man is surely to be cherished. knows by what vows I was bound; travelled. Some are now reposing on

He of literature to mark the path I have

will he ever believe that I was forced by any circumstances to break all the ties that bound me to love and to honor?"

Seeing him affected to tears by this, I contented myself with saying: "It is 'your duty to dismiss regrets which are now useless, and which henceforth dishonor you. I leave you to the care of a wife who needs no words of mine to reconcile you to your good fortune, and if Rose will be guided by my advice, we shall soon rejoin you."

the book-shelves of a dignitary of the Church in an island off the coast of Normandy. Some are in the Theolog ical Library of the Jesuit fathers at Monaco. Some are in Italy, some in the Riviera, some in Switzerland. Among those which still remain to me are some quaint volumes — early editions of Ruskin, "Letters from the Dead to the Living," "The Tale of a Tub," bearing on its title-page the autograph of "Thomas Sheers," the father of the brothers Sheers who were executed for high treason in 1798, and many other curious volumes, not the least interesting of which, at this moment, is an early edition of Tennyson, containing a

Before taking leave of Sara and Dilnich it was agreed that my brother should assume the style and title of Earl C- as head of the family. George was not likely to return to Ire- frontispiece, pasted into it, drawn in land, and I felt sure of his approval. I pen and ink by the hand of Alfred saluted Sara, therefore, as Countess Tennyson in 1839; and beside it an old C- and I was extremely civil to brown manuscript journal, dated 1839– Lord Lynch, though I prevented his 1840, written by the donor of this literan intimate having any communication with Pat-ary bequest, who was rick, assuring him that my brother was friend of the Tennysons. From this not yet sufficiently recovered for con- journal I extract the following pages,. versation. Then I occupied myself which I have read with considerable solely with preparations for my jour- interest, and which, as all the actors in this curious and romantic episode recorded are now dead, I may, without indiscretion, publish.


From Blackwood's Magazine. A VISIT TO THE TENNYSONS IN 1839. I know that I shall be ripped open like a pig.


As a prefatory explanation, I should mention that at the time when thejournal was commenced Mrs. Neville and Louisa Lanesborough were deeply and lovingly attached friends living in Guernsey. The former, who was con

Alas, my lord, you must pay the penalty of fame. sumptive, was going with her little

B. T.

daughter Laura to pay a visit to the SOME little time ago I came into pos- Tennysons at Beech Hill, and to consession (through the death of a friend) sult the well-known Dr. Curie in Lonof a library of about two thousand vol- don; but she was not strong enough to umes. I am not a bookworm, though I travel alone, and not rich enough to am fond of books, not only for their engage the services of a nurse or a own sake, but on account of the good maid. In the emergency Louisa Lanesthey may do in safe hands, when judi- borough volunteered, in her romantic ciously used. I have accordingly, devotion to her friend, to disguise herthough frequently urged, always re-self as a Guernsey servant, and to fused to sell any of this very hetero-accompany her in the seeming capacity geneous, miscellaneous collection of of nurse and attendant. This she acvolumes, but have somewhat unwisely, complished very cleverly, without the from a pecuniary point of view, carried knowledge of even her own father, who the greater part of them about with me was a general officer residing on his in my wanderings, and have left a trail estate in the island,—she having, how

ever, obtained his permission to pay a | to the appellation, and sent to say that visit to some friends in England. I was well. Then, as night came on, I went down into the fore-cabin, quite astonished at its size and comfort, really as good as the ladies', if not better. I got into a nice berth, was not very ill, and suffered most from anxiety about Mimosa.

How she carried out her intention, and the extraordinary risks she ran, and the hairbreadth escapes she had when leaving home in her disguise, are duly recorded in the journal; but not being of such general interest as the part she played among her friends the Tennysons, I shall omit them, and begin my extracts on the 11th March, 1839, the day on which, in her assumed character and her assumed name Marion Langlais - she began her romantic adventure, which is here recorded day by day.

I should further mention that at this time there existed a friendly literary artistic clique, entitling themselves "The Husks," among whom Mary and Emily Tennyson, and Louisa Lanesborough and Mary Neville, were conspicuous, and one of whose poetic idols, even at this early period of his career, was Alfred Tennyson. These "Husks" had in use among themselves a peculiar parlance, and we find such words as deadly" (meaning thrilling), "shuckling (a familiar chat), "slothing" (a sweet do-nothing in the twilight), which were in constant use among the initiated.


This explanation is necessary to make clear what might otherwise be unintelligible in the following extracts from Louisa Lanesborough's journal, which begin (on board the ship in Guernsey Harbor):

"11th March, 1839. I was off, actually off, on my wild adventure, and almost free from fear of detection. On board I watched and waited impatiently for a sign of the dear expected things, even to the last boat. Oh! what if anything had prevented their coming, if I missed them after all? But no! Dr. Hoskins carrying Laura, and dear Mimosa (Mrs. Neville) following, set my heart at ease. We could give no sign, but it was enough to have seen her; and almost immediately the steamer set off with at least two bewildered, excited beings on board. By and by the stewardess came to inquire for Mrs. Neville's servant; I answered


Morning dawned; at five o'clock we arrived in Southampton in a fog and misty rain. I went down to my mistress, who gave me her shawls, etc., to take care of and see after the coach, which I did, and getting in, we drove to the Castle Inn. Here a fire was lighted in the bedroom and sittingroom, and I ordered hers and Miss Laura's breakfast, at which I served them-and how odd it felt! - and then went down to the inn kitchen for mine, which was comfortably laid out, and I had a slice of fried bacon to eat with it. After this I settled my mistress on the sofa, and got my work till it was time to go to the custom-house with Mr. Luce. Here I was ordered about in a way that somewhat astonished me; but I passed the things, and sat and worked, able to talk away in French as fast as I pleased, and having famous chats. I had great trouble to help laughing, still more to help petting and kissing my mistress,' who was likewise constantly calling me Louisa' instead of 'Marion.' Laura remarked, 'Mamma, does not Marion remind you of Louisa Lanesborough ? They speak alike,' but saw no other resemblance; and the next day she said, 'Marion is not like Louisa in face, only something like her when she speaks.' At dinner-time, to stand behind Mimosa's chair and hand the plates, etc., was quite too much for our risible faculties. This whole day was an uneasy apprenticeship for the coming duties. Miss Murray called, and others, which excited and fatigued dear Mimosa, and she would not or could not go to bed with restlessness and pain. She wrote to Charley (her brother), and I to Mary Tennyson; but dark things came over us both, and we froissé'd one another to tears fools that we were! ingeniously distill

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ing the bitterest drops from trifles, or from sorrows loathsome enough already! One and two o'clock struck, I believe, ere we separated for bed.

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and put her to bed; then tea for my mistress, and waited on her; and then went down to get my own. I was tired and hungry enough to enjoy it and be quite refreshed, so I brushed her hair. A note came from Emily Tennyson, and she went to bed and slept a little.

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"Thursday. We left in the Red Rover for London, and now I began to feel the coming reality of my new life; before I had only dreamed of it. We "The next morning I got her breakwere less inclined to laugh at each fast, and dressed Miss Laura, which other, and less often mistook names was scarcely done when Miss Tennyand persons. Dear Mimosa was very son came up. How nervous it made tired. A hedge of double and single me! I dared not speak or look, and snowdrops on the road cheered her, when obliged to answer, it was bolted and I gathered some for her. Rode on out for fear of laughing. At length, to the outside for a little time; but it was my joy, Mimosa sent me out to put a so bitterly cold that I could not for letter in the post; and though it was long, and got in again. The evening raining, and a dirty, foggy, rainy day. advanced so fast that we entered Lon- in London, yet I enjoyed my ramble. don by gaslight, rattling on through Going in an omnibus to Bishopsgate the crowded streets, and my heart Street, took our places for Beech Hill, keeping time with the wheels as I drew and then to the General Post-franked near the place where we expected to a letter for Charles-called at Scemeet the. Tennysons. Stopping at ley's 1 and so on till about three Hatchett's Hotel, Piccadilly, she aux- o'clock. It was then time to think of iously inquired if any one was come going. Miss Tennyson took leave; for for her? No-no one. This upset to my great vexation I found that Mrs. her, for she hoped to reach Beech Hill Tennyson, Alfred, Frederick, and all that evening. And now, whilst I col- but Mary, Cecilia, and Miss Fytch, lected the trunks and packages and were away from home. This was vexLaura, dear Mimosa was half wild with atious, yet still it was Beech Hill, the excitement and irritation, noways les- Tenuysons' home. sened when, after all the fuss and "On our way from Loudon, Mimosa annoyance, she found that she had told me that Emily had taken quite a mistaken the place, and it was at fancy to me as Marion;' said I was the Golden Cross, Charing Cross, that'so neat, and active, and intelligent, Mary Tennyson was waiting for her!! she longed to have just such a one!' So I called a coach, got her in, bag and This comforted me a little; but oh! baggage, drove to the Golden Cross, was I not nervous and strange as the and eagerly inquired for Miss Tenny- coach drove nearer and nearer and son. Yes, they had been there, but stopped! Mimosa received with ecwere gone. Really it was dreadful! stasy in the parlor, aud I, for the first But as there was no alternative a room time feeling an inferior, sent into the was ordered, and Mimosa shown up, kitchen, and then going up into my while I got the things and discharged mistress's room, unpacking the truuks, the man. To my horror I found she and laying out her things, making the had been dragged up four pairs of room quite comfortable before she stairs she who was so weak that one came up, and I was called to tea, was too many; and exhausted and The kitchen is a nice one, with such wretched and ill was she indeed. The a fine fire, and three nice, cleanpeople, too, so uncivil, so careless and looking English maidservants, rude and inattentive! Was I not glad to be as Marion' then, with the power and privilege of getting and doing for her all that she wanted! After the fire was lighted I got tea for Miss Laura

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1 Seeley was Louisa Lanesborough's publisher,

and she was at this time bringing out a book. Observer, and wrote and illustrated a number of Subsequently she contributed to the Intellectual scientific works. - B. T.


cook, Mary, and Ann, -and John in | mistress's fire, and then I fell asleep livery. They were very polite and again till the breakfast-bell rang. kind, and really so much higher than hurried on my things, and was soon our servants, it seemed. I felt very down, and made a capital breakfast, awkward, afraid of speaking lest I and explained how it was that I was so should betray myself; and then my late and hadn't slept with Ann, ''cause dress felt strange, and the hair and missus wasn't well in the night.' Then the cap, etc. I was glad to be called I came up, and dressed Miss Laura, to undress the young lady. That and brushed mistress's hair, whilst night I went down to supper at nine Miss Mary Tennyson came in to chat a o'clock, milk and water and bread and little before she went down. As misbutter; and when the Tennysons had tress did not feel inclined for her teawished Mimosa good-night, how much breakfast, I settled her room till they we had to tell! I slept with the went to church at eleven o'clock. There housemaid very soundly, for I was was I, Marion, in my red apron and very tired." thick cap, sitting between Mimosa and Louisa used to tell in after years of Mary Tennyson, having to arrange her horror when, on being shown to Miss Cecilia's collar, and listened to "her room" that night, she found that myself being talked of, whilst they little she was to share the housemaid's bed; dreamt how near L. L.' was to them. for apart even from the unwelcome I got mistress's breakfast, and then companionship, she feared to fall asleep read to her; till they came from lest the black "front" of coarse hair church we were together, but then I which she wore should slip aside dur- went and got her some lunch, and our ing the night, and reveal her own long, dinner being ready, we servants sat fair tresses beneath! So she lay down to cold roast-beef and hot dumpawake, half undressed, with the net ling. I ate enormously, and was so cap and black false hair most uncom-hungry, and then made haste up to fortably covering her hot head, until mistress with a hot bottle for her feet. good-natured Ann-secretly wonder- She desired me to take it into the paring, no doubt, at the "foreign person's ways -was snoring soundly; and then, overcome with drowsiness, she also fell into a profound sleep.

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lor, which I did, with pillows, and made her comfortable. All the afternoon I was able to read and write alone upstairs, only having Miss Laura to hear "Saturday. Got up; at half past read and say Psalm 145: she was so seven went into my mistress's room good and steady it is quite unnatural and took down the candlesticks. Break- having her so. At four o'clock brushed fast was ready, and I took it. I see and combed her hair for dinner, during they are greatly amused at my for- which I was again alone till near six, eign appearance, and seem to wonder when my mistress came up to be at my speaking English so well. They'Mimosa' for a while, and I was called asked me many questions about my to tea, after which I got Miss Laura's country and my mistress; but they milk and water and made her a piece are nice, respectable, well-conducted of toast, and heard her say her hymns. servants, as far as I can see, and John Mistress came to curl her hair, and does not venture to speak to me. went down again; and I was dreadMrs. Neville was horrified when fully sleepy and tired, so much so that Louisa unfolded her tale of how the after a vain attempt to read and write I night had been spent, and they agreed fell fast asleep in the great chair, that "Marion" should sleep with her roused only by the sound of coming "mistress "' for the future, on the voices, ' mistress,' and Miss Mary, and plea of requiring attendance during the Miss Cecilia. I was desired to brush night. her hair, which I did, whilst Cecilia read Alfred's poetry, Break, break, break!" out loud, and talked ‘husky,'


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Sunday, 16.-Was roused by the tap at the door of Ann coming to light

but not for long. They saw that she was dreadfully tired, and left her; but she would not go to bed, and talked away till very late, when I crept into bed with her, and slept as sound as a rock.

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Monday. - The eight o'clock breakfast-bell rang as I was going downstairs; but it was the bell only, for breakfast was not nearly ready; but as eight o'clock is the appointed hour, and the mistress desires the bell to ring that she may know when they do breakfast, the cook rings, and is satisfied. We did not wait very long, and I hurried up to dress Miss Laura, after which I dressed Mimosa; and as Mary Tennyson came in, I went to get her breakfast. She is always weak and languid in the morning, and the wind N.E. increased her pain in the chest. She is not better yet, at any rate, and I fancy her even weaker. Thank God I am near her! Yet how shall I write to them in Guernsey?

"I went out to gather cones for Miss Laura to-day, and in emptying her mamma's basket I found the lost ring. I was so delighted; and when I was sent for to change the bottle at my mistress's feet, I told her. I had then to fetch her some water to wash her hands, got the tray, and a finger-glass with warm water, and a towel over my arm as I stood beside her, Mary Tennyson looking at me, and Cecilia also. Oh how little they suspected me. And this morning, when bringing up her breakfast of tea instead of isinglass milk, says Mary, 'If Louisa Lanesborough was here, she'd make you take the milk!' 'No,' says Mimosa, she wouldn't!' And then they went on talking of me as one far away, even whilst I touched her and looked at her. I do wonder that she does not recognize my voice!

"Cecilia's reading Alfred's deadly poetry of Break, break, break,' made me write a few verses in the same style of deadliness:

Howl! howl! howl!

On thy voiceless way, thou wind! Unseen save only by the track

Of waste and woe behind.

Over the earth pass on

With free untiring wing,
But howl with a voice of wailing,
Thou wild and deadly thing!

For the world is a place of sorrow,
Of weeping and of woe,

And paved with torn and broken hearts
Of those who dwell below.

Howl! as thou passest onward
Over the restless sea,

For the ocean of tears all measured
In the fount of misery.

Oh! the earth is disturbed in its rest
When thou passest on thy way,
Shaking the early dewdrops
From every leafless spray.

But howl! howl! howl!

Thy voice is a solemn knell
O'er the tomb which lies all silently
In my dark soul's secret cell.

L. L.

"Tuesday, March 18. The weather was so fine that I thought this a good opportunity to go to Waltham, and when I had given Mimosa her breakfast I asked leave to go, which was granted; but by the time that she was down, and her luncheon and my dinner over, it was rather late. I set off with my little panier au bras, and walked to Waltham Abbey, on a dreary, uninteresting road of about three miles. It was market-day; there was very little to admire except the old wing of the abbey. I made my purchases and returned home as quickly as I could, so tired that I could scarcely move. Went to report myself in the parlor and give Miss Fytch her ink, and was desired to refill the hot bottle and rub my mistress's legs, which I did. She made Mary Tennyson read out Wordsworth's odes, and Cecilia Alfred's ballad of the 'Ladye of Burleigh.' I was almost too tired to enjoy it, but got refreshed after my tea, and read and wrote a little till ten o'clock, when I went and told my mistress it was bedtime, got her some supper which she would not eat, and then made her some tea."

And now came what we may call a new act in this strange little drama. "Friday, 21st March. — My first day

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