and strife for entrance. Long and nobly did the police struggle and
resist, but at length the outward pressure was omnipotent, and the full
tide of lucky ones with season tickets gained, entrance into, not the
palace, but the enclosure. Then came order,--breathing space,--tickets
were examined, and places assigned on cards, given as we entered into
the palace itself. We all obtained good positions--very good ones. This
was at eleven o'clock. At about a quarter to twelve, one standing near
to us remarked, "She will be to her time; she always is." And he was
right; for scarcely had he prophesied before a prolonged shouting told
that the queen was coming. "Plumes in the light wind dancing" were the
outward and visible signs of the Life Guards, who came gently trotting
up. Then came four carriages,--the coachmen and footmen of which were so
disguised with gold lace, and wigs, and hair powder, that their mothers
wouldn't have known them,--and then the queen--not robed and tricked
out like the queens in children's story books, so dreadful as to
resemble thunderbolts in petticoats; not hooped, and furbelowed, and
stomachered, and embroidered all over, as was Elizabeth; nor with a cap,
like Mary, Queen of Scots; not with eight horses prancing before the
queen's carriage, but in her private carriage, drawn by two horses. Off
went all hats. I wish you could have heard the cheering as the queen
entered the wondrous building. O, it was like "the voice of many
waters." Such deep, prolonged, hearty cheering I never, heard. As
Victoria entered, up went the standard of England, and never before did
its folds wave over such a scene. The entrance of majesty was the signal
for the organ to play; the vitreous roof vibrates as the sounds fly
along the transparent aisles; and we had musical glasses on a large
scale. It would require the pen of our favorite Christopher North to
describe the magnificent scene when the queen ascended the throne,
surrounded by all the elegance and nobility of her kingdom. Her husband
reads an address; she replies; the venerable archbishop dedicates the
Temple of Industry. The queen declares the palace opened, and the
procession is formed to walk through its aisles. No small task this; but
then thirty thousand persons are waiting to gaze on the queen and her
court. A ludicrous sight it was to see two of England's proudest peers
walking backward before the queen. The Marquis of Westminster and Earl
of Breadalbane performed this feat, and glad enough must they have been
when they received their dismission. The heralds, some twelve or
fourteen, in black velvet, looked finely. The queen walked like a queen,
and bore herself nobly and womanly. She is a small figure, fair face,
light hair, large, full, blue eyes, plump cheek, and remarkably fine
neck and bust. She leaned upon her husband's right arm, holding in her
hand the Prince of Wales, while Prince Albert led the princess royal. I
was sadly disappointed in the appearance of the Prince of Wales. He is
altogether a feeble-looking child, and cannot have much mental force.
The princess is a fine, energetic-looking girl. We stood within a yard
of the royal party as it passed bowing along. Then came the members of
the royal family; and then visitors from Prussia and Holland; the ladies
and gentlemen of the queen's household; the cabinet ministers; the
foreign ministers; the archbishop in his robe, and the members of the
royal commission; the lord mayor of London, and the aldermen. There,
too, was Paxton, the architect of this great wonder. It was his day of
triumph, and every one seemed to be glad for his fortune. All these were
in gorgeous court dresses. I have seen all sorts and kinds of show, but
never did I witness such a spectacle as was this day afforded to the
congress of the world. The Duke of Wellington, and his companion in
arms, the Marquis of Anglesea, walked arm in arm, "par nobilis fratrum."
It was Wellington's birthday. He is eighty-two, and Anglesea eighty-one.
The Marquis walks well for a man of his age, and who has to avail
himself of an artificial leg. They were most enthusiastically cheered in
all parts of the house. In the diplomatic corps there was great splendor
of costume, but no man carried himself more stately than did Mr.
Lawrence, whose fine, manly figure admirably becomes a court dress. I do
not think that I ever saw a collection of ladies so plain and homely as
the court ladies of Queen Victoria, who walked behind her in procession.
The Duchess of Sutherland has been renowned for her majestic beauty; but
she is _passe_, and her friends are, I think, matchless for entire
destitution of personal charms. But there was enough present to atone
for the want of this in the royal circle. Some of the most exquisite
faces I ever saw were there in those galleries, and forms of beauty that
can hardly be surpassed. I was much surprised at noticing in the vast
crowd, known to be about thirty thousand, that there were so few lads. I
do not believe there were more than ten or fifteen in the palace; and,
as we have already said, the absence of lads is owing to their all being
at boarding-schools. Our boys, you may well suppose, are greatly
pleased with having witnessed the greatest pageant of the age, and one
that can never be surpassed. We shall soon be at the exhibition again,
and apply ourselves to a careful survey of its interesting contents.
Yours affectionately,
J.O.C.
Letter 16.
LONDON.
DEAR CHARLEY:--
Now that the excitement consequent on the opening of the Crystal Palace
has in some degree subsided and curiosity to a certain extent satisfied,
we are enabled to obtain more lucid ideas of this extraordinary building
and its wondrous contents. The admission for several days was one pound,
and at this high price the visitors were of the most fashionable
character. We have been much pleased in looking at the very fine
equipages that throng the roads around the park. The carriages, horses,
end liveries are in the best possible taste. When we entered, the palace
was no longer heightened in splendor by the presence of the sovereign
and her brilliant court. The superb canopy which overshadowed the _dais_
on which the gorgeous chair had stood, alone remained to indicate that
there England's queen had performed the inaugural rites; but the great
facts of the exhibition remained. The crystal fountain still played, the
magnificent elms appeared in their spring garniture of delicate green
beneath the lofty transept, and the myriad works of skill, art, and
science lay around, above, and beneath us. I entered the building by its
eastern door, and, immediately on passing the screen which interposes
between the ticket offices and the interior, the whole extent of the
palace of glass lay before me. Fancy yourself standing at the end of a
broad avenue, eighteen hundred and fifty feet in length, roofed with
glass, and bounded laterally by gayly-decorated, slender pillars. The
effect was surpassingly beautiful. Right and left of this splendid nave
were other avenues, into which the eyes wandered at will; for no walls,
no barriers are to be found in the whole building; all is open, from
floor to roof, and from side to side, and from the eastern to the
western extremity.
Proceeding westward, I saw the compartments allotted to our own country.
The first thing I noticed was a piece of sculpture,--the dying
Indian,--a fine production, though perhaps a trifle overdone. Then came
an American bridge, which painters were still at work upon; and then,
backed by drapery of crimson cloth, that splendid creation of genius,
the Greek Slave, which will immortalize the name of Hiram Powers. I
shall not, I think, be accused of national partiality when I assert
that this statue is, in sculpture, one of the two gems of the
exhibition. Perhaps, if I were not from the United States, I should say
it was "_the gem_." When I come to tell you of the Italian marbles, I
shall refer to that production of art which can alone be thought to
dispute the palm of superiority with it. Every one expresses the highest
admiration at the Slave, and a crowd is constantly around the spot. One
old gentleman, who was in an ecstasy over the sculpture, very sharply
rebuked a person complaining of the paucity of the American productions,
with "Fie, _there_ is one thing America has sent, that all Europe may
admire, and no one in Europe can equal." Turning aside from this
"breathing marble," I examined the American exhibition of products and
manufactures. I confess to you I felt mortified with the comparative
meagreness of our show, because it contrasts poorly with the abundance
exhibited by nations far inferior to us in skill and enterprise. Still,
we have much to show; but the useful prevails over the beautiful. I am
quite sure, too, that there are things here which will compel attention,
and carry away calm, dispassionate approbation from the jurors. The
United States exhibits numerous specimens of tools, cordage, cotton and
woolen fabrics, shawls, colors, prints, daguerreo-types, silver and gold
plate, pianos, musical instruments, harnesses, saddlery, trunks,
bookbinding, paper hangings, buggies, wagons, carriages, carpetings,
bedsteads, boots and shoes, sculls, boats, furs, hair manufactures,
lithographs, perfumery, soaps, surgical instruments, cutlery, dentistry,
locks, India rubber goods, machinery, agricultural implements, stoves,
kitchen ranges, safes, sleighs, maps, globes, philosophical instruments,
grates, furnaces, fire-arms of all descriptions, models of railroads,
locomotives, &c. You may add to these fine specimens of all our produce,
as cotton, sugar, tobacco, hemp, and the mineral ores--iron, lead, zinc,
plumbago, tin, and copper, coals of all kinds, preserved meats, &c., &c.
I wish, Charley, you could go with me into a door south of the transept,
over which, in oddly-shaped letters, are the words "MEDIAEVAL
COURT." The very name reminds one of Popery, Puseyism, and Pugin.
This mediaeval court absolutely dazzles one's eyes with its splendors.
Auriferous draperies line the walls; from the ceiling hang gold and
silver lamps--such lamps as are to be seen in Romish chapels before the
statues of the Virgin; huge candlesticks, in which are placed enormous
candles; Gothic canopies and richly-carved stalls; images of he and she
saints of every degree; crucifixes and crosiers; copes and mitres;
embroideries, of richest character, are all here--things which the
mother of harlots prizes as the chosen instruments by which she
deceives the nations. And truly beautiful are many of these things as
works of art; but it is only as works of art that any Christian can
admire them. As I gazed on the rich tissues and golden insignia, I
mourned for poor corrupt human nature, to which alone such gewgaws could
be acceptable. How would Paul or Peter have stared, had they been
required to don such glittering pontificals as are here to be seen!
While I feel great respect for Pugin's ability as an architect and
designer, I have profound pity for those who are deluded by these
gorgeous symbols of a gloomy, cruel, and heartless creed.
There is a large golden cage, not altogether unlike a parrot's; and
there is a press, indeed. What calls such attention from the multitude?
I join the gazers, and see what at first appears to be three pieces of
irregularly-shaped glass, white and glittering; one large piece, about
the size of a walnut, and two others a little larger than marbles. What
renders that bit of glass so attractive? Glass! no; it is "a gem of
purest ray serene"--a diamond--the diamond of diamonds--the largest in
the world. In short, it is the Kohinoor; or, as the Orientals poetically
called it, "the mountain of light." Its estimated value is two millions
sterling--enough to buy the Crystal Palace itself, nine times over. The
history of this precious gem is romantically curious. It belonged to
Runjeet Sindjb and is now an English trophy.
Let us enter that partially-darkened chamber, and stand before a painted
glass window, the production of Bertini, of Milan. I can't describe this
extraordinary production. It is illustrative of Dante, and, for
brilliancy of color and harmony of combination, it is not surpassed by
the much-vaunted specimens of past ages.
"From the sublime to the ridiculous," said Burke, "there is but a step;"
and at not much greater distance from this Dantean window is a German
toy stand. It is amusing to observe a big, "Tenbroek" sort of son of
Allemagne, arranging tiny children's toys. The contrast between the
German giant and the petty fabrics he is setting off to the best
advantage, provokes a smile.
Let us join the throng rushing into the suite of rooms furnished by the
upholsterers of Vienna. These rooms are indeed magnificent, and must
afford a high treat to the lovers of wood carving. There is a bookcase,
which is almost a miracle of art; the flowers seem to wave, and the
leaves to tremble, so nearly do they approach the perfection of nature.
Then there is, it is said by judges, the most superb bed in the world;
it is literally covered with carvings of the most costly and delicate
description. Since the time of the famous Grinling Gibbons, the English
carver, nothing has been seen like it. These Austrian rooms are among
the great guns of the show, and will repay repeated visits.
Here stands the glorious Amazon of Kiss, of Berlin. This group, of
colossal proportions, represents a female on horseback, in the act of
launching a javelin at a tiger which has sprung on the fore quarter of
her affrighted steed. This is a wonderful work of art, and places its
author in the first rank of sculptors. Nothing can surpass the lifelike
character of the Amazon's horse and the ferocious beast. As a tribute to
the genius of Kiss, a grand banquet is to be given to him by the
sculptors and artists of England. Well does he deserve such an honor.
Close by the Amazon is a colossal lion in bronze. This is the softest
piece of casting I ever saw; the catlike motion of the paw is perfectly
lifelike. I turn back again to that Amazon. I could gaze on the agony of
that horse for hours, and think I should continue to discover new
beauties.
The Crusader, a colossal equestrian statue of Godfrey of Bouillon, is
also very imposing. The entire floor is covered in the centre of the
avenue, from east to west, with beautiful statues, models, &c.
We ascended to one of the galleries for the purpose of taking a bird's
eye view of the gay, busy scene; and a most splendid scene was thrown
open to our gaze. Far as the eye could reach, the building was alive
with gayly-dressed people, who, amidst statues, and trophies, and trees,
and fountains, wandered as in the groves of some enchanted land. As I
strolled onwards, I came to where a tiny fountain sent up its silvery
jet of _eau de Cologne_, and an assistant of Jean Marie Farina, from a
little golden spoon, poured on my handkerchief, unasked, the odoriferous
essence. Then we lingered to witness two of the noblest cakes, the sight
of which ever gladdened the heart of a bride. Gunter, the great pastry
cook, was the architect of the one which was a triumph of taste. The
other was adorned with Cupid and Psyche-like emblems. Then came wax
flowers, beaded artfully with glass, so as to appear spangled with
dewdrops. Then we inspected Cashmere shawls, on which I saw many a lady
cast looks, of admiration, and, I almost fancied, of covetousness.
Down again, and we are beneath the transept. Beautiful, head, far higher
than the tops of the huge elm-trees, is a crystal arch which spans this
intersecting space. Around are marble statues, which gleam lustrously
amid the foliage of tropical plants, which, shielded from the chilling
air without, seem to be quite at home here. And in the midst up rises
Osler's crystal fountain--a splendid affair, twenty-seven feet in
height, and consisting of four tons of cut glass. So exquisitely is it
arranged that no metal, either of joint or pipe, can be seen. It is "one
entire and perfect chrysolite." From its lofty summit issues forth a
dome of water, which separates, and falls in prismatic showers into a
spacious basin beneath. There are three other fountains, but this is the
monarch of all. On either side of this beautiful production of a
Birmingham manufacturer are two equestrian statues of the queen and
Prince Albert, about which I cannot speak in admiration. Groups of
figures line the sides of the transept, and there is a Puck which I
would like all friends to look at. O, he is alive with fun, and there
marble speaks and laughs.
We have been greatly delighted with the English room of sculpture. There
is a fine portrait statue of Flaxman, from the chisel of Franks; a very
clever statue of John Wesley; but if I were to chronicle all the
sculptures here, I may as well write a catalogue at once. But before I
quit the subject of marble, let me just allude to the Italian gallery.
There the specimens are indeed exquisite, and remind us that the genius
of art yet loves to linger in the "land of the cypress and myrtle"--in
that beautiful country
"Where the poet's eye and painter's hand
Are most divine."
Among the gems of marble is one which I told, you was the only possible
rival of Powers's Greek Slave. This lovely production is "the Veiled
Vesta." It represents a young and exquisitely-formed girl, kneeling and
offering her oblation of the sacred fire. Her face is veiled; but every
feature is distinctly visible, as it were, through the folds which cover
her face. So wonderfully is the veil-like appearance produced, that
myself and others were almost inclined to believe that some trick of art
had been practised, and a film of gauze actually hung over the features.
It was not so, however; the hard marble, finely managed, alone caused
the deception. Raffael Monti, of Milan, is the illustrious artist of
"the Veiled Vesta."
One of the most interesting machines in the whole exhibition is the
envelope machine of Messrs. De la Rue & Co., of London. In its
operations it more resembles the efforts of human intellect than any
thing I have seen before in machinery. It occupies but a small space,
and is worked by a little boy. In a second, and as if by magic, a blank
piece of paper is folded, gummed, and stamped, and, in fact, converted
into a perfect envelope. As soon as finished, a pair of steel fingers
picks it up, lays it aside, and pushes it out of the way in the most
orderly manner possible. These envelopes, so made, are given to all who
choose to accept them. Opposite to this machine is the stand of
Gillott, of steel pen celebrity. Here are pens of all sizes, and of
various materials. One monster pen might fit a Brobdignagian fist, for
it is two feet long, and has a nib one quarter of an inch broad; and
there are others so small that no one but a Liliputian lady could use
them. Between these extremes are others of various dimensions, arranged
in a very tasteful manner. Something must be got out of this branch of
business, for it is only a month or two since Mr. Gillott purchased an
estate for ninety thousand pounds sterling. Here, too, is a novelty--the
model of St. Stephen's Church, Bolton, Lancashire. The model and the
church itself are both composed of terra cotta. This material was also
employed in the construction of the principal fittings, such as the
screen, pews, organ gallery, pulpit, &c. This is a new adaptation of
terra cotta. The spire severely tests its capabilities, as it is of open
Gothic, or tracery work.
A large model of Liverpool is beautifully constructed to scale, and must
be the result of immense labor. It is twenty-five feet long, and
exhibits at a glance a bird's eye view of the town, the docks, the River
Mersey, and the adjacent places. Hundreds of miniature vessels, amongst
them the Great Britain, crowd the docks; fleets of merchantmen are seen
on the Mersey, sailing to and from the port; and in the busy streets,
so minutely delineated that any particular house may be distinguished,
numerous vehicles are seen, and hundreds, too, of pygmy men and women
are observed walking in the public ways. In short; it is Liverpool in a
glass case, and no mean exhibition in itself.
The Thames Plate Glass Company exhibit the largest plate of glass in the
world; its dimensions are eighteen feet eight inches by ten feet. There
is not a blemish on its brilliant surface, and it is as "true" as
possible. It is placed in such a position that it reflects the whole
length of the main avenue of the Crystal Palace, and the effect produced
is superb. A Catholic bookseller from Belgium makes quite a display of
his editions of devotional works for every country under heaven; and
there, too, are the effigies of Cardinal Boromeo, Thomas a Becket, and
the late Archbishop of Paris, all arrayed in full pontificals. Their
crosiers are very richly jewelled. If the apostles of Christ could
revisit the earth, they would never fancy that these were their
successors in the work and patience of the gospel.
Few things have impressed me more than the exquisite carvings and
elaborate work of the cabinet ware; and I must, Charley, try to describe
one piece of furniture which excites universal praise. It is a cabinet
made by John Stevens, of Taunton. It was prepared at great cost, and is
the gem of the carved work in the exhibition. The wood of which it was
composed was a walnut-tree, which, not long ago, flourished near
Taunton. In order that you may not suppose, I praise every thing too
highly, and without sufficient ground for admiration, I shall give you a
particular description of this incomparable piece of furniture. It
represents, in four beautifully carved male figures, executed after the
style of Gibbons, the periods of Youth, Manhood, Maturity, and Old Age,
whilst other four (female) figures, beautifully brought up in good
relief, are representative of the Passions. Here there was an
opportunity for displaying some fine needlework; and Miss Kingsbury, a
lady of the town, who has received from the hand of royalty a reward for
her talents, has turned the opportunity to good account, and produced
some appropriate work, displaying a skill truly astonishing. This is not
the least attractive portion of the cabinet, and, as we shall again,
have to advert to it in its order, we leave it for the present. The
carved figure of the Youth represents him at twenty years of age. The
countenance is finely wrought, and marks the innocency and candor of the
young heart; the open brow, the love-lighted eye, all exemplifying
characteristics of that period of life, untrammelled with care or
anxious thought. In his hair, well brought out from the solid wood, is
intertwined the violet, the primrose, and the cow-slip, emblematical of
the season--being the spring time of life. In the right hand of the
figure is attached a portion of a festoon of carved flowers, which
connects it with the other four figures. The left hand is extended,
pointing to Manhood. This figure denotes the period when forty summers
have ripened the man, and brought the noblest work of God to that stage
of his more powerful intellect, his keener judgment, stronger frame, and
more lasting energy. These characteristics are most admirably depicted.
In his locks are carved the rose, the lily, the pink, and the carnation,
the strawberry and the gooseberry--emblematical of the summer time of
life. In the right hand the figure receives the festoon of flowers from
Youth, and in the left it supports the frame of the cabinet. The festoon
is carried on to Maturity, which represents the time when sixty years
bring him to the period of decline. Its right hand assists, with the
left of that of Manhood, in supporting the cabinet. Encircling his brow
are corn ears and wine cups, together with barley, wheat, grapes, and
hops, the whole of which are most elaborately and finely chiselled. The
hand of Maturity points downward to Old Age. The furrowed brow, the
sunken cheek, the dim and glassy eye observable in this figure, conveys
the mournful intelligence that the sand of life is fast approaching its
last little grain. The bent form and the thoughtful brow tell that
Time, the consumer of all things, has also ravaged a once erect and
powerful frame. The contemplation of this figure, beautifully executed
as it is, intuitively inculcates a serious consideration of the value
and blessings of a temperate; and well-spent life; it induces a
thoughtful reflection that a life of goodness alone insures an end of
peace. The holly, the mistletoe, the ivy, the acorn shell, the leafless
branch, and the fruitless vine encircle the brow-fit emblems of the
period which marks an exchange of time for eternity. All the figures are
rendered complete by a carved lion's foot, at the bottom of each, and
above the feet is a connecting frame, to make that portion of the stand
perfect. Between the figures of Spring and Summer are carved flowers and
fruit in great profusion, emblematical of the seasons, and forming a
fine piece of work; it represents the all-important fact that time
flies, by an hourglass borne on the wings of a splendidly-carved eagle,
and suspending from the bird's beak are the letters, curiously wrought,
forming TEMPUS FUGIT. This rests on a globe, representative of
the earth, which is half sunk in a shell of water, overflowing the wheel
of time, and shedding on fruit and flowers its refreshing dew. The space
between the figures of Autumn and Winter is filled with carvings of the
chrysanthemum, holly, ivy, and autumn fruit, intertwined with
consummate skill and taste. The garland, or festoon, which is carried
through, and sustained, as before stated, by each of the four figures,
is composed of every flower indigenous to this part of the land, and
introduced emblematically to the time in which they severally bloom.