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GUY'S CLIFF.

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LETTER X.

STRATFORD-ON-AVON, AND BLENHEIM PARK,

Guy's Cliff, a seat of Mr. Percy-Description of the grounds and mansion-Paintings by Bertie Greatheed, Esquire-Portrait of Mrs. Percy-Drive to Stratford-The landlady-House of Shakspeare's birth-Autographs of visitors-Parish clerk, and visit to the church-Tomb of Shakspeare-Journey to Woodstock-Blenheim park and palace-Present Duke of Marlborough-Arrival at Windsor.

DEAR VIRGINIA,

Castle Inn, Windsor,
June 8th, 1832.

IN our approach to Warwick, yesterday, I caught a momentary glimpse, a mile or two from the town, of a spacious castellated building, in the distance, on one hand. It was screened, however, almost immediately again from sight, by the thick foliage of the road side; and I had almost forgotten the circumstance, when another vista presented a second and nearer, but equally fleeting, view of the same structure, and the grounds around-coming upon the eye in a vision of taste and loveliness, which reminded me, in its lights and shades, its colouring and its bloom, beneath a summer's sun, of paintings I have seen, in which the fancied beauties of Paradise have been attempted to be portrayed.

The post-boy could give us no information concerning it; but, on being set down at "the Swan," we learned it to be Guy's Cliff, the property of a

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BEAUTIES OF NATURE AND

Percy, of the family of Northumberland, in right of his wife, an heiress and neice of the late Duke of Ancaster. When at Liverpool, Mr. Ogden and other gentlemen had said to us, "by all means visit Guy's Cliff, when at Warwick." Till now, however, I had thought of it in association with the name, and had intended to inquire for it, only, as some point or offset of country, affording a fine or romantic prospect.

Though almost weary with the sight-seeing of the day, the impression left by the passing glimpse was so fascinating and so vivid, that, when the carriage came to the door, we returned to visit it for a half hour before proceeding on our way.

We were not disappointed in its loveliness. For though

"Once the gloomy haunt

Of solitary monks,"

it is now

"A beauteous seat

Of taste and elegance: around whose skirts,
Parks, meadows, groves, their mingled graces join,
And Avon pours his tributary urn!"

The grounds, by nature extremely romantic and picturesque, are replete in embellishments of art and taste. Like Warwick Castle, the building, a massive structure in the style of queen Elizabeth's reign, is so situated, upon a cliff over the Avon, that, while the apartments of the principal floor are, on one front, scarce above the level of the entrance, on the other they are at an elevation of thirty or forty feet above the basement, at the water's edge below. Imme

EMBELLISHMENTS OF ART.

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diately around the mansion, all is rocky wildness; but, from every elevated window, long vistas are caught of river and lawn, grassy mead and tufted grove, of Elysian softness and beauty.

The romance and seclusion of this cliff, caused it to be selected, at a very early period, as the site of a small oratory, which was dedicated to Mary Magdalen, and placed under the care of a hermit, dwelling in a cell in the solid rock, embowered with trees. In this cell, Guy of Warwick is said to have secreted himself, and to have lived in penitence, for many years before his death. To this circumstance the cliff owes its present name. The cell is still shown, and in an antique and curious chapel, built on the site of the original oratory, in the fifteenth century, by one of the Earls of Warwick, is a stone statue of Guy the Warrior, now much defaced.

The decorations and furniture of the interior, harmonize well with the style of the building, and the scenery without; and many of the paintings are of high merit. One of the apartments is entirely hung with copies of chef-d'œuvres of many of the most distinguished masters, made by Mr. Greatheed, an only brother of Mrs. Percy-a young gentleman of genius and accomplishments, who died in Italy some years since, just after having acceded to this estate. In another, is a large unfinished piece, by the same individual, from Spencer's "Cave of Despair," in the Fairy Queen, which connoiseurs pronounce to bear evidences of the highest talent in the art. 1 have scarce ever gazed upon any thing on canvass, which

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excited a stronger feeling, or left so deep an impres sion of the subject upon the mind.

The emotions excited by it, are too painful for everyday gaze; and the piece, very properly, is so arranged in the wall, as to be screened at pleasure by a sliding wainscot. For this reason, probably, it is also made the last object of exhibition, in a circuit of the rooms. My friend was unwilling to take leave of Guy's Cliff, with such melancholy imagery before him; and returned to the drawing-room to banish it, by a second look at a splendid portrait of Mrs. Percy, which had particularly attracted our admiration, not only by a beauty of feature and elegance of tournure, peculiarly attractive, but also by an expression of blended dignity and sweetness, and a beaming of mind and soul, far more fascinating than either.

Our next stage, of eight miles, was to Stratfordon-Avon, the birth-place of Shakspeare. The character of the country is much the same as that between Coventry and Warwick; and the landscape, on every side, as delightful as can well be imagined, in scenery, devoid of everything that partakes of the wild and sublime.

From the many sketches and engravings which 1 had seen of this place, I felt myself acquainted with many of its most prominent features; and at once recognized the beautiful spire of its church, and the section of the Avon which embraces the bridge, crossing the river in the direction to Oxford.

The inn, to which the post-boy drove us, is kept by a female of middle age, who, from her dress, appeared a quakeress, wearing a plain bonnet, cravat

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of thin muslin, and a short drab cloak. She seemed to be the factotum of the establishment, and bustled about with great activity, in the direction and superintendence of its various departments. Towards us she was particularly attentive and polite, and almost officious, in her wishes to oblige; and, at once, gave us to understand that she knew us to be Americans, by telling us, that she had "twice had the honour of entertaining our distinguished fellow-countryman, Washington Irving," and that "many Americans visited the tomb of Shakspeare."

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To what particular circumstance we were indebted for this discovery, whether to some unlucky 'guess," or "nasal twang," or other exhibition of transatlantic habit or manners, or to a glance at the cypher, "U. S. N." on our trunks, which might have been understood, I cannot say; but we were a little surprised at it, as the first instance in which we have been recognized, or been suspected, so far as we could judge, of being from abroad. Our nationality soon became known in the streets, and as we walked about the town, especially in the vicinity of the post house, it was manifest that we were gazed on as two Indians, or something of the kind, just broken loose from the forest.

After refreshing ourselves for a few moments, in a neat parlour above stairs, boots was summoned to be our guide to the paternal residence of the immortal and immoral bard. It is a very old butcher's shop, in one of the principal streets, built of timber and filled in with plaster. The timbers are all seen

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