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Travellers' Stories by Eliza Lee Cabot Follen
page 23 of 40 (57%)
An English country home, where education, high breeding, easy
circumstances, old trees, room enough, and a merry family circle,
make life beautiful--this had always been one of my dreams of
earthly happiness. All this was realized at Mrs. C--'s, at Chobham,
where I stopped for a visit on my way to London.

Every day my kind friends devised some little plan for my amusement,
beyond the constant pleasure of the every-day life. One day they
took me to Windsor, which, you know, is one of the queen's country
palaces. We approached it through the famous avenue of elms in the
park. The effect of the castle, seen through that long, long vista,
is very fine. The English elm, though not so graceful as ours, is
more grand and stately, and better for architectural effects. There
were many deer in the park, which added much to its beauty. At last
we were at the castle; it is a fine building, but would be far more
picturesque in ruins than in its present perfect state. We went
first into the chapel; this is exquisitely beautiful. The Gothic
clusters of pillars springing up from the floor rise unbroken to the
roof, and spread out like palm trees. The emblazoned coats of arms
of the knights of the garter hanging all around on the pillars of
the chapel, the beautiful carved ornaments like lace-work, and many
other rare and lovely objects, make the royal chapel very
magnificent. There was a horrible old woman who went screeching
about the room, showing the pictures, &c. She was particularly
apropos in calling us, when she found we were Americans, into a
corner of the chapel to show us the tomb of Lord Harcourt, who is
there represented receiving the sword of some unfortunate American
general, and shrieked out with her cracked voice, "I thought this
might interest you."

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