I always lov’d thee, and thy yellow garb,
October dear!--and I have hailed thy reign,
On many a lovely, many a distant plain,
But here, thou claim’st my warmest best regard.
Not e’en the noble banks of silver Seine
Can rival Derwent’s--where proud Chatsworth’s tow’rs
Reflect Sol’s setting rays--as now yon chain
Of gold-tipp’d mountains crown her lawns and bowers.
Here, countless beauties catch the ravish’d view,
Majestic scenes, all silent as the tomb;
Save where the murmuring of Derwent’s wave,
To tenderest feelings the rapt soul subdue,
While shadowy forms seem gliding through the gloom
To visit those again they lov’d this side the grave.
_Rickman._
~October 4.~
_St. Francis_ of Assisium, A. D. 1226. _Sts. Marcus_, _Marcian_, &c.
_St. Petronius_, Bp. A. D. 430. _St. Ammon_, Hermit, A. D. 308. _St.
Aurea_, Abbess, A. D. 666. _St. Edwin_, King, A. D. 633. _The Martyrs
of Triers._
SALE OF
HYDE-PARK-CORNER TOLL-GATE.
Before the close of the sessions of parliament in 1825 an act passed for
the removal of the toll-gate at Hyde-park-corner, with a view to the
free passage of horsemen and carriages between London and Pimlico. So
great an accommodation to the inhabitants of that suburb, manifests a
disposition to relieve other growing neighbourhoods of the metropolis
from these vexatious imposts. On the present occasion a gentleman,
evidently an artist, presented the Editor with a drawing of
Hyde-park-corner gate on the day when it was sold; it is engraved
opposite. This liberal communication was accompanied by the subjoined
letter:--
_To the Editor of the Every-Day Book._
Sir,
I have taken the liberty of enclosing you a representation of a scene
which took place at Hyde-park-corner last Tuesday, October 4th, being no
less than the public sale of the toll-house, and all the materials
enumerated in the accompanying catalogue. If you were not present, the
drawing I have sent may interest you as a view of the old toll-house and
the last scene of its eventful history. You are at liberty to make what
use of it you please. The sale commenced at one o’clock, the auctioneer
stood under the arch before the door of the house on the north side of
Piccadilly. Several carriage folks and equestrians, unconscious of the
removal of the toll, stopped to pay, whilst the drivers of others passed
through knowingly, with a look of satisfaction at their liberation from
the accustomed restriction at that place. The poor dismantled house
_without a turnpike man_, seemed “almost afraid to know
itself”--“Othello’s occupation was gone.” By this time, if the
conditions of the auction have been attended to, not a vestige is left
on the spot. I have thought this event would interest a mind like yours,
which permits not any change in the history of improvement, or of places
full of old associations, to take place without record.