I got a note in reply, in which he said if I would call on Tuesday he would be happy to show me "The Log of the Mayflower," which is the title the English, without the slightest reason in the world, give the manuscript. I kept the appointment, and found the bishop with the book in his hand. He received me with great courtesy, showed me the palace, and said that that spot had been occupied by a bishop's palace for more than a thousand years.
After looking at the volume and reading the records on the flyleaf, I said: "My lord, I am going to say something which you may think rather audacious. I think this book ought to go back to Massachusetts. Nobody knows how it got over here. Some people think it was carried off by Governor Hutchinson, the Tory governor; other people think it was carried off by British soldiers when Boston was evacuated; but in either case the property would not have changed. Or, if you treat it as a booty, in which last case, I suppose, by the law of nations ordinary property does change, no civilized nation in modern times applies that principle to the property of libraries and institutions of learning."
"Well," said the bishop, "I did not know you cared anything about it."
"Why," said I, "if there were in existence in England a history of King Alfred's reign for thirty years, written by his own hand, it would not be more precious in the eyes of Englishmen than this manuscript is to us."
"Well," said he, "I think myself it ought to go back, and if it had depended on me it would have gone back before this. But the Americans who have been here--many of them have been commercial people--did not seem to care much about it except as a curiosity. I suppose I ought not to give it up on my own authority. It belongs to me in my official capacity, and not as private or personal property. I think I ought to consult the Archbishop of Canterbury. And, indeed," he added, "I think I ought to speak to the Queen about it. We should not do such a thing behind Her Majesty's back."
I said: "Very well. When I go home I will have a proper application made from some of our literary societies, and ask you to give it consideration."
I saw Mr. Bayard again, and told him the story. He was at the train when I left London for the steamer at Southampton. He entered with great interest into the matter, and told me again he would gladly do anything in his power to forward it.