 Introduction of Young Americans Abroad, or Vacation in Europe, travels in England, France, Holland, Belgium, Prussia, and Switzerland, edited by J. O. Choules, read for LibreVox.org into the public domain. Introduction One evening last winter a few private pupils were sitting in the study of their instructor, when he stated his intention to pass the spring vacation in Europe, and his wish to have two or three of his young friends as his traveling companions. An earnest and joyous desire was expressed by each lad to enjoy the gratification, and in the course of a short period the arrangements were made, which afforded him the pleasure to assure three boys that they should accompany him. The ages of the young travelers were twelve, fourteen, and sixteen. Their attention was immediately directed to a course of reading adapted to prepare them for the beneficial use of the proposed tour, and during its progress each boy kept a journal, which was useful as a reference in the correspondence kept up with friends and families at home. A companion in study, left behind, and prevented by duty from joining the party, wished to have constant advices of the movements of his friends, and the letters of the young travelers to a lad of sixteen are, at the advice of many friends, now submitted to the perusal of those at that age. No similar work is known to the authors of these letters, and at the forthcoming gift season it is hoped that the young of our country may be amused and gratified by these reminiscences of other lands. J. O. Choules, Newport, Rhode Island, November 25th, 1851. End of Introduction, read by Savela Denton. I have just arrived at this place, and have found my companions on hand, already for the commencement of the long anticipated voyage. We regret the circumstances which render it your duty to remain, and we all feel very sorry for the disappointment of your wishes and our hopes. You will, however, feel happy in the thought that you are clearly in the path of duty, and you have already learned that that path is a safe one, and that it always leads to happiness. You have begged us all to write to you as frequently as we can, and we have concluded to send you our joint contributions, drawing largely upon our journals as we move from place to place. And as we have for so many years had pleasant intercourse in the family circle, we wish to maintain it by correspondence abroad. Our letters will, of course, be very different in their character and interest, because you will bear in mind that our ages are different, and we shall write you from a variety of points, some having a deeper interest than others. I trust that this series of letters will give you a general view of our movements, and contribute to your gratification if not to your instruction. The weather is delightful, and we are anticipating a fine day for leaving Port. It is to all of us a source of pain that we are deprived of your sunny smile, and while we are wandering in faraway other lands, we shall often, in fancy, listen to your merry laugh, and I assure you, my dear fellow, that wherever we rove it will be amongst our pleasantest thoughts of home when we anticipate the renewal of personal intercourse with one who is secured so warm a place in our affections. Yours truly, J.O.C. End of Letter 1, read by Cibella Denton. Dear Charlie, it is but twelve days since we parted, and yet we are actually in the Old World, and the things which we have so often talked over on the rock-bound shore are really before me. Yes, we are on the soil of Old England, and are soon to see its glories and greatness, and I fear its miseries, for a bird's eye view has already satisfied me that there is enough of poverty. We know we left New York in a soaking rain, and the wind blowing fresh from the northeast. We all felt disappointed as we had hoped to pass down the bay, so celebrated for its beauty, with the bright sunshine to cheer our way, but we had to take comfort from the old proverb that a bad beginning makes a good ending. James, George, and I had made up our minds to a regular time of sea sickness, and so we hastened to put our state room into order and have all our conveniences fixed for the voyage. As soon as we had made matters comfortable, we returned to the deck, and found a most formidable crowd. Every passenger seemed to have, on the occasion, a troop of friends, and all parts of the immense steamer were thronged. The warning voice of all on shore soon caused a secession, and at twelve o'clock we had a great agent at work by which we hoped to make headway against wind and wave. The cheering of the crowd upon the wharf was hardy as we dropped into the river, and its return from our passengers was not lacking in spirit. The Arctic, you know, is one of the Collins lines of steamers, and I was not a little surprised at her vast size and splendid accommodations, because I had only seen the Cunard boats in Boston, which are very inferior in size and comfort, to this palace and tower of the ocean. We all anticipated a hard time of it from the severe storm which raged all the morning, and I, in common with all the passengers, was delighted to find it anything but rough water outside the hook. We kept steaming away until we lost sight of land with the loss of daylight, and yet the sea was in less commotion than it frequently exhibits in Newport Harbour. The next morning at breakfast we had quite a fair representation at table, and I think that more than two-thirds presented themselves for duty. We boys were all on hand and passed for able-bodied men. The routine of life on board was as follows. We breakfasted at eight, lunched at twelve, dined at four, took tea at half-past six, and from nine to eleven gentlemen had any article for supper they saw fit to order. This is quite enough of time for taking care of the Outer Man, and any one careful of his health will be sure to intermittent one or two of these seasons. All the meals were excellent, and the supplies liberal. The tables present a similar appearance to those of a first-class hotel. In regard to our passengers, I think I can say, with confidence, that a more agreeable set of persons could not well have been gathered together. It really was a nicely assorted cargo. We numbered one hundred and thirty, and all the various parts of our country were all represented. Philadelphia sent the largest delegation. From that city we had more than twenty. I liked the looks of the passengers at the first glance, and every day's intercourse heightened my estimate of their worth and pleasantness. That's the company we had a Professor Haddock of Dartmouth College going out to Portugal as chargé d'affaires. He was accompanied by his lady and son. Then, too, we had the world-renowned Peter Parley with his accomplished family circle. Mr. Goodrich, after a long labor for the youth of his country, for whose reading and instruction he has done so much, has been honored by the Government of the United States with an appointment as consul at Paris. Mr. Goodrich resided there for two or three years, and was in Paris during the revolution of 1848. He seems fond of the company of young people, and we spent a great deal of time on board with him, listening to his stories, some made up for the occasion, and narrations of the events in February at Paris, and some capital anecdotes about the last war with England, during which he served his country in the Army. The Honorable George Wright of California, and her first representative in Congress, was also one of our party, and his glowing descriptions of the Arphurus Regions kept groups of audience for many of an hour. The Reverend Arthur Cleveland Cox of Hartford, favorably known as the author of Some Pleasant Rhymes and Sonnets, Mr. Cunningham, a Southern editor, and several retired sea captains, all contributed to enhance the agreeableness of the voyage. I am sorry to tell you that, three days out, we had a sad occurrence in our little world. Just as we were sitting down to lunch at Eight Bells, the machinery stopped for a moment, and we were informed that William Irwin, one of the assistant engineers, was crushed to death. He accidentally slipped from his position, and was killed instantaneously. In less than half an hour he was sewed up in canvas, and all hands called to attend his funeral services. The poor fellow was laid upon a plank covered with the American flag, and placed at the wheel-house. The service was performed by Mr. Cox in full canonicals, and I can assure you that the white-robed priest, as he issued from the cabin and ascended the wheel-house, really looked impressively. At the close he was committed to the deep. What food forethought was here? A man in health, and at life's daily task, alive, dead, and buried, all those conditions of his state crowded into thirty minutes. The poor man had a mother who was dependent upon him. Dr. Choules drew up a subscription paper for her benefit, and nearly five hundred dollars were at once raised for her relief. This unhappy event, of course, gave a sad damper to the joyous feelings which existed on board, and which were excited by our fine weather and rapid headway. On Sunday we had two sermons in the cabin to large congregations, all the passengers attending, with the officers and many of the crew. The morning service was by Dr. Choules and the evening one by Mr. Cox. In the afternoon, April 6, we had the gratification to see a magnificent iceberg. We were in latitude forty-three degrees four minutes, longitude fifty-three degrees eleven minutes at twelve o'clock, and at three the ice appeared at about ten miles distance. The estimated height was about three hundred feet. One of the passengers took a sketch. I also made one and have laid it aside for your inspection. The burg had much the appearance of the gable end of a large house, and at some little distance there was another, of tower-like aspect, and much resembling a lighthouse. The effect of the sun upon it, as we saw it in various positions, was exceedingly fine. On Monday the seventh we saw a much larger one, with several small ones as neighbors. This was probably one mile in length, and about two hundred feet high. We saw several whales frolicking at the distance of a mile, and distinctly saw them spout at short intervals. After having had all reason to hope for a ten-day passage, we were annoyed for four or five days with headwinds, materially retarding our headway. The evenings of the voyage were generally spent on deck, where we had charming concerts. seldom have I heard better singing than we were favored with by eight or ten ladies and gentlemen. One universal favorite was the beautiful piece, Far Far at Sea. On Sunday the thirteenth, just after morning service, conducted by Mr. Cox, we made Misenhead, and obtained a magnificent view of the north coast of Ireland, which was far more beautiful than we had expected. The coast is very bold, and the cliffs precipitous, in many places strongly reminding us of the highlands of the Hudson. A more exquisite treat than that which we had enjoyed all the afternoon looking on the Irish coast, I can hardly imagine. At night we had a closing service, and Dr. Choules preached. Everyone seemed to feel that we had cause for thankfulness that we had been brought in safety across the ocean, and under so many circumstances of enjoyment. We have made acquaintances that are truly valuable, and some of them I hope to cultivate in future life. One of the great advantages of travel, Charles, seems to be that it enables us to compare men of other places than those we live in with our former acquaintances. It brings us into intercourse with those who have had a different training and education than our own, and I think a man or boy must be pretty thoroughly conceited, who does not often find out his own inferiority to many with whom he chances to meet. On board our ship are several young men of fine attainments, who, engaged in mechanical business, are going out to obtain improvement and instruction by a careful study of the Great Exhibition. A number of gentlemen with us are young merchants, who represent houses in our great cities, and go to England and France twice and three times every year. Some of these are thoroughly accomplished men, and wherever they go will reflect credit upon their country. In no country, perhaps, do young men assume important trust in commercial life at so early a period as in America. I have heard one or two Englishmen on board express their surprise at finding large business operations entrusted to young men of twenty and twenty-one, and yet there are some such with us who are making their second and third trips to Manchester, Leeds, Paisley, and Paris for the selection of goods. I ought to tell you that, on the last day of the voyage, we had a great meeting in the cabin, Mr. Goodrich in the chair, for the purpose of expressing the satisfaction of the passengers with the Arctic, her captain, officers, and engineer. All good speeches were made, and some resolutions passed. This has become so ordinary an affair at the termination of a passage as to have lost much of its original value, but as this ship had an unusual number of passengers, many of them well known to their fellow countrymen, and as great opposition had been displayed on both sides of the ocean to this line of steamers, it was thought suitable to express our views in relation to this particular ship and the great undertaking with which she is identified. Every man on board was satisfied that, in safety, these ships are equal to the Cunard line, while in comfort, accommodation, size, and splendor they far surpass their rivals. It really seems strange to us that Americans should think of making the ocean trip in an English steamship when their own country has a noble experiment in trial, the success of which alone depends upon the patriotism and spirit of her citizens. The English on board are forced to confess that our ship and the line are all that can be asked, and I think that pretty strong prejudices have been conquered by this voyage. Everyone left the ship with sentiments of respect to Captain Luce, who, I assure you, we found to be a very kind friend, and we shall all of us be glad to meet him again on ship or shore. On Monday, the fourteenth, at three o'clock, we took our pilot, and at eight o'clock we anchored off Liverpool, and a dark-looking steam-tug came off to us for the males, foreign ministers, and bearers of dispatches. As we came under the wing of one of the last-named class of favored individuals, we took our luggage and proceeded straight to the Adelphi Hotel. I ought to say that James was the first to quit the ship and plant his foot on Old England. It was quite strange to see it so light at half-past eight o'clock, although it was a rainy evening. I shall not soon forget the cheerful appearance of the Adelphi, which, in all its provisions for comfort, both in the coffee-room and our chambers, struck me more favorably than any hotel I have ever seen. Although our stateroom on board the Arctic was one of the extra-size and everything that was nice, yet I long for the conveniences of a bed-chamber and a warm bath. I am quite disposed to join with the poor Irish woman who had made a steerage passage from New York to Liverpool on a packet-ship, and when landed at St. George's Pier, and seated on her trunk, a lady who had also landed, when getting into her carriage, said, Well, my good woman, I suppose you are very glad to get out of the ship? Her reply was, And indeed, my lady, every bone in my body cries out feathers. Yours truly, Weld. Letter III. Well, we have fairly commenced our travel, and yet I can scarcely realize the fact that I am here in Old England, and that, for some months at least, I shall be away from home and the occupations of the schoolroom. The next day after landing we went to the custom house to see our fellow passengers pass their effects, and really felt glad to think of our good fortune in landing everything at night and direct from the ship. It was an exciting scene, and I was not a little amused to observe the anxiety of the gentlemen to save their cigars from the duty imposed, which amounts to nine shillings sterling per pound. All sorts of contrivances were in vogue, and the experiences of men were various, the man with one hundred perhaps being brought up, while his neighbor with five hundred passed off successfully, and as he cleared the building seemed disposed to place his finger on the prominent feature of his face. I quite like the appearance of Liverpool. After walking through the principal streets and making a general survey of the shops, no one speaks of store, I think I can testify to the extraordinary cleanness of the city, and the massiveness and grandeur of the public buildings. Our attention was first directed to the cemetery, which had been described, you remember, to us one evening in the study. It is on the confines of the city, and is made but of an old quarry. I liked it better than any cemetery I ever saw. It is unlike all I had seen, and though comparatively small is very picturesque, I may almost say romantic. The walls are lofty, and are devoted to spacious tombs, and the groundwork abounds in garden shrubbery and labyrinth. Some of the monuments are striking. The access to this resting place is by a steep cut through the rock, and you pass under an archway of the most imposing character. At the entrance of the cemetery is a neat chapel, and the officiating minister has a dwelling-house near the gate. I wish you could see a building now in progress, and which has taken twelve or fourteen years to erect, and from its appearance will not, I suppose, be finished in four or five more. It is called St. George's Hall. The intent is to furnish suitable accommodations for various law courts, and also to contain the finest ballroom in Europe. It is in a commanding position. I know little of architecture, but this building strikes me as one of exquisite beauty. We obtained an order from the mayor to be shown over it and examine the works, and we enjoyed it very much. The great hall will be without a rival in England. The town hall is a noble edifice, and the people are quite proud of it. The interior is finally laid out, and has some spacious rooms for the civic revelries of the fathers of the town. The good woman who showed us round feels complacently enough as she explains the uses of the rooms. The ballroom is ninety feet by forty-six, and forty feet high. The dining and drawing rooms are spacious apartments. On the grand staircase is a noble statue of George Canning, by Chantry, whose beautiful one of Washington we have so often admired in the Boston State House. In the building are some good paintings of the late Kings, one or two by Sir Thomas Lawrence. The exchange is directly behind the hall, and contains in the center a glorious bronze monument to Lord Nelson, the joint production of Wyatt and West Maccott. Death is laying his hand upon the hero's heart, and victory is placing a fourth crown on his sword. Ever since I read Suthie's Life of Nelson, I have felt an interest in everything relating to this great, yet imperfect man. You know that illustrated work on Nelson that we have so often looked at? It contains a large engraving of this monument. As Yankee boys, we found our way to the top of the exchange to look at the cotton sales room. The same room has more to do with our good friends at the south than any other in the world. The atmosphere would have been chilly to a Georgian planter, as cotton was down, down. The necropolis is a very spacious burying place, open to all classes, and where persons can be interred with the use of any form desired. The gateway is of stone, and not unlike the granite one at Mount Auburn, and on one side is a chapel, and on the other a house for the register. Not far from this we came to the zoological gardens, kept in excellent order, and where there is a good collection of animals, birds, etc. The collegiate institution is an imposing structure in the Tudor style. George's church, which stands at the head of Lord Street, occupies the position of the old castle, destroyed, I believe, more than one hundred and fifty years ago, and is a very graceful termination to one of the best business avenues in the city. Several of the churches and chapels are in good style, but one of the buildings is, as it should be, in a city like this, the sailor's home, not far from the custom house. This is a highly ornamented house, and would adorn any city of the world. The custom house is thought to be one of the finest buildings in the kingdom. It occupied ten years in its erection. It is composed of three facades, from a rusticated pavement, each having a splendid portico of eight ionic columns. The whole is surmounted by a dome, one hundred and thirty feet high, and the effect of the building is excellent. The glory of Liverpool is her docks, and a stranger is sure to be pointed to the great landing stage, and the immense floating pier, which was moored into its present position on the first of June, eighteen forty-seven. This stage is five hundred and seven feet long, and over eighty feet wide. This mass of timber floats upon pontoons, which have to support more than two thousand tons. At each end is a light barge. In the Clarence Dock are to be found the Irish and coasting steamers, and to the north are the Trafalgar, Victoria, and Waterloo Docks, the Princess Dock, and the great Princess Dock Basin. On the outside of all these is a fine parade of about one half a mile, and which affords one of the most beautiful marine promenades in the world, and gives an interesting view of the Cheshire Shore opposite the city. The Princess Dock is five hundred yards long, and one hundred broad. Vessels, on arriving, discharge on the east side, and take in cargo on the west. Besides all these there is the Brunswick Dock, the Queen's Dock, the Duke's Dock, the Salt House Dock, etc. The Royal Liverpool Institution is a great benefit to the inhabitants. It has a good library, fine collections of paintings, and a good museum of natural history. Many of these paintings belong to the early masters, and date even before the fifteenth century. We were interested to find here a complete set of castes of the Elgin marbles. The originals were the decorations of the Parthenon at Athens, and are now in the British Museum. As we shall spend some time in that collection, I say no more at present about these wonderful monuments of genius. The Athenium and the Lyceum are both fine buildings, and each has a good library, lecture, and newsroom. We were disappointed at finding the Reverend Dr. Raffles, the most eloquent preacher of the city, out of town. He was the successor of Spencer, who was drowned bathing in the Mersey, and his life by Raffles is one of deep interest. The great historical name of Liverpool is William Roscoe, the author of the Lies of Leo X and the Medici. I must not omit to tell you that, during our stay, the town was all alive with a regimen of lancers, just to ride from Ireland on their way to London. They are indeed fine-looking fellows, and are mounted on capital horses. I have watched their evolutions in front of the Adelphi with much pleasure, and have been amused to notice a collection of the most wretched-looking boys I ever saw brought together by the troops. There seems to be more paparism this week in Liverpool than I ever saw in New York in my life. Truly yours, James. Letter 4 of Young Americans Abroad or Vacation in Europe Travels in England, France, Holland, Belgium, Prussia, and Switzerland, edited by J. O. Choules, read for LibriVox.org into the public domain. London Dear Charlie, does it not seem strange that I am here in London? I can hardly tell what to write about first. I stand at the door of our hotel and look at the crowds in the streets, and then at Old King Charles at Charn Cross, directly across the road, and when I think that this is the old city where Watt Tyler figured, and Whittington was Lord Mayor, and Lady Jane Gray was beheaded, and where the tower is still to be seen, I am half beside myself and want to do nothing but roam about for a good month to come. I have read so much concerning London that I am pretty sure I know more about it than most of the boys who have heard Bo Church bells all their lives. We left Liverpool for Birmingham, where we passed an afternoon and evening in the family of a manufacturer very pleasantly, and at ten o'clock took the express mail train for London. We are staying at a hotel called the Golden Cross, Charn Cross. We have our breakfast in the coffee room, and then dine as it suits our convenience as to place an hour. We spent one day in writing about the city, and I think we got quite an idea of the grand streets. The Strand is a very fine business street, perhaps a mile long. It widens in one part, and has two churches in the middle of it, and a narrow street seems built inside it at one place, as nasty dirty a lane as I ever saw called Hollowell Street. I was very much delighted at the end of the Strand to see Old Temple Bar, which is the entrance to the city proper, and which divides Fleet Street from the Strand. It is a noble archway, with small side arches for foot passengers. The head of many a poor fellow, and the quarters of men called traitors, have been fastened over this gateway in former times. Dr. Johnson was once walking in Westminster Abbey with Goldsmith, and as they were looking at the poet's corner, Johnson said to his friend, Forcittin et Nostrum nomen messibitur eistus. When they had walked on to Temple Bar, Goldsmith stopped Johnson, pointed to the heads of Fletcher and Townley, hanging above, and slyly remarked, Forcittin et Nostrum nomen messitur eistus. I suppose you remember that the great dictionary man was a Jacobite in his heart. The present bar was put up in 1870, and was designed by Sir Christopher Wren. The statues on the sides, which are towards the city, are those of Queen Elizabeth and James I, and towards the Strand, those of Charles I and Charles II. They stand in niches. Whenever the monarch passes into the city, there is much ceremony takes place at the bar. The gates are closed, a herald sounds a trumpet and knocks for entrance. The gates are opened, and the Lord Mayor of London presents the sword of the city to the sovereign, who returns it to his Lordship. The upper part of the bar is used by Messers' childs, the bankers, as a storeroom for their past account books. Fleet Street is thronged with passengers and carriages of all sorts. Just a few doors from the bar, on the right-hand side, is a gaily painted front, which claims to have been a palace of Henry VIII and the residence of Cardinal Woolsey. It is now used as a hair-cutting shop upstairs. We went up and examined the paneled ceiling, said to be just as it used to be. It is certainly very fine, and looks as if it were as old as the times of Bluff Hairy. Of course we had our hair cut in the old palace. We followed through Fleet Street, noticing the offices of Punch and the London Illustrated News, till we came to Ledgate Hill, rather in ascent, which is the direct way to the Cathedral Church of St. Paul's. It stands directly in front of Ledgate Hill, and the church yard occupies a large space, and the streets open on each side, making a sort of square called Paul's Church Shard, and then at the rear you go into Cheapside. We looked with interest, I can tell you, at Bow Church, and, as the old bells were ringing, I tried to listen if I could hear what Whittington heard once from their tingling. Turn again, Whittington, Lord Mayor of London. At the end of this street, on the right hand, is the Lord Mayor's House, called the Mansion House, and directly in front of the street, closing it up and making it break off, is the Royal Exchange, whilst at the left is the Bank of England. All these are very noble-looking buildings, and you will hear about them from us as we examine them in our future walks. We went to the counting-house of Messer's Bearing and Company, the great merchants and bankers for so many Americans, and there we found our letters and got some money. Sir Sturgis, one of the partners, told us to take the check to the bank, number sixty-eight Lombard Street, and informed us that was the very house for the great merchant of Queen Elizabeth's time Sir Thomas Gresham used to live. He built the first London Exchange, and his sign, a large grasshopper, is still preserved at the bank. On Good Friday we had buns for breakfast, with a cross upon them, and they were sold through the streets by children, crying, one a penny, two a penny, hot cross buns. We took a carriage and rode to Camden Town to visit a friend, thence we took the cars to Hackney, and called on the Reverend Doctor Cops, who some fifteen years ago made the tour of the United States, and wrote a volume on our country. We then returned to London, and took our dinner at the London Coffee-House, Ludgate Hill. This has been a very celebrated house for one hundred years, and figures largely in the books of travelers fifty years ago. It has a high reputation still, and everything was excellent, and the waiting good. You cannot walk about London without observing how few boys of our age are to be seen in the streets, and when we asked the reason we were told that nearly all the lads of respectable families were sent to boarding schools, and the vacations only occur at June and December, then the boys return home, and the city swarms with them at all the places of amusement. We seem to be the objects of attention, because we wore caps—here boys all wear hats, and then our guilt buttons on blue jackets led many to suppose that we were mid-shipmen. The omnibuses are very numerous, and each one has a conductor, who stands on a high step on the left side of the door, watching the sidewalks, and crying out the destination of the bus, as the vehicle is called. There is a continual cry, bank, bank, cross, cross, city, city, etc. I must not forget to tell you one thing, and that is, London is the place to make a sightseeing boy very tired, and I am quite sure that in ten minutes I shall be unable to do what I can now very heartily, this assure you that I am yours affectionately, George. End of Letter Four, read by Subella Denton. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information, please visit LibriVox.org. Letter Five of Young Americans Abroad, or Vacation in Europe, Travels in England, France, Holland, Belgium, Prussia, and Switzerland, edited by J. O. Choules. Read for LibriVox.org into the public domain. London Dear Charlie After passing a day or two in a general view of the city, and making some preliminary arrangements for our future movements, we all called upon Mr. Lawrence, the minister of our country at the court of St. James, which expression refers to the appellation of the old palace of George III. Mr. Lawrence resides in Piccadilly, opposite the St. James's park, in a very splendid mansion which he rents from an English nobleman all furnished. We were very kindly received by his Excellency, who expressed much pleasure at seeing his young countrymen coming abroad, and said he was very fond of boys and liked them as travelling companions. I handed him a letter of introduction from his brother. Mr. Lawrence offered us all the facilities in his power to see the sights, and these are great, for he is furnished by the Government of England with orders which will admit parties to almost everything in and about London. Amongst other tickets he gave us the following admissions, to the Queen's Stables, Windsor Castle, Dulloch Gallery, Wooloch Arsenal, Navy Yard, Scion House, and Northumberland House, Houses of Parliament, and, what we highly valued, an admission to enter the exhibition which is yet unfinished and not open to inspection. After leaving the minister, we paid our respects to Mr. Davis, the Secretary of Legation, and were kindly received. We walked on from Piccadilly to the Crystal Palace passing Apsley House, the residence of the Duke of Wellington, and soon reached Hyde Park, with its famous gateway and the far-famed statue of the Duke. As we shall go into some detailed account of the Palace after the exhibition opens, I would say only that we were exceedingly surprised and delighted with the building itself, and were so taken up with that as hardly to look at its contents which were now rapidly getting into order. The effect of the noble elms which are covered up in the palace is very striking and pleasing, and very naturally suggests the idea that the house would, by and by, make a glorious greenhouse for the city, where winter's discontents might almost be made into glorious summer. A poor fellow was killed here just before we entered by falling through the skylight-roof. He was at work on a plank laid across the iron frame, and that tipping up threw him onto the glass, and his death was instantaneous. We are more and more pleased at having so central a domicile as the Golden Cross, for time is everything when you have to see sights, and here we can get to any point we desire by bus and obtain a fly at any moment. Very much that we desire to see, too, is east of Temple Bar, and our mentor seems determined that we shall become acquainted with the London of other times, and we rarely walk out without learning who lived in that house and what event happened in that street. I fancy that we are going to gather up much curious matter for future use and recollection by our street wanderings. A book called The Streets of London is our frequent study, and is daily consulted with advantage. Today we dined at the famous Williams's in Old Bailey, where boiled beef is said to be better than at any other place in London. It was certainly as fine as could be desired. The customers were numerous and looked like businessmen. The proprietor was a busy man, and his eyes seemed everywhere. A vision of cockroaches, however, dispelled the appetite for dessert, and we perambulated our way to the Monument. This has a noble appearance, and stands on Fish Street. The pillar is two hundred and two feet high, and is surmounted by a gilt frame. The object of the Monument is to commemorate the great fire of London in Charles II's reign. It had an inscription which ascribed the origin of the fire to the Catholics, but recently this has been obliterated. It was to this inscription an allegation that the Pope referred to in his lines, where London's column pointing to the skies like a tall bully lifts its head and lies. There are few things in London that have impressed us more than the fine, massive bridges which span the Thames, and are so crowded with foot passengers and carriages. Every boy who has read much has had his head full of notions about London Bridge, that is, Old London Bridge, which was taken down about thirty years ago. The old bridge was originally a wooden structure, and on the sides of the bridge were houses, and the pathway in front had all sorts of goods exposed for sale, and the southern gate of the bridge was disfigured with the heads and quarters of the poor creatures who were executed for treason. The new bridge was commenced in 1825, and it was opened in 1831 by William IV and Queen Adelaide. The bridge has five arches, the central one is one hundred and fifty feet in the clear, the two next one hundred and forty feet, and the extreme arches one hundred and thirty feet. The length, including the abutments, is about one thousand feet, its width eighty-three feet, and the road for carriages fifty-five feet. The great roads leading to London Bridge have been mostly costly affairs, and I was told that a parish and its church had been destroyed to make these approaches. The men of different generations, who for almost one thousand years looked at the old bridge, would stare at the present one and its present vicinity if they were to come back again. Southwick Bridge was commenced in 1814 and finished in 1819. It has three arches, and the central arch is two hundred and forty feet, which is the greatest span in the world. In this bridge are five thousand three hundred and eight tons of iron. That Friars Bridge was commenced in 1760 and opened in 1770. It has nine elliptical arches, of which the middle one is one hundred feet in width. Recently this bridge has been thoroughly repaired. I think this is my favorite standpoint for the river and city. Nowhere else have I obtained such a view up and down the river. Here I have a full prospect of the tower, St. Paul's Cathedral, Somerset House, the Houses of Parliament, Westminster Abbey, and perhaps twenty-five other churches. But the Great Bridge of All is the Waterloo one, commenced in 1811 and opened in 1817, on the eighteenth of June, the anniversary of the Battle of Waterloo. Of course the Duke of Wellington figured upon the occasion. At this point the river is one thousand three hundred and twenty-six feet wide, and the bridge is of nine elliptical arches, each of one hundred and twenty feet space, and thirty-five feet high above high water, and its entire length two thousand four hundred and fifty-six feet. It is painful to hear the sad stories which have a connection with this magnificent structure. It seems the chosen resort of London suicides, and very frequent are the events which almost justify its appellation, the bridge of size. I love to walk this and the other bridges, and look at the mighty city, and think of its wonderful history and its existing place in the affairs of the world, and I cannot help thinking of the reflections of the wise man. One generation passeth away, but the earth remaineth. I have never felt my own insignificance so much, Charlie, as when walking in one of these crowded streets. I know no one, I am unknown, I am in solitude, and feel it more perhaps than I should feel if alone upon a mountaintop were in a wilderness. I am sure I have told you enough for once, and perhaps you are as tired of my letter as I was in going over the places I have written to you about. So I will relieve your patience. I am yours always, Weld. Letter 6 of Young Americans Abroad, or Vacation in Europe, travels in England, France, Holland, Belgium, Prussia, and Switzerland, founded by J. O. Choules, read for LibriVox.org into the public domain. London Dear Charlie, all around London there are the most exquisite villages or towns full of charming retreats, boxes of wealthy tradesmen, and some very fine rows of brick and stone residences with gardens in front. I am used to see almost every house having a name. Thus you will find one house called, on the gateway, Hamilton Villa, the next Hawthorne Lodge, whilst opposite their fellow's rejoice in the name's Pellum House, Cranbourne Cottage, and so it is with hundreds of neat little domiciles. I think the road up to St. John's Wood is one of the prettiest I have seen, and there are in it perhaps two hundred habitations, each having its sober-kay. Since writing to you last, we have been to Camberwell, a very pretty place, two or three miles from the city. We called on a gentleman who had a party that night, and we were politely invited, and spent an agreeable evening. The supper was elegant, and the ladies were quite inquisitive as to our social manners. One gentleman present had a son in Wisconsin, and he seemed to fancy that, as that state was in the United States, it was pretty much like the rest of the country. We told him that Wisconsin was about as much like New York and Massachusetts as Brighton, in 1851, was like what it was one hundred years ago. When we talk with well-educated persons here, we are much demused at their entire unacquaintedness with American geography and history. I think an importation of Morse's school geography would be of great service. We very often lose our patience when we hear about the great danger of life in America. I find very intelligent and respectable persons who fancy that life is held by a slight tenure in the Union, and that law and order are almost unknown. Now the first week we were in London, the papers teamed with accounts of murders in various parts of England. One newspaper detailed no less than eleven cases of murder, or executions on account of murders. Poison, however, seems just at present the prevailing method by which men and women are removed. As to accidents in travel, we no doubt have our full share, but since our arrival in England the railroad trains have had some pretty rough shakings, and the results and loss of life and limb would have passed for quite ugly enough, even had they happened in the West. I very much wish you could have been with us on Easter Monday when we passed the day at Greenwich, and were at the renowned Greenwich Fair which lasts for three days. The scene of revelry takes place in the park, a royal one, and really a noble one. Here all the riff-raff and bobtail of London repair in their finery and have a time. You can form no notion of the affair, it cannot be described. The upper part of the park, towards the royal observatory, is very steep, and down this boys and girls, men and women, have a role. Such scenes, as are here to be witnessed, we cannot match. Nothing can exceed the doings that occur. All the public houses swarm, and in no spot have I ever seen so many places for drinking as are here. The working men of London and apprentices, with wires and sweethearts, all turn out Easter Monday. It seems as though all the horses, carts, chases, and hackney-coaches of the city were on the road. We saw several enormous coal wagons crammed tightly with boys and girls. On the fine heath, or down, that skirts the park, are hundreds of donkeys, and you are invited to take a half-penny, penny, or two-penny ride. All sorts of gamblings are to be seen. One favorite game with the youngsters was to have a tobacco box full of coppers, stuck on a stick standing in a hole, and then, for a half-penny paid to the proprietor, you are entitled to take a shy at the mark. If it falls into the hole, you lose. If you knock it off and away from the hole, you take it. It requires, I fancy, much adroitness and experience to make anything at shying at the backy-box. At night, Greenwich is all alive. Life is out of London and in the fair. But let the traveler who has to return to town beware. The road is full of horses and vehicles, driven by drunk men and boys, and for four or five miles you can imagine that a city is besieged, and that the inhabitants are flying from the sword. Oh, such weary-looking children as we saw that day! One favorite amusement was to draw a little wooden instrument quick over the coat of another person when it produces a noise precisely like that of a torn garment. Hundreds of these machines were in the hands of the urchins who crowded the park. Here for the first time I saw the veritable gypsy of whose race we have read so much in borough Zincali. The women are very fine-looking and some of the girls were exquisitely beautiful. They are a swarthy-looking set and seem to be a cross of Indian and Jew. Those we saw were proper, wirely-looking fellows. One or two of the men were natally dressed, with fancy silk handkerchiefs. They live intense and migrate through the Midland counties, but I believe are not as numerous as they were 30 years ago. You will not soon forget how we were pleased with the memoirs of Banfield Moore Carew, who was once known as their king in Great Britain. I wonder that book has never been reprinted in America. I am pretty sure that Greenwich Park would please your taste. I think the view from the royal observatory and from whence longitude is reckoned is one of the grandest I have ever seen. You get a fine view of the noble palace once the royal residence, but now the sailor's home. You see the Thames with its immense burden and through the mist the great city. As to the hospital, we shall leave that for another excursion. We came to Greenwich at the present merely to witness Easter fair, and it will not soon be forgotten by any of us. Yours, et cetera, James. Dear Charlie As we had a few days to spare before the exhibition opened, we proposed to run down to Bristol and Bath and pass a week. We took the great western train first class cars and made the journey of one hundred and twenty miles in two hours and forty minutes. This is the perfection of traveling. The cars are very commodious, holding eight persons, each having a nicely cushioned chair. The rail is the broad gauge, and we hardly felt the motion, so excellent is the road. The county through which we passed was very beautiful, and perhaps it never appears to more advantage than in the gay garniture of spring. We left Windsor Castle to our left, and eaten college, and passed by Redding, a fine, flourishing town, and at Swindon we made a stay of ten minutes. The station at this place is very spacious and elegant. Here the passengers have the only opportunity to obtain refreshments on the route, and never did people seem more intent upon laying in Provender. The table was finally laid out, and a great variety tempted the appetite. The railroad company, when they leased this station, stipulated that every train should pass ten minutes at it, but the express train claimed exemption and refused to afford the time. The landlord prosecuted the company, obtained satisfactory damages, and now even the express train affords its passengers time to recruit at Swindon. This place is grown up under the auspices of the railroad, and one can hardly imagine a prettier place than environs the station. The cottages are of stone, of the Elizabethan and Tudor style, and are very numerous, while the church, which is just finished, is one of the neatest affairs I have yet seen in England. The town of Swindon is about two miles from the station, and I expect to visit it in the course of my journey. You know, my dear Charlie, how long and fondly I have anticipated my visit to my native city, and can imagine my feelings on this route homewards. We passed through Bath, a most beautiful city, and I think as beautiful as any I ever saw, and then in half an hour we entered Bristol. The splendid station-house of the railroad was new to me, but the old streets and houses were familiar as if they had been left but yesterday. The next morning I called on my friends, and you may think how sad my disappointment was to find that a dangerous accident had just placed my nearest relative in the chamber of a painful confinement for probably three months. It was a pleasant thing to come home to scenes of childhood and youth, and I was prepared to enjoy every hour, but soon I realized that here all our roses have thorns. Of course in Bristol I need no guide, and the boys are, I assure you, pretty thoroughly fagged out when night comes with our perambulations through the old city and neighborhood. Bristol has claims upon the attention of the stranger, not only as one of the oldest cities in England, but on account of its romantic scenery. The banks of the Avon are not to be surpassed by the scenes afforded by any other river of its size in the world. This city was founded by Brannis, the chieftain of the Gauls in the Conqueror of Rome, 388 B.C., and tradition states that his brother Bellinus aided him in the work. The statues of these worthies are quaintly carved on the gateway of John's Church in Broad Street, and are a very great antiquity. In the earliest writings that bear upon the west of England, the Welsh Chronicles, this city is called Caer Oder, which means the city of the chasm. This the Saxons called Clifton. The Avon runs through a tremendous fissure in the rocks called Vincent's Rocks, and hence the name given to the suburbs of the city on its banks, Clifton. Of this place we shall have much to tell you. Another Welsh name for the city was Caer Brito, or the painted city, or the famous city. Bristol, like Rome, stands on seven hills, and on every side is surrounded by the most attractive scenery. It has made quite a figure in history, and its castle was an object of great importance during the civil wars between Charles I and his parliament. This city stands in two counties, and has the privileges of one itself. It is partly in Gloucestershire and partly in Somersetshire. The population of Bristol, with Clifton and the Hot Wells, is about two hundred thousand. My first excursion with the boys was to Redcliffe Church, which is thought to be the finest parish church in England. This is the church where poor Chatterton said that he found the rally manuscript. No one of taste visits the city without repairing to this venerable pile. Its antiquity, beauty of architecture, and the many interesting events connected with its history claim particular notice. This church was probably commenced about the beginning of the thirteenth century, but it was completed by William Conninge, senator, but it was completed by William Conninge, senior, mayor of the city in 1396. In 1456 the lofty spire was struck by lightning, and one hundred feet fell upon the south aisle. The approach from Redcliffe Street is very impressive. The highly ornamented tower, the west front of the church, its unrivaled north porch, and the transept with flying buttresses, pinnacles, and parapet cannot fail to gratify every beholder. The building stands on a hill and is approached by a magnificent flight of steps, guarded by a heavy balustrade. In length the church in the Lady Chapel is 239 feet. From north to south of the cross aisles is 117 feet. The height of the middle aisle is 54, and of the north and south aisles 25 feet. The impression produced on the spectator by the interior is that of awe and reverence, as he gazes on the clustered pillars, the mullioned windows, the paneled walls, the groined ceilings, decorated with ribs, tracery, and bosses, all evincing the skill of its architects and the wonderful capabilities of the Gothic style. The east window and screen have long been hidden by some large paintings of Hogarth. The subjects of these are the Ascension, the Three Marys at the Sepulchre, and the High Priest's Ceiling Christ Tomb. On a column in the south transept is a flat slab, with a long inscription in memory of Sir William Penn, father of William Penn, the great founder of Pennsylvania. The column is adorned with his banner and armor. The boys, who had so often read of Guy, Earl of Warwick, and of his valorous exploits, were greatly pleased to find in this church, placed against a pillar a rib of the done cow which he is said to have slain. You may be very sure that we inquired for the room in which Chatterton said he found Old Monk Rowley's poems. It is an hexagonal room over the North porch in which the archives were kept. Chatterton's uncle was sexton of the church, and the boy had access to the building, and carried off parchment at his pleasure. The idea of making a literary forgery filled his mind, and if you read Salvy and Cottle's edition of the works of Chatterton, or what is far better, an admirable life of the young poet by John Dix, a gifted son of Bristol, now living in America, you will have an interesting view of the character of this remarkable youth. At the east end of the church is the Chapel of the Virgin Mary. A noble room it is. A large statue of Queen Elizabeth in wood stands against one of the windows, just where it did thirty-seven years ago, when I was a youngster, and went to her Majesty's Grammar School, which is taught in the chapel. I showed the boys the names of my old school fellows cut upon the desks. How various their fates. One fine fellow, whose name yet lives on the wood, found his grave in the West Indies on a voyage he had anticipated with great joy. I am glad to say that a spirited effort is now making to restore this glorious edifice. It was greatly needed, and was commenced in 1846. I do wish you could see this church and gaze upon its interior. I have obtained some fine drawings of parts of the edifice, and they will enable you to form some faint idea of the splendor of the whole. We have to dine with a friend, and I must close. Yours affectionately, J-O-C. End of Letter Seven Read by Cibella Denton. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information, please visit LibriVox.org. Letter Eight of Young Americans Abroad, or Vacation in Europe, travels in England, France, Holland, Belgium, Prussia, and Switzerland, edited by J.O. Choules. Read for LibriVox.org into the public domain. Bristol Dear Charlie, you have so often expressed a desire to see the fine cathedral churches and abbeys of the Old World that I shall not apologize for giving you an account of them, and as they are more in my way I shall take them into my hands and let the lads write you about other things. The next visit we took, after I wrote you last, was to the cathedral. This is of great antiquity. In 1848 a monastery was dedicated to St. Augustine. This good man sent one Jordan as missionary in 603, and here he labored faithfully and died. It seems, I think, well sustained that the venerable Austin himself preached here, and that his celebrated conference with the British clergy took place on College Green, and it is thought that the cathedral was built on its site to commemorate the event. The vicinity of the church is pleasing. If its hardings, the founders of the Berkeley family began the foundation of the abbey in 1140, and it was endowed and dedicated in 1148. The tomb of St. Robert, the founder, lies at the east of the door and is enclosed with rails. Some of the buildings connected with the church are of great antiquity and are probably quite as old as the body of the cathedral. A gateway leading to the cloisters and chapter-houses plainly Saxon, and is regarded as the finest Saxon archway in England. The western part of the cathedral was demolished by Henry VIII. The eastern part, which remains, has a fine gothic choir. This was created a bishop's sea by Henry VIII. It is interesting to think that Sucker, Butler, and Newton have all been bishops of this diocese, and Warburton, who wrote the divine legation of Moses, was once dean of Bristol. The immortal Butler, who wrote the analogy of natural and revealed religion, lies buried here, and his tombstone is on the south aisle at the entrance of the choir. A splendid monument has been erected to his memory, with the following inscription from the pen of Robert Suthie, himself a Bristolian. Sacred to the memory of Joseph Butler, D. C. L., twelve years bishop of this diocese, afterwards of Durham, whose mortal remains are here deposited. Others had established the historical and prophetic grounds of the Christian religion and the true testimony of truth which is found in its perfect adaptation to the heart of man. It was reserved for him to develop its analogy to the constitution and course of nature, and laying his strong foundations in the depth of that great argument, there to construct another an irrefragable proof, thus rendering philosophy subservient to faith, and finding in outward and visible things the type and evidence of those within the veil. Born A.D. 1693, died 1752. We noticed a very fine monument by Bacon to the memory of Mrs. Draper, said to have been the Eliza of Stern. We hastened to find the world-renowned tomb of Mrs. Mason, and to read the lines on marble of that inimitable epitaph, which has acquired a wider circulation than any other in the world. The lines were written by her husband, the Reverend William Mason. Take holy earth, all that my soul holds dear. Take that best gift which heaven so lately gave. To Bristol's fount I bore with trembling care. Her faded form. She bowed to taste the wave, and died. Does youth? Does beauty read the line? Does sympathetic fear their breast alarm? Speak, dead Maria, breathe a strain divine. Even from the grave thou shalt have power to charm. Bid them be chaste, be innocent, like thee. Bid them in duty's fear as meekly move. And if so, from vanity is free, as firm in friendship, and as fond in love, tell them, though it is an awful thing to die, twas even to thee, yet the dread path wants trod, heaven lifts its everlasting portals high, and bids the pure in heart behold their God. In the cloisters we saw the tomb of Byrd, the artist, a royal academician and a native of Bristol. We're much interested with the noble bust of Robert Suthie, the poet, which has just been erected in the North Isle. It stands on an octangular pedestal of grey marble with gothic panels. The bust is of the most exquisitely beautiful marble. The inscription is in German text. Robert Suthie, born in Bristol, October 4th, 1774, died at Rezic, March 21st, 1843. Robert Suthie. The cloisters contain some fine old rooms, which recall the days of the tutors. Here we saw the apartments formerly occupied by the learned and accomplished Dr. Hodges, now organist of Trinity Church, New York. This gentleman is a native of Bristol, and is held we find in respectful and affectionate remembrance by the best people of this city. Opposite to the cathedral and on the other side of the college green is the mayor's chapel, where his honor attends divine service. In Catholic days this was the church and hospital of the Virgin Mary. This edifice was built by one Maurice de Gaulle in the 13th century. Under the tower at the east front is a small door by which you enter the church, and on the north another by which you enter a small room, formerly a confessional, with two arches in the walls for the priest and the penitent. In this room are eight niches in which images once stood. The roof is vaulted with freestone in the center of which are two curious shields and many coats of arms. In 1830 this chapel was restored and beautified. A fine painted window was added, and the altar screen restored to its former beauty at the expense of the corporation. The front of the organ gallery is very rich in gothic molding, tracery, croquettes, etc. It is flanked at the angles with octagonal turrets of singular beauty embattled and surmounted with canopies, croquettes, etc. The spandrels, quaterfoils, buttresses, sculptures, and cornices are exceedingly admired. The pulpit is of stone and the mayor's throne of carved oak is of elaborate finish. Here are two knights in armor with their right hands on their sword-hills, on the left their shields with their legs crossed, which indicates that they were crusaders. In every excursion around Bristol the boys were struck with the fact that an old tower was visible on a high hill. The hill is called Dundry, and it is said that it can be seen everywhere for a circle of five miles around the city. Dundry is five miles from Bristol and fourteen from Bath, and it commands the most beautiful and extensive prospect in the west of England. We rode out to it with an early friend of mine, who is now the leading medical man of Bristol, and when I tell you that we went in an Irish jaunting car you may guess that we were amused. The seats are at the sides, and George was in ecstasies at the novelty of the vehicle. And on the summit we saw at the north and east the cities of Bath and Bristol, and our view included the hills of Wiltshire and the Malvern hills of Worcester. The Severn from north to west is seen embracing the Welsh coast, and beyond are the far famed mountains of Wales, with turdded pinnacles fifteen feet above the battlements. We rode over to Chew Magna, a village two miles beyond Dundry. Here I went to a boarding school thirty-eight years ago, and I returned to the village for the first time. It had altered but little. The streets seemed narrower, but there was the old tower where I played fives, and there were the cottages where I bought fruit, and when I entered it, Charlie, I found young Mr. Bat, a man of eighty-six. His father used to be old Mr. Bat, and he always called his son boy, and we boys termed him young Mr. Bat. I came back and found him eighty-six. So do years fly away. I called on one old school fellow, some years my junior. He did not recognize me, but I at once remembered him. We partook of a lunch at his house. I was sadly disappointed to find the old boarding school gone, but was not a little relieved when I heard that it had given place to a Baptist church. I confess I should have liked to occupy its pulpit for one Sabbath day. Tomorrow we are to spend at Clifton, the beautiful environment of Bristol, and shall most likely write you again. Stories Affectionately, J. O. C. Number nine of Young Americans Abroad, or Vacation in Europe, travels in England, France, Holland, Belgium, Prussia, and Switzerland, edited by J. O. Choules, read for LibriVox.org into the public domain. Bristol Dear Charlie, Clifton and the Hotwells are the suburbs of this city, extending along for a mile or two on the banks of the Avon. One mile below the city the Avon passes between the rocks, which are known as St. Vincent's on the one side, and Lee Woods upon the opposite one. These rocks are amongst the sublimities of nature, and the Avon for about three miles presents the wildest and sweetest bit of scenery imaginable. These cliffs have been for ages the admiration of all beholders, and though thousands of tons are taken from the quarries every year, yet the inhabitants say that no great change takes place in their appearance. The Avon has a prodigious rise of tide at Bristol, and at low water the bed of the river is a mere brook, with immense banks of mud. The country around is exquisitely attractive, and affords us an idea of cultivation and adornment beyond what we are accustomed to at home. In these rocks are found fine crystals, which are known everywhere as Bristol diamonds. We obtained some specimens which reminded us of the crystals so frequently seen at Little Falls on the Mohawk. The great celebrity of the Hotwells is chiefly owing to a hot spring, which issues from the rock and possesses valuable medical qualities. This spring had a reputation as early as fourteen eighty. It discharges about forty gallons per minute and was first brought into notice by sailors, who found it useful for sorbutic disorders. In sixteen eighty it became famous, and a wealthy merchant rendered it so by a dream. He was afflicted with diabetes, and dreamed that he was cured by drinking the water of this spring. He resorted to the imagined remedy, and soon recovered. Its fame now spread, and in sixteen ninety the corporation of Bristol took charge of the spring. We found the water, fresh from the spring, at the temperature of Fahrenheit seventy-six degrees. It contains free carbonic acid gas. Its use is seen chiefly in cases of pulmonary consumption. I suppose it has wrought wonders in threatening cases. It is the place for an invalid who begins to fear, but it is not possible to create a soul under the ribs of death. Unhappily people in sickness too seldom repaired to such aid as may be found here till the last chances of recovery are exhausted. I have never seen a spot where I thought the fragile and delicate inconstitution might pass the winter sheltered from every storm more securely than in this place. Tie houses for accommodation are without end, both at the Hotwells and at Clifton. This last place is on the high ground, ascending up to the summit of the rocks, where you enter on a noble campus known as Dirtham Down. This extends for some three or four miles and is skirted by charming villages which render the environs of Bristol so far famed for beauty. I never wish to have your company more than when we all ascended the height of St. Vincent's Rocks. The elevation at which we stood was about three hundred and fifty feet above the winding river, which, it is thought, by some sudden convulsions of nature turned from the moors of Somersetshire, its old passage to the sea, and forced an abrupt one between the rocks and the woods, and the corresponding dip of the strata, the cavities on one side, and projections on the other, make this opposition very plausible. A suspension bridge over this awful chasm is in progress. The celebrated pulpit orator, Robert Hall, always spoke of the scenery of this region as having done very much in his early days to form his notions of the beautiful. In one of his most admirable sermons preached at Bristol, when discoursing upon the new heavens and the new earth, he indulged in an astonishing outbreak of eloquence, while he conducted his audience to the surpassing beauties of their own vincenage, sin-ruined as it was, and then supposed that this earth might become the dwelling-place of the redeemed. When, having been purified from evil, it should again become very good. Here on these scenes of unrivaled beauty, Suthie and Lovell and Coleridge and Cottle have loved to meditate, and the wondrous boy Chatterton fed his nurse amid these rare exhibitions of the power and wisdom of the Godhead. A Roman encampment is still visible on the summit of the rocks. We were all sorry to see such habit going on among the quarries where, to use Suthie's language on the subject, they are selling off the sublime and beautiful by the boat-load. Our favorite walk is on the Downs. George seems really penetrated with the uncommon beauty of the region and wants to stop as long as possible, and does not believe anything can be more beautiful. We look over the awful cliffs, gaze on the thread of water winding its devious course at an immense distance below, watch the steamers from Wales and Ireland shoot up to the city, and the noble West India men as they are total on. The woods opposite are charming, and contain nearly every forest tree belonging to the country. Dr. Holland, in his travels through Greece, refers to this very spot in the following language. The features of nature are often best described by comparison, and to those who have visited Vincent's Rocks below Bristol, I cannot convey a more sufficient idea of the far-famed veil of Tempe than by saying that its scenery resembles, though on a much larger scale, that of the former place. The Penaeus, indeed, as it flows through the valley, is not greatly wider than the Avon, and the channel between the cliffs irregularly contracted in its dimensions, but these cliffs themselves are much loftier and more precipitous, and project their vast masses of rock with still more extraordinary abruptness over the hollow beneath. We devoted a morning to visit Lee Court, the residence of Mr. Miles, a wealthy merchant and member in Parliament for Bristol. This is regarded as one of the finest residences in the West of England. The mansion has an Ionic portico supported by massive columns. The Great Hall is very extensive. A double flight of steps leads you to a peristyle of the Ionic order around which are twenty marble columns supporting a lofty dome, lighted by painted glass. The floor is of colored marble. This residence has been enriched with the Choices Treasures from Mwanstead House and Font Hill Abbey. To us the grand attraction was the picture gallery, which has few superiors in this kingdom. A catalogue with etchings was published a few years ago. You may judge of the merits of the collection and the nature of our gratification when I tell you that here are the Conversion of Paul by Rubens, the Graces by Titian, William Tell by Holbein, Pope Julius II by Raphael, Eche Homo by Carl Dolce, Head of the Virgin by Correggio, St. Peter by Guido, St. John by Dominicino, Creator Mundi by Leonardo da Vinci, Crucifixion by Michelangelo, Plague of Athens by N. Poussin, Three Seaports by Claude, and a large number by Rembrandt, Salvatore Rosa, Paul Potter, Parmigiano, Velasquez, Gerard Dow, and et cetera. This has been a most gratifying excursion, and our visit here will be a matter of pleasant recollection. I forgot to say that at Clifton and at various places near the rocks we were beset by men, women, and children having very beautiful polished specimens of the various stones found in the quarries, together with minerals and petrifications. Of these we all obtained in assortment. Yours affectionately, J-O-C. End of Letter 9, read by Cibela Denton. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information, please visit LibriVox.org. Letter 10 of Young Americans Abroad, or Vacation in Europe, Travels in England, France, Holland, Belgium, Prussia, and Switzerland, edited by J. O. Choules, read for LibriVox.org into the public domain. Dear Charlie, we have, while at Bristol, made two journeys to bath, and I am sure we are all of opinion that it is the most elegant city we ever saw. A great deal of its beauty is owing to the fine freestone of which it is chiefly built. We were much pleased with the royal crescent, which consists of a large number of elegant mansions, all built in the same style. Ionic columns rise from a rustic basement and support the superior cornice. These houses are most elegantly furnished. All the city is seen from the crescent, and no other spot affords so grand a prospect. Camden Place is an elliptical range of edifices, commanding an extensive view of the valley with the winding stream of the avon and the villages upon its banks. One of the principal features of bath is its hills and downs, which shelter it on every side. The sides on these downs are very fine, extending for miles, and you see thousands of sheep enjoying the finest possible pastureage. Talking of sheep, I am reminded how very fine the sheep are here. It seems to me they are almost as big again as our mutton-makers. Queen Square in Bath pleases us all, as we are told it does everyone. It stands up high and is seen from most parts of the city. From north to south, between the buildings, it is three hundred and sixteen feet, and from east to west three hundred and six feet. In the center is an enclosure, and in that is a fine obelisk. The north side of the square is composed of stately dwellings, and they have all the appearance of a palace. The square is built of freestone, and is beautifully tented by age. The first thing almost we want to see in these fine towns is the cathedral, if there be one. I never thought that I should be so pleased with old buildings as I find I am. Old houses, castles, and churches have somehow strangely taken my fancy. The cathedral, or as they call it here, the Abbey Church, is a noble one. It was begun in 1495, and only finished in 1606, and stands on the foundation of an old convent, erected by Osric in 676. It is famous for its clustered columns and wide, elegantly arched windows. The roof is remarkable for having fifty-two windows, and I believe has been called the Lantern of England. You know that the city takes its name from its baths. The great resort of fashion is at the pump room and the colonnade. This building is eighty-five feet in length, forty-six wide and thirty-four high. This elegant room is open to the sick of every part of the world. An excellent band plays every day from one till half past three. The king's bath is a basin sixty-six feet by forty-one, and will contain three hundred and forty-six tons. I have been much pleased with Dr. Granville's works on the Spaws of England, and there you will find much interesting matter respecting bath. We made some pleasant excursions in the vicinity of this beautiful city. We have visited Bradford, Trowbridge, and Devises. Trowbridge is a final town, and we looked with interest at the church where the poet crabs so long officiated. His reputation here stands high as a good man and a kind neighbor, but he was called a poor preacher. Here and in all the neighboring places the manufacture of broad cloths and cashmere is carried on extensively. Devises is a charming old town. We were greatly interested with its market place, and a fine cross erected to hand down the history of a sad event. A woman who had appealed to God in support of a lie was here struck dead upon the spot, and the money which she said she had paid for some wheat was found clenched in her hand. This monument was built by Lord Sidmouth, and is a fine, freestone edifice with a suitable inscription. Round the way down, which hangs over this ancient town, was famous in the civil wars of Charles I. Here, too, are the relics of an old castle. Devises has two great cattle fairs, in spring and autumn, and the market-day, on Thursday, gave us a good idea of the rural population. We have rarely seen finer-looking men than were here to be seen around their wheat, barley, and oats. We have been pleased to see the great English game of cricket, which is so universally played by all young men in this country. It seems to us that the boys here have more athletic games than with us. Prisoner's bath seems a favourite boy's amusement, and nine pins, or as we call it, bowls, are played by all classes freely, and it is not regarded as at all unministerial. We are going to London this week and shall commence sight-seeing in earnest. Above all, we are to be at the exhibition. When I have seen the lions, I will write you again. Yours affectionately, James. Letter 11 of Young Americans Abroad, or Vacation in Europe, travels in England, France, Holland, Belgium, Prussia, and Switzerland, edited by J. O. Choules, read for LibreVox.org into the public domain. Letter 11, London Dear Charlie The story goes that Mr. Webster, when he first arrived in London, ordered the man to drive to the tower. Certainly we boys all wanted to go there as soon as possible. I do not think that I ever felt quite so touch-excitement as I did when we were riding to the tower. I had so many things crowding into my mind, and all the history of England with which I had been so pleased came at once freshly into my memory. I wanted to be alone and have all day to wander up and down the old prison and palace and museum, for it has been all these things by turns. Well, we rode over Tower Hill and got directly in front of the old fortress and had a complete view of it. In the center stands a lofty building with four white towers, having veins upon them. This is said to be the work of William the Conqueror, but it has had many alterations under William Rufus, Henry I, and Henry II. In 1315 the tower was besieged by the barons who made war on John. Henry III made his residence in the place, and did much to strengthen and adorn it. About this time the tower began to be used as a state prison. Edward I enlarged the ditch or moat which surrounded the tower. In the days of Richard II, when the king had his troubles with Swat Tyler, the archbishop of Canterbury, was beheaded on Tower Hill, or rather massacred, for it said that he was mangled by eight strokes of the axe. When Henry V gained his great victory at Agincourt, he placed his French prisoners here. Henry VIII was here for some time after he came to the throne, and he made his yeoman the warders of the tower, and they still wear the same dresses at that day. The dress is very rich, scarlet and gold, and made very large, the coat short, and sleeves full. The headdress is a cap. We went in at what is called the Lion's Gate, because some time back the menagerie was kept in apartments close by. The kings of other days used to have fights between beasts, and James I was very fond of combats between lions and dogs in the presence of his court. All these animals were moved several years ago to the zoological gardens. We passed through strong gates, defended by a portcullis, and on our left we saw what the warden called the Bell Tower, and which was the prison of Bishop Fisher, who was beheaded for not acknowledging Henry VIII to be the head of the church. I wanted to see the traitors' gate, and found it was on the right hand, having a communication with the Thames under a bridge on the wharf. Through this passage it was formerly the custom to convey the state prisoners, and many a man in passing this gate bad farewell to hope. There is, just opposite to this gate, the bloody tower where Edward V and his brother were put to death by the monster Richard, who usurped the throne. I would have given a great deal to have explored the tower, but the things and places I wanted to look into were just what you are not led to see. The old tower of English history you can look at, but must not go through. Still, I have been delighted, but not satisfied. We found the spot where the grand storehouse and armory were burnt in 1841, and if I recollect rightly the warden said it was three hundred and fifty feet long and sixty wide. Here I suppose was the finest collection of cannon and small firearms in the world. We saw some fine specimens that were saved. Of course we were curious to see the horse armory. This is a room one hundred and fifty feet in length and about thirty-five wide. Someone has said that here is the history of England done in iron. All down the middle of the room is a line of equestrian figures, and over each character is his banner. All the sides of the apartment are decorated with trophies and figures in armor. I was much gratified with the beautiful taste displayed in the arrangement of the arms upon the walls and ceiling. Some of the suits of armor are very rich, and answered exactly to my notions of such matters. Here I saw for the first time the coat of mail, and I think the men of that day must have been stronger than those of our time, or they never could have endured such trappings. I was much pleased with the real armor of Henry VIII. This suit was very rich and damest, and here, too, was the very armor of Dudley, Earl of Leicester, who figured at the court of Elizabeth. It weighs eighty-seven pounds, and close by it is the marshal suit of the unfortunate Essex. He was executed, you know, at this place, sixteen-o-one. Among the most beautiful armors we saw were the suits of Charles I and a small one, which belonged to his younger brother when a lad. I think one suit made for Charles when a boy of twelve would have fitted me exactly, and wouldn't I have liked to become its owner. King Charles's armor was a present from the city of London, and was one of the latest manufactured in England. I do not think I ever was in a place that so delighted me. I cannot tell you a hundredth part of the curiosities that are to be seen in all sorts of rude and ancient weapons, several instruments of torture, prepared by the Roman Catholics at the time of the Spanish armada, for the conversion of the English heretics. One of these was the iron collar, which weighs about fifteen pounds, and has a rim of inward spikes. And besides, we saw a barbarous instrument called the scavenger's daughter, which packed up the body and limbs into an inconceivably small place. We looked with deep interest, you may imagine, Charlie, on the block on which the Scotch lords Balmarino, Calamernuk, and Lovett were beheaded in seventeen forty-six. The fatal marks upon the wood are deeply cut, and we had in our hands the axe which was used at the execution of the Earl of Essex. I shall read the history of this country, I am sure, with more pleasure than ever, after walking over the yard and tower hill, where so many great and good, as well as so many infamous persons have suffered death. Only think what a list of names to be connected with the block—Fisher, Moor, Queen Anne Boleyn, Queen Catherine Howard, Margaret Countess of Salisbury, Cromwell and Devereux, both Earl's of Essex, the Duke of Somerset, Lady Jane Gray and her husband, the Duke of Northumberland, Sir Walter Raleigh, Stratford, Lod, all perished on the tower green or on the tower hill. The spot is easily recognized, where the scaffold was erected. The regalia, or crown jewels, are kept in an apartment built on purpose to contain these precious treasures. Here are the crowns that once belonged to different sovereigns and heirs of the throne. At the death of Charles I, the crown in use, and said to be as old as the times of Edward the Confessor, was broken up, and a new one made at the restoration of Charles II. The arches of this crown are covered with large stones of different colors, and the cap of the crown is of purple velvet. The old crown for the queen is of gold, set with diamonds of great cost, and has some large pearls. There is a crown called the diadem, which was made for James II's queen, adorned with diamonds and which cost just about half a million of dollars. The crown of the Prince of Wales is plain gold. As for orbs, staffs, and sceptres, I can't tell you the half of the number. One I noticed called St. Edward's staff, of gold, four feet, seven inches long. At the top is an orb and a cross, and a fragment of the Saviour's Cross is said to be in the orb. Here too are all kinds of swords, called Swords of Justice and Mercy, and vessels to hold the oil for anointing the monarch at Coronation, an assault cellar of gold which is used at the same time, and is a model of the tower. I thought all this very fine, but I was most pleased with seeing such splendid specimens of precious stones. Such diamonds, pearls, amethysts, emeralds, etc., we Yankee boys had never seen, and probably may never see again. I was very much delighted with a large silver wine fountain presented by Plymouth to Charles II, and which is used at Coronation banquets, and also with the font of Silver Guilt, used at the baptism of the Queen. It stands about four feet high. Overall this show that I have told you of is the state crown made for Victoria. This is very brilliant, and in the center of the Diamond Cross is a sparkling sapphire, while in front of the crown is a large ruby which was worn by the Black Prince. Well, Charlie my boy, I would rather go to Washington and look at our old copy of the Declaration of Independence than gaze for a whole day at this vast collection of treasure. There is more to be proud of in that old camp-equipage of Washington's up in the Patent Office than in all the crown jewels of England, at least so I think and so do you. Yours affectionately, George. End of Letter XI. Read by Cibela Denton. All LibriVox files are in the public domain. For more information, please visit LibriVox.org. Letter XII of Young Americans Abroad, or Vacation in Europe, travels in England, France, Holland, Belgium, Prussia and Switzerland, edited by J. O. Choules, read for LibriVox.org into the public domain. Letter XII. London. Dear Charlie, George has had a say about the tower, he tells me, and I assure you it was a time that we shall often think of when we get back. On our return the doctor proposed that we should visit the Thames Tunnel, which was not far off, and so we went through a number of poor streets, reminding us of the oldest parts of Boston, around Fanule Hall. The tunnel connects Rotherheith and Wapping. This last place, you know, we have read about enough in Dibdon's Seasongs, our old favorite. Several notions about this great idea have been entertained in past years, but in 1814, Brunei, the great engineer, noticed the work of a worm on a vessel's keel, where it had sawn its way longitudinally, and he caught an idea. In 1833 he formed a Thames Tunnel Company, and in 1825 he commenced operations, but it was not open till 1843 for passengers. There are no carriage approaches to it, and it is only available to foot travelers. The ascent and descent is by shafts of, perhaps, one hundred steps. I think I heard that the great work cost the company and the government who helped them about half a million sterling. The passages are all lighted up with gas, and in the way you find rary shows of dioramic character, and plenty of music, and not a few vendors of views and models of the Tunnel. After leaving this river curiosity, we went to see the New Houses of Parliament, which run along the banks of the river in close neighborhood to Westminster Abbey. I felt disappointed in the first view. It is altogether so much like a very large baseboard model, such a thing as you often see in ladies' fairs for charity. To my notion, the affair wants character. It is all beautiful detail. The length is about a thousand feet. The clock tower is to be three hundred and twenty feet high. It is vain to describe the building, which is far too immense and complicated for my pee. I was never so bewildered in a place before. As I think you would like to have a correct idea of the House of Lords, I will quote from the description which was handed to us on entering, but even then you will fail to understand its gorgeous character. Quote. Its length is ninety feet, height forty-five feet, and width the same, so that it is a double cube. It is lighted by twelve windows, six on each side, each of which is divided by millions into four, these being intersected by a transom, making eight lights in each window, which are made of stained glass, representing the kings and queens, consort and regent, since the conquest. The ceiling is flat and divided into eighteen large compartments, which are subdivided by smaller ribs into four, having at the intersection lashing-saped compartments. The center of the south end is occupied by the throne, each side of which are doors opening into Victoria Lobby. The throne is elevated on steps. The canopy is divided into three compartments, the center one rising higher than the others, and having under it the royal chair, which is a brilliant piece of workmanship, studded round the back with crystals. The shape of the chair is similar in outline to that in which the monarchs have been crowned, and which is in Westminster Abbey, but of course widely different in detail and decoration. On each side of this chair are others for Prince Albert and the Prince of Wales. At the north end is the bar of the house, where peals are heard, and the commons assemble when summoned on the occasion of the opening of Parliament. Above the bar is the reporters' gallery, behind which is the strangers, and round the sides of the house is another gallery intended for the use of pieresses, et cetera, on state occasions. At the north and south ends of the house, above the gallery are three compartments, corresponding in size and shape to the windows, and containing fresco paintings. Those at the north end are the spirit of religion by J. C. Horsley, the spirit of chivalry and the spirit of justice by D. MacLeese, R. A. Those at the south end, over the throne, are the baptism of Ethelbert by Dice, Edward III conferring the Order of the Garter on the Black Prince, and the Committel of Prince Henry by J. Gascon by C. W. Cope, R. A. Between the windows are richly decorated niches and canopies which are to have bronze statues in them. In casting the eye round the whole room, it is almost impossible to detect scarcely a square inch which is not either carved or gilded. The ceiling, with its massive gilded and decorated panels, presents a most imposing and gorgeous effect, and one of truly royal splendor. The St. Stephen's Hall is ninety-five feet long, thirty feet wide, and sixty feet high. The roof is stone-groined, springing from clustered columns running up the side of the hall. The bosses at the intersection of the main ribs are carved in high relief, with incidents descriptive of the life of Stephen. This hall leads through a lofty archway into the central hall, which is octagon and plan, having columns at the angles from which spring ribs forming a grand stone groin finishing in the center, with an octagon lantern. The bosses at the intersection of all the ribs elaborately carved. The size of this hall is sixty-eight feet in diameter, and it is sixty feet to the crown of the groin. The House of Commons, which is now in the course of completion, is quite a contrast to the splendor of the House of Lords. Its length is eighty-four feet, width forty-five feet, and height forty-three feet. An oak gallery runs all around the house, supported by posts at intervals, having carved heads and spandrels supporting the main ribs. The Strangers' Gallery is at the south end, in front of which is the Speaker's Order Gallery. At the north end is the Reporters' Gallery, over which is the Ladies' Gallery, being behind a stone screen. The libraries are fine rooms, looking out on the river. I have no time to tell you of the beautiful refreshment rooms, accepting to say that the one for the piers is one hundred feet long. I must not forget to say that in the tower is to be a wondrous clock, the dial of which is to be thirty feet in diameter. We went to see these buildings by an order from the Lord Chamberlain. The total cost is estimated at between eight and ten millions of dollars. It certainly is very rich, and looks finely from the river, but it is unfortunately too near the abbey, and wants force. After leaving the Houses of Parliament, we went to Westminster Hall, which has some of the finest historical recollections connected with any public building in England. Really, I felt more in awe in entering this hall than I ever remember to have experienced. I cannot tell you the size of it, but it is the largest room in Europe without a support, and the span of the roof is the widest known. The roof of Chestnut is exceedingly fine. Only think, my dear fellow, what events have transpired on this spot. The following trials took place here—Staffer, Duke of Buckingham, for High Treason, 1521, Sir Thomas More, 1535, Duke of Somerset, for Treason, 1552, Thomas Howard, Duke of Norfolk, for his attachment to Mary, Queen of Scots, Robert Devereaux, Earl of Essex, 1601, and Earl of Southampton, Guy Fox, and the Gunpowder Plot conspirators, Robert Carr, Earl of Southampton and his Countess, for murder of Sir Thomas Overbury in 1616, Wentworth, Earl of Stratford, 1641, Archbishop Laud, Charles I, for his attacks upon the liberties of the country, 1649, the Seven Bishops in the Reign of James II, Dr. Sack Everill in 1710, in 1716 the Earls Dermontwater, Nithsendale, and Carnworth, and the Lords Whittington, Hanmere, and Narn, for the Rebellion of 1715, Harley, Earl of Oxford, 1717, the Earls Chromarty and Kilmarnock, and Lord Balmarino, 1746, for the Rebellion of 1745, Lord Lovett, 1747, William, Lord Byron, for the death of William Chaworth in a Bloody Duel, 1765, Lord Ferris, for the murder of his steward, the infamous Duchess of Kingston, for Bigamy, 1776, and Warren Hastings, for cruelty in his office as Governor of India, 1788. And besides all this, there have been the coronation feasts of all England's monarchs, from William Rufus, who built it in 1099, down to George IV, in 1820. Sad times and merry ones have been here. We stepped from the hall into the Courts of Law, which have entrances from this apartment, and we saw the Lord Chancellor on the bench in one, and the judges sitting in another. The Courts were small and not very imposing in their appearance. Yours truly, James. Read by Cibella Denton. All LibriVox files are in the public domain. For more information please visit LibriVox.org. Letter 13 of Young Americans Abroad, or Vacation in Europe, travels in England, France, Holland, Belgium, Prussia, and Switzerland, edited by J. O. Choules. Read for LibriVox.org into the public domain. Letter 13. London. Dear Charlie. Oh, we have had a noble treat, and how I longed for your company as we spent hour after hour in the British Museum. The building is very fine, but the inside, that is everything. The entire front is, I think, about 400 feet, and I reckoned 44 columns forming a colonnade. These are 45 feet high. The portico is now receiving magnificent sculpture and relief, and when the hull is finished and the colossal statues surmount the pediment, and the fine iron palisades now erecting are completed, I think the edifice will be among the finest in the world. The entrance hall is most imposing, and the ceiling is richly painted in encaustic. The staircases are very grand, and their sidewalls are encased with red Aberdeen granite, brought to an exquisite polish. To describe the British Museum would be a vain attempt. In the hall are several fine statues. Especially did we admire one of Shakespeare by Robillac, and given by Garrick. We soon found our way to the Nineveh Gallery, and were wide awake to look after the relics of Nineveh dug up by Léard on the banks of the Tigris. Here is a monstrous human head, having bulls, horns, and ears, many fragments of horses' heads, bulls, etc. The colossal figure of the king is very grand, and discovers great art. There is also a fine colossal priest, and the war sculptures are of the deepest interest. Then we went to the Lycian Room. The sculptures here were found at Xanthus in Lycia. These ruins claim a date of five hundred years before Christ. Here are some exquisite fragments of frieze, describing processions, entertainments, sacrifices, and female figures of great beauty. In the Grand Saloon are numerous Roman remains of sculpture. In the Fajalian Saloon are marbles found at the Temple of Apollo near Fajalia in Arcadia in 1814. The Elgin Saloon is devoted to the magnificent marbles taken in 1804 from temples at Athens by the Earl of Elgin, and were purchased by Parliament for thirty-five thousand pounds. They are chiefly ornaments from the Parthenon, a Doric temple built in the time of Pericles, B.C. 450, by Phidias. No one can fail to be impressed with the great beauty of these conceptions. The famous Sijian inscription is written in the most ancient of Greek letters, Bostrophenian-wise. That is, the lines follow each other as oxen turn from one furrow to another in plowing. There are five galleries devoted to natural history, and are named thus. The Botanical Museum, Mamelia Gallery, Eastern Zoological Gallery, Northern Zoological Gallery, and the Mineral Gallery. The specimens and all these are very fine. Nothing can be finer than the Mamelia. The preservation has been perfect, and far surpasses what I have been accustomed to say in museums, where decay seems to be often rotting upon the remains of nature. The Department of Ornithology is wonderful, and I could have enjoyed a whole day in examining the birds of all climates. In conchology the collection is very rich. I do not often get such a gratification as I had among the portraits which are hanging on the walls of these galleries. The very men I had heard so much of and read about were here lifelike, painted by the best artists of their day. I was much pleased with the picture of Mary, Queen of Scots, by Jansen, of Cromwell by Walker, of Queen Elizabeth by Zuccaro, of Charles II by Lely, of Sir Isaac Newton, of Lord Bacon, of Voltaire, of John Gutenberg, and of Archbishop Cranmer. As to the library and the manuscripts, what shall I say? The collection of books is the largest in the kingdom and valuable beyond calculation. It amounts to seven hundred thousand. We looked at illuminated Gospels, Bibles, Missiles, till we were bewildered with the gold and purple splendor, and then we walked from one glass case to another, gazing upon autographs that made us heart-sick when we thought of our juvenile treasures in this line. If I ever did covet anything, it was some old scraps of paper which had the handwriting of Milton, Cromwell, Luther, Malachthon, Erasmus, and along, etc., of such worthies. You know how much we love medals and coins. Well, here we revel to our heart's delight. Country after country has its history here, beautifully illustrated. The museum has two spacious rooms devoted to reading, and the access to these treasures is very liberal. If I could stay in London one year, I should certainly propose to spend three or four months in study and research at the British Museum. Nor do I imagine that it would be lost time. It seems to me that such a place must make scholars, but I know by my own painful recollection that opportunities for improvement are not always valued as they should be. I have been much struck lately with the thought that men of leisure are not the men who do much in literature. It never has been so. Here and there a rich man cultivates his mind, but it is your busy men who leave the mark upon the age. While in the museum we were shown Lord Chief Justice Campbell, the author of the Lives of the Chancellors, etc. He is a working man, if there be one in England, and yet he finds time to elaborate volume upon volume. I feel ashamed when I think how little I have acquired, how very little I know that I might have understood, and what immensely larger acquisitions have been made by those who have never enjoyed half my advantages. There is a boy, only fifteen, who resorts to this museum, and is said to understand its contents better than most of its visitors, and a livery servant, some years ago, used to spend all his hours of leisure here, and wrote some excellent papers upon historical subjects. If I have gained any good by my journey yet, it is the conviction, I feel growing stronger every day, that I must work, that everyone must work, in order to excel. It seems to me that we are an affair way to learn much in our present tour, for every day's excursion becomes a matter of regular study when we come to our journal, which is now kept posted up daily as a thing, of course. We are trying at all events to make ourselves so familiar with the great attractions of London, that in future life we may understand the affairs of the city when we hear of them. Yours affectionately, Weld. End of Letter 13 Read by Cibella Nitten All LibriVox files are in the public domain. For more information, please visit LibriVox.org Letter 14 of Young Americans Abroad Or Vacation in Europe Travels in England, France, Holland, Belgium, Prussia and Switzerland Edited by J.O. Choules Read for LibriVox.org into the public domain Letter 14 London Dear Charlie Ever since we reached London, I have wanted to go to Woolwich, the great naval arsenal and dockyard, because I expected I should obtain a pretty good idea of the power of the British Navy. And then I like to compare such places with our own, and I have often, at Brooklyn Navy Yard, thought how much I should like to see Woolwich. Woolwich is on the Thames, and about ten miles from the city. You can go at any hour by steamer from London Bridge, or take the railway from the Surrey side of the bridge. We were furnished with a ticket of admission from our minister, but unfortunately we came on a day when the yard was closed by order. We were sadly disappointed, but the doorkeeper, a very respectable police officer, told us that our only recourse was to call on the commanding officer, who lived a mile off, and he kindly gave us a policeman as a guide. On our way we met the general on horseback, attended by some other officers. We accosted him and told our case. He seemed sorry but said the yard was closed. As soon as we mentioned that we came from America, he at once gave orders for our admission and was very polite. Indeed, on several occasions we have found that our being from the United States has proved quite a passport. We had a special government order to go over all the workshops and see the steam power, etc. I think I shall not soon forget the wonderful smithery where the Naismith Hammers' artwork employed in forging chain capels and all sorts of ironwork for the men of war. We went in succession through the foundries for iron and brass, the steam boiler manufactory, and saw the planing machines and lathes, and, as to all the other shops and factories, I can only say that the yard looked like a city. We were much pleased with the ships now in progress. One was the screw steamer, the Agamemnon, to have eighty guns. There, too, is the Royal Albert, of one hundred and twenty guns, which they call the largest ship in the world. Of course we think this doubtful. It has been nine years in progress and will not be finished for three more. It is to be launched when the Prince of Wales attains the rank of post-captain. We saw, among many other curiosities, the boat in which Sir John Ross was out twenty-seven days in the ice. We went into an immense building devoted to military stores, and in one room we saw the entire accoutrement for ten thousand cavalry, including bridles, saddles, and stirrups, holsters, etc. The yard is a very large affair, containing very many acres. It is the depository of the cannon belonging to the army and navy for all the region, and there were more than twenty thousand pieces lying upon the ground, and they were of all varieties known in war. After a delightful hour spent in listening to the best martial music I ever heard played by the band, we took steamboat for Greenwich, and landing there, walked to Blackheath, where we had an engagement to dine at Lee Grove with a London merchant. Here we had a fine opportunity to witness the luxury and elegance of English social life. This gentleman, now in the decline of life, has an exquisitely beautiful place, situated in a park of some sixty acres. The railroad has been run through his estate, and of course has made it very much more valuable for building, but as it injures the park for the embellishments of the mansion it was a fair subject for damages, and the jury of reference gave its proprietor the petty verdict of eleven thousand pounds. At the table we had the finest dessert which the hot-house can furnish. Our host gave us a very interesting account of his travels in America more than forty years ago. A journey from New York to Niagara, as related by this traveler, was then far more of an undertaking than a journey from New Orleans to New York, and a voyage thence to England at the present time. In the evening we took the cars for London and reached our comfortable hotel, the Golden Cross, Charing Cross, at eleven o'clock. By the way, we are all very much pleased with the house and its landlord. Mr. Gardner is a very gentlemanly man, a fine address and acquirements. He has been a most extensive traveler in almost every part of the world, and has a fine collection of paintings, and one of the prettiest cabinets of coins and metals I ever saw. He has a pretty cottage and hot-houses four or five miles from the city, and his family resides partly there and at the hotel. The hotel is everything that can be desired. A few evenings ago Mr. Lawrence had a splendid soirée. There were probably from two to three hundred present. Among the company were Sir David Brewster, Leslie the artist, Miss Coots, the Duke of Wellington. The Duke, as he is called, is the great man of England. All the people idolise him and he is known to be a great man. He has become more identified with the history of England for the last forty years than any other man. Of course he was to us Americans the great man of the country. Whenever I have read of Napoleon I have had Wellington in my eye, and to see him was next to seeing the Emperor. I never expected the pleasure, but here it is allotted me. He is quite an old man in his bearing and gait. He was dressed in a blue coat with metal buttons, wore his star and garter, and had on black tights and shoes. He had been to the opera and then came to this party. Everyone pays the most differential homage to the old hero. Waterloo and its eventful scenes came directly before me, and I felt almost impatient for our visit to the battlefield. A gentleman who knows the Duke told us that he spends from four to five hours every morning at the horse-guards in the performance of his duties as Commander-in-Chief. Although he looks so feeble in the drawing room he sits finally on his horse, and when I saw him riding down Piccadilly he seemed to be full twenty years younger than he was the day before at the party. We shall always be glad that we came to England in time to see the Duke, and if we live twenty or thirty years it will be pleasant to say, I have seen the Duke of Wellington. Yours affectionately, George.