same; so that it is a double cube. It is lighted by twelve windows, six
on each side, each of which is divided by mullions into four, these
being intersected by a transom, making eight lights in each window,
which are made of stained glass, representing the kings and queens,
consort and regnant, since the Conquest. The ceiling is flat, and
divided into eighteen large compartments, which are subdivided by
smaller ribs into four, having at the intersection lozenge-shaped
compartments. The centre of the south end is occupied by the throne,
each side of which are doors opening into the Victoria Lobby. The throne
is elevated on steps. The canopy is divided into three compartments, the
centre one rising higher than the others, and having under it the royal
chair, which is a brilliant piece of workmanship; studded round the back
with crystals. The shape of the chair is similar in outline to that in
which the monarchs have been crowned, and which is in Westminster Abbey,
but, of course, widely different in detail and decoration. On each side
of this chair are others for Prince Albert and the Prince of Wales. At
the north end is the bar of the house, where appeals are heard, and the
Commons assemble when summoned on the occasion of the opening of
Parliament. Above the bar is the reporters' gallery, behind which is the
strangers', and round the sides of the House is another gallery,
intended for the use of peeresses, &c., on state occasions.
"At the north and south ends of the house, above the gallery, are three
compartments, corresponding in size and shape to the windows, and
containing fresco paintings. Those at the north end are 'the Spirit of
Religion,' by J.C. Horsley; 'the Spirit of Chivalry' and 'the Spirit of
Justice,' by D. Maclise, R.A. Those at the south end, over the throne,
are 'the Baptism of Ethelbert,' by Dyce; 'Edward III. conferring the
Order of the Garter on the Black Prince,' and 'the Committal of Prince
Henry by Judge Gascoigne,' by C.W. Cope, R.A. Between the windows are
richly-decorated niches and canopies, which are to have bronze statues
in them. In casting the eye round the whole room, it is almost
impossible to detect scarcely a square inch which is not either carved
or gilded. The ceiling, with its massive gilded and decorated panels,
presents a most imposing and gorgeous effect, and one of truly royal
splendor. The St. Stephen's Hall is ninety-five feet long, thirty feet
wide, and sixty feet high; the roof is stone-groined, springing from
clustered columns running up the side of the hall. The bosses, at the
intersections of the main ribs, are carved in high relief, with
incidents descriptive of the life of Stephen.
"This hall leads through a lofty archway into the central hall, which
is octagon in plan, having columns at the angles, from which spring ribs
forming a grand stone groin finishing in the centre, with an octagon
lantern, the bosses at the intersections of all the ribs elaborately
carved. The size of this hall is sixty-eight feet in diameter, and it is
sixty feet to the crown of the groin."
The House of Commons, which is now in the course of completion, is quite
a contrast to the splendor of the House of Lords. Its length is
eighty-four feet; width, forty-five feet; and height, forty-three feet.
An oak gallery runs all round the house, supported by posts at
intervals, having carved heads, and spandrills supporting the main ribs.
The strangers' gallery is at the south end, in front of which is the
speaker's order gallery. At the north end is the reporters' gallery,
over which is the ladies' gallery--being behind a stone screen. The
libraries are fine rooms, looking out on the river. I have no time to
tell you of the beautiful refreshment rooms, excepting to say that the
one for the peers is one hundred feet long. I must not forget to say
that in the tower is to be a wondrous clock, the dial of which is to be
thirty feet in diameter! We went to see these buildings by an order from
the lord chamberlain. The total cost is estimated at between eight and
ten millions of dollars. It certainly is very rich, and looks finely
from the river; but it is unfortunately too near to the abbey, and wants
force. After leaving the Houses of Parliament, we went to Westminster
Hall, which has some of the finest historical recollections connected
with any public building in England. Really, I felt more awe in entering
this hall than I ever remember to have experienced. I cannot tell you
the size of it, but it is the largest room in Europe without a support,
and the span of the roof is the widest known. The roof, of chestnut, is
exceedingly fine. Only think, my dear fellow, what events have
transpired on this spot. The following trials took place here: Stafford,
Duke of Buckingham, for high treason, 1521; Sir Thomas More, 1535; Duke
of Somerset, for treason, 1552; Thomas Howard, Duke of Norfolk, for his
attachment to Mary, Queen of Scots; Robert Devereux, Earl of Essex,
1601, and Earl of Southampton; Guy Fawkes and the Gun-powder Plot
conspirators; Robert Carr, Earl of Southampton, and his countess, for
murder of Sir Thomas Overbury, 1616; Wentworth, Earl of Strafford, 1641;
Archbishop Laud; Charles I., for his attacks upon the liberties of his
country, 1649; the seven bishops, in the reign of James II.; Dr.
Sacheverel, 1710; in 1716, the Earls Derwentwater, Nithisdale, and
Carnwath, and the Lords Widdington, Kenmure, and Nairn, for the
rebellion of 1715; Harley, Earl of Oxford, 1717; the Earls Cromartie
and Kilmarnock, and Lord Balmerino, 1746, for the rebellion of 1745;
Lord Lovat, 1747; William Lord Byron, for the death of William Chaworth
in a bloody duel, 1765; Lord Ferrers, for the murder of his steward; the
infamous Duchess of Kingston, for bigamy, 1776; and Warren Hastings, for
cruelty in his office as Governor of India, 1788.
And besides all this, here have been the coronation feasts of all
England's monarchs, from William Rufus, who built it in 1099, down to
George IV., 1820. Sad times and merry ones have been here. We stepped
from the hall into the courts of law, which have entrances from this
apartment, and we saw the lord chancellor on the bench in one, and the
judges sitting in another. The courts were small, and not very imposing
in their appearance.
Yours truly,
JAMES.
Letter 13.
LONDON.
DEAR CHARLEY:--
O, we have had a noble treat; and how I longed for your company, as we
spent hour after hour in the British Museum. The building is very fine,
but the inside--that is every thing. The entire front is, I think, about
four hundred feet, and I reckoned forty-four columns forming a
colonnade; these are forty-five feet high. The portico is now receiving
magnificent sculpture in relief; and when the whole is finished, and the
colossal statues surmount the pediment, and the fine iron palisadoes,
now erecting, are completed, I think the edifice will be among the
finest in the world. The entrance hall is most imposing, and the ceiling
is richly painted in encaustic. The staircases are very grand, and their
side walls are cased with red Aberdeen granite, brought to an exquisite
polish. To describe the British Museum would be a vain attempt. In the
hall are several fine statues. Especially did we admire the one of
Shakspeare by Roubilliac, and given by Garrick. We soon found our way to
the Nineveh Gallery, and were wide awake to look after the relics of
Nineveh dug up by Layard on the banks of the Tigris. Here is a monstrous
human head, having bull's horns and ears, many fragments of horses'
heads, bulls, &c., &c. The colossal figure of the king is very grand,
and discovers great art. There is also a fine colossal priest, and the
war sculptures are of the deepest interest. Then we went to the Lycian
Room. The sculptures here were found at Xanthus, in Lycia. These ruins
claim a date of five hundred years before Christ. Here are some
exquisite fragments of frieze, describing processions, entertainments,
sacrifices, and female figures of great beauty.
In the Grand Saloon are numerous Roman remains of sculpture. In the
Phigalian Saloon are marbles found at a temple of Apollo, near Phigalia,
in Arcadia, in 1814. The Elgin Saloon is devoted to the magnificent
marbles taken in 1804, from temples at Athens, by the Earl of Elgin, and
were purchased by Parliament for thirty-five thousand pounds. They are
chiefly ornaments from the Parthenon, a Doric temple built in the time
of Pericles, B.C. 450, by Phidias. No one can fail to be impressed with
the great beauty of these conceptions. The famous Sigean inscription is
written in the most ancient of Greek letters, boustrophedon-wise; that
is, the lines follow each other as oxen turn from one furrow to another
in ploughing.
There are five galleries devoted to natural history, and are named thus:
the Botanical Museum, Mammalia Gallery, Eastern Zooelogical Gallery,
Northern Zooelogical Gallery, and the Mineral Gallery. The specimens in
all these are very fine. Nothing can be finer than the mammalia. The
preservation has been perfect, and far surpasses what I have been
accustomed to see in museums, where decay seems to be often rioting upon
the remains of nature. The department of ornithology is wonderful, and I
could have enjoyed a whole day in examining the birds of all climates.
In conchology the collection is very rich. I do not often get such a
gratification as I had among the portraits which are hanging on the
walls of these galleries. The very men I had heard so much of, and read
about, were here lifelike, painted by the best artists of their day. I
was much pleased with the picture of Mary, Queen of Scots, by Jansen; of
Cromwell, by Walker; of Queen Elizabeth, by Zucchero; of Charles II., by
Lely; of Sir Isaac Newton; of Lord Bacon; of Voltaire; of John
Guttenburg; and of Archbishop Cranmer. As to the library and the MSS.,
what shall I say? The collection of books is the largest in the kingdom,
and valuable beyond calculation. It amounts to seven hundred thousand.
We looked at illuminated gospels, Bibles, missals, till we were
bewildered with the gold and purple splendor; and then we walked from
one glass case to another, gazing upon autographs that made us
heart-sick when we thought of our juvenile treasures in this line. If
ever I did covet any thing, it was some old scraps of paper which had
the handwriting of Milton, Cromwell, Luther, Melancthon, Erasmus, and a
long _et caetera_ of such worthies. You know how much we love medals and
coins; well, here we revelled to our heart's delight. Country after
country has its history here, beautifully illustrated. The museum has
two spacious rooms devoted to reading, and the access to these treasures
is very liberal.
If I could stay in London one year, I should certainly propose to spend
three or four months in study and research at the British Museum; nor do
I imagine that it would be lost time. It seems to me that such a place
must make scholars; but I know, by my own painful recollection, that
opportunities for improvement are not always valued as they should be. I
have been much struck lately with the thought that men of leisure are
not the men who do much in literature. It never has been so. Here and
there a rich man cultivates his mind; but it is your busy men who leave
the mark upon the age.
While in the museum, we were shown Lord Chief Justice Campbell, the
author of the Lives of the Chancellors, &c. He is a working-man, if
there be one in England, and yet he finds time to elaborate volume upon
volume. I feel ashamed when I think how little I have acquired, how very
little I know that I might have understood, and what immensely larger
acquisitions have been made by those who have never enjoyed half my
advantages. There is a boy, only fifteen, who resorts to this museum,
and is said to understand its contents better than most of its visitors;
and a livery servant, some few years ago, used to spend all his hours of
leisure here, and wrote some excellent papers upon historical subjects.
If I have gained any good by my journey yet, it is the conviction, I
feel growing stronger every day, that I must work, and that every one
must work, in order to excel. It seems to me that we are in a fair way
to learn much in our present tour, for every day's excursion becomes a
matter of regular study when we come to our journal, which is now kept
posted up daily, as a thing of course. We are trying, at all events, to
make ourselves so familiar with the great attractions of London, that in
future life we may understand the affairs of the city when we hear of
them.
Yours affectionately,
WELD.
Letter 14.
LONDON.
DEAR CHARLEY:--
Ever since we reached London, I have wanted to go to Woolwich, the great
naval arsenal and dockyard, because I expected I should obtain a pretty
good idea of the power of the British navy; and then I like to compare
such places with our own; and I have often, at Brooklyn Navy Yard,
thought how much I should like to see Woolwich. Woolwich is one the
Thames, and about ten miles from the city. You can go at any hour by
steamer from London Bridge, or take the railway from the Surrey side of
the bridge. We were furnished with a ticket of admission from our
minister; but unfortunately, we came on a day when the yard was closed
by order. We were sadly disappointed, but the doorkeeper, a very
respectable police officer, told us that our only recourse was to call
on the commanding officer, who lived a mile off, and he kindly gave us a
policeman as a guide. On our way, we met the general on horseback,
attended by some other officers. We accosted him, and told our case. He
seemed sorry, but said the yard was closed. As soon as we mentioned that
we came from America, he at once gave orders for our admission, and was
very polite. Indeed, on several occasions we have found that our being
from the United States has proved quite a passport.
We had a special government order to go over all the workshops and see
the steam power, &c., &c. I think I shall not soon forget the wonderful
smithery where the Nasmyth hammers are at work, employed in forging
chain cables and all sorts of iron work for the men-of-war. We went in
succession through the founderies for iron and brass, the steam boiler
manufactory, and saw the planing machines and lathes; and as to all the
other shops and factories, I can only say, that the yard looked like a
city.
We were much pleased with the ships now in progress. One was the screw
steamer, the Agamemnon, to have eighty-guns. There, too, is the Royal
Albert, of one hundred and twenty guns, which they call the largest ship
in the world. Of course, we think this doubtful. It has been nine years
in progress, and will not be finished for three more. It is to be
launched when the Prince of Wales attains the rank of post captain. We
saw, among many other curiosities, the boat in which Sir John Ross was
out twenty-seven days in the ice. We went into an immense building
devoted to military stores, and in one room we saw the entire
accoutrements for ten thousand cavalry, including bridles, saddles, and
stirrups, holsters, &c.
The yard is a very large affair, containing very many acres; it is the
depository of the cannon belonging to the army and navy for all the
region, and there were more than twenty thousand pieces lying upon the
ground. Some were very large, and they were of all varieties known in
war.
After a delightful hour spent in listening to the best martial music I
ever heard played, by the band, we took steamboat for Greenwich, and,
landing there, walked to Blackheath, where we had an engagement to dine
at Lee Grove with a London merchant. Here we had a fine opportunity to
witness the luxury and elegance of English social life. This gentleman,
now in the decline of life, has an exquisitely beautiful place, situated
in a park of some sixty acres. The railroad has been run through his
estate, and, of course, has made it very much more valuable for
building; but as it injures the park for the embellishment of the
mansion, it was a fair subject for damages, and the jury of reference
gave its proprietor the pretty verdict of eleven thousand pounds. At the
table we had the finest dessert which the hothouse can furnish. Our host
gave us a very interesting account of his travels in America more than
forty years ago. A journey from New York to Niagara, as related by this
traveller, was then far more of an undertaking than a journey from New
Orleans to New York, and a voyage thence to England, at the present
time.
In the evening, we took the cars for London, and reached our comfortable
hotel, the Golden Cross, Charing Cross, at eleven o'clock. By the way,
we are all very much pleased with the house and its landlord. Mr.
Gardiner is a very gentlemanly man, of fine address and acquirements. He
has been a most extensive traveller in almost every part of the world,
and has a fine collection of paintings, and one of the prettiest
cabinets of coins and medals I ever saw. He has a pretty cottage and
hothouses four or five miles from the city; and his family resides
partly there and at the hotel. The hotel is every thing that can be
desired.
A few evenings ago, Mr. Lawrence had a splendid _soiree_. There were
probably from two to three hundred present. Among the company were Sir
David Brewster, Leslie the artist, Miss Coutts, the Duke of Wellington.
"The duke," as he is called, is the great man of England. All the people
idolize him, and he is known to be a great man. He has become more
identified with the history of England for the last forty years than any
other man. Of course, he was to us Americans the great man of the
country. Whenever I have read of Napoleon, I have had Wellington in my
eye, and to see him was next to seeing the emperor. I never expected the
pleasure, but here it is allotted me. He is quite an old man in his
bearing and gait. He was dressed in a blue coat with metal buttons, wore
his star and garter, and had on black tights and shoes. He had been to
the opera, and then came to this party. Every one pays the most
deferential homage to the old hero. Waterloo and its eventful scenes
came directly before me, and I felt almost impatient for our visit to
the battle-field.
A gentleman who knows the duke told us that he spends from four to five
hours every morning at the Horse Guards in the performance of his duties
as commander-in-chief. Although he looks so feeble in the drawing-room,
he sits finely on his horse; and when I saw him riding down Piccadilly,
he seemed to be full twenty years younger than he was the day before at
the party.
We shall always be glad that we came to England in time to see "the
duke," and if we live twenty or thirty years, it will be pleasant to
say "I have seen the Duke of Wellington."
Yours affectionately,
GEORGE.
Letter 15.
LONDON.
DEAR CHARLEY:--
I know how curious you are to hear all about the royal exhibition, so I
shall do my best to give you such an account of our visits to it as may
enable you to get a bird's eye view of the affair.
Almost as soon as I arrived, I determined upon securing season tickets
for the boys, in order that they might not only see the pageant of the
opening on the 1st of May, but also have frequent opportunities to
attend the building and study its contents before the reduced prices
should so crowd the palace as to render examination and study nearly
impracticable. However, there came a report through all the daily papers
that the queen had abandoned the idea of going in person to inaugurate
the exhibition, and the sale of tickets flagged, and it was thought
prices would be reduced below the three guineas, which had been the
rate. I left London for a few days without purchasing, and on my return
I called for four season tickets, when, to my surprise, I was told that,
just an hour before, orders had been given from the board to raise them
to four guineas. I at once purchased them, although I regarded the
matter as an imposition. A few days after, Prince Albert revoked the
action of the board, and orders were issued to refund the extra guinea
to all who had purchased at the advanced price. This was easily
ascertained by reference to the number on the ticket, and registered at
purchase with the autograph of the proprietor. Of course, we saved our
four guineas.
For several days before the 1st of May all London, I may say all
England, and almost all the world was on tiptoe. Every man, woman, and
child talked of "the Crystal Palace, the great exhibition, the queen,
and prince Albert."
For a week or two there had been a succession of cold rain storms.
Winter had lingered in the lap of April. Men were looking at the 1st of
May with gloomy anticipations of hail, rain, snow, and sleet. Barometers
were in demand. The 30th of April gave a hail storm! The 1st of May
arrives,--_the day,_--and lo!
"Heaven is clear,
And all the clouds are gone."
It was as though the windows of heaven were opened to let the glory from
above stream through and bless Industry's children, who are about to
celebrate their jubilee. The queen, it is said, has a charm as regards
the weather. I heard many exclaim, "It is the queen's weather; it is
always her luck." Such a sight as that day afforded was never before
witnessed, and such a spectacle will probably never again be gazed upon.
The streets were thronged early. Every westward artery of the great city
pulsated with the living tide that flowed through it. From the far east,
where the docks border the Thames, came multitudes, though not exactly
stars in the hemisphere of fashion. Ladies in the aristocratic precincts
of Belgravia rose at an early hour, and, for once, followed the queen's
good, every-day example. The lawyers rushed from Lincoln's and Gray's
Inns of Court. The Royal Exchange was so dull at ten o'clock that the
very grasshopper on its vane might have been surprised. Holborn was
crammed at when in olden time people pressed, and struggled, and strove
to see Jack Sheppard, Joshua Wild, Dick Turpin, or any such worthies on
their sad way to Tyburn. But it is no gibbet now allures the morbid
multitude. They are gayly, gently, and gladly travelling to the home of
industry. Among all the pleasant sights that every moment delighted us
none were more pleasant than the happy family groups, who, on every
side, "push along, keep moving." Just see that mechanic; he looks as
proud as a lord,--and why shouldn't he be?--with his wife leaning
trustingly, lovingly on his arm. He, good man, has thrown away the saw,
or plane, or any other tool of handicraft, and now his little boy--O,
the delight, the wonder in that boy's face!--is willingly dragged along.
Well, on we go,--driving across what you would call impassable streets,
and lo! we are wedged up in a crowd,--and such a crowd,--a crowd of all
nations.