We left Washington about noon, lunched on the train,
and reached the old ancestral home in a snow storm.
All of the available carriages and carry-alls were
at our disposal, however, and we were quickly driven
to the warm fireside of a true Southerner, who, more
than any other kind of man, knows how to brand the
word “Home” upon your memory. We dined
with true Southern sumptuousness. Never shall
I forget the resigned and comfortable expression of
that little roast pig as it was laid before us.
To the Englishmen it was a rare chance to understand
the cordial relations between England and America,
in an atmosphere of Colonial splendour. The house
itself has not undergone any change since it was built;
it stands a complete example of an old ancestral estate.
As we were leaving, our host insisted that no friend
should leave his house without tasting the best egg-nog
ever made in Virginia. The doctor and I drove
to the station in a carriage with Lord Herschel.
He was a man of great reserve and high breeding.
On the way he showed us a letter that he had just
received from his daughter, a little girl in England,
telling him to be sure and come home for the Christmas
holidays, and not to let those rich Americans keep
him away.
This was the beginning of a series of dinners given
by members of the Joint High Commission in Washington
during the winter, to which we were often invited.
A few months later Lord Herschel died in Washington.
Dr. Talmage was almost the last man to see him alive.
He called at his hotel to invite him to stay at his
house, but he was then too ill to be moved.
During the early Fall of 1898 the Doctor lectured
at Annapolis. It was his first visit to the old
historic town, and he was received with all the honour
of the place. We were the guests of Governor Lowndes
at the executive mansion, where we were entertained
in the evening at dinner. Just before the Christmas
holidays, Dr. Talmage made a short lecturing trip
into Canada, and I went with him; it was my privilege
to accompany him everywhere, even for a brief journey
of a day.
In Montreal, while sitting in a box with some Canadian
friends, during one of the Doctor’s lectures,
they told me how deep was the affection and regard
for him in England.
“Wait till you see how the English people receive
him,” they said; “you will be surprised
at the hold that he has on them over there.”
The following year I went to England with him, and
experienced with pride and pleasure the truth of what
they had said.
The end of our first year together seemed to be only
the prelude to a long lifetime of companionship and
happiness, without age, without sorrow, without discord.
