Eastbourne Memories - A Victorian Perspective

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66                   Old Memories of East-Bourne. [Chap. V.
Mayo, the Governor-General of India who was assas­sinated. Mr. Bourke, a man large in mind as well as in body, proved a very pleasant visitor, and our acquaintance with him and his wife (a daughter of Archbishop Longley), was kept up till his death. An amusing story attaches to a visit which my wife and I paid some years later to their Rectory at Pulborough. In order to make it understood I must submit a little preface. In 1877, I was commissioned by Stanford the Publisher to write a Guide-book for Sussex. For the purpose of doing so, it was necessary for me to have another opportunity of seeing Lord Zouche's house at Parham, which I had not visited for some years and which was let to an Australian wool dealer named Newton. Accordingly I wrote to Mr. Newton to ask him kindly to name a day when I might pay his house (not him) a visit. I received in reply a curt and rude refusal. As the opportunity of inspecting Parham was important for the purposes of my book, I renewed my request in obsequious language only to receive in reply a still more offensive refusal. Nothing daunted, I went to the owner Lord Zouche in London to seek his friendly intervention which was promptly and willingly given, but all in vain. Wool would have nothing to do with literature. Now comes in the Bourke part of the tale. Lunching at Pulborough Rectory on October 6, 1883, Mr. Bourke said, " Would you like a drive anywhere ? " My reply was prompt and decisive, " Let us go and see Parham." I told him of my previous failures to get inside there and he said " All right, we will go. They are always very coming to any visitors we take over.'* I may sum up the result in Caesar's words " Veni, Vidi, Vici! ': We were received with the utmost effusiveness, and my wife and I were sent all over the house under the escort of Miss Wool, after which we had tea with Mrs. Wool. Just as we were preparing to depart, Mr. Wool arrived from London. I only hope that he remembered my name and his churlish letters of 1877.
Mr. Bourke gave me an interesting reminiscence of the Empress Frederick. He was staying at Homburg,
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