In the party who were going down to-day were Mr. and Mrs. Binney, Mr.
Sherman, and a number of distinguished names; among whom I recollect
to have heard the names of Lady Hatherton, and Lady Byron, widow of
the poet. This would have been an exceedingly interesting scene to us,
but being already worn with company and excitement, we preferred a
quiet day at Windsor.
For if we took Warwick as the representative feudal estate, we took
Windsor as the representative palace, that which imbodies the English
idea of royalty. Apart from this, Windsor has been immortalized by the
Merry Wives; it has still standing in its park the Herne oak, where
the mischievous fairies played their pranks upon old Falstaff.
And the castle still has about it the charm of the poet's
invocation:--
"Search Windsor Castle, elves, within, without,
Strew good luck, ouphes, on every sacred room,
That it may stand till the perpetual doom
In state as wholesome as in state 'tis fit,
Worthy the owner, and the owner it.
The several chairs of order, look you, scour
With juice of balm and every precious flower,
Each fair instalment, coat, and several crest,
With loyal blazon evermore be blest.
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