Edf,o5-6- /$£&_ This book was digitized by Microsoft Corporation in cooperation with Yale University Library, 2008. You may not reproduce this digitized copy of the book for any purpose other than for scholarship, research, educational, or, in limited quantity, personal use. You may not distribute or provide access to this digitized copy (or modified or partial versions of it) for commercial purposes. TRAVELS IN FRANCE BRITISH ISLANDS. BY THE EEV. M. FLOYD. 'll HATE SEEN SOMETHING OF THE WORLD AND YET HATE NOT BEEN SEEN.' PHILADELPHIA: J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO. 1859. 'tAK Entered, according to Act of Congress, in tlie year 1858, by the REV. M. FLOYD, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Western District of Pennsylvania. Eif. if 5 5" PREFACE. The following letters are designed to give a brief account of the Writer's peregrinations, during an absence from home of six months, in France and the British Islands. In these times, when between 30,000 and 40,000 of the people of this country annu ally travel in Europe, the subject discussed cannot be altogether uninteresting to those Who prefer, like King David's two hundred men, "to abide by the stuff." Nothing like originality has been aimed at, and therefore there has never been any hesitation, because it has been spoken of by others, to describe a thing worthy of notice. Accuracy, not ori ginality, is what has been sought after. Yet errors have, no doubt, been fallen into. This, indeed, seems unavoidable. In the original letters such statistics as could be obtained were given, those being generally afterwards corrected when copies were about being made for the preBs. It may be remarked that, in relation to places and things, more has been observed, than as to persons or society. This resulted mainly from the causes that, after all, the grand charac- (iii) IV PREFACE. teristics of French or British society are not vastly different from those of American, and therefore to discriminate was not very necessary, and that to say much about them would have taken up too much space. It will only further be said that these traveling epistles would never have been put into the printer's hands, if it had not been that the author has been professionally idle, which has led him to a review of what he had written and put away. December, 1858. C 0 N T E X T S. NO. I. Journey to New York; Taking Passage ; Passengers; Voyage to Havre ; Islands of Ice ; Land Birds far at Sea ; At the Pier. 13 NO. II. Stay in Havre : Anniversary of Napoleon's Death ; Catholic Prayer-meeting, with Soldiers, &c. ; The Citadel ; Sully's Pri son ; Country to Rouen ; Rouen ; Joan of Arc, &c. ; Way to Paris ; Vegetation ; Peculiarity of Houses in France, and of Bedsteads 18 NO. III. Memoirs of Paris ; Drive to Hotel ; Triumphal Column ; Edifice called the Bourse; Palais Royal 25 Streets of Richelieu and Rivoli ; Obelisk of Luxor ; (the spot of the Guillotine;) Place de la Concorde; Emperor's Palace; Place de Carrousel, and its connection with the French Revo lution ; Palais of the Louvre ; Its Wonddrful Collections of Antiquities, Paintings, and Curiosities ; N^ar by, the Old Church of St. Germain l'Auxerrois; Its Belfry on the Night of St. Bartholomew 30 NO. V. The ElyseVBourbon ; Emperor's Pavilion; The Luxembourg; The Senate Chamber; Hotel de Petit; Ney shot close by; French Legislative Hall; Imperial Library; Hannibal's Shield ; One of the First Books Printed ; Coin of Romulus, &c. 40 NO. VI. Drive from Place de la Bourse to Industrial Palace and thence, &c. ; General of the Imperial Guard, and Guard ; Artesian Well of Grenelle ; Return to the Industrial Palace ; Emperor and Empress ; Cortege, Civil and Military ; Visit, on next day, to Interior of Palace; Rain 47 1* (v) CONTENTS. NO. VII. Visit to several celebrated Places on Miscellaneous Occasions; The Hotel des Invalids ; Its Old Soldiers ; The Waking of a Veteran; Turenne's Grave; De Vauban's ; Napoleon's; St. Arnaud's; Cannon, &c. ; The Hotel de Ville; The Place de Greve ; (where a famous Guillotine, &c. ;) Julian's Baths ; (Fragment of. an old Roman Palace;) The Sorbonne; The Garden of Plants ; Cedar of Lebanon ; New Hotel 56 NO. VIII. Proper soon to close Notes on Paris; Burial-places; Abelard; Places in the Environs of Paris, &c 64 NO. IX. Visits to Churches ; French Catholic Church-going ; The Made leine ; The Pantheon ; Notre Dame ; Pope's Robes ; Protestant Churches; French Sabbaths ; a Protestant Sermon 70 NO. X. Wood of Boulogne; Wellington's Army; Dueling; Military Events, &c. ; Labienus; Normans; English; The Fronde; Revolution of 1789; Russians and Prussians; British and Prussians; Revolutions of 1830 and 1848; Coup d'Etat; For tifications 80 m Na XL Departure from Paris ; Female Ticket Agent ; The Road through the Cordon of Fortifications ; Amiens and River Somme ; Abbeville ; Battle of Crecy ; Boulogne ; Hotel kept by a New Yorker; Caligula and Army ; Claudius; Constantius Chlorus ; Atilla; Normans; Napoleon I., Camp, and Flotilia; Scheme of Invasion ; Napoleon III., &c. ; Old and New Towns ; Squares ; English Schools and Churches ; Napoleon Column ; Camp of 40,000 men ; (visit to;) French Farming 86 NO. XII. Passage to England ; Intercourse Between France and England ; Folkstone ; Romney Marsh ; Farming ; Hop-raising ; Appear ance of Country; View of Sydenham Crystal Palace; Hotel in London 94 NO. XIII. Extent of London to the New-comer ; Crowding in some Streets ; Traveling on the River; First Historical Notice of; Saxon Capital ; Charters ; Boat on Thames ; Tunnel ; Excursion up to, &c S7 CONTENTS. Vll NO. XIV. PAGE Visit to St. Paul's; View of it; Monuments; Wellington and Nelson; Ascent of Dome; Size; Architect; Bell; Westmin ster Abbey ; Size ; Age ; Internal Aspect ; Painted Windows ; Chapels; Westminster Assembly; Royal Vaults; Stone of Scone ; Celebrated Graves of Philosophers, Poets, Scholars, and Statesmen ; Evening Religious Service 103 NO. XV. Situation of the Tower ; Portcullis ; Bloody Tower ; White Tow er ; Council-room of the Old Kings ; Raleigh's Prison ; Eques trian Figures in Mail Armor ; Royal Insignia ; The Tower as a Stronghold ; Its Ancient Royal Palace ; Once a Prison ; King Baliol ; Wallace ; Bruce ; John of France, &c. ; Collec tions of Armor ; Heading-Block and Ax ; St. Peter's ; The Dead in its Vaults 113 NO. XVI. Churches in London; Service in St. Saviour's ; St. Giles' s-in-the- Fields; Presbyterian Church and Dr. Cumming ; Royal Chapel of Whitehall; (Sermon in;) St. Giles's, Cripplegate ; Grave of Milton ; Surry Chapel ; Divine Service at Lambeth ; Exeter Hall; Desire to Visit the Church of the Crusaders 123 NO. XVII. Visit to the British Museum ; Where Located ; Its Antiquities ; Grecian; Italian; Roman; Old British; Ninevite; Obelisk; Rosetta Stone ; Mummies ; Elgin Marbles ; Phigalean Mar bles ; Columns from the Mausoleum ; Etruscan Vases ; Terra- Cottas ; Portland Vase, &c. ; Irish Arrow-heads ; Skene ; The Great Charter ; Library ; Ninevite Sculptures ; Pannels of Alabaster ; Bronze Dishes 2500 Years of Age ; Roman Mosaic ; Altars ; Votive Tablets ; Miniatures of British Cromlechs ; Objects from the Field of Nature, &c. ; Visit to Crystal Pa lace ; Town of Sydenham ; Dermody ; Campbell ; Railroad ; Entrance by Colonnade ; Extent of Grounds ; Of Palace ; All Glass; At the Heat of Madeira; Egyptian Temple, &c. ; Assy rian Architecture ; Greek Agora; Parthenon; Roman Forum; Coliseum, &c. ; Pompeian House ; Casts of Sculptures ; Por trait Gallery ; Orange-Trees ; Palms ; Date-palms ; Olive- Trees ; Pomegranates ; Machinery ; Musical Band ; Park and Gardens: Plant 3000 Years Old 134 NO. XVIII. Journey to, &c. ; Staines; Egham; Independent Chapel; Preaching ; Runnimede ; Magna Charta Islet ; 640 Years Ago; Old Windsor; Home Park; Windsor Castle; Hotel; Town ; Eton ; Stroll in Castle ; Worship on Sabbath ; Wol- sey's Tomb-house ; Gardens; Parks; Windsor Forest; Stoke Poge's Churchyard ; Gray; The Penns 152 viii CONTENTS. TSf 0. XIX. PAOE Bank of England ; Exchange ; Mansion House ; Horse Guards ; Admiralty ; Blue Coat School ; Some Leading Streets, as Pic cadilly, &c. ; Smithfield; Tournament; Joust; Euston Sta tion; Inventor of the Locomotive 162 NO. XX. Tickets for Parliament; Westminster Hall; Coronation Feasts; State Trials; New Parliament Houses; Capitol in Washing ton; House of Commons ; Debates; Speakers; Briefness; Newspaper Reports; Young Speakers; Dining; House of Lords ; Debates ; Speakers ; Bishops ; Lords as a Court of Law ; Forensic Eloquence ; Audience Chambers ; Size and Shape ; Ladies' Gallery ; Dignity of Deportment ; Dispatch of Business ; The Over-talking of the French Legislature ; Criti cisms on Several Speakers, as Graham, Bright, Russell, Pal- merston, D'Israeli, Lyndhurst, the Bishop of Chester, Camp bell, Brougham ; No Lobby Crowding ; Unpleasant Adventure. 109 NO. XXI. Journey to Bangor ; Towns on Railroad ; Cars ; Chester ; Inn in Bangor ; The Town ; Inhabitants are, &c. ; Excursion to Penrhyn Slate Quarries ; Island of Anglesea ; Wire Suspension Bridge ; Tubular Bridge ; Description : Historical Associa tions; Roman Slab; Beaumaris 190 NO. XXII. Journey to Dublin ; Sea-sickness; Kingston; In Dublin ; Hotel in Westland Row ; Going to Church ; Description of City ; History ; Phenix Park ; Vice-Regal Lodge ; Deer ; Law Courts ; University, &c....'. 201 NO. XXIII. Christ Church; St. Patrick's; Presbyterian Churches; Glass- nevin; O'Cohnell; Curran; Circular Road ; Clontarf; Extract from Gray 209 NO. XXIV. Journey to Belfast ; Mud-Houses ; Drogheda ; Dundalk ; Belfast ; Prosperity; Queen's College; Dr. Cooke; Dr. Montgomery; Dr. McCosh 21S NO. XXV. Voyage to Derry; Fog; Derry; Journey to Swilly Bay; Ap pearance of Country ; Bay; Reminiscences, &c. ; Americans.. 225 CONTENTS. IX NO. XXVI. PAGE Voyage to Glasgow: Beacon-lights; Short Stay at Greenock; Mouth of the Clyde; Glasgow; Broomielaw; Railroads to Edinburgh ; Edinburgh ; Scene in Prince's Street ; General Description of the City ; Society ; Population ; Castle ; Sol diery ; No Music; Holyrood; Its Chapel; Royal Burial Vaults ; &c. ; More Ancient Scottish Palaces ; Old Parliament House ; Wodrow's Remark ; University ; Assembly Hall of the Esta blished Church ; Knox's House; Spot of Martyrdom 282 NO. XXVII. Continuation of, &c. ; Halls of Paintings ; Midsummer Night's Dream; Monuments; Calton Hill; Old London Road; Fine Prospect; Visit to Arthur's Seat; St. Anthony's Well and Chapel ; View from Summit of, &c. ; Prince Arthur ; Excur sion to Leith ; Pier ; Excursion to Stirling ; Granton ; Kirk caldy; Inverkeithing; Alloa; Windings of the Forth; Stirling; Church ; Castle ; Its Antiquity ; Prospect ; Field of Cambus- kenneth ; Wallace; Bannockburn; Bruce; Departure from Stirling; The* Religious Services in Several Churches; Dr. Clark; Dr. McCrie; Dr. Candlish; St. Giles's and Dr. MoClatchie, &c 247 NO. XXVIII. Departur'e from Edinburgh; Railroads and Country between Edinburgh and Glasgow ; Glasgow ; Clyde ; Streets, &c. ; Monuments ; Noble Cathedral ; The University ; Its Museum ; •Ex-President Fillmore; Annals of the City; Departure for Ireland ; Dunglass and Dumbarton Castles ; The River Lag- gan ; Belfast ; Excursion to Carrickfergus ; Its Castle ; An nals of the Town; Ancient Earls of Ulster; Sieges; Rise of Irish Presbyterianism ; Return to Belfast; Antrim; One of the Mysterious Round Towers ; Castles ; John Howe and Gowan ; Battle of Antrim ; Ballymena; Ecclesiastical Meeting and Dragoons ; Traveling Companion ; Lough Neagh ; Night in Toome Bridge Village ; Mud-Houses ; Aspect of Country ; Maghera; Round Towers; Aspect of Country ; Carntngher Mountains ; Dungiven ; Aspect of Country ; Faughan Vale ; Derry 263 NO. XXIX. This the Last Letter from Ireland ; The Region on the Bays, the Swilly and the Foyle ; Sise of Donegal County ; Size of Derry County; The Property of the London Societies; Character of the Population; Its Classes; Employments; The Climate; Gloominess when Compared with Southern Skies; Dwellings; Food; Doe-gun; Cromlech; Lough Derg; Ruins of the Pa lace of the Old Princes ; Raths; Ennishowen Castle; Mongev- lin Castle; Castledoe; Red Deer; Towns; Derry, (Account X CONTENTS. PAdfi of,;) Brief Annals of the City; Oolumb of the Churches; Iona; King Duncan; The Rev. Francis McKemy ; Farquhar and Toland ; General Richard Montgomery ; The Hibernian Dalriada ; The Caledonian ; The Scoti ; Their First Seat in the British Islands; History of, &c. ; Days of Paganism ; The Younger Patricius ; The Norsemen ; Invasion of the Munster- men in 1134; De Courcy ; Expedition to Iona; O'Donell at tends Convention, (in 1303,) of the Great Men, &c. ; Protestant Reformation ; Bishop of Raphoe, a Member of the Council of Trent ; Civil War of the Three Provinces against the Vice- Regal Government ; Subsequently, a Plot ; Forfeitures and Plantation; Protestantism; Wars of 1641; Wars of the Bri tish Revolution; Siege of Derry; Volunteers; United Irish men ; Opening of Correspondence, &c. ; Main Political Griev ances; Death of Hoche; General Daendels ; General Bona parte; General Humbert; James Napper Tandy ; Commodore Bomparte's Fleet; Military Force under General Hardy ; Bat tle of Torry Island; Theobald W. Tone; Ambushes; Union; Tandy Seized in Hamburg, &c. ; United Men again Canvassed as to, &c. ; Peace of Amiens ; Renewal of War between Eng land and France ; Revival, once more, of Correspondence with France, through. the United States; Jerome Bonaparte in America ; His Marriage ; Admission into a French Port, re fused to his Wife ; Himself Blockaded in New York; Reaches France ; Close of the Projects of the United Irishmen ; Dis satisfaction continues; Batteries; Cruisers; A Camp; Loss of the Saldanha Frigate 28? NO. XXX. Last Letter from British Soil ; Voyage to Liverpool from Derry ; Shores of the Ocean ; The Giant's Causeway ; Rathlin Island Laid Waste by the Norsemen ; Robert Bruce; Night; Estuary of the Mersey; Bell-buoy; Taking Passage; The Liverpool Docks; Streets; St. George's Hall ; Sailors' Home ; TheCus- tom-House; The Exchange and Town-Hall; Nelson's Monu ment; Complete News-room; Museum of the Royal Institu tion; The Supply of Water to the Town; Dr. McNeil's Church j His Preaching ; Prince's Park ; Congregation of Dr. Raffles ; Increase of Liverpool; Excursion to Chester; Bridges in Chester ; Its Old Wall ; Battle on Waverton Heath ; Streets ; The Abbey and Cathedral; Saxon Arch 1100 Years Old) Coffin of Hugh Lupus ; Trinity Church ; Matthew Henry and Parnel ; A Roman Station ; Altar ; Return to Liverpool ; Ship board ; Firing of Batteries ; About to Sail ...;.... 325 NO. XXXI. Now in New York ; Detained ; Occupied in Writing out, &c. ; Tugged from Liverpool Docks to Sea by, &c. ; Head Winds ; A Mountain in Kerry the Last, &c. ; Course ; Brief Hurri- CONTENTS. XI PAGE cane; A Severe Gale ; A Death; Average Headway per Day ; Gulf Stream; Bank of Newfoundland ; Sea- Weed; The Petrel; The Hagnel ; Porpoises ; A Black Fish ; Young Whales ; A Shark; Company; Preaching; Sunset; Pilot-Boat; Light house Light Visible ; Into New York Bay ; Voyage up ; Re trospect ; French Agriculture ; Forests ; English Agriculture ; Woods ; Horses and Cattle ; Crops ; Cobbet and Maize ; Draining ; Fenoes ; Homesteads of the Wealthy ; Scotch Agri culture ; Farms too Large ; Irish Agrioulture ; Central Plateau of Ireland ; The Proportion of Crops Relatively to, &o. ; Im provement; Life, Property, and Reputation; (Security as to;) Morals and Religion in France ; Catholioism ; Protestantism ; Morals and Religion in England ; Defects ; Established Church of England ; Its Parties ; Dissenters ; Morals and Religion in Scotland ; Religious Denominations ; Morals and Religion in Ireland ; Temperance in, &c. ; Religious Denominations ; Their States, &c. ; Concluding of, &o 339 TRAVELS IN FRANCE AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. \^ NO. I. Journey to New York — Taking Passage — Passengers — Voyage to Havre — Islands of Ice — Land Birds far at Sea — At the Pier. Havre, May 5, 1855. I write to let you know my course of travel since I left home, up till to-day, when I arrived in this city. You will recollect I left home on the morning of Wedaesday, the 18th of April; and that night, about midnight, I arrived in Phila delphia. Upon getting thither I directed the driver of a cab to take me to a certain hotel ; but, in the exercise of his own discretion, he took me to a different place altogether, though one sufficiently comfortable. Persons going into a strange city should be on their guard against such things, as they often lead to unpleasant results. In Philadelphia I - found I could not get a ship very soon, and therefore resolved to go to New York ; in which city I arrived on Friday, the 20th, at about two o'clock p.m. There, there were two steamers to leave for Europe the next day at twelve o'clock — one for Southampton and the otherfor Havre ; and, being determined to go in one of these, the passage-money being the same in both, I concluded to go to Havre in the North Star, which is reckoned to be a fast ship, while the other, which was heavily laden, is said to be much slower. So, having obtained a passport, and attended to other necessary preparations, at the expense of a very tho- ough drenching, I sailed at about half-past one o'clock on 1 13 14 TRAVELS IN FRANCE Saturday, the 21st of April. I would have sailed for Liver pool if a boat had been immediately sailing to that port ; but, this not being the case, I thought I might as well pay my bill in a hotel in France, and see that country, as pay at one in New York. Also, this was only reversing the order of my journey; as I had resolved when leaving home to visit, at all events, France before my return. We had, if I made a correct estimate, aboutone hundred and twenty or thirty passengers ; more than half being French, and the remainder being Germans, Belgians, Mexicans, Cubans, Chilians, Mar- tiniqueans, and Jews. There were also six or seven Ame ricans and one Englishman. One of the passengers was a German Catholic priest. When our vessel was about clear ing herself of the wharf, the crowd of New York French, assembled to bid their friends good-bye, was quite large. And then, what waving of handkerchiefs and cheers ! while the crew, meanwhile, fired off from their small pieces of artil lery several volleys. The forming of an acquaintance with several of the pas sengers assisted greatly in making the voyage pleasant. I had much agreeable chit-chat and a good deal of conversa tion on grave subjects with a number of them. Among these I may name the priest (a mild and companionable man,) a young New Yorker (a correspondent of one of the New York newspapers,) a Baltimorean (who has latterly for many years been a resident in Cuba — a man speaking French, Spanish, and Italian, as if each of these were his vernacular,) a young Cuban going to Europe for an education, a Mexi can on his way to Paris in company with his daughter, an other Mexican on his way to Rome along with his newly married wife, and a Prussian-Pole from the neighbor hood of the line separating Prussia and Russia. But per haps there was no person with whom I talked so much as with Mr. V., the late Begian Consul in Havana. This man I found exceedingly intelligent, conversable, and reasonable. He had his wife and family along, being on his way to Europe to educate his children. I also became very well acquainted with a young French officer, a native of Nantes, on his way home. He had been engaged in fighting against the barri cades in Paris ; and gave me accounts of some of the military events connected with the late struggles in that capital. I also became quite intimate with a family from the Island of Mar- AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 15 tinique. In the company of the persons enumerated, and of others, time passed rapidly away; talking of Cuba and its annexation to the United States — annexation being quite an unpleasant idea to the Cubans ; — and hearing of the bravery of Molin de St. Yon, in his white waistcoat and citi zen's dress, with a small cane in his hand, and how, without those whom he led knowing who he was, he led the soldiery at a run over several successive barricades, only allowing them to stop long enough between the successive advances barely to recover breath. On these subjects, and also with respect to the political merits of Protestantism and of Catho licism, respectively, did we frequently converse. I kept an account of the voyage, so that H and S. might trace it on the map ; which I request you to tell them to do, and, besides, when I get home, we can all trace it in com pany. I said we left New York at half-past twelve o'clock of Saturday, the 21st of April, and on the next day, Sunday, at twelve o'clock, (at which time of the day a captain at sea makes his observations,) we had run 243 miles; being in 40° 49' N. lat. and 69° 08' long. W. from Greenwich. The reck onings on each subsequent day, (at twelve,) were as follows : On Monday, in lat. 41° W N. and long. 63° 15' W.; the distance run, during the 24 hours, being 273 miles. On Tuesday, in lat. 43° 25' and long. 57° 48'; the dis tance run being 262 miles. On Wednesday, in lat. 44° 36' and long. 51° 47'; the dis tance run being 269 miles. On Thursday, in lat. 45° 51' and long. 46° 38'; the dis tance run being 231 miles. On Friday, in lat. 47° 14' and long. 41° 55'; the distance run being 219 miles. On Saturday, in lat. 48° 3' and long. 36° 21'; the distance run being 244 miles. Ou Sunday, in lat. 50° 6' and long. 29° 56'; the distance run being 261 miles. On Monday, in lat. 50° 18' and long 23° 10'; the distance run being 260 miles. On Tuesday, in lat. 49° 49' and long. 17° 1'; the distance run being 239 miles. On Wednesday, in lat. 49° 21' and long. 13°; the distance run being 156 miles. 16 TRAVELS IN FRANCE On Thursday, in lat. 49° 30' and long. 7° 21'; the distance run being 218 miles. On Friday, in lat. 50° and long. 2° 8'; the distance run being 203 miles. And on Saturday, (May 5th,) at one o'clock p.m., at the pier in this city ; having run, on account of a high head-wind, since the observation on Friday, only 88 miles. Thus our voyage, as to time, has extended to fourteen days, and in that time we have run 2631 miles. The incidents of our journey on the deep were not nume rous, but some things may deserve a passing notice. On Thursday, the 26th of April, at about eleven o'clock a.m., we had a fine view of an island of ice, coldly glittering with a bright radiance. It was about one-half mile across, each way, and drifted past us at the distance of a quarter or a half mile. In the afternoon, two smaller cakes floated by. The large cake stood about thirty feet above the water, and, ac cording to the weight of ice relatively to sea-water, the sub merged portion must have been from six to eight times more considerable in its thickness than the part emergent. Of course, the presence of ice renders the air very cold. After this occurrence, not anything turned up to break the mono tony of our voyage till about the middle of the afternoon of Monday, the 30tb, when a gale from the east began to blow. This gale continued for about thirty-three hours, tearing our jib to pieces about four o'clock of the morning of Tuesday. Again, on the morning of Wednesday, the 2d of May, at ten o'clock, a widgeon, blown off by the late storm, alighted on the ship and was caught. A couple of hours afterwards, a small bird, taking refuge in our vessel was caught, and in the afternoon a swallow, also seeking refuge, was seized. These birds must have flown, in a straight line, two hundred and fifty miles, to have reached us from the nearest land, the southern point of Ireland ; and, if they came from England, they must have traveled, by the most direct path, three hun dred and fifty miles ; while the nearest point of France was distant from us, where they reached us, three hundred and seventy miles. That the seemingly helpless little bird, that was the second to rest on our boat, should be able to sustain itself for so great a distance over the dreary and stormy At lantic, and especially through the darkness of the night, is truly a marvel. Yet well-established facts teach us that the AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 17 wing of birds has accomplished things vastly more extraor dinary. Thus a land-rail has been killed in the Bermudas ; and, as this bird does not inhabit the Western Continent, it must have flown all the way over the Atlantic on the wings of some storm. Also, it is unquestionable that one of the two pidgeons let loose on October 6th or 7th, 1850, by Sir John Ross, at Assistant Bay, to the west of Wellington Sound, in Arctic America, reached, by the 13th of the month named, the dove-cot in Ayrshire, in Scotland, from which they had been taken, betaking itself, after its long flight, to the very niche in which it had been hatched. Before such aerial feats the flight of our little visitors sink into insignifi cance. Yet no one could look at the little panting thing and fail to wonder how it could accomplish so much. Agaiu, the first glimpse of land, after a voyage over the Atlantic, is worth chronicling. We had, on Thursday, the 10th, just at dark, a clear view of the Lizzard Point, with its two fixed lights, the extreme southern point of England ; and on the next day, at eleven o'clock, a.m., we had a sight of Cape Barfleur, the first portion of the land for which we were bound on which we were permitted to look. On the night after passing Cape Barfleur, we were, as it seemed to me, on the point of running down a fishing-boat. She lay directly in our pathway, and we were hurrying on her with all the rapidity of steam, when the fishermen, becoming conscious of their clanger, suddenly raised one of the peculiar lights carried by them in those waters, which for a moment blaze, like a huge flambeau, and then expire; and thus our helmsman avoided her. Only two other incidents will I speak of. On Sunday, the 29th of April, we had public worship. I my self preached, the Catholic priest, though I expressed all readiness to give way to him, declining. Both the attend ance and the attention were very good. The other incident that I will speak of is our arrival, to-day, in the estuary of the Seine, and our entrance into this port. I have not yet been enough around this city to say a great deal in relation to it. From what I have seen of it, I feel myself justified in inferring that it is quite thriving. Its population is said to amount to thirty thousand. The har bor is the best in this part of France, and yet it is by no means naturally good. All along this coast northwestern winds prevail, which, carrying the waves upon the shore, 1* 18 TRAVELS IN FRANCE choke up the inlets and the mouths of rivers with sand and mud. And this holds good in relation to Havre as well as to other ports, though in a smaller degree. To obviate in part this inconvenience, as well as for the shelter it affords, a vast pier has been carried far out into the estuary, with a lighthouse at its extreme end. Also a number of basins of great capacity have been excavated, into which, through ca nals, the shipping enters. These canals are furnished with locks and gates, to retain in the basins the water of high tide, (which here rises between 22 and 27 feet,) till low wa ter, when the water which has been clammed up is let out with a rush, to carry the accumulated sand and mud off. These precautionary measures serve to keep the harbor of Havre open. Meanwhile, I am gathering experience as to hotel life in Europe ; taking my meals, as most others do, not at the pub lic hotel table, but by myself. I expect, by Monday, to start for Rouen and Paris. I ought not to conclude this letter without an expression of thankfulness to the Good Being who has carried me safely through the dangers of the deep. Yours, &c, M. F. NO. II. Stay in Havre — Anniversary of Napoleon's Death — Catholic Prayer-meeting, with Sol diers, Ac. — Tho Citadel — Sully's Prison — Country to Rouen — Rouen — Joan of Arc, &c— Way to Paris— Vegetation— Peculiarity of Houses in France, and of Bedsteads. Paris, Eue Joquelet, 11, Place de la Bourse, ) May 9, 1855. j I wrote to you, dating from Havre, though I did not mail my letter till after arriving in this great city, — the capital, in many respects, of the civilized world. In Havre, which is quite a thrifty and fine city, one street especially being quite spacious and handsome, I stayed through the afternoon of Saturday, the day, as I may again mention, of AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 19 my arrival, and during Sunday and the first part of Mon day, having been partly induced to stop to avoid unneces sary traveling on the Sabbath. The day of my arrival happened to be the anniversary of Napoleon's death at St. Helena, — he having died on that island, as you will recollect, between five and six o'clock of the evening of May 5th, 1821,— a day still observed by many of the French as a day of mourning ; so that, on the very evening of my setting foot on land, I had an oppor tunity to attend in the cathedral a Roman Catholic prayer- meeting. The edifice was grand, the singing splendid, the spectacle magnificent, but all was as unlike a meeting for social prayer as could well be conceived. And on the next day, Sabbath, I attended worship in the English chapel, which is Episcopal, in the American, which is Presbyterian, and also in the Catholic cathedral. In the cathedral high mass was celebrated : the aisles were filled with soldiery, two deep, with drums and music ; while the soldiers grounded and raised their muskets, and the drums kept time to the singing of the choristers and the voice of the organ. While in Havre I visited the citadel, — a noble and spacious antique edifice, surrounded by a wall, and broad, deep ditch, filled with water, and containing a large body of soldiers, probably one thousand men. This stronghold is very greatly weakened by age, having, I believe, been built by Richelieu. There is quite an interesting old building in the town, that was once an arsenal. I also was in an old tower in which the celebrated Sully was once a prisoner. The town itself was founded by Louis XII. in 1509, three hundred and forty-six years ago. But, though this is the date of the foun dation of the town, there are many reminiscences connected with the port and bay that are vastly more ancient. In the reign of the Roman emperor Diocletian, when Carausius, the Roman admiral in the British seas, had rebelled, and erected Britain into an independent government, which had come to be acknowledged by the emperor himself, and, when hostilities had broken out afresh, it was from< the bay of Havre that that Roman fleet issued which, during a fog, made its way across to Britain, and made it again submissive. Six hundred years afterwards, that is, sometime about the year 900, it was the same bay that Rollo the Dane, the founder of the Duchy of Normandy, entered, when about 20 TRAVELS IN FRANCE to lead his Norsemen into the very heart of France. Also, a little more than five hundred years after, it was there that Henry V. of England landed his army of thirty-six thou sand men, when about to lay siege to Harfleur, three miles off, and to fight the great battle of Agincourt. Again, in 1562, in the wars of the Huguenots and Catholics, the former. with a view to aid from the English, put Havre, which had now been founded fifty years, into their hands. Since this time, the English, in the wars between them and the French, have twice bombarded it; that is, in 1678 and 1759. I will only further remark, in relation to that place, that toward the close of 1840, it was the theatre of a portion of the funeral honors paid to the great Napoleon when returning from his long banishment in St. Helena to repose himself on the soil of his beloved France. That banishment had lasted twenty-four years, when, after touching at Cherbourg, the exiled chief, the idol of the French soldier's soul, entered, on the 9th of December, with his attendant train, the mouth of the Seine. The corpse stopped at Havre during the night, being thence borne, at sunrise next morning, to Paris, by steamboat on the river. And perhaps no funeral cere mony was ever before celebrated with so much pomp, nor perhaps was there ever before a funeral ocsasion when the sensibilities of so many persons were deeply moved. Having looked around Havre, I proceeded to make my way through the valley of the Seine to Rouen and Paris. And certainly a larger share of quiet beauty is nowhere to be met with in any part of the wide world. The country is improved like a garden ; no hedges nor fences, except haw thorn hedges on each side of the railroad, being anywhere to be met with, but the whole country, mile after mile, lying open like the grand prairies of the great West. The houses, also, are generally good, some of the chateaus being of a superior appearance ; yet there are many straw-thatched buildings, t^ese being thatched and built in an exceedingly rude style. The houses are generally covered with hollow tiles, put on in a way that is at least not very common in America. The fact is, the Seine Valley perhaps surpasses anything I have seen in America in beauty and cultivation, though not in fertility. The only place on the road to Paris of which I will speak is Rouen, at which I made a brief stay. AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 21 This city, which is seventy miles from Paris and forty-five from Havre, is a noble manufacturing city, (being particularly noted for its skill in the fabrication of cotton tissues called Rouenneries,) and contains nearly one hundred thousand persons. It was the capital of the ancient dukes of Nor mandy, a very small fragment of whose old palace there is still standing. Thus to it the kings of England may in some degree look as their original family seat. This city is situated on the right bank of the Seine. It stands within a semicircle of hills, which are cultivated, and which are affirmed to be as fertile as they certainly are pic turesque. Toward the east is a promenade ground, extend ing along the river for two miles, when it becomes merged in the beautiful savanna of Sotteville. A good part of the town is encircled by a street planted with trees, named the Boulevards. The part within this street is the old part of the city, and is made up of narrow streets without side walks, while outside of it the streets are wide. It contains many things to interest the stranger. One cannot look without interest on the fragments of the old palace of the Norman dukes, which, along with the castle of Falaise, about seventy miles to the southwest, was the dwell ing-place of the ancient rulers of Normandy. Also the cathedral is one of the most magnificent of ecclesiastical edifices. Commenced by John of England, surnamed Lack land, the noble pile was not fully completed till a day quite recently. It is very large, and is adorned with a very lofty iron spire, distinguished for the delicacy and elaborateness of the workmanship which it displays. Internally, it is re markable for the loftiness of its pillars, for its sharp Gothic arches, for its beautiful pictures, and for its stained windows. It contains the tombs of several eminent personages. There is the magnificent tomb of Rollo, the first duke of Nor mandy, with himself stretched on it. There was the heart of Richard I. of England, Coeur de Lion, interred, over which a tomb was erected, surrounded with a silver balus trade, that has long since been carried off, having been used to pay a part of the ransom-money of St. Louis when a prisoner in the hands of the Saracens in Egypt. There was the heart of Charles V. interred. There is the tomb of Sieur de la Bieze, seneschal of Normandy more than three hun dred years ago. At his head stands his widow, Diana of 22 TRAVELS IN FRANCE Poitiers, the favorite and brilliant star of the court of Henry II. ; while at his feet is the Virgin, with her infant Son, the Saviour of the world. Again, the church of the ancient abbey of St. Ouen is worthy of a visit. It is regarded as a very fine piece of architecture. Its nave is remarkable for its elegance and magnificence, and its pilasters, seemingly so fragile as to be unable to support the burden resting upon them, have always been greatly admired. Again, the visitor will be taken by his guide to the old St. Maclou Church, whose old door, executed by the French sculptor Jean Gou- jon, who also executed many works at the Louvre, are wor thy of inspection. Again, be will be taken to the Hotel Bourgtherolde, built about 1500, and which was afterwards ornamented by a bas-relief representing the Field of the Cloth of Gold, and the meeting, in 1520, of Francis I. of France, and Henry VIII. of England, — a bas-relief greatly and deservedly celebrated, but which can now, in consequence of dilapidation and decay, be said only to be seen in copies. Again, he will have pointed out to him, in the humble posi tion of the threshold-stone of a house, a plain slab of black marble, which, at Jumieges, once covered the mortal remains of the person that stirred up the French monarch, Henry VII., to the expulsion of the English from France ; I speak of Ann Sorel, that monarch's beautiful favorite, and the instigator of the great revolution referred to. Nor can the visitor to Rouen leave it without walking round to the old market-place where, in 1431, Jeanne d'Arc, the noblest enthusiast mentioned in history, was burned. This girl, a native of the village of Domremy, on the banks of the Meuse, filled partly with an ardor at once patriotic and loyal, and partly with religious enthusiasm, was the agent by whom, when the French soldiery had become en tirely desponding and abject in spirit, was enkindled a spirit of military boldness and enterprise, which, in spite of the death of the heroine who kindled it, finally saved Ff'ance. After performing miracles of valor, she finally fell into the hands of the English, at their instigation was tried by her own mercenary countrymen as a sorceress and a person hav ing intercourse with infernal spirits, and was condemned. . And on the spot where her statue stands she was burned at the stake, while her ashes were thrown in the river. On the statue is her coat of arms, she having been ennobled ; and underneath this, an inscription in two Latin verses. AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 23 Rouen has produced several eminent French writers. In it were born Corneille and Fontenelle. In it was born Peter Francis Guyot des Fontaines, known as a most caustic writer. In it, also, first saw the light, Mary Ann le Page Dubocage, a lady who distinguished herself by being the translator, into French, of Pope's Temple of Fame and of Milton's Paradise Lost, and by being the author of the Columbiad, a poem on the discovery of America. Nor can I drop the subject of my stopping at Rouen without saying a word in relation to some ofthe events that have occurred in connection with its past. In Roman times, it was the capital of Lugdumensis Secunda. After Roman power had been destroyed, it became subject to the Franks. Its main importance, however, dates from the time of Rollo, the first duke of Normandy, who established himself there about nine hundred and fifty years ago. It was there that that leader had his chief headquarters when carrying on his thirty years' war with the French monarchy. It was there, when peace was concluded, that he was baptized, and that he mar ried Giselle, the lovely daughter of Charles the Simple. It was in it that William the Conqueror, the seventh duke of Normandy, was when he received the tidings of the death of his cousin, Edward the Confessor, and of the coronation of Harold, (a man unrelated to the Saxon kings,) as King of England ; and it was in it that he determined on the inva sion of England. It was at the Abbey of St. Gervais, near it, that, in 1087, he died. It was in its tower that Prince Arthur, the grandson of Henry II. of England, and, pro ceeding by the rule of primogeniture, rightful heir to the throne of that kingdom, was put to death. Next, it was taken by Henry V. of England, in 1418, who also mastered, at the same time, all Normandy. Next, in the civil wars of the Catholics and Huguenots, we find it in the occupation of the latter, when, in 1562, the Catholics took it by storm, and pillaged it with ferocious severity. Next, in 1572, during the St. Bartholomew slaughter, six thousand Hugue nots wereput to death. And lately, in December, 1840, a part of the grand funeral honors paid by Louis Philippe's government to the remains of the first French emperor, was paid by it at the city with regard to which I am writing. I will further say of Rouen, that during all of dayligbt that I passed at that city my mind and attention were unin- interruptedly occupied, and that fully. 24 TRAVELS IN FRANCE The country between Rouen and this city is excellent and beautiful. As one passes along by railroad, successive scenes of loveliness rise upon the vision with the utmost rapidity. Along the road lie many vineyards, several chateaus, and, among these, one owned, or that had been owned, by the late king, Louis Philippe. With respect to this part of my journey you must excuse my brevity, on the ground that I have already written so much. Suffice it to say that soon I reached Paris, and was at the hotel from which I write. Before concluding, I will say a few things relating to more familiar matters than those of which I have been speaking. When I landed on French soil on the 5th of May, everything was exceedingly backward, vegetation ap pearing to be only commencing ; but, as I advanced up the Seine, the appearance of things altered, and a few warm days brought in spring in reality. This state of things, when compared with the weather usual at the same season in the Middle States of the United States, seemed to corre spond very poorly with the stories that all have heard so often about the sunny clime of France. The spring of this year, however, has been an exception to all general rules. Again, as to the dwelling-houses, their floors are seldom of wood, but, instead, are covered with tiles or brick, and, ex cept in some apartment of state in a chateau or palace, uncarpeted. Again, the curtains are put on the bedsteads differently from our way. There is, in the wall, just at the middle of the bedstead, a spike with a large eye in it, this eye being perpendicular to the floor ; then a staff of wood, with an iron spike on the end of it to fit into the eye of the spike in the wall ; and this staff, at its other end, is suspended to a hook in a staple in the ceiling. Besides, the head and foot boards of the bedstead are, both of them, very high. Now, over these boards, and over the staff spoken of, the curtains pass. The plan is a simple and convenient one. Yours, &c, M. F. P. S. — It may interest you to know that the hotel from which I write this letter was occupied by Sir Walter Scott, when here collecting materials for his life of Napoleon. In deed, it is probable he occupied the very room I occupy. I do not mean that the room is any better on that account, yet the association is an agreeable one. AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 25 NO. III. Memoirs of Paris — Drive to Hotel — Triumphal Column — Edifice called the Bourse- Palais Royal. Paris, May, 1 855. I write this letter to state that I am well, and to give some account of things that I have seen during my brief sojourn in this place. Perhaps it may not be amiss if I give you something of a general account of Paris itself. Everybody is aware that it is an exceedingly ancient city. When I say this I do not mean that it is to be compared in this respect with Rome or Alexandria, much less with Jerusalem, and especially with the most ancient Damascus ; but its antiquity, when it is compared with most of the cities now in existence, is very great. It is, so far as I am aware, first mentioned by Julius Csesar, in whose time it was named Lutetia Parisiorum, then being a small and rudely built town, lying in one of the isles in the Seine. His lieutenant, Labrienus, attacked it; and the inhabitants having abandoned it, and retired to a brief distance, the Roman commander pertinaciously followed and defeated them. This battle is supposed to have been fought at Meudon, two leagues southwest of the city. The town, which had been destroyed, was soon rebuilt by Caesar, and a company of merchants, with the exclusive privilege of navi gating the Seine, was established. Subsequently it became very prosperous, and was selected as the seat of the Prefect of Gaul, for whom a palace was erected on its western side. We learn that it was visited by the emperors Constantine and Constance ; and Julian, a fragment of whose palace is still standing, made it his residence during two or three win ters before his being raised to the purple. In his time it still had its main locality in the island of the river on which it had been originally built, being accessible by two wooden bridges ; while a forest clothed the north bank of the river, and on its south bank were houses, the palace, baths, the amphitheatre, the aqueduct, and the Field of Mars. Subse- 2 26 TRAVELS IN FRANCE quently to the days of Julian, Valentinian issued decrees from Paris. And it was under the walls of the city in which I am writing that Gratian was abandoned by his troops in their preference for Maximus, thus here losing the empire of the western world. I may here remark that it took the name of Paris about the end of Julian's reign, (about 365,) and that, when it was captured by the Franks, they confirmed to it this now cele brated appellation. And, after awhile, Clovis, (487-511,) the first Christian King of France, made it the national capital. Its history, during the greater part of the time from the days of Clovis to the present day, is an epitome of the his tory of the French people. Indeed, with the exception of Charlemagne, who, it is said, never came to Paris, and who only occasionally held his courts at St. Denis, five miles to the north of it, and with the exception of his immediate suc cessors, this is the literal fact. In 845, 856, and 872, it was ravaged by the Normans ; and again, in 885, they attacked it when Count Eudes, the grandfather of Hugh Capj3t, and the ancestor of the Capetian race of kings, raised the siege. The important parts acted by it in the wars of the League, (1576-1595,) in the disturbances of the Fronde, (1648- 1654,) in the great revolution of 1789, and in the two revo lutions since, (of 1830-1848,) are known to all the world. Also, every one is familiar with Cavaignac*s Battle of the Barricades, (of June, 1848,) with the history of the coup d'etat of Louis Napoleon, (December, 1851.) At present the garrison amounts to about forty thousand men. I need not write to you that Paris is a great, — it is also a beautiful and splendid city ; distinctions which it owes, among other persons, to Philip Augustus, Henry IV., Louis XIV., and Napoleon, the first emperor. It is well paved, well lighted, with spacious streets kept, many of them, as clean as a palace, and contains a population far exceeding a mil lion, and perhaps exceeding twelve hundred thousand souls. And this population is perhaps the most polished on earth. It is now hard to conceive that pigs once roamed these streets, so that a king (Louis VI.) lost his eldest son by his horse stumbling over one of these animals ; that wolves (300 years after the reign of this Louis) roamed through them, and that even so late as 1600, Henry, Due de Guise, so narrow AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 27 were they, amused himself by ascending the houses and jump ing across from one roof to another. And perhaps it is harder still to think of the people of this great city, now so refined, three hundred, or three hundred and fifty years ago, crowding to Notre Dame after a young woman mounted on an ass and carrying a child in commemoration of the blessed Virgin's flight into Egypt, while, in the religious services of the occasion, instead of the usual responses, the worshiping congregation answered by loud and ever-recurring brayings. What a contrast between the present and the past 1 No city, perhaps, excepting Rome, or, it may be, Athens, abounds to an equal degree in memorials of great events I entered Paris from the northwest ; and it is in the part of the city that lies in this direction that the depot of the Rouen Railroad, by which road I came, is situated. From the depot I was immediately driven in a carriage to the Place de la Bourse, in the neighbourhood of which, as I lately wrote to you, I took up my abode at the hotel known as the Sir Walter Scott Hotel. I may mention that the drive gave me a very favorable impression of Paris, the driver going not by a direct route, but circuitously, through some of the principal streets, and passing by the triumphal column raised by Napoleon, in 1806, in honor of the successes of the French armies, and surmounted by a statue of himself. In the manufacture of this lofty column, which I saw to be hung round the base with innumerable fresh garlands, twelve hundred pieces of cannon were worked up. The statue on the top was destroyed by the victorious allies in 1814, but was subsequently replaced. The streets, by this route, to the spot where I have settled down at present, cannot easily be surpassed for beauty, and some of them for grandeur. You would readily infer, if you had been in this part of Paris, that the first public building which I have had the opportunity of surveying at leisure was the Bourse, or Ex change, from which my hotel is distant only a few doors. This edifice is considered by architectural connoisseurs as a very fine specimen of architecture. It was begun in 1808, during the sway of the great emperor, though not finished till 1826. I was soon walking, after having engaged my room, around the square in which it stands, and could not but admire the size, decorations, and proportions of the beautiful structure. I used to regard the Philadelphia Ex- 28 TRAVELS IN FRANCE change as quite fine, but it falls at an immeasurable distance behind that of Paris, as indeed does everything that I recol lect to have seen in the United States, with the exception of Girard College, and the Capitol in Washington,— edifices, however, that can scarcely be compared with it, on account of their lack of architectural decoration. It is surrounded by an iron railing, and is in shape a rectangle, being 212 feet by 126. Inside the railing is a flight of steps, facing the principal facade, and extending all around the building. When these have been ascended, one reaches a superb colon nade of sixty-four Corinthian columns, extending also around, and forming a covered gallery. At the corners of the build ing are four fine statues, representing Commerce, Industry, Agriculture, and Navigation. I may add that, instead of being lighted by windows, it is lighted from the roof, and that it is adorned with a clock which is magnificently illumi nated at night. On certain occasions the crowds assembled in the Exchange are very large, so that the gendarmes have difficulty in keeping the approaches open; and the amount of business transacted is oftentimes very great. I do not intend to give in this letter, or in any that I may hereafter write, anything like a detailed account of all the edifices and places, which I may visit in the French capital, and in France; as such an undertaking could not be anything else but unentertaining, and even tedious to you. I will, however, speak of a few. I have been to see the Palais Royal, having been taken thither by a man that I have hired to act as my guide ; of which noble pile, the mansion part of which is now the residence of Jerome Bonaparte, I will here say a word. This palace, including the buildings, gar den, and appurtenances, covers a nearly rectangular lot of ground of 1100 feet from north to south, by 400 from east to west. The chief entrance is from the Rue (or street) de St. Honore, on the south, by a splendid gateway and arcade. The visitor then enters a court, ornamented with some columns supporting a semicircular front, the main building being now immediately before him; while on each hand are wings extending toward the street. Immediately behind the main building is the garden, which is said to be 700 feet by 300. It contains flower-beds, a circular basin of water, with a fountain, bronze statues, and a solar cannon, (which the rays of the sun fire off every day in hot weather at 1 2 AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 29 o'clock,) and is planted around with a double row of lime- trees. Besides, around it are the most splendid shops in the world. Perhaps I ought not altogether to omit mentioning, when speaking of this palace and its garden, the spacious promenade of 300 feet in length, covered with glass, and having rows of shops on each side, — a splendid sight for a stranger to gaze on. Few places of modern times have more intimate associations with historical persons than this palace with its court and gardens. It was built by Cardinal Richelieu between 1629 and 1636 ; was owned by Louis XIII. ; Mazarin trod its staircases and courts ; Louis XIV. was raised in it ; and then it passed to his brother Philip, Duke of Orleans, and was owned by him and his descendants till the first revolution. During it the Jacobins held their first meetings in its garden, and the Montagnards and Gi rondists frequented its coffee-rooms ; the Duke of Orleans having, to restore his dilapitated fortune, converted its apartments and gardens, at least in part, into a bazaar. Then it was confiscated, and turned into a bazaar on a more larged scale. Next, during the first empire, Prince Lucien Bonaparte occupied its main edifice. And at length, in 1814, it was restored to Philip, Duke of Orleans, who re paired and improved it. Nor has its celebrity diminished since that time. It was on the square at its south end that the severest engagement of the Revolution of 1848 took place. Louis Philippe's troops, five or six thousand strong, and having the Chateau d'Eau for their stronghold, were there, on the 23d of February, attacked (the revolution had began on the 22d) by the revolutionists in great force. And at length the soldiery were beaten so that they were forced, after having lost one-fifth of their number, to flee. No more at present. Yours truly, M. F. 2* 30 TRAVELS IN FRANCE NO. IV Streets of Richelieu and r.ivoli— Obelisk of Luxor (the spot of the Guillotine)— Place de la Concorrti — Emperor's PaMce— Place de Carrousel, and its connection with the French Revolutions— Palace of the Louvre; its Wonderful Collections of Antiqui ties, Paintings, and Curiosities— Near by, tho Old Church of St. Germaine l'Auxer- rois ; its Belfry on the Night of St. Bartholomew. Paris, May, 1855. I write this letter to give you some account of the Tuile- ries and Louvre, and their surrounding scenery; the former the celebrated royal palace, and the latter the celebrated depository of the richest productions of art. Here I will pause to say that all that I felt sorry for when gazing on these grand objects of curiosity, was that I had not my friends around me to join with me in inspecting and admiring them. Let me ask you to proceed in my company down the Rue (or street) Richelieu to the Rue de Rivoli, — noble streets through which I have already passed several times, — and from it let us go to the Obelisk de Luxor, which stands right in front of the main facade of the Tuileries ; which facade faces the. setting sun. On this spot, this column consisting of a single huge stone of red granite, of seventy- two feet in height, and containing a hieroglyphical inscrip tion dating back to a time contemporary with the events related in the first chapter of Exodus, is erected. It was brought from Thebes, in Egypt, by Louis Philippe, and was subsequently here raised by him in 1836, the cost of rais ing it having been two hundred thousand francs. This stone weighs five hundred thousand pounds. Three vertical rows of hieroglyphics cover each of its faces; (thus, |J| ;) the middle row being cut perhaps nearly six inches deep, and the other two rows being scarcely more than very distinctly cut into the hard surface. The machinery employed in moving it, and that afterwards used in placing it upright, were grand efforts of mechanical invention, and the models of them, which I have seen, are well worthy of study. But what sort of machinery was used by the Egyptians for the same purpose three thousand four hundred years ago ? AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 31 The Egyptian Obelisk stands in the Place de Concorde, an area of about eighty acres in extent. Where it stands was a principal place, (the other was the Place de la Greve,) where the guillotine did its terrible work in the days of ter ror of the revolution of 1789; and close by the spot, where are two beautiful fountains, are the places where the fero cious mob used to sing and shout " Ca Ira," as the severed heads successively rolled into the executioner's basket. That beautiful spot, on which the traveler lingers to look on mingled beauty and magnificence, was wet with the blood, in the short time of two yenrs and three months, of two thou sand eight hundred persons of the leading portions of so ciety. There Louis XVI., Queen Maria Antoinette, Eliza beth, the sister of Louis XVI., and the Duke of Orleans died ; and there died the leading Girondists ; there, also, died Charlotte Corday; and, moreover, Danton, Robespierre and his brother, and Conthon, and St. Just, and Dumas. What a place for the guillotine ! — directly fronting and in sight of the main door of the royal palace ; the bell of the clock that is still remaining over which main door having been that which tolled the hour of death to those about to die. And not only did the guillotine front the Tuileries — it was also right in front and in sight of one of the main doors of the edifice in which the legislature used to hold, and still holds, its sittings ! And what victims were there sacrificed ! Not merely hated loyalty and dangerous political rivals, as men tioned already, but along with these, soldiers, as Alexander Beauharnois, Marshal Luckner, and General Biron ; whole families, as that of Malesherbes ; women, as the daughter of Elernet, the Princess of Monaco, and the noble Madame Lavergne ; and literary men, as the son of Buffon, Florian the novelist, and Boucher the poet. Frightful associations, to cluster around such a beautiful spot ! — a spot, the pros pect from which is, in some respects, unequaled in any city in the world. To the west of it is the Avenue of the Champs Elysees, extending more than one thousand two hundred fathoms, or about three thousand feet, to the Barriere of l'Etoile and the Arc de Triomphe. And on the sides, for some way, of this avenue, is the large space — in the shape of a triangle with two points cut off — containing the Palace of Industry, now the centre of so strong attraction. While such is the view looking westward, south are the Bridge de la 32 TRAVELS IN FRANCE Concorde, and the vast edifice in which the French legisla ture holds its sittings. Next, to the east are the Tuileries, with their western court and their celebrated garden and orangery. And again, to the north is situated the celebrated Church of the Madeleine. Before leaving the Place de Concorde, let me remark that it was here and in the vicinity that the armies of the Allies were reviewed in 1814. I would also mention that in this splendid area, while I was there, some soldiers were warming themselves around a fire which they had kindled, and I learned from them that no fire had been burned there till that time, from the time the Russians had one on the spot, when bivouacking in the streets of this city. Having viewed the obelisk and looked on surrounding scene ry, we now slowly walk through the garden of the Tuileries, with its beautiful statues and fine orangery, till we reach a circular basin of water in front of the palace ; the palace be ing separated from the garden by a spacious court, inclosed by an iron railing, and set apart to the exclusive use of the Emperor and his household. We have now a close and complete view of the royal habitation. The effect produced on the spectator by the sight of the vast edifice before him is unsurpassed. And that you may experience something of this effect, I will put you somewhat in his position. There is before you a vast pile, — of various heights and of diverse styles of architecture, — running nearly north and south from the beautiful Street de Rivoli, to a street extending the the whole length of the city along the north bank of the Seine ; (which river is here about four hundred and fifty feet in breadth ;) a corresponding street also reaching the entire length of the city on its other or southern bank. Now think x)f this pile being of finished architecture, and one thousand 'and eight feet, or one-fifth of a mile, in length; that is, the length of one hundred and sixty-eight houses, each house having sixty feet of front. Nor is the height, nor anything about the huge mass, disproportioned to its length. On the contrary, the main entrance, the windows, the columns, are proportioned to the whole, and the whole to them. And here I would remark that I have twice seen the Emperor return from excursions, and that at neither time did he enter from this side, though here, where is the main front, is, of course, the main entrance. Indeed, I was told he seldom makes use of the western door of the palace. Perhaps this AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 33 is because he wishes it to be appropriated to grand occa sions. I could not, however, help thinking that he chooses to look as seldom as possible to the spot where Louis XVI. turned his dying eyes to the Tuileries. I do not mean, by this, to say that I think there is any danger of his meeting a similar destiny. At all events, history will proclaim him a true Frenchman and an able sovereign. I now pass out from the space lying before the main or western front of the palace, to the street along the Seine, named, at this spot, the Quai des Tuileries ; and from it I at once enter the Place de Carrousel — a parallelogram of about (I judge) two hundred fathoms in length and one hundred and thirty in width. When here, the visitor finds himself opposite the eastern, or, (if I may so speak,) back front of the palace. It was on this open space that some of the most exciting scenes of the revolutions of 1789, 1830, and 1848 were witnessed ; and here Napoleon reviewed, in part, the noblest army the world ever saw, before marching it to conquer at Moscow and then perish beneath Russian snows. The Place de Carrousel is separated by an iron railing from a large court which runs up to the walls of the palace. From this court, as we mentioned was the case with the corresponding court contiguous to the other front of the palace, the public is excluded. About the middle of the fence of iron railing is a gate, at which is the triumphal arch built by Napoleon in 1806, on which he placed the antique horses of St. Marc, from Venice, and on which now stands a chariot with four horses in bronze ; the horses of St. Marc having been reclaimed in those days of retribution which followed the first overthrow of the first empire. It struck me, when gazing on and walking about the Tuileries, that there is not anything in which the scene is more unlike that at the Presidential Mansion in Washington, than in the presence of soldiers, horse and foot, as sentinels in the former place, while they are absent in the latter. Perhaps these circumstances are indicative of the different characters of the two governments ; the one resting for support on popular consent, (though it must be said, a consent not always very honestly obtained,) and the other on military force. Yet I do not know that the presence of a well-be haved and civil soldier at the mansion where resides the head of a great nation is an unsightly object. 34 TRAVELS IN FRANCE Before closing my account of the Imperial Palace of France, I will say a few words as to its history. It dates back to 1564, when the middle part of the structure was reared by the dissimulating and ruthless Catharine de Medi- cis. By Henry IV., Louis XIII., and Louis XIV., the other parts of the edifice were successively added ; while, at the same time that they enlarged it, they also decorated and im proved and beautified the surrounding grounds. It was in the part which, we have said, was built by herself, that, in 1572, Catharine de Medicisgave the celebrated fete that pre ceded the terrible massacre of St Bartholomew, when one hundred thousand Huguenots perished ; on which occasion, in an allegorical representation in which the king (Charles IX.) and his courtiers acted a part, they were represented as excluding the Huguenot King of Navarre and his friends from Paradise, and as, finally, victoriously driving them to perdition. Such was the serio-comic masquerade that went before one of the most cruel deeds of history. It was the tigress sporting with her prey before tearing it to pieces. Since, many important occurrences associate themselves with the edifice in respect to which I have been writing. During two hundred years, all the kings, queens, leading statesmen and diplomatists, and great soldiers of France, with most of the great men of all civilized lands, ascended its staircases, promenaded its saloons, and sat, and stood, and conversed in its apartments. Then came the year 1789, the beginning of the great revolution. During the progress of this event, it was the scene of many stirring transactions. It was to it that, in October, 1789, the mob took Louis XVI. and Maria Antoinette, after having brought them from Ver sailles to the Hotel de Ville. On June 20, 1792, it was at tacked by thirty thousand of the Sans Culottes ; when, the soldiers having shaken the priming from their muskets, the gates of the Place de Carrousel were forced, and then the doors of the palace ; the mob forcing itself into the royal presence, there taking all sorts of low familiarities, and finally compelling Louis to put on a red, greasy cap, as the cap of liberty. Of the doings of this mob the young Napoleon was an indignant spectator, exclaiming to his- companion, " What nonsense ! Mow down the first five hundred with grape, and the rest would soon take to their heels." Next, on the night of August 10, 1792, another mob made its way AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 35 to the Tuileries, bringing with it six cannon, which it pointed at the main door. On this occasion, the king and the royal family had to flee to the hall of the legislature ; while the Swiss Guard, deserted by the National Guards, and, along with the Swiss, the servants and inmates of the royal abode, were coolly and cruelly slaughtered by the multitude. Next, on a raw, cold, cloudy day, January 21, 1793, the western facade of this palace looked down, at the distance of some thing over one thousand eight hundred feet, on long lines of the people of Paris, drawn up in imitation of regular sol diery, with muskets, and pikes, and halberts, — perhaps one hundred thousand men crowding the street ; while a hack-car riage, guarded by numerous armed men, slowly approached. This carriage was accompanied by the deafening noise of sixty drums beating. And then, after a silent pause, and a brief interval of martial music so loud as to stun, the King of France was a headless trunk. Next, a little more than a year after this, in the summer of 1794, the same face of the Tuileries looked down on another spectacle of a different character. In their garden was assembled a vast multitude, and in the midst of this concourse were three statues, repre sentative of Atheism, Discord, and Selfishness. To these representative statues Robespierre, the Jacobin chief, might be seen approaching with a lighted torch, when they became a sheet of fire ; and another representative statue, that of Wisdom, rose in their stead, begrimed with smoke and dust. Such was the show that was supposed to re-inaugurate reli gion in France. Next, a little later in the same year, July 28, 1794, at four in the evening, this same Jacobin leader, con quered and helpless, might be seen a little beyond the gar den, where the mummery ,of the statues had been acted. Along with him are twenty-two of his accomplices. A wild populace, groaning, hissing, and rejoicing, stand around. And then the guillotine does its work. Next, October 5, 1795, we find a man very different from Robespierre in the garden of the Tuileries, — Napoleon Bonaparte. The National Legis lature is sitting in the palace of the old kings, and the Sec tions or Wards of the capital have declared war against it. On the first day the Wards are the victors. Then at night, Napoleon is commissioned to fight for the representatives of the nation, with five thousand men under his command, while the Wards have forty thousand. The danger is im- 36 TRAVELS IN FRANCE, minent. But he procures from Sablons, five miles off, fifty heavy guns. Also, he hands muskets and cartridges through the windows to the members of the legislative body. After a time, the regular tramp of heavy masses of disciplined men is heard approaching. Rue de St. Honore, a broad street running east and west, a little to the north of the Tuileries, is crowded. Other streets are crowded. The bridges over the Seine are threatened by powerful detach ments. Bonaparte's men can even hear the word of com mand given from their assailants — •" Charge !" Then he says "Fire 1" and St. Honore is swept with discharges of grape, rapid and repeated. Meanwhile, a bridge over the Seine is carried, and the insurgents are rushing along the graveled walks of the palace garden, on the legislature, anxiously sitting in its hall in the Tuileries. But three dis charges of grape from the heavy guns, right in their teeth, scatter them like grass before the scythe. Thus was the Parisian mob brought to succumb. Next, something like five years after this, the conqueror of the Wards of Paris, now, also, the conqueror of Italy and Egypt, enters the Tuileries, in the capacity of First Consul, to make them his residence. And then, having occupied them fourteen years, as Consul and Emperor, he gives way to the race of the old kings, which again occupies the old mansion of its family. Then the great soldier returns from Elba, and, by the bridge of Concorde, the quay of the Tuileries, and the arch way of the Louvre, again enters the vacant palace. And then, after the hundred days' reign is over, the Bourbons again take possession of it. Since the time of the second restoration, the Tuileries have witnessed important events. In the revolution of July, 1830, when Charles X. was overthrown, it was in the Place de Carrousel, aback of them, that the soldiers of Marmont made their last rally in favor of the tottering throne, before their retreat to St. Cloud. And, in February, 1848, when Louis Philippe fell, before surrendering, they were the scene of a fierce fight. They are now occupied by the court of Louis Napoleon. Now that we have done with the Tuileries, the Palace of the Louvre will claim attention. It is just east of them, and is in process of being connected with them ; and, like them, is separated from the Seine merely by a broad street. The AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 37 present edifice was begun in 1528, and was not fully com pleted till the reign of the first emperor. It is in the shape of a hollow square, forming a quadrangle of four hundred feet by five hundred. Its main front is 525 feet, or about one- half that of the Imperial Palace ; the chief entrance, which of course is in this front, and which is furnished with ornate bronze folding-doors, being from the east, and thus being the reverse of that of the Tuileries, whose main door, as I said above, opens to the west. Two of its fronts are compara tively plain ; but that toward the river, and especially that toward the east, are exceedingly imposing. Indeed, I do not know whether there is anything equal in grandeur to the colonnade of the Louvre, consisting of twenty-eight Co rinthian columns standing above the basement story, and with a wide gallery behind them ; the entire front to which this colonnade belongs being in harmony with it. The Louvre was originally erected for a royal palace. While it still retained this character it was the residence of Henry III., of Henry IV., of Louis XIII., of Henriette of England, (widow of Charles I.,) and of Louis XV. during his minority. Since this time it has been used as a museum. The riches of its treasures as such, can scarcely be imagined. It contains immense collections of the most curious objects of all ages and countries, and especially of France, Italy, Greece, Turkey in Asia, and Egypt. To mention a few par ticulars : here you see, of white marble, an ancient statue from Egypt, of Rameses II. , a king belonging to the nineteenth dynasty of Egyptian kings ; and I could not help observing that the Caucasian face which it displays goes a a good way to refute the theory which has been supported, that the an cient Egyptians were not of the white race. Yet I am aware that much may be said on both sides, and that the monarch and the inferior masses may have been of diverse lineages. The magnificent sarcophagus of Rameses IV., brought from the catacombs of Beban-el-Moulouk, is here, as is a monolith chapel of rose-granite, dedicated by the celebrated Amasis to the Egyptian Minerva, with other articles, from Egypt, of an age almost equally hoary. Here are marble baths, three in number, such as were used by the ancients. Here are two sarcophagi from Salonica, whose elaborate sculpturing shows them to have inclosed persons of quality. Here is a variety of articles dug out of the buried cities of Hercula- 3 38 TRAVELS IN FRANCE neum and Pompeii. And here the scholar may summon up his scholarship to gratify his curiosity in the interpretation of many original inscriptions in hieroglyphics, in Greek, and in Latin, dating back to the most remote antiquity. Here, to come to more modern curiosities, you see Charlemagne's sword, sceptre, and belt. Here the visitor sees likenesses of Henry IV., Louis XIV, and Francis II. , clothed in the armor which they actually wore in life. Here is a shoe of the unhappy • Maria Antoinette, and here is her secretary. Here, in what is called Napoleon's room, you see his bridle, his saddle, his sword, his camp-bed, his hat, several of his coats, and with these his gray overcoat. Here you are per mitted to inspect those simple and unpretending mathemati cal instruments which he carried with him in his campaigns. Here you see an old hat which he wore in St. Helena, and a poor dilapidated thing it would be on the head of a hum ble mechanic ; and, along with it, an old pocket-handkerchief, which he carried in" the same place of abode. Here, also, are his little son's clothes, made of plain whitish flannel, be ing, as to their material, anything but what we would ex pect to see on a child who was at once the son of an empe ror of France, and the descendant of the proud house of Hapsburg. Besides, here is the little bed of the same child ; which bed became' likewise that of the Due de Bordeaux, the posthumous son of the Due de Berry — that boy in behalf of whose succession to the throne Charles X., when abdi cating, stipulated. Moreover, here is exposed to the visitors' view the secretary of the late Louis Philippe, broken by the fury of the populace when it overthrew his throne and dynas ty. I would also observe that, under glass cases in one of the rooms, are models of the city of Brest, L'Orient, and other French cities. The chief things, however, which distinguish the Louvre, are the collection of paintings and statuary. The collections of these are of the noblest description. As I walked through them I was filled with admiration. No one could imagine, without looking on it, such a vast assemblage of master-pieces of painting. Gallery after gallery filled ; and one work of capital excellence after another ; with a number of ladies, — the beautiful, dark-complexioned Italian, the equally dark and equally beautiful Spaniard, and the brunette French woman, — all engaged in copying one or another of the various master- AND- THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 39 pieces that adorn the walls. The very vastness of these col lections deters me from attempting a description in detail. I will conclude this letter by saying that immediately in front of the main entrance of the Louvre stands the very an cient church of Saint Germain l'Auxerrois. This church was built by Childeric in the year 580, and it was rebuilt by one ofthe Capets in 990. It is divided into five naves with several chapels. It is distinguished for a fine porch, a mag nificent choir, paintings by the first masters, and windows with stained glass, of altogether unequaled splendor. This church was long the parish church of what was, in bygone days, the royal parish ; after which parish the French court was formerly called the court of St. Germain. When the visitor looks up to its belfry, he cannot help the rushing up ofthe recollection that it was from it went forth the terrible peal, on the night of Bartholomew's Day, 1572, that, respond ing to the tocsin or great bell of the Louvre, (at that time the king's palace,) gave the signal for the death of the great multitude, of which we spoke above, of the most God-fearing and righteousness-loving citizens of France. • I remain, &c, M. F. P. S. — I would mention, in connection with what I have said of the Tuileries in this letter, a circumstance, which I am altogether unwilling to pass by, that occurred to me there on the morning after my arrival in this city. The man whom I hired to guide me around requested me to go with him after breakfast to take a view of that palace ; and, while we were standing in the Place de Carrousel, a person in the or dinary dress of a citizen came to us, and directed us to go to the palace door. We did so, when a gentleman came down and stood in the door, who was pointed out to us as the general of the imperial guard, General Vaillant. Such an attention as this is, I assure you, not very common in Paris. Indeed, .to be thus noticed by him, who, after the emperor, is perhaps the proudest man in France, is certainly an atten tion of the most honorable character. But, perhaps, it was not meant for me, but for an honest man who has long since turned to dust, — a man who loved his native land well, but not wisely, (at least for himself.) I suppose I ought not to omit altogether the mention of this matter ; and, noticing it at all, I choose to make the mention in this place, though I am aware that my doing this involves a slight anachronism. 40 TRAVELS IN FRANCE NO. V. The I'Eysee-Bonrbon— Emperor's Pavilion— The Lnxemhonrg— The Senate Chamber —Hotel de Petit— Ney shot close by— French Legislative Hall— Imperial Library- Hannibal's Shield— One of the First Books Printed— Coin of Romulus, 4c. Paris, May, 1855. I purpose in this letter to introduce you to some acquaint ance with the Palace l'Elysee-Bourbon, with that of the Luxembourg, and also with its adjoining edifice, the Hotel du Petit, with that of the National Assembly, and with the Im perial Library. The palace of the Elysee-Bourbon is situated on the street called the Faubourg St. Honore, or the out part of the Street St. Honore ; being quite close to the mansion of the English Ambassador. Its garden lies opposite the Palace St Industry; on the other side, from it, of the Champs Elysees. Its garden is separated from one of the two lateral walks of this street only by an iron railing. Though I was not in the palace itself, which is by no means a magnificent edifice, I was in this garden. And, with its flowers and deco rations, it must be pronounced most superb. At the time I was in it there stood in it a temporary circular pavilion, ex ceedingly magnificent, with the letter N., (for Napoleon,) conspicuously marked on its canvas, and with a sentinel guarding it from intrusion. I, with my companion, went up to this pavilion, when he at once leaped in with his dusty boots, inviting me to come in too, the sentinel only laugh ing. I, however, declined this familiarity. As to the palace itself, it is of much smaller dimensions than most of the other Parisian palaces. It has been inhabited by many celebrated personages; — by the Marchioness d'Pompadour, (the pow erful mistress of Louis XV.,) and by the Duchess de Bour bon; then, in the great revolution, it became a printing- office ; then Murat lived in it ; then it- witnessed the presence of the Emperor of Russia after the first occupation of Paris ; next Napoleon I. made it his abode, having signed in it his second abdication ; and subsequent to this it was occcupied by the Duke of Wellington, after Waterloo ; by the Duke de AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 41 Berry, who fell by the hand of an assassin in 1820, by Don Pedro, and at length by Louis Napoleon, the present Empe ror, while president of the late republic. The palace of the Luxembourg stands in a distant part of Paris from that palace of which we have been speaking, and on the other side of the Seine from it. The palace of which we have been speaking stands toward the west of the main body of the city, while the Luxembourg lies near its extreme southern edge. This palace, which was built for Mary of Medicis, widow of Henry IV., was completed in 1620. It has been occupied by many historical characters : by the Duchess de Montpensier, better known as Mademoiselle de Montpensier, who, in the war of the Fronde, was an influen tial and bold enemy of the court party ; by the Duchess de Guise; by the Duchess of Brunswick; by Mademoiselle Or leans ; and by Monsieur and Madame, (the former the bro ther of Louis XVI.,) who thence, in the days of terror, es caped to Brussels. Subsequently to this escape, it was con verted into a prison. Afterwards it was the place of meet ing of the Five Directors, and then of the Three Consuls. Then Napoleon leaving, in 1789, the Rue Chantereine, (from him named Rue Victoire,) took up his residence here as First Consul, continuing to occupy it till 1800, when he went to the Tuileries. Afterwards, it came to be the place of assem bling of the Senate, and after a time, of the Chamber of Peers. It is a majestic and regular square. It has two main fronts, one toward the north, and facing the end of the Rue de Tournon which opens directly north from it to the Seine, and the other facing the spacious ornamented grounds called the Luxembourg Garden, southward. Its external appearance toward the Rue de Tournon is that of a ma jestic edifice of three very lofty stories in height ; there be ing in the centre an elevation called technically a pavilion, this being surmounted by a cupola ; and there being at the extremities, two such elevations connected with the central portion ofthe building by wings, or less elevated parts of the roof. The gallery of paintings in this palace is adorned with the productions of the first living masters. There are also some other things in it which have considerable interest attached to them. There is the throne of Louis Napoleon. Then there is the bed-room of Catharine de Medicis, (the daughter of Lorenzo de Medicis, Duke of Urbino,) a Queen 3* 42 TRAVELS IN FRANCE of France, and the mother of three French kings. It is in the same condition in which its powerful but unrighteous occupant left it, more than 260 years ago ; plainly and sim ply furnished, yet leaving a grand impression on the mind of the visitor. But what interested me most was the Senate Chamber, or, as otherwise known, the House of Peers ; a room in which some of the finest minds of France and of the world have displayed their intellectual wealth on questions of the greatest moment to the jvelfare' of nations. It is about the size of a not large country church in the United States. The seats are without desks, (as should always be the case,) and rise in a semicircle, one above another, around the president's seat, which rises from the original level of the room. Above this level, a second floor, in successive ascending benches, amphitheatre-like, rises ; or in other words, the ascent of this floor, instead of being gradual, is like the steps in stairs. While here, a noble-looking old gen tleman stood close beside me for a considerable time, and upon whom I could not help looking intently, and with reverence, so far as politeness would permit. This gentleman, I was in formed, was ex-Senator Revery, (though I ought to say I do not know whether I spell the word properly.) This chamber is still in the same condition in every respect as when last oc cupied by the Peers of France. It is by no means so richly decorated as the Senate Chamber in Washington. Close by the garden of the Luxembourg Palace, stands a more unpretending edifice, which I cannot pass by without some notice, the Hotel de Petit ; which edifice was built by Cardinal Richelieu for his mother, and which was afterwards owned by the Prince de Conde. Since his day, the histori cal associations connected with it are numerous. In the days of the old Republic, the Directory made considerable use of it, here having received General Bonaparte after his return from Egypt ; also, Bonaparte used it much at the commencement of his Consulship ; also, Ney was confined here after the second return of the Bourbons, having been shot in the adjoining garden ; and here were Polignac and his assooiates confined after their overthrow and before their trial. To Ney a most admirably executed statue has been erected in this vicinity in the street. He is on foot, with sword drawn, and from his open mouth the word of com mand to charge is jssuing ; a fac-simile of what he was AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 43 when leading on the Guard in its last terrible effort to re trieve Waterloo, -j- I will now say a few words in relation to the Palace of the National Assembly; the edifice in which the Legislature meets. This edifice stands on the southern bank of the Seine, being separated from the river only by the width of a street, and being opposite to the Bridge de la Concorde. On the northern bank of the Seine, opposite, is the celebrated Egyptian Obelisk, and a little to the east are the garden of the Tuileries and the Emperor's palace. At the present time the Legislature is not in session. The legislative palace is an immense block of buildings, approximating in shape to a square, and having two fronts, one facing that street along the river called the Quai d'Orcay, and the other on the street named University Street. Of these two fronts, that on the Rue de l'Universite is the more imposing and the chief, though the other is the more pleasing to me. The river front of the edifice rises above an ascent made by a long and broad flight of steps. It is ornamented by a colonnade of Corinthian columns ; and before it stand four colossal statutes of four eminent Frenchmen, — Sully, Colbert, l'Hos- pital, and d'Aguesseau, — while statues of Wisdom and Justice stand at the entrance. Such is a part of what this front exhibits. The entrance from University, Street is a a lofty gateway, having a line of grand columns on each side ; each of these lines of columns having a pavilion at that extremity of it away from the gateway. Then there is a spacious court ; and from this leads the entrance to the vast room called the hall of session, — a room semicircular in shape, and which is capable of accommodating seven hundred and fifty members with seats. The presiding officer's chair is in the centre of the diameter that makes the hall a semi circle. The speakers, when in the act of addressing the house, do not stand at their seats, but occupy a tribune in front of the presiding officer. As to the members, each one has a desk, each such desk forming the back of the seat before it ; while as to the seats, the successive rows of these rise, one above another, as in an ampitheatre — an ar rangement resembling what prevails, as I before remarked, in the Chamber of Peers. I would add that the strangers' gallery is ample, being said to be capable of accommodating between six and seven hundred persons. This palace is about 44 TRAVELS IN FRANCE one hundred and thirty years old. It was at first private property. In 1795 it became the seat of the Council of Five Hundred. Subsequently, it came, in the time of Napo leon I., to be occupied by the Corps Legislatif. Then it be came the place of assembly of the Chamber of Deputies, and now it is occupied by the legislative body of the new empire. I now proceed to give some account of my visit to the Imperial Library, or, as it was formerly denominated, the National Library. The edifice in which it is contained is in the Rue de Richelieu, and, north of the Palais Royal. It is a plain but large and convenient building. It contains, — as well as its literary treasures, — some very curious an tiquities. Of these I would mention the shield of Hannibal the Carthagenian, (a trophy of ancient Rome,) the brass chair or throne on which King Dagobert sat more than one thousand two hundred years, ago, and the armor of Francis I. These, however, are but small things when compared with its other treasures. It contains the immense number of eight hundred thou sand printed works ; and if the double copies be included, one million two hundred thousand. It contains eighty thou sand manuscripts, in a variety of languages, four hundred thousand medallions, one million engravings, three hundred thousand maps, one hundred thousand medals of gold, sil ver, and bronze, (all of these of great value,) and many thousands of precious antique gems. Such is an approxi mation to the amount of the treasures of this vast literary depository. One thing in it that, among others, attracted my notice, was a Bible printed by Jean Guttemberg, at Mayence, be tween 1450 and 1455. Guttemberg, I need scarcely say, was the inventor of typographical printing. He, about 1438, it is known, printed at Strasburg with movable types of wood. Between 1443 and 1445, he returned to his native city of Mentz. In 1450 he entered into partnership in said city with John Faust, a wealthy goldsmith, to carry on the business of printing ; and, between this and 1455, the Bible of which I am speaking was printed. It contains neither tlrf name of the printer nor the year in which it was printed, — a circumstance characteristic, (as some say, though perhaps the statement ought to be somewhat modified,) of all the books AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 45 which Guttemberg gave to the public. The typography, even when compared with the best modern typography, I regard as good. Another work, which I also closely in spected, was the Psalter, printed in 1457, by John Faust, (spoken of above,) in connection with Peter Schceffer. Faust had dissolved the partnership between him and Guttemberg, and had gone into partnership with Schceffer; and these two, (or one of them, Schceffer,) were the inventors of cast metallic types. In this edition of the Psalter the printing is characterized by a high degree of excellence. I also felt deeply interested in the vast collection of coins which has been here made. These are under glass sashes, and a guard stands by to observe that no one improperly touches them. In this collection I particularly noticed a coin of Romulus ; this coin thus dating back to about 750 B.C. Some hypercritical moderns have even questioned the ex istence of such a personage as Romulus,- and others affirm that there was no coinage at Rome before Servius Tullius. But the old Italian States had a coinage from the earliest times, and the founder of Rome, in casting money, would only have been doing what he saw done by his neighbors. Besides, Pliny affirms that it was coined from the very commencement of the city. What may have been the particular history of the piece of money that we saw labelled as belonging to the reign of Romulus, I do not pretend to say. Perhaps it may have been taken out of some old sepulchre where it had been put to pay fare, for some long-forgotten shade, over the River Styx. At all events, I presume the per sons who deposited it where I saw jt, were qualified to in vestigate its claims to antiquity. I also noticed a coin of Darius Hystaspis, going back to about 500 B.C. ; one of Xerxes, 470 B.C. ; coins of Athens, Egina, Achaia, and Bceotia ; a coin, or coins, of Pompey the Great, of Julius Caesar, of Tiberius, (in whose reign the Saviour was cruci fied,) of Theodosius I., of Justinian, of Attalus, and of Mo hammed II. It is asserted by those learned in the science of numismatics, that the number of coins, and of medals, ex tant from ancient times, does not very greatly exceed seventy thousand ; these having been mainly recovered from tombs and from such other places as they may have been stored in, in long by-gone days, by fear, avarice, or superstition. Now, if suoh be about the sum-total of all the antique medals, and 46 TRAVELS IN FRANCE coins, extant, and if, as we are informed was the case, Pel- lerin added to the Parisian cabinet thirty-three thousand pieces of this recovered wealth of antiquity, then the col lection, in this place contains no small part of all the ancient numismatic riches now in the world. I will conclude my account of my visit to the Imperial Library, and, at the same time, conclude my letter, by a few words in relation to an object that long attracted a great deal of attention from the learned. I speak of the Zodiac of Denderah, which is here to be seen. This antique work, which was brought to Paris in the beginning of 1822, is in the gallery of ancient sculpture in that edifice, that I have just been writing about. It happened that this monument of antiquity was about the first thing that my guide led me to inspect on entering the part of the building in which, over head, it has been put up. It was found during the occupation of Egypt by Bona parte, in a temple of Isis, standing amid the ruins of the ancient Tentyra, one and a half miles from the village of Denderah. The temple in which it was discovered is de scribed as still magnificent, though an abused ruin for per haps one thousand four hundred years ; being two hundred and twenty feet in length by fifty in width, with a portico supported by twenty-four columns, and being of perfectly pure Egyptian architecture, such as characterized the days of the native kings. Indeed, four zodiacs were found, two at Esne, the ancient Latopolis, and two near Denderah ; both towns being places of Thebais or Upper Egypt. The one in the Imperial Library, which was the most perfect, is, however, from Denderah, being the larger of the two discovered near that place. For it the government gave one hundred and fifty thousand francs. It is pictured on the surface of a huge block of sandstone, which was origin ally twelve feet long, eight wide, and three thick, but which, in the cutting out, was reduced to about nine by five, the same figures being employed to represent the constellations as are now used- to signify them. In it the lion leads the zodiacal figures, which follow him in a spiral track, the lion being placed after the point of intersection of the eclip tic and the equator. It was first discovered by General Desaix. Denon, who accompanied the Egyptian expedition, in the plates of his AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 47 great work on Egypt, first gave the figures on it to the in spection and study of Europe, Starting from the assump tion that when put up it represented the actual state of the heavens, the most extravagant notions of its antiquity were supported by mathematical calculations that proceed from this basis, Some philosophers would have it fifteen thousand years of age, some seven thousand, and others four thousand six hundred before the year of our Lord, or six hundred before the epoch of the creation of the Bible. At length, as has been already mentioned, it was brought to France, and upon this the disputes relative to the epoch of its fabrication were renewed with fresh ardor. All the old arguments in favor of its supposed great antiquity were reconstructed, confirmed, and illustrated. On the other hand, it was argued that Champollion, just before its re moval, had deciphered from the inscription on the temple containing it, the. Greek word for emperor, and the sur names of Tiberius, Claudius, Nero, and Domitian. And again, it was argued, that it was not an astronomical zo diac but one connected with astrology, the figures being what adepts in that science call themes of nativity. Oue thing is certain, that of the wonders and antiquities of hoary Egypt it is one of the greatest. I remain, &c, M. F. NO. VI. Drive from Place de Bourse, to Industrial Palace — General of the Imperial Guard and Guard — Artesian Well of Grenelle — Return to the Industrial Palace — Emperor and Empress — Cortege, CivU and MiUtary — Visit, on next day, to Interior of Palace — Rain. Paris, May, 1855. I purpose to give you in this^pistle some account of an out-of-door view of the opening of the Palace of Industry on yesterday ; prefacing my account of this grand display by telling you of my going to see the Artesian well of Grenelle on the morning of said day, and appending a few remarks 48 TRAVELS IN FRANCE in relation to a visit to the interior of the palace on the day following. The morning of Tuesday, the 15th inst., ushered in, with respect to me as to thousands of others in Paris, a day of bright expectation, as on it the grand ceremony of inaugu rating the huge and splendid palace of glass in the Champs Elysees was to be performed by the Emperor in person. Of him I had not yet had any very satisfactory sight, and I was very desirous of having a near view of the man who is the representative of the great Napoleon and the head of the French people. I also wished to see the other mem bers of the Bonaparte family. And the day itself, though rainy till about ten o'clock, became one not of pleasant sun shine exactly, yet sufficiently warm and agreeable. Shortly after breakfast I, with my companion, went around to the Place de la Bourse, — my hotel being a few doors from it in the Rue Joquejet, as I believe I told you before, — where, entering a carriage, we directed the driver to drive first to the Industrial Palace and thence to the place where the Artesian well is situated. However, when we reached the Palace, and we had looked about for awhile, a gen darme came to our carriage and requested ns, or, I should rather say, directed us (for the officers of the French gov ernment do not so much request as order) to pass across a certain one of the bridges over the Seine, and, by a particu lar line of street, to the place of our destination. I accord ingly proceeded as directed, when there met us the General of the Imperial Guard, whom I had before met at the door of the Tuileries, in a carriage drawn by two horses ; several regiments of the Imperial Guard, horse and foot ; also the members of the French Legislature in carriages ; and then several regiments of the line, horse and foat. I had, some time before, seen a park of twenty pieces of artillery trot ting out of the city to practise, as I was told. The whole display, I need hardly say, was remarkably grand. I con ceive that no finer body of soldiery has ever existed than the present French Imperial Guard. The fact is, I would at any time go a hundred miles to see it. The size, the shape, the drill of the soldiers, — everything about them is nearly perfect ; and the appearance of their general is at once prepossessing and exceedingly soldier-like. The Artesian well of Grenelle is situated in the south- AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 49 west part of Paris, not far from the Champ de Mars. Its entire depth from the surface is 547 metres, or 1795 English feet ; and it throws the water up, above the ground, 30 me tres, or something more than 98 feet. The tube in which the fluid ascends, goes up to the latter height nearly, when it makes a bend and comes directly down. There is, at two or three feet above the ground, a stop-cock by which the water may be drawn off at pleasure ; otherwise it flows away by concealed passages. At the stop-cock the water is more than warm enough for a hot-bath, being 85° of Fahren heit, or 9° hotter than summer heat ; and this though it has come up 1795 feet, and in addition to this has traveled, through a tube exposed to the air, 98 feet, in ascending, and as many also in descending, by which long and circuit ous journey it must have lost much of its heat; this, there fore, must be very great at the bottom of the well. When it comes out it is commingled with a gas which, in thirty-six hours, gives an amber color to glass immersed in the water; which water, I may remark, is pleasant to drink. The quan tity which is emitted is 660 gallons in a minute. This well was begun on the 24th of December, 1833, and was seven years one month and twenty-six days in being sunk. The diameter of the orifice of the well, I learned, is 19^ English inches, and of the bottom 7 inches and a fraction. Wells of this sort have been sunk in the ancient province of Artois since the beginning of the twelfth century ; but none equal in depth to this had ever been bored. When, at Toulouse, boring had been carried to the depth of 1260 feet without finding water, the work was abandoned ; but here, though no sign of it was found when this depth had been reached, yet M. Mulot, the engineer employed, persevered, carrying the work, in spite of several times losing the augur, to its present great depth. The whole inside of the bore is lined with strong galvanized iron, (that is, iron dipped into melted zinc and then into tin to prevent its oxydation.) This well was sunk with the view of procuring water for the purifying of the slaughter-houses in this part of the city, but, owing to the warmth of the water, the purpose has not been an swered. Having thus satisfied my curiosity at Grenelle, I proceeded to the vicinity of the Palace of Industry; in going thither, as I had an abundance of time, driving past many celebrated 4 50 TRAVELS IN FRANCE places and buildings, several of which I had already seen : to particularize some of these, I may name the Sorbonne, the Institute of France, the Clinic College, and the Medical College just on the opposite side of the street. At length, reaching the desired place, I took my station on a spot ex ceedingly favorable for a sight of the cortege and of each individual in it. I stood, with the person who acted as my companion and guide, on an elevated place, and close by the line of march of the procession ; and here, elevating myself still more on a rush-bottomed chair which I hired for a few coppers, I was as well fixed for a view of the splendid dis play as I could wish. Looking in the one direction, before my eyes were the main front of the Tuileries, their garden and orangery ; then marble basins of water with their magnificent jets in full play ; then the magnificent Place de Concorde with the hoary Obelisk of Luxor ; and then the Champs Elysees, always, and in all weathers, kept as clean as a palace. Turning in the other way, spread out before my sight, were the new palace of glass for the universal exhibi tion of industry and of the fine arts, — now about to be opened, — surmounted by France, in white marble, holding out two crowns which she proposes to the most deserving of all na tions ; meanwhile, the tricolor, in conjunction with the flags of allied powers, floating from the loftiest pinnacle of the crystal fabric ; and then in front of this newly constructed building the noble Avenue of the Champs Elysees extending in a straight line down to the Arch of Triumph, and stretch ing out beyond this to Neuilly, which is four miles from the Place de Concorde above spoken of, — where the Champs Elysees takes its beginning. Nor did I stand long on the spot to which I had been led, (it being now about a quar ter past twelve o'clock,) till the troops began to arrive in large bodies in the Avenue ; (on a lofty bank by the side of which I was standing;) also at the same time occupy ing in great force the garden of the Tuileries and the Place de la Concorde. No soldiery could be conceived to make a finer appearance than did the several bodies of the infantry of the Imperial Guard, and also of the infantry of the line, as, fourteen or sixteen deep, they marched by in columns headed by parties of sappers with their glit tering axes. Immediately after having thus marched past, a portion of the troops took up their station in two lines AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 51 reaching from the royal palace to the exhibiton palace; great numbers of persons being collected along these lines, and on any points from which a view of the procession could be obtained. At about ten minutes to one a cannon shot announced that the Emperor and Empress were about leav ing their splendid mansion; and, looking in the direction from which the report came, I saw, over the roofs of the houses, the smoke of the gun curling above the Hotel des Invalides, — from which edifice shot after shot now continued slowly to boom. After the firing of this cannon shot, (only a few minutes after,) the Imperial cortege set out. It was opened by a squadron of cuirassiers of the Imperial Guard, headed by their fine band ; then came three State carriages, and two, fol lowed by two others drawn by six horses, bearing the ladies and officers of the Imperial Court — the former in magnificent toilettes, the latter in court dresses or uniform ; next came the Princess Mathilde in a carriage drawn by six horses, and then came the Emperor and Empress in a splendid carriage richly gilt, fitted up with white silk, and tastefully orna mented, it being drawn by eight horses, the first six of which were led by grooms in the Imperial livery : moreover, imme diately preceding the Imperial carriage was a number of out riders and equeries, the latter in uniforms of green and gold ; and immediately following it were the Cent-Guards, whose brilliant uniforms excited great admiration ; the procession being closed by another squadron of cuirassiers. As the cortege passed on, the troops presented arms, the drums beat, and the bands of the different regiments, enlivening the cavalcade with music powerful and sweet enough to make Ju piter and all his gods, — superior and inferior, — dance, played " Partant pour la Syrie." After no very long time, the Em peror, and his maguificent cortege, civil and military, re turned to the Imperial mansion, (a good deal after the man ner in which they had come from it,) to partake of a banquet prepared for numerous invited guests, — one of the main differences, between the going and the returning being that in the latter case the cortege was increased by the presence of the foreign ambassadors in their carriages, of the great officers of State and ministers in carriages, and of the mem bers of the French Legislature also in carriages. Also, in the returning, Prince Jerome, (now quite an old man,) and 52 TRAVELS IN FRANCE his son Prince Napoleon, (the latter the president of the ex hibition committee,) appeared conspicuous. Also, in the returning, the General of the Imperial Guard, who was ac companied by several colonels, appeared likewise very con spicuous ; as, indeed, he did at both times. I would remark that, as the cortege passed in its returning, the double lines of soldiers along the avenue, as well as the soldiery in the vicinity of the exhibition edifice, formed into column and marched after it. The grand display being now over, I returned to my hotel in the Rue Joquelet ; spending part of the evening in some conversation with one of the monks of St. Bernard, who is staying where I am staying, and who like myself is a stranger. Of course, my witnessing of the magnificent scene of yes terday could not fail to awaken in me a strong desire to in spect the interior of the exhibition palace. Accordingly, this morning I early set out to visit it, admission being now extended to the public promiscuously. Unfortunately, the weather, instead of the louring retentiveness of yesterday's sky, had become unpleasant; spitting occasional drops of rain. Upon reaching the sought-for edifice and entering the gate (at which a certain admission fee was required) I could not help the being struck with the incompleteness and want of finish which yet characterize the vast fabric and every thing about it. In the grounds outside, the soil looked, es pecially about the edges, as if but yesterday delved ; and the newly transplanted trees as if they were but imperfectly sup plied with the necessary sap from the roots. And an equal incompleteness marked the inside of the edifice. Not more than one-half of it was yet ready for the reception of the articles brought by exhibitors to be displayed. Some Ame rican exhibitors, who came in the steamship with me, would not stop even a night at Havre lest their wares should be excluded ; but, instead of there being any need of this haste, the portion allotted to the United States was either mere vacant space or unplaned pine boards. Britain, Belgium, Austria, and some of the States of Italy and of the minor States of Germany alone, were at all able to display their goods ; and most of these but imperfectly. It was plain that the bloused workmen had been laggards, or that the exhibi tion committee had miscalculated. I am disposed to think that the former was the case, the employees yielding to some sinister influence : indeed, I myself have seen, I am pretty AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 53 sure, such things among workmen in the United States. Yet, in spite of the backwardness of the state in which it is, the palace itself bears the aspect of that which when finished will be very grand. There are two remarks that I would here make in respect to this Exhibition Palace. First, unlike the London palace of '51, which was avowedly a temporary erection, run up for the exhibition of a single year, this edifice is a perma nent building, intended' to suffice for hundreds of displays of every description. Its architecture is therefore character ized by durability and strength. Secondly, the present build ing can scarcely be considered as more than a splendid vesti bule to the suite of structures to be raised ; the vast annex along the quay, and the building of the Fine Arts, consti tuting the principal complements ; but complements im measurably more extensive than the main edifice. These considerations are to be borne in mind in order that the structure, as it now is, may be appreciated, or, I may say, be understood. Upon entering I naturally looked aloft to estimate the height of the ceiling. On looking up, I discovered that the monotony of the far-extending crystal roof was broken by a number of flags of various nations, suspended at equal dis tances from the canopy of glass above, each bearing the colors and the name of' the people to whom space had been allotted near it; — these flags displaying every color of the rainbow, and requiring only a slight breeze to Tan their silks into movement that the most charming effect might be pro duced. Looking around, I percei ved that the color of the building is that peculiar tint known by the name of French- gray, with some bright colors pleasingly mingled in a frieze of open-work which surmounts the galleries ; crimson velvet and gold beiug the principal style of ornament employed. Then going to the staircases, which are imposing, I found them to be of white stone; and also going to the windows, which run along the wide landings above, I found them filled with stained glass sent in by exhibitors. The central aisle and the transept received from me a close inspection. In the central aisle is a noble fountain of several stages, though not yet glittering with water ; being filled, instead of water, with living flowers. In this aisle also stands a large pyramid of artificial flowers, by Diebitsh, 4* 54 TRAVELS IN FRANCE of Berlin. Again, in it is a colossal mirror of St. Gobin, (5 metres 36, by 3'36,) and colored glass articles and im mense candelabra and chandeliers, these being of extraordi nary beauty. Again, in it is a State carriage, with the arms ofthe Duke of Brabant. Again, it contains a book-case of the Emperor, and an aviary of the Empress, by Tahan. Again, there stands in it a grand pulpit of carved wood, though but indifferently adapted, in my opinion, for oratori cal display. Again, in it are a group, in bronze, represent ing Theseus killing the Minotaur, a Byzantine altar in gilt copper, an immense granite vase, two lofty church candela bra, and a beautiful trophy of arms. Again, in it is the lenticular lighthouse of Sauter. Besides, it contains a model of the meridian circle of Greenwich, with the model of the instrument employed to raise or depress it. As to the tran sept, the main things in it that attract attention are the two stained windows at the end, these being by M. Mearechal, of Metz. One of them represents France seated on a throne of gold. She is appealing to foreign nations and in viting them to come and assemble around her ; two female figures, Art and Science, sitting at her feet, while two male figures, a Shepherd, (representing the East,) and a Black smith, (the West,) complete the composition. On the other window, the principal figure is Equity, holding in one hand the scales of justice, and in the other the seal witti which every producer is to stamp his work ; Art and Science being here again represented at the feet of Equity, (as, in the other composition, at the feet of France,) and the Shepherd and Blacksmith, (figures also entering into the other pic ture,) being placed at the extremities ; while allegorical fig ures of the chief nations of the East and West surround the capital figure. Having inspected the aisle and transept till almost tired with looking at objects of beauty, I now proceeded to make my way through the vast crowd circulating at random through all parts of the edifice. It is only while thus passing around that it is possible to see how exceedingly backward the pre parations still are. Yet there are several things displayed in other parts than those specially spoken of above, that de serve attention ; as certain Tuscan products in inlaying and carving, several articles of jewelry, and gold and silver, (from England,) and some exceedingly rich Indian articles. But, perhaps, there is not anything within the entire area of the AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 55 structure that is more worthy of admiration than the machine of Delarue, of London, for folding envelopes ; a machine that folds these at the rate of two thousand an hour, operating with a precision as marvelous as is its rapidity. Besides, I would add that I looked very closely on the fac-simile of a warrior of the middle ages, on horseback, dressed in plate armor, cap-a-pie, so as to be vulnerable only in the back part of the thigh ; his horse being also similarly protected, even to the covering of the forehead and mane. I will conclude with three remarks, what I have said with respect to this palace for the exposition of the world's indus try. First, the whole affair is yet not anything more than a matter of splendid promise. Secondly, I fear that in the hot sunny weather of a Parisian summer, in spite of all the con veniences for ventilation employed, glass will form a very uncomfortably warm overspreading. And thirdly, it would not be surprising, if, in a city so rich in spectacles as is Paris, the attention of strangers should be so much attracted else where as to be greatly to the injury of the financial interest of this project. Having satisfied my curiosity by a visit extending through several hours, I at length prepared to return to my hotel. It had come to rain in torrents, so that I was not merely wet to the skin, but my skin itself was absolutely drenched before I could find an unengaged carriage. • Having found one, I was soon housed for the remainder of the day, and, after awhile, employed in chronicling the matters and things of which I had lately been a gratified witnesss. I subscribe myself yours, &c, M. F. P. S. — I had several fine views of the Imperial Guard manoeuvring, as on yesterday it returned from the opening of the Industrial Palace. Just before the spot where I had placed myself, several portions of the successive masses as they marched past, broke up into total disorder, and then, in an inconceivably short lapse of time retrieved themselves ; going through the manoeuvre of troops broken in battle, rallying again to face the enemy. This sight was very fine. So, on the field of Waterloo, did the guard, when broken by the Iron Duke, form again ; repelling every attack with a wall of steel, till it was hewn, piecemeal, into bits, when these had come up, by the multitudinous phalanxes of the Prus sians. 56 TRAVELS IN FRANCE NO. VII. Visit to several celebrated Places on Miscellaneous Occasions — The Hotel Apr Inva lids; its Old Soldiers — The Waking of a Veteran — Turenne's Grave — De Vauban'B— Napoleon's — St. Arnaud's— Cannon, &c. — The Hotel de Ville — The Place de Grave, (where a famous Guillotine, &c.) — Julian's Bath, (Fragment of an old Roman Palace) — The Sorbonne — The Garden of Plants — Cedar of Lebanon — New Hotel. Paris, May, 1855. I purpose in this letter to give you, from my notes, some account of my visits on various miscellaneous occasions, to a number of places of deserved celebrity to which I have gone, but as to which I have not said anything, if I recol lect well, in any of the letters that I have yet written to you. Some of these places I have looked at more than once. I ought to say that in visiting them I did not observe anything like the order in which I have put the record of my visits to them in this letter. But, in writing to you in relation to this city I ought not to pass them by ; and it did not fall in with the train of my thoughts to go into accounts of them before. First, as to the Hotel des Invalids. This edifice stands on the south of the Seine, not far from the centre of the southwest quarter of Paris, and not far from the Palace of the National Assembly. Its main front is in the direction of the river,. though out of sight of it. As the visitor ap proaches, a thing that immediately attracts his attention is a number of old soldiers in blue coats, officers and privates, walking about the extensive parade which lies in front. The total number of men in the institution, I learned, amounts to 3200, all of them old and deserving soldiers, who have been admitted partly on account of their services, and partly in consideration of their reduced pecuniary circumstances. The building itself, which was erected by Louis XVI., is of an immense extent of front, (six hundred and twelve feet), and has in its centre a huge door surmounted by an arch. Upon entering this central door- way, and passing directly on, one comes to a large court, shaped like a parallelogram. At that end of this court, which end is opposite to the door of entrance,- stands the church. It is a building at once spa- AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 57 cious, beautiful, and imposing ; its dome being remarkable for its loftiness, being superior in height to the towers of Notre Dame, and to the dome of St. Paul's in London, and only lower than the tower of the Cathedral of Strasburg and the dome of St. Peter's at Rome. This church is adorned with a vast number of flags of various nations, trophies taken in war. And at one time, no less than three thousand such flags were suspended in its dome ; but when the Allies, in the wars of Napoleon I., entered Paris, the invalids burned them that they might not be recaptured. There are still some of those soldiers who served in the Spanish peninsula, or in Russia, or at Waterloo, dwelling in the barracks of the Hotel des Invalids. They are, how ever, very aged. While I was in its church, an aged vete ran was lying there on his bier. His aged companions, as is customary, kept watch in successive parties around him. This sight of the dead veteran was to me, I must say, a very affecting spectacle. In the Church of the Invalids sleep many eminent military men. Beneath its pavement reposes the dust of that great general, the Viscount de Turenne, who -after signalizing himself during forty years in Flanders, Italy, the south of France, various parts of Germany, and in Holland, was killed by a cannon ball, near the village of Saltzback, in July, 1675. In the same place reposes all that was mortal of a man equal in military genius even to Turenne, — a man who was engaged in one hundred and forty actions, con ducted fifty-three sieges, aided in repairing three hundred ancient citadels, and built thirty-three new ones, — the cele brated military engineer, Seigneur de Vauban. Here also rest the remains of Napoleon the Great, — a man whose won derful career of victory no one can appreciate who has not stood at and beneath the Arch of Triumph, erected to com memorate his glory, and to the glory of France, in the Ave nue des Champs Elysees, and who has not reckoned over the long catalogue of his successful battles emblazoned on it. Here has he found repose at length, — the mighty conqueror, the wise legislator, the patron of all sorts of merit, the more than equal of kings and emperors, and, after all, the helpless exile of St. Helena. Under the grand and massy-pillared dome, in an urn of porphyry, were his bones sepulchred in De cember, 1 840 ; while since, as his monument of ages, tlfey have 58 TRAVELS IN FRANCE been sentineled by the statues of twelve victories, hewn out of a single block of granite. Nor does he sleep alone ; for beside him lies the clay of Generals Bertrand and Duroc, — men who had filled near his person, while he was living, func tions of friendship and confidence, and whose remains, in consideration of this, were in 1847, placed beside his. I would also add, that in the church of which I am speaking, the body of Marshal St. Arnaud has been committed to its mother earth ; he having died at sea, on his way home from the Crimea (as you well recollect as to the main fact,) on September 29th of last year, only nine days after his and Lord Raglan's victory of the Alma. I was in the kitchen of the hotel, where no less than three thousand pounds of flesh meat are cooked daily ; each one of the coppers being capable of boiling twelve hundred pounds at a time, and a single spit being capable of roasting at once four hundred pounds. The cooking utensils are all remarkable bright and clean. I was also in the dining apart ments, both of the officers and privates, but unwilling to trespass on the privacy of old soldiers, inspected them only cursorily. The dinner was partly set and everything was neat and comfortable, and in all respects in such order as we ought to expect in connection with such a noble institution. In the broad area in front of the main building there is a number of pieces of cannon ; many of them of bronze, and all, or most of them, trophies captured in war. Many, or per haps all, are kept ready-loaded, so that, when attempting to examine one, I was at once requested not to put my hand upon her. One of these guns exhibited the force with which a cannon ball hits, in a deep dint in the hard metal of the side of its muzzle, into which dint one might readily thrust a part of his head. The number of these pieces is upwards of thirty ; a part of them having been brought from Egypt, (the one with the dint being one of these,) and some of them, (these being distinguished by the Arabic inscriptions,) from Algeria. I ought to add that the Hotel des Invalids has a library of more than 20,000 volumes. Before quitting this edi fice, I would record an inscription, and the more readily as it is brief, which its church contains, in relation to the crucifixion of the Saviour, the sublime simplicity and touch ing pathos of which cannot, in my opinion, be easily surpassed. AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 59 It runs thus : " Mira res ! — Clamabant Judei, Crucifige : cla- mabat Jesus, Ignosce." I will now say something of the far-famed Hotel de Ville, or Town-hall of Paris. This edifice is located on the oppo site side of the river from that edifice of which I have been speaking; lying eastward from it at nearly the opposite side of the city. It is a very large building, of the shape of a parallelogram, and with a pavilion on each of its four angles. It contains the town clock, which is illuminated at night. It is one of the finest edifices in Paris. But the historical associations connected with it, and not its splendor, though it contains much that is splendid, were what were uppermost in my mind when looking on it. On the spot where it stands resided Charles V. while dauphin. Here assembled the authorities of the city through a long vista of generations. It was from one of its windows that Louis XVI. spoke to the revolutionary multitude, with the cap of liberty on his head. In it Robespierre held his council, and it was in it that he and his brothers were besieged. Also, it was here that the Robespierres were captured ; the one with his jaw torn to pieces with a pistol shot, and the other stunned by a leap from a window to the pavement below. And here Louis Philippe was exhibited to the Parisians (twenty-five years ago) as the monarch of the barricades, who would rule the people of France as a citizen king. This edifice belongs, as to the style of its architecture, not to the Gothic, but to what is called the Renaissance ; that is, the style of the ancients revived. We add, that its western front faces the Place de Grave, in which space, as was also the case with the Place de Concorde, a very noted guillotine was erected during the time of the horrors of the first revolution. Indeed, in it was a large portion of the victims executed who were sent to death by the sixty revo lutionary committees that at that time existed in Paris. Also, here, on July 28, 1830, in that revolution that made Louis Philippe king, one of the most severe contests that occurred between the revolutionists and the soldiery took place. I now proceed to say something in relation to Julian's Baths. These lie on the south of the Seine, at the distance of about four blocks from it ; being situated between the Rue de la Harpe, (a long crooked street beginning at the 60 TRAVELS IN FRANCE river, opposite the island in it on which the ancient Lutetia stood, and running south to the garden of the Luxembourg,) and the Rue St. Jacques, (a street which, under different names, runs, right through the centre of Paris, from south to north.) They consist of a long hall of sixty feet in length and of about fifteen in width; the masonry of which is Roman. They are the remains of a palace built by Constantius Chlorus, the father and predecessor of Constantine the Great ; and their antiquity is made to be sensibly apparent to us when we remember that the founder of the palace of which they are a relic, died at York, in South Britain, in a.d. 306. These old baths take their name from the ancient Roman Emperor Julian, (the grandson of Chlorus and the nephew of Constantine,) who, be fore he became emperor, spent several years in Gaul ; being engaged in summer in military operations against the Ger mans, and spending his winters in the palace on this spot ; of which thing he speaks, while, with his pen, (in that still ex tant work of his, M.io-o7twya>v, or the Beard-hater,) bravely defending his philosopher-like facial appendange of a long beard, against the jests of the people of Antioch. On this spot, also, does the history of the ancient world record that a most important revolution had its centre. In the winter of about 359, at midnight, the legions quartered in and about Paris marched to the Palace of the Baths, then in the suburbs, mutinously demanding of Julian to accept the imperial purple at their hands. Time for consideration having been asked, they returned next morning, and taking him up, bore him with drawn swords through the streets of the city, proclaiming him as they went, Emperor. Then, in his new character, he reviewed them in the old Field of Mars. A hall and walls, that are the relics of a palace in connection with which such long by-gone events have hap pened, may safely be affirmed to be the most ancient of all the works reared by the hands of the mason that now exist in this city. This hall is now joined to an ancient Gothic edifice, the Hotel de Cluny, which was in the middle ages an abbey, and then became a palace, and which is now a museum. It is proper that I observe that, though I visited this place upon two occasions, I was not so fortunate as to obtain access to the museum, as it is open only on certain days, and I went at the wrong time. I was, however, per- AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 61 mitted cursorily to examine, or, I should rather say, view the fragments of the Palace of Constantius Chlorus and Julian. Quite close to the architectural remains of which I have been speaking, and occupying a part, I believe, ofthe space, (which was very extensive,) covered by the ancient Roman palace, stands the Sorbonne. This edifice I visited with a great deal of interest ; an interest that was greatly enhanced by the consideration of the vast influence which the faculty that occupied it once exerted. The college or theological institute of the Sorbonne, a name which comprehended the theological faculty of the University of Paris, was in former days one of the most learned, and in many respects one of the most liberal of the schools of the Roman Catholic Church. It was inimical to the peculiar tenets and policy of the Jesuits. It maintained the liberties of the French Church, as decreed by the ordinance drawn up under the auspices of Charles VII. at Bourges, in 1438, and as con firmed and extended, in 1682, by Louis XIV., with the con currence and approbation of the French clergy. Besides, it opposed the now nearly obsolete bull of Unigenitus, issued in 1713; in which some of the plain truths of the Christian religion were set at naught. The present edifice of the Sorbonne was constructed by Cardinal Richelieu, in 1629, whose tomb it contains. I add that the name is de rived from Robert of Sorbonne, near Rheims, a Catholic theologian held in high repute in his day. I will now invite you to take a drive with me as far as the Garden of Plants, which is situated on the south bank of the Seine, near the southeastern limits of the city. I have nowhere seen the size of this inclosure given, but, judg ing of its dimensions by those of the Garden of the Tuileries, I would put it down as being about one and three-quar ters as long as the Garden of the .Tuileries ; as being at one end about one and one-half the width of said garden, and as being about of equal width at the other end. Thus its length would be about one thousand three hundred yards, and its width, at one end, about five hundred, and at the other, about three hundred and twenty yards. It was origin ally merely a botanical garden, but long since it has been rendered illustrative of all the branches of natural history ; containing a noble gallery of mineralogy and geology, a 5 62 TRAVELS IN FRANCE superb cabinet of comparative anatomy, an exceedingly ex tensive menagerie, a varied collection from all countries of all the productions of each ; — all the various animals and plants existing, by artificial means, in that temperature which is suited to their constitution. It has also a library* a mu seum, and gratuitous lectures in the summer months by learned professors. The visitor to the Garden may here be hold all the precious stones that John, in the Apocalypse, describes as garnishing the foundations of the Heavenly Jerusalem ; the jasper, the sapphire, the chalcedony, the emerald, the sardonyx, the sardius, the chrysolite, the beryl, the topaz, the chrysoprasus, the jacinth, the amethyst. He may here behold the Polar bear, the crocodile, and the rare hippopotamus. He may here look upon the palm and the cedar of Lebanon. Not anything in the Garden is, to me, more worthy of at tention than a splendid specimen of the latter-named tree. I speak of the cedar which was planted one hundred and twenty years ago by Jussieu, and which is now so large that, if cut off at the base, it would be four feet across. There it stands, on an elevation, the representative of its family, the monarch-tree among all the denizens of the forest. The Lebanon cedar is a rare tree, and I have not often seen it ; but always, when recognizing it, I look at it with respect. I think of its ever-cheerful and never-remitting greenness, of the vast age to which it lives, of the size to which it grows, and of its fragrance. I think of the mountains of Lebanon, its original home, as they once were, and as they now are ; as they were when it covered their sides with its groves, till two thousand eight hundred and fifty years ago the hewers of Solomon began, on a great scale, to bare them of their stately growth ; as they are in our times, when only about eight or nine hundred of its family, according to the tra veler Mayer, who visited them in 1813, are to be found, so far as he could ascertain, — and of these trees, not more than nine of very great size. Nor are these the only asso ciations connected in my mind with the Lebanon cedar. I always join with the sight, or even with the thought of it, ideas of sacredness. I think of the frequency with which" it is referred to in the Old Testament, to give force and dig nity to that Book's magnificent Oriental figures. One might suppose, apart from the biblical associations that consecrate AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 63 it, that the durability of its wood, (which from its bitter ness is proof against worms, and which has remained fresh, as in the instance of the Temple of Utica, in Barbary, two thousand years,) and its unequaled adaptation to the pur poses of ornament and shade, might have led to its propa gation and cultivation by the hand of human industry. This, however, has not been the case to any great extent. A number is to be found in Witton Park, at Zion House, and in some other places in England ; and a few are to be met with in France and Italy ; and, besides these, there are some others in various countries ; but, I believe, very few, and these small, in the United States. Thus it is that its rarity makes it, when met with, a matter of considerable curiosity, and especially to an American. And if an ordi nary Lebanon cedar be a legitimate object of curiosity, how much more Jussieu's ? Certainly, no stranger should visit the Garden of Plants without going to the mound on which this cedar stands, and taking a look at it. Not one of the least pleasing things, in connection with the Garden of Plants, is the illustrious men who have been, or are, con nected with the administration of its affairs. Among these, are Guy de la Brosse, (the physician of Louis XIII.,) Duffay, Buffon, (the celebrated naturalist and author,) Vaillant, Jus- sieu, Cuvier, and many other eminent men, — some of them living, and some dead. I will conclude this epistle by a short reference to a mammoth hotel which is about being put up in the neigh borhood of the Palace of the Louvre. This hotel, which is unfinished, and which is to be called the Hotel of Europe, I have lately been round to see. It is a vast block of itself, and it is asserted, upon reliable authority, that it will contain no less than twelve hundred rooms for strangers ; these being to be classed according to their nations. No wood enters into its construction, iron being used as a substitute for it ; so that the lodger in the sixth story, and the lodger in the basement one, are equally safe. Yet, with all this, I must say that I felt disappointed in its external appearance. Indeed, I thought that in the United States I had seen hotels quite as imposing in their outward aspect, that have not anything more than a local celebrity. I subscribe myself yours, &c, M. F. 64 TRAVELS IN FRANCE NO. VIII. Proper soon to close Notes on Paris — Burial-places — Abelard — Places in the Environs of Paris, &c. Paris, May, 1855. I suppose that by this time you are becoming tired of my descriptions of this great city. I have written so much in relation to it that perhaps I had better be now done with the subject as soon as possible. In what I will further say, I will therefore be, or at least endeavor to be, very brief. In this letter, I will take the liberty of taking you along with me while rambling at large in the environs. Every great city has not only its living inhabitants, but it has also its dead : and for the dead there must be places of repose. These places of rest for the dead were formerly, in Paris, in the interior of the city, ahd especially in and about churches. But, on account of the unhealthiness of crowded graveyards in the midst of a vast population, the custom of interring in such places was abolished ; and in the beginning of the reign of the first Emperor, four ceme teries beyond the inhabited districts were established. Of these, that of Pere la Chaise, just beyond the Barriere des Amandiers, is the most celebrated. In it the first grave was opened at no later time than in 1804. At that time, it con tained a little more than forty acres, though now it contains near to one hundred. It is laid out in graveled walks, and ornamented with shrubs and flowers. The ground is very uneven, and so high that from it one has a magnificent view of the city and environs. But what interests me most, is the number of celebrated persons that sleep within its walls ; something like eight of Napoleon's marshals, a large num ber of literary men, and many other distinguished persons. It is also distinguished for the number and beauty of its monuments, more than two hundred millions of francs hav ing been expended, in about forty years in this. manner. Among these is conspicuous that of the celebrated Abelard and Heloise ; which is formed out of the materials of the AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 65 Abbey of the Paraclete, on the Upper Seine ; which had been the oratory of Abelard, and of which, subsequently, when it had been converted into an abbey, Heloise became the first abbess. On their tomb, he is represented in a re cumbent posture, with his hands joined on his breast, be side him being the figure of Heloise. These persons, "loving in their lives, and in death not divided," had originally been buried, side by side, in the Abbey of the Paraclete, where their ashes remained undisturbed till 1800, when they were carried to the Museum of French Monuments in Paris, and thence, in November, 1817, they were conveyed to a chapel within the precincts of the Church of Monamy, and thence to this spot. Here, after the lapse of seven centuries, when the graves of so many of their contemporary kings have been forgotten, does "the pale marble" still keep fresh in the minds of successive generations the memory of those ar dent but unhappy lovers, indicating, age after age, to loiter ers among the tombs, the patch of earth, according to their wish — " Where one kind grave unites each hapless name, And grafts her love immortal on his fame." I am aware that there is a difference of opinion about it, but, for myself, I must say I think that where a man's or woman's bones rest, there, and there only, is it in good taste to build the dead one's monument. Yet, in the case of Heloise and Abelard, even though their ashes were absent, the monument erected to them would have vast interest, since those stones long witnessed the presence, both while living and when dead, of those whom they have been so gracefully piled up to commemorate. I ought to observe that it is only a part of Pere la Chaise that is decorated with marble tombs, in honor of those who sleep beneath. Besides its fifty thousand monuments, — many of these very magnificent, — a part of the inclosure is devoted to tempo rary graves, whence, after a few years, the bones are re moved to the catacombs under the city, and a part is used for mere common ditches into which the poor are put, to be removed after the lapse of a still briefer time. Nor has this vast graveyard been a stranger to the vicissi tudes of war. When, — after having defeated and cut up the 5* 66 TRAVELS IN FRANCE French,' under Marmont and Mortier, at Fere Champenoize, on the 24th of March, 1814, the Emperor Alexander, of Russia, with his Guards, having been present, — the Allies advanced on Paris, a severe battle was fought between them and the French, on the subsequent 30th. While, in this battle, one main point of attack was the the height of Mont- martre, directly to the north of the city, (those heights on which, in 978, Otho II. caused his army to sing, conjointly, a Latin canticle, in order to give effect to his German boast, that he would go to Paris and make music loud enough for the whole city to hear it,) another salient point of mur derous contact was the burial-ground of Pere la Chaise, on the E.N.E. Th& French loop-holed its walls, and esta blished in it batteries. On the other hand, the Russians sought to dislodge them. This led to three terrible conflicts among its valleys and slopes ; the graves and tombs of the dead, meanwhile, being freely watered with blood.. At length the Russians proved victorious. With respect to this cemetery I will only add, that it took its name from the Confessor of Louis XIV., the man under whose influence that monarch revoked the edict of Nantes, Pere la Chaise, who there, in his day, owned some property. We will now direct the driver of our carriage to take us to St. Denis, about seven or eight miles of a pleasant drive by the Canal of St. Denis, and through a beautiful country. Beautiful was the day on which, through this district — a dis trict through which, a little earlier in the year than this, forty- one years ago, Cossacks were galloping as thick as swarms of bees — I made my way to that ancient and well-built town. With respect to it, I will only speak of its church and abbey, the only things in the place, that I saw, that are much worthy of note. The church is a Gothic edifice of 415 feet in length, and 106 in width, and is adorned with two towers and a spire. It is the most ancient church in France ; the first step toward the erection of it having been taken as early as 240, when a chapel was built, where it stands, over the remains of St. Denis and his companions in martyrdom. While it was still a chapel, King Chilperic, in 580, interred in it one of his sons. Subsequently Dagobert, (of the Me rovingian race,) transformed the chapel into this vast church, — which, however, he left in an imperfect state ; and in it himself was buried, in 638. Several, also, of the Carlovingian AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 67 race of kings here found a sepulchre ; and all the kings of the third race, from Hugh Capet, who died in 996, to Louis XV., who died in 1 774, were here entombed. But, — a thing revolting to the best feelings of humanity, — in the revolution of 1789, these vaults were not left undesecrated ; the poor remains of so many mighty kings having been rudely, and by vile hands, carried away from the spot of earth in which ought to have been their last resting-place. In the October of '93, the kings and queens of France were brought from their vaults under the choir and arranged around the walls of this church ! The bodies of several, we are told, as of Henry IV. and of Louis XIV., were in such a state of pre servation that they could be recognized with perfect cer tainty. And, after having been exhibited as a melancholy spectacle to beholders, and as a lesson as to the vicissitudes of human affairs, — the question of the manner of their dis posal having been decided in a stormy debate in the national legislature, — the remains were cast promiscuously into a pit, while the leaden coffins which had contained them, were melted down for bullets ! How hard a thing is human na ture, and especially when it can hide its brutality in a crowd I I ought to add to what I have said of the dese cration of the royal vaults, that Louis XVIII. regathered the dust and bones ofthe old kings from their pit, and, con joining with them the relics of Louis XVI. and his family, (from the cemetery of the Madeleine,) had all here again in terred in the ancient royal burial-ground. The fine buildings of the abbey are now used as a house of instruction ; five hundred young orphan ladies, all related to members of the Legion of Honor, being here educated, — and four hundred of these gratuitously. Anciently, the Abbe of this old religious establishment was a man of such consequence that he had the king himself for a vassal ; he holding of him in fief, as we learn in the history of France, a small territory called the Vexin. Also, under his care was that banner brought, by angels from heaven, in the reign of Clovis, the sacred oriflamme, at the unfurling of which the feudal retainers of France used, in olden times, to rally around the monarch in great emergen cies. With respect to the country around St. Denis, I observe that it is exceedingly beautiful and quite level. In the reign 68 TRAVELS IN FRANCE of Charles IX. this ground became the scene of a severe bat tle between an army of Huguenots and the royal army under the Constable Montmorenci, — in which the Huguenots were worsted, but not till the adverse party had lost their gene ral. Passing rapidly over it in the direction of Paris, we soon reached the gate of St. Denis and the Triumphal Arch there erected, in 1672, in honor of Louis XIV. ; one of the finest monuments in this capital. Nor were we long in reaching our hotel. I will occupy the remainder of this epistle with accounts of two of my afternoons ; one spent at Vincennes, and the other at Versailles. First, I will ask you to drive out with me for a stay of an hour and a half at Vincennes. This town, which contains nearly four thousand inhabitants, lies nearly four miles to the east of Paris, being approached by a long and magnifi cent avenue. To the south of it lies the Wood of Vincennes. This wood is as unlike a primitive forest as can well be con ceived. It is laid out in beautiful walks, and in its centre nine roads meet ; while on the spot where these meet an obe lisk stands, having a globe on the top and bearing inscrip tions, — with the date of 1731, as that to which the plantations are to be traced back. To the north of these plantations, and between them and the town, lies the Chateau de Vincennes. This chateau began to be a regal residence about the year 1200, in the reign of Philip Augustus. But the beginning of the present edifice does not go back beyond 1337. In the time of Louis XI. (about 1475,) the lower part was con verted into a State prison ; and the vaults where the impri soned suffered, and especially the room of tortures, (la salle des Questions,) are still to be seen, — that is, so far as dark ness can be seen, — the room of tortures being totally dark. In this chateau resided numerous kings, and in it died the miserable Charles IX., of St. Bartholomew celebrity. In it also resided Henry V. of England, that powerful and wise monarch who, in addition to his own kingdom, was declared heir to the throne of France ; and in it he died. But not only did kings reside in it : also many illustrious men have in it been kept' as prisoners. In it, — among many, very many, whom we cannot stop to name, — was confined the Prince de Conde ; in it was immured, and died, (in 1721,) Marshal Ornano ; in it was imprisoned the Duke de Ven- AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 69 dome ; in it were detained Diderot and Mirabeau ; and at it was the Duke d'Enghien shot : in a spot which the guide does not show without being asked for it, at the angle of a wall round the foundations of this palace of his ancestors, in a remote corner, a place neglected and out of the way, did this hapless and injured young soldier, on the 20th of March, 1804, find his death and grave. This chateau is now used as an armory u»l a depot of artillery. I will now ask you to spend part of an afternoon at Ver sailles in my company. This town lies on the very opposite side of Paris from Vincennes, at the distance from Paris of ten miles. This distance, however, is actually nothing, as the town is reached by two railroads. It is the most beau tiful place in the environs of the French capital, and the most worthy of a visit. The town, however, beautiful as it is, is eclipsed by the palace in it, which, in many respects, is un- equaled. This town was the birth-place of the distinguished republican general Hoche, — after whom a fine street and square have been named, and to whom, in the Place Hoche, a statue has been erected. In it the treaty between France and England, by which an end was put to the war of Ame rican Independence, was signed ; and in it, on the 7th of May, 1789, were the States-General brought together, — that body which subsequently, and indeed very soon, became transmuted into the National Assembly. But that which mainly takes the stranger to Versailles is its. palace. This palace, which is now a historical museum, was reared by Louis XIV., who is said to have expended on it forty millions of pounds sterling. In 1792 it was greatly injured by the Parisian mob, which here was guilty of great excesses ; but, since, it has been repaired and restored by Na poleon and Louis Philippe, — particularly by the latter, who expended on it fifteen millions of francs. It is more than 800 feet in length, and contains, — in addition to the great gallery of 232 feet in length, 30 wide, and 37 high, lighted by 17 great windows, — eight magnificent saloons adorned with statuary, paintings, and architectural embellishments. This palace is said to contain ten thousand pictures. Among the paintings are histories of the military career of France from the time of Clovis, her first Christian king, down to >;he conquest of Algiers ; the figures in these being of the size of life. One apartment, already referred to, La Grande 70 TRAVELS IN FRANCE Galerie des Glaces, is, in all probability, the largest and hand somest room in the world. Also, the vast gardens, the noble orangery, and the park, belonging to this royal mansion, cor respond to the magnificence of the edifice with which they are connected. In them the beauties of art and nature, in the ut most variety, are to be met with. There, are to be met with in profusion, and distributed with taste and discernment, basins and sheets of water, water-jets aad cascades, statues, vases, and columns, (all these by the most eminent artists,) and wind ing avenues and alleys, extending among grass-plots, beyond sight ; and these things are set off to the utmost advantage by terraces at once beautiful and grand, and by the noble facade of the chateau itself. So much, at the tail of this letter, for a part of an after noon spent amid the magnificence and beauties of Versailles. I conclude my epistle by subscribing myself, Yours, &c, M. F. P. S. — I have in this letter spoken of the bones of Louis XVI. and Maria Antoinette being interred in the royal burial-place at St. Denis. I would observe that, instead of this, many people believe them to be built into one of those chapels of bones in the catacombs, under the city ; into the structure of which chapels the bones of the persons who per ished by the guillotine, from 1789 to 1830, have been made to enter. However this may be, it is pretty certain that the bones of Robespierre, of Madame Dubarry, and of Charlotte Corday, are now in the catacombs, — being sup posed to be built into the Chapelle Expiatoire. NO. IX. Visits to Cburches — French Catholic Church-going — The Madeleine — The Pantheon — Notre Dame— Pope's Kobes— Protestant Churches— French Sabbaths— A Protestant Sermon. Paris, May, 1855. I purpose in this letter to give you some account of some of the various churches that I have visited in this great city, AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 71 and also of the manner in which I have spent a couple of Sabbaths ; and let me remark that the religious edifices dedi cated here, and the same is true elsewhere, by Roman Catholics to religious worship are, in proportion to the population adhering to the Roman Catholic division of the Christian world, few in number when compared with the number of edifices set apart to the worship of an equal Pro testant population in Protestant cities. It is on this account that the Romanist churches in Paris are so distinguished for their costliness; and what enables them to get along without any very great number of temples of worship is, each church is opened early on the morning of each Sabbath, and as soon as one service ends another begins, till long after the close of daylight, — one officiating priest succeeding another till the time arrives when the doors are closed for the day. Thus, the same edifice accommodates jn one day many congregations. Thus, also, though the audience may appear thin, the number of worshipers in a church from early in the morning till late in the evening may be considerable. The first church which I entered in Paris was that of St. Germain l'Auxerrois, which stands contiguous to the Louvre. Of it I have spoken in a former letter ; I will there fore now pass it by. I will confine what I say to the four Catholic churches of the Madeleine, the Pantheon, Notre Dame, and St. Roche ; and, in connection with these, say a word or two in relation to some of the Protestant churches. The Church of the Madeleine stands at no very great dis tance from the Obelisk of Luxor, which is in the Place de la Concorde, and opposite the main front of the Emperor's palace. Its south end is toward a short street extending north from the place just spoken of, while its north end faces a street named the Rue Tronchet. One portion of the edi fice is toward that celebrated street which occupies the ground which once contained the walls of Paris, the Boule vards. All the streets around are at once highly respecta ble and well built, though by no means equally so. It is worthy of being noted that it was here, on the Boulevard de Madeleine, that, on a dark chilly night iu June, 1804, the two celebrated generals, Moreau and Pichegru, met to arrange with Cadoudal their conspiracy against the consu lar government and Bonaparte its chief. The structure of 72 TRAVELS IN FRANCE the Madeleine stands on an artificial platform, elevated to give to it due dignity. The visitor, when seeking to enter the interior, goes up, in order to reach the level of the floor, a long flight of steps. First, he stands on the broad sum mit of the platform, and then advancing a brief way he reaches a colonnade of eight vast columns. He now stands at the south end of the edifice, where is its principal entrance, which looks in the direction of the Place de Concorde. The doors are 32 feet in height by 16| in width, being of bronze, and having carved on them, (in a manner almost perfect,) several scriptural subjects. When these have been passed, the interior is discovered to correspond with what the visi tor has been led to expect. It is a vast nave, and spacious choir, lined with rich marbles, the ceiling being gilt and supported by majestic pillars. The sculptures and paintings are greatly admired. One painting on the ceiling is particu larly worthy of notice : in it the Saviour, with the Magda lene by his side, is pictured, surrounded by his Apostles and many of those whose names are associated with the history of the Christian Church ; the Magdalene kneeling on a cloud which is supported by three angels, who, while they support the cloud, exhibit a scroll on which is written, " Dilexit multum," (she loved much.) The visitor now goes around the exterior of the church, which is surrounded entirely by Corinthian columns of huge size, but admirable in their proportions, there being between these columns niches in which statues of saints are placed. And this leads me to remark that there are no windows, their places being filled by the statues spoken of; and, to compensate for the absence of windows, the edifice is lighted from the roof. This roof is entirely composed of iron and copper ; nor has any article of wood been employed in the construction of any part of the building. I would further add, in relation to this edifice, that its length is given at 328 feet, and its width at 138 ; that it has the form of an antique temple ; and that the colonnade going around it consists of eighteen columns on each side and eight at each end. This church, which stands on the site of the old Church of la Ville l'Eveque, was begun in 1764. Not being finished at the breaking out of the revolution of 1789, the work was then sus pended ; and it was not recommenced till 1808. Before this, however, in 1806 or 1807, the idea of recontinuing the bro- AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 73 ken off work was entertained by Napoleon, then the head of the*French government, and in the height of his glory ; and, in consequence of this, plans from architects were invited to be proposed. On these plans when proposed, the Emperor made, in 1807, as we learn from one of his biographies, the following comment: — "After having attentively considered the different plans submitted to my examination, I have not the smallest doubt as to which I should adopt. That of M. Vignon, alone fulfills my wishes. It is a temple which I desire, not a church. What could you erect as a church which could vie with the Pantheon, with Notre Dame, or, above all, with St. Peter's at Rome ? Everything in the temple should be in a chaste, severe, durable style. It should be fitted for solemnities at all hours and times. The imperial throne should be a curule chair of marble. There should be seats of marble for the persons invited, an amphi theatre of marble for the performers. No furniture should be admitted but cushions for the seats. All should be of granite, of marble, and of iron. * * * Not more than $600,000 should be required. The Temple of Athens cost not more than one-half of that sum. In the Pantheon, $3,000,000 have been absorbed. But I should not object to the expenditure of a million of dollars for the construction of a temple worthy the first city in the world." In accord ance with these directions was the work recontinued. Soon, however, the disasters of the Russian campaign, followed by the invasion of France by a million of soldiers sustained by another million of bayonets in reserve, again interrupted the progress of the undertaking. Little, henceforward, was done till the reign of Louis Philippe, when it was completed in its present style. As to the Pantheon, I remark, that it stands to the south of the Seine, in that part of Paris which is, I believe, inha bited by the least fashionable part of the population. It stands at some distance to the east of a long street which, under different names, crosses Paris nearly from south to • north, and which is here called the Rue St. Jacques. Around it there is an open space called the Place de Pantheon. Nearly on the other side of the street, at some distance to the west, are the palace and garden of the Luxembourg. The shape of this celebrated church is nearly that of a Greek cross, that is, a cross of that form in which the upright beam 6 74 TRAVELS IN FRANCE and the transverse one are of equal lengths and united at their middles. Its main entrance is approached by a fligh% of steps, and before it are six immense fluted Corinthian co lumns of sixty feet in height and six in diameter. The great est length of the edifice in one direction is 288 feet, and in another 252. It is surmounted by three concentric domes, the height of the highest of which is 282 feet; or, perhaps it would be more proper to say, it is surmounted by a dome composed of three concentric cupolas. The interior is not easily paralleled ; its proportions, its innumerable columns, and the multiplicity and richness of its ornaments, being ob jects worthy the admiration of all beholders. This part of the building is divided into four main divisions or distinct places that are or may be used as places of worship. The ornaments of the Pantheon (I attempt to speak of only one or two of these) are, first, the figure with a crown of stars around its forehead, which meets the visitor outside above the main entrance ; this figure representing France distributing rewards to her eminent men, while History and Liberty, each appropriately employed, sit at her feet. Close by this allegorical figure are represented several persons illustrious in their various spheres, — the preacher, the pain ter, the senatorial orator, the mathematician, the naturalist, and the most consumate general of France or perhaps of almost all history, and, with proper impartiality, by him the little drummer of Arcole. This ornament does not belong to the edifice viewed as a church, but as the pantheon of French greatness. Next, inside, the effect of the beautiful sim.ple ceiling, which is supported by a range of 130 splendid co lumns, is pleasing in the extreme. Also the painting visible up in the dome, which the strong light up there shows afar off, is well worthy of notice. It cost 100,000 francs, and besides, the painter was knighted. But there is not anything connected with the Pantheon more worthy of inspection than the vaults beneath. These equal the whole extent of the church. Nor are they so damp and unhealthy as one would suppose beforehand. In them repose several very eminent persons. Of those interred in them I may name Bougainville, one of the circumnaviga tors of the globe ; Lagrange, the eminent mathematician and the author of the Mechaniquej" Analytique ; and Benjamin Constant the distinguished statesman and orator. Here AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 75 also are the mortal remains of Marshal Lannes, Duke of Montebello, a soldier who distinguished himself at the battles of Millesimo, the Pyramids, Austerlitz, Jena, Eylau, Fried- land, Tudela and Saragossa, and who at last fell at Aspern. Here are the ashes of Rosseau, the man of genius and sensi bility, and at the same time the propagandist of immorality and infidelity. Here, besides, are the ashes of Voltaire, the greatest of French writers ; great as a prose writer, a poet, and a wit ; great on account of the extent of his knowledge, the versatility of his genius, the ease with which he gives words to his thoughts, the exquisiteness of his taste, and the brilliancy of his imagination ; but, along with all these noble qualities, too often the propagator of the principles of irre- ligion, anarchy, and libertinism. Along with these distin guished men, (men famous in all lands and in all times,) in neighboring tombs lie buried many others, noted in secular and ecclesiastical life in their day, but the memory of most of whom has almost faded away everywhere else except among those gloomy recesses which inclose their ashes. In sarco phagi in these vaults, also, at one time lay the bodies of Ma rat, the most execrable and blood-thirsty of the men of the revolution of 1789, and Mirabeau, dissipated and flagitious, but the great orator and leader of the popular party in the National Assembly. These idols of their political parties, however, were soon depantheonized. Though the populace had assisted in burying both with great pomp as national benefactors, it ere long changed its humor, dragging forth the remains of the former and casting them into a common sink, and dispersing the ashes of the latter in the air with every mark of ignominy. I had almost forgotten to mention that there is a whispering gallery quite close to these recep tacles of dead men's bones ; that we had experiments made in it in our presence of the distance to which whispers, in other circumstances, inaudible, may be heard, these hushed voices sounding not merely as full as the original voice to a person close beside the whisperer, but immeasurably louder ; and that our guide raised a pistol which he fired and which made every recess and corner of the vast cellared space to ring with the amplified and accumulated concussion, while the first report called forth so many successive reports, (echoes of the first report or of each other,) that it might well be supposed that a dozen pistols had been discharged instead of one. 76 TRAVELS IN FRANCE This noble temple of worship stands on the site of an old abbey, that of St. Genevieve. The first stone of it. was laid in 1764, and, as I mentioned above, the cost of erecting it was no less than three millions of dollars. Having told you all that I intended to say of the Pan theon, I will now give some account of the Church of Notre Dame, a church which is the continuation of one erected in the reign of the Roman Emperor Valentinian, which one was the first edifice of Christian worship in Paris. The pre sent edifice is in the French-Gothic style, and was begun in 1160, the first stone having been laid by Pope Alexander III., at that time a refugee in France. The main work of the erection of the building, however, was done by Philip Augustus, who reigned from 1180 till 1223. Yetit was not fully completed till about 1420. It stands at the eastern point of that one of the isles in the Seine, to which island the city in very ancient times had been mainly confined, its chief front being towards the west. It is in its shape cruci form, its extreme length being 390 feet, and its extreme width at the transepts, 144 feet. Two wide aisles run the whole length of the interior from west to east. Along the sides, and indeed from all parts of it, chapels, (to the num ber of 54,) branch off, the larger ones of these being used for worship on ordinary occasions, and not the main body of the church. Its two square towers at the main front, with their huge bell which it requires eight strong men to put in motion and which is only rung on solemn occasions, its ele gant lateral doors, and its magnificent and skillfully sculp tured portals, externally ; its immense organ, its four rows of grand columns, its admirable polished iron railing, between the nave and the choir, its beautiful carvings, sculpturings, and paintings, its arches, and the boldness of its vaulted roof, in ternally ; — all these, in connection with its great gloomy win dows that give barely light enough, contribute to bestow on this church that capability for exciting a blended feeling of admiration and awe, that it possesses. I visited it on two occasions. On the former I was shown the rich sacerdotal robes worn by the Cardinal Archbishop of Paris on very great occasions ; the robes worn by the Pope when he crowned Napoleon I. ; the rich and very massive golden ser vice for the administration of the Eucharist, presented by Na poleon to the church ; and, along with these, a part of the AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 77 skull of the late Archbishop of Paris, who perished in the civil commotions during the time of the late Republic, the hole made by the bullet, (which was also shown,) being visible. On the second occasion there were a religious service and a sermon in one of the chapels, at which I was present. The officiating clergyman was a large powerful man of somewhat rustic appearance, but an eloquent speaker ; and his audi ence was as large as the railed-off portion of the church in which he officiated could conveniently hold, and it was at tentive. Numerous are the historical transactions which the old Gothic walls of Notre Dame have witnessed, a few of which transactions I may mention. When it was yet far from be ing finished, (about 1304,) its walls looked on a piece of medi eval devotion very foreign from our modern notions. I re fer to the thanksgiving made in it by Philip the Fair for his victories over the Flemmings. On that occasion, that monarch rode into it on horseback, booted, spurred, and fully accoutred, and, in this queer devotional dress and attitude, expressed his gratitude before the high altar. Fifty years subsequent to this, on this altar a wax taper burned for four years, without extinguishment, in sorrow for King John made a prisoner by the Black Prince at the battle of Poitiers, and carried to England. Next we would note that it was in this edifice, if we err not, that Henry VI. of England, celebrated for his gentleness and his misfortunes, was, at nine years of age, crowned King of France. Passing over a long lapse of years, here, at the close of 1793, was witnessed one of the most impious proceedings on record. On that occasion an opera girl of abandoned character, in the character of God dess of Reason, was elevated, naked, on the high altar, by He- bert and his associates, — she being thus presented to all good Frenchmen as an object of worship, while, at the same time, the rule of Deity was, in all proper senses, publicly disavowed* and renounced. Also, nine years later, this building was the scene of another grand ceremony not lacking in absurdity, at which Napoleon Bonaparte and his grenadiers were as- sis*ting ; I speak of the re-inauguration of the Christian reli gion in France. Then, in two years, followed this, in the same edifice, (amid the shouts of the multitude, the roar of ' cannon, and the sound of five hundred instruments of music,) the coronation of this Napoleon, by the hands of the Pope. 6* 78 TRAVELS IN FRANCE Subsequent to this, we will only notice that great prominence was given to Notre Dame in connection with the revolution of 1830, that revolution that raised Louis Philippe to the throne. On that occasion, on the morning of July 28th, the revolutionary flag was raised on its towers as early as nine o'clock, while it was not raised on the central tower of the Hotel de Ville till eleven. And, moreover, it was close by it, at the north end of the Bridge of Notre Dame, that one of the severest contests of the revolution of 1830 took place. However, neither the Madeleine, the Pantheon, nor Notre Dame is the most fashionable of the Catholic churches in Paris. This distinction belongs to St. Roche. Indeed, the worshipers in Notre Dame are an exceedingly plain-look ing people, and the same, I believe, is true of the worship ers in the two other churches named. This church, (St. Roche,) stands on the Rue St. Honore, a little west of north of the Tuileries, and immediately in their vicinity, and in that of the Palais Royal. It was commenced by Louis XIV., but was not finished till a little more than a hundred years ago. Its portal, with its long flight of steps, and its two ranges of columns, has quite an imposing aspect. In ternally, it is very spacious, .the length of the building particularly being very great. Its pulpit, or tribune, some of its chapels, and its pictures, are worthy of very special attention. Yet, after all, it may be remarked, that rich ness and brilliancy too much supersede the serious and re flective style suited to a temple of worship. St. Roche has, by a great deal, the largest congregation of wealthy wor shipers of any place of worship in Paris ; and the pomp of its ceremonial, and excellence of the singing and music, are beyond danger from rivalry. In the time of Louis fhilippe, it was the court church. In it the celebrated Corneille lies interred. There are two historical incidents connected with this edifice which I should not pass by. It was from it that the hapless Maria Antoinette was led to execution. Besides, it was from before its portal that the youthful Napoleon leveled his guns, when, in the days of the Directory, he swept with grape the insurgent sectionaries from the thoroughfare of St. Honore. Both of these transactions are matters never to be forgotten. Before leaving the subject of churches, I will say a few words, and only a few, in relation to the Protestant churches. AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 79 The best of these are, that of the Oratoire, which is quite close by the palaces of the Louvre and Tuileries ; that of the Visitation, not far from where stood the old Bastile ; and the Chapel of the English Ambassador, in a small and unpre tending street, and not at any very considerable distance from his mansion. As to the British Ambassador's chapel, I was disappointed. It is a substantial building, but that is all ; being neither remarkable for its size, its convenience, its location, nor the beauty of its architecture. Indeed, the only thing remarkable about it is, that, in contradistinction to what prevails almost universally in French churches, it is pewed ; while French churches have the aisles marked out by chains, and the persons worshiping in them sit on chairs. I have often heard that French Sabbaths are days entirely devoted to pleasure. Travelers have said that the day of- rest is, in Paris, the chief day of dissipation and amusement. No doubt this is the case, to the full extent, in many points of view, of what has been so often asserted. And in con firmation of it, I would mention, that the race-course around the Champ de Mars is crowded with spectators on almost every Sabbath, when the weather will permit ; and that races are here regularly run for the amusement of such as choose to attend ; also, theatres, and other places of diversion, are open. Besides, reviews of the troops are very frequent on this day. But, with all this, those who choose, may spend quiet Sabbaths in France, as well as in Britain or America. For myself, I must say, that the Sabbath of Paris has been as quiet to me as, in similar circumstances, it would be in any American city I would mention that, on my two Sabbaths here, I have gone to Protestant worship three times, twice on one Sab bath and once on the other ; having been prevented from attending a second time on the latter Sabbath, by making a mistake as to the hour. I also attended, (once, on each of the two Sabbaths,) at Catholic churches, — once in Notre Dame where I heard, as I mentioned above, a French ser mon, and once at another Catholic church, where mass alone was celebrated. As to the sermons in the Protestant churches, I do not think that they were distinguished for very great ability, though all the preachers spoke so as to leave the impression that their pulpit efforts were not merely professional, but also from the sincerity of the heart. One 80 TRAVELS IN FRANCE of the preachers was preaching, I suppose, with a view to an approaching celebration of the Lord's Supper. In the dis course which he delivered he urged strongly the duty of partaking of the communion ; inculcating on his hearers that God, in speaking to man, uses the relation of parent and child, as being that in which the affections on both sides are purest, to illustrate the attitude in which he stands toward those who sincerely worship and obey him. He argued, on this ground, that the communion cannot be in tended to entrap us into sin ; and that only he who is sen sible of dishonesty in approaching to it, is forbidden to come ; no impediment being in the way of any one but what would forbid prayer. All the Protestant ministers whom I heard preach, preached in English. It is also worthy of remark, that an individual stands at the door of the British Ambas sador's chapel, who charges each person that enters, for his seat, something like half a dollar. I think this was about the amount charged, though, not having before been aware of it, in the hurry of paying, when several persons were about entering, I might easily have made a mistake as to the exact sum. I add no more at present, but subscribe myself, &c, M. F. NO. X. Wood of Boulogne — Wellington's Army — Dueling — Military Events, &c. — Labienus— Normans — English — The Fronde — devolution of 17S9 — Russians and Prussians British and Prussians — Revolutions of 18J0 and 1848 — Coup d'Etat — Fortifications. Paris, May, 1855. I sit down to write you what I purpose to be a very brief letter. In the' first part of this letter, I will give you a brief account of my visit to the Wood of Boulogne, and will then fill up the remainder of my sheet with some short ac count of a portion of some of the military transactions that have, in ancient and modern times, occurred in connection with Paris and its environs. The Bois de Boulogne lies to the west of Paris, just be yond the two villages of Anteuil and Passy. On the day AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 81 when I visited this wood, I first spent some time in viewing a body of soldiery, which was about being reviewed in the Champ de Mars. I need not say that the spectacle was beau tiful, for the French military always appear to advantage. Es pecially did I admire a troop of cavalry of the Imperial Guard, all the soldiers belonging to which were mounted on beautiful Arab steeds. Indeed, the cavalry present was all very fine. There was one thing, however, that I remarked as seeming to me to come short of what I expected. When a portion ofthe cavalry, which had dismounted, was ordered to horse, it was frequently the case that, in mounting, they held each other's horses, while I had supposed that horses and men would have been so habituated to the exercise, that none would have thought of having recourse to any such expedient; each man preferring to make his way into, the saddle, unaided. Then, leaving behind me the vast expanse of the Field of Mars, (which is about five furlongs in length, and between two and. three furlongs in width,) with its wide avenues, its trees, and its sloping terraces, and, above all, with its huge and grand overshadowing edifice of the Parisian Military School, — a field the scene of so many brilliant fetes, — I passed over the Seine, and, entering an omnibus, soon reached the vicinity of the Wood. That beautiful grove is one of the greatest places of re sort in the neighborhood of this great capital. It is beau tifully laid out in walks, whose cool shades protect from the sun in the heat of summer. One thing, however, that de tracts from its beauty, in my view, is the smallness of the trees. These are not larger than one meets with in the up lands of the southwest of the United States, where the coun try is liable to be burned over at recurring periods of no very long duration, and cannot, for a moment, be compared with the trees in the river-bottoms of the South, or in the forests of the Middle and Northwestern States. And this is the case, not merely with these woods, but with all the woods of France that I have seen, and I have seen somewhat of several of them ; and, among others, a little of the forest of St. Ger main, — at Whose trees I looked with considerable attention. Nor will the fact that, from July to September, 1815, the army of the Duke of Wellington was stationed there, — when it cut down such trees as answered its purpose for barracks, — entirely account for the smallness of the present 82 TRAVELS IN FRANCE growth, since forty years have elapsed since that time. Yet, with respect to the magnitude of these trees, one should re member that all things are great or small by comparison. This wood is remarkable in several respects. It has been rendered classical by the frequent mention of it in numerous romances. Again, it has, at various periods, been the grand place of display on the part of the fashionable world, being at such times enlivened, to a very extraordinary degree, with beauty, wealth, and grace, and with the presence of gay equipages and horsemen. Again, it was long celebrated as a dueling-ground ; the crack of pistols, and the clash of steel, having as often awakened echoes among its morning solitudes, as in any other locality in the world. And again, it was through its main avenue that, in the days of simpli city and credulity, pilgrims passed on their way to the old Convent of Longchamp, hard by, — a convent founded by Isabella, the sister of St. Louis, and in which she lived, died, and was buried, and in which two other princesses of France died and were buried, (Blanche, the daughter of Philip the Long, and Jeanne of Navarre.) I must now pass to some of the military events that have occurred in connection with this capital and its immediate vicinity ; to which I promised, when beginning this letter, I would make some allusion before closing it. The first military event in connection with Paris, of which we have any account, occurred while Julius Cassar was car rying on his wars in Gaul, and while the town was confined to that island in the Seine now called La Cite, the town itself being then named Lutetia Parisiorum. On this occa sion, after overcoming great difficulties, Labienus, one of Caesar's lieutenants in these wars, inflicted, on the south bank of the Seine, a severe defeat on the Parisii, whose capital Lutetia was. These things happened a little more than fifty years before Christ. Next, in or about the year of our Lord 359, it was here that that portion of the Roman army was lying, which, because commanded by the Emperor Constantius to march against Persia, rose in arms against him, and, electing their Gene ral, Julian, head of the empire, in his stead, carried the newly-elected Emperor with drawn swords through the streets of the town, to the Field of Mars, where the trans actions of the day were concluded by the soldiery being re viewed. AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 83 Next, about a.d. 383, — when in consequence of his zeal against heathenism, Gratian had lost the affections of the army, while Maximus had ingratiated himself with it by his professed zeal for heathenism, — it was under the walls of Paris that that revolt occurred in the legions commanded by the former, which proved fatal to his life, but which ele vated the latter, for a time, to the dominion of a good part of the Roman world. No military event, of any considerable consequence, in connection with Paris, occurred for more than four hundred and fifty years after the revolt against Gratian, till at length, in the year 845, the Normans sailed up the Seine and took the town, being induced to depart only by a bribe of seven thousand pounds weight of silver. And, forty years after, in 885, we find them again besieging it, and only induced to depart by another bribe of a large sum of money. Between five and six hundred years after these Norman invasions, we find it in the possession of the English, who, in 1437, while the mild and gentle but irresolute Henry VI. filled the throne of England, were finally expelled from it. Something more than two hundred years later yet, we find Louis XIV. compelled to leave it in consequence of the civil commotions of the Fronde ; during which commotions a se vere battle, between Marechal Turenne and the Prince of Conde, was fought, in the spring of 1652, in the eastern part of the city. From this time, no foreign invasion nor civil disturbances gave any great uneasiness to the Parisians till the revolu tion of 1789, when their city became the theatre of innu merable tumults, conflicts, and battles. Nevertheless, they did not yet see the smoke of the camp of a foreign enemy ; neither had such a sight been witnessed by them for more than three centuries and a half. But, though in the times subsequent to 1789, they came to have at the head of their armies a military man as great as the world had ever seen, Napoleon Bonaparte, they at length had to subject them selves to the humiliation not merely of beholding the camp- fires of alien and hostile armies from the towers of their churches and from the tops of their public edifices, but of looking on such fires kindled in their most magnificent streets and squares ; yea, of looking on the Cossacks even drying their dirtily-washed shirts on the iron railings of the Tuileries. 84 TRAVELS IN FRANCE The French people had been carrying on hostilities with all the great nations of Europe from 1792, with only occa sional interruptions, down to 1812 ; and in every war had been almost invariably successful. In this year their Em peror marched into Russia at the head of the most superb army of soldiers that ever followed a single man. But France miscalculated the powers of hyperborean cold ; and though her legions were almost always victorious in battle, of 400,000 men who went to Russia, not more than 50,000 survived that one campaign. This was followed by the rising in arms against her of the nations of Europe, which had long been prostrate at her feet, so that 1814 witnessed a force of 1,208,000 grim warriors in the field to subdue her. At length did these myriads of bayonets cross her frontiers. And after numerous severe battles, fought with varied success, as early as March 24th a strong force of the invaders had reached to the northeast within eighty miles of her capital. In these circumstances, on the day just named, at the village of Fere Champenoize, a battle was fought in which the French under Marmont and Martier were totally defeated ; the Emperor Alexander being present with his guards. Six days after this, on the 30th, the Russians under Schwartzen- berg, and the Prussians under Blucher, amounting to 120,000 men, had come quite close ; having kept in their advance to the north of the Marne and Seine. On the French side there were 30,000 men with 150 cannon. On the day named, a conflict took place. This conflict though severe was inde cisive ; the Allies, however, were so far successful as to force the heights of Montmartre directly to the north of the city, which was carried by the Prussians ; while the Russians suc ceeded in carrying to the E.N.E., the high ground covered by the Cemetery of Pere La Chaise. Then Paris capitulated, and the conquerors, — the Bourbons returning in their train, — took up their quarters in the most splendid streets and ave nues of this proud capital. I myself have seen since I came hither, a huge fire burning in the Champs Elysees, kindled by soldiers, where during those times the Russians had one; and this within the distance of two or three musket shots of the Tuileries. Soon the old Bourbon race were again expelled from France. Soon Napoleon had returned from Elba. Then, ere long, he had been defeated at Waterloo. And now, .(a AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 85 second time as it relates to the armies 'of the powers allied against France,) the British and Prussians marched upon the metropolis of their enemy. This time, instead of the north and east which had been strongly fortified, the city, which was defended by Davoust with 60,000 men, was threat ened on the south and west. After some contests, and es pecially after the failure of Vandamme, with 10,000 men, to secure possession of the village of Issy, (which'lies only about one and a half or two miles south of the Champ de Mars,) Paris again capitulated. Since its second occupation by the Allies, this capital has been the theatre of two revolutions, — that of 1830, when Charles X. was overthrown, and that of 1848, when Louis Philippe was expelled from the throne. And since this lat ter event there has also turned up a popular insurrection against the authority of the Republic which the lately suc cessful revolutionists established ; and, besides, the coup d'etat of December, 1851, has taken place, in which Louis Napoleon defeated the Parisians and subverted the Chamber of Deputies, thus re-establishing the Empire. What next may be evolved by Providence in connection with the mili tary history of Paris and its environs, no human sagacity can presume now to guess. One thing is certain, that should it ever be again attacked, it will be found capable of a very ¦vigorous defence ; Louis Philippe having during his reign erected a very strong chain of walls, forts, bastions, and towers, extending all around it at the distance of a few miles from it, with barracks connected with them, capable of con taining a very effective garrison. Yours, &c, M. F. 86 TRAVELS IN FRANCE NO. XI. Departure from Paris— Female Ticket Agent— The Eoad through the. Cordon of Forti fications— Amiens and River Somme — Abbeville — Battle of Crecy — Boulogne — Hotel kept by a New Yorker — Caligula and Army — Claudius — Constantius Chlo rus — Attila — Normans — Napoleon I., Camp, and Flotilla. — Scheme of Invasion — Napoleon III., &c— Old and New Towns — Squares — English Schools and Churches — Napoleon Column— Camp of 40,000 men, (visit to) — French Farming. Boulogne, May, 1855. Yesterday, after an early breakfast, I took my farewell of the Hotel de la Bourse, making my way to the depot of the Northern Railway ; this depot being situated in the northern part of Paris, near the Barriere de St. Denis. Hence I took my passage to the ancient city from which I write this let ter. One thing on which I may remark, is that the person en gaged in supplying tickets was a lady, and this at one of the busiest railroad depots in the vast capital which I not long since left. And why should not women with you keep the books of merchants, as they very frequently do in the cities of this country, and transact such other business as their strength is equal to ? The consequence of this prevailing usage is that in the cities here women are much better paid, taking into view the general rate of wages, than in the United States. Perhaps I may mention, in connection with what I have just remarked, that in Paris a servant girl gets about five hun dred francs per year ; a kitchen girl more ; and that some chamber-maids get (wages, and trifling sums from persons waited on, together,) as much as two thousand francs per year. In about three-quarters of an hour after having reached the railroad depot I was on my way, following at the heels of the iron horse. First, Montmartre was passed lying to the left ; then the enceinte, or enclosure, of Paris ; then the vil lage of Saint Ouen, the ancient residence of King Dagobert, situated- along the Seine at some distance to the left; and next came a railway station which is quite near a small railway bridge over the St. Denis Canal, from which station there is a fine view of the Seine and its islets on the left, and of the Fort de l'Est and of the city of St. Denis on the right. Immediately after leaving this station behind, the train AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 87 passed between St; Denis and the Seiue ; and then it rushed through between two strong fortifications, one near the bank of the river, and the other to the north of St. Denis, these fortifications being part of that cordon of strongholds (some thing like twenty in number) that now encircles Paris. The two most important cities between Paris and Bou logne are Amiens and Abbeville. Of both these cities I may say, from others, a few things. Indeed, I would have liked to spend some time in each, but the thing was incon venient. Thus having only a sight of them, without any opportunity of personal inspection, I must depend in what I say, not on myself, but on other sources of information. Amiens was the ancient capital of Picardy and is the capital of the modern Department of Somme. It is situated about ninety miles from Paris, contains a population of about 50,000 persons, stands on the River Somme, which is navi gable up to it for barges of fifty tons, and, to the eye of the passing stranger, is a fine-looking city. Those familiarly acquainted with it describe it as distinguished for its old citadel built by Henry IV., for its literary and scientific in stitutions, for its noble antique cathedral, for its museum, and for its industry and manufactures. Besides, it is a place that has given birth to several eminent men, as Peter the Hermit, (the apostle ofthe Crusades,) Ducange, and Delam- bre. Also in the history of days quite recent it is well known as being the city in whose Town-house, in 1802, the short lived peace of Amiens was signed. Abbeville is about twenty-five or thirty miles from Amiens, lying below on the same river with it. It is a fortified town, is noted for its industry, and contains a population of about 18,000. It was in the castle of this town that, about a.d. 1064, Guy, Count of Ponthier, the lord of this region at that time, for awhile confined Harold, (afterwards the last King of England of pure Saxon blood,) who had fallen into his power in consequence of his shipwreck on the neighbor ing coast. Another thing strongly associated, in the minds of the readers of English and French history, with this place, is the battle of Crecy, fought in August, 1346, about seven or eight miles to the north of it, on the Plain of Crecy, be tween Philip VI. of France and Edward III. of England. In Abbeville, Philip and his army spent the night before that disastrous conflict, in which 40,000 Frenchmen were slain ; 88 TRAVELS IN FRANCE the English army beiDg completely victorious, though in conceivably inferior in everything, except courage and discip line, to the French host in the field. Also, when mentioning the battle of Crecy in connection with Abbeville, I may re mark that another great battle was fought sixty-nine years after not very far from it. I speak of the battle of Agin- court, fought in October, 1415, whose battle-ground lies about thirty miles to the N.N.E. Toward evening our train reached this city. With re spect to the country through which we passed, I observe that it is fertile and well cultivated, though tame and lack ing in picturesqueness. Indeed, I saw nothing thaf could contribute to bestow picturesqueness on the scenery except the numerous spires of the country churches, and the nume rous windmills that, in the absence of water-power, ornament the hills on all sides and in all directions. Not a single mountain was to be seen in the whole distance ; while, for a considerable distance, in one part of the way, the ground is exceedingly low and even marshy. Having, toward evening, as I have just said, arrived at Boulogne, (in which I am now writing,) I soon found myself settled for what time soever I would chose to stop here, in an excellent hotel, kept by an American. This man told me that he had been born in the northeastern part of the State of New York, where his father had resided, but that about the time of the Revolu tion in America, the family, of which he was a member, had passed to the County Kent in England, whence he had come over to Boulogne. He told me he had still many relatives in the State of New York, about whom he inquired; but, having never been in any part of that State except the city and its immediate vicinity, I could not give him any information in relation to them. I would remark that the only time, while in France, that I dined at a pub lic hotel-table was here, several officers from the camp hard by (of which I will in the after part of this letter say some thing) being present. This city I have taken the time and pains, as in the cases of Havre and Paris, and to some extent of Rouen, to exam ine fully ; and I will continue to turn the beautiful weather, which the God of the seasons is now causing to smile on town and country, to good account, so long as I stay, which will not be very long. AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 89 Boulogne is very ancient. It has borne a variety of names. In the reign of Claudius, (which began about the middle of the first century,) as we learn from the geographer Mela, it was called Gessoriacum. Some time subsequent to this, about the middle of the second century, when the Greek geographer Ptolemy flourished, it bore the kindred name of Gessoriakic. And later still, about the beginning of the fourth century, in the time of the Emperor Constantine, it. was known by the appellation of Bononia. It was for a long period the chief continental port of embarkation for the British coast, and was a chief Roman naval station. To go somewhat into detail with respect to the more important facts, and the leading personages, whose memory is associ ated with its history. It was from its neighborhood that, about the year 55 B.C., Julius Caesar sailed to invade Bri tain ; the port from which he took his departure on this ex pedition lying about ten or twelve miles from it, northward. Next, about sixty years after, seven years after the crucifix ion of the Saviour, it was on the heights close by this town that Caligula encamped an army of 100,000 Roman soldiers with the fruitless purpose of invading the barbarians of Bri tain. It was on this occasion that the worthless Roman commanded his soldiers, while the signal of battle was sounded, to fill their helmets with shells from the sea-shore, rapturously exclaiming meanwhile, " This booty ravished from the ocean is fit for my palace and the Capitol." Next, it was from this harbor that Claudius — afterwards surnamed Britannicus — set sail, when, four years after, embarking for the island just named. We now pass over a long period, 276 years, (during the lapse of which time it was the main port for the embarkation and the disembarkation of the legions passing to and fro between Gaul and Britain,) and come down to the reign ofthe Emperor Diocletian, when, to guard against the pirates of Germany, a powerful Roman fleet, under Carausius as admiral, was here stationed. These pirates had been in the habit of plundering the coasts of Gaul and Britain, and it was the duty of Carausius to pre vent their robberies ; but instead of preventing them from robbing, he chose to intercept them when on their return home with their booty, thus enriching himself. To pun ish this dishonesty the Emperor ordered that he should be put to death. Upon this, he rebelled, fortified Boulogne, 7* 90 TRAVELS IN FRANCE and retired to Britain with his fleet. Britain he erected into an independent sovereignty ; nor was he destitute of the means of defending his assumed power. It was in these circumstances that Constantius Chlorus, (father of Constan tine the Great,) the Imperial General, laid siege to this city which he was able to capture only by putting a mole across the harbor; a success that aided materially in the re-con quest of Britain. Next, in the fifth century, Boulogne is said to have witnessed the presence of Attila, (the scourge of God,) and of his Huns, who were here successfully repelled. Next it was attacked by the Normans in the ninth century, who laid it waste. And next, after the great battle of Bou- vines, fought in the August of 1214, it had to submit to the mortification of seeing its brave lord, the Count of Boulogne, thrust by Philip II. , (who then filled the French throne,) into the Tower of Piron, in which he was confined with a great log fastened by a chain around his waist. Nor in times more modern than those in regard to which I have been writing, is this city unknown in history. It became incorporated by purchase, in the reign of Louis XL, (who reigned from 1461 to 1483,) with the territories ofthe national monarch ; previous to this time having, with the district dependent on it, been merely a countship. Between a dozen and a score years after this, about, we find it be sieged by Henry VII. of England ; and, forty or fifty years later, we find it besieged and taken by Henry VIII., who only consented to give it up after eight years should have passed, and on the condition of having received a hundred thousand crowns a year during those years. From this time down to the occurrence of that stupendous event, the first revolution, it sank into almost historical oblivion. Then, however, in connection with the schemes of Napoleon, as Consul and as Emperor, for the invasion of England, it arose into vast importance. In 1801, an army of 100,000 men was here assembled by him, and, at the same time, a vast flotilla of gun-boats was made ready by his orders, to waft across the thirty miles of channel separating France from South Britain, this vast military array. Nor were the British disposed to submit themselves passively to be invaded. Admiral Nelson attacked the flotilla with his fleet, to destroy it, and it was only after a fight of sixteen hours' duration that he withdrew from the harbor of Boulogne. Again, on AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 91 the 16th of August, he renewed his attack with a vast fleet of boats in the night, and it was only after a conflict of many hours' duration, maintained in darkness, with axes, cutlasses, pikes, pistols, and all other instruments of hand-to-hand fight, that in the morning he again retreated. These military and naval preparations having been put aside by the short peace of 1802, Napoleon, upon the resumption of hostilities in 1803, established himself here again for a considerable time, devoting himself to the assembling and organization of the greatest and most complete military expedition that ever had being. This expedition was also intended against Eng land, and the preparations in connection with it were con tinued unintermittingly till the August of 1805, when the whole affair came to a close. The force, which was to make its way across the strait, was to consist of 150,000 men, 10,000 horses, and 4000 cannon, these being intended to be ferried over in 2000 gun-boats; while an army equally powerful was to occupy the vacated camp of Boulogne as a reserve. The vessels assembled for the enterprise were moored at the quays within sight of where I sit, nine deep. Yet, amid all this assemblage of armed men and arms, such was the dread of British daring resting on the mind of the French Chief, that, to guard against night enterprises, each vessel was fas tened to the shore by a strong chain. The success of the vast undertaking, the preparations in connection with which I have been describing, was supposed to depend on the turn ing up of one of four contingencies. In the Strait of Dover, in summer, there are often dead calms of forty-eight hours' duration, in which large vessels cannot move, and it was believed that in one of these the flotilla might pass over. Again, it was thought that in one ofthe thick fogs of winter it might accomplish the enterprise. Again, it was calculated that it might safely put to sea upon some occasion when the English fleet had been disabled and scattered by a tempest. Or, again, it was conjectured that, by sending to the French fleets, in all parts of the world, sealed orders to rendezvous on a certain day in the waters contiguous to Boulogne, a temporary naval superiority might be obtained which would last long enough for the invading armament to reach the opposite coast. At the cost of a hundred gun-boats and ten thousand men, Napoleon conceived that in one or other of these ways the project of invasion was practicable. Yet, 92 TRAVELS IN FRANCE after all, he never attempted to put it in execution. And what a scene must the country around this city have exhibited when the orders arrived for the breaking up of the vast camp ; one single hour sufficing to put the entire 150,000 men in it into motion, with their artillery and entire campaign equipage! From the breaking up of the camp formed against England down to 1840, this old town was abandoned to the most complete seclusion from the affairs of the great world. But in that year Louis Napoleon, now Emperor, (the son of the ex-King of Holland,) made at it a revolutionary attempt on France ; an attempt remarkable for little else, apart from the present celebrity of its author, but its calling forth a touching appeal by his aged father with a view to save his son's life. Also, it was here in the September of last year that the Bel gian King, Prince Albert of England, and Napoleon III., (the Louis Napoleon of 1840,) held a very important friendly conference. I would also add that during last summer, in consequence of the cabals of Prussia, a large camp was here established; a circumstance well adapted to call up remembrances ofthe palmiest days of the first Napoleon. While I walk around the streets and about the harbor of this very ancient city, as I ramble along the roads and over the fields and high grounds in its vicinity, I am scarcely able to realize that I tread soil once trod by Cassar and Agricola ; by the Emperors Caligula, Claudius, Severus, Constantius Chlorus, and Constantine the Great ; by Attila, and by Na poleon ; and yet such you will perceive is the historical fact. The streets of a great part of Boulogne are quite narrow and very crooked. This, however, is by no means the case with regard to the new part of the town. But it has so hap pened, in my ramblings, that I have almost always gotten into the old-fashioned streets. Of these some are very steep, yet they are generally substantially built. The things in the town, that are perhaps most worthy of notice, are two quite respectable-looking squares, ornamented with fountains ; a number of French-English boarding schools, in which there are many pupils from England ; a college, a museum, and an old feudal citadel. The old citadel, though there is not anything very grand or distinguished about it, is well worthy of being attentively looked at. The number of English boys who are, in this place, going to school, — and schoolboys can here at any time be readily distinguished by their dress, — is AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 93 surprising ; though this is in part accounted for by the fact that there is here a resident English population so large that, for its accommodation, there are no less than six Eng lish churches. I have walked out to see the column erected to Napoleon, to commemorate his vast project of invading England. It is about a mile from the city. It is 164 feet high ; and the Emperor, appearing to one standing on the ground as large as life, stands on the top of it, with his back to England and his face to Paris. From the hill on which this column stands, as well as from the lofty ground on which the upper town is built, the English coast is distinctly visible, though I could not see it : perhaps a slight haze in the air pre vented me. I believe that it was from this place that it is recorded of Napoleon, that he looked across on the green hills of England. About two miles farther on is one part of the Camp of Boulogne. This camp at present contains 40,000 men. But I ought to say that the Camp of Bou logne is, in reality, two camps, one on each side of the city, — ¦ each of the two being situated about three miles from it. That which I visited, (the one beyond the column to Napo leon,) contains about 20,000 men ; and the other, of course, about the same number. When I went thither the soldiers were marching out to engage in work in improving the roads ; French officers always seeking to keep their men gently busy, both for the sake of health and of discipline. The men were in their fatigue dresses, and looked the very embodiment of quiet hardihood ; — not large men, but bone, muscles, strength, and agility. The camp itself is laid out like a city ; it has long and very broad streets which, all along, have small houses on each side of them. Between the town and the camp are the quartersof the higher officers ; and these con sist of a substantial and large building, or buildings, which look very plain, but which are in handsome order. The houses of the soldiers in the camp are mostly built of mud, and thatched, though still they seem — though quite small — very convenient and comfortable ; and they were erected by the soldiers themselves, who have not failed, in their con struction, to show the diversity of their ideas and tastes : some putting up mere shanties of the better sort, and others quite neat and comfortable cottages. In this camp the neat ness, industry, and thrift of the French soldier appear to 94 TRAVELS IN FRANCE great advantage. It is evident, if he love fighting, that he also loves comfort. I have traveled not a little, on foot, by the roads, (which, I would here remark, are frequently paved in France,) and through the cultivated country around this city, and I must say that I have been impressed very favorably, in some re spects, as it relates to French farming ; but, on this point, I will not say anything till I shall have seen the farming of England and Scotland. Yours, &c, M. F. NO. XII. Passage to England — Intercourse Between France and England — Folkstone — Romney Marsh — Fanning — Hop-raising — Appearance of Country — View of Sydenham Crys tal Palace — Hotel in London. London, May, 1855. My last letter was addressed to you from Boulogne, but you will perceive by the name of the place which I now put- at the head of my sheet, that, since, I have changed both the city and country of my residence. I passed over the Channel to Folkstone this morning, the passage being made by our steamboat in between two and three hours. The weather was very fine. No one can conceive anything more beautiful than the gentle undulations of the sea, nor any thing more pleasant than the moderate yet warm sunshine beating upon us. The vessel was filled with English, mainly of the aristocratic class, returning to their own country from France. The truth is, the inhabitants of no two States of the American Union have so much intercourse, it seemed to me, as the people of the opposite coasts of France and England. Having so lately stood on both these coasts, I cannot just now help, as I take a retrospect of my journey, the recalling of the language of Virgil with regard to the people whom I have lately left, and, again, with re spect to that people among whom I now find myself domi ciled. In his days both nations were the very rudest barba rians, and were supposed to dwell, the one at the extremity AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 95 of the inhabited globe, and the other beyond that extremity. Of the dwellers in the district around Boulogne, then called the Morini, he speaks as if they lived at the world's jumping- off place, Extremique hominum Morini ; * * * while the inhabitants of Britain he describes as a race of men disjoined from all others, -Et penitus toto divisos orbe Britannos. But how prodigiously have things changed since the Man- tuan bard penned the language quoted I Now Britain and France are the centre of the civilized earth ; and a nation equally civilized with either has grown up beyond the mys terious waters of the Atlantic. And what is now the com parative position of the bard's classic land 1 Folkstone, which is situated in the English County of Kent, contains a population of between six and seven thou sand. It is five miles from Dover, along the coast toward the W.S.W. ; and is deservedly noted as the birth-place of Harvey, the discoverer of the circulation of the blood. I stopped there about an hour or an hour and a half, and then the train by which I was to travel was rushing onward toward the banks of the world-renowned Thames. The distance by railroad between it and London is about eighty- five miles ; about sixty of the way being through the County of Kent, and about twenty-five through the County of Surry. Not far from this town, from the top of the hilrs on which is the railroad, I had a fine view of the famed Romney Marsh. It had been pointed out to me before, while on the water crossing from France. A resident in the neighbor hood described it to me as nearly twenty miles long by nearly fourteen wide ; but other accounts describe it as con taining no more than fifty thousand acres ; so that it cannot be, by any means, so large as this person supposed it to be. It lies about six miles from Folkstone, to the left of the railroad to London, and is secured against the sea by an immense embankment. This tract is noted for its rich sheep-pastures, and for its crops of extraordinarily fine white wheat ; as, also, the chalk-hills, from which I looked down and over at it, are celebrated for producing a fine 96 TRAVELS IN FRANCE small-sized red wheat. While speaking of wheat-producing lands, I would say that about Sandwich, about eighteen miles north from Folkstone, are said to be the best wheat lands in England. As to Romney Marsh. I would only further observe that it was not always the rich tract of land that at present it is. Originally it was a mere black swamp, with a little black river flowing through it; (that river up which, in the reign of Alfred the Great, the fleet of Hastings the Danish pirate, — a fleet so powerful, as historians tell us, that it amounted to two hundred and fifty vessels, — ascended ; when in said marsh he built an inaccessible fort, the secure receptacle, for many years, of the booty and plunder col lected by him and his wild followers in their various success ful marauding expeditions.) Capital, skill, and labor, ope rating, combined, on that which contained the undeveloped rudiments of fertility, are -what have made it the rich gem that all esteem it now to be. With respect to the country along the Folkstone and London Railroad, lying, as I have already said, in the counties of Kent and Surry, I observe that it is exceed ingly beautiful ; the fields moderately large, smooth, and en closed by quick-set hedges ; and the farm-houses and farm- buildings, and also the cottages of the laborers, well built and comfortable. One thing, however, that struck me very unfavorably, as I passed, was the very great number of malting-houses along the road. They seemed, without par ticular pains, uncountable. From this we may infer that the temperance reformation here has either not been urged on the attention of the country people at all, or advocated on principles very slightly radical. I may mention with respect to Kent, that it is the great hop-raising county of England, considerably more than twenty thousand acres being devoted to this use ; which is between one-half and one-fourth of all the land allotted to this purpose in the entire area of South Britain. This county is also distinguished from other Eng lish counties by the circumstance that the old Saxon custom of gavel-kind is still here kept up, the real estate of a parent being equally divided among his sons. The part of Surry through which the railroad passes pretty much corresponds in its appearance to Kent. At length, toward evening, the town of Sydenham, eight miles from this great metropolis, appeared in view, with its AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 97 immense palace of glass far outstripping in vastness the Parisian Crystal Palace. And in an exceedingly brief time we were in the depot, not far from London Bridge. I soon, with my trunk, found my way to the hotel from which I write this history of to-day's travels ; taking up my quarters on the Southwark bank of the river, and not far from the far-known bridge that I have above named. I prefer some such place to any other, because I have learned from experience that there is a great advantage to a stranger, in a great city, in his residing near some noted place or ob ject, as he is thus provided, when about rambling around, a something, should he lose himself, with which almost all are acquainted, for which he may inquire. Upon this account, quite as much as on any other, have I taken up my lodgings where I am staying. Yours, &e'., M. F. NO. XIII. Extent of London to the New-comer — Crowding in some Streets — Traveling on the ¦ River — First Historical Notice Of — Saxon Capital — Charters — Boat on Thames — Tunnel — Excursion up to, &c. London, May, 1855. I will, in this letter, mainly refer to some of the things that first engaged my thoughts, or that first happened to me, after entering this vast metropolis. Sights are on every side, but some things make impression on a new-comer in preference to others. One thing that struck me very forcibly, when, after my arrival, I had come to move about through its various quar ters, was the immense extent of the city; I mean of London taken in the most comprehensive sense of the word, and not merely ofthe city proper. Just think of a city containing very considerably more than two and a quarter millions of peo ple, — almost all of whom are thrifty and prosperous, — and covering one hundred and twenty-two square miles. Soon after my arrival I ascended to the top of the spire of St. Paul's, and in all directions was a vast unbounded expanse of 98 TRAVELS IN FRANCE brick and smoke. The vision, on every side, was bounded only by houses ; — it was not anything, as far as the eye could reach, but slate or tile roofs, chimneys, spires, the masts of ships, or chimneys of steamboats, and, along with all, innumerable pillar-like clouds of smoke circling upward. Indeed, before me lay not merely a city, in the ordinary sense of this term, but a large province thickly crowded with dwellings, warehouses, dockyards, churches, mansions and palaces, and lanes and streets. Again, soon after entering London, I was struck with the crowds in some of the great thoroughfares. The throng poured along unceasingly. One, at first, would have sup posed that it would soon have gone past; but, from morning till night, it was the same thing. This, however, is the case with only some of the streets. The busiest streets in Paris seemed comparatively empty beside the busy streets of Lon don; — indeed, I know not anything like it except Broad way, in New York; and even it is perhaps behind, as to crowds, some of the streets in London, especially those that lead to or from London Bridge. An idea of this crowding may be given by mentioning a single piece of statistics; that, every hour, on an average, without counting the my riads of foot-passengers, thirteen thousand wheeled vehicles pass over this bridge, most of them being carts or heavy wagons. Again, another thing that early drew my notice, is the use which the Londoners make of their river. Their store houses, unlike Paris, — where, through the whole length of the city, a street extends along on each side of the Seine, which is handsomely cased with stone, — are built on the very edge of the river; and thus no one can have a view of the Thames except when on it. But to compensate, in some degree, for this defect, and a very great eye-sore it is, it is covered with small steamers, starting every few minutes, and carrying passengers to each and every point for the merest trifle. The Thames is thus converted into a cool and agree able avenue of one thousand feet in width, and a journey on it is certainly vastly more agreeable, cheaper, and more rapid, than in either an omnibus or a hackney-coach. As to the early history of this metropolis, now so great and so far-famed, I observe that it is mentioned, for the first time, in the Annals of Tacitus. Speaking of the revolt of AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 99 the heroic but unfortunate Queen Boadicea, in the year of our Lord 62, he says " Suetonius, undismayed by this disas ter," (the destruction ofthe Roman colony of Camalodunum, . — now Maiden, — and the subsequent rout of the Ninth Le gion,) "marched through the heart of the country as far as Londinum, a place not honored with the title of a colony, but a main residence of merchants, and a great mart of trade and commerce. At that place he meant to fix the seat of war ; but, reflecting on the scanty numbers of his small army, and on the fatal rashness which had been dis played by Cerealis," (the commander of the legion that had been routed,) "he resolved to quit that station, and, by giv ing up one post, to secure the rest of the province. Neither supplications, nor the tears of the inhabitants, could induce him to change his plan. The signal for the march was given. All who chose to follow his banners were taken un der his protection. Of all who, on account of their advanced age, of the weakness of their sex, or of the attractions of the situation, thought proper to remain behind, not one escaped the rage of the barbarians. The inhabitants of Verulum, a municipal town, were in like manner put to the sword. * * * The number massacred, in the places which have been mentioned, amounted to no less than seventy thousand persons, all citizens or allies of Rome." After those convulsions had passed, the town was rebuilt. We know little, however, about it till after the Saxon Hep tarchy had become merged in a single monarch, when it be came his capital. ., At the Norman invasion, it was here also that, in imita tion of the Saxon kings, William the Conqueror fixed the seat of his power ; building the Tower, and granting the city a char ter yet in existence. Subsequently the First Henry revoked this charter ; but, while doing this, he granted a more liberal one, which is said to have furnished the model for Magna Charta. In the long and sanguinary wars of the Roses, — extending from 1452, when the Duke of York, having returned from Ireland, began to aim' at political sway, or perhaps from 1454, when Henry VI. took the field to restore himself to the supreme power, till 1485, when Richard III. lost his crown and his life in the battle of Bosworth, — the posses- 100 TRAVELS IN FRANCE sion of this city, next to the throne, was the grand object of contest between the struggling parties. In the wars between Charles I. and the Long Parliament, the City of London was the chief support, in all fortunes, of the cause of the Parliamentarians. I would only further add that during all vicissitudes, from the times of the Romans to the present day, — in spite of fire and pestilence, — it has, with some few exceptional pe riods, been, step by step, growing in extent, grandeur, and wealth, so that now it is the largest and most important city in the world. Indeed, it now contains an aggregation of wealth, and an amount of population, equal to those of all the large cities of the United States put together. *I will take up the remaining part of this letter in giving you an account of an excursion that I took, on yesterday, on the Thames; in connection with this excursion, visiting the Tunnel, and then ascending the river to the parks in the Westminster end of the town. Taking my course, quite early, over London Bridge, and passing, as I had been directed, down the stone-steps on the lower side of this bridge, I engaged a Thames ferryman, (he being almost, I believe, a last relic of the once numerous class to which he belongs,) to carry me to the Tunnel. This work is two miles below the bridge, and as the tide, which was against us, would in a short time be in our favor, we rowed along very leisurely, passing close by the Traitor's Gate of the Tower. From the river this gate, which was the entrance by which State prisoners were brought, in. a barge kept for the purpose, into the fortress, has the appear ance to the eye of a bridge. By it how many distinguished persons, in the days of ancient stern rule, were taken in to imprisonment and death ! Two ponderous water-gates opened, and the unfortunate man was at the mercy of the reigning monarch; a hard fate when the government of England was a despotism, and when not anything else but a despotism was possible. But it was not the sole use of this gate that it should be the means by which access from the river should be had to the fortress. The Tower was, in former times,. encircled by a broad moat filled with water; and the water necessary for this purpose was supplied from the Thames, by the narrow throat arched. over, with respect to which I am speaking. Over this throat or gate, which AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 101 is now walled up, stands a large square building ofthe reign of Henry III., called St. Thomas's Tower. Having leisurely surveyed these things, we passed slowly on. Then we passed close by St. Katharine's Dock, and next by the London Dock, instruments of commerce unsurpassed, — perhaps I ought to say unequaled, — in the world. Having arrived in the part of the river opposite the Tun nel, we went ashore on the Surry side. Having made fast our boat and gone through a considerable distance of tough slime, we ascended the bank and entered an enclosure. Upon the payment of a penny, the visitor passes through a turnstile, with which is connected an index to count pas sengers, to a place where a wide shaft descends, and, going down by circular stairs to the depth of a hundred steps, finds himself at one end of a double roadway of a thousand or eleven hundred feet in length, and lined with brick-work. Each one of the two parts of this roadway, which are only separated from each other by a strong supporting partition, is fifteen feet in height and twelve in breadth. Only one of these parts has been put into a state fit for use ; nor is the other half of the roadway needed. I sauntered from one end to the other of the vast cylinder a number of times, and, during all the time I stayed, did not meet with a single human being passing through except a Chinaman. There were, in addition to myself and the Chinaman, the boatman, and several persons attending to stalls for the sale of fancy articles, but all else was perfect stillness. The place is damp, and is said to be unhealthy. As a pecuniary specu lation it is a total failure. On certain occasions, however, vast multitudes have resorted to it. This was the case when it was visited by the Queen, and also when, in this subma rine tube, a year ago, pony races were held. I would add, in respect to it, that this very difficult undertaking was be gun by Sir Isambert Brunei, a Frenchman, in the March of ] 825, and that it was opened to the public in the same month of 1843. We now sought our boat to pass up the river, designing to go up as far as the Parliament House. On our way we witnessed a severely contested boat-race, the prize for which the contest was had being a very fine new boat. While ascending toward my point of destination, I took occasion to inspect the Custom-House, which lies between the Tower 8* 102 TRAVELS IN FRANCE and London Bridge. Thence I passed on up the river, un der London Bridge, next under Southwark, then under Blackfriars, then under Waterloo, and next under the Sus pension Bridge, and so at length arrived at Westminster Bridge, at the upper edge of which is the new Parliament House. Of this vast, splendid, and perhaps too elaborately decorated edifice, I will, in this place, barely say, that its front next the Thames, after the fashion of Venice, extends quite into the water. Here, quitting the boat in which I had been rowed up, I passed in a direct line along the street running west from the bridge last named, and in a few moments was in St. James's Park. This is a beautiful green of between eighty and ninety acres, containing a fine sheet of water, in which are two islets covered with trees and shrubs; while aqua tic birds of all sorts (among these birds black swans ap pearing conspicuous) sport on the liquid expanse. Di rectly west of this park, and perfectly contiguous to it, is Green Park, of seventy acres; keeping on through which, in the same general direction as before, by merely passing across the end of Piccadilly Street, I came to the edge of Hyde Park, of four hundred acres. It was now time to pause for a while. The weather was warm for England at this season, and in consequence of my multifarious ramblings I felt tired. I might, therefore, well seek rest for a brief moment, and so sat down in one of the seats provided for persons in circum stances like my own. Close by where I happened to take a seat stands Apsley House, the town-residence of the Duke of Wellington. An equestrian statue of his father, the Iron Duke, stands on the street before the door, so that the house cannot be easily mistaken. Of course I looked at it very intently; associated, as it is, with the memory of a great soldier and statesman, and one of the most celebrated of historical persons. It is neither remarkable for its size nor its architectural beauty, but rather for its solidity and plainness. One of the wealthy merchants of the great cities of the United States would not view it as more than a re spectable home ; indeed, many of them dwell in larger and more showy mansions. Yet this mansion became the man who dwelt in it; an edifice, strong, handsome, plain, suffi ciently capacious, and of solidity enough to sustain a can nonade or to bear up under the rockings of an earthquake. AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 103 But though its exterior is plain, its apartments and galleries, it is said, are beautiful and gorgeous. I now continued my journey, proceeding westward to the edge of Kensington Gardens ; (these being a vast expanse laid out in beautiful avenues, and which is three and a half miles around ;) and, having crossed by a fine bridge of five arches the artificial lake called the Serpentine, I thence set out on my return, by the nearest route, to the Park of St. James. St. James's Park has Buckingham Palace, a spacious and imposing edi fice, and the residence of the Queen during several months of the year, on its western edge ; while St. James's Palace, an irregular and faded-looking brick building of the reign of Henry VIII., lies on the N.N.W. of said park. This lat ter palace is regarded as peculiarly adapted for the holding of drawing-rooms and for other occasions of display, and it is for such purposes that it is now used ; the Queen, at such times, going with great pomp from her residence to it, and, after the levee or drawing-room has passed, back again. When such passings to and fro between the two palaces oc cur, the way is lined with the guards, and the royal carriage, which makes the journey very slowly, is drawu by six horses richly caparisoned. Besides, a crowd of course collects, which, a thing also of course, cheers her Majesty. Leaving behind me the parks and the royal palaces, I now passed through the Horse Guards to Whitehall Street, and there entering an omnibus soon made my way, not a little fatigued, to my hotel. Yours, &c, M. F. NO. XIV. Visit to St. Paul's-^View of It — Monuments — Wellington and Nelson — Ascent of Dome — Size — Architect — Bell — Westminster Abbey — Size — Age — Internal Aspect- Painted Windows — Chapels — Westminster Assembly — TUiyal Vaults — Stone ot ticone — Celebrated Graves of Philosophers, Poets, Scholars, and Statesmen — Evening Religious Service. London, May, 1855. It is my intention in this letter to give you some account of my visits to St. Paul's Cathedral and to Westminster Abbey, 104 TRAVELS IN FRANCE celebrated places to which I have recently gone. Of course no one would think of coming to London and leaving it with out viewing these far-famed edifices, and of course I would not think of pretending to give you somewhat of an account of it and yet omit to say anything of them. Having arisen early and attended to the duties of the morning, I set out for St. Paul's. Passing over London Bridge to the city proper ; then by the monument erected, in 16Y7, not far from this bridge, to commemorate the great fire, (a dingy-looking pillar of two hundred feet in height, and resembling, though much higher than it, Pompey's Pil lar in Egypt;) then going for a short distance along King William Street ; and then proceeding along Cannon Street, (which is the locality of the noted " London Stone," the sup posed centre of the Roman roads in Britain, and answering to the gilt pillar erected, by Augustus, to be the centre of the roads of Italy, in the Forum at Rome;) having, I say, passed -along these ways, I in a brief time found myself in St. Paul's Churchyard, this being the name of the space in which the church for which I was seeking stands. The vast and beautiful Cathedral of St. Paul is situated, except as to the side of the city next the Thames, right in the heart of Old London ; standing where a former very ancient cathedral had stood, — that one in which Harold, the last Saxon king, was crowned. It is built' on a slight eminence, and of Portland stone, and is cruciform. Its main entrance is toward the west, and faces the end of that street known as Ludgate Hill. Let the observer step along Ludgate Hill a short way and then walk back toward the church, and of this main entrance he has a full view. Be fore him are, rising from a wide platform, twelve Corinthian columns grouped by twos and twos. These, however, reach only to one-half the height of the edifice: at this height there is another platform which they support, and upon it are reared eight pillars which stand beneath a triangular pediment. Then at each extremity of this pediment, that is, on the northwestern and southwestern corners of the edi fice, are two lofty turrets. Another thing of which the obser ver, while standing here, has a fine view is the magnificent dome which is over the middle of the edifice, and which is surmounted by a lantern with a ball and cross. Leaving my stand-point on Ludgate Hill and passing along a por- AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 105 tion ofthe space called St. Paul's Churchyard, I approached more nearly to the vast structure. One then has a more dis tinct sight of the entablature on which, beneath the pediment, is represented, in relief, the conversion of the Apostle Paul. Then, going around the building, I entered it from the north. It was about being repaired, so that I had not an opportunity of inspecting, so thoroughly, its interior as I would have desired. After entering I first gazed upon the monuments which it contains. Among these are monuments to Dr. Johnson, who, I believe, was first honored with a monument in the building ; to John Howard, the celebrated Philanthropist ; to Earl Howe ; to Sir Ralph Abercrombie ; to Lords Nel son, St. Vincent, Cornwallis, and Duncan ; to General Pic- ton ; to General Packenham, who fell at New Orleans ; to General Gibbs, who fell at the same time ; to Sir John Moore, who fell in Spain ; to Sir Joshua Reynolds ; to Sir William Jones ; to Sir Astley Cooper, and to others. I looked at the spot where in one of the aisles lie side by side the bodies of the Duke of Wellington and Lord Nelson. I also looked into the choir, where a simple marble slab in dicates the grave of Sir Christopher Wren, the architect of the edifice. I next ascended to the whispering gallery which is at the bottom of the dome, and there listened to the usual vocal experiments made for the gratification of visitors. At this spot the diameter of the dome is one hundred feet. While here I was very strongly impressed with the vast dimensions and height of the structure above me. Men were engaged in repairing it ; they being only about half way up, while the spot where I stood was also high up, being at the base of the dome, — and yet they appeared to my eye no bigger than rabbits. I then continued to ascend till I reached the top of the dome. This is accounted one of the most remark able stands of prospect in London. I looked around, but, though the day was clear, the eye could not reach the extent of the city. All around were a smoky atmosphere, and the roofs of innumerable houses mainly covered with tiles, though some roofs were covered with slate. Also, beneath was the silvery thread of the Thames, with its bridges, ships, and crowded little steamboats. Again, the old Abbey and the Parliament House, and in the other direction the monument of the great fire, and the spire containing those noted Bow- 106 TRAVELS IN FRANCE bells within whose sound every one born is a Cockney, were to be seen. In addition to the things enumerated, I could in all directions fix my eye on various objects of world wide celebrity. Having gazed around till I was tired with gazing, I then proceeded to examine the masonry beneath my feet. The huge stones are clamped together by masses of iron and cemented with lead. After having spent three- quarters of an hour on the top, a time long enough to gratify a reasonable curiosity, I engaged in the task of descending, which I soon accomplished. After my coming down I walked around and around the outside of the vast pile, gazing at the phoenix on the south front, — to which front the north one has a correspondence, ¦ — with the motto "Resurgam ;" (these things having been in tended to imply an allusion to the present church being in some sense a re-edification of a former one that had perished in the great fire ;) at the statues of the Twelve Apostles ; and at the soiled and weather-worn statue of Queen Ann, which stands before the eye an object peculiarly prominent. With respect to the dimensions of St. Paul's, I remark that its length from west to east is 510 feet, that the width of the west front is 180 feet, and of the building at the transept 250 feet ; and that the height of each of the two clock tow ers is 222 feet, while that of the dome and lantern is 404 feet. As I said above, Sir Christopher Wren was the architect of this great edifice, the noblest of all Protestant temples of worship. He made his first commencement on the work in 16T5, and it was fully completed in 1T10, when the queen (Queen Ann) and the two Houses of Parliament attended divine service together, in the new Cathedral. I would add that the great bell of St. Paul's, weighing 8400 pounds, is only tolled on the death of one of the royal family, of the Lord Bishop of London, of the Lord Mayor, and of the Dean of St. Paul's. The day, when I had completed my inspection of St. Paul's, was still young; so I continued my walk, going along Ludgate Hill, then along Fleet Street, then through Temple Bar, (the only one of the gates of London still standing,) then passing along the street named the Strand, which is in a continuous line with the two streets spoken of, and which terminates in the large open area called (one part AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 107 of it) Trafalgar Square, and (the other part) Charing Cross, and then proceeding along Whitehall and Parliament streets, (which streets also make with each other a straight line.) Having accomplished my journey through these streets, I now found myself at the entrance of Westminster Abbey, the spot for which I had been directing my steps. This celebrated edifice, which, after St. Paul's, is the finest building for ecclesiastical purposes in London, stands close by the Parliament House, being just on the opposite side of fie street from it. It stands on the site of a ruined Saxon place of worship, erected by Sebert in the sixth cen tury. A considerable part of it is very ancient, dating back to the reigns of Edward the Confessor, (a.d. 1050,) of Henry III., (1220-1269,) and of Edward I., (1212-1301,) though it was never completed till the time of Sir Christopher Wren. As to size, it is somewhat about two-thirds as large as St. Paul's. Its towers, pinnacles, and numerous pointed arches, — all of these admirably proportioned and of very ponderous size, — give its exterior a very imposing effect. The edifice is cruciform, and eighteen huge fluted columns run along each side of the interior lengthwise, and ten columns across that part which corresponds to the cross-beam of a cross. The main body of the building, or the nave, is floored with stone slabs, on which, in many cases, the names of those who sleep beneath are cut. This part is seldom or never used but as a place of sepulture or promenade. The place in which divine worship is performed is within a railing in the space between the two ends of the transept. While visiting the Abbey I waited for an afternoon service, and it was con ducted with great beauty and pomp. Where the service was performed is the same spot where the monarch is crowned. While waiting for the religious service, at which I was pre sent, to commence, I could not help admiring the windows. There are no side windows ; but at one end of the main body of the Abbey, far up, are one large and two small windows, of painted glass, and at the other end, opposite these, also far up, three large ones and one small, while at one of the ends of the transept, in other words at one of the ends of the transverse part of the building, there are (high up) six painted windows, with again, at a considerable dis tance above these, six others of painted glass, also, and, at the other end of said transverse part of the building, one 108 TRAVELS IN FRANCE huge round (or rose) window of painted glass, very high up, with six, whose glass is not painted, below it. By means of these various windows a light, gloomy, but adequate to all necessary uses, is shed into the body of the spacious pile. During my visit, I as a matter of course went around the chapels. The first of these, entering from the Poet's Cor ner, that is visited, is that of St. Benedict. Then comes St. Edmund's, and after it St. Nicholas. But vastly more interesting is that one which is called after Henry VII. The ascent to it is by steps of black marble, and its g*ates are of brass, and are noted at once for their antiquity and workmanship. It is 115 feet in length and 80 in width, and is in the form of a cathedral with nave and side aisles. Its windows are of painted glass, and have each a white rose in them, the badge of the party of the House of Lan caster; the party whose success elevated Henry VII. to the throne. It was in this chapel that the celebrated West minster Assembly of Divines came together, in July, 1643, under the auspices of the Long Parliament. Also, it is beneath.it that the royal vault is situated. And in various parts of it the remains of numerous royal persons, who were not buried in this vault, are deposited. Hero lie the heartless but long-headed Henry VII. and his queen, under a noble but soiled, and, in its decoration, barbarian-like tomb. Here lies the body of Queen Elizabeth, while a few feet from her tomb is that of Mary, Queen of Scots, who was brought here from Peterborough a quarter of a century after her execution. Here is the dust of the dissolute Charles II. Here repose the illustrious William III. and his consort. Here lie Queen Ann and Prince George. Here are, as has been vaguely supposed, the bodies of Edward V. and his brother. And here rests the young Duke Montponsier, (son of Louis Philippe of France,) who was interred in this spot on his death in England, in 1801. Here, therefore, one treads on the dust of not a few of this world's powerful and great. I next passed to the chapel which takes its title from Edward the Confessor. In it is St. Edward's Shrine, executed in the reign of Henry III., to which at one time an extraordinary sanctity was supposed to belong. It was while praying before this shrine that Henry IV. swooned, so that he was borne to an adjoining chamber, where he died. In this chapel lie Editha, the Confessor's Queen, AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 109 Henry III., and the warlike Edward I. Here, also, are the coronation chairs, and that history-famed stone which is put beneath the royal seat while the king is about having his head encircled with the diadem : a stone asserted to "have been carried from Ireland to Argyleshire, in North Britain, by Fergus, the son of Ferchard, which was removed thence by McAlpin, to Scone, and which was placed by Edward I. in this abbey. The coronation chairs are quite old and rough in appearance, but when used on state occasions they are richly covered with the finest cloth, and highly orna mented. And the stone referred to is the one on which the Kings of Scotland were anciently crowned, and which was supposed to have an influence in giving perpetuity to the Scottish throne. It is worthy of being noted that, in for mer times, the Duke of Carinthia, the Kings of Sweden and of Denmark, and the princes that reigned over the provinces of Ireland, were initiated to their sovereignties in an analo gous manner, to wit, on a stone. There are various other chapels, — all abounding in monuments. Of these I will men tion St. Paul's, in which lie the mortal remains of the great Irish scholar and reformer, Dr. James Usher, and in which also is a monument to James Watt, the improver, or rather the inventor of the steam-engine. The chapels are situated beyond the transept toward the east. ••¦ I would add to what I have said, that I have omitted, as I perceive, one tomb in them, among the most worthy of mention,. — that of the almost invincible Henry V., the famed conqueror of France, who lies buried (a strange contrast) beside an old Saxon King whose name even is now unknown. I now set out to go around the various graves of the dead, not buried in the chapels, and to look at the innumerable monuments with which the main area of the old abbey has at various times been enriched. The inscriptions are usually on marble tablets fixed to the wall, opposite to the spot where the body rests, in memory of the place of whose sepul ture the particular inscription has been put up. I was sur prised to observe that many of the old inscriptions were partly in Hebrew, showing the familiarity of the English mind at one time with Hebrew learning. Among the per sons buried in this place, to whom monuments have been reared, I will barely refer to a few. First, Sebert, King of the East Saxons, who died in 616, with Athelgoda, his 9 110 TRAVELS IN FRANCE Queen, is interred here, on the south side of the choir, where his monument ought not to be overlooked by the stranger, as being that of the man who, as I have already said, first reared a place of worship on the site of the present ecclesiastical edifice. On the other side of the choir from him, lie interred Aymer de Valence, Earl of Pembroke, and his Countess, and Edmund Crouchback, Earl of Lancaster, whose old monu ments, repaired in recent days, are worthy of attention. Walk ing away from these old graves, I wandered about in various directions. One place of interment that attracted considera ble attention from me was that of the Right Honorable Alme- ericus De Courcy, who died in 1119, aged 51, and who, we are told in his epitaph, was a descendant of John De Courcy, Earl of Ulster, the stalwart Anglo-Norman Irish lord, who, in the early history of the Anglo-Norman race in Ireland, had the privilege conferred on him of wearing his hat in the pre sence of the sovereign. I walked to the other side ofthe ab bey, and beneath my feet was the corse of a man well known . in American history, the unfortunate Major Andre. Many. years ago I was acquainted with a lady who was not far from being his nearest blood-relation, and, On this account, as well as on account of his youth, his accomplishments, and his unhappy premature fate, felt a deep interest in the grave over which I was standing, and in the tablet to his memory, on which I was gazing. I then, after wandering around for some time, walked up the area in the direction of the transept, and before me was a tablet erected in honor of no less a personage than Sir Isaac Newton. For awhile I could not think where was his grave, but one of the men who have the charge of the edifice, sitting close beside where I had stopped, I asked him where it might be. He replied, "Look beneath your feet." My feet were nearly over the initials of the name of the great mathematician and philoso pher, and his now crumbled dust was directly beneath the slab which was upholding my body. Leaving behind me all that is mortal of that * * * " Pure intelligence, whom God „ . To mortals lent, to trace his boundless work From laws sublimely simple," I then proceeded to the north transept, where sleeps together, near the northern door of the church, a number of Britain's great statesmen and orators. There, in the centre of the AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. Ill aisle, is a slab with C. J. F. inscribed on it. This is all that marks the last resting-place of the great Parlia mentary leader and orator, Charles James Fox. Under the flagging close beside him is the grave of his great rival, William Pitt. Then, near Pitt's six feet of earth, in a like narrow space, sleeps his greater father, the elder Pitt, Earl of Chatham. Then, hard by, rests Lord Mansfield. Then, in the same vicinity, lies thrice-glorious Grattan. Then, just at hand, reposes Castlereagh, a man as manly and chival rous as any other man of his own or any other age. Then, at the feet of the younger Pitt, and separated from him only by a nine inch wall, moulders the body of George Canning. While in companionship with these, the mortal part of Wil liam Wilberforce awaits the resurrection of the just. Having lingered awhile amid this small but extraordinary group of sleepers who here take their long repose, I pro ceeded to the south transept where is what is called the "Poets' Corner." In this small spot is collected the dust of as many men of genius as in any other place of even much larger dimensions in any part of the earth ; men who owed their celebrity not to rank, birth, fortune, or rabble popularity, 1)ut to their own labor performed in connection with the enkindlings of that glorious spark which the God of Nature had communicated to them, when giving them being ; men, many of whom lived in poverty and dependence, but who, nevertheless, have im mortally linked their names with their land's language. Here, first of all, lies entombed, the oldest of the great Eng lish poets ; he so felicitously described by a more modern bard, as Fancy's * * * "Ancient master, laughing sage, Chaucer, whose native manners-painting verse Well-moralized shines, through the Gothic cloud Of time and language, o'er his genius, thrown." But to be brief, — here are buried, Spenser, Cowley, Dryden, (who lies side by side with Chaucer,) Addison, Gay, John son, Sheridan, Campbell, and some others famous in the poetic world. What a galaxy of luminaries that can never cease to shine as long as the world lasts I But even in this spot, over which Death, with his bat-like wings outspread, visibly broods, and which is solemnly dedicated to literature 112 TRAVELS IN FRANCE and religion, one's serious meditations are marred by at least one inscription little in consonance with the awful dignity of these honored graves. I refer to the epitaph over Gay, which ought never to have been admitted within those walls. It runs thus : "Life is a jest, and all things show it: I thought so once ; but now I know it." Most certainly life is more than a bit of jocularity, however men may talk of it, and that the countless dead beneath our feet have long since abundantly learned. Life is the time of gracious probation, granted to fallen man for repentance ; in the oft-repeated and trite words of a pious poet, " Life is the time to serve the Lord, The time to secure the rich reward." But the Poets' Corner, how rich soever it may be in the graves of celebrated bards, is far from containing all the graves of distinguished British poets. Milton, Shakspeare, Pope, Parnel, Gray, Goldsmith, Beattie, Young, Chapman, Falconer, Shirley, Cowper, Burns, Byron, Scott, Shelley, Moore, and many others, all rest in other places ; some in other sepulchral areas in London, others in more distant burying-grounds, and one beneath the sea. I may mention that there are monuments erected in this world-famed corner to many of these here spoken of as not being buried in it. At length the hour for evening service arrived, for which I had been, for a considerable time, waiting ; which time I spent, partly in sitting to allay fatigue, and partly in viewing the noble windows and the numerous lofty columns. The service (I need scarcely say, after the form of the Anglican Church,) was held in the place where so many monarchs had been crowned. It was chanted or intoned (I am not clear as to which is the proper expression) by a choir of about twenty-four persons, some of whom were old men and others boys. There were, however, only a few dozen persons pre sent besides the members of the choir. Those who serve in such choirs are selected for the musical delicacy of their ears, and the tunableness and richness of their voices. It mav, therefore, be supposed that the solemn music made the aisles and arches, the tombs and chapels, of the old abbey, echo back exquisite and awe-inspiring sounds. AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 113 Religious services being concluded, I now set out for my lodgings, entering the first vehicle suited to my purpose which I met. I subscribe myself yours, &c, M. F. P. S. — It is worth the recalling to mind, in connection with the account I have given you of Westminster Abbey, that in it, to the west of the Sanctuary, stood Caxton's Printing-press, (still to be seen,) erected in 1414, which was the first printing-press that existed in Great Britain. Thus did the printing-press and the coronation chairs, the types and the crown, the crowning archbishop and the printer, and the monarch and the publisher, once here neighbor, each the other's pecuilar locality, at the distance of only a few feet. NO. XV. Situation of the Tower — Portcullis — Bloody Tower — White Tower — Council-Uoom of the Old Kings — Raleigh's Prison — Equestrian Figures in Mail Armor — Royal Insig nia — The Tower as a Stronghold — Its Ancient Royal Palace— Once a Prison — King Baliol — Wallace — Bruce — John of France, &c. — Collections of Armor — Heading- Block and Axe — St. Peter's — The Dead in its Vaults. London, June, 1855. I purpose, in this letter, to give you an account of my visit to a place of great interest, — the Tower. This hoary edifice, once the grand metropolitan strong hold and castle of the old kings, and now noted for its vast collection of ancient arms and armor, stands just without the city proper, eastward, on the north bank of the Thames. Thus it has this river flowing along its southern edge, while it has Great Tower Hill (now paved and built over) to the W.N.W. of it, and an open paved space, of considerable extent, stretching all around it, outside, except on the side next the river. It stands in a hollow ; Tower Hill, and the open ground on the north of the Tower, being a considerable, though not very steep acclivity overlooking it. But while, as to these places, in a hollow, it stands on a slight elevation 9* 114 TRAVELS IN FRANCE as to the bank of the Thames. The ground contained within the outer wall, which encloses the keep or citadel, is twelve acres and five roods in extent, and is shaped somewhat like an octagon, or decagon, cut off at a little beyond the middle by the water. Within this outer wall is a second one, which is only distant about the width of a street from the one out most. Around all, at the outside base of the outmost wall, is a deep mo'at of nine hundred and ninety yards in length,— this moat having been formerly supplied with water through the Traitor's Gate, but being, from motives of salubrity, kept dry for the last twelve years. Outside the walls of the Tower there is a small office or lodge for the accommodation of a guard or porter ; to this house I first went, where I was supplied with a ticket of ad mission. After a short interval I was led by one of the subordinate officers, over a stone bridge defended at each extremity by a tower, into the space within the outer wall. After passing along the open ground lying in the direction of the river bank, we came to the inner end of the tunnel or pas sage from the Traitor's Gate. Here, between us and the river, was the moat, and beyond this a wharf of forty or fifty yards in width, mounted with some cannon. After looking around for a little, we passed, by a large and noble gateway, into the space within the inner wall. This gateway is judged to have been erected about 1321, in the reign of Edward III. There were formerly attached to it two portcullises, but only one now remains. It is an iron grate with spikes below, and moves up and down before the gate in grooves, like a common window-sash. Over this gateway is a rectangular tower, known as the Bloody Tower, and said to be the site of the deaths of Edward V. and his brother in 1483. We now proceeded to the building in the centre of the fortifications, called the White Tower. It was erected by Gundulph, Bishop of Rochester, for the Conqueror, and was begun by him about 1019 or 1080. It is a magnificent spe cimen of Norman architecture, being 116 feet from north to south, 96 feet from east to west, 92 feet in height, and the external walls being 15 feet in thickness. This edifice con tains, on the second story, what was St. John's Chapel, (once the royal chapel,) one of the finest extant specimens' of the architecture of the Normans, and, on the upmost floor, what was the council chamber, in which the old kings held AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 115 their councils, when holding their court in the Tower. On the ground floor is an apartment called Queen Elizabeth's Armory, on the north side of which is a cell of ten feet long and of eight wide, formed in the thickness of the wall, and receiving no light but from the entrance ; in which, it is told us, Sir Walter Raleigh was confined, and in which, we are informed, he wrote his. History of the World. This armory contains all conceivable arms that were formerly in use. Alas ! for the fertility of men's brains in inventing, and the cunning of their hands in fabricating, weapons of destruc tion ! Against the southern wall of the White Tower was erected, about thirty years ago, the Horse Armory, in which are also exhibited an inconceivable number of articles that were Once in use for defence or offence ; especially are the armed equestrian figures, — the line of these beginning with the reign of Edward I. (1212,) and ending with that of James II. (1683), — ^worthy of inspection, at once for the perfectness of their equipment, and for the skillful classifica tion, according to periods, of their armor ; the various suits of armor worn by them being either fac-similes of that worn by the kings and other persons whom they represent, or that identical armor itself. And just outside this armory is a collection. of ancient cannon well worthy of attention. We next proceeded to the new Jewel-House, which stands in the northeast angle of the inner wall. Here are kept the royal insignia ; formerly these were kept in that building called the Martin Tower, but in 1842 the present jewel- house was completed for their reception. They are exhibited by> a woman, and are under a lpfty dome-shaped iron railing, through the interstices of which the spectator views them. Here are no less than five crowns, to wit : that, of St. Edward, the last of the Saxon line of kings who gat' on the English throne ; that which was made for Marie D'Este, the second wife of James the Second ; that of the reigning sovereign ; that of the Prince of Wales, the heir apparent ; and that in reserve for a queen consort, when such a person is to be crowned. The crown of Queen Victoria is worth one and a quarter million of pounds sterling. It is simply a cap of purple velvet, enclosed with hoops of silver, and surmounted by a ball and cross,; these being frosted with brilliants. Seve ral of the precious stones which it contains are'of vast value, brie the "inestimable sapphire," (which is two inches long, 116 TRAVELS IN FRANCE and thus of the size of a small egg, and of a blue like heaven,) and another, the heart-shaped ruby, that had once, it is affirmed, and no doubt truly, belonged to the Black Prince ; also to it belongs, if I mistake not, the celebrated Eastern diamond, the Kohinoor. I could scarcely, before I saw it, have imagined that a cap for a human head could possibly be worth so much money. But the regalia include other things in addition to the crowns. Here no less than five sceptres of gold, and one of ivory, are to be seen : four of these are still used in the coronation of a king and his queen ; the other two, the ivory sceptre which belonged to the second queen of James II. , and a richly wrought golden sceptre which belonged to Mary, the consort of William III., are preserved, not for use, but as royal property. Those which are used on coronation occasions are the golden staff of Edward the Confessor, which is four feet and seven inches in length, and which, at such times, is carried before the monarch ; the royal sceptre which, when the diadem is put on his head, is put into his right hand ; the sceptre with the dove, which is put into his left hand ; and the queen's sceptre, which is smaller, but more beautiful than the others. All . these golden staffs are richly set with diamonds and precious stones. In addition to these crowns and sceptres are to be seen, among the royal insignia, the curtana,'(or pointless sword of mercy,) the sword of temporal justice, and the sword of ecclesiastical justice, which things, at coronations, are carried before the sovereign. I would remark that none of the things which I have enumerated, though some of them bear names that go back to times before the Norman line of kings ascended the throne, are more ancient, except as to their names, fashions, and uses, than the reign of the Second Charles ; all the things belonging to the ancient re galia, — with the exception of some jewels and of a single small article, — having, during the Commonwealth, been lost. The value of the entire regalia amounts to the vast sum of about three millions of pounds sterling.* Having gratified my curiosity in the Jewel-House, I now proceeded, a second time, to pass through and inspect the vast magazines of antiquated arms aud armor that have been brought together in those two apartments which were spoken * Hanover claims jewels of these, valued at a million sterling, and, it is said, rightfully. AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. Ill of above. And here I would remftk that strangers take their look at these things before being taken to visit the spot in which the regalia are kept, but that occasionally a second view is indulged. The two apartments in which the old arms are mainly kept, as I need scarcely to repeat, are called Queen Elizabeth's Armory and the Horse Armory. Through both of these I passed slowly, examining very attentively most things that came under my view. And one thing I would here observe, though somewhat out of place, that the build ings in the enclosed area of the Tower were, from the ear liest times, the chief depository in the kingdom of all things necessary for military uses. But into the apartments con taining modern arms and the models of fortified towns, strangers are not admitted, except they have obtained a special order for the purpose. The Horse Armory (which is very large, being 150 feet in length and 34 in breadth,) and Queen Elizabeth's Armory are, both of them, not merely filled, but fully filled, with the most interesting specimens of old armor and old weapons. The fact is, no one can conceive how rich they are in such antiquities except the person who has examined their vast stores in detail. Of the numerous articles which they con tain I do not pretend to mention more than a very few. I saw in them a complete suit of ancient Greek armor in fine preservation, which had been found in a tomb at Cumas, consisting of a winged helmet, a breastplate, a backplate, and all other things, (or, at least, almost all other things that belong to a suit of armor,) even to the dagger in its case. In them there is to be seen an Etruscan helmet of bronze; there are the leaden pellets of Arcadian slingers, found in the ancient Greek fortress of Samos, in the Island of Cepha- lonia ; there is a Roman spear-head ; there is a variety of old Celtic and ancient British axes, swords, and spears of bronze, — one of the battle-axes having been found near the celebrated battle-ground of Hastings, and being supposed to have been left there during the military operations in the vicinity, between William the Conqueror and Harold ; there is a very old Irish weapon called a spaath, found near the Giant's Causeway ; there is that once formidable weapon, the old English crossbow, in use in the chase in the time of the Conqueror, and, from the time of Richard I., in use in war; there is the morning-star and holy-water-sprinkle, a 118 TRAVELS IN FRANCE ball of wood armed with spikes of iron, and fixed to the end of a long pole ; there are, almost perfectly sound in appear ance, two bows of yew, recovered, in 1841, from the Mary Rose, after having been three hundred years in the sea; there is the glaive, a sword with a hollow handle and fixed on a pole. Besides, there are the military flail, the spear of the cavalry, and the pike of the infantry. Again, in these depositories of ancient armor and wea pons, as it relates to defensive armor, I saw articles of almost every conceivable variety of shape and use. There is to be seen in them the buckler, with and without the sword-breaker, that is, concentric hoops arranged to break, or at least en tangle, the pointed weapon that may come into contact with it ; there is the pavoise, that is, a huge shield carried by the serf, in the middle ages, in front of his lord, for their mutual protection ; there are Saracenic and Indian armor, chain mail armor, plate armor, and mixed chain and plate armor, and, in striking contrast to these, the rude but strong hempen armor of the South Sea Islander ; there is even a suit of chain mail armor which was worn by Bajazet, the proud Turkish emperor that was defeated and taken prisoner by Tamerlane, in 1402 ; also, there is the defensive armor of the cuirassier of modern times, to wit, the strong and well- hammered cuirass; but I would remark that even it is not proof against a musket at a close distance, as I have seen in those armories, a cuirass of the best workmanship and temper, from the field of Waterloo, which had been perfo rated, with evident facility, by a musket ball. Again, in addition to the things enumerated, there is, in the Tower armories, a considerable quantity of combined arms of various kinds ; old weapons of offence and armor of defence having been united with fire-arms, after the dis covery of gunpowder, from a natural predilection for the old arms, as old and tried friends, in preference to an entire dependence on the means of aggression and defence, that had lately eome into use. Nor are the men of our day want ing in such feelings as also impel them likewise to combine kinds of arms that are distinct, with a view to greater effi ciency in certain circumstances. Most of the specimens of combined armor in the Tower are quite old, though some of them are modern. Among them are a target, with a gun in the centre, and a grated aperture for taking aim ; (of the AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 119 date of 1509-46 ;) a row of targets of about the same age, the reign of Henry VIII. , each having a small gun attached to the centre, this gun to be loaded at the breach ; a pole- axe, (or axe on a pole,) combined with a gun ; a two-handed battle-axe united with a gun ; a holy-water-sprinkle com bined with three guns ; a mace-cannon with four barrels, which was carried at the saddle-bow ; a hand-cannon with long narrow thrusting-sword ; a combined sword and pistol of modern Indian manufacture ; and four Indian shields, one of these having four percussion pistols belonging to it, and being of quite recent manufacture. Also, along with the specimens of combined arms enumerated, I would men tion a cresset combined with a spear ; the cresset, if any ex planation be needed, being such a lamp as in former days was carried by a camp-watch, and consisting chiefly of a bowl with a spike of iron in the centre, around which spike a rope covered with pitch was wreathed. I will now take you with me for a moment, to take a near view of Saint Peter's Chapel, the place of worship belonging to the old stronghold which is the subject of my letter ; and in going thither we pass over a piece of ground on which, in former times, those who were executed within the Tower walls were beheaded. On it stood, when I was pass ing over it, as if freshly brought forth for use, the heading- block and axe, both of them being in perfect order for the doing of their bloody work, and that though unused since 1146, when, on the neighboring Tower Hill, the Lords Bal- merino, Kilmarnock, and Lovat, were decapitated. They do not ordinarily stand on that spot, but, for some particu lar reason, they were there at the particular time of which I speak. The block has a place adapted to the neck so that the back part of it may be fully exposed, — the person to be executed being in a kneeling position, — and the axe bears resemblance to the large cleaver of a butcher. St. Peter's is, by no means, an imposing edifice, being not anything more than a plain stone building. It is, however, of great antiquity, having been erected in the reign of Edward I., in 1212. A thing that lends it interest is the memory of the distinguished dead that, executed hard by, in the days of despotism, lie in its vaults. There lie the bodies of Arthur and Edward Poole, great-grandsons of the unhappy Duke of Clarence, whom Edward IV. put to death by drowning in 120 TRAVELS IN ERANCE a butt of Malmsey wine ; of the Earl of Warwick, the inoffen sive but more unhappy son of this Duke of Clarence ; of Fisher, Bishop of Rochester; of Queen Ann Boleyn; of Thomas Cromwell, (Earl of Essex,) put to death by Henry VIII. ; of Queen Catharine Howard; of the Earl of Surry ; of the Duke of Somerset ; of Devereux, Earl of Essex ; of Lady Jane Gray, and her husband Lord Guildford Dudley; of the Duke of Northumberland ; of the Duke of Monmouth, and of many others ; all of those whom I have named, having been executed, except the two whose names were first given. In the sequel of this letter I will give a very brief account of the Tower as a place of defence, as a place of royal abode, and, lastly, as a prison. It was founded by William the Conqueror, with the view, originally, to its being a stronghold from which he could effectually hold in check the mutinous spirit of the Lon doners ; and this end it did fully answer, and this not only in his days but in those of his successors ; the garrison of Normans, which long occupied it, completely suppressing all inclination to rebellion on the part of the vanquished English. It first became the scene of strife and violence in the reign of Stephen, the grandson ofthe Conqueror, through his daughter Adela. Then again in the reigns of John, Ed ward II., and Richard IL, it was the scene of sieges and tumults. Also, during the wars of the Roses, and of Charles I. and the Long Parliament, it was regarded by all the various parties as a fortress the possession of which was of the greatest moment. It is worthy of being told, — to the high honor of England, — that during the eight centuries now almost completed, through which it has stood, it has never had its strength tried by the attack of an army of invading foreigners. Its strength was, no doubt, what induced the monarch, when it was first built, to establish, when not staying at Windsor, within its enclosure, his royal residence. The spot occu pied by his palace was the southeast portion of the area which is contained within the inner wall, and it covered about one-sixth of the space included within said wall, that is, about an acre and two-fifths. All the monarchs of Eng land resided there, and there held their courts, down to the reign of Queen Elizabeth; and even her successor, James I., occasionally held his court in the old palace in the Tower. AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 121 Of this palace, however, there is not now one stone on another. That edifice, in which kings, queens, and nobles feasted, from which knights and fair ladies rode forth to en gage in jousts and tournaments in adjoining open spaces, and in which questions pregnant with war, or involving peace and prosperity, were, innumerable times, decided, — and these things during centuries, — has long since given way to another structure, or to make mere street-room. But the Tower has been not merely a stronghold and a royal palace, it has also, from a very early period in its history till the present day, been used for a prison. The first State prisoner immured in it was Flambard, Bishop of Durham, who was put into it, about the year a.d. 1100, by Henry I., (the third son of the Conqueror,) who had just succeeded his brother, William Rufus, on the throne. And, from the days of Flambard till the execution of the Scottish Jacobite lords, in the middle of the century last past, how many indi viduals eminent for their rank pined their years and lives away within those gloomy walls ! How many persons of all ranks, during the ages of barbarism, when the prince, the minister of religion, the noble, the burgher, and the pea sant, were alike ignorant of the nature of humane feeling, endured unutterable misery among the secret passages and dark chambers lately beneath my feet ! We ought to thank God that those days of sternness have gone past, and that a milder period has arrived. Among the most dis tinguished of those who have been prisoners in the Tower at various times, I may name the following persons, to wit : King Baliol of Scotland, (1291;) Sir William Wallace, (1305;) King David Bruce of Scotland; King John of France, with his son and many French nobles, (1359;) the worthy Sir Simon Burley, who was beheaded on Tower Hill, (being the first for whom a scaffold was there erected,) in 1388 ; the weak Richard II. ; the amiable but unfortunate Henry VI. , and his high-spirited Queen, Margaret of An- jou; the Duke of Clarence, who was immured by his bro ther, Edward IV., and put to death in the Bowyer Tower; Edward V. and his brother, who were put to death in the Bloody Tower ; Lord Hastings, who was seized, and, with a very brief delay, executed in front of St. Peter's Chapel ; Lord Cobham, who was burned, in 1411, at St. Giles's-in- the-Fields, as a Wickliffeite ; the Earl of Warwick who, after 10 122 ' TRAVELS IN FRANCE having been long cruelly and unjustly kept a prisoner by Henry VII., was by his order beheaded; Thomas Fitzger ald, (son of the Irish Earl of Kildare,) who was executed at Tyburn, in 1531 ; Sir Thomas More, Lord Chancellor, who was executed; Fisher, Bishop of Rochester, who was exe cuted ; Queen Ann Boleyn, who was also executed ; Lord Cromwell, who was executed; Queen Catharine Howard, who experienced the same fate as Ann Boleyn ; the Countess of Salisbury, the last of the Plantagenets of full blood, (she having been the daughter of the Duke of Clarence, and the sister of the Earl of Warwick, both of whom have been spoken of above,) who was dragged by her gray hairs to the fatal block from which, in horror, she sought to fly; Lord Thomas Seymour and Lord Edward Seymour, uncles of Ed ward VI., both of whom were executed ; Lord Guildford Dudley and Lady Jane Gray, with whose history all are familiar; the Princess Elizabeth, who was afterwards the famous Queen Elizabeth ; Cranmer, Ridley, and Latimer, who, all three of them, became martyrs of Protestantism ; the Earl of Essex, Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland; Sir John Perrot, Lord Deputy of Ireland ; Arthur and Edward Poole, great-grandsons of the Duke of Clarence, to whom I have several times made reference ; the Irish Earl of Des mond, and afterwards his little son; Philip Howard, Earl of Arundel, who was beheaded in 1512; Sir Walter Ra leigh ; the beautiful Lady Arabella Stuart ; the proud and gifted Earl of Strafford ; Archbishop Laud ; several per sons concerned in the death of Charles I. ; the Duke of Monmouth ; the vile Judge Jeffries ; and the Lords Bal- marino, Kilmarnock, and Lovat, with whom, — with a sin gle exception, — I will conclude my long list ; that excep tion having reference to Henry Laurens, of South Carolina, President of the American Revolutionary Congress, who was here confined as guilty of high treason. Perhaps there is no other prison in the world that can claim such a cata logue of celebrated names as having belonged to its inmates. But, of the old gloomy place, (a place that so depressed my spirits by its gloom that I left it almost in tears,) which has been the theme of my long epistle, I have said enough to gratify a reasonable curiosity ; and, therefore, with your leave, I will here stop. Yours, &c, M. F. AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 123 NO. XVI. Churches in London — Service in St. Saviour's — St. Giles's-in-the-Fields— Presbyterian Church and Dr. Cumming — Royal Chapel of Whitehall— Sermon— St. Giles's— Cripplegate — Grave of Milton — Surry Chapel — Divine Service at Lambeth — Exeter Hall — Desire to Visit the Church of the Crusaders. London, June, 1855. Both Sabbaths, since I came hither, I have attended di vine service as often as I posssibly could ; and it is my pur pose in this letter to say something of the churches in which I have been providentially led to worship. This vast city is a city of churches, and yet a large share of the population spends the sacred day, not in the offering of their homage to their Maker, but in excursions and amusements. In Lon don, and in the districts which are connected with it, there- were, four years ago, somewhat above 160 places of wor ship belonging to all classes of religionists : of these, 366 belonged to the Establishment, 133 to the Congregational- ists, 109 to the various classes of Wesleyan Methodists, 90 to the Baptists, 11 to the Presbyterians, 1 to the Unitari ans, 25 to the Roman Catholics, 2 to the Greek Church, and 11 to the Jews, while some other places of worship were held by less prominent denominations. I would ob serve that I could pleasantly pass a considerable time in becoming acquainted with the various temples, and forms, of worship, in this city. The first church in which I joined in divine service in this city was St. Saviour's, — once called the Church of St. Mary Overy, — in Southwark. I inquired of the landlord of the hotel for a Congregational or Presbyterian Church; but, as the word church is here peculiarly appropriated to the edi fices belonging to the Church of England, he directed me, no doubt from a misapprehension on his part, to the church of which I am speaking. I may remark that here all Christian temples other than Episcopalian are named cha pels. This, I was informed, sometimes leads to quite ludi crous mistakes on the part of the simple class of the humble Roman Catholic Irish ; Catholic churches in their own coun try being usually called chapels. When these people pass over to England, and inquire of some Englishman, as simple 124 TRAVELS IN FRANCE as themselves, the way to the chapel, and are directed to a Methodist or Congregational place of worship, I was told that some of them would express the utmost astonishment at the new form of Romish service with which, in England, they had just become acquainted. As for myself I was not sorry that, though by mistake, I had found my way into St. Saviour's. It is a noble edifice, and, in its choir and lady- chapel, boasts, in the view of competent judges, the best early English architecture in London. The sermon, too, was evangelical, and, viewed as a specimen of sermonizing, though not great, highly respectable. Nor did the parson read from a manuscript before him, but, on the contrary, acquitted himself like a man not needing crutches to help his lameness. If the sermon that I heard be a sample of the average of his sermons, both as to its doctrine, composition, and delivery, I regard his parishoners as well served. • The church, — though I did not learn this till after I had worshiped in it, — has several interesting associations gathered around it in connection with the memory of the persons buried in it in long past years. Here, in the four teenth century, was buried John Gower, professor of law in the Inner Temple, but better known as a poet. Here was buried, on December 31, 1601, (according to the parish register,) Edmund Shakspeare, the youngest brother of William Shakspeare, the great poet ; the spot of interment being, however, unknown. Here, in the chancel, lies in terred, John Fletcher, the celebrated dramatic writer, he having died of the plague in 1625. And, also, here lies buried, in the same grave with his friend Fletcher, Philip Massinger, also a celebrated dramatic writer. Perhaps I may step out of my way, in this connection, to observe that, in the fourteenth century, not far from this old church, stood the ever-famous Tabard Inn, in which Chaucer assembled his Canterbury pilgrims. On the afternoon of the Sabbath on which I attended worship in St. Saviour's, I worshiped, at two o'clock, in St. Giles's-in-the-Fields; and I assure you that though the name once conveyed a correct idea, (for the place in early times was in the country and. overgrown with bushes,) it is now a misnomer. Instead of fields around it, it now makes part of the "province built over with houses." The house, which is plain but sufficiently capacious for a congregation of considerable size, was only thinly occupied, and the AND: THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 125 preaching, though good, was not by any means of very marked excellence. Some allowance, however, ought to be made for its being the afternoon, when attendance in all places of worship is small. Upon the spot where this church stands, or contiguous to it, Lord Cobham was burned at the stake, in 1411, under the charge of being a Wickliffeite. Here, also, when, after the Reformation, the fires of persecution had been again lighted in England, three Protestant martyrs were burned. I would add that also, in somewhat later days, this spot be came illustrious in the literary history of England, being the place where the dramatic writers, Chapman and Shirley, lie interred; the former having died in 1634, and the latter in 1669. On the evening, the congregation assembling so as to be out just at dark, I again attended worship ; going on this occasion to the Surry Chapel, where Sir Rowland Hill for merly ministered. In it I have been more frequently than in any other place of worship in London, — except Exeter Hall be viewed as such, — having been in it more than once on week evenings since I came hither. The building is of a circular form, large, and very plain. The numerous as semblage, which was and is mostly composed of very plain like people, was very attentive and devout. The form of worship used is a blending together of the simple services of the Dissenters with the liturgical forms ofthe Church of Eng land. And the pastor preached an excellent plain and sub stantial sermon. From what I have seen of this church, I have become impressed with the idea that, as to piety and activity, it is not behind any church in London. On the Sabbath last past I attended worship in the Royal Chapel in the Palace of Whitehall, — which royal place of worship you ought not to confound with the Chapel Royal in the Palace of St. James. When I started from my hotel, my purpose was to go to St. Giles's, Cripplegate ; but, just after leaving the house at which I had put up, while going along the street, I observed* a vehicle with the advertisement in large letters, "For the Royal Chapel, Whitehall," and, upon seeing this and putting an inquiry to the driver, changing my place of destination, I entered the vehicleiwith which I had thus come into contact, and was soon taken to the old palace. As it happened, my attend- 10* 126 TRAVELS IN FRANCE ance was very unusually early, so that when I entered there was no one in the house except a superb-looking man close by the door, whom, from his robes, I supposed to be the rector, and whom therefore I felt unwilling to ask for a seat, but who turned out to be the sexton ! In these cir cumstances I took the liberty, unusual in that place, of tak ing the occupancy of a seat upon myself. Nor, as it hap pened, was I disturbed. The preacher was a somewhat tall, straight man, of about (as I judged) thirty-five or forty years of age, very graceful in his movements, and with an admirable and well-modulated voice. He, however, stood almost motionless as he read off, beautifully and eloquently, though closely, his manuscript. His text was from the Book of the Acts of the Apostles, at the second chapter and at the thirty-second and thirty-third verses. And he drew out his discourse, without divisions, like a linen thread running off its spool ; no mattedness, nor hinderance, nor confusion, of any sort. The congregation is generally, judging from its appearance, very aristocratic, yet it gave to the preacher a simple, earnest attention. And the ser mon was worthy of attention, for it was certainly a fine specimen of tasteful, dignified religious composition. Yet it lacked : its religious tone was such as to leave it doubtful whether it did not need, though possessing so many excellent qualities, to be, nevertheless, baptized in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. And again it lacked : the fixed, statue-like attitude of the preacher, — a speaker so graceful and so self-possessed, — detracted greatly from the force of his eloquence. The chapel itself, as it seemed to my eye, is about the size of a country church in many parts of the United States, or of a large lecture-room of a city church. The pulpit is not at the end of the room, but at the middle of one of the side walls ; and opposite it is a lofty chair of State or royal throne, or what I took for such. At the end of the chapel, away from the door, (which is at one end,) appeared, piled up, an immense quantity of golden plate, presented, at various times, for sacramental uses, to those exercising the trust of this house of worship. This chapel is the old banqueting-room of Charles I. It is the only remaining part of the Palace of Whitehall, of the days of the Charleses and of Oliver Cromwell ; the other parts of the edifice having been, since those times, renewed. It was AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 121 designed by the well-known architect of the seventeenth century, Inigo Jones, after the style put forth by the famous Italian, Andrew Palladio, while the ceiling was painted by Rubens ; and it is justly regarded as admirable both for its architecture and painting. It was through a window close by the pulpit, which window had been removed for the pur pose, that Charles I. passed out when stepping on the scaf fold, — which was just outside, — to suffer death. It was in this apartment, also, that, previous to its burial, his body was laid out in gloomy state. As I took my departure after the conclusion of the services, I could not help looking intently at the footmen standing in the vestibule, holding with both hands their masters' gold-headed canes, (these being held before the breast in a perpendicular position,) to deliver them to them as they came forth. After having worshiped in the Whitehall Palace Chapel, I attended divine service, in the afternoon, at two o'clock, at St. Giles's, Cripplegate, the burial-place of the author of Paradise Lost : " A genius universal as his theme ; Astonishing as Chaos ; as the bloom Of blowing Eden, fair ; as Heaven, sublime." So sang the poet of the " Seasons," with respect to our great epic poet ; and it was in consequence of my cherishing a fellow-feeling with that expressed in the beautiful lines quoted, that, at the time designated, I made my way to the church that 1 have named. St. Giles's, Cripplegate, (Crip plegate, I would remark, being the name not of a street in London but of a certain locality,) is quite a plain structure, and stands in an unfrequented street off any of the great thoroughfares. I reached it by going along the large and very public thoroughfare' called Aldersgate Street, and then turning off from it, at a right angle, along the little street called Jerdin ; and, having gone past an abrupt bend, I found myself at the door of the old edifice which I was seeking. It stands with a slant from the street, which touches only one corner of it ; but this corner has a wide door, and through it is the entrance into the vestibule. Passing through the vestibule, I entered and sat down ; and, as the congregation had not yet assembled, had time to gaze around me at leisure. The building, which is very solidly 128 TRAVELS IN FRANCE constructed, is old-fashioned. It is, lengthwise, divided, over head, into three parts, that is, a middle part, and a part on each side of this ; the roof of the middle division being much higher than of the other two parts, so that it has windows overlooking their roofs. On the side next the street, on ac count of the neighboring houses, it has only two windows, but on the other side, (which looks upon an old graveyard,) five; and the gallery windows correspond in number to those on the ground floor. These windows are of lead, have the panes very small, and are each divided into three compartments ; these compartments being very tall and narrow, and each of them extending from the top to the bottom of the window in which it is. In each window there is a ventilator which is formed by a portion of the glass being bent in from the per pendicular, so that thus, while the rain is excluded, the air is admitted. It will be perceived that such a mode of ventila tion may answer in the mild climate of England, but it would be unsuited, equally, to the extreme heat and the extreme cold of the United States. Just above the chancel is a round or rose window of an orange-yellow glass, and of about a little more than three feet in diameter. "Upon it are painted some pic tures; and the Hebrew word Elohim, (God,) in large Hebrew letters, is written in its centre. The interior of the house has its audience-space enlarged by the addition of three galleries ; that is, a gallery on each side and one at the end ; the last- mentioned one being intended for the choir. These galleries awe supported on each side by six hexagonal pillars of huge thickness. Around the pulpit and chancel is a very rich abundance of Carved work. "Over the clerk's seat, which, after the old-fashion, is in front of the pulpit, is the once- prized but now antiquated sounding-board. Then there are the old high-backed pews. And, in connection with the particulars enumerated, I would mention an excellent old- fashioned organ in the gallery of the choir, with the inscrip tions on it, "Awake lip, my glory," and, "Awake, lute and harp." You Will perceive from what I have written that the bones of Milton gave me a deep interest in everything belonging to this old building. Indeed I have but little doubt that it has not changed very greatly in its arrange ments and leading features since he and his father here wor shiped and were here buried. ' Though extensively repaired, it is still the same edifice. AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 129 After awhile, in came the clerk bearing the clergyman's books, and then the clergyman himself entered. I remarked that, like the house, the clerk was exceedingly old-fashioned, especially in his dress and pronunciation. The preacher took for his text the second chapter and twenty-eighth verse of the Book of Joel, from which he read a beautiful and pious discourse, but in a manner rather inanimate. I ob served one thing, however, that, when compared with what is to be met with in our city churches in America, I thought highly commendable ; the manner in which the praises of God were sung. When the old precentor from his desk led off in the music, he was responded to from the gallery of the choir at once by the organ and by the voices of seventy or eighty boys and girls, (these little persons mainly constituting the choir,) while the entire congregation joined in; all ex hibiting the greatest animation and heartiness in loudly sounding the praises of the Lord. After worship I walked up one of the side aisles to the chancel, in which, under the desk, the immortal poet lies. He was buried in November, 1614, and, in the beginning of August, 1190,; — at which time the house was undergoing re pairs, — his coffin, (of lead,) was disentombed by some per sons of the parish in which St. Giles's stands. Even then the features of the countenance were not entirely obliterated, and the long, light-brown hair was as strong as the hair of a living being. I am sorry to say that before the body was restored to its mother earth, the hair and some of the teeth, were rudely and sacrilegiously plundered and carried off by some of the viler parishoners, who found access to the coffin. The thought of the execrable proceeding considerably spoiled to me the effect of the fine psalm-singing, I must acknow ledge ; for I would much sooner take pleasure in the loud songs of praise sung by the children or grandchildren of noted horse-stealers or sheep-thieves than in the music, how hearty and well performed soever, of those whose fathers or grandparents stole the teeth from the jaw of the ever-to-be-honored bard, in whom, and that truly, "each great, each amiable muse of classic ages" met. I add that in the middle aisle a marble bust has been placed in honor of the poet, with a tablet recording the date of his birth and death. But Milton's bones are not the only thing that gives interest to the church with respect to which I have been 130 TRAVELS IN FRANCE writing. Here, the stranger visiting it should bear in mind, the justly celebrated Dr. William Bates took part, between a century and a half and two centuries ago, in maintaining a morning exercise ; and here Tillotson preached, (in 1 661,) the first sermon that was ever printed by him. Toward the evening, at five o'clock, — after a short inter val, — I proceeded to Westminster to the church in which Dr. Cumming ministers, resolved to pay London Presby- terianism the compliment of worshiping at least once in one of her sanctuaries before going hence. I had determined not to be too late. And I succeeded in reaching the church so early that but few signs of an assembling congregation were to be seen. I found also that the doors were shut, and that they would not be opened, at least to strangers, till after the hour of worship. But, having made up my mind that I would be one of the worshipers on the present occa sion, I took my stand at one of the doors. Around these, in a short while, a large number of Scotch, — men and women, and mostly of the humbler walks of life,- — began to collect. with their Bibles and Psalm-books. Of these persons, some were silent, some engaged in pious conversation and friendly inquiries, some dived into the depths of the Apocalypse, and not a few discussed in very broad Scotch the question of the largeness of the income of the reverend divine, to listen to whom we had all come together. Why, his kirk paid him down, every year, so many hundred pounds ; and then the books that he had printed, brought him, each year, a sum so liberal, (one affirmed,) that I refrain from naming it ; while others made a very heavy deduction on figures thus large. So passed time away, the crowd around the doors still in creasing. As for myself, I concluded that I would get into the church in this way once, but not a second time. At length, the regular pew holders having become seated, the doors were opened, and in the crowd rushed. Pews and aisles were a crush. Comfortably seated myself, I could not but pity hard-worked men, and old women, who had to stand through a service of more than an hour and a half. Men may, in words, contemn money, and verdancy may actually contemn it, but, not occasionally, both in England and Amer rica, some money is a great help to persons hearing in a way that will give a fair chance for the salvation of the soul. Dr. Cumming is one of the sweetest, chastest, and most AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 131 fluent, — though not a great orator, — of speakers ; and his prayers and sermon had as much, as those of any other man that I recollect to have heard, of that mingled authoritative- ness and tenderness which we call onction. There was, how ever, for me, a little too much of Scotch old-fashionedness both about the sermon and the service. He spoke without a manuscript, and plainly without having committed ; never theless, his sentences would not bring discredit upon Blair. There are two things for which I must find fault with this church. One is the poorness of the edifice. The members of the church and congregation are in good circumstances, no doubt many wealthy, and during the sittings of Parlia ment a considerable number of members of Parliament and noblemen here worships ; and in these circumstances the sanctuary, in which all these statedly come together, should be, in everything connected with its architecture and appear ance, much superior to what it is. In proof of the wealth of the worshipers I would mention a circumstance that came under my own observation. While I was there, a notice, in respect to something done at a meeting of the Sabbath- school teachers, was read from the pulpit, the youthful Duke of Argyle having presided. Where, in a city like London, dukes go to church, — the Duke of Wellington, as well as the Duke of Argyle, often worships here, — the greater part of those who attend, (I mean in the morning,) are not likely to be the poor. Why, then, do not those who sit under the ministry of Dr. Cumming put up a better edifice ? Surely, if inanimate things praise the Lord, a temple to God cannot be regarded as mere mute stone and lime, but, as itself, a thing of praise : it cannot be looked on as a mere thing in which to serve Deity, but as that which should be eloquent continually of Him to whose glory it has been reared ; and, taking this view of things, I cannot but conclude that the merchants, commoners, and nobles, who frequent the place of worship with respect to which I am writing, should erect in its stead, for God, a superb ecclesiastical structure in Westmins ter. Indeed, in my opinion, it will be very discreditable to them if this should not be the case at no very distant day. I would say, however, that I do not suppose that it is to save money that the present poor building has been put up with till now ; but that, to English High-churchmen, Scotch Presbyterianism in London may not appear obtrusive, that 132 TRAVELS IN FRANCE it may not seem to elbow at head-quarters its proud sister establishment. Thus, as a piece of politico-religious cour tesy, are the reasonable claims of the Creator 'disregarded. The other thing in which I blame Dr. Cumming's people is, that they keep the poor and strangers crowding in the street about the door, — it being kept locked till the service has begun. The thing is shameful. I know that, in a city of more than two millions and a quarter of people, mea sures should be employed to secure to the regular congrega tion their seats. But this can be done . without keeping a crowd on a cold pavement, or in the rain, or under a hot sun. Either build houses like the cathedrals of the middle ages, in which there are several chapels branching off from a single vast floor, as in Notre Dame in Paris, or, if this do not please, put up enough of houses of worship to accommodate all who seek admission. By some means or other, it should be effected that out-door crowding should be done away with. The only other places that I will speak of, in this letter, as visited by me, in addition to the places of worship of which I have already spoken, are, the church close by the palace of the Archbishop of Canterbury at Lambeth, and Exeter Hall, which is only occasionally used as a place of worship. I attended divine services at Lambeth on a week evening, Taking my passage in a little steamer, one of those that leave the stairs at London Bridge every few minutes, I passed up the Thames, through the arches of the Soutwark, Black- friars, Waterloo, the Suspension, and Westminster bridges, and went ashore at the pier close by the Palace of Lambeth. This old palace is some distance, nearly half a mile, above the Parliament-house, on the opposite side of the river, — close to which it stands. It is a very ancient (though renovated) building of brick, and has been the residence of the occupants of the Archiepiscopal See of Canterbury since the twelfth century. It has a park and garden of eighteen acres in ex tent ; and, on the premises connected with it, I learned that there are two Marseilles fig-trees still standing that had been planted three centuries ago, by Cardinal Pole. After walking all around, several times, the hour of worhip arrived and I entered the church. This church, which stands in a very old graveyard, is as remarkable for its antiquity as for anything else, having been founded in 1311. I was very sorry that I AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 133 could not stay for the close of the services as the sexton came in, — as I had requested, — and told me that the last boat of the evening was about to leave, and I felt it unsafe to walk all the way to my lodgings at an hour so late. Of the palace which the Plantagenet kings had at Lambeth, there is not now a trace. I have, on a variety of occasions, been present at meetings of a moral and religious character at Exeter Hall. While I have been here there has been regular preaching in this hall on the Sabbath by a very eloquent young Dissenting clergy man, Mr. Spurgeon, for whom, I was told, a church was about being built ; but it has not been convenient for me to go to hear him. It is thus .used both as a church and as a place for public meetings. The building is very large, and was originally a menagerie of wild beasts. The seats rise from the floor toward both ends of the building ; one seat rising above another, after the manner of the benches in an ancient amphitheatre. They begin, in the way described, to rise, at the distance of about one-fourth of the entire length of the hall, from one end of the house, and at the distance of three- fourths from the other. In connection with the smaller por tion of the area thus divided is the platform on which, at public meetings, the chairman, officers, speakers, and other privileged persons, sit ; and the large division is occupied by the auditors. There are also quite small side galleries to which a privileged portion of the auditors is admitted. I was present at a meeting held, on the evening ofthe 30th of May, for the suppression of the traffic in intoxicating beve rages. The speaking was excellent. The fact is, the Bri tish greatly excel in platform speaking. Most assuredly, the aid of the national legislature in putting down the sale of strong drinks as a beverage could not have been more elo quently invoked than by some of the speakers. At this ex ceedingly interesting meeting, Sir Walter C. Trevelyan, Bart., presided. While the Right Honorable the Earl of Harring ton, K.G.B., was addressing the assembly, a "Scene of con fusion and excitement, not often surpassed, (I have never seen it equaled except at a temperance celebration, sixteen or eighteen years ago, in Mc Aran's Garden, Philadelphia,) occurred from the interruptions of the tavern -keeping inter est which was largely represented. This confusion was re vived during the speeches of all who followed him. The 11 134 TRAVELS IN FRANCE speeches, especially those of Samuel Bowley, Esq., of Glou cester, and of the Honorary Secretary, Samuel Pope, Esq., were very good pieces of eloquence. I would only add as to Exeter Hall, that it is situated in the Strand, about half way between the west end and the city proper, and that it must be capable of accommodating at least four thousand people. There is a great lack of doors if a, fire should ever occur during a meeting. There is, in addition to the churches that I have spoken of, another church that I would have visited before this if I could possibly have made it convenient to do so, and which I would like to look at before leaving : I speak of the Church of the Crusaders, which is situated down an alley in the neighs borhood of Temple Bar, and which, with its figures of knights in bronze, (recumbent on the marble tombs on the floor,) persons well informed in such matters assert to be well wor thy of a stranger's attention. I fear, however, that want of time will prevent me from gratifying my desire. Yours, &c, M. F. NO. XVII. Visit to tile British Museum — Where Located — Its Antiquities — Grecian— Italian— Roman — Old British — Ninevite — Obelisk — Rosetta Stone — Mummies — Elgin Mar bles — Phigalean Marbles — Columns from the Mausoleum — Etruscan Vases — Terra cottas — Portland Vase, &c. — Irish Arrow-heads — Skene — The Great Charter — Library — Ninevite Sculptures — Pannels of Alabaster — Bronze Dishes 2500 Years of Age — Roman Mosaic — Altars — Votive Tablets — Miniatures of British Cromlechs — Objects from the Field of Nature, &c— Visit to Crystal Palace — Town of Sydenham — Dermody — Campbell — Railroad — Entrance by Colonnade — Extent of Grounds— Of Palace — All Glass — At the Heat of Madeira — Egyptian Temple, &c. — Assyrian Ar chitecture — Greek Agora — Parthenon — Roman Forum — Colosseum, &c. — Pompeian House — Casts of Sculptures — Portrait Gallery — Orange-Trees — Palms — Date-palms — Olive-Trees — Pomegranates— Machinery — Musical Band — Park and Gardens- Plant 3000 Years Old. London, June, 1855. Until just now, I have been in doubt as to the course I might conclude to take ; whether I should stay in town with the view of visiting some places that I have not yet seen, amoDg others the Church of the Crusaders; or whether I should, on to-morrow afternoon, go up to Egham, and thence to Windsor. I have concluded to go to Egham and AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 135 Windsor. It is with regret that I give up the idea of going to the Church of the Crusaders ; but, intending soon to leave for Ireland, and having already seen many beautiful specimens of medieval architecture, as well as seen tombs with the effigies stretched on them, (in bronze, or of some other suitable mate rial,) ofthe persons buried in them, — both originals, and the admirable fac-similes of such objects that have been introduced into the Crystal Palace, — I have come to the conclusion that at this time I will postpone my interest in the beautiful old church of the Knights Templars, as well as in the other things that I might view if staying in the city, to the desire that- I entertain to see something of the country up the Thames, to stand on the verdant flats of Runnimede, and to visit Windsor. To-day, as it happens, partly from a slight indisposition and partly from the state of the weather, I must be confined within-doors. This being the state of the case, I have con cluded to sit down and write out my notes in relation to my visits to the British Museum and the Sydenham Crystal Palace. These places are well worth all the attention that the stranger can conveniently pay to them. I passed an en tire day in the Museum and two entire days in the Crystal Palace, and certainly my time was not misspent. First, as to my visit to the Museum. The edifice which contains this noble institution stands on Great Russell Street, and is close to both Russell and Bed ford squares, and not any very great distance to the north west of the celebrated square so well known by the name of Lincoln's Inn Fields. Its distance from Waterloo Bridge I judge to be between one-half and three-quarters of a mile, in a direction nearly northward. The edifice itself is spacious and imposing. In its shape it is qudrangular, and it is two thousand feet in circuit. It .stands on the place, if I do not err, which had formerly been occupied by Montague House, which had been, a century ago, appropriated to the recep tion of the collection of natural and artificial curiosities, and of the library, which had been the property of Sir Hans Sloane. The present fine building has been erected within the last thirty years. There are few, if any, finer collections of objects of interest, anywhere to be found, than are those collections here gathered together. To only a few of the things in them, however, can I make reference. 136 TRAVELS IN FRANCE The gatherings here of antiquities are very noble, even after one has seen the splendid collections of the French capital. Here are antiquities from ancient Egypt, from ancient Greece, from ancient Rome and other parts of Italy, from Britain of the olden time, and from Nineveh. The hoary days of Egypt are here well represented. First, there is an obelisk from that country, but of small size, being only eleven feet in height, which once stood before the Tem ple of Thoth, the Egyptian Hermes. It had originally been seized on by the army of Bonaparte with a view to its re moval to Paris, but, being captured by Sir Ralph Abercrom bie, was carried to England. According to the best author ity, obelisks were first raised in honor of the sun, and were meant to represent, in their shape, a pencil of light. It is affirmed that, after the conquest of Egypt by the Persians, (525 B.C.,) no more were cut, but that any subsequently erected were merely transferred from an old site to a new one. Egyptian obelisks, therefore, must always be very ancient. On the one in Paris the name of Sesostris, as the founder, is inscribed, who reigned, according to the common chronology, 1491 years before Christ, or not very long after the departure of the Israelites from Egypt; or who was, according to some chronologists, on the Egyptian throne still earlier, having been the father of the Pharaoh who per ished beneath the Red Sea. If this latter opinion be the correct one, then Moses will have stood and gazed, just as I have lately done, on one or both of the obelisks with respect to which 1 am speaking. Again, here is the famous Rosetta Stone which, it is supposed, dates back to 200 years before Christ. The letters on this stone, (which is basalt, and which I inspected very carefully,) are considerably faint; and it is also somewhat mutilated. It was dug up by the French during their occupation of Egypt, while building a foft near Rosetta, and, from them, captured by the British. There is on it a decree in relation to Ptolemy Epiphanes, which is written in three sets of characters, to wit, the Greek, the enchorial or popular, and the hieroglyphic or sacred. The Greek inscription concludes thus, Upuiq xm erXwpuug xai * 'ekhjvuu'.z rpaiJ.>j.oh, which signifies, "In sacred, in popular, * The manner in which, by means of the Rosetta Stone, hierogly phics were first deciphered, is curious. An elliptical oval, drawn like a ring, around a group of characters, was remarked, on it, fre- AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 13T and in Greek letters." This stone has been, to the moderns, a chief key to a knowledge of the hieroglyphics of the ancient Egyptian priests and philosophers. Again, here is a com plete statue of Memnon, of nine and one-half feet in height ; and, in connection with it, the head of a colossal statue of the same personage, (though not of that statue which, at the rising of the sun, gave forth musical sounds,) that, when complete, must have been twenty-four feet in height. Again, here is an admirably preserved mummy from the Egyptian Thebes; the priestess of Amera. She is clothed in linen painted over with the likenesses of the gods of her country. As I looked at her, I could not help exclaiming, — What a poor relic of a human being 1 Yet, on the other hand, what a practical knowledge of chemistry the ancient peo ple of Egypt had, to be able to preserve a body, in such wonderful integrity, down to the present day ; the moderns, with all their boasted chemical skill, being unable to do this for more than a few years. But what seemed to me at first altogether strange was that the hands of the pries^ss were crossed on her bosom. Before, I had thought the cross was the peculiar emblem of Christianity. However, on in vestigation I have found that the ancient dwellers in the Valley of the Nile used the same emblem long before our Lord's advent, and that it is of frequent recurrence amng the hieroglyphics. Indeed, the Christians of a very early period had had their curiosity excited by this very thing. And to satisfy this curiosity, as we learn from Socrates Scholasticus, certain "converted heathens," who had been Egyptian priests and acquainted with the meaning of the quently to occur. The same ring and characters, it was perceived, were to be met with in an hieroglyphical inscription on an obelisk brought from Phila>, the Greek inscription on which speaks of Ptol emy and Cleopatra. This word thus enclosed was guessed to stand for the proper name, Ptolemy. On the obelisk, another elliptical oval was also observed, which was supposed to denote Cleopatra. Oh comparing the ovals, (that on the Rosetta Stone with that on the l'hilas Obelisk,) tho first character in Ptolemy, a square block, was discovered to answer to the fifth in Cleopatra, and was inferred to be P. A knotted cord was observed to be the third letter in Ptolemy, and the fourth in Cleopatra, being inferred to be 0. >In a similar way the letter L, denoted by a lion, was brought out. Again, a hawk was seen to be the sixth and the ninth character in Cleopatra, and it was inferred to have the force of A. Such was the beginning ofthe clew to the lost alphabet of hieroglyphical writing. 11* 138 TRAVELS IN ERANCE hieroglyphics, "explained the symbol, and declared that it signified life to come." If it were not for this explana tion I would have supposed that the crossing of the hands on the bosom denoted submission, since this attitude on the part of the conquered, — the fingers of the open hands being placed on the tips of the shoulders, — always signifies uncon ditional and totally unresisting surrender to superior power. Again, here is the coffin of Cleopatra of the family of Soter, belonging to the Roman period ; this coffin having the shape nearly of a long rectangular box, but with the top rounded. Again, here is the mummied corpse and the coffin of Soter, Archon of Thebes ; this relic likewise belonging to the pe riod of the Roman rule in Egypt. I would remark that, among the ancient Egyptians, only persons of distinction were buried in coffins. And, also, here is a number of other mummies, with their cases stripped off. Of ancient Grecian curiosities there is a large collection, but, as was the case as to the Egyptian antiquities, I can only refer to a few of them. First, I mention the marbles collected in Greece and brought to England, in 1814, by Lord Elgin ; and which the British government bought from him for £35,000 sterling. These splendid remains of anti quity afford some of the finest specimens of ancient art. With respect to them, the first modern sculptors and paint ers have expressed themselves in terms of the highest admi ration. The largest part of them, ninety-two pieces, was taken from the Parthenon, (that is, the Temple of the Virgin,. to wit, Minerva,) at Athens. These consist of such of the sculptures decorating the pediments as had remained when the removal to England was effected, of many of the metopes, and of a large part of the frieze. As the Parthenon was built in the time of Pericles, (about 450-440 B.C.,) and Phi dias was employed in relation to it, it may be, and it has be"en, supposed that he either executed these works in part, or was at least the author of the designs for them. I cannot help remarking that Paul, when in Athens, no doubt gazed on the things on which I have lately been looking. Again, I mention the Phigalean Marbles which are here to be seen. These were discovered among the ruins of a temple near Phigalea in Arcadia, and are to be referred to about the same time at which the Parthenon was built. They consist of a series of sculptures in alto-relievo ; (that is, the figures AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 139 projecting considerably, yet without being detatched;) and represent the fight, so celebrated in Grecian mythology, of the two rude Thessalian races, the Centaurs and the Lapi- thas : they also represent the battle of the Grecians and those fabled heroines, the Amazons. These sculptures have received great admiration. Besides, I ought not to omit to mention two pieces of columns, — with writing on them, — from the mausoleum erected in Halicarnassus by the younger Artemisia, queen of that city, in honor of her deceased hus band, Mausolus ; which mausoleum was for a long time, not merely one of the wonders of Asia Minor, but one of the seven wonders of the world. Also, here is a rich collection of ancient Italian and ancient Roman antiquities. Of these, those that were accu mulated by Charles Townley, a gentleman of fine taste, and of large fortune, (who died in 1805,) are, of themselves, suffi cient for a respectable museum ; — I mean in this particular line of antiquities. He collected both Egyptian and Grecian antiquities ; and, in addition to these, a large number of Etrus can vases, of valuable medals, and of ancient works in terra cotta, (that is, baked pipe-clay, as I may, in passing, explain,) both entire figures and reliefs, — the terra-cottas having been gathered by him, during a residence in Tuscany and Rome, with great trouble and expense. But the most noted anti quity of ancient Rome in the Museum, probably, is the Port land Vase, — so named from the Duchess of Portland, who bought it for a thousand guineas. No one is permitted to see this except by special application to a person having charge of the institution. It was found near Rome, in a sarcophagus supposed, for some reason or other, to be that of Alexander Severus and his mother. It is about ten inches in height, by six in diameter where broadest, and is of a very deep dark-blue glass dipped in a white enamel ; this exterior coating having been cut away so as to leave certain admirably executed human figures on the vessel,— which fig ures are supposed to represent the history of Alceste, who is restored to Admetus by Hercules. Some years ago it had been shattered into fragments, by an insane man, but the broken parts have been, with extraordinary skill, reunited. I would only further observe, in relation to it, that it be longs to that class of antique Murrhine vases, which was made not of natural but of artificial materials, and that it is 140 TRAVELS IN ERANCE regarded as one of the most precious gems of ancient art. Besides the Portland Vase, I would mention a fictile painted vase belonging probably to about the time of Alexander. It is of great value as an antique : indeed it is. an antique not merely in our day, but, "even in the time ofthe empire, painted vases were termed 'operis antiqui,' and were then sought for in the ancient tombs of Campania and of other parts of Greece in Italy." More than this, the discovery of some vessels of this description in some old tombs at Capua, even in the days of Julius Csesar, was thought worthy of a particular mention by a grave historian, Suetonius. The particular vase, that has led to these remarks, has repre sented on it Hercules and his companions in the gardens of the Hesperides, and the race of Atalanta and Hippomenes. In spite of some carelessness on the part of the painter, it is regarded as perhaps the best specimen of vase-painting that has yet been discovered. With respect to this art itself, I remark that its exercise is supposed to have ceased with the destruction of Corinth, or about 145 years before Christ. I ought now to say a word of some few of the antiquities of the Britain of by-gone days, which have been here col lected. But I can say only a word. They are, however, both numerous and important. Among them are old British ornaments of gold, and flint arrow-heads from Ireland, with an iron arrow-head from Meath in. that country. Among them I observed, too, an Irish skene, an old weapon whose use corresponded to that of the Bowie knife of the South west. It was also employed for the terrible purpose of cut ting, at the joints of their armor, the throats of the knights who had been overthrown in melee, but who, on account of the impenetrable character of this armor, were still not any thing more than stunned by their fall. It is a sword-knife of about sixteen inches in length. But far the most import ant of the British antiquities here presented is an original copy, (or I ought to say copies, there being, as I afterwards learned, two such papers,) of the Great Charter of Liberties, which is preserved in the Cottonian Library. When I say a copy of the Great Charter, I refer to the fact that, as soon as this instrument was signed and completed; copies of it were sent to each county or diocese in England ; and the paper preserved in the British Museum is one of these. The hand writing itself is a curiosity. My having spoken of the Cot- AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 141 tonian Library suggests the remark that the library of the institution, of which I am speaking, is perhaps among the best in existence. It is composed of the original Cottonian library, which was collected by Sir Robert Bruce Cotton, who died in 1631 ; ofthe classical library, and of the news papers, collected by the celebrated Greek scholar, Dr. Bur ney, who died in 1817 ; and of the Harleyan Manuscripts, gathered by Robert Harley, Earl of Oxford, so celebrated as a statesman in the reign of Queen Ann ; together with large additions made from other quarters? There is a read ing-room connected with the library, and, upon a visitor's pulling ofthe bell-rope, the book desired is at once brought by an attendant. But there is not, in the Museum, anything of the character of antiquities more interesting than those accessions that have been made to it from the East, by the traveler Layard. Here, from Nineveh, are immense masses of rock, hewn by the sculptor into shapes partly human, partly bestial, and partly birdlike. Here, in connection with these, are two gigantic human figures of such vastness that a man beside them sinks into the most insignificant littleness. The for mer sculptures consist of winged lions and bulls. The bulls have the body, legs, and feet of a bull; immense wings like an eagle, extending back from the shoulders to the hinder extremity of the animal ; and the head like that of a man from whose face a great beard flows down over the breast. The lions nearly correspond in appearance to the bulls, except as to the body and legs. These sculptures re present Assyrian deities; the human head denoting intelli gence, the bestial body strength, and the wings swiftness. Also, here, in a hall fitted for the purpose, and kept peren nially warmed by day and night, are pannels of alabaster, brought from excavations made by the same traveler, on which are represented, — on some more faintly, on- others very distinctly, — numerous scenes of peace and war, of con quest and triumph, and of subjection and captivity ; scenes in which appear the conquering monarch with his soldiers, and the vanquished chiefs with their warriors crest-fallen and prisoners. To go somewhat into particulars as to the objects represented on the pannels, or tablets, spoken of. On one of them, the eye of the beholder, as it wanders to and fro, over the scenes pictured, fixes on a god with a face 142 TRAVELS IN FRANCE like a bird. Then we have our attention drawn to a bust of Esar-Haddon, with a long, square beard flowing down, a king of Assyria who terminated' his career more than 800 years before Christ, and who had succeedd to the throne While Hezekiah sat on the throne of Jerusalem ; that Assy rian king who planted the. heathen in the inheritance of the ten tribes carried captive. Then, in another scene, we have represented to us another Ninevite king, with a sword by his side, a bow in one hand and arrows in the other, an attendant holding- a parasol over his head, and many ser vants, on foot, leading chariot horses. Then we have, represented to us, a body of cavalry, some of whom are lying resting with their saddled horses standing hard-by, some struggling with rearing horses, and others on the gallop but checking their impetuous steeds. Then we have representa tions of Assyrian war-chariots, three horses abreast in each, two men only in each chariot, one driving and the other shooting with a bow ; while, under the wheels of some of the chariots, foemen lie prostrate and helpless. And then, in one place, we have a picture of Assyrian warriors seeking to take a walled city by assault, and in another a picture of them attempting the capture of a similarly protected city by cautious advances. Such are a few of the scenes pictured on the Nineveh tablets, at least 2675 years old; with which the walls of one apartment of this Museum is incrusted. And in connection with these things are to be seen certain arrow-headed inscriptions which have been recently, and in a remarkable manner, deciphered by Colonel Rawlinson and Dr. Hincks. Here, from the long-buried kitchens and rooms in the mansions of Nineveh, are even some of those utensils that were used in common life ; bowls and dishes of bronze. Strange, wonderful, that all these things should see the light, in such a state of preservation, after the long lapse of eighty-nine eventful generations ! The only other antiquities, which I will here mention, are, a fine piece of ancient Roman Mosaic, three ancient al tars of libations, (one smooth and the other two sculptured,) three sacrificial altars, (one of them having been consecrated to Jupiter Ammon and the other two to Apollo,) another altar, round in shape and resembling, at the top, a huge cheese, except as to its hollowness in the centre, and quite a number of votive tablets. While speaking of these AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 143 Greek and Roman religious antiquities, I may mention that here are miniature fac-simles of two British antiquities of a religious character ; a fac-simile of the Cromlech of Duf- frin in South Wales, and another of the double Cromlech in Anglesea. As to the cromlech, I remark that it is composed of an immense large stone flat on the upmost side, which is commonly supported by three small ones ; that it is located in a Druidical circle or near a large standing stone ; and that it seems to have been an altar of sacrifice, since in the countries of the North of Europe, where these objects are not uncommon, such a stone is still named a blood-stone. So much for the antiquities of this Museum ; I will now say a very little of a number of the very fine specimens of objects from the field of nature, here assembled, in which I took a deep interest, some of them being new to me, and others being such things as I had long had some familiarity with. Here are, in glass cases, and carefully arranged, numerous specimens of the following valuable substances, to wit : amber of various colors, a substance highly esteemed by the ancients, which is still wrought into beautiful small vessels and into ornaments, and which is remarkable as that with which Thales, more than 2400 years ago, performed the first experiments in electricity ; topaz of various forms and colors, a gem which, if it were not furnished so abund antly by nature, would command the very highest price ; alabaster, a substance much and justly valued by the ancients for columns, statues, vases to contain lamps, and boxes to hold perfumes; Spanish marbles in great variety ; corundum, or adamantine spar, of various colors ; varieties of chalce dony, the common chalcedony, the carnelian, the Oriental carnelian, and the sardonyx, — these chalcedonic substances being not only in their natural state, but also having been worked into seals, spoons, and other articles ; agate ; moss- agate ; jasper ; agate jasper ; porcelain jasper ; rock crystal ; opal in several varieties ; garnet in a number of varieties ; chrysolite ; and beryl and emerald ; together with the, sap phire, ruby, and both common and Oriental amethyst. Here, also, are specimens of the diamond, (the most precious of the gems,) and fac-similes in glass of some of the most cele brated, as the Kohinoor diamond, and that diamond in the Russian sceptre which had once belonged to Shah Nadir. I was also much interested in the meteoric stones, and the 144 TRAVELS IN FRANCE huge mass of meteoric iron from South America, which are here to be seen. Two theories are advocated in relation to these things ; one is, that they are native to our earth, — the other theory is, that they are substances which are strictly meteoric, having come to us from an immense height in the atmosphere, and which may perhaps, as some have thought, have been projected from volcanoes in the moon. Nor is the supposition of their being lunar absurd, since the same force, which on earth would project a body with four times the violence of a cannon-ball, or ten miles upwards, on the moon would carry it beyond the limited sphere of that luminary's attraction, and consequently to our globe. If this hypothe sis should be sustained, then aerolites and meteoric iron, though not the rarest, would be the greatest of all natural curiosities. With respect to this iron, I would add that it has more the appearance of a light gray-colored steel than of our common iron. I will not say anything more in relation to the British Museum, except this, that its riches, in all departments, can scarcely be described short of a volume, and that I feel that the dry catalogue of some of its contents, that I have given, can scarcely do more than belittle it in your estima tion : what I have said falls far, immeasurably far, below the reality. I will now proceed, in the second place, to give you some account of my visits to the Crystal Palace at Sydenham.f This beautiful town, as you are aware, is situated about eight miles to the southeast of London Bridge, near which my hotel is. It was in Sydenham that the gifted Irish poet, Thomas Dermody, died in 1802, the victim in early life of a hapless fondness for the intoxicating cup. Also it was the residence of the author of " The Pleasures of Hope," Thomas Campbell, who in it wrote his Gertrude of Wyoming. For going thither every facility exists, a railroad, on which trains run every half hour, beginning within one hundred yards of the bridge spoken of above, and extending to the very edge of the huge crystal fabric. The first-class cars on this road are remarkably fine. When the visitor reaches the railway terminus at the Palace he finds himself at the lower extremity of a long colonnade, as it is called, of seven hundred and twenty feet in length. This colonnade is a covered way of glass, and on each side of the plank walk by which he as- AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 145 cends, are planted choice exotics almost without number. He is thus brought to the south wing of the edifice. Through this he proceeds into the main enclosure or floor. Then what an overwhelming sense of vastness bursts upon the mind ! What a feeling of blended splendor, and novelty, and variety I And what admiration does the new style of architecture call forth ! Nor are these feelings tamed down by a continued examination on the part of the stranger : on the contrary, as he examines all around, they grow. Within the two hundred acres which the palace, garden, and park, cover, he finds, brought together to an unsurpassed degree, — perhaps I ought to say an unrivaled, — the beauties of na ture, the treasures of art, and the marvels ef science. The main building is 1608 feet in length, to which are to be added the wings, each wing being 574 feet in length ; and the height and width are proportioned to the length. There are also two galleries, (one above the other,) running around the edifice. When this grand structure, — which is raised on an eminence, is composed of a bright thick glass, and has a most noble regular irregularity of outline, roof, and height- glitters in the sun, it forms a spectacle of brilliancy and splen dor such as no human imagination, in picturing forth the castles of romance, could, in its wildest and loftiest concep tions, ever dream into being. Even Satan's royal seat de scribed by Milton, as situated within "the limits of the north," " High on a hill, far blazing, as a mount Raised on a mount, with pyramids, and towers, From diamond quarries hewn, and rooks of gold," fails, at once, to stand in the comparison when brought into competition with the edifice of which I am speaking. The surrounding scenery, the site, the outlines, the magnitude, the material, all combine to heighten the general effect. And all the vast space in the interior of this great building is occupied by things remarkable for either their antiquity, their rareness, their beauty and taste, the distance from which they were brought, the skill which they display, or for something else greatly valued among men. Here geology, ethnology, and zoology, are extensively illustrated ; here are fae-similes of celebrated works of architecture from the whole world : here are casts of the most celebrated works of sculp- • 12 146 TRAVELS IN FRANCE ture : here are specimens of the chief manufactures of the world : here, in the basement, is the vastest collection of machinery ; and here, around, is the noblest exhibition of taste in gardening. But I must observe some order in what I say that I may be understood. • First, as to the building itself. — It is the same, though en larged by almost one-half, that formerly contained the great exhibition in Hyde Park, whence it was removed to its present site. The edifice, immense as it is, consists entirely, above the floor, of iron and glass; even the roof is glass, — ¦ this glass, which is in furrows and ridges, being one-thir teenth of an inch in thickness. In the side walls are venti lators, both above and below, for the escape of hot air in the heat of summer ; while in the winter the interior is kept at the heat of Madeira by hot water flowing in pipes from boilers below, to which, when it has begun considerably to cool, it flows back in other pipes. The total area of the. building is 743,656 superficial feet, and the total cost of con structing it is said to have exceeded $7,000,000. This mag nificent structure was planned and carried out by Sir Joseph Paxton. Let us now inspect, in detail, the various styles of architec ture, which are here exhibited. Let us look at the Egyptian, the most ancient of which we have any knowledge. Here are Egyptian lions, the exact verisimilitudes of ones brought from among the antique sculptures of the valley of the Nile. Here is a temple ; and mark the simplicity, the vast propor tions, and the solidity, which it exhibits : mark, too, the palm and lotus-leaved capitals of the columns. Here is another temple with eight vast figures of Rameses the Great, forming its facade. Here are columns, the exact copies of co lumns going back to 1300 years B.C. Here is a copy of a temb found among the grottoes of Beni Hassan, (near the site of the ancient Cynopolis,) the oldest piece of architecture re presented in the Palace. And here is a portion of the cele brated Temple of Karnac, (this being one ofthe villages on the side of the ancient Thebes,) of about 1170 B.C. But leaving these grand extravagances of Egypt, — inferior as extrava gances only to the Pyramids, — let us look at the representa tions given of Assyrian architecture. This style of architec ture was nearly unknown to Europeans till a dozen years ago ; yet it was it which long prevailed at Nineveh, Babylon, and AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 147 Jerusalem, and at Susa and Persepolis. The style, in the buildings of all these cities, was the same, though the mate rials were widely different, sometimes sunburnt bricks, some times fireburnt bricks, "and at other times stones of various kinds ; these various substances being largely combined with wood, generally cedar. In it, also, the costlier buildings were often lined with sculptured slabs. Bright coloring, bold ornaments, and gigantic imaginary creatures, are among the decorations of this mode of building. The palace of Sargon, (the successor of Shalmaneser,) that of Sennacherib, and that of Esarhaddon and Sardanapalus, in ancient As syria, the palace of Nebuchadnezzar at Babylon, and of Darius and Xerxes at Susa, (these various edifices having ex isted between about 720 and 500 b.c ,) furnish the illustrations here given of this style. Leaving the ancient architecture of the Orient, let us glance next at the architecture of ancient Greece in her best days ; so simple, beautiful, truthful, grace ful, and admirable in its designs and proportions. Here we have a part of a Greek agora, (or public square,) with its stoa or porch ; a model of the Parthenon ; (the largest model of that edifice that was ever constructed ;) a model of the Tem ple of Neptune ; massive antse, (or square pillars,) fashioned after the antes often met with in the ruins of classic Greece ; and panneled ceiling adopted from the Temple of Apollo, at Bassae, in Arcadia ; together with many other things which I will not attempt to enumerate. O once gtorious but now fallen Greece, lingering amid these restored monuments of thy prosperous days, with my dull imagination ! * * * * " Hence let me trace The latent grandeur of thy dwelling-place. It may not be; nor can fancy's eye Restore what time hath labor'd to deface.'' Now I go to the part of the area_ set' apart to the illustra tion of the Roman style of architecture. Two things mainly attracted my attention. I was greatly struck with admi ration of the naturalness of the copy of the ancient Ro man Forum. Resides, the model of a portion of the outer wall of the Colosseum at Rome, pierced with arches and or namented with Tuscan columns, is, even beyond the Forum, worthy of admiring inspection. Next, the Byzantine and Romanesque style, following the order of time, claims no- 148 TRAVELS IN FRANCE tice. This style was that which was adopted under Con stantine, and which subsequently prevailed in the building of Christian churches ; its churches being oblong, with a row of columns on each side at a considerable distance from the walls, the one end of the edifice terminating in a semicircu lar recess. Such, undoubtedly, was the original form of the Christian church, the model for it having been found in the Roman basilica or court-house. Then followed churches built after the fashion of the Greek cross, with a dome over the point in each edifice where the parts intersect each other. Next, I come to illustrations of the Moorish, or Alhambra style, a style remarkable, among other things, for its beauti ful arches of a horseshoe form, for its fine colors, and for its beautiful Mosaic pavements. Of this style we have here the noblest and most superb exemplifications. Of these I will re fer to the fac-simile of the Court of the Lions in the fortress- palace of the Alhambra, near Granada, to that of the Hall of Justice in the same palace, and to that also of the hall called after the Moorish tribe of the Abencerrages, the Hall of the Abencerrages. Leaving the Moorish style, I next come to the Italian, French, German, and English medieval styles. Then follows the Renaissance or Revived Roman. And lastly, I come into contact with the modern Italian style. All these various styles are most happily illustrated in the Crystal Palace. But, while speaking of the architecture of which, in the edifice that I have been describing, we have- examples, the Pompeian House, which has been constructed to represent the dwelling of the ancient gentleman, — the recovered city of Pompeii furnishing the model for this building, — cannot be passed by. Here we see illustrated the veritable manner in which the wealthy Roman of ancient Rome, in his best days, lived. As to this house let a few words suffice. The ground on which. it is erected is ofthe shape of a rectangle, or oblong, of which the depth is twice as great as the width, the depth extending back from the street. This rectangle is then divided into two squares, between which there are two fauces or passages; these passages being#separated by a room central to the whole building, and used as a drawing- room. The square next the street, — which has its roof so constructed as to leave an open space in the centre of the roof, called the compluvium, — is called the atrium or recep- AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 149 tion-room, and has a marble water reservoir in the centre, called the impluvium. Around this apartment are two large, and four small bed-chambers, and also two alee, or recesses, for the transaction of business with strangers. This part of the house was open to all having any reason for making a call on its owner. The other part of the rectangle, that most distant from the street, was called the peristyle, and to it strangers had access only by special invitation. It, also, has an opening in the roof, and beneath this, a small garden corresponding, a good deal, to the pleasaunces cultivated in the middle ages in the quadrangle of castles. Around the square of the peristyle are pillars or columns. It contains, also around it, beyond these columns, numerous apartments, and has a porta postica or back door. The back part of it contains a kitchen, a recess for the household gods, and a bath-chamber. There are, besides these, the bed-chamber of the master of the house, a summer dining-room, and a winter dining-room, with one or two other apartments for bed-chambers. With respect to the windows of the Pom- peian House, I observe that they all open inward upon the courts, except two, which open on the street, — or, I ought rather to say, the nave of the palace. And with respect to the roof of this house, I remark that it is what is called a ridger-roof. I would only further add, in relation to this admirably constructed and beautifully decorated antique dwelling, that on the days when I was in it (which I sup pose is always the case) there were standing, against the walls of its kitchen apartment, several pitchers which, in the year of our Lord 79, were buried in Pompeii, with that over whelmed city, by the mingled ashes, pumice, lapilli, water, sand, and rocks, ejected at the time referred to from Mount Vesuvius, then, after the repose of many ages, awakening to resume his ancient reign of fire. Having looked at specimens of the various styles of archi tecture, let us now examine the vast collection, which has been here made, of the various works of sculpture in different parts of the world. Of ancient master-pieces of Greek and Roman sculpture there are between four and five hundred admirably executed casts ; and of modern master-pieces of sculpture, — Italian, French, German, and English, — there are nearly three hundred casts. No one can conceive the vastness of these collections without passing through them. 12* 150 TRAVELS IN FRANCE Nor do these casts fail to represent, with undoubted faithful ness, their noble originals, as I myself can, to some extent, testify, having seen a number of the originals. You will excuse me from attempting to specify, as particularly worthy of laudation, any individual sculptures, since an effort at this, where there is such a multitude of unrivaled works, would necessarily lead me into too wide a field. Let me now lead you into the portrait gallery of the Palace. Here is something like five hundred casts of the most distinguished persons that have lived, beginning with the blind Homer, and ending with Queen Victoria and Prince Albert ; " artists, musicians, poets, dramatists, scien tific men, authors, statesmen, soldiers, prelates, theologians, and royal personages." This gallery is sufficient of itself to occupy a day. Next, let me introduce you to the assemblage of Oriental trees that here grow, especially the orange, the palm, the date-palm, the olive, and the pomegranate. The specimens of all these trees are numerous and various. When one wanders among them he almost feels himself in the lands celebrated in the writings of prophets and apostles. Nor, when looking at the trees, should the cedars, planted around, though not yet so very large, be overlooked. Next, let us go around the industrial courts and gaze on what they contain. And next, let us go into the basement story and examine the immense assemblage of novel ma chinery of all kinds — an assemblage with which not anything else of the sort can, anywhere else, come for a moment into competition. But a voice of music is beginning, like the far-off " noise of many waters," to pervade the immense edifice, and thus summoned, let me ask you to return with me to the main floor. A numerous band of musicians, containing sixty most accomplished performers, — these standing on an elevated platform, and all wearing the peculiar uniform of the Crystal Palace company, — are powerfully discoursing, with instru ments of all sorts, the grandest conceivable successions and concords of sweet sounds ; these strains from them, mean while, as they fall on the listener's ear, "breathing such divine enchanting ravishment" as well " might create a soul under the ribs of Death." AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 151 "Play on: Give me excess of it that, surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, and so die. That strain again ! it had a dying fall : Oh ! it came o'er my ear, like the sweet south, That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing, and giving, odor." With such music is the attention of the visitors diverted during the lapse of a part of the afternoon of each day. After the band had marched away, I proceeded to take a stroll, each day, in the park and gardens. These are not yet, by any means, finished, but when completed it will be hard to rival them. Some idea of the scale of magnificence on which they are laid out may be formed, when I mention that they contain two terraces, the upper one of which is 1576 feet in length by 48 in width, and the lower one 1656 feet between the wings, by 512 in width; the walls of these terraces being built of Bath stone, and having projecting bays, or alcoves, containing pedestals supporting statues or flower vases. Again, the grand central walk is no less than 96 feet in width. Again, they contain a large lake, (with two geolo gical islands in it,) two basins, three reservoirs, eight foun tains, and two cascades. I cannot stop to give the sizes of all these expanses of water, but some notion may be formed as to them by my mentioning that one of the basins is 196 feet in diameter, that the stone-work surrounding each of the cascades is a mile in extent, and that each of the basins is 784 feet in length by 468 feet at its broad part. Again, they contain two vast wheel-shaped roseries, or cir cular labyrinths of rose bushes, these bushes produciig roses of all possible hues and complexity of leaves ; and I would add, that each rosery is, as I judge, not less than 460 or 470 feet in diameter. And, again, they contain admirably exe cuted copies of a large number of celebrated antique statues, the Farnese Hercules, the graceful Mercury of Thorwaldsen, the Venus of Milo, and the Paris by Canova ; and, along with these, numerous allegorical statues, as of Glasgow, Liverpool, Belfast, Manchester, Sheffield, and Birmingham, and of South America, Turkey, and Greece, China, India, Egypt, Zollverein, and Holland, Belgium, the United States, and Canada, and Russia. But what I have told you can give but a faint conception of the blended magnificence and 152 TRAVELS IN FRANCE beauty that this park and these gardens display. I will con clude my account of them by observing that, in the park, all the unpruned wildness of nature is to be met with, and, as to the gardens, that that part of them lying immediately in the neighborhood of the palace is cultivated after the plan of the Italian garden, with its temples, statuary, urns, vases, fish-ponds, formal alleys, and trees planted with preciseness, and that the part of them more distant is in the English style, which discards such excessive art and combines the regular and irregular ; the two styles being, by imperceptible gradations, blended so as to avoid all appearance of abrupt ness in the transition from the1 one to the other. But what seemed to me a curiosity as extraordinary as anything in, or in connection with the palace, was two plants that are in close propinquity to a number of palm-trees. These plants, which belong to the race of plants called the Elephantopus, (or the Elephant's Foot,) resemble blocks of wood. They were brought from the Cape of Good Hope, and they are supposed to be three thousand years old, being the longest-lived of all things that grow. Just think of looking at, and handling, plants now existing, that began to grow some time about that period in the world's history, in which Ulysses died in Greece and Jephtha was born in the Land of Israel. Surely such a sight is worth more, by a great deal, than a sight of the Nahant sea-serpent. But it is now time that I should conclude my long, and perhaps to you, wearisome epistle. I subscribe myself yours, &c, M. F. NO. XVIII. Journey to, &c— Staines — Egham — Independent Chapel — Preaching — Runnimede — : Magna Charta Islet— b40 years ago— Old Windsor— Home Park— Windsor Castle— , Hotel— Town— Eton— Stroll in Castle— Worship on Sabbath— Wolscy's Tomb-noose — Gardens — Parks — Windsor Forest — Stoke Poge's Churchyard — Gray— The Penns. London, June, 1855. : I purpose, in this letter, to give you some account ofthe excursion I have been making to Egham, Runnimede, and Windsor ; from which places I returned last night. AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 153 On last Saturday morning I 'started from South wark, taking passage by railroad to Staines — which lies on the north bank of the Thames, at the distance of nineteen miles W.S.W. from St. Paul's Cathedral in the heart of London. The railroad passes through the County of Surry for about eight or nine miles, where, at the town of Richmond, it crosses over the Thames into Middlesex, near to the south west corner of which county Staines is situated. At the depot near Staines, which town is a short distance from the road, I left the cars. Without stopping in the place, (which is small,) I passed over the bridge to Egham situated at a short distance from the southern bank of the river. Egham is a somewhat large village, and exceedingly clean and neat, and a stay in it for a time, how short soever, after the bustle of the great metropolis, is delightful. At the end of it next the river is a handsome rectory where the rector of the parish enjoys himself " in otio cum dignitate," and in the heart of it is a handsome parish church. The inn, on which I happened, was both cheap and comfortable. On my arrival, learning that there was to be preaching in Inde pendent Chapel, which lies on the road at the end of the town farthest away from the river, I repaired thither; Here I heard a most excellent discourse. The chapel, I learned, was vacant, and the gentleman who preached, a supply. His sermon, I thought, very superior both as to spirit, matter, style, and elocution. I have never listened to a man whose voice was better modulated, or whose gestures were more graceful and appropriate. I need not say that he did not read. I inquired his name and was told that it was Doctor * * * * ; but unfortunately, not having tfcen it down at the time, I am unable to give it to you. The build ing, which in this place belongs to the Congregationalists, though not large, is substantial and tasteful. It bears some resemblance, — but is on a much smaller scale, — to the Crip plegate Church in London, of which I have already written to you. There was one thing in the service that grated harshly on my feelings : the people all sat, except the offi ciating minister, in prayer ; in my humble opinion, a most lazy, most undevotional, and most unimpressive posture. It has always seemed to me a lazy thing for a child to say its prayers in bed with the blankets about it ; but this seemed worse. By all means, let the people stand, as the Publican, 154 TRAVELS IN FRANCE in the gospels, is represented as having done ; or let them bow down. Shortly after the conclusion of religious services, I started on -foot to go to Windsor, which lies to the northwestward of Egham ; the day being" clear, mild, genial, and pleasant. I returned through the village to near the end of it next the river, where there is a lane that turns off from the street at a right angle, and, following it for a short way, found myself in the lower: end :of an immense meadow extending up along the southern bank of the Thames. This meadow is the fa mous Runnimede. There runs across it, not a road, for the road keeps the bank of the river, but a well-beaten path for the. pedestrian. This directed my steps. The green face, of nature looked exceedingly iloively. i I have seen much of the delightful valleys of the Alleghany Mountains tin all their charms, have wandered through Blennerhasset's Island, in the Ohio, immortalized by the eloquence of Wirt, roamed over ¦ the regions on either bank of that beautiful stream, journeyed .over the wida:flats along the bayous of the Lower Mississippi; : lived among the r prairies of Arkansas, seen somewhat of the .valleys of. the Seine and Somme, — not to say anything,. of the recollections of juvenile days in the greenest and most fertile island of any sea, — and yet have I never beheld any scene surpassing in quiet beauty that which this June afternoon displayed, to my eyes, in the verdant richness, and in the splendid and variegated enameling, ofthe mead over which I then slowly wended my way, The path does not run through the meadows lengthwise, but crosses them with a slant, and thus reaches the main road. Its length, I woultL suppose to be between a mile and a mile and a half. Yet, while on it, I did not meet with a single human being but one. I now proceeded along the highway for some dis tance, when I arrived near to a long narrow islet on the op posite side of the Thames from the road ; and, at no great farness off from it, the meadows run out. This islet, which consists, I was told, of about three acres, (though I myself would not judge it to be so large,) is called Magna Charta Island. The country people reckon it to be two miles from Egham and three miles from Windsor I here.went down to the hank of the river, where I found a man with a boat, who ferried me across to it for a trifle. He informed me that the boat was for the use of the operatives in a neighboring fac- AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 155 tory in their going and returning between their homes and their place of labor. This islet, which is exceedingly low, and which is narrow and flat, is separated from the northern bank by a stream of water not wider than a wide mill-race, and contains a single very neat dwelling for a fisherman or a guardian of the fishery of the river, — 1 do not know which. After examining the island, (which, as I have said, is low and flat, and which is set with quite a quantity of basket- willows,) and going around the grounds of a country-seat on the adjacent bank, for a short time, I returned across to the highway leading between Egham and Windsor. Such is the picture which the field of Runnimede lately presented to me. And surely the natural beauties of the place have a condignity with the great event of which it was the theatre. You will perceive that I make reference to the assembling here of the barons of England, with their vassals and followers, on the 15th of June, 1215. On this day, (a day nearly corresponding in date, as to month and day, to the period in the year at which I passed over it,) six hun dred and forty years ago, the nobility of the land, attended by a vast number of knights, yeomanry, and free peasantry, — all marshaled and armed, — and mainly guided by the coun sels and influence of William, Earl of Pembroke, and of Ste phen Langton, Archbishop of Canterbury, reared on it the far-famed standard of English liberty ; I may almost say, for the first time. A day or two later, the party of the king, King John, encamped hard-by, when conferences were opened between the nearly openly hostile parties. And, on the 19th, these were concluded by the signing, on the Islet of Magna Charta, at the upmost point of the islet, — the spot where the house of the fisherman, which was spoken of above, now stands, — of the Great Charter of Liberties. This instrument, which lays down the principle that the consent of the com munity is necessary to just taxation, and which secures to all freemen the right of habeas corpus, and that of trial by peers, is properly regarded by all men of the English-speak ing race as the first grand security which, at least after the conquest, their ancestors obtained as to their political free dom. But these meadows sacred to freedom are now used for different purposes. On them are held races, and innume rable crowds gather from all quarters to see feats of jockey- 156 TRAVELS IN FRANCE ism and equine speed. They have thus been perverted to be the rendezvous of the man of pleasure, and not only of him but of the gambler and the blackleg. Indeed, from their name, borne from time immemorial, Runnimede, (that is, Running Meadow,) they seem to have been a race-ground, even before the days when Magna Charta was thought of. After losing sight of the island and meadows, which had been to me objects of so much curiosity, and, I would add,' not far from where one passes out of Surry into Berks, I overtook on the road a respectably dressed man and his wife, who, I learned, were returning from Egham to their home in the country. With these I entered into conversa tion. From them I got the traditionary history prevailing, in the recollections of the neighborhood, as to the great event whose memory is associated with the expanse of ground over which we had just come. They said that, a long time ago, there was an old king who lived in Windsor, that turned out to be a very mean old fellow, and that he did not rule the country at all right. So the barons and people of England assembled to go to his castle to talk to him about doing better. But the old fellow was not strong enough to meet them on equal terms, and so, when he found that not anything would keep them from coming, he ran off down the Bucks and Middlesex bank of the Thames, keeping the river between him and the party opposed to him. He stopped, however, with his warriors and party, opposite Runnimede and, on the island that we had lately passed, granted to the nation a paper that gave satisfaction to all. As the island lies on the northern bank, I am satisfied that, as to the side of the river on which the king's party was, this tradition, though very incorrect as to several things, is more correct than many of the histories that relate the transaction. Leaving Datchet, the village where Falstaff was ducked by the merry roysterers, to my right hand, and keeping Old Windsor on the same hand at the distance of three-quarters of a mile, the seat, according to Froissert, of the Round Table in the sixth century, and the site of a palace, (now ho more,) built by the Saxon kings, and occupied occasion ally by the kings after the conquest as late as the First Henry, — I found myself, after a pleasant and slow journey, in the Home Park. At the lower end of the park is one of AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 157 the farms of Prince Albert, a present, as the man above spoken of told me, of Queen Victoria to her husband. The housing on it is good and convenient, but, though very sub stantial and quite roomy, there is little appearance of useless outlay. The soil, I was told, is the best in the park, yet it is not, by any means, naturally very rich. Indeed, the old kings do not seem, at least about Windsor, to have cared about taking the very best land for their pleasure grounds and game preserves. Soon the road brought me to one of the fronts of the royal castle, at the distance of between one- half and three-quarters of a mile to my right. Just oppo site this front, and leading from it, there is a long lane that runs in a straight line across the road at a right angle, ex tending out into the Great Park. Crossing this lane, I reached the town which is at the distance from it of about one-half mile, and ere long had made my way to a tavern not very far from the depot of the railroad by which I pur posed to return to London. As to the appearance of Windsor, I will not say much, since it is so like many other towns of a like population ; this amounting to near ten thousand. It lies in Berkshire, on the right bank of the Thames, which river separates it from Bucks. The chief part of it stands on a hill. There are in it many good residences. Just opposite it, (on the Bucks, or Buckinghamshire bank of the river,) and connected with it by a bridge, is the village of Eton, greatly celebrated for its school. I walked over the bridge to this village which consists of one long winding street. Its school, which was founded by Henry VI. in 1446, and which is richly endowed, has instilled the rudiments of education into the minds of as many celebrated men as any other similar institution in the world. lean scarcely realize that in their schoolboy days Waller, Boyle, Walpole, Bolingbroke, Fielding, Gray, Sher lock, Porson, Chatham, Fox, Lord Grey, Canning, and Wel lington, with many others scarcely less illustrious, have walked, innumerable times, along the' crooked road leading from Windsor to Eton, over which I have been lately mak ing my slow and solitary way. But let me invite you to take a stroll with me in the cas tle, an edifice first reared by the Conqueror, rebuilt by Ed ward III., (the Victor of Crecy,) and since renovated and improved, at an immense cost, by Charles II. and George IV. 13 158 TRAVELS IN FRANCE The whole building, with its enclosed courts, covers about twelve acres. Let us go up to it from the main street of Windsor. This ascent is steep, though not anything com pared with the almost perpendicular ascent on the side next the Thames. First we reach the lower ward, in which is situated Saint George's Chapel, raised (when the castle was about being rebuilt) by Edward III., and improved by Ed ward IV. and Henry VII. ; which is the largest and most elegant of the three royal chapels in England. Still ascend ing, we next reach the keep, or round tower, and then make our way into the upper ward. This is the portion of the edifice which is chiefly occupied by the royal family when rusticating at Windsor. Let us now pass out by a new gate way, which is about being opened, facing the south. Then, looking southward, the great park is spread out before us, a long lane leading to it, at the remote end of which is visible a statue of George III. When here, we are standing before one of the two main fronts of the palace, the south front. We now pass on in the same direction that we had formerly been traveling in, and, by ascending the terrace, (which has on it a number of small cannon,) come to what I viewed as the main front ; which front looks to the east. Here is a garden, or pleasaunce, ornamented by numerous pieces of statuary. And, following the terrace around, we come to the north side of the edifice, where we look down into an abyss steep and deep, on the edge of which the contiguous portion of the wall of the terrace is built. Now, since I feel quite tired with my pedestrian journey from Egham, let me lead you back by nearly the same way to the town, only stopping, as we pass through the keep, to look into a deep dungeon far from daylight, in which prisoners were formerly detained, and which has lately been laid open, for a brief time, to the gaze of visitors, while some improvements are about being made. How many a sad heart, in the days when the king himself directly punished political offences, may that dungeon have witnessed in the darkness of its depths 1 On the Sabbath I worshiped in St. George's. The ser vices, as to their ceremonial, were grand in the extreme, and must have been delightful to those who, love pomp and cir cumstance in worship. The floor was crowded to overflow ing. This edifice, which is pure Gothic, has its interior of the form of an ellipse. Its roof is supported by lofty pillars, AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 159 and is decorated, with innumerable old flags hanging from it. Around the part of the church appropriated to the choir, are the stalls of the sovereign, and knights of the order of the garter, each knight having his particular stall; and there, beneath a carved canopy, hang, — in long remembrance of each deceased knight, — his sword, mantle, crest, helmet, and mouldering banner. Under the floor of the building are laid, in long repose, the bodies of four kings, — Edward IV., the unfortunate Henry VI., the cruel Henry VIII., and Charles I. ; and also the body ofthe queen of Edward IV., that of Jane Seymour, (the third wife of Henry VIII.,) and that of a daughter of Queen Ann. Also, in Cardinal Wol- sey's tomb-house, erected by that proud ecclesiastic in the days of his prosperity as the place where his own clayey tenement would pass into dissolution, — at the east end of the ehapelp-lie the bodies of George III. and his queen; the bodies of George IV., and ofthe Princess Charlotte, his daughter, with her infant son ; the body of William IV. ; and the bodies of the Dukes of York and Kent, sons of George III., and brothers to George IV. and William IV. There were present, at the religious service of which I have been speaking, several of the poor knights of Windsor. At those old decayed military officers, who are here honor ably provided for, I gazed with great intentness. They have their residence just opposite the chapel. I am sorry to have to write to you that, some time after the morning services were over, two military bands, as is usual, stood on the lawn of the terrace, opposite the main front of the castle, discoursing military music till evening, with only the brief interval of the second service. I would remark, in this place, that the Castle of Windsor is best seen on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays ; at least, such is the arrangement at this time, though, I believe, it is variable. On account of not going on one of these days, I missed a view of many things that are worth the being looked at. Among these are the royal guard chambers, containing a fine armory ; the royal audience-chamber, with paintings by West; the queen's presence-chamber, on the tapestry in which the decapitation of the Apostle Paul is represented ; the ball-room ; St. George's Hall, containing a representa tion of the triumph of the Black Prince ; and the beauty- room, so called from its being decorated with portraits of Charles the Second's beauties. 160 TRAVELS IN FRANCE I now proceed to make an observation or two in relation to the gardens, the. parks, and the forest, connected with this ancient stronghold-palace, and in relation to Stoke Poges' Churchyard, which is in its neighborhood. I have but little to say as to the gardens, as, at the time I was there, they were not open to the public. Without see ing them, I may say of them that, from every account, they are spacious and elegant. I fell into the company of one of the gardeners, with whom I had a long talk, and, from the answers which he gave to my inquiries, I could easily learn that I might safely say not only this but a great deal more. As to the parks and forest, — the Home Park, according to the guess-estimate of this man, is about four miles around, and the Great Park about twenty miles around, while Windsor Forest is between fifty and sixty miles in circuit. All these, especially the forest, abound in deer and other gajpe. They are not, however, I ought to say, chiefly kept as enclosures for game, but contain several farms under tillage, and are stocked with large herds of black cattle : in fact, they are mainly great stock farms for feeding and fattening beeves. The same, I suppose, is true of the other immense parks in various parts of England, to wit : that of the Duke of Rich mond, of twenty-three thousand acres ; that of Earl Spencer, of ten thousand acres ; that of the once exceedingly wealthy Duke of Devonshire, — he having been worth about two hun dred thousand pounds sterling per year, — and other such en closures. How unequally has this world come to be divided 1 Next, with respect to Stoke Poges' Churchyard, I, observe that it lies four miles N.N.E. of Windsor. This old burying- ground I desired very much to visit, but concluded, on re-; flection, to forego the pleasure. It is the scene, (as every one conversant with English literature is, of course, aware,) of that sweetest and most plaintive of elegiac poemsy " Gray's Elegy, Written in a Country Churchyard." In;it; also, Gray lies buried amid "the rdde forefathers of the hamlet," of whom, while he was living, he sang so tenderly. Close by it, or at least not far from it, lived for a long time the suc cessive Squires Penn, the representatives of that useful man, the founder of Pennsylvania: on inquiry, I learned that the family had not long since moved into another part of Buckinghamshire, or into one of the neighboring counties. It now only remains for me, before closing my letter, to AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 161 mention two or three historical associations connected with New Windsor. The most important event in its history, so far as the borough itself is concerned, is the erection in it of his fortress-palace, by the Conqueror, to which occurrence reference has been already made. It was much prized as a residence by Henry II. , (the first of the Plantagenets, and the conqueror of Ireland,) and also by his sons ; and these monarchs held here two parliaments. Again, it was a favor ite residence of the first and second Edward. And, long subsequent to the days of these sovereigns, in the wars of Charles I. and the Long Parliament, it was seized by the Parliament and converted into a garrison. Besides, it was the last prison of Charles I. These are the most important associations, of a historical character, that are conjoined with the place that I have been lately visiting. As to minor associations, I will entirely overlook them, since they are so numerous that, if I were to expatiate on them, I must extend my letter beyond all reasonable length. Toward the close of my sheet, I need scarcely detain you with an account of my return to this great metropolis. Suffice it to say that, after an absence of two days and a night from my hotel, putting my foot in the cars, I was again in it at sundown, and early enough for a late supper. I now subscribe myself yours, &c, M. F. P. S. — I would mention, in connection with what I have been saying of the royal abode at Windsor, — though I am aware that it is considerably out of place, — that, by attend ing near Buckingham Palace, I have lately seen the Queen and Prince Albert going out to take a drive. The Queen, to me, seemed greatly to surpass the accounts mostly given of her, being, though not tall, of a symmetrical form, and with good bust and arms ; her face, which seemed to me wan and unhealthily delicate, was lit up by a smile, and sug gested ideas of honesty, of earnestness, and of benevolence. . Prince Albert is an exceedingly fine-looking man, handsome, elegant, and graceful. One sight of them seated in their carriage, in* their going out and returning, is all that I have had. Victoria is quite a popular favorite. 13* 162 TRAVELS IN FRANCE NO. XIX. Bank of England — Exchange — Mansion House — Horse Guards — Admiralty — Blue Coat School — Some Leading Streets, as Piccadilly, etc.— Smithfield — Tournament — Joust — Euston Station — Inventor of the Locomotive. London, June, 1855. For the last time but one, in all likelihood, at least during this sojourn in England, I date my letter from this great metropolis of the world, this great centre of moneyed, po^ litical, and moral influences. Indeed, this would be my last letter, if it were not that I had one already partially written in relation to my attendance to hear the debates in the two. houses of Parliament; which one, however, I have not felt at liberty either to date, or to finish, as something might turn up that would lead me again to be present at some legisla tive discussion, by which means I would be furnished With further materials, or observations, that I would be desirous to add. On the morning of the day after to-morrow, Providence aiding, I propose to go hence to Wales, and thence to Ireland. Having, during my stay here, come into contact with several things of which I have not yet said any thing, I take up my pen, in these circumstances, to say somewhat, and that as briefly as possible, of such of these various miscellaneous things as have most interested me. I need not say that the Bank of England received from me, after my arrival in London, an early inspection^ It stands in one of the most crowded parts of the city, (crowded with houses, I mean, not with population,) near numerous narrow, crooked streets, among which I may name Lombard Street and the Old Jewry. It is an irregular parallelogram, covering, as is estimated, four acres, and has streets running all around it, of which Threadneedle Street, — though but a small street, — is the most important. I entered the building, seeking to convert gold into paper. It has no windows on the streets, being entirely lighted from the inside areas, (nine open courts giving light to the various offices,) arid from the roof. No one looking at it,— -.low, solid, and dingy, but massive, — ^would suppose it, from its appearance, the most opulent treasure-house in the world ; yet such undoubtedly it must be admitted to be, It has been estimated, by high AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 163 authority, to be worth a rent of £40,000 per year; and it is asserted that every day, on an average, it receives about £800,000 in bank-notes. By law its regular paper issues may amount to £14,000,000 sterling, but they cannot exceed this, except it has a pound in coin or bullion for each addi tional pound in paper put by it in circulation. This insti tution owes the first step toward its origination to the un settled state of society during the civil commotions in the reign of the First Charles ; at that time clerks and appren tices, taking advantage of the difficulty of following and arresting them, acquired extensively a habit of absconding from their masters, after carrying with them their masters' money. To secure themselves against this, these began to deposit their cash with the goldsmiths, who gave for it their receipts; and these receipts soon came to pass current as bank-notes do. From such a beginning did the idea of a bank, in part^ originate ; the Bank of England being at length chartered in the July of 1694, — in the midst of an era of wild speculations and gigantic schemes. And now, in the various details of its operations, it comes nearer to absolute completeness in its line than perhaps any other institution, in any line whatever, in the world. It makes, after a pecu liar fashion, its own paper ; this being distinguished for great strength and toughness, for an inimitable shade of white color, and a water-mark entirely unique, for edges that can not be copied, and for a thinness and transparency that do not allow any figures on it to be removed Without making a hole. In connection with this, it engraves its own notes, and this in a manner so incomparably skillful as to render the counterfeiting of them next to impossible. And when a note is received at its counter it is never again sent abroad, (only new notes being put forth, and none below five pounds ster ling, or a sum equal to near twenty-five dollars,) but instead of this, with other notes of a similar character, is carefully put up in a parcel, or bundle, which parcel, labeled and ar-_ ranged, is preserved for ten years, with a view to reference in case of lawsuits, being, after this lapse of time, destroyed. Also the particularity, with respect to the coin received, is extreme, all the gold pieces paid in, being made to pass over a spring scale which, when the money is of the full weight, rises only to a certain heigW, but which, when it is ever so deficient, rises a little higher, the coins, in the two 164 TRAVELS IN FRANCE cases, sliding into different receptacles. In illustration of the comprehensive justice and of the ideas of policy of the Bank of England, I would mention that, if he behave well, it never discharges one of its numerous employees, (these, from the original number of fifty-four, with an annual salary of £4350, having now increased to nine hundred, at a salary of £210,000,) except on half-pay for life. Close by the Bank of England, and on the other side of Threadneedle Street from it, is the Exchange, a spacious and ornate edifice, built fifteen or sixteen years ago. The first exchange was erected about 1567, when it was called the Bourse, the present name being given by Queen Elizabeth, (in 1570,) in person, by sound of trumpet. Not far from these buildings is the Mansion House, a spacious edifice, but badly located, the residence of the Lord Mayor. Again, the Horse Guards, the seat (if I mistake not) of the British military establishment, is a common-looking building, between St. James's Park and Whitehall Street. Close by this building is another no less celebrated, the Ad miralty. Again, the Blue Coat School, on the respectable old street called Newgate Street, is well worthy of notice from the stranger as he passes along the adjacent pavement. It stands considerably back, and has a railing and gateway in front. While I was looking in, innumerable boys, in their distinctive dress, (a dress worn since the foundation of the school, and in all places and at all times, — a blue gown, yellow leggings, and no hat,) were busily engaged in the yard in most obstreperous play. It was founded by Ed ward VI. for poor orphans ; and on an income of £60,000 per year, it now boards, clothes, and instructs, munificently, about fourteen hundred boys and girls. The boys are classed according to their capacities, industry, and inclinations ; some being apprenticed to trades, some, after mastering nautical mathematics, being put to seafaring, and others, crack boys in classics and mathematics, being sent to Cam bridge, — where the institution has numerous exhibitions, some of which are worth £100 per year. Though the select boys in this school are distinguished for their mathematical and classical attainments, yet this does not prevent them from being also distinguished, in many cases, for their gene- AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 165 ral knowledge, their love of poetry and romance, and their refined taste. From among them has come forth a number of very eminent men, as Samuel Cobb, Lamb, and Coleridge. In connection with what I have said of this charity founda tion, I would say a word of the Westminster School. It was once the Court school, and rivaled Eton ; at present, however, it is not, by any means, distinguished for its use fulness. As to the streets of this city, I remark that almost all of them are reasonably wide, well paved, and substantially and respectably built; some, however, are of a superior cha racter. The most fashionable, I believe, are Piccadilly, (so named from a tailor whose skill in making fashionable stiff collars, piccadilloes, brought him a fortune, and who built the first house in the street,) Oxford, Pall Mall, St. James's, Regent, and Bond streets ; and after these is Holborn, which is a continuation of Oxford; and then come the streets noted for substance rather than fashion, as Cheapside (a continuation of Holborn,) Cornhill, Strand, Fleet, and Lud gate streets. There are only three other streets that I will name : Paternoster Row. (a narrow, crooked street, close by St. Paul's, which has been the chief seat of the book trade from the time when London booksellers mainly dealt in such books as ABC, with Pater-Noster, down to this time ;) Bread Street in the same vicinity, which is also a small, nar row street, but remarkable as the birthplace of John Milton ; and Downing Street, a small street in Westminster, cele brated as having formerly been the seat of several leading government offices. Nor can I pass the paved plain named Smithfield entirely without mention in this brief epistle. This irregularly shaped vacant space lies about a quarter of a mile north of St. Paul's. . It is rather a rude looking expanse, as might be expected, when the fact is called up that it is the great cattle market. of London. What is its size I will not pretend to say, but it certainly appeared to me very large. That it has been used for a cattle market for many hundred years we learn from Fitzstephen, who wrote in the reign of Henry II. , and who says of it : " Without one of the gates is a certain field, plain both in name (Smoothfield) and situation. Every Friday, except some great festival come in the way, there is a brave sight of gallant horses to be sold : many come out 166 TRAVELS IN FRANCE • of the city to buy or look on, to wit : earls, barons, knights, citizens, all resorting thither." As a place for the sale of cattle it is very conveniently fitted up, the ground being divided off into little stalls enclosed with wooden frames which open only on .one side by means of bars running in mortices. But it has been used for other purposes than for a market. Here great numbers of God's people, in the days of persecution, were offered up as a holocaust by the enemies of saving truth. Here also, — to speak of times long anterior to the period of persecution, — at the commencement of the reign of Richard II., Wat Tyler's armed multitude, enraged at the severity of the taxes imposed by Parliament, mustered to seek redress by force. Besides, it was here, (mentioning the thing in connection with what I have just said of its being the spot on which men of God were burned at the stake, causes a discord,) where, more frequently than any place else, in the days of jousts and tournaments, splen did enterprises of chivalry were, in the presence of admiring multitudes, accomplished. To give one instance : in the reign of that Richard already spoken of, there was held in it a tournament, as we learn from Jaistory, in which no less than sixty coursers were brought into use. These all issued together, in order, from the Tower, which then contained the palace, each courser with a squire of honor on his back. This troop was followed by a troop of sixty beautiful ladies on a corresponding number of the most carefully selected palfreys. All the streets through which the cortege passed had the fronts of the houses adorned with rich banners and tapestries. The squires of honor, after a little, yielded their seats to the knights, their masters, and then the knights were conducted within the listed place by the troop of ladies. Already, here was the queen seated in a rich gallery, and, to join her the ladies repaired, while in their stead three squires united themselves to each knight to perform for him all the services requisite on the occasion. Then, after the spectators had been arranged on their seats, and the arms examined, amid the sounding of many trumpets the heralds proclaimed with their loudest voices: "Knights and squires, to achievement; to achievement;" — and the knights came forth from their pavilions. Next, the cords dividing the enclosed space into two equal parts were slackened, and cer tain superannuated warriors, — to whom this honor always, AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 167 in those days, belonged, — gave the command to charge : " On, valiant knights ; on : fair eyes behold you." At these words the opposing knights rapidly careered toward each other, lances were broken, horses and their riders were over thrown, while from the various cavaliers the names of fair ladies filled the air. But times have changed, and men's tastes with them. One, now-a-days, must be content to meet, in Smithfield, with butchers, graziers, and cattle- dealers, instead of kings, queens, knights, courtiers, fair ladies, and lords I But, speaking of feats of chivalry, I will leave Smithfield and go to London Bridge. On it, or rather on the Old Lon don Bridge which occupied the same spot, (by which, of course, I do not mean that oldest bridge of all, that was burned in the July of 1212, when two thousand persons per ished in the conflagration, but that one which succeeded it,) was held one of the most remarkable jousts of the olden time. I make reference to the remarkable encounter which, in the same reign that has already twice been spoken of, occurred between Sir David de Lindsay, (first earl of Craw ford,) and the . Lord Wells. The king, queen, and court, were present. The jousters were clothed in complete mail, and were to fight, for life or death, with their spears closely ground. Mounted on powerful and well-trained horses, they careered toward each other from opposite sides of the bridge. About the middle of the stream the two antagonists rushed on each other with mortal hate, but, though both spears fairly struck, neither man was either hurt or unhorsed. The Scot, however, had so evidently the advantage that there was a cry from the multitude of foul play, when he leaped from his saddle, that it might be seen tha£ he was not tied in his seat, and then again vaulted nimbly on the back of his charger. After the fixed number of courses had been run on horseback, they next engaged on foot. At length the Lord Wells was brought to the ground and into the power of his antagonist. Now had arrived the time for clemency, and de Lindsay, with his foot on his foe, presented him to the queen, who gave him his liberty. Permit me to express the hope, while all this was about being transacted on the old structure, that the heads of traitors and of other criminals, (men then so numerous in the land,) had been re moved, which things, even so late as Elizabeth's reign, 168 TRAVELS- IN FRANCE adorned it almost as thickly as they once did the gates of the palace ofthe Grand Sultan, in Constantinople. I have on several occasions thought of this, when passing it, espe cially at night, when all was solitude and silence. The fact is that, in the day-time, — such is the crowding of pedestrians, and' of wagons and carts, across it, — there is little oppor tunity of thinking about anything.. I subscribe myself ever yours truly, &c, M. F. N. B. — I am just about to go, by omnibus, to Euston Sta tion, which is about three miles from here, to inquire about the passage, by railroad, to Bangor. When I return I will close this letter. I leave it purposely open till then to en able me to write to you in relation to any contingencies that might turn up in the mean while, which might induce me to alter the time that I have now fixed on for my departure. I would stop here a day or two longer, but that I wish to make a short stay in Wales, and yet, nevertheless, be in Dublin on next Sabbath. P. S. — I have just been to the railroad station, and I think I will leave this city on the day after to-morrow. As to the station that I have just come from, I remark that it is ad mirably adapted to its purpose. One thing in it, that at tracted my notice, is a very striking statue of George Ste^ phenson, the inventor of the locomotive. This man, who was born near Newcastle, in 1781, commenced life as a working collier. At eighteen he could neither read nor write, though he subsequently made himself an eminent engineer. When quite young he became celebrated as a clock doctor, and then as a steam-pumping machine doctor. In 1812 he was ap pointed engine-wright at Killingsworth Collieries, near his birth-place. There, during the following nine years of humble industry, he solved the great problem which has given him immortality as a useful man and a man of genius, the invention of the locomotive. The first idea as to- em ploying steam on railroads was that of using stationary en gines to draw the trains by means of ropes. But Stephenson, . — who had already built, upon the model of an old and very rude steam-engine that used to run on Wooden rails in the collieries, a self-moving engine that did moderately well, — succeeded, by combining the gas pipe with the tubular boiler, in giving us the present locomotive, with its superior capacity AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 169 of self-motion, and with its tremendous power. The first loco motive, (called the Rocket,) he drove at the rate of thirty miles an hour. Nor, after this, was he satisfied to repose on his laurels : on the contrary, he engaged in railroad making, superintending the construction of railroads to the length of two thousand five hundred miles. Such was the man whose statue, with great good taste, adorns Euston Station. I would add that Robert Stephenson, M.P., son of George Stephenson, and the constructor of the Menai Tubular Bridge, is almost equally eminent, as a railroad engineer, as his father. NO. XX. Tickets for Parliament — Westminster Hal] — Coronation Feasts — State Trials — New Parliament Houses — Capitol in Washington — House of Commons — Debates — Speakers — Briefness — Newspaper Reports — Young Speakers — Pining — House of Lords — Debates — Speakers — Bishops — Lords as a Court of Law — Forensic Elo quence — Audience Chambers — Size and Shape — Ladies' Gallery — Dignity of De portment — Dispatch of'Busincss — The Over-talking of the French Legislature — Cri ticisms on Several Speakers, as Graham, Bright, Russell, Palmerston, D'Jsraeli, Lyndhurst, the Bishop of Chester, Campbell, Brougham— No Lobby Crowding — Unpleasant Adventure. London, June, 1855. This is the last letter that I will address to you from this city. In it I propose to tell you about the two houses of Parliament, and my visits to them on several occasions to hear the discussions. As a man making some pretensions to literary taste, as a reader of history, and an admirer of talent and eloquence, and as a lover of civil and religious liberty, I could not well depart from this capital without looking on them when engaged in the transaction of busi ness. Indeed, to me, to hear and to see "the collective wis dom" of the British Islands, each branch of it in its own hall, was the most prized thing that I came into contact with here, numerous though the objects of interest to be met with are. Then the spot on which, for more than three hundred years, the Parliament of England has assembled, on which, for nearly one hundred and fifty .years, that of Eng land and Scotland have united their counsels, and on which, for more than half a century, England, Scotland* and Ire- 14 170 TRAVELS IN FRANCE land, in union, have legislated, — the legislative body here convening, counting, among those who have sat as its mem bers, more of the celebrated names of modern times than any other body that exists, or that has existed, can pretend to reckon up among its catalogues of names, — I say, this spot of itself, though, instead of the time-famed St. Stephen's Chapel, a new edifice stands on it, is well worthy the homage of a visit from the stranger. There is some difficulty for a stranger to obtain admission to the halls of the Houses of Parliament, when they are in session. It is to be borne in mind that London contains a population approaching to'two and a half millions, that the number of persons in it from a distance is, at all times, very great, that no inconsiderable portion of these, as well as many residents of the over-grown city, wish to be present at the sittings of the legislature, and that the strangers' gal leries of either one of the Houses will not accommodate, in my judgment, more than from one hundred and fifty to two hundred persons. In this state of things, a ticket, especially in the case of an interesting debate, is often eagerly sought after. By writing to one of the members for an Irish county, — the Honorable Thomas Bateson, — whose father, also an Irish member of Parliament in former times, from circum stances connected with college days I well recollect, I ob tained tickets of admission to the Commons, and, by writing to Lords Brougham and Campbell, obtained from each, for the Upper House, a ticket enclosed in a letter. My first ticket was for Monday, the 4th of June. On this day, entering an omnibus, I started, after dinner, for the Parliament House, crossing London Bridge and going past St. Paul's and Temple Bar, and thus reaching Trafalgar Square, where I alighted. To the south of this square, and indeed constituting a part of the same paved area with it, is Charing Cross, (so named from a cross, formerly on it, in memory of the stopping, on the spot, of the hearse of Queen Eleanor, who sucked her lord's poisoned wounds in the Holy Land,) the place where, in October, 1660, Crom well's Solicitor-general, Mr. Cooke, and the Reverend Hugh Peters, the successor of Roger Williams in the Church of Salem, Massachusetts, suffered, as regicides, the extreme penalty of the law ; being cut down while alive, and dis emboweled, and quartered. Passing over this space, and along Whitehall and Parliament streets, — nearly at the AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 171 point of junction of which two streets, behind the Palace of Whitehall, Charles I. was beheaded, — I arrived at my place of destination. Being much too early, a guide to sight seeing in London, in this state of matters, accosted me, offering his services to go whither I chose, and first indi cating Westminster Hall, which is just at the door of the Parliament House; as an object at which I ought, by all means, to^take a look. This celebrated hall was built by William Rufus, in 1097, and was repaired and improved by Richard II. , exactly three hundred years after. Strange to say, I could not obtain ac curate information as to its magnitude ; the best authorities, that I had access to, differing as to this matter considerably. According to the lowest estimate, it is two hundred and seventy feet in length, ninety feet in height, and sixty-eight feet in width, being the largest apartment unsupported by pil lars in the world, except the Hall of Justice at Padua. The impression which it makes on the beholder is very grand. On the west side of it, and communicating with it, are the courts, to wit : ^of Chancery, Common Pleas, Queen's Bench, and Exchecker. The hall itself now merely serves, during the sittings of these courts, as a promenade for the lawyers practising in them. But what gave it to me the chief in terest, are the associations connected with it. How many great historical characters have here figured ! It has wit nessed the, coronation feasts, or other parts of the ceremo nials attendant on the coronations, of thirty powerful kings. It has often looked on Parliaments sitting within its walls. Here Sir William Wallace, guilty of having fought against the junction, by military force, of his native country with England, was put through the idle forms of a State trial. Here was Sir Thomas More tried, and pronounced guilty. Here the great Lord Bacon was tried, and justly condemned. Here the proud and able Strafford was condemned. Here Charles I. was made to confront the High Court of Justice raised for his trial. Here Cromwell was inaugurated, and here, after his death, his head was basely raised on a pole. Here the prudent and virtuous Lord Somers was put on his trial, and acquitted. Here the Committee of Managers of the House of Commons, — Burke, Fox, Sheridan, and others, — conducted the famous impeachment of Warren Hastings. And here, also, Lord Melville was tried. What food for a reflecting and imaginative mind 1 172 TRAVELS IN FRANCE I did not, however, leave my hotel to wander through Westminster Hall, but to go to the Parliament House. So I will ask you to accompany me thither. The old Parlia ment House, which had once been the Palace of West minster, was destroyed by fire in 1834; that ancient struc ture upon whose picture even I take pleasure in looking, — since in it so many intellectual giants, in both chambers, through the lapse of several eventful centuries, had strug gled for the mastery; in it not a few of the greatest names in English history had earned their immortality ; and in it many of the great principles of English liberty had been propounded, defined, and successfully maintained. The new Parliament House is one ofthe noblest of edifices. As I have, at least a dozen times, sailed along its front on the Thames, and very often have walked around the parts of it lying next the street, I have thus had the opportunity of viewing it pretty thoroughly. Like the palaces of Venice, its front is built into the river, so that there is neither street nor foot- walk separating between it and the water, the terrace of granite, which makes such separation, being an appendage to the building itself. From the river the edifice seems vast, grand, and lofty. And its numerous high turrets or spires, especially the very elevated Victoria Tower, give it an air of great stateliness. It is very richly decorated with rich tracery; a thing that gives it a foreign air, and calls up ideas of a much blander climate than that of England, to which it seems unsuited. Internally the walls are of brick, but externally of magnesia limestone. I observed that some parts of them were quite soiled and blackish, while others were fresh and new. I thought that their appearance would be greatly improved by painting them (after the fashion of the Capitol in Washington) into a resemblance of marble, with which operation, however, the tracery would greatly in terfere. The building is of the figure of a hollow square, or, in other words, it occupies the three sides of a quadran gle, or is like the upper half of a capital H, so that, toward the street, it has a large square court formed by the wings extending back from the extremities of the main structure ; said court being thus open on one side. This back or street part of the Parliament House is comparatively plain. I would remark that this new palace of the British Legislature is much larger than will be even the noble edifice when com pleted, (when I say completed, I allude to its new wings,) AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 173 in which the American Congress meets. The American building, according to a statement before me, will be seven hundred and fifty-one feet in length, and will cover three and a half acres, while the British is nine hundred feet in length, and covers an area of nearly eight acres. Yet, in my opinion, of the two edifices, the American, on account of its standing on a commanding elevation, is, from a distance, the more imposing. But the hour of four o'clock will soon arrive, at which time the House of Commons will assemble. I therefore made my way through a long hall, up a flight of stairs, and then up a few steps, by which means I reached a spot where a policeman was stationed : to him I showed my ticket. He directed me to a seat where a number of persons were al ready seated. And after a time we were admitted in squads of threes and of fours, as there was room for us in the stran gers' gallery. On the second afternoon on which I attended, (that of the 5th,) instead of going by omnibus I went by steamer on the river, ¦ taking passage at the steps on the Southwark side of London Bridge, and landing near West minster Bridge. This short voyage is, at almost all times, a delightful one; and on most occasions, when going from my hotel to Westminster, I have availed myself of this mode of locomotion. And, when traveling on this part of the Thames, in what reflections may one familiar, in some small degree, with the history of the past, indulge, — especially if he be going to visit the House of Commons ! It can scarcely fail, at least passingly, to summon up the grand spectacle of the 11th of January, 1642. The king, Charles I., eight days before had commenced illegal proceedings against Lord Kimbolton, Hampden, Pym, Hollis, and two other members of the House of Commons; and this illegal pro cedure he had followed up by an attempt, in person, at the head of two hundred halberdiers of his guard, with numer ous armed courtiers, to arrest, in their seats, the offending members. These were compelled to abscond. Soon, how ever, they were ordered by their fellow-members to attend in their places and resume their duties, while the citizens of London, who, in the mean time, had shut their shops, and paraded the streets with pikes, (and this even in the night,) prepared to make their return a triumph. In these circum stances, the trained bands of the city filled the main street 14* 174 TRAVELS IN FRANCE along the river between the city and tHe Parliament House, and vessels, which were armed, ranged in two lines, filled all the space on the Thames between London Bridge and the same spot. Between these two lines of vessels, in a barge particularly richly decorated with streamers, the restored members, amid the shouts of vast multitudes and the con tinued roar of ordnance, passed to Westminster to reoc- cupy their seats in St. Stephen's. Over the same expanse of water, and with many of the same old palaces on either hand, which witnessed this triumph, does the stranger jour ney going by steamer from London Bridge to Westminster Bridge. Having landed, from the tiny steamer in which I had taken passage, at the pier below this latter bridge, I proceeded, this second time, to seek admission into the strangers' gallery of the Commons. Oh this second evening of my attendance the process of admission was the same as on the preceding. But on the subsequent evenings on which I was present, — those of the 8th and the 11th, — I was ad mitted by a back way into a room with a bright-blazing fire, and, after waiting here till the opening of the House, was led into the gallery. On three of the nights of my attendance, the war, and the conduct of Lord John Russell at the conferences of Vienna, were the grand themes, or rather theme, of discussion. On this subject, or on other matters that came up on the nights on which it was discussed, I heard the following speakers : on the first night, Mr. Gibson, of Manchester, when circum stances led me to withdraw ; on the second night, Mr. Roe buck, of Sheffield ; Mr. Labouchere, of Taunton ; Mr. Lowe, of ; Mr. Cobden, of the West Riding of Yorkshire Sir Stratford Northcote, of ; Major Reid, of Mr. Ewart, of Liverpool; Mr. Vansittart, of Berkshire Mr. Scully, of the County of Cork ; Mr. Crossly, of Hali fax; Mr. Phillimore, of ; Sir James Graham, of Car- lile ; and Lord John Russell, of London. And, on the third night, Mr. Frederick Peel, of Bury ; Sir W. Molesworth, of Southwark ; Mr. Bright, of Manchester ; Mr. F. Scott, of ; Sir F. Baring, of Portsmouth; Sir Alexander Cock- burn, (Attorney- General,) of ; Sir F. Thesiger, of Stam ford ; Mr. Davies, of Carmarthenshire ; Lord H. W. S. Bentinck, of North Nottinghamshire ; Mr. Cardwel, of Oxford ; Mr. Walpole, of Midhurst ; Mr. Horsman, of AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 175 Stroud; Mr. D'Israeli, of Buckinghamshire; Lord Palm- erston, (the Premier,) of Tiverton; and Mr. Gladstone, of Oxford University. Some of these speakers, before the hour for the grand debate arrived, spoke in relation to things of limited interest, and used only a few words ; and some;, — Palmerston, Graham, D'Israeli, and several others, — spoke briefly more than once, and also made, each, a speech of considerable length. With respect to the length of time occupied by a speaker, one in the strangers' gallery has not, in Westminster, the facilities of judging that he has, in simi lar circumstances, in Washington, as he sees no clock, and if he look at his watch a policeman will at once tell him that this is contrary to the rules that, in this place, are to be ob served. Thus I have seen a man requested to put up his watch, when looking at it with the view of marking the time employed in speaking, by the successive participants in debate. As to the point to which I am making reference, I would remark that, though of course I could not measure the lapse of time, no speaker, in my time of attendance, ex cept one, was tedious, and no man, (as I have oftener than occasionally seen in deliberative assemblies in America,) made a bore of himself. Indeed, I suppose that such con duct would not be endured. The members when speaking stand on the floor in, or near to, the spot where thej- may have been sitting, and, as there are no desks, are visible Jvom head to foot; a severe test, as every man who has spoken in public knows, to be applied to a man, as to the decency and propriety of his attitudes. Neither did any one addressing the House use a manuscript, thus reading an essay, or pamphlet, under the name of a speech, as I have very frequently seen done. Indeed, the absence of desks makes this an Inconvenient piece of procedure. All of the speakers that I heard, except the Attorney-General, seemed, to me, deficient in gesture, and not a few lacked fluency. There were many, nevertheless, who were very fluent. All used language with great propriety, and the general current of thought in all was proper, manly, and, in many instances, highly dignified. I would think that the speeches on the main subject ranged, as to length, from twenty-five minutes to an hour. I would remark, however, that speeches in the Commons are not always, all of them, thus brief; as, on some rare occasions, a speech of the unreasonable length of three 176 TRAVELS IN FRANCE hours has been listened to. I read carefully the report of each speech that I heard made, on the morning of the day after its delivery, and while it was still fresh in my memory : I could thus compare the copy with the original. As a general thing the newspaper reports are very defective. This arises from the fact that the various gazettes do not much employ stenography in taking down speeches, because the stenographic manuscript would be difficult and slow for the printer and his aids to decipher, but, on the contrary, make use of handwriting plain, and of course slowly exe cuted : thus what is uttered in debate can be printed almost as soon as it has been spoken, and, in the briefest time, can be given to the public ; this course being pursued because the newspapers aim, in serving their customers with news, at dispatch, rather than at fullness. During the progress of the debate, vast diversity of views was manifested, but, toward the close of it, a motion was offered, which was unanimously adopted, pledging the House to support the Queen in the prosecution of the war till a safe and honora ble peace should be obtained. I also attended in the gallery of the Commons, — as I have already hinted, — on another evening, (that of the 11th,) when a bill on the subject of education was the chief theme of dis cussion. On this occasion, the Speaker himself presided ; (whose" seat, I may remark, faces, in the other end of the room, at about twenty feet from the wall, the gallery;) on the past evenings of my being present, Mr. Fitzroy, an ad-* mirable presiding officer, having filled his place. The mem bers, whom I heard speak at this time, were Mr. Adderley, of North Staffordshire ; Mr. J. Evelyn Denison, of Malton ; Lord G. J. Manners, of Cambridgeshire ; Mr. W. J. Fox, of Oldham; and Sir John Pakington, of Droitwitch. The speaking was good, but by no means so animated as in the debate in relation to the Vienna Conferences. I was surprised that, on the evenings of which I have been giving an account, so few Irish or Scotch members spoke. This, however, is far from being ordinarily the case. Also I had my attention drawn to the arrangement by which young speakers are practised to exercise their half-fledged pinions, without appearing to intrude themselves into the thick of a debate in which they would cause a waste of time and appear to but little advantage. The House usually AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 177 goes in at four o'clock. Smaller items of business take up the first hour, or two, as it may happen, and then comes on the grand question for the evening. Soon after this the house, which had gradually come to be filled, (when the members are in their places their number is six hundred and fifty-four,) begins again to appear quite thin ; the members retiring in small parties to dine together in the restaurant of the Commons, yet doing this with such a general under standing among themselves that all do not withdraw at once, but that as one small party returns another goes out. It is during this process that the young speakers have an oppor tunity of speaking. After this the heavy metal comes into action, and the struggle is maintained till eleven, twelve, or even one o'clock. In addition to my going to the Commons on the evenings enumerated, I attended the debates in the House of Lords on the evening of the 7th ; and was also present, a day and part of a day at the bar of this house, while sitting as a Court of Appeal. I would add that the Lords usually (or perhaps always) assemble an hour later than the Commons. While I was present in the gallery of the Lords there were two bills discussed. One was the Administration of Justice Bill. On it I heard speeches made by Lord Lyndhurst, (the only American by birth in the Upper House,) Lord Cran- worth, (the Lord Chancellor,) Lord CampbeH, and Lord Brougham. The other bill which was discussed was the University of Cambridge bill. On it I heard speeches by the Lord Chancellor, by Lord Lyndhurst, by the Bishop of Chester, (the Right Reverend J. Graham,) by Lord Lyttle- ton, by Lord Berners, by the Bishop of London, (the Right Reverend C. J. Blomfield,) by the Bishop of St. David's, (the Right Reverend Connop Thirlwal,) and by Earl Powis. None of the speeches, I judge, exceeded half an hour in length. Twenty-eight bishops and three archbishops have the privilege of a seat in this branch of the British Legisla ture, and of these about one half were present. The lay nobility, — these at present numbering, leaving out of the count the Irish and Scotch non-representative peers, about four hundred and forty-six persons, — wear, in their seats, their ordinary dress ; but the bishops, as well as their having a particular part of the house appropriated to them, are robed in their episcopal costume. I observed that the de- 178 TRAVELS IN FRANCE bates in the Lords' House, on the night on which I attended, were still more imperfectly reported in the newspapers than those in the Commons'. . Thus, the speeches of Lords Broug ham and Campbell, which, of any made, were ofthe greatest length and of much ability, were disposed of in half a dozen sentences. This was, I suppose, mainly because the discus sions on the war had swallowed up the interest of the public in all other questions. Of the Peers of the British Islands I would say, from what I saw of them, that they are about the reverse of the United States Senate, a body, I would remark in a passing way, that, on its floor, has often embraced talent of the highest order. In this latter assembly, I have seen a man, representing an in fluential State, to stand up in his place, and, putting his hat on his desk, pull a manuscript out of his pocket and place it across his hat, and then proceed to read the long tedious pamphlet with the driest composure possible. Yet was the bad, dry reader of a quite long, dull pamphlet, listened to with what I may call apathetic,. respect, — a respect; how ever, that if often repeated, in cases of being thus imposed on, involves the sacrifice, on [the part ofthe body exhibiting it, of a good share of its collective dignity., On the other hand, I have seen an able speech delivered in the happiest manner, drowned by the under-talk of a hundred and fifty lords ; though I was led to understand, I ought to add, that this conduct was intended as an expression of disapproba tion of an unbecoming act of which the man thus rebuked had been guilty out of doors. The American Senate is about the best body to listen, or at least to seem to listen, in the world, and the British House of Lords seemed to me, at least on the occasion referred to, about one of the worst. And, if I were to extend, the contrast, which I have been in stituting, to the lower houses of legislation in Britain and America, I would say that the British Commons will listen to sensible talking or debating, particularly where the speaker is not diffuse, but not to anything else ; and that the American House of Representatives will read, and rustle with news papers throughout the whole period of the most diffuse and dullest speechification without any manifestation whatever of impatience, while even to quite good speaking, more espe cially if on the unacceptable side of a subject, it is about the most leather-headed audience in existence. I speak from AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 179 what I myself have witnessed in all these legislative assem blies. I may, however, be in error, as I was present at the debates, whether in Westminster or Washington, only dur ing something, respectively, like half a dozen sittings ; some thing less than this in the one case, and something more in the other. As to the House of Lords hearing cases as a court of law, I was present in it a part of a day, and, subsequently to this, an entire day. It presents altogether a different aspect at such a time from what it does when transacting business as a legislative body. When sitting in the latter capacity, on the evening on which I was present, there may have been one hundred and fifty members in attendance. When sitting as the Supreme Judicature of the British Islands, at the times when I was standing at its bar, there were, on the floor, only the Lord Chancellor and Lord Brougham on one occa sion, and, on the other, only these two law lords and one or two other lords. When sitting in a legislative capacity, the movable sofa-like seat called the woolsack is removed to within about twenty feet of the end of the chamber most dis tant from the bar, — the south end, where is the throne, — while, when sitting as a judicatory, this seat is placed at not more than twenty feet from said bar. The bar itself is a space separated from the main floor, at one of the ends of this floor, by a railing of about four and a half feet in height ; and it is allotted to auditors listening to legal pleadings. It extends only a part of the way across the chamber. To the right of it, and somewhat in advance of it, is a long rostrum in which the lawyers stand while addressing the Lord Chancellor and his fellow-lords. In the bar there are no seats, so that one has to stand all the time. I heard a number of eminent lawyers address their lordships. The style of speaking was exceed ingly simple, plain, unadorned, condensed, logical, and lucid, though inanimate ; and there was no attempt at appeal to the affections, sympathies, prejudices, or interests, of the judges. It was everything but eloquent, (in the ordinary sense of this word,) and yet it was admirable in its way. It called up to my recollection Blair's sermons, but that, while it was less beautiful, and, in a moral point of view, less high-toned, it was plainer; more logical, and more direct. Such speaking is exceedingly unlike any eloquence that I have ever listened to at the American bar. The most important case that I 180 TRAVELS IN FRANCE heard argued, and this only in part, was an appeal from a Scotch railway company as to its right, if I understood cor rectly, under its charter, to hold certain property necessary to it, as it alleged, in order to its answering the purpose for which it had been called into being. — The strangers' gallery in the Lords' is directly over the bar of their lordships' House, and over the rostrum of the lawyers. I will occupy the sequel of this letter with such miscella neous observations connected with the general subject on which I have been writing, as may present themselves to my mind. First, as to the chambers, or apartments, in which the two houses of Parliament assemble, I remark that both of them are rectangles or oblongs ; that the length of the apartment in which the Peers assemble is ninety-seven feet, its width forty-five feet, and its height the same as its width ; and that the apartment in which the Commons hold their sittings is somewhat smaller than that of the Lords', but having nearly the same proportions. The Lords' chamber is one of the most superb and richly decorated rooms in the world. In it the blaze of crimson and gold, beneath a ceiling of rich blue, fairly dazzles the unaccustomed eye of the beholder. The Commons' chamber, also, is handsomely ornamented, though plain when compared with that of the Lords'. Both apart ments, as in the case with the largest number of Christian churches, have been evidently formed after the pattern of the Roman Basilica, a thing which has already been made evident in what I have above said of their shape and proportions. They are most admirably constructed for easy and pleasant public speaking. Also, they are happily contrived for the accommodating of those members who prefer listening to speaking, the benches, (which run lengthwise, which have no desks, and which, in the lower house, have green cushions, and in the upper, crimson,) being apparently very comfortable fix tures of their sort. I was not in the House of Lords after night, so that I cannot say how, at the time of darkness, it is lighted, but the House of Commons has a transparent ceiling, and it is through it that it is lighted. Ladies, though they have access to the Lords', are not admissible, by the rules of the house, into the Commons'; but, to compensate them for this, there is a gallery behind the Speaker's chair, — which gallery is separated from the main apartment by a partition AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 181 of ornamented glass, — and into this they are received. One, from the strangers' gallery, can plainly see the dim figures of ladies looking through their glass wall at the house in ses sion, and listening to the debates. I cannot help remarking that the absence of desks, though attended with some uncom- fortableness, does much to make good debating by contribut ing to prevent the reading of manuscript pamphlets, and it also hastens the dispatch of business by giving no facilities for letter-writing and newspaper reading. From what I have said it will be perceived that the hall of the British House of Commons is quite a different sort of apartment from the hall of the American House of Representatives. The latter apartment, instead of being rectangular, is well known to be semicircular, and, instead of having a ceiling of a moderate height, is covered by a lofty concavity like the inside of a dome. The fact seems to be that the hall of the House of Representatives was modeled after the " Salle des Seances" in the palace of the French National Assembly, without making any allowance for difference of circumstances or of usages. In the French room spoken of, the tribune for the speakers is in the centre, and from this point, and from this alone, it is easy for a speaker to make himself everywhere heard ; but in the American hall each man addresses the house from near the spot in which he sits, and the consequence is that the shape of the house dissipates his voice, or at the best, makes him heard at many seat's with difficulty. Secondly, I will make, as to the two houses, an observar tion or two in relation to the dignity of deportment main tained in discussion, the value of matter entering into the speeches, the manifestation of scholarship on the part of the various debaters, and the rapidity with which business is transacted. The members, both of the Upper House and of the Lower, while I was there, manifested, I must say, a propriety of conduct, and an elevation of mien, not easily surpassed. I have seen many bodies in session in the United States, both political and ecclesiastical, and, to say the least, have never seen any to surpass in dignity the commoners of the British Islands. The same thing I would say, with equal emphasis, of the lords ; and yet, on the occasion on which I was pre sent, I thought that the chit-chat, in which they indulged during a part of the time, was well adapted to sink their 15 182 TRAVELS IN FRANCE reputation in the estimation of the staid part of the com munity. This, however, lasted only a brief time. Never theless, it was different conduct from what I expected. And I would remark, whatever may be the defects of the heredi tary house, that those who have the best opportunity of knowing it, all unite in ascribing to it, and this greatly be fore the other house, the utmost propriety and loftiness of deportment. With respect to the deportment of the com moners, I had sometimes seen it affirmed in travels, and often in letters in American newspapers, that it was, at times, rude, as, to wit : their lying down on benches, and sticking their feet up on the cushions. . I must say that I did not see anything of either sort on the three nights, and part of a fourth, of protracted debate, through which I was present, though the attendance during most of the time was full. There is, on each side of the house, a gallery running from the strangers' gallery, — which latter is in the end : these side galleries belong to the members, not as being a part of the house, but as a place of retirement, and to them I have seen members come up, and there lie down. Such lying down on benches and cushions as this, most certainly is by no means offensive. I remark, with respect to the character of the matter en tering into the speeches made in the two houses of Parlia ment, that it is almost invariably to the point discussed and of considerable value. Almost every new speaker gives new facts or arguments. And there is very little going over of the same ground a second time. As to the scholarship displayed, I observe that it is to be seen generally only in the discipline of mind, and talent for arrangement and condensation, which characterize the vari ous speakers. The members of the two houses are possessed almost invariably of respectable literary attainments, and not a few are eminent for scholarship and science. Yet I saw no proud exhibitions of these things in debate, whether in the form of learned quotations or in any other form. And, as to the quickness with which business is transacted, I observe that the British Legislature, in both of its branches, deserves high laudation. While time enough is allotted to debate, there is no useless talk. In France, I found that those who professed to justify Louis Napoleon in overthrow ing the legislature, did this, in part, on the ground that its AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 183 members talked too much. Perhaps, of those who spoke in this way, not a few intentionally used language of a double sense ; some meaning that by too much talking the Chamber of Deputies made itself so contemptible that it ought not to be any longer endured, and others meaning that while it was debating it ought to have been acting so as to have antici pated the blow under which it fell. But, however this may be, the charge of talking too much cannot, with any pro priety, be brought against the two houses of Parliament. They are strictly business-doing bodies, and their debates are strictly discussions in order to action. In this point of view, they will compare, by no means unfavorably, with the American Congress. They have none of the long speeches read from manuscripts ; (I mean in ordinary times ;) none of the long oral speeches running through the good part of a whole day, and to each of which a speech equally long will be made in reply days after ; and not anything of the wasting of time in calling for the ayes and nays, and in perversely but ingeniously raising points of order, which, together with other time-consuming expedients of an analogous character, make up at least a portion of the legislative doings in Wash ington. The result is that most of the important debates in Parliament, as reported in an abridged form in the metro politan gazettes, are given, with less or more abridgement, in all the newspapers of the British Islands, (even in those published in the most remote districts,) while not one news paper out of twenty, perhaps, in the United States, attempts to give its readers more, as to the discussions in Washing ton, than an epistle from that city, or occasionally it may treat them to a single isolated speech. It now only remains, before concluding this letter, that, in connection with the miscellaneous observations which I have just been making, I observe as to the style of speaking of some of the speakers in the two parliamentary halls. In doing this I will be compelled to make a selection, omitting the mention of several who would be as worthy of notice as most of those whom I will name. Also, I will not speak of any one whom I myself did not hear address the house of which he is a member. In the remarks I am about to make I will take the two houses in order. I begin, having first visited them, with the Commons. In this body I find a difficulty in fixing on any particular per- 184 TRAVELS IN FRANCE son with whom I ought to make a commencement in my re marks. Perhaps it will be better in the first instance to fix on one who, though he may not be the oldest member in the house, yet is considerably the senior of most of those who now sit around him. Sir James Graham, (whom I have already named as one of those that I heard speak,) is now quite an aged man, and he has long maintained a prominent position among the most respectable of the public men of England. In his speaking he makes no pretensions to oratory, nor, on the occasion when I heard him, did he seem solicitous to appear as a close logical reasoner. He has, however, a good and portly person, though now stooped with years ; a distinct and agreeable voice and utterance ; an appearance of sin cerity; fluency; and much parliamentary experience; and makes a plausible, lucid, and well arranged speech. I was told that he is much inferior to himself as he once was. He advocated an arrangement of the difficulties with Russia as soon as practicable. Mr. Bright is one of the leading advocates of the peace policy in the Lower House. I could not see him while speak ing, nor was the speech, that I heard him make, the main speech that he made in relation to the war. I thus had not a full chance of forming an opinion of his style of oratory. One part of his speech sent a thrill over the entire assembly. As a speaker he seemed to me to excel most in vehement argumentative denunciation. He is undoubtedly a very able and eloquent man, perhaps an orator. I heard Mr. Cobden speak. He is a good, forcible, ready, and strong debater. The substance of his speech was very excellent. He was, however, on the occasion of which I speak, very brief in his remarks. Mr. Gladstone made a brief speech. He is certainly one of the sweetest and most natural of speakers to whom I ever listened. His words flowed from him like honey. I heard the Attorney-General, Sir Alexander Cockburn, who is yet quite youthful in his appearance, make a speech. A lawyer, who has to tug all day at the oar of drudgery and weariness in his laborious profession, has a very unequal chance in the struggles of British politics. He, however, acquitted himself well. As to gesture, voice, and fluency, I do not recollect to have seen him surpassed. For a lawyer, AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 185 he appeared very modest. His fault, as it seemed to me, was a somewhat of pomposity and verbosity. I heard Sir F. Thesiger, (the intended Lord Chancellor of England, of the Conservatives,) address the house, who made, as I thought, a very able lawyer-like speech, though in the delivery of it he seemed to me like a man tired and worn down with application to business. The conclusion to which I came in relation to him is, that if he were to devote him self thoroughly to politics, (he is a lawyer of very great emi nence,) he would soon be one of the first men in the house. Again, I heard Lord John Russell make his speech in ex planation and defence of his conduct during the Vienna con ferences. I had seen accounts of him as a speaker in the House of Commons, in which it was said that he had to strain his voice in order to be heard. I was pleased to find on this occasion that this was by no means the case. Every word he spoke was heard without the slightest effort on the part of his auditors. His style is very neat and perspicuous, but, though his positions and attitudes are pleasing, he uses no gesture whatever. It seemed as if he spoke under reserve, unwilling to employ all the facts and arguments at his com mand. His air of address had about it, as I thought, some thing cold, proud, and condescending. He undoubtedly is a man, though no orator, whose eloquence would command attention in almost any circumstances, or from any audience, whether coarse or polished. Again, I also heard the Premier, Lord Palmerston, speak. He stammers a good deal at the beginning of his speeches, and somewhat even after he has begun. But I do not think that every political chief must necessarily be an eminent pub lic speaker. It is enough if he speak so as to give his views to his audience perspicuously and without tediousness. And of this Lord Palmerston is entirely capable. He has a me mory at once ready and retentive. Of this I saw an exam ple in a struggle between him and D'Israeli, in which, though D'Israeli is greatly his superior as a debater, he worsted this champion of the Conservatives, correcting his state ments, and doing everything but make him acknowledge in words his errors. This little occurrence illustrated to me the advantage of ministers, and their opponents, sitting face to face. Otherwise the matter might have been mystified in documents and newspapers, unendingly. It also illus- 15* 186 TRAVELS IN FRANCE trated the temper of the British House of Commons. In it a leader best consults his standing with his political friends by substantially retracting, and an honorable antagonist will not ask more, any erroneous statement that he may have made, rather than by wasting the time ofthe house through the having of recourse to misrepresentations and perplexed involutions. Lord Palmerston, though not a great public speaker, is quite a wit. Indeed his witticisms often flow forth on all occasions, a circumstance which his opponents do not fail to turn to good account, charging him with levity, and even affirming him to be incapable of treating the gravest matters in a serious way. He is now considerably advanced in years. Besides, I cannot pass D'Israeli by, without making to him a special reference ; the only other member of the Com mons of whom, in addition to those that have been already named, I will now speak This man, I was told, though I do not know how truly, is the son of, or at least nearly de scended from, an Eastern Jew. He has a marked Jewish physiognomy. As a literary man, it is well known, he is quite distinguished. But he has long since, in a good de gree, abandoned literature for politics. He is not an orator, he is not even fluent, or at least he was not on the occasion of which I speak, and yet every one of his speeches tells. I have heard him speak on, — on, — for more than an hour, hesitating occasionally, and even sometimes stumbling ; and while I could not admire his eloquence, yet I could not help listening ; nor was I, singular in this, for the attention of every other person, — and that on a subject that had been long debated, — was enchained as well as mine ; and, when he had done, I was full of the impression that I had been hearing a very uncommon man. He is now the leader of the opposition in the Lower House, and most uncompro mising he is, in this capacity, with his antagonists. I must say, while I was a looker-on, he let very little pass without exercising his vocation. Thus,fhore than once, I have heard a member of the administration make what would seem a very lucid explanation of something that had been excepted to in the doings of the government, and express, in con cluding his explanation, the hope that what he had been saying was satisfactory. But not so. D'Israeli would at once reply, "Most unsatisfactory, sir." AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 187 Before passing to the Lords, I would say that Macaulay, the member for Edinburgh, though, I believe, present, did not speak, a thing for which I felt regret, as I much desired to listen to the oratory of the eloquent essayist and histo rian. There were, also, many other members whom I would have been gratified to hear, but I felt that it was time for me now to stop attendance in the gallery of the Commons. I now proceed to the Lords, restricting my remarks to four of the speakers that I heard in that body. I heard Lord Lyndhurst speak. This nobleman, it is well known, is the son of the self-taught Boston portrait- painter, John Singleton Copley, who, in 1774, going to Italy to improve himself, sent for his wife and family to meet him in London, on his way, returning to America. His eldest son, now Lord Lyndhurst, was then a child ; and, the family being detained in England in consequence of the war which was about beginning between the mother country and her colonies, he grew up in England, became eminent at Cam bridge as a scholar, studied law, rose to eminence in his pro fession, was elected a member of the House of Commons, and finally was commissioned Lord High Chancellor of Eng land. He is very aged, yet his speeches show considerable vigor of mind still remaining. He was listened to with per fectly mute attention. The Bishop of Chester, as perhaps the best speaker of any of the bishops that I heard address their lordships' House, ought to receive a notice. He spoke for about twenty minutes ; and he certainly displayed very respectable talents, — perhaps I ought to say talents of a very high order, — for oratory. A good person, a dignified and graceful de meanor, a fine voice well modulated, good language, a not too rapid, and yet voluble utterance, and a train of thought distinguished by good sense, all characterize him. Yet he stood stock-still, scarcely moving even a finger. And his speech might perhaps be said to resemble, at least slightly, a beautiful highly polished piece of mahogany from the hands of the turner, such as I have seen, protuberant in the middle, and growing gracefully less toward both ends. I heard Lord Campbell make a speech. He acquits him self remarkably well, and indeed greatly excels as a logical speaker ; nor has he almost anything of a Scottish accent. His language is plain and perspicuous, yet occasionally or- 188 TRAVELS IN FRANCE nate. When hearing him address the House, though, of course, ignorant who he was, I was at once struck with the happy facility with which he grappled his subject. This man, who is the son of a Scottish clergyman that resided iu a town in a remote part of Scotland, came to London with no advantages but that of a very good education ; never theless, by talents, probity, and industry, has he raised him self to his present eminence, beginning his metropolitan career as a reporter for a newspaper, and ascending step by step to the highest place among the luminaries of the bar and the bench, and, I may add, of the senate. I may truth fully say that I have seldom seen a man more capable than he of making a straightforward, powerful and convincing speech. The only other member of the House of Lords, in relation to whom I will write to you,, is Lord Brougham. The re putation of this man, as a senatorial orator, exceeds that of any man living. Long was he not only the most eloquent pleader at the English bar, but, by way of eminence, the orator of the House of Commons. In person he is tall and thin : when he was in the act of speaking his frame seemed to be slightly subject to the affection of a nervous influence. I had met with accounts in which he was described as care less in his dress and ungainly in his figure. On four occa sions on which I had an opportunity to view him at leisure, this was far from the impression made on me : he was taste fully dressed, and bore, to me, the appearance of a good-look ing old gentleman. To me he called up, both as to his dress and his person, the late venerable president of Cannonsburg College, in Western Pennsylvania, Dr. B. I must say that I though? the likeness very striking. The speech that I heard him make was in relation to the improvement of the ad ministration of justice; with him, for very many years, in one shape or another, a favorite theme. I have heard a great many orators both European and American, and have tried to recall one that I could view as his equal in all respects, and I neither could nor can recall any such one. He has an excellent voice, perfect fluency and command of language, a perspicuous and expressive phraseology, a facility in mar shaling ingenious and forcible argument, promptness and force of sarcasm, and a vigorous, impassioned style of reason ing. As he stood on the richly carpeted floor, without desk AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 189 or seat before him to conceal him from my view, delivering his oration with sufficiently graceful and very animated ges ticulation, he appeared to me the human embodiment of argument and eloquence blended together. Yet, in a ros trum, or behind a desk, his peculiar style of gesturing would have been impossible, most of his gestures rising no higher than the middle of his body, but, for a speaker on an open floor, they were very appropriate and appeared to great ad vantage. Though now of an advanced age, and, as he said, afflicted with broken health, he speaks with the vigor and directness of youthful days. I conclude this epistle by subscribing myself Yours, &c, M. F. P. S. — There is a circumstance which has occurred to me as worth being noticed ; there is no crowding of the lobbies by outsiders in the British Parliament House. It is well known that in Washington, on at least a number of occa sions, it has been different. There, a multitude have gathered in these places during exciting debates, and when particular speakers have risen, they have crowded into the galleries to hear them, and when others have risen, they have with drawn. A factitious reputation, the thing aimed at, has thus sometimes been dishonestly given to middling men, while a reputation fairly deserved has been held back from others. This system of giving, through the instrumentality of the galleries, to some men an artificial prominence, has here no existence. Indeed, in this connection, I would re mark, that I am doubtful whether there is almost any other country in which reputation, professional or political, has less to do with the actual character of its subject than the United States. I would here add the mention of a small adventure that happened to me on the last night of my attendance to hear the debates in the Lower House. After the House broke up, and while on my way to my hotel, (it having come on to blow and rain when I was about passing Temple Bar,) as I was crossing London Bridge, at near the middle of it, — at which plaee there is a recess in its upper parapet, — several men, who had been concealed, stepped out to impede my way. However, happening to have a small but efficient weapon in my hand, they saw proper to slink back to the 190 TRAVELS IN FRANCE stone bench on which they had been sitting. When I had gotten some way over the bridge, I found the policeman, who ought to have been walking to and fro on the thorough fare over which I had just passed, quietly taking tea, in the street, — the storm having a good deal abated, — at a small table kept by some petty vender of night refreshments. NO. XXI. Journey to Bangor — Towns on Railroad — Cars — Chester — Inn in Bangor — The Town — Inhabitants are, &c. — Excursion to Penrhyn Slate Quarries — Island of Anglesea — Wire Suspeusion Bridge — Tubular Bridge— Description— Historical Associations— Roman Slab — Beaumaris. Bangor, June, 1855. I left my hotel near London Bridge early on the morn ing of the 14th, and arrived at this place in the evening. As to my journey thus far, I would remark that the rail road passes through portions of the following counties : Mid dlesex, Hereford, Buckingham, Northampton, Warwick, Stafford, and Cheshire, in England ; and Flint, Denbigh, and Carnarvon, in Wales, — the town from which I date this letter being situated in the county last named. It is a little more than two hundred and fifty miles distant from London, in a northwest direction. The chief towns by which I passed in coming hither are Rugby, on the Upper Avon, (over which beautiful affluent of the Severn the railroad crosses ;) Tamworth, a very industrious and prosperous town, (noted,. in former times, as the place near which the army of the Duke of Richmond encamped shortly before defeating the stern and harsh but heroic Richard III., in the battle of Bosworth Field, and, in our times, as being so long repre sented by Sir Robert Peel, the well-known statesman;) Crewe, distinguished as a railroad centre; Chester; (of which I will not say anything, since I cannot stop to say enough;) Holywell, noted for its spring that sends up twenty-one tons of the purest water every minute ; and Con way, famous for its tubular bridge, and its embattled walls and noble old feudal fortress. To look at a large map of England, one would think that our train must have made its AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 191 way in that country, over at least three ranges of mountains, to bring its living freight from the valley of the Thames to this place ; yet, in spite of all the accuracy of maps, I did not see a single mountain, and even few considerable eleva tions, until I entered Wales, but, on the contrary, all the distance was an almost uninterrupted succession of hedge rows and large green fields. Almost the entire country in England seemed as highly cultivated and as productive as Lancaster County, in Pennsylvania, and more verdant and beautiful. Also, the weather was warm, sunshiny, and every way agreeable. ' Besides, I» felt no dread of railroad acci dents, for such are the precautions taken, that these (except from the train taking fire) are nearly impossible. I have seldom put in, during my life, a more agreeable time than while on this journey. After entering Wales, however, the land began to be thin, ridgy, and poor, and the country to appear mountainous. Indeed, for a long distance through Wales, we had first the Estuary of the Dee and then the Irish Sea on the one hand, and low mountains or ridges on the other. There are two things of which I will speak more particu larly in -this letter : first, the railroad and its accommoda tions ; and, secondly, this town and the objects of interest in its vicinity. As to the line of railroad extending from Euston Station, in London, to Bangor, close by the Menai Strait, in Wales, I observe that, as a railroad, it may be equaled but cannot be surpassed. The French roads are equal to it, though I must say that I have never yet seen any road in America at all to be compared. The track or trainway is double, the rails are heavy and strongly put down, and not anything seems to be wanting. Along the road are signals 'at every brief distance, to secure against accidents ; also numerous sentinels are posted ; a telegraph is connected with the various stations ; no two trains following each other are permitted to come within a certain fixed distance, the one of the other ; the engineers are skillful ; and all the axles, wheels, and machinery, are kept in perfect repair. As to the cars, I would remark that, both in England and France, they are different from those that we meet with in the United States. In the former countries they are divided into apart ments ofthe size ofthe interior of a common carriage, while 192 TRAVELS IN FRANCE in the latter country there will be twenty or thirty seats in one long space. This difference in the styles of accommoda tion grows out of difference of climate, as the small divisions spoken of are incapable of ventilation to suit very warm weather, and also of being properly heated in times of in tense cold. Again, there are here three classes of cars, while with you there are only two ; the first class here being superb, but the second class, on many roads, by no means so g»od as it would be to be desired that they should be. Be sides, in the carrying of baggage here, there is no giving of checks, so that, in this respect, the English have something valuable to learn. I will now ask you to eOme with me to this town and its neighborhood. Let me first take you to the inn in which I am staying. It is a house of no very large dimensions, (of two stories high,) standing down a deep bank, and at a brief distance from the railway station. Inside it is quite comfortable though plain. Indeed it is not unlike the respectable class of country public houses in Pennsylvania, only that less liquor, so far as I have seen, is sold in it than is generally the case there. It stands at a short distance from the town, and is quite retired for a house of the sort. As to the town itself, I observe that it is situated in a ridgy valley of a soil poor and stony for the most parti yet it is a valley quite romantic in its scenery, though, in this re- speet, inferior to many of the valleys that lie among the Alleghany Mountains, as it is very far their inferior in fer tility. The inhabitants, who are, to a large extent, of the race of the ancient Britons, are very industrious, and mostly seem to live quite as comfortably as persons of similar classes in society do in the United States. One curious thing about them is that the women all, or large numbers of them, wear hats, like men, a fashion prevailing throughout the entire prin cipality of Wales. The character of the town, — which has a population of about six thousand five hundred, — has a cor respondence with that of the valley in which it is situated. It does not seem wealthy nor well built, yet the houses are good and substantial buildings of stone, and the dwellers in them appear to travel along the road of life quite comfort ably. It consists of a single long street, on which is situated the cathedral, an edifice first built in the sixth century, and AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 193 which was rebuilt in the reign of Henry VII., though not completed till 1532. It also contains a town-hall, an epis copal residence, and an excellent school. On the morning after my arrival, I drove out, in company with two young men from Manchester, to the Penrhyn slate quarries, which lie about six miles from the town. In going thither we passed by Penrhyn Castle, a magnificent modern erection, and a very striking object in the landscape. These quarries were opened in 1782 ; and now, in some years, two thousand men are employed in them, and the income from them is £20,000 sterling per year. The proprietor has made a single-track railroad out to them, but it is not fitted to be used for any other purpose than that of carrying slates. They are situated in a very barren vicinity. They consist of a large, hollow space, which has been made thus vacant by quarrying out the stone, from which space narrow roads or galleries ascend spirally, one rising above another. At the time at which a number of simultaneous blasts is about to take place, (the blasts being always made simultaneously,) a horn is sounded, when each man takes to cover ; then the matches are applied ; and in a brief time numerous explosions take place in all directions, loosening immense masses of the slate rock. The thing had on me a startling effect. I have also, while here, been out on an excursion over the Menai Strait, to the Island of Anglesea, by the Menai Suspension Bridge, and, at the same time, I visited and ex amined the Tubular Bridge, and ought, therefore, I sup pose, to be qualified in some degree to say something of these things. The Island of Anglesea is twenty-four miles long and seventeen broad. Of an island so large, I could see but little in a few hours. It is said to be fertile, though I must say that this was not, in general, the impression made on me by what I saw. The southeastern part of the island bore, much of it, the aspect of something making somewhat of an approach to barrenness, while the face of the country seemed very much destitute of trees. The first object on the island, or one of the first objects, that strikes the eye of a visitor as it wanders along the rocky shore, is a small picturesque church of great antiquity, called the Landysilio Church, situ ated on a small rocky peninsula jutting out into the water, and forming at high-water a small islet. Another object 16 194 • TRAVELS IN FRANCE that strongly attracts attention is a lofty monument erected to commemorate the part taken by the Marquis of Anglesea in the battle of Waterloo. Then there is, along the strait, the proud mansion of the Marquis of Anglesea, and, not very far from it, the less pretending but beautiful residence of his son, or brother, Lord Paget. But when one passes away from these places the country comes to exhibit an ap pearance by no means so inviting. Yet with all this I have no doubt that the statements usually made as to the island, that, taken as a whole, it is fertile, are correct. As to the Wire Suspension Bridge, I remark that it is situated about two or three miles from this town. To it I went on foot, and by it, as I have said, crossed to Anglesea. This work was begun by Mr. Provis, resident engineer, on the 10th of August, 1820 ; on the 26th of April, 1825, under the direction of Mr. Telford, the architect who conducted the building of the bridge, was the first chain, in the presence of a great multitude, carried across the strait ; and, on January 30, 1826, the general opening took place by the passing across of the Holyhead mail-coach with the mail for Dublin, — this event having been made matter of great public eclat. The road on the bridge consists of two carriage ways of twelve feet each, with a foot-path of four feet in the centre. The arches are one hundred feet above the water below, so that large vessels can sail through. The entire length of the chain, from the point of its being fastened on one shore to the poiflt of its being fastened on the other, is 1715 feet; the width of the great central arch, where the chan nel is unsuitable for piers, is 560 feet; and the weight ofthe part of the structure that hangs suspended over this wide space, is 489 tons. Moreover, besides this great suspension arch, the bridge has seven stone arches, each 52| feet in span. I would remark that, from the structure of which I have been speaking, by looking S.S.E., the venerable summit of Snowden can be seen. Also, I would remark, being guided in this matter by the description of the spot by Tacitus, that it was where it has been reared, or very near by, that the Romans, under Paulinus Suetonius, crossed to Anglesea, when about to destroy the Druids. As to the Tubular or Britannia Bridge, which is distant about a mile from the one just described, I observe that, even after it, it bursts like a wonder upon the astonished AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 195 vision. Even the Thames Tunnel fails to produce such an impression. There, there hangs suspended the vast iron tube, or rather tubes, supported by vast piles of masonry that look as strong as the pillars of Hercules ! This sublime work, the fruit of the engineering of Robert Ste phenson, M.P., F.R.S., was commenced in 1846, and the undertaking was completed, so as to admit the passage of cars, in March, 1850. Now that it is completed, it may be pronounced the boldest achievement of modern science. Beside it, except as to duration, the Chinese wall and the pyramids of Egypt are insignificant. The width of the Menai Strait, at this spot, I would judge to be about 1800 feet. To throw a tube of iron over such a chasm as this, even after stone-work had been carried out from the shores on each side as far as this could be done, would have been impossible, had it not been that an immense rock exists in the depth of the channel, on which rock a huge mass of masonry has been reared to sustain the bridge in spanning the width of the waters, on either hand of it. The structure consists of two vast piles of masonry, one on each shore ; of two great piers, one of which is ojj from each of these piles ; and of an additional vast pile of masonry, reared on the rock just spoken of; with ponderous iron tubes conrfecting the piles on the shores with the piers and with the pile of stone work, or tower, on the rock in the channel between them. The thing, in miniature, may be illustrated thus : take a very long barrel of a rifle and lay it across a portion of a stream to a rock, and place another barrel equally long be side it; and then take another barrel and lay it from this rock to the opposite shore, with another barrel beside it, and you have what will give you a crude idea of the bridge. Indeed, if the intervening space between the barrels laid side by side, were, to a considerable extent, cut out, so that the instrument, instead of two muzzles and bores, would have only one muzzle and bore, if the barrels instead of four were made eight, and if two railway tracks were laid through the long orifice, you would have something like an awkward miniature fac-simile of the tubular bridge of which I am speaking. " The whole length of the entire bridge, measur ing from the extreme point of the wing-walls of the Carnar von abutment to the extreme of the Anglesea abutment, is 1834 feet and three inches." The abutment, on the Angle- 196 TRAVELS IN FRANCE sea side of the Strait, is 143 feet in height and 173 feet in length ; that on the Carnarvon side being of a size to cor respond, when the more favorable character of its ground has been taken into account. The height of the tower raised on the rock in the channel, which is the loftiest part of the structure, is 220 feet, while the height of the towers raised between this tower and the abutments is 203 feet. And as to the tubes, the four long ones are each 488 feet in length, — each weighing 1800 tons, — and the four short ones each 266 feet, — each weighing 700 tons. But I do not intend to write a pamphlet, in my letter, in relation to this work ; I will therefore content myself with throwing together, in a miscellaneous way, such facts as most forcibly strike me in regard to it. When approaching it from either shore, the visitor has first his attention drawn by two colossal lions which adorn each end of the wing-walls of the structure. These lions, which are Egyptian in character, are each twenty-five feet and six inches in length ; twelve feet and eight inches in height, though crouched ; nine feet in the greatest breadth across the body ; and two feejj and four inches across each paw. They contain each 8000 cubic feet of stone, and each of them weighs above eighty tons. Connoisseurs in the art of sculpture pronounce these four leonine likenesses, lifting their limestone foreheads in defiance of the tempest and the storm, to be admirable in design and execution. Next, the visitor's attention may be very properly directed to the im mense stones of the masonry, ranging in weight from one ton to twelve, and which it would seem impossible to move, but which, — such were the ingenuity, simplicity, and strength of the tackle used, — were raised to their places with perfect ease. Then, having looked at these things, he will of course proceed to contemplate the huge iron tubes, these being the indispensable parts of the bridge, for which all the other things connected with it exist. These tubes were not cast but worked, having been made of plates of iron of various thicknesses, riveted together, the riveting bolts having been put red-hot into their places. Nor were they manufactured where they now are, but were put together far below their present level and at some distance off the spot in which they now rest ; having been fabricated on immense Wooden scaf foldings, — of which scaffoldings the large ones contained, AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 197 each, 70,000 cubic feet of timber, and were held together, each, with twenty tons of iron bolts. When the work to be done on the huge tubular masses had been finished, then came the almost insuperable labor of raising the larger ones, (each of these being, as I have said, of 488 feet in length, and 1800 tons in weight,) off their scaffoldings, bringing them to the place where they were to be placed, and raising them to the requisite height. With unanticipated facility, however, this vast difficulty was surmounted. First, eight pontoons, or barges, capable of sustaining much more than the weight to be borne, were floated under each stage or scaffolding ; the ends of the tube to be raised having been made meanwhile to rest on temporary stone piers built for the purpose. In this state of matters, the rising tide, of course, lifted the monster freight* Next the barges were towed into the tideway, brought between two of the towers that had been built up, and made fast in such a position that the ends of the huge body were caused to come into grooves in said towers ; (at the bottom of each of which structures stones had been left out to admit these ends;) masonry, to support the incumbent weight, being immediately carried up in the afore-mentioned grooves. Next, but not till the rise of the tide had ceased to be available, the iron mass was raised to the proper height, or, as I would estimate, about seventy feet above the floors of the barges, by chains worked by huge and powerful hydraulic presses, stationed in the archways in the tops of the towers ; into which presses the water was injected by steam-engines. Thus was the aerial tunnel, step by step, brought to ascend to its altitude, — a tri umph of mechanical skill and science unequaled. Nor, when it had been brought to its place, strong though it is, was it left to be merely self-supported between the masses of masonry. On the contrary, underneath it, were put iron girders and iron bed-plates, of enormous size and strength. But, on inspecting the bridge, the visitor will soon dis cover that the making of the tubes of the necessary strength and tenacity, and the raising of them to their places, (though the main, and seemingly insurmountable ones,) are not the only difficulties to be vanquished. Metal expands with heat and contracts from cold, and this circumstance, if overlooked, might soon lead to great damage to the struc ture. But all injury, from this cause, has been provided 16* 198 TRAVELS IN FRANCE against, by rollers having been interposed between the tubes and the bed-plates supporting them, and by balls of bell- metal put in in connection with the rollers ; the rollers and balls readily moving outward and inward as the iron mass expands and contracts by changes of temperature. With respect to this expansion and contraction, I observe that they can never extend downward ; but, on the contrary, the rays of the sun always cause the bridge to rise upward, to swell out at the sides, and to lengthen. I also observe, as to this matter, that the expansion, lengthwise, is at the rate of the one-thousandth part of the length of each tube for each fifteen degrees of Fahrenheit in increase of tem perature. To what I have said in relation to this bridge, I will only add two or three more remarks having a reference to it. First, I remark, as to the shape of this iron tunnel, that it is not round, or what is, strictly speaking, called tubular, but approaching to square ; the depth of the large tubes at each end being twenty-three feet, and at the centre thirty feet ; and the width of each tube being fourteen feet and eight inches from outside to outside, — that is, the width of the entire tunnel, (it being composed of two tubes,) being not very far from twenty-eight feet. Thus its shape is that of a double covered roadway of from twenty-three to thirty feet in height and of about twenty-eight feet in width. Again, as to the floors and roofs, I remark that they are formed of cells composed of iron plates set on edge, those of the roof being within a fraction of one foot and nine inches square, and those of the floor being one foot and nine inches wide, and two feet and three inches deep. It is on the cells of the floor that the rails on which the trains run are laid. Again, as to the strength of the bridge, I remark that, when it was about being opened, it was tested by the archi tect, who passed over with a train laden, with iron and coal, to four times the weight of any burden that has since crossed it, himself being the engineer and only passenger; and that the sinking of the tubes under this enormous pressure was only the half of an inch. Again, as to the height of the bridge above the strait, I observe that -its floor rises above low-water 120 feet, and above high-water 100 feet. The only other remark, that before quitting this subject AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 199 I will add, is that the ascent to the roof is made by a stair case, (though a very steep one,) and that the view from it is magnificent in the extreme. I will conclude my epistle by referring, in a very few words, to some of the historical associations connected with this vicinity. All the accounts that we have of Britain such as it was before it was invaded by the Romans, and at the time of this event, concur in representing the neighborhood in which I am now writing, especially the Island of Anglesea, as the grand seat of the British Druids, that mysterious sacerdotal caste which, in the gloomy days of heathenish superstition, led the worship of such of our ancestors as belonged to the ancient British races. This neighborhood, also, witnessed the presence of more than one Roman army. Hither, about a.d. 61, Paulinus Suetonius led his forces, making his way over the strait to the island which, after a severe battle, he succeeded in con quering ; cutting down its sacred groves, and establishing in it a garrison. And from this time this part of Britain would have been included in the Soman Empire, if the war raised by Queen Boadicea had not almost immediately compelled its abandonment. Seventeen years after, Cneus Julius Agricola brought the Roman soldiery again to this district. On this occasion, in spite of their courage shown in a hard battle, the people of Anglesea were routed a second time, and it was in consequence of this defeat that their island was brought into complete and lasting subjection. It is here worthy of remark that it was by the very road between Bangor and Chester, on which the railroad is now put, and over which I have just traveled, that the Roman general, when marching to invade Scot land, led away his army hence. Of the occupation of this territory by the Romans, evidences occasionally are still brought to light. Thus a stone of three feet and three inches in length has been discovered within two miles of the spot on which I am writing, this stone containing the fol lowing inscription : M. V. M. N. C. Imp. Cassar M. Aurel. Antonius Pius. P. IX. Auc. Arab. 200 TRAVELS IN FRANCE This neighborhood, moreover, long after the Romans had withdrawn from Britain, and indeed long after their empire had totally disappeared from the world, had associated with it the presence of the Welsh princes. These had their seat near by, on that island already so often mentioned. Thence, through many generations, did they defy the power of the Anglo-Saxon, and of his conqueror, the Norman. But com parative paucity of numbers, conjoined with an imperfect civilization, at length brought the unequal though bravely maintained struggle to a close. Lewellyn ap Griffith, the last of the Welsh princes, sued for peace from Edward I., and peace was granted on the condition that the Welsh prince should go to London every Christmas to do homage for his principality. Having gone thither at the Christmas of 1277, he and his retinue were quartered at Islington and in the neighboring villages, and, on account of affronts re ceived, partly in these places and partly in London, he and they resolved, while there, that the visit they were then making would be their la3t to the English capital. The nature of these insults gives -us a curious insight of the habits and opinions of the Welsh aristocracy of those days. The Welsh prince and his followers complained that they were compelled to drink .beer instead of milk, to which latter they were used, and that the Londoners took the liberty of in dulging in an offensive way in laughter at their peculiar garb and strange manners. These things were more than their proud and impatient tempers could bear, and the result was that, as soon as they again reached the mountains of Wales, they recommenced hostilities. At length, in 1285, the brave Lewellyn fell in battle ; and besides, his brother, who was made a prisoner, was executed. And henceforward, with the exception of some brief flashes of patriotic spirit, the nationality of the last remnant ofthe ancient Britons, in South Britain, became scarcely anything more than a shadow. I may add, though I have not visited it, that Beaumaris, the shire town of Anglesea, — for the Island of Anglesea is a county, — lies only a little more than three miles to the north of this town, on the other shore of the Menai Strait. I subscribe myself yours, &c, M. F. P. S. — A small matter of quite an unpleasant character, has occurred to me at the railroad station here ; I allude*to AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 201 a railroad clerk telegraphing from London that I had not paid for my trunks according to their full weight, and this though at the depot in London change had been returned me. Of course, though I felt indignant, I paid the demand, yet without feeling sure that it was entirely right. In con trast with this I would mention that I have spent my even ings here quite pleasantly. On the evening before last, — that of the day on which I reached this place, — I spent some time in company with an exceedingly agreeable and intelli gent man very familiar with the proceedings of Parliament, and quite a military man in his appearance and carriage, and also very conversant, as I learned from my talk with him, with military matters. From the views he expressed, I would infer that Russia has not a few sympathizers among the British aristocracy. Cheap newspapers ; fire-arms ; the writing of Latin poetry ; education in the University of Cam bridge ; a Hungarian speech, in which a diversity in the cha racter, and dimensions, of the arms of the various corps em ployed against Hungary, is spoken of; the French emperor; and the oratory of Congress and of Parliament, compared ; with some allusions to an assault on Sebastopol, anticipated as near at hand, — were among the matters discussed. NO. XXII. Journey to Dublin — Sea-sickness — Kingston — In Dublin — Hotel in Westland Row- Going to Church — Description of City — History — Phenix Park — Vice-regal Lodge- Deer — Law Courts — University, &c. Dublin, June, 1855. You will perceive, on looking at the heading of this letter, that I am now in the ancient capital of Ireland. I arrived in this country on last Saturday night, and came up to this city on the next morning. The first place at which the train stopped after leaving Bangor was Holyhead, which town is twenty-three miles west of Bangor. Of this distance about seventeen or eighteen miles are through the middle of Jhe southern part of the Island of Anglesea, the remainder of the distance being 202 TRAVELS IN FRANCE either in the County of Carnarvon or in the Island of Holy head. Of Anglesea I spoke in the letter that I last ad dressed you, and to what I then said I will not now add anything. Nor of the island and town of Holyhead will I stop to say much. Of the island I will only say that it is about five miles in length and of from three-quarters of a mile to about two miles in width, being connected by a long causeway with the western coast of the adjacent Island of Anglesea, and that it is mostly quite barren. Of the town I will only say that it contains between five and six thousand persons, and has altogether a respectable appearance. It is said to have been the site of an ancient Roman fortification, a p,art of the wall of which is still standing, and enters into the wall of the churchyard. But we were permitted to stop only a few minutes in Holyhead, when we had to go aboard the packet for Kingston, the length of the sea-voyage be tween these two places being fifty-five miles. Our voyage across this distance of water was not altogether unpleasant, though the sea, on account of a considerable wind, was rough. Indeed, during most of the time of passing over I was very sea-sick. As to Kingston, I remark that it lies on the south side of Dublin Bay, about two and a half miles within its mouth, and about seven miles from the City of Dublin. It is finely situated, is the mail-packet station for communication from Holyhead and also from Dublin to Liverpool, is well built, and contains a population exceeding ten thousand. Just across the bay from it is that bold and picturesque object, the Hill of Howth. The pier is well worth attention, being an immense work of granite, and built at an expense of no less than £750,000 sterling. It encloses a harbor, I learned, of two hundred and fifty acres. At its head is a lighthouse. But I had scarcely a bird's-eye view of the town, as, having arrived in it during the night, I started early next day, by railroad, for the city. Indeed I now regret that I did not stay longer than I did, as the place is worthy of more atten tion than that slight attention which I bestowed on it, and it is not convenient for me to go back. But I wished to be in Dublin for church, and, besides, Sunday ought not to be spent in sight-seeing. Between Kingston and Dublin the country is in a high state, of cultivation, and the residences are noble. AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 203 Of course the first inquiry of a stranger, on reaching a city in which he is unacquainted, is for a suitable hotel. I was immediately taken to one, at my request, situated in the same street with, and at no great distance from, the station of the Kingston and Dublin Railroad. I will describe it to you. The house is a brick, slated, middle-sized house of three stories, standing in a clean, neat, very quiet street, (Westland Row,) into which a gateway opens from the play grounds of the University. Everything is very plain, clean, neat, and comfortable. There are only two objections : one is, there are too many servants about the establishment; and the charges, for the accommodations afforded, are too high. I must say that a more pleasant inn of the retired character I have never been in. After a while, the hour for worship approaching, I in quired after the localities of the various churches I wished to attend. Being shown the way to Mr. Dill's church on Ormond Quiy, I started for it a little before 10 o'clock. On reaching it, however, I found I was an hour too early, a thing indeed that I anticipated, having mainly gone to it thus early with the view of acquainting myself thoroughly with the direction to#it. In this state of matters I walked over the bridge hard by, where, falling in with a respectable- looking young man, I put an inquiry to him as to the Dub lin churches. He told me, after a little, that he was a Sun day school teacher in Christ Church, to which church he was just going. Accordingly I went thither, spending three quarters of an hour in looking through it, and then returning to Ormond Quay. In the afternoon I worshiped in the St. Mary's Abbey Presbyterian Church ; and in the evening I attended religious services in St. Patrick's Cathetlral. But, as I intend to go around again to-morrow both to Christ's Church and St. Patrick's, I will not, till after having done so, say anything more of the churches of this city or the services in them. With respect to myself, I will say, that I have seldom spent the day sacred to praise and prayer, more pleasantly than I did this one in Dublin. On the next day I first strolled for a while through the streets ofthe city, and then directed my steps to the Phenix Park; the Four Courts lying on the way back from this park to my hotel. To the impressions which these various objects made on me I will therefore ask your attention. But 204 TRAVELS IN FRANCE before I say anything of particular objects of interest, I will first make some general remarks as to the city. Dublin lies on both banks of the Liffey — which is a small but beautiful river rising in the mountains of Wicklow, and which, after a circuitous course of fifty miles, falls into Dub lin Bay a mile or- so below the city's eastern verge. This stream, which is enclosed by granite quays for the distance of two and a half miles, divides the town into two parts, these parts being joined by seven stone and two iron bridges. Of these bridges Carlisle Bridge, the largest and handsomest of the stone bridges, consists of three arches of moderate width, and that one of the metal bridges, which I was in the habit of passing, of one arch. The views from Carlisle Bridge, up and down the Liffey, and along several noble streets, are unsurpassed in any other city in the world. On the whole, I would remark that Dublin is well built, indeed it is better built than London, considering their relative sizes. St. Stephen's Green and Merrion Squarefire certainly admirable, and Sackville Street, (two hundred feet in width,) if properly planted with ornamental shade trees, would equal the noblest avenue in any part of the world. Yet, after all, this capital is not what it once was ; wjiat it. was before the union of the Irish Parliament with that of Britain. Once, more than two hundred and fifty peers made it their resi dence, and nearly three hundred commoners, almost all of these lords and commoners having been men of finished edu cation, of taste, and of fortune ; while at present not more than half a dozen lords, and about twenty commoners, make it their place of abode. However, to compensate in some degree for this loss, it is now the great railroad centre for Irel*d; railroads of the best construction, connecting it with, and giving it part of the trade of, all parts of the island, — the midland counties, the southern, the western, and the northern. It has also long had two noble canals con necting it with the interior and western portion of the country. Besides, I would remark, as to the architecture of the city, (in addition to what I said above,) that while the eastern parts are well built, the old parts are built but in differently, though even these are, I think, so far as I have passed through them, not at all inferior to the old districts of Paris and Boulogne. The present population of the city and suburbs is reckoned to be about two hundred and eighty thousand souls. AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 205 Dublin is very ancient, having existed in the time of the geographer Ptolemy, who gives it the name of Eblana; though it is likely that then it was merely an assemblage of wooden shanties, except that (since Tacitus tells us that in his day the waters and harbors of Ireland were the re sort of commerce and navigation,) some Roman or conti nental traders may have erected in it some substantial dwellings and storehouses. Such was Dublin about the middle ofthe second century ofthe Christian era, for it was at that time that Ptolemy flourished; Tacitus having flourished some time before him. We know of it little or nothing from the days of Ptolemy till a.d. 838, when a tribe of Norsemen seized it. From this tribe it was taken about a.d. 853, by Amlaf, of the royal blood of Norway, at the head of an army composed of Norsemen of tribes dif ferent from that which had held it ; and by Amlaf it was greatly improved and enlarged. About a.d. 948, its citizens were brought to profess Christianity. In a.d. 1170, by an unexpected assault, it was gotten possession of by the Anglo- Norman invaders of Ireland, (with whom, on account of the ties of race, and of affinities growing out of religion, many of the citizens sympathized ;) and in the next year, in the fall of the year, it was occupied by the English king, Henry II. , himself at the head of a strong force. At this time it is de scribed by an English writer as the chief city of all Ireland, and as being, by its very celebrated port, the rival even of London. Ofthe history of Dublin from this time, — since it is so well known, — I will not stop to write to you anything. As I have already told you, the first place, yesterday, as it happened, to which, after having walked around the quays and leading streets, I went, was the Phenix Park. This noble park lies up the Liffey on its north bank, and is just on the edge of the city. It is no less, persons say, than seven miles around, and, though carelessly kept, is greatly superior to anything of the sort in connection with any of the great cities of the United States, or even in the imme diate vicinities of London or Paris. Through it runs a road, but without hedge or fence on either side of it. Off to the one side of the park is the Vice-regal Lodge, standing in very handsome grounds which are separated from the part open to the public by a quickset hedge. This lodge is a beautiful building, very simple in its style of architecture. 17 206 TRAVELS IN FRANCE Its main front is only two stories in height, and wings of only one story extend a considerable way in a straight line from the two-storied part of the edifice. While wandering about in front of this building, and elsewhere in the park, I could not help admiring the fine prospect before the be holder, — taking in the city, the bay, and the Hill of Howth, and also vast, fertile plains, and, southward, extending as far as the Wicklow Mountains, boldly swelling in the dis tance, and verdant to the top. Also I could not help giving admiring attention to the skillful horsemanship of a number of ladies who were amusing themselves, cantering about on fine horses over the road and greensward. But what a con trast between the turn-outs of carriages in Hyde Park and in the Phenix ! There seemed the distance of infinity be tween the two displays. As I passed along through the groves, — and I would remark that the trees in these are mostly small, compared with those that I have looked upon in American forests, — I came upon a little flock of five beau tiful deer. The sight reminded me of what I have seen in former times in the woods and wilds of Arkansas. In this park the Dublin Zoological Society has gardens. Also in it there has been reared a grand monument to the late Duke of Wellington, a heavy obelisk of two hundred and ten feet in height, and constructed at the cost of £20",000 sterling. I have also been in the Law Courts, a soiled old building on the north bank of the Liffey, toward the western edge of the city. This edifice, — which is four hundred and fifty feet in length, and crowned by a dome, — is substantial, though, by no means, and in no respect, of a superior appearance or finish. In it the Irish lord chancellor, chief justice, and other officers of the law, hold their courts, and thus is it the grand resort at court times of the Irish bar. I thought the court rooms very poor in their accommodations and appearance, — I mean for the capital of Ireland. To the pleadings and mode of conducting business I have paid considerable attention. While undoubtedly the Irish bar will compare very favor ably vjith the American, or indeed with any other, the Irish lawyer being always not merely conversant with the business of his profession but also otherwise liberally educated, yet the speaking that I heard was not of an excellence superior to what is constantly listened to in the more respectable of the county courts of the United States. The lawyers' AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 207 speeches, however, are a great deal more condensed and shorter than is the case in America, and they get through with business faster. I cannot leave the Four Courts with out observing that it was in them that such men as Curran, O'Connell, Shiel, and others like them, made their grand forensic efforts. I will conclude this letter by saying that, in addition to the places that I have spoken of, I have been somewhat about the University, and have frequently strolled through its grounds. The chief edifice belonging to this celebrated institution of learning stands on the eastern side of that area now paved, called College Green, being on the other side of the Green from that other fine edifice, the old Parliament House, now the Bank of Ireland. Its grand front is built of Portland stone, and is of the Corinthian order ; and the building itself extends, in depth, six hundred feet. This is the building which is named, if I mistake not, Trinity Col lege. It, however, is not the only edifice belonging to the University. Other buildings, quite spacious, are also occu pied by it. Behind the buildings spoken of is the College Park, a green area of twenty-five acres, laid out in walks, and planted with a number of trees. In it, at all times at which I was there, the young men of the University had a large tent pitched, around which, for exercise and health, they were busily engaged in playing several athletic games. Dublin University, or the College of the Holy and Undi vided Trinity, (the latter the name given to it in the royal letters-patent chartering it,) is one of the best institutions of learning in the world. It possesses an excellent museum, a well-selected library of one hundred and fifty thousand vol umes, has always had able professors, (among them, in re mote days, Usher and Bedell,) has an attendance of two thousand students, and has a landed revenue of £15,000 per year. Among its present fellows, I was surprised, or per haps I ought to say I was not surprised, to find one of the old acquaintances of my boyish days, Mr. * * * *, one of the best mathematicians and classical scholars in Europe. The ground on which this institution stands, with the grounds immediately around it, has considerable historical celebrity. Here, in, or shortly before, 1166, Dermod Mc- Morrogh, the profligate King of Leinster, (who shortly afterwards introduced the Anglo-Normans into Ireland,) 208 TRAVELS IN FRANCE founded, no doubt partly with a view of compounding with Heaven for his wicked life, a priory named the Priory of All Hallows, or All Saints. Here resided the English King, Henry IL, under whom Ireland was conquered, during most ofthe time of his abode in Dublin, which was from Novem ber 11, 1171, to March 1, 1172, he having had constructed for himself on this spot, after the fashion of the Irish chiefs of those days, a palace of wicker-work ; and in it he enter tained, at the season of Christmas, with unusual festivities and splendor, his own nobles, conjointly with such of the great men of his recently acquired dominion, as could be reached by his invitation. Here, about 1326 or 1327, Adam Duff, (a gentleman, as the old writers call him, of the family ofthe O'Tooles,) was hanged, and burned, as a heretic, under the charges of being possessed of an evil spirit, and of deny ing the incarnation, the resurrection of the flesh, and other Christian truths. Here, in 1539, as part and parcel of the bold and sweeping project for the overturning of monastic establishments, were experienced the effects of governmental interference in the suppression of the Priory of All Hallows, whose edifice, with its appurtenances, was bestowed on the corporation of Dublin. And here, in March, 1592, was the first stone of the present University buildings laid, the mayor, aldermen, and commons, of the city, having granted the old decayed monastery and its surrounding grounds for the site of the new University about being founded. And the work of building, which was quickly commenced, was so far brought toward completion by January, 1592-3, that, at that time, the institution was opened, and her first student admitted. Such are the historical associations connected with long by gone generations, that, to the person who has carefully read Irish history, conglomerate around the plot of ground on which stands what was, for a long period, Ireland's only University. I remain yours, &c, M. F. AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 209 NO. XXIII. Christ Church — St. Patrick's — Presbyterian Churches — Glassncvin — G'Connell — Cur- ran — Circular Koad — Cloutarf — Extract from Gray. Dublin, June, 1855. I am this evening to leave this city for Belfast, and before taking leave of it, I will ask you to go around with me to some of the places of most interest, that while here I have gone to, and of which I have as yet spoken either imperfectly or not at all. I am sorry that I cannot stay in this place till the week after next, when in it, the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church in Ireland is to come together, (on the 3d of July,) as I would like very well to be present at the meeting for a short while ; but I find that to enjoy this privilege I must submit to a detention inconveniently long. Before taking my departure, however, as I have just told you that I am about to do, I take time, though I must do the thing hurriedly, to make out from my notes in fulfillment of a plan which I have laid down for myself, an account of several places which I view as worthy of special notice, that, in addition to those mentioned in my letter ofthe 19th inst., I have visited, and that I have not yet described to you. First, let me invite you to accompany me to the Castle. This edifice is not to be confounded with the Vice-regal Lodge in the Phenix Park, a mistake into which those who have no knowledge of the city often fall. It stands to the south of the river, and is immediately behind that beautiful modern structure, the Exchange. Going past the Exchange, and up a moderate elevation, I reached a wide gateway within which paced slowly, up and down, a sentinel. Passing him, I found myself in an extensive court, and, all around me, a very old and, I may say, crumbling edifice. Hoariness was marked on everything except the Vice-regal Chapel, which was rebuilt only about forty years ago, and which is regarded as an ex quisite specimen of Gothic architecture. In addition to this chapel, the Castle contains the state apartments of the Vice roy, together with an arsenal and armory. On the side of the edifice away from the Exchange, that is, facing the ge nial south, is the Castle garden. Dublin Castle was once a 17* 210 TRAVELS IN FRANCE place of great strength, but now a dozen large cannon-balls, — indeed, one of the balls of 130 pounds, that I have seen in the Philadelphia Navy Yard, and much more, the 212 pound balls of the Oregon and Peace-maker, — would send its old walls shivering into a thousand fragments. Its architecture, which to me seemed by no means particularly grand, is of different ages. We learn that in 1213, in the reign of John, it was completed, (according to the notions of the men of that age as to completeness,) and flanked with towers. However, since, no doubt, it has been greatly altered and enlarged. In the course of the events recorded in Irish history, the possession of this edifice has frequently been dis puted by rival parties, as of great moment. Thus, in 1534, when Lord Thomas Fitzgerald, Vice-deputy of the Island, commenced hostilities against the royal government, he be gan his hostilities by vain attacks on the Castle of Dublin. Again, in 1641, when the Catholic leaders conspired to wage that long semi-political, semi-religious civil war, by which, but with several variations of phases and of parties, Ireland, for upwards of ten years, was wasted,«their darling initiatory project was to seize, — if this part of their scheme had not been discovered, — this now crumbling edifice with its armory and arms. Also, in 1660, when the Commonwealth was about passing into dissolution, and when all men were hurry ing to transfer their allegiance to Charlas II. , it was occu-. pied by Sir Hardress Waller, one of the late king's judges, who, during several days resisted in it a fierce siege. And again, when, in 1796-7-8, the United Irishmen combined, in vast force, to bring about a revolution, each one of their various plans contemplated the seizure of this old stronghold. Having inspected the Castle, I will next ask you to go along Dame Street with me to the old Parliament-house, now the Bank of Ireland; a strange conversion, in my opinion, — for surely the edifice in which the Senate of a nation once met ought to be consecrated rather to Minerva than to Mam mon. This noble building stands on College Green, quite close to the University, and'is remarkable for the chasteness of its architecture, for its general beauty and finish, and for its magnificent colonnaded front, claiming the admiration of all beholders capable of appreciating it. The recollections connected with this structure are of the most elevated charac ter. In it sat Lord Charlemont and Lord Edward Fitz- AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 211 gerald, and in it was displayed the lofty and convincing elo quence of Flood, Curran, and Grattan. Again, let me lead you around the various churches in Dublin, in which I have been while here. But, before doing this, let me say a word of the various denominations in this city. I need scarcely remark that the Roman Catholic denomination greatly outnumbers, in nomi nal membership, every other, having nine or ten churches, seven friaries, three monasteries, and eight convents. Next comes the Protestant Episcopal Church, the law-established denomination, (and the one possessing most of the wealth of the city,) which in church edifices exceeds, four or five times over, the Catholic. Next, is the Methodist Church, with nine places of worship. As to the Presbyterians, I remark that, so far as I could ascertain, they have five places of worship, though none of them large. . Then follows the Congregational denomination. Then the Unitarian, which has four places of worship in various parts of the city. Then does the Baptist denomination come after. While the Jews, who are least numerous of all, have a synagogue. The first church to which (on Sabbath the 17th inst.) I went, in Dublin, as I believe I mentioned to you in my last letter, is that on Ormond Quay. This is a new Presbyterian place of worship, substantially built, but very plain and not large. The congregation was composed of persons of the middle class of society. The minister, Mr. Dill, is certainly a man of very superior talents for public speaking, though deficient in action, and, I fear, not always industrious in his pulpit preparations. In the afternoon of the same day I attended divine ser vices in the St. Mary's Abbey Church, also a Presbyterian place of worship. The congregation was rather thin, and the preaching somewhat dry, though manifesting consider able intellect. The preacher had a very strongly marked Scottish accent. The house, though capacious and com fortable, is a very ordinary building. Near the site of this church stood, before the Reformation, a famous abbey, the Abbey of St. Mary. Also, on the same day, I attended worship in the evening, in fet. Patrick's Cathedral, belonging to the Establishment. This edifice, which was built (by Archbishop Cumin) as early as 1190, and which therefore has a very ancient aspect, 212 TRAVELS IN FRANCE is situated in the southwest quarter of the city, in quite a low position, and amid very old streets. It is surmounted by a very lofty spire erected in 1750. In it lies the dust of several persons of great distinction in their day. Among these the most celebrated is Dean Swift. Here also is the grave of Stella, whom Swift's writings have made known to all who read the English tongue. The interior ofthe build ing is divided into two main parts, the one a place of sepul ture and promenade, and the other the place where the ser vices of religion are perfocmed. I heard, in this place of worship, a short sermon, which, though not delivered at a funeral, was intended for a funeral sermon. It was plain and sensible, and was well read, but did not support the reputa tion that Irishmen have for eloquence. The accompanying services, however, were very grand, being performed by a vast and well-trained choir occupying a part of the church overhung with antique swords and helmets in great numbers. So great is the attraction of this department of the worship, that it never fails to bring together a numerous assemblage. We are told that the poetess Mrs. Hemans had for it a most enthusiastic admiration, and that, during her abode in Dub lin, she was, on the Sabbath evenings, almost invariably pre sent ; listening, time and again, in seemingly rapt enjoyment, while * * * * «A.U the choir Sang hallelujah, as the sound of seas.'' "Indeed, the choral music in this cathedral," I copy the lan guage of another in relation to it, "is almost unrivaled in its combined power of voice, organ, and scientific skill. The majestic harmony of effect, thus produced, is not a little deep ened by the character of the church itself, which, though small, yet with its dark rich fretwork, knightly helmets and banners, and old monumental effigies, seems all filled and overshadowed by the spirit of chivalrous antiquity. The imagination never fails to recognize it as a fitting scene for high solemnities of old, a place to witness the solitary vigils of arms, or to resound with the funeral march of some war like king." Yet, a portion of the population of this citv, as I myself have heard, with a strange perversion of taste, speak of the music of St. Patrick's as Paddy's opera. In addition to the three places of worship that I have AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 213 just spoken of, I have also, while here, visited Christ Church in Dame Street, though I have not attended religious ser vices in it. It is the oldest place of worship now in exist ence in Dublin, having been founded about twenty-six years after the battle of Clontarf, and about one hundred and thirty years before the foot of the Anglo-Norman had touched Irish soil. The interior, like that of St. Patrick's, is divided into two chief divisions, one mainly for the dead and their monuments, and the other mainly for the perform ance of the services of religion. One monument that de serves the notice of the visitor is the one supposed, no doubt correctly, to be that of Earl Strongbow, the conqueror of Ireland, who was here interred, at his death, in 1176 ; near to which a more recent stone tablet in the wall is inscribed with his name. There is also another monument so unique in its character that it cannot fail to draw attention : this is a statue continued only to the middle, with the bowels open and held up by the hands. This monument commemo rates a son of Strongbow, — whether legitimate or illegiti mate, I cannot tell, — who, according to an ancient tradition, was cruelly cut in twain by his ferocious father by a blow of his sword, for yielding to boyish fear and fleeing from bat tle. Besides, there is a monument to an old warrior, very deserving of inspection, having a fine likeness, in stone, stretched on the tomb ; its legs being crossed in token, I presume, of the person represented having been a crusader. But the monuments of the dead of past ages are not the only things that drew my regards in the outer division of this ancient temple of worship. Walking up to two statues in the wall, side by side, cut out of large blocks of stone, and yet not detached from the wall, I could not but gaze upon them with much intentness. While thus employed, a man belonging to the city came up to me, and, looking along with me on the chiseled masses, entered, though with a modest reserve, into conversation. The statues are sorely bruised and beaten, this having been probably done at the time, during the Protestant Reformation in Ireland, when images were about being removed from the edifice; and these being incapable of being carried off were smashed and mutilated by the persons employed in the work of purga tion, that they might not leave them without some manifes tation, at least, of dislike. I inquired of the person stand- 214 TRAVELS IN FRANCE ing beside me as to those whom the battered yet venerable sculptures represented. '-'This one," pointing to one of the bruised images, said he, in mournful accents, " is St. Pat rick." The feet of the good Patricius had been smashed off at the hollow of the foot, and the zealous missionary had been stricken on the face till cheek-bones and nose were beaten in. Nor had his silent, rigid companion by his side fared, at the hands of the austere iconoclasts, by a whit bet ter. I cannot go away from this old cathedral without men tioning a few facts belonging to its long history. It was founded, as we learn from ancient annals, about the year of our Lord 1040, by Donatus, the first Bishop of Dublin; this being not far from one hundred years after the conversion of the Dubliners (who were either Norsemen or of Norseman extraction) to Christianity. Further, we learn that, in founding it, Donatus acted under the patronage of Sitric, the Danish prince who then reigned in this metropolis; Sitric generously donating ground for the site, furnishing money for building, and bestowing funds for an endowment and permanent support. A little more than one hundred and thirty years after this, in 1176, the fierce soldier who had conquered Ireland, Earl Strongbow, was borne by his mailed warriors, with funeral march, through its portals, and laid beneath its floor, to be trod over by even the lowliest. Ten years after, in 1186, a provincial synod was held in it, remarkable for the acerbity, during its sittings, with which the English and Irish clergy berated each other ; the Irish upbraiding their English brethren more particularly with the maintaining of wives and concubines. In it, just three hun dred years subsequent, in 1486, was the arch-imposter, Lam bert Simnel, crowned king. Subsequent to this time, — and, I presume, before it, as we learn, — it was the place of assem bling not only of councils but also of parliaments, and the common resort, in term-time, for definitions of matters by judges and learned men. Coming down to 1539, we find that, at that time, from being a House of Canons, it was changed (Henry VIII. filling the throue) into a Semi- Protestant Dean and Chapter. Twelve years after this, — in 1551, — (Edward VI. occupying the throne,) the whole of the religious services performed in it came to be main tained in the language of the worshiping people ; the liturgy in English being then introduced. Next, only about three AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 215 years after this, in consequence of the accession of Queen Mary, the old forms of religion were restored. And again, about five years subsequent, in 1559, under Elizabeth, the reformed forms of divine service were, a second time, set up. On this occasion, an attempt was made by one of the Recu sant party, Father Leigh, to impose on the public credulity by a false miracle. A sponge soaked in blood was placed in the hollow of the head of a marble image representing the Saviour standing with a reed in his hands and a crown of thorns on his head ; and, as the blood trickled down, an outcry that the Saviour sweated blood, was raised from a considerable portion of a vast crowd of worshipers. But the cheat was quickly detected, as its weak author might have expected, and the bloody sponge publicly exhibited. I will only add that, of the transactions connected with the history of this edifice, from the second introduction of Pro testant worship down to the present day, I will refer but to one single event: I speak of the placing, in the next year, 1560, of a large Bible in the middle of the choir, (as was also done in St. Patrick's,) for the use of the public, in consequence of which the old building became, for a con siderable time, a place of great concourse on the part of the citizens. I will conclude this letter with some observations in rela tion to two places in the neighborhood of this metropolis, that to me have had considerable interest, — the villages of Glassnevin and Clontarf. First, permit me to give you a brief account of my excur sion to Glassnevin. This is quite a small village, lying about three and a half miles to the N.N.W. of the city, in which are situated the chief buryhtg-ground belonging to'Dublin, and also the botanic garden of the Dublin Royal Society. Hiring a jaunting-car, I was soon carried beyond the verge of brick houses and of streets, and put down at the gate of the field of the dead, for which I was seeking. Entering the gate, I walked up a graveled alley leading to a neat Roman Catholic chapel. Further on, I found the grave of all that is mortal of that once most active and bustling of all the men of his generation, the eloquent barrister and commoner, Daniel O'Connell. I then walked to another part of the graveyard where a vault is about being prepared for him by his enthusiastic admirers, and where a monument 216 TRAVELS IN FRANCE is about being raised to his memory, which is intended to outvie, in height and grandeur, that erected in Sackville Street (though it is above one hundred and thirty feet high) to Lord Nelson. In another part of the same sepul chral area lies the body of John Philpot Curran, that most eloquent advocate of persecuted patriotism, in a dark and disastrous period of Irish histosy. Glassnevin burying- ground contains forty-two acres, and is handsomely en closed, ornamented, and divided off by graveled walks. For quiet beauty, no place of the sort can surpass it. Its vaults and burying-plots are mostly owned by Catholics, though many Protestants also have preferred here to take their last, long rest. At length, wearied in traveling among the groves of little crosses, (crosses being raised by Catho lics over their deceased friends,) I passed to the neighbor ing botanical garden. I have seen several botanical gar dens, and this is certainly one of the finest and best kept to be met with anywhere. Its collection of rare and useful plants is large, its avenues are beautiful and carefully at tended to, and its hot-houses are admirably adapted to their purpose. It stands on the parcel of ground that was for merly occupied by the poet Thomas Tickell, one of the best of the minor poets, and the confidential friend of Addison ; a circumstance that of itself attaches interest to the spot. Having gratified my curiosity, I returned to my jaunting- car, and, driving to the circular road, — a road of nine miles in length, which goes around a good part of the city, — made my entry by a different route from that by which I had made my exit. Next, let me tell you of another place in the neighbor hood OrHbis capital that I havr taken a deep interest in : I speak of the far-famed village of Clontarf. This village, which contains a population of seven hundred souls, lies on the north side of Dublin Bay, and at the distance of three miles E.N.E. of the city. It contains several good resi dences, though many of the dwellings are but of an indiffer ent character. It has also, connected with it, a castle, — Clontarf Castle, — well worthy of being mentioned. But what attaches to it its chief interest is that the plain in its vicinity was the scene, nearly eight centuries and a half ago, of the great and decisive battle of Clontarf. This engage ment, the greatest in the history of Celtic Ireland, was fought AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 217 on April 23, 1014 : in it, the Norsemen, (from the shores of the Baltic, from most of the Danish settlements in Ireland, and from the Scottish Isles,) aided by the Irish of Leinster and by reinforcements of Britons from Cornwall and Wales, being marshaled on one side ; and the Irish of Munster, and partially also of Connaught and Ulster, with a small body of friendly Norsemen, all under the aged Brian Borooh, be ing ranged on the other side. In this conflict, which lasted from early in the morning till after dark, more than six thousand of the Norsemen and their allies fell, and thence forth, though still permitted to dwell in the country in large numbers, these haughty invaders had to concede the main political control, in all matters of national concern, to the Irish themselves. It was this battle which formed the foundation of Gray's truly poetical ode of "The Fatal Sisters," a translation of a song in the Norse tongue, written about 1029 ; which Norse soDg was reputed to have been sung, near Caithness, in Scot land, during the progress of the fight, (in the hearing of one who memorized it,) by those Gothic goddesses called the Choosers of the Slain, while, amid wild rocks in that region, weaving their web on their loom of death. I will close this letter by extracting three or four stanzas from this poem. As the huge, grim beings worked at their loom, the bard tells us that thus they sang : "See the grisly texture grow ! ('Tia of human entrails made!) And the weighis, that play below, Each a gasping warrior's head. "Shafts, (for shuttles,) dipt in gore, Shoot the trembling cords along; Sword, that once a monarch bore, Keep the tissue close and strong. "Weave the crimson web of war: — Let us go, and let us fly, Where our friends the conflict share, Where they triumph, where they die. "Long Brian's loss shall Erin weep, Ne'er again his likeness see; Long her strains in sorrow steep, — Strains of immortality !" I remain yours, &c, M. F. 18 218 TRAVELS IN FRANCE NO. XXIV. Journey to Belfast — Mud-houses — Drogheda — Dundalk — Belfast — Prosperity — Queen's CoUege — Dr. Cooke — Dr. Montgomery — Dr. McCosh. Belfast, June, 1855. I arrived on Saturday evening in this borough, the me tropolis of the North of Ireland, a place with which I was once very familiar, having been, in my youthful days, a ma triculate in the college department of the now extinct Royal Belfast Academical Institution, — where I attended from the beginning of November, 1828, to the conclusion of the ex aminations at the close of April, or beginning of May, 1831. Thus now do I find myself amid old and well-remembered scenes. But how changed are all things ! In the town I have found only three persons remaining that I then knew. Some have died, some have removed far hence, and a few, in other places of the British Islands, have risen to distinc tion in the various learned professions. Even the place of learning itself, in which I was partially educated, has given place to another, Queen's College, raised under a more mu nificent parliamentary patronage, and thus better endowed, though in an educational point of view not a whit superior to the extinct Dissenting institution. Then, how changed the town ! What in my juvenile years had b n green fields, and around which, when grain was growing in them, I have often rambled, is now far within the circle of new brick-houses and beautiful streets. And the surrounding country has changed almost as much as the town. Even the deer-park in the neighborhood of Cavehill hard-by, to which I and several companions used occasionally on pleasant Saturdays to walk out, has been encroached on till it has nearly ceased to re tain its old character ; while the noble white buck, — white as the driven snow, — that would often let us come within a few yards of him, (the only white animal of the race that I have ever seen, though I have seen more, taking in both sides of the Atlantic, than any one could readily count,) has disap peared from those old haunts, of which he was once an ornament ; having, no doubt, paid the debt of nature. AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 219 But you will expect me to say something of my journey from Dublin hither.* I left Dublin on the afternoon of the 21st inst. On my way I stopped at the towns of Drogheda and Dundalk. Also I may mention that in journeying I passed through parts of the counties of Dublin, Meath, Louth, Armagh, Down, and Antrim. The towns that lie on the road are, Malahide, (a small but well-built bathing village celebrated for its old castle,) Drogheda and Dun dalk, (just mentioned as places at which I stopped,) Newry, (a borough noted for its industry and trade,) Portadown, (situated in the midst of a very moral and industrious rural population,) and Lurgan and Lisburu, (both fine towns.) The country, all the distance, is rich and beautiful, and most of it very carefully though not skillfully, with some excep tions, cultivated. Through the first part of the way I ob served that the houses of the country people, poor structures to be named farm-houses, are built of mud ; a sort of dwell ing-house that I have also seen in France. Before seeing them, I had associated the idea of mud-houses with a poor soil. The contrary, however, generally is the fact. What leads those who build them to erect such habitations, is that the rich soil is destitute of stones for building, while the farmers, — owing to the monopoly of land by a few, — are either tenants at will, or on leases, (sometimes, it is true, long leases, and occasionally perpetual leases,) and are therefore generally unwilling, even when able, to be at the expense of bring ing to their farms the proper materials for rearing good dwellings. In my journey I stopped, during brief times, as I have already said, at two intermediate places, in coming from Dublin to this borough, — Drogheda and Dundalk, — as to which, though my opportunities of observation were small, I will say something. With respect to Drogheda, (thirty miles to the north of Dublin,) I remark that it is situated in one of the most beau tiful districts of country in the world, and that it lies on both sides of the beautiful River Boyne, — which is here crossed by a stone bridge of three arches. There is not anything grand or sublime, but for calm beauty the country and the river are unsurpassed. The town itself, which contains about seven teen thousand inhabitants-, has several good and well-built streets. It has also considerable shipping, and it has steam- 220 TRAVELS IN FRANCE boat connections with England and Scotland. Besides, — another thing worth the notice of the stranger, — some small relics of the old wall are to be seen, for anciently it was strongly fortified. In addition to what I have said, I would call attention to the circumstance that several important historical associations are connected with the place. Thus, in it, as early as 1464, a parliament, for such part of the island as was then shire-ground, was held. Also it has been the scene of important military transactions, having been twice besieged. It was besieged (Sir Henry Tichbourn commanding the garrison) by the insurgent Catholics, under Sir Phelim O'Neil, at the beginning ofthe civil wars of 1641; the" siege lasting during the month of December of this year, and during the months of January and February of the suc ceeding year, — near the end of which last-named month the Marquis of Ormond compelled them to retire. Again, in 1649, it was besieged. At this time it was in the hands of the United Party, composed of the Protestant Royalists under Ormond, and ofthe Confederate Catholics ; .its gover nor being a Roman Catholic, Sir Arthur Aston, a man of a deservedly high reputation as a soldier. Opposed to him, Oliver Cromwell, at the head of a powerful force, sat down before its walls on the 2d of September of the year named. About eight days after this, its defences having been breached, the town was assaulted. After two tremendous repulses, the English general himself leading the third assault at the head of his reserve, the place was taken. The subsequent massacre of the brave garrison has fixed a dark stain on his memory. Moreover, close by, not far above the town, on the river, was fought, on July 1, 1690, the cele brated battle of the Boyne, the most important engagement that has yet occurred on Irish soil. On the one side was William III., at the head of thirty-six thousand men, — Hollanders, English, Irish Protestants, some Scotch, French Huguenots, Danes, and Germans, — with a powerful park of artillery; and on the other side, James II. , at the head of an army of Irish Jacobites, (mostly Catholics,) and of French auxiliaries. The superior numbers, artillery, discipline, and arms, of William's forces, (these being superior in every thing except cavalry and position,) gave them, after a hard- fought conflict, the famous but not decisive victory of the Boyne Water. On this occasion fell, on William's side, the AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 221 Duke of Schomberg, the eminent soldier to whom Portugal had owed her independence. To commemorate this battle, I learned that a lofty obelisk has been raised on the field, a little more than two. miles and a half above the town. In relation to Dundalk, I observe that it stands on a little river named the Castletown River, about fifteen or sixteen miles to the north of Drogheda, and that it contains a popu lation of about ten thousand. It possesses a jail and court house, and some good streets ; but the old part of it has quite a mean appearance. It was anciently of considerable importance, one thing that contributed to this being the circumstance that it lay on the northern verge of the old district inhabited by the Anglo-Normans, called the Anglian Pale. I may remark that this old town has two things con nected with its history in medieval times, that served to kindle in me considerable curiosity in respect to it. Indeed but for these I would probably have passed it by without any special notice. Here, — during the war that jjrew out of the invasion of Edward de Bruce, (brother to the Bruce of Bannockburn,) who landed in Ireland, at the head of a Scottish army, on May 15, 1315, — occurred some of the most important events connected with that war. Soon after his landing, it was stormed by De Bruce and burned. Here, or rather about a mile off, was he crowned king of Ireland. Within two miles of it, at Taughart, about three years after, . — in the autumn of 1318, — did Lord John Bermingham, a Palian chief, defeat him in the decisive battle of Dundalk ; in which (after having fought in various parts of the island no less than eighteen engagements, in most of which he was victor,) he fell. And here, in the churchyard of Taughart, was all of him that the gloomy harshness of his enemies would permit to be covered by its mother-earth, buried, — the spot being still pointed out to the stranger as King Bruce's grave. Besides, it is worthy of being noted, when speaking in relation to the town of Dundalk, that in it, not far from the time at which the events, of which I have been speaking, occurred, the famous Richard Fitz-Ralph was born. This man gave the first indication in the middle ages that there was any one who felt that some reform in the Christian Church was needed. Celebrated in his day as a preacher, he did not fail at London and Lichfield, in England, at Drogheda, Dundalk, and Trim, in Ireland, and at Avig- 18* 222 TRAVELS IN FRANCE non in France, to which last-named city he was cited, about 1360, by Pope Innocent VI., to answer for his alleged errors, — I say he did not fail in these various places to thunder with all the force of his eloquence against what he deemed the errors of the Western Branch of the Christian Church. So much for my journey from Dublin to Belfast. This town, as is well known to every one having any knowledge of Ireland, is one of the most thriving, orderly, industrious, and enterprising towns in the British Islands. No one can conceive of the advances it has made, except some one who, in past days, like myself, knew it well, and who, after a long absence, (in my case a little more than twenty-four years,) has returned to visit it. It has now a population of one hundred thousand, and there is as little appearance of drunkenness, idleness, poverty, or want, as in any place that I have ever been in ; indeed, I may affirm that neither here, nor in Dublin, nor in any other place in which P'have been since I landed at Kingston, have I seen a single beggar. It is uniformly, I may say, well built, and has many fine streets, — of which I will only name High Street, which is the great business street, and Chichester Street, noted for its fine private residences ; it has also some fine squares, as Donegal Square and College Square. Yet with all its wealth and public spirit, — and it largely possesses both, — and though it has many well-sustained public institu tions, there is a lack of public edifices remarkable for. either their antiquity or their architecture or grandeur. In this respect it resembles most American cities. Indeed, the only edifice remarkable for its tasteful architecture, in the town, is the new Queen's College, and (strange to tell) it is built of brick. Otherwise, it would be worthy of being mentioned with very high distinction. In the neighborhood of the borough is a large and very noble botanic garden, which I have inspected with great attention ; one that would be an ornament, in many respects, to Paris or London. Belfast is connected by canals and railroads with many of the finest districts of the North of Ireland. The Laggan, the stream on which it stands, is small, yet it has a sufficiently spacious harbor, which is accessible to ships of a large size when they have partially unloaded their freights, at four miles below. The population is composed of quite a church-going peo ple. It is divided into about three equal parts, the Episco- AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 223 palian, Dissenting, and Roman Catholic. The Presbyterian section of the Dissenters is distinguished for the talents and eloquence of several of its clergy. Among these I may name Doctors Cooke, Morgan, and Edgar, belonging to the. Irish General Assembly, and Dr. Montgomery, belonging to the Unitarian Presbyterians ; three of whom, Doctors Cooke, Morgan, and Montgomery, I have been so fortunate as to hear preach. Both as a pulpit orator and a debater, Dr. Cooke is unsurpassed by any living man, (I speak not merely from present impressions, but from impressions of more than twenty-four years' standing,) and Dr. Montgomery, though very far from being equal to the other as a preacher, equals him as a platform speaker and a debater, and indeed, in re spect to excellence of voice and power of imagination, sur passes him. Having heard many speakers in the Senate, at the bar, and in the pulpit, in America, and having heard many of the most celebrated speakers in the Parliament, at the bar, and in the pulpits, of England, I give this to you as being my deliberate opinion. The fact is, I have never heard from any speaker anything to equal, (I mean as to this point,) the splendid though somewhat ragged climaxes of Doctor Cooke. And the elocution of these men, — and this though Cooke has now all the looks of a quite aged man, and Mont gomery is quite stooped and bent, — is in keeping, as to its beauty and dignity, with the eloquence of their language and the excellence of their matter. In connection with my mention of the names of these men, I would state that I have formed the acquaintance of the eminent author, Dr. McCosh. This man, who seems to be about forty years of age, is a Scotchman, though no one would suspect this from his accent in private conversation. He now occupies the chair of Logic in Queen's College. Pleasant, modest, unassuming, and dignified, he receives his friends with the greatest kindness. A more conversable and reasonable com panion, a friend milder and more companionable, is not easily to be met with. I need not tell you that his success as an author has been very great. And I have been informed that he is quite eminent as a preacher. I will conclude this letter with a word or two as to the past of the borough from which I address you. Belfast has less of a history connected with it than most of the large towns on this side of the Atlantic. Before the deso- 224 TRAVELS IN FRANCE lating conflict and carnage of 1641, it does not seem to have been a place of any great consequence, having been more noted for numerous "and extensive iron-works in its neighborhood than for its trade. Yet its population must have been con siderable, since it is recorded with respect to it that, in the pestilential fever which in the year named ravaged the coun try, (in consequence partly of famine, partly of hardships, and partly of the number of corpses unburied,) there died in it and Malone together, about two thousand persons. Sub sequently it came, during said conflict, to be occupied by a garrison of Protestant soldiery, these being, in the first place, Irish; and, in 1644, this garrison was compelled to come, though with great reluctance on the part of a portion of it, under the command of the Scottish general, Monro, who brought it under his military control by surprising the town. Again, between forty and fifty years after this, — in June, 1690, — King William III. made it, during a number of days, his residence, along with the Duke of Schomberg, the Prince of Wirtemberg, the Prince of Denmark, the Duke of Ormond, and many other distinguished persons, (noblemen and commoners.) In the days of the Irish Volunteers, and afterwards in those of the United Irishmen, it was distin guished for warm patriotism. About 1813, it became the seat of a new Dissenting College, named the Royal Belfast Academical Institution, a seminary of learning distinguished for the attainments of its professors. And I add that, within a few years, this seminary has been superseded by a univer sity chartered and richly endowed by Parliament. I conclude by subscribing myself, &c, M. F. P. S. — I purpose to leave in a couple of hours for Lon donderry by steamboat. AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 225 NO. XXV. Voyage to Derry— Fog— Derry-^Tourney to Swilly Bay— Appearance of Country- Bay — Iteminisconces, &c. — Americans. E , County of Donegal, 1 July, 1855. j I concluded to come to Londonderry from Belfast by steamboat, and, (the steamer starting, for what reason I do not know, several hours earlier than the hour that she was advertised for in the newspapers,) after a passage extending through a night and a considerable part of the next day, arrived in the first-named city, — from within about thir teen miles of which I now address you. What detained us so long on the water was a thick fog, during which our cap tain lay by. Otherwise, our brief voyage was quite pleasant. Sailing, toward the evening, from the wharf in Belfast, as we passed down the Bay, the atmosphere being clear and transparent, we had a fine view of the country on either shore. It is beautiful, and well cultivated, and the numer ous white cottages contribute to confer on it an appearance of liveliness and happiness. We had also, as we passed, a sight of the town and old castle of Carrickfergus. Then appeared before us a far-stretching mist, the thin vapor that betokens the presence of the wide sea. When I awoke in bed, next morning, I thought, from the stillness of the boat, that we were already lying beside one of the quays of Derry. But, to my disappointment, on going on deck I found we were yet far in the midst of the waste of waters. The wide expanse, too, was covered with a fog so thick that it seemed as if one might cut it with a knife. Nor could the captain tell exactly where we were. In such circumstances, on the rock-bound coast of Ireland, and in a very narrow sea, the only path to safety is to lie-to. In this manner were we detained during several hour!, so that we did not reach our destined port till after mid-day. As we passed up the Foyle, the day being lovely, we had a very fine prospect of the shores on either hand. Not anything can be conceived more beautiful than they are ; one respectable-looking resi dence after another, embowered in shrubbery, being pre- 226 TRAVELS IN FRANCE sented to the view almost all the way up, — a distance, I pre sume, of more than twenty miles. Then, my seafaring for the present being ended, upon going ashore I was induced, by the advice of a fellow-passenger, to go to the Commer cial Inn, near the steamboat-landing ; which inn I found to be very comfortable, and indeed pleasant. I had, before leaving Derry, no great opportunity to see it, (a city once familiar to me as having gone to school in the neighborhood,) since I had to accommodate myself to a vehicle starting in a couple of hours for near the place that I write this letter from. Yet, short as was my stay, I could not help the receiving of impressions, nor could I help the making of some inquiries. On looking around, I could see that the city was far from being stationary. In the last twenty-three years it has made very manifest progress, both in extending itself and in the renewal of its buildings. In deed, it seems, at this time, as well built as any city I have seen in Europe or America ; a thing that was far from being the case a quarter of a century ago. It has now, also, two important railroads connecting it very intimately with large districts of country and with Belfast and Dublin. Moreover, its steamboat trade has greatly increased. Yet, of late years it has suffered much in two points of view. The linen trade, once so important, has died almost entirely away ; no doubt a result flowing from Eli Whitney's invention of the cotton- gin and the consequent cheapening of cotton fabrics. Be sides, a vast amount of foreign trade, that once centred in it, has been transferred to Liverpool ; on account, no doubt, of the regular packet communications established betwixt all the great foreign ports and that great emporium, and of the facilities of intercourse, by steamboat, that now sub sist between. the two ports. But, while, things that are artificial change, the aspect of nature is the same. The city still stands on the broad summit of a hill ; the beautiful and. deep River Foyle still winds around its southern base ; the deep, broad ravine of past times still lies to the north ; Gulmore Point and Fort are*ttill to be seen, off the walls, down the river, where, on the 28th of July, 1689, was wit nessed the memorable scene of the Mountjoy, the Phoenix, and the Dartmouth Frigate, in spite of a hail-storm of bombs and balls, breaking the boom across the stream to bring relief to a people, among whom the heads of dogs AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 227 brought two shillings and sixpence a-piece, cats four and sixpence a-piece, and a mouse sixpence. But I do not in tend to give an account of Derry in this letter. I made some inquiries as to old acquaintances, and as to persons of whom I once had some knowledge. On inquiring with respect to one with whom, in days gone by, I was on terms of intimate familiarity, — a young man as accomplished and of as agreeable and winning an address as any one that I. have ever known, a scholar and a man at once of talents and of unblemished integrity and morals, — I learned the particulars of his death, the general fact having been before not unknown to me. Some time after having finished his college and professional courses of study, he had been em ployed to assist, in the capacity of surgeon, Colonel Taylor and Captain Lynch in making an exploration of the Eu phrates and Tigris, with a view to open a new channel of communication and trade with the East Indies. Subsequent to the winding up of his duties on the plains of Babylon and Ninevah, and in the regions adjoining, he had engaged in some commercial projects in company with another; and, while the two were in the East, — this latter referred-to per son at Bassora, and he at Shiraz, — attending to their affairs, he, when returning to his lodgings at ten o'clock at night, after having spent the evening with a Persian gentleman, received an injury by the fall upon him of an old wall, in consequence of which he died at four on the following morn ing, the morning of the 24th of July, 1845. Peace be to his ashes, which repose among the Musselmen of Shiraz, unmarked by a stone ; the stone raised to his memory being placed in the Armenian Church at Bassora; as, if placed over his body, his friends were told that it would be broken by the fanaticism, of the followers of the false prophet. In a Christian sense I would say in respect to him, following in the footsteps of the old Roman when bidding adieu to his recently buried dead, "Vale, — vale, — supremum vale: — sit tibi terra levis, et faeilis somnus." On inquiring for another old friend, I learned that he had become blind, and this though still a young man. On inquiring for some others, persons, when I last saw them, not young, I was guided to their house and found them old, decrepit, and sinking into the grave. On inquiring for others still, I learned that they had become prosperous professional men, distinguished at 228 TRAVELS IN FRANCE the bar, in the sick-room, and in the pulpit. And on inquiry for a wealthy merchant who had dealt, among other things, in wines and liquors, I learned that that which had been an important instrument in increasing his wealth, already great, had, by a striking Providence, caused his death ; that a liquor cask, which was about being raised by a pulley, had fallen upon him and brought to a quick conclu sion his connection with transitory things. But the hour for the jaunting-car to start soon arrived, and I was again on my way. Our road lay, for about two miles, along the river and parallel to the railroad to Stra- bane, and then crossed the body of country lying between the River Foyle and Swilly Bay, in the direction of this bay. This road running through a long series of carefully tilled farms was not new to me any more than Derry had been. Yet, amid a general unchanging sameness, what changes I Here, about three and a half miles from the city, had been a vast bog when I last passed ; and, not a long time before that, I following, in company with a hunting party, a pack of beagles, (for the one time in my life,) the horses had been compelled to skirt this at its utmost verge. But now not merely a dozen horsemen, (such about had been the number of the party spoken of,) but a regiment of cuirassiers on their heavy war- steeds, might, without dread of quagmire, gallop over the same soil. It had been converted into the most beautiful green fields and farm to be seen in any land. Upon this farm I may observe that I saw a new sort of fence, that I have not seen anywhere else. It was not fixed in the ground but set on it, — except an occasional post sunk here and there, — being composed of a number of detaehed parts locked together, these parts being like those instru ments on which clothes are dried, called clothes-horses. Having left this farm behind us, we then passed, a few miles on, the beautiful sheet of water named Portlough, with its deer-park ; which old park I found to have nearly disap peared. Then we passed extensive shrubberies and a fine manor, one of the residences of the Marquis of Wicklow. Then we passed through Newton, with its old castle of the reio-n of James I., now only inhabited as to a few rooms; the castle lying on our left hand amid old woods venerable for the size and stateliness of their trees, and a wide culti vated marsh of land inexhaustibly rich, from which the sea AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 229 has been shut off by a rampart, lying, on our right, in the direction of the neighboring bay of Swilly. And then, one mile farther on, we reached a large arm of this bay itself, eight miles from Derry. Crossing this expanse of water, (at this place about two miles wide at full tide,) from its gently heaving bosom, as the boat carried me over, I gazed at lei sure on all around. Almost every part of either landscape within view had been trodden by my youthful feet. Among other objects, on the shore before me, were visible the ruins of the Abbey of Killydonnel, in which ancient religious house monks had for centuries performed their devotions, but which has long been mere shapeless heaps of stones, with only some few of the cloisters and some ivy-covered walls standing. A poet has said that, " The faintest relics of a shrine Of any worship summon thoughts divine;" and no wonder then if I were moved by those old, broken and tottering fragments of a medieval structure that once sheltered men, some at least of whom truly loved the Lord. Also, on both shores what fine woods and stately mansions were visible, the abodes of wealth and luxury 1 But the boat soon touched the quay of the western shore, and I found myself within a few miles' of the spot from which I write this epistle. The short remaining part of my day's journey was mostly performed while twilight was gradually curtaining the landscape with the darkening shades of the night. Partly on this account, and partly because what remains touches so delicately on the most sacred sensibilities of our nature,— these sensibilities being, in this case, specially af fected by reminiscences of change and death, — I here cease, at least at this time, to say anything more of the scenes and events of the short remainder of the evening. Next day I looked all around on the scenes of past-gone days ; at the old stone-house, which has stood nearly two hundred years, extending almost as far lengthwise as some palaces, and yet only a portion of it two stories in height ; at the garden, in which I had so often planted garden escu lents ; at the orchard, now growing old ; at the noisy stream of water, running at its foot, and only separated from it by the highway ; and at the green, fairy hill rising beyond, which I have often thought, and which I still think, one ' 19 230 TRAVELS IN FRANCE of the most beautiful objects on which human eye can rest. After this, by an ascent which is very gradual and which continues for more than a mile's distance, I made my way to the broad level surface of a ridge covered with heath; on which heathy expanse, in years long gone by, I had spent many a Saturday's afternoon, (there being then no school,) partly with a book, and, while thus employed, occasionally listening to the song of the soaring lark or to the notes of the cuckoo, and partly keeping a look-out after a flock of cattle. From this spot, what a prospect ! In one direc tion are situated, at rflany miles off, bare mountains of per pendicular rock, rising, it would seem, six or seven hundred feet : in another are visible the ruins of an old Danish fort : in another is a beautiful little river coursing through a wide fer tile valley containing a lordly mansion and fine plantations: in another is a boundless extent of heath with its little blue flowers and innumerable humming-bees : and in another, in full view, lies, stretched out, Swilly Bay, with its various ob jects of interest, to wit: the Eagle's Nest, a hill, (on its eastern shore,) on which are the ruins of the stronghold of an ancient Irish prince, and, on the opposite shore, the place whence, in 1607, the powerful Earls of Tyrone and Tyrconnel had set sail, when abandoning their native land forever ; next, the little mountainous isle, in which the Williamites of 1688 had had a camp during the siege of Derry, and where Kirke's ships had ignobly lain by ; next, four of the six massive bat teries built along the bay-shore to keep the United Men from getting aid, in men or arms, from revolutionary France ; next, the spot where the brave but unfortunate Captain Pack- enham, of the frigate Saldanna, and his three hundred men, in 1812, had found a watery grave; and, beyond all these, the blue mist rising from that district of ocean on which, in the fall of 1798, Sir Burlase Warren had defeated the squa dron of Commodore Bompart. While lying among the heather and gazing around on the things enumerated, and at the same time dwelling on some of the associations con nected with them, I strove in vain to catch the notes of a single lark singing in the far-up sky, — the place on which I was stretched being one where, in other days, I would, in a quarter of an hour, have heard the music of a dozen of this tribe of songsters. While thus reclining, a mountaineer ap proached me, with whom I entered into a long conversation. AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 231 Upon my speaking of the scarcity of the lark tribe, com pared with past years, he, after a little, pointed out to me, first one lark, and then two or three, soaring so high as to be both nearly invisible and inaudible. I then began inqui ries as to old school-fellows and acquaintances. One old school-fellow, born to independence and 'more than compe tence, had led so thoughtless a life that, having sold his property and collected cnly part of the money, he went to Australia and thence to New Zealand, and the uncollected money was, after sixteen years of absence, still unclaimed. He must therefore be dead. Another, a surgeon in the em ploy of the government, had been aboard an ocean steamer that had caught fire at sea. He escaped into a boat, but, seeing a child still on the burning deck, returned to the ship, and, having seized it, attempted to leap with it to the place of safety in which he had lately been. Alas 1 the child was cast into the boat, while he himself sank at its edge to rise no more. Another had sailed for the Western Continent, but the ship and all on board had perished at sea. Another had gone to British America, had taken part with the in surgents, and lost his life in the civil commotions of Canada. One was a missionary in a British colony. Two were law yers, one an attorney and the other a counselor. Several had graduated to the healing art. A couple were clergy men in their native land. Several were farmers, and several merchants. And two were living on landed properties. Then, as to neighbors, what changes ! Immediately on my coming into this neighborhood no less than two Americans came in the following of my footsteps, (the presence of an American here being ordinarily very un usual,) one of them a clergyman from«Quiney, Illinois, and the other a Philadelphian. I heard the minister, who is on his way to Switzerland, preach an excellent discourse on yes terday. I myself preached twice, once in one of the Presby terian churches, (which are three in number,) and the other time in the Methodist. I conclude this letter by observing that I purpose to leave this place to-morrow; either for Dublin, (where on to-morrow the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church in Ire land meets,) or perhaps for Glasgow, intending to pass thence to Edinburgh. Yours, &c, M. F. 232 TRAVELS IN FRANCE NO. XXVI. Voyage to Glasgow — Beacon-lights — Short Stay at Greenock — Mouth of the Clyde — Glasgow — Broomielaw — Railroads to Edinburgh — Edinburgh — Scene in- Prince's Street — General Description of the City — Society — Population — Castle— Soldiery — No Music — Holyrood — Its Chapel — Koyal Burial Vaults, &c. — More Ancient Scottish Palaces — Old Parliament House — Wodrow's Remark — University— Assembly HaU of the Established Church — Knox's House — Spot of Martyrdom. Edinburgh, July, 1855. The last letter I wrote to you was dated on the 2d inst, and quite early on the following day I left the region west of Swilly Bay, in which I had been staying, intending on*my return to it from my present journey to make up for the briefness of my sojourn by prolonging the time of my visit to a considerable while. My design in this epistle is to make you acquainted with such things as may have come under my view since I last addressed you. I write in haste, and I will try to be as brief as I conveniently can. When leaving the abode (once my home) in which I had been tarrying, in the County of Donegal, the idea uppermost in my mind was to go to Dublin, to be present at the meeting of the Irish Assembly of the Presbyterian Church, but on reaching Derry, and on making some inquiries there, I was led to conclude to pass to Scotland. I had lately been in Dublin, and I felt but little desirous of returning so soon ; and in Derry I found a boat, with her steam up, just ready to sail for Glasgow. Our voyage across the- North Channel, the portion of sea separating the North of Ireland and West of Scotland, was pleasant ; and, after witnessing such an array of beacon-lights, along the shores of that peninsula in Ayrshire named Can- tire and of the isles of Arran and Bute, as can scarcely be seen anywhere else in the world, we -found ourselves, on the next morning, in the spacious Firth of Clyde. Soon we reached Greenock, where we lay several hours, landing a number of passengers and discharging a portion of our cargo. During this time I was permitted to make an in spection of a part of the town ; but, as the morning was wet and chilly, and I was afraid to be left, did not long absent AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 233 myself from the vessel. You cannot expect me, in these circumstances, to say more of the place than what almost everybody, who knows anything of it, already knows. It is a comparatively modern town in Renfrewshire ; has exten sive and excellent quays and docks, an extensive trade, and several good buildings ; is generally well built ; and contains a population of nearly forty thousand persons. Also, it is connected by railroad with Glasgow. Besides, it is cele brated as the birth-place of Watt, the improver, or, I might say, the inventor, of the steam-engine, who was the son of a tradesman of Greenock, having been born there in 1736. It only remains that I remark that, though most of the streets are on a dead level, a part of the town stands on the side of a steep eminence. At length, leaving Greenock, we proceeded on our way up the noble bay. Soon Dumbarton Castle, — a fortress of such great antiquity that it is on good grounds thought to have been a Roman station, standing on an isolated rock in the water, (the town of Dumbarton lying behind it,) a castle greatly celebrated in Scottish history, — was in view. Then the bay, after a short while, became narrow, and soon we were in the River Clyde. Thenceforward our boat ad vanced slowly on account of the confined character of the stream which though deep is quite narrow ; and of which I would say that it has banks the most verdant and lovely that can be pictured by human imagination. Then Glas gow, with its famed Green which lies toward the lower part of the city, came in view. And then, in a brief time, our steamer was lying with her side to the Broomielaw, a wide street built only on one of its sides and extending far along the river. I only stopped in Glasgow a brief time till, having put myself aboard a railroad train, I was on my way for this city. There are two rival railways connecting Glasgow and Edinburgh. The train, on the one by which I sought con veyance, passing through a country beautiful, picturesque, highly improved, but by no means naturally very fertile, brought me, in a little more than two hours, in sight of Edinburgh Castle, and, in a few minutes afterwards, into the great railroad depot in the deep valley between the Old and New Towns of Edinburgh. On stepping out of the cars, the traveler has to ascend by very long stairway's before he 19* 234 TRAVELS IN FRANCE reaches the level of the adjacent streets. When I had ascended these, I found myself standing in Prince's Street in the New Town, the noblest street in the city. The day had become fine and the air genial ; and the sight which I now witnessed surpassed anything I have ever seen in any other city, except the Champs Elysees in Paris, which may somewhat surpass it in beauty and certainly surpass^ it in grandeur, but which is not at all its equal in picturesqueness. Even Trafalgar Square in London, and the prospect from Carlile Bridge in Dublin, are inferior to it. The fact is, that to .stop in one of the fine houses around me seemed like going to board in one of the palaces of fairy-land. Upon looking around, the sign of a Temperance Hotel close by the depot attracted my attention, and, having entered, I was soon fixed in comfortable quarters and with moderate charges. You will no doubt expect me to explain to you how I have passed my time, and what are the things which I have seen, that I think most worthy of notice, since my arrival in this city. How to meet your expectation I scarcely know. I will endeavor, however, to give you, though I can promise to do this just now only in part, the desired information. I am now sitting in a room in the southern extremity of the new or northern division of Edinburgh, (No. 3 South St. Andrew Street,) near the noble monument to Sir Walter Scott, and with the backs of the precipitously high houses on High Street, in that part of the city called the Old Town, full in view. From this point let me attempt to give you a general idea of the site of Edinburgh, of some of its main streets, and of its general appearance. Behind me, to the north, is the New Town on a not very lofty ridge that gradu ally sinks, on its north side, to the shore of the Frith of Forth, which is distant a mile and a half. Before me, to the south, is the Old Town standing on two ridges, one of which, rising from about one hundred to about three hundred and fifty feet in height, is alone visible ; the other, behind it, be ing considerably lower. On the lofty western extremity of the middle ridge stands the Castle, the loftiest and most striking object in view. Prince's Street in the New Town, one of the noblest in the world, runs, in a direction ap proaching to east and west, along the southern edge of the ridge on which it stands ; one Side alone of it being built, AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 235 and the other side opening on the beautifully adorned walks and shady grass-plots of a ravine, — the same ravine or val ley in which I said above I found myself on my arrival- from Glasgow. When this ravine has been crossed, there are a steep street in one place, and in another place a very wide staircase of stone, perhaps the longest staircase in the world ; and by either one of these ways the ascent is made to High Street, the street running east and west along the middle and highest one of the three ridges that I have spoken of. This street extends from Holyrood Palace on the east, the lower part of it being called Cannongate Street, to the Castle on the west ; and, throughout its entire length, it is exceed ingly steep. We thus have two streets running partly par allel to each other, east and west, the one the most import ant street in the New Town and the other in the Old ; and from these two leading thoroughfares it is easy for the stran ger to make his way to any part of the city. The ravine between the New and Old Towns, (the same ravine spoken of just above,) is, I would judge, about one hundred yards wide, and has, in one part, a number of railroad depots which are reached through tunnels, and, in the other part, is most tastefully and picturesquely laid out in flower-gardens, grass-plots, and little groves, with graveled walks, for pro menading, between. It is also crossed by a bridge, and, at a considerable distance from this, by a tunneled earthen mound. Another ravine, which one lies between those two ridges on which the Old Town is built, contains a deep-down street named Cowgate Street, and is spanned by a bridge that crosses high above said street at right angles with it. In addition to these things, I would mention the various open spaces by which this capital is, at once, ventilated and adorned, as St. Andrew's and Charlotte Squares in the New Town, George's Square in the southern part of the city, the Royal Park beyond Holyrood House, the beautiful grounds, (of which I have already spoken,) in the yawning chasm be tween the Old and New Towns, the noble octagon named Moray Place, and the small square called Parliament Square. Nor ought Calton Hill, when speaking of the open spaces in Edinburgh, to be passed by, rearing its monument-crowned head over the New Town, Leith, and the waters of the Forth. As to the convenience, commerce, manufactures, society, 236 TRAVELS IN FRANCE and population, I would drop to you an observation or two. Once no city, almost, was more inconvenient than this ; but this long-complained-of infelicity has been completely reme died. It is particularly well lighted, while a very abundant supply of water is brought eight miles from the Pentland Hills on the southwest. Compared with Glasgow, this city can scarcely be considered a seat of commerce or manufac tures ; country gentlemen, professional men, and men ad dicted to the pursuits of literature or science, forming, in lieu of enterprising and successful merchants, the leading class. Yet if Leith be taken along with it, (and the two, at one point of contact, are now built into one,) it is not defi cient in these points of view. As to the society of the place, it has for a long time been unequaled in some respects, when the place's size is taken into view. In confirmation of this, it is only needful to name some of those who, in their day, gave character and bias to it, to wit: Hume, the historian; Ferguson, the moral philosopher and historian; Karnes, the philosopher and eminent lawyer ; Gilbert Stuart, the histo rian ; Adam Smith, the moral philosopher and political economist; Cullen, the physician; Robertson, the historian ; Monboddo, the lawyer and learned but whimsical author; Blair, the critic and eloquent divine ; Macknight, the Greek philologist; Mackenzie, the elegant and popular writer; Dugald Stewart, the moral philosopher; and, along with these, Jeffrey, Horner, Brougham, Scott, Brown, Campbell, Thomson, and Chalmers. Surely, since " The Eye of Greece " was dimmed, no other city of equal population can enumerate such a list of great names. And surely the society in which such men moved must have received a tinc ture from their characters. And as to the amount of popu lation here, I remark that it has reached as high as it is desirable that the population of any city should ever rise. Overgrown cities are to the body politic what great wens are to the human body, overdrawing, and thus weakening, all the extremities. In them there can ordinarily be no all-per vading sympathy ; those, that dwell in the avenues that open from the opposite ends of such cities, feeling as to each other's interests as if these had nothing in common, — as if they were the interests of far disassociated provinces. A population of one hundred and sixty thousand, (the pre sent population of Edinburgh,) is sufficient for all proper AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 237 social purposes ; and, if it grow at all, it is desirable that it should grow very slowly. But it is not enough that I give you an account thus general of Edinburgh : you will expect me to go into par ticulars as to the various places in it that I have visited. About the first place to which I went, after my arrival, was the Castle. This edifice stands, at the west end of High Street, on a lofty rock that rises on three sides to several hundred feet above the surrounding ground of the town ; and on the remaining side, the side next the thoroughfare named, the approach to it is quite precipitous. When one has climbed up this antique and, (much of it,) well-built street, he comes to a spacious glacis or esplanade where the soldiers lying in the barracks of the Castle drill, morning and evening. Having passed this parade-ground, he crosses a drawbridge and is within the fortification. On each hand are frowning great guns, that would seem capable of sweep ing away any force that would attempt an open hostile ap proach. Then, — after a long advance, still up, up, — he finds himself in the heart of the stronghold and among the bar racks. One of the most curious things to me was the im mense cistern on the top of this craggy height, capable of furnishing a supply of water to a large garrison. While I was in Edinburgh, a numerous body of young Highlanders of various clans, in their national dress, was about being trained. There was also a considerable body of other in fantry, a large portion of it being made up of Irish. Seve ral times did I attend in the evenings to see these men go through their military exercises, and I must say that train ing in the British army is thoroughly attended to. It is worthy of remark that music was absent: by orders from superiors, I was told, to show the sympathy of the soldiery with their fellow-soldiers who, along with the French, have experienced, some time ago, (on the 18th ultimo,) as no doubt you have learned from the newspapers, a terrible re pulse by the Russians, in a general assault by the allied forces on Sebastopol. The Highlanders, however, played their bagpipes : I suppose because the orders did not extend to militia. Their costume is certainly very picturesque, though their bare legs and knees, (only covered by long stockings,) with the thighs only loosely covered by the lower part of the kilt, must greatly expose them to the cold 238 TRAVELS IN FRANCE in winter. In the Castle are preserved the slender remains of the old Scottish regalia which, after having been long built in one of the walls, (this having been done during the Commonwealth,) were, some years ago, accidentally dis covered. As to the history of this stronghold, it would seem that it was to the protection which it afforded that the city ori ginally owed its being. Thus Simeon of Durham, an old chronicler, who, writing about 854, first makes mention of anything in connection with Edinburgh1 ; when he speaks of Edwinesburch, (the name he gives it,) there is reason for entertaining the opinion, that he simply and merely means Edwin's Castle or Stronghold, the Edwin giving his name to this castle being a Prince of Northumberland. From the day on which it came into existence as a fortification till civil commotions and foreign wars ceased in Scotland, it is pre eminently connected with Scottish history. Its history is associated with the sway, in the Lothians, of the Saxons who held these counties till 1020 ; with Edward I. of Eng land, and with Wallace ; with Bruce, during whose struggle for Scottish independence, it was surprised by Sir Thomas Randolph, who, clambering up its south side with thirty men, — guided by a man named Francis, that had long lived in the Castle, — opened the way for the overthrow of the English garrison ; with Mary of Guise, Queen-regent, who died in it ; with Mary Queen of Scots, and her son, James I. of England, who was born in a small room in it, which is still shown to visitors ; and, lastly, with the Highlanders, and Prince Charles, who besieged it in 1745. Next, let me invite you to go with me to the old Palace of Holyrood. This stands, on an extensive level of low ground, at the very bottom of Cannongate Street, and thus on the eastern edge of the city. After crossing a middlingly handsome paved space, the visitor having passed a sentinel enters a gateway which leads into the court of the edifice, — which court is about ninety feet square and surrounded by a piazza. Around this court the edifice, which forms a quad rangle, is built. Only two sides of the quadrangle are open to the public, the other two sides being occasionally occu pied, by the Queen and her household, when passing through the city ; by the Duke of Hamilton, the hereditary keeper of the palace; by the Royal Commissioner to the Assembly of AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 239 the Church of Scotland, who nere, during the meetings of this body, holds levees and gives entertainments ; or by other influential persons. The part open to the public, however, includes what has the chief interest attached to it, to wit: first, the gallery of one hundred and fifty feet in length, con taining the portraits (some of them fanciful and some real) of the kings of Scotland, from Fergus I. (who began to reign about 503) to the present time ; and in which the sixteen peers of Scotland are elected to represent their order in the Imperial House of Lords : and, secondly, the northwest tower containing the chamber of Mary Queen of Scots, (with the remains of her crimson-damask bed,) and the closet from which Rizzio, Mary's Secretary, was dragged to be murdered, with the spot on which this tragedy was en acted. Where the unhappy Italian fell a dark stain is visi ble in the floor, and guides often assert this to have been made by his blood. No credit, However, is to be given to this story, since the present flooring was put down long after his death. But though the oft-repeated statement, that the mark in the boards of the spot was made by the currrent from his wounds, be more than apocryphal, the identity of the place with that of his assassination cannot be doubted. It was undoubtedly there that, in the beginning of the night of March 9th, 1556, the hapless David Rizzio fell, after having received no less than fifty-six dagger stabs. Perhaps there is no deed of violence recorded in history, that was more boldly planned or fiercely executed than this one. The youthful and beautiful Mary had lately been mar ried to her cousin, Lord Darnley, and was in such a situation as promised an heir to the throne. But, though, until after this time, guiltless, she was thoughtless and imprudent, and thus excited her husband's jealousy. As his friends, and to avenge his supposed wrong, on the occasion named, Morton, Lord Ruthven, and Lord Lindsay, with five hundred men, seized the palace ; Morton, with eighty men, bursting into the Queen's apartments while she, with Darnley aud the Countess of Argyle, sat at supper. Then the favorite was sought out and found, and (Darnley meanwhile holding his screaming wife) fiercely butchered by innumerable daggers ; the assassins even stabbing each other in their furious efforts to strike their victim. Having looked intently more than once at the scene of this violence, and having wandered, 240 TRAVELS IN FRANCE again and again, through all the various places and rooms to which the stranger has access, I made my way to that corner of the building where are the crumbling and roofless royal chapel, and the vault of several of the kings. Of this chapel the only remains now in existence are the ruined walls and brokeh pillars, with the east window, (though di lapidated,) still in some degree of preservation; all being more or less covered with ivy. In one corner of it is the vault of the kings, just spoken of; it being also sunk into total decay and ruin. In this place of sepulture had been deposited, with all funereal pomp, the bodies of David II. , James IL, Arthur, James V, Magdalene, (the Queen of James V.,) and Arthur of Albany, the Lord Darnley; but a frantic mob, in the time of the Commonwealth, dragged forth their bones to be buried elsewhere. Subse quently, however, the desecrated relics, which the vile con course had carried away, were brought back, and again en tombed in this vault. On standing over it, I could scarcely bring myself to realize that I was bending over the moulder ing bones and the dust of kings and queens, personages who, in their day, had received the homage, at once, of the hum ble and the great. Having spent a considerable time amid the tombs of the chapel, for it contains not merely the royal vault, but also its floor is covered with gravestones, (beneath which innumerable courtiers rest,) I returned below to the court enclosed by the quadrangle of the palace ; through it, passing out to take a view of the exterior. With respect to this part, I would merely remark as to two things that specially attracted my notice. Strange to say, the magnifi cent edifice is entirely cellarless, a circumstance that is said to render it damp and unhealthy. Also, when outside, I could not help admiring the perfection with which the care fully hewn stones of the walls have been made by the ma sons, with great skill in their art, to fit into each other. My curiosity as to the palace itself being now gratified, I proceeded to the inspection of some of the surrounding objects of interest. First, I directed my steps to the pretty little farmhouse-like dairy in which, nearly three hundred years ago, the Queen of Scots used to amuse herself with churning milk and making butter ; a building of about the size of an ordinary country school-house in America. Next, I directed my steps to Queen Mary's Garden, (at one of the AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 241 angles of the palace,) a pretty old-fashioned garden of, I would judge, three-quarters of an acre in extent, adorned with a great variety of flowers, and having some fruit-trees. Not far from the gate stands, in this garden, Mary's sundial, the most curious object, in the line of dialing, that I have ever seen. Instead of either a horizontal or vertical plate, it consists of sections of hollow spheres, set horizontally around a perpendicular axis ; the concavities in these spheres facing outward in all directions, so that the sun, as he jour neys around the sky, successively causes a shadow in each concavity, thus indicating the various fragments of the day, as one after another they arise. With respect to the history of this residence of the Scot tish kings, I remark that the first beginning of said residence was an abbey, founded in 1128 by David I., with which was connected a royal cemetery. Of this abbey, I believe that the only fragment now remaining is the royal chapel spoken of above ; it having originally been the chapel of the abbey. In 1528 the building thus reared was enlarged by James V., who erected the tower of the northwest corner of the present edifice, still standing, containing Queen Mary's apartments ; and, having made this addition to it, this monarch converted it from a religious house into a palace. In the reign of Charles II., in 1671, most ofthe old edifice was taken down and the present one erected ; as to which I observe that, since that time, it has undergone no material change. I would add with respect to this palace, that it was inhabited by all the kings of Scotland from James V. until the thrones of England and Scotland became united in one person ; and that, since that event, it has been, during short periods, the abode of Charles I., Charles IL, and James II. Also, since, among others, it has been occupied by Prince Charles, (in 1745,) by the Bourbon Princes after the first French revo lution, by George IV., by the daughter of Louis XVI. , who, with her husband, the Due d'Angouleme, lived in it after , the revolution of 1830, and by the present Queen, Victoria, when traveling to the Highlands, who, however, never spends more than a night at a time in it. In connection with what I have said>of the Palace of Ho lyrood, I would remark that, though it is considerably more than three hundred years since it first became a royal resi dence, no less than four or five palaces preceded it, in the 20 242 TRAVELS IN FRANCE long history of the Scottish kings. Thus Scottish royalty had its first residence in Argyleshire. Then it established itself at Scone, (two miles and a quarter to the north of Perth,) where was that stone, now in Westminster Abbey, on which the ancient kings used to be crowned. Then it es tablished itself at Forres, (ten miles W.S.W. of Elgin,) on a blasted heath; near to which, according to Shakspeare, Mac beth first met "the weird sisters " whose prophecy put him on the murder of King Duncan. Then we find David I., the founder of Holyrood, — I mean as an abbey, and not as a palace, — having his royal abode at Inverk.eithing, ten miles to the W.S.W. of Edinburgh. Next, we find James V. making Stirling Castle his palace. And it was only after all these places, (and, if I mistake not, one or two others also,) had been successively inhabited by the Scottish mon- archs, that they finally permanently fixed themselves at Edinburgh in Holyrood. Now let me take you along with me to the so-called Par liament House. This building stands on Parliament Place, a small square through which High Street, the street running from the Castle to Holyrood Palace, passes. The old Par-. liament House remained in a respectable state of preserva tion till 1824, in which year it was mostly destroyed by fire. A part, however, was preserved ; and it was incorporated with the new edifice which was put up. Belonging to the; part preserved is the old Parliament Hall, with oaken roof, built in 1632. In the cellar part of the Parliament House are the rooms of the Advocates' Library, a library contain ing nearly one hundred and fifty thousand printed volumes, and two thousand manuscripts ; and which is not only large and skillfully selected, but which also, as I can testify, (hav ing spent parts of two rainy days in it,) is conducted on the most generous and liberal principles. In relation to this building, I remark, that the transition from the original use to the present was made as little violent as possible ; judges, advocates, and courts of justice, being the things substituted for the assemblages of the ancient Estates of the kingdom. * I would remark in relation to it, that there are few places on our globe, in which free popular assemblies invested with rule have sat, in reference to which it could be said that in them an amount of violent legislation has been had recourse to, equal to what has . been either originated or adopted on AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 243 this spot. The fact is, the Estates of North Britain, while in existence, were much more addicted to violent and tyran nical rule than the Parliaments of England or Ireland, vio lent and tyrannical though both of these very often were, especially that of the latter country. Witness the laws of the Scottish Legislature against the Covenanters. Well might Wodrow, (vol. iv. p. 364,) record of it, — when met in 1686, — as an extraordinary thing, that it had spoken of the members having consciences ; a thing, he tells us, that had not been done in the Parliament House for a quarter of a century before. Yet, with all this, as ^every one must ac knowledge who is at all acquainted with the history of this country, very many were the great, good, and patriotic men who, at various times, occupied seats in the Estates of Scot land. I will now walk around with you to the University. This was one of the first places to which I was taken after going to Edinburgh, and subsequently I paid it a short visit a second time. It is situated on a quiet, good-looking old street. From this one enters a spacious gateway,, when he finds himself in a handsome and spacious cfurt, around the four sides of which the admirably built walls of this cele brated institution of learning rise. It is a large, tasteful, and imposing edifice of quite modern construction. The winter months, from the beginning of November till the be ginning of May, are the period during which the classes are assembled ; the summer months, on the part o'f the students, being appropriated chiefly to relaxation and private study. Thus, while I was in Edinburgh, scarcely a student was to be seen. And, even in the winter months, students are never present in the University except at the hours at which the classes meet to which they respectively belong. This arises from the fact that they do not board in the buildings con nected with it, but in rented rooms throughout the city. I need scarcely say that it has a fine library and museum, and that among its professors have been several of the most cele brated men, in their respective departments, that have ever lived. It was first founded in 1582, being of later origin than any one of the three other Scottish universities, St. Andrew's, Glasgow, and Aberdeen; and originally it had barely one professor and a proportionally small number of students, though the number of professors has now come to 244 TRAVELS IN FRANCE amount to thirty-one, while the students are between sixteen hundred and seventeen hundred. Since I came hither I have also visited the Assembly Hall, to which I invite you to go with me ; (in which the General Assembly of the Church of Scotland holds its meet ings ;) not a large building, but one of the most convenient and prettiest buildings, especially internally, that I have anywhere looked at. It was erected, I was told, about 1843. It stands on High Street, at some distance below the piece of ground on which the Highlanders raised their battery, when investing the jDastle, in 1745. Here a street diverges from High Street at an acute angle, and in this angle it has been built. I would mention that the ground is very steep, and that much that is peculiar in the structure of the build ing is owing to the architect's making his plan to conform to the character of the site. The entrance, which is in front, faces the point where the streets, that I have spoken of, part. Entering here, I found myself in the outer vestibule, which is covered by the spire. Then I entered the inner vestibule, in which are found such conveniences as are usually to be met with in thqpback yard of a church, the hall not having any yard connected with it. Then, having passed through another door, I found myself on the main basement floor of the building, which floor is occupied by an aisle with com mittee-rooms on each side. Then, I reached an apartment at the remote end of the edifice, in which stairs go up into the lobby leading into the main body of the house. As to the main body of the house, I observe that it is divided into three parts, to wit : the platform on which the Royal Commissioner who represents the sovereign has his seat, the floor, and the gallery. On the platform, which is at the end of the main body of the house, and is quite spacious, are seats behind and on either hand of the representative of the sovereign, to which he admits, by ticket, such ladies of quality as may seek admission. The floor is divided, first, into the space occupied in common by the members of the Assembly, by the professional advocates, and by the newspaper reporters, this space taking up about one-half the floor ; and, secondly, into the space behind this, appropriated to such clergymen as may be present who have not been elected to seats in the Assembly. With respect to this latter space, I need not add anything. But with respect to the former space, — that AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 245 occupied by the members and the professional advocates, — I would observe that it is parted into three blocks of seats ; the seats in the two blocks along the walls being like long sofas running lengthwise, and the seats in the block between the two aisles resembling low-backed pews, and running crosswise. In the seats extending lengthwise, the silent members sit, while those members who have prepared them selves to mingle in debate, and the advocates, as also the news paper reporters, occupy the cross-seats, leaving spoken of the Royal Commissioner's platform and of the floor, it now only remains that I say a word of the gallery. As to it, all that is peculiar is that it is partitioned into two compart ments, one being allotted to students of theology, and the other to the accommodation of the general public. With respect to the meetings of the General Assembly of the Scottish Established Church, of which this hall is the scene, I would remark that they usually are held in May, and that the debates at these meetings are often distin guished by ability as great as is exhibited in debates in Parliament. I will conclude this letter with notices of the house of Knox, the celebrated reformer, and of the far-known Grass- Market. Knox's house stands on the steep of the hill in Cannongate Street. About its external appearance there is not anything remarkable, except its antique look ; and, with respect to the point of antiquity, it cannot compare with some others, and especially with a house farther down the street, said to be the oldest in the city ; (as old as the year of our Lord 1124, this being the date inscribed on it;) one which the passing traveler may always easily recognize, by the deer's neck, and head with two antlers, which, along with the above date, it has marked on its wall, together with the inscription, "Veri tas vincit." Yet, as Knox died in 1572, his dwelling must be very old. From a window in the second story, it having been taken out on such occasions, he used to preach to the people in the street ; which window is still pretty much as it was when he spoke from it. Just below the house, and built into it, is a new church, called Knox's Church, raised to com memorate the connection of the reformer with the locality. Yes, in that old house for many years lived, and in it died, perhaps the boldest man that the Protestant Reformation 20* 246 TRAVELS IN FRANCE called forth, the man upon whom the Earl of Morton, Re gent of Scotland, truthfully pronounced, while standing over his freshly-made grave, the noble eulogium, " There lies he who never feared the face of man, who hath often been threat ened with dag and dagger, but yet hath ended his days in peace and honor; for he had God's providence watching over him in an especial manner, when his life was sought." As to the Grass-Market, I spent there an hour or more, in the evening, a couple of days ago. Having gone a cer tain distance up High Street, I turned to the left and thus came to the bridge that spans a deep, narrow hollow, — as if it were a river, — in which hollow is built the far-down Cow- gate Street ; and, having crossed this bridge, I found myself, in a few minutes, in the place for which I was seeking. The Grass-Market is a very wide and level, but not very long tho roughfare, coarsely paved and built with substantial though somewhat rough-looking houses. It is, among other things, a horse-market ; and, when I was in it, it was occupied by a large assemblage of stout rustic-looking men, with a great gathering of horses ; and the examining of these animals, the trotting, the buying and selling, and the jockeying of them, seemed the sole employments. Yet there, — in the days of Scotland's terrible agony, when tyranny outraged civil and religious liberty alike, when, out of the small population then in the country, in the short period of twenty-seven years, twenty thousand persons were martyred, — no small number of the very best and noblest men belonging to this army of faithful witnesses, in behalf of what they believed right and truth, poured out their blood. On the precise spot where the place of execution formerly was, (at least ordinarily was,) in the centre of the street, a stone cross is placed in the pavement. I subscribe myself yours, &c, M. F. AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 247 NO. XXVII. Continuation of, &c. — Halls of Paintings — Midsummer Night's Dream — Monuments — Calton Hill— Old London Road— Fine Prospect— Visit to Arthur's Seat— St. An thony's Well and Chapel — View from Summit of, &c. — Prince Arthur — Excursion to Leith — Pier — Excursion to Stirling— Granton— Jnverkeithing— Kirkcaldy — Alloa— Windings of the Forth— Stirling— Church— Castle— Its Antiquity— Prospect— Field of Cambuskenneth— Wallace — Bannockburn — Bruce — Departure from Stirling — The Religious Services in Several ChurcheB — Dr. Clark— Dr. McClure — Dr. Candlish —St. Gnes's and Dr. McClatchie, ic. Edineurgh, July, 1855. I wish you to regard this epistle simply as a continuation of my letter of the 13th inst. The fact is that it is just this with a variation of date, and with the addition to this letter of some things that had not come under my view when the let ter spoken of was put into the post-office. Indeed, most of this sheet was filled immediately after the dating, (the last thing I often do to my letters,) of the epistle dispatched to you three days ago. I ought to mention that in neither letter have I paid much attention to the order of time, but, on the contrary, I have described from notes, such things as I have written about, in the order that was most convenient. I would add that, within limits which I did not feel at liberty to pass, this has been the case, less or more, in all that I have written to you since I left home. The Scottish capital has two noble marble edifices which contain exhibitions of paintings; one on Prince's Street, and the other close by it on what is called the Earthen Mound, at a brief distance in front from this street. It has so happened that the latter has been closed, for some reason or another, while I have been here; but, in the former, I spent several hours very pleasantly. The paintings, though I do not pretend to be a connoisseur in such matters, I thought very excellent. One in particular amused me very much, showing a fertility of imagination, and a felicity of execution, not easily equaled. I refer to the Midsummer Night's Dream. The imagination of the sleeper is sup posed to be very active, and before it fairies in various assumed forms are busily engaged in all sorts of fun and grotesque antics. To give such variety at once to counte nances and employments, and all in keeping with the main 248 TRAVELS IN FRANCE design of the artist, required a most exuberant invention, an invention as rich and prolific as Shakspeare's. Also, — but I will not attempt to go into details in relation to things that I am so little skilled in as I am in paintings. Suffice it to say that no one visiting this city will regret time spent in looking around these edifices. The monuments here are also well worthy of the atten tion of the stranger, this city being justly celebrated for the beauty and grandeur of erections of this class. While going around, I have viewed Sir Walter Scott's monument, Burns's, Playfair's, Dugald Stewart's, Lord Melville's, Nelson's, the national momument begun to commemorate the soldiers who fell at Waterloo, but, strange to say, left off unfinished, and that small but graceful one raised to the martyrs for political reform, who suffered in the agitations toward the close of the last century; and, in addition to these monu ments, I would mention the equestrian statue of the Duke of Wellington in the front of the edifice for the registration of the landed property of Scotland, and the colossal recumbent statue of Queen Victoria, which adorns that one of the two marble halls for the display of paintings, spoken of above as visited by me. Of these erections, though all would be worthy of a separate notice, I will only speak particularly of the monument raised by the City of Edinburgh in honor of Scott. This erection, as I believe I informed you in my pre vious letter, stands near the hotel in which I am staying. It was designed and partly built by a young man, a journeyman mason, who, in competing for the work when proposals of plans were invited, easily carried away the palm from all others. Unfortunately he died before he had completed the work on which he had entered ; which completion was accom plished four years ago. The structure stands in Brince's Street just where the finest entrance into Edinburgh becomes fully lost in the city itself; looking over on the nine and ten storied houses of High Street in the Old Town, and down on the railroad depots and ornamented grounds in the chasm that separates the Old and New Towns. Though it is ex tremely graceful, being exquisite in its proportions, it struck me, on first sight, that, for the sharp and corroding climate of Scotland, its architecture is, in some respects, too deli cate and elaborate, and its ornaments superabundant. Yet, on a closer examination, it comes to appear massy and ^ AND TnE~ BRITISH ISLANDS. 249 strong. Its style is Gothic ; the groined arches, and taper ing points or little spires, of this style being the things which first attract the spectator's attention. It contains several fine statues. In its main hall is one, in marble, of Scott himself, with his dog by his side. Of the other statues, I will particularize that of the Last Minstrel play ing on his harp, as described in "The Lay of the Last Min strel;" that ofthe stalwart gipsy of the elf-locks, Meg Mer- rilies, one of the characters in " Guy Mannering ;'' and especially that of the awkward probationer-pedagogue, Do minie Sampson, who is also portrayed so strikingly in "Guy Mannering ;" — these statues being cut in red sandstone. I will only add that the unique monument which I have b'een describing, (unique, I say, for I have never seen anything like it,) is ascended to the top by no less than between two hundred and eighty and two hundred and ninety steps, and that the prospect from this point well rewards the labor of ascension. Let me now ask you to go with me to Calton Hill, which elevated locality has been with me a favorite place of resort since I came hither. This hill is situated on the northeast of the city. Around its southern edge winds the grandest highway by which the town is entered, the highway by which persons journey traveling, otherwise than by railroad, to or from London. Around its northern edge lies a very small portion of the New Town of Edinburgh, beyond which lies Leith at a brief distance. When one has made his way up the steep ascent by which the eminence is reached, he has the finest conceivable prospect spread out before him. On one side are the town, the Castle, and Arthur's Seat; on another are Leith, the Frith of Forth, (on which Roman fleets in far-off years plied,) the shores of the Fife, and the North Sea; and on other sides the fertile and highly cultivated plains of the Lothians, with high mountains in the vague distance. After enjoying the noble prospect for some time, I walked around the various monuments with which it is crowned. There stands the national monument whose ob ject has already been referred to; (an unfinished Grecian temple modeled after the design of the Parthenon at Athens;) there stand Lord Melville's of one hundred and thirty-nine feet in height, Lord Nelson's of one hundred and eight feet in height, Dugald Stewart's, and Burns's, — 250 TRAVELS IN FRANCE . all before spoken of. I then entered a small enclosed area where, for a small fee, are shown some pieces of good statuary. I have also visited Arthur's Seat, to the east or rather E.S.E. of the city. Going down Cannongate Street, past Holyrood, and over a part of the King's Park, (a large, level, and somewhat ornamented space of land,) I found myself, after a little, close to certain precipitous rocky emi nences called the Salisbury Crags. Ascending among these by a winding path, I reached a beautiful little well from which a cup of water was given me by a small girl. From this well, which is called St. Anthony's Well, did many a religious devotee, long since mouldered to dust, drink ; and not only such devotees, but kings, queens, nobles, and courtiers, in the days of Scotia's independent royalty. No doubt, fron* it drew water, and quenched their thirst, the royal personages whose few bones and lack-lustre skulls now rest in the royal vault of the palace hard-by, and the noble ones over whose graves the passing stranger treads as he carelessly walks around that palace's desolate old chapel. To the left hand of this well, as one ascends, stands, in total desolation, a good part of the walls of an old church of restricted dimensions. This ruin was once St. Anthony's Chapel. The day was bright, beautiful, and quite warm, so that I was tempted, and to the temptation I yielded, to spend here some time ; sometimes resting on the greensward thinly adorned with litttle mountain-flowers, and sometimes slowly wandering around the neighboring crags. Fairly may I apply to myself the language of one of Scotland's most eminent poets, in relation to the same vicinity, who "Lone did I wander by each cliff and dell, Onee the loved haunts of Scotia's royal train; Or muse"d where limpid streams, once hallowed well, Or mouldering ruins, mark the sacred fane." From the neighborhood of St. Anthony's Well and Chapel, the progress to the summit of the mountain is, for one who climbs the steep on a hot day, long and circuitous. But, withal, the green, short verdure, the sparse but beautiful little mountain-flowers, and the ever-shifting variety of the scenery, easily beguile the time, and, when the top has been reached, the noble view well repays the labor that has been AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 251 undergone. From the crest of the mountain, — which is nearly seven hundred feet above its base, and, according to measurement, eight hundred and twenty-two feet above the sea, — the prospect is as grand as any other in the world. There I had pointed out to me, by an old man, the things most worthy of the notice of a stranger; and the clearness of the day favored me in getting a good view. Indeed, I was told that a day so clear seldom occurs. At my feet, in one direction, was to be seen the locality where, beside a solitary mass of granite by the wayside, James IV. is said to have planted the lion-standard of Scotland for the muster of his army immediately before its fatal march to Flodden ; while in the opposite direction, still nearer and more directly beneath me, lay the Hunter's Bog, a deep and sheltered val ley between Arthur's Seat and the Salisbury Crags, a place whose recesses had often resounded with the hunting horns ofthe old kings, and in which Prince Charles, in 1745, when about to enter Edinburgh, left his Highland host for a time, — himself, with the Dufce of Perth and Lord Elcho, descend ing to Holyrood. Then, raising my eyes and looking afar- off, was spread around me, on one hand, no inconsiderable portion of the best cultivated parts of Scotland, .filled with farmhouses and cottages, and besprinkled with the planta tions and mansions of the wealthy and titled ; and, in the midst of this fine territory, was pointed out the still distin guishable site of a Roman encampment made when the old masters of the world embraced Southern Caledonia in their empire. Then, having turned a little round and strained my eyes so as to look very far northward, I saw quite plainly the Ochills, East Lomond, and the dim form of the far-off Gram pians, these last the mountain barrier which constituted the ex treme northern limit to which the eagles of invincible Rome ever reached. Next, looking northeastward, I saw the High lands that encircle the lakes, a"nd the peaks of Ben Nevis and of Benvenue. Again, having looked toward the south, the Lammermuir Hills and the Pentland Hills, with the town of Dalkeith and with Craig Millar Castle, were visible. While, in another direction yet, the northeast and east, spread be neath me were Edinburgh and Leith, and, beyond these, the blue waters of the Forth, with the battle-fields of Preston- pans and Dunbar, lying contiguous to the waters of said Forth. And, having looked still farther off, in the same 252 TRAVELS IN FRANCE direction, I could see the North Sea, that tempestuous ex panse of water that rolls between the mouth of the Forth and the opposite entrance of the Baltic ; the sea that bore the ships of Hengist and Horsa, with their Anglo-Saxons, when voyaging to England, over which Rollo sailed, with his Norsemen, when on his way to conquer for himself a home in Normandy, and which, also, stepping over a long interval, was plowed, in the last generation, by the fleet of Nelson, going to Copenhagen. Todescribe, even in simple terms, such views, seems almost to be talking magniloquently. Having satiated my curiosity, I commenced the descent, meeting, on my way down, great numbers of both sexes and of all ages journeying for the top. On my downward course often did I sit or lie down among the short heath and grass, and, while gazing around, fill my hands with a variety of slender-stemmed and modest upland flowers, such as, in the British Islands, adorn the sides of the mountains ; flowers hardy, and of lowly, unassuming guise, and familiar from their birth with the bitter, biting blasts that in this climate, even in the more genial half of the year, often career over the uplands and hillf While thus engaged, I could not help reverting to the rides that I have frequently taken, at the same season, over the Alleghanies ; contrasting the thick woods, and flaunting flowers, (especially innumerable orange-lilies,) that in some places profusely cover them, with the short heath, and flowers scarcely peeping above their mother earth, spread around my seat or my couch. And, here, I ought not to omit the mention of a small lake that lies not far from the base of that side of Arthur's Seat away from the city. This pool contributes much to the beauty of the landscape. I will only further add, in rela tion to Arthur's Seat or my excursion to it, that it is so named, it is affirmed, from the celebrated old British hero, (of the sixth century,) Arthur,*originally prince of a power ful British tribe to the north of the Severn, (name* the Silures,) and subsequently commander-in-chief of all the Britons. He, we are told, in his wars with the Saxons, gave those invaders hard-by a severe defeat, and that, while here on this military enterprise, he ascended to the summit of this high hill, and from it took a view of the surrounding country. To commemorate the locality of the defeat spoken of, and the presence, on the summit of the mountain, of their AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 253 favorite leader, the old British of the Lothians gave the name. Next, I will ask you to accompany me on an excursion to Leith, the seaport of Edinburgh. Indeed, that town, though anciently, and still municipally, distinct from Edinburgh, is now in fact incorporated with it, the two being built so as to interlock. Entering an omnibus near my hotel, I was soon carried, along the continuously built road called the Leith Walk, into the very heart of Leith. It is a place of great business for its size, the population being about thirty thousand. The town is mostly well built, and some of its churches have a very handsome appearance. Among the things about it that most interested me were the docks, two wet, and three dry ; all very spacious, especially the former, which have connected with them a basin of ten acres in ex tent. Also, I viewed with interest the large levels extend ing on either side of the town. I also looked with much attention at the stone-pier, an exceedingly noble erection. This pier extends, with a graceful bend, far out into the deep waters of the Forth, meeting and breaking its surges as they roll in. It is, however, hard to be kept in repair on account of the water making its way through the narrow crevices between the massive cut-stones that constitute its sides, and, in this manner, sapping from beneath them their clayey sup port. Indeed, while I was on the mole, men were employed in raising, by means of machinery, these heavy masses of rock for the repair of damages ; and the facility with which they were raised and replaced was truly admirable. While walking to and fro in this place, I had for a moment under consideration the going on a tour, on a small scale, in the Highlands. Falling into the company of a gentleman who was about to go on such a tour, I had almost made up my mind to consent to go along with him, but remembering how much of my life has been spent among mountains nearly or altogether as grand as any in the Highlands, and feeling that such a tour would protract my stay in Scotland beyond a mere visit to it, which was all I intended in coming hither, I concluded to deny myself the pleasure of such a journey. Having spent some part of a day in sauntering about the town, and in looking at the battery out in the water beyond the pier, and at other things, I concluded to return to my hotel in Edinburgh. 21 254 TRAVELS IN FRANCE While here I have been on an excursion of much more interest than that to Leith, having been lately on to the ancient Borough of Stirling This place, which contains a population of about twelve thousand, stands on the River Forth about thirty miles W.N.W. of this city. Entering, very early in the morning, the railroad cars which run to Granton, — a steamboat harbor on the Forth a short distance above Leith, and which is distant about three miles from Edinburgh, — I soon found myself on the shore of the noble arm of the sea on which I was seeking to embark. At Granton I stopped but a brief time. Indeed, it is not a town but a mere harbor, brought into importance by sandstone quarries in the neighborhood, and especially by the sailing to and from it of the London steampaekets. Sailing, on a pleasure excursion, from this place, (with a party, all of it being made up of persons traveling for recreation and en joyment,) we passed over to the very ancient Inverkeithing in Fife, a beautiful county, and inhabited by a noble race of men ; yet, such is the effect of old associations that, remem bering the boast of the Highlanders,— after their defeat of the Fifeshire men at Kilsythe, in 1645, — that every stroke of their broadswords had cut an ell of breeks, I could scarcely help particularly inspecting the legs of the passengers com ing aboard to see whether their pantaloons were not, in our day as of old, wider than other people's. We then steamed down to Kirkcaldy, the birth-place of Adam Smith. We next made our way to Queensferry, and so, passing on, reached Alloa, (with a population of between six and seven thou sand,) at the head of the Frith and about twenty-five miles from Edinburgh. Here we came into the River Forth, a river of whose tortuousness you may judge when I tell you that in a course of twenty-six miles it only makes an advance of eight or nine in a straight line. These windings are called the links of the Forth, and are greatly celebrated* for their quiet beauty. And they deserve to be as highly apr plauded for their fertility and rich pasturage as for their beauty; affording an uninterrupted succession of as fine farms as are to be met with anywhere on earth. About a mile or a mile and a half below Stirling the passengers were passed into a couple of large boats partly propelled by oars and partly pulled by horses. The first place to which I wended my way, on setting foot AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 255 on the bank of the river, was the Castle. The town stands on the southeast declivity of a steep hill, and on the summit of this hill is situated the edifice referred to. I made my way to it by the main street which goes directly up to it; a street roughly paved, of abrupt ascent, and wearing the aspect of the hand of modern improvement operating on a long gone-by antiquity. Before reaching the Castle, how ever, I fell in with a funeral, at which there were several clergymen present, and, following it, soon found myself in a graveyard. Without any ceremony whatever, the corpse was entombed; and then, finding the doors of the church, which is close by the graveyard, open, — that church in which James VI. was crowned, John Knox preaching his corona tion sermon, — I directed my steps toward it. This edifice, which is divided into two parts, was originally the property of one of the orders of the Romish Church, but, at the Refor mation, was converted into a Protestant place of worship ; and the old Gothic ornaments, by which it is distinguished, do not fail still to indicate the purpose for which it was origi nally designed. Just above this ancient building stands the Castle, the object in quest of which I had set out when leav ing the landing at the river. I therefore now ascended to it at once. This stronghold is very ancient, so that on its origin neither history nor tradition sheds any light : it is so old, in deed, that old records affirm that Arthur, that hero of the Old British, already spoken of in this letter, who died in 542, made it, on a certain occasion, the scene of the celebrated festivities of the Round Table. It stands on the very edge of the high hill on which, I have told you, Stirling is built. The interior I found occupied as barracks by soldiers; some of them Highlanders, but most of them aliens to the tartan. I was struck, on looking around, with the attention to neat ness which was everywhere manifest. Wherever, within the walls, there was a spot of ground that could be ornamented with flowers, it was carefully set out with the most beautiful of these after the manner of the pleasaunces that, in the middle ages, adorned the castled homes of the feudal barons. The flower-plots, in truth, now kept up there, date back, no doubt, to the earliest period of Scottish history when feudal usages prevailed everywhere throughout the Lowlands. Such things, in contrast with the frowning pieces of artillery around the bastions, look doubly beautiful. On one side, the 256 TRAVELS IN FRANCE one away from the town, and which is almost perpendicular, I looked, down on the windings of the Forth, as they water, as far as eye can reach, one of the most beautiful valleys that man can look upon. From the other side is visible the field of Bannockburn. And this leads me to remark that, from this Castle, no less than twelve battle-fields, on which great battles were fought, can be reckoned up. Also, from it one has a much more distinct view of the Grampians, and some other high mountains of Scotland, than he can obtain even from Arthur's Seat on the most unclouded day. In addition to what I have said, I would add that interest attaches to this edifice from the facts that once it was a residence of James V., who dwelt in a palace within its walls, (which palace still stands, being used for barracks,) and that there once parliaments assembled, — the old Parliament House being also occupied as barracks. Besides, in it, for a while, the ill-starred Queen of Scots had her residence. I now left the Castle to pass over, as rapidly as possible, such other things as I desired to inspect. Let me lead you to a valley lying to the northwest of the borough, where are situated the remains of Cambusken- neth Abbey. In this valley, and at the wooden bridge which here, at one mile above the present bridge, once spanned the Forth, was fought, in 1297, the battle of Cam- buskenneth, so famous in the annals of Scottish patriotism. In this engagement Sir William Wallace, at the head of a vastly inferior force, totally defeated the English forces op posed to him, — forty thousand men either in the field, or within striking distance, — under Earl Warenne, the English Governor of Scotland ; compelling them to fly, with great slaughter, to England. The story is still told there, how Wallace, knowing that the river was unfordable, on account of a flood, had the bridge set on fire when one-half of the hostile army was over, and while a part of the remaining half was eagerly crowding to follow across, and how, in these circumstances, he succeeded in driving thousands of the mailed throng wildly to precipitate themselves into the roar ing stream. This great victory allowed Scotland to breathe freely for a few months; but, in the summer of the very next year, 1298, the Scotch in their turn, under Cumyn, (the Grand Steward of the realm,) and Sir William Wallace, were totally defeated by Edward I. of England, at Falkirk, about AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 257 ten miles E. S.E. of Stirling. On this result turning up, Wallace retreated to the vicinity of his former field of vic tory; burning the town, before abandoning it, for the same reasons that the Russians burned Moscow. Ground sancti fied by the great Scottish patriot, and hero's great victory, and subsequently by the desperate resolution of his retreat, is holy ground. Let me now invite you to come with me again to the town ; and, having passed through it to its southern edge, let us walk out into the country about two miles and a half, where we will find soil that, like the field of Cambusken- neth, has been also watered by the blood of patriots in the olden time. I speak ofthe field of Bannockburn, on which, in June, 1314, eleven years after the execution of Wallace, Robert Bruce defeated Edward II. of England. However, in connection with this memorable battle-field, all is now changed. The little stream of the Bannock flows through quiet grain-fields. The morass, which once proved so fatal to the English cavalry, has been turned into verdant meadow. Not even a mound, such as still marks, on the plains of Troy, where, with his companions, the bravest of the Greeks sleeps, yea, more, not even the vestige of a soldier's grave, distin guishes the spot where the dead, English, Welsh, and Irish, on the one side, and Scotch, on the other, were heaped into their deep-dug bloody resting-places. And, where brave knights, at the head of iron-clad followers, engaged in deadly melee, are to be met, at the present time, only the woolen weavers of Bannockburn village. But, changed though the aspect of the landscape may be, historical associations gather around it, which all lovers of freedom will cherish till time shall end. On this ground, thirty thousand Scotchmen,- in defence of their nationality, which was about being violently, and therefore wrongfully, wrested from them, defeated nearly one hundred thousand English, with the loss on the side of the victors, it is said, of only four thousand men, while the enemy lost fifty thousand. The Scottish leader having the choice of the ground, disposed his soldiers so that they might be protected by the morass already alluded to, and. somewhat by the hollow of the Bannock ; and then, where at any other point the heavy mass of English cavalry might find ground suitable for charging, he dug deep and wide pits having their mouths overlaid, and thus masked, with turf 21* 258 TRAVELS IN FRANCE supported by brushwood. Near by where his army was drawn up is Gillies Hill, a considerable elevation, and aback of it he put the women and camp-followers. The Scotch, before engaging, went, in the exercise of devotion, to their knees, and, while they were thus employed, the English archers began -the battle ; but they were soon ridden down by Bruce's cavalry. Upon this, Edward's thirty thousand horse galloped, in heavy masses, upon their formidable enemy. But, instead of charging on their foe, and over whelming them with the dreadful shock, these galloped on each other into the morass and the pitfalls, so that broken ranks and the most dreadful disorder ensued. Next, the in fantry of King Edward advanced, but, Bruce's men meetiug them, sword to sword, and pike to pike, they were unable to make any impression. Disheartened, in confusion, and at disadvantage, the English still continued to fight with that obstinate valor which has always characterized them, when the traitor who, for gold, had sold Wallace, being in the train of the English king, fell, (or some one who was mistaken for him,) and the news that the hated arch-betrayer was dead, being circulated along the lines of Bruce's army, a shout of triumph, as the report spread, was raised, grow ing louder and louder, as more had the information commu nicated to them, till, at length, the welkin was ringing with simultaneous outcries of mingled revenge and exultation from nearly thirty thousand throats. The women, and fol lowers ofthe army, hearing, from behind the hill, these long- continued exultant clamors, — which they interpreted as the expressions, on the part of their countrymen, of victory, — fastening handkerchiefs and petticoats on poles, rushed, with responding vociferations of joy, to and over the summit be hind which they had been concealed. The English forces, already severely handled, conceiving this to be a second army that was approaching, and concluding that its arrival on the field was what had led to the jubilant shouts on the part ofthe Scotch soldiers, -which shouts had not yet ceased, immediately paused in their onsets, then gave back, and, in a brief time, fell into irremediable confusion. Such, in con nection with an inspection of the field, was the account that I gathered up of this bloody battle ; the greatest, most san guinary, and most decisive which had been fought, in any part of the world, for ages. And perhaps this account, AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 259 which suits well to the ground and to the circumstances of the transaction, may be as nearly correct as if I had bor rowed it from the written pages of the past. After viewing the battle-field of Bannockburn, I made my way to the depot of the railroad connecting Stirling with Edinburgh, and was soon leaving behind me the former city, the scene and centre of so many memorable transactions in the story of the Scotland of by-gone days ; the place where Earl Douglas was murdered by James II. ; where the Earl of Lennox with his sons, and with his son-in-law, Murdoch, Duke of Albany, was beheaded in 1424; where James Y, as noticed above, resided ; where Mary Queen of Scots was crowned, and for a time resided ; where James VI. (after wards James I. of England) was baptized and crowned; where Archbishop Hamilton was hung on a scaffold in canonicals ; and where John Knox preached ; — not stop ping to mention circumstantially again that near to it Wal lace and Bruce triumphed ; — I say, soon was I leaving be hind me the ancient Borough of Stirling, whose history is associated with so many old chronicled events, and on my way for my hotel in Edinburgh. And, after a journey through a pleasant and interesting country, (in which is situated Falkirk, famous for its two great battles,) I was, before it was quite dark, again in that hotel. I will conclude this letter with some account of the man ner in which, while here, I have spent my Sabbaths. On the first Sabbath of my being in this city I went to the church in which the celebrated Free Church minister, Dr. Candlish, preaches, a church lying toward the west end of Prince's Street. The edifice is neat, though small for a place with a population so large as Edinburgh contains ; being not near so large as most of the churches in Philadel phia or new York. The congregation, however, which has a most respectable appearance, was as large as could be ad mitted within the walls. The pastor being absent at the Irish General Assembly, the pulpit was occupied by a young man, who delivered, (without reading,) in a plain way, and without any oratorical display, a very sensible and excellent discourse, mainly addressed to the impenitent portion ofthe congregation. In the afternoon I attended worship in the Assembly Hall belonging to the Established Church. Here preached Dr. Clark, of St. Andrew's, who gave us, from a manuscript, an able discourse, and, in my judgment, one 260 TRAVELS IN FRANCE well adapted to be useful. Subsequent to my attendance in these places of worship, I went in the evening to hear Dr. McCrie,. — son to the biographer of John Knox, — who preached in a low, irregular wooden building, but of very great capaciousness, lying in the suburbs on the road that leads out to Granton. The doctor is in the prime of life and quite corpulent. He has a good voice and speaks well. He read us, (I ought to observe that he reads with very little restriction of the eye to the paper,) a very carefully prepared discourse on the criminality and evils of religious persecution ; which discourse was peculiarly well suited to arouse the sensibilities of a Protestant community. On yesterday, — my second Sabbath in Edinburgh, — I went again, in the morning, to Dr. Candlish's Church, with the view to hear him, having understood that he had re turned from Dublin. He gave us, from manuscript, a ser mon at once well composed and rich in evangelical truth. Yet, though a good speaker, and capable of keeping up an unremitted attention on the part of his auditors, he has no pretensions whatever to be considered an orator. In the afternoon, I worshiped in Parliament Square, in what is called the High Church, or St. Giles's, the most ancient church in the city ; said, indeed, to have been founded as early as 900, and which was erected into a collegiate church as early as 1466. The edifice, which is built after the cathe dral style, is in the figure of a cross, and from its centre rises a square tower surmounted by slender arches and support ing a lofty spire, this tower being in the form of an imperial crown. Internally St. Giles's is now divided, — though this was not the case at the Reformation, — into three compart ments, each of which is used as a place of worship by a dis tinct congregation. I may here remark that it was in this church that John Knox, in his day, thundered forth the grand truths of Protestant Christianity ; it was in it that the Protestant nobility, in 1560, returned thanks for the retire ment of the French ; and it was in it*(in what is now the southern compartment,)' that, when the Earl of Murray, the good regent, had been assassinated, his funeral was held, Knox preaching on the occasion. I attended worship in the main compartment. The first thing that struck me on sitting down, was the inconvenience of the high-backed pews, in which the sitter is fairly hidden from view ; pews bearing AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 261 some resemblance to those cities of the children of the Ana- kims, of which Holy Writ tells us, — cities "great and fenced up to heaven." Then I looked back to the part of the gallery where in most city churches the organ and choir are placed ; and, instead of these, was to be seen a large pew which is, no doubt, intended to be the seat of dignity. * Knox was accus tomed to call the organ "a kist o' whistles," and, of course, using it in divine worship was, in his view, whistling the praises of God. Either respect for the opinions of the old reformer in the congregation to which he preached, or a par ticipation in his opinions on the part of its present members, has, up to the present time, continued to exclude from this church all instrumental accompaniment ; which, however, is not anything more than is the state of matters, as it re spects this point, in European Presbyterian churches gene rally. Soon the minister, Dr. McClatchie, in his black silk Geneva gown, came forth from his closet behind the pulpit, and took his seat. Both his addresses to the Throne of Grace, and the sermon that he delivered, were beautiful, appropriate, and impressive. He is certainly not unworthy, whether as it respects literary taste or eloquence, to speak from the spot that was once occupied by Dr. Blair, while his sermon contained a vast deal more Bible theology, and was characterized by a great deal more onction than was ordi narily the case with the sermons of that eminent preacher. Subsequently, toward the evening, — for the third time, — I attended divine service in one of the churches of the New Town, where a young man, a licentiate of the Established Church, preached. And I must say that I thought his ser mon very excellent and well delivered, though, I was told, he had been presented by a patron to a charge, but on account of unacceptableness, had found it necessary to decline the offer. I will conclude this letter by stating that to-morrow morn ing, Providence aiding, I purpose to start for Glasgow, and that thence, with but little delay, I will set out for the North of Ireland. • I subscribe myself, &c, M. F. P. S. — There are two things that I would make some reference to before folding up these sheets. While looking around from the top of the Castle of Stir ling, a man came to me, introducing himself, and began to 262 TRAVELS IN FRANCE ask some questions in relation to family connections that he had, he said, in the State of New York. From the direction that he soon gave to his inquiries, and from the sort of questions that he put, I could not help the coming to the insulting conclusion that some one had furnished the intelli gence to some one connected with the British government that I had been along the Canadian frontier during the civiL commotions in Canada, and there rendered such services as men are usually paid for. The same thing was done at Bou logne, in a hotel of that town, kept by an American born in the northeast part of the State of New York, whose father had passed over to the County of Kent in England, some time after the close of the American Revolution ; and this, to aggravate the thing, in such a connection with another occurrence as was adapted to make the thing pecu liarly annoying. I would remark that I neglected to make sure whether the person with whom I had this conversation was the keeper of the house, though my impression was that he was. The same thing occurred in a boat on the Thames, when in London. Then again, a conversation, in which the same thing was indistinctly implied, was had with a gentle man at Bangor. The fact is the thing has followed me in France, England, Wales, and Scotland, and thus everywhere except Ireland. Of course there was no use in appearing angry ; and, in the circumstances, all I could do was to tell the various persons with whom I had the conversations re ferred to, (and this I did as meekly as possible,) that I had never been in any part of the State of New York except the city and its immediate vicinity, that I did not think I had ever been within one hundred and fifty miles of the Canadian line, and that during the civil commotions in British Ame rica I had been all the time attending to my duties in the place where I still had my home. Indeed, I found that a forged receipt would be all that would be needful to make out a very ugly-looking case. I might say a great deal more as to this matter, but choose to keep silence for the present. Again, I ought not to pass by the mentioning that while here, I went about ten miles out from Edinburgh on the Edinburgh and Berwick Railroad, spending a good part of a day among the farms of that particular district of Edin burghshire. But, as I purpose to say something at some future time, with respect to Scottish agriculture, I refrain from going in this place into details. AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 263 NO. XXVIII. Departure from Edinburgh — Railroads and Country Between Edinburgh and Glas gow — Glasgow — Clyde — Streets, &c. — Monuments — Noble Cathedral — The Univer sity—Its Museum — Ex-President Fillmore — Annals of the City — Departure for Ire land — Dunglass and Dumbarton Castles — The River Laggan — Belfast — Excursion to Carrickfergus — Its Castle — Annals of the Town — Ancient Earls of Ulster — Sieves — • Rise of Irish Presbyterianism — Return to Belfast — Antrim — One of the Mysterious Round Towers — Castles — John Howe and Gowan — Battle of Antrim — Ballymena — Ecclesiastical Meeting and Dragoons — Traveling Companion — Lough Neagh — Night in Toome Bridge Village — Mud-Houses — Aspect of Country — Maghera — Round Tow ers — Aspect of Country — Carntoghcr Mountains — Dungiveu — Aspect of Country — - Foughan Vale — Derry. Londonderry, July, 1855. I last wrote to you from Edinburgh, concluding and sand ing off my letter on the morning of the 16th of July. In that letter I stated that I intended to begin my journey for the North of Ireland on the next day, but, having subse quently changed my mind, I started that very evening and reached Glasgow just before dark. Making my way from the railroad station to the street along the Clyde called the Broomielaw, I again, as in Edinburgh, put up in a hotel, purporting, from its sign, to be a temperance hotel. I fear, however, that instead of a temperance house, I happened, this time, into a mere illicit whisky-house of the better class. At least, under this impression, I sought other lodg ings the next day. I ought to say something as to the country through which the railroad, by which I traveled from Edinburgh, passes. And as there are two railroads between the cities of Edin burgh and Glasgow, and as I have now traveled over both, — having gone on by one, and come back by the other, — perhaps it may not be amiss if, taking them in conjunction, I speak of the character of the districts of country through which both of them have been carried. The more southern road by which I journeyed, (beginning my view at Glasgow,) traverses the County of Lanark, and, entering that of Edinburgh or Mid Lothian, thus reaches the City of Edinburgh. The other road by which I journeyed pursues a more northern course, and, (making Glasgow again the starting-point of my view,) after traversing the northern part of Lanarkshire and the southern part of the County of Stirling, enters the Shire of 264 TRAVELS IN FRANCE Linlithgow or West Lothian, and then Edinburghshire, and thus reaches the City of Edinburgh. The shorter of the two ways is about, according to the best information I could obtain, forty-seven miles or a little more, while the other is considerably longer. One of the roads extends through a country much more of an upland aspect than the other, passing through a long distance of reclaimed bog and moor, by a little mountain lake, and through numerous farms that plainly partake of the character of moorland farms. The country, through which the other railway passes, is by no means of an upland appearance, but a portion of it is made up of land thin and hilly. Along both, the intelligence, in dustry, perseverance, and skill, of the Scottish husbandman are strikingly displayed. As I passed over these roads, I observed a number of about the largest thistles that I have ever seen, and, when looking at these growing by the way side, I almost concluded, — their growth, in some instances, was so luxuriant beyond anything I had ever seen elsewhere, whether in Scotland or the United States, — that they were manured and cultivated as the shadowings forth of the Scotch nation's motto, " Nemo me impune lacessit." And, when admiring the rich, spontaneous vegetation of the thistle, I could not, of course, overlook a thing vastly more worthy of notice, the taste exhibited in the cultivation of plots of flowers close by the various platforms at which the trains stop for the reception and disembarking of passengers. In England something of this is to be seen along railroads, in Ireland very little, in the United States scarcely anything at all, and in Scotland a good deal ; while in France a great amount of attention is bestowed upon it, so far as I had an opportunity of observing the state of matters in that coun try. So much as to the general aspect of things along the railroads connecting the two chief cities of North Britain. In Glasgow 1 stopped three days, and then sailed for Belfast. You are aware that the City of Glasgow is one of the most industrious in the world, that it has the reputation of being much more so than Edinburgh. Of its wonderful industry there can be no doubt, since this is the foundation of its extraordinary prosperity. But certainly Edinburgh is also characterized by a population of untiring application to the various pursuits in which it is engaged. Perhaps the women of Edinburgh even surpass those of their sister city AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 265 in this thing. Assuredly, I have not seen women anywhere else in the British Islands, nor have I seen them anywhere in the United States, so untiringly industrious as I observed frequently to be the case in the capital of Scotland. The women, and young girls, attending in the various sorts of stores in which such persons wait on customers, I have found, in the intervals between the various calls for their services, engaged busily in needle-work, or in some other branch of feminine labor. Nowhere else have I observed this to be the case so untiringly, and at the same time so generally, except perhaps in Paris, where the same habit extensively prevails. When a stranger begins to perambulate the streets of Glasgow, the first striking object that forces itself upon his notice is the river. This stream is narrow, but yet, at the lower part of the town, quite deep. Like the Liffey, in Dublin, it is cased with stone along its banks. And over it are three excellent stone bridges and one of wood. Along the northern bank, the city proper is built, on a plain which rises from it with a gentle acclivity. On the southern bank is a fine suburb, which may be properly regarded as a part of the city. Along the stream runs a street open toward the water, named the Broomielaw. And, away back from the river, run, parallel to it, three remarkably fine streets, Argyle Street, Trongate Street, and Gallowgate Street. Also, in connection with these noble streets, I would refer to St. George's Square, and several other squares, and particularly the Green, (a large and mag nificent enclosure so arranged that it affords to persons in carriages a drive of twelve miles in extent.) As the stran ger listlessly saunters around the streets of the city, he is brought into contact with several monuments. Thus there is the monument to Sir Walter Scott in St. George's Square, a fluted Doric column of eighty feet in height. Then there is a pedestrian statue to Watt, the inventor of the steam- engine ; and also there is a pillar, surmounted by a statue, raised in honor of Sir John Moore, a native of Glasgow, who fell at Corunna, (in Spain,) in the January of 1809. Next, there is a bronze equestrian statue to the Duke of Wel lington, in front of the splendid colonnade of the Exchange. Again, there is an equestrian statue to William III., in the Irongate, attheMarket Cross. Again, there are equestrian statues to Charles II. and Queen Victoria, sovereigns so 22 266 TRAVELS IN FRANCE unlike in their characters. Besides, on the highest top of that mount, (said to have once been a favorite abode of a college of Druids,) on which the spacious and beautiful necropolis has been located, is to be seen, from afar, a grand monument erected, in 1825, to the Reformer Knox, the old champion of the Scottish Church, with his Bible in his hand, looking intently over on the city and the old cathedral op posite to him. The fact is, in Glasgow, as one wanders around, he is brought into contact with the grand, the beau tiful and ornamental, and the useful. The places in the city that most strongly attracted my atten tion were the cathedral of the olden time and the university. The cathedral, which takes its name from St. Mungo, stands on an elevated site in the northwestern part of the city, that part that was first built. It is a precious relic of the edifices reared in the middle ages. Its size alone is worthy of being spoken of; it being two hundred and eighty- four feet in length, sixty-five feet in width, and ninety feet in height, and being ornamented with two fine towers, — one of which supports a spire corresponding in altitude to the mag nitude of the structure. While such is the perfection of its architecture that, at least in parts of it, it has been con sidered to exhibit the best specimen, by the old masons, of Gothic groining, now in existence. The roof in the crypt is specially admired ; and the main arch, from which no less than eight arches spring, is pointed ont as possessing un rivaled grandeur and solidity. Until a few years ago, the building was passing into decay, having been blocked up with rubbish ; but it has been cleaned out and thoroughly repaired. Only one part of it, the choir, is now used for the celebration of worship. It is worthy of being mentioned that, in the vicissitudes in the course of affairs, it has come to pass that, on one of the walls of this once Romish and subsequently Episcopal place of worship, — I speak of the wall of the north porch, — a slab of marble has been placed in honor of the Presbyterian martyrs who were executed, during the persecution before the Revolution of 1688, at the Market Cross of the city. The edifice, at least much of it, (for the work was carried on at different ages,) is said to be nearly seven hundred and twenty years old, having been founded by a bishop of Glasgow, named Achaius, in 1136. Since that time some events, in connection with its history, AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 267 of considerable importance, have occurred. We learn that, during the wars of Edward I. in Scotland, it fell into the hands of an English and military bishop, and it was to expel from it this foreign intruder that Wallace fought the battle of Glas gow. Again, there is a story that at the Reformation it was about being destroyed, as other old Gothic churches in various parts of North Britain had been, but that the trades men of the city saved it by threatening the life of the man who would first put on it a hand of violence. Again, in its nave, (termed the Outer High Kirk,) was held the General Assembly of November, 1638, by which Scottish Episcopacy was abolished; the first great movement toward the civil wars of Charles I.'s reign. Again, in the last age, destruc tion, not through a wild religious fury as at the Reforma tion, but by a gradual dilapidation, was about to overwhelm it; however, as was remarked above, it has been made to re new its youth, public attention having probably been directed to it, at least in part, by Scott, who has made it the theatre of one ofthe scenes of his "Rob Roy." Indeed, Scott con tributed not merely to its late restoration, but it is by means of his writings that it has become classic ground visited by all travelers, even by royalty. While in Glasgow I spent half a day in the University and its museum. In truth the University is the place in which I spent more time than in any other. It stands in the old part of the city on the spacious and well-built though sombre- looking street called High Street. When going to it, I found this street, and some neighboring ones, thronged with crowds of country people, with which were mingled many persons from the North of Ireland, who had come across to stay a week or two and then return home. On inquiring as to what had caused the large gathering, I was informed that not long ago had been held the Fair of Glasgow, and that the numbers of men and of women, old and young, to be met with, were merely the residuaries of those who had attended on the occasion referred to. Almost all the Irish were of the class of laborers, and I could not but feel astonished that men and women, chained to the oar of drudgery and weariness for a pitiful subsistence, should be willing to pay steamboat fare to and from Scotland, besides the other expenses that must be incurred, merely for the sake of the excitement of a fair, in connection perhaps with the meeting with some old neighbors 268 TRAVELS IN FRANCE who had settled as laborers in and about Glasgow. Yet, on conversing with them, I found that all were pleased with their visit ; and in spite of religious prejudices, for a great majority of the Irish were Catholics, were going home full of the praises of the Scotch. After making my way through the groups that were to be encountered, I reached the gate ofthe discolored, blackish edifice for which I was searching. It is plain but very substantial, and bears the aspect of a great antiquity. Within it two large courts are enclosed, around one of which are the houses of professors. It is quite spacious, having a front on the street of three hundred and five feet, and being in depth two hundred and eighty- two feet. After a few moments of inspection, given to the main edifice, I passed into the grounds behind it, where I walked around till the hour for the opening of the museum would arrive. These are extensive, and, if properly attended to and ornamented, would be very beautiful. At length the hour, for which I was waiting, came, and, presenting a ticket at the door of the University museum, I was admitted. The most valuable part of this institution consists in the noble collections made, in the several departments of the useful, of the curious, and of the scientific, by the celebrated Dr. William Hunter of London, and bequeathed by him to the University of Glasgow. The numerous and admirable ana tomical preparations are, no doubt, the most valuable things in the rooms, but, feeling myself very imperfectly qualified to describe them, I will not attempt to say anything of them in detail. For my part, I must say that I never met anywhere with anything, in this department, equal to them. Passing them by, I will mention, at random, some things that spe cially attracted my observation. It is well known that the invention of stereotype printing is usually ascribed to Fir- min Didot, a celebrated Parisian type-founder and printer, of the family named Didot; which family has produced several eminent printers. The first book published by him, which was printed in this manner, — Callet's Logarithmic and Trigonometrical Tables, — came from the press in 1795. Now, in the Hunterian Museum, I have seen a stereotype plate of a Sallust published by William Ged, a Scotchman, in 1744, that is, fifty-one years before. But even Ged was anticipated by J. Van Der Mey, of Leyden, who published, a dozen years before the printing of Sallust by Ged, an edi- AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 269 tion of the Dutch Bible, printed in this manner. Yet these things detract but little from the reputation of Didot, with whom the idea of stereotyping was original and whose ste reotyping involved so great improvement on that ofthe others that this style of printing has now come into extensive use. Another thing that drew my notice was the skeletons of a tiger and a goat, placed side by side. The strength of the tiger is so very much superior to that of the goat that one is apt to suppose that the bones of the skeleton of the former must be vastly larger than those of the latter's skeleton. Still this is not the case by any means ; a fact that shows that muscle, and not bone, is, in the animal frame, the chief seat of power. Again, I gazed with a melancholy interest on the poor remains of a human being, once a distinguished man, a Burmese. His body was burned after death and the ashes collected into an earthen vase, while the fragments of the burnt bones were put into small dishes ; the vase, with the dishes arranged around it, having been placed under a pa goda at Rangoon, and thence conveyed to Glasgow as a curiosity. Again, what a lesson do we learn from the col lection of preserved infantine monsters, here to be seen; human shapes unnaturally and strangely shapeless ! Oh 1 what a cure to the fires of man's lust ! Besides, I would remark that in this museum is a most admirable statue of Watt, with his dividers, and in studious mood, by Chantry, presented to the University by the son of Watt, in token of gratitude for the encouragement given by its professors to his father in his scientific pursuits in early life. Having fully gratified my curiosity in the museum, I re turned to the University, to look at a few of its rooms and wander among its courts. With respect to these, I have no particular remarks to make. They are old-fashioned, and in, by no means, the best repair, but still very well answer their purpose. That the grounds, the rooms, or anything connected with any part of the entire educational appa ratus, should not be in a proper condition, is, to me, very strange, when I call to mind that the income of the Uni- vesity is £20,000 per year. Of course, on such an income as this a strong staff of instructors is maintained; this staff including professors of logic, of moral philosophy, of natural philosophy, of Greek, of Latin, of mathematics, and of civil law, as well as of astronomy, materia medica, anatomy, sur- 270 TRAVELS "IN FRANCE gery, midwifery, natural history, chemistry, botany, theology, "the Oriental languages, and church history. The number of students is usually about one thousand. ¦ As to the past of this celebrated seminary of learning, I will barely remark that it was founded by Pope Nicholas V. about 1450, and that since that time in its halls have flourished, both among its professors and alumni, as many eminent men as in almost any other institution of the kind in the world. I may add that among its alumni were John Knox and George Buchanan,, who were students in it to gether. Perhaps it may interest you to tell you, in this connec tion, that, while I was in the museum of Glasgow University, no less distinguished a person than an American Ex-Presi dent came in. He, and two other gentlemen, citizens of Glasgow, who were in his company, , after having walked around for some time, opened the door to leave, when the individual who has charge of the museum came to me and asked me if I had ever seen Ex-President Fillmore, of the United States. I immediately went up to the book in which visitors enter their names, and found "Millard Fillmore, U. S. of A.," subscribed directly under my own. I imme diately followed him to the door, but he had just stepped from it, and he was walking away ; else I would have made free to address him. Having taken up so much of this letter with an account of Glasgow, when, at the taking up of my pen, I had in tended to say only a few words in reference to it, I will only further trouble you with a statement or two as to its first founding, and its rapid increase in population in the last century. In relation to its first founding, we know not any thing. It is certain that near it, or perhaps where it stands, was a military station of the Romans, occupied by that peo ple down to 426 ; which station was probably of importance, since, at not any great distance west of it, ran the wall of Anto ninus, which it was requisite should be defended. It is also certain that when St. Mungo, (otherwise named St. Kente- gern,) in 560, first founded the See of Glasgow, Glasgow was a town. Thus, John of Tinmuth, who lived in 1366, speaking of Mungo, says, "His cathedral seat he fixed in the aforesaid town of Deschu, (interpreted illustrious family,) which is now called Glaschu." The See thus founded, hav- AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 271 ing become extinct, was re-founded by David, Prince of Cum berland, about the year 1115. And, in 1180, William the Lion erected the town into a burgh of regality. With re spect to the rapid increase of Glasgow in population during the last century, I give the following statistics. In 1755, the number of inhabitants in the town and suburbs was com puted to amount to little more than 23,000. In 1780, it was 42,000. In 1801, it was 83,000. In 1821, it had risen to 147,000. In 1845, it was estimated to be about 270,000. And at present it is about 300,000. There are very few cities whose increase in population gives such evidence of prosperity as is afforded, in regard to this city, by these sta tistics. Having seen of Glasgow all that I was desirous to look at, I embarked for Belfast, by steamboat, on the afternoon of Thursday, the 19th inst. We were soon at the place where the Clyde ceases to be a river and becomes a frith ; and, passing the ruins of Dunglass Castle, at which, it is said, was the western end of Antoniuus's wall, the Rock and Castle of Dumbarton, (two and a half miles west of Dun- glass Castle,) and Greenock, were quickly out at sea. Then night began to set in, and then began the bright blaze of lighthouses to appear : in these circumstances, and feeling wearied, I bade adieu, by a last look, to "The land of brown heath and shaggy wood," and retired to rest to awake in the Emerald Isle in the morning. Of course, in this state of matters, I will not at tempt to give the particulars of the voyage. Suffice it to say that, not a very long time after I got out of bed in the morning, and I had rubbed the dust and dimness out of my eyes, I found myself in Belfast Bay, and then in the River Laggan and close by Belfast. Having soon settled myself down in a comfortable hotel, and rested and recanted nature still languid, I set out to walk around the town. As I told you of Belfast, in a previous letter, all that I suppose you care about hearing in relation to it, I will not tax your patience by telling that which would be nearly a repetition of what I said before. I will only say that I spent a good part of the day on which I got off the boat in again viewing things of which I have before said something. 272 TRAVELS IN FRANCE However, I will attempt to give you a brief account of an excursion that I made on Saturday last to Carrickfergus. Having breakfasted, and walked to College Square, to make a call on an old acquaintance, I took the train for the city named, and, in a very brief time, found myself there. As I spent in it only two or three hours, having returned from it in the evening, I will not attempt to say, with respect to it, a great deal. It stands, as probably you are already aware, at the distance of eight or nine miles from Belfast, on the north side of Carrickfergus Bay, and is the assize town of the County of Antrim. It is a pleasant, old-fashioned place, without much business or great wealth, though too much exposed to the cutting sea-breezes in the winter for delicate lungs. One thing noticeable among the humbler portion of its citizens is a dialect, and accent, approximat ing in their character to those of the western coast of Scot land. Its jail, and courthouse, like those of Irish county- towns always, are large, solid and convenient structures. It has also a substantial pier running out into the far-stretching expanse of neighboring shallow water, at which small vessels are able to unload. In addition to these objects of interest, ought to be noticed the old Castle of Joymount and the more ancient edifice named Carrickfergus Castle. This lat ter-mentioned venerable pile, which is still used for military purposes, is perhaps the very oldest edifice of the kind in Ireland. Standing in frowning grandeur on a rock of no great height, this rock projecting into the wide bay, the sight of it cannot fail to suggest the remembrances of ancient turbulent sept-chiefs who, with the days of barbarism, have passed away ; of warlike feudal barons ; and especially of that powerful race, (that of the De Bourgos,) which once held sway in it, whose blood and title disappeared, five cen turies ago, from those shores, by blending themselves with the lineage and honors of a still prouder and more powerful race, the crowned Plantagenets. <*. The town is, in some form or other, of great antiquity, Carrickfergus Castle, — under whose protection some sort of a town had no doubt been built up, — having been in exist ence even before the landing of Strongbow in Ireland. This town and castle witnessed the presence, in 1210, of King John who, for a brief time, occupied the Castle ; and it was while residing in it that, in consequence of the tyrannical AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 273 conduct of W. de Breuse, (or Braosa,) he ordered the arrest of de Breuse's wife and daughter, himself having fled, — these unfortunate persons, along with a youth, son to the one pri soner and brother to the other, subsequently dying in the dungeons under Windsor Castle. Again, about one hun dred years after the visit of King John to Carrickfergus, (in 1315 and 1316,) it sustained a terrible siege from the Scotch army during the invasion of Ireland by Edward Bruce ; in the course of this siege, the citizens and garrison having been reduced to such straits as to eat the hides of beasts, and even to eat eight Scotch prisoners. At length, after the endurance of superhuman sufferings, the place was sur rendered to the two Braces ; Robert, during the progress of the investment, having come across from Scotland with re inforcements Again, thirty-six years after this, in 1352, the seigniory of the town and its dependencies, — by the marriage of the only child and heiress of the Earl of Ulster with Lionel, Duke of Clarence, (the third son of Edward III. of England,) from whom the English kings subsequently cam.e to be descended, — passed into the royal family. Again, passing over an interval of nearly three hundred years, when the Scotch Parliament, in 1642, sent an army to aid the Irish Protestants against the Confederate Catholics, this city was occupied by the Scotch general, and was his most important stronghold. Again, coming down to the era ofthe Revolu tion, being held by a strong garrison for James II. , it was besieged, in 1689, by the Duke of Schomberg for Wil liam III., when, after a regular investment, it was compelled, having been ably and courageously defended, to surrender, though on favorable terms. I only add that since this, no military event in connection with it has occurred, except the attack made on it, in the early part of 1760, with three ships and only seven or eight hundred land forces, by that enter prising and bold rover ofthe seas, the French Captain Thu- rot. The garrison was small, and Thurot was brave and skillful. In this state of things a battle was fought in the streets. During this conflict, a thoughtless child ran play fully between the parties, when a French soldier, with a con siderate humanity and a marvelous coolness, above all praise, put aside his musket, went up to the child, and, taking it up, carried it to a place of safety ; then resuming his place in the fusilade. The result of the fight in the streets was that 274 TRAVELS IN FRANCE" the garrison was forced to retire into the Castle, which was soon compelled, on account of the fragility of its old walls, to capitulate. Nor is the ecclesiastical history of Carrickfergus void of interest. In it, in the years of darkness, stood a monastery which was connected, by a vaulted subterranean passage, still in existence, with the ancient parish church. It was on the ruins of this monastery that, in the reign of James I., Joy- mount Castle was erected. It is worthy of notice, in regard to this town, that it was the first town in the northern part of Ire land that became Protestant. This we learn from the char ter granted to it in 1569, when Elizabeth sat on the throne, in which instrument it is mentioned that the inhabitants had embraced the Reformed religion several years before. Be sides, it is worthy of being mentioned that it was in it that the Presbyterian Church in Ireland, the smallest of the three main ecclesiastical communions in this country, had, as an organized religious community, its origin. This event oc curred on the 10th of June, 1642, when the first presbytery that ever met, at least in modern times, in the island, first assembled. Providence brought about this occurrence in the following way. The confusion and carnage of the terri ble year of 1641 had left the Protestant pulpits everywhere, and in the northern part of Ireland more particularly, al most unoccupied. Also, an army, in consequence of the condition in which the country then was, had been sent over from Scotland to assist the Protestants. The presbytery which met on the occasion referred to was composed of five chaplains from this army, to wit: Messieurs Cunningham, Baird, Peebles, Scott, and Aird, and of four ruling elders from sessions that had been erected among its soldiery. The object which these men had in view in thus assembling was to take measures for supplying the Protestants of the contiguous districts with preaching. And the body thus called into being was soon joined by several ministers who had hitherto been connected with the Irish Protestant Church ; among whom Mr. Nevin, of Donaghadee, and Mr. Melvin, of Downpatrick, were the foremost and the most prominent. Thus had Irish Presbyterianism a beginning ; for, previous to this, though there had been numerous Nonconformists in the island, (many .of whom had suffered persecution for their Nonconformity,) and most of these had AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 275 either been inclined toward this form of church organization, or had been, in their views, decided preferrers of it, yet up to this time no maintenance of the principles peculiar to Presbyterianism, in their full extent, had been attempted by an organized community. And, from that time down to the present, Irish Presbyterians have uninterruptedly main tained, whether sunshine or storm, an ecclesiastical exist ence. With respect to my sojourn in Belfast, after my return to it from Carrickfergus, suffice it to say that, having spent my Sunday there, I secured a ticket for the town of Antrim, by the railroad, and, in the forenoon of Monday, made my way thither. The place just named stands on quite a small stream, the Six- mile Water, and near by the northeastern corner of Lough Neagh, and is about fourteen miles from Belfast. It is a town of between two and three thousand inhabitants who are noted for their intelligence and industry. It is strongly Protestant. Especially are the Presbyterians here numerous. Also, the Unitarians have a considerable numerical strength. I rambled somewhat in the vicinity, and, when thus employed at a considerable distance from the town, a circumstance well worth being noted came under my observation. I came on a handsome little building whose use I conld by no means understand. Upon inquiring of an individual, into whose company I had fallen, what sort of a building it was, he told me it was a church belonging to the establishment, that there was not in the parish a single person, (he believed,) who did not reckon himself a Dissenter, and that, objection having been made, on the ground of there being no church edifice, to the payment of tythes, this little church had been built to silence all such complaints and objections for the fu ture. This case, however, is no doubt, entirely unique. The town and its vicinity are noted for several objects de serving the traveler's attention. Among these I Would first notice one of those ancient Round Towers which are to be met with in so many places in Ireland, and one in the very best state of preservation of any in the island. About one mile from the town, this curious piece of masonry stands, having braved the storms of mysterious centuries, an enigma, now unsolvable by man ; and perhaps a thousand years hence it may be standing as perfect as to-day, a mystery more incom- 276 TRAVELS IN FRANCE prehensible then, as it is now, than even the Pyramids. Said pillar-tower has a single door, for entrance, high above the ground ; has four small windows near its top, looking to the cardinal points ; is about fifteen feet in diameter, and is of the height of about ninety-five feet. When the structures, of which it is a specimen, were reared, is totally unknown.' Even when the Anglo-Norman landed in Ireland, they had been standing during a time indefinitely long. Nor is there any certainty as to the use for which they were raised. They do not answer any similar purpose to that for which belfries are raised, as there is not, as to each, room for a bell to swing in the top. They could not have been built for beacons, as they are frequently to be found in low situ ations. Possibly the hypothesis may be well-fouuded that they were intended as sanctuaries for the preservation of portions of the sacred fire in the days of paganism ; though, a theory, to which, in preference, I am disposed to give credence, is that they are monuments raised over the dead, a human skeleton, it is affirmed, having been found, so far as they have been explored, under each. Or perhaps they were the keeps of the. early Christian ecclesiastics for their manuscripts and sacred things. Certainly they prove that at a very remote period there lived in Ireland persons capa ble of surpassing in masonry, as it respects durability, the skill of Egypt or Greece. I may mention that the number in the entire island is stated to be about sixty-two, (though I have seen a statement, which may be correct, putting them as high as one hundred and seventeen or eighteen,) and that they vary in height from thirty-five to one hundred and twenty feet. The Castle of Antrim is also deserving of no tice ; the seat of Lord Massarene, the representative of the old Irish knight, Sir John Clotworthy, celebrated as an in fluential member of the Long Parliament to which, having been compelled by Strafford to fly from Ireland, he was elected in England, and celebrated also as a lay member of the Westminster Assembly, the body which compiled the symbols of the Presbyterian churches of the British Islands and of the United States. Besides, Shane's Castle ought,. by all means, not to be passed by. This old mansion has been, for a long period of time, the residence of the Lords O'Neil, the last line of persons, (at least occupying any distinguished social position,) belonging to any of the AND .THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 277 branches of those ancient O'Neils connected prominently through so many centuries with Irish history. Well do I recollect, in my college days, to have seen that one of the family, with whom the title was to expire, in Belfast, when he bore the simple title of a general in the army, an elder brother, (if I mistake not,) bearing, at that time, the family title. On the occasion referred to, I was told to go around to Donegal Place, in the city named, where I would see General O'Neil, — a general, at the time, being to me as great a curiosity as an emperor, — and, having walked to that local ity, I there met him then in the prime of life and ere long to become the last of his race. The small town of Antrim is not without historical asso ciations connected with it. In it resided and preached, from 1671 to 1676, the eloquent and eminent English Puritan di vine, John Howe. In it also resided, both contemporane ously with him and subsequently, the Rev. Thomas Gowan, one of the ejected Irish Presbyterian ministers, a man de serving of being named even along with Howe These two men were here, some time, conjoined in presiding over a school of philosophy and theology, the first experiment of the Irish Presbyterians as to domestic education in the branches usually taught in universities ; an experiment, however, in which they found it impossible, in those days, long to perse vere. Nor has Antrim been without experience of the evils of civil war. In it, on the 7th of June, 1798, was fought a severe battle between a considerable body of the forces of George III., in Ireland, and a body of United Irishmen from the surrounding districts. At this time the army at the dis posal of the Viceroy amounted to one hundred and fifty thousand men, divided in parties of between two and ten thousand among the thirty-two counties of the island ; a force, I may in a passing way remark, three times greater than Britain has ever employed against America. In the County of Antrim the military were particularly strong. The question was much discussed among the leaders of the then projected revolution, whether the patriotic portion of the people could master such a military force ; and it was determined to make the experiment. Partly with this view ; partly to seize as prisoners a body of the magistracy to be as sembled in the place on the day named ; partly from sympa- 23 278 TRAVELS IN FRANCE thy with those who had been driven into active revolt on the southeastern coast ; partly to regain possession of large stores of small arms, and of ammunition, which had been col lected from the country people ; and partly to anticipate the seizure of more prisoners and the gathering up of more arms, things expected to ensue from the magisterial meeting about to take place, — the assault was made. This occurred at two o'clock in the afternoon. And the attack, after a hard con flict, was crowned with success, so that the assailants ob tained possession both of the town, of the small arms in it, and of two curricle guns. But, one road being occupied too late by the assailants, by it the soldiery withdrew. These being soon strongly reinforced returned quickly to the con flict. In their first onset, they were, at all points, severely foiled. Warned by this, they had recourse mainly to their artillery in which they were vastly superior to their Croppy opponents who had only two brass pieces and the curricle guns which they had captured. At length, after an obstinate engagement of three hours, the United forces, wearied out by an artillery fire, to which they could but im perfectly respond, abandoned the town, retiring hastily, and with broken ranks, (with the loss of their artillery, though carrying with them most of the firelocks that they had taken,) to Donegor Hill; the great body of them, in a few days, by the advice of their leader, McCracken, returning, till after harvest and the reception of arms and artillery from France, to their homes. On the side of the loyalist party, fell Lord O'Neil, Colonel Lumley, several inferior officers, and a large number of the rank and file which was never correctly given to the public, while the United men lost many hundreds. In relation to this engagement, I gathered up, from some of those that still survive, who had been concerned in it, or who had resided at the time in the vicinity, several anecdotes. An insane man, who used to wander around, had gone thither with his neighbors, and such was the impression made on him by the scene, that, though he lived nearly forty years after wards, no promises nor persuasions could induce him ever again to enter the town : when urged he would at once be off in some other direction. In the district where this afflicted man had his home, when at home, was, and is, a large Dis senting congregation, and of all the families in it there were AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 279 only two, that of the minister, and that of which my inform ant was a member, (these two families being restrained, the one by the tie of the regium donum, and the other by the fear of forfeiting a considerable property,) which had not some member in the battle ; and, in the graveyard in which these people buried their dead, there were counted, within a week after, no less than in the neighborhood of fifty funerals of young men. Again, I was told by an old soldier, who had served in the heavy horse, — his story being confirmed by others, — that the body of heavy cavalry, to which he be longed, having been ordered to charge down the street, had entered the town at a gallop, but that, having reached a cer tain point, an unexpected close fire had cut down seventeen of their number, being the entire head of the column. He said, though he had passed through many battles, he had never witnessed anything so frightful as the whole breadth of a street covered with wounded and dying men and horses ; while those behind, ignorant of the state of matters, were, at a gallop, pressing those before them on the prostrate and struggling mass. Yet, with all these things, (and, leaving skirmishes out of the count, this was only one battle out of more than twenty such, — resulting with varied success,) were George III., his ministry, and the Irish oligarchy, ready to put up, rather than grant to a nation those reasonable re quests which since, without injury to any one, have been, most of them, conceded; reform in Parliament, equality of civil and religious rights to the Dissenter, and Catholic eman cipation. Having gratified my curiosity as to the town of Antrim, I proceeded, the next day, to Ballymena, by railroad. The country between these two towns, which are distant from each other about eight miles, is excellent and very carefully cultivated. Ballymena I found to be a very fine inland town, with a population of about six thousand ; one much superior to anything that, in respect to it, I had any idea of, and one which I would view as a pleasant place of residence. It stands on a pleasant rivulet, the Braid, and is, much of it, well built. It also contains an excellent classical and mathe matical school, the diocesan school of the old Protestant Episcopal diocese of Connor. Besides, the communication between it and Belfast is now by railroad, so that one re siding in it has almost all the advantages that he would have 280 TRAVELS IN FRANCE in dwelling in the mercantile and literary emporium of Ulster. This town has always been distinguished for intelligence, industry, and morality. It has also always been strongly Presbyterian. It was in it, in March, 1661, — after Presby- terianism, and especially Presbyterian Church Judicatories, had been outlawed by the Irish government, in obedience to the commands of Charles II. who had just been restored to the throne, — that the General Synod of the Presbyterians was broken up by a body of dragoons, which attempted its surprisal ; the members having barely time to flee before the soldiery entered, with drawn swords, the place of meeting. Having, in the afternoon, secured a conveyance, in com pany with a mercantile agent from Belfast, who was on his way to Derry by the route of Toome-Bridge Village, Mag- hera, and Dungiven, at which towns he desired to make short stpps, we started to reach Toome before night. The distance, by the road we took, is about seventeen or eigh teen miles; the country being, much of it, broken and mountainous. The village itself, spoken of, is small. It stands on the eastern bank of the Bann, (which here divides the counties of Antrim and Derry,) and quite close to the large expanse of fresh water, named Lough Neagh. And I would here say that, under the slanting rays of the setting sun, this lake to me looked very beautiful. All that are wanting are islets, and banks more picturesque ; defects that, no doubt, contribute much to render scenery tame and un interesting. Covering an area, in square miles, nearly twice as large as that of the Lake of Geneva, situated in the midst of an extensive and fertile country, having a fine river flow ing through it to the ocean, and being, in level, only fifty feet above tide-water, it ought to carry on its flood an ex tensive traffic. I regret to say that, owing to a want of en terprise among capitalists in the neighborhood, (for capital is not wanting, but merely sluggish,) this is far from being the case. Yet, unplowed though it is now, two hundred years ago, in the civil wars that began in 1641, frigates cruised and joined battle on its bosom. Having stayed all night in Toome at a poor tavern, (ta verns in the smaller towns in Ireland being very generally shamefully miserable things,) we continued, next morning, to press on our way, soon losing sight of the sheet of water that had so lately been spread beneath our view. The coun- AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 281 try, between this village and Maghera, is, most of it, excellent aud well cultivated ; the main exception to this remark, having reference to a wide boggy level beginning at Toome-Bridge and extending a considerable distance into the County of Derry. On this level, the houses are mostly built of turf or mud, a most unusual thing in this part of Ireland. Early in the day, we reached Maghera. This town contains a popula tion of about eleven hundred, and has a neat, comfortable, and thrifty appearance. While I was staying at a tavern here, a wedding party, with a respectable-looking man dressed in black, came in, and, having called for a half-pint or a pint of whisky spirits, retired to a room to converse and be friendly over it. I inquired who the man in the black garments was, and learned that he was a clergyman. I am sure you will agree with me that there is still abundant room for the temperance movement to expatiate in. I would add that at this place, as I was told after having left it, formerly stood one of those Round Towers that I spoke of in a previous part of this epistle ; a class of structures which, though numerous in Ireland, is not to be met with anywhere else, except two in Scotland and two near Bhangulpore in Hindostan. The one referred to, when it fell, though of no small height, fell as entire as if it had been a huge piece of ordnance. How admirable then must originally have been its masonry, and how excellent and durable the cement used in its construc tion 1 A little after midday we again started on our journey. After passing, for several miles, through a fine and carefully cultivated country, our road lay across a range of broad- topped mountains, bearing the name of the Carntogher Mountains. From the one side to the other of these, — which are green, and nowhere, at least in this part of the range, of steep ascent, and which furnish excellent summer pasturage for large flocks of young black cattle and of sheep, — is a distance of about eight miles ; in which distance there are not more than two houses. While passing through them, I observed, in an old graveyard, far off from human dwellings, in which no doubt a funeral had recently been, what seemed to me very affecting, though a thing founded on no warrant in the sacred volume ; a number of females, with disheveled hair, bowing in prayer around the graves of their dead relatives. At length we reached the northwestern side 23* 282 TRAVELS IN FRANCE of the range, and very soon were in the town which we de signed for our resting-place during the night. As to Dungiven I will not say much. It is a village chiefly ranging, in a single long street, along the road, and containing a population of a thousand persons, more or less. The fact is, it contains not anything of interest to the tra veler, except some old ecclesiastical remains, and a part of the skeleton of an old castle, once a place of strength, but now dilapidated. Next morning we started for Derry, the distance being seventeen miles. The road from Dungiven to Derry is ex cellent. First, we passed through a pretty country lying in the vicinity of the Rowe Water, the small stream on which Dungiven is situated. Next, we journeyed through a dis trict of a much ruder appearance. Then we entered a most beautiful and highly improved valley, Faughan Vale, through which flows a small river, the Faughan Water. Many excellent houses are spread along this stream for many miles ; and everywhere are to be seen beautiful greens that had been used in former days for the bleaching of linen cloth, though scarcely any of them are now employed for this purpose ; the linen business, in this part of Ireland, be ing now nearly defunct. And ere long the stately City of Derry, whence I address to you this letter, with its magnifi cent bay and river, burst on our view. I now bid you and my pleasant traveling companion good- by together ; the one for a time, and the other probably forever. I conclude this epistle by subscribing myself, Yours, &c, M. F. AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 283 NO. XXIX. This the Last Letter from Ireland— The Region on the BayB, the Swilly and the Foyle — Size of Donegal County — Size of Derry County — The Property of tho Lon don Societiea — Character of the Population — Its Classes— Employments — The Cli mate — Gloominess when Compared with Southern Skies — Dwellings — Food — Doe- gun — Cromlech— Lough Derg — Ruins of the Palace of the Old Princes — Raths — Ennishowen Castle — Mongevlin Castle — Castledoe — Red Deer — Towns — Derry, (Ac count of,) — Brief Annals of the City — Column of the Churches — Iona — King Duncan — The Rev. Francis McKemy — Farquharand Toland — General Richard Montgomery — The Hibernian Dalriada — The Caledonian — The Scoti — Their First Seat in the British Islands — History of, &c. — Days of Paganism — The Younger Patricius — The Norsemen — Invasion of the Munstermen in 1134 — De Courcy — Expedition to Iona — (yDonell attends Convention (in 1303) of the Great Men, Ac. — Protestant Refor mation — Bishop of Raphoe, a Member of the Council of Trent — Civil Warof the Three Provinces against the Vice-Regal Government— Subsequently, a Plot — Forfeitures and Plantation — Protestantism — "Wars of 1641 — "Wars of the British Revolution — ¦ Siege of Derry — Volunteers — United Irishmen — Opening of Correspondence, &c. — ¦ Main Political Grievances — Death of Hoche — General DaendelB — General Bonaparte —General Humbert — James Napper Tandy — Commodore Bomparte's Fleet — Military Force under General Hardy — Battle of Torry Island — Theobald "W. Tone — Ambushes — Union — Tandy Seized in Hamburg, &c. — United Men again Canvassed as to, &c. — Peace of Amiens — Renewal of "War between England and France — Revival, once more, of Correspondence with France, through the United States— Jerome Bonaparte in America- — His Marriage — Admission into a French Port refused to his Wife — Himself Blockaded in New York — Reaches France — Close of the Projects of the United Irishmen — Dissatisfaction continues — Batteries — Cruisers — A Camp — Loss of the Saldanna Frigate. City of Derry, September, 1855. I have not written to you since the letter that I addressed to you on the 26th of July ; but the reason was that I pur posed to write from Ireland only once more, and, this being the case, thought I might defer the dating and the conclud ing of this long and perhaps tedious epistle till about to leave for Liverpool. In this letter I will attempt to give you some account of the region in which I have been spending my time since my return from Scotland. This region is that which lies on the bays, the Swilly and the Foyle, in the counties of Donegal and Derry ; occupying the extreme northern part of the island. Of portions of these counties I have spoken already; having spoken of a "portion of Donegal in that letter in which I gave an account of my journey from this city to the western shore of Lough Swilly, and having spoken considerably at large of a large part of the County of Derry in the letter that I last sent you, in which I gave an account of my journey from Toome-Bridge Village hither. Perhaps, indeed, I may best convey to you correct ideas by speaking, not merely 284 TRAVELS IN FRANCE of districts of these counties, but of the counties themselves ; and, in making my remarks to be thus comprehensive, I do not take too much upon me, since, though I have not been entirely through either, I have seen much of both, and I have such a knowledge of what I have not seen, that it may be said to be everything but personal. The shires of Donegal and Derry lie side by side, and in fact a part of Derry, containing the capital of the county, runs in such a way into Donegal that the one may be viewed as mortised into the other. Donegal is more than twice the size of its sister county, the former containing nearly 1,200,000 acres, and the latter only a little more than 500,000 ; yet there is so much rough and mountainous soil in Donegal that there are not altogether 400,000 acres under cultivation, or one-third of the county, while in Derry there are 320,000 acres under tillage, or not very far from two-thirds of it. And when it is remembered that the arable soil of the smaller shire is vastly more fertile than that of the other, it will be seen that the yield of this smaller one is not unlikely to ex ceed that of its larger neighbor. Both counties are almost entirely cut up into landed estates that are very large, while the farms, (into which these estates are divided,) though some of them are also large, — containing two hundred acres, — are generally quite small, (fifty, thirty, twenty acres,) and sometimes merely lots of four or five acres, cultivated with the spade. Of the size of some of the larger landed properties you can scarcely form an adequate idea. One travels over miles after miles and it is the same landed proprietor who all along owns all. These landed mono polies are very injurious to the. community, where they cover, as in the case of which I am speaking, the entire soil of the country in which they are situated. Just think of the condition of the. County Derry, in which, it is said, (I believe without exaggeration,) no less than 300,000 English statute acres, (a part of this territory, however, being mounr tainous,) are owned by the Londoners who, for two hundred years, have been taking away, every year, from the county, the rental of this immense property. It is only the extra ordinary industry, and the strict economy, of the population, that enable it to sustain itself under such a drain. I doubt whether almost any other population on the globe could do so. Those immense estates have- the farms, into AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 285 which we have said they are divided, let to the occupiers on leases, some of these terminable, and some interminable; the general terms of the terminable . leases, being thirty-one years and three lives, that is, thirty-one years and the life of the longest surviving of three persons named in each such lease. With respect to the population of these counties, I remark that it is exceedingly similar in the one to what it is in the other. In both it is composed of the descendants of the old Celtic race, (which once formed the substratum of the popu lation ofthe island,) and ofthe descendants of settlers from England, Scotland, Wales, and the Pale, the fathers of the larger number of whom came hither between the years 1609 and about 1625, — this latter year being the year in which James I. died. Between the various races furnishing the settlers that came hither, the amalgamation very soon was complete, and also, to a considerable extent,- these commin gled their blood with that of the aboriginal inhabitants ; but, owing to the fact that the posterity of the. settlers was Pro testant, while nine-tenths of the posterity of the Celtic race remained Roman Catholic, the descendant of the Celt and that of the settler, — especially as it relates to the former, — blended but imperfectly ; nor have they yet blended. Indeed a traveler may go into large districts where most of the population is as completely Celtic in language and habits as it was in the palmiest days of the Earls of Tyrone and Tyr- connel. On the other hand, especially in the County Derry, one may go through large tracts of country where the Eng lish element in the population has had such a predominance that one might suppose that the ancestry of the people was nearly entirely English. This is particularly the case in neighborhoods where the plantation was made by the Lon don societies. Yet these distinctions arising from descent and from old traditions have long ceased to cause any heart burnings or ill-will in the community generally; no doubt because, in part, of the amalgamation of races, but mainly because differences of this kind have not been recognized by law for nearly two hundred and fifty years. Indeed, all the lines of demarkation, that are now recognized by the com munity, grow out of differences of birth, of fortune, of edu cation, of moral deportmeet, and of religion. But these make wide margins of separation. You, who have never 286 TRAVELS IN ERANCE been out of the United States, cannot imagine how vert wide these are, especially as it respects birth, education, and fortune. In fact, what, with you, would elevate a man into a favorite with the masses, would here cause him to be looked on as not much more than half wise. Thus I know of a gentleman, in one of these counties, of ancient lineage and large wealth, who, American-like, could not see, except very dimly, differences among men on account of their diver sities as to social position, and the result has been that he has come to be very generally regarded as pretty much a simpleton. Now, in the United States I have known of men of the same sort, and they were rewarded for their dim ness of vision, — of course, in connection with other things, — by being elected to the executive chairs of States, or by being sent to Congress. Indeed, in the United States, among white people, differences of social position, out of large cities, are scarcely, in some cases, more than recognized at all, while here a man of the first rank is separated by a long distance from any familiarity with a humble neighbor. Each system, no doubt, has its advantages and disadvan tages. One disadvantage of the system prevailing with you is that men of education, of polished manners, and of for tune, are always anxious to move, when living in the coun try, into towns and cities, while here the country is con stantly obtaining recruits from among the polished and prosperous of the cities. As to the personal appearance of the population of which I am speaking, you may be desirous that I would say some thing. With respect to the outward looks of diverse classes there is great difference in all countries, (except perhaps the United States,) and as much here as anywhere else. Thus, here, the gentry, the middle class, and the class of laborers, are very unlike in their manners and dress. Yet, all have many things in common ; vigorous and healthy bodies, fair and ruddy complexions, good lungs, and teeth that could chew through a nail. The upmost class dress in the best garments of every sort, and the middle class also dress well ; but it is only the portion of the class of laborers, which is of Celtic race, that attires itself comfortably. Those belong ing to this division ofthe class last spoken of dress-in home made woolens exceedingly substantial and comfortable though coarse, so that, in the back districts of these coun- AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 28T ties, the humblest laborers, even when satisfied to live in the meanest cabins, are well clothed. But those belonging to the class of laborers, not of Celtic blood in the main, are the reverse of this. They are often satisfied to buy other peo ple's cast-off clothes, and often are ragged. Superior to the back-country laborer in skill, persevering endurance of toil, and enterprise, and with a higher standard of comfort, they are far behind him in respectability of personal appear ance. As to the pursuits of the people here, I observe that farm ing, grazing, and fishing, are chiefly followed. Formerly the spinning of linen yarns, and the weaving of linen cloth, engaged great numbers very profitably ; but these employ ments, since cotton came to be worn so generally, have, to a great extent, ceased. Also, formerly another branch of in dustry, the knitting of woolen stockings, was much followed in some districts, but it, too, has greatly fallen away. With respect to farming, the chief employment of the popula tion, I observe that the farmers often cultivate farms that are very small, yet they do this so as to gather very large crops for the' acres under cultivation ; and the large farmers cultivate skillfully, outstripping, at least in the laborious care with which they weed their fields, the best American farmers. Often have I seen six or eight women weeding in company on a farm, and this not for a few days but for the season. I may further add as to this grand branch of industry that, along the shores of the bays, though the land is often very thin and unproductive, those who cultivate it, by the appli cation of vraich, (from the French varech, sea-wee'd,) suc ceed in raising large crops ; the vraich being cultivated be tween the lowest ebb-tide and the high-tide marks, (like arti ficial grass on land,) from stones of a certain sort, which are procured and carefully planted. As to grazing, the second branch of industry which I mentioned as among those that the people of these counties chiefly attend to, I re mark that the graziers are, by no means, scant in number, being, however, mainly to be found among the mountains, where they keep the young cattle of the farmers, but only during the summer ; being unable to keep any large num bers of cattle during the winter, on account of the small quantity of winter provender, which their mountains enable them to lay by. The other pursuit, of which, as being one -so» TRAVELS IN PRANCE of the leading businesses carried on in these counties, I spoke, is pishing. In this employment, Donegal is much more largely embarked than Derry, Donegal having, en gaged actively in the calling, about thirteen thousand fisher men and three thousand boats. These men, though not distinguished for enterprise, are, as to personal daring and skill in the management of boats, equal, and perhaps supe rior, to any similar class in the world. I myself have met such, in small open boats, far out of sight of land ; willingly exposed to the hyperborean storms that not unfrequently rage around the Irish coast. And, when speaking of the boatmen of this district of the island, I ought not to pass by the boatmen of Torry Island, a narrow islet of about three miles in length ; men whose maritime adventurousness is incapable of being surpassed. These, in their decked boats, which, so far as I know, are the only vessels, on the model of the old Norwegian sea-king's vessels, now in exist- - ence, (perhaps the Scottish Isles may have ones built in the same manner,) will brave any sea and any weather. I have thought, when looking at these things, that one huge Alle ghany chain of water, rushing on, would submerge a fleet of them. But the men tie themselves at their posts, the sea rolls over them, and the little shipling, as in the days of the old Norsemen, only goes under the threatening billow to come up again, intact, like a sea-bird washing her plumage. The hardiest soldier on the battle-field never exhibits loftier daring than is habitually displayed by the men who sail in those half-naked crafts. Truly sang the bard, and as it might seem with a peculiar reference to those who navigate these barks, — "Illi robur et aes triplex Circa pectus erat, qui i'ragilem truci Coramisit pelago ratem Primus." ***** As to the amount of the population in these counties, I would remark that that of the County of Londonderry is about two hundred thousand, and that of Donegal about two hundred and fifty thousand. Of the climate of the district with respect to which I am writing, you will expect me to say something. Of course, in the fifty-fifth degree of north latitude, and thereabout, very warm sunshine is never to be expected, and, accord- AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 289 ingly, all this summer, I have not found woolen garments in the smallest degree uncomfortable. The fact is, the heat of some days of the Indian summer of Pennsylvania or New York would be here thought unusually warm. There are also, in the summer, a great many rainy days which, though they give greenness to the fields, make the weather unplea sant. And, in winter, deep snows fall, though they seldom lie for more than two or three days. Also, I would remark that if the heats of summer be inconsiderable, the cold of the winter is always very moderate. The mean summer heat is about 58°, and that of the winter about 38°. When you compare 58° with ?6°, the latter the summer heat of Fah renheit's thermometer, and more especially with 90° and 100°, the heat often in Pennsylvania, and when you compare 38° with 32°, the latter the freezing point in said thermo meter, and more especially with 8° or 10° below zero and 20° and 25° above zero, this being the range of winter cold usual in Pennsyvania, you will at once perceive the medium character of the climate. But, though the summer is so slightly warm, the tenderest plants, — the arbutus, lauresti- nus, and myrtle, — grow admirably ; and the agapanthus and fuschia, so genial is the moderate winter, stand the winter cold and thrive well. As to the weather just at this time,* I would remark that it is quite pleasant, and that just now some few persons are reaping ; this harvest, however, being one unusually early. Before dropping the subject of climate, I would say a word as to the appearance of the sky. Here it is always overspread with clouds, which circumstance gives to the face of nature a sombre and gloomy aspect when con trasted with the brightness of more sunny lands. Never theless such is the perpetual shifting of the drapery over head that, when onS, who has lived in a warm climate, remembers the unchanging sameness and wearisome mono tony of a sky ever cloudless and bright, he cannot have any other feelings than those of delight when here he views the ever-moving sea of clouds above him, varying unceasingly its- fantastic shapes. Indeed this variety may be fairly balanced against the brightness of more southern countries, and more than compensates for the almost dismal obscurity which sometimes in this hazy cloud-land broods over all things. * The close of August and beginning of September. 24 290 TRAVELS IN ERANCE With respect to the dwellings of the people, I observe that these are, to some extent, accommodated to the external condition of those who occupy them ; though this is less the case here than in the United States, owing to the fact that here even rich men frequently do not possess the fee simple of the soil which they till, and men nowhere will build ex pensive houses on other people's land. The laborer occu pies a low, one-story tenement of stone, with hard-baked earthen floor, with three or four small windows, (each of about four, or occasionally six panes of glass,) with two apartments, (a kitchen and a room,) and with a thatched or sometimes slated roof. The farmer of the poorer sort occupies a house of the same kind as thatfl have described, only, larger ; while the large farmer occupies one with an entry or hall, a large kitchen, two large rooms lighted by windows that are often quite large, three or four small rooms, and, over one part of the dwelling, a second story ; or he sometimes occupies a slated two-story house. And the large landed proprietor dwells in a large mansion or castle, — as it may happen, — situated among woodlands, graveled avenues, gardens and orchards, smooth-shaven lawns, and large, rich fields enclosed with carefully dressed quick-set hedges ; a river, rivulet, small lake, or an indentation of some bay, being within view. Such are the dwellings to be met with in the country. In the towns, there is always a number of large and strongly built houses such as we find in the towns of the United States, only often more substantially built, and covered with slates instead of wooden shingles. These, however, are often in close propinquity with such habita tions as I have described as characteristic of the rural neighborhoods. As to the food of the people, I remark that it varies with the tastes and pecuniary means of families ; a thing to be expected as of course. The food of servants employed in farmers' families is somewhat as follows : for breakfast, por ridge, (that is, oatmeal-mush,) and milk, with potatoes and oatmeal-bread ; for dinner, potatoes, milk, oatmeal-bread, and fleshmeat ; and for supper, the same nearly as for break fast, only that flummery, (an article made from the siftings of oatmeal, soured and fermented in vats,) is substituted for porridge. Children fare nearly as do the employees ; though the heads of households live a little more luxuriously, add ing, to the above bills of fare, wheaten-bread and tea. As AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 291 to the wealthy and the great, they can live as luxuriously as- they choose ; their patrician purses giving them, when they will it, — " A table richly spread, in regal mode ; With dishes piled, and meats of noblest sort And savor, — beasts of chase, or fowl of game, — (In pastry built, or from the spit, or boiled,) Gris-amber steamed; all fish, from sea or shore, Freshet or purling brook, of shell or fin, And exquisite name." Yet the simple food of the hard-working laborer seems to suit the human system quite as well as all the rich viands of the opulent epicure ; at least he looks altogether as healthy, and ordinarily is as strong as his luxuriously fed neighbor. As to the curiosities of the region from which I am ad dressing you, I observe that, so far as I am aware, they are not very numerous. There are, however, some things to which I will briefly direct your attention. On the northern coast of Donegal County, west of Mulroy Bay, there is a district: named Doe. In it, where the North Atlantic rolls in its billows, there is a rock on the verge of the deep ; in which rock there is a hole slanting upward. The waves roll into the cavity constituting the lower part of this hole, and this more particularly at a certain stage of the tide, and when the sea is angry and raised ; compressing and pushing before them a large quantity of air, which having no other vent than said huge rock-tube rushes up it, producing a powerful suction, and carrying along a great mass of water, — this watery mass being thrown to a great height in the atmosphere, and scattered over the neighboring land. This strange piece of natural water-machinery is called Doe-gun. I have heard its hoarse mutterings and deep, hollow sighs, ¦before a storm, (at which time it is known that the air is in a state favorable to the transmission of sounds,) twenty miles. But I remark that just lately an attempt was made to stop the aperture, though without success, the next storm burst ing through all impediments, and, while tearing through these, widening the mouth of the gun so that the report cannot henceforth be heard to near so great a distance as formerly. I would remark that the spouting cave on the western coast of Iona would seem to be something of the same character. Again, on the County Derry side of the 292 TRAVELS IN PRANCE Bann, at a considerable distance from the river, and several miles from Ccderaine, I have seen a huge Druidical stone, of the kind of stones named cromlechs. This cromlech stands among some dwarf oaks, and is poised on three stones as supports. It must weigh very many tons ; and how the Druids succeeded in moving it, so as to place under it its supports, is to me dark. Perhaps, however, this huge rock was placed there by Nature in one of her vagaries, that the soil was gradually dug away, and that the stones pillaring it up were placed, during the process of the removal of the clay, where they stand. It is well known that the cromlech is mostly put in a Druidical circle, and, since in northern Europe it is called a blood-stone, it is inferred that each one was a Druidical altar. Again, in the southern region of Donegal there is a lake of about nine miles in circumfer ence, named Lough Derg, which has been so long visited, as a place of pilgrimage, by Catholics, that it ought not to be passed by. Indeed, a very learned book, now lying before me, incidentally mentions a French Ambassador to Scotland visiting it three hundred and ten years ago. It is said even now to be sometimes visited by as many as eighteen thou sand devotees in a year. In an islet of this lake, one hun dred and twenty-six yards long by forty-four broad, there is a cave of sixteen feet in length, of two in width, and of such a height that a man cannot stand erect in it. While all things connected with Lough Derg are held in great reverence by the multitude, it is this islet and this cavern that are the chief seats of sanctity. And for nearly fourteen hundred years they have sustained this character, having been the theatre of wonders and prodigies as early as the days of the younger Patricius ; and even now, in connection with them, are supposed to be performed the most extraordinary mira cles of healing that can be dreamed of. Again, in the line of curiosities, the circumstance is deserving of being noticed that, in a remote part of the County of Donegal, some red deer are still to be found. These animals, once exceedingly numerous in Irish forests and mountains, are now, in the island, nearly extinct. Some few, however, are still to be found around the lakes of Killarney in Kerry, in a remote district of Cork, at Shanbally in Tipperary, and, as I have just men tioned, in one neighborhood in the wild parts of Donegal. — Moreover,( and the only thing under this head, in addition AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 293 to what I have said, to which I will refer,) the numerous old castles spread over this district are worthy of considera ble attention. Thus, there are still to be seen, on the sum mit of a small mountain rising from the southern shore of Lough Swilly, the remains of that old Castle called Aileach, (the Eagle's Nest,) once the palace of the princes of this part of the North of Ireland, who, in it, dwelt from heathen times down to the beginning of the twelfth century, when the monarch Murkertach destroyed it, endeavoring, in his spite, to carry away the very stones on his pack-horses. Then there are the remains of many old Danish forts, as also of many old castles which, though built a very long time after the destruction of the one just spoken of, have been long in ruins. The Danish forts, (or raths, as they were called,) were always erected on the tops of hills, and in sight of each other, so that, in case of a rising of the Hibernians against their Scandinavian conquerors, signals might be given, in a brief time, to the entire body of Scandinavian settlers. The oldest, after the Eagle's Nest, of the old ruined castles that I saw, (it having probably been raised in one of the reigns of the Henrys,) was that of the O'Dohertys, — the ancient proprietors of Ennishowen, — which was de stroyed, in 1608, in consequence of the young chief, Sir Cahir O'Doherty, then only in his twentieth year, having seized the stronghold of Derry, and massacred the garrison therein ; a deed perpetrated by him partly in revenge for a blow given him by its governor, and partly from his sympa thy with the refugee earls, Tyrone and Tyrconnel. Many castles, but of a later age, the days of Elizabeth and the First James, still stand. Not far from St. Johnstown, be tween Derry and Lifford, stands Mongevlin Castle, in which James II. was entertained during his presence at the siege of Derry. Then Castledoe stands about three miles from Dunfannahy, still a comfortable, as it is a spacious mansion. This old edifice has quite a history connected with it. We find it to have been in existence in the reign of Elizabeth. It is matter of history that, in 1603, it was occupied for the Yiceroy by a garrison of one hundred soldiers. Four or five years subsequent to this, in the brief insurrection that then took place in the counties with respect to which I am writing, it was captured by certain of the hostile septs. Of it, in this period of its history, Sir John Davies says, in a 24* 294 TRAVELS IN FRANCE letter written in August, 1608, that it was the strongest hold in all the Province of Ulster, but that it had lately sur rendered to the Marshal, (Sir Richard Wingfield, Marshal of the Army,) after having received one hundred blows of the demi-cannon. Amid the tragical transactions of 1641, it was abandoned by the Protestants, (who had had the pos session of it,) but was subsequently, after a brief interval, recovered by them. It was here, in the summer of 1642, that that eminent soldier, Owen O'Neil, landed, when return ing from the Spanish and Imperial service, to take part in the civil war commencing, at that time, in Ireland. In 1650, it was in consequence of one thousaud men having been sent to reduce it, (and at the same time to collect provisions,) while Colonel Venables brought one thousand men to strengthen the English Parliamentary army under Coote, that MacMahon,.at the head of the larger portion of the relics of Owen O'Neil's army, — O'Neil having died the year before, — lost the sanguinary battle of Letterkenny. And, during the wars of the British Revolution and while Derry was besieged by the army of James, it was held for Wil- ' liam III. ; being a place furnishing a safe retreat to distin guished adherents of the revolution, and by means of which a communication by shipping was kept np, by the Whigs of the North of Ireland, with the sister island. I would add that though these counties are full of old castellated structures, almost all of which have some historical associa tions linked with them, what I have said must suffice as to such things. Of the towns in the counties with respect to which I am writing to you, the most important are Derry, Coleraine, Magherafelt, Maghera, Newtonlimavaddy, and Dungiven, in the County of Derry, and Lifford, Ballyshannon, Letterkenny, Rathmelton, Donegal, Raphoe, Buncranna, and Dunfannahy, in the County of Donegal. Of any of all these towns, I will, not, in particular say anything, except in relation to the place from which I now write to you, the City of Derry, which may be regarded as the capital of both counties. Derry, or Londonderry, stands on the north bank of the River Foyle, at the head of navigation for large shipping. The number of its inhabitants is about twenty thousand, and it is a place highly commercial in proportion to its popula tion. It is situated on the top of a considerable hill, and is AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 295 surrounded with what was once a strong wall, though now decayed from age. Around most of the wall, (which is bas- tioned,) a carriage might drive, and, on the side of the city most exposed to an enemy's fire, two carriages might easily pass each other. This wall, which furnishes a noble prome nade, is, I suppose, about a mile in circuit. On it are now only to be seen two pieces of ordnance, these lying on the bas tion facing where had been the main camp of the army of the last ofthe Stuarts. In the centre of the space enclosed is a con siderable square paved, and surrounded by excellent houses, which square is named the Diamond ; and from it four main streets lead to the four gates by which the city is entered, — Ship Quay Street, and Bishop's Street, which are in a straight line, being at right angles with Ferry Quay Street, and Butch er's Street, which, the one with the other, also form a straight line. These are the four main streets, and they are well built ; Ship Quay Street being as well built as any one of the best streets on either continent. The other streets of the city, both within and without the walls, are also respec tably built. Though there are no superb edifices there are several yery good and substantial ones. The cathedral, a Gothic pile without transepts, built in 1633, (having been reared, if I mistake not, to succeed a church built in connec tion with the Monastery of Doire-Calgaich, founded by Co- lumb-kil about 546,) stands first. Its spire is very lofty and gives the city, to one approaching it, along with other things that contribute to the same effect, a grand appearance. The bishop's palace is a spacious and substantial edifice. The court-house and jail are fine structures. And at a little below the city, situated in a large lawn and on the bank of the river, is the edifice of the high-school, one of the best, as it is one of the best endowed, classical and mathematical seminaries in either island. The stranger visiting Derry will view with attention the bridge built of wood, a thousand and sixty-eight feet in length, and, in the centre, with a swi vel arch for the passage of small ships. Strange to say, un like similar structures with you, it is without roof; and thus must be exceedingly liable to rot from the weather. He will also look with interest at the monument erected, about thirty years ago, in honor of Governor Walker, who was a main defender of the city in 1689. — With respect to the history of Derry, I will mention only a few of the more important facts. 296 TRAVELS IN PRAKCE As early as 546, (as I stated just above,) a monastery was founded by Columb-kil where Derry now stands ; around which, no doubt, soon grew up a rude town. Six hundred years after this, in 1158, this town was erected into the seat of a regular Episcopal See. Again, it was converted, in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, into a plantation town, by the Honorable Sir Henry Docwra who fortified it, and not long after this, in May, 1603, we learn that the garrison main tained in it amounted to three hundred and fifty men. Next, a little later than the date just given, in 1608, when Sir George Paulet was governor, it andits castle were surprised by the young chief of Ennishowen, (of whom I spoke above,) who took them by storm, slaying the garrison, and destroy ing everything that Docwra had done. Subsequently, it was re-built and re-fortified by certain London societies which, to the old Celtic name, prefixed that of their own great metropolis. Since that time, it has sustained two sieges. In it, in 1649, Sir Charles Coote's army, which had espoused the side of the Rump Parliament, was besieged, for five months, by the Presbyterian party of the surrounding country, and this though Coote himself was a ruling elder in Derry : at the end of this time, however, the siege was raised, the general and officers ofthe beleaguered force, hav ing' entered into stipulations with Owen O'Neil, (the Gene ral of the Catholics,) who came to their aid with four thou sand foot and three hundred horse, and compelled the in vestment to be abandoned. And, following this siege at the distance of forty years, in 1689, — having declared for the Prince of Orange and the revolution. — it was besieged, from April 18th to the 31st of July, by the army of James II. , con sisting of Jacobite Irish, and of a body of French soldiery, in alliance. This latter siege, on account of the vast inter ests at stake, the strength of the besieging army, and the bravery and almost incredibly patient endurance of the evils of war, pestilence, and famine, on the part of the besieged, is one of the most memorable on record. In writing to you in relation to the two counties of which I have already said so much, I ought not entirely to pass without notice the names of such men born in them, as have risen to some degree of celebrity in the world. Situated in a remote part of the British Islands, this region has been little prolific in men of this sort; yet there have been some AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 291 few who deserve mention. In very remote times, he having been born about a.d. 521, here Columb-kil, {t. i. Columb ofthe Churches,) had his origin. From a comparison of the best authorities, it would seem that he first saw the light at the little place called Gartin near the town of Letterkenny. Few men have been more useful in the world, or given more deeply the impress of their own characters to their own and to future generations, than this man ; the apostle of a com paratively pure Christianity to the Highlands, and Western Isles, of Scotland, (the inhabitants of which, before his day, were Pagans,) and the founder of the celebrated monastery and school of Iona ; to which isle, — from him named, also, Icolmkill — in their deep reverence for his memory, (and of which I speaji as being a testimony to his vast influence,) the lords of the Isles, four Irish kings, eight Norwegian kings, a French king, and forty-eight Scottish kings, had their bodies borne to be buried. It is worthy of remark that Duncan, whose fame has been spread all over the world by Shakspeare's tragedy of Macbeth, was the last Scottish king whose mortal remains, (in the eleventh century,) were, — in the words of the great poet just named, — " Carried to Colmeskill ; The sacred storehouse of his predecessors, And guardian of their bones." Passing from these very far-off days over a very long inter val, (of more than eleven hundred years,) I would next men tion the name of a man whose memory must always be asso ciated with the planting on the Western Continent of an influential branch of the Christian Church. I speak of the Rev. Francis McKemy, the first Presbyterian minister who settled in America. This venerable man, who was a na tive of the County of Donegal, where he was licensed, and where, as a licentiate, he preached for a brief time, went across the Atlantic toward the close of the reign of Charles II. Families of the name of McKemy still reside here near the Hamlet of Ballindrate, (which is about two miles from Lifford,) and at Morus Ferry, beside the Hamlet of Rosnakil, on the northwestern side of the mouth of Swilly Bay. It is likely that these two sets of people, judging from the name, were originally the same ; though their connection must have been far back, since all tradition of it has been 298 TRAVELS IN PRANCE lost. They are very ancient inhabitants of the region in which they dwell ; so old that, on inquiry of one of the Mo ras Ferry McKemys, I learned there was among them no tradion of their ancestors having lived anywhere else but where they are now living. Indeed, it is not impossible that, of the various races now inhabiting the North of Ireland, they belong to the oldest. At all events, I have never heard of families, either in North or South Britain, which bore this name. After the man of whom I have just been speak ing, I may, by way of contrast, mention John Tolafld and George Farquhar. Toland, who was born in 1 669, was a man of vast erudition, which, it is to be lamented, he perverted to the support of irreligion and infidelity. Yet, by his bio graphy of Milton, he performed such a serviqp to literature as should not be soon forgotten. Farquhar, born in this city in 1678, is celebrated as one of the first who succeeded as a writer of miscellanies, and more especially as the richest in invention, the sprightliest, and the wittiest of comic poets. After these men, I will only speak of one other, a military man, General Richard Montgomery, who fell, in the war of the American Revolution, in his attempt, on behalf of the colonies whose commission he bore, to take Quebec by storm. This man, who, as a soldier, was not surpassed in bravery and skill, was born at Convoy, (not far from Raphoe,) at the family seat of the Montgomerys. His brother, Colonel Montgomery, long represented the County of Donegal in the Irish Parliament. And a branch of the family, of which he was a member, still owns the fine property which had been possessed by his ancestors. With respect to the state of education in that large dis trict of which this city may be regarded as the capital, (to wit, Derry and Donegal,) I observe that it is about what it is in other parts of the North of Ireland. There are com mon schools everywhere ; some of them excellent, and others very defective. Especially are the school-houses often shamefully lacking in their architecture and accommoda tions. Yet the schools are always sustained throughout the year, and the school teachers are usually, instead of leading lives of vagrancy, as is often the case in America, perma nently kept employed in the same school. With respect to the higher branches, there is perhaps no district in the world more favored, on the whole, than this. The high-schools of AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 299 this city and Raphoe are unsurpassed. There are, also, several excellent academies in other places. There are, however, some capital defects in these seminaries, to which I would make reference. One is, not that too much attention is paid to the Latin and Greek classics, but that they are allowed to take the foreway of mathematics ; the knowledge of words being thus put before that of things. Another de fect is that Hebrew is scarcely attended to at all. Also, I think that general knowledge should be more attended to, con junctly with speaking and writing in the English tongue. In connection with what I have said of the region that I have been telling you about, you will permit me to travel somewhat out of my way to say something of a certain an cient district of great historical celebrity, lying to the east of the counties in relation to which I am addressing you ; a district through which I have journeyed with much interest. The territory, of which I speak, consisted of the northwest, north, and part of the south, of what is now the County of Antrim, and was, in very remote days, named Dalriada.* This territory was separated from the more eastern of the counties that I have made the subject of this epistle by only the River Bann, and had with them a very intimate in^r- course. It is well known to all readers of history that there was also another and more famous Dalriada in Caledonia, comprehending Argyle, Cantyre, and the adjacent territo ries, with most of the Western Isles. The inhabitants of both the Dalriadas belonged to that particular race of peo ple known, in very early times, as the Scoti. These people were unknown, or at least they had not attained any promi nence, in Ireland, about the middle of the second century, or they would have been named in Ptolemy's map. Neither were they known in Scotland in the time of Agricola, (in the first century,) else they would have been mentioned by Taci tus in his biography of this commander. They are first mentioned in classical history by Ammianus Marcellinus about the year 340. The question has been greatly dis cussed as to which side of the North Channel has the better claim to be regarded as their first seat in the British Islands. In regard to this point, which, however, is of very trifling moment, I would make only a few cursory remarks. First, all the traditions and historical records of the Scoti of North Britain trace back their origin to Ireland, while none of the 300 TRAVELS IN PRANCE traditions of the Hibernian Scoti refer to their having come from any part of Britain, but from, the continent. Secondly, the first seat of the princes of the Caledonian Scoti, with their people, was in Argyleshire, opposite the Irish Dalriada, and not on .the eastern side of Scotland ; a circumstance pointing to Ireland, rather than to the continent, for their origin. Again, Scotland was not called Scotia till after the year 1000, but usually Caledonia and Albania, while Ireland was spoken of, from the third till the eleventh century, by this appellation ; and it is not unreasonable to suppose that that is the first seat of a people, which is the prior home of their name. That it was Ireland, and not Scotland, that, dur ing this time, was denominated Scotia, I will cite onlya single proof to establish, and that proof only a partial one. Al- cuin, the preceptor of Charlemange, in his " Life of Willi- brord," speaks of him as one "to whom fertile Britain gave birth, and whom learned Ireland instructed in sacred studies ;" and, repeating this statement in other words, he says, " Fertile Britain, as I have already noticed in my verse, was his parent soil, the country of the Scots his noble in structress." Besides, — as another argument to prove that the. Scoti of Scotland emigrated from Ireland, — I cite Bede, (born about the year 672,) who affirms the thing in so many words, and he had means of information whieti place his authority far above all the reasonings of any modern : he says of Ireland, in his Ecclesiastical History, " This is, pro perly speaking, the country of the Scots : emigrating from this, they added in Britain a third nation to the Britons and Picts." According to this view, the race that finally rose to have the supremacy in North Britain, (and from which the race of monarchs that now rules over the British Islands draws its remote descent,) was a colony that came to Scot land, from Dalriada in Ireland, about the middle of the third century ; which colony being strengthened, about the year 503, by another colony from the same country, formed itself into an independent kingdom, the people of which were called the Albanian Scots or Caledonian Dalriads. And here let me remark that, according to the antiquarian lore of the Scotch, the stone of which I told you in my letter in reference to Westminster Abbey, (that stone weighing, as I judge from looking at it cursorily, five or six pounds, which was carried off by Edward I. from Scone, and over which AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 301 the kings are still crowned,) was taken, by the colonists, along with them, in the second emigration of the Dalriads, spoken of just now. If there be any truth in this story, it must originally have been, to the wild men who once dwelt in the neighboring county of Antrim, an object of worship in those days when fetichism prevailed among them ; and, perhaps, at first, what was alluded to in the prince being crowned upon it, was that he ruled jure divino, — the stone beneath his coronation chair being the deity from which he claimed to derive this high authority. It now only remains that I give you a succinct view of the history of these counties. In very remote days, the district composed ofthe counties of Derry and Donegal was the seat of a race of princes. As Emania (near the modern Armagh) was the seat of the prince who ruled over the whole or most of the modern Ulster, so Aileach, (which I above defined to mean the Eagle's Nest,) situated on a small mountain on the southern shore of Swilly Bay, was the seat of those princes who were called the Hy-Nials, and who ruled, whether with an indepen dent or a subordinate sway I do not pretend to decide, over at least a part of the territory of the shires concerning which I have been writing to you ; and this from a date reaching far back into the days of Paganism. Of the state, for very many centuries, of this region of the island, and of the events by which its condition was affected, we know scarcely any thing beyond a few prominent facts. Yet some of these are very important, and deserve from the historian, indeed de mand from him, a notice. The first thing that is worthy of being mentioned is the general introduction of Christianity. This occurred a little before the close of the fifth century, and was mainly owing to the labors of the younger Patricius, the nephew, it is said, of th« great apostle of Ireland, Soon after this, — not much more than half a century after,-^-occurred the everrto-be-re- membered missionary labors of Columb-kil, (whom we above mentioned as a native of this region,) among the inhabitants of North Britain. Next, our attention is drawn to the ravages of the Norse men who, about the close of the eighth or the beginning of the ninth century, began their long-continued inroads on these coasts ; seeking not only plunder, but also the destruction of 25 302 TRAVELS IN FRANCE every vestige of Christianity, and frequently establishing settlements in the places plundered by them. Nothing meets us, worthy of being mentioned, from this time down to 1134, when occurred the invasion of O'Brian of Munster, who completely vanquished the chief that then reigned in Aileach, and entirely laid waste this palace so that it never was rebuilt. Not long after this castigation of the Hy-Nials by the men of Munster, occurred the first invasion of the northern part of Ireland by the Anglo-Normans, who, in 1177, under De Courcy, subdued most or all of the country to the east of the River Bann. Nevertheless, they seem never to have entered the territory with respect to which I am writing. Nearly thirty years after this, in 1203,' occurred a some thing which, though unimportant in itself, deserves a record, because of the celebrated place which was the theatre on which it happened. Difficulties, of an ecclesiastical nature, having turned up among the residents of Iona, a small ex pedition was sent thither at the instigation of the bishops of Derry and Raphoe with their clergy ; which expedition was, of course, successful. I said above that the Anglo-Normans had left the coun ties of Derry and Donegal entirely unmeddled with, in their invasion of the North, but, though this was the case, the chiefs of these counties seem to have given to the Yiceroy of the English king a partial and qualified allegiance. Thus, in 1303, we find a general convention of the great men of Ireland assembled, (regular parliaments having not yet come into use,) in attendance on which we discover O'Donell,— styled Duke of Tyrconnel, — a thing that clearly indicates, along with other circumstances, that the territory from which he came had yielded a submission of some sort to the central government. From this time, little, in the series of events in these coun ties, adapted to afford materials to the annalist, is to be met with till the reign of Henry VIII. In.it commenced the Protestant Reformation in Ireland, (as had also been the case in England,) Dr. George Brown, Archbishop of Dublin, having, in 1536, brought the Palian Parliament to discard the supremacy of the Pope. To this enactment O'Donell, in behalf of his territory, gave in his adhesion in 1542 ; also agreeing to persevere in yielding allegiance to the monarch, AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 303 (who hitherto had been merely styled lord-paramount,) under his newly assumed title of King of Ireland. He, at the same time, had bestowed on him the title of Earl of Tyrconnel. The concession as to religion, on the part of O'Donell, was, however, far from being ratified by his vassals and by the clergy of the region under his jurisdiction or influ ence. Thus, in 1545, we find Robert Waucop, who, in 1541, had introduced the order of Jesuits into the island, bringing the French Ambassador to Scotland into private communi cation, in Donegal, with O'Doherty, one of O'Donell's vas sals; (as well as with the Earl of Tyrone;) the subject discussed between them being a French invasion of the country. And, in 1550, Tyrconnel himself, having receded from his engagement to the royal government, pledged, with a French emissary, his faith in an alliance with France. In these circumstances, the territory, with regard to which I am writing, remained in a state approaching to indepen dence in relation to the central authority, so that Tyrcon nel never appeared in Parliament, and that the bishops of Derry and Raphoe did not acknowledge the sovereign as patron, and were not summoned, at least for a long time, to take their seats in that body. Indeed, the clergy remained as zealous for. Rome as ever, and this perhaps without an exception. In accordance with this state of things, Donald Magonell, Bishop of Raphoe, occupied, in 1563, a seat in the Council of Trent. At length, the patience of the Vice roy being worn out by the long-continued contumacy of Tyrconnel and his brother chiefs, and a general revolt being thought by no means improbable, he, in 1588, by a ruse un doubtedly at once dishonorable and impolitic, siezed on Tyr- connel's son, and immured him as a hostage in the Castle of Dublin. Thence, soon escaping, this young man quickly brought his father's territory, and all, besides, whom he could influence, into an alliance with the Earl of Tyrone, the great champion of the prescriptive rights of the sept- chiefs against the gradually extending authority of the king's representative and of Parliament. Upon this Tyrone, thus strengthened, at once assumed an attitude of defiance in relation to the central government. In this way began a civil war which spread itself over the three provinces of Ulster, Munster, and Connaught, more especially the two former provinces, and which lasted, with varied fortunes, not far 304 TRAVELS IN PRANCE from six years; ; And, strange to say, when 'it did terminate, the insurgent chiefs were left in possession of all their lands and honors. Indeed, its main result was the total devasta tion and depopulation of the North. Not very long after this pacification, (only aboutthree or four years after,) Tyrconnel, in connection with the old leader of the iUlster men, Tyrone, again joined in a treasonable league against the Vice-regal government. This plot, how ever,, being discovered, he fled, in 1607, along with Tyrone, to the continent. And in the very next year occurred the rebellion of the chief of Ennishowen. In consequence of the course of events, of which I have been giving an account, — the flight and subsequent out lawry Of the Earl of Tyrconnel, and the rebellion of the Ennishowen chief, — very many thousand acres of laud in Derry and Donegal were put at the disposal of the crown. And from this time a new order of things is to be dated. This region had never been thickly inhabited, and the late war, with its wasting desolations, had carried off a large por tion of the small population. In these circumstances there was an abundance of room for the introduction of English, Scotch| Welch, and Palian settlers. Accordingly a new population was added to the old. Farmhouses, mills, man sions, castles, villages, and towns, were built. Shires were erected, sheriffs were appointed, and courts of law esta blished. Along with the liew settlers came the Reformed religion, and academies and schools, (Romanism, at the same time, and not till then, having been completely dises tablished,) and many persons of the old population, — espe cially from the smaller and oppressed septs, — fell in with the new order of things, there being, of those who did so, some few of : the clergy. :, From this time these counties have pos sessed a flourishing agriculture, and flourishing towns and boroughs, with a thrifty and happy race of inhabitants, in an equal proportion, with almost any other territory of equal extent in the British Islands. Thefaet is this was the great crisis in their history, and between about 1609" and about 1625, (the latter year being that in which James I. died,) was laid the foundation of the character which tbey have since sustained. In the war which commenced with the terrible and guilty slaughter of 1641, the population here, of all descents, and AND THE BRITISH ISDANDS. 305 both of the Protestant and Roman Catholic religions, was very active ; the Catholics sustaining the party of the Con federate Catholics, and the Protestants sympathizing mostly not with the Royalists headed by the Marquis of Ormond, but with the party in Ireland that connected itself directly with the English Parliamentarians. Indeed, during this war these counties were the theatre of several severe battles, — espe cially that fought near Letterkenny, on the 21st of June, 1650, between the English Parliamentarians and the relics of Owen O'Neal's army, — of innumerable skirmishes, and of an important siege, that of Derry, above spoken of. In the wars of the .British Revolution, near the close of the seventeenth century, this region was, for a considerable time, the grand theatre on which the belligerent parties struggled for the supremacy. The Protestant population, which had now come to possess the almost entire control, were the zealous advocates, with exceptions by no means very numerous, of the Revolution, while the Catholics gene rally, from a recollection of the confiscations of ninety years before, felt but little zeal for the house of Stuart. In these circumstances, the Protestants made that defence of the City of Londonderry against the powerful army of Jacobite Irish, and of French, sent against it by King James; which de fence has forever associated the name of Londonderry with whatever is courageous, patiently enduring, and honorable. Nor was this great siege the sole military event that in these counties occurred. In almost every neighborhood there was a skirmish, ahd sometimes a battle. Again, after the lapse of ninety years, when Ireland was threatened with invasion by the King of France, and when no regular army could be spared for its protection, this district of the North was one most forward in the island in assist ing to muster that army of volunteers, which (menace of foreign aggression having passed away) did not lay down its arms till it had won for the nation an enlargement of religious liberty and a complete legislative independence. ' This army, which had its beginning in Belfast, in March, 1778, and which did not disband till the March of 1793, and which at one time numbered upwards of 150,000 effective men, is an anomaly in the history of armies, having been entirely independent of governmental control. Indeed the existence of such an armed association cannot be justified on any other ground 25* 306 TRAVELS IN FRANCE than that the political condition of this country was then such as to make her an exception to all general rules. I would remark that I have learned from eye-witnesses that, among the very last volunteers that ceased from parading, were to be found companies in these counties. Nor was there anywhere greater reluctance manifested in regard to disbanding than was displayed here, this reluctance having grown out ofthe still unreformed state of the national repre sentation and out of the illiberality of the laws still on the statute book as to the civil rights of those religionists re fusing to be embraced in the Church Establishment. It is well known to all acquainted.with Irish history that, some time before the disbanding of the volunteers, another association, that became more formidable than the volunteers had been, had come into existence, the society of the United Irishmen. This celebrated body had its rise in the autumn of 1790, in Belfast, and assumed, in the next year, preten sions to nationality by establishing itself in the capital. At first it was an open association consisting of affiliated clubs, but eventually became, in consequence of persecuting inter ference on the part of the government, an immense concate nation of oath-bound societies holding their meetings only in the presence of the members. Into the counties from which 1 write to you, the organization of the United Men was not introduced till after the suppression and disarming of the volunteers ; but, almost immediately after this, it was introduced by some volunteer officers. I may observe that it may not be amiss to mention the man, — a man of large fortune inherited from his ancestors, — who was the most influential agent in this, — Mr. Irveen, — a man of talents and honorable character. In 1796, when Hoche's fleet and army, in fulfillment of the engagement of the Revolutionary Government of France to the Irish Reformers and Revolutionists, sought the shores of Ireland, these counties, along with the rest of Ulster, were prepared to 'give him not only an amicable reception, but an active co-operation. At that time, a large portion Of the population were enrolled as the sworn opponents of the oligarchical government then in being. The fact is, the storm, .that scattered the expedition of the republican- gene ral, and caused its total failure, was felt by the Irish nation generally to be a great misfortune to their island ; and here AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 307 the disappointment of the people, in consequence of the turn of affairs referred to, was as great as anywhere else. If Hoche had succeeded in landing his army, and if he had been supported by a strong army of the Irish Reformers, (which, no doubt, would have been the case,) what the re sult of the contest would have been is hard to be conjec tured. Early in the next year, several men in Donegal and Derry, who had been very active in organizing a revolution, left the country precipitately. Of these I may name two citizens of Derry, William Moore, (a merchant,) and Dr. Ferguson, (a physician,) who went to America, and the man above named who went to France. Also, not very far from the time of the flight of these men, there retired, (one of them a little before it, and the other a little after,) from the ranks of the United Men, two men who had hitherto been adherents of the revolutionary movement, — Samuel and Robert Floyd, the former a farmer, and the latter bred a lawyer. The retire ment of both these last-named men was in consequence of orders' being transmitted to them from the heads of the revo lutionary organization, by attempting to comply with which they had involved themselves in serious difficulties, and of which, upon mature reflection, they could not approve. Robert Floyd gave security for his future loyal behavior, and Samuel, (who* as early as January, had had difficulty with the neighboring Bench of Magistrates as to his connec tion with this general business,) on the issuing of Lord Camden's order, of the 3d of March, for the disarming of the disaffected, was disarmed; he, at the same time, ceasing to take any part in the proceedings of those maintaining an attitude of opposition to the government. Partly as the result of these transactions, but mainly in consequence of dis appointment flowing from the failure of Hoche's. armament, both these counties (either contemporaneously with the oc currences recited, or soon after,) fell off from all connection with the leaders of the United Men in Dublin ; these being still intent on urging on a revolution. Two or three months, however, after the occurrence of some of these things, a letter in relation to some pecuniary business of Samuel Floyd was forwarded to Mr. Patterson, of Baltimore, who, before leaving Ireland, had been his asso ciate and school-fellow ; which letter was to be forwarded to 308 TRAVELS IN FRANCE France, (to the care of one of the Irish refugees in that country,) where the person addressed was understood to be. In this accidental way, a correspondence in relation to the proceedings of the Irish Reformers was opened from these counties with persons in contact with the French Republic, a correspondence which, with periods of interruption, did not entirely cease till some time subsequent to the death of Thomas Russell in 1803 ; the letters from Ireland being sent through the mail, (as common letters to the United States,) to Mr. Patterson, and those in reply by such means as the French government could most conveniently put at the com mand of those persons writing. It must have been about the time at which this letter reached France, or some time not long either preceding or subsequent to it, that, in a memorial of Dr. McNevin of Dublin, to the then government of France, Swilly Bay, in Donegal, or Oyster Haven, in the south, was recommended as the landing-place of any succors sent by the French Re public to Ireland. In recommending Swilly Bay, those, by whose direction McNevin made the recommendation, must have mainly calculated on the characteristic stubborn hos tility of the people of Derry and Donegal to the corrupt and nnreformed Irish government of that time, as the source from which the foreign force invited would obtain supplies and reinforcements, since the clubs of the United Men here had been, for some time, with scarcely an exception, dor mant. They knew, however, that the inhabitants of this region of Ireland had very extensively been zealous United Men, and that from their character, so long as grievances remained unredressed, they were not likely to change their view's. They knew that of the three hundred members of the Irish Commons, two hundred and fifteen were still re turned by one hundred and five individuals, and only seventy-two by the people; the remaining thirteen belonging to the debatable border-land lying between the constituencies of the oligarchy and those of the nation. They knew that his collar still galled the shoulders ofthe Dissenter, and that the Catholic still clanked his chain. And they knew that to these things had been lately added, on the side of the ruling party, (a party very weak in numbers, but very strong in political power,) the resorting to a system of coercion to support their system of combined corruption and oppression. AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 309 Probably it was in consequence of the recommendation, in the memorial spoken of, of Swilly Bay, as a suitable har bor for the French expedition to land in, that, in the'answer returned to the letter on private business, which, I said above, had been sent to France by the way of America, it was urged that the revolutionary clubs should be revived, and that the leading men among the United Men should be consulted as to the coming of the French, and pledged to march immediately the men under their influence to their support. Yielding to these counsels in view of the state of public affairs, and of the reasonable prospect of success held out to them, (as well as suffering themselves to be impelled by the lately assumed personally insulting deportment ofthe hangers-on of the oligarchy,) — but not till after a period of reflection, — the two men mentioned above as having retired from any connection with the revolutionary organization, allowed themselves to be again drawn into the headlong torrent of revolutionary proceedings. The clubs were re vived ; (but henceforth, instead of meetings, the members were advised with apart;) and the leading United Men in the Counties of Donegal and Derry were consulted as to the coming of the armaifient from France. Also, the head of the military department of the United Men in Ireland opened a correspondence with the chiefs of the revived or ganization, military commissions from this department were distributed, and a part of the skeleton of an Irish revolu tionary army,; — to co-operate with the force expeeted from France, — was formed. " So long as Hoche lived he had been the French general destined to command the expedition to this island. He died in September, 1797. Shortly after his death, General Daendels, at the head. of an army from Holland, sought to carry assistance to the Irish patriots, (the north, as near Belfast as possible, being the point at which he aimed ;) but AdmiraLDuncan's victory (of October 11th of said year) entirely frustrated the Dutch attempt. In these circum stances, expectation was turned to the youthful conqueror of Italy.: That he was urged to come to Ireland, during the period of his holding the command of the army intended by his government for the invasion of England, is Certain ; — to which command he was appointed in the latter part of 1191 ; — viewing, as he did, the direct invasion of England, 310 TRAVELS IN PRANCE at that time, as too hazardous. That he gave sufficient encouragement, at least for a brief time, either during his exercise of this command, or previous to entering on it, to raise the expectation, in the party thoroughly hostile to the oligarchy, that he would come hither, is likewise, to me, cer tain. By letter, through the channel spoken of above, this. expectation had been, at least in part, originated among the Irish people. And in view of this expectation, at the insti gation of the British ministers, he was libeled to the Catho lics of Ireland, in widely spread rumors, as having, during the progress of his victories in Italy, seized the Pope by his gray hairs, and thus dragged him over the marble floor of his palace ; a story that subsequently was more than once revived. And, of this idea of his coming hither, thus set afloat, he adroitly availed himself, to the perplexing of the British cabinet, when he was about to sail for Egypt ; India, the Black Sea, the Thames, and Ireland, being all reported as each of them the point to which the mysterious armament was to sail. In relation to his connection with the affairs of Ireland just then, we only know, as to the particulars, (and these have been given us but vaguely,) what passed be tween him and Theobald W. Tom? ; what communications soever he had with other Irish refugees, whom he may have permitted to wait upon him, they having, so far as I am in formed in regard to the matter, perished through death or other casualties, except as to the single general statement made by me above. Mr. Tone assured Napoleon that, if he would pass to Ireland with an army which, along with the force the United Irishmen could raise, should be adequate to the liberation of the country, (Tone's opinion was that such a force must amount to twenty thousand men,) he would be welcomed by a population of four millions. Napoleon, how ever, who had come to view the scheme of Egypt, — whose success, he conceived, would render the Mediterranean a French lake, — as superior to every other, affected to think, by the response that he made, that Tone could only promise to him two millions in Ireland. Said he in reply, "Your population is but two millions." Further, the light in which, through a part of the time referred to in the preced ing remarks, he viewed Ireland, may be gathered from his own words to the Executive Directory, "What more do you want from the Irish ? They form a powerful diversion AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 311 in your favor." Yet he lived, as we learn from the memoirs of Las Casas, to say on St Helena, in relation to his course at this exigency, "If, instead of the expedition to Egypt, I had undertaken that against Ireland, * * * * what could England have done now ? On such chances do the destinies of empires depend." General Bonaparte sailed for Egypt on May 20, 1798. Previous to this, the schemes of the great party opposed, in Ireland, to the oligarchy, and to England as the patron and defender of that oligarchy, had been fast running to ruin. Five hundred thousand men, of whom three hundred thou sand were -capable of bearing arms, — more than seventy thousand of these, according to a computation made, having been trained in the corps of the old volunteers, — had united in a sworn league, while, of the disciplined soldiery in active service in the country, one-third were favorable to the league ; yet all this vast organization, after years of toil and of great personal risk, was now, through treachery, about tumbling down around the ears of its constructors. On the 12th of March, thirteen ofthe leaders of the United Men in Leinster were, on the information of Reynolds of Kilkea Castle, to gether arrested in Dublin, and, on the 19th of May, Lord Edward Fitzgerald, the head of the military department of the body in Ireland, after receiving a mortal wound, was also made prisoner. Though, after this, the project was prosecuted under new leaders in the room of those seized upon, it had now lost one of the mainsprings of its energy. Then followed, on the 23d of May, risings of half-armed men in districts of the counties around Dublin. Immediately after this beginning, on May 27th, commenced the terrible insurrection of the Southeast. And next, in connection with these movements, beginning on the 7th and 8th of June, occurred a brief but well-sustained struggle in parts of two counties of the Northeast. I may remark that in none of these trials of strength between the military and the people did the latter look upon themselves as thoroughly beaten ; merely going home to gather in the harvest, when they ex pected they would have, by the landing of the French in force, (with supplies of arms and amunition,) another oppor tunity to show their prowess. An intelligent loyalist, who was an eye-witness, wrote at the time, in relation to them, in a letter to a friend, " They are nearly convinced they are Conquered by fate, not by force." 312 TRAVELS IN FRANCE But, to return to the history of Derry and Donegal from this digression; a digression perhaps necessary to make their history, at that time, entirely intelligible. These coun ties had remained perfectly tranquil through all these civil commotions and the profuse bloodshed growing out of them. Yet this was contrary to all the inclinations of the people, who were strongly bent on hostilities. Those, however, having influence with the members of the league, were ex pecting an armament from France toward the close of the summer, and they would not, by yielding to rash counsels, anticipate. In the last part of 1797, when Lewius (a secret minister of the United Men in Paris) sent to Ireland the last communication that he transmitted to his employers here, he mentioned in it that the promised succors, — which were to be five thousand men and forty thousand stands of arms, — : would pass over in April ; but, subsequent to this, intelligence had been sent to those engaged in preparing for the reception of these succors, that they would not come so soon, the reason assigned for this change (a change made on the prompting of the Irish themselves) being that, if the country should be laid waste by war before the harvest had been gathered, a famine would ensue, and that poor men, in this state of affairs, could not be expected to stay away from their families to fight even for the great cause of their coun try. But this second arrangement was also changed-, per haps at the instigation of Lord Edward Fitzgerald, who, as we learn from the testimony of his first betrayer, Reynolds, had expressed, in a conversation of the 11th of March, an anxious desire to hasten the invasion, which thing he said lie could do by his intimacy with Talleyrand Perigord; one of the French ministers. I may add that when, at length, the French succors did arrive, they arrived in small installments and at unexpected times. - ¦ ¦¦- The first succors that crossed reached Ireland on August 22d, at which time eleven hundred French under Humbert, with a supply of arms and of ammunition, landed in the ex-' treme northwest of the kingdom, in the County of Mayo. According to Major O'Keon, an Irishman by birth, and an officer in the expedition, this expedition was intended for the coast of Donegal. A small force to invade a country occupied by an army of one hundred and fifty thousand men, were these succors. Yet, with this force, assisted by about AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 313 two. thousand of the undrilled farmers and laborers of a re mote corner of Connaught, Humbert defeated severely an army of four or five thousand men, and marched into the very heart of the island. The next body of French sent to the aid of the United Irishmen sailed from Brest early in September, and arrived, after a voyage of about twelve days, in Ireland, at the little Islet of Rutland or Raghlin, (which lies east of the larger Islet of Arranmore,) in the Barony of Boylagh, near the middle of the western coast of Donegal. This occurred on the 16th of September. This force consisted of only about two hundred and fifty men, most of them being Irish ; and was commanded by James Napper Tandy, a brigadier in the service of the French Re public. Aboard the brig in which Tandy came was also another General, General Rey. Besides, it contained a considerable quantity of arms, accoutrements for cavalry, and a park of artillery. Hearing that the government had got ten such information as had put it completely on the alert, and of the fate of Humbert, after a brief stay it went to sea again. About two weeks after the. sailing of Tandy from Brest, — on September 20th, — Commodore Bompart was ordered to sail for Ireland with a squadron consisting of one ship of seventy- eight guns, of eight fast-sailing frigates, of a schooner, and of a brig. Aboard this squadron were three thousand troops under the command of General Hardy ; the celebrated Theo bald W. Tone being employed in the expedition, as a French officer, with the rank of adjutant-general. Bompart, after get ting clear of the Bay on which Brest stands, taking a north west sweep, arrived on the coast of Ireland at the mouth of Lough Swilly, (about thirty-five miles from where I am writ ing,) on the 11th of October. But, for a considerable time be fore this, an English fleet of six sail of the line, of one sixty- gun ship, and of two frigates, under Admiral Warren, had been cruising off the same part of the Irish coast, expecting the French armament, — it has been said, in consequence of information derived, in some way, from the French agent at Hamburg, (who had been made acquainted with the position of Irish affairs by Dr. McNevin. when on his way to France,) or from some other French source. The English ships had kept just out of sight of the shores of Ireland, going over, when necessary, to. Scotland for supplies; so that their 26 314 TRAVELS IN PRANCE strength was known only to few. In these circumstances, before Hardy's force, with the arms and ammunition aboard, could be landed, Warren succeeded in. compelling Bompart, (on the morning of October 12th,) to come to action.* The French had ten ships, and the English eight ; but the English ships were so greatly superior in size and guns, as to leave no doubt whatever what would be the result. Contemplating this state of matters, the French Commodore ordered his frigates, in case of defeat, to escape through shallow water. He then formed line of battle, (his own ship, the Hoche, having lost her main top-mast,) and engaged, the action last ing three hours and forty minutes, — when the Hoche, cut to pieces, hauled down her colors. This was followed by a suc cession of dispersed conflicts which continued through a good part ofthe day, and the firing during which to those in the vicinity gradually became more and more indistinct ; these ending in the Resolue Frigate surrendering when about to sink, and in the Loire, after an honorable and intrepid de fence, also yielding to greatly superior force. Four of the . other French frigates were subsequently captured ; so that, of the entire squadron, only two frigates, the brig, and the schooner, again reached France. Tone was among the prisoners captured in the Hoche, and, being recognized soon after being carried ashore, from having been a prisoner of war was held a prisoner to answer, as a subject of George III., to the charge of high treason. And, that he might be tried on this charge, he was ordered to be conveyed from the north to Dublin. Accordingly, he was given into the custody of Major Thackerry to be con veyed, with an escort of cavalry, from Derry to the capital. But the leaders of the United Men in the counties of Done gal and Derry, at whose doors these things were happening, were not indifferent spectators of these occurrences. They too were guilty of what the law would hold to be treason, in pledging themselves, how patriotic soever in their principles and motives, in the year before, that they would take up arms upon the arrival among them, with arms and ammuni tion, of any considerable French force. Especially did the two men, whom we mentioned above as having revived the * The French and English accounts of the two fleets, contemporary with their battle, differ somewhat as to dates, names, and numbers of ships. One may thus easily fall into unimportant error. AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 315 dormant clubs of the United Men, feel themselves most dan gerously implicated. They had corresponded through the United States with France at war with Britain ; they had canvassed many in the community in favor ofthe French in vading force, and they had distributed, with a view to raising a regular Irish army, commissions (though these unwritten) to many persons. Besides, Mr. Tone was here, as in every other part of Ireland, held in high respect, by the revolu tionary party, as an able, bold, and patriotic man. In this state of matters, it was thought, by the two men spoken of, that a bold course would be at once the safest and the most honorable. It was therefore concluded to place ambuscades on the two roads, by the one or the other of which Mr. Tone and his guard would pass on their way to Dublin, — one ambuscade from the County of Derry, and the other from that of Donegal ; these ambush parties to consist of such persons as had either been advised with as to the coming of the French, or as had received commissions from the men referred to as having conferred such commis sions. This was accordingly done ; so that no one could inform on any one without, at the same time, informing on* half of all concerned. Thus it would be secured that the prisoner would be rescued and that all of those most deeply implicated would be compelled to join in rousing the United Men of these two counties in resisting the arrest of any one of those associated in this business. The same fatality, how ever, which had hitherto attended the unfortunate but patri otic Tone, still continued to pursue him. In order to be sufficiently early, and that Thackerry's escort might not pass in anticipation of the laying of the ambuscades, the par ties that were to watch the roads took their concealed posi tions at a very early day. The party from the County of Donegal lay not very far from Strabane, keeping vigilant watch, day and night ; the main body being on one side of the road, covered by a thick whin hedge, while a single indi vidual lay on the other side of the road, (which afforded but little cover,) to give the signal to fire by shooting the man guarding Tone, before he could use his pistols to shoot his prisoner. A man, who was along with this party, compared to me the watching by night to lying for otters, which he had frequently done along a small river, in his youthful days. The otter, as it in the night fishes for salmon, can be heard, in 316 TRAVELS IN PRANCE. the perfect stillness, a long distance, when, after each short interval, coming to the surface to breathe, it breaks the thin ice on the water. Such, he said, was the perfect stillness of the look-out kept up by his party. After some time, rain poured down in torrents, so that to keep the guns dry was very difficult. Also, the man, who had the charge of the party near the road, Robert Floyd, became so sick that, put ting another in his place, he had to withdraw temporarily into a neighboring barn ; while Samuel, the hedge not suf ficing to hide all, was with a reserve party under another hedge off from the road, he having been disarmed, (as we before mentioned,) and thus without a gun. In these cir cumstances, Major Thackerry traveling at a rapid pace, with a body of light cavalry, suddenly presented himself; the pri soner, considerably in advance ofthe main party, riding side by side with a horseman that, in case of a rescue, was to fire on him. The gun of the man who was to give the signal had become wood-bound in consequence of the rain, so that the trigger, under the best possible sight of the object aimed at, would not move ; while he failed, in the hurry of the short moment of the horses trotting sharply past, either to whistle or give any other notice that all was not right. Thus Tone passed on to the capital and to death. As to the main party, I observe that no one fired; each waiting for the appointed signal or for the word of command, neither of which was given. I would only further remark, as to the ambuscades of which I have been speaking, that, though they failed to accomplish the object for which they were mainly projected, they subsequently were the instrument of safety to at least some who were concerned in their long, cold, anxious vigils. With a view to the obviating of any danger that might arise from past doings, the men, who had planned the rescue, went around those who had participated in the attempt to effect it, telling these, their associates, that they had now done all they could do, and that it was plain that henceforth the only safety of all was to be as patient of wrongs as possible, but to take up arms, and that at once, as soon as any one involved was attempted to be arrested. Nor did the government, when it became aware of the state of matters, ever arrest any one concerned. The defeat of the armament at whose head had been Gene ral Hardy and Commodore Bompart, in connection with AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 317 the captivity or death of so many of the ablest aud most patriotic of the United Men, extinguished all hopes of suc cessful resistance, at least at that time, on the part of the more intelligent of the Irish people. Yet the English minis ters and their allies, the Irish oligarchy, were fully aware that their victory was by no means decisive ; the main strength of the revolutionary societies having not even stirred. It was in these circumstances that that great con solidating measure, the Union op Ireland with Britain, was carried. It is probable that Warren's naval victory of Torry Island, the failure of the attempt to rescue Mr. Tone, and the gene ral disappointment as to the reception from France of the long-expected arms and ammunition, (connected with the knowledge of the people that, in the late struggle, the army in the country had been swelled to one hundred and sixty thousand soldiers well disciplined, well equipped, and brave,) would have sufficed to put an end to the military schemes that had been formed, as I before mentioned, in the two counties with respect to which I am writing, if an incident had not occurred to attract again the special attention of the government of the day, as well as that of the govern ment of France, to these schemes. In a small and remote town, in which there is a monthly fair, there happened, in the spring of 1800, a street fight between two parties of men ; the one party Protestant and the other Roman Catho lic. On the one side were the Buchanans with their follow ers, and on the other the Strains with theirs. This fight, on the part of the Buchanans, grew out of a quarrel of the standing of- generations ; which quarrel is said to have first arisen out of difference of localities, but which had come to assume the aspect of a semi-religious petty warfare. The Strains, however, had been a quiet people who had usually eschewed, in markets and fairs, quarrels whether growing out of religious bigotry or of anything else ; nor had the ori ginal difficulty of the Buchanans, a difficulty that had led to in numerable shillelah conflicts, been with them but with others. On this occasion, the Strains happened to become involved; and, their opponents being at home, and belonging, (many of them,) to military corps, succeeded in worsting them badly by employing old crooks and other domestic utensils of iron, and by using charged bayonets. Indeed some of the defeated 26* 318 travels in prance party, poor laboring men, received bayonet wounds that could never be healed, and that made them, till the day of their deaths, earn their bread not merely by the sweat of their brows but amid much bitterness and bodily suffering. In this conflict, one of the Buchanans, a large-boned muscu lar man, severely beat one of the Strains, a much smaller man. Strain had received, in '97, a cavalry commission from Samuel Floyd, and had lain in ambush with the party that sought the rescue of Tone. With bruised bones, angry at all Protestants in consequence, thinking the United Men now no longer worth the: keeping of terms with, and proba bly calculating the profit and loss of the thing, he went very soon and gave information to the government through a neighboring magistrate. He could tell what he saw, but could not tell the names or residences of the persons con cerned, with the exception of the man from whom he had received the commission referred to and of- one or two other individuals. In this condition of affairs^ and having bought over some of the men who had assisted in the ambuscades of which I gave you an account, the government determined to sieze, at once, on the entire party described by Strain, as soon as an opportunity would turn up. Accordingly, Mr. Tandy was siezed at Hamburg by some English agents, with the expectation, on the part of the British government, that the ambush parties, that had been laid for the deliverance of Tone, would be repeated for him. But, though Tandy was brought on to Lifford, in Donegal, and tried at the spring assizes of 1801, and though every means was used by the government to draw out his sympathizers to rescue him, that thus they might be cut in pieces or captured, the decoy to tally failed. In this case, the British ministers contemptu ously violated the neutrality of a weak State, using the soli cited influence of that " tyrannical duncery in which not any thing politically free and generous has yet nourished," Russia, to intimidate the Hamburgers into acquiescence in this viola tion ; while, on the other hand, Bonaparte, with the two con suls, his colleagues, expressed toward them, for their pusil lanimity, the strongest sentiments of resentment. Strange, indeed, that a street row, in an obscure fair in Donegal, should set in motion the governments of London, St. Peters burg, Hamburg, and Paris ; its influence not stopping here, but finally extending across the Atlantic ! AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 319 Almost simultaneously with these things, was a considera ble military force withdrawn from Ireland to go under Gene ral Abercrombie, (or fill up the place of those who were to go,) on the expedition for the expulsion of the French from Egypt. Also, the treaty of Luneville between France and Austria, the result of the battle of Marengo, had just been signed. In connection with this state of circumstances, which left the French government free to execute any scheme in relation to this island, that it might choose to engage in, by the direction, no doubt, of Napoleon, — whose attention was probably recalled to the condition of Ireland by the fuss made about Tandy, — a correspondence, through the same channel, or, perhaps I ought rather to say, through one of the same channels, before made use of, was opened with the United Irishmen of these counties. This communication catoe to the same persons who had been concerned in reviv ing, in 1797, the revolutionary organization, as I have above narrated. Though neither of these men, before whom the business was first brought, took an active part in canvassing the people as to the subject of the communication, yet this ' was done by others ; the result being the general expression of a desire, on the part of the party which had been ready to join the expedition of Hardy and Tone, for the coming of a strong armament with arms. This matter, beyond ques tion, had a connection with the vast armament of one hun dred thousand men collected in this year, (1801,) at Bologne, for the invasion of England. It is well known that, at the same time, the people of Ireland were on the very eve of a general revolt ; expecting to be assisted by arms and other aids from abroad. I may here remark that it is strange to tell that the British government, in its impotence safely to make arrests in these counties, was ready meanwhile to stoop to the baseness of planning assassination. At length, in March, 1802, the peace of Amiens was signed. The peace of 1802, I need. scarcely say, was of very brief continuance ; in one year and sixteen days after its having been concluded, (in May, 1803,) hostilities recommencing. Very soon the head of the French government sought allies among the disaffected portion of the people of the British Islands, many of whom were, at that time, willing to pur chase reform even at the expense of the risk of seeking it through the military aid of foreigners. Especially did he 320 TRAVELS IN FRANCE turn his attention to the disaffected in Ireland. Thus was he led to open a correspondence once more with the United Irishmen of these counties, beginning it through the channel of communication afforded by the United States, and so often referred to. This time, however, the two men who had hitherto been most active, though they saw their native island still hopelessly prostrate, and though to them great might be the fascination of the illustrious name of the French consul, declined the giving of any co-operation (beyond a mere connivance) to any future projects of revolt. But this did not put a stop to proceedings. Others were willing to do what they refused to attempt. Mr. Patterson, (a resi dent of the western shore of Swilly Bay,) and Mr. O'Donnel, (a clergyman of the Established Church,) two men very nearly related, assumed all the. hazard of going ahead ; they being partly impelled to this by the consideration of the channel through which the proposals had come, the former being a relative of Mr. Patterson of Baltimore. Against this course they were advised on the ground that, during the late ces sation of hostilities, the government was reported, in some parts of Ireland, to have won over some, perhaps many, of those who had hitherto been zealous patriots; and they were told that, if they did proceed, it would be most prudent in them to get a new set of coadjutors. This latter piece of counsel they took. I would here remark that it was proba bly about the time of the beginning of the correspondence of which I am now speaking that an understanding com menced, (or, perhaps I ought to say, was revived,) between the French government and Thomas Russell, one of the State prisoners who had been confined in Fort George in Scotland, whence he had been liberated about the date of the Peace of Amiens ; Russell being, in some way, connected with Robert Emmet. Of the deep interest of the French Consul in the affairs of Ireland at this period, we are suffi ciently instructed by the fact that, to give an emphatic, assu rance, as it would seem, of his deep earnestness in respect to them, he caused his brother, Jerome Bonaparte, — a young officer of the French navy, going into twenty years of age, — who had been on duty in the West Indies, to be carried by his ship to the United States, (arriving in New York in the beginning of August,) where he was soon thrown into contact with that family which had been, in the United States, the AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 321 medium of intercourse between at least a portion of the Irish revolutionists and revolutionary France. And, in con junction with all, a fleet was collected at Brest for the inva sion of Ireland, and an immense armament, — perhaps the most complete that was ever equipped, — which was finally swelled to three hundred thousand men, with thousands of gun-boats, was about being prepared at the old city of Bo- logne, to pass over (one-half to go across at once and the other half to be an army of reserve,) the thirty miles of channel separating the shores of France from those of Bri tain. The British government, however, was early aware, at least in part, of what was going on in Ireland, so that Russell, mentioned above, who had served with reputation as an officer in the army, and who was, in all respects, a man to be feared, was closely watched ; and, the character of the course that he was shaping out for himself, being suffi ciently ascertained, he was arrested even before the ship that took Jerome Bonaparte to New York arrrived in that port, . — being tried and executed some three months after his ar rest.; In- connection, with what I have said of the British ministry being informed, though certdinly only partially, of the designs and projects of the head of the French Repub lic, in relation, to Ireland, I would observe that I am satis fied that a British agent, or agents, in America, were the quarter from which a portion of this information was de rived by them. This was told me, more than twenty-five years ago, by one of the two men who had declined, as I men tioned above ,»any participation in the business, but who had been a close observer of the course of affairs ; and I myself have had since an abundant confirmation of what was then, on strong grounds of conjecture, asserted. Indeed, the same person, with his friends in Baltimore, who, in 1814, gave General. Ross the informaton that led him to march on the City of Washington, (as I learned when residing in Balti more in the summer and autumn of 1835,) was, with those his friends referred to, in such circumstances and position, during the stay of Jerome Bonaparte in the United States, as might enable him and them to glean up everything occur ring in regard to this matter ; and, while I was there at the time designated, some things turned up that, though I did not ponder them when they happened, more than fix in my mind the impression that the same agent, or, as I think I 322 TRAVELS IN PRANCE ought to say, agents, were the persons (as I conceive, act ing, except they were moved by money, considering the changed aspect of affairs, in one of the cases, in a manner deserving of commendation,) that communicated intelligence on both occasions. Meanwhile the youthful brother of the French First Con sul, by becoming enamored of, and, in December, (not alto gether five months after his landing in the United States,) marrying, the well-known Miss Elizabeth Patterson, was en gaged, — I do not pretend to decide which, — in strengthen ing, or weakening, the good understanding subsisting between the government of France and those, at this time, in Ireland disposed toward a revolution. He, after his nuptials, going on to New York, took Belvidere for the season ; and, as a distinguished public character of that day, in a letter written at the time, remarks of him, became, "for unknown reasons of State," a stranger to at least some of those with whom he had, before this, associated. Soon his frigate, and another French frigate, (her mate,) were blockaded by English ships in New Ydrk Bay. In these circumstances, he sent on, in the summer of 1804, his wife before him to France, in an American ship ; but this lady was refused admittance into a French port, and thus had to land, on account of the state of her health, in England, in which country she resided, for some time, at Camberwell, near Loudon. In the May of the year succeeding the occurrence of this affair, (the May of 1805,) Jerome Bonaparte himself, he having succeeded in escaping the blockade kept up by the British ships cruis ing off New York, returned to France. Not far from the same time, his wife, with her infant son who had been born at Camberwell, (Jerome Bonaparte, Jr.,) returned to the United States. Various reasons may be conceived for the separation brought about, in this manner, between Jerome Bonaparte and the youthful, beautiful, and ever-circumspect Elizabeth P. Bonaparte; a separation compulsory as it related to both. Probably the main reason was that Napo leon, who, on December 2d, 1804, had been crowned Em peror, in the Cathedral of Notre Dame, in Paris, amid a scene of unheard-of magnificence, — the Pope personally pre sent and blessing the sceptre and the sword, scarred grena diers, who had fought at Lodi, the Pyramids, and Marengo, assisting in the grand ceremony, five hundred musicians dis- AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 323 coursing the noblest music, dense crowds applauding, innu merable cannon filling the air with their thunders, while the new Emperor himself put the crown on his own head, — I say the main reason of the separation spoken of probably was that Napoleon, newly elevated to imperial dignity, was unwilling to permit his brother to overstep the vast distance in rank between him and the daughter of a merchant. Pro bably, also, there were auxiliary reasons. Most certain it is that this winding up of this transaction was the winding up of all the schemes of the United Irishmen in Derry and Donegal, and, in all likelihood, in Ireland. Thus closed the conspiracy of the United Irishmen, (and I would say that the colossal and freedom-hating despotism, into which France had turned, made it time for it to stop,) after extending, in Ireland, in all, over nearly fourteen event ful years, and, in the counties as to which I am writing, over the period of ten years. It called forth, from their ports, three powerful armaments, two of them French and one Dutch ; two of these armaments being destroyed in battle, and one ruined by the elements. It occupied the attention of an English army, ranging from one hundred thousand to one hundred and sixty thousand men, for many years ; the Irish oligarchy and the English ministry, together, by their stupid obstinacy, thus making such a diversion in favor of France, as contributed quite as much as anything else to enable her to establish a military superiority over all other nations. In one year, that of 1798, this army lost twenty thousand men, (about forty thousand being the loss of the British army in the revolted colonies during the Ame rican Revolution,) while, in the same year, the loss of those who took up arms to put down the government in Ireland amounted to fifty thousand, (about eighty thousand being the loss of the Americans in their Revolution.) Also, dur ing the progress of this project occurred, as I have already mentioned, a most momentous internal change in the politi cal state of the British empire : I speak of the union between Britain and Ireland, a political event pregnant with bound less good if properly improved, but which may fail to be productive of the good expected from it, if unattended with needed reforms. Here I might close my brief survey of the history of the two counties in regard to which I am writing. I would only 324 TRAVELS IN FRANCE add that though, along Swilly Bay, six powerful batteries had been erected, during the progress of these transactions, so that no ship could enter without having, at the same mo ment, concentrated on her the fire of four of these ; though the men who had been most active as leaders seeking political ameliorations, had now abandoned all idea of attaining lib erty by the aid of France, (now become a fiercely aggressive and an almost omnipotent military despotism ;) though many in the community, who had been professed patriots, had in their pockets the price of their mercenariness ; and though men in power knew that the channel of communication be tween these counties and France was now fast closed : yet, such was the dread of the government for the broken frag ments of the military organization which had here existed, and such was the feeling of guiltiness in its conscience, that it could not rest at ease. Down to a time later than the overthrow of Napoleon in Russia, in 1812, strong bodies of soldiery were unnecessarily stationed in every town, village, and hamlet, in certain vicinities ; light horsemen, during the night, rode up and down the highways; all fires and lights had to be extinguished at nine o'clock; finally, in addition to the forces maintained all over the country, a camp was, on a small scale, formed ; and also frigates were kept cruising off the coast during summer and winter. And all this in dread of a population as remarkable for industry, intelli gence, and love of the Bible, as any other of equal numbers in Europe or America. Surely it is easier for governments to do right than to do wrong. It is painful to relate, just in clos ing what I am writing, that one of the frigates spoken of, the Saldanha, commanded by the Honorable Captain Pack- enham, a brave and skillful naval officer, and an amiable man, — brother-in-law of the Duke of Wellington ,— was lost, with all on board, on the night of December 4, 1812. I only add that, since that melancholy occurrence, not anything of sufficient public interest, to be chronicled, has happened. In concluding this long epistle, I subscribe myself, Yours, &c, M. F. AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 325 NO. XXX. Last Letter from British Soil — Voyage to Liverpool from Derry — Shores of the Ocean — The Giant's Causeway — Rathiiu Island — Laid Waste by the Norsemen — Robert Bruce — Night — Estuary of the Mersey — Bell-buoy — Taking Passage — The Liver pool Docks — Streets — St. George's Hall — Sailor's Home — The Custom-House — The Exchange and Town Hall — Nelson's Monument — Complete News-room — Museum of the Royal Institution — The Supply of Water to the Town — Dr. McNeil's Church — His Preaching — Prince's Park — Congregation of Dr. Raffles — Increase of Liver pool — Excursion to Chester — Bridges in Chester — Its old Wall — Battle on Waver- ton Heath — Streets — The Abbey and Cathedral — Saxon Arch 1100 Years old — Coffin of Hugh Lupus — Trinity Church — Matthew Henry and Parnel — A Roman Station — Altar — Return to Liverpool — Ship-board — Firing of Batteries — About to Sail. Liverpool, Sept., 1855. This is the last letter that I expect to address to you from British soil. Indeed, I will not close nor date it till I am just on the point of sailing for America, when I will send it on, knowing that it will go by the steam mail-packet much more rapidly than I can go by a sail-ship. Its arrival in the United States will thus considerably anticipate mine. I purpose at this time to give you an account of my jour- neyings, and of matters and things in general, since I left Derry. I left Londonderry by steamer on Monday the 3d of Sep tember, and arrived here after a passage of about twenty- three hours, the distance passed over, by our boat, having been about two hundred and seventy miles ; so that we voy aged at about twelve miles an hour, nearly. Our voyage down the Foyle to the sea was very pleasant, with the suc cessive country-seats of gentlemen, with their shrubberies, on either hand ; and with the railroad to Belfast, on the County Derry side of the Bay, in view down to the ocean; but, after this, being slightly unwell, and the wind sharp and cold, the voyage was by no means so agreeable. Our boat kept close in by the land, (as boats usually do,) till we reached toward the neighborhood of Belfast Bay, where she entirely abandoned the coast. The shores, all the way from the mouth of the Foyle, are exceedingly precipitous, being one vast wall of jagged, beetling rock. At the foot of this wall, and against it, everlastingly rolls the ocean, that — 27 326 TRAVELS IN PRANCE "Glorious mirror, where the Almighty's form Glasses itself in tempests: in all time, (Calm; or convulsed in breeze, or gale, or storm; Icing the Pole; or. in the torrid clime, Dark-heaving,) boundless, endless, and sublime; The image of eternity ; the throne Of the Invisible." And glorious as is the view of these dingy, frowning preci pices, and sublime as is the prospect of the ocean, the in terest to me was immensely increased by the sight, along with other things, of three objects, a large steamboat under full headway, a tiny open boat, and a soaring bird, which my fellow-passengers chose, (I suppose correctly,) to call an eagle. I felt sorry that, on account of my slight feeling of unwellness, I could not enjoy these things as much as, in other circumstances, I would, no doubt, have done. Yet they had upon me an exhilarating effect. Especially did the two last-named objects suggest associations at once me lancholy and pleasing. On this same field of water, but con siderably farther northwest, a friend, now long in his grave, had had, in his boyish days, an adventure which the tiny boat called to remembrance. He and four fishermen had gone out to fish in an open boat, when a storm arose driving them out to sea. Almost without provisions or water, they were compelled, for more than two days and during three nights, wet and shivering, to breast the mountain waves. They threw out their anchor over the stern into the fathom less depths below, keeping the boat's head to the storm; and, she being thus steadied and her stem thus made buoy ant, they were enabled, by a kind Providence smiling,on the skillful endeavors of the strong and fearless boatmen, to out ride the tempest and reach land. The same friend, who had been brought up, (as I may observe in passing,) along the coast, had had a lamb given him, in his boyhood, as a pre sent. This lamb grew, and, after a lapse of time, became a mother. And, while the lambkin was playing beside its dam, an eagle, which had his nest in a neighboring preci pice, suddenly pounced on the little sportive creature, seek ing to bear it in his talons to the aerie among the crags along the great deep. The owner, however, was near enough to scare the ferocious robber away without his prey, but not till such wounds had been inflicted on the victim of this cruel em- AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 327 brace, that it died. The nest was inaccessible, and indeed unapproachable, except at as far off as the distance of a very long shot with a bullet. Often did the owner lie in wait and shoot bootless bullets at the marauder and his mate as they came with rabbits and hares to their young, or as they soared away on their hunting excursions. These adventures, trivial in themselves, as I looked on the little boat out amid the waste of waters, on the soaring bird of prey, and on the frowning, dusky precipices and crags, were brought before my mind with the most vivid interest. To others, in all like lihood, they would have been things of indifference. Even the magnificent steamboat traveling lustily along, proudly inde pendent of wind and tide, was to me an object of far less interest than the fishing-boat and the bird, just because of these old associations. The voyager along the northeast coast of Ireland, between the debouchure of Foyle Bay and the portion of sea lying off the mouth of Belfast Bay, passes close by the Giant's Causeway. This great natural curiosity is distant from Derry, by the route that Liverpool steamers usually take, about forty miles. Having passed, several times, in close propinquity to it, — within a long pistol-shot, — I ought to say a word in relation to it. It is well known that it is uni versally regarded as one of the most remarkable objects in the world, indeed one of the world's seven chief wonders. Yet, as seen from the sea, there is nothing extraordinary in the view which it presents. In its neighborhood, the shores are precipitous yet not without verdure. The height of the cliff, just where it is, is something near to four hundred feet. There are several caves, one of which (into which cave the ocean flows) has a very wide entrance. In this cave the late Sir Robert Peel, when pleasuring with a number of no blemen and gentlemen, had a cannon fired : the explosion has been described to me as prodigiously startling. To so small advantage is the Causeway seen from the water, — perhaps this thing is different in other stages of the tide from what it was when I passed, — that that stone platform pi-ojecting, from the base of the cliff spoken of, into the sea, which platform is properly named the Causeway, cannot, by the passer-by, be more than distinguished from the other com mon things in its vicinity ; except he is acquainted with the descriptions given of the form of the curiosity on which he 328 TRAVELS IN FRANCE is looking. Said platform is said to be seven hundred feet in length, from one hundred and twenty to two hundred and forty in width, and from sixteen to thirty-six feet above the level of the adjacent .strand. Toward the northeast is what is called the organ, in the side of a hill, consisting of fifty pillars. The middle pillar of these is described as being forty feet high ; the others, around it, gradually diminishing. The pillars of the Causeway are in an upright position and amount to several hundred thousands in number. They are of a black basalt, are not of one continuous piece but jointed, (and this admirably,) are generally though not al ways five-sided, and are from about fifteen to above twenty- four inches in diameter. It is worth adding that this great freak of nature is composed of stone so compact in texture that, though it has been exposed to the action of the sea and air from creation to the present time, the angles of the columns still preserve their sharpness. About fifteen miles after passing the Giant's Causeway, and a little more than fifty-five miles from Derry, the voy ager passes the Islet of Rathlin or Raghery. This islet lies about sixteen miles from the promontory of Cantyre in Scot land, and about three miles from the coast of the Irish County of Antrim. It is shaped Somewhat like the arm when half bent at the elbow, and is about seven miles long by two and a half in width ; containing a population of about one thousand. On the side next the main sea are several caves. As, in former days, I have been all around it, and have viewed it carefully, I may speak not merely from sailing, at this time, along its inside shore, but from for mer observation. The land is mostly but little productive, and there are scarcely any trees. Indeed, few kinds of trees can stand its sharp ocean-breezes. Yet, I think, if the com mon sycamore were planted and properly cared for, since it is so hardy that it will bear the severest and most cutting sea-winds, it would prosper and would soon be a protection under whose shade other trees would grow. As the island now is, it has a very bleak aspect. Only one person having the rank of a gentlemen resides on it, and he is at once the pro prietor of the soil and the rector. Poor, bleak, and secluded, however, though this islet may be, it has played its part in the history of the past. It early contained an abbey. About the year 795, (contemporaneously with the first invasion of AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 329 England, on a large scale, by the same people,) it was laid waste by the Danes or Norsemen, the first step toward the beginning of their many terrible expeditions against the coasts of Ireland. I may remark that it was at this invasion that the ancient Hibernians mocked when they jested at the Norsemen as having succeeded in the grand enterprise of drowning the Abbot of Raghery's pigs ; — a foolish taunt, as subsequent events showed. And, five hundred and eleven years after this, in the year 1306, it had the honor of afford ing a refuge to Robert Bruce when expelled from his native land ; and, on the northern part of it, there still exist the fragments of a rude castle, or rather fortress, which the tra ditions of the inhabitants still associate, no doubt correctly, with his name. Not long after passing the Islet of Rathlin, our boat ceased to hug, so closely as it had done, the coast of Ire land, standing out into the broad waters. Then, after a time, came night, when I retired to a troublous repose, for I was by no means well. Next morning, I found that we were at no very great distance from the mouth of the Estu ary of the Mersey. Then we got a view of the dusky tops of some of the mountains of the principality. And, after a while, we were entering the bay that leads to Liverpool. From the time of our approaching the headlands of the Mer sey till we had entered the docks, not anything attracted my attention so much, not even the vast mercantile navies in motion all around, as the fog-bell, or bell-buoy, slowly and faintly ringing out to us over the wrinkled tides, as it swung, ils solemn Sunday-like music, to guard us against the shoals with which the surrounding waters are encumbered. This buoy is unlike anything of the sort that I know of. It is a frame of wood floating on the water and strongly chained to anchors, having a large bell suspended on the summit of the frame ; and this is tolled by the action ofthe waves, especially during a storm. At length we had entered the Liverpool docks. And soon had I my trunks conveyed to a comfort able boarding-house in the neighborhood of the Exchange, to which a merchant in Derry had given me a letter ; and here I am while I write, and I will be here till I leave Eng land. The first things that engaged my attention, on my arrival in this city, were to search out a vessel in which, before any 27* 330 TRAVELS IN PRANCE other, I would prefer to voyage, and to have my name en rolled as a passenger in her. I soon fixed on the American Union, a new sail-ship. Indeed, I had no great room for choice in the matter. On account ofthe war in the Crimea and the number of Atlantic steamers employed in carrying troops thither, the New York steamers are so full that a passage in them has to be engaged, several weeks, beforehand. Having neglected to do this,, I must go by sails and not by steam ; and, this being settled, I soon fixed on the packet-ship named, securing a berth in state-room No. 1. So affairs stand as to my future voyage. And I am now at leisure to write, or to look, or to travel, as I may choose, till the day of sailing comes round. With respect to the matter of my taking passage, I need not be more particular. One object of inspection, that strongly, and before any other, strikes the notice of the stranger in Liverpool, is the docks. It is certain that there is not anything equal to them, or even nearly equal to them, anywhere else in the world. The London docks are far behind. They extend in a direct line along the Mersey for seven miles, and, on account of their numerous basins, afford, in this distance, a quay-space equal to more than thirty miles in length. Then, in addition to this, there is large dock-room at the town of Birkenhead, on the opposite side of the Mersey. Along the docks there is a high, strong wall with gates, at which policemen are stationed. These works were rendered neces sary by the great rise of the tide in the river at the place, this rise ranging from twelve to thirty feet. Now, when the tide would be thirty feet high, if a large ship were brought close to the wharf, as soon as the tide retired she would be left dry, in consequence of which she would be likely to suf fer damage from straining. Other inconveniences were also experienced. Thus a ship, that came to the wharf at spring tide, might not be able to go away in neap-tide. To remedy such evils, these artificial havens were excavated and con structed. There are several sorts of docks here, as wet docks, dry docks, and floating docks. The first-named sort covers an area of nearly one hundred and ninety acres. A dock of this kind consists of an excavation in the side of the river for the repairing or holding of vessels, but without any floodgates for either the retaining or the excluding of the tide. The second-named sort, to wit, dry docks, are like the AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 331 docks just spoken of, except that they are furnished with floodgates for the exclusion of the tide ; and, as the result of their possessing these, the work of repairing ships can be carried on, irrespective of the highness or lowness of the water. But most of the capitally important Liverpool docks, I believe, are what are called floating docks, that is, large basins for the loading and unloading of vessels, and which are connected with the river by canals and locks. In these huge basins or reservoirs, which are cased with stone, ships always float; whence the name by which they are distin guished. The vast forest of masts, bearing the flags of all nations, to be seen in the various docks of Liverpool, (with the innumerable small crafts, and steamers, devoted to domestic trade,) can scarcely be conceived. And what an inconceivable variety of merchandise 1 Merchandise from Ireland, from Wales, from Scotland, and from the western counties of England ; from the West and East Indies,, from the Baltic, Black, Red and Mediterranean seas, from South and Equatorial Africa, from South America, and from the United States of North America. Especially does the cot ton of the cotton-raising States of the great North American Confederacy, though it is not now about being landed in any great quantities, court observation ; piled, as it is, bale upon bale. And then one looking at it cannot help wondering at the huge ponderous wagons on four very low wheels, in which it is hauled away, each wagon having yoked to it two great slow-moving dray-horses ; many of these horses being above twenty-two hands high, with bone and muscle in proportion, and a pair of them being capable of dragging at their heels thirty bales of cotton. Indeed, there is no other place on the globe so complete a miniature, (a minia ture, I may remark, on a large scale,) of the world's com merce, as the Liverpool docks. And within their walls is to be found an almost perfect exemplification of that spirit which in ancient times overcame the steppes of Scythia and the sands of Lybia, which reared Petra and Palmyra, Tyre and Carthage, which joined the Red Sea with the Nile and penetrated northward to utmost Thule ; and which has in modern days hewed down the primitive forests of Ame rica and drained the waters of Australia, which has built Venice, Amsterdam, New York, New Orleans, Liverpool, and London, which is seeking through the Isthmus of Darien 332 TRAVELS IN FRANCE to connect the Atlantic and Pacific oceans, which is girdling the globe with lines of steam -packets, of railroads, and of telegraph wires, which has colonized all islands and conti nents, and which is civilizing, and, along with the missionary and the Bible, Christianizing all mankind. When the stranger has taken such a survey of the docks, - — with their ships, steamers, merchandise, and illustrations of the almost countless diversities, on our globe, of national ities and of races, — as is sufficient to satiate his curiosity, he is apt next to desire to take a ramble through and around some of the leading streets. At least this was pretty nearly the course which my inclinations led me to pursue. The streets of Liverpool, even the humblest of them, are well built ; though, very often, they are very short. The best are, Lord Street, distinguished for its fine buildings, and Castle, Church, and Dale streets. All these streets named are very beautiful. Yet none of them is, by any meaii3, equal, in my opinion, to several of the streets of London, to Sackville Street in Dublin, to Prince's Street in Edinburgh, and, above all, to the Champs Elysees in Paris. I would add that none of them makes, perhaps, such a favorable im pression as do two or three of the leading streets in Phila delphia. Next, the public edifices claim some attention. Of these that one of which the citizens are proudest, (judging from a talk that I had with a physician of the town,) is St. George's Hall, and, if the stranger will consult with almost any ofthe citizens, it is probably the first at which he will take a look. This is quite a new building. It is intended to accommo date the assize courts, contains a magnificent music hall, and is one of the noblest and largest buildings of the kind to be met with in any city of the British Islands. It is admirably proportioned, and is of the Corinthian order of architecture. The Sailors' Home is also quite a handsome building exter nally, as it is a very convenient one, as I have no doubt, for its purpose, internally I have never seen any building reared, with a view to the benefiting of this interesting and altogether indispensable class of men, in any other city, to be, for a moment, compared with it. And well does the sai lor deserve that some such provision should be made for him against sickness and old age. For small wages and hard fare, he goes through surprising hardships, while multitudes AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 333 grow rich upon his labor. At midnight and in midwinter, when the freezing tempest is raging, he struggles over the dark and stormy abyss of waters, more than eighty feet high, to take in the heavy and nearly unmanageable sail, and this, standing on a single slack and swaying rope. Yet this is but little of what he has to pass through. Surely then he has a right to expect that, — "When "life's bright glowing summer Is hasting to its close, And winter's night is coming, The night of long repose," those, who have attired themselves in purple and fine linen and fared sumptuously every day, by his means, should not leave him to die either in the streets or in a garret, but should rear and furnish for his use, with hands neither mean nor penurious, such "a home" as Liverpool, to her honor, has here erected for him. Again, the Custom-House is wor thy of a visit. It is a very strong and ponderous building, covering a very large space, and has, in the area before its north front, a bronze statue cast at Munich, of the celebrated member of Parliament, Mr. Huskisson, who was killed, in the presence of the late Duke of Wellington and of other celebrated men, by a railroad engine, in 1830, at the celebra tion of the completion of the Liverpool and Manchester Railroad. Again, the Exchange and Town-Hall, standing close together, (the Exchange occupying three sides of the square on which it is built, and the Town-Hall the remaining side,) demand notice. To these buildings I have given more attention than to any others in town. This has arisen from their being quite close to my boarding-house. Indeed, I have visited them so often in my walks that I have ceased to keep count. And one can scarcely visit one of them without also visiting the other. In visiting these edifices, the first thing that strikes attention is the monument to Lord Nelson, in the open space on which they stand. It, though not aiming at loftiness, is exceedingly stately and im posing ; and also it is distinguished at once for felicity of design and of execution. It is enclosed within an iron rail ing, and consists of a bronze allegorical group of the figures of Death and Victory ; this allegorical representation refer ring to his fall at Trafalgar, while about obtaining one of 334 TRAVELS IN PRANCE the greatest of his many great victories. On the pedestal of the monument, his battles are exhibited in relief. With respect to the Exchange, — which was begun in 1809, I would remark that it is a very plain though a very spacious and convenient edifice. Its news-room contains all the more valuable newspapers published in what language soever all over the world. And as to the Town-Hall, I would remark that though it is a small building compared with the Hotel de Ville (or Town-Hall) of Paris, yet that it is, neverthe less, a grand structure may be guessed from the fact that it cost £110,000 sterling, prudently expended. As one as cends its staircase he comes into contact with a beautiful statue of the celebrated British premier and orator, the Ho norable George Canning. This edifice contains a handsome council-hall, a superb suite of entertainment rooms, and all the offices necessary for the use of those concerned in the administration of municipal affairs. In addition to what I have already said of the public buildings of Liverpool, I will now make reference to the Royal Institution, an establish ment which has an extensive and increasing library, and a museum valuable in all its departments, but especially so in the department of natural history. No stranger should leave Liverpool without spending some time in this museum. Among its curiosities is a pair ofthe horns of the long since extinct Irish elk, between the extremities of the points of which horns, in a straight line, is the distance of about nine feet and a half, and, following their sinuosities, of about six teen feet and a half. Again, after having said so much of the public edifices of this city, I will say a word as to its supply of water. The supply of this essential element is scanty though its quality is excellent. It is procured through or in a stratum of red sandstone by pumping, is raised into reservoirs, and is thence distributed by pipes over the town. Such is the force with which it is propelled through these, that a jet from one of the main pipes operates, like a jet from a powerful fire- engine, in extinguishing a conflagration. A more abund ant supply is greatly needed. Again, with respect to the manner in which I have spent the only Sabbath that I have passed here at this time, you will, no doubt, expect me to say something. I attended public worship twice. Carriages usually stand, for hire, close by AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 335 the Exchange, and accordingly I went thither to engage one to take me to the church (which belongs to the Establish ment) of which Dr. McNeil is rector. He is, you are aware, exceedingly celebrated as a pulpit orator. But on going to the vicinity of the Exchange, I found that neither carriage nor omnibus was to be found. So, inquiring the way, I started on foot, and a very long walk I had. At length, I reached Prince's Park, — as I think it is called, — on the edge of which the church, for which I was seeking, is situated. It is an exceedingly spacious, noble, and indeed magnificent cruciform edifice — which has not long been built. The doc tor himself preached. He spoke without a manuscript, and plainly without having very thoroughly directed his mind to his subject. His discourse, therefore, though not loose or desultory, was a little trite. Yet it was highly practical and adapted to be useful. I could not but think that more study and greater elaboration should have characterized it, to cause it to be in keeping with the rich mahoganies of the grand building in which it was delivered, and with the vast, respec table-looking, and attentive congregation to which it was addressed. The preacher is an exceedingly graceful, digni fied, and fluent speaker, with a very slight tinge of the Irish brogue : he gestures much, and his gestures and attitudes are always becoming and sometimes very imposing. His voice possesses more sweetness, distinctness, and compass, combined, than any other to which, so far as I can recollect, I have ever listened. After services, the day being very pleasant, I walked for an hour and a half, or more, in the Park. It is certainly very beautiful, and is kept in the very best order. It is large, contains numerous shady groves, among which graveled avenues wind, and has a fine artificial lake. It is divided into two parts, one part being accessible only to those who, on their paying for them, are furnished with keys to open the gates ; a practice of exclusiveness very common in all the cities of the British Islands ex cept London, which copies Paris. In the evening I wor shiped with the 'congregation of the celebrated Congrega tional divine, Dr. Raffles. It met in the lecture-room ofthe Mechanics' Institute, the church, or rather chapel, belonging to it, being about being painted. A stranger preached, without using a manuscript, a most excellent and very care fully prepared discourse. The doctor himself is absent on 336 TRAVELS IN FRANCE the continent, recruiting his health. One of his parishioners told me that, when he agreed to settle with his church, he reserved,' with a view to the recreation necessary to health and usefulness, several Sabbaths, — if I understood correctly, six, — in each year. Of course, this reservation explains his present absence. Again, before winding up what I am writing about Liver pool, I ought to say something as to the present amount of her population and the history of its increase. Originally this city was a mere fishing-village. In 1650, this village had become sufficiently mercantile and wealthy to own twenty- four small vessels, navigated by seventy-six seamen. The number of its inhabitants, in 1700, — it, from a village, hav ing now become a town, — had reached 5000 souls. This number, in 1773, had grown to 34,000; in 1801, to 77,000; in 1821, to 118,000, and, with the suburbs, to 141,000 ; and, ten years later, in 1831, to 163,000, and, with the suburbs, to 200,000. And, three years ago, in 1852, the population had increased to 360,000. I will conclude this epistle with an account of my excur sion, on last Friday, to the City of Chester ; going thither on the day named, and returning on the next. That city I have always regarded with much interest, and, as it is not distant from Liverpool more than seventeen miles, with a railroad between, I concluded that I would spend a brief time in paying a visit to it. Accordingly, leaving my board ing-house, I passed over the Mersey to Birkenhead, between which place and Liverpool a steam ferry-boat regularly plies. This town contains a population of upwards of 30,000, and lies about fifteen miles to the north-northwest of Chester. Going to the railroad station, I was soon on my way to the city of my destination, and, after passing through a beauti ful and highly cultivated country filled with comfortable dwelling-houses and moderately good farm-buildings, arrived in it in a surprisingly short while. Chester makes a fine appearance, beinjr situated on an eminence. Its population is short of 30,000. The Dee flows through the suburbs ; and over it are two bridges, one of which, called Grosvenor bridge, is a single stone arch of two hundred feet in span. Around the town is an old and massive wall said to be two miles in circuit and constructed partially of hewn stone. From this wall the prospect is fine, AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 337 extending over a beautiful and widely stretching and highly improved expanse of fertile land, and, beyond this, in one direction, taking in several of the mountains of Wales. Seve ral of its towers remain, and from one of these Charles I., during the civil wars in his reign, viewed the progress and result ofthe severe battle fought, in the September of 1645, on Waverton Heath, four miles east-southeast of the city. The peculiarity of the construction of the old streets requires a slight notice. They were dug out of the rocky hill to the depth of a story, and, though now partially filled up, are still deep down. And higher than they, — yet covered over by the upper part of the houses so as to be protected against rain, — is a path for passengers. In some other places have I seen a few similarly constructed houses : — I have not been able to recollect where. The main things, however, that call for the notice of the stranger, are, the old abbey and cathedral, Trinity Church, and the castle. The abbey and cathedral are venerable and massive piles, which show in many things the wasting opera tion of time. They contain an old Saxon arch, under which the visitor passes, of eleven hundred years of age. They also contain many sepulchral monuments. Nor ought the coffin of Hugh Lupus/'Earl of Chester, which has its rest ing-place in the chapter-house, be forgotten ; a powerful nobleman ofthe reign ofthe Conqueror, and the main agent in subduing the old Britons in the province of Flint. Tri nity Church is remarkable as containing the mortal remains of two very illustrious men : the excellent, laborious, and fertile-minded Matthew Henry, (the evangelical commenta tor,) and the exceedingly sprightly and elegant moral poet, Thomas Parnel. And as to the castle, it is a magnificent modern erection, but on the site of the old castle which had been built by the Conqueror, and which was the seat, in for mer times, of the Earls of Chester. — I would only add in re lation to the city of which I am writing, that it was, in the days of the Romans, a station of their army ; and we know not only this in the general, but also we know of the fact, in particular, of the Twentieth Legion having been posted there about thirty years after the death of the Saviour, or about contemporaneously with Luke's writing of his Gospel, and with Paul's writing of his Epistle to the Ephesians. In connection with this statement, I may remark that a Roman 28 338 TRAVELS IN PRANCE altar is still in existence, now in the possession of a nobleman in the vicinity, the Marquis of Westminster, that was dug up in said place ; which altar had been consecrated, by the le gion spoken of, as the inscription chiseled on it states, to the Nymphs and Fountains. Having gratified my curiosity in staying in, and looking at, during parts of two days, the ancient and venerable City of Chester, I returned to Birkenhead, and thence soon found my way to my place of tarrying, in Liverpool. Yours, &c, M. F. On Shipboard in tub Meesev, Opposite 1 Liverpool,— Wednesday, the 12th. j P. S. — You will perceive from the date on the first page that this letter has been written two days. But I kept it unsealed in my pocket till now. I have leave to go ashore, for the last time, for an hour ; and, soon after that, our offi cers expect a steam-tug to come to take us out to sea. I came finally and fully on board, on yesterday. I ought to add that, since I moved my baggage into the ship, (I myself being also aboard at the time,) there Jjas been quite a heavy firing from the batteries on the river, the meaning of which we out of the town were, at the time of its occurrence, unable to divine. However, it was soon explained to us that the news had be.en telegraphed that the Allies have, at long last, (on the 8th inst.,) taken Sebastopol, or rather only the south side of that city. And verily the Liverpool cannon have not failed, with all their throats, to triumph loudly be cause thereof. Thus we are about to leave Europe simul taneously with an event that is supposed to involve the ter mination of the most terrible siege of modern days. At Se bastopol, the Russians, — though the tyrants of Poland they are, and the enemies everywhere of liberal institutions, — have covered themselves with glory. Yet every friend of civiliza tion, of liberty, of human progress, and of Bible Christianity, ought to rejoice that French and British bravery and skill have become victorious; thus preventing Russia, at least till after the lapse of many years, from gaining the supremacy among the nations. AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 339 NO. XXXI. Now in New York — Detained — Occupied in Writing out, &c. — Tugged from Liverpool Docks to Sea by, &c. — Head Winds — A Mountain in Kerry the Last, Ac. — Course — Brief Hurricane — A Severe Gale — A Dnath— Average per Diem Headway— Gulf Stream— Bank of Newfoundland — Sea-Weed— The Petrel— Tho Hagnel— Porpoises — A Black Fish — Young Whales — A Shark — Company — Preaching— Sunset — Pilot- Boat— Lighthouse Light visible — Into New York Bay — Voyage up — Retrospect — French Agriculture — Forests— English Agriculture— Woods— Horses and Cattle — Crops — Cobbet and Maize — Draining — Fences— Homesteads of the Wealthy — Scotch Agriculture — Farms too Large— Irish Agriculture — Central Plateau of Ireland— The Proportion of Crops, Relatively to. &c. — Inipruvement — Life, Property and Reputation, (Security as to,) — Morals and Religion in France — Catholicism — Protest antism — Morals and Religion in England — Defects — Established Church of Eng land — Its Parties — Dissenters — Morals and Religion in Scotland — Religious Denomi nations — Morals and Religion in Ireland — Temperance in, &c. — Religious Denomina tions — Their States, Ac. — Concluding of, &c. New York, October, 1855. My last letter to you was put into the Liverpool post- office on the 12th ultimo, and all the intervening time be tween that date and that of two days back has been spent on board the American Union in plowing the waters ofthe At lantic. I got my trunks fully clear of the ship this morning, and I would now be on my way home if it were not for some small dutiable articles which I have brought across with me, that I cannot receive for a short time. Meanwhile, I am occupying my spare minutes in writing out some account of my voyage, and in making some miscel laneous reflections on some matters of a general interest that passed under my notice while in France and the British Islands. I sailed from Liverpool on Wednesday, the 12th of Sep tember, — the day on which, I have said, I mailed my letter, — and, as this is Wednesday, the 17th of October, thus just five weeks ago. When our ship took up anchor, the wind being unfavorable, she was tugged out to sea by a steam-tug. A little before night, we had fully entered upon the broad waters ofthe Irish channel, leaving behind us Old England, — " That fortress built by nature for herself; " "That precious stone set in the silver sea Which serves it, in the office of a wall, Or as a moat, defensive .to a house." For a few hours the breeze in the channel was propitious, 340 travels in France but only for a few hours. Owing to head-winds we were a week before we had doubled the southern point of Ireland, Cape Clear. Then, on account of the wind, we kept, for some time, (tacking after every short while,) a northwest course. On the morning of Friday, the 21st, I took my last look of Ireland ; the last land visible being one of the lofty mountains of the County Kerry. Though commencing our voyage by keeping northwest, our captain determined to make his passage by a somewhat southern track, and thus, in a few days, we found ourselves in a more southern latitude. I do not intend to weary you with the tedious details of our voyage. It will suffice to mention a few things. On Mon day, the 24th of September, just after sunrise, we had a hur ricane which lasted, however, only three-quarters of an hour. If the officers of the ship had not been warned by the baro meter, there might have been considerable danger. Again, on Wednesday, the 26th, we had a tremendous gale which lasted eight hours. It tore our sails, though trimmed to meet its coming, into fragments, and I have learned, since reaching this city, that most ships other than our own, ex posed to it, were dismasted. In this gale, the danger of perishing was not slight. After the wind had been blowing for three or four hours, the waves rose to a vast height. I doubt whether they ever rise higher. It is said they may surge to thirty-two feet above the level of the sea, and that the valley between them may, in depth, be as much. This may give you a vague idea of the plunges that our vessel had to make, and of the huge trough in which she had some times to lie. The occurrence of a very small accident, while thus tossed, might have been fatal. But Providence kindly watched over us. Two days after this storm, (at 8 p.m. of the 28th,) a young man, a respectable mechanic, died. When the voyage commenced, he had been healthy and vigorous, but, owing to an impaired action of the organs of digestion, a disease very common at sea, had become sickly. During the tremendous heavings of the vessel in the late storm, he had received a severe fall. These two causes co-operating brought on his death. He was buried on the morning of the 29th. Our ship, in her late voyage, made, on an average, one hundred miles, in a straight line, each twenty-four hours, toward the port of her destination, and this, the first mate AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 341 told me, is about the medium of what is accomplished by ships bound westward from Europe ; though ships from America to Europe, on account of the prevalence of winds from the west on the Atlantic and of the direction of the current in the sea between Europe and America, voyage much faster. A voyage by a sail-ship is usually exceedingly dull and monotonous, and mine has been no exception to the general rule. Yet there were not wanting things to give it variety. We passed the Gulf Stream, (crossing it with a slant,) near where it grazes the southern extremity of the bank of New foundland, coming on this bank at eight o'clock ofthe morning of Wednesday, October 3d, and leaving it at ten of the morn ing of October 4th ; our ship while on it, on an average, running seven knots an hour. And here it may not be out of place to say that that great ocean current, (the Stream,) and this great submarine plateau, (the bank,) were to me themes of unceasing curiosity so long as I was in contact with either. The bank of Newfoundland, (celebrated for its fishery,) is six hundred miles in length, and at its greatest breadth two hundred miles ; has a varying depth of from twenty-five to ninety-five fathoms ; and lies on a bottom of solid rock. Also, its water is sixteen degrees colder than the surrounding water, so that, by testing it with a ther mometer, one can easily tell when he has crossed it. And as to the Gulf Stream ; coming from the West Indies, skirting along the shores of the United States, and then going over the Atlantic, (its indigo-blue colored water being, by five de grees, warmer than the contiguous sea, and, by twenty-one degrees, warmer than that on the bank,) how much wonder may it reasonably be expected to excite ! Where we passed the Stream it is eighty marine leagues in width, and, in addi tion to this actual width, its heat is felt very far beyond it in the waters of the Atlantic ; something of this warmth, it is said, being perceptible for even a thousand miles. While crossing this mysterious ocean-river, one is perpetually inte rested in watching the innumerable small green bunches of sea-weed or fucus, which float on it, with long and narrow fleshy leaves shooting out from slender stems. Sometimes this weed has little circular pods which look like its fruit. Does said sea-weed grow on the bosom of the waters ? Or does it grow at the bottom ? Or has it its origin in the fucus 28* 342 TRAVELS IN FRANCE banks lying, one in 24° north latitude, and the other in 31° north ; both being in about 60° west from Greenwich ? Then, also, the appearance of ships, of fish, and of birds, breaks in upon the monotony of a sea-voyage. Ships were occasionally visible in the distance, and they seldom, in pleasant weather, parsed without being inspected by me by a powerful telescope' But the birds and fish were greater objects of curiosity than the ships. Especially, the little petrel, though to me, by no means, a stranger, was an object of notice. These little birds, otherwise called Mother Cary's Chickens, often show themselves in great numbers. They are either of a brownish, or of a sooty-black, and appear never to alight. For the sake of collecting grease or other food, they will often skim, as if with a rap"id tiptoe running- walk, along the water, suspending themselves by the extend ing of their wings. When they emit any voice, they cry weet, weet ; which, as one class of them at least, the stormy petrel, is supposed to come as a presage of a storm, the sailors interpret to be the words, wet, wet, — the little bird thus meaning to say, it seems, stormy, stormy. It is said to be named petrel from its walking on the water as the Apostle Peter did. Another bird, that, when nearing the New World, excited my curiosity, was a very large one called the hagnel. As to its character, I was ignorant, and was not able to get any valuable information. Perhaps some one better fur nished with books of reference than I am just now, can tell you all about it. At all events, it is a bold sea-going bird, and a strong flier. Nor, as I came across, were varieties of fish lacking, to break in upon the monotony of my seafaring. We were visited, — I mean, so far as I saw, — by various com panies of porpoises, by a black fish, by three young whales, (mere puppies when compared with cetaceous monsters that I have before seen,) and by a huge shark or sharks. But what contributes more than anything else to break in upon the dull sameness of a sea voyage is the society into which the traveler is temporarily cast. Among those with whom I had most intercourse were two Scotchmen, (one a resident of New York, and the other a farmer in Canada,) a Canadian who had served as a captain of the revoltists during the civil commotions of British America some years ago, an Irish physician, (a resident of England, and in reli gion a Roman Catholic,) a young Englishman, (son to an AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 343 old wooden-legged commander of the British navy in the time of the Napoleon wars,) a young Irishman from the Catholic College of Lonvain, a Scotch Baptist lady, a lady belonging to the Sisters of Charity, and a Jew from Russia, who had been serving in the Russian cavalry in the Crimea, but who, having been forced to eplist, had deserted. With all of these I had conversations on all sorts of subjects. Having preached on the second Sabbath after our depar ture from the Mersey, and, in the discourse, having quoted Isaiah, vii. 14, — "Therefore the Lord himself shall give you a sign ; Behold a virgin shall conceive and bfear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel," — the Jew spoken of, after religious services were over, came to me and entered into conversation. He referred to the quotation that I had made from the seventh chapter of Isaiah, affirming that the text quoted should have been rendered "a young woman shall con ceive." He quoted authorities in favor of this view, throw ing upon me the burden of proving that the word translated, in our Bible, " virgin," should have any more restricted mean ing than what he gave it. To him I briefly replied with the arguments ordinarily employed by Christians in relation to this matter, so far as they occurred to me; — these arguments being, that the intention of Isaiah, in the passage under con sideration, was to confirm faith, in those who would, in their day, witness the fulfillment of the prophecy, by a miraculous sign, and that there would not be anythiug extraordinary in a young woman's bearing a child, but that it would be a miracle that a virgin should ; that those who have examined the mat ter most thoroughly have told us that the Chaldea paraphrase on the verse, and the Septuagint translation of it, both ex plain the word under discussion to denote a virgin, and that no higher authorities as to the ancient meaning of Hebrew words can be found; that the Apostles knew Hebrew well, and that they take the word to mean virgin; and that if the word, in the passage under dispute, so trans lated, have not this sense, then, (other words used as synonymes, being still more liable to a similar objection,) there is no term in the Hebrew language for virgin. I need scarcely tell you that he was, by no means, satisfied. And, as to myself, I had no desire to engage in a protracted discussion. He lent me several Hebrew works, with which class of books he was abundantly supplied, and also gave 344 TRAVELS IN PRANCE me a portion of the yearly file of a Jewish newspaper. I found him an exceedingly intelligent man, one versed in several modern tongues,- — the Russian, Turkish, French, and English. Another Jew, his companion, was also intelligent, and, like him, conversable. As these men did not belong to the same class of passengers with me, I would have formed no acquaintance with them if I had not been thrown into contact with them in consequence of my preaching. But, though I conversed frequently with the prior-spoken-of Jew, (about Russia, her late Czar, her clergy, and her army,) I had still more' talk with the other persons referred to above. Indeed, with them I was necessarily in unceasing contact. With the Canadians, I frequently discussed politics. One of them, I said, had been in the revolt, (in the years 1837-38,) in the Canadas. And another, by birth a Scotchman, as has been already mentioned, told me that he did not know a single Scotchman in those colonies, — a wonderful metamorphosis, within the last fifty years, in the Scottish character, — who had not been in arms, during the outbreak in them, where an opportunity was within his reach. Yet both these men agreed in asserting the people of British America to be now loyal to the British crown. Both expressed themselves in kindly terms toward the United States, though they affirmed these to be worse governed than their own country. In proof of their assertion, one of them went to his trunk and brought me a number of a newspaper published at Toronto, " The News of the Week," (of July 21, 1855,) in which the statement is made, — a statement, for whose contradiction I was unpre pared, — that no bank had failed in Canada during nineteen years, while that, in the United States, three hundred and sixty-seven banks had suspended payment in the last year. They asked whether a nation, the currency of which was in such a state, could be viewed as intelligently, or, in any sense, well governed. But I will not trouble you with further accounts of the various conversations that I had on shipboard. Suffice it to say that they were often interest ing, and, at all times, served to while away that tedium which, in a voyage across the Atlantic in a sail-ship, becomes so irksome. But I cannot pretend to give you an account of my voy age, however succinct, without saying something of some of the sunrises that I saw when approaching America, and AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 345 especially one particularly glorious sunset. Such sunrises are, I believe, never seen on land. First would be seen a dull light amid the far-spread darkness ; then a streak ; then a tinge ; then a rosy blush ; then a brightness, making the cloudlets in the east to appear successively like dull copper, like gold, like immense flame-colored tableaux of glass, and then like a hot furnace filled with intensely bright and fluid gold. While, amid the fiery drapery of the eastern concave, would come forth, looking like an orb of fire, the sun him self. These splendors, however, I ought to remark, being indicative of wet and foul weather. On the occasion of the sunset referred to, there was a glory attendant on the with drawal of the great luminary, to which no recollections can do the faintest justice. In it were combined far more than the beauty, brilliancy, and sprighliness, of the merry dancers of the Shetlands, and far more than the splendor and gor- geousness of an Italian sunset. Around it gathered, (chaos blending with order,) immense masses of clouds, resting on the face of the azure of the sky; green, gold, and crimsoji, delicately penciled and ever-changing, appearing around the well-defined outlines of these clouds, and an intense red, the prognostic surely indicating fair weather, characterizing their centre and its adjacent parts. I have often admired Thomson's poetic description of the splendors of a sunset, yet even it falls far short of the magnificent spectacle wit nessed by me on the occasion of which I am speaking. But, though the description of the great descriptive poet falls short, it is so beautiful that I cannot but think it appro priate to quote. He says, — "Low walks the Sun, and broadens, by degrees, Just o'er the verge of day. The shifting clouds Assembled gay, a rich gorgeous train, In all their pomp, attend bis setting throne. Air, earth, and ocean, smile immense. And now, As if his weary chariot sought the bowers Of Amphitrite and her attending nymphs, (So Grecian fable sung,) he dips his orb, — Now half immersed; and now, a golden curve, Gives one bright glance: then total disappears." So wrote the poet, and his delineation is certainly, beyond measure, rich and gorgeous. Yet its generalness is such as to prevent it from giving any adequate conception of the scene that I have, just now, in my mind's eye. 346 TRAVELS IN PRANCE At length, on Thursday, the 11th inst., our ship being still very far out at sea, a New York pilot-boat approached us and furnished us with a pilot. Next, our vessel reached, on the 13th inst., — Saturday, — near enough to the American coast for us to have a view, before daybreak, of a light. But, on account of a strong wind off the land, we were, through Saturday, still strug gling to approach the mouth of New York Bay ; and when I awoke, on Sabbath morning, I found that we were scarcely in as favorable position as we had occupied on the evening before. Eventually, we came within a few miles. Even yet, we did not feel ourselves secure, since the bay cannot be readily entered by sail-ships except with a wind from one particular quarter, and vessels as near as ours have often been blown off for a week. But our uneasiness was finally dispelled by the approach of a steam-tug which ventured through the rough waters to us and brought us in. Thus did we reach a place where we were secure against being carried out to sea again in any possible contingency. Nor did we willingly make any long delays after we had entered the bay till we made our way to this city, only stopping once (though that stop involved a long detention) in our way up. Of our voyage up, I will only say that, during it, our eyes were unceasingly feasted by the sight of the green shores of Staten Island and Long Island, coupled with views, in quick succession, of woods, of country-seats, of villages, of ships of all sizes under sail, and of dashing steam boats moving rapidly in all directions. I will wind up this imperfect account of my voyage by saying that our ship now lies in the safe and spacious har bor of New York, one of the noblest and most beautiful any where to be found. I have seen many, and I have seen none to surpass, and few to equal it ; a harbor which occu pies the wide circuit of twenty-five miles,^-with a width of from about a mile and a half to five miles and a half, and with a depth of water sufficient for the largest ships of war, — and which could contain in its spacious land-locked basin the united navies of the world. There she now lies off the Battery, and not very far from Governor's Island ; (an ex panse of about seventy acres, and containing three strong fortifications;) she being, also, in full view of Bedloe's Islet, rendered so picturesque by the battery on it and by the trees AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 347 planted along its rampart, and of Ellis's Islet, (once Gibbet Islet,) on which, in days long past, buccaneers and other pirates so often paid the penalty of the offences committed by them in their free rovings on the ocean. She has borne us safely across the Atlantic, and may she be spared to make many another prosperous passage. Proceeding on the presumption that you would wish to learn something further of the countries visited by me than what I have already communicated in the letters that I ad dressed to you at various times during my absence, I will, in the sequel of this letter, say something, — though in a way somewhat abstract, — of two or three things that I have hitherto pretty much passed by, but which are of such im portance that it would be an unpardonable oversight to omit altogether the special mention of them. As my time here will, in all likelihood, be short, I will necessarily be very brief in what I will say. In the remarks which I am about to make, I will confine myself to the three general heads of agriculture, of security as to life, property, and reputation, and that of morals and religion. And I will rather passingly touch on these great topics than attempt to discuss them. In my journeyings through France and the British Islands, I have perpetually had an eye to the state of agriculture. This art is, of all others, the most indispensable to national prosperity. Without skill in it, no nation can rise high. One who comes from France to Britain, is at once struck with the difference between the rural landscapes of the two countries. In France the country is perfectly open, the lands being unenclosed by fences or hedges, while in Eng land the country is divided into enclosures of two, five, ten, twenty, or fifty acres. In the former, fields are divided from each other merely by a furrow, and even farms are separated by nothing more than slight ditches, or ridges, with occasional rows of trees. In the latter, every field, to say nothing of farms or estates, is separated from contigu ous fields by quickset hedges or other substantial fences. Also, in France there are but few farmhouses, (and only here and there an old chateau,) standing by themselves, husband men mostly living in villages; while England is dotted over with such domicils. Again, the roads in France are gene rally unenclosed, depredations being prevented by old men acting as guards ; while, in England, they wind along 348 TRAVELS IN PRANCE through close hedge's often almost impenetrable to vision, and look not unlike canals between deep banks. More over, in England one misses the vineyards with vines in rows and hills, — and each clump of vines supported by a stick from three to four and a half feet in length, — which frequently met my view in some parts of France, especially in the val ley of the Seine. With respect to French agriculture, I would observe that it differs very widely from what we are used to in the United States. In these, farms vary from fifty, eighty, one hun dred and sixty, and three hundred acres in the North, up to six hundred, one thousand, and even two or three thou sand acres, or more, in the South. On the other hand, French farms, though occasionally large, only reach the average size of five acres a piece. In the one country, — the differ ence in the state of things arising from the difference in the size of farms, — horses, improved agricultural implements, and machinery, are much more in use than in the other. Yet the Frenchman raises a great deal more off the same quantity of soil than the American can. One is struck, in traveling along the roads in France, with the small number of cattle that he meets with in the fields. I only recollect to have seen in that country, out of doors, something short of half a dozen cows. The reason of this is that French agriculturalists, instead of pasturing their cattle upon the ground where the grass grows, cut-down the herbage and give it to them, green or in hay, in the stable. I was struck, in France, with a sort of plows, that I saw in use, and that I have never met with in America. These plows are called the Walloon plows, and' are furnished, each, with two wheels fixed to the beam : they are intended for plowing deep in heavy lands. And, when speaking of French agriculture, I ought not to omit to say a word in reference to the kindred subject of French forests; — kindred, I call it, since I have occasionally seen the farm and the forest to be side by side. The forests of France are often of considerable size; that of Fontainbleau containing thirty-five thousand acres, and that of Chambord, twenty thousand. I, however, was not in either the one or the other of, these. But I have passed, traveling by railroad, through the Forest of St. Germain, and may therefore make some reference to it of my personal know ledge. The timber, as a general thing, seemed small, when AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 349, compared with what I have seen in America, yet it was thrifty. Forests and woods in France are objects of special governmental care. This arises from the scarcity of timber, and from the indispensableness of the article for fuel ; wood and charcoal being mainly employed for this use. For these reasons, among others, it is illegal to cut woods oftener than once in the period of eighteen years. In England, the agricultural art has been carried to great perfection. At the time ofthe invasion of the Conqueror, it was in an exceedingly rude state, but, owing to the transplan tation across the channel, at that epoch, from Normandy and Flanders, of skillful husbandmen, it has ever since been on the advance. And the husbandmen were urged on in their improvements by the nobility and clergy. The deep interest generally taken in the practice of the art may be learned from the fact that Thomas A'Becket, even when Archbishop of Canterbury, used to assist in making hay and in reaping harvest. At the present time English agriculture is in a most flourishing condition. The horses, the black-cattle, the sheep, the swine, the poultry, the fields, the hedges and fences, the tools, the machinery, the herbage, the crops, — all indicate a high state of progress in rural economy. Some of the things, that most strongly draw the notice of a stran ger looking at the farms of England, may as well be briefly noticed. „ In gazing upon an English landscape, one cannot fail to be struck with the wooded appearance that the country pre sents. Everywhere trees and groves meet the eye in all di rections. Indeed, there are no less than upwards of sixty thousand acres of royal forest alone.' It is certain that, of all countries long inhabited by a civilized people, South Britain is one of those best supplied with both the useful and ornamental woods. Again, in sojourning in a country new to us, we are apt to inspect closely the horses and other cattle. This I was led to do, while in England. With respect to horses, about two-thirds of them, or one million of horses, are estimated to be employed, in England and Wales, in farm work ; two horses being ordinarily made use of for the tilling of each forty acres, — while oxen are used, more or less, for the per formance of agricultural labor, in some counties, but only in some. Some of the draft-horses far exceed in size the Co- 29 350 TRAVELS IN PRANCE nestoga horse of Pennsylvania, large though he is ; being, in some few instances, seven and one-half feet high, and, every way, proportioned to this height, and possessing, along with their immense size and weight, (but with great slowness of movement,) almost the strength of the elephant. Those horses not used in doing farm labor, in the same territory, are reckoned to amount to about five hundred thousand, and are largely, — though far from being so exclusively, — of the breed called hunters ; a cross-breed having in their veins the blood of the old European horse, mingled, in various pro portions, with that of the Arab, Persian, and Barbary. It is this cross-breed that furnishes the war-steed, the true "fiery Pegasus." With respect to. black-cattle, South Bri tain has long been celebrated. Her various breeds, (the Cravens, the Cauleys, and the Dishleys ; and the Holder- nesses, the Teaswaters, the Yorkshires, the Durhams, and the Northumberlands,) are sought for by the improvers of stock, everywhere, and highly valued. Again, while in England, the crops raised were things that drew my notice. I learned that about one-half of the lands capable of cultivation are under pasturage or meadow. This is one of the things that give at once beauty and richness to the country. Wheat is, of course, a grand staple. The quantity raised on an acre, as I was told by a farmer, ranges from ten to sixty bushels, about twenty-five bushels being the medium. The other crops are, barley, peas, beans, pota toes, turnips, carrots, flax, hemp, hops, and mangel-wurzel. An attempt was made, about thirty years ago, by the late Honorable William Cobbett, to introduce Indian-corn, but it proved a failure. Of all countries, England, — along with Scotland and Ireland, — is the country for the turnip, its broad leaves imbibing nourishment from the circumambient moist atmosphere. Again, drainage forms an important department of Eng lish husbandry. There are, of course, several ways of drain ing land. That now most in vogue is tile-draining. The tile is usually made like a pipe, but instead of being entirely round, is open on the side to be put downmost in the drain, the edges overlapping each other. It is a principle that no drain should exceed three hundred yards in length. In making this sort of improvements, large ditches are cut like canals, each of these ditches ending in a natural stream. Then, be tween said ditches, small reservoirs are constructed. Into AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 351 each reservoir, earthen or tile pipes, (such as described,) convey the moisture to be carried off. And in connection with these things, a large tile-pipe conducts the water from each reservoir into the canal excavated for its reception. In this manner, the excess of water readily makes its way into natural channels. Again, in traveling, the character of the fences is almost necessarily an object of attention. One sees, in England, very little of the post-and-rail fence of some parts of the United States, and nothing at all of their worm-fence. She has, however, in lieu, what is both more beautiful and more permanent, white-thorn and holly hedges ; kinds of fences, that, with proper trimming and cutting, may be made to last for centuries. She has also, though sparingly, wire, and even iron fences. In addition to these sorts, there is also another kind to be met with in the domains of the gentry; I speak of the sunken fence. This sort of fence is formed by digging a very deep and broad trench, and by then cutting off one side of this trench so as to form, from the bottom, an ascent at an angle of about forty-five degrees ; the other side being allowed to remain in what is nearly a perpendicular. Such fences give an apparent amplitude to the fields, and con tribute to give spaciousness and grandeur to the landscape^ They would perhaps be, of all the artificial means employed for the division of portions of land, the most eligible in many cases, if it were not that they are liable to fill up. And again, in passing through a country we are led to look closely at the farm-houses. These, in England, are often of restricted size, and thatched. In this point of view, that country is far behind the old parts of this. The reason, no doubt, is that here the farmer owns the soil in fee-simple, while there he holds it upon lease. Yet, though a renter, he is often quite as rich as his American brother. But, as the land is not his, he will make no improvements that will not make a return within the period of his tenure. I ought to add that there are many farm-houses that are exceptions to this general statement. When writing in relation to the agriculture and farms of England, I ought not, by any means, to omit reference to the homesteads of the titled and wealthy. These are upon a scale so grand that, it is hard to form a conception of it, without a personal inspection of them. And they are to be met with everywhere, all over the face of the country. Some 352 TRAVELS IN FRANCE few, however, are specially celebrated. At the head of these few are to be put, the homesteads of Earl Spencer, 'of the Duke of Richmond, and of the Duke of Devonshire. That of Earl Spencer contains ten thousand acres, that of the Duke of Richmond twenty-three thousand, and that of the Duke of Devonshire, three thousand five hundred. The parks, and forest, connected with Windsor Castle, far, almost inconceivably far, exceed even these. But, while looking over them, and ready to blame the extravagance displayed in the appropriation of so much land to purposes of mere pleasure, I was corrected in my opinion by being told that that vast expanse of royal domain, over which I was gazing, was mainly used as a vast stock-farm. So, also, probably is the case with the enclosures of the noblemen above named. Of these men, the one last named was, probably, a few years ago, the most opulent man, in income from landed property, in the world ; (not even the richest of the princes and dukes of Russia, Austria, or Great Britain, excepted;) his yearly in come having been, it is affirmed, one half million pounds ster ling, per year. Yet I ought to add, in order to my giving a correct idea of things as they are, that if there be vast estates in England, there are, along with these, very many small ones ; two hundred pounds a year being the average value of English estates. I will only further remark, in relation to this topic, that the homesteads and parks, of the nobility and gentry of England, are always enriched and beautified with woods and groves, these being mostly made up of the most highly valued sorts of timber ; the oak, the beech, the chestnut, the ash, the elm, the yew, and the various species of pine, being more particularly prevalent. . Having said so much of the agriculture Cf South Britain, I will be comparatively brief in regard to that of Scotland and Ireland. As it respects agriculture, Scotland is, in the general, even in advance of her southern sister ; at least, such is the case with the lowlands. Perhaps in the Lothians, (that is, Had dington, Edinburgh, and Linlithgow shires,) and in some other parts of the country, the very best farmers in the world are to be met with. I have thought that the most objec tionable thing about Scotch farming is the size of the farms. These often include a thousand acres, and, in pasture-dis tricts, often two thousand five hundred, and even five thou sand acres. This is, at once a great agricultural, social, and AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 353 political evil. No farm in an old country should exceed one hundred and fifty, or, at most, three hundred acres. The fact is, there is no evil so great as the one of which I speak, except the existence of a vast number of petty farms, with no large ones commingled. Scotland, though, in many parts well wooded, is, in many places, very bare of trees ; yet, to compensate for this, she has immense pine and fir forests, some of these being natural, and others planted by the great landowners. In some parts of North Britain, the wages of farm-laborers are better than in England. Thus I was in formed that, in the latter-named country, harvest-hands get, for the cutting of an acre of grain, eight, ten, twelve, and Occasionally fourteen shillings, cosnet, as I heard it called, (that is, boarding and lodging themselves,) while, in the former-named country, they get nearly this and are boarded. I would only add, that the crops raised in the two countries are much alike; only that the more northern climate pro duces a smaller quantity of wheat, but, to make up in some small degree for this, a larger quantity of oats of an extra ordinary fine quality. As to the state of agriculture in Ireland, I would observe that, with some few exceptions, it is considerably behind what is its state in England and Scotland. Indeed, in the British Islands a gradation may be remarked from the very best agriculture in the world to that which, at the best, is indifferent. The various steps downward, in the progress of this gradation, may be thus expressed : first, Kent and the Lothians; secondly, the West of England, Wales, and a portion of Scotland ; thirdly, the eastern and northern parts of Ireland ; and, fourthly, the western and southern parts of Ireland. In Ireland, farms vary greatly in size. The larger number ranges from five up to forty acres, though some are mere lots of one acre each ; while many amount to one hundred, one hundred and fifty, and two hun dred acres. I here speak of farms in use for the raising of grain. However, though, as I have said, grain -raising farms are mostly small, Irish pasture-farms are frequently very large. Thus, in the County of Roscommon, and the same is true of some other counties, good farms range from five hundred to a thousand acres ; and even larger farms than these are to be met with, five hundred acres being sometimes contained in a single field. In the County of Cork, a single 29* 354 TRAVELS IN FRANCE farmer will sometimes have on his farm from one hundred to two hundred milch cows. And the sward on which these feed will, in many instances, not have been broken for one hun dred and fifty years ; the richness of the milk being en hanced by the oldness of the sward. The great central pla teau of Ireland is mainly limestone — which, it is well known, always is in conjunction with a strong and fertile soil. And, beginning in the County Sligo, in the northwest, there runs through the island, in a southeastern direction, a rich tract of land, called the golden vein. So rich is this tract, that the milk of the cattle fed on its grass is unfit for being con verted into butter; the butter made from it being too strong for use on the table. Perhaps I may assist you in forming an idea of the rural economy of Ireland by giving, from a table before me, the proportion of the chief crops raised in it in the last year, (1854.) In doing this, satisfied with a vague approximation, I will avoid all fractional calcula tions. Oats, which, there, are nearly as large as small wheat, constitute the capital crop ; two millions forty-three thousand four hundred and sixty-six acres of land having been employed in raising this grain, in the year named. In that year, there were cultivated nearly five acres of oats to one of wheat; about eight acres of oats to one of barley; about twenty-nine acres of the same grain to one of bere and rye ; about forty to one of beans and peas ; nearly two and three-fourths acres to one of potatoes ; about six acres to one of turnips ; and about fourteen acres to one of flax. Flax, there, like cotton in the southern parts of this coun try, is one of the most profitable crops. But, to grow well, it requires a rich, sandy loam. About four-fifths of the population live by agriculture. Once, (and to a considera ble extent yet,) the potato was the main dependence of the laborer's children for food. But the loss of that crop, in the years 1845-6-7, has greatly lessened his dependence on this esculent. In the year 1847 alone, no less than two million tons of this staple food of the poor man's family, in conse quence of the potato disease, were lost. To what I have said, I would merely add that the agricultural department of Irish industry is evidently advancing, in the march of im provement, with rapid strides. The moors, the fields, the fences, the agricultural implements, in fact everything con nected with the business of farming, all testify to this. You will allow me here to observe that what I have said AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 355 of the agriculture and rural economy of England is so ap plicable, — after the explanatory statements that have just been made, — to Scotland and Ireland, that, with respect to their husbandry, I have felt at liberty to be briefer than in relation to that of the first-named country. I now proceed to say a few words as to the security of life, property, and reputation, enjoyed by the inhabitants of France and of the British Islands. It is certain that secu rity as to these things is, of all worldly things, the most im portant to man's happiness. If an individual lie under a reasonable apprehension of losing these, or any of these, the cup from which he drinks must evermore be embittered. Indeed, the security of life, property, and good name, is one of the capital ends, — or, I might say, the capital end, — for which civil government exists, and, according as it accomplishes this end or fails to accomplish it, is it good or bad. But mere government taken alone, and by itself, cannot give men security.- The character of those with whom we live in propinquity, and with whom we have social and business intercourse, has much to do with the degree of our security. If the persons with whom we are conversant be reckless of life or blood-thirsty, if they be dis honest or untruthful, or if they be disregardful.of the fair fame of their neighbors, then, no matter what may be the political institutions under which we live, we are unsafe. No laws can possibly afford us adequate protection. And here I would explain that I do not speak of absolute but merely of comparative security. A freedom from the possi bility of injury or wrong, that will be above the reach of all contingencies, does not belong to earth. In France, the laws with respect to life, possessorial rights, and good name, are as reasonable, and are applied to particular cases with as much discretion and justice, as in any other country in the world. The French, with all their military dispositions, are not, when compared with other nations of European blood, addicted, disproportion ately to their numbers, to murder. Nor are they a dis honest people. They do not seek money with any extraor dinary avidity, nor usually by dishonest means. Neither is France a country in which slander of either the living or the dead is particularly indulged in. Nor is any depart ment of the French judiciary to be charged with either an ignorant, a partial, or a negligent administration of justice 356 TRAVELS IN FRANCE between man and man ; the bar of France, in our day, being equal to the best-educated in the world, and the bench of that country administering the law, with reference to indepen dence, capacity, assiduity, probity, and dignity, in a manner that would well deserve imitation from most other of even the most highly favored nations. Yet, after all, there is one thing there that is a vast source of want of perfect security ; I speak of the absence, very extensively, of a conscience that properly realizes a God to whom man is responsible, and a future existence. Without such conscience, a man's oath in a court of law cannot be a great deal better than his mere declaration on honor ; honor, unfortunately, being a thing that, on the part of the great body of men in all countries, is a non-entity. Also, there, where questions involving reli gious dissent come up in the courts for adjudication, the de cisions very frequently are such as to demonstrate that the impartiality, which prevails in relation to other things, is sadly lacking as to this class of judicial controversies. In the British Islands, no one can complain of the want of security, whether as it relates to person, estate, or repu tation. In them, there is much difficulty in acquiring estate or reputation, — a vastly greater difficulty than has to be sur mounted,, in order to their acquirement, in these United States, — but, when acquired, they are almost as secure as human life itself, and it is safer in the British Islands, (bating four or five counties in Ireland,) than in any other land on the globe. Indeed, this country, with all its admitted excellencies and advantages, is, as to the points of which I am speaking, behind, in my opinion, that. Here, and I have had some experience in such matters, I fear that frequently neither judges nor the keepers of public records are to be depended on, as to independence in exercising their official functions, carefulness against the commission of wrong, and integrity in the discharge of their duties, to the extent to which it is desirable they should be. The fact is, among us, a lack of fair dealing and of transparent candor, coupled with a thimble-rig mysteriousness in the alienation of property, is becoming too characteristic of quite a large portion of men of all classes. Such a state of things interferes immensely with the proper security of property. And, where men's proprietary rights are not safe from being heedlessly or dis honestly tampered with, it is scarcely to be expected that their good name will be viewed as having anything belong- AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 357 ing to it, bearing a semblance to sacredness. I will only add, as to this point, that, whatever may be the state of things elsewhere, in the British Islands, with very few ex ceptions, reputation, estate, and person, are as safe from wrong as it is reasonably to be expected that they will ever be, in any condition of society that can exist, till human na ture makes greatly nearer advances to perfection than it has yet reached. It now only remains that I say something of the states of morals and of religion in the countries from the visiting of which I am now returning. As to the state of morals and religion in France, you can scarcely look for me to say a great deal. My stay there was very brief, and, all the time, I was so busily engaged in inspecting objects of curiosity, as to have little time for ex amining into the moral and religious states of society. I must say that, how lax soever may be the moral code of the French, of this laxity I saw but little. I did not see a single intoxicated man in France. But though the vice of inebriety may be rare in that country, yet it is certain that vice in other forms is very prevalent ; loose morals, religious indifferentism, and infidelity in its worst forms, prevailing in the large cities generally, or at least extensively. Even prostitution is legalized in Paris, though I ought to mention that there is a circumstance connected with this legalization which does much to mitigate the evil. I refer to the cir cumstance that houses devoted to this purpose are required to keep their windows closed during the day, and are thus marked out to the abhorrence of the virtuous as they walk the streets. Catholicism in France, as everywhere else, de lights in forms and pomp, addressing itself but little to the understanding and the conscience, and thus contributing to mental imbecility and to the slow and gradual wasting of the moral faculty. Yet it is sustained even by those who see these effects, because it is thought to be politically unwise to disturb its reign. I was told by an intelligent French gentleman from the neighborhood of the northwestern frontier, himself a Catholic, (if believing in any religion,) that the great body of the priests, in the country districts of France and Belgium, do not statedly preach, and that, when they do, their sermons are so lame as to be entirely nn suited either to interest or instruct. Yet, among the French priesthood, I have seen some specimens of the no- 358- TRAVELS IN PRANCE blest-looking gentlemen that I have ever looked upon. With respect to the attendance in the Catholic churches, it did not seem, to me, so thin as I had been led to expect. From early in the morning of the Sabbath till night, each church is kept open, there being in it an unbroken succession of services. At each service a new congregation comes in, and thus, though at each service the congregation may be small, the aggregate attendance during the day may be large. With respect to French Protestantism, I remark that it ought to be contemplated as consisting of two entirely distinct and dissimilar parts. One of these two parts is, measuring it by the standard of Bible truth, exceedingly defective. It is partly . skeptical, partly neological and rationalistic, partly Unitarian, partly Erastian, and partly indifferentistic and worldly. The fact is, it retains little of Protestantism except the name. Protestantism is the reli gion of the Bible, but the Bible as an inspired book it almost totally ignores. The other, of the two parts into which French Protestantism is divided, is the very reverse of this. It is, in the main, scriptural as well as rational in its opinions and articles of faith ; spiritual in its homage to the Maker and moral Governor of the world ; full of humble, earnest application to the Saviour ; and abounding in all the Chris tian graces, in good morals, and in all good works. It is certain that very many of the children of the Huguenots have fallen from what was once their lofty eminence ; and a narrow attachment to the letter of old forms, along with a ministry extensively unconverted, has brought about this deplorable result. Protestantism is, however, again rising from its long-continued spiritual stupor and lethargy. I regret to say that Bible Christianity in France, how hum ble and unobtrusive soever it may strive to be, is not, at all times, by any means, secure of legal protection as to its rights. Romanism is very strong, and has few ideas as to any rights belonging to those who refuse implicit submission to her lofty claims. And infidelity'feels a still greater repug nance to Bible religion than does even the haughty spirit of Popery. Yet, though permits to Protestant schoolmasters, and for the opening of Protestant places of worship, are still often refused, the state of things, as it relates to religious li berty, has greatly improved in the last seventy years. Said the First Napoleon to O'Meara, in St. Helena, " The oath of the kings was to exterminate heretics, mine to protect all AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 359 worships. " Nor, in spite both of infidelity and Popery, has the spirit of this latter oath ceased to have vast influence. I also regret to say that, in France, the observance of the Sabbath is but little attended to. And this holds true not merely with respect to Catholics, but likewise with regard to Protestants. In illustration of the laxity as to Sabbath- keeping, prevalent among the Protestants, I give you a single statement on the authority of P. Edward Dove, Esq. This gentleman was in the company of a young French Huguenot clergyman, in the south of France, by whom he was invited to accompany him to a little town where he was going to preach on next Sunday week. " Why not preach next Sunday?" said Dove. "Oh, no," was the response; " next Sunday there is to be a bull-fight, and nobody ever comes to church when there is a bull-fight 1" I will conclude my observations on the state of religion in France by giving you some statistics illustrative of the past decline of Protestantism in that country, and of its present slow but sure advancement. It is matter of history that upwards of two hundred years ago, (in 1637, or fifty years before the revocation of the Edict of Nantes,) the French Huguenots had no less than eight hundred and six flourish ing churches. Yet, one hundred and seventy-eight years after this, in 1815, the Protestant clergy of the French na tion amounted only, according to one account, to two hun dred and thirty ; and according to another, to two hundred and fifty. In 1829, these had increased so that, at that date, there were three hundred and five pastors and four hundred and thirty-eight churches. And an official document makes the Protestant clergy of France, in 1837, to amount to three hundred and sixty-six. At present, they may be estimated to amount to above four hundred. I would remark that the number of the clergy is a better criterion of the state of French Protestantism than the number of their churches ; one pastor often filling many stations, — and barns, and other secular places, being often used as places of worship. How small is the influence of Protestantism in France, when put side by side with that of Roman Catholicism, may be gathered when I mention that, in 1828, the number of actively officiat ing priests was thirty-six thousand six hundred and forty-nine, and that at present it is between forty and fifty thousand, and that the worshiping assemblies of the priests are much larger than those of the pastors, 360 TRAVELS IN FRANCE As to the state of the British Islands in regard to morals and religion, I observe that the subject is so very ex tensive that I' find it difficult to attempt to say, in a brief way, anything on it at all. Also, their various provinces differ so widely with respect to their moral and religious conditions, as greatly to increase the difficulty of explaining, except by going into a lengthened disquisition, the matter under review. South Britain has so great a preponderance over the other parts of the British Islands, that it is always of great conse quence that her moral tone should be healthful. Earlier in the development of her civilization and of the elements of wealth and power, greatly superior in population and opu lence, and usually the arbitress of their political condition, she must always, — both directly as being incorporated with them, and by the operation of sympathy, — exercise over them a vast power. In South Britain, three great organizations of a moral character are at work in moulding the morals of the population. I speak of the Established Church, of the Dissenters, and of the Roman Catholics. All these parties should agree in promoting temperance, sexual purity, a re gard (more or less strict) for the Sabbath, and sterling honesty ; yet, as to all these things, South Britain most un doubtedly is far from being in a state entirely satisfactory. With respect to temperance in that branch of it that has regard to drinks, I observe that bottles, glasses, decanters, wines, and all sorts of liquors, meet one everywhere with painful frequency and repetition. Excess in drinking is one of the vices not least prevalent, and persons drunk are to be often met with. Now, such being the case, all professedly religious persons of every name should feel called on to enter a special protest against the evil. It was a principle in the moral code of Paul, that it is good " neither to eat flesh, nor to drink wine, nor anything whereby a brother stumbleth, or is offended, or is made weak." And if, in view of the danger of ensnaring the consciences of brethren by the ex ample of indulgence in wine, it were right, in apostolic times, to abstain from it, though, in these days, — wine being, no longer, consecrated to idols, — there may be no danger of consciences being ensnared in the particular way in refer ence to which the Apostle speaks ; yet, since there is immi nent danger of their being defiled in a way equally ruinous, and since there is not only danger of this but the thing very AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 361 often happens, all virtuous persons ought to feel themselves under obligation to set an example of abstinence, and ought to seek to influence, in favor of this practice, others. And, if there were a proper sympathy in that country with the ethical principles and sentiments of Paul, such would be the fact. I know that, there, there are total-abstinence agencies at work; but almost the entire Catholic population, the vast and overwhelming majority of persons belonging to the Establishment, and a large number of the Dissenters, stand criminally aloof from them. These will sometimes excuse themselves by saying that Paul was no total-abstinence man. But I am, by no means, certain, after what I have just quoted from his writings, that such was the fact. And, if he were not, this would not alter the case. In his day, there was no distillation, with which process we become first acquainted in the writings of Arnold de Villa in the thirteenth century. And the discovery of this art has turned over a new page in the history of this department of ethics, devolving upon the moderns the duty of using additional securities against the triumph over them of inebriating potations. Again, I observe that there exists in South Britain, I fear, a lack of sexual purity among the male portion of the upper classes. The English gentleman has the highest respect for, and treats with the utmost deference, a woman belonging to the same class of society with himself. But for a poor girl of humble life, he is sometimes lacking in a proper regard. The fact is, the aristocratic constitution of society is unfavorable to purity in the male part of the upper class and in the fe male part of the menial class. In this respect, the equality of democracy has greatly the advantage of i£. While the democrat is the more prone to fall into some errors of other sorts, he must be admitted to feel, when compared with the aristocrat, a high regard for the purity of the humblest fe male. Yet, while I thus speak, I would not be understood as implying that continence and chastity are not shining virtues in the English character. Again, I remark that a regard for the day of rest is, by no means, so prevalent in South Britain as due reverence for di vine authority, and love for the best interests of mankind, require that it should be. Sabbath-breaking is one of the two most fruitful sources of crime, intemperance being the other. Almost one-half of all who journey far in the paths 30 362 TRAVELS IN FRANCE of sin and shame begin by desecrating the day sacred to devotion, to religious instruction, to rest, and to charity. Yet in England this day, except by the friends of evangeli cal piety, is held in but low respect, compared with Scotland or New England. At least, it is very imperfectly sanctified. Public gardens, public thoroughfares, and railroads, and, in a vast number of cases, empty churches, bear an abundant testimony to this. And again, in the manufacturing and trading parts of the part of Britain of which I am speaking, there is, with not a few, a great lack of honesty. An extreme avarice, — an avarice not at all inferior to what drives the American ahead in his industry and enterprises, — has, in the last generation, in those districts, gradually eaten away that exact and scru pulous regard to the possessorial rights of others, which once was characteristic of the South Briton. Indeed, a considerable portion of the inhabitants of some counties scarcely aim at a greater amount of integrity than is necessary to success in their business. They would lose credit, for fairness, with their customers, if they did not exhibit a certain share of integrity ; and that, and that alone, makes them walk straightly. But, on the other hand, a large portion of the agricultural community are still generally to be honored, and that, I fear, in preference to not a small portion of the same class in the United States, for their strict fidelity to en gagements of every sort, for their general sense of justice, and for their honesty. In respect to this point, I would fur ther remark that, if the opinions of the people themselves are to be confided in, the natives of the South of England are much honester than those of the North. Indeed, the humble class in the South do not hesitate to disavow York shire as being any part of England, because it produces so many persons peculiarly shrewd and overreaching in their dealings. Having said so much in relation to the morals of the peo ple of England and Wales, I will now say a brief something as to the state of religion among them1. Among them, as I hinted above, three great ecclesiastical divisions prevail ; to wit, the Church of England, the Dissenting communities, and the Roman Catholics. With each of these, religion presents a different phase. The Church of England, or Protestant Episcopal Church, AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 363 embraces the majority of the people of England and of the Principality. It has under its care nearly eleven thousand parish churches, each of a large share of which is served by two clergymen ; the sum total of these, being about eighteen thousand. These men, with few exceptions, are well versed in ancient and modern learning, and many are men of the most profound general erudition. Indeed, the English Church is not merely an ecclesiastical community aiming at the religious instruction and salvation ofthe English nation, but it is also, if I may so speak, a corporate or quasi-corpo rate body for the encouragement of learning and science. In it, as at the English bar, and in the medical profession, there is no room for the man who, on principle, is illiterate, and just as little room for him who is illiterate from laziness. The doctrine practically acted on in England is, that litera ture and science are exceptions to the free-trade principle of non-protection, and that they need special fostering ; and the church is one of the main agencies employed' in encour aging talent and laborious study. No doubt, this view, with proper restrictions, is a correct one. If the theory prevail ing in the United States, of extending no special immunities and rewards to scholarship, — while quackery in law, medi cine, divinity, politics, and soldiering, is practically encour aged to no small extent, — had been acted on in South Bri tain from the first, the people of the British nations (and the people of the United States along with them) would now be vast communities of money-making boors, with very little of learning or science in their language. Now, however, we inherit, with our language, a literature as rich as exists, or has existed, in any other tongue, and we can thus afford, if we please, ungratefully to underrate the utility of the means by which it was created. But still, after this admission of the usefulness of the English Church as a literary instrumen tality, made above, I must say she has largely swerved from the main objects and aims for which a church exists, — the moral and religious instruction of the people and the salva tion of their souls. There are many thousands of the clergy men of the Established Church of England, who do not even profess ever to have experienced conversion, and who, of course, never preach it after the strict manner in which it is taught in the Bible, and in that character in which it is ex perienced by all who enter Heaven. This state of things is, 364 TRAVELS IN FRANCE at least in part, brought about by the circumstance that parents entertain the idea that a boy can be educated into an ambassador of Christ, as an apprentice can be taught shoe-making or chair-making. Under the influence of this erroneous and mischievous notion, they have their sons tho roughly drilled at school and at one of the universities, in the learned tongues, the mathematics, and philosophy, and then taught just a little theology; then they undergo an easy divinity examination by a bishop, and are approved ; and next they are "japanned," and enter Christ's ministry as a mere business. Such men maybe gentlemen and scho lars, — scholars that can compose Latin and Greek poetry with correctness, and many of whom may be thorough even in Geometry of Three Dimensions, — and as such we ought to respect them, but they are nearly useless as moral instruc tors and preachers of reconciliation with God. I do not mean to say that such is the prevailing character of the clergy of the Church of England. Yet there are many thousands, such ; men who having failed of the grace of God, themselves, are the blindest leaders of the blind. Among the parishioners of such divines, almost all is moral desola tion ; no Bible piety in life except among a few hidden ones mourning in secret over the dismal state of Zion, and no true Bible hope, with multitudes, in the trying hour of death. It is well known that the English Church, like the Romish, is a congeries of heterogeneous theological parties. There are, at the present time, as many as six subdivisions ; to wit, (the classification, I ought to say, is, a good deal, my own,) the Evangelicals or Low Churchmen, the old-fashioned High Churchmen, called also, on account of their formalism, the High-and-Dry, the young England High Churchmen, the Eclectics, the Puseyites, and the Fox-Hunters. The Evan gelicals are, most of them, a most pious and laborious body of men ; warm-hearted, prayerful, and often eloquent ; con scientious, and addressing themselves to men's judgments and consciences ; whose praise has ever been in all the churches. The "High-and-Dry" are great believers in a mystic influence conveyed by means of ordination, in the apostolic succession, and in the fathers of the first three cen turies, and are very frequently characterized by a grave dig nity of deportment, and by a dryness and coldness in their pulpit prelections. The young England High Churchmen AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 365 are Anglo -Catholics in embryo, and mainly address them selves to the taste; thus establishing an influence with men of an elegant effeminacy of mind. In the same way, they exercise great influence with the female sex. This party has a great fondness for that beautiful thing, medieval architec ture, and is zealous for improving and beautifying churches. Neither, however, do we look on this as a fault, since, ever more and in all places, beauty is its own sufficient reason for its being. Yet, in their churches, they unfortunately make too much of the conventionalities of heraldry, and too little of the Epistles of Paul ; they give too much consequence to crosses and triangles, and too little to repentance and the work of the Spirit; they paint fishes and salamanders when they should be commending justification and faith; and allow poppy-heads and gurgoyles to be occupying men's thoughts, when they should be seeking, in earnest pursuit, after high attainments in sanctification and in new obedience. Moreover, with the symbols of heraldry, which they combine with their favorite style of architecture, they generally insist on associating that grand peculiarity of Romish worship, the altar ; while Protestantism refuses to allow the presence of this thing, as being incongruous with her doctrines, putting the communion table in its stead. The party which takes the name of Eclectics, is characterized by its assumption of the noble principle, "Nullius jurare in verba magistri." This principle, however, at once so admirably practical, and so comprehensive in its applicability, it too often makes, unfortunately, an apology for a broad latitudinarianism, vague, and unmeaning, in its teachings of sacred things. Again, the Anglo-Catholics, Tractarians, or Puseyites, are one of the parties of the English Episcopal Church. The capital aim of this party is to bring the Establishment into a nearer conformity to the Romish Church, but without ac knowledging _ the' Pope. In doing this, hundreds of the clergy have overshot the mark, not stopping short of Rome. This movement was in the zenith of its popularity in the years 1842, '43, and '44, but began to retrograde with a perpetual retrograding in 1846 and '47, at which time conversions to Roman Catholicism became quite numer ous ; partly the cause, and partly the symptom, of a power ful reaction. It is remarkable that those families, that have shown a tendency toward Rome, were of the most intolerant 30* 366 TRAVELS IN FRANCE toward that communion in relation to the granting of Catholic emancipation, and that, on the other hand, the families favorable to a liberal policy have remained tho.- roughly Protestant. And again, I have made, in the Engr lish Establishment, a party which I have named, or nick named, the Fox-Hunters. Under this appellation, I include all those parsons who keep race-horses and run them under other people's names, all who dance and figure in balls, who figure as coarse active politicians, or who, in any manner, live gayly or dissolutely, — all such I include in the fox-hunt ing party as much as I do those who see proper to join the cliques of country squires in their break-neck leaps over gates and hedges, and in their jolly tally-hoes. Such a party ex ists, but is confined to half a dozen men, and is dying out. I will only add to what I have said of the Established Church of England, that, except I err, by the laws of Eng land, his parish is each incumbent's freehold ; a bad system where the pastorate is in the hands of an unfaithful man, but, at all events, in complete contrast with the American system, under which well-educated, useful, and venerable men, have practically no more fixity of tenure, as to their fields of usefulness and of livelihood, than has a Connaught grazier who, as tenant at will, occupies a mountain grass- farm, — a state of things, of which, if it were not that under God's mysterious providence there are avenues that lead no where, it may be prophesied that, in the course of centuries, it will not improve clerical character as to honor, manliness, transparent candor, and several other virtues. As to the Dissenters, I can only take space to say a few words. These taken, all of them, together, are nearly as nu merous as the great ecclesiastical body directly countenanced by the State. They embrace Congregationalists, Methodists, Baptists, Presbyterians, and Unitarians. Among the Con gregationalists is a vast amount of the very best preaching, though sometimes not sufficiently characterized by doctrinal distinctness. These people are often too straight-jacketed in relation to changes in old obsolete and objectionable forms. Thus they frequently, if not generally, sit, as if resting themselves, in prayer in church ; and I once joined in family worship with an excellent Congregationalist family in which standing was the posture of prayer in the family devotions, — this attitude in family prayer, however, being AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 367 now on the point of becoming entirely obsolete. The Eng lish Presbyterians are orthodox ; but in numerous instances, from report, I must say, (I speak mainly on the authority of a Scotch Presbyterian resident in Canada, but well ac quainted in various parts of England,) coldly orthodox. The Baptists are excellent people, though some of them altogether hyper-Calvinistic, or considerably resembling the more mitigated of the Hardshells of the United States. The Methodists, (whose membership somewhat exceeds two hundred and sixty thousand,) are a people warm-hearted and active : I believe, as to piety, rather in advance of their namesakes in America. While, as to the Unitarians ; (the main opportunity of getting information about them, that I had, was from a Unitarian clergyman, an old acquaintance, who, though a most beautiful elocutionist, and with talent enough to be a contributor to the literature of one of the ablest of the magazines, because he was not accomplishing any good as a preacher, had accepted under government the appointment of librarian in a .public library;) I remark as to these religionists, that they are not growing in num bers, and are very much Socinian in their theology. Nor can I stop to say much about the English Roman Catholics any more than I have been able to do so in 'rela tion to the Dissenters. A large number of them belong to the wealthy class. They have places of worship dotted all over the face of the country; there being as many as twenty- five in London and its suburbs alone. Lancashire, however, is the stronghold of English Catholicism. In consequence of emigration from Ireland, it is greatly on the increase. It has now about 1150 priests and about 880 chapels, the priests having increased at the rate of nearly two and a half to one, and the chapels of two to one, in the last twenty-six years. From its contact with Protestantism, it is, in com parison with Catholic lands, chastened in its pretensions and guarded in its morals. Having said so much in relation to the morals and reli gious condition of South Britian, I come now to say some thing of the same things in Scotland. The state of morals in Scotland is undoubtedly more favorable than it is in England. Miserable religious igno rance, Sabbath-breaking, uncleanness, drunkenness, and all the great vices are rarer. Yet drunkenness is still a prevail- 368 TRAVELS IN FRANCE ing vice. The fact is, the Scottish clergy never took hold of the temperance reformation with full zeal. Numbers urged the subject on the attention of their people, but mul titudes of them cast it into the shade. Indeed, I have seen, after a lecture on a week night, an accredited agent of the Free Church of Scotland, a popular and eloquent clergy man, engage in drinking an intoxicating beverage in the presence of three other clergymen, two of whom readily joined him in drinking also. As to the state of religion in that country, it is undoubt edly greatly on the advance. For a long series of years, the chief body of the churches has been undergoing a bene ficial change. About 1714, when Simpson was appointed Professor of Theology in Glasgow, piety and Bible doctrine began to experience a decline in the universities. This was followed, in the various parishes, by a change, in the style of preaching, very apparent. Orthodox formalism and a cold Armenianism began to take the place of the old piety and doctrine that the Scottish pulpit had hitherto pro claimed. This was followed by a carelessness as to attend ance on the means of grace. This state of things continued, though with exceptions in numerous parishes, till after the first French Revolution. Indeed, between 1750 and 1783, hundreds of- families passed from the churches in Scotland over to Popery. But a revival, about the time indicated above, com menced, which is still progressing. The doctrines of grace be gan to be warmly preached, and, as a consequence of this, men to attend more numerously on public worship ; this latter cir cumstance furnishing an illustration of the native adaptation, to popularity, of evangelical religion, above all other forms of religion, — an adaptation, no doubt, growing out of the fact that it, and the human conscience, equally, have God for their author, who has made them to correspond to each other. This revival was accelerated by the passage of the Parlia mentary Reform Bill in 1832 ; the patrons of parishes, who are mostly active politicians, being compelled thenceforth to consult, in a greater degree, the popular desires. Also, the revival has been greatly helped on by the various bodies of Dissenting Presbyterians. Besides, such men as Thompson, Wardlow, and Chalmers, contributed much to push it for ward. And a still greater momentum was given to it in 1843, when the Free Church, by the disruption of four hun- AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 369 dred and seventy clergymen from the Establishment, came into being. The preaching in the State-allied branch of the Scottish Presbyterians, as well as in the pulpits of the Free Church, of the United Presbyterian, and of other evangeli cal denominations, is now very often excellent. I add that the Established .Church has, on the mainland and the islands together, one thousand and twenty-three parishes served by about one thousand and fifty clergymen, and that the numerical strength of the various ecclesiastical communities dissenting, or seceding, from it, is about in the proportion of two on their side to gne on its. As to the Scottish Protestant Episcopal Church, I re mark that it is but a small body, embracing a population of only about twenty-seven or twenty-eight thousand ; though numbering, among this restricted circle of adherents, a very disproportionately large share of the aristocracy of the country. It is thoroughly Tractarian ; so completely so, that not more than one or two of its clergy are evangelical. As to the Catholic Church in Scotland, I observe that it musters a numerical strength of nearly fifty thousand ; more than one-half of this number being made up of Roman Catholic emigrants from Ireland. In my opinion, the progress of true religion in North Britain is mainly retarded by the following causes. First, there is a commendable fondness in many parents to bring up one of their children for the Christian ministry, and this desire very . often, to the great injury of souls, gratifies itself, irrespective of the young person's piety. Secondly, there is no warm preaching in the chapels of the Scottish universities, such as students in American colleges are accus tomed to listen to; no regular and systematic courses of practical theology addressed, from the pulpit, to the intel lects, judgments, and consciences, of the youthful auditors. Neither are there maintained by the professors college prayer meetings and Bible classes. Thirdly, the custom of making the house of God a place for academic prelections, instead of sermons, and orations, delivered without manu script, is becoming very injuriously common. And again, a provincial narrow-minded old-fashionedness, — an attachment to the old ways and things of an obsolete age, almost as contracted, as were the narrow views of the old Judaizing Christians, — interferes, on the part of the multitude, in many 370' TRAVELS IN FRANCE points of view, with the unembarrassed onward progress of a piety purely rational and biblical. Next, the states of morals and of religion in Ireland call, before the closing of my letter, for some remarks from me. With regard to the state of morals among the people of Ireland, I observe that, in what I will say in reference to this matter, I will confine myself to a few points. I will ob serve as to the honesty, the temperance in the use of inebri ating beverages, the industry, and the love of order and peace, that exist among them. As to a general honesty, my impression is that there is no people much superior to the Irish. Yet, when it comes to the details of this duty, they often greatly err. But even when erring, there is an honesty about them, in their mistakes, that does not often characterize the dishonesty of the people of other nations. They do wrong not from a spirit of avarice, or of falsehood, or of fraud, but from some patriotic or superstitious prejudice Let a man have Irish laborers to do work, and let him subsequently employ others to do similar work, and, by comparing, he will soon discover who they are, of the two sets of employees, that comply most completely with the spirit and letter of their contract. Again, as to the degree of temperance in the use of intoxicating drinks to be met with in Ireland, there is a great deal of misconception. No doubt, in this respect, the Irish are behind the people of the sister island, and still farther behind a people so abstinent as are the French. Yet they are far from being so drunken as the Russians, or as the inhabitants of some districts in Germany, or as those of some other countries. In a public gathering in that country, there are certainly fewer intoxicated per sons to be seen than are ordinarily to be seen in a gathering, of the same number of people, in the United States. Also, in the United States, I have known towns in which the peo ple seemed to die of mania a potu, as often as of any other dis ease, while in Ireland it is almost unknown ; and though this difference in favor of the Irish may in part arise from American liquor-dealers understanding better than their Irish fellow- traffickers how to enrich themselves by adulterating their liquors with deleterious drugs, yet I am of opinion that this is not the sole cause of the difference mentioned, but that deeper and more frequent potations have largely to do with it. Yet, above almost any other nation, the Irish need a vast re- AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 371 form~ Not many Protestant ministers, (whether Episcopal or Presbyterian,) and very few of the Roman Catholic priest hood, either practice or urge total abstinence. Thus the poor emigrant goes forth from his native snores, not principled in whatever of temperance he may possess. And cut loose from all old social ties and restraints, and cast into the midst of temptation, no worder if, not being principled as to drinking, he should; in very numerous instances, gradu ally become an inebriate, and eventually sink into the drunk ard's grave and hell. Such, through the lack of fidelity in their instructors and guides, has been the history of many tens of thousands. Again, as to the degree of industry prevailing in Ireland. In creating the products of industry the Irish are much behind most of the nations of Western Europe. Yet it is not in industriousness, but in skill, that they are deficient. The turnpikes, the canals, the railroads, the dockyards, of the British Islands and of the United States, the magnificent fruits of their laboriousness, witness to their unceasing and ardent application to toil properly rewarded. At home, however, they do not generally toil as they do abroad, the reason of this being that wages, "the great reconcilers of liberty with labor," have in the past been so small as to furnish no adequate motive. Moreover, as to the Irish love of order and peace. It is here that the Irish character is most wanting. A large minority of the popu lation, in all ages, has been absurdly pugnacious, and fool ishly and criminally prone to disorderliness. A spirit of mildness and of conciliation, and a spirit that will be abhor rent of violence, of tumult, and of turbulence, greatly need to be yet infused into a portion of the Irish mind. With respect to the state of religion in Ireland, I now proceed to make some remarks. The three leading denomi nations in that land are, the Protestant Episcopal, the Pres byterian, and, above all, the Roman Catholic. In addition to these, there are, also, Methodists and Congregationalists, and, also, Reformed Presbyterians, Unitarians, Associate Presbyterians, Baptists, Moravians, and Friends. The Protestant Episcopal Church of Ireland is the com munion established by law. It has under its spiritual care somewhat more than twenty-one hundred parishes minis tered to by about thirteen hundred beneficed clergymen and about, four hundred curates. The population adhering to it 372 TRAVELS IN FRANCE ranges at about seven hundred and sixty thousand. This is the denomination of the wealthy and the fashionable. There are among its clergy nearly the same parties that exist in the English Establishment. Tractarianism, however, is less influential, comparatively, than in England. Yet it is, by no means, absent. I spent some time in an Irish parish, the history of a late incumbent of which is nearly what I am about to give. He was a man of eminent scholarship, having been a fellow of the University of Dublin. But clas sics and mathematics did not monopolize all his attention. For the sake of variety, — since variety is the spice of life, — he occasionally mingled with them practice in pugilism and horsemanship ; and, being an active, athletic, and bold man, he was one of the best boxers and horsemen in the island. He was also an Orangeman and ardent politician, and, being an accomplished orator, occasionally made, in these characters, speeches. In one of these, which I read, I recollect him to have described, with a most admirable jocoseness, the Irish Church under the figure of a noble milch cow, to be milked by the younger sons of the aristocracy. Subsequently, he settled, as rector, in the parish to which I above alluded. Yet, with all his scholarship and eloquence, he was an uninteresting preacher. After awhile, alarmed about his eternal safety, and reluctant to embrace the Pau line scheme of salvation, he became a Puseyite, to the horror of his relatives and parishioners. Nor were these wanting in ways to manifest their dislike of this winding up of his course. On a certain holiday, he had adorned the altar of the parish church to his taste, and lighted up around it huge candles, himself being devoutly seated, with open prayer- book, in the midst. One of the people of his charge, after another, would come to the church door, and, having looked in, would return home, so that finally the rector was nearly left to be the entire congregation. But here his death in terposed to prevent further innovation on his part, and fur ther expressions of resentment on the part of the people. Now for a brief character of a certain other Irish Episcopal clergyman, but of a somewhat different school. He was a scholar, a man of talents, a polished gentleman, (though said to be, in this character, rather licentious,) a highly useful justice of the peace, and the captain of an admirably trained military company. As might be expected, though gifted AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 373 with rare talents, he was a very poor preacher. Again, I was told by a respectable individual who had been, in the employment of the government, in Connaught, the father of a popular minister of the Free Church of Scotland, — I was told by this person of a clergyman of the Established Church in the part of Ireland named, (and the case is given as a sample, though an extreme one,) who diverged even farther, than the man just spoken of, from the line of Chris tian deportment. This, divine was settled in a parish in which there was only a handful of Protestants, and in which his uncle, a man with an income of ten thousand pounds sterling per year, was the only person belonging to the class of'the gentry, who was not a Catholic. Said man would devoutly go through religious services on the morning of the Sabbath, and would spend the afternoon, in company with the Catholic gentry of the neighborhood, in partridge shoot ing. He was the heir of his uncle's property and looked on the church as being only a something wherewithal to shift along till the old man's death. The unfaithful pastor, how ever, was doomed to be disappointed. It happened that the old gentleman, who was blind, had, for housekeeper, the widow of a sergeant in the army ; and, owing to her urgency, he went to London to a celebrated oculist, by whom his vision was restored. In a paroxysm of gratitude, he mar ried her, and took her back, to his mansion in Connaught, no longer his housekeeper but wife. But the rector's wife, a haughty woman, refused to admit her into the family pew. In these circumstances, the recent convalescent made a will, cutting off the family of his nephew, and making the de ceased sergeant's son, his wife's only child, his chief heir. And the will has been confirmed by the courts. Thus has the old family property of the Rutledges passed to a stran ger. Such cases as have been given, nevertheless, are very extreme cases. There is a very large number of most ex cellent, able and exemplary ministers, in the Established Church of Ireland. Indeed, about the most eloquent, pa thetic, fluent, beautiful, and graceful and dignified pulpit- orator that I ever listened to, I heard, accidentally, on the after part of a Sabbath, preach in an Irish church of the Establishment. The sweetness and power of the gospel were in every utterance, in every figure, in every glance of the piercing eye, and in every movement ofthe arm. With him, 31 374 TRAVELS IN FRANCE discipline of mind, refined taste, a mastery of the English tongue, and a glowing heart, were in the stead of a manu script. If the university and colleges had a few such chap lains to preach to their students a practical course of scrip- turally systematic theology on the Sundays, and to establish Bible classes among them, soon would moral ignorance and vice be "cribbed and hemmed" within narrow limits iu Ireland. With respect to that denomination of Christians which acknowledges the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church in Ireland, as its supreme ecclesiastical judicatory, I observe that it embraces five hundred and thirty-five minis ters and five hundred and five congregations, and that ±he population looking to it for religious instruction amounts to about six hundred and sixty thousand. Of this population the chief seat is the northeastern part of the island, though a part of it has its home in the south and west ; there being no county that is without a Presbyterian congregation. This religious community dates its ecclesiastical existence, at least as an organized body, from June 10, 1642, when the first Presbytery met in Ireland. This Presbytery, (which met at Carrickfergus,) was formed by the chaplains of the Scottish army which had lately been sent to Ireland to assist the Irish Protestants to make headway against the Catho lics. It was also almost immediately joined by several Irish Protestant clergymen. Its first great success was among that class in whose veins Scotch blood predominated. These, even before this event, as well as many who were not of Scottish descent, had a strong inclination to nonconfor mity. And this inclination, in connection with the fact that the late massacre had either destroyed the Protestant clergy or driven them off, and with the peculiar ecclesiastical temper of the times, led them readily to fall in with the preachers who had lately come across the North Channel. Religion was, among the Presbyterians of Ireland, in an ex ceedingly flourishing state, from its first introduction, — and this in spite of the terrific civil wars, and of severe persecu tion, — down till some time about 1723, when, we are told, " a terrible degree of decay in serious godliness" began ; confes sions of faith, coming to be looked on by many as a galling yoke, and many of the young ministers beginning to lean toward orthodox formalism, a cold Armenianism, and AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 375 even Arianism. It was chiefly in consequence of this decline in religion that Irish Unitarianism grew up. It was also in consequence of it that the Presbyterian Synod of Ireland, (or Seceders,) a body, in its early years, remarkable for the piety of its pastors and churches, came into being. Of late years, a revival of piety and of doctrinal purity, has been going on among the Presbyterians on all hands. And, in consequence of this, there has been complete separation from Unitarian ism, while the Seceding Communion has been happily re united to the parent stock. The first symptoms of this re vival, in the original and the larger Presbyterian body, began to manifest themselves as early as 1803, before which time the influence of the piouf few in the church had been very slightly felt. In 1829 and 1830, the Unitarians, and the be lievers in the divinity of the Saviour and of the Holy Spirit, finally separated. And, in 1840, the two leading bodies of Presbyterians coalesced, their supreme judicatory taking to itself the title of " The General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church in Ireland." No doubt, practical religion, in many of the congregations under the supervision of this judicatory, is now in a very prosperous state. But, on the other hand, there are very many of its churches in which this is very far from being the fact. The ministers are carnal and lazy, and the people are as dead as stagnant water. A powerful spi ritual revival, a pentecostal season in which sinners would be converted and saints made to grow in grace, would greatly change and improve the religious character of this denomi nation, developing its activities in behalf of the spread of Bible piety all over the island. As matters are just now, there are many, very many, of its churches in which there is neither prayer meeting nor Bible class. There are several things that are needed by the Irish Pres byterians in order to their onward progress. They greatly need in Queen's College, (Belfast,) and in their Theological Seminary, a chaplain, or chaplains, men of fervent Bible piety, of simple yet pure taste, of a thorough knowledge of the great doctrines of theology, (yet overlooking its tri vialities,) and of effective elocution ; men who, by Bible classes and all other proper ways, will promote, among col lege and theological students, the interests of godliness. Again, the Presbyterians of that country need a more libe ral spirit with respect to psalmody. They are now nearly 376 TRAVELS IN PRANCE restricted, contrary to the judgment of many of them, to a single poetic version of the Psalms, without the use of hymns or paraphrases. Now Paul mentions the having of psalms adapted to use in Christian worship among the miraculous gifts conferred on the Apostolic Church ; by which he could not mean the mere selecting of one of the poetical composi tions of the Old Testament, since this would be no miracu lous gift. Now this certainly shows, or seems to intimate to us, (if the usus loquendi of the phraseology of the Bible, " psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs," did not, apart from this, sufficiently establish it,) that God intended us not to restrict ourselves to the Psalms of the Old Dispensation, but that, without being guilty of the impiety of discarding them, we should use, in addition to them, in the praises of God, other poetic compositions containing ideas from the Word of Inspiration. At least a strong presumption to this effect is thus made out. No wonder then if spiritual lame ness, and unpopularity with many to be won to Christ, should be the result, where a Church refuses to avail itself of all the helps to divine praise, which Providence has put within its reach. Again, the Irish Presbyterians are want ing with respect to the employing of evangelists among both the Irish speaking and English speaking population of their country, destitute of the gospel. And again, they are not those zealous and unflinching total-abstinence men whom this drunken age of the world demands to put an effectual check on its proclivity. I observe, with respect to Catholicism in Ireland, that it embraces a population of about five millions ; which is un der the guidance, in spiritual matters, of about two thousand ecclesiastics, or perhaps their numbers may now considera bly exceed this. These ecclesiastics are almost invariably men of good education. I doubt whether any other Roman Catholic population in Europe, of equal numbers, is served by men generally so well instructed in secular learning, as also in the dogmas of Catholicism, as are those who minister to the Catholics of Ireland. That the Irish priesthood should be trained in liberal studies should be matter of general gratifica tion ; but that they should be drilled in the peculiar dogmas of Popery can afford gratification to those alone who believe in them. These men, as clergymen, are mostly moral in their lives, and attentive to their professional duties. Apart from AND THE BRITISH ISLANDS. 377 the fact that they err in regard to the truths of God's Word, their great errors are, that they are defective and cold in the discharge of their pulpit duties, and that not a few of them allow everything devotional to be engulfed in the acerbities of politics. The Catholic priesthood do not preach regularly, and, when they do, they either preach polemics when they should be inculcating moral duties, or they preach as if they were instructing children. I dined at the same table, in a private family, at Belfast, with a number of young men from Germany, who were residing in that borough as merchants. Several of them were Roman Catholics, and they told me that the Irish priests, in their discourses, were great scolds ; endeavoring, as it seemed to them, to scold their parishion ers, like as if they were so many half-grown children, to do what they wanted them to do. And as to the share of the Irish priesthood in the bitterness of party politics, it is well known that they have long been most violent partisans. As educated men they should have an independent suffrage ; but here, in ordinary times, the interference of the clergy man in politics should stop. The fact is, that cold and bitter polemics, and red-hot and most bitter party politics, have, to gether, banished from the hearts of the priesthood in that country no small share of the spirit that characterizes the writings of Fenelon and Massillon. With respect to the Methodist Church in Ireland, I ob serve that it is quite a small denomination. It first began to have some foothold in Ireland as early as 1748, in which year that country was visited by Wesley himself. In 1799, — at which time the Methodists first established, on a firm and broad foundation, their Irish Mission, — the denomination took a new start. It has had, among its itinerants, some most apostolic men ; among others, Gideon Ouseley. It suffers much from emigration, and also from the difficulty of obtaining, from the narrow bigotry and penuriousness of the landholders, convenient sites for churches and school-houses. Also, some of its ministers suffer much from poverty. While there I preached for a very worthy man advanced in years, with a wife having the manners and sentiments of a lady, and with a growing up family of children, and yet this man could not keep a horse, but had, in fulfilling appointments of fourteen and fifteen miles off, to go a considerable part of the way on foot. I am sure that if rich American Metho- 378 TRAVELS IN FRANCE, ETC. dists were to correspond with such men, and render them some assistance in a quiet way, Christ, in return, would say to them on the Day of Judgment, "What ye did to them I count as if done to myself." At the present time this deno mination has one hundred and fifty-nine ministers, (of whom twenty-seven are domestic missionaries,) and'eighteen thou sand seven hundred and forty-nine members ; the population depending on it for spiritual instruction amounting probably to forty or fifty thousand. Its prospects are fair, and I con sider it just the instrumentality for evangelizing, (along with portions of other classes,) the Irish laboring class. With respect to the Irish Unitarians, I observe that they have fifty-three ministers and forty-six congregations ; the population adhering to them amounting, probably, to about twenty or twenty-five thousand. They have in their theolo gical school three professors. The opinions of the majority of the Irish Unitarian clergy are said to be what are called High-Arian. There is no class of religionists in Europe, that comes so near the views of Evangelical Christians in America, on the subject of religious liberty and toleration, as this body. With respect to the two bodies of Reformed Presbyteri ans, (or Covenanters,) I observe that, (being taken together,) they have thirty-three ministerial charges ministered to by twenty-six pastors. The main thing that prevents this denomination from growing is an excessive straight-jacket- edness. With respect to the Associate Presbyterians, I observe that they have one presbytery, with six ministers and seven congregations. And with respect to the Congregationalists, Baptists, Moravians, and Friends, I observe that they are quite small denominations; the Congregationalists having fourteen churches, the Baptists having nine, and the Moravians hav ing five. I will conclude this long letter, which, when sitting down to write it, I expected to make short, by saying that, in two or three days, Providence aiding, I expect to be at home again. Yours, &c, M. F. APPENDIX. NOTE I. (LETTER I. AT PAGE 16.) I may remark that, large as the island of ice spoken of in the text was, still vastly larger icebergs are occasionally met with ; the French ship, the Astrolobe, having measured some ranging from 100 to 225 feet above water, and from two to five miles across. NOTE II. (letter iv. at page 30.) I mat here say a word as to the manner in which the ancient Egyptians moved immense blocks of stone. A painting in a tomb, (of about 1650 before Christ,) near the village of Dayr-e- Nakl, discovered by Irby and Mangles, casts much light on the subject. In this painting, a plankroad is represented, bearing a wooden sled on skate-shaped wooden runners; this sled being dragged by four rows of men, (forty-three in each row,) pulling at ropes or chains. On this vehicle the weight rests. And, also, a man is pictured as pouring grease on the planks, while another beats time with his hands that all may pull together. By this simple machinery, (in which, in preference to rollers, wood slides over wood well lubricated,) were the most ponderous masses suc cessfully transported, in Egypt, four thousand years ago, over the most embarrassing distances, — the motive power being furnished by the intelligent and careful division and distribution of simple human force. N OTE III. (letter viii. at page 64.) Peter Abelard was born in the little village of Palais in Brit tany, in the twelth century. He studied in Paris under William des Champeaux. Distinguished for the highest elegancies and perfections of person and mind, he soon became a wonderfully eminent lecturer in all medieval learning. In his twenty-seventh year, he became acquainted with the youthful, beautiful, and ac complished Eloise, the niece of Fulbert, a canon of Notre Dame. A mutual passion grew up, which led to irregularity. Finally, (379) 380 appendix. the two lovers were married ; the marriage, however, being disa vowed to the public. The apparent improper intercourse in these circumstances provoked her relatives to mutilate him inhu manly, so that he placed her in a convent. After this, himself also entered a monastery. But, leaving it, he retired to a solitary place, where he built an oratory, to which he gave the name of the Paraclete ; this oratory soon becoming a grand centre of attrac tion to students ahd even learned theologians and philosophers. Being condemned, by a council, as heterodox, he was driven thence, but had influence to have his oratory converted into a con vent, of which Eloise became the head. He died in 1142, aged sixty-three, and his remains were claimed by his wife, who placed them in a tomb in the Paraclete ; and, she dying in 1163, her body was placed beside his. The splendid talents, the love, the misfortunes, the theological persecutions, and the sensibility and piety of the letters of Abelard, together with the extraordinary character and abilities, the famed beauty, and the undying love and tenderness, (as manifested in her letters,) of Eloise, have lent an interest likely to last through all time to the history of this cloistered pair. They left a son, the offspring of their earliest love, named Astralabus. NOTE IV. (letter xvi. at page 127.) The Boyal Chapel in Whitehall Palace, as I may again men tion, is the ancient apartment whence Charles I. stepped forth on the scaffold. Besides, it was the place where his headless corpse was laid out. An incident of a curious character is said to have occurred in connection with the vigils over his dead body ; which it may not be improper here to refer to. That such a thing oc curred has been denied by a great historian. The story, how ever, is, by no means, without foundation. Indeed many occurrences are to be met with in biographies that are not half so well sustained. The writer, from whose pen it comes down to us is Spence. He writes as follows : "The night after King Charles I. was beheaded, Lord Southampton and a friend of his got leave to sit up, by the body, in the banqueting- house at Whitehall. As they were sitting very melancholy there, about two o'clock in the morning, they heard the tread of some one coming very slowly up stairs. By and by the door opened, and a man entered very much muffled up in his cloak, and his face quite hid in it. He approached the body, considered it very attentively for some time, and then shook his head and sighed out the words, ' Cruel necessity !' He then departed in the same slow and concealed manner as he had come in. Lord Southampton used to say that he could not distinguish anything of his face, but that, by his voice and gait, he took him to be Oliver Cromwell." appendix. 381 NOTE V. (letter xvii. at page 136. With regard to the Rosetta Stone, I may here make one or two remarks. Its original size was about three feet by two ; but it is mutilated, the upper and lower parts being broken and in jured. The hieroglyphical writing on it, (in ancient times, so much in vogue in Egypt,) was deciphered by the following curi ous process. After a great deal of study had been fruitlessly expended, it was guessed, from the number of times of its occur rence, that an oval ring, (technically called a cartouch,) which is on it, signifies Ptolemy. The same ring was observed to be on an obelisk brought from Philae; the Greek inscription on which makes mention of Ptolemy and Cleopatra. It was also noticed that another ring supposed to denote Cleopatra was marked on the obelisk. On the comparing of the characters in the cartouches on the Rosetta slab with those in one of the car touches on the obelisk, they were found to correspond. This made it probable in a high degree that the characters in the car touches thus answering to each other, as it had been guessed, did mean Ptolemy, — while those in the other cartouch would in this case be almost certain to denote Cleopatra. Then, on the further carrying out of the comparison, it was found that the first cha racter in Ptolemy answered to the fifth in Cleopatra, being a square block and standing for the letter P. Also the third cha racter in Ptolemy and the fourth in Cleopatra were found to be alike, being a knotted cord and standing for the letter 0. In a similar way, L, which is represented by a lion, was brought out. And again, it was remarked that the sixth and ninth characters in Cleopatra, a hawk, were alike ; and therefore standing for the letter A. Such was the first clew to the hieroglyphical alphabet. When speaking of this stone and its hieroglyphics, I may add to what I have said, that, after, by its means, one style of hiero glyphical writing had come to be spelled out, it was more clearly seen than it had been seen before, that there were two other styles. How this came to be the case, may be thus explained. The ori ginal style, (such as is to be found in very ancient monuments,) was made up of complete pictures, and was, every way, difficult and tedious. To this succeeded the hieratic, (the style of priestly writings,) which consisted of outlines derived from the pictirres just spoken of. And after this followed the demotic or popular ; (the style of ordinary transactions ;) it having been a sort of run ning hand derived from the others. Two of these styles are ex emplified on the stone in the British Museum. NOTE VI. (letter xx. at page 180.) Having said a word as to the shape of the apartments in which the Lords and Commons of Great Britain assemble, I will 382 appendix. add a word as to the various forms by which the halls, in which deliberative bodies meet, may be, or have been, characterized. One form is that which was proposed, during the first French Revolution, by the mathematician and revolutionary Politician, Monge. He, while acting as professor in the Paris Polytechnical School, published a lecture, " Sur la Forme le plus Convenable pour Une Salle d'Assemblee." According to this plan, deliberative halls should be constructed after the manner of an amphitheatre, but of an elliptical figure, since it is demonstrated by experience that speakers standing in front are best heard ; that thus beauty and utility may be at once made to meet. Also, according to this plan, the most proper form for the roof is the moiety of an ellipsoid ; the vault to be supported by an elliptical arch, that thus, "by confining the volume of air, the orator's voice may ac quire a greater force." Another form for such halls is that of the ancient theatre, which was a semicircle, but exceeding it by a fourth of its diameter ; the legislative apartments of France and the United States having been, at least to a considerable extent, constructed on this model. Another form for a hall of debate and deliberation was exemplified in the apartment of the Com mons in the former Irish Parliament House, (now the Bank of Ireland.) This apartment was remarkable for its classic chaste- ness ; being a perfect rotunda, with Ionic pilasters, and having an enclosed corridor running around the interior, — while magnificence was bestowed on the whole by a cupola of immense height. Nor was there wanting a noble gallery, (the gallery having been capa ble of holding seven hundred spectators,) nor seats for the ladies. The other form, by which the halls of deliberative bodies are characterized, is that of the Roman basilica ; the form adopted in the halls of the Lords and Commons of the British Islands. I would add that in the new Chamber of Representatives, and in the new Senate Chamber, which are about being constructed in the wings that are now in the act of being added to the Capitol in Washington, the model of the ancient basilica is what, follow ing in the footsteps of the British Parliament, is mainly to be copied ; the idea haying come to be now cherished that the form of a rectangle is best suited to halls for public speaking. • NOTE VII. (letter xxviii. at page 280.) A curious tradition and belief existed in Ireland, in the twelfth century, in relation to Lough Neagh ; which has been handed down to our time by Giraldus. According to this ancient tradi tion and opinion, the lake had originally been merely a vast spring, the country around which was filled with numerous Round Towers ; but that the Spring overflowing had inundated the entire region, the water rising far above the tops of the Towers, — these being visible, in fair weather, to the fishermen sailing over them. APPENDIX. 383 Says the author just named, "Piscatores aquae illius, turres eccle- siastieas quae, more patriae aratae, sunt et alt;e, necnon et rotundas, sub undis, manifeste, sereno tempore, conspiciunt, et, extraneis transeuntibus, reique caueam admirantibus, frequenter ostendunt." It is to this strange idea that the poet, Moore, makes allusionan the following verses : " On Lough Neagh's bank, as the fisherman strays, When the clear cold eve's declining, He sees the Round Towers of other days In the wave beneath him shining ! "Thus shall memory often, in dreams sublime, Catch a glimpse of the days that are over ; Thus," sighing, look, through the waves of time, For the long-faded glories they cover." THE END. YALE