where we arrived at about half past nine. We put up at the Black Swan,
with which we had already made acquaintance at our previous visit to
York. It is a very ancient hotel; for in the coffee-room I saw on the
wall an old printed advertisement, announcing that a stage-coach would
leave the Black Swan in London, and arrive at the Black Swan in York,
with God's permission, in four days. The date was 1706; and still, after
a hundred and fifty years, the Black Swan receives travellers in Coney
Street. It is a very good hotel, and was much thronged with guests when
we arrived, as the Sessions come on this week. We found a very smart
waiter, whose English faculties have been brightened by a residence of
several years in America.
In the morning, before breakfast, I strolled out, and walked round the
cathedral, passing on my way the sheriff's javelin-men, in long gowns of
faded purple embroidered with gold, carrying halberds in their hands;
also a gentleman in a cocked hat, gold-lace, and breeches, who, no doubt,
had something to do with the ceremonial of the Sessions. I saw, too, a
procession of a good many old cabs and other carriages, filled with
people, and a banner flaunting above each vehicle. These were the
piano-forte makers of York, who were going out of town to have a
jollification together.
After breakfast we all went to the cathedral, and no sooner were we
within it than we found how much our eyes had recently been educated, by
our greater power of appreciating this magnificent interior; for it
impressed us both with a joy that we never felt before. J----- felt it
too, and insisted that the cathedral must have been altered and improved
since we were last here. But it is only that we have seen much splendid
architecture since then, and so have grown in some degree fitted to enjoy
it. York Cathedral (I say it now, for it is my present feeling) is the
most wonderful work that ever came from the hands of man. Indeed, it
seems like "a house not made with hands," but rather to have come down
from above, bringing an awful majesty and sweetness with it and it is so
light and aspiring, with all its vast columns and pointed arches, that
one would hardly wonder if it should ascend back to heaven again by its
mere spirituality. Positively the pillars and arches of the choir are so
very beautiful that they give the impression of being exquisitely
polished, though such is not the fact; but their beauty throws a gleam
around them. I thank God that I saw this cathedral again, and I thank
him that he inspired the builder to make it, and that mankind has so long
enjoyed it, and will continue to enjoy it.
July 14th.--We left York at twelve o'clock, and were delayed an hour or
two at Leeds, waiting for a train. I strolled up into the town, and saw
a fair, with puppet-shows, booths of penny actors, merry-go-rounds,
clowns, boxers, and other such things as I saw, above a year ago, at
Greenwich fair, and likewise at Tranmere, during the Whitsuntide
holidays.
We resumed our journey, and reached Southport in pretty good trim at
about nine o'clock. It has been a very interesting tour. We find
Southport just as we left it, with its regular streets of little and big
lodging-houses, where the visitors perambulate to and fro without any
imaginable object. The tide, too, seems not to have been up over the
waste of sands since we went away; and far seaward stands the same row of
bathing-machines, and just on the verge of the horizon a gleam of water,
--even this being not the sea, but the mouth of the river Ribble, seeking
the sea amid the sandy desert. But we shall soon say good-by to
Southport.