Having some delay in giving my little Imogen her first English dinner,
we saved our passage by half a minute, and were off from Liverpool at 4
precisely. The distance to London is, I believe, 220 miles, and we did
it in five hours—an acceleration of speed which is lately introduced
upon the English railways. There are slower trains on the same route,
and the price, by these, is less. There are also three or four different
kinds of cars to each train, and at different prices. I chanced to light
upon the first class, and paid £5 for two places—my nurse and child
counting as one. I understand, since, that many gentlemen and ladies of
the most respectable rank take the second-class cars—(as few Americans
would, I am sorry to say, though there would be two degrees still below
them.)
This travelling at forty odd miles the hour give one’s eyes hardly time
to know a tree from a cow, but here and there I got a distant view in
crossing a valley, and recognized the lovely rural beauty of England,
the first impression of which lasts one, like an enchanted memory,
through life. Notwithstanding the great speed, the cars ran so evenly on
their admirable rails, that there was no jar to prevent one’s sleeping
or being comfortable, and I awoke from a very pleasant dream to find
myself in London.
As I was dressing to dine out on the following day, I stopped tying my
cravat to send for a physician, and here, if you please, we will make a
jump over twelve days, and come to a bright morning when I was let out
for a walk in Regent-street.
* * * * *
It is extraordinary how little the English change! Regent-street, after
four or five years, is exactly what Regent-street _was_. The men have
the same tight cravats, coats too small, overbrushed whiskers, and look
of being excessively wash’d. The carriages and horses exactly the same.
The cheap shops have the same placard of “SELLING OFF” in their broad
windows. The blind beggars tell the same story, and are led by the same
dogs; but what is stranger than all this sameness, is that the _ladies_
look the same! The fashions have perhaps changed—in the milliners’
shops! But the _Englishing_ that is done to French bonnets after they
are bought, or the English way in which they are worn, overpowers the
novelty, and gives the fair occupants of the splendid carriages of
London the very same look they had ten years ago.
Still there are some slight differences observable in the street, and
among others, I observe that the economical private carriage called a
“Brougham” is very common. These are low cabs, holding two or four
persons, with a driver, and perhaps a footman in livery on the outside
seat, and one horse seems to do the work as well as two. This fashion
would be well, introduced into New York—that is to say, if our city is
ever to be well enough paved to make a drive any thing but a dire
necessity. The paving of London is really most admirable. Vast city as
it is, the streets are smooth as a floor all over it, and to ride is
indeed a luxury. The break-neck, hat-jamming and dislocating jolts of
Broadway must seem to English judgment an inexcusable stain on our
public spirit. And, _apropos_ of paving—the wooden pavement seems to be
entirely out of favor. Regent-street is laid in wooden blocks, and in
wet weather (and it rains here some part of every day,) it is so
slippery that an omnibus which has been stopped in going _up_ the street
is with difficulty started again. The horses almost always come to their
knees, though the ascent is very slight, and the falls of cart and
carriage-horses are occurring continually. Nothing seems to “do” like
the McAdam pavement, and wherever you find it in London, you find it in
as perfect order as the floor of a bowling-alley. I see that all heavy
vehicles are compelled to have very broad wheels, and they rather
improve the road than spoil it. A law to the same effect should be
passed in New York, if it ever has a pavement worth preserving.
Observing Lady Blessington’s faultless equipage standing at the door of
the Cosmorama, I went in and saw her Ladyship for a moment. She said she
was suffering from recent illness, but I thought her looking far better
than when I was last in England. Her two beautiful nieces were with her,
and Lord ——; and the celebrated Vidocq (for this was what they had
come to see,) was showing them the disguises he had worn in his
wonderful detections of criminals, the weapons he had taken from them,
and all the curiosities of his career—himself the greatest. I looked at
the Prince of Policemen with no little interest of course, after reading
his singular memoirs. He is a fat man, very like the outline of Louis
Phillippe’s figure, and his head, enormously developed in the perceptive
organs, goes up so small to the top, as to resemble the pear with which
the King of the French is commonly caricatured. Vidocq’s bow to me when
I came in was the model of elegant and respectful suavity, but I could
not repress a feeling of repugnance to him, nevertheless.
I made a couple of calls before I went home. The chief topic of
conversation at both houses was the charms and eccentricities of an
American belle who had lately married into a noble family. She seems to
have enchanted the exclusives by treating them with the most
un-deferential freedom. A few evenings since, she chanced to be
surrounded by a half-dozen high bred admirers, and conversation going
rather heavily, she proposed a cock-fight. Dividing the party into two
sides, she tied the legs of the young men together, and set them to a
game of fisticuffs—ending in a very fair representation of an action
between belligerent roosters! One of her expressions was narrated with
great glee. She chanced to have occasion to sneeze when sitting at
dinner between two venerable noblemen. “La!” she exclaimed, “I hope I
didn’t splash either of you!” I have mentioned only the drolleries of
what I heard. Several instances of her readiness and wit were given, and
as those who mentioned them were of the class she is shining in, their
admiring tone gave a fair reflection of how she is looked upon—as the
most celebrated belle and notability of high life for the present
season.