XII

"Where, through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault,

The pealing anthem swells the note of praise."

GRAY.

"Some men have been

Who loved the church so well, and gave so largely to't,

They thought it should have canopied their bones

Till doomsday."

There are few more delightful views in the vicinity of St. Louis of a

fine evening than that commanded by the summit of the "Big Mound," of

which I have spoken, in the northern suburbs of the city. Far away

from the north comes the Mississippi, sweeping on in a broad, smooth

sheet, skirted by woodlands; and the rushing of its waters along the

ragged rocks of the shores below is fancied faintly to reach the ear.

Nearly in the middle of the stream are stretched out the long, low,

sandy shores of "Blood Island," a spot notorious in the annals of

duelling. Upon the Illinois shore beyond it is contemplated erecting a

pier, for the purpose of throwing the full volume of the current upon

the western shore, and thus preserving a channel of deep water along

the landing of the city. Within a few years past an extensive sand-bar

has accumulated opposite the southern section of the city, which

threatens, unless removed, greatly to obstruct, if not to destroy, the

harbour. To remedy this, an appropriation {135} has been made by

Congress, surveys have been taken, measures devised and their

execution commenced.[112] Upon the river-bank opposite the island

stands the "Floating Dry Dock," an ingenious contrivance, the

invention of a gentleman of St. Louis, and owned by a company of

patentees.[113] It consists of an indefinite number of floats, which

may be increased or diminished at pleasure, each of them fourteen feet

in breadth, and about four times that length, connected laterally

together. After being sunk and suspended at the necessary depth in the

water, the boat to be repaired is placed upon them, and they rise till

her hull is completely exposed.

As the spectator, standing upon the Mound, turns his eye to the south,

a green grove lies before him and the smaller earth-heaps, over which

are beheld the towers and roofs of the city rising in the distance;

far beyond is spread out a smooth, rolling carpet of tree-tops, in the

midst of which the gray limestone of the arsenal is dimly perceived.

The extent between the northern suburbs of St. Louis and its southern

extremity along the river curve is about six miles, and the city can

be profitably extended about the same distance into the interior. The

prospect in this direction is boundless for miles around, till the

tree-tops blend with the western horizon. The face of the country is

neither uniform nor broken, but undulates almost imperceptibly away,

clothed in a dense forest of black-jack oak, interspersed with

thickets of the wild-plum, the crab-apple, and the hazel. Thirty years

ago, and this broad plain was a treeless, shrubless waste, {136}

without a solitary farmhouse to break the monotony. But the annual

fires were stopped; a young forest sprang into existence; and

delightful villas and country seats are now gleaming from the dark

foliage in all directions. To some of them are attached extensive

grounds, adorned with groves, orchards, fish-ponds, and all the

elegances of opulence and cultivated taste; while in the distance are

beheld the glittering spires of the city rising above the trees. At

one of these, a retired, beautiful spot, residence of Dr. F----, I

have passed many a pleasant hour. The sportsman may here be indulged

to his heart's desire. The woods abound with game of every species:

the rabbit, quail, prairie-hen, wild-turkey, and the deer; while the

lakes, which flash from every dell and dingle, are swarmed with fish.

Most of these sheets of water are formed by immense springs issuing

from _sink-holes_; and are supposed, like those in Florida, which

suggested the wild idea of the _fountain of rejuvenescence_, to owe

their origin to the subsidence of the bed of porous limestone upon

which the Western Valley is based. Many of these springs intersect the

region with rills and rivulets, and assist in forming a beautiful

sheet of water in the southern suburbs of the city, which eventually

pours out its waters into the Mississippi. Many years ago a dam and

massive mill of stone was erected here by one of the founders of the

city; it is yet standing, surrounded by aged sycamores, and is more

valuable and venerable than ever. The neighbouring region is abrupt

and broken, varied by a delightful vicissitude of hill and dale. The

borders {137} of the lake are fringed with groves, while the steep

bluffs, which rise along the water and are reflected in its placid

bosom, recall the picture of Ben Venue and Loch Katrine:[114]

"The mountain shadows on her breast

Were neither broken nor at rest;

In bright uncertainty they lie,

Like future joys to Fancy's eye."

This beautiful lake and its vicinity is, indeed, unsurpassed for

scenic loveliness by any spot in the suburbs of St. Louis. At the

calm, holy hour of Sabbath sunset, its quiet borders invite to

meditation and retirement. The spot should be consecrated as the

trysting-place of love and friendship. Some fine structures are rising

upon the margin of the waters, and in a few years it will be rivalled

in beauty by no other section of the city.

St. Louis, like most Western cities, can boast but few public edifices

of any note. Among those which are to be seen, however, are the large

and commodious places of worship of the different religious

denominations; an elegant courthouse, occupying with its enclosed

grounds one of the finest squares in the city; two market-houses, one

of which, standing upon the river-bank, contains on its second floor

the City Hall; a large and splendid theatre, in most particulars

inferior to no other edifice of the kind in the United States; and an

extensive hotel, which is now going up, to be called the "St. Louis

House," contracted for one hundred and twenty thousand dollars. The

Cathedral of St. Luke, the University, Hospital, Orphan Asylum, and

the {138} "Convent of the Sacred Heart," are Catholic Institutions,

and well worthy of remark.[115] For many years after its settlement,

the Roman Catholic faith prevailed exclusively in St. Louis. The

founders of the city and its earliest inhabitants were of this

religious persuasion; and their descendants, many of whom are now

among its most opulent and influential citizens, together with foreign

immigrants of a recent date, form a numerous and respectable body. The

names of Chouteau, Pratte, Sarpy, Cabanné, Menard, Soulard, &c., &c.,

are those of early settlers of the city which yet are often

heard.[116]

The "Cathedral of St. Luke" is a noble structure of stone.[117] It

was consecrated with great pomp in the autumn of '34, having occupied

three years in its erection. The site is unfavourable, but it

possessed an interest for many of the old citizens which no other spot

could claim. Here had stood their ancient sanctuary, with which was

associated the holy feelings of their earliest days; here had been the

baptismal font and the marriage altar; while beneath reposed the

sacred remains of many a being, loved and honoured, but passed away.

The former church was a rude structure of logs. The dimensions of the

present building are a length of about one hundred and forty feet, to

a breadth of eighty and an altitude of forty, with a tower of upward

of an hundred feet, surmounted by a lofty cross. The steeple contains

a peal of six bells, the three larger of which were cast in Normandy,

and chime very pleasantly; upon the four sides of the tower are the

dial-plates of a clock, which strikes the hours upon {139} the bells.

The porch of the edifice consists of four large columns of polished

freestone, of the Doric order, with corresponding entablature,

cornice, pediment, and frieze, the whole surface of the latter being

occupied with the inscription "_In honorem S. Ludovici. Deo Uni et

Trino, Dicatum, A. D. MDCCCXXXIV_," the letters elevated in

_basso-relievo_. Over the entrances, which are three in number, are

inscribed, in French and in English, passages from Scripture, upon

tablets of Italian marble. The porch is protected from the street by

battlements, surmounted by an iron railing, and adorned by lofty

candelabra of stone. The body of the building is divided by two

colonnades, of five pillars each, into three aisles. The columns,

composed of brick, stuccoed to imitate marble, are of the Doric order,

supporting a cornice and entablature, decorated with arabesques and

medallions; and upon them reposes the arch of the elliptic-formed and

panelled ceiling. Between the columns are suspended eight splendid

chandeliers, which, when lighted at night, produce a magnificent

effect. The walls are enriched by frescoes and arabesques, and the

windows are embellished with transparencies, presenting the principal

transactions of the Saviour's mission. This is said to be one of the

first attempts at a substitute for the painted glass of the Middle

Ages, and was executed, together with the other pictorial decorations

of the edifice, by an artist named _Leon_, sent over for the purpose

from France. The effect is grand. Even the garish sunbeams are

mellowed down as they struggle dimly through the richly-coloured {140}

hangings, and the light throughout the sacred pile seems tinged with

rainbow hues. In the chancel of the church, at the bottom of the

centre aisle, elevated by a flight of steps, and enclosed by a

balustrade of the Corinthian order, is situated the sanctuary. Upon

either side stand pilasters to represent marble, decorated with

festoons of wheat-ears and vines, symbolical of the eucharist, and

surmounted with caps of the Doric order. On the right, between the

pilasters, is a gallery for the choir, with the organ in the rear, and

on the left side is a veiled gallery for the "Sisters of Charity"

connected with the convent and the other institutions of the church.

The altar-piece at the bottom of the sanctuary represents the Saviour

upon the cross, with his mother and two of his disciples at his feet;

on either side rise two fluted Corinthian columns, with a broken

pediment and gilded caps, supporting a gorgeous entablature. Above the

whole is an elliptical window, hung with the transparency of a dove,

emblematic of the Holy Ghost, shedding abroad rays of light. The high

altar and the tabernacle stand below, and the decorations on festal

occasions, as well as the vestments of the officiating priests, are

splendid and imposing. Over the bishop's seat, in a side arch of the

sanctuary, hangs a beautiful painting of St. Louis, titular of the

cathedral, presented by the amiable Louis XVI. of France previous to

his exile.[118] At the bottom of each of the side aisles of the church

stand two chapels, at the same elevation with the sanctuary. Between

two fluted columns of the Ionic order is suspended, in each chapel, an

{141} altar-piece, with a valuable painting above. The piece on the

left represents St. Vincent of Gaul engaged in charity on a winter's

day, and the picture above is the marriage of the blessed Virgin. The

altar-piece of the right represents St. Patrick of Ireland in his

pontifical robes, and above is a painting of our Saviour and the

centurion, said to be by Paul Veronese. At the opposite extremity of

the building, near the side entrances, are two valuable pieces; one

said to be by Rubens, of the Virgin and Child, the other the martyrdom

of St. Bartholemew.[119] Above rise extensive galleries in three rows;

to the right is the baptismal font, and a landscape of the Saviour's

immersion in Jordan. Beneath the sanctuary of the church is the lower

chapel, divided into three aisles by as many arches, supported by

pilasters, which, as well as the walls, are painted to imitate marble.

There is here an altar and a marble tabernacle, where mass is

performed during the week, and the chapel is decorated by fourteen

paintings, representing different stages of the Saviour's

passion.[120]

In the western suburbs of the city, upon an eminence, stand the

buildings of the St. Louis University, handsome structures of

brick.[121] The institution is conducted by Jesuits, and most of the

higher branches of learning are taught. The present site has been

offered for sale, and the seminary is to be removed some miles into

the interior. Connected {142} with the college is a medical school of

recent date. The chapel of the institution is a large, airy room, hung

with antique and valuable paintings. Two of these, suspended on each

side of the altar, said to be by Rubens, are master-pieces of the art.

One of them represents Ignatius Loyola, founder of the order of

Jesuits; the other is the full-length picture of the celebrated

Francis Xavier, apostle to the Indies, who died at Goa while engaged

in his benevolent labours. In an oratory above hangs a large painting

by the same master; a powerful, though unfinished production. All the

galleries of the buildings are decorated with paintings, some of which

have but little to commend them to notice but their antiquity. The

library embraces about twelve hundred volumes, mostly in the French

language. The _Universal Geography_ of Braviara, a valuable work of

eleven folios, brilliantly illuminated, and the _Actæ Sanctorum_, an

enormous work of _forty-two_ folio volumes, chiefly attract the

visiter's attention.[122] The philosophical apparatus attached to the

institution is very insufficient. Most of the pupils of the

institution are French, and they are gathered from all quarters of the

South and West; a great number of them are from Louisiana, sons of the

planters.

_St. Louis._