An Autobiography of an Ancient Athlete & Antiquarian

AUTOBIOGRAPHY trained by my old friend, Howlett, at his lodgings at Hampstead, from which I vvalked home to Roehampton, where I was in training. Going home I rightly realized the truth of Sydney Smith's saying, that there was an end to everything except to eternity and Wimpole Street. My father was told by one of the examiners that, had I not most unwisely attempted to take up Bankruptcy and Criminal Law, I should have bad "mention," but I did so utterly badly at these subjects of which I was perfectly ignorant that I rightly received a pass only. In February and May I won prizes at the L.A.C. at 4 miles and 2 miles walking, both from scratch. I went to my first meeting of the Norfolk and Norwich Archreology Society in July, 1866, and got acquainted with the Hon. F. Walpole, who told me his ghost story on 5th July at the " Chequers'' at Brandon. It is a pity to have to disbelieve the story told so minutely-bow the Grey Lady of Rainham (by the way she is sometimes called white and sometimes brown) had been seen by the servants, and was waited up for by the gentlemen-how they stayed two nights in the corridor, playing ecarte, with two gamekeepers at each door-how they saw nothing the first two nights, but that in the middle of the third one of the keepers called out "There she be,'' and they saw her come through the wall at them– bow one gentleman. the narrator, most wisely flattened himself against the wall, to get as far as possible from her, but the other boldly stretching out his arms till he touched either side of the corridor, was passed through by her like smoke is passed through, and how they both saw her dis– appear through another wall. Mr. Walpole was a very energetic antiquary and bought and restored Rainthorp Hall, I understood because his "ancestress,'' as he called her, was supposed to have had some connection with the place. He had served with distinction in the East, and had travelled nearly everywhere. His best known book, '' May and September," was a clever novel and though much spoiled by hasty composition and bad grammar, is well worth reading for its graphic description of local society and scenery. Needless to say the heroine was named "Amye.'' We eventually quarrelled because I would not back up the old peerage tales of his ancestors.