We drove back through the beautiful park, the Duke of Norfolk’s gift to
Sheffield, which is plentifully provided, like all English towns, with
public pleasure-grounds. They lie rather outside of it, but within it
are many and many religious and civic edifices which merit to be seen.
We chose as chiefest the ancient Parish Church, of Norman origin and
modern restoration, where we visited the tomb of the Lord and Lady
Shrewsbury who were Mary Stuart’s jailers; or if they were not, a pair
of their family were, and it comes to the same thing, emotionally. The
chapel in which they lie is most beautiful, and the verger had just
brushed the carpet within the chancel to such immaculate dustlessness
that he could not bring himself to let us walk over it. He let us walk
round it, and we saw the chapel as a favor, which we discharged with an
abnormal tip after severe debate whether a person of this verger’s rich
respectability and perfect manner would take any tip at all. In the
event it appeared that he would.
* * * * *