In the autumn of 1830 Mr. Maudslay went to Berlin for the purpose of
superintending the erection of machinery at the Royal Mint there.
He intended to be absent from London for about a month; and he kindly
permitted me to take my holiday during that period.
I had been greatly interested by the descriptions in the newspapers of
the locomotive competition at Rainhill, near Liverpool. I was,
therefore, exceedingly anxious to see Stephenson's "Rocket," the engine
that had won the prize. Taking with me letters of introduction from
Mr. Maudslay to persons of influence at Liverpool, I left London for
the north on the afternoon of Saturday the 9th of September 1830.
I took my place on the outside of the Liverpool coach, which set out
from "The Swan with Two Necks," in Lad Lane, City, one of the most
celebrated coach-offices in those days
The first part of the journey to Liverpool was very dismal.
The night was wet. The rain came pouring down, and no sort of
wrappings could keep it out. The outside passengers became thoroughly
soaked. On we went, however, as fast as four horses could carry us.
Next morning we reached Coventry, when the clouds cleared away,
and the sun at last burst forth. I could now enjoy this charming part
of old England. Although I had only a hasty glimpse in passing of the
quaint streets and ancient buildings of the town I was perfectly
delighted with the specimens of ancient domestic architecture which
I saw. At that time Coventry was quite a museum of that interesting
class of buildings. The greater part of them have since been swept away
in the so-called improvement of modern builders, none of whose works
can ever so attract an artistic eye.
During the rest of the day the journey was delightful. Though the
inside passengers had had the best of it during the night, the outside
passengers had the best of it now. To go scampering across the country
on the top of the coach, passing old villages, gentlemen's parks, under
old trees, along hedges tinged with autumn tints, up hill and down
dale, sometimes getting off the coach to lighten the load, and walking
along through the fields by a short cut to meet it farther on; all this
was most enjoyable. It gave me a new interest in the happier aspects
of English scenery, and of rural and domestic life in the pretty
old-fashioned farm buildings that we passed on our way. Indeed, there
was everything to delight the eye of the lover of the picturesque
during the course of that bright autumnal day.
The coach reached Liverpool on Sunday night. I took up my quarters at
a commercial inn in Dale Street, where I found every comfort which
I desired at moderate charges. Next morning, without loss of time,
I made my way to the then terminus of the Liverpool and Manchester
Railway; and there, for the first time, I saw the famous "Rocket"
The interest with which I beheld this distinguished and celebrated
engine was much enhanced by seeing it make several short trial trips
under the personal management of George Stephenson, who acted as
engineman, while his son Robert acted as stoker. During their trips of
four or five miles along the line the "Rocket" attained the speed of
thirty miles an hour--a speed then thought almost incredible! It was
to me a most memorable and interesting sight, especially to see the
father and son so appropriately engaged in working the engine that was
to effect so great a change in the communications of the civilised
world. I spent the entire day in watching the trial trips,
in examining the railway works, and such portions of of their details
as I could obtain access to. About mid-day the "Rocket" was at rest
for about an hour near where I stood; and I eagerly availed myself of
the opportunity of making a careful sketch of the engine, which I still
preserve.
The line was opened on the 15th of September, when the famous "Rocket"
led the way in conducting the first train of passengers from Liverpool
to Manchester. There were present on that occasion thousands of
spectators, many of whom had come from distant parts of the kingdom to
witness this greatest of all events in the history of railway locomotion.
During my stay in Liverpool I visited the vast range of magnificent
docks which extend along the north bank of the Mersey, all of which
were crowded with noble merchant ships, some taking in cargoes of
British manufactures, and others discharging immense stores of cotton,
sugar, tobacco, and foreign produce. The sight was most interesting,
and gave me an impressive idea of the mighty functions of a
manufacturing nation--energy and intelligence, working through
machinery, increasing the value of raw materials and enabling them to
be transported for use to all parts of the civilised world.
Mr. Maudslay having given me a letter of introduction to his old friend
William Fawcett, head of the firm of Fawcett, Preston, and Company,
engineers, I went over their factory. They were engaged in producing
sugar mills for the West Indies, and also in manufacturing the
steam-engines for working them. The firm had acquired great reputation
for their workmanship; and their shops were crowded with excellent
specimens of their skill. Everything was in good order;
their assortment of machine tools was admirable. Mr. Fawcett, who
accompanied me, was full in his praises of my master, whom he regarded
as the greatest pioneer in the substitution of the unerring accuracy of
machine tools for the often untrustworthy results of mere manual
labour.
I cannot resist referring to the personal appearance and manner of this
excellent gentleman, William Fawcett. His peculiar courteous manner,
both in speech and action, reminded me of the "grand old Style"
Which I had observed in some of my father's oldest noble employers,
and the representations given of them by some of our best actors.
There was also a dignified kindliness about his manner that was quite
peculiar to himself; and when he conducted me through his busy
workshops, the courtly yet kindly manner in which he addressed his
various foremen and others, was especially cheering. When I first
presented my letter of introduction from Henry Maudslay, he was sitting
at a beautiful inlaid escritoire table with his letters arrayed before
him in the most neat and perfect order. The writing table stood on a
small Turkey carpet apart from the clerks' desks in the room, but so
near to them that he could readily communicate with them. His neat
old-fashioned style of dress quite harmonised with his advanced age,
and the kindly yet dignified grace of his manner left a lasting
impression on me as a most interesting specimen of "the fine old
English gentleman, quite of the olden time."
I spent another day in crossing the Mersey to Birkenhead--then a very
small collection of buildings--wandered about the neighbourhood.
I had my sketch-book with me, and made a drawing of Liverpool from the
other side of the river. Close to Birkenhead were some excellent bits
of scenery, old and picturesque farmhouses, overshadowed with venerable
oaks, with juttings-out of the New Red Sandstone rocks, covered with
heather, furze, and broom, with pools of water edged with all manner of
effective water plants. They formed capital subjects for the artistic
pencil, especially when distant peeps of the Welsh hills came into the
prospect. I made several sketches, and they kept company with my
graphic memoranda of architectural and mechanical objects. I may here
mention that on my return to London I showed them to my brother
Patrick, and some of them so much met his fancy that he borrowed my
sketch-book and painted some pictures from them, which at this day are
hanging on the walls of some of his admirers.
With the desire of seeing as much as possible of all that was
interesting in the mechanical, architectural and picturesque line,
on my return journey to London, I determined to walk, halting here and
there by the way. The season of the year and the state of the weather
were favourable for my purpose. I accordingly commenced my pedestrian
tour on Saturday morning, the 17th September. I set out for Manchester.
It was a long but pleasant walk. I well remember, when nearing
Manchester, that I sat down to rest for a time on Patricroft Bridge.
I was attracted by the rural aspect of the country, and the antique
cottages of the neighbourhood. The Bridgewater Canal lay before me,
and as I was told that it was the first mile of the waterway that the
great Duke had made, it became quite classic ground in my eyes.
I little thought at the time that I was so close to a piece of ground
that should afterwards become my own, and where I should for twenty
years carry on the most active and interesting business of my life.
I reached Manchester at seven in the evening, and took up my quarters
at the King's Arms Inn, Deansgate. Next day was Sunday. I attended
service in the Cathedral, then called the Old Church. I was much
interested by the service, as well as by the architecture of the
building. Some of the details were well worthy of attention, being
very original, and yet the whole was not of the best period of Gothic
architecture. Some of the old buildings about the Cathedral were very
interesting. They were of a most quaint character, yet bold and
effective. Much finely carved oak timber work was introduced into
them; and on the whole they gave a very striking illustration of the
style of domestic architecture which prevailed in England some three or
four centuries ago.
On the following day I called upon Mr. Edward Tootal, of York Street.
He was a well-known man in Manchester.
I had the happiness of meeting him in London a few months before.
He then kindly invited me to call upon him should I ever visit
Manchester, when he would endeavour to obtain for me sight of some of
the most remarkable manufacturing establishments. Mr. Tootal was as
good as his word. He received me most cordially, and at once proceeded
to take me to the extensive machine factory of Messrs. Sharp, Roberts,
and Co. I found to my delight that a considerable portion of the
establishment was devoted to the production of machine tools,
a department of mechanical business then rising into the highest
importance. Mr. Roberts, an admirable mechanic as well as inventor,
had derived many of his ideas on the subject while working with
Mr. Maudslay in London, and he had carried them out with many additions
and improvements of his own contrivance. Indeed, Roberts was one of
the most capable men of his time, and is entitled to be regarded as one
of the true pioneers of modern mechanical mechanism.
Through the kindness of Mr. Tootal I had also the opportunity of
visiting and inspecting some of the most extensive cotton mills in
Manchester. I was greatly pleased with the beautiful contrivances
displayed in the machinery. They were perfect examples of the highest
order of ingenuity, combined with that kind of common-sense which casts
aside all mere traditional forms and arrangements of parts, such as do
not essentially contribute to the efficiency of the machine in the
performance of its special and required purpose. I found much to
admire in the design as well as in the execution of the details of the
machines.
The arrangement and management of the manufactories were admirable.
The whole of the buildings, howsoever extensive and apparently
complicated, worked like one grand and perfectly constructed machine.
I was also much impressed by the keen interest which the proprietors of
these vast establishments took in the minute details of their
machinery, as well as by their intelligent and practical acquaintance
with the technical minutiae of their business. Although many of them
were men of fortune, they continued to take as deep an interest in such
matters as if they were beginning life and had their fortunes still to
make. Their chief ambition was to be at the head of a thoroughly
well-managed and prosperous establishment. No detail, be it ever so
small, was beneath their care and attention. To a young man like
myself, then about to enter upon a similar career of industry, these
lessons were very important. They were encouraging examples of
carefully thought out designs, carried into admirable results by close
attention to details, ever watchful carefulness, and indomitable
perseverance. I brooded over these circumstances, They filled my mind
with hope. They encouraged me to go on in the path which I had
selected; and I believed that at some time or other I might be enabled
to imitate the examples of zeal and industry which I had witnessed
during my stay in Manchester. It was then that I bethought me of
settling down in this busy neighbourhood; and as I plodded my way back
to London this thought continually occupied me. It took root in my mind
and grew, and at length the idea became a reality.
I did not take the shortest route on my return journey to London.
I desired to pass through the most interesting and picturesque places
without unduly diverging from the right direction. I wished to see the
venerable buildings and cathedrals of the olden time, as well as the
engineering establishments of the new. Notwithstanding my love for
mechanics I still retained a spice of the antiquarian feeling.
It enabled me to look back to the remote past, into the material
records of man's efforts hundreds of years ago, and contrast them with
the modern progress of arts and sciences. I was especially interested
in the architecture of bygone ages; but here, alas! arts and sciences
have done nothing. Modern Gothic architecture is merely an imitation
of the old, and often a very bad imitation. Even ancient domestic
architecture is much superior to the modern. We can now only imitate
it; and often spoil when imitating.
I left Manchester and turned my steps in the direction of Coalbrookdale.
I passed through a highly picturesque country, in which I enjoyed the
sight of many old timber houses, most attractive subjects for my pencil.
My route lay through Whitchurch, Wem, and Wellington; then past the
Wrekin to Coalbrookdale. Before arriving there I saw the first iron
bridge constructed in England, an object of historical interest in that
class of structures. It was because of the superb quality of the
castings produced at Coalbrookdale that the ironmasters there were able
to accomplish the building of a bridge of that material, which before
had baffled all projectors both at home and abroad
I possessed a letter of introduction to the manager, and was received
by him most cordially. He permitted me to examine the works.
I was greatly interested at the sight of the processes of casting.
Many beautiful objects were turned out for architectural, domestic,
and other purposes. I saw nothing particularly novel, however, in the
methods and processes of moulding and casting.
The excellence of the work depended for the most part upon the great
care and skill exercised by the workmen of the foundry. They seemed to
vie with each other in turning out the best castings, and their models
or patterns were made with the utmost care. I was particularly
impressed with the cheerful zeal and activity of the workmen and
foremen of this justly celebrated establishment.
On leaving Coalbrookdale I trudged my way towards Wolverhampton.
I rested at Shiffnal for the night. Next day I was in the middle of
the Black Country. I had no letters of introduction to employers in
Wolverhampton; so that, without stopping there, I proceeded at once to
Dudley. The Black Country is anything but picturesque. The earth
seems to have been turned inside out. Its entrails are strewn about;
nearly the entire surface of the ground is covered with cinder-heaps
and mounds of scoriae. The coal which has been drawn from below ground
is blazing on the surface. The district is crowded with iron furnaces,
puddling furnaces, and coal-pit engine furnaces. By day and by night
the country is glowing with fire, and the smoke of the ironworks hovers
over it. There is a rumbling and clanking of iron forges and rolling
mills. Workmen covered with smut, and with fierce white eyes, are seen
moving about amongst the glowing iron and the dull thud of forge-hammers.
Amidst these flaming, smoky, clanging works, I beheld the remains of
what had once been happy farmhouses, now ruined and deserted.
The ground underneath them had sunk by the working out of the coal,
and they were falling to pieces. They had in former times been
surrounded by clumps of trees; but only the skeletons of them remained,
dead, black, and leafless. The grass had been parched and killed by
the vapours of sulphurous acid thrown out by the chimneys; and every
herbaceous object was of a ghastly gray--the emblem of vegetable
death in its saddest aspect. Vulcan had driven out Ceres. In some
places I heard a sort of chirruping sound, as of some forlorn bird
haunting the ruins of the old farmsteads. But no! the chirrup was a
vile delusion. It proceeded from the shrill creaking of the
coal-winding chains, which were placed in small tunnels beneath the
hedgeless road.
I went into some of the forges to see the workmen at their labours.
There was no need of introduction; the works were open to all, for they
were unsurrounded by walls. I saw the white-hot iron run out from the
furnace; I saw it spun, as it were, into bars and iron ribbands, with
an ease and rapidity which seemed marvellous. There were also the
ponderous hammers and clanking rolling-mills. I wandered from one to
another without restraint. I lingered among the blast furnaces, seeing
the flood of molten iron run out from time to time, and remained there
until it was late. When it became dark the scene was still more
impressive. The workmen within seemed to be running about amidst the
flames as in a pandemonium; while around and outside the horizon was a
glowing belt of fire, making even the stars look pale and feeble.
At last I came away with reluctance, and made my way towards Dudley.
I reached the town at a late hour. I was exhausted in mind and body,
yet the day had been most interesting and exciting. A sound sleep
refreshed me, and I was up in the morning early, to recommence my
journey of inquiry,
I made my way to the impressive ruins of Dudley Castle, the remnant of
a very ancient stronghold, originally built by Dud, the Saxon.
The castle is situated on a finely wooded hill; it is so extensive that
it more resembles the ruins of a town than of a single building.
You enter through a treble gateway, and see the remnants of the moat,
the court, and the keep. Here are the central hall, the guard, rooms,
and the chapel. It must have been a magnificent structure. In the
Midlands it was known as the "Castle of the Woods" Now it is abandoned
by its owners, and surrounded by the Black Country. It is undermined
by collieries, and even penetrated by a canal. The castle walls
sometimes tremble when a blast occurs in the bowels of the mountain
beneath. The town of Dudley lies quite close to the castle, and was
doubtless protected by it in ancient times.
The architectural remains are of various degrees of antiquity, and are
well worthy of study, as embodying the successive periods which they
represent. Their melancholy grandeur is rendered all the more
impressive by the coal and iron works with which they are surrounded--
the olden type of buildings confronting the modern. The venerable
trees struggle for existence under the destroying influence of
sulphurous acid; while the grass is withered and the vegetation
everywhere blighted. I sat down on an elevated part of the ruins,
and looked down upon the extensive district, with its roaring and
blazing furnaces, the smoke of which blackened the country as far as
the eye could reach; and as I watched the decaying trees I thought of
the price we had to pay for our vaunted supremacy in the manufacture of
iron. We may fill our purses, but we pay a heavy price for it in the
loss of picturesqueness and beauty. I left the castle with reluctance,
and proceeded to inspect the limestone quarries in the neighbourhood.
The limestone has long been worked out from underneath the castle;
but not far from it is Wren's Nest Hill, a mountain of limestone.
The wrens have left, but the quarries are there. The walk to the hill
is along green lanes and over quiet fields. I entered one of the
quarries opened out in the sloping precipice, and penetrated as far as
the glimmer of sunlight enabled me to see my way. But the sound of the
dripping of water from the root of the cave warned me that I was
approaching some deep pool, into which a false step might plunge me.
I therefore kept within the light of day. An occasional ray of the sun
lit up the enormous rock pillars which the quarrymen had left to
support the roof. It was a most impressive sight.
Having emerged from the subterranean cave, I proceeded on my way to
Birmingham. I reached the town in the evening, and found most
comfortable quarters. On the following day I visited some of the
factories where processes were carried on in connection with the
Birmingham trade. I saw the mills where sheet brass and copper were
rolled for the purpose of being plated with silver. There was nothing
in these processes of novel interest, though I picked up many practical
hints. I could not fail to be attracted by the dexterous and rapid
manipulation of the work in hand, even by boys and girls whose quick
sight and nimble fingers were educated to a high degree of perfection.
I could have spent a month profitably among the vast variety of small
traders in metal, of which Birmingham is the headquarters.
Even in what is called "the toy trade," I found a vast amount of skill
displayed in the production of goldsmith work, in earrings, brooches,
gold chains, rings, beads, and glass eyes for stuffed birds, dolls, and
men.
I was especially attracted by Soho, once the famous manufacturing
establishment of Boulton and Watt. Although this was not the
birthplace*
[footnote...
The birthplace of the condensing engine of Watt was the workshop in the
Glasgow University, where he first contrived and used a separate
condenser--the true and vital element in Watt's invention.
The condenser afterwards attained its true effective manhood at Soho
The Newcomen engine was in fact a condensing engine, but as the
condensation was effected inside the steam cylinder it was a very
costly source of power in respect to steam. Watt's happy idea of
condensing in a separate vessel removed the defect. This was first
done in his experimental engine in the Glasgow University workshop,
and before he had made the one at Kinniel for Dr. Roebuck.
...]
of the condensing steam-engine it was the place where it attained its
full manhood of efficiency, and became the source and origin of English
manufacturing power. Watt's engine has had a greater influence on the
productive arts of mankind than any other that can be named. Boulton
also was a thorough man of business, without whom, perhaps, Watt could
never have made his way against the world, or perfected his magnificent
invention. Not less interesting to my mind was the memory of that
incomparable mechanic, William Murdoch, a man of indomitable energy,
and Watt's right-hand man in the highest practical sense. Murdoch was
the inventor of the first model locomotive, and the inventor of gas for
lighting purposes; and yet he always kept himself in the background,
for he was excessively modest. He was happiest when he could best
promote the welfare of the great house of Boulton and Watt. Indeed he
was a man whose memory ought to be held in the highest regard by all
true engineers and mechanics.
The sight which I obtained of the vast series of workshops of this
celebrated establishment--filled with evidences of the mechanical
genius of these master minds--made me feel that I was indeed on
classic ground in regard to everything connected with steam-engine
machinery. Some of the engines designed by Watt--the prototypes of
the powerful condensing engines of the present day--were still
performing their daily quota of work. There was "Old Bess,"
a sort of experimental engine, upon which Watt had tried many
adaptations and alterations, for the purpose of suiting it for pumping
water from coal mines. There was also the engine with the
sun-and-planet motion, an invention of William Murdoch's.
Both of these engines were still at work.
I went through the workshops, where I was specially interested by
seeing the action of the machine tools. There I observed Murdoch's
admirable system of transmitting power from one central engine to other
small vacuum engines attached to the individual machines they were set
to work. The power was communicated by pipes led from the central air
or exhaust pump to small vacuum or atmospheric engines devoted to the
driving of each separate machine, thus doing away with all shafting and
leather belts, the required speed being kept up or modified at pleasure
without in any way interfering with the other machines. --This vacuum
method of transmitting power dates from the time of Papin; but until it
received the masterly touch of Murdoch it remained a dead contrivance
for more than a century.
I concluded my visits to the workshops of Birmingham by calling upon a
little known but very ingenious man, whose work I had seen before
I left Edinburgh, in a beautifully constructed foot turning-lathe made
by John Drain. I was so much impressed with the exquisite design,
execution, and completeness of the lathe, that I made it one of my
chief objects to find out John Drain's workshop. It was with some
difficulty that I found him. He was little known in Birmingham.
His workshops were very small; they consisted of only one or two rooms.
His exquisite lathes were not much in demand. They found their way
chiefly to distant parts of the country, where they were highly
esteemed.
I found that he had some exquisitely finished lathes completed and in
hand for engraving the steel plates for printing bank notes. They were
provided with the means of producing such intricate ornamental patterns
as to defy the utmost skill of the forger. Perkins had done a good
deal in the same way; but Drain's exquisite mechanism enabled his
engraving lathes to surpass anything that had before been attempted in
the same line. I believe that Drain's earnest attention to his work,
in which he had little or no assistance, undermined his health,
and arrested the career of one who, had he lived, would have attained
the highest position in his profession. I shall never forget the rare
treat which his fine mechanism afforded me. Its prominent quality was
absolute truth and accuracy in every part.
Having now had enough of the Black Country and of Birmingham workshops,
I proceeded towards London. There were no more manufacturing districts
to be visited. Everything now was to be green lanes, majestic trees,
old mansions, venerable castles, and picturesque scenery. There is no
way of seeing a country properly except on foot. By railway you whiz
past and see nothing. Even by coach the best parts of the scenery are
unseen. "Shank's naig" is the best of all methods, provided you have
time. I had still some days to spare before the conclusion of my
holiday. I therefore desired to see some of the beautiful scenery and
objects of antiquarian interest before returning to work.
I made my way across country to Kenilworth. The weather was fine,
and the walk was perfect. The wayside was bordered by grassy sward.
Wide and irregular margins extended on each side of the road, and noble
trees and untrinnned hedges, in their glowing autumnal tint, extended
far and wide. Everything was in the most gloriously neglected and
therefore highly picturesque condition. Here and there old farmhouses
and labourers' cottages peeped up from amidst the trees and hedges--
worthy of the landscape painter's highest skill.
I reached Kenilworth about half an hour before sunset. I made my way
direct to the castle, glorious in its decay. The fine mellow glow of
the setting sun lit up the grand and extensive ruins. The massive
Norman keep stood up with melancholy dignity, and attracted my
attention more than any other part of the ruined building. To me there
is an impressiveness in the simple massive dignity of the Norman
castles and cathedrals, which no other buildings possess. There is an
expression of terrible earnestness about them. The last look I had of
the Norman keep was grand. The elevated part was richly tinted with
the last glow of the setting sun, while the outline of the buildings
beneath was shaded by a dark purply gray. It was indeed a sight never
to be forgotten. I waited until the sun had descended beneath the
horizon, still leaving its glimmer of pink and crimson and gray,
and then I betook me to the little inn in the village, where I obtained
comfortable quarters for the night. I visited the ruins again in the
morning. Although the glory of the previous evening had departed,
I was much interested in observing the various styles of architecture
adopted in different parts of the buildings--some old, some
comparatively new. I found the older more grand and massive, and the
newer, of the sixteenth century, wanting in dignity of design, and the
workmanship very inferior. The reign of Shoddy had already begun
before Cromwell laid the castle in ruins.
In the course of the day I proceeded to Warwick. I passed along the
same delightful grass-bordered roads, shaded by noble trees. I reached
the grand old town, with its antique buildings and its noble castle--
so famous in English history. Leaving the place with reluctance,
I left it late in the afternoon to trudge on to Oxford. But soon after
I started the rain began to fall. It was the first interruption to my
walking journey which I had encountered during my three weeks' absence
from London. As it appeared from the dark clouds overhead that a wet
night had set in, I took shelter in a wayside inn at a place called
Steeple Aston. My clothes were dripping wet; and after a glass of very
hot rum and water I went to bed, and had a sound sleep. Next morning
it was fair and bright. After a substantial homely breakfast I set out
again. Nature was refreshed by the steady rain of the previous night,
and the day was beautiful. I reached Deddington and stayed there for
the night, and early next morning I set out for Oxford.
I was greatly excited by the first sight I had of the crowd of towers
and spires of that learned and illustrious city. Nor were my
expectations at all disappointed by a nearer approach to the colleges
of Oxford. After a most interesting visit to the best of the
buildings, I took in a, fair idea of the admirable details of this
noble city, and left in the afternoon of next day. I visited, on my
way to Thame, the old church of Iffley. I was attracted to it by the
fine old Norman work it contains, which I found most quaint and
picturesque.
I slept at Thame for the night, and next day walked to Windsor.
I arrived there at sunset, and had a fine view of the exterior of the
castle and the surrounding buildings. I was, however, much
disappointed on examining the architectural details. In sight of the
noble trees about the castle, and the magnificent prospect from the
terrace, I saw much that tended to make up for the disgust I felt at
the way in which all that was so appropriate and characteristic in so
historic a place as Windsor Castle should have been tampered with and
rubbed out by the wretched conceit of the worst architects of our worst
architectural period.
I left Windsor next morning, and walked direct for London. My time was
up, but not my money. I had taken eight sovereigns on setting out from
London to Liverpool by coach, and I brought one sovereign back with me.
Rather than break into it I walked all the way from Windsor to London
without halting for refreshment my entire expenditure during my three
weeks' journey was thus seven pounds.
When I look back upon that tour, I feel that I was amply rewarded.
It was throughout delightful and instructive. The remembrance of it is
as clear in my mind now as if I had performed the journey last year
instead of fifty years ago. There are thousands of details that pass
before my mind's eye that would take a volume to enunerate. I brought
back a book full of sketches; for graphic memoranda are much better
fitted than written words to bring up a host of pleasant recollections
and associations. I came back refreshed for work, and possessed by an
anxious desire to press forward in the career of industry which I had
set before me to accomplish.