indiscriminate slaughter of the sea-lions are, it is to be feared, as
well founded as have been our own repeated remonstrances against the
wholesale slaughter of seals. The United States government, however, it
is satisfactory to learn, still regulate their sea-lion fisheries at
the Pribylov Islands in a methodical manner. Thus the young males alone
are killed, and the period during which they are taken extends from
June to October; whilst the total number of sea-lions killed annually
is limited. In the South Sea Islands, these animals were killed
in such numbers that they are now exceedingly scarce; British and
Americans alike, slaying the sea-lions without in the slightest degree
discriminating between the sexes, or between young and old seals. It
is to be hoped, for the sake of science as well as of commerce, that
time has taught us wisdom in this respect. We have seen how necessary
legislation has become to insure the prosperity of our home-fisheries;
and now that the Royal Commissioners have finished their labours in
behalf of crabs and lobsters, salmon and herring, it would be well
for the public interests if Mr Frank Buckland and his coadjutors were
empowered to look after the sea-lion and the seal.
ANCIENT STREETS AND HOMESTEADS OF ENGLAND.
With kindly regard for the names, the places, and the landmarks of our
forefathers, which may be called the sentimental side of our national
stability, are usually, but unfortunately not invariably combined the
good sense which improves but does not destroy, and the good taste
which recognises the intrinsic beauty of antiquity, its harmony with
our history, and the dignity which it lends to the present. Foreigners
are always deeply impressed by the 'ancientness' of England, by the
maintenance of the old names, and the blending together in our cities
of the convenience and luxury of modern life, with the memorials of a
past as grand as any country has to boast of, and marked by far less
vicissitude.
Among the evidences of the stability of England to which the attention
of her own students of her history and that of foreign visitors may
most worthily be directed, is the minor monumental history which Mr
Alfred Rimmer illustrates, and whose value and interest the Dean of
Chester points out in an interesting volume entitled _Ancient Streets
and Homesteads of England_ (London: Macmillan & Co.); the history of
the old buildings which still remain in the old streets of our old
cities, in our villages and in our hamlets.
It is pleasant to ramble with Mr Rimmer from county to county of
the old land, gathering as we go a great company from the past; and
assuredly all will agree that no better starting-point can be found
than Chester, the pride of archæologists, the boast of historians,
the city whose renown has been touched into equal brilliance and
tenderness by the genius of Sir Walter Scott. An American traveller
has well described the charm of the city. 'It is full,' he says, 'of
that delightful element of the crooked, the accidental, the unforeseen,
which, to eyes accustomed to eternal right angles and straight lines,
is the striking feature of European street scenery. The Chester streets
give us a perfect feast of crookedness--of those random corners,
projections, and recesses, those innumerable architectural surprises
and caprices and fantasies which offer such a delicious holiday to a
vision nourished upon brown stone fronts.' Shrewsbury perhaps gives at
first sight a more vivid picture of a fine old English town, but it
has not so many treasures hidden away under modern exteriors. It is
likely, Mr Rimmer tells us, that even the oldest inhabitant of Chester
is ignorant of the ancient relics which the city contains. Though the
origin of the famous 'Rows' is disputed--some antiquaries holding
them to belong to the Roman era of the city, and to have been simply
an extension of the vestibule of Roman architecture; while others
consider that they were built as a refuge for the citizens during any
sudden attack of the Welsh--there is but one estimate of their quaint
old-world beauty; and perhaps there is no relic of the past in all
England which has more stirring memories to arouse than Chester Castle,
with its Julius Cæsar's tower still standing firm against the influence
of time, and its tradition of Hugh Lupus Hall.
Next to the completeness of the ancient walls of Chester, its carved
woodwork strikes the visitor as an instance of conservation. The carved
front of the house which belonged to Randal Holme, who left valuable
records of the city, is much more ancient than the date it bears
(1664); and though the house called Bishop Lloyd's is now divided into
tenements, the splendid remains of its ceilings and fireplaces are
preserved. A little beyond it stand the beautiful cottages, with their
carving intact, into which Stanley House has been divided. Here the
Earl of Derby, who was executed at Bolton in 1657, passed his last day.
Some of the famous carved oak furniture of this historic mansion found
its way a few years ago into the possession of Mr Sly, the landlord
of the celebrated _King's Arms Inn_ at Lancaster, and was sold in
the spring of the present year at the dispersion of his collection.
One magnificent black oak bedstead splendidly carved is now in the
possession of the Duke of Norfolk. Looking at the beautiful carved
fronts of the cottages, and thinking of the terrible time in which the
chief of the great House of Stanley left his ancestral home for ever,
we are reminded of the quaint story which the earl's gentleman, Mr
Bagaley, related concerning that departure. 'One Lieutenant Smith, a
rude fellow,' he says, 'came in with his hat on, and told my lord he
came from Colonel Duckenfield the governor, to tell his lordship he
must be ready for his journey to Bolton. My lord replied: "When would
have me to go?" "To-morrow, about six in the morning," said Smith.
"Well," said my lord, "commend me to the governor, and tell him I shall
be ready by that time." Then said Smith: "Doth your lordship know any
friend or servant that would do the thing your lordship knows of? It
would do well if you had a friend." My lord replied: "What do you
mean--to cut off my head?" Smith said: "Yes, my lord; if you could have
a friend." My lord said: "Nay, sir; if those men that would have my
head will not find one to cut it off, let it stand where it is."'
The Blue Posts, 'God's Providence' House, with its inscription of
thanksgiving that its inmates had been spared from the plague; the
beautiful gabled house in Whitefriars, with its fine mouldings and
traceries, are but a few of the memorials of the past over which one
lingers in Chester, before passing on to the eastern part of the
county, where one finds a special treat in the old town of Congleton,
which presents features of successive periods of antiquity in its still
and picturesque streets, and is surrounded on all sides by venerable
family seats. Mr Rimmer's drawing of the old _Lion Inn_ gives a
charming idea of a black-and-white gabled hostelry, with a vast porch
resting on stone pillars, and supporting a room above it. The interior
preserves all its old characteristics, and has a quiet ponderousness
about it, as of an inn to which wayfarers came in coaches with armed
outriders on horseback, with led-horses charged with baggage, or in
heavy wagons. The idea of railways or smart dog-carts, or the pertness
of all modern vehicles in fact, in connection with the _Lion Inn_, has
a kind of impertinence about it.
Over the Cheshire border in Shropshire there is a great deal of
interest for the student of the street architecture of the past; and in
that county picturesque old inns abound. We find one at Ellesmere, with
the grass growing in the vast courtyard, built round by the now empty
stables, which were so full of life and bustle in the old coaching
days. Mr Rimmer's very brief mention of Ellesmere implies that it is
a much less important place than in reality it is; and all he says
about Shropshire conveys an impression that he has not studied the
antiquarian aspect of his subject at all so deeply as its artistic.
Two miles from Oswestry lies Whittington village, a perfect example of
the solid and beautiful in village architecture, with the gateway of
Peveril's Castle opening into it, and the birthplace of Sir Richard
Whittington left to the choice of the visitor. Oswestry itself is an
exceedingly interesting town; portions of the old wall still remain,
with several stone and half-timbered houses of great antiquity; but it
is seldom thoroughly explored, because the tourist is generally anxious
to reach the county town of Shropshire, that famous city of Shrewsbury,
which we know better perhaps through Shakspeare than through the
historical chronicles of its life. The author might, however, have
accorded more lengthened notice to Oswestry, which, if tradition may be
relied upon, dates from the fourth century of the Christian era, and
which undoubtedly derives its name from the overthrow and martyrdom of
Oswald, the Christian king of Northumberland, who was vanquished there
by Penda, the pagan king of Mercia.
Oswestry is stated to have been the site of a castle built in 1149 by
Magod, one of the princes of Powys. It then passed, by marriage, into
the hands of a Norman lord of Cher; and it was here that in 1164 Henry
II. assembled the army with which he marched to Chirk, in his vain
attempt to subjugate the principality. In 1277 Edward I. surrounded the
town by a wall which was a mile in circumference, had four gates, and
was further defended by a moat. In the thirteenth century both castle
and town were destroyed by fire. Many scenes of our martial history
pass before the mind's eye of the visitor to Oswestry. In 1403, Owen
Glyndyr (or Glendower) marched from thence towards Shrewsbury at the
head of twelve thousand men, intending there to unite his forces to
those of the Earl of Northumberland and his son. Tradition, however,
alleges that by the time he reached Shelton, two miles from Shrewsbury,
he found the royal forces were engaged in battle with their enemy. The
story of that eventful day is one out of which to make a mental picture
as one contemplates the approach to Shrewsbury. Hotspur and his father
had encamped on the previous night at a place called Berwick, nearly
opposite Shelton, and they calculated on being joined there by Glendyr.
They sorely needed his aid; the rebel army numbered only fourteen
thousand men, while that of the king numbered twenty-six thousand. In
vain they waited; in vain a few unsuccessful attempts were made at a
compromise, and then at a place still known as Battlefield, and in a
field yet called 'the King's Croft,' the battle was joined. Before,
however, the first blow was struck, Harry Hotspur called for his sword,
and was informed by his attendant that he had left it at Berwick. The
iron warrior, who was about cheerfully to encounter a force greatly
outnumbering his own, turned pale. 'I perceive,' he said, 'that my
plough is drawing its last furrow, for a wizard told me that I should
perish at Berwick, which I vainly interpreted of that town in the
north.'
The Welsh chieftain climbed into the tree and beheld the conflict; at
what period of the engagement is not told; but as he concluded the
king would be victorious, he quietly came down again, and leaving
Percy to defeat and death, marched back to his mountains. The old oak
yet remains; but for the forty years during which we have known it,
it has been in a failing condition. One by one its great boughs have
yielded to the storm, or broken beneath their own weight; and it is now
propped up with crutches and bound together with iron hoops. Probably
in another half-century the place which has known it for at least six
centuries will know it no more.
One of Mr Rimmer's illustrations shews us a street in Shrewsbury
which may justly claim to be one of the most perfect examples of
English streets yet remaining, if not the most perfect. The beautiful
old gabled houses with their projecting richly carved fronts are in
excellent preservation, and for a considerable distance a person
walking down the middle of the street can touch them on each side;
such was the economy of room in walled cities, which renders their
physiognomy just the opposite to that of villages, in which the
wide spaces constitute an especial beauty. Behind the city rise the
Haughmond hills, clear and sharp, and wooded to their summits. Mr
Rimmer tells us, that when the sun rises red over these hills, and
especially if this red rising be accompanied by noise of wind, it is a
certain sign of a stormy day; thus proving the truth of Shakspeare's
description of how 'bloodily the sun began to peer above yon bosky
hill,' upon the fatal day of the battle of Shrewsbury. Says Prince
Henry to his father:
The southern wind
Doth play the trumpet to his purposes;
And by the hollow whistling in the leaves
Foretells a tempest and a blustering day.
We wish we could find in the facts a sanction for the author's
statement, that in no town in England are the interesting remains,
dear to the antiquary and the student, more scrupulously taken care of
than in Shrewsbury; but we have before us the eloquent and pleading
testimony to the contrary of Mr Ansell Day, the enthusiastic and
indefatigable champion of the rights and the dignity of the old city;
and on comparing his description of Shrewsbury a hundred years ago
with Shrewsbury as it now is, we learn how much has been lost within
a century. A hundred years ago, Shrewsbury boasted five churches
of renowned beauty. The Abbey and the collegiate church of St Mary
still remain, deeply interesting to the antiquary and to the visitor.
But what has been the fate of the three others--of St Chad's, of
St Alkmond's (so spacious, so beautiful, famous for its exquisite
tower, and built by a sister of King Alfred), and of St Julian's? St
Chad's requiring reparation, a country builder was employed, whose
well-intentioned performance caused the tower to fall in and destroy a
portion of the church. Instead of the damage being repaired, the old
church was pulled down, and an expensive, hideous, and inconvenient
structure was erected in its place. The other two churches were
destroyed, without even the excuse of preliminary damage; indeed so
strong and in such perfect repair were they, that their demolition
was an exceedingly costly process; and the buildings which replace
them are curiosities of ugliness. A hundred years ago, the ancient
town was surrounded by walls with square towers at intervals, alike
interesting and characteristic; only a few hundred yards of the wall
now remain, and one tower alone stands, the solitary memento of the
past. The ancient Abbey buildings too have been swept away; the Guesten
House, formerly the scene of splendid and historical hospitality; the
Refectory, where a parliament once assembled to meet its king; and
of all the grandeur of the past, only the ancient pulpit remains, a
beautiful object indeed, but an unmeaning one in its isolation.
Wenlock, Bridgenorth, Ross, and Monmouth with its ancient massive
gate, bridge, and market-place, are full of beautiful remains; and
Worcester brings many a remembrance of the historic past before our
minds while we gaze on Mr Rimmer's drawings of the Corn-market, Friar
Street, and the Close of the beautiful cathedral, where Henry II. and
his queen were crowned, and King John is buried. In old Worcester,
the days of the Great Rebellion seem quite modern, and Charles II.
and his unlucky brother, men of only the recent past. A beautiful
and impressive drawing is that of the _New Inn_, Gloucester, that
hostelry of a strange history, for it was designed to accommodate the
pilgrims who used to go in crowds to the shrine raised in the Abbey
Church of Gloucester over the remains of the murdered King Edward II.
The vast old hostelry is enormously strong and massive, and covers an
immense area. It is fully half of timber, principally chestnut-wood.
Tewkesbury, Exeter, and Glastonbury are full of beautiful remains,
finely rendered in this book. The Abbot's Kitchen at Glastonbury is one
of the relics of the past best known in all England; here St Patrick
passed the last years of his life, and here King Arthur is said to have
been buried.
At Winchester are found grand examples of the domestic architecture
of the fifteenth century, in addition to the superb ecclesiastical
edifices of the city; Cardinal Beaufort's Tower, and St Cross,
whose noble gateway, approached from the Southampton Road, is seen
through great elms and walnut-trees, where the long lines of quaint
high chimneys form with the church and the foliage an exquisitely
picturesque combination. We pass on in the artist's company to
Guildford, where the gateway of Esher Palace still remains to remind
us of Wolsey's residence there after his downfall; to Salisbury, which
differs from other old cities in having nothing Roman, Saxon, or Norman
about it, but being purely English and unique; to Canterbury, with
its wonderful wealth of antiquities, ecclesiastical, domestic, and
military, all preserved with jealous care; to Rochester, with its grand
and gloomy castle, and the noble cathedral, around which there hangs an
atmosphere of romance; to Rye, with its ancient grass-grown streets,
gabled houses, and church clock, said to be the oldest in England; to
St Albans, which has just been raised by the Queen to the dignity of
a city; and from whose abbey the first books printed in England were
issued; to Banbury, with its Old Parliament House, where Cromwell's
fateful parliament sat, and the _Roebuck Inn_, which contains a room
accounted the most beautiful Elizabethan apartment of the early style
in existence. This was Oliver's council-chamber, after the taking of
Banbury Castle.
After visiting Ely, Ipswich, Norwich, Lady Jane Grey's house at
Leicester, and the crumbling ruins which only remain of the Abbey, we
are bidden to the Fen counties, whose picturesqueness few are aware of,
though their architectural beauties, especially those of Lincolnshire,
are well known; and we are shewn among many other curious things the
market-place at Oakham, all roofed and shingled with solid old oak.
There is a singular custom at Oakham: every peer of the realm on
first passing through the town has either to pay a fine or to present
the town with a shoe from his horse; the shoe is then nailed up on
the castle gate, or in some conspicuous part of the building. Queen
Elizabeth has left a memento of this nature at Oakham, as also have
George IV. and Queen Victoria. These shoes are often gilt, and stamped
with the name and arms of the donor.
The county of Nottingham is also amply illustrated; and we find a
drawing of the famous _Saracen's Head Inn_ at Southwell, which dates
from the time of Henry IV., and where Charles I. gave himself up to the
Scotch commissioners. The beautiful Minster, and the splendid ruins of
the palace, once the residence of the archbishops of York, and many an
old house and quiet glimpse of the home-life of the long past, are to
be seen at Southwell, the place which monarchs and nobles vied with
each other to endow and adorn. Warwickshire is but little noticed in
this book beyond the inevitable Warwick Castle and Kenilworth; and
yet how rich the land of the elm is in village, street, and homestead
antiquity.
We would have welcomed further details of Coventry, that most
interesting ancient city, the scene of the first days of the triumph
of Henry VII., and of one term of the dreary imprisonment of Mary,
Queen of Scots; the city of the wonderful church of St Michael, which
may truly be called a dream--a poem in stone. York, Beverley, Durham,
Lancaster, and Carlisle, all these the artist-author sets before us
with their treasures of architecture and illustration of the social
life of the past. Perhaps we linger longest over the noble views of
Durham Castle, and the majestic cathedral with its three grand towers,
which occupies one of the finest sites in England, and with the wooded
bluff beneath it, is reflected in the broad bosom of the Wear. The
author leads us so far north as Carlisle, but has not much to point
to there of great antiquity. The Border city had to fight too hard
for ages for her mere existence, to have means or leisure for the
beautifying or refining arts. Her name is otherwise writ in history.
We are grateful to Mr Rimmer for this work, which will, we hope, give
the impulse to much more literature of a similar order. There is a
great need of closely studied and well-written histories of the old
cities and towns of the United Kingdom, which, if not conceived merely
in the dry antiquarian, nor yet in the simply picturesque artistic
spirit, would induce readers to recognise, and lead them to explore the
archæological treasures of their own countries, which may be reached
with ease, and might, with the assistance of books of this kind, be
studied with equal pleasure and profit.
JAPANESE FANS.
During the past few years, Japanese fans have become so popular in this
country, that a few brief remarks respecting them and the manner in
which they are manufactured--culled from the published Report by Her
Majesty's Consul on the trade of Hiogo and Osaka--may perhaps prove
acceptable to our readers.
Osaka, we learn, is the principal city for the manufacture of the
_ogi_ or folding fans, which are those almost exclusively exported,
all descriptions of the bamboo kind being made there; the figures,
writing, &c. required for their adornment are executed at Kioto. The
prices vary from a few pence up to six pounds sterling per hundred, and
occasionally even higher prices are given, though the bulk consists
of the cheaper sorts. The superior kinds of fans, it may be mentioned
parenthetically, which are termed _uchiwa_ by the Japanese, are
manufactured at Kioto, and are extensively used by the better classes
of the natives.
The following are the principal features in the account which Mr Consul
Annesley gives of the details connected with _ogi_ or folding fans.
As in many other branches of industry, the principle of division of
labour is carried out in the fan-making trade. The bamboo ribs are
made in Osaka and Kioto by private individuals in their own houses,
and combinations of the various notches cut in the lower part are left
to one of the finishing workmen, who forms the various patterns of the
handle according to plans prepared by the designer. In like manner the
designer gives out to the engravers the patterns which his experience
teaches him will be most likely to be saleable during the ensuing
season; and when the different blocks have been cut, it still rests
with him to say what colours are to be used for the two sides of each
fan. In fact, this official holds, if not the best paid, at anyrate
the most important position on the staff in ordinary. When the printed
sheets which are to form the two sides of the fans have been handed
over to the workman, together with the sets of bamboo slips which are
to form the ribs, his first business is to fold the two sheets of
which the fan is to be composed, so that they will retain the crease,
and this is done by putting them between two pieces of paper, well
saturated with oil, and properly creased. The four are then folded
together and placed under a heavy weight.
When sufficient time has elapsed, the sheets are taken out, and the
moulds used again, the released sheets being packed up for at least
twenty-four hours in their folds. The next process is to take the
ribs, which are temporarily arranged in order on a wire, and 'set'
them into their places on one of the sheets, after it has been spread
out on a block and pasted. A dash of paste then gives the woodwork
adhesive powers, and that part of the process is finished by affixing
the remaining sheet of paper. The fan has to be folded up and opened
three or four times before the folds take the proper shape; and by the
time the fan is put by to dry, it has received far more handling than
any foreign paper could stand; indeed foreign paper has been tried, and
had to be given up, as unsuitable for the work; but with great care the
Osaka fan-makers had been able to make some fans with printed pictures
which had been sent over from America, though they were invariably
obliged to use one face of Japanese paper.