bord from the arena of this world is, | England and Scotland was very heavy, however, enveloped in a mystery, of and my sister had that morning given which scarcely anything has been my father a letter to post which was known in England, or even generally in addressed to me. He took it from his France. An account of the prince's pocket when Sir John said he was last illness has recently been given by about to stay in Warwickshire, and a very distinguished French writer, laughingly concluding that a letter from who affirms positively that Henri V. one little girl to another could hardly was poisoned, and offers certainly very be worth postage, asked if it would cogent reasons for this belief. We trouble him to drop it at my mother's subjoin in a footnote some extracts door. Sir John took it at once, but infrom his statement, by which our readers can judge for themselves how far he was right in his conclusions.1 stead of sending it by a servant, he came himself and paid us a very pleasant visit. I was sitting on a low seat in a corner of the room, and having The royal children passed out of our shaken hands with my mother, he came lives, and we saw them no more; but up to me and gave me the letter with a other notable figures follow them few kind words. I raised my eyes to quickly on the stage of memory. I him as I took it, and saw a tall, quietthink that very few persons indeed can looking man, simple though dignified in now be living who remember the father manner, with somewhat heavy features, of Mr. Gladstone. I have a vivid rec- which, according to my recollection, ollection of him, as a kind action bore no resemblance to the striking towards myself was the cause of a visit countenance of his distinguished son. he paid to my mother, with whom I That was not, I think, the only occawas when he came into the room. She sion on which I saw him, but it is was staying for a short time at Leam- the one most impressed on my memington, my father having remained in ory. I have, however, clear rememScotland. He had there met Sir John brances of other members of the Gladstone, whom he knew well, and family, especially two very old ladies heard from him that he was himself-great-aunts, I think, to Mr. Gladjust starting for Leamington. These stone who wore the most wonderful were the days when postage between 1 The Comte de Chambord, sixty-three years of age, strong and robust, had returned from Goritz, where he had passed the winter, to Frohsdorff, and was perfectly well. Suddenly on the 14th of June, 1883, he was seized with abdominal pains and violent sickness, accompanied with raging erections on their heads in the shape of highly starched caps, with huge ruffs round their necks, and whose manners were solemn and austere to the last degree, even towards their contemporaries; as to me, they looked over my thirst. He rolled on his bed from intolerable pain, head and took not the smallest notice and said, “Je suis empoisonné." His strong con- of me. I received, however, great stitution enabled him to rally, and he quite recov-kindness from a much nearer relation ered. The doctors, unable to account for his illness, said there must be a cancer. He answered, "Il n'en est rien, vous pouvez appuyer sur mon estomac. J'ai beaucoup souffert, mais je ne souffre plus." On July the 14th he took food with great appetite, spoke and moved as usual, and was perfectly at ease. He received congratulations on his recovered health on his fete day. He passed several hours every day in his garden, but in the night of the 8th-9th of August the same symptoms returned with redoubled violence, and continued till the 24th, when he died. The Comtesse de made; for although all said he had been poisoned, she could not bear to believe that her constant care had not prevented it. The body was, how Chambord would not allow an autopsie to be ever, embalmed, and that enabled the five doctors who examined it to prove at least that there had been no cancer. of Mr. Gladstone's his only sister. She was a good many years older than myself, and had often had me with her as a child in her own home; but after I grew up I met her again in Warwickshire, and was then her almost daily companion. She was a tall, fair-haired lady, with very winning manners, and by that time she had become a Roman Catholic, and was a most ardent convert; her whole conversation was on that subject, and it was her great desire to make proselytes. I went with her once to see a beautiful life-sized pic ture of the Madonna and Child by an | Grant, whose subsequent career has old master, and she fell into a sort of caused his name to be remembered trance in contemplation of it, from with distinction in the army; but I can which we had great difficulty in rousing only speak of my personal acquaintance her. She passed away several years with him when he was a young, singulater in a convent abroad, where, I be- larly attractive man, and it is as a lieve, she was living only as a boarder skilled musician that I recollect him and not as a nun. rather than as a military hero. played splendidly on the violoncello, which instrument, he gravely informed me, was his wife, and it certainly seemed to my childish intelligence as if a very remarkable union existed be He It was in Warwickshire also that I made the acquaintance of Sir John Franklin while I was still quite a child. The stout, good-humored gentleman, whose image appears before me as Itween the two. He could make it exwrite his name, is associated in my press every shade of his own feelings, mind with an event in which he took whether sad or joyful, and at that pethe keenest interest a total eclipse of riod it undoubtedly occupied much of the sun; but the amusement afforded his time and thoughts. Later, when by a rather absurd incident connected the serious work of his profession came with it, I am afraid, engrossed my upon him, I believe he discarded it childish mind more than all the scien- altogether. The last visit that I retific explanations of the phenomenon member his having paid us called forth which Sir John Franklin was so well a characteristic trait of the Scottish naqualified to give. In those primitive ture which amused him very much. days it was held that the best mode of We were spending the summer in a witnessing the obscuration of the sun country-house in Scotland, not far from was to watch it through pieces of the town where his regiment was quarsmoked glass, with which we were all tered. One Sunday afternoon, when I duly provided when we sallied forth to was playing on the lawn, I saw Sir an open piece of ground where nothing| Hope ride up to the door to call on my impeded the view. The result was that mother. Being Sunday, every one of in the course of a few minutes the our pious Scottish servants had gone to noses of every one present were se-church, excepting the cook. He had verely blackened unconsciously to dismounted and rung the bell, and I themselves and the appearance of had run up to speak to him, when she the whole scientific party was irresist-appeared in answer to the visitor's ibly comic. Sir John Franklin ap- summons. She was a great gaunt peared then so full of life and energy woman, with a decidedly stern counteand high spirits, that it was difficult to nance, who looked as if she might have think of him afterwards as the worn-faced a regiment herself without alarm, out, suffering hero of that last fatal and she scowled from under the frills voyage, which held the country in sus- of her huge cap with an expression pense as to his fate, during a period cruelly long and trying to his wife, and to all who had relations among his companions in the ice-bound vessels. One of my cousins was of the number, and I well remember the sensation in his home when some of the relics of the disastrous expedition, afterwards brought back, were identified as having belonged to him. We were at that time very intimate also with a soldier hero, Sir Hope which showed that she considered a gentleman who paid a visit on the "Sawbath" to be a most godless person. She grimly admitted that her mistress was at home, but added there was no one but herself to show him to the drawing-room. "They have all gone to the kirk, as it behoved them to do." "That does not matter," said Sir Hope; "I dare say I can find my way; but would you kindly take my horse round to the stable?" "Me!" she exclaimed, flinging up her arms with a gesture of horrified amazement | of interest in that rich treasury of the -"me touch that fearsome beast that past-wildly enthusiastic about Greece could trample me into a jelly, and on and all that it could reproduce of the the Sawbath too! No! not for a' the ancient glories he had studied in his airth!" "But, my good woman, he is scholarly youth. He had, however, perfectly quiet," Sir Hope said; "he already taken holy orders at that time, will not hurt you. I cannot leave him and he preached one Sunday to the here loose; do take him round." But very small congregation of Englishshe only answered with inflexible se- speaking people who assembled to hear verity, "No' for a' the airth! I him. His bright, earnest face and natwouldna touch yon beast at the best o' ural eloquence were very attractive; times, forby the Sawbath!" Poor Sir and we were prepared for the inevitaHope looked perplexed; he had no ble text taken from the account of St. idea where the stables were, and he Paul's visit to Athens, which was invawanted to go into the house and see his riably chosen by every English clergyfriends. I had been in fits of laughter man who addressed us from that pulpit. at the scene, but I came to the rescue. It never seemed to occur to any of "Let me take your horse," I said; "I these gentlemen that they might not be am sure he will go nicely with me." "Yes, that he will," said Sir Hope, gladly putting the bridle into my hand; he will follow you as gently as possible ;" and so he did, only, as I began to run when we started, the horse set off at a quick trot, and going a great deal faster than I could, it ended in his taking me triumphantly to the stables instead of the original arrangement, and he landed me there quite out of breath, and holding on with difficulty to the connecting bridle. The last time I ever saw Sir Hope Grant was on the occasion when he took leave of us just as we were embarking for Greece, where the next seven years of my life were spent. Many distinguished persons of various nationalities became known to us while we resided in Athens; but, as was to be expected on that classic soil, there was always a large influx of English travellers. Some amongst these, bearing well-known names, still happily survive, and may not therefore be mentioned here; but there are others who remain with us now only as illustrious memories. One of these last, with whom we had much pleasant intercourse, was Arthur Stanley, afterwards Dean of Westminster. He was young then, and distinguished by the most light-hearted buoyancy of disposition, always animated-always eager to see and know thoroughly every object the first who had hit on that appropriate theme; on the contrary, they generally looked round with an expression of serene satisfaction at their admirable choice, and we simply had to listen patiently to the slightly varied readings of a most familiar topic. When I met Dean Stanley again it was many years later in England, and the change which had passed over him was remarkable and somewhat sad. His bright vivacity was all gone, his manner subdued and quiet; but he recalled with interest many circumstances of our intercourse in the sunny days we had spent together under the cloudless skies of Greece. During the whole of one lovely spring-tide in Athens we had the society of Captain Basil Hall, an old friend of my father's, who was a clever author of some repute in those days, though his name is probably scarcely known to the present generation. He came to Greece from Palestine, where he had been spending some time with his wife and daughters, and much as he was interested in all that he saw in beautiful Hellas, we noticed a strange preoccupation in his manner, as if his mind were intensely occupied with some secret subject, which he seemed never to forget even when visiting sites that had the strongest claim on his attention. My father put our carriage at his disposal, and often drove with him to spots of which the very which I suppose hardly a specimen celestial phenomenon in the sky. He rushed to the window and looked out, but all was as usual in the darkened heavens. He extinguished his lamp, name had an indescribable charm; but could be found in these degenerate still Basil Hall would sit silent, in deep days. Suddenly he saw a mysterious thought, apparently almost unconscious light on the ceiling of his room for of his surroundings. At length one which he could not account in any way. day he revealed to my father the cause His scientific zeal was roused at once of his continual abstraction. He be- to discover the cause; it must be a lieved that during a night he had spent reflected light, perhaps from some at the Holy Sepulchre the Lord Jesus Christ had appeared to him there in visible form. He entered into very circumstantial details respecting the vision he maintained he had witnessed, thinking that its flame might have beand it was evident from his manner come singularly polarized on the ceilthat he was in a strangely excited state ing; but there was no change in the of mind. It was no surprise, there- circular light over his head except that fore, to my father, though a source of it seemed growing brighter. He tried much regret, when he heard later from every plau he could think of to explain England that Basil Hall had fallen a it, but in vain. The great man was victim to complete aberration of mind, completely puzzled -he stood gazing and did not long survive the develop- upward open-mouthed, while his acute ment of the malady. brain was intent on the mystery. Presently, however, he became aware that the receptacle in which the wise brain was enclosed had a sensation of unpleasant warmth, while an odor, apparently due to the frizzling of hair, was making itself strongly felt. voluntarily he snatched off his nightcap, and then discovered that he had set fire to the tassel thereof in bending over the lamp while engaged in an experiment, and the strange circle of light was at once explained, to his no small indignation. In Sir Walter Scott gives an admirable résumé of the history and character of Lady Davy in his journal (vol. i., p. 107), to which we may refer our readers for further details of her eccentricities. Another of my father's old friends who came to visit us in Athens was the widow of Sir Humphry Davy, a most vivacious old lady, who was much more given to sentiment than to science. I am afraid I must own that she afforded me a good deal of wicked amusement from the extremely sentimental relations she succeeded in establishing with my kind old father, to which he submitted with much patient good-humor. I think she must have been attracted by him when she had known him many years before in his youth; but she would insist on spending most of her time seated with him in a bower in the garden, and vehemently dismissed any of the junior members of the family who ventured near the favored spot. To our young At the time when we resided in eyes they seemed a very ancient couple Athens it was the home also of a splento be engaged in so romantic a flirta- did old soldier, whose name, it is to be tion; but my father met our sarcastic hoped, has not been forgotten in Encongratulations by assuring us that she gland - General Sir Richard Church. told him many good stories, and amused Previous to his residence in Greece he him very much. One of these in con- had been appointed to suppress brignection with her celebrated husband andage in Italy, and had accomplished was comical enough. Sir Humphry his onerous task with indomitable courwas alone in his room one evening age and admirable judgment. The attired in a dressing-gown and a night- most notable incidents of his striking cap, constructed on the ancient conical career have already been published in pattern, with a tassel for the apex, of the pages of "Maga," so I will speak a came back to us exclaiming, "It is General Church occupied a very high position in the estimation of those who had the pleasure of knowing him in Athens, as well as in all parts of Greece. The noble history of his past career had won for him a great reputation, and his presence was eagerly desired at court and in Athenian society generally, where the corps diplomatique and their adherents had infused a strong foreign element; but he did not desire for his company. He led a very retired life, associating almost exclusively with his friends at the English Embassy, but his name still lives in Greece as an honored memory. England lost one of her finest old soldiers when Sir Richard Church was laid in his last resting-place. of him only as we knew him refined courtly gentleman, somewhat reserved and holding aloof from general society, but charming to those whom he allowed to be his friends. To me personally, a mere young girl, he was exceptionally kind. I used to ride out every evening, and in that country an escort in addition to the groom was indispensable. During one whole year my father was unable to go with me, and, to my great delight, our ambassador, Sir Edmund (afterwards Lord) Lyons, arranged that I was to accompany him whenever he had time for his evening ride. He was a delightful companion, and nothing could exceed his good-natured kindness to me, while the pleasure of those happy evenings was enhanced by the fact that General easily lend himself to the universal Church very frequently joined us. On one occasion his characteristic energy displayed itself in an amusing little incident. As it was much too hot in Attica to go out before the sun had set, the greater part of our ride was performed in starlight only, if there was no moon to brighten our way. One night, when it seemed unusually dark, I saw Lord Lyons once again many I was riding between the two gentle- years later when he came to Oxford to men, and was startled by our horses, receive the degree of D.C.L. honoris all three, suddenly stopping and refus- causâ. He called on us after the Ening to advance an inch on the road; an cenia, and when he saw me he turned obstacle of some kind there evidently to me, saying, "Shall we take a ride was, and in the complete darkness it together to Kephissia" (a village near was unwise to force the horses to go on Athens) - he said it with a rather sad till we could ascertain what it was. smile, for since those bright days of The gentlemen called to the three my youth, long past, he had himself grooms, following each of us respec- gone through the vicissitudes of the tively, to go forward and examine the Crimean war, where he did distinmystery. Mine was an Italian, the guished service, and he felt that the other two were Greeks, but not one of weight of years would soon incapacitate them had the courage to move. They him for the active devotion to his would have faced a band of soldiers, queen and country he had always disbut a mysterious enemy, who might be played; and so it proved too soon. demoniacal, was not to be lightly en- He was most tenderly cared for at the countered by the superstitious men. last by his daughter, the Duchess of General Church gave vent to an ex- Norfolk, and passed away in strong clamation which, if they had under-faith and hope to the realms unseen. stood it, would have rendered them tolerably ashamed of themselves, and flinging himself off his horse, he put the bridle into Lord Lyons's hand and went quickly forward; then we heard him burst into a fit of laughter, and he Another notable personage who was often in Athens while we were there, seems never to have been known and appreciated for his intellectual qualities, though his position, as ultimately |
