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[Vagabondizing with Hawthorne in England in 1856] [Francis Bennoch] Hawthorne considered the London businessman, politician, and poet Francis Bennoch (1812–1890) and Henry Bright the two best friends he made in England . Bennoch and Bright facilitated the Hawthorne family’s transition from American to English life, introducing them to an ever-widening circle of acquaintances drawn from English high society, politics, and the arts; they each also delighted in showing the family their respective versions of “old” England and “new” by taking them from the storied sites of London’s great halls, cathedrals , and museums to the rural haunts made famous by Wordsworth and Coleridge. Bennoch frequently accompanied the Hawthorne family on their travels and, much as Franklin Pierce did in America, in England he always stood ready to spirit Nathaniel away on a day- or week-long jaunt through the countryside for relief from the drudgery of his consulship. In the selection that follows, Bennoch describes one of their more memorable excursions; here, the two leave from London’s Waterloo Station, “rely[ing only] upon Providence” for the necessities to sustain them on a tour that would take them to Aldershot , Albury, Tunbridge Wells, Battle, and Hastings. As a tribute to his enduring friendship toward her husband and her family, Sophia dedicated her edition of Passages from the English Note-Books of Nathaniel Hawthorne (1870) “To Francis Bennoch, . . . who, by his generous and genial hospitality and unfailing sympathy, contributed so largely . . . to render Mr. Hawthorne’s residence in England agreeable and homelike.” The full particulars of my first brief vagabondizing with Hawthorne began in this wise: I had seen him at his house at Rock Ferry, Birkenhead, he had dined with me at Manchester, and we had passed a few notes of acquaintance. Some months afterwards he came to see London, and after spending a week or so with an agreeable young man, who, however, knew little or nothing of London society, he made a formal call upon me late one afternoon, intending to return to Liverpool the next day. I never saw a man more miserable: he was hipped, depressed, and found fault with everything; [79] XZ London was detestable; it had but one merit—it was not so bad as Liverpool! I soon learned that he was not obliged to return at once, so I proposed that at two o’clock the next afternoon he should meet me at Waterloo Station, and rely upon Providence for the rest! He did not quite see the good of that, but nevertheless agreed to come. It happened that my friend of several years, Captain Shaw, now of the Fire Brigade, was then at Aldershot, attached to, and one of the captains of, the North Cork Rifles. He had often asked me to visit him a few days, and now there seemed a chance. So I wrote to tell him I was coming and who would accompany me,also the train by which he might expect us.True to time Hawthorne and I met,and away we whirled,he never asking where to! The fresh air seemed to revive him.When we reached Farnboro’Shaw was on the platform, his carriage and servants outside, so I said, “Come along, Hawthorne! There’s a fellow I know, and we may as well stop here as go farther , and I know we shall be treated well!” A single word gave Shaw the cue, and off we drove. As we entered the camp, Hawthorne opened his eyes in amazement; soon we pulled up at an officers’ hut, which, with a servant for each, was placed at our disposal. After wandering about for an hour or so, he manifestly wondering still, we returned to dress for dinner, which was lavish in every respect, and the wine superb. Hawthorne was placed on the right of the Colonel,a jovial Irishman,while Shaw and I sat opposite.The anecdotes were numerous and racy; Hawthorne’s health was drank, being introduced in a manner most gratifying by one of the officers familiar with all his works, and who quoted some of the powerful sentences of The Scarlet Letter. Hawthorne was in ecstasy, and the smallest hour of the morning had come and been followed by its neighbor before we retired. We remained at Aldershot three days, driving around the beautiful neighborhood and finishing up by witnessing a field day, or grand inspection of the entire force in camp, by the Duke of Cambridge. All this was so entirely...

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