Sunday morning brought me a cordial letter from Mr. Grenfell, introducing me to the bishop. I wrote a note to his lordship, saying I should be glad to have an opportunity to see Bradford's history; that I was to sail for the United States the next Wednesday, but would be pleased to call at Fulham Tuesday, if that were agreeable to him.
I got a note in reply, in which he said if I would call on Tuesday he would be happy to show me "The Log of the Mayflower," which is the title the English, without the slightest reason in the world, give the manuscript. I kept the appointment, and found the bishop with the book in his hand. He received me with great courtesy, showed me the palace, and said that that spot had been occupied by a bishop's palace for more than a thousand years.
After looking at the volume and reading the records on the flyleaf, I said: "My lord, I am going to say something which you may think rather audacious. I think this book ought to go back to Massachusetts. Nobody knows how it got over here. Some people think it was carried off by Governor Hutchinson, the Tory governor; other people think it was carried off by British soldiers when Boston was evacuated; but in either case the property would not have changed. Or, if you treat it as a booty, in which last case, I suppose, by the law of nations ordinary property does change, no civilized nation in modern times applies that principle to the property of libraries and institutions of learning."
"Well," said the bishop, "I did not know you cared anything about it."
"Why," said I, "if there were in existence in England a history of King Alfred's reign for thirty years, written by his own hand, it would not be more precious in the eyes of Englishmen than this manuscript is to us."
"Well," said he, "I think myself it ought to go back, and if it had depended on me it would have gone back before this. But the Americans who have been here—many of them have been commercial people—did not seem to care much about it except as a curiosity. I suppose I ought not to give it up on my own authority. It belongs to me in my official capacity, and not as private or personal property. I think I ought to consult the Archbishop of Canterbury. And, indeed," he added, "I think I ought to speak to the Queen about it. We should not do such a thing behind Her Majesty's back."
I said: "Very well. When I go home I will have a proper application made from some of our literary societies, and ask you to give it consideration."
I saw Mr. Bayard again, and told him the story. He was at the train when I left London for the steamer at Southampton. He entered with great interest into the matter, and told me again he would gladly do anything in his power to forward it.
When I got home I communicated with Secretary Olney about it, who took a kindly interest in the matter, and wrote to Mr. Bayard that the administration desired he should do everything in his power to promote the application. The matter was then brought to the attention of the council of the American Antiquarian Society, the Massachusetts Historical Society, the Pilgrim Society of Plymouth and the New England Society of New York. These bodies appointed committees to unite in the application. Governor Wolcott was also consulted, who gave his hearty approbation to the movement, and a letter was dispatched through Mr. Bayard.
Meantime Bishop Temple, with whom I had my conversation, had himself become Archbishop of Canterbury, and in that capacity Primate of all England. His successor, Rev. Dr. Creighton, had been the delegate of John Harvard's College to the great celebration at Harvard University on the two hundred and fiftieth anniversary of its foundation, in 1886. He had received the degree of doctor of laws from the university, had been a guest of President Eliot, and had received President Eliot as his guest in England.
He is an accomplished historical scholar, and very friendly in sentiment to the people of the United States. So, by great fortune, the two eminent ecclesiastical personages who were to have a powerful influence in the matter were likely to be exceedingly well disposed. Dr. Benjamin A. Gould, the famous mathematician, was appointed one of the committee of the American Antiquarian Society. He died suddenly, just after a letter to the Bishop of London was prepared and about to be sent to him for signing. He took a very zealous interest in the matter. The letter formally asked for the return of the manuscript, and was signed by the following-named gentlemen: George F. Hoar, Stephen Salisbury, Edward Everett Hale, Samuel A. Green, for the American Antiquarian Society; Charles Francis Adams, William Lawrence, Charles W. Eliot, for the Massachusetts Historical Society; Arthur Lord, William M. Evarts, William T. Davis, for the Pilgrim Society of Plymouth; Charles C. Beaman, Joseph H. Choate, J. Pierpont Morgan, for the New England Society of New York; Roger Wolcott, Governor of Massachusetts.
The rarest good fortune seems to have attended every step in this transaction.
I was fortunate in having formed the friendship of Mr. Grenfell, which secured to me so cordial a reception from the Bishop of London.
It was fortunate that the Bishop of London was Dr. Temple, an eminent scholar, kindly disposed toward the people of the United States, and a man thoroughly capable of understanding and respecting the deep and holy sentiment which a compliance with our desire would gratify.
It was fortunate, too, that Bishop Temple, who thought he must have the approbation of the archbishop before his action, when the time came had himself become Archbishop of Canterbury and Primate of all England.
It was fortunate that Dr. Creighton had succeeded to the see of London. He is, himself, as I have just said, an eminent historical scholar. He has many friends in America. He was the delegate of Emmanuel, John Harvard's College, at the great Harvard centennial celebration in 1886. He received the degree of doctor of laws at Harvard and is a member of the Massachusetts Historical Society. He had, as I have said, entertained President Eliot as his guest in England.
It was fortunate, too, that the application came in a time of cordial good-will between the two countries, when the desire of John Adams and the longing of George III. have their ample and complete fulfilment. This token of the good-will of England reached Boston on the eve of the birthday of the illustrious sovereign, who is not more venerated and beloved by her own subjects than by the kindred people across the sea.
THE ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY.
It comes to us at the time of the rejoicing of the English people at the sixtieth anniversary of a reign more crowded with benefit to humanity than any other known in the annals of the race. Upon the power of England, the sceptre, the trident, the lion, the army and the fleet, the monster ships of war, the all-shattering guns, the American people are strong enough now to look with an entire indifference. We encounter her commerce and her manufacture in the spirit of a generous emulation. The inheritance from which England has gained these things is ours also. We, too, are of the Saxon strain.
In our halls is hung
Armory of the invincible knights of old.
Our temple covers a continent, and its porches are upon both the seas. Our fathers knew the secret to lay, in Christian liberty and law, the foundations of empire. Our young men are not ashamed, if need be, to speak with the enemy in the gate.
But to the illustrious lady, type of gentlest womanhood, model of mother and wife and friend, who came at eighteen to the throne of George IV. and William; of purer eyes than to behold iniquity; the maiden presence before which everything