than I set to and packed up. I felt very low-spirited; the same wind
keeps blowing, and I am now anxious to be off to Mr. Selby's
Newcastle, and my dear Green Bank. My head was so full of all manner
of thoughts that I thought it was Saturday, instead of Friday, and at
five o'clock I dressed in a great hurry and went to Mr. Henry Witham's
with all possible activity. My Lucy, I was not expected till
to-morrow! Mr. Witham was not at home, and his lady tried to induce me
to remain and dine with her and her lovely daughter; but I declined,
and marched home as much ashamed of my blunder as a fox who has lost
his tail in a trap. Once before I made a sad blunder; I promised to
dine at three different houses the same day, and when it came I
discovered my error, and wrote an apology to all, and went to none.
_Twizel House, Belford--Northumberland, April 10, 1827._ Probably
since ten years I have not been so long without recording my deeds or
my thoughts; and even now I feel by no means inclined to write, and
for no particular reason. From Friday the 23d of March till the 5th of
April my time was busily employed, copying some of my drawings, from
five in the morning till seven at night. I dined out rarely, as I
found the time used by this encroached too much on that needed by my
ardent desire to improve myself in oil and in perspective, which I
wished to study with close attention. Every day brought me packets of
letters of introduction, and I called here and there to make my
adieux. I went often in the evening to Mr. Lizars'; I felt the parting
with him and his wife and sister would be hard, and together we
attended meetings of the different societies. The last night I went to
the Royal Society. Sir Wm. Hamilton[120] read a paper _against_
phrenology, which would seem to quite destroy the theory of Mr. Combe.
I left many things in the care of my landlady, as well as several
pictures, and at six o'clock on the morning of April 5, left
Edinburgh, where I hope to go again. The weather was delightful. We
passed Dunbar and Berwick, our road near the sea most of the time, and
at half-past four, the coach stopped opposite the lodge of Twizel
House. I left my baggage in the care of the woman at the lodge, and
proceeded through some small woods towards the house, which I saw
after a few minutes,--a fine house, commanding an extensive view of
the country, the German Ocean, and Bamborough Castle. I ascended the
great staircase with pleasure, for I knew that here was congeniality
of feeling. Hearing the family were out and would not return for two
hours, I asked to be shown to the library, and told my name. The man
said not a word, went off, and about ten minutes after, whilst I was
reading the preface of William Roscoe to his "Leo X.," returned and
said his master would be with me in a moment. I understood all this.
Mr. Selby came in, in hunting-dress, and we shook hands as hunters do.
He took me at once out in his grounds, where Mrs. Selby, his three
daughters, and Captain Mitford his brother-in-law were all engaged
transplanting trees, and I felt at home at once. When we returned to
the house Mr. Selby conducted me to his _laboratory_, where guns,
birds, etc., were everywhere. I offered to make a drawing and Captain
Mitford went off to shoot a Chaffinch. We had supper, after which the
eagerness of the young ladies made me open my box of drawings; later
we had music, and the evening passed delightfully. I thought much of
home I assure thee, and of Green Bank also, and then of my first sight
of thee at Fatland, and went to bed thanking God for the happy moments
he has granted us. The next morning I felt afraid my early habits
would create some disturbance in the repose of the family, and was
trying to make good my outing at five, and thought I had already done
so, when to my surprise and consternation the opening of the hall door
made such a noise as I doubted not must have been heard over the whole
establishment; notwithstanding, I issued into the country fresh air,
and heard all around me the Black-birds, Thrushes, and Larks at their
morning songs. I walked, or rather ran about, like a bird just escaped
from a cage; plucked flowers, sought for nests, watched the fishes,
and came back to draw. All went well; although the _shooting season_
(as the English please to call it) was long since over, we took
frequent walks with guns, and a few individuals were the sufferers
from my anxiety to see their bills, and eyes, and feathers; and many a
mile did I race over the moors to get them. More or less company came
daily to see my drawings, and I finished a drawing for Mr. Selby of
three birds, a Lapwing for Mrs. Selby, who drew fully as well as I
did, and who is now imitating my style, and to whom I have given some
lessons. Also I finished a small picture in oil for the charming elder
daughter Louise; the others are Jane and Fanny. So much at home did we
become that the children came about me as freely as if I had long
known them; I was delighted at this, for to me to have familiar
intercourse with children, the most interesting of beings, is one of
my greatest enjoyments, and my time here was as happy as at Green
Bank; I can say no more. The estate is well situated, highly
ornamented, stocked with an immensity of game of the country, and
trout abound in the little rivulets that tumble from rock to rock
towards the northern ocean. To-morrow I leave this with Captain
Mitford for his country seat.
_Mitford Castle, near Morpeth, Northumberland, April 11, 1827._ I rose
as early as usual, and not to disturb my kind friends, I marched down
the staircase in my stockings, as I often do where the family are not
quite such early risers; instead of opening the hall door I sat down
in the study, and outlined a Lapwing, in an extremely difficult
position, for my friend Selby, and did not go on my walk until the
servants made their appearance, and then I pushed off to the garden
and the woods to collect violets. I felt quite happy, the fragrance of
the air seemed equal to that of the little blue flowers which I
gathered. We breakfasted, and at ten o'clock I bid farewell to Mrs.
Selby; good, amiable lady, how often she repeated her invitation to me
to come and spend a goodly time with them. Mr. Selby and the children
walked down to the lodge with the captain and me, and having reached
the place too early we walked about the woods awhile. The parting
moment came at last, all too soon, our baggage was put on the top of
the "Dart," an opposition coach, and away we rolled. My good
companion Captain Mitford kept my spirits in better plight than they
would otherwise have been, by his animated conversation about game,
fishing, America, etc., and after a ride of about twelve miles we
entered the small village of Alnwick, commanded by the fine castle of
the Duke of Northumberland. Having to change horses and wait two
hours, we took a walk, and visited the interior of that ancient mass
of buildings, the whole being deserted at present, the Duke absent. I
saw the armory, the dungeons, the place for racking prisoners, but the
grotesque figures of stone standing in all sorts of attitudes,
defensive and _offensive_, all round the top of the turrets and
bastions, struck me most. They looked as if about to move, or to take
great leaps to the ground, to cut our throats. This castle covers five
acres of ground, is elevated, and therefore in every direction are
good views of the country. From it I saw the cross put up in memory of
King Malcolm killed by Hammond. At two precisely (for in England and
Scotland coaches start with great punctuality) we were again _en
route_. We passed over the Aln River, a very pretty little streamlet,
and reached Felton, where we changed horses. The whole extent of
country we passed this day was destitute of woods, and looked to me
very barren. We saw little game; about five we arrived within two
miles of Morpeth, where the captain and I alighted; we walked to a
pretty little vale and the ruins of the old castle lay before us,
still doomed to moulder more, and walking on reached the confluence of
two small, pretty streams from which originated the name of my
friend's ancestors, _Meetingford_. We reached the house, and having
heard of his brother's indisposition, the captain and I entered
quietly, and I was presented to the owner of the hall. I saw before me
a thin, pale, emaciated being who begged I would go to him, as he
could not rise. I shook his withered hand and received his kind
welcome. During the evening I had ample opportunity to observe how
clever and scientific he was, and regretted the more his frail body.
He was extremely anxious to see my drawings, and he examined them more
closely than I can ever remember any one to have done before, and was
so well acquainted with good drawing that I felt afraid to turn them
over for his inspection. After looking at probably a hundred without
saying a single word, he exclaimed suddenly: "They are truly
beautiful; our King ought to purchase them, they are too good to
belong to a _single_ individual." We talked much on subjects of
natural history, and he told me that he made it a rule that not a gun
was ever fired during the breeding season on any part of his beautiful
estate; he delighted to see the charming creatures enjoy life and
pleasure without any annoyance. Rooks, Jackdaws, Wood-Pigeons, and
Starlings were flying in hundreds about the ruined castle. We sat up
till after twelve, when hot water and spirits were produced, after
which we said good-night; but I needed nothing to make me sleep, for
in five minutes after I lay down I was--I know not where.
_April 12._ I am now at last where the famous Bewick produced his
handsome and valuable work on the birds of England. It is a
dirty-looking place, this Newcastle, and I do not know if it will
prove at all pleasant. This morning early the captain and myself took
a good ramble about Mitford Hall grounds; saw the rookery, the ruins
of the castle, and walked some way along the little river front. We
breakfasted about ten with his brother, who wished to see my drawings
by daylight. Afterwards my baggage was taken to Morpeth, and the
captain and I walked thither about twelve. Our way was along a pretty
little stream called the Wansbeck, but the weather changed and the
rain assured me that none of the persons we expected to see in the
village would come, on this account, and I was not mistaken. At
half-past four I mounted the coach for this place, and not an object
of interest presented itself in the journey of thirteen miles.
_Newcastle-upon-Tyne, April 13._ At ten o'clock I left the inn, having
had a very indifferent breakfast, served on dirty plates; therefore I
would not recommend the "Rose and Crown," or the hostess, to any
friend of mine. Yet my bed was quite comfortable, and my sleep
agreeably disturbed about one hour before day by some delightful music
on the bugle. I often, even before this, have had a wish to be a
performer on this instrument, so sure I am that our grand forests and
rivers would re-echo its sonorous sounds with fine effect. I passed
through many streets, but what a shabby appearance this
Newcastle-upon-Tyne has, after a residence of nearly six months in the
beautiful city of Edinburgh. All seems dark and smoky, indeed I
conceive myself once more in Manchester. The cries of fish, milk, and
vegetables, were all different, and I looked in vain for the rosy
cheeks of the Highlanders. I had letters to the members of the Johnson
family, given me by Captain Mitford, and therefore went to St. James
Square, where I delivered them, and was at once received by a tall,
fine-looking young gentleman, who asked me if I had breakfasted. On
being answered in the affirmative, he requested me to excuse him till
he had finished his, and I sat opposite the fire thinking about the
curious pilgrimage I had now before me. Will the result repay the
exertions? Alas! it is quite impossible for me to say, but that I
shall carry the plan out in all its parts is certain unless life
departs, and then I must hope that our Victor will fall into my place
and accomplish my desires, with John's help to draw the birds, which
he already does well. Mr. Edward Johnson soon re-entered, bringing
with him Mr. John Adamson, secretary to the Literary and Philosophical
Society of this place. I presented the letter for him from Mr. Selby,
but I saw at once that he knew me by name. Soon after he very kindly
aided me to find suitable lodgings, which I did in Collingwood
Street. We then walked to Mr. Bewick's, the engraver, son of the
famous man, and happily met him. He is a curious-looking man; his head
and shoulders are both broad, but his keen, penetrating eyes proved
that Nature had stamped him for some use in this world. I gave him the
letters I had for him, and appointed a time to call on his father. I
again suffered myself to be imposed upon when I paid my bill at the
inn on removing to my lodgings, and thought of Gil Blas of Santillane.
Five persons called to see my drawings this afternoon, and I received
a note from Mr. Bewick inviting me to tea at six; so I shall see and
talk with the wonderful man. I call him wonderful because I am
sincerely of the opinion that his work on wood is superior to anything
ever attempted in ornithology. It is now near eleven at night. Robert
Bewick (the son) called for me about six, and we proceeded to his
father's house. On our way I saw an ancient church with a remarkably
beautiful _Lanterne_ at top, St. Nicholas' Church I was told, then we
passed over the Tyne, on a fine strong bridge of stone, with several
arches, I think six or seven. This is distant from the sea, and I must
say that the Tyne _here_ is the only stream I have yet seen since my
landing resembling at all a river. It is about as large as Bayou Sara
opposite the Beech Woods, when full. I saw some of the boats used in
carrying coals down the stream; they are almost of oval shape, and are
managed with long, sweeping oars, and steerers much like our
flat-boats on the Ohio. My companion did not talk much; he is more an
acting man than a talker, and I did not dislike him for that. After
ascending a long road or lane, we arrived at Bewick's dwelling, and I
was taken at once to where he was at work, and saw the man himself. He
came to me and welcomed me with a hearty shake of the hand, and took
off for a moment his half-clean cotton night-cap tinged with the smoke
of the place. He is tall, stout, has a very large head, and his eyes
are further apart than those of any man I remember just now. A
complete Englishman, full of life and energy though now seventy-four,
very witty and clever, better acquainted with America than most of his
countrymen, and an honor to England. Having shown me the work he was
at, a small vignette cut on a block of box-wood not more than three by
two inches, representing a dog frightened during the night by false
appearances of men formed by curious roots and branches of trees,
rocks, etc., he took me upstairs and introduced me to his three
daughters--all tall, and two of them with extremely fine figures; they
were desirous to make my visit an agreeable one and most certainly
succeeded. I met there a Mr. Goud, and saw from his pencil a perfect
portrait of Thomas Bewick, a miniature, full-length, in oil, highly
finished, well drawn and composed. The old gentleman and I stuck to
each other; he talked of my drawings, and I of his woodcuts, till we
liked each other very much. Now and then he would take off his cotton
cap, but the moment he became animated with the conversation the cap
was on, yet almost off, for he had stuck it on as if by magic. His
eyes sparkled, his face was very expressive, and I enjoyed him much
more, I am sure, than he supposed. He had heard of my drawings and
promised to call early to-morrow morning with his daughters and some
friends. I did not forget dear John's wish to possess a copy of his
work on quadrupeds, and having asked where I could procure one, he
answered "Here." After coffee and tea had been served, young Bewick,
to please me, brought a bagpipe of a new construction, called a
"Durham," and played simple, nice Scotch and English airs with
peculiar taste; the instrument sounded like a hautboy. Soon after ten
the company broke up, and we walked into Newcastle. The streets were
desolate, and their crookedness and narrowness made me feel the more
the beauty of fair Edinburgh.
_April 14._ The weather is now becoming tolerable and spring is
approaching. The Swallows glide past my windows, and the Larks are
heard across the Tyne. Thomas Bewick, his whole family, and about a
hundred others have kept me busy exhibiting drawings. Mr. Bewick
expressed himself as perfectly astounded at the boldness of my
undertaking. I am to dine with him to-morrow, Mr. Adamson to-day, and
Mr. Johnson on Wednesday if I do not go on to York that day.
_April 15._ Mr. Adamson called for me at church time, and we proceeded
a short distance and entered St. Nicholas' church. He ordered an
officer to take me to what he called _the mansion house_ and I was led
along the aisles to a place enclosed by an iron railing and showed a
seat. In looking about me I saw a large organ over the door I had
entered, and in front of this were seated many children, the lasses in
white, the lads in blue. An immense painting of the Lord's Supper
filled the end opposite the entrance, and the large Gothic windows
were brilliant with highly colored glass. A few minutes passed, when a
long train of office bearers and the magistrates of the town, headed
by the mayor, came in procession and entered _the mansion house_ also;
a gentleman at my elbow rose and bowed to these and I followed his
example; I discovered then that I was seated in the most honorable
place. The service and sermon were long and tedious; often to myself I
said, "Why is not Sydney Smith here?" Being in church I sat patiently,
but I must say I thought the priest uncommonly stupid. Home to
luncheon and afterwards went to Heath, the painter,[121] who with his
wife received me with extreme kindness. He showed me many sketches, a
number of which were humorous. He likes Newcastle better than
Edinburgh, and I would not give an hour at Edinburgh, especially were
I with friend Lizars, his wife, and sister, for a year here. So much
for difference of taste.--I have just returned from old Bewick's. We
had a great deal of conversation, all tending towards Natural History;
other guests came in as the evening fell, and politics and religion
were touched upon. Whilst this was going on old Bewick sat silent
chewing his tobacco; the son, too, remained quiet, but the eldest
daughter, who sat next to me, was very interesting, and to my surprise
resembles my kind friend Hannah Rathbone so much, that I frequently
felt as if Miss Hannah, with her black eyes and slender figure, were
beside me. I was invited to breakfast to-morrow at eight with Mr.
Bewick to see the old gentleman at work.
_April 16._ I breakfasted with old Bewick this morning quite _sans
ceremonie_, and then the old man set to work to show me how simple it
was to _cut wood_! But cutting wood as he did is no joke; he did it
with as much ease as I can feather a bird; he made all his tools,
which are delicate and very beautiful, and his artist shop was clean
and attractive. Later I went with Mr. Plummer, the officiating
American consul at this place, to the court-rooms, and Merchant Coffee
House, also to a new fish market, small and of a half-moon form,
contiguous to the river, that I have forgotten to say is as dirty and
muddy as an alligator hole. The coal boats were moving down by
hundreds, with only one oar and a steerer, to each of which I saw
three men. We then went to the Literary and Philosophical Society
rooms; the library is a fine, large room with many books--the museum
small, but in neat order, and well supplied with British specimens.
Since then I have been showing my drawings to at least two hundred
persons who called at my lodgings. I was especially struck with a
young lady who came with her brother. I saw from my window a groom
walking three fine horses to and fro, and almost immediately the lady
and gentleman entered, whip in hand, and spurred like fighting-cocks;
the lady, with a beaver and black silk neckerchief, came in first and
alone, holding up with both hands her voluminous blue riding-habit,
and with a _ton_ very unbecoming her fine eyes and sweet face. She
bowed carelessly, and said: "Compliments, sir;" and perceiving how
much value she put on herself, I gave her the best seat in the room.
For some time she sat without a word; when her brother began to put
questions, however, she did also, and so fast and so searchingly that
I thought them _Envoies Extraordinaires_ from either Temminck or
Cuvier. Mr. Adamson, who sat by all the time, praised me, when they
had gone, for my patience, and took me home to dine with him _en
famille_. A person (a glazier, I suppose), after seeing about a
hundred pictures, asked me if I did not want glass and frames for
them. How I wish I was in America's dark woods, admiring God's works
in all their beautiful ways.