that an old tower was visible on a high hill. The hill is called Dundry,
and it is said that it can be seen every where for a circle of five
miles round the city. Dundry is five miles from Bristol, and fourteen
from Bath, and it commands the most beautiful and extensive prospect in
the west of England. We rode out to it with an early friend of mine, who
is now the leading medical man of Bristol; and when I tell you that we
went in an Irish jaunting car, you may guess that we were amused. The
seats are at the sides, and George was in ecstasies at the novelty of
the vehicle. When oh the summit, we saw at the north and east the cities
of Bath and Bristol, and our view included the hills of Wiltshire, and
the Malvern Hills of Worcestershire. The Severn, from north to west, is
seen, embracing the Welsh coast, and beyond are the far-famed mountains
of Wales. The church has a fine tower, with turreted pinnacles fifteen
feet above the battlements. We rode over to Chew Magna, a village two
miles beyond Dundry. Here I went to a boarding school thirty-eight
years ago, and I returned to the village for the first time. It had
altered but little. The streets seemed narrower; but there was the old
tower where I had played fives, and there was the cottage where I bought
fruit; and when I entered it, Charley, I found "young Mr. Batt"-a man of
eighty-six. His father used to be "old Mr. Batt," and he always called
his son his "boy," and we boys termed him "young Mr. Batt." I came back
and found him eighty-six. So do years fly away. I called on one old
school-fellow, some years my junior. He did not recognize me, but I at
once remembered him. We partook of a lunch at his house. I was sadly
disappointed to find the old boarding school gone, but was not a little
relieved when I heard that it had given place to a Baptist church. I
confess I should have liked to occupy its pulpit for one Sabbath day.
To-morrow we are to spend at Clifton, the beautiful environ of Bristol,
and shall most likely write you again.
Yours affectionately,
J.O.C.
Letter 9.
BRISTOL.
DEAR CHARLEY:--
Clifton and the Hot Wells are the suburbs of this city, extending along
for a mile or two on the banks of the Avon. One mile below the city the
Avon passes between the rocks which are known as St. Vincent's on the
one side, and Leigh Woods upon the opposite one. These rocks are amongst
the sublimities of nature, and the Avon for about three miles presents
the wildest and sweetest bit of scenery imaginable. These cliffs have
been for ages the admiration of all beholders, and though thousands of
tons are taken from the quarries every year, yet the inhabitants say
that no great change takes place in their appearance. The Avon has a
prodigious rise of tide at Bristol, and at low water the bed of the
river is a mere brook, with immense banks of mud. The country all around
is exquisitely attractive, and affords us an idea of cultivation and
adornment beyond what we are accustomed to at home. In these rocks are
found fine crystals, which are known every where as Bristol diamonds. We
obtained some specimens, which reminded us of the crystals so frequently
seen at Little Falls, on the Mohawk. The great celebrity of the Hot
Wells is chiefly owing to a hot spring, which issues from the rock, and
possesses valuable medical qualities.
This spring had a reputation as early as 1480. It discharges about forty
gallons per minute, and was first brought into notice by sailors, who
found it useful for scorbutic disorders. In 1680 it became famous, and a
wealthy merchant rendered it so by a dream. He was afflicted with
diabetes, and dreamed that he was cured by drinking the water of this
spring. He resorted to the imagined remedy, and soon recovered. Its fame
now spread, and, in 1690, the corporation of Bristol took charge of the
spring. We found the water, fresh from the spring, at the temperature of
Fahrenheit 76 deg.. It contains free carbonic acid gas. Its use is seen
chiefly in cases of pulmonary consumption. I suppose it has wrought
wonders in threatening cases. It is the place for an _invalid_ who
_begins to fear_, but it is not possible to "create a soul under the
ribs of death." Unhappily, people in sickness too seldom repair to such
aid as may here be found till the last chances of recovery are
exhausted. I have never seen a spot where I thought the fragile and
delicate in constitution might pass a winter, sheltered from every
storm, more securely than in this place. Tie houses for accommodation
are without end, both at the Hot Wells and at Clifton. This last place
is on the high ground, ascending up to the summit of the rocks, where
you enter on a noble campus known as Durdham Down. This extends for some
three or four miles, and is skirted by charming villages, which render
the environs of Bristol so far-famed for beauty.
I never wished to have your company more than when we all ascended the
height of St. Vincent's Rocks. The elevation at which we stood was about
three hundred and fifty feet above the winding river which, it is
thought, by some sudden convulsion of nature, turned from the moors _of_
Somersetshire, its old passage to the sea, and forced an abrupt one
between the rocks and the woods; and the corresponding dip of the
strata, the cavities on one side, and projections on the other, make the
supposition very plausible. A suspension bridge over this awful chasm is
in progress.
The celebrated pulpit orator, Robert Hall, always spoke of the scenery
of this region as having done very much in his early days to form his
notions of the beautiful. In one of his most admirable sermons, preached
at Bristol, when discoursing upon "the new heavens and the new earth,"
he indulged in an astonishing outbreak of eloquence, while he conducted
his audience to the surpassing beauties of their own vicinage,
sin-ruined as it was, and then supposed that this earth might become the
dwelling-place of the redeemed, when, having been purified from all
evil, it should again become "very good." Here, on these scenes of
unrivalled beauty, Southey, and Lovell, and Coleridge, and Cottle have
loved to meditate; and the wondrous boy Chatterton fed his muse amid
these rare exhibitions of the power and wisdom of the Godhead. A Roman
encampment is still visible on the summit of the rocks. We were all
sorry, to see such havoc going on among the quarries, where, to use
Southey's language on this subject, they are "selling off the sublime
and beautiful by the boat load."
[Illustration: Samuel Taylor Coleridge.]
Our favorite walk is on the downs. George seems really penetrated with
the uncommon beauty of the region, and wants to stop as long as
possible, and does not believe any thing can be more beautiful. We look
over the awful cliffs--gaze on the thread of water winding its devious
course at an immense distance below--watch the steamers from Wales and
Ireland shoot up to the city, and the noble West Indiamen, as they are
towed along. The woods opposite are charming, and contain nearly every
forest-tree belonging to the country. Dr. Holland, in his travels
through Greece, refers to this very spot in the following language: "The
features of nature are often best described by comparison; and to those
who have visited Vincent's Rocks, below Bristol, I cannot convey a more
sufficient idea of the far-famed Vale of Tempe than by saying that its
scenery resembles, though on a much larger scale, that of the former
place. The Peneus, indeed, as it flows through the valley, is not
greatly wider than the Avon, and the channel between the cliffs
irregularly contracted in its dimensions; but these cliffs themselves
are much loftier and more precipitous, and project their vast masses of
rock with still more extraordinary abruptness over the hollow beneath."
We devoted a morning to visit Leigh Court, the residence of Mr. Miles, a
wealthy merchant and member in Parliament for Bristol. This is regarded
as one of the finest residences in the west of England. The mansion has
an Ionic portico, supported by massive columns. The great hall is very
extensive. A double flight of steps leads you to a peristyle of the
Ionic order, around which are twenty marble columns, supporting a lofty
dome, lighted by painted glass. The floor is of colored marble. This
residence has been enriched with the choicest treasures from Wanstead
House, and Fonthill Abbey. To us the grand attraction was the Picture
Gallery, which has few superiors in the kingdom. A catalogue, with
etchings, was published a few years ago. You may judge of the merits of
the collection, and the nature of our gratification, when I tell you
that here are the Conversion of Paul, by Rubens; the Graces, by Titian;
William Tell, by Holbein; Pope Julius II., by Raphael; Ecce Homo, by
Carl Dolci; Head of the Virgin, by Correggio; St. Peter, by Guido; St.
John, by Domenichino; Creator Mundi, by Leonardo da Vinci; Crucifixion,
by Michael Angelo; Plague of Athens, by N. Poussin; three Seaports, by
Claude; and a large number by Rembrandt, Salvator Rosa, Paul Potter,
Parmegiano, Velasques, Gerard Dow, &c. This has been a most gratifying
excursion, and our visit here will be a matter of pleasant recollection.
I forgot to say that at Clifton, and at various places near the rocks,
we were beset by men, women, and children, having very beautiful
polished specimens of the various stones found in the quarries, together
with minerals and petrifactions. Of these we all obtained an assortment.
Yours affectionately,
J.O.C.
Letter 10.
DEAR CHARLEY:--
We have while at Bristol made two journeys to Bath, and I am sure we are
all of opinion that it is the most elegant city we ever saw. A great
deal of its beauty is owing to the fine freestone of which it is chiefly
built.
We were much pleased with the Royal Crescent, which consists of a large
number of elegant mansions, all built in the same style. Ionic columns
rise from a rustic basement, and support the superior cornice. These
houses are most elegantly finished. All the city is seen from the
crescent, and no other spot affords so grand a prospect. Camden Place is
an elliptical range of edifices, commanding an extensive view of the
valley, with the winding stream of the Avon, and the villages upon its
banks. One of the principal features of Bath is its hills and downs,
which shelter it on every side. The sides on these downs are very fine,
extending for miles, and you see thousands of sheep enjoying the finest
possible pasturage. Talking of sheep, I am reminded how very fine the
sheep are here; it seems to me they are almost as big again as our
mutton-makers.
Queen Square, in Bath, pleases us all, as we are told it does every one.
It stands up high, and is seen from most parts of the city. From north
to south, between the buildings, if is three hundred and sixteen feet,
and from east to west three hundred and six feet. In the centre is an
enclosure, and in that is a fine obelisk. The north side of the square
is composed of stately dwellings, and they have all the appearance of a
palace. The square is built of freestone, and is beautifully tinted by
age. The first thing almost we want to see in these fine towns is the
cathedral, if there be one. I never thought that I should be so pleased
with old buildings as I find I am. Old houses, castles, and churches
have somehow strangely taken my fancy. The Cathedral, or, as they here
call it, the Abbey Church, is a noble one. It was begun in 1495, and
only finished in 1606, and stands on the foundation of an old convent,
erected by Osric in 676. It is famous for its clustered columns, and
wide, elegantly arched windows. The roof is remarkable for having
fifty-two windows, and I believe has been called the Lantern of England.
You know that the city takes its name from its baths. The great resort
of fashion is at the Pump-room and the Colonnade. This building is
eighty-five feet in length, forty-six wide, and thirty-four high. This
elegant room is open to the sick of every part of the world. An
excellent band plays every day from one till half past three.
The King's Bath is a basin sixty-six feet by forty-one, and will contain
three hundred and forty-six tuns. I have been much pleased with Dr.
Granville's works on the Spas of England, and there you will find much
interesting matter respecting Bath.
We made some pleasant excursions in the vicinity of this beautiful city.
We have visited Bradford, Trowbridge, and Devizes. Trowbridge is a fine
old town, and we looked with interest at the church where the poet
Crabbe so long officiated. His reputation here stands high as a good man
and kind neighbor, but he was called a poor preacher. Here, and in all
the neighboring places, the manufacture of broadcloths and cassimeres is
carried on extensively. Devizes is a charming old town. We were greatly
interested with its market-place, and a fine cross, erected to hand down
the history of a sad event. A woman who had appealed to God in support
of a lie was here struck dead upon the spot, and the money which she
said she had paid for some wheat was found clinched in her hand. This
monument was built by Lord Sidmouth, and is a fine freestone edifice,
with a suitable inscription.
Roundaway Down, which hangs over this ancient town, was famous in the
civil wars of Charles I. Here, too, are the relics of an old castle.
Devizes has two great cattle fairs, in spring and autumn; and the market
day, on Thursday, gave us a good idea of the rural population. We have
rarely seen finer looking men than were here to be seen around their
wheat, barley, and oats. We have been pleased to see the great English
game of cricket, which is so universally played by all young men in this
country. It seems to us that the boys here have more athletic games than
with us. Prisoners' bass seems a favorite boys' amusement, and ninepins,
or, as we call it, bowls, are played by all classes freely, and it is
not regarded as at all unministerial. We are going to London this week,
and shall commence sight-seeing in earnest. Above all, we are to be at
the exhibition. When I have seen the lions, I will write you again.
Yours affectionately,
JAMES.
Letter 11.
LONDON.
DEAR CHARLEY:--
The story goes that Mr. Webster, when he first arrived in London,
ordered the man to drive to the Tower. Certainly we boys all wanted to
go there as soon as possible. I do not think that I ever felt quite so
touch excitement as I did when we were riding to the Tower, I had so
many things crowding into my mind; and all the history of England with
which I have been so pleased came at once freshly into my memory. I
wanted to be alone, and have all day to wander up and down the old
prison and palace and museum, for it has been all these things by turns.
Well, we rode over Tower Hill, and got directly in front of the old
fortress, and had a complete view of it.
In the centre stands a lofty square building, with four white towers,
having vanes upon them. This is said to be the work of William the
Conqueror, but has had many alterations under William Rufus, Henry I.,
and Henry II. In 1315, the Tower was besieged by the barons who made war
on John. Henry III. made his residence in this place, and did much to
strengthen and adorn it. About this time the Tower began to be used as a
state prison. Edward I. enlarged the ditch or moat which surrounded the
Tower. In the days of Richard II., when the king had his troubles with
Wat Tyler, the Archbishop of Canterbury was beheaded on Tower Hill, or,
rather, massacred, for it said that he was mangled by eight strokes of
the axe. When Henry V. gained his great victory at Agincourt, he placed
his French prisoners here. Henry VIII. was here for some time after he
came to the throne, and he made his yeomen the wardens of the Tower,
and they still wear the same dress as at that day. The dress is very
rich,--scarlet and gold,--and made very large; the coat short, and
sleeves full. The head-dress is a cap.
We went in at what is called the Lion's Gate, because some time back the
menagerie was kept in apartments close by. The kings of other days used
to have fights between the beasts, and James I. was very fond of combats
between lions and dogs in presence of his court. All these animals were
moved several years ago to the Zooelogical Gardens. We passed through
strong gates, defended by a portcullis, and on our left we saw what the
warden called the Bell Tower, and which was the prison of Bishop Fisher,
who was beheaded for not acknowledging Henry VIII. to be the head of the
church. I wanted to see the Traitor's Gate, and found it was on the
right hand, having a communication with the Thames under a bridge on the
wharf. Through this passage it was formerly the custom to convey the
state prisoners, and many a man in passing this gate bade farewell to
hope.
There is, just opposite to this gate, the bloody tower where Edward V.
and his brother were put to death by the monster Richard, who usurped
the throne. I would have given a great deal to have explored the Tower,
but the things and places I wanted to look into were just what you are
not let see. The old Tower of English history you look at, but must not
go through. Still I have been delighted, but not satisfied. We found the
spot where the grand storehouse and armory were burnt in 1841, and, if I
recollect rightly, the warden said it was three hundred and fifty feet
long, and sixty wide. Here, I suppose, was the finest collection of
cannon and small fire-arms in the world. We saw some few fine specimens
that were saved. Of course, we were curious to see the Horse Armory.
This is a room one hundred and fifty feet in length, and about
thirty-five wide. Some one has said that here is "the History of
England, done in iron." All down the middle of the room is a line of
equestrian figures, and over each character is his banner. All the sides
of the apartment are decorated with trophies and figures in armor. I was
much gratified with the beautiful taste displayed in the arrangement of
the arms upon the walls and ceiling. Some of the suits of armor were
very rich, and answered exactly to my notions of such matters. Here I
saw, for the first time, the coat of mail; and I think the men of that
day must have been stronger than those of our time, or they never could
have endured such trappings. I was much pleased with the real armor of
Henry VIII. This suit was very rich, and damasked. And here, too, was
the very armor of Dudley, Earl of Leicester, who figured at the court
of Elizabeth. It weighs eighty-seven pounds; and close by it is the
martial suit of the unfortunate Essex. He was executed, you know, at
this place, 1601. Among the most beautiful armors we saw were the suits
of Charles I. and a small one which belonged to his younger brother when
a lad. I think one suit made for Charles when a boy of twelve would have
fitted me exactly; and wouldn't I have liked to become its owner! King
Charles's armor was a present from the city of London, and was one of
the latest manufactured in England.
I do not think I ever was in a place that so delighted me. I cannot tell
you a hundredth part of the curiosities that are to be seen s all sorts
of rude ancient weapons; several instruments of torture prepared by the
Roman Catholics, at the time of the Spanish Armada, for the conversion
of the English heretics. One of these was the Iron Collar, which weighs
about fifteen pounds, and has a rim of inward spikes; and besides, we
saw a barbarous instrument, called the Scavenger's Daughter, which
packed up the body and limbs into an inconceivably small space. We
looked with deep interest, you may imagine, Charley, on the block on
which the Scotch lords, Balmerino, Kilmarnook, and Lovat, were beheaded
in 1746. The fatal marks upon the wood are deeply cut; and we had in our
hands the axe which was used at the execution of the Earl of Essex. I
shall read the history of this country, I am sure, with more pleasure
than ever, after walking over the yard and Tower Hill, where so many
great and good, as well as so many infamous, persons have suffered
death. Only think what a list of names to be connected with the
block--Fisher, More, Queen Anne Boleyn, Queen Catherine Howard,
Margaret, Countess of Salisbury, Cromwell and Devereux, both Earls of
Essex, the Duke of Somerset, Lady Jane Grey and her husband, the Duke of
Northumberland, Sir Walter Raleigh, Strafford, Laud,--all perished on
the Tower Green or on the Tower Hill. The spot is easily recognized
where the scaffold was erected.
The regalia, or crown jewels, are kept in an apartment built on purpose
to contain these precious treasures. Here are the crowns that once
belonged to different sovereigns and heirs of the throne. At the death
of Charles I., the crown in use, and said to be as old as the times of
Edward the Confessor, was broken up, and a new one made at the
restoration of Charles II. The arches of this crown are covered with
large stones of different colors, and the cap of the crown is of purple
velvet. The old crown for the queen is of gold, set with diamonds of
great cost, and has some large pearls. There is a crown called "the
Diadem," which was made for James II.'s queen, adorned with diamonds,
and which cost just about half a million of dollars. The crown of the
Prince of Wales is plain gold.
As for orbs, staffs, and sceptres, I can't tell you half the number. One
I noticed called "St. Edward's Staff," of gold, four feet seven inches
long. At the top is an orb and cross, and a fragment of the Savior's
cross is _said_ to be in the orb. Here, too, are all kinds of
swords--called swords of justice and mercy--and vessels to hold the oil
for anointing the monarch at coronation, and a saltcellar of gold which
is used at the same time, and is a model of the Tower. I thought all
this very fine; but I was most pleased with seeing such splendid
specimens of precious stones. Such diamonds, pearls, amethysts,
emeralds, &c., &c., we Yankee boys had never seen, and probably may
never see again. I was very much delighted with a large silver wine
fountain, presented by Plymouth to Charles II., and which is used at
coronation banquets; and also with the font, of silver gilt; used at the
baptism of the Queen. It stands about four feet high. Over all this show
that I have told you of is the state crown made for Victoria. This is
very brilliant, and in the centre of the diamond cross is a sparkling
sapphire, while in front of the crown is a large ruby which was worn by
the Black Prince. Well, Charley, my boy, I would rather go to
Washington and look at our old copy of the Declaration of Independence
than gaze for a whole day at this vast collection of treasure. There is
more to be proud of in that old camp equipage of Washington's up in the
patent office than in all the crown jewels of England--at least, so I
think, and so do you.
Yours affectionately,
GEORGE.
Letter 12.
LONDON.
DEAR CHARLEY:--
George has said his say about the Tower, he tells me; and I assure you
it was a time that we shall often think of when we get back. On our
return, the doctor proposed that we should visit the Thames Tunnel,
which was not far off; and so we went through a number of poor streets,
reminding us of the oldest parts of Boston round Faneuil Hall. The
tunnel connects Rotherhithe and Wapping. This last place, you know, we
have read about enough in Dibdin's Sea Songs, our old favorite.
Several notions about this great idea have been entertained in past
years; but in 1814, Brunei, the great engineer, noticed the work of a
worm on a vessel's keel, where it had sawn its way longitudinally, and
he caught an idea. In 1833, he formed a "Thames Tunnel Company," and in
1825 he commenced operations, but it was not opened till 1843 for
passengers. There are no carriage approaches to it, and it is only
available to foot travellers. The ascent and descent is by shafts of,
perhaps, one hundred steps. I think I heard that the great work cost the
company, and government, who helped them, about half a million sterling.
The passages are all lighted up with gas, and in the way you find raree
shows of a dioramic character, and plenty of music, and not a few
venders of views and models of the tunnel. After leaving this river
curiosity, we went to see the new Houses of Parliament, which run along
the banks of the river, in close neighborhood to Westminster Abbey. I
felt disappointed at the first view, it is altogether so much like a
very large pasteboard model--such a thing as you often see in ladies'
fairs for charity. To my notion, the affair wants character; it is all
beautiful detail. The length is about oho thousand feet. The clock tower
is to be three hundred and twenty feet high. It is vain to describe the
building, which is far too immense and complicated for my pea. I never
was so bewildered in a place before. As I think you would like to have a
correct idea of the House of Lords, I will quote from the description
which was handed us on entering, but even then you will fail to
understand its gorgeous character.