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Updated: October 6, 2025
In short, dear H , where success means bread and butter, failure means dry bread, or none; and I hate the last, I believe, less than the first, though, as I never tried starvation, perhaps dry bread is nicer.... The excitement about the Bill is rising instead of subsiding. They say that Nottingham and Belvoir Castles are burnt down. All this is bad, and bodes, I fear, worse. Good-by, dear.
George William Fairfax, a son of the master of Belvoir, went with him, a young man of twenty-two. Washington was then just sixteen, young enough to be in high spirits at the prospect before him. He brought his surveyors' instruments, and they both bore guns as well, for they looked for some fine sport in the woods.
Belvoir was taken aside by a brother member, on an important matter to be brought before the committee on salmon fisheries, on which they both served; and Kenelm, with his companion, Sir Peter, threaded his way through the crowded lobby and disappeared.
Belvoir selected it for her as having the longest back and the shortest legs of any dog he could find in Scotland." "Ah, George gave it to her; I forgot that," said Travers, laughing pleasantly.
I cannot abide anything but country washing. But I should be vastly sorry to have to live there. What can a man find to do?" "You don't hunt, George?" "When I do, it's a woman. But surely you don't go to hounds, Charles?" "I was out with the Belvoir last winter." "The Belvoir! Did you hear how I smoked Rutland? The story has been in the clubs this month past.
For my part, were I a buyer, I should like making my purchases in a less public mart. "Come, Godolphin, a glass of champagne," cried the young Lord Belvoir, as they sat near each other at the splendid supper. "With all my heart; but not from that bottle! We must have a new one; for this glass is pledged to Lady Delmour, and I would not drink to her health but from the first sparkle!
He was soon to get a very important commission. When Augustine Washington died, he bequeathed to his elder son, Lawrence, an estate on the Potomac called Hunting Creek. Near by lay the magnificent estate of Belvoir, owned by the wealthy William Fairfax, and Lawrence Washington had the good fortune to win the heart and hand of Fairfax's daughter.
A few miles below Mount Vernon, on the Potomac River, was the beautiful estate of Belvoir, belonging to an English gentleman of rank named Lord Fairfax. The broad Potomac wound about the base of the lawn that sloped gently downward from the old colonial mansion which sat upon a height looking out across the exquisite Virginia country.
Washington looked on the ruins of Belvoir, and sighed to think of the many happy hours he had passed with the Fairfaxes, now gone from the land forever. Other old friends had been taken away by death, and the gaps were not filled by the new faces of which he speaks to McHenry.
The woods of Belvoir, and the rural charms of Parham and Glemham, had not dimmed the memory of the sordid little fishing-town, where the spirit of poetry had first met him, and thrown her mantle round him. And now the day had come when the mandate of the bishop could no longer be ignored. In October 1805, Crabbe with his wife and two sons returned to the Parsonage at Muston.
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