many eminent churchmen have been interred. The next is St. Edmond's,
which contains twenty monuments; the monument of the Earl of Pembroke,
brother of Henry III.; he died 1298. Here, too, are tombs of children of
Edward II. and Edward III. I noticed a very fine brass monument, which
represents a Duchess of Gloucester in her dress as a nun, dated 1399.
There is, too, the effigy of the Duchess of Suffolk, mother of poor Lady
Jane Grey. The third is St. Nicholas's Chapel, where is seen Lord
Burleigh's monument. The fourth is the Virgin Mary's Chapel, called
Henry VII.'s Chapel, and the ascent to which is by twelve or fourteen
steps. This glorious room consists of a central aisle, with five small
chapels and two side aisles. Here you see the stalls and banners of the
Knights of the Bath, who were formerly installed in this chapel. The
altar tomb of Henry VII. is truly beautiful; Lord Bacon said, "It is one
of the costliest and daintiest tombs in Europe." Here are tombs of his
mother, and the mother of Lord George Darnley, and Mary, Queen of Scots,
and the Duke of Buckingham, Queen Elizabeth, and Queen Mary. Here, too,
is a sarcophagus, which is supposed to contain the remains of Edward V.
and the Duke of York, discovered in the Tower in the seventeenth
century, in a box. Charles II., William and Mary, and Queen Anne are in
a vault on the south aisle. George II. and his queen, Caroline, lie
together, a side being taken out of each coffin. The fifth chapel is St.
Paul's. The most striking object here is a colossal portrait statue of
James Watt, the great steam-engine perfecter, if not inventor. This is
by Chantrey, and cost six thousand pounds, and seems quite out of place.
Archbishop Usher lies in this chapel. The sixth chapel, called Edward
the Confessor's, pleased me greatly. In the centre is the shrine of the
monarch saint; it is rich in mosaic adornments. The altar tomb of Henry
III. is very grand, and there is a noble bronze statue of the king.
Edward I. is here, and in 1774 his body was found almost entire. Edward
III. and Philippa, his queen, have tombs. Here, too, was Henry V., the
hero of Agincourt, Richard II. and queen. We were delighted with the two
coronation chairs; in one is the old stone of Scone, on which the early
Scotch kings used to be crowned. Edward I. carried it off, and it has
ever since figured in English coronations. It is a large piece of red
and gray sandstone, and claims to have been the veritable pillow on
which Jacob slept. The seventh chapel is that of St. Erasmus, and leads
to the eighth, which is John the Baptist's. Here rest the early abbots
of the church. It contains a very fine monument to Lord Hunsdon,
chamberlain to Queen Bess. Just outside, in the aisle, we found the
noble monument to General Wolfe, and the celebrated work of Roubilliac
in memory of Mrs. Nightingale, where death is seen throwing his dart at
the wife, who falls into her husband's arms.
All over this noble abbey did we wander again and again in repeated
visits, and admire the finest statuary we have ever seen. Roubilliac was
a wonderful genius, and his monument to Sir Peter Warren is exquisite.
The works of Bacon, Flaxman, Nollekins, Chantrey, and Westmacott have
made me in love with statuary; and I long to see the great works which
are to be seen on the continent.
Many of the tablets and statues are only honorary, as the persons
commemorated were not buried here; as Shakspeare, Southey, Thomson,
Goldsmith, Dr. Watts, &c. I could spend hours looking at Roubilliac's
monument for the Duke of Argyle and his statue for Handel.
We attended divine service one Sunday afternoon, and heard a very fine
sermon from Lord John Thynne. The abbey was crowded; the music the best
I ever heard in a church; the preacher was quite eloquent; and Dr. C.
observed that it was the most evangelical sermon he had heard in
England. The subject was on justification by faith:
I may forget many things that I shall see on our travels, but I think
that this abbey will never vanish from my recollection. I shall always
remember the very position of these great works of art and genius; and I
am more than repaid for all the labor of a voyage.
Yours affectionately,
WELD.
Letter 22.
LONDON.
DEAR CHARLEY:--
No one comes to London without being told by every one to go and see the
parks; so we have been to see these fine breathing places. Hyde Park is
about four hundred acres, and has as many as half a dozen great
entrances. Its position is high, and it is the great drive of the people
of fashion. If you want to see London, you must come here on a fine
summer day in June, at about four o'clock, and you will gaze on the
finest and gayest equipages of England. A very pretty piece of water is
in this park, which is called "the Serpentine River." The best skating
of London is to be seen here, we are told, in hard winters. The entrance
from Piccadilly is by a fine threefold arch. Here is the great Achilles
of bronze, in honor of Wellington, made out of the cannon which the duke
captured in Spain. St. James's and the Green Park: this is the oldest in
London, and was made by Henry VIII. A fine arch affords entrance from
Piccadilly, having a bronze colossal equestrian statue of the Duke of
Wellington. You get grand views of the Abbey towers, Buckingham Palace,
the York Column, and other objects of interest. The two parks are about
one hundred and fifty acres. Regent's Park is one of the most
attractive spots in this great city. Here are villas of the finest kind.
Some of the prettiest terraces and rows of houses about London are here
to be seen. This park contains nearly five hundred acres, and, among
other attractions, the Botanical and Zooelogical Gardens, and the
Coliseum. Victoria Park, near Bethnal Green, is a new one, of about
three hundred acres; but we did not visit it.
Besides these, there are more than thirty squares, some of which are
very beautiful, and are finely planted and adorned. Belgrave Square is
exceedingly rich in its appearance; the houses are built in the
Corinthian order.
Northumberland House, at Charing Cross, is the city residence of the
Duke of Northumberland. This, externally, has no great beauty, but is
surmounted by the lion of the Percy family. It was built in 1605. This
noble mansion has been politely opened by its proprietor to the visits
of the foreigners who are here at the exhibition. It is a princely
mansion; and, although we had recently been to Windsor, and seen the
royal residence, yet we thought this palace home almost regal in its
splendor. The staircase is splendid, and the apartments are very
magnificent. The hall and drawing-rooms are quite equal, in decorations
and paintings, to the rooms at Windsor. We were much pleased with two
large pictures--a fox and deer hunt, by Snyders; but there were so
many, that it is difficult to single out those we admired. There are
some beautiful paintings of Napoleon, and exquisite carvings in ivory.
In one of the saloons we were all struck with a large Sevres china vase,
presented to the Duke of Northumberland by Charles X., at his
coronation, at which occasion the duke was present as ambassador
extraordinary, and made a most astonishing display of English wealth and
liberality.
Sion House, near Brentford, is another palace belonging to the duke.
This noble mansion is on the banks of the Thames, and is composed of
freestone. It is very gorgeously furnished, and the hothouses and
conservatories are not much, if any, inferior to Chatsworth. This
mansion has also, been opened to visitors from abroad, and we received
orders from the minister.
One of the sweetest features about the metropolis, to my taste, is the
vast number of charming villages that surround it. Go where you may, you
fall in with cottages, villas, and mansions, that convey to the mind the
ideas of comfort, elegance, and wealth.
I find from Weld that he forgot to tell you that we went to St.
Margaret's Church, which stands only a few yards off from Westminster
Abbey. This is a very old building, and said to be of the days of Edward
I. In this very building the celebrated fast-day sermons of the Long
Parliament were preached, and I felt much interest in thinking how often
Cromwell, Pym, Peters, and Harrison had worshipped God in that house. In
this church, too, the Assembly of Divines worshipped, and also the
Scotch commissioners, and took the covenant. This church boasts a
painted window of exquisite beauty, which came as a present, from
Holland, to Henry VII.; and the historical associations of this window
are very curious, and well worth your reading about. The monuments of
this sanctuary are far from being devoid of interest. I may name, among
others, those to Caxton, Sir Walter Raleigh, Sir James Harrington,
author of the great book, "Oceana," the wife of Milton, the mother of
Cromwell, all of whom are here interred.
While I am speaking of churches, let me tell you that, close by our
hotel, is a very fine one, that pleases me exceedingly. It is called St.
Martin's-in-the-Fields, but is at present quite central as it regards
the metropolis. I think the portico is to my eye equal to any piece of
architecture in London. It was built in 1726. A church stood here for
many centuries; and in 1680, Baxter said that forty thousand people of
the parish could not get into the church; and he adds that they "lived
like Americans, without hearing a sermon for many years." This church
has an exquisite chime of bells, and they very much amused me every
morning.
Yours affectionately,
JAMES.
Letter 23.
LONDON.
DEAR CHARLEY:--
I have not written you for some time. But today I have seen a number of
things which I am sure you would be pleased with, and so I will tell you
about them. Early in the morning we went to see the Mansion House. This
is the dwelling-house of the lord mayor of London. It is a fine-looking
building, but has a queer upper story, with small windows, which look
badly, over the noble pillars and portico. The great room used for
public occasions is the Egyptian Hall, for what reason does not appear
from any thing about it. Here the lord mayor has his great feasts. I
should like to be in London on the 9th of November, which is his day of
inauguration; and this is the great day for Londoners. He rides in a
large carved gilt carriage. I believe he goes to Westminster by water,
in a splendid barge, and comes back in his coach. The salary is eight
thousand pounds; but the expenses are beyond this amount, and some
persons refuse to serve, and pay a fine of five hundred pounds; but
this is a rare case, and enough are ready to pay for the honor. In the
city the mayor ranks before the royal family. The title of "your
lordship" ceases at the expiration of his office.
Our next visit was to the Royal Exchange, a very noble quadrangle, which
was finished in 1844. It stands finely between the Bank of England and
the Mansion House, and in front there is a sort of open space, or
widening of the streets. This is the third building which has occupied
the same spot--the two earlier ones were both burnt down. The original
Exchange was built by Sir Thomas Gresham, and opened by Queen Elizabeth
in 1570. It was copied from the famous Burse at Antwerp, which still
stands. It is singular that, in the great fires of 1666 and 1838, the
statue of Sir Thomas Gresham escaped uninjured. The Exchange is built of
Portland stone, and already has acquired, from the smoke of London, a
venerable tinge. The portico, I am told, is the largest in the kingdom;
but the one at St. Martin's Church I like better. Crossing over the
road, we were at the Bank of England. This is a truly immense affair.
The walls measure fourteen hundred and sixty feet. It wad built in 1734,
but has had many alterations and additions, and now covers four acres.
We did not go into it.
The docks of London are among the attractions of the place. They are
called St. Catharine's, London, East India, West India, Commercial, &c.
These are tar too great an affair for me to describe; and to look at
them, and then think of writing an account, is very much like a small
boy opening a book of mathematics and trying to understand it. What do
you think of the tobacco warehouse, at the docks covering five acres?
Then the tea in bonded warehouses was worth twenty-five millions of
dollars; and there are ten millions of pounds of pepper, six millions of
gallons of wine, and other things in proportion. I inquired about the
shipping, and was told that there were about four thousand seven hundred
and fifty vessels, and eighty thousand seamen, employed in the foreign
commerce of the city; and beyond all this, twenty-one thousand coasting
vessels, averaging five or six men to each craft. Nothing in London
amazes us like these docks. Here you see Malays, Turks, Lascars,
Chinese, Russians, Portuguese, Dutch, French, Negroes, and men of all
nations.
We went several times to walk through Covent Garden Market, and to see
it to advantage you must go very early in the morning. The supply of
fruits and flowers is perfectly astonishing, and the perfume is very
fine. You little imagine, Charley, the prices that early vegetables and
fruits fetch. A cucumber and onion, wrapped up in grape leaves, will,
in February, March, and early part of April, find purchasers at two,
three, and four dollars. Strawberries, peaches, and pines are sold in
early season at what we should think "awful" prices. The hothouse grapes
are very beautiful, and the vegetable productions are more carefully
raised, and in greater variety, than with us. If you want to know all
about Covent Garden Market, you must read Mayhew on London Labor--a nice
book.
We boys had a treat the other day at an autograph collector's. His
collection was large and rare, but his prices very high. I have saved a
catalogue for you.
To-morrow we are off for the continent, and we are very busy in making
our arrangements; so I must close. Our next will be from _La Belle
France._
Yours affectionately,
GEORGE.
Letter 24.
PARIS.
DEAR CHARLEY:--
On a fine morning we left London, by rail, for Dover, in company with
the Rev. Dr. Murray, of New Jersey, and Dr. Chetwood, who made quite a
pleasant addition to our party. On reaching Dover, we were gratified
with the commanding position of the castle, which stands upon the white
chalky cliffs so celebrated by Shakspeare. The town lies in a charming
valley. Dover boasts of high antiquity. The Saxons and Romans both left
enduring memorials of their residence. Its importance was felt at a very
early day, on account of its being the best and authorized port to carry
on intercourse with France. Dover Castle was a strong fortification when
William the Conqueror landed. We found a steamer ready to start, and in
a few minutes were all on board. The Straits of Dover are but twenty-one
miles wide; and yet, in this short passage of barely two hours, we all
suffered sadly from sea sickness. The boat was small, the passengers
were numerous, and all were thankful to plant their feet upon the soil
of the republic. The examination of our passports, and refreshment at
the station-house, occupied about half an hour, and we again entered on
our journey by the rail. I shall say nothing of the place, at present,
as we fully intend to pass a day here, on our return, to examine this
interesting old city. We found the cars good, the railroad excellent but
every thing looked strange. No farms laid out in fine fields, and
divided off by hedges, as in England; or fences and stone walls, as with
us. We every where noticed women working in the field. We passed through
St. Omer, a fortified town, of twenty thousand inhabitants. This is a
town where many English Catholics have been sent for education. We then
came to Lille, which looked like a large city. It has about seventy
thousand inhabitants. The fortifications look very strong, and were
constructed by the great Vauban. This place has been besieged several
times--once by the Duke of Marlborough, for three months, when it
surrendered under Marshal Boufflers. We were amazed at the vast number
of windmills--amounting to hundreds--every where to be seen around the
town; and the tall chimneys in the town tell plainly that this is a
great manufacturing place. The windmills are employed in preparing flax
for linen.
Douai was our next town. It has about eighteen thousand inhabitants, and
has a foundery for ordnance. The Theological Seminary here has been
famous, and most of the Catholic clergy of England and Ireland were
formerly educated here. Arras is a town of about twenty-five thousand
population, and is celebrated as the birthplace of Robespierre. It is
said to be a very beautiful place, but we saw little of it. The cars
next passed through Amiens, a city of about fifty thousand inhabitants.
It was at this city that a treaty of peace was made between France and
England, in 1802. Clermont is a very neat little town, of about five
thousand inhabitants. It has a fine old castle, and every thing looked
lively and prosperous. Pontoise, on the River Oise, is a small town;
and I should think that, from the upper part of the town, the prospect
is very beautiful.
We reached Paris in about eleven hours and a half from London. Really,
this seems very strange, that I should breakfast in London and dine at
Paris. After having our luggage examined at the station, by the police,
we repaired at once to the Hotel Windsor, on the Rue Rivoli. This was
the hotel where Dr. C. had his quarters, fifteen years ago; and is it
not strange that we have the same suite of rooms that he then occupied?
We have a fine drawing-room, a dining-room, and three good chambers. Our
hotel is exactly opposite the gardens of the Tuileries, and is in the
pleasantest part of the city. James, you know, was once here for three
months; and he has quite a knowledge of the city, and seems perfectly at
home. We take our breakfast in our apartments or the coffee-room, as
suits us best, at about nine o'clock; our dinners in some good _cafe_,
in various parts of the city, or at the _table d'hote_, at Meurice's
Hotel, which is just next door to us. In calling on one or two persons,
we found them in old apartments, but quite noble rooms, as high up as
four and five stories; and we hear that many families live in the same
building, and that many very respectable people live in the sixth, and
even seventh story. This I should never like. Whenever we go out, we
leave our key with the _concierge_ or his wife, who live in a snug
little apartment just inside the great gate, which opens into a
well-paved court. We have determined not to engage a guide in Paris,
because it is often annoying to have a coarse, vulgar mind disturbing
you, when all you ask is silence and your own reflections. It is quite a
mistake to suppose that you cannot get along without a _valet de
place_--for in every hotel, and almost every large establishment, there
are persons to be found who speak English. We paid our respects to our
good friend the consul, and found him very comfortably settled down in
his office, and residing in excellent style. A pleasant evening with his
family made us all think of our old times on board the Arctic. The day
after we arrived was James's birthday, and he was to give us a dinner,
and had invited the consul and his son to dine with us. Well, at five we
met at the consulate, and we boys walked ahead with Mr. G., Jr., leaving
the doctor and the consul to bring up the rear. He supposed that his
father understood where he proposed to take us, and so we went on
speedily. In the Rue Vivienne they lost sight of us; we arrived at the
Cafe Vachette, on the boulevards, and ordered dinner for the party. The
gentlemen, however, kept walking the street for two hours. At last they
gave up the matter as a bad case, and took refuge for a late dinner by
themselves in a neighboring _cafe_. At nine we all met, sadly
disappointed. The pleasant occasion had been quite disarranged, and some
hard jokes passed upon our want of tact in not sending out scouts to
search the Rue Vivienne, with the geography of which the doctor declares
he is now perfectly acquainted--having tramped it for two hours with the
consul. Of course, we all have to take their jokes upon our defrauding
them of a fine dinner. We have dined since at the _Trois Freres
Provencaux_, which has the reputation of being one of the best _cafes_
in Paris. Our room commanded a perfect view of the quadrangle of the
Palais Royal, and the spectacle was highly interesting. The
accommodations of the room we occupied were very fine; and nothing could
surpass the beauty of the table linen, plate, &c. We are about to
commence the sights of the city in earnest, and are this evening to
arrange our plans.
Yours affectionately,
GEORGE.
Letter 25.
PARIS.
DEAR CHARLEY:--
I like this city very much--every one seems so happy out of doors. Not
only the poor, but the wealthy, are fond of the open air; and a great
deal of time is spent in the gardens and on the boulevards. Every place
seems to have provision made for the enjoyment of the people. Ices and
lemonade are to be found wherever you go. The appearance of the streets
in Paris is much gayer than those of London. You see a much greater
number of women walking out, and they are generally very neatly dressed.
But the streets do not look as substantial as they do in London. If
there is more that is imposing, there is less that keeps up your wonder.
I do not feel able to think that the people here have much business to
do, for every one seems to be engaged in pleasure; and yet there are
great concerns going on, and the fine manufactures of this city are only
to be done by labor and attention. Nothing, at our first glances at the
city, have pleased us more than the profusion of flowers every where to
be seen. It is quite common to see men with a rose in the button hole,
or a beautiful carnation. The roses are my admiration. I never saw such
beauties before; and whether it is owing to the climate, or to
scientific cultivation, I know not, but certainly I never have beheld
such variety or perfection. In the flower shops you will find very large
bunches of rosebuds, each bunch made up exclusively of buds of one size,
from the dimensions of a pea in all gradations up to the diameter of a
half dollar--not a leaf opened, simply a bouquet of rosebuds, and the
whole embowered in a delicate sheet of white paper. I reckoned the
contents of one, and found two hundred and sixty-seven buds not larger
than a common pea, and the price was only a franc. The moss roses are
beyond all my conceptions of floral beauty; and, go where I may, I find
every niche of ground adorned with standard roses of various hues, and
the walls and windows are beautified with brilliant geraniums, which are
evidently great favorites.
We had a funny affair yesterday. We all went to make a call upon Mr.
D----, and found his residence in a splendid part of the city; but,
instead of being ushered into his drawing-room, we were brought into the
saloon of no less a personage than the Lord Bishop of Jamaica! He
politely directed us to the next apartment, where we spent an agreeable
hour with the family, and found that similar mistakes occur almost
daily.
Our first tramp for a sight was to Notre Dame; and I shall never forget,
Charley, my first view of this cathedral. The exterior is more striking
than any church edifice that I have yet seen. No engraving can afford a
fair idea of its grandeur to one who has not seen it, though it will
help my mind, to recall its beauties whenever I see the picture. You are
so well read about Paris, that I hardly need tell you that eight
centuries have rolled away since Notre Dame was built. It is regarded as
the noblest Gothic pile in France, and is the pride of Paris. The front
is one hundred and twenty feet wide, and the richness of the carvings
upon the exterior is wonderful. I am really glad to see that great pains
are taking to restore and adorn this church. The decayed stones are
taken out, and new ones replaced, and the carvings also are renewed
where necessary, so that future ages may see what so delights us. The
two towers are forty feet square and two hundred high, and you ascend by
a staircase of four hundred steps. The form of the church is that of the
Latin cross. Its dimensions inside are four hundred feet by one hundred
and forty, and the height is one hundred feet. All through the cathedral
is a line of Gothic arches supported by columns, and, as you enter the
great door, you see the entire edifice. The walls look bare to my eye,
in spite of the paintings. We were much pleased at seeing the spot where
Napoleon was crowned; and George was in ecstasies, for you know how
thoroughly he goes in for his beau ideal of the hero. Here are, the
splendid candelabra which the emperor gave on the occasion. We heard
mass, but the service was very formal, and the priest might have been a
real downeaster, for he had a horrid nasal twang, and his
"_sanctissime_" was "_shanktissime_." The history of these churches is
strange, and I think a pretty good book might be written on the romance
of church architecture. The portal of the north aisle of the choir was
erected by a vile assassin, the Duke of Burgundy, who murdered his
cousin, the Duke of Orleans, in 1407. This, of course, was his penance,
and fully expiated his crime. The great bell weighs thirty-two thousand
pounds, and was baptized in presence of Louis XIV., and is called
Emanuel Louise Therese, after his queen. I cannot attempt to describe
the beauties of this building, inside or out. The exterior is all flying
buttresses, crocketed pinnacles, and sculpture. Inside you see chapel
after chapel; and as to windows of painted glass, they are studies for
hours. The rose windows are exquisite.