excitement (not fear, though as sensitive and tremulous as that
emotion), which, in consequence of the homogeneous character of the
people, their intense patriotism, and their dependence for their ideas
in public affairs on other sources than their own examination and
individual thought, are more sudden, pervasive, and unreasoning than any
similar mood of our own public. In truth, I have never seen the American
public in a state at all similar, and believe that we are incapable of
it. Our excitements are not impulsive, like theirs, but, right or wrong,
are moral and intellectual. For example, the grand rising of the North,
at the commencement of this war, bore the aspect of impulse and passion
only because it was so universal, and necessarily done in a moment, just
as the quiet and simultaneous getting-up of a thousand people out of
their chairs would cause a tumult that might be mistaken for a storm. We
were cool then, and have been cool ever since, and shall remain cool to
the end, which we shall take coolly, whatever it may be. There is
nothing which the English find it so difficult to understand in us as
this characteristic. They imagine us, in our collective capacity, a kind
of wild beast, whose normal condition is savage fury, and are always
looking for the moment when we shall break through the slender barriers
of international law and comity, and compel the reasonable part of the
world, with themselves at the head, to combine for the purpose of
putting us into a stronger cage. At times this apprehension becomes so
powerful (and when one man feels it, a million do) that it resembles the
passage of the wind over a broad field of grain, where you see the whole
crop bending and swaying beneath one impulse, and each separate stalk
tossing with the self-same disturbance as its myriad companions. At such
periods all Englishmen talk with a terrible identity of sentiment and
expression. You have the whole country in each man; and not one of them
all, if you put him strictly to the question, can give a reasonable
ground for his alarm. There are but two nations in the world--our own
country and France--that can put England into this singular state. It is
the united sensitiveness of a people extremely well-to-do, careful of
their country's honor, most anxious for the preservation of the cumbrous
and moss-grown prosperity which they have been so long in consolidating,
and incompetent (owing to the national half-sightedness, and their
habit of trusting to a few leading minds for their public opinion) to
judge when that prosperity is really threatened.
If the English were accustomed to look at the foreign side of any
international dispute, they might easily have satisfied themselves that
there was very little danger of a war at that particular crisis, from
the simple circumstance that their own Government had positively not an
inch of honest ground to stand upon, and could not fail to be aware of
the fact. Neither could they have met Parliament with any show of a
justification for incurring war. It was no such perilous juncture as
exists now, when law and right are really controverted on sustainable or
plausible grounds, and a naval commander may at any moment fire off the
first cannon of a terrible contest. If I remember it correctly, it was a
mere diplomatic squabble, in which the British ministers, with the
politic generosity which they are in the habit of showing towards their
official subordinates, had tried to browbeat us for the purpose of
sustaining an ambassador in an indefensible proceeding; and the American
Government (for God had not denied us an administration of statesmen
then) had retaliated with stanch courage and exquisite skill, putting
inevitably a cruel mortification upon their opponents, but indulging
them with no pretense whatever for active resentment.
Now the Lord Mayor, like any other Englishman, probably fancied that War
was on the western gale, and was glad to lay hold of even so
insignificant an American as myself, who might be made to harp on the
rusty old strings of national sympathies, identity of blood and
interest, and community of language and literature, and whisper peace
where there was no peace, in however weak an utterance. And possibly his
Lordship thought, in his wisdom, that the good feeling which was sure to
be expressed by a company of well-bred Englishmen, at his august and
far-famed dinner-table, might have an appreciable influence on the grand
result. Thus, when the Lord Mayor invited me to his feast, it was a
piece of strategy. He wanted to induce me to fling myself, like a lesser
Curtius, with a larger object of self-sacrifice, into the chasm of
discord between England and America, and, on my ignominious demur, had
resolved to shove me in with his own right-honorable hands, in the hope
of closing up the horrible pit forever. On the whole, I forgive his
Lordship. He meant well by all parties,--himself, who would share the
glory, and me, who ought to have desired nothing better than such an
heroic opportunity,--his own country, which would continue to get cotton
and bread-stuffs, and mine, which would get everything that men work
with and wear.
As soon as the Lord Mayor began to speak, I rapped upon my mind, and it
gave forth a hollow sound, being absolutely empty of appropriate ideas.
I never thought of listening to the speech, because I knew it all
beforehand in twenty repetitions from other lips, and was aware that it
would not offer a single suggestive point. In this dilemma, I turned to
one of my three friends, a gentleman whom I knew to possess an enviable
flow of silver speech, and obtested him, by whatever he deemed holiest,
to give me at least an available thought or two to start with, and, once
afloat, I would trust my guardian-angel for enabling me to flounder
ashore again. He advised me to begin with some remarks complimentary to
the Lord Mayor, and expressive of the hereditary reverence in which his
office was held,--at least, my friend thought that there would be no
harm in giving his Lordship this little sugar-plum, whether quite the
fact or no,--was held by the descendants of the Puritan forefathers.
Thence, if I liked, getting flexible with the oil of my own eloquence, I
might easily slide off into the momentous subject of the relations
between England and America, to which his Lordship had made such weighty
allusion.
Seizing this handful of straw with a death-grip, and bidding my three
friends bury me honorably, I got upon my legs to save both countries, or
perish in the attempt. The tables roared and thundered at me, and
suddenly were silent again. But, as I have never happened to stand in a
position of greater dignity and peril, I deem it a stratagem of sage
policy here to close these Sketches, leaving myself still erect in so
heroic an attitude.
INDEX
Actress, an, in an almshouse, 507;
starving for admiration, 508.
Addison, early home of, 215;
buried among the men of rank, 456.
Advice, as to giving, 42.
Ailsa Craig, 358.
Alexander, Miss, the Lass of Ballochmyle, 344.
Almshouse, a great English, 498-522.
American flags, captured, displayed in Chelsea Hospital, 435.
American mercantile marine, misrepresented at Liverpool, 2, 3, 46;
its vicious system, 45, 48.
American shipmasters, cruelties of, 44-49.
Americans, national characteristics of, as seen by a consul, 9, 10;
vagabond habits of, 11, 12;
as claimants of English estates, 18, 22-31;
growth and change the law of their existence, 93;
their scholars and critics, 190;
their light regard for the President, 553.
Andre, Major, at Lichfield, 216.
Anne, Queen, statue of, at Blenheim, 295.
Antiquity, hoar, in English scenes, 90.
Archdeacon ale, 300.
Armour, Jean, 329, 330, 346.
Auchinleck, estate of, 343.
Avon, the, arched bridge at Warwick, 105;
a sluggish river, 166.
Ayr, ride to, 347;
its two bridges, 348.
Bacon, Lord, his Letters, 176.
Bacon, Miss, a very remarkable woman, 172;
her Shakespearean theory, 172, 173, 176-178;
her personal appearance, 174;
her book, 179, 189, 192;
an admirable talker, 180;
at Stratford, 181-191;
her plans for searching Shakespeare's grave, 182-184;
Hawthorne incurs her displeasure, 188;
her insanity, 191;
her death, 192.
Ballochmyle, the Lass of, 344.
Banquets, civic, 527-588.
Barber Surgeons' Hall, in London, 537-539.
Bear and Ragged Staff, the, cognizance of the Warwick Earldom, 109;
silver badge of, 113;
representations of, at Leicester's Hospital, 116, 118, 133.
Beauchamp, Richard, Earl of Warwick, memorial of, 138;
strange accident to, 139.
Beauchamp Chapel, at Warwick, 137-140.
Bebbington, monuments at, 85, _note_;
old village church of, 98, _note_.
Beggar, a true Englishman's dislike of a, 491;
hardening the heart against, 492;
a phenomenal, 493-495.
Belmont, August, minister at the Hague, 29.
Ben Lomond, 358.
Black Swan inn, Lichfield, 199.
Blackheath, the wide waste of, 370-373;
amusements at, 373-375.
Blenheim, excursion to, 281, 282;
its park, 283-289;
Marlborough's Triumphal Pillar at, 289;
its palace, 289-296;
its gardens, 296-298.
Bolton, 231.
Boston, old, trip to, by steamer from Lincoln, 255-259;
the river side of, 260;
antique-looking houses at, 263;
a bookseller's shop at, 264, 265;
its crooked and narrow streets, 275;
its Charity School scholars, 277;
market-day in, 278.
Boswell, Sir James, grandson of Johnson's friend, 343.
Brooke, Lord, shot near the Minster Pool, 206.
Brown, Capability, his lake at Blenheim, 284;
grounds at Nuneham Courtney, 321.
Buchanan, James, in London, 20;
receives Hawthorne's resignation, 55;
calls on Miss Bacon, 178.
Buckland, Dean, swallows part of Louis XIV.'s heart, 270.
Bull, John, too intensely English, 101.
Bunker Hill, England, 279.
Burleigh, Lord, waistcoat of, 266.
Burns, Robert, his house at Dumfries, 325-327;
his mausoleum, 329, 330;
marble statue of, 329;
his outward life, 331;
his family pew in St. Michael's Church, 334;
his farm of Moss Giel, 337-342;
his birthplace, 349-351;
his monument, 351-353.
Butchers' shops, in poor streets of London, 474.
Carfax, the, 320.
Caskets, burial, "a vile modern phrase," 140.
Cass, Lewis, responds to interference of British Minister, 46.
Catrine, "the clean village of Scotland," 345.
Ceylon, wild men of, 28.
Charlecote Hall, 195-198.
Charlecote Park, 193; deer in, 194, 195.
Charles, the Martyr, king, 270.
Charles I., Vandyck's picture of, 292.
Chelsea, 433.
Chelsea Hospital, 433-437.
Chester, most curious town in England, 59.
Children in an English almshouse, 509-519.
Children, poor, in London streets, 487-489.
Church of the Holy Trinity, Stratford, 155.
Climate, English, unfavorable to open-air memorials, 83, 84.
Cockneys, in Greenwich Park, 379.
Coffee-room, English, ponderous gloom of, 200.
Combe, John a', boon-companion of Shakespeare, 164;
buried near Shakespeare, 168;
marble figure of, 170;
Shakespeare's squib on, 170.
Concord River, compared with the Leam, 67.
Connecticut shopkeeper, a, seeking interview with the Queen, 17-21.
Conner, Mr., an American patron of Leicester's Hospital, 133.
Consul, as general adviser and helper, 31, 32, 42, 43;
as arbiter between seamen and their officers, 44-49;
not a favorite with shipmasters, 49;
necessary qualifications, 51, 52;
wrong system of appointment and removal, 52;
important duties, 53;
emoluments, 55,
_note_.
Consulate, American, in Liverpool, its location, 1;
its approaches, 1, 2;
its furnishings, 3-6;
visitors at, 7-21;
faithful English subordinates, 50, 51;
Hawthorne's successor at, 56.
Cook, Captain, present from Queen of Otaheite to, 266.
Cornwall, Barry, 469.
Cottages, rustic laborers', 79-81.
Cotton, Rev. John, in Old Boston, 263, 270, 271.
Crystal Palace, the, 438.
Cumnor, village of, 301; its church, 302, 303.
Cymbeline, King, founder of Warwick, 103, 129;
one of his original gateways, 112.
Deluge, necessity of a new, 472, 518.
Dinner, the English idea of, 527;
Milton on, 528;
a perfect work of art, 530, 531;
an English mayor's, 539-560;
Lord Mayor's, at the Mansion House, 563.
Doctor of Divinity, an erring, 33-41.
Doon, the bridge of, 357.
Dowager, an English, 73-75.
Dudley, Earl of Leicester, establishes Leicester's Hospital, 115;
a grim sinner, 127;
his monument in Beauchamp Chapel, 137;
his long-enduring kindness, 138.
Dumfries, excursion to, 325-334.
Dutch government, an American under the ban of, 29.
East winds, English, 257.
Edward IV., King, a lock of his hair, 140.
Edward the Confessor, shrine of, 455.
Elizabeth, Queen, Secret-Book of, 269.
Elm, the beautiful Warwickshire, 69.
England, conservative, 141;
yet the foundations of its aristocracy crumbling, 141.
English, the, forgetful of defeats, 4;
their character, massive materiality of, 23;
secret of their practical success, 42;
impostors betrayed by pronunciation of "been," 44;
their integrity, 51;
their love of high stone fences and shrubbery, 69, 371;
curious infelicity of, 100;
like to feel the weight of the past, 111;
the very kindest people on earth, 305;
their insular narrowness, 306;
their inability to enjoy summer, 367;
original simplicity of, 379;
eager to know their weight, 402;
women not beautiful, 406;
their contempt for fine-strained purity, 408, 409;
their tendency to batter one another's persons, 482.
English crowds, unfragrant, 397, 398.
English post-prandial oratory, 555, 579.
English village, fossilized life of an, 93.
English weather, 5, 366-368.
Englishman, a middle-aged, personal appearance of, 542.
Epitaphs: illegible, on English gravestones, 84;
moss-embossed, 85;
forlorn one on John Treeo, 86, 87.
Eugene, Prince, tapestry portraits of, 294.
Feeing, in England, 161, 162, _note_.
Feminine character among the London poor, 481-487.
Fences, English stone, adorned by Nature, 151, 152, _note_.
Forster, Anthony, buried in Cumnor Church, 303.
Fruit, English, poor flavor of, 364.
Fun of the Fair, the, 399.
Garrick, David, boyish days at Lichfield, 216.
Gin-shops, London, 472.
Girls, English and American, contrasted, 72, 75, 406.
Godiva, Countess, picture of, 535.
Godstowe, old nunnery of, 317.
Gravestones, English, successive crops of, 83;
illegible inscriptions on, 84;
moss-embossed inscriptions on, 85.
Greenwich, its park, 376, 377, 379, 380, 383;
its observatory, the centre of Time and Space, 376;
its hospital, 385-396;
its fair, 396-408.
Hatton, a community of old settlers, 95;
its church, 96, 97.
Hawthorne responds to toasts at civic banquets, 558-560, 582-588.
Hedges, English, 149.
Henry V., his helmet and war-saddle displayed in
Westminster Abbey, 455.
Highland Mary, the pocket Bible that Burns gave her, 353.
Holbein, masterpiece of, in Barber Surgeons' Hall, 537.
Home, a genuine British, 359-364.
Hotels and hotel bills, English, 162, _note_.
Houses of Parliament, the, 431.
Hunt, Leigh, interview with, 459-468;
final recollection of, 468.
Imogen, Shakespeare's womanliest woman, 129.
Jackson, General, bust of, 4.
James, G. P. R., never saw London Tower, 428.
James I., King, feasted by an Earl of Warwick, 119, 134.
Jephson, Dr., discoverer of chalybeate well at Leamington, 63.
Jephson Garden, on the Leam, 65-67.
Johnson, Dr., born at Lichfield, 201;
as a man, a talker, and a humorist, 202;
the great English moralist, 203;
his birthplace, 216, 217;
his statue, by Lucas, 218;
statue in St. Paul's Cathedral, 219, _note_;
doing penance in the market-place, 220, 223, 228, 229, 230;
his faith in beef and mutton, 225.
Johnson, Michael, selling books on market-day, 221;
his book-stall, 222;
at the Nag's Head inn, 226, 227.
Jolly Beggars, the, at Posie Nansie's inn, 336.
Jonson, Ben, buried standing upright, 451.
Judges, social standing of, 549.
Kemble, John, statue of, in Westminster Abbey, 445.
Kirk Alloway, 354-356.
"Kissing in the Ring," 404.
Kneller, Sir Godfrey, his objection to being buried in
Westminster Abbey, 449.
Lambeth Palace, 432.
Lancashire, a dreary county, 231.
Lansdowne Circus, 60;
its houses, 61;
its inhabitants, 62.
Leam, the river, 63, 65;
the laziest in the world, 67.
Leamington Spa, 60;
a permanent watering-place, 63, 64;
the business portion of the town, 68;
beautiful in street and suburb, 69;
but pretentious, 70;
its aristocratic names, 71;
the throng on its principal Parade, 71, 72.
Lear, West's dreary picture of, 390.
Leicester's Hospital at Warwick:
an assemblage of edifices, 112;
the twelve brethren of, 113, 115, 116, 118, 125, 131, 134, 135;
a perfect specimen, 116;
a jolly old domicile, 121;
system of life in, 123;
the porter at, 124-126.
Lestrange, Sir Nicholas, first proprietor of Leicester's Hospital
buildings, 114, 115.
Lichfield, 199;
origin of the name, 201;
birthplace of Dr. Johnson, 201, 216;
its people old-fashioned, 204;
its cathedral, 206-214.
Lillington, the village, 78;
its church, 81, 82;
its churchyard, 83-87.
Lincoln, cabs unknown there, 236;
its narrow principal street, 237;
its cathedral, 236, 239-249, 253, 254;
Roman remains at, 250;
Norman ruins at, 251.
Linkwater, Sir John, fines himself for drunkenness, 548.
Liquor, varieties of hop and malt, in England, 299, 300.
Liverpool, a convenient starting-point for excursions, 58.
Lodgings, English custom of, 70, _note_.
London, suburb, a, 359;
a distant view of, 373;
grimy, 375.
Lord Mayor's dinner, at the Mansion House, 563-588.
Lovers' Grove, at Leamington, 77.
Loving-cup, the Lord Mayor's, 575-577.
Lucy, Sir Thomas, and Shakespeare, 196.
Malay pirates, delightful qualities of, 28.
Mansfield, Lord, statue of, in Westminster Abbey, 445.
Mansion House, the, in London, 563.
Marlborough, Duke of, Triumphal Pillar of, 288.
Mary Queen of Scots, quilt embroidered by, 265, 271.
Mauchline, redolent of Burns, 335;
rusty and time-worn, 336;
its chief business, 346.
Maury, Mr., appointed consul at Liverpool by Washington, 50.
McClellan, General, before Richmond, 43.
Melville, Herman, his "Israel Potter" referred to, 13.
"Memory green, keep his," possible origin of the phrase, 86.
Methodist open-air preaching in Greenwich Park, 380-383.
Minster Pool, the, at Lichfield, 205.
Montagu, Lady Mary Wortley, monument to, in Lichfield
Cathedral, 211.
Moss Giel, Burns's farm of, 337-342.
Museum, the British, too many materials for knowledge in, 384,
_note_.
Nag's Head inn, the, at Uttoxeter, 226.
Nelson, Admiral, his highest ambition, 391;
not a representative man, 392-394;
Southey's biography of, 393;
pictures of his exploits, 394;
two of his coats preserved at Greenwich Hospital, 395.
Newcastle, Duke and Duchess of, 444.
New Orleans, battle of, forgotten by Englishmen, 4.
Nuneham Courtney, 314, 320-322.
Old age, cheerful and genial in England, 277.
Open-air life of the London poor, 476-481.
Otaheite, Queen of, her present to Captain Cook, 266, 271.
Oxford, barges at, 318;
indescribable, 322, 323.
Painted Hall, the, at Greenwich Hospital, 390, 391.
Parliament, British, and American sailors, 45, 46.
Parr, Dr., once vicar of Hatton, 95;
a misplaced man, 97;
a guest at Leicester's Hospital, 130.
Peacock hotel, Old Boston, 259.
Pearce, Mr., vice-consul at Liverpool, 50.
Peel, Sir Robert, and Holbein's masterpiece in Barber Surgeons'
Hall, 537.
Philadelphia printer, a, wandering about England, 13-17.
Poets' Corner, in Westminster Abbey, 451-459.
Pope, Alexander, his account of Stanton Harcourt, 308;
translation of Homer, 314.
Porter, Mr., bookseller at Old Boston, 265-271.
Posie Nansie's inn at Mauchline, 336.
Posthumus and Imogen, 129.
Poverty, glimpses of English, 470-524.
Procter, Bryan Waller, 469.
Raleigh, Sir Walter, and the Thames Tunnel, 420-422.
"Red Letter A," author of, 306.
Redfern's Old Curiosity Shop, at Warwick, 142, 143.
Regatta of the Free Watermen of Greenwich, a, 413.
Remorse, tragedy of, 40.
Robsart, Amy, embroidery by, at Leicester's Hospital, 133;
monument of her avenger, 137.
Rosamond, Fair, at the nunnery of Godstowe, 317.
Rosamond's Well, Blenheim, 287.
Russell, Lord John, remonstrates against outrages on American
sailors, 46.
Sacheverell, Dr., 219.
Sacrament Sunday at Mauchline, 337.
Sailors, American, ill-usage of, 44.
St. Botolph's Church, Old Boston, 259, 262, 272-275.
St. Chad, 201.
St. Hugh, shrine of, in Lincoln Cathedral, 247.
St. John's School-House, at Warwick, 104.
St. Mary's Church, at Warwick, 136.
St. Mary's Hall, at Coventry, 533-536.
St. Mary's Square, at Lichfield, 216, 218.
St. Michael's Church, at Dumfries, 328, 332-334.
St. Paul's Cathedral, 429.
Saracen's Head hotel, Lincoln, 236.
Scenery, English, 146, 232.
Schools, English, long-established, 104.
Scott, Sir Walter, attractiveness of his name, 160;
and Anthony Forster, 303.
Seward, Miss, at Lichfield, 216.
Shakespeare: his church, 155;
his birthplace, 157-163;
his various guises, 164;
his curse on the man who should stir his bones, 165;
his burial-place, 165-171;
family monuments, 167;
his bust, in the church at Stratford, 168, 169;
Miss Bacon's theory, 175;
immeasurable depth of his plays, 175.
Sheffield, the town of razors and smoke, 235.
Sherwood Forest, 235.
Shrewsbury, pleasant walks in, 238, _note_.
Southey, Robert, his Life of Nelson, 393.
Stanton Harcourt, its hospitable parsonage, 305;
its old castle, 306, 307, 313, 314;
Pope's connection with, 308, 309, 314, 315;
its church, 309-312.
Sterne, Laurence, crayon-portrait of, 267.
Stocks, village, at Whitnash, 90.
Stratford-on-Avon, scenery near, 145;
approach to, 153, 154;
queer edifices in, 155.
Swans, aspect and movement of, 66.
Swynford, Catherine, monument of, in Lincoln Cathedral, 247.
Tam O'Shanter, statue of, 353.
Taylor, General, portrait of, 4.
Temple, the, 431.
Tennyson, and English scenery, 77.
Testament, New, consular copy of, 6, 45.
Thames, ferry near Cumnor, 305;
steamers on, 412;
its muddy tide, 414;
a summer day's voyage on, 412-435.
Thames Tunnel, the, 415-423.
Thornhill, Sir James, 291, 390.
Tickell, Thomas, his lines on Addison, 456.
Tower of London, the, 427, 428.
Traitor's Gate, the, 427.
Treeo, John, forlorn epitaph on, 86.
Trees, English and American, compared, 147-149.
Tuckerman, H. T., his "Month in England," 439.
Uttoxeter, 221;
its idle people, 223;
its abundance of public houses, 224.
Vagabonds, Yankee, abroad, 11-22.
Vandyck, his picture of Charles I., 292.
Victoria, Queen, a Connecticut shopkeeper goes to England to see
her, 18-21;
some American blood-relatives, 26.
Walmesley, Gilbert, monument to, in Lichfield Cathedral, 211.
Wapping, cold and torpid, 425.
Warren, Sir Peter, bust of, in Westminster Abbey, 444.
Warwick, founded by Cymbeline, 103, 129;
its castle, 105, 107;
its principal street, 108, 109;
military display at, 109;
the High Street, 110;
Leicester's Hospital, 112-127;
the home of Posthumus and Imogen, 129;
church of St. Mary's, 136-140;
Redfern's Old Curiosity Shop, 142, 143.
Warwickshire Elm, the beautiful, 69.
Wasps, attracted by pomatum, 319.
Wedding, of some poor English people, 522-524;
an aristocratic, in the same cathedral, 525.
Wedding, silver, as a matter of conscience, 76.
West, Benjamin, picture by, at Greenwich, 389.
Westminster Abbey, a Sunday afternoon service in, 440;
its interior, 441;
statues and tombs in, 444-447;
"they do bury fools there," 449;
Poets' Corner, 451-459.
Whitefriars, the old rowdy Alsatia, 430.
Whitnash, secluded village of, 88;
yew-tree of incalculable age at, 89;
village stocks of, 90;
change at work in, 93, 94.
Wilberforce, William, statue of, in Westminster Abbey, 446, 447.
Wilding, Mr., vice-consul at Liverpool, 51.
Wilkins, Sergeant, 550, 551, 557.
Wilmot, Earl of Rochester, 286.
Witham, the river, 255, 263.
Women, in the poorer streets of London, 479, 484;
in an English almshouse, 499;
at public dinners, 567.
Woodstock, 282.
Wren, Sir Christopher, restorer of St. Mary's Church, Warwick, 136.
Yew-tree, extraordinary age of, 89.
End of Project Gutenberg's Our Old Home, Vol. 2, by Nathaniel Hawthorne