Name/Title
AU Harris, Nellie Lois - 1910-01-23 letter to William and Loretta (Adams) LambertEntry/Object ID
1990.1.417Context
Dear Uncle Ottie and Aunt Lora,
I'll address a tribal note on to you. It is almost unsafe to pick up a pen lest I should write clear on into next week; it is perfectly tantalizing to write under such circumstances. But tempus fugit as she has a way of doing. And in a few days, probably this week, we follow her example, and are off at last for the continent, later than we had expected. We had a hard time deciding where we should go; it is enough to nearly drive one wild to study a map of the "neighborhood" over here; it seems the whole world is at your door, and one wants everything in sight. But they tell us we have decided upon a rich little trip; how is this: Across to Holland first, Rotterdam, The Hague, Amsterdam and Utrecht, then down to Cologne, Frankfurt, Heidelberg, Nuremberg, Munich, Innsbruck, through the Tyrolean Alps (alas, we cannot scale an Alp at this time of year) to Venice, Bologna, Florence, Pisa, Genoa, Milan, through Switzerland lengthwise, Lucerne, Bale, then on to Paris and home to London via Rouen & Dieppe. It will take about four or five weeks unless we stop at Heidelberg or Munich to work a while. We gave up pushing on to Berlin. I am sorry chiefly on account of missing cousin Earl whom we had counted on looking up there. I was going to write to his mother, but have forgotten her address, so would you be so kind as to tell her for me some time? We are disappointed, for Arthur and I had counted on a pleasant time with him in the land of strangers. I hope his time is as happy as ours.
It will be with regret that we leave old London behind next spring, and yet it will seem so good to get back to Uncle Sam's soil and ways, and to the people who are really our own. You know they say time is measured by events, not days. In that way it really seems like about tow years since we left home. It now seems quite probable that I shall remain for perhaps six weeks later than Arthur to finish up some library work at the British Museum and Oxford. He will return the latter part of March.
It is certainly a great privilege to have access to such libraries as these; it is a strange inspiration. The Oxford library was re-established in about 1544 (destroyed for political reasons before that), and several of the colleges date back to the twelve hundreds. It is a wonderful little city of towers and bells and hoary old walls. How could it be otherwise with its 24 colleges of such venerable ages. Part of the cathedral, where we went to church, dates back to 729, and there are some delightful little Saxon towers there of unknown date. A part of the old city wall is preserved, as it was built, in a college garden.
We lived in a students quarters in a musty old house with a Gothic cellar of the 13th century under it - a beautiful little network of arches it was, while just across the street was the old church where Wykoff stirred up trouble here as Luther did in Germany, and where Cranmer, Ridley & Latimer were tried & condemned to be burned outside the city gates. We came home from church there one evening & found we had been sitting by the pillar to which they were chained in trial. Down at the next corner, in clear view from our windows, was Carfax, the Saxon tower remaining of the old church where Shakespeare stood sponsor to sir somebody; & also the scene of the old mediaeval Town & Gown riots, etc., etc., unending. No wonder we never cared much for history, out on the high and dry plains; one cannot help devouring it when we have the places & works before us. The part of it that again and again seems to us a shame is that we cannot be sharing a lot of them with thte many home folks.
So you are having winter in earnest? And meat strikes, too. We have done enough shivering in England for two American winters, but had the first snow to cover the ground this morning. Boo, we shall freeze in the Alps one day and melt in Italy the next!
Heartiest good wishes for 1910 to all. The miles are long, but it is only a little way to you in thoughts. And nothing improves Europe so much as letters from the homeland as we have enjoyed.
Yours as ever,
Nellie L. Harris.
Jan. 23.
Love to all
3 South Hill Park
Hampstead,
London, N.W.
Our address for all winter remains the same.
