Atlantic States -- Description and travel; Kemble, Fanny, 1809-1893; United States -- Social life and customs -- 1783-1865
enchanted me.[38] There is one thing in which I do not believe my father
ever has been, or ever will be, excelled; his high and noble bearing,
his gallant, graceful, courteous deportment; his perfect good-breeding
on the stage; unmarked alike by any peculiarity of time, place, or self
(except peculiar grace and beauty). He appears to me the beau ideal of
the courtly, thorough-bred, chivalrous gentleman, from the days of the
admirable Crichton down to those of George the Fourth. Coming home after
the play, the marble buildings in the full moonlight reminded me of the
Ghost in Hamlet: they looked like pale majestic spirits, cold, calm, and
colourless.
_Thursday, 11th._
Rose rather late. After breakfast, wrote journal; at twelve, went to
rehearsal.
* * * * *
* * * * *
After rehearsal, came home, habited, and went to the riding-school to
try some horses. _Merci de moi!_ what quadrupeds! How they did wallop
and shamble about; poor half-broken dumb brutes! they know no better;
and as the natives here are quite satisfied with their shuffling,
rollicking, mongrel pace, half trot, half canter, why it is not worth
while to break horses in a christian-like fashion for them.[39] I found
something that I think my father can ride with tolerable comfort, but
must go again to-morrow and see after something for myself. Came home:
the enchanting Mr. Head has allowed me a piano-forte; but in bringing it
into the room, the stupid slave broke one of its legs off, whereat I was
like to faint, for I thought Mr. Head would wish me hanged therefor.
Nothing can exceed the civility of the people here, and the house is
extremely well kept, quiet, and comfortable. Came home in high delight
with this Quaker city, which is indeed very pretty and pleasant. Played
on the piano: dressed for dinner. After dinner, practised till tea-time,
finished journal, discussed metaphysics with D----, for which I am a
fool; wrote to-day's journal, and now to bed. I have a dreadful cold and
cough, and have done nothing but hack and snivel the whole day long:
this is a bad preparation for to-morrow's work. Howsoever----
_Friday, 12th._
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