nameless rapture my bosom fills 
 As I gaze on the face of the heather hill." 
 
 Aye, Annie, the " nameless rapture " swells in the 
 bosom of every Scotchman worthy of the name, when 
 he treads the heather. 
 
 Andrew M.'s prize song, " The Emigrant's Lament, 
 has the power of a flower to symbolize the things that 
 tug hardest at the heart-strings very strongly drawn^ 
 By the way, let it here be recorded, this is a Dunfermline 
 song, written by Mr. Gilfillan — three cheers for Dun- 
 fermline ! (that always brings the thunder, aye, and 
 something of the lightning too). The Scotchman who 
 left the land where his forefathers sleep sings : 
 
 " The palm-tree waveth high, and fair the myrtle springs, 
 And to the Indian maid the bulbul sweetly sings ; 
 But I dinna see the broom wi' its tassels on the lea, 
 Nor hear the Unties sang o' my ain countrie." 
 
 There it is, neither palm-tree nor myrtle, poinsetta 
 nor Victoria Regia, nor all that luscious nature has to 
 boast in the dazzling lands of the south, all put together, 
 will ever make good to that woe-begone, desolate, 
 charred heart the lack of that wee yellow bush o' broom 
 — never ! Nor will all " the drowsy syrups of the East," 
 quiet the ache of that sad breast which carries within it
 
 Scotland's Flowers. 309 
 
 the doom of exile from the scenes and friends of youth. 
 They cannot agree, in these days, where a man's soul is, 
 much less where it is going ; let search be made for it 
 close, very close, to the roots of that ache. It is not 
 far away from the centre which colors the stream of 
 man's life. 
 
 Many times to-day, in the exhilaration of the 
 moment, one or another enthusiastic member called 
 out, " What do ye think o' Scotland noo ? " and even 
 Emma had to confess in a half-whisper that England 
 was nothing to this. Perry and Joe had never been 
 beyond the border before, and gave in their adhesion 
 to the verdict — there is no place like Scotland. " Right, 
 Perry ! " 
 
 We have never seen that paragon of grace, the 
 Scottish bluebell, in its glory till now. It is not to be 
 judged in gardens, for it is not in its element there ; but 
 steal upon it in the glen and see how it goes to your 
 heart. Truly I think the Scotch are the best lovers of 
 flowers, make the most of them, and draw more from 
 them than any other people do. This is a good sign, 
 and may be adduced as another proof that the race has 
 a tender, weak spot in the heart to relieve the hard 
 level head with which the world credits them. 
 
 Whew! Thermometer 53 during the night, the 
 coldest weather experienced during our journey. But 
 how invigorating ! Ten years knocked off from the age 
 of every one of us since we got among the hills, except-
 
 310 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 ing from that of several of the ladies, who could hardly 
 spare so much and still be as charming. 
 
 We were stirring early this morning, in for a walk 
 across the moors, with the glorious hills surrounding us. 
 A grand walk it was too, and the echoes of the horn 
 from the coach overtaking us came all too soon upon 
 us. Looking back down the valley of Loch Ericht, 
 we had the ideal Highland view — mountains every, 
 where fading into blue in the distance, green to their 
 tops except when capped with snow, and bare, not a 
 tree nor a shrub to break their baldness, and the lake 
 lying peacefully among them at the foot of the vale. 
 These towering masses 
 
 " Seem to stand to sentinel Enchanted Land." 
 
 I am at a loss for any scenery elsewhere with which 
 to compare that of the Highlands. The bluish tinge 
 above, the rich purple tint below, the thick and thin 
 marled, cloudy sky with its small rifts of clear blue, 
 through which alone the sun glints to relieve the dark 
 shadows by narrow dazzling lights — these give this 
 scenery a weird and solemn grandeur unknown else- 
 where ; at least I have seen nothing like it. During my 
 strolls at night amid such scenes, I have always felt 
 nearer to the awful mysteries than ever before. The 
 glowering bare masses of mountain, the deep still lake 
 sleeping among them, the sough of the wind through
 
 Ruthven Castle. 3 1 1 
 
 the glen, not one trace of man to be seen, no wonder it 
 makes one eerie, and you feel as if 
 
 " Nature had made a pause, 
 An awful pause, prophetic of its end." 
 
 Memory must have much to do with this eerie feel- 
 ing upon such occasions, I take it, for every scrap of 
 Scottish poetry and song bearing upon the Highlands 
 comes rushing back to me. There are whispering 
 sounds in the glen : 
 
 '* Shades of the dead, have I not heard your voices 
 Rise on the night-rolling breath of the gale ? 
 Surely the soul of the hero rejoices 
 
 And rides on the wind o'er his own Highland vale." 
 
 I hear the lament of Ossian in the sough of the 
 passing wind. 
 
 We stopped at the inn at Kingussie, one of the cen- 
 tres of sporting interest, but drove on beyond to spread 
 our luncheon upon the banks of the Spey, close to the 
 remains of Ruthven Castle, a fine ruin in this beautiful 
 valley. We walked to it after luncheon. It was here 
 that the Highland clans assembled after the defeat at 
 Flodden Field and resolved to disband, and the country 
 was rid of the Stuarts forever. How far the world has 
 travelled since those days ! The best king or family of 
 kings in the world is not worth one drop of an honest 
 man's blood. If the House of Commons should decide 
 to-day that the Prince of Wales is not a fit and proper
 
 312 Four-in-Hand in Britain, 
 
 figure-head and should vote that my Lord Tom Noddy 
 is, there is not a sane man in the realm who would move 
 a finger for the rightful heir; yet our forefathers thought 
 it a religious duty to plunge their country into civil war 
 to restore the Stuarts, 
 
 " A coward race to honor lost ; 
 Who knew them best despised them most." 
 
 But I suppose they were about a fair average of royal 
 races. " Life can be lived well even in a palace," sings 
 Matthew Arnold, and the more credit to such as do 
 live it well there, like Queen Victoria, but it is difficult 
 work and needs a saint to begin with. It does one good 
 to mark such progress. I will not believe that man goes 
 round in a circle as the earth does ; upon the king ab- 
 surdity he has travelled a straight line. When we made 
 kings by act of Parliament (as the Guelphs were made), 
 another lesson was learned, that Parliament can unmake 
 them too. That is one bloody circle we need never 
 travel again. Not one drop of blood for all the royal 
 families in Christendom. Carried, nem. con. 
 
 There was a discussion to-day upon the best mode of 
 enjoying life. Sydney Smith's famous secret was men- 
 tioned. When asked why he was always so bright and 
 cheerful, he replied : The secret is " I take short views 
 of things." Somehow this is the Scriptural idea, " Suf- 
 ficient unto the day is the evil thereof." A good story 
 was told of an old man who had endured many of the
 
 Honeysuckle and Roses. 3 1 3 
 
 ills of life in his long journey. His friends upon one 
 occasion, more trying than usual, condoled with him, say- 
 ing that he really had more troubles than other men. 
 "Yes, my friends, that is too true. I have been sur- 
 rounded by troubles all my life long, but there is a 
 curious thing about them — nine-tenths of them never 
 happened." 
 
 " That is a story with a moral for you. How many of 
 our troubles ever happened ! We dream of ten for 
 every one that comes. One of the Charioteers was 
 ready with a verse to enforce the moral : 
 
 " When fortune with a smiling face 
 
 Strews roses on our way, 
 "When shall we stop to pick them up ? 
 
 To-day, my love, to-day. 
 But should she frown with face of care, 
 
 And speak of coming sorrow, 
 When shall we grieve, if grieve we must ? 
 
 To-morrow, love, to-morrow." 
 
 This was received with evident approval, and just as 
 it ended the huge beds of honeysuckle lying on the 
 hedge-rows we were passing, and the wild roses rising 
 above them on long graceful sprays, nodding their 
 heads as if desirous of doing us obeisance, caused one 
 of the ladies to cry out, " Oh, here are the roses on our 
 way just now ! Do let us stop and pluck them to-day, 
 as the poet advises." "Stop, Perry!" Right, sir!" 
 " Steps, Joey ! " " Right, sir ! " — and down we are in a 
 moment gathering the spoils. " Do let the coach drive
 
 314 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 on and wait for us at the top of the next hill." " But 
 wait, ladies, let us all put our flowers inside and arrange 
 them when we stop for luncheon." 
 
 It is a superb morning, the hedge-rows prettier than 
 ever ; the larks are rising ; now and then a hare darts 
 across the road in advance. The whirr of the partridge 
 or pheasant stirs the sportsman's blood, and upon every 
 tree some feathered songster pours forth his song. 
 Faust need not have sold himself to the devil for youth, 
 after all. We find it here in this glorious gypsy life. 
 
 Upon remounting the coach after an hour's frolic in 
 the lane, some one wanted the reciter to repeat the 
 verse which had caused the stop, but he said there 
 was a second verse which also had its moral, and, if 
 permitted, he would give this instead. Agreed to, 
 provided he would give the ladies a copy of both verses 
 for their books — one copy for the lot, and this each 
 would copy for herself. His terms, however, were that 
 
 he should repeat it alone to Miss and teach it to 
 
 her (sly dog), and she could make the copies. He then 
 gave us the second verse : 
 
 " If those who've wronged us own their faults 
 
 And kindly pity pray, 
 When shall we listen and forgive ? 
 
 To-day, my love, to-day. 
 But if stern justice urge rebuke 
 
 And warmth from memory borrow, 
 When shall we chide, if chide we must ? 
 
 To-morrow, love, to-morrow."
 
 Good Philosophy. 3 1 5 
 
 This was voted a fit companion for the first verse, 
 so the Charioteers to-day had two moral lessons. 
 
 The student said it was also good philosophy, and 
 taught by no less an authority than Herbert Spencer 
 himself, who had exposed the folly of postponing pres- 
 ent enjoyments in the hope that they will be better 
 if enjoyed at a later date. Here are the words of the 
 sage : 
 
 " Hence has resulted the belief that, irrespective of 
 their kinds, the pleasures of the present must be sacri- 
 ficed to the pleasures of the future. So ignorant is this 
 belief, that it is wrong to seek immediate enjoyments 
 and right to seek remote ones only, that you may hear 
 from a busy man who has been on a pleasure excur- 
 sion a kind of apology for his conduct. He depre- 
 cates the unfavorable judgments of his friends by ex- 
 plaining that the state of his health had compelled 
 him to take a holiday, nevertheless if you sound him 
 with respect to his future, you will find out his ambi- 
 tion is by and by to retire and devote himself wholly 
 to the relaxation which he is now somewhat ashamed 
 of taking. The current conception further errs by im- 
 plying that a gratification which forms a proper aim if 
 it is remote, forms an improper aim if it is proximate." 
 
 And this from the "Data of Ethics." So that 
 the poet and the philosopher are as one. 
 
 " Does Herbert Spencer write so clearly and simply 
 as that upon such subjects?" asked one of the young
 
 316 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 ladies. " I though he was so fearfully deep. His 
 books sound so very learned and obtuse, I have only 
 read his work on ' Education ' ; that was splendid, and I 
 understood it all, every word. If that book you just 
 quoted from had an easy name I'd go to work at it — but 
 'Data of Ethics' frightens me. I don't know exactly 
 what Data means, and I'm mixed on Ethics." 
 
 The voice of the Coach was clear upon " Education," 
 however, and I recall just now the remark of my little 
 nephew to his mother, when Mr. Spencer did us the 
 honor of visiting us: " Mamma, I want to see the man 
 who wrote in a book that there is no use studying 
 grammar." Amid the thousands of very grateful ones 
 who feel what they owe to Herbert Spencer, may be 
 safely classed that young scion of our family. His grat- 
 itude is profound, and with good reason. 
 
 Boat o' Garten was to be our refuge, a small, lovely 
 inn on the moors, the landlady of which had telegraphed 
 us in a rather equivocal way in response to our request 
 for shelter. There was no other house for many miles, 
 so we pushed on, trusting to our star. We were all 
 right. The house was to be filled on the morrow with 
 sportsmen, and we could be entertained " for this night 
 only." Such is luck. Even as it was, the family rooms 
 had to be given up to us ; but then, dear souls, there is 
 nothing they would not do for the Americans. As for 
 the coach, there was no building on the moors high 
 enough to take in the huge vehicle ; but as showing the
 
 Last Night 07t the Moors. 317 
 
 extreme care taken of property in this country, I note 
 that heavy tarpaulins were obtained, and it was nicely 
 covered for the night. What a monster it seemed stand- 
 ing out in the darkness ! 
 
 After dinner we received packages of the Dunferm- 
 line papers containing the full account of the demonstra- 
 tion there and of the speeches. It goes without saying 
 that there was great anxiety to read the account of that 
 extraordinary ovation. Those who had made speeches 
 and said they were not very sure what, were seen to re- 
 tire to quiet corners and bury themselves in their copies. 
 Ah, gentlemen, it is of no use ! Read your orations 
 twenty times over, you are just as far as ever from being 
 able to gauge your wonderful performances; besides the 
 speech made is nothing compared to any of half a dozen 
 you have since made to yourself on the same subject. 
 Ah ! the Dunfermline people should have heard these. 
 So sorry! One can tell all about the speeches of his 
 colleagues, however, and we made each other happy by 
 very liberal laudations, while we each felt once more the 
 generous rounds of applause with which we had been 
 greeted. 
 
 After mailing copies of the newspapers to numerous 
 friends, there came a serious cloud over all. This was 
 to be our last night on the moors ; the end of our way- 
 ward life had come. One more merry start at the horn's 
 call, and to-morrow's setting sun would see the end of 
 our happy dream. Arcadia would be no more ; the
 
 3 18 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 Charioteers' occupation would be gone. It was resolved 
 that something should be done to celebrate the night to 
 distinguish it from others. We would conform to the 
 manners and customs of the country and drink to our 
 noble selves in whiskey toddy with Highland honors. 
 This proved a success. Songs were sung ; Aaleek was 
 in his most admirable fooling; "your health and song" 
 went round, and we parted in tolerably good spirits. 
 
 There was an unusual tenderness in the grasp of the 
 hand, and mayhap something of a tremor in the kind 
 "Good-night, happy dreams," with which it was the 
 custom of the members to separate for the night, and 
 we went to bed wondering what we had done to deserve 
 so much happiness. 
 
 Boat o' Garten, August 2. 
 Inverness at last ! But most of us were up and 
 away in advance of the coach, for who would miss the 
 caller air and the joy of the moors these blessed morn- 
 ings when it seems joy enough simply to breathe? 
 But did not we catch it this morning ! No use trying 
 to march against this blow ; the wind fairly beat us, and 
 we were all glad to take refuge in the school-house till 
 the coach came ; and glad were we that we had done so. 
 Was it not a sight to see the throng of sturdy boys and 
 girls gathered together from who knows where! For 
 miles and miles there are seen but a few low huts upon 
 the moors ; but as some one has said, " Education is a
 
 Advantages of Poverty. 319 
 
 passion " in Scotland, and much of the admitted success 
 of the race has its root in this truth. The poorest crof- 
 ter in Scotland will see that his child gets to school. 
 Note this in the fine old song: 
 
 " When Aaleck, Jock, and Jeanettie 
 Are up and got their lair, 
 They'll serve to gar the boatie row 
 And lichten a' our care." 
 
 Heavy is the load of care that the Scotch father and 
 mother take upon themselves and struggle with all the 
 years of their prime that the bairns " may get their lair." 
 To the credit of the bairns let it be said that the hope 
 expressed in the verse just quoted is not often disap- 
 pointed. They do grow up to be a comfort to their 
 parents in old age when worn out with sacrifices made 
 for them. Our great men come from the cradles of 
 poverty. I think he was a very wise man who found 
 out that the advantage of poverty was a great prize 
 which a rich man could never give his son. But we 
 should not condemn the Marquises of Huntley, the Dukes 
 of Hamilton, and the rest of them ; they never had a fair 
 chance to become useful men. It is the system that is 
 at fault, and for that we the people are responsible. The 
 privileged classes might turn out quite respectably if 
 they had justice done them and were permitted to start 
 in life as other men are. For my part, I wonder that they 
 generally turn out as well as they do. The kite mounts 
 only against the wind.
 
 320 
 
 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 Coaching brings us close to Nature's sweetest charms, 
 and the good universal mother is always so gracious to 
 her children ; the cawing of the rook or the crowing of 
 the cock awakens us ; the green things and the pretty 
 flowers about the inn, which greet the eyes as we pull 
 up the blinds, and the sniff of fresh morning air which 
 a short stroll before breakfast gives us, make a splendid 
 start for the day, so different from the usual beginning 
 of city life. The whole day is spent in the open air, 
 walking or driving, or lolling upon sunny braes at 
 luncheon, amid brooks and wild flowers, and the hum 
 of bees, the songs of birds, and the grateful scent of 
 new-mown hay. And when night comes we fall asleep, 
 with the sense of dropping softly upon banks of flowers 
 without a thorn. Tell me if such a life for a few weeks 
 now and then is not the best cure for most of the serious 
 ills of this high-pressure age ! Every man who can 
 afford it should give it a trial. If overworked, he 
 should go to find the cure — if well, he should certainly 
 go in order to keep so. 
 
 We all need to learn what the poet says : 
 
 " Better that man and nature were familiar friends ; 
 That part of man is worst which touches this base life ; 
 For though the ocean in its inmost depths be pure, 
 Yet the salt fringe which daily licks the shore 
 Is foul with sand.'' 
 
 I think the last line worthy of Shakespeare, even if 
 it be the product of a poor young Glasgow poet. In
 
 Scotland's School Hotises. 221 
 
 o- 
 
 this coaching life we touch the base every-day life of 
 care and struggle at very few points indeed and hence 
 our joy. We are deep in love with Nature, and true 
 worshippers at her shrine have few sorrows. 
 
 While revelling in the exquisite beauty of England — 
 such quiet and peaceful beauty as we had never seen 
 before — the thought often came to me that I should be 
 compelled to assume the apologetic strain for my 
 beloved Scotland. It could not possibly have such 
 attractions to show as the more genial South, but so 
 far from this being so, as I have already said, there was 
 scarcely a morning or afternoon during which the 
 triumphant inquiry was not made, " What do you think 
 of Scotland noo ?" Of all that earned for Scotland the 
 first place in our hearts I mention the pretty stone 
 school-houses, with teacher's residence and garden 
 attached, which were seen in almost every village ; and 
 if I had no other foundation than this upon which to 
 predict the continued intellectual ascendency of Scot- 
 land and an uninterrupted growth of its people in every 
 department of human achievement, I should unhesitat- 
 ingly rest it upon these school-houses. A people which 
 passes through the parish school in its youth cannot 
 lose its grasp, or fall far behind in the race. Indeed, 
 compared with the thorough education of the masses, 
 the lives and quarrels of politicians seem petty in the 
 extreme. It is with education as with righteousness, 
 seek it first and all political blessings must be added 
 
 21
 
 322 
 
 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 unto you. It is the only sure foundation upon which 
 to rear the superstructure of a great State, and how 
 happy I am to boast that Scotland is not going to yield 
 the palm in this most important of all work ! No, not 
 even to the Republic. From what I saw of the new 
 schools, I'll back their scholars against any lot of 
 American children to-day ; but I admit one great lack : 
 the former would strike you as somewhat too deferential, 
 disposed to bow too much to their superiors in station, 
 while American boys are said to be born repeating the 
 Declaration of Independence. No more valuable lesson 
 can be taught a lad than this : that he is born the equal 
 of the prince, and what privileges the prince has are 
 unjustly denied him. It would do Scotch boys good to 
 hear my young American nephews upon the doctrine 
 that one man " is as good as another and a good deal 
 better." Of the sights which cause me to lose temper, 
 one is to see a splendid young Briton, a real manly 
 fellow, standing mum like a duffer when he is asked 
 why the son of a Guelph or of any other family 
 should have a privilege denied to him. Are you less a 
 man ? Have not you had as honest parents and a better 
 grandfather? Why do you stand this injustice? And 
 then he has nothing to say. Well, I have sometimes 
 thought I have noticed the cheek a little redder. That 
 is always a consolation. Thank God ! we have nothing 
 like this in America. Our young men carry in their 
 knapsacks a President's seal, and no one is born to any
 
 Popular Amusements. 323 
 
 rank or position above them. Under the starry flag 
 there are equal rights for all. It will be so in Scotland 
 perhaps ere I die (D. V.). If I had the schooling of 
 young Scotland I would make every class repeat in the 
 morning before lessons : 
 
 " If thou hast said I am not peer 
 To any lord in Scotland here, 
 
 1 
 
 Highland or lowland, far or near, 
 Lord Angus, thou hast lied." 
 
 I would teach them the new meaning of that stirring 
 verse, and tell them that the lad who did not believe 
 himself the peer of any man born and entitled to every 
 privilege " might do for an Austrian, a Russian, a 
 Prussian, or an Italian," but never would be much of 
 a Scotchman — never. 
 
 I do not think I have spoken of the announcements 
 of amusements seen everywhere during the trip through- 
 out the rural districts : band competitions, cricket 
 matches, flower shows, wrestling matches, concerts, 
 theatricals, holiday excursions, races, games, rowing 
 matches, football contests, and sports of all kinds. We 
 are surprised at their number, which gives incontesta- 
 ble evidence of the fact that the British people work 
 far less and play far more than their American cousins 
 do. No toilers, rich or poor, like the Americans ! The 
 band competitions are unknown here, but no doubt we 
 shall soon follow so good an example and try them.
 
 324 Four -in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 The bands of a district meet and compete for prizes, 
 which stirs up wholesome rivalry and leads to excel- 
 lence. We saw eight gathered for competition in one 
 little town which we passed, and the interest excited by 
 the meet was so great as to put the town en fe*te. I do 
 not know any feature of British life which would strike 
 an American more forcibly than these contests. We 
 should try one here, and, by and by, why not an inter- 
 national contest — the Dunfermline band playing the 
 " Star-Spangled Banner,' and the Pittsburgh perform- 
 ers " Rule Britannia." Yes, that's right ; I insist upon 
 " Rule Britannia " — that is the nation's song ; I am 
 growing tired of " God Save the Queen " — even such a 
 model as the present one — for the strain is only per- 
 sonal, after all. I wish Her Majesty well, but I love 
 my country more. " Rule Britannia " is the national 
 song. 
 
 I hope Americans will find some day more time for 
 play, like their wiser brethren upon the other side. 
 
 We came to the crossing of the Spey to-day to find 
 that the long high bridge was undergoing extensive re- 
 pairs and closed to travel. In America it would never 
 have occurred to us that a bridge could be closed while 
 being rebuilt, but in the science of bridge-building Brit- 
 ish engineers are a generation behind us, because they 
 have not had to build so many. However, there was 
 nothing for it but to follow down the stream until an- 
 other bridge was found. When we did find it, we saw a
 
 The Last Luncheon. 325 
 
 notice prohibiting loads beyond two tons from crossing. 
 It was a light iron structure (perhaps a Tay blunder 
 upon a small scale). The wind was whistling like a 
 fiend about our ears as it came roaring down the glen ; 
 all pleasant while we were in the woods skirting the 
 river with our backs to it, but when we turned to cross 
 it seemed as if we should be blown bodily from the top 
 of the coach. Everything was taken off the top, and 
 we all dismounted. Perry and Joe drove over, while we 
 all walked, some of us on the lee side of the coach for 
 shelter, and in a few minutes we were so sheltered in 
 the glen again as scarcely to know there was a breath of 
 air stirring; but these "Highland homes where tem- 
 pests blow " know what gales are. We have had great 
 blows now and then at some high points crossing the 
 moors, for the hills you rarely cross ; these you have to 
 avoid, but to-day was the only time we were compelled 
 to dismount. 
 
 We had not far to drive before we reached the 
 pretty little burn which falls into the Findhorn, the 
 spot selected for the last luncheon. 
 
 This spot seemed made to order ; the burn, the fire, 
 the mossy grass, the wild river, the moor and glen, 
 all here. Down sat the Charioteers for the last happy 
 luncheon together. We were all so dangerously near 
 the brink of sad regret that a bold effort was neces- 
 sary to steer clear of thoughts which pressed upon 
 us. We had to laugh for fear we might cry, the
 
 326 Four-inHand in Britain. 
 
 smile ever lies so near the tear. It had to be a lively 
 luncheon, that was all there was about it ; and when 
 duty calls it doesn't take much to start our boys to 
 frolic. A few empty bags which we had used for horse- 
 feed in emergencies suggested a sack-race. Such roars 
 of laughter when one or the other of the too ambitious 
 contestants went to grass ! This was a capital diversion. 
 Any one looking down upon us (but in these lonely glens 
 no eye is there to see) would never have imagined that 
 this sport was started only as a means to prevent the 
 travellers becoming mournful enough for a funeral. A 
 little management is a great thing; it pulled us through 
 the last luncheon with only tears of laughter. 
 
 " In, Joe ! Right, Perry ! Sound the horn ! All 
 aboard for Inverness ! " There was something in the 
 thought, " We have done it," which kept us from regret, 
 although the rebuke came sharply from the ladies, as 
 one pointed out another milestone, " Oh, don't, please ! " 
 With every white stone passed there was a mile less of 
 Arcadia to enjoy. Over moor and dale lies the way, a 
 beautiful drive, gradually descending for many miles, 
 from about twelve hundred and fifty feet above the 
 sea level at Dalwhinnie to a few hundred only near In- 
 verness. 
 
 At last the call is made, " Stop, Perry ! Capital of 
 the Highlands, all hail ! Three rousing cheers for bonnie 
 Inverness ! " There she lies so prettily upon the Moray 
 Frith, surrounded by fields of emerald green, an un- 

 
 Inverness. 327 
 
 usually grand situation and a remarkably beautiful town. 
 We stopped long upon the hill-top to enjoy the picture 
 spread out below. The Charioteers will forget much 
 ere their entrance into Inverness fades from the memory. 
 A telegram from friend G., conveyed to us the con- 
 gratulations of our Wolverhampton connection upon 
 the triumphant success of our expedition, to which 
 something like this was sent : " Thanks ! We arrived at 
 the end of this earthly paradise at six o'clock this even- 
 ing. When shall we look upon its like again ? " 
 
 Inverness, August 3. 
 
 It was Saturday, 6 P.M., August 3d, exactly seven 
 weeks and a day after leaving Brighton, when we en- 
 tered Inverness and sat down in our parlor at the Cale- 
 donian Hotel. Up went the flags as usual ; dinner was 
 ordered; then came mutual congratulations upon the 
 success of the journey just finished. Not one of the 
 thirty-two persons who had at various times travelled 
 with us ever missed a meal, or had been indisposed from 
 fatigue or exposure. Even Ben had been improved by 
 the journey. Nor had the coach ever to wait five min- 
 utes for any one ; we had breakfasted, lunched, and 
 dined together, and not one had ever inconvenienced 
 the company by failing to be in time. 
 
 How shall I render the unanimous verdict of the 
 company upon the life we had led?
 
 
 328 Four-in-Hand in Bi'itain. 
 
 " I never was so happy in my life. No, Aaleck, not 
 even upon my wedding journey." That is the verdict 
 of one devoted young wife, given in presence of her 
 husband. 
 
 " I haven't been so happy since my father took me 
 fishing, and I wasn't as happy then," was Aaleck's state- 
 ment. 
 
 " Oh, Andrew, I have been a young girl again ! " 
 We all know who said that, Miss Velvety. 
 
 " I can't help it, but I don't want to speak of it just 
 now. It's too sad." Prima Donna, this was a slightly 
 perilous line to follow, for the heart was evidently near 
 the mouth there. 
 
 " To think of it, Naig, I have to go home to-mor- 
 row." That was Eliza. 
 
 " Jerusalem the golden ! it would make a wooden 
 Indian jump, this life would." No need of putting a 
 name to that, Bennie, my lad. 
 
 "Andrew, I've just been in a dream of happiness all 
 the time." That was oor Davie. 
 
 " I never expect to be as happy for seven weeks 
 again," met with a chorus of supporters. 
 
 The Queen Dowager, however, put us all in a more 
 gleeful mood by her verdict : " Well, I expect to have 
 another coaching trip yet. You'll see ! He can't help 
 doing more of this, and I'll be there. He can't keep me 
 at home ! " And her hearty laugh and a clap of her 
 hands above her head brought us all merrily to dinner.
 
 Macbcttis Castle. 329 
 
 She is very often a true prophet. We shall see, we 
 shall see ! 
 
 After dinner we strolled about the city and admired 
 its many beauties, especially the pretty Ness, which 
 flows through the town to the sea. Its banks and isl- 
 ands constitute one of the finest of pleasure-grounds 
 for the people, and many a lover's tale, I trow, has been 
 told in the shady walks beside it. I felt quite senti- 
 mental myself, sauntering along between the gloaming 
 and the mirk with one of the young ladies. The long, 
 long gloaming of the north adds immensely to the 
 charms of such a journey as this we have just taken. 
 These are the sweetly precious hours of the day. 
 
 At Inverness we are again on classic ground ; for 
 Macbeth had a castle there, which good King Duncan 
 visited, and of which he said : 
 
 " This castle hath a pleasant seat : the air 
 Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself 
 Unto our gentle senses." 
 
 It was razed by Malcolm III. or Canmore, Duncan's 
 son, who built a new castle not far from its site. This 
 latter fortress existed until about the middle of the 
 last century, when it was blown up by the troops of 
 Charles Edward Stuart. Portions of its walls may still 
 be seen. Culloden field, too, is hard by, and all the 
 country round is rich in ruined keeps and towers. 
 
 On reassembling in our parlor an ominous lack of
 
 330 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 hilarity prevailed. We did manage, however, to get 
 the choir up to the point of giving this appropriate 
 song with a slight variation : 
 
 " Happy we've been a" thegither, 
 Happy we've been in ane and a', 
 
 Blyther folk ne'er coached thegither, 
 Sad are we to gang awaV 
 
 (Chorus). 
 
 It wasn't much of a success. We were not in tune, 
 nor in time either. Joe and Perry were to come at ten 
 to say good-by. Here the serious business of life 
 pressed upon us, escape being impossible. We had to 
 meet it at last. They came and received the thanks 
 and adieux of all. I handed them notes certifying to 
 all coming coaching parties that fortunate indeed would 
 be their lot were Perry and Joe to take them in charge. 
 Joey responded in a speech which so riveted our atten- 
 tion during delivery that not one of us could recall a 
 sentence when he ceased. This is one of the sincere 
 regrets of the travellers, for assuredly a copy of that 
 great effort would have given the record inestimable 
 value. It was a gem. I have tried to catch it, but 
 only one sentence comes to me : " And has for the 'osses, 
 sir, they are better than when we started, sir; then they 
 'ad flabby flesh, sir; now they're neat an' 'ardy." So are 
 we all of us, Joey, just like the 'osses; "neat an' 'ardy," 
 fit for walk, run, or climb, and bang-up to everything. 
 
 We had all next day to enjoy Inverness. What a
 
 Farewell to the Coach. 331 
 
 fine climate it has as compared with the Highlands south 
 of it ! Vegetation is luxuriant here and the land fertile. 
 One would naturally expect all to be bleak and bare so 
 far north, but that Gulf Stream which America sends 
 over to save the precious tight little isle from being 
 a region of ice makes it delightful in summer and 
 not extremely cold even in winter. We are assured 
 that the climate of Inverness is more genial than that 
 of Edinburgh, which is not saying very much for the 
 capital of the North surely, but still it is something. 
 
 Caledonian Hotel, 
 Inverness, August 5, evening. 
 
 General Manager, at dinner. 
 
 To waiter : " What time do we start in the morn- 
 ing ?" 
 
 Waiter : " The omnibus starts at seven, sir." 
 
 Shakespearean Stiident — " Ah ! There was the weight 
 which pulled us down. The omnibus ! Farewell the 
 neighing steeds, the spirit-stirring horn, whose sweet 
 throat awakened the echoes o'er mountain and glen. 
 Farewell, the Republican banner, and all the pride, 
 pomp, and circumstance of glorious coaching, farewell! 
 The Charioteers' occupation's gone." 
 
 First Miltonic Reciter — 
 
 " From morn till noon, 
 From noon till dewy eve, 
 A summer's day we fell."
 
 332 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 Our fall from our own four-in-hand to a public omni« 
 bus — oh, what a fall was there, my countrymen ! — 
 involved the loss of many a long summer's day to us, 
 for long as they had been the sun ever set too soon. 
 
 It was all up after this. Perry and Joe, the coach 
 and the horses, were speeding away by rail to their 
 homes ; we were no longer the coaching party, but only 
 ordinary tourists buying our tickets like other people in- 
 stead of travelling as it were in style upon annual passes. 
 But fate was merciful to us even in this extremity ; we 
 were kept from the very lowest stage of human misery 
 by finding ourselves alone and all together in the 
 omnibus ; our party just filled it. If it was only a hotel 
 omnibus, as one of the young ladies said, it was all our 
 own yet, as was the MacLean boat at the flood, and 
 the ladies, dear souls, managed to draw some consola- 
 tion from that. 
 
 We returned from Inverness by the usual tourist 
 route : canal and boat to Oban, where we rested over 
 night, thence next day to Glasgow. Under any 
 other circumstances I think this part of the journey 
 would have been delightful. The scene indelibly 
 impressed upon our minds is that we saw at night 
 near Ballahulish. I remember a party of us agreed 
 that what we then saw could never be forgotten. 
 But Black alone could paint it. It is saying much 
 for any combination of the elements when not one 
 nor two, but more of a party like ours stand and whisper
 
 The First Separation. 3 3 3 
 
 at rare intervals of the sublime and awful grandeur 
 which fascinates them into silence ; never am I lifted up 
 apparently so close to the Infinite as when amid such 
 weird, uncanny scenes as these. We had an hour of 
 this that night, fitting close to our life in the Highlands 
 of Scotland. 
 
 The first separation came at Greenock. The Queen 
 Dowager, and Mr. and Mrs. K. disembarked there for 
 Paisley. The others continued by boat to Glasgow and 
 enjoyed the sail up the Clyde very much. It was Satur- 
 day, a holiday for the workers. The miles of shipyards 
 were still, " no sound of hammers clanking rivets up," 
 that fine sunny day, but as we passed close to them we 
 saw the iron frames of the future monsters of the deep, 
 the Servia, Alaska, and others destined to bear the palm 
 for a short time, and then to give place to others still 
 greater, till the voyage between England and America 
 will be only a five-day pleasure excursion, and there will 
 be " two nations, but one people." God speed the day ! 
 But the old land must come after a time up to Republi- 
 canism ! I make a personal matter of that, Lafayette, 
 my boy, as Mulberry Sellers says. No monarchy need 
 apply. We draw the line at this. All men were created 
 free and equal. Brother Jonathan takes very little 
 " stock " in a people who do not believe that funda- 
 mental principle. 
 
 We landed at the Broomielaw, whither father and 
 mother and Tom and I sailed thirty odd years ago, on
 
 334 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 the 800-ton ship Wiscasset, and began our seven weeks' 
 voyage to the land of promise, poor emigrants in quest 
 of fortune ; but, mark you, not without thoughts in the 
 radical breasts of our parents that it was advisable to 
 leave a land which tolerated class distinctions for the 
 government of the people, by the people and for the 
 people, which welcomed them to its fold and insured for 
 their sons, as far as laws can give it, equality with the 
 highest and a fair and free field for the exercise of their 
 powers. 
 
 My father saw through not only the sham but the 
 injustice of rank, from king to knight, and loved 
 America because she knows no difference in her sons. 
 He was a Republican, aye, every inch, and his sons 
 glory in that and follow where he led. 
 
 I remember well that our friends stood on the quay 
 and waved farewell. Had their adieu been translated it 
 would have read : 
 
 " Now may the fair goddess Fortune 
 Fall deep in love with thee, 
 Prosperity be thy page." 
 
 Thanks to the generous Republic which stood with 
 open arms to receive us, as she stands to-day to welcome 
 the poor of the world to share with her own sons upon 
 equal terms the glorious heritage with which she is en- 
 dowed — thanks to it, prosperity has indeed been our 
 page.
 
 Embarkation for Home. 335 
 
 At St. Enoch's Station Hotel, Glasgow, another 
 separation of the party took place. A delegation of 
 five of our members were sent to investigate the Irish 
 question and report at Queenstown. Miss E. L. re- 
 turned to Dunfermline. Miss F. and Mr. and Mrs. K. 
 were visiting the Queen Dowager at Paisley. Harry 
 and I ran down to see friend Richards at his basic proc- 
 ess at Eston, stopping over night at York and Durham, 
 however, to enjoy once more the famous cathedrals and 
 hear the exquisite music. 
 
 Liverpool, August 13. 
 We sailed to-day in the Algeria, the great Servia 
 having been delayed. Many were there to see us off, 
 including four or five Charioteers. The English are, as 
 Davie said, " a kindly people," a warm-hearted, affec- 
 tionate race, and as true as steel. When you once have 
 them you have them forever. There was far more than 
 the usual amount of tears and kisses among the ladies. 
 One would have thought our American and English 
 women were not cousins, but sisters. The men were, as 
 befitting their colder natures, much less demonstrative. 
 There seems never to be a final good-by on shipboard ; 
 at every ringing of the bell another tender embrace and 
 another solemn promise to write soon are given. But 
 at last all our friends are upon the tug, the huge vessel 
 moves, one rope after another is cast off, handkerchiefs 
 wave, kisses are thrown, write soons exchanged, and the
 
 336 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 tug is off in one direction and we in another. Some one 
 broke the momentary silence and brought the last round 
 of cheers with the talismanic call "Skid, Joe! Right, 
 Perry ! " That touched all hearts with remembrance of 
 the happy, happy days, the happiest of our lives. So 
 parted the two branches of the Gay Charioteers. 
 
 At Queenstown we received the Irish contingent, 
 who had enjoyed their week in the Emerald Isle. Very 
 nice indeed was the report, but with this quite unneces- 
 sary addenda, " But, of course, nothing to coaching." 
 That goes without saying in our ranks. 
 
 The Algeria was a great ship in her day ; now she 
 is sold to a freight line. But when she does not give a 
 good account of herself in a hurricane do not pin your 
 faith in any iron ship. You may still, however, believe 
 that one of steel like the Servia will stand anything. 
 She has at least double the strength of any iron 
 steamer afloat. When she does not outride the tempest, 
 you may give up in earnest and decide, like Mrs. Part- 
 ington at sea, " never to trust yourself so far out of the 
 reach of Providence again." 
 
 On Wednesday morning, August 24th, the party 
 reached New York again, and were finally disbanded. 
 Two or three of the most miserable hours I ever spent 
 were those at the St. Nicholas Hotel, where the Queen 
 Dowager, Ben, and I lunched alone before starting for 
 Cresson. Even Ben had to take an earlier train for 
 Pittsburgh, and I exclaimed : " All our family gone ! I
 
 Final Farewells. 2>o7 
 
 feel so lonely, so deserted ; not one remains." But the 
 Queen was equal to the emergency. " Oh, you don't 
 count me, then ! You have still one that sticks to you." 
 Oh, yes, indeed, sure o f that, old lady. 
 
 "The good book tells of one 
 
 Who sticks closer than 3 brother ; 
 But who will dare to say there's one 
 Sticks closer than a mother ! " 
 
 (Original poetry for the occasion.) 
 
 These horrid partings again ; but whatever the future 
 has in store for those who made the excursion recorded 
 here, I think I can safely say that they could not wish 
 their dearest friend a happier life than that led from 
 June 1st to August 24th by the Gay Charioteers. 
 
 Those who have mounted the coach become, as it 
 were, by virtue of that act members of an inner circle ; 
 a band of union knits them closely together. To a hun- 
 dred dear, kind friends in the Beautiful Land we send 
 thanks and greeting. Their kindness to us can never be 
 forgotten, for they soon taught us to feel that it was not 
 a foreign land which we had visited after all, but the 
 dear old home of our fathers. 
 
 Forever and ever may the parent land and the child 
 land grow fonder and fonder of each other, and their 
 people mingle more and more till they become as one 
 and the same. All good educated Americans love Eng- 
 land, for they know that she alone among the nations 
 
 of the world 
 22
 
 338 Four-in-Hand in Britain. 
 
 " On with toil of heart and knees and hand 
 Through the long gorge to the far light hath won 
 Her path upward and prevailed." 
 
 She it was who pointed out to America what to 
 plant, and how, and where. The people of England 
 should love America, for she has taught them in return 
 that all the equal rights and privileges of man they are 
 laboring for at home are bearing goodly fruit in the freer 
 atmosphere of the West. May the two peoples, there- 
 fore, grow in love for each other, and with this fond wish, 
 and many a sad farewell, the Gay Charioteers disband, 
 forever afterward in life to rally round each other in case 
 of need at the mystic call of " Skid, Joe," " Right, Perry ; " 
 and certain of this, that whatever else fades from the 
 memory, the recollection of our coaching trip from 
 Brighton to Inverness remains a sacred possession for- 
 ever.
 
 THE RECORD. 
 
 BRIGHTON TO INVERNESS, JUNE 17 TO AUGUST 3, 1881. 
 
 MILES. 
 
 June 17 Brighton (The Grand Hotel). 
 
 " " Guildford (The White Lion) 42 
 
 " 18 and 19. .Windsor (The Castle) 32 
 
 " 20 Reading (The Queen's) 27 
 
 " 21 Oxford (The Clarendon) 34 
 
 " 22 Banbury (The White Lion) 23 
 
 " 23 Stratford-on-Avon (The Red Horse) 1 S 
 
 " 24 Coventry (The Queen's) 22 
 
 " 25 to 30 Wolverhampton (English Homes, best of all) 33 
 
 July 1 Lichfield (The Swan) 20 
 
 " 2 and 3 Dovedale (The Izaak Walton) 26 
 
 " 4 Chatsworth (The Edensor) 24 
 
 " 5 Buxton (The Palace) 26 
 
 " 6 Manchester (The Queen's) 23 
 
 " 7 Chorley (Anderton Hall) 14 
 
 " 8 Preston (The Victoria) , 16 
 
 " 9 and 10. . .Lancaster (The County) 29 
 
 " 11 Kendal (King's Arms) 22 
 
 " 12 Grassmere (Prince of Wales) 18 
 
 '* 13 Keswick (The Keswick) 12 
 
 " 14 Penrith (The Crown) 16 
 
 " 15 Carlisle (The County and Station) 16 
 
 " 16 and 17. .Dumfries (The Commercial) 32 
 
 " 18 Sanquhar (The Queensberry) 28 
 
 " 19 Old Cumnock (Dumfries Anns) -9 
 
 " 20 Douglas (Douglas Arms) 28 
 
 " 21 to 26 . . .Edinburgh (The Royal) 44 
 
 " 27 and 28. .Dunfermline (The City Arms) l6 
 
 " 29 Perth (The Royal George) 32 
 
 " 30 and 31 . . Pitlochrie (Fisher's Hotel) 33 
 
 August 1 Dalwhinnie (The Loch Ericht) 32 
 
 2 Boat o' Garten (The Boat o' Garten) 35 
 
 3 Inverness (The Caledonian) 29 
 
 Total Miles, 831
 
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