■^ a:v-s^ Sir §anul C^ooptr, §i. risfe^ ■•'■*•*;% o tc-^e.-r^~ AX*- «.- / ' ^^;j-. ^. c^ AtyHe ( L£^ C eK^^ry\ ^ r ^CH ♦ ec I^^H - ENGLAND, SCOTLAND & IRELAND ULLbWATEK A>'D CONISTON LAKES. ENGLAND SCOTLAND & IRELAND A PICTURESQUE SURVEY OF THE UNITED KINGDOM AND ITS INSTITUTIONS P. VILLARS TRANSLATED BY HENRY FRITH niTH SJX HUNDRED lU.USTRATIONS LONDON GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS broadway, ludgate hill New York. : 9 Lafayeite Place 1S87 INTRODUCTION FROM DOVER TO LONDON. Strangers, Frenchmen in particular, experience an indefinable sensation of discomfort when they land in England. The foggy atmosphere which they have per- ceived in the offing, and into which the steamer soon plunges, becomes thicker as the shore is approached. The coast line is confused, its outlines lose their distinctness in the uniform semi-tone, notwithstanding their proximity. The sun's rays do not appear to possess the same intensity — a mist envelopes us as soon as we set foot on British soil. The fog gets into our throats and tightens our heart-strings. Instinctively we look back, but there is no time for reflection ; guttural voices, in sharp and staccato accents, are heard; the railway-servants are directing us to pass right or left to the train, according to the London terminus at which we desire to alight. Then a familiar language meets our ears ; the Interpreter is repeating in French tlic directions of the English employes. Silence succeeds, and is only broken by the shrill voices of the boys who are selling newspapers on the platform. The doors are shut sharply, and the whistle of the engine responds to the mute signal of the head-guard. The train starts gently, without jerking or noise. There is a striking trait in the English character which is immediately obvious to us on our arrival. We arc in a country where time is money, and where speech is valuable. Minutes and words are economized. The speed of the train increases, the beautiful Kentish meadows which we traverse at full speed, amid the dark ruddy rays of tlie setting sun, dissipate the feeling of sadness which had at first assailed us. The hop-plants, trained on their high poles, rush past on both sides of the line ; pasture lands, in which numerous herds of cattle are grazing, succeed ; the soil is admirably cultivated, the hedges are carefully clipped. We could almost fancy ourselves in a park. Yes ; here is a charming little house of red-brick deliciously enfolded by beautiful green trees — now two — now ten — now a hundred houses, each one prettier than the other, breathing an atmosphere of ease, good living, and even of wealth. We would like to rest here ; it seems that life in such places must be calm and peaceful, and we can understand, as we admire these beautiful and picturesque scenes, 2008185 PREFACE. these graceful undulations of the ground, the name of tlie "Garden of England/' bestowed upon this delightful corner of the earth. Night has fallen. The train continues its course with the same rapidity; suddenly, through the window, we perceive a ruddy glare, like the reflection of an immense conflagration, piercing the gloom and extending in the distance above a great dark cloud, out of which arise, like the masts of shi])s, the spires and steeples of 300 churches. A rumbling sound of wheels, passing over an iron bridge, causes us to look out of the window ; a sudden light flashes up ; the glare of gas reflected upwards to the train shows us — as in a dream —a busy street, carriages, horses, men and women, and shops, ten yards below. We lean forward to see better. No more ! The vision has disappeared to reappear an instant afterwards, rapid as the lightning, as the train passes above the streets, or amongst the chimneys of the houses, the roofs of which are level with the permanent way. A sensation of fresh air quickly succeeds to these phantasmagoria. The train is crossing the Thames, the dark waters of which reflect the double lines of innumerable gas lamps, which border the wharves on each side of the bridge, and which indicate without lighting the winding course of the river. On the right is London Bridge, and beyond it a forest of masts is composedly perceptible in the gloom. On the left is St. Paul's Cathedral, whose enormous bulk dominates the whole city, its immense dome and lofty towers rising high in the air. The view is efl'aced ; the darkness is suddenly dissipated ; the train has arrived in Cannon Street Station, which the electric light illuminates with a blinding glare, in which clouds of steam are floating. Retracing its course the train repasses the bridge, runs for a few minutes amongst the house roofs, crosses the river a third time, and Anally deposits us, bewildered, dazzled, and fatigued, at Charing Cross Station, an immense "tunnel" of glass and bricks, situated in the very centre of London CONTENTS. PART I. LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. PAOB. Chaptek the First. — The Metropolis. I. London. — Its origin, general aspect, situation, climate. — Its extent, popula- tion.- — -The City proper. — The West End ...... I II. The City of London : Its Streets — Fleet Street and the Newspapers. — The "Times," "Illustrated London News," the "Graphic."— The Circulating Libraries ............ b III. The Ancient City. — Remains of Roman London. — The London Stone. — The Tower. — Queen Victoria's Keys. — St. Jolin's Gate. — vShakespearc's House . 18 IV. Religious Edifices : St. Paul's Cathedral — The Anglican Church — Church of England — The Temple Church — St. Andrew's Undcrshaft — Stow — St. Giles' — St. Bartholomew' — The Prebendaries ....... 27 V. The Civic Buildings : The Guildhall — the Mansion House — ^the Police Courts, " White Gloves."— The Bank of England.— Bankers.— The Clearing House. — The Royal Exchange. — "Lloyd's." — The Stock Exchange. — Bears and BuUs. — The Monument. — ^The City Companies. — Commerce and the Merchants ............ 35 VI. The Thames and the Port of London. — The Custom House. — The Docks. — St. Katherine's and the London Docks. — Wappmg — The Thames Tunnel. — The Tower Subway ........... 49 VII. The Public Offices : The Postal and Telegraph Departments.— The Mint.— Tlie Trinity House ............ 60 VIII. The Provision Supplies. — Statistics. — The Markets : Smithfield — Billingsgate — Copenhagen Fields Market — Dcptford Market — Covent Garden Market — Open-air Markets. — The Baroness Burdett-Coutts and Columbia Market . 64 Chapter the Second. — The West End. I. The Different Quarters. — The Strand, and the Actors. — Lincoln's Inn Fields, and the Lawyers. — The West End. — Industrial London . . 69 II. The Palaces : Buckingham Palace, St. James's Palace, Marlborough House, Kensington Palace, Whitehall. — The Houses of Parliament. — ^ Westminster Hall. — The House of Lords. — La licyne le vcult. — Lord Chatham. — The House of Commons. — The Speaker. — Her Majesty's Opposition. — The Constitution. — The Ministry. — The Navy. — The Army. — Somerset House . 77 CONTENTS. III. The Law Courts. — Magistrates and Barristers. — -The Prisons. — The Criminal Classes 97 IV. Westminster Abbey, the Pantheon of England. — St. Saviour's Church. — St. Martin's-in-the-Fiokls. — St. George's. — St. James's, &c. . . . 102 V. The Museums and Scientific Societies : The British Museum. — The National Gallery. — South Kensington Museum. — Bethnal Green Museum. — The Museum of Natural History. — The Royal Academy. — The Royal Socioty. — The Royal Institution, &c. . . . . . . . . . 11.5 VI. Public Instruction. — The Board Schools. — The Public Schools. — The London University ............ 125 VII The Parks. — The Squares. — The Embankments. — The Bridges . • . 127 VIII. Domestic Architecture.— Private Mansions. — The "Home." — Family Life . 142 IX. The Theatres : Covent Garden — Drury Lane — Her Majesty's Theatre — The Lyceum. — The English Dramatists. — French Pieces. — The Music Halls. — Madame Tussaud's Waxworks . . . . . . . . 149 X. The Clubs : their origin. — Clubs Ancient and Modern. — Literary Clubs. — Disraeli, Buhver Lytton, Thackeray, Dickens . . . . . . 1.5G XI. Sport. — Race-courses. — The Derby. — Cricket and Football. — Lawn Tennis. — Bicycles and Tricycles. . . . . . . . . . . 166 XII. The Railways : Statistics — Accidents— Clapham Junction — The Termini — The "Metropolitan Railway. — Omniliuses. — Tramways. — Cabs. — Steamboats . 172 xiii. The Municipal Administration. — The Main Drainage. — The Water and Gas Supply. — The Police. — The Fire Brigade. — The Commissionaires . . 178 xiv. The Public Charities : The Poor-Rate — The Workhouses — Private Charity. — The Hospitals : The Foundling— Chelsea Hospital 183 .XV. Funerals and Cemeteries .......... 189 Chapter the Third. — The Out.skirt.s of London. I. The Banks of the Thames from Richmond to Great Marlow II. Greenwich and Woolwich ...... in. Windsor Castle.— Eton ....... rv. Hampton Court, Richmond, and Kew .... v. The Crystal Palace. — Dulwich College. — Alexandra Palace 19.S 200 204 21.'? 218 CONTENTS. PART II. THE PROVINCES. PAGE. Chapter thk First. — Provincial Administration. — The Aeistookacv. — Country Seats. I. Administrative Divisions. — Lords Lieutenant. — High Sheriffs and Coroners. — Local Government. — Parishes and Boroughs. — Parliamentary Elections. — Partition of the SoU. — Territorial Fortunes. — Farmers. — Importation of Cereals. — Influence of the Landlords ....... 3 II. The Aristocracy : Elder and Younger Sons. — Ten Minutes Too Late ! — The Country Gentleman. — How Large Fortunes are Managed. — Agents and Secretaries : A Gilded Existence ........ 8 III. Domestic Architecture and the Celebrated Country Seat.s. — Alnwick Castle, Hatfield House, Chatsworth, Blenheim, Woburn Abbey . . . . 16 Chapter the Second. — The Coal and Iron Districts. I. The Coal Districts. — Production. — Are the Mines Inexhaustible 't — Nortliumber- land. — ^The Eoman Wall. — The County of Durham. — Durham. — The Cathedi-al. — The Castle. — Kaby Castle. — Selby and Noah. — The Coal-Basin of Northumberland and Durham. — The Mines. — Female Workers in Mines. — The Pitmen. — The Coal-Measures of Yorkshire 32 II. Wales and the Welsh — The Coal Basin.— South Wales.— Eaglan Castle.— Monmouth and the Valley of the Wye.^Eoss. — Hereford : The Cathedral. — LuiUow : The Castle.— Shrewsbury : The Old Streets.— Chester : The Ramparts, the Rows, the Cathedral. — Eaton Hall. — Hawarden Castle. — North Wales. — St. Asaph. — Conway. — Anglesey. — Bangor. — Penrhy n. — The Menai Bridge. — Carnarvon Castle. — Llanberis and the Lakes. — Snowdon. — Beddgelert. — Aberglaslyu ....... 45 III. The Iron Districts. — Exportation of Iron. — The Cleveland District.- — Middles- brough. — -The Blast Furnaces of Eston. — Barrow-in-Furness. — Furness Abbey. — The Lake Districts. — Coniston, Windermere, Grasmere, Derwent- water, and UUswater .......... 67 Chapter the Third. — The Hive. I. The two great Industries (Cotton and Wool). — Lancashire.— Manchester, or " Cottonopolis," and Salford. — The Monuments. — The Cathedi'al. — The Town CONTENTS. Hall. — The AVarehouses. — The Manchester School of Politics. — Statistics of the Cotton Trade. — Oldham. — The Mills, Blackburn, and Preston, St. Helen's, and Widnes .......... 80 II. Yorkshire : The Ridings. — York : The Gates, the Cathedral, the Castle, Castle Howard. — The WooUen Trade. — Historical Eeoollections. — Statistics . 92 III. lieeds : Its general aspect ; its Monuments and Factories. — Ripon Cathedral. — Studley Royal and Fountains Abbey ....... 98 IV. Bradford : The Working Population. — The Monuments. — The Legend of the Wild Boar. — The Factories. — Saltaire and its Founder. — S. Lister and Manningham Mills .......... 105 V. Sheffield. — Its Aspect. — Its Monuments. — The Cutlery Trade. — The Workshops. — Forgers and Grinders. — American Competition and the Trades' Unions. — The Valley of the Dove.— The Potteries 114 VI. Birmingliam. — Its Monuments and its Industries. — Steel Pens. — Ai'ms. — Glass- works. — Jewellery. — Art Industries and French artists .... 126 VII. An Excursion in Warwickshire. — Coventry. — Kenilworth. — Warwick Castle. — Shakespeare's Country .......... 133 Chaptek the FouuTn. — Oxford and Cambridge. Oxford and its Monuments. — The Univor.sity. — The Students and their Habits.— Cambridge— The Banks of the Cam.— The Colleges. . . 148 -'r> ' Chaptbe the Fifth. — The Sea Coast and the Sea Ports. I. Maritime Commerce. — Liverpool : Civil and Religious Monuments. — The Mersey, the I'ort, the Doek.s. — Birkenhead. — New Brighton. — The Lsle of Man 173 II. Bristol : The L'oeks, Commerce, Industry. — Gloucester. — Chepstow Castle. — ■ Tintern Abbey. — Cardiff. — Swansea. — Tenby. — Pembroke. — Milford Haven 195 III. Newcastle. — Commerce and Animation of the Port. — The Yorkshire Coast. — Wateriiig-Places.— Whitby.— Scarborough.— Hull.— The Third Port of England.— The Docks 207 IV. The Commerce of the Southern Ports. — The L)ockyards. — Rochester, Canterbury, Dover, Hastings, Brighton, Chichester. — Portsmouth, and its Dockyard. — The Isle of Wight 225 V. Southampton. — Salisbury. — The Channel Islands. — Jersey. — Guernsey. — Bournemouth. — Weymouth. — Devonshire. — Exeter. — Tonjuay. — Dartmoor. — Exmoor. — The Duchy of Cornwall. — Penzance. — St. Michael's Mount. — The Land's End 256 CONTENTS, PART III. SECTION I. — SCOTLAND. PAGE. Chapter the First. — Edinburgh and its Environs. I. From London to Scotland. — Its Government. — Peers and Members. — Extent of Scotland. — Its Population. — The Highlands and Lowlands. — The Scotch People ..•....•■••• 3 II. Edinburgh. — General A.spect. — The Old and New Towns. — Climate. — Population.— The Castle.— The Esplanade.— The High Street.— Canongate Tolbooth. — The Abbey and Palace of Holyrood 7 III. The Monuments.— The Church of St. Giles.— The Cathedral of St. Mary.— The Court-House. — The Judicial Organisation. — The Bar. — The Post Office.— The Bank of Scotland 20 IV. The Tilodern Town.— The Streets.— The Squares.— The Gardens.— The Calton Hill and its Monuments.— The Theatres.— The Museums.— The Learned Societies. — Scotch Education. — The Newspapers. — The Hospitals . 2(5 V. Leith and the Environs of Edinburgh.— The Port of Leith.— The Firth of Forth. — Eoslin Chapel.— The Forth Bridge. — Dunfermline.— Loch Leven.— St. Andrew's 38 Chapter the Second. — Southern Scotland. I. The Land of Burns and the Land of Scott: Ayr.— The Burns Monument.— Melrose Abbey.— Abbotsford.— The Abbeys of Dry burgh, Kelso, and Jedburgh -^^ II. Glasgow.— Its Situation.— Population and General Aspect.— The Monuments.— The University.- The Schools.— The Parks.— Industry.— The Port.— Statistics. — The Quays ....•••■■■ 5^ III. The Clyde.— The Falls of the Clyde.— Corra Linn and Bonnington Linn.— From Glasgow to Greenock. — Renfrew. — Dumbarton. — Greenock. — Paisley. — Clark's Thread Factory 64 Chapter tub Third. — Northern Scotland. I. Loch Lomond. — Ben Lomond. — Loch Katrine. — Tlie Trossachs.— Oban. — The Islands of Argyllshire, Staffa, lona, etc. ...•■■• II. Northern Scotland : The Caledonian Canal. — Stirling. — Dundee. — The Grampians. — Aberdeen. — Balmoral. — Inverness. — Sutherlandshire. — The Orkneys.— The Shetland Isles.— The Hebrides.— The Isle of Skye.— The Isle of Lewis .......-••••• 80 CONTENTS. SECTION II.— IRELAND. PAQK Chapter the First. — Dublin and Wicklow. I. From London to Holyhead and Dublin. — Ireland : A Conquered Country. — The Government. — The Administration. — The Police. — The Army. — Partition of the Soil. — Natural Production.s ......... 105 II. Dublin : its Situation. — General A.spect. — Monuments. — Two Cathedrals : St. Patrick's; Christ Church. — The Castle.— The Bank of Ireland. — The University. — The Custom-House. — The Law Courts 108 III. The Quays. — The Bridges. — St. Stephen's Green. — The Phoenix Park. — The Police. — The Museums, and the Scientific and Artistic Societies. — The Theatres. — Industry. — Commerce. — The Port of Dublin . . . . 119 IV. The Environs of Dublin. — Ilowth. — Kingstown. — The County Wicklow. — Powerscourt Waterfall. — The Darglci. — Glendalough 127 Chapter the Second. — Provincial Ireland. I. Belfast : — Shipbuilding. — The Manufactures. — The Round Tower of Drumbo. — The Giant's Causeway. — Cork, Queenstown. — Emigrants. — The Lakes and Mountains of Killarney . . . . . . . . . . 131 II. Limerick. — The Shannon. — Gahvay. — Lough Corrib. — Cong. — The Abbey.— Lough Mask.- — Connemara and the Joyce Country ..... 148 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. CHAPTER THE FIRST.-THE METROPOLIS. LONDON — ITS ORIGIN, GENERAL ASPECT, SITUATION, CLIMATE. ITS EXTENT, POPULATION. THE CITY PROPER J THE WEST END. The origin of Louclon is lost in the darkness of ages, and we arc reduced to conjecture concerning the actual period of the foundation of this City. All we know is that the Ancient Britons erected some huts which constituted a town, the name of which, Lhjii Bijn (the City on the Lake) , transformed hy the victorious Romans into Londinium, would furnish us with the etymology of the present English title — London. Caesar made no mention of it ; but Tacitus said that Londinium, although not a colony, was resorted to by the merchants of his day. It was not until more than a century after the invasion of England by the Romans, in the year 62, that the town was occupied by them ; but they, nevertheless, did not fortify it until the beginning of the Fourth Century. The enclosing wall, twenty-two feet high, and bristling with turrets, l)egan at the spot where the Tower of London now stands, and following a course indicated by the thoroughfares called the jMinories, Houndsditch, and London Wall, to Aldersgate and Ludgate, skirted the Thames from the last named locality to its starting point. 2 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. .-^ h iC-S'i HX*-- :2«?. Till tlie last century some portions of this rampart remained, hut now there arc no traces of it save two or three fragments in London Wall and at Lndgatc Hill. After the Romans, the Danes seized upon London, which they burned, and where they have left but few traces. To the Danes succeeded the Anglo-Saxons, who were conquered by William and his Norman adventurers. It was under the Conqueror's rule that the Tower of London was built, and the town of London assumed an importance which has been increasing ever since. Up to the Sixteenth Century, never- theless, the capital of England does not appear to have extended beyond the boundaries • of the actual City, as may be ascertained from a plan published about ]jGO, when what is called the Strand was then the highway between London and West- minster. At that ])eriod, London comprised about l.")0,000 inhaljitants ; a hundred years later, in KJGl, Graunt estimated the population at 381,000 souls ; but in this calcula- tion, the inhabitants of the outlying districts were, in all probability, included. From the epoch of George I., the city developed rapidly; the various villages which surrounded it were absorbed ; the roads became streets ; the fields became covei'cd with houses; but we cannot positively give the mnnber of the population, because the first census was not taken until LSOL 1\\ that year the total population of the metropolis, including the city of Westminster, the borough of Southwark, and the neighbouring places, was 864,845 inhaljitants. In 1811 there were 1,873,000. So the population had increased by more than a million in forty years. Ten years later the census returns showed 2,361,640 inhabitants ; in 1861, 2,803,034; in 1871,3,266,987; and in 1881, 3,832,441. By these figures it will be perceived that every decade adds about half a million of inhabitants to the population of London. The causes of this rapid increment of the population ai'c multifarious, and could not be enumerated here without exceeding the limits of this work. Nevertheless, it may be as well to mention that the Briton, who is not called upon by conscription or military duties, and who from his youth sees his future cut out for him, marries young, and usually has a large family. In the returns of births, London scarcely figures less tliau all the provinces, the percentage in the metropolis being 34-7 per thousand, while for the rest of the Uuited Kingdom it is 35-6 per thousand. As a matter of fact, modern London — the World's Metropolis as the English love to call it, — the capital of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland as it should be called — in no way rcscniijics tlie great Continental Cities, such as Paris, Vienna, or LONDON ViXUL. THE CITY. Berlin. From its very vastness London is, as has been very happily said, " A province covered with honses." By its geographical situation, London — about forty miles from tlie sea, with which it is in direct communication by a river (unspanned by a single bridge) by which the Largest vessels can ascend to its docks and quays — is one of the greatest commercial ports in the world. By its wealth, liy the prodigious development of its commerce, by the number of industries which it shelters, and the working population which it employs, it is one of the greatest industrial centres of Europe. It is from this triple point of view, that one must regard London at once as the capital, the seaport, and the manufacturing centre. It is difficult to say where London begins, or where it ends, for the very good reason, that having no fortifications, nor octroi boundaries [Foctroi does not exist in England), it assumes the characteristics of a drop of oil, and extends more and more, day by day, without anything hindering the increase of its area. Even the administrative divisions are not in agreement with each other; but if we accept as a basis the extent which is under the surveillance of the Metropolitan and the City Police, the superficial area of London is 411,000 acres, and its population 4,800,000 inhab- itants. Separated into two unequal parts by the Thames, which traverses it from west to cast, describing many extensive curves, London is situated in four counties, which are, on the north, ^Middlesex and Essex; on the south, Sui'rey and Kent. It embraces the old cities of London and Westminster, the borough of Southwark and forty other boroughs or villages, successively absorbed in the modern town, of which the extreme points are : Hampstead in the north ; (jreenwich and Woolwich in the east ; Streatham in the south; Hammersmith and Fulham in the west. The climate of London is temperate ; it is less cold there in winter, and less hot in summer, than in Paris ; but the plague of the city is fog : that thick yellow or tawny fog, of which the banks of the Thames possess the melancholy monopoly. As soon as November comes we must resign ourselves to the absence of the sun, or but very occasional glimpses of it. Fog is the order of the day. It obscures the streets, which become, consequently, dangerous ; penetrates, notwithstanding all precautions, into the best protected houses ; invades the theatres ; and extends throughout the city, carrying with it, not only darkness, but an acrid smell of coal-smoke. We have known a fog to last for a week, when there was no perceptible difference between night and day. Such an instance as this is luckily rare, but at all times during the winter one is liable to see a sudden curtain of fog come down and remain brooding over London for one, two, or three hours, or a day. Sometimes it disappears as quickly as it fell, or travels away on the wings of the wind to visit all quartei's of the metropolis in succession. At other times it is purely local, and forces itself into one corner of London, which is consequently plunged in obscurity while other districts are comparatively bright. The foggy days are dreaded by invalids, and the month of November is fatal to weak and delicate persons. Nevertheless, thanks to the hygienic precautions taken by the authorities, and the admirable system of drainage adopted by the IMunicipality, London is one of the healthiest cities of Europe, and may be stated, without fear of contradic- tion, to be the most healthy of the great capitals; for the mortality is only 20'4 per tliousand of the inhabitants. LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. Like all other cities, Loudon increases westwards, and on that side of the metropolis are the most beautiful quarters inhabited by the most aristocratic and the wealthiest classes of English society. In the East End is found the old town — that is to say, the City — and fartiier east still, the docks and the dockyards and ship-building yards, which line both sides of the Thames — from London Eridge to Blaekwall on the left bank, THE THAJIES. and to Greenwich on the right bank. So we may divide the metropolis into two distinct parts, viz., the Cltij — the business quai'ter, the centre of commerce and industry; and the ]]'est End — the aristocratic quarter, the centre of luxury and pleasure, the seat of government and of the public offices. Notwithstanding the great extent of London, it is still easy enough to find your way about — at least, in that central portion of the metropolis which docs not include the suburbs. The majority of the principal streets run north to south,, or cast to west; a map will show this in a moment. Taking Chai'ing Cross as a central point — or let us say rather, Trafalgar Square, wherein is the Nelson column — the visitor will perceive t^yo broad, almost straight and unintcrruiited lines from the westward ; one passing north, the other to the south of Ilydc Park, and tending towards the Cit\', where both approach in the vicinity of St. Paul's Cathedral. The former of these lines is composed of Oxford Street and Holborn ; the latter is formed by Piccadilly, the Strand, and Fleet Street. As the communication between Piccadilly and the Strand is not direct (in a straight line), we must make a bend by Waterloo Place and Pall JNLiU, which leads us into Trafalgar Square, whence the Strand is.sues. These two great transversal thoroughfares arc connected — commencing at the western extremity— by Park Lane, which skirts the eastern side of Hyde Park, Bond Street, THE CITY. Regent Street, Chancery Lane, Farringdon Street, and "Old Bailey." These thorougli- fares extend north and south ; the three latter are in the City, the others form a portion of the "West End. Particularly when one is imperfectly acquainted with the English language, it is as well to fix these points ou the memory. There is one infallible way by P L A X - G U I D E. which the bewildered ti'aveller who cannot make himself understood may proceed : — Let him hail a cab, and without saying a word to " cabby," give him w^ritten on a piece of paper the address of his hotel, to which he will then be driven without the slightest difficulty. Tiiosc who can express themselves in the language of Shakespeare should address themselves to the policemen in preference to any other individuals. This is the only method by which accurate information may be obtained, and a number of contretemps avoided — the least of which is to be sent in a direction diametrically opposite to that in which one wishes to proceed. II. THE CITV OF LOXnOy. its streets. — FLEET STREET AND THE NEWSPAPERS. — THE '•' TIMES," "illustrated LONDON NEWS," THE "GRAPHIC." THE CIRCULATING LIBRARIES. The City has been the cradle of London, as L'lle de la Cite Avas that of ancient Lutetia, now Paris. But there the analogy ceases. The "City" is to-day almost exactly what it always has been, and it extends from the Temple — lately Temple Bar, which has now disappeared, but of which we give an illustration — to Aldgate, and from the Thames, which bounds it on the south side, to a line irregularly traced by many streets built on the site of the old Roman wall. In the City we find the Bank of England, the Post Office, the ]\Iint, the Stock Exchange, some of the private banks, and the business houses of the principal bankers and merchants, who are known as " merchant princes." LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. The City of Loudou, which since the commencement of the Twelfth Century has formed a separate municipality without having to submit to any considerable change, has now assumed a position of almost miparallelcd importance. Its privileges, which it lias preserved almost intact since its foundation, and which successive Sovereigns have recognized, have given to the civic authorities an almost legendary prestige. The popular imagination has made the Lord Mayor a redoubtable personage, whose authority equals, if it docs not surpass, that of the Sovereign. The City Companies, whose wealth is immense, who possess landed property even in Ireland, exercise an muleniable influence which they endeavour to maintain and extend by all available means. All this contributes to invest the City of London with a power really considerable, but wdiich one is apt to exaggerate; so that on the Continent people regard the Lord Mayor as the greatest functionary of the State, to the great amusement of English people, who laugh pleasantly at what they call the ignorance of strangers, forgetting that there exists amongst themselves the same ignorance. The Corporation of the City of London consists of the Mayor, who has borne the title of "Lord" since 13.27; ~5 Aldermen, .2 Sherifls, and 206 Common Councilmen. Then follows an army of functionaries — such as the Chamberlain, the Recorder, the Sword Bearer, the INIace Bearer, the City Marshal, and others, all well paid. The Lord flavor, elected for a year, is domiciled during tlie exercise of his high functions in a palace in the City, called the i\Iansiou House, which is furnished with regal luxury, and is served by an army of domestics in gorgeous liveries — occasionally of questionable taste (for every Lord Mayor chooses liis own liveries) — which are the admiration of the loungers on gala days. He receives .€10,000 for his expenses, but tliis sum is always insufficient, and it is seldom that the happy occupant of the ^Mayoralty gets out of it under an expenditure of u(l to the confusion wliich has reigned so long in the municipal administration of London, THE CITY. Tlie Lord flavor is, ex officio, a jiulgc of tlic Criminal Court, or Court of Assize, held at the Old Bailey, and he sits, as the Aldermen do, at the two City Police Courts, A special police force of 800 men is exclusively charged to maintain order within the City. This force is distinguished from the ^Metropolitan Police hy some slight difiereuee iu the uniform. There is nothing more curious than the appearance of the City streets. Here every- one seems to run rather than to walk. The City man goes straight forward like a shot from a cannon. He takes the shortest cuts : his minutes arc valuable. Do not stop him to make any inquiry, you will not succeed. The men who carry loads, the porterSj will not stop either, and jostle you in the coolest manner possible. As everyone is free to do the same, no one takes offence at such trifles in the City, where collisions and the rubbing of shoulders arc so much current coin, which is exchanged with charming liberality. At ten o'clock in the morning the crowd of vehicles and pedestrians is enormous ; it is with considerable difficulty that one can move about. The carriages, omnibuses, cabs, carts, and waggons cause an indescribable block. Every moment the two lines of passing traffic are sto]iped to permit the stream from the side streets to enter; and certain cross-ways, such as Ijy the Bank of England, for example, where eight great streets converge, disgorging an innumerable cpiantity of vehicles which cross each other in every direction, are every day the theatre of accidents — some very serious ones. The crossings of these streets are always dangerous. Notwithstanding the vigilance of the police, and the skill with which they momentarily suspend the ti'affic to permit the passage of pedestrians from one side to the other, the number of victims to tlieir own imprudence is still considerable. It is related of one of the most experienced of the Alpine guides of Chamounix that, after he had crossed one of these streets, he declared nothing should induce him to repeat the transit, as he found the passes of the Alps infinitely less dangerous and formidable than the streets of London. The cabs prowling along only add to the confusion. One of the favourite amusements of the London cabman is to crawl slowly by the kerb-stone so as to prevent pedestrians from passing. These genial knights of the whip follow each other in single file, and find immense pleasure in forming at the intersections of streets a moving barrier of fifteen or twenty vehicles, which it is dangerous to attempt to pass. Unhappy is the pedestrian Avho makes tiic attempt. A sudden movement of the hand which holds the reins causes the horse to start forward and overturn the venturesome passenger. Then the laugh comes in. Occasionally this little practical joke is the means by which " cabby " is brought before the police court ; but it is seldom, and the delinquent is released with a small fine, or sometimes even a severe magisterial reprimand. Nevertheless, we must recognize the immense superiority of the London cabmen to their brethren in Pai'is. "Cubby" can drive ! At one o'clock in the afternoon the streets are crowded with working men and clerks, who hurry towards the nearest chop-houses and taverns to snatch a hasty but substantial meal. Others seek, in pewter pots, the black or light beer which moistens their modest repast. Through the half-open doors one can perceive the shining counters, the mirrors relleeting the gleams of daylight, obscured at frequent intervals by the LOXDOX AXD ITS EXVIROXS. passage of some omnibus or heavy-laden waggon. Standing around tlic counters is a crowd of men, witli their hats on, hastily swallowing a few mouthfuls of food : and then, throwing down a piece of money, they rush away again, leaving their places to be filled up by new-comers as hungry as their predecessors. This maimer of eating — standing. like animals from a rack — has something lowering in it, some- thing that is repugnant to the French taste and instincts; but it is the custom, and that word explains everything. There are in tlie City some exceedingly good restaurants, frequented by a more luxurious set of customers, but at which the high prices are not within the compass of employes of lower grade, who form the most nimierous class, and prefer, with reason, _ the modest and less comfortable establishments which abound. Very few women, comparatively speaking, are seen in the City. The great-coat and tall hat predominate there. About six o'clock the City empties itself, the passers-by become fewer; the crowded omnibuses and trains are carrving away in all directions thousands of passengers whom they have brought to town in the morning. At night the City is deserted and almost silent, wrapped in profound repose. Tlie policemen only perambulate the streets, bull's-eye in hand, peering into dark corners, examining the fastenings of houses and warehouses, giving the alarm, or carrjing "■'u. THE CUT. help first in the event of fire. In a few hours the Ijusiest corner in the workl has become a dead city. As nioniin)^ returns, hfc is born again, each day more feverish, more animated. Time is money ! One of the most lively, and perhaps the most picturesque street in all the City, is Fleet Street, by -which we penetrate into the City when, going from Charing Cross, we luivc traversed the whole length of the Strand and passed the new Law Courts— an innnense Gothic edifice lately completed. We then find ourselves in fidl view of a singular monument — is it really a monument? — which marks the limits of the City at this point, and M'hieh has replaced the ancient gate of Temple Bar. The " Griffin," as this strange monument is called, is a structure supporting a peculiar animal, whose fore- feet are resting upon a shield bearing the City Arms. It is of the heraldic order of sculpture. On the sides of the pedestal are bas-reliefs, reminding us of the glories of the City ; and two statues, representing respectively the Queen and the Prince of Wales. Fleet Street has always been the head-quarters of printers and of publishers, and one even breathes the odour of printing. The ghosts of Johnson, Goldsmith, and the literary men of centuries past, flit through this street, so full of movement, so picturesque, and which has preserved the characteristics of a former age so rarely met with now-a-days. At the first glance, almost immediately on entering it. Fleet Street strikes even the superficial observer; it is nothing but a street of bookshops, printing establishments, and newspaper offices. The windows are garnished with copies of the illustrated papers, in front of which a crowd of curious gazers is collected, a few of whom will not pass on until they have read all they can, down to the name of the printer, in these gratuitously exposed publications. Most of the gi'cat daily papers have their ofhccs in or about Fleet Street, except the Times — for instance, the Standard is in St. Bride's Street ; the Morniny Post in Wellington Street, Strand ; and the Dally News chief offices are in Bouverie Street — and their localities may be easily recognized by the placards containing the summary of the paper of the day fixed at the doors in English fashion. Almost all these news- papers are " lodged " in luxury, and with an admirable regard to the requirements of such gigantic undertakings. Such arc the Standard and the Dailij Tdvyrapli, for the accommodation of which veritable palaces have been erected ; and the T'lnits, which, though not in Fleet Street, is not far from it. First we meet the Builij News, which was founded in 1846, and whose first editor was the late Charles Dickens, who was assisted by a brilliant staft", amongst whom were Douglas Jerrold, John Forster, the friend and biographer of Dickens, i\Iiss Martineau, the celebrated authoress, and many others. Notwithstanding all these elements of success, the journal did not win the popularity that had been expected. Dickens, who was but luke-warm in politics, soon retired from the editorship to devote himself exclusively to fiction, towards which his genius irresistibly attracted him. The Dai/ij News did not succeed any better under the direction of 'Slv. Dilke and its new proprietors, w ho, too confident in their star, threw their money out of window, so to speak ; and to attract purchasers, reduced the price of the paper to twopence half- penny, when the other " dailies" were fivepence. In five years the losses had amounted 10 LOKDUX AND ITS ENVIKONS. to £"200,000. At the present time, after so many vicissitudes, the Datlij News occupies a cons-iderable position in the Loudon Press, a success which is due to tlie abilities of the editors aud the enterprising spirit of the proprietors. It is the iccor,nized crijau of tlie Liberal uul R idieal pai ties. The circulation of the Daily Nexi IS about 100,000 copies. The price of the papei IS one penny. But it was to the Daili/ Tch'ffrajjfi — tlie youngest V '% i ot the London ' dailies "—that the complete revolution of l^^JI n \-'s'^~~ the Luglish Press is due. In 1855 the first number of ^^''^ yAyif\^ *'^*^ 7('/<'^/v//jA appeared ; it was founded by a Colonel ^^/■^, .-;S) Sleigh, who got into debt, and was obliged to resign the paper ^///^^i^'jP^ to Mr. Levy. This gentleman, who enjoys the glory of having .-?'-■'' instituted the cheap press in England, leduced the price of the Duily Tek'i/raph to a penny. It was a bold experiment, at a time when the -^ newspapers were selling at fourpeiiee, to publish for a penny a journal of the same-sized sheet as the Timeg, giving as much news, and edited with remarkable talent. The success was ])rodigious ; Mr. Levy was justified in his view. The cheap press supplied an evident \vaut, but up to that time no one had dared to cuter so boldly TilK (■IT^•. u into a new groove and to break from all the old traditions ; to do that it was necessary to possess an energy which few could boast of. Figures are dry, but possess a most convincing eloquence. The advertisements inserted in the first number of the Telegraph brought in exactly seven shillings and sixpence; at this moment the advertisements realize a sum of :(;160,00() per annum, and the circulation is 240,000 copies daily. It will be understood that the new-comer did not want for enemies, but it possessed the advantage of success, and after a miserable existence and a wretched end had been predicted for the Daily Telegraph, the other journals followed suit. The Times is now the only daily paper which is published at threepence. Almost opposite the ofiices of the Telegraph a crowd may be seen press- ing around the Punch office, where the amusing caricatures and cartoons attract the curious, and move even the grave City-man to laughter. Founded in 1841, Punch soon became popular; its attacks upon Sir Robert Peel gave it a political importance which it has retained ever since, for it is, above all, the political cartoon which makes the success of the chief comic paper of England. Everyone is acquainted with these cartoons, which represent, more than they caricature, the most prominent political personages who, during the last forty years or so, have occupied posts in the administra- "ruxcn." tions of the United Kingdom. But Punch, who delights in giving advice to everj'one, does not confine himself to reproofs of English politicians : he crosses the Straits easily, and calls continental statesmen to order as well as his own ruling personages at home. Nothing is more interesting and curious than to turn over the back numbers of Punch ; the history of the past forty years and more is therein traced in comic illustrations, full of good sense and piquancy without acrimony, and endowed with a fund of good humour, with which this estimable personage is never unprovided. The manner in which these political cartoons, and the letterpress which accompanies them, are produced, is some- what original, and is little known. There is a weekly dinner, at which the contributors, writers, and artists ai'C present, under the presidency of the Editor, and then the subject for the cartoon is selected. Each person present gives his opinion ; the events of the day arc discussed, the leading topic is eliminated, the cflcctivc word, the attitude to give to the personages born of the discussion ; and so the next Tiumber represents not 12 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. a fancv or an inspiration of one individual, but the expression of tlic collective ideas of the entire staff. This accounts for the remarkable fruitfulness of idea, the irrepres- sible " go/' which, without such an explana- tion, would be incomprehensible. Politics do not occupy Mr. Punch exclusively by any means : the manners, customs, and ridiculous traits of the entire nation equally come under his paternal criticism. In the number of his coUaborateurs Punch has reckoned Albert Smith and Thackeray; as draughtsmen and artists, Birket Foster, John Gilbert, John Leech, so well known by his admirable pictures, and Tenniel, the excel- lent designer of the cartoons. Not far from the Punch office, up a narrow lane on the opposite side of the street, are the offices of the Standard (and also facing St. Bride Street). At first it was an even- ing journal, instituted to carry on a vigorous campaign against Catholic emancipation : this was in 182G-7. In a short time, with the assistance of fanaticism, the circulation rose from seven hundred to more than three thousand; but, nevertheless, that success did not prevent the proprietor from becoming bankrupt. Then, in 1858, Mr. Johnson pur- chased the paper and reduced the price from fourpencc to a penny, after the example of the Daily Telei/raph. The success of this alteration exceeded all expectation, the "largest daily paper," as it styles itself on its numerous ])lacards, is worth a princely revenue. The Standard is the recognized organ of the Conservative party. In Printing House Square (Blackfriars) we find the offices of the Times, the best- known paper in the world, and the most influential and authoritative of the English - Press; one which the foreign papers, with good reason, consider as the organ which best reflects public opinion in England, although it may be that in England itself these opinions have been modified of late years. THE "aUIFKIN.' THE CITY. Although it has existed under another name since 1785, the Times really dates only from 1st January, 1788. Its founder, Mr. Walter, whose independence was dis- pleasing to the powers that were, had more than onee found himself at loggerheads with the Government, who did not spare him either prison or humiliation. In 180.3, his son succeeded to the conduct of the paper, to which he gave a new impulse. It was journalism made man. His perseverance, his indefatigable energy, the fertility of his invention, enabled him to sustain the struggle against the Government, then all powerful, and to emerge victorious. One memorable day the then Prime jNIinister seized in the post all the despatches addressed to the Times. Walter, by no means discouraged by such a trivial circumstance, organized a special service for his own use, and was enabled to announce the capitulation of Flushing — in 1805, this was — tlA.-r,-^f.-.'cr:j_-T.T-JSv..-= ®|jt pailj 5SS??:r=-— - Wo. 6,339.) LONDON. S^TJ' n*""""™™ ;^ ^», THE "DAILY TELEGRAPH" (OXE-THIRD OF FIRST PAGE). eight and forty hours before the Government itself had received the information. On another occasion, wishing to give his readers the first intelligence of a great political speech at Glasgow, he had it forwarded to London by mounted express. This cost .€200, but he anticipated all other sources of information by twenty-four hours. As early as 1814 he employed steam to print his journal, at the risk of being deserted by his compositors and printers, who dreaded the innovation. He had recourse to a ruse, for, while his men were waiting "copy," he composed and printed the journal in a house close by the office, where he had erected a steam press. Then he came, with the damp sheets in his hand, to announce to his employes that the Times had been printed by steam machinery. He quieted his men by telling them that he had taken measures to put down energetically any attempt at violence ; but that if they conducted themselves properly, he would continue to pay them their wages until tlicy had found other employment. A few statistics will give us an idea of the tremendous development of this journal. The circulation is 80,000, but certain special issues, such as those containing the biography of Prince Albert, or the number devoted to the account of the marriage of the Prince of Wales, have reached fabulous totals. In June, 1884<, the press of matter and advertisements necessitated the printing of 24 pages or 144 columns. The cashier of the Times still remembers a day on which the receipts for advertisements exceeded £1,400; the receipts of this department actually reach jt;20,000 a month, in round numbers, or more than jg240,000 per annum. Mr. John Walter, the 11 LUNUOX AND ITS KN\'11!UNS. gvandson of the fouiider, is now the actual proprietor of the Times. He represented Berkshire in Parliament, and is a Liberal in politics, faithful m this respect to the traditions of his family. The Times has never derogated from its high and loyal principles, and we have seen it, with a rare disinterestedness, protest loudly against the Railway Mania of 1845, at the risk of losing some £3,000 a fl-eek by the advertisements alone, which the daily newly formed companies of doubtful morality inserted. The political rule of the Times, above all things, consists in guiding and enlightening public opinion. It is affiliated to no party, hence the apparent contra- dictions, the recantations, sometimes so curious, which are only the natural outcome of the line of conduct which the Times has marked out for itself, and rigorously followed since its foundation. We can therefore appreciate what a very delicate task the politic E'3— iS-^i'^^K THE "times" (one-quarter OF FIRST P.\QE). director of the journal has to perform under such conditions, so as to be in accord with the opinion, not of the most noisy, but of the most numerous class ; not to accept a liasty movement of some for the general sentiment ; not to be " carried away," but to preserve a prudence and sagacity which will not militate against a vigorous initiative at critical moments. This crushing responsibility devolves upon the editor, assisted by a luimerous and picked stafl' of writers. As is well known, contributors are never wanting to the Times, and beyond the appointed editorial staff, is a large number of celebrities, political and otherwise, who supply from time to time notable articles, without reckoning tlie letters which are addressed to the paper from every part of the world. The cori'espondcnts of the Times abroad are regarded as diplomatists in partibus, and curiously enough, they are almost all of foreign nationalit}^ As articles are not signed, the irritating polemics from journal to journal, from editor to editor, are things unknown in the English press ; the more so as by a curious custom, each paper treats the subject from a difterent point of view of its own, witliout noticing the opinions of the otlicr journals, aiul absolutely as if it stood alone in journalism. If by this course, the public is deprived of some brilliant articles, it gains on the other hand by the quantity aiul accuracy of the information it receives, the well- considered " leaders " so soberly written, which guide and enlighten it, without the personality of the writer giving to his reflections an individual bias, certainly flattering to the autlior, but of wliicli the danger is at times great, and apt to lead opinions astray. THE CITV. 15 London has many weekly illustrated papers. The two principal of tliese which dispute for public favour are the IHtistrafed London Xeics and the Graphic. The offices of both these journals ai'e situated in the Strand close to each other, and a few paces from the entrance to the City. The Illustrated London News, the fii-st pictorial journal established iu England, was founded iu 1841, by Mr. Herbert Ingram, an energeiic and able man, avIiosc enter- prise attained an undoubted success. Applying to the illustrated press the principle of the daily papers, he suiTounded himself with a staff of contributoi*s and artists of high merit, secured the assistance of correspondents in all pai'ts of the globe, and made the "Illustration de Londres," as the paper is called on the continent, a journal of the highest interest as much by the text as by the illustrations with which it was filled. For thirty years this interesting serial continued its triumphant progress, uu- dimmed by the pale lustre of any weekly rivals, which sought to compete with it in public favour, and died in a few we.ks. It was not until 1870 that its rival, the Graphic, now celebrated, proved that there was room for another pictorial paper by the side of the Illustrated. It is only fair to say that the Graphic, excellently illustrated, edited and conducted with rare ability, continues to merit the success which it met with on its firet appearance. Perhaps the Franco-German "War, which broke out soon after the establishment of the Graphic, had something to do with its success, for it appeared at a time when the public, greedy for news and pictm'cs illustrating the principal incidents of the "War, made a raid on all journals, -whether illustrated or not. 'I'licrc was, during the annee terrible, a Homeric struggle between the two great illustrated London papers to be first in the field, and to give to the public the representations of the most recent events. Besides pictures, and their relative letter-press, the Graphic publishes special articles, and tales written by favourite authors, illustrated by excellent artists. At Chi'istmas-time these papers produce special numbers jjrofusely illustrated, and containing a large chromo-lithograph, for which some celebrated painter has supplied the original. Thus some of the engravings signed by ^Millais, Leighton, Herkomer, and others, have cost as much as a thousand pounds sterling each. The circulation of these Clu'istmas Numbers, mIucIi are sold at a shilling a piece, reaches the enormous figm-e of about half a million copies. The usual price of the paper is sixpence. Let us add a few statistics relative to this subject. There arc, at this moment, in the United Kingdom 1,817 papers of all classes; 1,458 of these are published in England (London alone has 375) ; there are 183 in Scotland, 15(j in Ireland, and 'M iu the Islands. The number of !NLagazines and Reviews is considerable, they reach a total of 1,180, of v.hich 300 are exclusively devoted to religious topics and polemical discussion. The English public is very eager for information — correct, precise, and rapid. Everyone reads two newspapers a day, without reckoning the numerous periodicals whicli arc placed on every table iu every libr:u-y of the aristocratic mansions, as well as in the middle-class houses, and which everyone reads. The English people arc the greatest readers on earth; the taste for reading is with them almost a passion. English women, of the lower middle-class in particular, are le; LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. passionately fond of novels. In the upper micldle-clasjcs and amongst the aristocracy, No 736--VOL XXIX 1 RrgiUtriil aj a t^rwipapir J AN ILLUSTRATED \i LEKLV tJEWSIAFLR SATURDAY, JANUARY 5, 1SS4 tiyklSll^ V b, pl!iY4lZ"^U„ VICTUIIIA Uf HESSE-DA11.M.STADT (THE KI.DEST DArcHTEl! OK THE LATE PRINCESS ALICE) AND HEK KIANCE, riUNCE LOUIS OK BATTENBEUG. the ladies, who arc well informed, speak — or, at least, understand — two foreign THE CITV. languages — nearly always French and German — and read a considerable number of foreign books and periodicals. French modern literature is well known in England, and many French authors are highly appreciated there. But as it would be ruinous to purchase all the books one wishes to read, a system of Circulating Libraries has been insti- tuted. These are establishments at which subscribers of sums varying from one to four guineas, according to the number of the volumes lent, may obtain all the books and reviews — English, French, German, or Italian — whether new or old, they may require. The most important of these establishments is Mudie's Lil)rary, which includes about 1)00,000 volumes. It is estimated that about 10,000 entries and despatches of books per day take place at Mudie's alone. Other libraries of later introduction have rapidly reached an important position. There are some Circulating Libraries which supply foreign works exclusively ; a fact which suf- ficiently indicates the taste of the English people for the literature of other countries. Sometimes subscribers make pencilled marginal notes in the volumes they read, especially in foreign books, and these are often instructive. In a French novel the author, wishing to picture a very wealthy duke, gave him an income of 200,000 francs. The English reader wrote in the margin, ". £8,000 sterling; what an income for a duke ! " Tiie Englishman derided such a roLicEMAN. revenue as that for a man occupying such an elevated position in the aristocratic world. Do not we here pereei\e the difference between the two countries ? and is not this remark a typical one ? On another occasion a joke, somewhat free, but one which would in France have passed without remark, was commented on as "essentially French." We must not misapprehend the meaning of this note, which did not aim at emphasizing a distinctive trait of the French character— in this instance French meant " indecent; " certain jokes received amongst the French appearing to the English utterly improper. Betwixt the English mind and the French mind is a great gulf fixed, which even those who are best acquainted witli the characteristics of the two nations cannot always bridge over. 18 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. III. THE ANCIENT CITY. — REMAINS OF ROMAN LONDON. THE LONDON STONE. THE TOWEK. — QUEEN victoria's KEYS. — ST. JOHN's GATE. — SHAKESPEAKE's HOUSE. The almost entire absence of ancient monuments in a city, the origin of wliich is so autiquated, is not one of the least surprises which London presents to the stranger. One fancies usually that the old " City " encloses a number of old (secular) edifices; that in those dark streets and obscure passages called " lanes," new buildings would be the exception, not the rule. But this is an error. 'J'he dark houses which border the City ways are relatively modern, for, notwithstanding the respect which the English profess for all that savours of antiquity ; notwithstanding their lo\e for old customs and ancient traditions (the word "old" is in English a term of affection), they know how to make allowance for increasing necessities and new wants, and sacrifice — not without hesitation, it is true, but nevertheless with determination — all the ancient monuments which, useless or in the way, impede the development of their metropolis. It is for this reason that the picturesque houses, which formerly were visible in the City, have almost entirely disappeared, and are now replaced by massive edifices, in which iron, stone, and marble, are used profusely ; and while thus beautifying the City, the aspect of which is changing day by day, the Londoners are protecting it against destruction by fire, of which the risks in London are so great. As a matter of fact, at all times the City has had to contend against this formidable foe. Seven times before the terrible catastrophe of 1666, which destroyed 13,000 houses and 87 churches, the City has been the prey of the flames. One would have fancied that after such severe lessons, the civic authorities, rendered wiser by experience, would have taken measures to prevent the recurrence of similar calamities. But nothing came of it, and it is only within the last few years that the corporation has taken energetic measures, and given the impulse thanks to which the City is losing its picturesqueness, but is gaining in salubrity — and, let us confess it, in beauty. At the present time, when the pickaxe of the house demolisher is finishing the work begun by fire, there remain but a few scarce vestiges of ancient London, known only to archfeologists and antiquaries, who deplore the approaching disappearance of oven these i-emains. Let us pass them quickly in review, and salute in these old ruins a past time of blood and barbarism, but a period not without glory and grandeur as well. Of the Roman enceinte, built in the year 306, there remain but a few fragments in the street called London Wall, near St. Alphage's Church, in Bloomfield Street, Fiusbury, and in St. INIartin's Court, on the South side of Ludgatc Hill. Another very interesting relic, also dating from the llomau period, is the London Stone encased in the wall of St. Swithin's Church, opposite Cannon Street Railway Station. All opinions agree in recognizing this block of granite as a " mile-stone," placed by the Romans in the centre of the town, like that in the Forum at Rome, from which all distances were THE CITY. 1!) measured. This stone has changed its place many times, and would have been lost had not Mr. Maiden, an antiquary, rescued it in the last century, and obtained the permission of the parochial authorities for its preservation. Under the Coal Exchange in Lower Thames Street, besides this relic, the remains of a hypocaust were discovered, and may still be inspected; while in the Strand, at some little distance i'rora Somerset House, a narrow alley conducts the visitor to a bathing establishment, of which the piscina appears to have been constructed by the Romans. No trace of Anglo-Saxon London, the capital of the Kingdom of Essex, exists. Burned by the Danes in 851, the town built by Alfred was totally destroyed by fire in 886, and to recall the old City and the Middle Ages, nothing remains but the Tower of London, and some crypts concealed by modern edifices. The Tower of London is beyond all question the most interesting monument in the City. It is situated at the end of Tower Street upon a rising ground, which it covers, and extends along the LONDON STONE. ''", *'l 'J?k -t;:«' "hf. mm Thames. Viewed from the river, the ensemble of ancient embattled walls of dark buildings, which are dominated by the imposing mass of the White Tower, flanked by four pointed turrets, pro- duces an indescribable impression on the spectator. It is the em- bodiment of the Middle Ages in all its terribleness, surviving in the middle of the 19th Century. It is barbarism, elbowing progress ; it is the Feudal System snapping its fingers at jModern Society. What memories arc evoked by those w-alls, on which the action of Time is scarcely perceptible ! First comes William the Conqueror, the founder of the Tower of London (some authorities attribute it to Julius Caesar), who, suspicious, and distrusting his subordinates, made it his usual residence. Then we have a long array of iiuhajipy prisoners, commencing with the Bishop of Durham, in 1100, and ending with Sir Francis Burdett, in 1820. What snft'orings, what crimes. OLD ROM.\N BATIL 20 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. what horrors, have been compressed into those eight centuries! What august personages, liow many innocent victims, whose names occur to us, such as King John, made prisoner at Poitiers ; Charles of Orleans, father of Louis XII. ; Thomas More, Raleigh, Bacon, Strafford, Anne Boleyn, Catherine Howard, Jane Grey, the voung Princes, and many other personages less known, hut fully as deserving of commiseration ! It was at the Tower of London that Henry VIII., in great state, received his wives, and where two of them, Anne Boleyn and Catherine Howard, were beheaded. Under the reign of Mary Tudor, the Princess Elizabeth was incarcerated in the old fortress, ANCIENT PLAN OK THE TOWER. and, tliouich liavinji- liorsclf experienced the miseries of the prison, she did not hesitate to consign thither such of her enemies as she could reach when she attained the throne. Later still the infamous Jeffreys therein expiated his cruelties, and died abjectly —an end worthy of his life. Under George I. the Jacobites were confined in the Tower, and were all executed with the exception of Lords Winton and Nithsdale, who managed to effect their escape. The latter owed his freedom to the devotion of his wife and a faithful female servant. These two women made their way to his prison on the day before that fixed for his execution, and Lord Nithsdale, disguised as the female doigicstic, quitted the prison and escaped, wlulc the woman remained in his place in the cell. These same means, with little variation, were employed to effect the escape of Monsieur de Lavalette from his prison. Successively a royal residence, a court of justice, a fortress, .and a prison, the Tower is now an arsenal, a barrack, a mUitary store deiMjt, and for the public one of the THK TOWER OF LONDON, FROM THE THAMES. 22 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. curiosities of the laietropolis. Tlie last sovereign who resided in the Tower was James I., whose favourite amusement there was in watching fights hetween lions, and bears, and dogs. He had, in fact, a menagerie there, which was traditionally kept up until 1834. In the 18th Century the Tower lions were named after the reigning sovereign (or Royal Family), and there was a popular bflief tliat when the King died the lion named after him died at the same time. It is by the Lion's Gate — so called because it" is situated near the space formerly occupied by these animals — that the visitor enters the Tower, which is pro- tected by a double enceinte, by ditches, bastions, turrets, case- rn a t e s, grating s, portcullis, and draw- bridge. The visitors in parties of a dozen at a time are conducted by warders clothed in semi-modern costume. Tliey wear the doublet and the head-gear of the Yeomen of tlie Guard at the time of Henry VIII., and " in- expressibles " of dark blue bordered with scarlet. This peculiar costume, which in any other country would cause ridicule, does not surprise Englis.h visitors, who, perhaps, regard it as an emblem of the British Constitution, a curious mingling of feudal customs with liberal institutions. On gala days the "Beefeaters"* — as these guardians of the Tower are called — are clothed in knee-breeches and stockings, ami wear shoes with rosettes. Under the guidance of one of these warders, people visit in turn the Traitor's Gate, the Bloody Tower — where, it is said, the young ST. JOHN'S GATE, CLERKENWELL. * Beefeater is a corruption of huffeticr, an attendant at supper. THE (,'ITV. 23 enumerate the precious stoues which it contains : one immense ruby — that worn by the Black Prince — 1 large sapphire, 16 smaller sapphires, 11 emeralds, four other rabies, 1,363 brilliants, 1,273 rose - diamonds, 147 diamonds, 4 pear- shaped pearls, and !273 ordinary pearls. The value of the crown is estimated at nearly jfcl 20,000. The inspection of the fortress is terminated by a visit to the Chapel and the Beauchamp Tower, restored in 1851. The Tower is under the command of an old Field-officer, generally a Field-marshal, who is designated Constable of the Tower, and receives £1,000 per annum for doing nothing, for the Lieutenant prmces were mur- dered — the White Tower, which con- tains a superb col- lection of ancient armour arranged most carefully in chronologic al order and admir- ably kept ; the trophies from Waterloo, and the instruments of torture which bear witness to the refinements of an ingenious cruelty. The visitor afterwards sees the Crown Jewels, which are placed in a circular glass recep- tacle, and protected by a cage of well-tempered iron. Ladies especially make a long pause before this dazzling collection of precious stones, of Avhich it is almost impossible to assess the value. The most remarkable object is the crown made for Queen Victoria in 1838; it is surmounted by a Maltese Cross, in the centre of which is an uncut ruby which the Black Prince wore at Agincourt. This crown, which weighs about 40 oz. troy, sparkles with diamonds, rubies, emeralds, and sapphires. One may form some conception of it, if we of the fortress is the working commandant. This sinecure, which is eagerly after, was, at one time, filled bv c OLD HOUSES, mmm 24 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. the great Duke of Wellington. The closing of the Tower gates is still accompauiccl by a very cnrious ceremonial. A little before eleven at night the chief warder^ clad in a red cloak, and bearing a gigantic bunch of keys, jiresents himself at the guard-house and erics out, " Keys escort ! " A sergeant's guard immediately turns out and the detachment marches off to visit all' the gates, which are carefully fastened. As the "rounds" proceed, every sentry calls out, "Who goes there?" To this challenge the escort replies, "The Keys." On ST. JOHN'S CHAPEL (TOWER or LONDON). tlie return to the guard-house, the bearer is challenged again, and the following little dialogue ensues : — " Who goes there ? " " The Keys ! " "Whose Keys?" " Queen A^ietoria's Keys.'' " Advance Queen Victoria's Keys— all's well." The chief warder then replies, " God bless the Queen Victoria." To which the sentinel responds, "Amen ! " Then the officer on duty salutes, the troops present arms, while the cliief warder dc])osits the keys in the Lieutenant's house. To find another relic of the old City, we must make our way to St. John's dale in Clerkenwcll, onee the cntninee to the Priory of tlie Kni-hts Hospitallers of St. John of Jerusalem. VIKWS OF THK TOWKP. 26 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. St. John's Gate was erected in the 16th century, and is composed of an ogival arch, flanked by two massive towers pierced with numerous embrasures. Above the gate are three escutcheons, the centre one bears the arms of France and England surmounted by an enormous regal crown; the two other sliields bear the arms of the Brotherhood. r \ ^«n ll ^. J \ "T'Sm 4ii^ J LI) HOI -^^> IN Hll B RN To a Sock t^ of Xuhitcct^ l^ du( the pi c^ci \ ition of this iiitei opting iclic of the pastj concerning wliioli, A^olldclful to relate, the Society of Antujn u ics did not tioiiblc tlunTichcs \\ c niu«;t not omit to mention in this placei the English branch of the Knights of St John oi Jouisilini, vliicli at picscnt exists as 1 jmicK Hv Society, «hosc nii-sioii IS to assist com descents on tlicu kaMiig the liospitds, ind to pro\idc ambulances A deci ee of the Court of the Queen's Bench, 111 1834', iiutiiui iZl'iI tliC J L:-Cuii.->titiitiwii \A the order, and confirmed the charter granted The Duke of Manchester is, at present, the head of tliis riiilaiithropic Society. Some houses, situated in different parts of the City, are curious from their antiquity, and for the associations which attach to them. by Quccu ]\Tary to the Knights of St. John. THE CITY. Such are three mansions, of which we have given illustrations, known as Newcastle House^ Sir Paul Pindar's House, or Schom- berg House (see page 23), also the house of Sir John Soane in Lincoln's Inn Fields, wherein is a very interesting ]\Iuseum. When we have mentioned, amongst the antiquities of London, some old gabled houses in Hoi born, facing Gray's Inn lload, and the house in Aldersgate Street which is stated to have been occupied by Shakespeare — though the legend lacks confirmation — we have passed in review the principal ancient monuments, interesting from an architectui-al point of view, which still remain standing, or, at least, all those which it is possible to see. IV, kuligious edifices. — st. paul s cathedral. the anglican church. church of england. — the temple church. st. Andrew's undershaft. — stow. — st. GILES. ST. BARTHOLO.MEW. THE PRE- BENDARIES. SHAKESPEAEES HOUSE. The City of London possesses a large number of churches, the majority of which are, comparatively speaking, modern, for the Great Fire only left about a dozen standing out of the hundred which had formerly existed in the Old City. Almost all those which we see at present, were built by Wren, or by his numerous pupils. The result is a monotony in construction, decoration, and style. When we have seen one, we have seen all. The crowning work of Sir Christopher Wren is the famous Cathedi-al of St. Paul, a copy of St. Peter's at Rome. Admirably situated upon an eminence, from which it dominates the town, the Cathedral of London has the worst surroundings which it is possible to imagine. No matter where the spectator stands, far or near, he can never behold but a portion of the edifice. As for viewing it as a whole, it is not to be thought of. From the " church- yard " it is as much as one can do to see the top, so closely do the houses approach it, especially on the north side : vehicles can only circulate on the south side, which alone is wide enough to allow a carriage-way and a foot-way to be made. There was, at one time, a spot whence an excellent view could be obtained of the fa9ade and the dome, this was at the bottom of Ludgate Hill, an ascending street Avhich leads direct to 28 LONDON AND ITS ENVIEONS. the Cathedral : but several years ago a clumsy railway viaduct cut the perspective in twain so that at the present time it is difficult to examine, at leisure, the most beautiful modern religious monument in London. To see this Catliedral properly, under its most picturesque aspect, so as to grasp its enormous proportions, the visitor must proceed to Blackfriars Bridge, and even then, he will only be able to survey the upper portion of the edifice. In 1G75 the first &toue of the present Cathedral was laid, and the edifice was not completed till thirty-five years afterwards, in 171U. Contrary to general experience, the architect had the satisfaction of seeing the completion of the work he had initiated. St. Paul's is built in the form of the Latin Cross. The fa9ade is composed of a portico supported by twelve columns of the Corinthian order, eight composite columns vising above the former and sustaining a pediment ornamented by a bas ?'e//e/representing the conversion of St. Paul. A statue of the Saint dominates the pediment. At either side of the portico is a clock -tower 2.20 feet high, ter- minating in a point and con- taining the clock and bells. A gigantic dome, surmounted by a lantern, and gilt ball and cross, complete the edifice ; the total height of which is, from the street to the top of the cross,, 365 feet. The interior, like all " Protestant temple " interiors, is naked and cold, but of great architectural beauty. Entering by the North door, the visitor is immediately under the dome, which is sustained by eight elegant arches, and decorated with some mediocre paintings by Thornhill, rejn-esenting the principal events in the life of Saint Paul. These are in a deplorable condition, and ought to make way at once for the frescoes executed by Sir Frederick Leigliton, the President of the Royal Academy. In the choir, the visitor will remark the beautifully carved stalls, the work of Grinling Gibbons, the episcopal throne, the Lord Mayor's chair, the altar, the pulpit, and the organ, Avhich is one of the most beautiful in England. This is very little for so vast an edifice, and one comes away from St. Paul's Cathedral with a profound sense of disappointment. "NVliat, no stained glass, no ornaments, nothing but those poor frescoes of Thornhill, paid for^ this is historical — at €2 the square yard, ami the funeral monuments raised to tlie memory of the heroes who have died for their country — more interesting because of the memories they arouse than for their artistic value ! The most worthy of notice is the monument of the Uuke of Wellington, which is situated to the right of the West doors as FACADE OF ST. FADL S. 30 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. you enter. It is composed of a sareopliagusj on which is a bronze statue of the deceased warrior. Twelve columns of the Corinthian order support a species of dais, iu marble, and two groups representing, respectively. Valour crushing Cowardice, and Truth triumphant over Falsehood. The monument is the work of A. Stephens. The monuments of Nelson, by Flaxman, and of Sir Charles Napier, by Adams, are amongst the most noteworthy. St. Paul's is the burying place, par excellence, of soldiers and sailors. Besides the monuments of Nelson and Wellington, we find those of Picton, killed at Waterloo, Sir John Moore, the adversary of Soult at Corunna, of Admirals Rodney, Duncan, Collingwood, and Saint Vincent. But we do not meet only with the tombs of warriors, for the painters Reynolds, Lawrence, West, Turner, Fuseli, and Landseer, repose here near the celebrated Dr. Johnson, John Rennie, the engineer of Waterloo Bridge, and Sir Christopher Wren, the architect of Saint Paul's. The last named has no special monument erected to his memory, but in the cathedral nave is a mural tablet, which bears his name and the following inscription : — " Si monumentum quieris, circumspice." It could not be better expressed. The "chapter" of Saint Paul's, which is, as we know, the Cathedral of London, consists of a Dean, a Sub-Dean, Four Canons, a Chancellor, and a large number of Vicars and other ecclesiastics. The Sunday services are well attended, but it is seldom that the immense space is filled. Londoners prefer to go to Westminster, to which access is more easy, and where the singing is held in great estimation. The Church of England is divided into two camps, the High Church and the Low Church. The former approaches, in the number of its wax candles, the illumination of the altar, the incense, and the rich priestly vestments, to the pomp of the Roman ('atholic Church. It is in these particulars that it irritates the Puritans of the Low Church party, for whom all ornate services, every statue, every painting, is the abomina- tion of desolation, and who would banish even the organ from Protestant places of worship. This is, perhaps, the place in which to speak of the Anglican Church. The Church of England is Protestant and Episcopalian. Its doctrines are comprised in the Thirty-nine Articles framed by the Convocation of 1552, revised and definitely established in 1571. The Anglican religion is essentially a religion of State. Legally, the Sovereign is the head of it, and nominates the Archbishops and Bishops by the hands of the First Lord of tlic Treasury, who dispenses all the Crown patronage. The Cimrch is governed by the Archbishops of Canterbury and York, and by thirty Bishops. The highest ecclesiastical dignitary is the Archbishop of Canterbury, who is the Primate of all England. The two Archbishops and twenty-four Bishops sit in the House of Peers. For the direction of afl'airs ecclesiastic, England is divided into two Provinces — those of York and Canterbury, each having as chief an Archbishop, assisted by numerous Bishops. There is in each Province a Council, styled Convocation, the members of which arc Bishops, Archdeacons, Deans, and representatives elected by the t'llHIU OF ST. I'Ari. AND WKLLINCTON'S MONUMENT. 32 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. clergy. The Province of Canterbury has two " Houses,' the Archbishop and tiie Bishops sit in one, and the lower clergy in the other. The Members of Convocation in the Province of York sit all together. The revenues of the Church are administered by a Commission, composed of two XAVK (IK ST. I'AULS, Archbishops, twenty Bishops, five Ministers, three Judges, three Deans, and twelve Lay Members. The annual revenue of the Church is estimated at ten millions sterling, from which the clergy are largely remunerated, from the Archbishop of Canterbury, with his THE CITV. 33 ct 15,000 a year, down to the Bishop of Sodor and Man, who receives £2,000 a year. After the Bishops conic the Deans, whose emoluments' vary between £3,000 and £800 a year, and finally the parish Clergymen, including Rectors, Vicars, and Curates. England comprises about 12,000 parishes. At the head of each parish is a Rector, who enjoys all privileges, tithes, and other advantages attached to his benefice. He is assisted by the vicar and the curate, who occupies the last grade in the ecclesiastical hierarchy. Besides the Queen, the Lord Chancellor, the Prince of Wales, the Bishops, the Chapters, and the Universities, there arc about 3,850 lords and gentlemen, and even ladies, who can dis- pose of the benefices at- tached to their property. The Anglican clergy reckons 23,000 members, who have the spiritual care of about 13,000,000 of individuals. The in- fluence of the clergy is considerable, although carefully disguised ; it is easy to understand this influence when one re- calls the manner in which the livings are awarded, st. Bartholomew's chirch. and those who dispose of them. The other Protestant sects are very numerous, and number some hundred and forty, of which some — the Salvation Army, for instance — can scarcely be regarded as religious institutions. As for the Roman Catholic Church, it includes in the United Kingdom about six million members, of whom four millions are in Ireland. The clergy comprise seven Archbishops, forty Bishops, and a great number of Priests of all ranks. Now, arc the English a religious people? Yes, if religion consists chiefly in the regular practice of religious observances — a strict regard for Sunday, and a marked tendency to quote texts on every occasion. Amongst the well-to-do and aristocratic faith appears rather feeble, and it is above all things for the " sake of example " that Society goes to worship, particularly in the country. Some gentlemen, who never enter a church in Loudon, never fail to attend the services in their own parishes. Evidently their 5 34 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. convictions do not alter witli their change of places ; but it is for the " sake of setting an example." Besides, no one makes any secret of the matter, and this is carried on with a certain amount of frankness. Amongst the lower middle-classes religion assumes a sour and intolerant form, which tends to fanaticism ; hut a very curious fanaticism, which does not lose sight of THE TEMPLE CHI-'IiiH. the main chance. The Englishman of this persuasion has been well defined in the following classic dialogue between the religious grocer and his shopman: — " John, have you sanded the brown sugar?" " Yes, sir." " And put the plaster of Paris in the ])owdered sugar ? " " Yes, sir." THE CITY. 35 " And the chicory in the coffee ? " " Yes, sir." " Very well ; now let ns go to j)rayers ! " Tlie members of tliis class, it must be added, do not belong to the Church of England, but to indei)cudent sects. We meet them in the chapels, and not in the churches dedicated to the orthodox religion. This digression has carried us far away from the City, and the churches it encloses. Let us hasten to return, and glance at the Temple Church, built in 1185, and since frequently restored. It belongs to the two " Societies " of the Temple — a Corporation of Barristers (Benchers). Amongst those churches which escaped the fire, that of St. Andrew's Undershaft * is the most interesting. It is remarkable for its stained-glass windows, and contains a number of monuments, of which the most remarkable is that of John Stow, the historian, who died in 1605. Stow was a tailor by trade, and renounced his humble calling to write the Annals and Chronicles. James I., who has the I'eputation of having encouraged literary merit, generously granted Stow the permission to beg ! One year after having received this signal mark of his Sovereign's bounty he died in great misery. Let us also mention among the City churches, St. Giles, Cripplegate (surrounded by a garden in which is a portion of the old Roman wall), and St. Bartholomew the Great, in West Smithfield, the tower of which and the roof, in timber with sunken panels, are worth special mention. Here are also several ancient tombs, and a fine crypt. Hogarth, the celebrated painter, was baptized at St. Bartholomew's Church. In general these churches have but a few " faithful " attending them, for few people live in the City. Sometimes there is no one in the church — but that fact does not prevent the vicar from pocketing the comfortable revenues. These livings are the object of lively seeking on the part of the Anglican clergy. A few figures will give us an idea of their value. St, Botolph, Bishopsgate, is worth £1,200; St. Giles, Cripplegate, .€1,280. All are evidently not so well endowed, St. Bartholomew-the-Less, for example, only brings in €13; but in general the position of a vicar of a City church is a very easy one, and much to be envied. V. THE CIVIC BUILDINGS. — THE GUILDHALL. THE MANSION HOUSE. — THE POLICE COURTS, "white gloves." — THE BANK OF ENGLAND. BANKERS. THE CLEARING HOUSE. — THE ROYAL EXCHANGE. " LLOYd's." THE STOCK EXCHANGE. BEARS AND BULLS. THE MONUMENT. — THE CITY COMPANIES. — COMMERCE AND THE MERCHANTS. The Civic Monuments are not, as a rule, of such exterior attractiveness as to compel attention. Badly situated for the most part in narrow streets blackened by Su L-alled because it was lower tlian the Cireat Maypole which stood here — hence under-slia!t. 36 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. (J # smoke more than by time ; it is chiefly by the richness of their interior decorations, and the value of the art objects which they enshrine, that the Mansion House and the Halls of the different City Companies are so justly celebrated. Almost all of them have submitted to restorations more or less happy, and frequently badly concealed; the result is a want of harmony between the various portions, a patchwork appearance which is shocking to the taste. Often, very often, the architect has hidden a facade of brick by a facing of cement, wliich scales ofi', and the ravages of time become only too visible. One cannot help thinking that under the head of architecture the capital of the United Kingdom leaves much to be desired. The Guildhall of London is the first imposing edifice which one perceives after quitting St. Paul's, and proceeding to the Royal Ex- change, eastward. The Guildhall is situated at the end of King Street, in a cul de sac, in which a number of pigeons disport themselves — the geese of the capitol, which have become as tame as the vulgar Parisian sparrows. The Guildhall, erected in IHI, partly destroyed by the fire of IGGH, which left only the wall and the crypt uninjured; rebuilt in 1709, and "restored" in 1865 and 18G7, is by no means worthy of the British Metropolis. The entrance, wliolly modern, is wanting in style and elegance, and is scarcely in harmony with the old portions of the edifice, although it was attempted to give it a Gothic air. Above the front are the City Arms, the Sword of St. George, and the Ci'oss of St. Paul, with the motto Dominc dirif/e nos. Inside, the great hall, open to the public, is an imposing Gotliic nave l.'tO feet long, 50 wide, and 58 high. The sides are divided into long panels by clustered columns, from which spring arched buttresses of exceeding lightness which suppoit the roof The panels are ornamented with wood-carving most delicately executed, a kind of decoration wliich we find repeated ill the majority of English monuments, and which harmonizes with the Gothic style generally adopted in the country. There are some very commonplace statues, representing Nelson, Wellington, Tjord Chatham, William Pitt, Queen Elizabeth, Edward VI., and h^. CRYPT (GUILDHAIJ,) THE CITY. 37 Charles T. Two gigantic and grotesque personages carved in wood occupy one end of tlie hall. They arc the two legendary giants, Gog and Magog, whose origin is unknown. Tradition tells us that they formerly fought for the glory and independence of their country — which is not named — and their presence in the Guildhall signifies that 38 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. the Corporation is, as they were, ready to defend the independence and the honour of tlie City of liondon. Two Large windows, one at each end, permit the entrance of tlie light, which is subdued hy tlie stained glass windows; at night seven gas lustres serve to illuminate the hall. It is here that the famous ban- quets take place annually on the 9th of November — the day on which the installation of the new Lord Mayor takes place; and here the meetings and grand receptions of the Corporation are held. These feasts hold an im- portant place in the records of the city, and it is not a successful fete which does not wind up with one of those pantagruelian re- pasts wliieli have so often given rise to merriment at the expense of the Corpor- ation. There is, in the Guild- hall, an excellent Public Library, open every day from ten o'clock in the morning until nine in the evening. Here will be found a remarkable collec- tion of books and engrav- ings relating to the history of London, and a number of old relics discovered in the city. One of the curiosities is a conveyance deed bear- ing the authentic signature of William Shakspere — as the name is therein spelt. After having glanced at the tril)unals gi'ouped around the Guildhall — tlie Police Court, tlie Tjord IMayor's Court, &c. — we find ourselves again in the street leading to Cheapside, and at the end of the latter thoroughfare wc find the " palace of the first magistrate of the City." The Mansion House, the residence of tlie Lord Mayor, is situated in the heart of GVILDHALL. THE CITY. 39 the City, facing the Bank of England, near the spot where eight streets convero-e. It is a square edifice of Portland Stone of a heavy and sombre appearance. The facade consists of the inevitable Greek Colonnade, to which one ascends by a double flight of steps, very narrow. Six columns of the ("orinthian order are surmounted by a pedi- ment, ornamented by an allegorical bas- relief The principal figures of this composi- tion by Sir Robert Taylor represent London, the Thames, Plenty, Envy, and Commerce. The interior of the Mansion House is of great magnificence, the reception-rooms being deco- rated with regal splendour. The most celebrated are the Venetian Hall, the Grand Drawing- room, the Ball-room, and the Egyptian Hall. The last named, in which are served the splendid banquets, so dear to the City dignitaries, is the most beautiful and the most vast. Herein 400 persons can be accommodated with ease ; and on gala nights, wlien it is illuminated by the light of thousands of wax candles, the effect is dazzling in the extreme. A double row of columns sustain the vaulted and panelled GOG AXD MAGIIG. LORD MATOns CAEEIAGE. ceiling, and at each side in niches are groups and statuary by Foley, Calder-Marshall, Weekes, Durrant, and Lough. There is also a fine picture gallery. The public are not admitted to the Mansion House, but the visitor can see the Lord Mayor or one of the aldermen who sit in turns in the Police Court of the Mansion House itself, and to which everyone has access. It must be added that these worthy functionaries have only a very superficial acquaintance with the intricate laws of tlieir country. So the real magistrate is the chief clerk, whose duties consist in whispering decisions to the alderman, and in 40 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. discussing points of law with barristers and solicitors when matters assume a serious aspect. It is needless to add that the chief clerk is a practical lawyer. When it happens — unfortunately, very seldom — that there is no case to be heard, the alderman, when he arrives in court, is presented with a pair of white gloves by the chief clerk. This very ancient custom is always adhered to not only in the city, but in all English tribunals. The Bank of England is opposite to the Mansion House, and occupies all one side of the open space. It is a vast building, one story high, perfectly isolated, and bounded byfoui stieets As an cxtieme piecaution, the outei walls MANSION HOUSE. are pierced by no windows ; the offices are lighted from the roof, or from the nine inner courts, and garden. Nothing has been neglected to ensure the Bank against attack, and to guard against the risks from fii'e. At night a detachment of the Foot Guards, commanded by a captain, watches over the safety of "the old lady of Threadnecdle Street." During the day the watchmen of the company itself suffice to maintain order. A Scotchman, named Paterson, founded the Bank of England in 1G9I. Up to that time the business of banking was exclusively in the hands of the goldsmiths, wlio abused their monopoly. The capital of the Bank, which was originally =€1,200,000, is now tl l-,000,()00. In September, 1883, the Bank notes in circulation reached a total value of L 3 7,000,000, and the bullion kept in reserve amounts to t22,000,000. One must have an order signed by the directors to visit the bullion vaults. The gold is in ingots, of the value of €800 each, the silver in bars, and in bags of coin. The coiii|);uiy is composed of a governor, a dei)uty-govern(jr, and twenty-four THE CITV 41 directors, of whom eight retire annually, and are generally re-elected. The operations of the Bank arc conducted in the same manner as in financial establishments of tlic same kind in other countries. The Bank of England, moreover, is entrusted by the Treasury Mith the arrangements for the interest on the National Debt, Consols, Annuities, etc., and receives from the Government as payment for its services some- thing; over £.200,000. There arc nine branches of the Bank, situated at Manchester, EGVrTUy HALI. (M.iX.SIOX IIOCSE). Liverpool, Birmingham, Bristol, Leeds, Plymouth, Newcastle, Hull, and Portsmouth, as well as a branch office in the West End of London. The public are permitted to enter freely into the cashier's department, or where daily business is transacted ; but to penetrate into tlic otlicr parts, to see the printing of the bank-note.?, visitors must be accompanied by one of the directors, or furnished with a special permit, which is difficult to obtain. The printing press is a marvellous machine; the printing and numbering of the notes are performed, simultaneously, with perfect accuracy. Every note which is returned to the Bank is immediately cancelled. The Bank issues none but new notes, and thus can supply to the commercial worldj whose needs it knows exactly, the notes most in demand. Another curiosity is the automatic balance which weighs the gold and rejects at once any piece which does not attain the exact standard of weight. Ten of these machines weigh between them G0,000 pieces of gold daily. The business of banking possesses, in London and throughout all England, an 6 42 LONDON AND ]TS ENVIRONS. importance of wliicli one can form no adequate idea. The number of banks is Acry considerable. Besides the Banlc of England, there are numbers of private establishments and joint-stock banks of limited liability, in which latter the liability of the shareholders is limited to the nominal original value of the shares they hold. The principal joint-stock banks are the London and Westminster, the London and County, the Union; but there are many others. The most celebrated private banks arc Coutts', Childs', the Barclays', Glyn, ]\Iills', Bai'ing's, Hoare's, etc., and Rothschilds', of course. All these establishments, winch the public can enter, are extremely well conducted. The various opei'ations are carried on with an order and regularity, a precision and courtesy, an obliging manner, and an absence of useless formalities, which astonish and charm the stranger — above all, the Frenchman, who in his own country is not treated with such politeness by public bodies. It is casj^ to convince one's-self of this by going to cash a cheque in any bank — no matter which — in London. This is, besides, the most common act which everyone performs, for the ciieque plays an important part in English life. Anyone who keeps a banking account makes liis payments by cheques ; in business, naturally, it could not be otherwise. The number of these slips of paper is positively incalculable; so, to facilitate their work, the London bankers bethought them of the Clearing House. As it would be impossible for any bank to present all the cheques it receives on the various other banks, all the drafts pass through the Clearing House, where each house has an account, and the differences in amounts are adjusted by a single payment, by a cheque on the Bank of England. The total value of the cheques which passed through the Clearing House in 1882 reached the fabulous sum of si.x thousand, three hundred and eighty-two millions, six hundred and hfty-four thousand jjounds stei'ling ! "We may remark here that a cheque can always be refused, it not being a "legal tender." Ts it not then curious to observe that the commerce of England is based upon a system of the interchange of cheques? In 18G9 the figures of the Clearing House were only three thousand, six hundred and twenty-six millions of pounds sterling; and, such is the prodigious development of British commerce, that this sum had nearly doubled itself in thirteen years. Such vast amounts make one's brain reel, and we find it difficult to realize them. It needs little argument to prove that with such enormous transactions the fortunes made in business must be enormous ; so that some merchants enjoy an income as large as some small European states. We must remember that an English millionaire, according to the time-honoured phrase, is worth 25,000,000 francs. The number of these Crcesuses is large. At their head wc must place the bankers and the group of merchant princes who literally do not know in what way to use their wealth. Quitting the Bank of England, we find ourselves in front of the Royal Exchange^ a building in the Greco-Roman style, erected in 1841, after the designs of Mr. Tite. A Latin inscription informs us that it was built in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, and restored under Queen Victoria. Reconstructed would be more correct, for the old Exchange was completely destroyed by fire in 1S38. The fa9ade presents a portico, preceded by a flight of steps, and supported by eight Corinthian columns, above which is a pediment ornamented by allegorical figures bv Westmacott. The roof is suriounded bv THE CITY. 43 KOTAL EXCHANGE. a stone balustrade, which is surmounted by a clock-tower, 180 feet in height, in which is a set of chimes. Notwithstanding the trouble the architect took to conceal the chimneys, they appear out of keeping with the building, which is not suitable to the climate of London. The Exchange is entered by four doors. The principal entrance under the peristyle is surrounded by the Royal arms, sculptured by Carew. The interior of the Royal Exchange is simply a paved court of rectangular shape. In the centre is a marble statue of the Queen, by Lough, and all around is an arcade or cloister, the walls of which are ornamented with frescoes by Sang. It is here that the big-wigs of commerce and finance come every Tuesday and Friday, between three and four o'clock, to discuss and fix the rates, not of public stocks, but of merchandise and produce of all kinds. It is a curious custom for such soi-disant prac- tical people, who have the reputation of taking their ease, to come to talk over their business in the open air, in an un- sheltered place, open to all the winds of Heaven. But the old Exchange was an open place, and tradition demands that this shall be open too. As we have seen, the Royal Exchange is not the Bourse of London, in the sense in which we accept the term. The market for the public funds is in the Stock Exchange, of which we w ill speak later. Lloyd's Rooms are on the first floor of the Exchange. There the insurances on ships are effected ; and there underwriters, owners, and captains of merchant vessels meet. The agents of Lloyd's are scattered in all parts of the world, and keep themselves "posted up" in the arrivals and sailings of ships, as well as the accidents which befal them. There are belonging to the United Kingdom 25,000 vessels, of all classes (of which 5,000 are steamers), employed in the coasting and foreign trade, and repre- senting a tonnage of G,G00,000, and manned by 200,000 men. Tiie outgoings and incomings of this enormous fleet are the transactions Lloyd's have to follow up and register with a precision and exactitude which is incomparable. All the information transmitted by the agents whom the society employs, in more than 1,200 seaports, are entered in admirably-kept registers, and can be consulted at any moment by the members of Lloyd's. In the open space in front of the Royal Exchange the visitor will perceive a fountain, and a bronze equestrian statue of Wellington. Behind the building a statue of Peabody, the philanthropic American, who when he died left the poor of London £240,000, is a marvel of bad taste. The sculptor has represented the philanthropist seated with crossed legs in a truly ridiculous posture. Not far from this, in Capcl Court, is the Stock Exchange, or the Bourse. Contrary to the practice which obtains in France, the buying and selling operations in the public securities arc completed with closed doors by agents, who are called stockbrokers, who 44 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. form a numerous body-eight or nine hundred— and are governed by a committee consisting of thirty members, elected by the subscribers. To become a stockbroker one must be introduced by three members, who become guarantees for two years for the solvency of the candidate in a sum of .^300 each. In principle every member ought to be re-elected every year, but it need not be said that this is a simple formality. The transactions done daily on the Stock Ex- change may be estimated at hundreds of millions, and the house of Roths- child has been known to purchase four millions' worth of securities in oue afternoon. All these ojjerations are completed by a transfer, as nearly all kinds of stock and shares are represented by nominal certificates. In the slang of the Stock Exchange, those who operate for the rise are called bnlh, and those who operate for the fall are called hears. From many a spot in the City may be perceived a high column surmounted by a gigantic gilt bronze flame ; this was erected in 1671 - 77, after the designs of Sir Christopher Wren, to commemorate the Great Fire of 1666. So vivid is the recollection of this terrible disaster that no particular name has been bestowed upon the column. It is The ]\Ionu,ment — the xacmox'wA pur exci'llence. When one has said The Monu- ment, one has said everything. It is a column of the Doric order, fluted, 202 feet high from the l)asc to the summit of the flame, which from a distance resembles an enormous COAL EX[■HA^GE, THE CIT\". 45 shaving trush. The pedestal was executed by Gibber ; tlie four dragons were sculptured by E. Pierce. A staircase of black marble ascends spirally in the interior of the column and leads to a platform^ now covered by a cage to prevent suicides. It seems that this wise prccautiouj now elsewhere adopted in other columns of the kind, was rendered necessary by the number of unfortunate people who threw themselves from the summit in order to terminate their wretched lives. Those for whom existence has no longer any charms are now compelled to throw themselves into the Thames, and the list of those who are fished out of it every year is a long one. Of the old corporations which formerly monopolized various industries and manual trades some eighty still exist, but their privileges, having no locus standi, have been successively curtailed. A certain number of these bodies represent industries which have passed away, such as the Bowyers and the Barber-Surgeons. At the present time the majority of the members of these societies, or Companies, do not practise the 4 BANK or ENGLAiND SPECIMEN nr FIVE-POUND BANK-NOTE. profession indicated by their titles. One only, that of the Stationers, is exclusively composed of persons belonging to that l)ranch of commerce. These opulent Companies confine themselves to the management of tlieir immense estates, to sec to tlie prosperity of the pious foundations, the schools, and almshouses which from time to time they have erected or endowed ; and, above all things, to give feasts and banquets ! Ah ! those banquets ! how they come under our view every moment when we are writing about the City ! From time to time a man of mark in the political world, or a \actorious general, or a prince, is elected a member of one of these Companies. All the members of the Royal Family belong to one or other of these Companies, and God knows to what copious libations and festivities one of these memorable elections gives rise ! One of the last elections was that of Sir Beauchamp Seymour (now Ijord Alcester), wlio bombarded Alexandria in 1882, who was made a Cutler, first by telegraph, and afterwards by the traditional ceremonial in the beginning of 1883. There are scarcely a dozen Companies at present which possess Halls worthy of the name. Amongst these the ]\Iercers, the Grocers, the Fishmongers, and the Goldsmitlis 46 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. occupy the first rank. It "goes without saying" tliat the last-mentioned eclipses all the other Companies in point of luxury, from the richness of the plate exhibited on the sideboards, &c., on feast days. This Company controls and inspects all articles of gold or silver made in England. All tlic Companies possess pictures and statuary, representing in most cases celebrated per- sonages, members of corporations, or historical events. The Barber- Surgeons possess a grand picture by Holbein, the subject of -which is King Henry YIII. granting the charter to their Corporation. This canvas has been spoiled by the suc- cessive awkward attempts at re-touching, under which the original coloui-ing has almost disappeared. A portrait of Inigo Jones, by Van Dyck, is also in the same collection. It is easy to visit the Halls of the different Companies by presenting one's- self there, or by addressing a member, for strangers are in general very courteously received. Tlie revenues of the Companies are very large, and it is difficult to fix even approximately the figure, which must amount to a respectable number of millions. "We must not leave this portion of our subject without saying a few words concern- ing the general commercial character of I]ngland, and the resolute energy of the British merchant, the sureness of his glance, the fertility of his mind, and, above all, his perseverance. Accustomed to depend solely upon himself, the merchant, the English business man, or manufacturer, never per- mits himself to be discouraged. From his Government he demands only one thing — the liberty to manage his own affairs as he pleases, knowing tliat in general skilful poli- ticians are not good men of business. The commercial crisis which succeeded the prodigious development of trade in 1873, enables us to sec how the English people understand their own interests. In that year the returns of trade reached the then unprecedented figure of ■£682,000,000 sterHng —£371,000,000 of imports, and £311,000,000 of exports: merchandize only, remember. It was soon perceived that this extraordinary result was due to rash specu- lations, and, as a natural consequence, prices fell to such a degree that many people fancied such a condition of thin2:s could never be aijain reached — that business would not THE MONUMENT. 48 LONDON AND ITS KNVIRONS. recover, produce The situation was certainly grave. The markets were glutted with foreign English manufactures had become inferior, and the result was a commercial crisis. Far from being dis- couragcdj tliis depression of trade acted on the British manufacturers like a spur. They redoubled their energies, renewed their plant, and, liaving improved their pro- duce, beat their rivals with their own weapons ; so tliat iu ]SSn tlic returns of im- ports and exports were raised to-tGI)r,000,000,or more than £15,000,000 over the totals of 1873 ! It is this indomit- able energy, this tenacity, this confidence in himself, which gives the superiority to the British merchant. These are, liesides, national qualities which are met with in all professions. Here is an anecdote typi- cal of the subject : Some thirty yeai's ago two enter- prising young men started in business in the City together. After a while their small capital was exhausted, and their credit shaken by the suggestive rumours tiiat a financial paper thought fit to promulgate. Tiiat fact saved them. An action for libel was brought, and terminated in favour of the young men, who were awarded .€1,000 damages. As their cash-box was empty, one would imagine that they hastened to pay some of their debts with the money. Anyone who thinks so can have but little knowledge of the Englisli character. The day after the trial tlic Times announced that Messrs. X. Y. & Co. had given the .C1,000 to the London hospitals. A house that could afford to do this could not be in difficulties. Their credit was saved, that was all they wanted. To-dny these gentlemen are millionaires, and of world-wide reputation. DOOK OF SADDLERS HALL. THE CITi'. 49 VI. THE THAMES, AND THE PORT OF LONDON. — THE CUSTOM HOUSE. THE DOCKS. — ST. KATHERINe's and THE LONDON DOCKS. WAPPING. — THE THAMES TUNNEL. THE TOWER SUBWAY. If the monuments of the City fall below our preconceived ideas, its commercial institutions, on the other hand, surpass all that the imagination could have pictured. It is a newly discovered world— an unknown town into which we have penetrated, which resembles nothing we have ever known, of which we shall never see the like — for it is unique on the face of the earth. In fact, what other can be compared with it ? Where can we find another Thames — the " Silent Highway " — which puts it in communication with the Universe ? " All roads lead to Rome," says the proverb. London leads everywhere, retorts the Englishman, proud of his commercial supremacy, of his merchant marine, of his genius for bargaining, of his energetic and enterprising spirit. From London Bridge the prospect is superb. The River, two hundred and fifty yards wide, rolling its yellow and glittering waves along, is covered with vessels from all parts of the globe, and so packed, so pressed one against the other, that it is difficult for those going out or coming in to push their way through the crowd of boats of all kinds which dart across the narrow channel left in the centre of the stream. In front, as far as the eye can reach, extends a forest of masts, a network of cordage, a labyrinth of yards and rigging which seems inextricable : a lace of a thousand patterns, of which the threads are ropes and chain cables. Beside the heavy merchantmen — great ships which have come from the Indies or Australia — the large steamers of great speed, with their narrow beams and tapering sides, make a striking contrast. It is the racehorse compared with the powerful roadster. Light and rapid the .Greenwich steamers make their way amongst the heavier craft, leaving behind them a silver streak in the water, and in the air a trail of lilack smoke. All nations are represented below the bridge, if we may judge from the bunting displayed; but practised hands have no need to study the flags to pronounce upon the nationality of the stranger : a glance is sufficient to detect the signs imperceptible to the ordinary observer in the inclination of the masts, the cut of the sails, the " lines " of the hull, which, for the knowing ones, is as good as a certificate of birth and parentage. On the left are the Monument and the Billingsgate Fish Market, with its Italian campanile. Farther on is a great white building with colonnades — this is the Custom House. Farther down, still, the Tower ; then St. Katherine's Docks ; the London Docks situated above the famous tunnel of Brunei — the Thames Tunnel, now utilized by a railway company. On the right is busy Bermondsey, with its lofty chimneys, from which ascend clouds of smoke and steam, the smells of which mingle with the odours of the numerous 50 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. tanneries established on that side of the Thames; the Commercial Docks and the Surrey Docks are in the sharp curve which the river makes here. The continued rolling of the cabs, the sound of horses' hoofs on the stones, the puffing of many steam engines, the blows of heavy hammers, the grinding pulleys, the groaning capstans, and, above all, the voices of a million of men, unite in forming a loud roaring, which is like the roaring of the sea. The noise as of waves envelopes you ; you arc clasped in its shadowy embrace, and lulled to sleep ; the ear too rapidly struck by the multiplicity of sonorous vibrations. no longer transmits any sound. You are deafened; you feel the noise, but no ^~ longer hear it. The Port of London extends along the Thames for six and a-lialf miles. It is about that distance from London Bridge to the point called Bugsby's Hole ; but, as a matter of fact, the frequented portion of the river does not extend below Limehouse — or the portion of the river occupied b}' the East and West India Docks on one side, and by the Surrey Docks on the other. A'^essels of 800 tons come up as far as this; those of 1,400 tons cannot come above Blackwall ; but ships of any draught can get up as far as Woolwich. Tiic importance of the Port of London is so great that the Custom House employs 2,000 officers. The entries and clearances of vessels number 150 a day, or 50,000 a-year, and the duties levied by the Custom House amount to the sum of £10,000,000 sterling, which is almost half the sum paid by the whole of the United Kingdom. Liverpool — the famous port of Liverpool — only pays a sum of .€3,000,000 sterling annually in dues of all kinds, that is to say, only one-third of the amount paid for London dues— but as a place of export Liverpool is much more important than the metropolis. THE CITY. 51 The vafue of the merchandise imported to and exported from London is estimated at £05,000,000 sterling. Faitliful to the principles of free trade, the English impose duties only upon about twenty articles of consumption ; but, in fact, four articles only furnish the Revenue with £20,000,000 sterling: these are wine, tea, spirits, and tobacco. Coal, it is true, whether it arrives by land or by sea, pays a tax of thirteen pence per ton as City dues to the Corporation, whose revenues are estimated from this source at £170,000 sterling. Two millions of tons of eoal enter London annually, and it is said that 20,000 sailors are employed in the transport of the sea-borne coal. CUSTOM HOUSE. A visit to the Custom House will prove very interesting, if only to see the great hall, where a hundred clerks are employed in receiving the declarations of captains and shippers. For anyone gifted with perseverance, the Custom House holds in reserve an agreeable surprise — the Museum, in which the objects and articles that have been used for smuggling are exhibited. The fertility of the smuggler's imagination is positively unlimited. There is no apparently inofl'ensive article that has not been employed to conceal spirits, cigars, or tobacco. Sometimes it is a large folio volume, which conceals some dozens of cigars ; a crinoline, such as were worn formerly, the steels of which were so arranged as to I'cceive bladders filled with excellent brandy or sherry; sometimes ail oil-can with a false bottom, as used by conjurors, is detected: or even a loaf of bread, artistically hollowed out iintil nothing is left but the crust; in this receptacle a pound of tobacco is placed in lieu of the extracted " crumb." One must visit this collection 52 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. to understand to what extent the inventive minds of the smugglers will lead them, and to do justiee to the marvellous sagacity pf the Custom-IIouse otficers who have ferreted out these tricks, which would do credit to the Red Indians. From the extensive terrace that skirts the river, the visitor can enjoy an excellent view over the river and the port of London. It was here, as related, that the poet Cowpcr came, with the intention to commit suicide at the time of his great distress; ra II .<; ; "^ xK*' Twi ^ • ' - '^''~ ■ I I ■■ lir^^'n ■ b'i'irj ■^ffW'm wm ) : 2S Ml- hut the presence of a few workmen deterred him, and he returned quietly to his lodgings again. In one of Sardou's come- dies, a character in the play, who is supposed to have returned from Liverpool, ex- claims, cheerfully, " I never so well understood the greatness of England until I saw so much soap ! There is truth, and a good deal of truth, in this conceit. The Anglo-Saxon people, Avhom Napoleon spoke of, disdainfully, as " a nation of shop- keepei's," arc justly proud of this commercial ascendency, which makes them so strong. Tlicy arc proud of it ; they glory in it, and with good reason, since it has enahled them to triumph over their enemies in the past, and will again render them the same services should circumstances call for them. What would this same character in the comedy say if he could see the extensive London Docks, which cover a superficial area of 1,()()() acres; and of whicli docks one, and that l)y no means the largest, cmjiloys nearly .'5,000 men daily, oecujiied in loading and unloading the vessels THE CITY. 53 in the basins? Six of these docks are situated on the left bank, and two on tlie rio-ht bank of the river; and it is estimated that G,000 ships arc lying in the various London docks every day in the year. The work accomplished daily in these gigantic entrejwls is actually prodigious — prodigious, too, is the quantity of goods, of all kinds which they contain. St. Katherine's Docks, being the nearest to the business centres, 3 are for that reason those which the visitor most willingly see. They equally interesting as the thers, even if smaller; but, g organised and arranged superior manner, they give one a really exact idea of the way in which the load- ing, unloading, and storing of merchandise is carried on, A dock is composed of basins communicating with the river (in this case, the Thames), and is entered by sluice-gates, surrounded by quays, on which rise warehouses of many stoi'ies, which receive the merchandise destined for export, or which has been imported. In some docks there are no jetties, the vessels being moored close under the Avarehouses, so the merchandise is raised direct from the ship's hold to the storehouse. Immense cranes, worked by hydraulic pressure, lift the bales and cases to the desired floors, where the labourers seize them and stow them away, under the supervision of the clerks charged with their registration. The wliole proceeding is conducted in a very ti,.-.)c:r( LONDON DOCKS. 54 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. noiseless fashion and almost without speaking. Four or five clays are sufficient to unload a vessel of ],(JUO tons, and on special occasions, in times of pressure, the work is accomplished even more rapidly. It is on record that 1,100 barrels of tallow, each weighing nine or ten hundredweight, were unloaded iu seven hours. As it would be impossible to maintain a staff sufficient to perform this Herculean laboiu', the dock labourers are engaged by the day^ or even for the half day, according to need. So there is a miscellaneous and a strange-looking crowd every morning pressing around the dock- gates. Clerks out of place, workmen out of work^ ruined gentlemen, servants, old sailors, soldiers, beggars, pickpockets; in fact, all that rose that morning, without knowing where to turn for food, go to the docks, iu the hope of finding some work and bread ! This is the only place, perhaps, in the world at which one can present one's self without recommendation, and be admitted. Those who cannot obtain employ- ment in the morning wait in a court until the afternoon, when perhaps a fair Avind will bring up a tardy vessel, and enable them to gain the fourpence per hour which is paid to the unhappy wretches who are taken on late. Seated or lying ujjon the benches, emaciated, ragged, there are a hundred or two hundred men seeking for a problematical morsel of bread. A gate is opened; a man — the foreman — appears. He wants six men. The crowd rushes up; the first push themselves in. The gate is closed. A day without food ! And to think that every day there are hundreds, thousands, of human beings who have no other resource than labour at the docks ! Yes, it is there, indeed, that one sees the richness of England ; but it is there, too, that one sees the fearful misery, this leprosy, this plague-spot, this cankei', which is eating into it, and always increasing ! What a shadow upon the picture ! It is from the docks also that emigrants proceed to America, and, above all, Australia. Attracted by the announcements in the newspapers of the promises of ship- owners, what sufl'ering do they endure on these floating-boxes called ''emigrant ships," the most terrible means of torture ever invented. Legislation on the subject is very wise and paternal, but a number of unscrupulous ship-owners elude with much ingenuity the provisious of the law. Notwithstanding the supervision exercised by Government Inspectors, the regulations are cleverly violated, the cabins are crowded up, the food is insufficient when it is not absolutely unwholesome, and the vessel is in as bad a condition as is compatible with its keeping af.oat at all ! But, bah ! the passage money has been paid ; the vessel has been insured ; what does it matter whether it founders or whether it arrives at its destination ? In either case, there is nothing to fear, for the emigrants who disembark in the antipodes make no more claims than do those who lie at the bottom of the ocean. All types of humanity are represented in the docks, and one can make the tour of the world there without any trouble, and may hear every language under the sun, from English to Tartar-manchou. All the varying shades which the human skin is capable of displaying, show themselves here as in a kaleidoscope. The white Norwegian elbows the bronzed African ; the yellow Chinese, with his small eyes and long pig-tail; the thin and raw-boned Yankee, with his "goatee" ornamenting his chin; the Russian, the Lascar, the Malay, rush about elbowing each other, knocking against each other too; exchanging jests or fisticufl's. Sometimes a sudden gleam is seen, and then as THE CITY. 55 quickly disappears in the midst of a group of men. A knife lias been drawn; an almost sure indication of the presence of an Italian or a Spaniard. At the cries of the wounded man, the stalwart policeman leisurely advances, calm and dignified, collars the man with the knife, and hauls him off to the police station — not without difficulty, sometimes. In case of resistance, it is all the worse for the malcontent, who receives some ugly blows, and finds himself carried face downward to the station by four strong policemen, in a position in which it is impossible to struggle. This mode of conducting a refractory prisoner is known as the " Frog's March." Why ? The warehouses are full of bales, cases, and barrels. In the St. Katherine's Docks, 'I'^rra- the principal merchandise stored consists of tea, sugar, coffee, tobacco, grain, wool, and silk ; the total weight stored in these warehouses reaches 140,000 tons. As one passes from warehouse to warehouse, one experiences the whole "gamut of smells," known and unknown, which successively salute the olfactory nerves. The aroma of tea and coffee are mingled disagreeably with the emanations from a pile of freshly-stripped hides. Here pepper and tobacco assail your throat and eyes, and you cough and "sneeze your head off." Further on you slip on something sticky which you take for tar — it is cane-sugar, which is e.xudiug from the barrels yonder. A stalwart porter, carrying a package, sends you flying up against a wall, from which you return blue— not with fear, but with indigo ! It is all your own fault, you should have kept a better look out! One has no time to be polite in the docks. Business LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. is business; and if the sight-seer is admitted, it is on the understanding that he docs not interfere with the labourers. You have nothing to complain of; as for the men there, they speak but little, by monosyllables, no cries, oaths, laughter, or singing is heard, unless from the vessels where the sailors arc accompanying their work with the chants common to seamen of all nations. Here and there you will observe the watch- men or policemen, wearing the uniform of the Dock Company, which has its special police, walking about, watching carefully all that goes on; they ex- change a few words with each other and resume their patrol. Indifferent as they may appear, nothing es- capes them. Guardians of another species, but the use of which is evident, are the cats, of which there is quite an army in tho St. Kathcrine's Docks ; and the keep of these four-footed auxiliaries costs about C.^00 a year! The superficial area of these docks is about 21' acres, in- cluding the basins and warehouses. When they were about to Ijc erected (in 1827), it was found necessary to demolisli a liospital* and 1300 houses. The London Docks, separated from St. Kathcrine's by a narrow lane, are much the more extensive. Tlicir area is four times as great ; they arc, like the others, enclosed within walls, and include 4 basins, 21 wareiiouscs, 20 sheds, and 21 cellars. There are 3 sluice-gates from the river for the entry and exit of shipping. More than 300 vessels ST. I'AUL'.'j AXD THE THAMES ABOVE LONDON BRIDGE. * St. Kathcrine's Hospital is now situated in the Re.uent's Park. THE CITY. 57 can find room at a time, but it is seldom that so many are found there at once. These docks are the great emporiums for tea, tobacco, and particularly Australian wool ; 120,000 chests of tea can be warehoused there, and 180,000 pipes of wine. As for tobacco^ the quantity may be estimated from the fact tliat a whole basin and an immense storehouse, covering nearly 2^ acres of land, are exclusi\ely devoted to the reception of the plant, introduced into France by Nicot, and into England by Sir Walter Raleigh. To visit the cellars it is necessary to be furnished with a special permit, called a "tasting order," which entitles the visitor to taste the wines stored there. Accompanied by a cellar-man the visitor may, supposing his head and his legs are sufficiently strong, NATIVES OF WAPPING. pronounce upon all the vintages in the world — from Bordeaux to Australian Mines, fi-om those of the Rhine to South Africa. Tliis experiment, from which very few people emerge unscathed, is not within the reach of cvcryl)ody. Nevertheless, the number of people who are met with staggering about, having evidently considerable difficultv to [)rescrve their equilibrium, proves that it is by no means a difficult matter to procure a " tasting order." The losses generally attributed to the bad condition of the casks are considerable. In the year 187i the quantity of wine which crajjoratcd amounted to 20,000 bottles ! The Wool Warehouses arc the most extensive in London. The telephone and the telegraph put them in communication with the market, and with the houses of the princi[)al brokers. These storehouses form a separate portion of the Docks, and are connected with all the lines of railway, and with the Victoria Docks lower down the river. In 1SG2 there had been put up for sale by these Docks alone 92,000 bales of wool. In 1881 the sales reached nearly 400,000 bales, or one-thii-d of all tlic avooI sold in London. The length of the laiuliug-quays is about 5,000 yards. In tlie London Docks we 8 58 LONDOX AND ITS EXVIRO.VS. find tlie Queen's Pipe, wliich is an immense furnace of cylindrical form with a high chimney, from which escape clouds of smoke of a very persistent odour. lu this "pipe" is consumed all the merchaudise which has not paid duty, and which cannot be sold owino- to its bad condition. From one year to another the Queen's Pipe smokes away a most heterogeneous collection of articles — tobacco, hams, coffee, tea, gloves (13,000 pairs at one time), all are thrown in and burned; and as nothing is wasted, the ashes are sold bv auction to gai'deuers, who make an excellent manure of it, or to soap-boilers and chemical works. The old iron is put aside for tlie gun factories, and commands a hin-h price for gun- barrels. It seems that this iron is of extraordinary toughness, and will stand an enornnuis pressure without bursting. A STREET IN W.\PP1NG. The London and the St. Katherine's Docks belong to the same company, and fabulous profits are realized every year. The streets which surround the Docks, and in which it is scarcely prudent to venture in the evening — or, at times, by day — are some of the most strange and curious in the meti'opolis. Narrow and dirty, they are lined with low houses — hovels, the inhabitants of which, especially the females, defy description. The women, unkempt, tipsy, bear upon their countenances the marks of the most horrible debauchery and the most revolting vices. Wearing bonnets picked up in the streets, covered with dirty rags, but rags of staring colours, red sh;i\vls, dresses of violet or vivid green, with a bold, insolent air they go about in groups, laughing coarsely at sonic gross joke, or at some obscene remark cast at a passer-by. Brawls are of f"n'(|uent occurrence betweeir these females, and leave on their faces incd'aceable traces of the encounter. Of ten of these creatures there will be surely fnund six who have had an eye blackened, a lip split, or an ear torn off. THE CITY. 5!) As for the men, worthy companions of such harpies, they offer a spectacle of the most repulsive drunkenness and hideous depravity, ('allot has never dreamed of any more atrociously cynical, more nakedly horrible, more audaciously criminal, than tlie hang-dog faces of these " roughs," who, were it not for the wholesome fear of the police and the "cat," would strangle you like a fowl and rob you. It is true that they have no hesitation in robbing you. So it is as well to leave your watch and purse behind you when visiting such places. The only shops which one meets are those of pawnbrokers and public houses — the alpha and omega of Wapping existence — the place where you can obtain money, and the place where you can spend it. The number of these establishments evidences the flourishing condition of these honest traders. Evei'y sailor who lands after a voyage with well-filled pockets, immediately becomes the prey of one of those tei'rible women whose seductions are for hinx irresistible. Dragged first of all into a gin shop, copious " drinks " soon deprive him of his senses ; and after a tete-u- tete with the syren in tatters, our sailor wakes up in a corner stupefied, rendered incapable by drink and excesses, his pockets and his head alike vacant. To diminish these occurrences as much as possible, and, at the same time, to protect the sailor himself from the lodging house harpies of the district, a Sailors' Home has been founded, where the men are comfortably lodged and fed at a moderate sum, and protected from the pernicious influences of tlie "Mollies" and other nymphs of Wapping. It is in this direction that we find the Thames Tunnel, planned and executed by Brunei. It was commenced in 1825, and finished eighteen years after in 1843; tremendous difficulties had to be encountered and overcome. .£12,000,000 sterling were spent in this ruinous enterprise, which never lias returned a penny to the unfortunate shareholders. The Thames Tunnel was in a ruinous condition when, in 1865, it was purchased for j8200,0O0 by the East London Railway, which now runs its trains through it and brings them into direct communication with the lines north and south of London, below London Bridge (at New Cross). The Thames Tunnel is 1,200 feet long, and the top of the arch is only IG feet below the bed of the river. In 1870 another communication by a sub-fluvial passage (for pedestrians) was opened by the Tower Gates. The Tower Subway is simply an iron tube seven feet in diameter, TOWER SUBWAY. 60 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. and 1,300 feet in length, lighted by gas, in which two men can just walk abreast. IIow- evei'j as there is no othci- way of traversing the stream without making a very considerable detour, this somewhat inconvenient passage is much used, particularly by working-men wlio are proceeding to or from tlieir work. It is estimated that about three thousand people pass througli the Tower Subway every day. VII. THE PUBLIC OFFICES. THE POSTAL AND TELEGRAPH DEPARTMENTS. — THE MINT. — THE TRINITY HOUSE. The General Post-office, the head of which — the Postmaster- General — is one of the Ministry, is the only one of the great departments of the State which is located in the f!ity, where its place in the centre of the business quarter is naturally defined. It is situated in St. Martin's-le- Graud, near St. Paul's, and consists of two extensive buildings specially erected for the piirposc — one in 1829, the other in 1873. The former is devoted to the ])ostal business, the latter to the telegraph administration. The older building, designed by Sir R. Smirke, presents the eternal Grecian fa9ade with columns, which is found everywhere, whether in E.Kchange or Bank, Custom House or Church. The interior is perfectly arranged. The public enters a vast hall 80 feet by GO, where are wickets for the various kinds of business. The simplicity of the forms to be gone through, and the THE CITY. (il rapidity with which they arc attended to, are really admirable. The officials endeavour to expedite business by all means in their powci-, and they succeed in their aim. The SPECIMENS OK I'OSTAUE STAMPS. clerks, courteou.?, obliging, correct, and quite "up to the mark," are particularly complaisant, and seem fully alive to the truth, so long in making its way in France —that the Post-Office was invented for the public, and not the public for the Post. The work done here is immense. In 1882, the number of letters posted was more than 1,000 millions; while the post-cards reached a total of 144. millions; newspapers and book packets, 318 millions. The transmission of letters and telegrams in London 62 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. bUVEllKIGN. is achieved with marvellous rapidity. Thus it is possible to write to a friend in the morning, receive an answer, and to send a reply to that answer, which will be delivered the same day — making three letters exchanged between two persons in twehe lionrs; and this, too, within the radius of twelve miles from the head office. So complete are the postal arrangements, that there is not a honse more than two hundred yards from a letter-box, or four hundred from a post-office and money-order office. There are 9,700 pillar-boxes, which are cleared every hour, from ten o'clock in the morning, until five in the evening ; there are twelve deliveries in the City, and eleven in other places. On Sundays, London is less well off than some other towns in England — tiiere is no delivery of letters in London that day, while in the provinces there is a morning delivery on Sunday. Why is the Londoner deprived of his correspondence one day in the week, wliile the provincial receives his ? This is one of those unsolvable mysteries with which one is continually meeting in this land of contrasts and anomalies. The telegraph administration, situated opposite the postal department, is accommo- dated in an immense building of four storeys, without any claims to architectural beauty, but arranged in a manner eminently suited to the requirements of business. Under- ground are the electric "piles" and pneu- matic tubes, serving for transmission of tele- grams, and the steam engines. The offices are on the first floor, and the upper storeys are exclusively used for the receipt and trans- mission of telegrams. The journalistic and private wires are on the second floor, the ordinary telegrams on the third. Five hundred instruments are working night and day, and occupy 1,500 employes, of whom two-thirds belong to the fair sex. The sterner sex is chiefly entrusted witli the night work, and the transmission of foreign telegrams, which arc confided to a special staft". The number of wires radiating from the Ceutral office is prodigious. Liverpool alone has twenty. The Ministers, the Houses of Parliament, the Palace, the private residences of the great functionaries of State, and some otlier grandees have special wires, and an employe is always attached to the Queen's suite in all her travels. The total length of the telegraphic wires is about 126,000 miles, and the number of telegrams exceed 32 millions a year. The Post-office is also entrusted with the savings bank business, of which the deposits have reached to the enormous total of £30,000,000. The revenue of this department, which comprises 13,000 offices for postal and telegraph business throughout the Kingdom, and employs more than 27,000 persons, is .t;8jG10,000 per annum. The profits, according to a recent statemcl^t of the Post- master-General in Parliament, are, in round numbers, £3,000,000 sterling. The Mint is also in the City near the Tower of London. To visit it one must be furnished with an order from the ]\Iaster of the INIint, the Chanrcllor of the Exchequer, HALF-CROWN PIECE. THE CITY. 63 -J. TELEGRAPH OtTICE. who is very chary of his permits. The ]\Iint was formerly in the Tower; it is only since 1811 that the work-shops have been moved to their present site. Since the discovery of gold in Australia, and the importation of this precious .-■, -; ' '- ■• . metal, the Mint has issued an enormous quantity of coin. In ten years it has coined 44 millions of sovereigns, 16 millions of half-sovereigns, 14 millions of florins, 43 millions of shillings, and about 48 millions of sixpenny, four- penny, and threepenny pieces. During the same period, only 80,000 half- crowns have been struck off. The sovereigns and half- sovereigns only arc gold — the otliers arc all silver coins. The bronze coinage is not struck in the ]\Iint — it is made in Birmingham by private firms working on Government account. The face of " Britannia" upon the reverse of the penny pieces is the likeness of the celebrated Duchess of Richmond, " the beautiful Stewart " who inspired Charles II. with such a violent pas- sion. That monarch caused a medal to be struck in her honour, and from that medal the die was made for the bronze coinage. The Trinity House, a most unpreten- tious building which we come upon in the square of the same name, is the head- quarters of the Board charged with the inspection of the light-houses and light-ships, and the appointment of pilots. The council-room is decorated with busts of the most illustrious English seamen, and a picture by Gainsborough represents the members of the (then) Board on an enormous canvas twenty feet long. Tlie President of the ^^ POST OFFICE TELEGRAPHS. Pr^r.V Cn«Jc (Inlrii.J 'I't-l.-ura.n- ) So r.[ M,.-.-. f. For Postage Stamps. UUice Hi UimiQ jnd Ser»n-f lu.-it.nLoii^. Words. Seul Tilt ■'Hampi mi-t I, „^i.J l,t fi,, .^.,„■, ., T,, '"'""'''' J K-cr.pi /o' t\, Clsft, -1, iL, T.hjtaA 12 6° Till* Name .lA Address .•! t\:! Sender, .t oiilift ...i iI.liu. ./ (. l.f ifUii"iph(,l. iw,n W wtiUmi i\\ tb.- lind of ifii- Mi-swBc ; it U'A lo be K-legrupIifd, ihtj abuuld bt wriittu ib ihe 5j)..v.f piwwidcd al ilie Uadi of the Form. adliiivD- h Ererj ' for. »b»iber «t text. . NOTICE.— This Teltfi'^m w>ll be -icrrpti-d lor ti^nsnii^iuo subject W tbo Kt;;Tu!.itioQ3 reade purEuanl to Ilic 3t:d Section oi (be Telegraph Act. 1685. aod lo the Notice print<.-d at the back hereof. (m.hr.son *mo soN>,_p-wi.fc lsnomJ TELEGUAPH FORM. 64 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. Board is generally au illustrious personage ; the office of Master is, at present, filled by U.K. 11. the Duke of Edinburgh. VIII. THE PROVISION SUPPLIES. — STATISTICS. — THE MARKETS. — S:\IITin''IELD, BILLINGSGATE, fOPENIIAiEN FIELDS MARKET, DEFTFORD MARKET, COVENT (lAUl)EN IMARKET. 01'i:X-AlR JIAKKETS. — THE BARONESS BURDETT - COUTTS AND COLU.MIilA MAKUET. London does not possess, as Paris does, central markets where any one may go and purchase his daily supplies of food. In the first place, the difficulty would be to find a space sufficiently large to store tlie various commodities necessary to the sustenance of such a populous city, and, had it been fduiul.thc cnoiMuous distances which would have to be traversed in order to rcacli a central point, would render such "Halles" impossible in London. The system, besides, is repugnant to English notions : the regulations, the official intervention, the " red tri])c-ism," the officialism, are all objec- tionable to the Britisher, and the problem how to feed nearly five miUious of inhabitants every day — that is to say, a population two-and-a-half times greater than that of Paris ■ — has always been left to the initiative of private individuals, who have solved it in a most satishictory manner. The (piantity of food that London absorbs is something fabulous ; all the world contributes to satisfy the appetite of this gigantic city. Gei-many, Holland, the United States, and Australia send meat; France supplies wine, poultry, and eggs — of which a prodigious quantity is consumed — and vegetables ; Italy and Spain send fruits, wines, and vegetal)les ; China, India, and America, tea, coflPec, sugar, exotic fruits, pine-apples, bananas, and so on — which are as common in the streets of London at certain seasons as apples and chestnuts are in Paris, and are sold at "surprisingly low prices," as the lincndrapers say in their announcements. Would the reader like to see what the capital of the United Kingdom consumes annually in the way of food ? Well then, here are a few statistics : — 400,000 oxen, 2,000,000 sheep, 130,000 calves, 250,000 pigs — and all these, of course, without reckoning salted meats, imported " tinned " or " barrelled " comestibles. And the poultry ! — 4,000,000 fowls, ducks, geese, and turkeys; al)out as much game, and 1,300,000 rabl)its ! Fish, about uliieh the English arc very dainty, i)lays a considerable part in the alimentation of the capital, which swallows in one year 3,000,000 salmon, 500,000,000 oysters, and 1,200,000 lobsters, with, of course, enormous supplies of soles, turbot, cod, herrings, whitebait, mackerel, and other sorts of fish, salted and dried, with shell fish of various kinds, and Crustacea. What an accumulation of victuals ! But also what a robust a])petitc, and what an all-pcrv;uling thirst c\ist ! To wash down this (puintitv of food London consumes THE CITY. 65 3,000j000 barrels of beer, 3,200,000 gallons of spirits, 70,000 pipes of wine, and the milk of 20,000 cows. This enormous quantity of liquid is supplied by 12,000 tavern- keepers and wine-merchants, while there are only 2,500 bakers in the whole metropolis. All the comestibles reach the public through the markets, which are vast depots situated for the most part in the City, and on the banks of the Thames, whither every morning come the retailers to purchase the supplies which they afterwards sell to their customers. The market for meat and poultry — the Central London Meat Market — is situated in Smithfield, and is an enormous square brick and stone building, 600 feet in length by 240 wide. It is flanked by four towers, each surmounted by an octagon dome. The roof is of iron and glass, supported by ex- tremely light cast-iron columns. A passage runs through the centre of the market. It is crossed at right angles by transversal alleys lined with shops. There are about two hundred of these shops, which are extremely well arranged, and in which the ventilation is so perfect that the tern- perature is always five degrees lower than the atmosphere outside ra the shade. Planned like a theatre, this market is more curious underground than on the surface. The floors under the stage, to continue the comparison, are occupied in their entirety by a railway station, where half-a-dozen different lines unite, and put the market in direct communication with the provinces, with Scotland, which supplies a quantity of beef and mutton, and with the cattle markets of Deptford and Copenhagen Fields. The meat thus brought to the ceUars of the market is raised by a dozen 66 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. hydraulic lifts, and distributed to the salesmen, who retail it to the butchers. In the early morning, between two and five o'cloek, the eonsiguments arrive; at the latter hour the inspectors have finished their examination, and then the sales commence. It is estimated that 200,000 tons weight of food is sold in Smithfield in the year. It is at Billingsgate -ilarket, one side of which looks on the Thames, and the other on Thames Street, that the fish consumed in the metropolis is sold. The boats bring the fish right up to the market always at night, a proceeding not without danger, especially in the winter. Immediately the fish is disembarked, it is sold to the retail fishmongers ; and, as soon as they have carried away their purchases, the brokers, called " bomarees, '^ arrive, who carry away the remainder, leaving only the refuse. To these "bomarees," who have virtually the monopoly, the small retailers are obliged to address themselves, and are compelled to pay relatively high prices. The consequence is that fish, which ought to be procured at a reasonable rate, is excessively dear. Quite diflerent, but much more interesting, is the Flower and Fruit Market in Covent Garden, near the theatre of that name and the Strand, outside the limits of the City. The actual market was built in 1830, and belongs to the Duke of Bedford, who draws from it a yearly income of more than £G,000. The central arcade is occupied by florists and fruiterers, who sell rare and early specimens of their Avares. From ten iu the morning until four in the afternoon, a well-dressed crowd occupies this avenue, for English ladies take great delight in going to Covent Garden to purchase flowers, which they take away with them iu their carriages. The scene is then charming, animated, and most picturesque. The bright hues of the spring costumes mingle with the tones of the fresh and brilliant colours of the flowers. The air, perfumed by a thousand scents, resounds with the silvery laughter of young ladies, or the merry chatter of the rosy, " chubby " children, who are carrying a sweet- smelling harvest of flowers. The common fruits and herbs occupy the other galleries, which are curious to behold in the early morning. At seven o'clock the bustle is over, and the market and surrounding streets are given over to the sweepers. Almost all the fruiterers and florists of London are of the Jewish sect, and this is a peculiarity which strikes one at first sight ; for the children of Israel have preserved the national type in all its purity ; some of the women are of almost Oriental beauty. Like all their co-religionists, they have an immoderate love for jewellery and diamonds; so it is by no means an uncommon sight, when jjassing through the neighbouring streets, where the shops are nearly all occupied by wholesale dealers, to see the women in silk dresses, hats and feathers, with diamoruls in their ears or on their fingers, weighing out potatoes or wrapping up oranges. To see the real people's markets, one must not go to Smithfield or to Covent Garden; we must visit certain streets in the poorest quarters. There, under no other canopy but the sky, or rather the clouds, these open-air markets are held by tacit arrangement with the police. All along the side of the pavement stands a file of barrows — small vehicles laden with the most varied and the most unappetising viands. Ou Saturday night, in winter time, when the streets are enveloped in fog, these movable markets, lighted by petroleum lamps, whose long flames are blown about by the wind, have, to a distant spectator, the efiect of a fire. The ruddy glow, indistinct THE CITY. 67 and vacillating — the cries of tlie vendors and the murmurs of the crowd — all add to the illusion. Around these barrows press pale and ragged women, whose deep, sunken ej'es and emaciated countenances take strange tones imder the flaring light of the petroleum. Upon these weary faces Want has left ineffaceable marks, wherein one can read profound misery, the greatest desti- tution — famine! Their feet in the greasy, slippeiy mud — the amalgam of unmention- able tilings which one never finds but in the streets of London — are shod with strips d leather; and they go oiit thus to purchase the Sunday's dinner, often the only meat meal of be whole week. In the folds of the shawl there a shapeless bundle, which occasionally emits a cry : it is an infant ! The vendors, cunning and crafty, vaunt their merchandise, tout, and allure the customer ; they are obsequious if she permits herself to be tempted, insolent in the contrary case, and ci'uelly abusive to the poorest and the shamefaced. Why be civil to them ? They have no money ! One may often remark this trait in the English character : the exaggerated respect for anyone who seems to have money in his pocket, the most profound disdain for those whose purses are, or appear to be, empty ! They sell all kinds of things in these open-air markets — meat, cakes — such cakes ! — clothing, fruits, boots and shoes, hats, ribbons, flowers. There is a good 68 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. business done in these last-named productions, as well as in brass jewellery, in tin or pewter, a penny a set — ear-rings, brooch, and ring. The young workgirl, the third- rate servant, never goes liome on Saturday night without having purchased something in the way of ornament. She has no shoes or linen perhaps, but she must have a feather in her hat ; her dress is in rags, but she mounts a ribbon of vivid hue and wears gloves. There is another thing to be remarked. No one has ever succeeded in establishing a proper market — a well-conducted market — in workmen's quarters. Many attempts have been made with this end, but always unsuccessfully. In 1869, Baroness Burdctt- Coutts, a lady well known for her inexhaustible wealth, and the noble uses to which she has applied it, caused an excellent market to be established in Bethnal Green, which cost her £200,000. No one ever went into it. The buyers and sellers preferred the street. Thinking to do good, Lady Burdctt-Coutts made a gift of Columbia Market to the Corporation of London, who did not turn it to any better account, and, as a last resource, returned the market to its noble proprietor. Columbia ]\Iarket is always "to let." So the same fact is continually recurring. No new " people's " market can be established in London ! BILLINQSOAIE MARKET. M 111! B— .■: - " M,: ■''ii'i'j'^yjf'i'-iv Im K#^ir^ ^^.^^^ OXFORD STREET CHAPTER THE SECOND -THE WEST-END. THE DIFFERENT QUARTERS. — THE STRAND, AND THE ACTORS.— LINCOLN S INN FIELDS, AND THE LAWYERS. THE WEST-END. INDUSTRIAL LONDON. The different quarters of London have each a weU-marked individuality, and indicate by their appearance the profession of those who frequent them. To tlie cast of Trafalgar Square, extending as far as the City boundary, is the Strand, dotted on each side with many theatres, which is in the evening an animated and noisy street, and with its perspective of lighted gas, recals, in a measure, the old Boulevard du Temple in Paris. Out of it, hard by, are Covent Garden, and the Opera House; Drury Lane and its celebrated Theatre, where grand spectacular pieces have usurped the legitimate drama : where Garrick, Kean, Macready, and Mrs. Siddons have been succeeded by the third- rate actors, the l)allct girls, the supernumeraries, and the clown. In the neighbouring streets, too, there are scarce any but theatrical hair-dressers, costumiers, and librarians. One jostles with a special class of people. Men with shaven 70 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. chins, pale and weary faces, chat in groups in the tones and postures peculiar to theatrical people ; women daintily tripping along, a roll of paper or book in hand, run to rehearsal, with a saucy air, a bold look, and a suggestive demeanour. Here, recognizable by their costume, their manner of walking, and their high-pitched voices, are the Italian choristers, whose volubility of speech, and vivacity of gesture, contrast with the short speeches and the stiff heavy manner of the Englishmen. Further west, in the precincts of Lincoln's Inu Fields, are to be seen individuals in ENTRANCE TO LINCOLN'S INN (CHANCERY LANE). white wdgs (clothed in long black robes which cover, but do not conceal their coats and trousers) carrying briefs through the streets. These gentlemen arc " barristers," who have been located in this quarter from time immemorial ; they are proceeding from their chambers to the Law Covirts adjacent. On the other side of Holbom is Bloomsbury. Here are few shops and little noise : long streets and spacious squares, in which the passers-by, comparatively few in number, arc to be met laden with papers and books ; men, and women too, proceeding to the great building enclosed by a high railing — the British Museum. This is the district for 1%: II III 1. Sll'Mll! iifi -ij.'?^\ 72 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. literary and scientific men and students who read at the museum, or go through the curriculum of University College, or of the North Loudon Hospital. Tlience, to the West End — that is to say, to the most elegant shops, and to the streets and squares inhahited by the rich — is but a step. All the world kuows the names of the two principal thoroughfares in which is centralized all the "luxury of trade" of the British Metropolis — Oxford Street and Regent Street. The former, under different names, extends almost in a straight line from the City to Netting Hill ; the latter, which bisects it, has, for its extreme points, Trafalgar Square in the south, and ENTRANCE TO LINCOLN'S INN (LINCOLN'S INN FIELDS). the Regent's Park iu the nortli ; in the angle they make is found the West End properly so called. Both of thcui, lined throughout the length with luxurious emporiums, whose windows are rather too ero\^ded for good taste, offer one of the most picturesque sights imaginable. On tlie wide pavements an elegant and leisurely crowd lounges, stopping every moment before some jeweller's, milliner's, or drapery establishment. The men, somewhat stiff, but of a stiffness devoid of haughtiness, would be models of elegance were it not that the colours of their neck-ties are somewhat too accentuated. Tlie ladies, clad in fur, silk, velvet, or satin, are THE WEST-END. 73 dressed ia the latest fashion ; but there is invariably something which is not in harmony with the general effect: a too pronounced hat, some "loud" colour, or gloves of too bright a shade. Almost all are dressed in the same style like a uniform. One can see that the dressmaker rules them despotically, that they purchase their elegance ready made, without giving it the stamp of personality, or of individual taste, lacking which, a woman is never well dressed. If one may credit the costumes, there are no old women in England; and it is pitiable to see respectable grandmothers and dignified matrons dressed like young gii-ls in bright colours and " poke " bonnets. -=^- i 1^: ft." [ I UOLBOKN VIADUCT. The streets are crowded with carriages emblazoned with crests and coats of arms, drawn by splendid horses, and driven by coachmen of irreproachable style and " turn out.'^ Where do the English obtain this unique race of servants of all classes which one sees in no other country ? As a contrast to all this luxury, all this elegance, and all these liveries, the side-walks are dotted with " sandwich-men," who file along between two placards, one behind, one in front, human waifs and strays who have reached the lowest step on the social ladder, and who, for a shilling a day, walk about for ten hours in rain and sunshine. Some, dressed so as to suggest the title of some tlieatrical piece, promenade gravely in black cloaks and Spanish sombreros — these are the announce- ments of the "Mantcaux Noirs," a comic opera, founded on "Giralda;" others are clothed iu prison-garb, and led by a gaoler in uniform — these arc the advertisers of "Fourteen Days ; " others again are children clad iu yellow to represent the " Yellow Dwarf," then 10 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. being played at the Alhambra. It is impossible to carry realism further thaa this ! At many street corners, you will encounter a poor wretch, broom in hand, who sweeps a clean space across the roadway, so that passers-by may cross without soiling their boots. Kneeling by the iron street posts are little fellows, clad in red serge tunics, offering their services — brush in hand. These are the boys of the Shoeblack Brigade, otherwise " Shoeblacks." A chorus of deafening cries resounds on all sides ; it is a terrible hubbub, in which the street vendors take their parts ; little flower-girls, clad in rags, but wearing hats and feathers; beggai's selling matches as an excuse for mendicity, three-parts naked under their filthy rags ; newspaper-sellers, crying at the tops of their voices the special edition of the Globe or Echo, pursue the passers-by ; and each vies to be the loudest. Perched upon the footboards of their vehicles, the omnibus conductors, who are endowed with the voices of Stentors, shout out their destinations and the price of the ride. Overbearing all, a " piano- organ," played by two Italians dressed in native costume, throws a note of music into the chorus and a bit of colour into the picture, the prevailing tint of which is a particular shade of cloudy grey. There are very few soldiers in the crowd, but here and there one catches sight of a gigantic Life-Guardsman in his scarlet jacket, mounted on a pair of stilt-like legs, his hair well greased, his forage cap set jauntily on the side of his head, stalk- ing along with the air of a conqueror, swinging the light cane — without which no British soldier would venture to appear in the streets ; or again, perhaps we may espy a Highlander in a kilt, with naked knees— a sight which causes uurses and street boys to turn round and stare — who apparently has no fear that some unlucky gust of wind will cause him to offend the modesty of the pretty young promenadcrs. A very curious type is the "masher." The "masher" is a young "swell" of a very pronounced style and of a peculiar species. He wears a cut-away coat, buttoned high up to a coachman's tie, and decorated almost to his chin with a bouquet of bright flowers. His lower limbs are in outrageously tight trousers, his feet in boots pointed like needles and lustrous as the sun in heaven. He carries in his right eye a glass, which troubles him terribly to see through, and causes him to make an ugly grimace. This appearance is topped by a hat with wide and uprising brim. The supreme THK W KST-EN D. 75 happiness of this creature is to walk along with his elbows stuck out like a vase with *. . 1 '.•\ ' ■'-■%» u . J^ .'-■ :^M 1. wm'^^'imWmM"' m »fe- •'" ST. patl's (from ia-dgate hill). two handles, and to hold a cane with the handle downwards. The "masher" is a remarkably clumsy being, and fancies himself a " Phoenix." In the evening he goes 76 LONDON" AND ITS ENVIRONS. to the theatre where burlesques are played — sports a dress-coat, and makes himseli conspicuous by his "bad form" and his air of deplorable aifectatiou. In holiday time we encounter boys draped in a long blue tunic, which falls to their heels, kuee breeches, and bright yellow worsted stockings, white bauds, a leathern strap girdle, and shoes with buckles — a costume of the Middle Ages, imposed on the pupils of Christ's Hospital by the founder. The head-dress is so clumsy that no one has dared to force them to wear it ; and, as no other has been devised, the simple plan of letting the lads go without any head-covering has been adopted. As one advances westwards, after passing Bond Street, the shops begin to get fewer, and private houses take their places. The squares and the streets present a cold and severe ap- pearance, which is not without a certain dignity. There are few pedestrians in this neighbourhood, where vehicles abound, and which is not ani- mated except during the three summer months, which include what is termed the "Season" in London. At that period there is a hurrying to and fro, a never-ceasing movement ; balls and evening parties succeed each other incessantly for ten weeks and finish suddenly about the 20th to the 25th of July. After the latter date, anyone who claims to be in " the world " must have left London, under penalty of losing the consideration which attaches to those who move in society, if he do not. This " Society " — that is to say, all those people who have a name, a title, or official posi- tion—is located in the neighbourhood of Hyde Park, and can be circumscribed within a mile radius, taking the bridge over the Serpentine as a centre. Beyond this inner circle other con- centric zones extend, losing their aristocratic character accordingly as they become more distant, just as circles in the water extend and disappear after a stone has been thrown into a pond. The official world — Parliament, the Minister's — have monopolized the ancient city of Westminster, the portion of the metropolis comprised between St. James's Park and tlio Thames, on the bank of which river stand the Houses of Parliament, flanked by two lofty towers. If wc now cross to the i-ight bank of the river, we shall find ourselves in a town as different from the two already mentioned as if they were a tliousand leagues away. The line quays arc replaced by warehouses, and the heavy craft moored at the basements of LIFt-UCAKDSMAN. THE WEST-END. 7,7 these store-houses await their freights to carry them down stream beyond London Bridge, where they will be trans-shipped into some of the numerous vessels lying in the Pool. No monuments here ! no stately mansions ! — but high chimneys of work- shops and manufactories. On this side of the river we meet, beginniu"- at the east end Bermondseyj with its tanneries and hide market ; then the Borough ; then Southwark in which we find the famous Barclay and Perkins' Brewery, one of the curiosities of London, and the Hop Exchange; then Lambeth, the great district of workshops, wherein they make machinery as in Leeds, and pottery as in Staflbrdshire. In the midst of this populous quarter is one palace, that of the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Primate of England, standing in a large park. On this side of the water, also, we find the Roman (Catholic Cathedral of St. George. j\Iore to the southward, again, are the outlying districts of Camberwell, Brixton, and Wandsworth, inhabited in a great measure by middle-class householders and clerks, as the modest houses which line the almost interminable roads testify. II. THE PALACES : BUCKINGHAM PALACE, ST. JAMEs's PALACE, MARLBOROUGH HOUSE, KENSINGTON PALACE. WHITEHALL. — THE HOUSES OF PARLIAMENT. WESTMINSTER HALL. THE HOUSE OF LORDS. — LA REYNE LE VEULT. LORD CHATHAM.-— THE HOUSE OF COMMONS. THE SPEAKER. HER AIAJESTY's OPPOSITION. — THE CONSTITUTION. THE MINISTRY. THE NAVY. THE ARiMY. SOMERSET HOUSE. The word palace implies an idea of luxury, magnificence and splendour — attributes which are absolutely deficient in the three Royal residences in London. For this reason, perhaps, they are deserted by the Queen of England, who only makes short and rare visits to her capital, preferring to live at the beautiful castle of Windsor, or at the more unassuming and agreeable residences at Osborne, in the Isle of Wight, and Balmoral, in Scotland. Buckingham Palace, at the end of St. James's Park, was purchased from the Duke of Buckingham in 17G1, by George III., and rebuilt in 18.25, after the designs of Nash, by order of William IV., who, however, never lived in it. In 1837, the Queen came there, and finding it too small for her, added a new wing, which looks on to the Park^ and forms the principal fa9ade of the edifice. The palace is built in a heavy and ungraceful style, and possesses three large arched gates opening into a quadrangle ornamented with columns of the Doric order, and with statues. The vestibule is surrounded by a series of columns of Carrara marble, each hewn from a single block, the bases and capitals being gilded. The grand staircase — the steps of which are of white marble — is decorated by Gruner and Townsend. The Throne Room, sixty-five 78 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. feet long;, hung with striped crimson silk, is very magnificent. The throne is placed on a dais of velvet of the same colour enriched with gilding. The ceiling is embossed with escutcheons and heraldic devices. Round the room is a frieze of white marble with bas reliefs, by Bailey, which represent various incidents in the Wars of the Roses. In the Picture Gallery are a number of paintings of the Dutch School of great value. The <=-:< BI'CKINT.HAJr TALAfE (FROM THE (iARDENs). most beautiful of the reception rooms is the Yellow Drawing-room, the furniture of which is covered with striped yellow satin, the woodwork being elaborately carved — a marvel of taste and elegance. Attached to the palace is a garden of about forty acres, enclosed by a wall, and remarkably well kept. In it are a lake, a charming summer-house, with minarets, and adorned with frescoes, and a chapel. St. James's Palace is in Pall Mall, at the bottom of St. James's Street. It is a sombre building formed of irregular blocks of houses, badly joined, with court-yards and narrow passages, and without free access of air. Of the palace erected by Henry VIII., on the site of a hospital for lepers, there remains scarce anything but the gate-house and turrets which face St. James's Street, THE WEST-END. built, it is said, after designs by Holbein. The other portions of the building have been restored so many times that it is not easy to describe the original appearance of the palace. In 1814, the Emperor of Russia, the King of Prussia, and Blucher were lodged in the Palace of St. James. The Queen never stays there, but levees are held there by the Prince of Wales; drawing-rooms, and other functions, which are held by Her Majesty in person, and by the Prince and Princess of Wales, on her behalf, take place at Buckingham Palace. The apartments do not recommend themselves either by their luxuriousness or by the objects of art contained in them. There is one historical souvenir visible ; in the old Presence Chamber a chimney piece bears the interlaced initials H. A. (Henry and Anne lioleyn) surrounded by a " true lover's knot." Every morning at a quarter to eleven, tlie guard mounting takes place at the 80 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. palace ; and while the sentries are relieved the band plays a choice selection of music, to the great delight of the crowd, which is always considerable. Alany of the apartments of St. James's Palace are inhabited by members of the Royal Family. Marlborough House, at the side, looking into the Park, has been the town residence of the Prince of Wales since his marriage in 1863. A high wall conceals part of this mansion — we cannot call it palace — ei'ccted by Sir Christopher Wren in 1710 for the celebrated Duchess of Marlborough, and purchased by the Crown in 1817 for the Princess Charlotte; and her husband, Leopold — later King of the Belgians — who became a widower after a few months, lived in it alone for many years. Badly situated, KENSINGTON PALACE. with a very inconvenient entrance, Marlborough house is scarcely a suitable dwelling for the heir to the throne of Great Britain. Kensington Palace is a massive brick building, situated at the western extremity of Kensington Gardens ; the upper portions of the edifice arc after the designs of Sir Cliristopher Wren. In this palace Queen Victoria was born, and here she held her first Council. A few years ago the collection of pictures of the German school, which had been collected by Prince Albert, was moved to other palaces, and there is not much to be seen in the palace, the interior of which contains nothing of interest. Whitehall Palace is situated in the fine, wide thoroughfare which leads from Trafalgar Square to tlie Houses of Parliament, and to which it has given its name. Tlierc is no trace remaining of the old Palace of Henry VIIL, which was destroyed TUK WEST-END. 81 by fire in 1691. James II. wished to build a magnificent building on the site — a palace worthy of the Kings of England; and lie caused a design for it to be made by Inigo JoueSj of which one portion^ the Banqueting House, still standing, was actually finished. This is called Whitehall Palace. The exterior of the building presents a two-storied fayade, lighted by windows separated by pillars of the louic and Corinthian orders, terminated by a roof which is ornamented by a balustrade. The interior, con- verted into a chapel by (Jeorgc I., is 111 feet in length and 55 feet in height. The ceding, painted by Rubens in 1(J35, represents the apotheosis of James 1. It is said that ST. JAMES'S PALACE. Jordaens assisted Rubens, and that Van Dyck executed the frescoes on the walls. Above the entrance gate is a very good statue of James I., in bronze, by Le Seur. From one of the windows of Wliitehall Charles I. i)asscd to the scaflbld. Cromwell occupied the palace after the King's death, and died there in 165S. At the southern extremity of the street is a fine open space in which are several monuments: here, also, are the Houses of Parliament. This magnificent edifice, situated upon the left bank of the Thames, a few paces from Westminster Abbey, is the most beautiful structure in London. The old Parliament House was destroyed 11 82 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. hj fire in 1834 ; and the present building was commenced from the designs of Sir Charles Barry, in 1840. The principal front facing the Thames, from which it is separated by a terrace 36 feet wide, is 300 yards long. It is divided into five unequal portions, of which the two extremes are projecting, and which are separated by pointed turi'cts. The exterior walls, carved, sculptured, ornamented with arabesques and escutcheons, and devices chiselled in the stone in Gothic style, arc pierced by a multitude of pointed windows, and niches which contain statues of the English Sovereigns, from William the Conqueror down to Queen Victoria. At the northern angle, at a little distance in rear of the river front is the Clock Tower, an erection 30 feet square and 300 feet high ; it supports a clock, with four dials, 30 feet in diameter ; and is sur- mounted by a lantern of open - work design and gilt, with a somewhat tinselled effect. A graceful spire, 300 feet high, springs from the centre of the building just above • the central lobby. The Victoria Tower, wliich stands at the southern extre- mity of the Palace, is the largest square tower in the world. Its imposing mass (80 feet square and 330 feet high) looks down upon the whole building. The Royal Porch, opening upon the western fa9ade, is reserved for the Sovereign. It is richly decorated, and contains the statues of the patron saints of the " three king- doms " — St. George for England, St. Andrew for Scotland, and St. Patrick for Ireland; as well as a statue of the Queen, in a niche surrounded with carvings and arabesques. A staii'case leads us to the Guard Room, and to the apartment termed the Queen's Rol)ing Room, decorated with frescoes by Dyce, illustrating the exploits of King Arthur. This room opens into the Victoria Gallery, which is also decorated with frescoes of historical subjects, and leads into the Prince's Chamber, in which is a beautiful group, by Gibson, representing Queen Victoria between Justice and Mercy. Here we notice, also, a series of portraits of the Sovereigns of the Tudor dynasty and some splendid wood carvings. The ceiling is of surpassing richness of decoration. The Prince's Chamber opens directly into the House of Lords. The entrance to the House is through Westminster Hall, which was erected by ^■AY'' y- \ 53»^^i '^■i^iPi.S ywt' )2l^ y^ ■^ 84 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. "William Rufus in 1100, and restored — some authorities say rebuilt — by Richard II., 200 years later. The beautiful Gothic nave is the largest of its kind, in which the roof is of a single span. The oak wood-work which supports the roof springs gracefully from the friezes of the wall, and forms a Gothic curve of surprising lightness. Delicate carvings add to the beauty of tliis roofing, representing angels bearing escutcheons; and arabesques are twined around the beams. All this series of Gothic ornamentation, of the most inexhaustible fancy of design, is in most exquisite taste. At the end of Westminster Hall a flight of steps leads to St. Stephen's Hall, a long corridor lined with statues of celebrated statesmen and Parliamentary orators— Hampden, Clarendon, Walpole, Chatham, Fox, Pitt, Grattan, etc. ; and, abutting on the Central Hall, an / ■^-T^ ^Pv.^ ' TV fliaptl Royal flnlliein Gatf (demolisheil) King Street Gate (ilemolisherl). WHITEHALt, PALACE. octagon-shaped vestibule ornamented with frescoes by Ward and Pickcrsgill. Two corridors lead from this lobby; one to the right into the House of Lords, that to the left to the House of Commons. The Upper Chamber is in the form of a double cube, being exactly twice as long as it is wide. It is lighted by twelve windows, six on each side, the glass in which rrpresents the Sovereigns of England. At dusk these windows are lighted from without. At each extremity of the chamber, in the arched panels, are frescoes by English artists, representing various historical, legendary, or allegorical subjects. The statues which will be observed in the niches are those of the Barons who forced King John to sign the Magna Charta. Beneath the windows extends a light gallery, supported by a cornice ornamented with the coats of arms of sovereigns, lord chancelloi's, and bishops. The ceiling is sunk, and is ornamented with emblematical designs, devices, and monograms, amongst which, between the lilies of France and the lions of England and Scotland, we perceive the sun of the liousc of York and the grenade of Castille. THE WEST-END. 85 The throne is in the upper end of the chamber ; immediately to the right of it is the Prince of Wales's chair. The Woolsack, on which the Lord Chancellor sits, is almost in the centre, and covered with crimson cloth. To the right and left, throughout the length of the chamber, are the benches of the Lords raised in tiers. The richness and magnificence of the decorations of the House of Lords present one of the mo.st bcatitiful sights one can see in London ; wben the Peers arc assembled tlic coup d'wil is really splendid. The sittings commence at five o'clock, and usually continue for two hours, for the Lords do not care for lengthy debates, and, having no constitu^ents to please, only speak when they have something to say. The tone of the Upper Chamber is not the same as that of the Commons ; and any such member who has been elevated to the Peerage soon finds himself out of his element if he change it not. For instance. Lord Sherbrooke has no longer the aggressive manner of ]\Ir. Lowe, and Mr. Disraeli effaced himself somewhat behind Lord Beaconsfield. Each Peer speaks from his place, and addresses himself to his colleagues. The Lord Chancellor presides, but the House itself intei-prets and applies its rules. The votes are expressed by the French words, content and non content ; and the French language is also employed in other cere- monies and formalities in the British Parlia- ment. It is in this way the Royal assent is given to the laws passed by the two chambers by the words. La reyne le veulf. As we have said, the debates in the House of Lords are generally without incident. One can, howevei", recall some memorable sittings. Such was that of the 7tli April, 1779. On that day Lord Chatham, who was in a dying state, caused himself to be brought to the House of Lords to speak against the motion of the Dukeof Richmond, to recognize American independence. After the Duke had replied, Chatham rose a second time to speak, but before he had pronounced another word he fell fainting into the arms of the Duke of Cumberland and Lord Temple. Carried home and attended wth the greatest solicitude, he lingered for a month without ever completely recovering his speech, and succumbed •at length to the malady that assailed him. What a stirring scene, and what a glorious ending to the career of a statesman on whom death had already laid his heavy hand, but whom h(^ could not prevent from doing his duty to the very end ! The performance of duty as such is the dominating trait in the British character. Chatham died while doing his "duty," and Nelson's last signal to the fleet as he was going into action was, " England expects every man to do his duty ! " The House of Commons, in its arrangement, reminds us of the House of Lords. CLOCK TOWER (HOUSES OK I'AHLIAJIENT). 86 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. It is as wide, but not so long, and the decoration is by no means so lavish. The windows are composed of ordinary glass, and tlie walls are panelled with carved oak. The benches are arranged as in the other Chamber, but the centre is open, and the Speaker's chair occupies the place of the throne. There are 670 members, and as there are only scats for 470, the remaining I'J i members are obliged to accom- modate themselves as best they can. In front of the Speaker is the table of the clerks of the Parliament, on which is laid the Mace — the symbol of the Sovereign's authority, and without which the Chamber cannot proceed to business. When the Commons are sitting the j\Iace is upon the table, but underneath it when the House is "in Committee." When the Speaker leaves the Chair the Serjeant at Arms precedes him with the emblem which Cromwell dis- dainfully characterized as " that Bauble." The authority of the Speaker is abso- lute, and his word is law. When a member continues to be out of order, tlie Speaker "names''' him — that is to say, calls him by his name. By a recog- nized custom, which evades all personality, the representative is designated as the Hon. Member for So-and-so. In the last century a ]\Iember of Parliament was interrupted by the Speaker, who threatened to " name " him. " And what will happen then, Mr. Speaker?" inquired the recal- citrant one. " God knows ! " replied the Speaker. Such was the respect for the President that no provision had been made for any case in which it would be necessary to employ more energetic measures. The Ministers and the Ministerialist party sit at the right hand of tlic Speaker, the Opposition on the left. The Leadei' of the Opposition has great authority, and one might almost call liim the ni'^"^^ STATVE OK RICHARD CtEUR DE LION. Minister of the Opposition, so important a part does he play in the Parliamentary life of the country. He is known as the Leader of Her Majesty's Opposition. There is no " tribune " in the House, and the Members speak from their places, a fact which does not militate against good speaking. They address the Speaker, not the Memb(!rs. The other IMenibcrs sit, hats on Ijrows, in various attitudes, listening or sleeping. That is what Lord North, the Prime Minister of George III., often did. THE WEST-END. 87 during the delivery of his opponent's speeches. In the course of one debate, an orator as indefatigable as wearisome, entered into a history of naval construction, commeucino- with Noah's Ark. Sir Grey Cooper, a colleague of Lord North, accidentally aroused his chief. '• Where is he now ? " inquired the Prime Minister, rubbing his eyes. " In the reign of Elizabeth," was the reply. " Why did you not let me sleep a century or two longer ? " said North, as he disposed himself to continue his interrupted slumber. As the sittings commence at four in the afternoon, and are often continued far into the night, sometimes until four or five o'clock in the morning, the honourable Members who give way to slumber are not so blam- able as one might first be inclined to imagine. As for the ^linisters who, having passed the night in the House and the day in tlieir oflices, content themselves during more than six months in the year with oidy a few hours' rest in the day, thev must be gifted with a strength and energy which is not common to man. To attend a sitting of the House, it is necessary to obtain a pass signed by a IMember of Parliament. In theory, t!ie sittings are secret ; but by a curious fiction, the prcseuce of strangers is supposed not to be known in the House. Quite recently it was regarded as sufficient for a Member to call the attention of the Speaker to the presence of strangers to ensure their withdrawal. The reporters have a gallery to themselves above the Speaker's chair. A species of cage is reserved for ladies, who, since 1738, have been rigorously relegated to the doors of the House; but " accommodations " can be made with Parlia- ment, and this ingenious method has been devised, on the Turkish system, to permit English women to contemjilate their law- givers. This little gallery is packed on occasions of important debates. The British House of Commons has certainly not degenerated. Gladstone, Bright, Hartington, Chamberlain, Parnell, are the worthy successors of Pitt, Canning, John Stuart Mill, Peel, Brougham, Disraeli ; of Disraeli, that wonderful genius, whose first eflbrts were so discouraging, and who, by the unaided force of his brain, succeeded in bringing to his feet those who had laughed at him so pitilessly ; and to whom, as he accepted the challenge and picked up the gage, he addressed the prophetic words — " I now sit down, but the time will come when you shall hear me." From Parliament to the Ministerial Departments of State is but a step, for nearly all of them are in close proximity to the Houses, in the street called Whitehall — so named from the Palace which is therein situated. Ministers who wish to be present at the debates are thus within easy call, and are enabled during the sittings to obtam any information they may require with great promptitude. '^',- ■ '-tfZ '^*i" -■ '^■^■--^fi,' '■'Lj.' '-■■1-' ^'" '■ W<€;. VlCTOllIA TOWER (HOUSES OF PARLIAMENT). LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. Tliis is an opportune moment to glance at the strange " monument '' which is called the British Constitution, simply composed of traditions and precedents, the working of which is so perfect as a whole (notwithstanding the apparent confusion of the various component parts) , as to be a continued source of astonishment to strangers. In France, one speaks of the " machinery " [rouayes) of the administration, and no term can be more applicable, for the French organization is an admirably conducted machine, all parts of which are set in motion by a single motor ; but, as in all machines, when one portion gets out of order the whole ceases to work. The English administration on WESTMINSTER HALL. the contrary is a mosaic, made u]i of numerous pieces of difi'crent forms and colouring, some ancient, some modern, whicii can be changed at will, and replaced Ijy new bits, to meet the exigencies of the momcntj without disarranging the com])leteness of the whole faljric, thanks to the solid framework which sustains it all. This framework is Parliament. If wc remember that " the distinctive characteristic of the English people is anomaly," as Mr. Matthew Arnold says, we shall understand better how tlie English, impatient of systematic restrictions, opposed to constraint and puperasseric, have built up of shreds and patches the surprising edifice which is called the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland. We shall no longer be astonished at this melange of laws ancient and modern, at these customs of a former age, preserved down to the closing years of the lOth Century, aiul of whioli the ^Oth Century will not see the end. All this, from the French point of view, is wanting in logic — iu system. But your THE WEST-END. 89 Englishman does not pretend to be logical, he rather avoids it, preferring to preserve the old tree of his traditions, while lopping off all dead branches, and grafting on it the new "cuttings" of which it has need. He knows that a tree requires a long time to grow up, and that when one roots up an old oak the whole garden is disturbed. Gut AU^ HOUSE OF LORDS. The United Kingdom is under a limited monarchy ; that is to say, that, contrary to the Sovereigns of divine right, the English monarclis occupy the throne on certain conditions, the non-performance of which would entail their downfall. The Government is composed of the three estates of the realm, which arc the Sovereign, the House of 18 90 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. Lords and the House of Commons. These three estates co-operate in the making of the laws. The other powers belong exclusively to the Sovereign, who is nevertheless not responsible. The responsibility for his or her acts rests with the Royal advisers. These are the members of the Privy Council, of which the Cabinet forms a portion. By one of those strange anomalies of which England affords so many examples, the Cabinet, which, in reality, rules the country, has no poli- tical existence recognized by the Constitution, and no Act of Parliament mentions it ! It is composed of at least nine members, but often contains fourteen or fifteen. The head of the Cabinet is called the Premier. The titles of the principal Ministers of the Crown are as follows : — The First Lord of the Treasury (whose functions arc almost always performed by the Prime Minister), the Lord High Chancellor, the Lord President of the Council, the Lord Privy Seal, and the Chancellor of tlie Exchequer. Then come the Secretaries of State for the various departments, namely, the Home Department, Foreign Affairs, Colonics, War and Lidia. The Navy is ad- ministered by the Board of Admiralty, pi'esided over by the First Lord ; Commerce is repre- sented by the President of the Board of Trade; the Postal and Telegraph Departments by the Postmaster-General. There are, besides, certain State functionaries, who, though attaining the rank of Ministers, have not seats in the Cabinet; such as the Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster, the Field-Marshal Commandiug-in- Chief, and many others. It will be noticed STATUE OF LORD DERBY (PARLIAMENT SQUARE). that there is no Minister of Justice in England. The law emanates from the Sovereign, and does not depend upon any departmental power — a priceless guarantee for the independence of the Magistracy. All the Ministers who must sit in Parliament are assisted by Under-Secretaries, selected from the Lower House if the Minister is in the LTppcr House, and from the Upper Mouse if the Minister sits in the Commons. Besides, there is in every depart- ment, in order to ensure the perfect expedition of business and a uniform system of procedure, a high official called a Permanent Secretary, whose position is not affected by a change of Ministry. The advantages of this system are so evident that it is needless to dwell on them. Going from the Houses of Parliament to Charing Cross, we pass the chief Govern- THE WEST-END. 91 ment Departments, which we will mention in succession, while broadly indicating their respective attributes. We first perceive a building in the Italian style, with a flat roof, embellished by pinnacles, which shelters the Home, Colonial, Indian, and Foreign i^. rjj, Offices. The first-named, or Home Office, only dates its existence from 1801 ; it was formerly amalgamated with those of Foreign %MM^^ HOUSE OF COMMONS. Affairs and the Colonies. It has to deal with the interior administration of the kingdom, the inspection of manufactories, workshops, mines, and fisheries. As its name indicates, the Colonial Office administers the affairs of the numerous British possessions scattered over the globe, and needs no special description. The India Office only dates from 1858, when it superseded the celebrated East India Company, which no longer exists. The Minister at the head of this department controls the acts of the Viceroy of India. He is assisted by the CouncU of India, TiMINi>TEll AliUKl. Ijishop of Canterbury, who placed it on her head. At the same moment, the Peers of the Realm put on their coronets, the Bishops their mitres ; the drums and trumpets resounded through the aisles, while the salvoes of artillery, and the enthusiastic shouts of the multitude, shook the building to its foundations. 14 106 LONDON AND ITS ENVIKONS. For a long time, Westminster possessed the rights of sanctuary. The wife of Edward l\. took refuge there, when Warwick, the kingmaker, had put Edward in prison ; and there abandoned by everyone, she gave birth to Edward V. Later on, when Gloucester wished to possess himself of the crown, she had a second time to " gain of Westminster the inviolable sanc- tuary." The precincts of Westminster have lately been made a parish, of which the official designation is St. Peter's, Westminster. The church is in the form of a Latin cross, and consists of a fine nave, transept, and an apsis sur- rounded by little chapels. Henry YlL's Chapel is a pro- longation of the apsis, and gives to the two portions of the Abbey, divided by the transept, an equal length. The two sides of the Cross are not the same width — an arrange- ment which detracts somewhat from the interior aspect of the fabric : the northern arm contains a beauti- ful rose window 30 feet in diameter. "Poets' Corner" is at the southern branch or arm. The interior dimensions are as follows : — the length from one extremity to the other is aljout 510 feet, and the height about 102 feet. The visitor is struck by the height of the nave, wliieli is supported by high clustered columns, above which is the triforium and a range of windows, some of stained glass. Tlie wood-carvings of the choir arc modern, as well as the altar and tlie organ. All parts of the edifice arc embellished with statues, and a large number of monumental tablets, of which some are worthy of notice, and the greater part mediocre, so that the fane has rather the appearance of a museum than a church. Thus a very peculiar and very strange effect is produced. The chapels are interesting. The most remarkable is that of Henry VIL, a master- piece of Gothic architecture, the entrance to which is barred by a brass railing of curious workmanship. The nave presents a double range of twisted columns, the bases of which are liiddcn behind the stalls of the Knights of the Rath, who formerly held their meetings here, and whose banners are suspended from the walls. The roof, embellished with pendentives and ornamented with carvings, is of a richness of ornamentation rarely seen. It is a delicious intermingling of stone lace-work, an abundance of ingenious motives, a fecundity of invention, which one can never be weary of admiring. The whole is PULPIT (WESTMINSTER ABBEY THE WEST-END. 107 wonderfully conceived, and carried out with a carefulness of execution, of wliicli it is impossible to give an idea. It is the gold- smith's art in stone-work. Thirty - tiiree windows light the chapel which contains the tomb of Henry VII., by Torrigiano, and that of Mary, Queen of Scots. Here we may also notice a statue of the Duke of IMont- pensier, the brother of Louis Philippe, by Westmacott; the tomb of George Yilliers, Duke of Buckingham, and the sumptuous monument erected by James I., to the memory of Elizabeth. The Chapel of St. Edmund contains some monuments very interesting by reason of their antiquity. One of the most curious is that of William de ^'alencc ; it is embel- lished with enamels on brass, and in former days was surrounded by thirty statuettes. The Chapel of St. Nicholas shelters the tombs of the Duchess of Somerset, wife of the Protector ; of Lady Burghley, and of Kathcrinc de Valois, wife of Henry V. St. Edward the Confessor's Chapel, or the Chapel of the Kings, is situated immediately behind the altar, from which it is separated by a screen, decorated with 14 bas-reliefs, representing incidents in the life of Edward. The tomb of this Prince is in the centre of the chapel; it was formerly covered with mosaics and slabs of marble. Around this tomb are those of Henry III., Edward I. and his wife Eleanor, of Queen Philippa, of Richard II. and his wife, of Henry V. and other sovereigns. It is from this assemblage of the I'oyal dead that the chapel takes POETS' CORNER (WESTMINSTER ABBEY). -^g ^^cOuA tltlC. HcrC alsO is tbe Coronation chair, in which is embedded the black stone which, aecortling to tradition, served Jacob for a pillow. The pavement, in mosaic, which dates from the reign of Henry HI., is in a melancholy state of dilapidation. CORONATION CHAIH (WESTMINSTER ABBEY). 108 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. The chapels of St. John, St. Michael, and St. Andrew, now are formed into one, as the partitions which existed have been removed. Here we find two remarkable monuments, works of the sculptor Roubiliac : the first is that in memory of Sir Francis Vere ; the second that of Lady Nightingale. It is related that a friend of Roubiliac found him one day deep in thought before one of the four statues of the knights which adorn the tomb of De Vcre. At the moment when the friend was about to address the artist, the latter seized him by the arm, and pointing to the statue, exclaimed, " Hush, he is about to speak!" . . . Nothing can be more graceful than the figure of Lady Nightingale, or more expressive than Iier features, in which can be read the fear of Death, who is threaten- ing her with his dart. But it is chiefly for the monu- ments, statues, and tablets, whicli it contains, that the Abbey of West- minster is so interesting to the tourist, the artist, and the sight-seer; there are few impressions so moving as those which we experience when we visit this Pan- theon OF England. If St. Paul's is almost exclusively devoted to the records of military glory, Westminster is par excel- lence the resting-place of men illustrious in science, art, letters, and politics, which have done more than warriors to build up the greatness of Great Bntam. All are here united in death, oblivious, no doubt, in the peaceful regions which they have reached, of the divisions which separated them in this life, and remembering only their common devotion to their country, which they loved and served so well. Poets, actors, statesmen, men of science, authors, historians, repose side by side without order, in a medley which sometimes causes singular meetings. Thus, in the northern aisle, Pitt and Fox, the two rivals, are buried close to each other, not far from the actor Kemble and Mrs. Siddons, his sister, the tragedienne. A tablet bears the poets' corner (WESTMINSTER ABBEY). THE WEST-END. 109 name of Davy, the illustrious chemist, and close at hand is the monument to Sir John Franklin, who met his death in search of the North-west Passage. Then comes a group of politicians — Grattan, Canning, Castlereagh, Palmerston, Chatham, and Sir Robert Peel, the great debaters; Warren Hastings, the Governor - General of India; Lord Mansfield, the illustrious judge, whose beautiful monu- ment is due to the chisel of Flaxman ; and many others. Returning towards the nave we pass the tablets commemorative of Purcell and Blow, thecelcbrated musicians who lived in the end of the irth century. In the nave, Hers- chel, the astronomer ; Ben Jonson, the com- petitor of Shakespeare ; Killigrew, the wit; and Lord Holland, the English Mccrenas, face Wordswoitli and Con- greve, the poets; Lord Clyde and Sir Henry Havelock, the heroes of the Indian Mutiny ; and Newton, the immortal genius. But take care in traversing the nave not to tread upon the tombs of Livingstone, Telford, and Lyell. Sta, viator ; heroem calcas. Passing the memorial of Thomas Thynne, remem- bered for his tragic end — he was assassinated in 1682, in the street, by three bravos hired by his rival, the Count of Koningsmark, a scene which is represented in bas- relief upon his monument — we at length reach Poets' Corner, so called from the records it contains: monuments erected to the memory of illustrious poets and literary men. First comes Garrick, actor and author, whose statue by Webber is only second-rate, and was sharply criticized by Charles CLOISTERS (WESTMINSTER ABBEY) ST. GEORGE'S CATHEDRAL (ROMAN CATHOLIC). 110 LONDON AXU ITS ENVIRONS. Lamb ; then Macpherson, the translator, or rather, the author of " Ossian ; " Casaubon, the Genevese Controversialist, to whom we owe the excellent versions of " Perseus" and " I'olybius ; " Davenant, the friend of Milton ; Old Parr, who died in 1635 at, it is said, the age of 152 years, after having lived in the reigns of ten sovereigns, from Edward II. to Charles I., and whose presence in the Poets' Corner is scarcely explicable by the side of Addison and Macaulay. On the left, three tablets bear the names of Samuel Johnson, the famous lexicographer, celebrated for his roughness and whimsicalities; of HESllV VII. s CH.M'EL (WESTMINSTEB ABBEY). Sheridan, the author of the immortal " School for Scandal ; " and of Garrick. The tablet commemorative of Oliver Goldsmith, who has left us one of the most exquisite works in the English language, "The Vicar of Wakefield," bears a Latin inscription by Samuel Johnson, who peremptorily refused to dishonour the walls of Westminster by an inscription in English. Then, in the angle, we have Gay, the author of the " Fables; " Thomson, the poet of the " Seasons ; " Campbell, who sang the " Pleasures of Hope ; " and Southey. Near by rises the monument erected by George II. to William Shakespeare, whose remains rest at Stratford-on-Avon, his birthplace. The poet is represented standing, his THE WEST-END. Ill HENRY VII.'s TOMB (WKSTMINSTEK ABBEV). legs crossed, in an attitude which is scarcely characteristic of the greatest dramatic poet that ever lived. St. Evremond rests near Prior, and not far off we find a bnst of Milton, put np by 112 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. one Benson, who in the inscription on it, found means, as Doctor Johnson said to Ceston, to say "more words upon himself than upon Milton." Gray, Spencer, and Chaucer — the father of English poetry — arc also in Poets' Corner, as well as Dryden and his rival Shadwell. Near Handel's monument, a bust and a tomb attract the attention of all visitors, the least literary as well as the most refined. The bust represents the features of Thackeray, the author of " Vanity Fair ; " the tomb is that of Charles Dickens, the creator of the immortal " Pickwick," the stirring writer, all whose works are equally master-pieces, and whose name, celebrated everywhere, is surrounded by an imperishable glory. This rapid glance at some of the principal monuments of Westminster Abbey, which would require a volume to describe in detail, suffices to justify the name of the Pantheon of England, which we have bestowed upon the old Abbey, and that is one of the most worthy titles, if not the most worthy, which could be bestowed upon it. The Chapter House, one of the cariosities of the Abbey, communicates by a passage with the nave of the cathedral. It is an octagon building, the roof of which is supported by a central marble column, to which the monks condemned to the scourge were fastened. Here we perceive an ancient mural painting of the fourteenth century in a good state of preservation, and many old relics, armour, seals, old charts, etc., preserved in cases. The Chapter House was restored in 1S(3G, by Sir G. Scott. Divine service is celebrated at the Abbey every morning. On Sundays the attendance is very numerous, for the music and the clioir of Westminster are celebrated. Many people are drawn thither l)y the excellent sermons which arc preached. Westminster, formerly an episcopate, is now only a deanery ; but the Dean of Westminster, nominated by the Crown, enjoys complete independence, and is only responsible to the Sovereign. Close to the Abbey is the church of St. Margaret, which is periodically threatened with destruction, because it spoils the view, and does not harmonize with its sur- roundings. It contains the tomb of Caxton, the introducer of the art of printing into England, and that of Sir Walter Raleigh. The other religious edifices scattered l)roadcast throughout the metropolis are less interesting. We must, however, make an exception in favour of the church of St. Saviour, Soutlnvark, on the right bank of the Thames, of which the choir, the Lady Chapel, and a transept dating from the 14th century, are considered excellent* specimens of English architecture of the Middle Ages. The other parts of the edifice, added at various periods, are the despair of archaeologists — a race who are very difficult to please, as we all know. St. Saviour's contains some curious tombs. We find that of the poet Gower, who lived in the 15th century; that of Andrews, Bishop of Winchester, who died in 1626; and a wooden figure representing a knight. In the churchyard were buried Edmund Shakespeare, brother of the poet ; Fletcher and INIassinger, the dramatic authors ; and Henslowe, the actor; but their tombs have not been discovered. The church of St. Martin's-in-the-Fields, Trafalgar Square, dates from the 18th century, and possesses a handsome portico. The edifice occupies the site of an ancient church, in wliicli the famous Chancellor Bacon was christened. In the vaults are the THE WEST-END. 113 tombs of Nell Gwynue; Hunter, the famous surgeon; Jack Sheppartl, the celebrated thief, who could Ecarcely liave expected to find himself in such good company; the painter, La guerre ; tlie sculptor, Roubiliac ; F;,rquhar, the dramatist; and others. Buckingham Palace is in this parish, and the registers mention the births of many of the Roya! children. St. George's, Hanover Square, is tlie fashionable church for weddings. Is It because there were celebrated the nuptials of Emma Harte, or Lyons, the too notorious Lady PLimilton ? S-t. James's, Piccadilly, is a heavy brick building, guarded by a walled court ; it was erected after the designs of Wren. The interior possesses some sculptures I)y Grinling Gibbons; the tombs of the elder and younger Van de Yeldc, and of Gillray, the cai'icaturist. All these churclies, it need scarcely be said, are dedicated to the Protes- tant forms of worship. Some ciuu-chcs belonging to the other creeds are wortli attcn- ST. SAVKIUKSCHUUCH (SOITH WAHK). ST. CF.OROES CHl-RCH (DLOCMSBl-R V 1 INTEUIOa OF ST. (JILE.S' CUCItClI (C.^MBKHWELL). 114 LONDON AND ITS KNVIKONS. tion. Amongst these we may cite tlie Roman Catholic Cathedral of St. George R ST. martin's i'HI'RCH (Ty!AFAI.f;AI! SljrAUK.) (Lnnibetli) ; tlic Greek Church (Bayswater), which is richly decorated in the Byzantine style, and the synagogue in Great Portland Street — a curious Moorish construction. THE WEST-END. 115 THE MUSEUMS AND SCIENTIFIC SOCIETIES. THE BRITISH MUSEUM. — THE NATION A 1. GALLEliY. SOUTH KENSINGTON MUSEUM. BETHNAL GllEEN MUSEUM. THE MUSEUM or NATURAL HISTORY. THE ROVAL ACADEMY. — THE ROYAL SOCIETV. THE ROYAL INSTITUTION, ETC. The British ^Museum is situated in Great Russell Street, Bloomsbury, ou the site of Montague House. It is separated from the street by a gilded iron railing, the gates giving access to the well-kept courtyard with grass-plots. The principal front shows us a central building and two projecting wings j it is surrounded by a stylobate five feet high, which supports forty-four columns, 45 feet in height. The great portico, to which we ascend by a wide flight of steps, is composed of a double colonnade, on which rests a pediment, the tympanum of which is decorated with allegorical sculptures by Sir R. Westmacott, representing the progress of Civilization. The general plan is a rectangle formed of four blocks of buildings surrounding a vast interior court, lu which was built (iu 18o7) the great Reading Room. This Museum, one of the richest iu Europe, has existed for little more than a century. In fact, it was not opened until January, 1759, by virtue of an Act of Parliament of 1753, authorizing the purchase of the collection of Sir Hans Sloane, and the Library of Robert Harley, Earl of Oxford, and confiding the administration of the Museum to fifty Trustees, including the Lord Chancellor, the Primate, and the Speaker of the House of Commons. This was the origin of the British ]Museum, the rapid increase of which is well-nigh prodigious. Acquisitions and donations increased and multiplied to such an extent, that new galleries had to be erected, and all the Natural History collections had to be transferred to a specially-constructed ^Museum at South Kensington. In the near future, it Avill be necessary to erect other special museums, for the collections now in Great Russell Street are pinched for room, and tiie British Museum will, unfortunately, lose the distinctive mai'k which is conferred on it by the grouping in one building of artistic, ethnographical, zoological, mineral, and botanical curiosities; as well as the magnificent national library, which numbers 1,300,000 printed volumes. The Library is being extended greatly — thanks to the sum of .t 10,000 which is annually set aside for approved acquisitions, estimated at 20,000 volumes. It is mucli to be desired that other National Libraries would take example by the Reading Room of the British ^Museum, the arrangements of which are absolutely perfect. Let the reader picture to himself an immense domed, circular hall, 140 feet iu diameter, lighted by twenty high windows by day, and by electric lamps, suspended from the ceiling, at dusk; brightly painted and gilded. In the centre a species of round desk (" tribune"), occupied by the superintendent and his assistants, is surrounded by concentric shelves, which contain the 300 folio volumes of the manuscript catalogue — the printed catalogue is not yet finished— and these form a 116 LUNDOX AND ITS ENVIKUNS. kind of uavc of a gigantic wlicel, of wliicli the tliirly-five rows of desks for the readers arc the spokes. These desks (and tahk's), of wliich two rows are reserved for ladies exclusively, are furnished with folding bookstands, ink bottles, blotting pads, &c., for the workers. No trouble has been spared to make the reading-room as commodious as possible. The system of ventilation is perfect, and means are provided by which hot or cold air can be introduced, according to the seasons. For some years the introduction of the electric light has enabled the authorities to prolong the hours during which the readers, who arc always increasing in numbers, may work ; for there is scarcely a savant, a novelist, or a journalist, who does not use the Museum Liljrary. Sir Walter Scott, j\Iacaulay, Charles Lamb, Washington Irving, Hallam, Grote, Bulwer Lytton, Thackeray, Douglas Jerrold, have all passed many hours there ; so have M. Guizot, j\r. Thiers, Louis Philippe, and more recently still, Cavour, Garibaldi, Louis Blanc, and many others whom the changes and chances of political life have forced to take advantage of the hospitality which England accords to all with impartial generosity. Admission to the British Museum is absolutely gratuitous. The Grenville and the King's Libraries are open to the public, but no one can enter the reading-room without a ticket of admission. The sculptm-e galleries, which ai-e perhaps the richest in tlie world in Grecian and lloman antiquities, include the famous Parthenon frieze, fragments of the Erectheum and of the Temple of Diana at Ephesus, as well as an immense number of admirable antique marbles. Amongst the Egyptian antiquities will be found the celebrated Rosetta Stone, and a beautiful collection of papyrus of the greatest value. The bronzes of Roman, Greek, and Etruscan art came partly from the collections of Payne Knight, Hamilton, Pourtales, De Blacas, and Castellani. It is in the British Museum, in the Jewel Gallery, that the priceless Portland Yase will be found. It was one day broken into fragments by some idiot who struck it with his cane. The Coin and jMedal Department, rich in Greek and Roman antiquities, oifers to the spectator a superb collection of Eastern moneys ; and the gallery of engravings and drawings includes splendid specimens of all schools, and particularly of the English, Dutch, and French masters. Tlie "Budget" of the British Museum is considerable — about j610J,000, of which .€.24'jOOO are appropriated to acquisitions of all kinds, and the remaiudv'r to the payment of the officials, the repairs, and general expenses. The National Gallery occupies the north side of Trafalgar Square, and the building in which the pictures are located, consists of a portico flanked by two wings, with a villainous IcaJen cap, which is dignified by the name of a dome, of no architectural worth. Founded in 18.24', this Gallery of Paintings consists of more than 1,000 choice pictures, and is enriched every year by a number of valuable works. It is estimated that L400,000 have been spent in adding to the collection since the National Gallery was opened ; but this sum is very far short of the value of the collection, of which the most precious specimens have been given to the nation by private individuals or artists. The richest donations thus made were bequeathed by Lord Farnborough, Mr. ^ crnon, and .Mr. Wynn Ellis. In the entrance hall is a statue of D.ivid Wilkic, whose palette is encased on tlie i«ii-ji^-il ji* ■f^f^ '^ a — ii= -^tr-'^'^>^ BBITISH MUSEUM. 118 LOXUOX AKl) ITS EXVIIIOXS. \ ,,y«\<>W^ ^1 M'SMnFfl';! fft. • pedestal, aud a bas-relief by Banks, rcpresentiug Thetis aud lier uyiuphs cousoliiig Acliilles. The galleries are lighted from above, aud each picture bears a tablet, giving the uame of the paiuter aud the subject of it— au excellent idea— very simple and very useful, which ought to be adopted iu all galleries. Of the eighteen rooms in the Katioual Gallery, eight are devoted to the Euglish school of painting, four to the Italian, one to the French, aud one to the Dutch. The others arc occupied by special collections, one of them named the Select Cabinet, contains the gems of the collection— the pearls of the museum. In this apartment Ave find the "Holy Famdy/' and the " Catherine of Alexandria," by Raphael; the "Entombment" and the "Madonna," by Michael Angelo; the celebrated " Vierge ^■<^ ~ ^ au pauier," by Correg- ^ - ^ gioj "Bacchus and Ariadne;"and"Christ" and tlic portrait of " Ariosto," by Titian, as well as many other magnificent canvases signed by the most illustrious artists of the Italian school. The French school is represented by Claude Lorrain, Nicolas Poussin, Philippe de Cham- ])agne, Rigaud, and Joseph ^'ernet ; the Spanish masters by Murillo, A clasqucz, aud Zurbaran; the Dutch by Rembrandt, Rubens, Van Eyck, Ruysdael, Teuiers, \'an Dyek. Amongst the pictures of the English school, we notice the " Marriage a la mode " by Hogarth; the "Cornfield," by Constable; the landscapes of Cronie and Cooper; portraits by Gainsborough, Lawrence, Romney, and Reynolds; the sea-pieces of Staufield; the animals of Landseer; and, above all, the twenty-five pictures by Tui'ner, of which " Dido building Carthage," and " Sunrise in Fog," are, by the expressed wish of the artist, placed in the rooms devoted to the French school, beside the two paintings of Claude — the "Marriage of Rebecca" and the " Queen of Shcba." According to English custom, many of these paintings are under glass, a very necessary precaution iu such an atmosphere as that of Loudon. The South Kensington Museum, surrounded by buddings which have nothing remarkable about their appearance, inasmuch as they are incomplete, has, so to speak, no fajadc. The two doors which give entrance to the galleries are narrow aud inconvenient, and, like all that is provisional, threaten to endure for ever. To till" initiative of the late Prince Consort, seconded by Sir Tlcury Cole, v,e are COUKT OF SOUTH KEXSINGTO.N' MCSEUM. THF: WEST-EXl). 119 indebted for this Museum of industrial art, which has served as a model for all institutions of a similar character recently established in all European countrieSj under the influence of the great artistic movement, the tendency of which is to raise the level of art as applied to industry, so long and so unjustly neglected. The ^Museum contains collections of objects of decorative art, paintings, sculpture, goldsmiths' work, jewellery, enamels, ivory, pottery, glass, metal, tapestry, &c. ; a gallery of English paintings, a museum of constnictivc materials, a museum of educa- tion, an art library, and a museum of patents, in which models of all important inventions are exhibited. The Indian Museum, or rather the Indian Section, occupies a building on the other side of the street. Therein the collection brought from India bv the Prince of Wales has been united ^ with those which were formerly in the ^Museum. The latter, once the property of the East India Company, were carried to the India Office, and finally deposited at South Kensington, where they will probably remain. There are a number of articles in gold and silver, arms and jewels, to be admired ; shawls and stuffs of vivid colours, ivory articles, and wood carved with a patience and skill only possessed by the Orientals ; as well as the throne of Runject Singh, idols covered with jewels, and admirably-executed models of the principal Indian monuments. It is a veritable dream — a chapter in ''The Thotisand and One Nights" — a vision of the Orient. The system of classification is difficult to define; we cannot say what idea presided over the arrangement of the collections. With the exception of the Italian art objects — which are placed in a gallery by themselves — the specimens seem to be distributed at random, and it is not easy to find them out. The jewels and terra cotta, the apparel and tlie forged iron, the pottery and the musical instruments, are placed pell-mell in the same gallery, without any regard to their production, or the countries whence they 1-20 LONDON AND ITS KNVIItONS. have come. Notwithstanding — perhaps in consequence of^this confusion, the South Kensington Museum is one of the most interesting places in London ; everyone who goes there finds something to interest him— the artist and the "working man," tlie arehteologist, and the mere gazer, the studious and the idle. In certain sections a more severe taste might have been exercised in the choice of objects exhibited ; but the ensemble is as varied and as rich as possible, and many of the exhibits are of great rarity and vaUie. On the first floor are the Kaphael cartoons, seven in number, lately at Hampton Court, the Sheepshanks' gallery of pictures, the Jones' collection, and the British Water- Colour collection. The Bethnal Green Museum, situated in the east of London, in a populous quarter, is affiliated to South Kensington. It contains an economic exhibition, in which are shown all animal or vegetable products which are used for food, or capable of industrial application ; as well as all modern objects of industrial art which have not been placed in the parent Museum. iU Bethnal Green, as at Kensington, the exhibits are furnished with tickets clearly explaining all details connected with them, even to giving their prices. The South Kensington Museum is illuminated with the electric light; it is open until 10 p.m. three times a week — ^londays, Tuesdays, and Saturdays. London possesses a great number of museums of a special nature, of which the principal are the ^luseum of Natural Histoi-y, transferred from the British Museum to Kensington, and the National Portrait Gallery, at Kensington ; the ^luseura of the College of Siu-geons, and the Soane Museum, in Lincoln's-Inn- Fields ; the last- named contains, amongst other valuable exhibits, twelve pictures by Hogarth, namely, eight of " The Rake's Progress," and four of " The Election." The Museum of Practical Geology is attached to the Koyal School of Mines in Piccadilly (Jermyn Street). The learned societies of London are very numerous, and some of them have acquired a just renown, owing to the works of their members. Thus the Royal Academy of Arts, the Royal Society, and the Royal Institution, not to mention others, have arrived at a position equivalent to the various sections of the French Institute. As is always the case, private enterprise has been the origin of their existence, and almost all of them have uprisen from very small beginnings. Many of these societies are sheltered under one roof in Burlington House, Piccadilly. Tiie facade, in the Italian style, consists of two wings and a central " pavilion," somewhat higher, and is enclosed by a handsome iron railing. Through the arch entrance is gained to the court-yard. At the end of the court is the former residence of the Earl of Burlington, which has been raised a storey, to make it harmonize with its new surroundings, and is occupied by the Royal Academy of Arts. Founded in 17G8, this society is composed of forty-two Academicians, twenty Associates, and six Associate engi-avers. At the head is a president, who is nominated for life, assisted by a council of ten, elected by the Academicians, whose appointments, like that of the president, must be approved by the Sovereign. By the terms of its charter of consti- tution, the Academy has the direction of a school of design, and must, every year, give, in May, an exhibition, open to all artists of merit. This exhibition is the London >V//o//. Since ISO!) the committee of the Royal Academy have organized, in January, THE WEST-END. 121 au exhibition of " old masters," the success of which is great. These canvases are lent bv private individuals, and, to judge by the number of the works exhibited, the private collections of England must be of inestimable value. There is a custom of the Academy, which ordains that every member, on his election, shall offer to the society one of his works, be it painting or sculpture. All these, known as " diploma works," are collected in a gallery open to the public, and form a most interesting collection. Amongst the most remarkable of the pictures is a portrait of George the Third by Reynolds, that of Gainsborough painted by himself, a peasant girl by Lawrence ; and, amongst the sculpture, Cupid and Psyche, the bust of Flaxman, by Nollekens, and that of West, by Chantrey. The palettes of Hogarth and Reynolds are preserved in the same gallery. The President of the Royal Academy is Sir Frederick Leighton, who succeeded Sir Francis Grant, a most distinguished portrait painter who had a specicdite for aristocratic portraits. The first, and the most illus- trious. President of the Royal Academy was Sir Joshua Reynolds, one of its founders. Amongst his colleagues we find the names of Gainsborough, West, Zuccarelli, Zofi'ani, Chambers, Bartolozzi, Cipriani, and Angelica Kauff'mann. The Royal Academy has reckoned amongst its numbers. Turner, Mul- ready, Wilkie, Landseer, Flaxman, Chantrey, Constable, Lawrence, Etty, Westmacott, Stanfield, &c. All the world is now acquainted with the names of Millais, Alma Tadema, Frith, Sir John Gilbert, Long, Hook, Richmond, and Poynter, whose works are as well known to foreigners as to Englishmen. Six other Societies are located in Burlington House : the Royal Society, the Society of Antiquaries, the Astronomical Society, the Chemical Society, the Geological Society, and the Linnean Society. The most important of all is the Royal Society— one of the oldest, moreover, and dates from 1663. It is the Academy of Sciences of England. Originally, it was established in the City: afterwards, it migrated to Somerset House, and thence to Burlington House. Amongst its most illustrious members we find Bayle, Newton, Faraday, Cook, Herschel, Davy, Franklin (who made the experiments with the lightning conductor), lU [ft?" NATURAL HISTORY MUSEUM. U-2 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. Cavendish, Sloane, Woodward, and Arljuthuot. On the list of honorary members are the names of D'Alembert, Bernouilli, Linne, Euler, Eutibn, Jussieu, and Voltaire. The lloyal Society has often been the subject of ridicule more or less lively on the part of writers whom one would have credited with more wisdom. Butler, in his poem of the " Elephant in the Moon," and Swift, in his description of Laputa, have ridiculed the Englisli Scientists in a way which fully justifies the words of Montesquieu : — "They run after wit and catch folly." Nothing could have been more unjust than these attacks, for the Royal Society, by its works on vaccination and electricity, its investigations of the courses uf the stars, and its experiments concerning light, has rendered the greatest services to humanity. The lloyal Society possesses a library rich in works of an exclusively scientific character, and some remarkable portraits of its illustrious members. The reports of the society, dating from 1G65, have been printed, and form a series of 160 quarto volumes. There is still preserved the sun-dial which the youthful Newton constructed upon the wall of his father's house, a telescope which he made for himself, and his mask in plaster, moulded by Roubiliac. The Society of Antiquaries, founded in 1573, dissolved by James I., no one knows why, could not obtain its charter until 1751. It has, nevertheless, rendered great services which have been somewhat tardily acknowledged, but which are none the less brilliant. To this society is due the restoration of the Chapter House of Westminster Abbey, which would have tumbled to pieces but for the exertions of the President, Earl Stanhope. The Astronomical Society only dates from 1820, and in its short career has proved its utility by its works, enshrined in thirty-eight volumes, which form its reports. The Linuean Society was, at first, a section of the Royal Society, from which it seceded in 1802. It is now very prosperous, and its important labours have placed it in the foremost rank of those societies which are more especially devoted to Botany aud Zoology. The library and its contents are celebrated. In 1829, the society purchased for £25,000 the collection that Linne had formed; and in 1832, the East India Company made the Linncans a present of a complete collection of Indian flora. Lastly, the Chemical Society, founded in 1841, for the encouragement of the study of chemistry, and the Geological Society, founded in 1807, though not of the importance of the societies we have mentioned above, occupy a very honourable position in the scientific world. Of relatively recent foundation, but very celebrated for the services it has rendered, and every day renders, is the Royal Institution, established in 1799 chiefly by the efforts of Count Rumford. The Royal Institution occupies spacious premises in Albemarle Street, a building designed by Vullianiy, presenting an imposing colonnade of the Corintliian order, resting on a stylobate, and rising to the whole height of the three storcycd edifice. Established witli a view to promote the application of science to industry, the Royal Institution, whose motto is " Illustmiis conimoda vit(e," gives a series of lectures, which are attended nut only by persons connected with industry and trade, but also and chiefly by a select public. The success of these lectures will be easily understood vhen we mention the names of the lecturers, Owen, Huxley, and Tyndall. THE WEST END. 123 It was in the laboratory of this Society that Davy fliscovered what he called the "metallic bases of earths," and where Faraday made his remarkable discoveries in electrical science. The Royal Institution possesses a splendid library, a theatre in which the lectures are delivered, a laboratory, and a museum of mineralogy. At the corner of Trafalgar Square, in Pall ^lall (East), we notice an elegant building, with a portico sustained by six Doric columns. This is the Eoyal College of BURLINGTON HOUSE. Physicians, founded in 1523, under Henry VIII., one of the nineteen educational or university bodies which possessed the right to bestow medical diplomas in England. The library of the College is most remarkable. In the Council Hall ("Censors' Room") are many busts and portraits of celebrated doctors: — Mayerne, King, Sydenham, RadclifFc, Sir Hans Sloane, Mead, Harvey — who discovered the circulation of the blood — Hunter, and others. Here also are preserved the anatomical preparations with which Harvey used to illustrate his course of lectures. To visit the College of Physicians it is necessary to be introduced by a member of the Society, to which belong most of the doctors in London. 124 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. Tlie lloyal Horticultural Society is justly celebrated for the splendid gardens which it possesses at Chiswick. Those at Kensington have been, since 1883, occupied by temporary constructions where annual exhibitions are held, the success of which is so great that they threaten to continue to infinity. The first was the "Fisheries" Exhibition, followed in 188i by a " Health " Exhibition, to which, in 1885, succeeded an "Inventions" Exhibition. In 188G there was an "Indian and Colonial" Exhibition. Two other Societies are located in the Regent's Park ; these are the Zoological and Botanical Societies. The latter, whose name clearly indicates its aims, has been (Mim^- y'//.„ UNIVERSITY COLLEGE. established since 1839, and its gardens occupy the space on which the Prince Regent designed to erect a palace — a project which was never realized. The gardens, admirably laid out, are surrounded by a palisade and thick hedges, which entirely defy the eyes of the curious ; this is an arrangement which meets with much favour in England, where every one likes privacy. The Conservatory, or Winter Garden, is large enough to contain 2,000 people. It is of iron and glass, very light, and ingeniously warmed and ventilated; it contains a collection of rare and remarkable plants. Open to the public by tickets issued by Fellovi's during the week, the gardens on Sundays are only frequented by the members of the Society and their friends. During the season the files are attended by the eVde of English society. Not far off arc the Gardens of the Zoological Society, which is constituted in the same manner as the two last-mentioned. There is the same intolerance and the same exclusiveness ; the public is never admitted without payment, and as for the Sundays, the members and their friends only arc admitted to gee the lions devour their sanguinary THE WEST-END. 125 repast of gory flesh, and the serpents torture and swallow, after crushing the bones of, inoflensive rabbits and guinea-pigs^of which the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals takes no account whatever. VI. PUBLIC INSTRUCTION. THE BOARD SCHOOLS. — THE PUBLIC SCHOOLS. THE LONDON UNIVERSITY. It is only within the last few years that the English Government has devoted its attention to public instruction, and even now there is no Minister charged with this duty. There is a section of the Privy Council, called the Committee of Council on Education, which undertakes the inspection of the primary schools only ; for the Act of 1870, the first and only one dealing with the subject, accepts the burthen of elementary instruction only. All that concerns higher grades is left to private enterprise — that is to sav, to schools and colleges, and to the Universities. Since 1870 there have been established, in every parish or borough, forming what is termed a " school district," one or several schools large enough to accommodate all the children. These are the Board Schools. Education is compulsory for all children over five years of age up to thirteen, and the parents who are guilty of any infraction of the law are liable to a fine. Gratuitous instruction is not given unless there is actual inability to pay ; their education is then chargeable to the rates by a special impost. These schools are placed under a committee named the School Board, elected by the ratepayers (tri-annually), and inspected by the officials appointed by the Committee of Council on Education. In 1881 there were 21,136 schools, attended by 3,850,000 scholars, and it has been calculated that the education of each pupil in the Board School costs about two pounds sterling annually. For fifteen years now the new system has been working, and has given excellent results ; the number of pupils, which has doubled since 1871, is increasing from year to year, in an ever advancing progression. The " secondary instruction " and higher education are quite free, and the State does not trouble itself in the matter. This question, like many others, has been left to private initiative, which performs wonders, it is true ; but the drawback is the high terms required at public schools, where instruction is very dear. In the beginning these schools, founded by rich private individuals or by Corporations, were absolutely gratuitous ; but by degrees they have been warped from their original direction. In almost all schools the pupils, with the exception of the foundation scholars, pay ; and instruction is dearer than in France. The system of lodging lads all in one building {casernement) is unknown in England ; they are accommodated at the houses of masters authorized to receive them. Ginerally there are ten or twelve in each house. There they take their meals together. 1-26 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. and prepare their tasks. The classes are taken in the school-house itself. Out of school hours the boys enjoy very great liberty, going and coming as they please, without being under the eyes of an usher — a pion, as the French call him. The advantages of this system are that the young Britons, when at school, are apprenticed to life; and at an age when the French youth would scarcely dare to venture into the streets by himself, the English boys know how to behave themselves, and assume, so to speak, responsibility for their acts. The inconvenience is that when the youths liave left Eton or Harrow, where they have learned little or nothing, they proceed to the Universities, where, to pass certain stipulated examinations — no matter what career they intend to adopt, except commerce— they arc constrained to follow, for six months, or a year, or more, the course of those professors whose speciality it is to prepare pupils for the examinations, and who are called " crammers " — a very expressive name indeed ! This is a contingency for which every one is prepared. The " cram- mer " is now — particularly since the institution of examinations for Govern- ment posts, and for admission to the military and naval colleges — regarded as the necessary complement of a college education. The respective advantages of the French and the English systems have often been discussed, and no one has i.MNiHiN iNivi;i:sriv. come nearer the solution of the ques- tion. The truth is that each nation has adopted the course which is best suited to its needs, and the spirit of the race; and to import the English method into France, or the French system into England, might produce deplorable results. As a matter of course, the greater part of the schools and colleges are in the provinces. The most celebrated public schools are those at Eton, near Windsor; Harrow, in the county of Middlesex, near London ; Rugby, in Warwickshire ; and Winchester, in Hampshire. London includes some schools which it is in contemplation to move to the outskirts of the metropolis— an excellent plan in the interests of the scholars. It is difficult to imagine a locality less suitable for a school than the centre of the city, where St. Paul's Schocl so long flourished (it is now situated in Kensington), and where Christ's Hospital and tlie ]\Icreliant Tailors' Schools still exist— for the present. The last-mentioned derives its name from the Corporation which instituted it. The University of London is not, like the University of Oxford and Cambridge, a scholastic institution. It is a simple committee of examiners, nominated and salaried by the Government, and established only since 1837. It consists of a chancellor, a THE west^ekd: \: 127 senate — that is to say^ of the Examinations Committee — and an administrative body. There are two sessions each year, at the termination of which the candidates who have satisfied the examiners obtain degrees and lionours.- The Examination Hall of the University, behind Burlington House, has a frontage in Burlington Gardens — an elegant fayade, embellished by statues and flanked by two square turrets. VII. THE PARKS. — THE SQUARES. THE EMBANKMEXTS. THE BRIDGES. Nothing strikes the stranger more than the extensive parks situated in various districts,^ even in the centre of London, by which the air is purified and renewed. It is to the number of its open spaces, parks, squares, and promenades, that Loudon partly owes its salubrity; the English are aware of this, so they do not grudge the funds necessary for the maintenance of these gardens, which are admirably kept, and on which the significant name of "the Lungs of London" has been bestowed. See with Avhat jealous care the people protect the unoccupied spaces, jihuited with trees, against the encroachments of the speculative builder, ^\ho would, with pleasui'c, convert Hyde Park into streets of houses, if the vigilance of the citizens and the authorities did not prevent him. There are in London itself nine large i)arks, of which the most beautiful — Hyde Park, Kensington Gardens, the Green Park, St. James's Park, and Regent's Park — are situated in the aristocratic quarters of the metropolis, in the West End ; the others are scattered in the various populous districts lying to the east, north, and south. Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens, although separated by a railing and ditch, are virtually one park, and have a superficial area of about G40 acres. The entrance gates are ten in number, of which the chief are Hyde Pai-k Comer (Piccadilly), and the Marble Arch (Oxford Street). The former is an elegant colonnade, embellished with bas-reliefs, copied from the Parthenon, and affords three carriage ways, with two entrances for pedestrians; the latter, as its name indicates, consists of a triumphal arch of white marble, which was formerly the entrance to Buckingham Palace, but which was removed to Hyde Park in 1851, when the new portion of the Palace was built. Entering the Park at the " Corner," we find ourselves approaching a colossal statue in bronze, " erected by the ladies of England, to Arthur, Duke of Wellington, and his brave companions in arms." This statue, on which is bestowed the name of Achilles, is a copy of one of those two at IMonte Cavallo, in Home, known as Castor and Pollux. The attitude of the figure, which is protecting itself with its shield, in no way reminds us of the impetuous Achilles; but a circumstauce which has ahvays given rise to hostile criticism, is the light clothing of the hero, for English modesty does not aceommt)date itself to clothing which consists oulv of a "fig-leaf" and a buckler! And to say that "the ladies of England" put up such a very lightly-clad statue ! 128 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. MARBLK ARCH. At the right of this Achilles, and ou the other side of the drive, a statue of Lord Byron, by Mr. Belt, has recently been erected. This not very remarkable work is, however, celebrated iu consequence of the lengthened law proceedings which the sculptor instituted against one of his fellows, who accused him of not having executed the works which he never- theless signed. Private carriages only have the right to enter Hyde Park, which is in- terdicted to all " hackney coaches." The vulgar are permitted to promenade therein, but they cannot enter in cabs. Halte la. And kindly - natured John Bull permits himself to be put down at the gate of the Park which he keeps up with his taxes, to the great satisfaction of his lords and masters. It is above all times during the "season," which lasts from the beginning of May to the end of July, that Hyde Park presents the most entrancing appearance. The .trees in full leaf, the flower-beds, admirably kept with that skilfulness and artistic taste of which the English gardeners seem to possess the secret, perfume the air, which is almost always stirred by a gentle breeze ; for even in the hottest weather there are sufficiently formidable puffs of cool wind. About uine o'clock in the morn- ing, the Ride— " Rotten Row" — begins to look animated. At this hour there are few ladies on horse- back, the men whom we meet are generally merchants, bankers, and lawyers, who take a ride before going to business. Between mid-day and two o'clock — the lunch hour — Rotten Row is filled with a crowd of cavaliers and ladies who are of the elite of society. For two liours there is a perpetual stream of equestrians passing and repassing, exchanging a few words with the pedestrians — ladies and gentlemen — who are leaning on the railings. The women in bright costumes, the men in niorning-drcss, flower iu button-hole, and wearing single eye-glasses. Everybody comes and goes, stops, proceeds, sits down in the chairs which line the promenade ; sometimes there is a general excitement, all heads are turned in the same direction, the men remove their hats, the ladies, generally young and pretty. HYDE PARK CORNER. THE WEST-EXD. 129 with that somewhat haughty English beauty, assume their most winning smiles ; the Prince is passing on horseback, smiling, affable. Occasionally, but rarely, the Queen, who alone has the right to traverse the ride in a carriage, passes. The equestrians of both sexes then form up behind her carriage, and compose an escort most imposing in its simplicity, which strikingly testifies to the profound respect with which the English people regard their Sovereign. Deserted in the middle of the day, the Park, or rather one avenue of the Park, THE SERPENTINE, HYDE PARK. begins to fill again about five o'clock. Then there is an interminable procession of caiTiagcs, luxurious equipages with armorial bearings on the panels, beautifully horsed, which ])ass and repass up and down the drive in four lines. As in the morning, in the How, the side walks are filled with an elegantly dressed crowd ; it is the rendezvous of high-life, the fine fleur of the aristocracy. The brilliant toilettes, the colours of the liveries, the panels of the carriages flashing back the sun-light, the gay hues of the flowers, which contrast brightly with the more sombre verdure of the trees, all form a spectacle unique of its kind, and which has no equal in any other capital in Europe. 17 130 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. One feels one's self in the midst of a special class of people. This luxury, which is displayed on all sides, the cxclusivencss of this " society," which, even in a public garden, manages to isolate itself— and, on the other hand, the respectful timidity, perhaps ; but, certainly, the sullenly hostile feeling of the crowd, which, posted in the opposite alleys, gives its opinion, not always flattering, upon the appearance of someone who is more favoured by fortune than by nature, are for the foreigner as a peep into a new world, or, THE SERPENTINE, KENSINGTON GARDENS. l)etter still, like a vision of the past, as of the time of Louis the XIV. en redinyoie, and with the chapcau Rembraiult. A fine piece of water, the Serpentine, spanned by a pretty stone bridge, is covered with pleasure boats, and resounds with the joyous cries of a numljcr of swans and ducks. Witli that love of nature, innate with the Anglo-Saxon, the English have managed to preserve in Hyde Park the country characteristics which are the great attractions of the London Parks. The sheep, the farm, and the cows complete the illusion. One might fancy one's self a hundred miles from the Metropolis. By-thc-way, the presence of a powder magazine in the very centre of the Park, seems a measure of doubtful utility, and may cause a catastrophe the very idea of THE WEST-END. 131 It is by the magazine that the "meets" of the Four-in- which makes one shudder. Hand Club, and the Coach- ing Club are held during the season. On these oecasions, it is by no means unusual to see twenty-five or thirty " drags " whose splendid teams could not be matched in Europe. As for the skill of the drivers, it is simply marvellous ! Hyde Park has always been the favourite pro- menade of the English aristocracy, and owes its popularity to its beauty, and its admirable situation in the centre of the Metropolis. In the last century, Lord Chesterfield, celebrated by the famous letters he addressed to his son, was one of the most regular habitues of Hyde Park. One of his friends, surprised to see him venturing out in his then bad state of health, could not help telling him so. " My dear fellow," replied the witty nobleman, " I am rehears- ing my funeral." The monument erected to the memory of the late Prince Consort, the Albert Memorial, is in Kensington Gardens, opposite the Albert Hall. It is a species of spire, about IfiO feet high, reposing on four granite columns, and covering a colossal gilded statue of Prince Albert. CASCADE, KENSINGTON GARDENS. This statue, which possesses no artistic value, spoils the monu- ment, and one instinctively looks for a dial in this enormous gilt mass, which resembles a clock- figui-e. The statue is placed on a base of 130 feet, ornamented with bas-reliefs of remarkable execution, representing scientists, poets, and artists of all nations and periods, and four ALBEiiT MEMORIAL. allcgcrical groups — Commerce, Industry, Agriculture, and Engineering. Finally, at the bottom of the steps which lead to the monument, we find four other groups in 132 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. marble, representing Europe, Asia, Africa, and America. The mosaics, the gilding, the onyx, with which the INIemorial is decorated, make it one of the most beautiful objects in London, as much by the richness of ornamentation as by the taste and elegance which distinguish it. The statue only is out of harmony with the rest, and destroys the ensemble. Perhaps some day one more in keeping with tlie present style of the monument may be substituted. Besides, London does not shine in statuary. There are few statues in puljlic places which are not ridiculed by the English themselves, and which do not cause the stranger ST. JAMESS PARK. astonishment. The most terrible of all, without exception, was the stupendous statue of the great Duke of Wellington, with his triangular hat, draped in a cloak of similar triangular form, bestriding a horse cut out with a hatchet. This statue has now been removed from the triumphal arcli of the entrance of the Green Park, which served as the pedestal, aiul has been transported to the camp at Aldershot. A smaller one might be nuide more worthy of Loudon and Wellington. Tlie Green Park, at the south of Piccadilly, which it borders for more than half a mile, offers nothing particular to our notice. It is chiefly frequented by workmen out of work, and idlers, who come thitlicr and picnic with their children. THE WEST-END. 133 It was in the Green Park that Charles II., accompanied by two gentlemen of his household, met his brother, the Duke of York, attended by a numerous escort. Tlie Duke inquired of the King whether he were not afraid to walk about almost unattended. "Did not he incur any danger?" "None," replied Charles, "for where is the Englishman who would kill me to make you king ? " St. James's Park, which is next to the Green Park, from which it is separated by a wide avenue called the Mall, extends from Buckingham Palace to the Horse Guards. St. James's Palace, and ^Marlborough House, the residence of the Prince of Wales, as well as the greater number of the public offices, overlook this park. Herein arc some beautiful trees and an extensive lake, in which numbers of ducks disport themselves, — ^ PIECE OF WATER IN HYDE PARK. and arc watched for hours b}' the idlers. A reminiscence connected with these "volatiles" — St. Evremond, who had taken refuge in England, was appointed by Charles II. custodian of the water-fowl in St. James's Park. Another reminiscence — the celebrated gardener, Le Notre, partly ;,.• designed the gardens by order of the same Charles, who took pleasure in planting and cultivating the trees and flowers himself. !Much more extensive than either of the parks just named is Regent's Park, situated in the northern side of the metropolis at the top of Portland Place, which is a con- tinuation of Regent Street. It was laid out by Nash, under the orders of George IV., who contemplated erecting a palace there, and it was not opened to the public until 1838. After Hyde Park, it is the largest and prettiest in London ; it encloses tlic Botanical and the Zoological Gardens, as well as many private residences. A few years hence, when the trees have grown bigger, Regent's Park will l;e perhaps as beautiful as its celebrated rival, Hyde Park. The south-western portion, whore the fine Y-shaped lake is, is the prettiest and the most wooded, and gives an idea of 134 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. what this park, now so unjustly neglected by the upper classes, -will in time become. On the other hand, open-air preachers are not wanting, and they are surrounded every Sunday by a considerable crowd, which sings psalms and religious chants in chorus. There is something shocking in the sight of these men, who have no recognised position, installing themselves under a tree and pouring forth an inexhaustible torrent of language, interspersed with quotations from Scripture, to the amazement of the vulgar. Here are four or five, within a little distance of each other, talking of Hell and Heaven to the crowds which encircle them. Is this religion ? or is it business? One cannot exactly say. EngUsh people tell you that these unlicensed preachers carry the Divine words to people whom the regular clergy cannot reach. It is impossible to more strongly characterize the supineness or powerlessness of the said The other parks of London are — Finsbury Park in the north, Victoria Park in the east, and, south of the Thames, Kennington, Southwark, and Battersea Parks. The last-named, which was not completed till 1858, is one of the most remarkable ornamental featm-cs effected in London during the last thirty years, and encloses a sub-tropical garden, the aspect of which during August and September is one of great beauty. To succeed in acclimatizing tropical plants under a London sky is surely the triumph of horticultural art. The word " square " is not appropriate to the open spaces (" places ") of London, which, for the most part, have diverse forms. Whether it be trapezoid, like Trafalgar Square ; circular, like Trinity Square ; oval, like Tolmer's Square ; or triangular, like Ampthill Square — every open space in London is a •' square " ! Most of these " squares " are planted with trees, and form nice gardens, very well kept, veritable oases of verdure in a desert of bricks; only— there is always an "only" —the pubHc are rigorously excluded, and none but the occupiers of the houses in the square arc permitted to enter. With the sole exception of Leicester Square, all the London open spaces are, so far as the public is concerned, a kind of Promised Land, which one may walk round and look at, but cannot enter. The best known square, and the one which more nearly approaches what the French call :i "place," is Trafalgar Square. Sir Robert Peel, who probably had not been abroad, declared that it was the finest "place" in Europe; but the houses which surround it, the statues it contains, the fountains and their miserable jets, with the stone-work by wliich tlicy are embellished, are all of a ghastly mediocrity. It is bounded on the north by the National Gallery, on the east by an hotel which FOUNTAIN, regent's PARK. THE WEST-END. 135 includes four or five liouses, on the west by a club-house^ and is open on the south side, where several streets converge ; amongst others, Whitehall, at the end of wliicli are the Houses of Parliament. Trafolgar Square is particularly remarkable for its position, almost in the mathematical centre of the town, and a few paces from Charing Cross. In the middle of the square rises the Nelson Column, on the top of which the too sensitive friend of Lady Hamilton, is impaled upon a coil of rope, the effect of which from behind is as singular as unexpected. At tlie base of the monument are four lions in bronze, the work of Laudsecr; and four bas-reliefs, representing the battles of the Nile, St. Vincent, and Copenhagen, and the death of Nelson, atone for the insufficiency of the TRAFALGAR SQUARE. rest. At each corner of the square is a pedestal : tln-cc of these are occupied, one by an equestrian st-atue of George IV., the other two by General Haveloek and Sir Charles Napier; the fourtli pedestal, deprived of its statue, looks quite forlorn, wliile waiting for an occupant. Tlie conqueror of Tel-el-Kebir has perhaps a chance! AVho can tell':' Lastly, we need only mention the statue of Charles I., by Le Scnr, which occupies a place by itself at the end of Whitehall, and two fountains placed behind t1ie Nelson Column. Not far from licrc is Leicester Square, in wliich the Alhambra is situated — a reconstruction since the fire in 1882. This square, which for a long time was the !Montfaucon of all the dogs and cats of the metropolis, has for the last twelve years been transformed into an elegant garden — open to the public this time — with statues and flower-beds. ^Ir. Albert Grant, a naturalized German, at liis own cost, executed all 136 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. DUKE OF YORK S COLUMN. the work, and generously and unconditionally made a present to the metropolis of the ground which he had purchased. The other squares, distributed pretty equally in all districts, l)clong to the genus ferme. The principal are Grosvenor Square, Berkeley Square, St. James's Square, Belgrave Square, and Cavendish Square, which are inhabited by the upper classes of the aristocracy. There are in the Bloomsbury district a number of fine squares, which would occupy too much space to detail ; the largest of all is perhaps the space known as Lineoln's- Inn-Fields, situated in the legal dis- trict, between Holljorn and the Strand. After the parks and the few squares open to the publJb, the most agreeable promenades are the Emljankmcnts, which now skirt tlic Tliaracs. To obtain an idea of what the Thames shore was formerly, we have only to stand on any of the bridges between Charing Cross Viaduct and London Bridge, and glance at the right bank of the river. There used to be on both sides of the Thames nameless buildings. depots of merchandise, and wharves, built on piles, so as to permit the lighters and barges to load or unload direct — an operation which can now be only performed at one side, above Blackfriars. To these wharves we descended by narrow, dirty and winding ways, wherein from the smell of the filth which then swept down the river were exhaled pestilential odours. Thanks ];.mif,i:.ka takk. to the cflbrts of the Board of Works and its engineer, Sir Joseph Bazalgette, the three superb quays which now border the river have been constructed within twenty years, and are certainly worth the .€6,500,000 sterling, which they cost. THE WEST- END. 137 The Victoria Embankment, on the left bank, extends from Westminster Bridge to Blackfriars, and is about a mile and a quarter in length. It is a splendid road, thirty yards wide, adorned with gardens to which the public are admitted, and bordered in certain places by some fine houses. Somerset House, near Waterloo Bridge, displays its river frontage on the Embankment. Some statues and the Cleopatra Needle add to the beauty of this drive, which the English justly consider the most beautiful thoroughfare in the metropolis, and the appearance of "--■-,"- -'vr— -—--■• -.-^ , ■n'hich, from certain points of view, is remarkably fine. Why should it be per- mitted that this splendid avenue leading to the City — Avhither no one goes, and whence no one comes at night — should be at dark a sort of cut-throat thoroughfare, whereon it is scarce prudent to venture, according to the testimony of the police themselves ? It is no use to deny it. In July, 1883, a clergyman was knocked down and robbed by a band of roughs, who followed him from the City. A policeman had warned him ; but, as his beat led him in the direction opposite to that followed by the clergyman, the latter, who, it seems, could not retrace his steps, was set upon and robbed a few paces farther on ! The Chelsea Embankment, also on the i 9& ALBERT EMBANKMENT. 18 138 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. left bank, extends from tlic Albert Suspension Bridge to Chelsea Suspension Bridge, past Chelsea Hospital. It is the shortest and least important of the Embankments. It is continued, by the Grosvenor Road, along the river to Westminster. The Albert Embankment is on the right bank of the Thames. It commences at Westminster Bridge and is continued to Vauxhall Bridge. St. Thomas's Hospital and the Lambeth Archiepiscopal Palace, the residence of the Primate, overlook this embank- ment, which borders one of the most populous quarters of London. From the Albert Embankment a splendid view of the Houses of Parliament is obtained. Between London Bridge and Hammersmith the Thames is spanned by eighteen bridges, five of which arc railway viaducts, the otliers are for ordinary traffic. London Bridge, begun in 1825 and completed in IS,*]!, on the designs of Rennic, is 834 feet long and 45 feet wide. It is of gi'anite, and has five semi-elliptical arches, of which the centre one has a span of 137 feet. This is the most frequented bridge in the metropolis ; it has been estimated that in the twenty-four hours more than 20,000 vehicles and about 110,000 pedestrians cross it. At certain times — particularly between nine and ten a.m., and between four and six p.m., it is almost impossible to cross it, so crowded is it. Close by is the (\annon Street Railway P>ridgc, which is about the same length as London Bridge. Built entirely of iron, this viaduct rests on sixteen cylindrical pillars, forming five spans, of which the longest is 50 yards, and the shortest 10 yards. Five lines arc laid across it. Then comes Southwark Bridge — a very remarkable one — consisting of three iron arches of wonderful boldness; the opening of the centre one being 216 feet span, and the others IS',) feet each. The Vendome Column in Paris is only 129 feet A I'. ;.' " ri iiiiiidiipf^'i "ill ini 1 " fi^k''\ ■-~tr---^=^-S--- :-' _:„.j .'. ^i*f/z^v TllE BllIDCES. 1. Loi) Jon Bridge.- 2. Canuou Street Briilge. — 3. Waterloo Bridge. — 4. Clielsea Bridge.— 5. Battersea Bridge. 6. Westminster Bridge. — 7. Lambeth Bridge. — 8. Blackfriars Bridge. 140 lo:ndon and its environs. high, and coukl therefore easily lie across the smallest of the arches of this bridge, which, at the time of its erection (1815-19) was justly regarded as a marvel of engineering skill. Blackfriars Bridge, which comes next (with the Railway Bridge of the Chatham and Dover Line on the east side of it), dates from 1869. It is 1144i feet long and G7i feet wide, supported by five iron arches sustained by granite buttresses. From the centre of the Ijridge a superb view of St. Paul's is obtained : the enormous mass of the cathedral and its proportions have a fine effect. The immediate proximity of the horrible > railway bridge — now supplemented with another — spoils the view and destroys the appearance of Blackfriars Bridge, the elegance of which is remarkable. Waterloo Bridge is the handsomest in London. Though less wide than London Bridge, it is nearly twice as long (1,243 feet), supported by nine semi-elliptical arches of 108 feet span and 31 feet high. It is built of Scotch granite, and the piers are each ornamented by two Doric columns, supporting an entablature of Grecian design, above which is a balustrade. John Rennie, the designer and builder of the London and Southwark bridges, constructed Waterloo Bridge, the erection of which occupied from October lltli, 1811, to June, 1817. It was opened on the 18th of that month, the anniversary of the Battle of Waterloo, by the Prince Regent— afterwards George IV. If from the centre of this bridge we turn towards the Strand, we have one of the most beautiful views of London that it is possible to imagine. On the right is the City, dominated l)y St. Paul's. In front is Somerset House; on the left the pinnacles of the^ Houses of Parliament, and the towers of Westminster Abbey, stand out clearly ; while tlio river, wliicli here describes a curve, runs rapidly between the Embankment — trim and decked with gardens — on one side, and the sombre warehouses and factories on the THE WEST-END. 141 other, the high chimneys vomiting black clouds of smoke, presenting a violent contrast to the monuments of the opposite bank. A little higher up we find still another railway viaduct — the Charing Cross Bridge, which resembles that at Cannon Street, for both bridges belong to the same Company. This bridge is wide enough for four lines of rails, and there is room enough for STATUES OF FRANKLIN, LORD CLYDE, AND SHAKESPEARE. GUARDS' MEMORIAL, AND FOUNTAIN IN PARK LANE. pedestrians on the side walks. An addition to this bridge is now being made on the ■west side. Westminster Bridge crosses from the Clock Tower of the Houses of Parliament and unites Westminster with Lambeth. It is a pretty structure, 75 feet wide, and 1,044 feet long, but the elegance is obtained by the sacrifice of solidity : it is supported by seven iron arches, perfectly elliptical, and most graceful in their eflect. The other bridges above Westminster arc less noteworthy, with the exception of the Albert Suspension Bridge, which unites Chelsea with Battersea. We may also mention the Battersea (Railway) Bridge, wliicli is said to Ije the widest in the world ; and the Chelsea (Suspension) or Victoria Bridge close to it. 142 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. VIII. DOMESTIC ARCHITECTURE. PRIVATE MANSIONS. — THE " HOME." FAMILY LIFE. As everyone knowSj the Englislmian likes to isolate himself. So life in apartments ■ — "flats" — is almost unknown in London, where every family has its own house. This accounts for the tremendous extent of this metropolis, which is not, like Paris, confined within a girdle of fortifications, and obliged to pile storey on storey to make roojn for its ever-increasing population. The middle-class English house generally includes a basement, a ground-floor, and two, sometimes three, rarely four, storeys. It is surrounded by a little fosse, which permits light to enter the basement, and which serves as the servant's entrance : a railing protects this area. The coal-cellars are placed beneath the pavement, which is pierced Ijy round openings, by which the coal is shot into the cellars, and closed Ijy a plate of iron, very slippery and very dangerous in frosty weather : sometimes the plate is not properly adjusted, and gives way beneath the tread, a very excellent method of In'caking one's legs ! As regai-ds the exterior of English houses, the architects have not troubled themselves with much novelty of design ; a cube of masonry pierced by rectangular holes without mouldings or ornament of any description — that is, /*«/• excellence, the house which every Englishman, by reason of some mild, inoffensive kind of madness or mania, calls his castle ! Besides, as these houses are built by the dozen — even by the gross — it is not uncommon to traverse some miles between two ranges of houses built upon tlic same plan without anything to distinguish them from the others. If cnnid was one day born of uniformity it is evident that in London it must have first seen the light. With a view to break the monotony of the appearance of the houses, some people initiated an idea which was speedily imitated, which consisted in painting the fronts of their dwellings red, yellow, brovvn, or even a delicate blue. When the houses are detached the result is inott'ensive ; but when they are close togetlier, as in Regent Street for instance, where they form an unbroken frontage or colonnade in architectural unison, nothing can be funnier than to see half the front white, and the other half — which is inhabited by an individual of different tastes from his neighbour — covered with a most staring red tint. In newly-built districts some attempt has been made to improve the aspect of the houses ; and the fashions of these various buildings may serve to fix the date of each by the styles adopted. Waterloo Place, Regent Street, Portland Place, and the districts near the Regent's Park, recall the first years of this century by their Greco-Roman colonnades, after the styles of Nash and Decimus Burton. This mode after lasting for fifty years disappeared in favour of the Gothic, which in its turn has been dethroned by the Queen Anne style, which is at present all the rage in the districts inhabited by the "upper middle" classes. In these localities we see nothing but red-brick houses with pointed roofs and gables, the narrow and inconvenient entry being a vaulted porch at right angles to the frontage. Kensington offers many examples of these whimsical constructions, whose windows glazed with tiny panes of glass, set in THE WEST-END. 143 deep wooden frames, only permit the entry of a small quantity of light, as if the fogs did not already sufficiently intercept the pale rays of the sun which reach England. Some princely liahitations, the mansions of the nobility or financiers, are exceptions to the general rule, and deserve special mention. The majority of these are situated at the West-End, and chiefly in the vicinity of the Parks. There are in Piccadilly, Devonshire House, the mansion of the Duke of Devonshire — much more deserving of HANOVEH TEIilJACE. notice for its fine gardens than for its own aspect ; Bath House (No. 82) belongs to Lord Ashburnham, one of the members of the great Baring family, the celebrated bankers of world-wide celebrity; the mansion of the Rothschilds (No. 146), looking upon Hyde Park, and, finally, Apsley House, the residence of the Duke of Wellington, at the Park Gate. In Park Lane, the thoroughfare which borders Hyde Park on the East — of which one side only is occupied by houses — we remark Dorchester House, a very elegant building in the Italian style, and one of the most beautiful in London ; :uid a little higher up is the mansion of the Duke of Westminster, the entrance to which, beneath a handsome colonnade, is in Grosvenor Street. 144 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. Laiisdowiie House in Berkeley Square ; Stafford House, belonging to the Duke of Sutherland, in one of the Courts of St. James's Palace; and Bridgewater House, whose beautiful fa9ade faces the (ireen Park, are remarkable for their appearance, their galleries of paintings, and collections of " objects of art " of priceless value. Amongst the historical mansions there are two which can by no means be passed in silence. The first, situated in South Audley Street, is the mansion of the celebrated Lord Cliesterfield, whose rooms have been preserved in the same state as he described them, but which can only be visited with a special order from the present owner. The second is Holland House, picturesquely situated in a beautiful park to the West of Kensington. Tlicvc died Addison, who had married the widowed Countess of Warwick. The house was HOLLAND HOUSE. purchased afterwards by Henry Fox, father of the celebrated Charles James Fox, who subsequently became Lord Holland. From 1820 to 1840 the literary assemblies of Lady Holland acquired universal celebrity, and Macaulay, one of the intimates there, mentions amongst those who frequented it, Talleyrand, Lord Melbourne, Byron, Campbell, Lord John Russell, Hallam, Sydney Smith, and many other persons illustrious in the world of art and letters. Holland House is now shorn of its splendour, tiie park has already been cut up, and in the near future nothing but a memory of Holland House will remain. Let us now enter into an English house and see the " home." To judge dispas- .sionatcly of it, we must not penetrate either into the mansion of the millionaire, or into tlie cottage of the poor ; the house of the doctor, the barrister, or the City merchant, will eithei- of them suffice for us. Such we may find everywhere, in the centre of London as n\ the suburl)s inhabited by the upper middle class, at Ilampstead, Kilburn, IMaida Vale in the North, and Blackheath, Sydenham, and Norwood in the south. The interior THE WEST-END. 145 arrangements vary but little — a hall with the staircase beyondj a clining--roora and one or two other rooms opening from this entrance hall. That is the ground floor. The dining-room, usually hung with pictures, is of good size, and simply furnished with a side-board supporting a glass ; a table, chairs, and easy chairs of mahogany, and nearly always covered with leather. The massive and heavy pieces of furniture have an appearance of solidity, in harmony with the somewhat severe aspect of the house; they are large and comfortable, but they would scarcely suit Parisian apartments, in which space is so parsimoniously measured. A r ^ I. K Y H o r ^ i; , Are you fond of carpets ? They are laid every wliere. From the staircase to the drawing-room ; from the kitchen to the nursery — the flooring disappears under the oil-cloth, the Turkey or Persian carpet, or the simple drugget, according to the taste and means of the proprietor. On the other hand, the hangings, curtains, and portiires are not numerous even in the sitting rooms, which are invariably situated on the first floor. The drawing-room is divided into two rooms, the smaller of which is the boudoir of the lady of the house. By opening or shutting the large folding doors, one can have two rooms, or one at pleasure. The furniture of this — the most carefully kept apartment of all — is often of walnut-wood, the most favoured in England, and covered with silk, damask, or rep. For some years, now, the fashion has existed for subdued colours — green tones or old gold, flowered papers, plush frames. The walls arc hung with pictures, or embellished with old or imitation faience, water-colour 19 146 LONDON AND ITS ENVIKONS. sketches, plates, and vases, painted by the mistress of the house and her daughters. The Enghsh woman cau decorate her house better than she can manage it. On all sides, on little tables or etayeres, disposed with premeditated disorder— articles past which it is somHimes difficult to make one's way— are statuettes in porcelain, bronzes, mcknacks, English, French, and German books and reviews, for the English are tremendous readers ! They also cultivate music, and the grand piano, which extends across the corner of the room, encumbered with musical scores, sentimental romances, and ballads, such us our fatlicrs loved, testifies to the fondness of tlic 3'higlish for music and singing. h great many young ladies, now-a-days, relin(iuis]i the piano for the violin, mIiIcIi lias lately become the fashionable instrument. On Sundays, sacred music, vocal and instrumental, replaces, in most English houses, the operatic melodies and the "profane" ballads, which arc only permitted on week-days. Tlie bed-rooms occupy the second storey. They are simjily and even sparsely furnished. An iron bedstead, a wardrobe with three doors, and a com])lcte and extensive washing-sttind, accompany a few chairs, a carpet, a table, and that is all. The bed-room in England is a necessity ; it is not, as in France, a soft-lined nest, a delicious place of retreat in tlic long winter evenings; and where, with curtains drawn, the feet on the andirons, reclining in a luxurious chair, one nuiy resign one's self to sweet confidonces or THE WEST-END. 147 delightful reveries. In a word, the English apartment is, as its name indicates, a bed- room ; one sleeps, but one does not live there. Finally, in the upper storeys are situated the servants' rooms and the nursery. There is, in the latter apartment, the least possible amount of furnitui-e, but rocking-hoi'se, chamber gymnasium, toys, and chairs of well-proved solidity, which serve, in turns, for " castles" or "railways" for the joyous children who, up there, enjoy full liberty under the watchful eyes of the nursery-maid. When the children grow a little older, she gives place to the nursery governess, who commences to educate them, and teaches them to read, until the time when she is herself succeeded by the governess. From that time the nursery is transformed into the schoolroom, and the wooden horse is replaced by lesson-books. It, of course, often happens that nursery and schoolroom exist sinud- tancously in the same liousc. The kitchen and " offices " occupy the basement, in which the butler or the cook reigns supreme. There is in the English domestic arrangements a hierarchy, which is strictly observed. The functions of each servant are clearly defined ; and the cook would rather cut herself limb from limb than open the street door to a visitor — a duty which appertains to the housemaid. The latter, on her part, would not boil an egg, although the whole household were starving ! In noblemen's establishments, this amounts almost to a regular etiquette, and, to get an idea of it, one must read English novels or study the comic papers, whose witticisms on the subject are inexhaustible. In families wlicrc there is no butler, the housemaid waits at table — by no means a sinecure, for meals arc 148 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. S &f;f^^^^l^!-^'^ id r frequent ; and tlie English are more difficult to please in the way in which their meals are served than in the preparation of them. Without repeating Talleyrand's joke respecting the one sauce, and the many religions of the English, we may nevertheless affirm that the English cooking entirely lacks variety. But it possesses the advantage of heino- wholesome, and the transformations which Continental cooks effect in one and the same dish, by disguising it under more or less curious names, is rendered impossible. Soup, roast or boiled meat, fish, vegetables, puddings, pies, and fruit tarts, are the Alpha and Omega- of the national cookery, which is not complicated, and yet which it is difficult to find well per- formed — so little taste have the English housekeepers for the art of Vatel. From what, by tlie way, arises the fixed French idea that the English like their meat raw ? Nothing can be less accurate; for it is they, on the contrary, who are always complaining, when on the Continent, that the meat is not sufficiently cooked. Certainly it is a grave error to offer an Englishman very un- derdone meat with the idea that thereby you are pleasing him; and Frenchmen would do well to ponder this, before DRAWING-ROOM, DORCHESTER HOUSE, inviting their friends across the in Channel to dinner. Rtvenons aux repas. The first is breakfast, which takes place between eight and ten the morning, at which all the members of the family, except the very young children, asscml)le, before the departure of their father for his business. Atone or two o'clock is luncheon, which is the children's dinner. At this meal the mother of the family presides in those middle-class families which wc have selected as our type of modern English life. Tea is served at five o'clock — a friendly repast at which visitors frequently assist. But it is for the dinner at seven or eight o'clock that all the luxuriance and show is reserved. Paferfamilifis, on his return froui tlie City, from his chambers, or from THE WEST-END. un the official world, puts on his evening dress ; his wife and elder children being all in regulation toilettes. They proceed to the dining-room, where the napcry is bewil- dcringly white, the glasses scintillating, the silver polished to a pitch of brightness unparalleled ; the flowers on the table give it a festive appearance, an air of prosperity, of comfort, under the bright light of the lamps or the gas. Conversation proceeds in calm tones, the voices are always at the same diapason ; no loudness, no bursts of laughter, no quick repartees are launched across the table from one to another. Every one listens to whomsoever is speaking, and answers are made in measured tones, without any noisy declamation. English people have no idea of the little pleasant " touch and go" butterfly chit-chat which flutters about every subject, but rests on none, as the French have. This kind of conversation is too much for the Britisher; it worries him; but when the conversation becomes fixed upon a subject — no matter whether it be literature, art, or polities, he proves himself a person of original thought, well- informed, and possessed of that kind of cool wit, of a somewhat pungent nature, which is not without its charm, and is called " humour " ! After dinner the men proceed to the smoking-room, and afterwards rejoin the ladies in the drawing-room, where the evening is spent. Etiquette, concerning which the English are very punctilious, and the long distances which they have to traverse, render evening visits rare except amongst intimate friends. The ladies pay their calls during the day, between four and six o'clock upon week days. Sunday has a tendency to become, amongst certain classes of Society — artistic and literary circles — a day for unceremonious n'lniions. Ou that day each individual calls, chats a little, goes away, or remains to dinner, according to the degree of intimacy he enjoys. In the evening there may be music — not sacred music — to the great scaiulal of the Philistines, as the Puritans of the lower middle- class are called, who are rigid observers of the Sabbath, and look upon the opening of Museums on the Lord's Day as a sacrilege. In fine, the English middle-class life is, as one sees it, calm and smooth — even monotonous. The unforeseen has no share, or very little share, in it. Parties to the theatre and dinners are aff'airs meditated and prepared a long time in advance. Once he returns home, the Englishman never goes out again till morning, unless he is absolutely obliged to do so ; as for the promenade pure and simple, it is very much like the " chit-chat " — he has no idea of it ; he goes out or he walks, he does not " promenade." There is no exact equivalent in English for the verb promener. IX. THK THEATRES : COVENT GAKDEX. — DRURY LANE. HER MAJESTY's THEATRE. THE LYCEUM. THE ENGLISH DRAMATISTS. FRENCH PIECES. THE MUSIC HALLS. — MADAME TUSSAUD's WAX-WORKS. Forty theatres contend every night for the favours of the London public, which is very fond of theatrical and other performances, and quite an amateur in respect of the lao LON'DON AND ITS ENVIRONS. great melodrainas wherein Virtue triumplis and Vice is punished, according to the good old-fashioned rule. These theatres are generally of good size, and the best places — the stalls and dress- circle — everywhere excellent, but rather dear. The price of an orchestra stall varies from seven-and-sispence to half-a-guinea in fashionable theatres (comedy or drama) : the boxes varv in price, from one to eight guineas. The inferior places— balcony, upper circle, pit, amphitheatre, and gallery — are suited to aU purses ; the dearest are seven- and-sixpence or six shillings, and so down to one shilling, or even sixpence. The opera is exorbitant — one guinea, and twenty-five shillings being the price for a stall. As for the private boxes, they are from two to twelve guineas ; a box on the grand tier costs for the season _£240. At all the theatres ladies are admitted to the orchestra stalls, and at the opera and in the best theatres evening dress is essential. The private boxes are not open as in the French theatres, but shut in and furnished with curtains. Even in public the Englishman likes to be private, and to feel " at home." ^"hen the curtain rises the gas in the house is turned down, which is not a bad plan, as the stage appears better lighted; nevertheless, the semi-obscurity which prevails in the English theatres is not pleasant, and gives them a sombre and gloomy appearance. The ventilation of the English theatres is pretty good ; the seats are spacious, and the passages less encumbered than in France. Some managers have abolished " fees," and put an end absolutely to gratuities. In place of an old grumbling female, a young attendant supplies the perfumed programmes to the spectators gratis. Think of that, O ye Parisian managers ! The principal theatres are in the Strand and neighbouring streets. In the first rank we must place Coveut Garden, the third of the name — the two former ones having been burned in 1808 and 1856. The present building, reconstructed in 1858 upon the plans of Barry, has the same dimensions as La Scala at Milan. The facade, 114 feet long, consists of a portico supported by columns, 60 feet high, ornamented by statues and bas-reliefs by Flaxman, which were fortunately recovered from the flames. Carriages take up and set down under the portico, which gives access to a splendid crush room, from which rises the wide staircase leading to the boxes. The theatre, which is simple, and capable of containing 2,000 people, is painted a pale blue and white, with mouldings and gilded ornamentation. The seats are wide and com- fortable, while there is space sufficient between the rows of chairs to admit of moving without bruising one's knees. In Covent Garden the Opera, always sung in Italian, is housed during the ten or twelve weeks of the season. To the Opera succeed the Promenade Concerts, and at Christmas they are replaced by the traditional Pantomime, or more lately by a circus-company. A propos of the Opera, why are the English the only people in Europe who do not sing in their native language ? It is said that the English tongue does not lend itself to singing. This is a mistake ; in any case, it is quite as harmonious as German ! There is, it is true, a troupe of English Opera-singers, but it is directed by a German, and the majority of the artists are foreigners. Her :Majesty's Theatre, in the Haymarket, has also for some years produced Italian Opera at the same time as Covent Garden, but, like THE WEST-EXD. 151 practical people, and after considerable losses had been sustained by both sides, the managers united forces, and London has now only one Italian Opera. Drury Lane Theatre, situated close to Covent Garden, is— so 'tis said— the oldest theatre in London, although it only dates from 1812; and as all statisticians tell us that the average life of a theatre is only twenty-four and a-half years— exactness, as weU as statistics, is a beautiful thing— and that at the expiration of that period it must expect to be burned down, Drury Lane has lived beyond its allotted span. It is one of the most beautiful, and one of the finest stages in the metropolis ; as it is now the only one which unites the present with the past, by the immortal memories of actoi"s and actresses who have performed on it : in fact, it was at Drury Lane that the Kembles, Kean, Braham, Farren, IMacrcady, IMadame Vestris, Helen Faucit, and Ellen Tree became renoAvned by their incomparable talent, and threw around the English stage a h;do, the memory of which only remains. It is only fair to add, that, during the last few yeai"s, there has occurred in England a sort of re)iaissa»ce of dramatic art, on which the example of French dramatic artists has had some inhueucc. 152 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. Successively a theatre, a hippodrome, and a concert hall, and after having served as a meua"-crie for Van Amburgh's lions, the success of which exceeded that of jNIacrcady, Drury Lane was transformed into an opera house in 1867. After twelve years or so, the Italian Opera performances ceased; and now melodrama and military spectacles, like those of the old cirque in the Boulevard du Temple, are performed. As one mav judge, Drury Lane has had a somewhat chequered existence, and the number of managers it has ruined is considerable. However, the present lessee seems to have conquered tlic Ixid fortune which formerly attached to the theatre, the futiu'e of which seems assured. The architecture of Drury Laue is absolutely insignificant. For some time, opera was played at Her INIajesty's Theatix", which is in the Haymarket. Since its reconstruction, in ISG'J, the career of this tlieatrc has been as short as unfortunate-. It has attempted everything. Italian Opera, English Opera, Religious Meetings, Comic Singers, American Minstrels, and Comic Opera, have suc- ceeded each other with equal non-success. The foremost theatre of the drama is the Lyceum, which is in Wellington Street, Strand, near Covent Garden. Rebuilt in 1834, after a fire, this theatre had Balfe, the composer, for its occupant; he played English Opera, to Avhich succeeded a circus, and to that Mrs. Keeley's company. Mrs. Keeley was one of the best of modern actresses, and her company gave excellent representations, w'hich reaped great success. After \'icissitudes, which it is needless to recapitulate here, the Lyceum fell into the hands of a great actor, who is also a manager of rare ability, Mr. Henry Irving. Under the intelligent guidance of this talented gentleman, to whom is due, in great part, the progress which British Dramatic Art has made within tlie last few years, the Lyceum started on a fresh career of prosperity, tlie success of which is brilliant and profitable to the manager. He has succeeded in forming a company of recognized merit, whose pei-form- anecs are followed and appreciated by a discriminating public. The dramas, and, abo\'e all, the tragedies of Shakespeare are represented at the Lyceum v.ith a " go " and cnscmhlc which no other English theatre can reach. They are mounted with a luxuriousness and a care for detail, an exactitude of costume, and a completeness which denote a remarkable knowledge of the resources of the theatre placed at the services of conscien- tious artists careful of their reputations, and devoted to their profession. So the efforts of INIr. Irving have received the most flattering recognition from the public, and it was rumoured tluit he was offered a knighthood, a dignity which he had the good taste to decline. This offer, if it was ever made, is very significant, and shows plainly that the prejudices, which so long militated against an honourable profession, have now com- pletely been swept away. The Haymarket and St. James's Theatres, situated, the former in the thoroughfare whose name it bears, and the latter in King Street, St. James's, are near Her Majesty's Tlieatrc. These two houses — one lately under the management of Mr. and Mrs. Bancroft, tlie second under that of IMessrs. Hare and Kendal— are dedicated to the performance of modern Euglisli comedies, and particularly to adaptations of French jjicces translated, and sometimes mutilated, by English playwrights, who make a speciality of this class of literature. Actors of talent as well as intelligent managers, THE WEST-END. 153 Messrs. Bancroft, Hare and Kendal, have, like Mr. Irving, largely contributed to raise the level of English Dramatic Art. By the judicious selection of plays, the care with which they are produced, and the personal share which these gentlemen take in the performances, they richly deserve the favour they enjoy, and the success which, for twenty years, has never failed them. Amongst the other theatres, the most important are the Adelphi and the Princess's, and in less fashionable quarters the Britannia and Marylebone Theatres, where melodi'ama is performed. The smaller theatres are numerous. The modern English theatre is dependent on the foreign, and almost en- tirely on the French stage. Dramas, comedies, operettas — all the reper- tory of the last fifty years are translations, adapta- tions, and often mutilated French pieces. In tragedy .^^*X'(^/-,. V i England has a master — ^^>^^Mf|? COVENT GARDEN THEATRE. Shakespeare, but except at the Lyceum, what theatre ventures to produce the works of this sublime genius ? Not one ! Still it is only lately that the taste for Shakespeare has revived, and in the opinion of many people, the modern actors are still far behind their illustrious predecessors. England, so fertile in poets and novelists, has also her dramatic authors, but they only occupy a secondary position in her literature. No doubt she has produced the greatest of all— Shakespeare ; but what, beside this giant, are Beaumont and Fletcher, or even Ben Jonson, his contemporaries ? and after all, what of their works remains to this day? The memory ! Later, Wyeherley, Congreve, Farquhar, Southerne, and after them. Gibber, and ilrs. Centlivre, produced agreeable comedies, which are faithful pictures of the manners of the periods ; but in the greater part of them, there is a licentious tone which makes their production impossible nowadays. This is to be regretted, for their pieces, written with spirit, originality, and with qualities of observa- tion by no means common, deserve a better fate than to be forgotten. During the 18th century, a group of dramatic authors wrote and produced a great number of works not devoid of merit, but they were soon eclipsed by the comedies of 20 154 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. Goldsmith, the two Colmans, and Sheridan, the illustrious author of "Tlic School for Scandal," that master- piece of wit, satire, and animation. But with these great names, the last scintillation of a brilliant period, the dramatic literature of England seems to have expired, for in the 19th century, we do not appear to have seen a single dramatic author, except Robertson (the writer of some comedies, the excellent interpretation of which did more to render them successful than their intrinsic value warranted), and Bulwer Lytton. French pieces, adapted or translated, have always to be subjected to alterations necessitated by the demands of the British public, which does not like to see certain passions depicted on the stage. In order to disembarrass them of their " essentially French" character, the adapters excise, and introduce changes not always happy, and entirely alter the construction of the pieces, which often appear but of average merit, and which are unrecognisable by their authors. The critic bitterly bewails this low standai-d of dramatic art, and lays the lilame on the managers, reproaching them for only playing foi'eign pieces. This is all very well, but dramatists cannot be improvised, still less a National Theatre, and in art matters the State holds itself quite aloof — so the managers between bankruptcy and foreign plays do not hesitate for a moment. One cannot really blame them. As it is estimated that more than 300,000 persons frequent the various places of amusement in London every evening, it is evident that the theatres can accommodate only a small proportion of these pleasure-seekers. So the concert rooms, music-halls, and entertainments of kindred nature are very numerous ; and it is very difficult to ascertain exactly their number. Some people say there are 400 or more. However, that may be there are in every district some of these establishments designated " Halls " or " Rooms,^' in which, all the year round, are given varied amusements, concerts, conjuring, displays of magnetism, &c., known in England under the general name of " entertainments." The most extensive of all these buildings is the Royal Albert Hall in South Kensington, facing Kensington Gardens. It is an immense oval-sliaped building of red brick, around which runs a terra-cotta frieze, a style of decoration which is reproduced on the fayade; the architectm-e of the ''Hall" is not imposing, and were it not for its mass it would not attract any particular attention. The interior is 219 feet in diameter in its extreme measurement, and 185 feet in the smallest. The gigantic proportions of the Albert Hall have been partly the cause of its non- success, for under no circumstances can it be filled. It is calculated to contain 8,000 people, and as public ceremonials, .which alone attract the multitude, are rare in London, the Albert Hall has always the appearance of being empty. A fine organ, which cost £10,000, is placed above the orchestra, in which there is room for 1,000 instrumentalists. Much better situated than the Albert Hall, and of more reasonable dimensions, is St. James's Hall, with entrances in Piccadilly and Regent Street. It was built in 1857, after the designs of Owen Jones, and at once attained a popularity which has never since waned. We may also mention St. George's Hall, Exeter Hall, and particularly AVillis's Rooms, wherein were formerly held the Almack Balls, which were exclusively THE WEST-END. 155 limited to the " upper ten " of English society, under the direction of a committee of ladies of the highest rank. At present Willis's Rooms are let for balls, soirees, concerts, and assaults of arms. The Music Halls are curious : the principal are the Oxford, the London Pavilion, the Canterbury, the Metropolitan, and the Alhambra. As in similar establishments on p^•^I^^\',_^•"' INTEKIOB OF ALBERT HALL. the Continent, the visitors drink and smoke while they listen to songs more or less comic or sentimental, delivered by men clothed in eccentric costumes, and by ladies in ballet skirts. A very cui'ious individual in the music hall is the Chairman, or president, who, armed with a hammer like an auctioneer, and correctly attired in evening suit and white tie, is seated facing the audience, with his back to the stage. It is he who plays the part of an animated programme in announcing the artistes, who gives the signal for applause, or for its moderation, by striking the table with his hammer, and who maintains order in the hall. The true British dignity with which the Chair- man pronounces the solemn words, " Order, please, ladies and gentlemen ! " is most refreshing. Finally, amongst the places of amusement open every evening is the Aquarium, a glass-roofed building in which numerous entertainments succeed each other — acrobats, singers, conjurors — all to the strains of a fair orchestra. The large space reserved for 156 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. promenaders serves as a place of meeting for the class which the suppression of public balls has driven to the Aquarium. We must uot omit from our list of London amusements the wax-works of Madame Tussaud, whose reputation is European. Foimded in Paris in 1780, the museum was transported to Loudon in 1802 by its proprietor, who did not locate herself there definitely until 1833, after having travelled thi-ough England and Ireland. Since then the success of the e.\hibition has never wavered. It contains, amongst other curiosities, the counter- feit presentments in wax of Wellington and the first Napoleon, Henry VIII., and his six wives, as well as very excellent portraitures of Queen Victoria, and all the members of the Royal Family. All the Sovereigns of England are assembled in one particular gallery, termed the " Hall of Kings." The Napoleon Chamber contains an interesting collection of objects which formerly belonged to the Emperor, as well as portraits of the Imperial family. The popularity of the Tussaud exhibition is in a great measure due to the rapidity with which the important personages of the day — the latest Sovereign, the coming politician, the fashionable artist, or the most horrible murderer — find themselves figured in wax. Frequently the image is clothed in the very garments of the living person — a great attraction this for numbers of visitors. THE CLUBS : THEIR ORIGIN. — CLUBS ANCIENT AND MODERN. — LITERARY CLUBS. DISRAELI, BULWER LYTTON, THACKERAY, DICKENS. There are Clubs almost everywhere, it is true ; Paris, Vienna, and St. Petersburg have theii's, but there is no city in the world in which they are so numerous, or play such an important part, as in London. Nowhere else does Club-life occupy such a considerable place in the customs of a people; and this fact is not surprising when we consider that this profoundly egotistical institution is essentially of British origin. Whoever is " anyone," and anyone who wishes to become " somebody," must belong to a Club. To belong to such and such a club is equivalent, according to circumstances, to a badge of merit — political, literary, or artistic — and always a certificate of perfectly honourable principles. The man who is " black-balled " in a high-class club will find attached to his name a sort of moral reprobation, and feel himself touched on a point of honour. Have we not lately seen a candidate^ whose brother occupies a prominent position in politics, bring an action against a member to whose influence he attributed his rejection at a certain club? It was a conspicuous maladresse. The judges displayed much tact and cleverness on that occasion. They declared themselves unable to pronounce an opinion. They could do nothing else. This shows the importance of clubs whose political and social role is not one of the least of the curiosities of modern English life. THE WEST-END. 157 The origin of these establishments is of considerable antiquity. In the 15th century there existed a club called " La Court de bone Compaguie," but it was not until towards the end of the 17tli century that the first real club was established iu the City under the name of the Civil Club. Formerly people used to meet together at the taverns and coffee-houses, some of which are still celebrated; but the English hankering for solitude acc©rded ill with these establishments, which were open to every new comer, and the friends soon proceeded to hire a room, and afterwards a house, iu which they could meet ' privately: and at last to -^^ .. erect those immense stately buildings which at the present day occupy two of the most beautiful streets in London — Pall Mall and St. James's Street — and are amongst the most imposing edifices of the me- tropolis. In Queen Anne^s time men spent in the clubs most of the day, or rather of the night, talking, eating, and drinking. The club was then a viva voce newspaper, and there jokes, anecdotes, and scandals passed from lip to lip. Under the Regency the clubs were exclusively aris- tocratic. In them people played, betted, and quarrelled, and were " paraded " for a mere trifle. One day at Brooks', Adan:s took offence because Fox declared the Government powder was bad. Adams, who was in charge of this supply, was annoyed, and challenged Fox ; the result was a duel. Adams fired first, and Fox being wounded, refused to return the fire. The seconds interfered, and the pi-incipals shook hands. "Adams," said Fox, "if that had not been Government powder I should have been a dead man ! " In the prosaic and utilitarian age in which we live the clubs have changed their manners. There are no longer duels, quarrels, or extravagant bets. In place of those traditional rubbers at which one was ruined in a single night, some whist tables are set out, where the players risk moderate stakes — except in one or two clubs where the stakes are very considerable. The modern club is before all else a place of meeting, cither for politicians or — and there are a great number — for gentlemen of small means, who there find incalculable advantages. For the bachelor, the officer of slender income, the club is a home, a mansion furnished in princely style, in which one ABMY AND NAVY CLUB. 158 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. can live luxuriously without spending more than one can afford. Mr. Walkerj an English author, has put the ease concisely : — " Every member is master, without any of the trouble of a master ; he can come when he pleases, and stay away when he pleases, without anything going wrong ; he has the command of regular servants, without having to pay or manage them . . . having no interest to think of but his own." What, then, becomes of the family life ? Is not the home deserted for the club ? No ' BotJi institutions stand side by bide Avithout interfering with each other. If bachclois pass their lives, so to speak, at then clubb, the married men make their appcaiancc thcic less frtquently. For some of the hitter the club is, ho«e\er, a refuge; instance a ^^Lntkman ^\lio used to pass all his nights watching the gauie of pK[uct One morning a dispute aiose and the plajeis appealed to the "gallery," which then consisted of the solitary individual, an attentive spectator, who declared he did not know one card from another. " What the deuce are you doing here then at such an hour as this ? " asked one player. " Gentlemen," replied the spectator, " / am a married man." For the most part, the club is a pleasant place, where one hears the news and is placed au courant with the scandals of society. What one hears in these little conversa- tions would suffice to fill a newspaper and make the fortune of a reporter. It is the general opinion that from the military clubs emanate most of the "stories" which go THE WEST-END. 159 the rounds of society ; and that it is in the manufacture of " tittle-tattle " that the ofBcers devote themselves in the intervals of studying the service journals ! There are clubs political, aristocratic, military, university, professional. Amongst the first are the Carlton, the Reform, and Brooks'. The two first-named, recalling " the palatial homes " of Italy, are in Pall Mall ; the last in St. James's Street. Arthur's, White's, and the Turf Club have no political character ; their object is but to bring idle and lounging men of the world together. In past days high play ATHENAEUM CLUB. ?.■ was indulged in at White's, where men • ' ■ ' betted on anything or nothing. Births, deaths, and accidents, were all made the subjects of wagers. It is related that one day a man fell down dead at the door, and his decease was immediately made the sub- ject of bets. Fortunately for him, he was dead, for those who had betted on his death declined to permit him to be bled, on the ground that their chances of winning would be thereby diminished. The officers of the Army and Navy have a great number of clubs pertaining to the services ; the chief of which are the Army and Navy, the Naval and Military, the United Service, and the Guards' Club; the members of the last-named club are exclusively officers of the Household troops. There are many others. The Army and Navy Club is one of the finest and most luxurious in London. 160 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. St. James's Club, in Piccadilly, is almost exclusively frequented by members of the Diplomatic Corps and Foreign Office functionaries. It is renowned for its excellent cookery, which is greatly appreciated by the fastidious gourmets who use the club. They are not of the class who, like the diners at Crockford's, would complain to the committee that the cook had put onions in the Soubise sauce. The United University Club, the Oxford and Cambridge Club, and one or two others, are meeting places for former students of the two Universities. The actors have the Garrick Club situated conveniently at a short distance from Covent Garden and the theatres. This club contains a collection of portraits of the principal English actors — a collection formed by the celebrated Charles Mathews, who bequeathed it to the club. Some clubs— the Albemarle and the Lotus, for example — are "mixed," and include both men and women amongst their members. This experiment, frequently tried, has never succeeded. On the contrary, clubs exclusively for ladies seem to prosper, although they have only a very diminished importance. Every year new clubs are formed ; but these enjoy but an ephemeral existence. This is fortunate, for the greater number of these are disguised gambling-houses, whose disappearance is a benefit to the community. The History of the Literary Clubs has never been written in a complete form, which is a pity, for such a work would be of great interest, from all points of view. It may be, without exaggeration, asserted that the history of these institutions is intimately connected with that of English literature ; and even that it is impossible to speak of one without speaking of the other. It " goes without saying " that literary clubs originated with meetings at the taverns. The most ancient of these societies is that which assembled at the Mermaid Tavern, in the City. Founded by Sir Walter Raleigh, the favourite of Elizabeth, it was the rendezvous of all the wits of the period. There Beaumont and Ben Jonson wittily encountered each other. Shakespeare, if tradition is to be credited, formed one of the coterie, as well as Fletcher, the collaborateur of Beaumoiit. Carew, Selden, Cotton, Donne, and a considerable number of the literary men of that period, assiduously frequented the Mermaid Tavern, which was destroyed by the Great Fire of 1666; but its memory is imperishable, thanks to the verse which Beaumont addressed to Ben Jonson : — . . . . " What things have we seen Done at the Mermaid ! " At the commencement of the 18th century, Swift, the illustrious author of " Gulliver's Travels," established a club which he called the Scriblerus Club. The object of this society of men of letters was to criticise and turn into ridicule contem- porary savants ; and it must be confessed that the members were quite equal to their mission. One may judge by this : by the side of the Dean of St. Patrick's were Oxford, Arbuthuot, St. John (afterwards Bolingbroke) ; and Pope, the author of the " Dunciad," that scathing satire upon the literary Bohemia of his time, which he has depicted with as much realism as Hogarth displayed in painting it with the precision and crudeness so characteristic of the English pictures of the period. Gay, who wrote some charming THE WEST-END. 161 fables and the celebrated " Beggar's Opera," was also a member of the Scriblerus Club. But, before long, under the influence of political passions, this little band of literary men dispersed, and, as Sir Walter Scott said, "talents so various, so extended, and so brilliant, can never again be united." The Kit-Kat Club was more prosperous. Without being absolutely literary, it was frequented by too many celebrated writers to be passed by in silence. There the brilliant staff of the Spectator was united; Addison at the head. Congrevc, the dramatic author, posed there as a gentleman. There Dryden extolled Milton to the clouds; Vanburgh, architect, poet, and dramatic author, joked with Kueller the painter; and in listening to them Garth, the doctor, forgot his patients, and Steele — his wife. Sir Joshua Reynolds, the Presi- dent of the Royal Academy, who was in tlie habit of assembling at his house a circle of literary men, statesmen, and artists, one day conceived the idea of forming a society to bring these varied talents together. He confided it to his friend Dr. Johnson, who assisted him in the realization of his project. Thus the Literary Club was founded, which was originally composed of nine members only. Goldsmith and Edmund Burke were amongst these, but John- son objected to the admission of Garrick — his friend, too ! — on the plea that he would disturb the meetings by his buffooneries. Later on Johnson ': gave way, and Garrick, to his great joy, was admitted as a member of the Literary Club, as well as Colman the elder. This club, wliose existence has been prolonged to our day, has reckoned amongst its members Gibbon, whose " History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire " has been translated by M. Guizot; Hallam, Sheridan, Canning, Reynolds, Chambers, the architect of Somerset House ; Sir Charles Eastlake, who was also President of the Royal Academy ; Lord Brougham, and JMacaulay. The establishments of which we have been speaking, and many others of less importance, were not clubs in the modern sense of the term. They were reunions held on appointed days in certain places, generally in taverns or coffee-houses. When ofticers of the army, men about town, and meml)ers of the Universities already had their own clubs, the literary men and artists, who liad in some sort invented them, were still at the commencement of this century, and even as late as 1824, reduced to meet in taverns. Struck by this inferiority, and by the inconveniences which resulted from it, a certain number of learned and literary men founded a club exclusively for the use of the 21 i m i BUI.WER LYTTON. 162 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. literary and artistic, which was first named the Society Ckih, a name soon afterwards changed to that now celebrated— the Athenoeum Club. The Committee was composed of Sir Humphrey Davy, the celebrated chemist ; Wilson Croker ; Lawrence, the artist ; Chantrey, the sculptor ; Lord Aberdeen; the " bibliomaniac " Heber; Sir Walter Scott; Thomas Moore, the poet ; and the secretary was the illustrious Faraday. What a golden record is that of the Athenjeum ! All the literary and artistic glory of England during the first part of the 19tli Century is contained in it. We have already mentioned Moore, the anacreontic poet, whose verses have all the viva- city and ardour of the Irish genius, united with tlie sarcastic spirit of Dryden, and the delicate taste of Pope. Let us again mention Sir Walter Scott, the singer of jNIar- mion, tlie creator of the historical romance, who tiy an effort of genius carried this class of litera- ture to perfection, and at tlie first flight raised himself above all rivals. Who has not read those Waverley Novels, so powerful in interest, so poetic and so perfect, which gained for tlie author the title of the " Wizard of the North " — Scott, the Magician ? A strange contradiction of genius; for this man, who has resuscitated for us feudal Scotland with a marvellous fidelity, was only a sorry archjeologist, for whom Rome was "a fine city, but in ruins;" and who, on returning to Abbotsford, said, "I have seen many things, but nothing to equal my own house ! " The historians were represented at the Athenteum by Grote, whose History of Greece IS a " monument of science and erudition " ; and by Macaulay, who has left us such a faithful and so interesting a picture of England in the 17th Century, and his remarkable essays, masterpieces of criticism, style, and good taste, of which M. Guizot has given us a translation as pleasant to read as the original — tiiul one can assign to it no greater praise. DISRAELI (LORD BEACONSFIELD). THE AVEST-END. 163 Besides Faradayj whom Sir Humphrey Davy considered " his greatest discovery/' Wheatstoue and Darwin were included in the constellation of scientists who illuminated the club. Amongst the artists, Maclise, the famous painter, whose frescoes embellish the House of Lords, and Sir Edwin Landseer, the most celebrated animal painter whom England has ever had, were the most worthy successors of Lawrence and Chantrey. The novelists were numerous. Disraeli, the elder, author of the "Curiosities of Literature," preceded his son, the author of " Vivian Grey," the appearance of which was a master-stroke. Bulwer Lytton, afterwards Lord Lytton, a talented writer of novels, a mid- dling poet, a successful dramatic author, and a politician in his leisure hours, must figure in this gallery of illustration. Of a nervous temperament, of a suspicious mind, and obstinate, it is, above all, as a novelist that he excels, and has given proofs of an original talent and prodigious activity. His first novels — " Pel- ham," " Devereux," and "Paul Clifford," violent satires ujpon the aristo- cracy — indicated a pro- found knowledge of men, and of the world, and placed him at once in the front rank of the novelists of his time. Nevertheless, he did not represent the English spirit in the same degree as Thackeray and Dickens, who embodied all that is most characteristic of the national genius. Thackeray began life under favourable auspices. Brought up as a gentleman destined to enjoy a handsome fortune, he successively travelled through Germany, Italy, and France, where he applied himself to art, which he cultivated with fervom'. At the age of twenty-three, when ruin came upon him and forced him to choose a career, he threw down his palette and pencils to grasp the pen which he continued to wield till his death. His first appearance as an author was beset by difficulties. He began by satirising English society, which somewhat resented his raillery, particularly when it emanated from an unknown man, as he then was; and the "Book of Snubs" rubbed THACKERAY. 164 LONDON AXD ITS ENVIRONS. the Britisli fur the wrong way. To this is attributable the cynical reputation which has unjustly been fastened on him, and the trouble which he had to make himself known. It was not until he had pubhshed "Vanity Fair"— that is to say, after thirteen years of stubborn work-that his reputation was definitively established. From that time he was considered a master of his craft, and the " Society," which he had depicted with so CHAIILES DICKENS. much exactness and audacity — for he had dared to tell tlie truth to its face — bore him no ill-will. It would have been bad taste had it done so, for Thackeray wrote like a gentleman, and possessed tlie art of saying what he had to say with pleasing gracefulness. His style, vigorous, warm, and liighly-coloured, has a piquant flavour, a particular savour of its own. His fine raillery, full of humour, is tliat of good society, and never descends to vulgarity. With what art in " Vanity Fair" he has depicted that adventuress, Becky Sharp, that demon of feminine perversity, and how he follows her in THE WEST-END. 165 lier descent down the slope on which she slips, without permitting a word to escape his pen, which the most delicate-minded lady reader could object to. God knows it was easy to lose himself on the way ! AVhat real living characters are Becky the intrigante and Rawdon Crawley her husband ! But we come in contact with the types daily — " Vanity Fair " is true for ever. And that curious figure — the old debauche, Lord Steyne, do not we meet him in our daily walks, buttoned tightly in his frock-coat, with his au-s of the old beau, bis painted complexion, and his ferret eyes which intimidate women ? Thackeray was also a speaker of considerable merit, and a draughtsman of talent. In the illustrations to some of his works, and in the designs which he has furnished to the pictorial journals, he has shown us that he could wield the pencil almost as well as the pen. Dickens, more fortunate than liis friend Thackeray, met with success at his first step into literary life. He was only twenty-four when liis " Sketchjs by Boz" drew atten- tion to him. What Thackeray did for the aristocracy, Dickens did for the lower classes and the "peojile.'' No one has ever seized upon and depicted so well as he the eccentrici- ties and the qualities of the lower middle-classes; their humility before the great, and their hardness towards the little people — with all that, charitable and surly, hard-working and extravagant — perverted under the veneer of afiected austerity. His most characteristic work — far ad at. that which contains the germ of and sums up all the others— is " Pickwick," a series of pictures of manners rather than a novel. But what pictures! Pickwick is the synonym for John Bull. Follow this fat man through all his adventures, and you have a striking photograph of the English character. He causes to pass successively before the charmed, absorbed, it may be startled, reader— the soldier, the lawyer, the journalist, the politician, the actor ; every- one passes as in a kaleidoscope. In the harrowing scenes of the debtors' prison, where laughter is mingled with tears, the author puts his finger on English misery — that hideous plague spot which eats into the vigorous British society, as some maladies attack sound, healthy bodies. An attorney's clerk in early life, he draws for us, with rare skill, a picture of that other plague-spot, so much the more formidable, as it reaches everyone under cover of a tardy legislation: the dishonest baud of lawyers of a low class, who are always on the look- 166 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. out for a scandal — master-swindlers who make use of the law to practise their honest calling— is as numerous as ever. Only, the Dodsons and Foggs of to-day are much more formidable than their predecessors ; they have advanced with the age, and are too clever to permit themselves to be caught. Unfortunately, " Pickwick " is untranslatable into French. It loses, in the process of translation, three-fourths of its charm and truth to nature. Like the state of things which it represents, it cannot l)e understood without preliminary study, which is not within the i-each of everybody. The style of Dickens is unequal; sometimes rising to the height of poetry, to descend afterwards to triviality; slang is mingled with academic phraseology. "With unequalled skill the author adapted his style to the class to which he introduces us, and thus gives to his scenes a truthfulness, a colour, a life, a verisimilitude, which are marvellous. Dickens, like Thackeray, was pitiless for the weaknesses of his countrymen ; but what made one feared, the other popular, was this : in Thackeray each one is recognised by himself; in Dickens every one has recognised his neighbour. Both authors have left an imperishable work — not only the most perfect repre- sentations of English society as it was in the first half of the 19th century, but, more t'lan that, a faithful picture of the national character. So long as the English language is spoken their works will be as true as they are now, as they were yesterday. When that New Zealander, of whom Macaulay has spoken, sits pensively regarding the ruins of London, the immortal Avorks of Dickens and Thackeray will revive for him the memory of a vanished race ! XL SPORT. RACE-COUKSES. — THE DERBY. — CRICKET AND FOOTBALL. LAWN TENNIS. — BICYCLES AND TMCYCLES. The term " Sport " — a very elastic one — embraces all sorts of open-air amusements : riding, hunting, fishing, gymnastics, swimming — in a word, all the exercises which bring the physical faculties into play, come under the denomination of " Sport." To enumerate the British sports would require a volume, for the list is indeed a long one. From the schoolboy who plays cricket and football, to the great lord or land- owner Avho hunts, or shoots grouse on his Scottish moors — all Englishmen interest themselves in these eminently national pastimes. Without counting special newspapers. Sport occupies an important place in all journals, niuler the heading of " Spoi'ting Intelligence." The races which take place from one end of the year to the other are for tiie masses excuses for bL-tting and speculation. The English are a gambling nation ; if they have not a passion for caids they certainly have for jy/ft//, for in all amusements they find means to gratify their taste for speculation. An Englishman loves to risk liis THE WEST-END. 167 money on a liorse or a foot-race, on a cricket or a football team, or on a swimmer^ a sculler, or a bicyclist — even on a boxing-match ! Lord Palmerston called the Epsom Races, where the famous "Derby" race is run, the Isthmian games of England. In fact, the Derby Day is the national /e^e of the Enghsh. On that day Parliament does not sit, and, though the warehouses and shops are open, the City is deserted. "All the World and his Wife," as the English say, go to Epsom, either by railway, or in carriages, or in spring vans, or " hansoms." It is an unique sight, this procession of 100,000 persons passing, one fine day in jNIay, along the dusty ■«lf rn:ui wiucli leads to the race-course. From the costermonger, seated in his "barrow," drawn by a donkey, to the duke and the peer, who value their teams at a thousand pounds sterling, all classes of society, all professions, all costumes, are represented there. On the course itself is a veritable Saturnalia, a Carnival without the name. The motley crowd, noisy, gross, and brutal, permits itself every excess in language and liquor. The pickpockets, the betting men, the "negro" minstrels, descend like a swarm of flics upon their food ; those who have not been ruined by betting are pretty sure to be robbed by the light-fingered gentry, who reap a harvest on Derby Day, when heads and legs are not very trustworthy after copious libations. An English crowd, when it is let loose, loses all restraint, it becomesr wild, its bursts of excitement are cliaracterised by an amount of recklessness which makes one shudder to think what such a populace would become in a riot. These men and their companions have the appearance of brutes, their eyes, illumined by the gleams of intoxication, fiash ferociously. Animal life is overflowing in them, and it seems that an explosion of anger in such creatures would be produced by the slightest concussion. Beside such people, over-excited by enjoyment 168 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. and drinking, the ladies and gentlemen who contemplate them from the vantage-ground »- LAWN TENNIS MATCH. ot their carriai:;cs, cool and disdainful, have somewhat the air of " tamers " in a cage of wild beasts. And the race? But the race is the least interesting part '^ ' '" ■Tlltlllll.'-,, , -J ,.in,^. ■ff \ y THE IIAC'E. of tlic l)crl)y Day. To the foreigner, this file of horses, the varied parti-colourrd shirts THE WEST-EXl). 169 of tlie joclceys, ■who pass by like a whirlwinfl, are far from presenting the same interest as the popular and curious scenes, so novel withal, which one can only witness in England — and then only once a year ! The Derby, which was established in 1780, is run invariably on a "Wednesday at the end of May or the beginning of June ; and two days after is the Oaks, which has not the same popular characteristics as the Derby. The race-course is beautifully situated some fifteen miles from London, near Epsom, a small town once celebrated for its .. 'i-^.^i.iiiiOs;' .a ^=-*r«<»'i ■«* i mineral springs, but now quite gone out of fashion. On the Downs, an immense "stand" of three stages has been erected, in which 5 000 people can find room, nnd obtain an admirable view. Epsom is served by the South Western and the London and Brighton Railway Companies. On davs there are special trains about every ten minutes. As, with the exception of the Derby, the horse-races in England bear a family resemblance to those in other coiintries, it is really cidy the former which is worth the trouble of seeing. But, if one wishes to see something novel, one must go and witness a match of cricket or football. Cricket and football matches — both essentially national games — have an irresistible attraction for everyone. The principal London matches take place at Lord's Cricket Ground — so called from the name of the original proprietor, ]Mr. Lord — and at Kcnnington Oval. It is in July that the most interesting matches take place between the elevens of Oxford and Cambridge Universities, and between Eton and Harrow Schools. The latter match is much ■^ the most popular, and attracts the largest crowd. For many weeks beforeliand people discuss the relative chances of both " teams." The illness of one of the eleven gives rise to the greatest anxiety. The most "steady- going" journals devote leading articles to matches past or to come. " Old boys " crowd to " Lord's " on the occasion of the match ; and the day is generally wound up with a liberal distribution of amenities between the partisans of the rival schools. The game of cricket is a modification of the old game of crosse. It is played with 170 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. a ballj wickets, and a wooden bat with wliich the player must stop or strike the ball delivered by his opponent, whose object is to disarrange the wicket of the batsmau. The balls used are very hard, and the contusions received on heads and limbs are too numer- ous to mention. But, if cricket has its dangers, football is absolutely barbarous. The violence, the savagery, which arc displayed by the opponents in this British sport are, according to the English them- „r ~ selves, shameful. It is ^feSsKF- °^-S^ heart-rending to sec the - 55- ; *^^ groups of youths, even of =^ men, rushing down upon ' ?= ^^ the player who holds the 4 ball, like a pack of hounds C.iKRUGES AT THE DERBY. upon a wild boar. This is a struggle in which kicks and blows play a conspicuous part. Every year this game claims a relatively large number of victims. It has been sought to render it less dangerous by establishing new rules ; but the young Englishmen, who like to make a parade of their powers of endurance, that is to say, of their astonishing faculty for enduring blows, prefer the game in all its savagery. Scratch the Englishman and you will find the l)arbarian, who loves to fight, and delights in giving to his amuse- ment a smack of danger. Boxing is still a favoiiritc pastime with Englishmen, and is now, as a rule, practised only with gloves. But even with these restrictions, considerable punishment may be inflicted. The athletic clubs occasionally give displays of boxing; the heavy, middle, and light-weights being all well represented. There are few Englishmen who do not know how to use their fists ; their first weapon of defence is the clenched hand — a formidable one, too, if the person is acquainted with the " noble art of self-defence," as the Englisli call the science of ))ugilism. The Ijrutal prize-fight has almost entirely THE WEST-END. 171 disappeared from England ; but boxing with gloves^ and school encounters, are common to all classes of Englishmen and boys. Eor some years two new pastimes have been added to the already long list of these amusements. These are lawn tennis and velociped- J'j-.^L., vti Like cricket, lawn tennis is of French origin ; .it is lejeu depaume, revised and corrected. It is a graceful game, which developes the muscles, and has the advantage of bring- ing together young people of both sexes. It really deserves its popularity, ^loreover, it is an aristo- cratic game, for the popu- lace do not appear to have taken it up. As for the bicycle, it has become a perfect nuisance. The streets are filled with these machines, which come running along at a high rate of speed, to the great danger of pedestrians and vehicles, for the horses are alarmed at the machines ; and, as if this were not enough, the tricycle has been invented. This is a kind of seat supported Ijy three wheels, which are set in motion by treadles. There are tricycles with one or two seats— a new danger to add to those, already so great, of the London streets. Gymnastics, foot races, and bicycle races are very popular sports. In the spring the principal meetings are held, the most interesting of wliicli arc those at Lillie Bridge Grounds — a kind of race-course and cricket-ground, belonging to the Amateur Athletic Club, and at the Stamford Bridge Grounds, the property of tlie London Athletic Club, THE WmKER. 172 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. XII. THE It.ULNVAV.S: STATISTICS ACCIDENTS. — CLAPHAM JIXCTIO.V . — TH C TERJIIXI. Tin; .-VIETROPOLITAN RAILWAY. — OMNIBUSES. TRA:\I\VAVS. — CABS.— STEAMBOATS. England cnjoj's a most perfect system of railways^ as anyone may convince himself by a glance at a map. There are nearly 20,000 miles of lines opened, and the number of passengers conveyed annually by the various companies is estimated at more than 745,000,000. As usual, the State does not interfere, save in the inspection of the railways, particularly with a view to the safety of travellers. According to the report of the Board of Trade, the number of persons who suffered from accidents on tiie railroads in 1881 reached a total of 1,096 killed and 4,564 wounded; that is, 1 killed out of every 5,760,740 passengers can-ied, and 1 wounded in 335,577. These figures include not only the individuals killed or wounded in the trains, but also those employed on the lines, and the travellers, victims of their own imprudence, as well as suicides, and would-be suicides, etc. The number of travellers who were the victims of accidents, properly so called, during the same year, was 23; the wounded numbered 993. The total number of railway servants killed reached 585, tlie number of wounded 2, 146. As will be seen by the foregoing, railway accidents are uncommon, and, considering the enormous number of passengers cai'ried, and the speed of the trains, comparatively slight. The total receipts of the various companies were, in 1881, £66,537,000; and they distributed in dividends more than £12,000,000, or about 4^ per cent, on their subscribed capital. As to the nominal capital, it amounts to more than £750,000,000 sterling. The receipts show a constant increase, wliich is due to the very great facilities offered to travellers by the companies, who continue to improve tlicir rolling stock, and to watch over the convenience and comfort of their passengers with remarkable cure. There are very few English lines on which the tliird-class carriages — roomy, well ventilated and lighted — arc not furnished with cushioned scats and backs. Tlie miserable " cattle-trucks," still in use on the French lines, are, happily, unknown in England to the present generation. To these conveniences, no doubt, the number of third class passengers is due — a number which has doubled itself in ten years, while those of the second-class diminished sensibly; the number of first-class passengers remained about the same. The Midland Railway has removed its second-class carriages entirely, and runs only veliiclcs of first and third class. It is probable that this example will ultimately be followed l)y all the other lines. The journeys arc accomplished more rapidly than in France, and the express trains arc not exclusively devoted to first-class passengers. Trains are frequent on all the THE WEST-END. 173 liaes, and always made up of sufficient carriages ; so that it is not necessary to pack into each compartment the greatest number of human beings in the least possible space. Nine trunk lines have tlieir starting-points in London. These are — tlie Great Western; London and North-Western; Midland; Great Northern; Great Eastern; London, Chatham, and Dover ; South Eastern ; London and Soutli Western ; and London, Brighton, and South Coast. Each of these companies possesses a suburban network of lines, which cross and SAINT PANCRAK STATION. recross each other; running overhead, diving underground, or passing over viaducts of extraordinary elevation, and converging upon two junctions — Willesden Junction on the north, and Clapbam Junction on the south ; and their appearance is striking. As far as the eye can reach, and in all directions, there are nothing but long lines of rails, crossing and recrossing, forming an immense net of steel meshes. In the evening the parti-coloured lamps of the signals present a most picturesque sight, and one would fancy one's self in a town illuminated for a fete. What a continual movement there is at these junctions! More than 1,200 trains pass Clapbam Junction daily, of which about 1,000 stop to take up and set down passengers; the remainder run through -without stopping. It is impossible to arrive there at any time without seeing many trains either stopping or rushing past. For nervous persons this cross-road of iron-ways is a formidable locality ; nevertheless, the precautions are so well taken, the system of signalling so ingenious and so perfect, that 174 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. accidents seldom occur. In tlieir manner of working railways the English display unparalleled skill. A few years ago, an American, charged with tlie management of one of the largest lines in the Ihiited States^ came over to study the Euglish railway system, and was invited to enter one of the signal-boxes at Clapham Junction, to make himself acquainted with the working of it. After an experience of two hours he came out again, declaring that he would go mad if he remained there longer. For some years p.ist the majority of the companies have caused vast termini to be built; some of these arc veritable monuments. Almost all the lines have several stations in different parts of London. As, by a very ingenious arrangement, the same station serves for several lines, travellers have the inestimable advantage of entering the train almost at tlicir own doors, no matter where their destination may be. The English termini bear little resemblance to the French ; they are, for the most part, immense glazed galleries, into which the lines run, separated from each other by wide platforms for arrival and departure. On the right or left, or at the end, we find the booking-offices and waiting-rooms. Everyone enters and goes out as he jileases, and seats hhuself in a compartment as soon as he arrives. By this means one avoids the confusion and disorder which are caused in France on the departure of every train, thanks to the system still followed on many lines, which consists in shutting up the passengers like dangerous animals, and only releasing them at the last moment. On arrival, the cabs and carriages are ranged alongside the platform parallel to the train. The travellers then have only to step from their compartments into their cabs, without the least trouble. For the last twenty years it has been customary to erect a monster hotel at each terminus, to which it thus forms a facade. These hotels are very useful to travellers who only pass through Loudon. They are very comfortable, and, as one finds one's self on the spot whence the trains start, there is no necessity to rise at unholy hours to catch the morning express. Many English people who live in London sleep the night Ijcfore their departure at these hotels^ so that they may be sure to catch their train in the morning. Amougst the most remarkable railway termini, we must mention Charing Cross and Cannon Street stations, which are, however, outdone by that at St. Pancras, belonging to the Midland Railway. This deserves a -special description. 'When we have passed under the hotel of Gothic design which forms the facade, we find ourselves in an immense nave of iron and glass, the projiortions of which appear Avorthy of the architects of the time of Sesostris. The terminus, of pointed design, is 210 yards long, 72 wide, and 30 high. It is supported only by iron girders of single spans, without one column or intermediary pillar. Under this colossal glass roof are eleven lines of rails, with platforms, and a cabstand eight yards wide. To maintain that this terminus is pleasing to the eye would be too much to say, but, as a /our de force of construction and boldn-.ss of design, it is incontestably one of the most astonishing things that the art of the engineer has i)roduccd. Tlic Liverpool Street terminus, which ))crtains to the Great Eastern Railway, is larger and more elegant. However, that of the Grent Western, at Faddington, is still, THE WEST- EN I). 175 of all the large terniiui in Loudon, that which presents the best proportions, and the best arranged from all points of view. The other railway stations have no particular characteristics; they all resemble each other in their interior arrangements, which have already been indicated above. The ^letropolitan Railway was commenced about twenty-three years ago. At that time the means of communication between the City and the West-End had become quite insufficient, and the necessity for new ways was imperative. To cut new streets STATION (METROPOLITAN RAILWAY). was not to be thought of; that would be too c(;stly a remedy; and tlieu tlic idea of a subterranean railway, which had been vaguely discussed, was adopted. The JNIetropolitan Railway now forms the smaller of the two circles of which the Metropolitan system, properly so called, is composed ; these are named, respectively, the Inner and Outer Circles, both upon the left bank of the Thames. The former is an underground line, which lately started from Aldgate, in the City, and ended at the Tower of London ; but the Circle is now complete. It runs through the regions of King's Cro.ss, Regent's Park, Paddington, Kensington, Chelsea, Westminster, the Strand, and the City. Some figures will give an idea of the extraordinary utility of this underground line, which carries more than oO,OCO,00() of passengers annually, or about twice the number of the whole population of England. From 5.15 .v.m. until midnight — that is to say, in about nineteen hours — there circle round the jMetropolitau Railway more than 350 trains, or about one train in every four minutes. This is bewildering ! However, notwithstanding the innumerable difficulties of the traffic, so great is the care observed, and so well is everything organized, that it is very seldom an accident occurs. ITG LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. Tlie stations generally consist of a small liuilrling, in which there is a hooking- office ; a staircase learls to the platform, which is lighted by gas, and receives daylight from the street by ventilating shafts lined with white glazed bricks. At each end of the platform is a tunnel, black and yawning. This is the railway. Movable signboards indicate to the traveller the destination of the expected train, and three large notice- boards, bearing respectively the inscriptions, " Wait hero for first class," or, as the case may be, second or third class, determine the spot where the carriages of the classes named will be found when the train stops. The train runs in at a rate of speed which one does not nsually associate with a stopping train; but the powerful brakes soon bring it to a standstill. Then everyone rushes in or out, for stops are here counted by seconds, and the train -;;: starts again with all the doors open. "With surprising dexterity, a porter and the guard from the plat- form shut them, all as the carriages pass by without missing one ; and then the guai'd slings himself into his van when the train has already attained its maximum speed, thanks to the special construc- tion of tlie engines in use. The difficulties which presented themselves in the making of this underground line were all surmounted by Mr. (now Sir John) Fowler, the able engineer of the company, with rare good fortune. So all these subterranean lines are legitimate objects of admiration for the foreigner, who is surprised at the energy and tenacity of the English, who triumph with the greatest ease over material obstacles reputed nnsurmountable. However, tlicy have not yet been able to render the air pure in the Underground Railway, and the passengers complain of it with reason ; it is, in fact, charged with fumes of sulphur and steam, which are very deleterious. Notwithstanding the ventilators and the blow-holes, the atmosphere of the Metropolitan Railway, in certain portions of the line, is positively intolerable. A remedy is being sought, and, let us hope, will soon be found. UIVKIl STEAMER. After the railways, the omnibuses and tramways are the chief popular means of THE WEST-END. 177 locomotion. The London omnibuses were^ and still are^ for the most part^ very incon- venient vehicles^ in which twelve persons, packed like herrings in a barrel, are sufifocated for want of air, thanks to the ingenious precaution which the company has taken to fix the windows, probably with a view to prevent discussion amongst the passengers. The fares, which are generally the same for inside or outside places, vary, according to distance, from one penny to sixpence ; but the system of correspondence is unknown. The London tramways resemble those north of Paris, with outside seats in addition. As in the omnibuses, the fares vary according to the distances, and al'e the same outside or inside. At present the tramways are not permitted to penetrate into the heart of London. The drivers and conductors of omnibuses and tramway-cars do not wear uniform, but they carry, as the caljmen do, badges, with their numbers inscribed thereon, suspended by a leather thong. Some drivers are dressed quite like gentle- men, wearing good hats, light overcoats, and flowers in their button-holes. They all wear gloves. London is the worst furnished city in Europe witli respect to public vehicles. There are no victorias in summer, no little coupes in winter, but villainous and uncomfortable things, called cabs, an abbreviation of the word " cab- riolets," as 'bus is sliort for omnibus. The English like to economise syllables. There are the two-wheeled caJ) mid the four-wheeled cab. The former is the most extra- ordinary vehicle which the human brain ever conceived. To an architect, named Hansom — whence the name Hansom cab — this inconvenient machine is owing; its disadvantages are many, and its merits are still to be discovered. The cab goes fast, they say. Granted. But it will not go fast unless the horse be a good one. Harness him to a more com- modious vehicle, and he will go at least as fast. As for the four- wheeled cab, it is simply detestable ; add to this the risk of contracting some serious illness (for these cabs are used to carry patients to the hospitals at times, in defiance of the laws and police regulations), and you have, perhaps, the secret of the popularity of the Hansom cab, with which one is obliged to content one's self, for want of a better. The fares vary according to distance, and the number of passengers in the four- wheeled cabs. The proper fare is sixpence a mile, or part of a mile, for two persons ; l)ut under two miles we cannot give the cabman less than a siiilling, even if we have only driven a few yards in his cab. To all these means of locomotion we must add the small river steamers which pass to and fro on the Thames between Chelsea and London Bridge ; and those which, starting from the latter jjoint, go down the river to Greenwich, Woolwich, and Gravesend. 23 HANSOM CAB. 178 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. XIII. Tin; MUNICIPAL ADMINISTRATION. THE MAIN DllAINAOE. — THE WATER AND GAS SUPPLY. THE POLICE. THE riHH BRIGADE. — THE COMMISSIONAIRES. London, as we have said, was originally that portion of the existing metropolis now called the City. The City of London had its own municipal organization, as rci)reseutcd by the Corporation, whose attributes and privileges still remain almost intact. As the population increased, the small towns and villages surrounding the City were fused together ; and though all of them formed a compact agglomeration of houses and streets, each had, nevertheless, its own municipal organization. This confusion of powers has survived to the present day, although an ctlbrt was made to remedy the state of things by constituting vestries and the jNIetropolitan Eoard of "Works by Act of Parliament in 1855. This was a step in advance, but of such little practical utility that the Government has had under consideration a project for municipal reform with the object of bestowing on London a Central Administration. The vestries, forty in number, are local committees, the members of which, called vestrymen, are elected by tlie ratepayers of the diilercnt parishes. To these vestries appertain the duties of paving, lighting, and cleansing the streets, or the portions of streets, within their jurisdiction; also the inspection of houses, the removal of nuisances, etc., within their respective boundaries. The Metropolitan Board of Works is composed of forty-five members, elected by the vestrymen. It is charged with the management of the drainage, the bridges, and the parks, the control of the operations of vestries, the opening up of new streets, the improvement of the metropolis, and, finally, with the direction of the Fire Brigade. But as this Board has not the same authority in tlie City as in A^cstrydom, it finds itself at every turn checked by the Corporation, and the conflicts of opinion which arise daily render its task very difficult. The first business of the Board of Works was to undertake the establishment of the gigantic system of drainage, destined to obviate the poisoning of the population by the pestilential e.vhalations of the Thames, into which formerly all the sewers discharged themselves. Twice in every twenty-four hours the tide stirred up this mass of putrefying matter, to the great danger of the inhabitants, and the rising waters drove back into the sewers the filtii, which remained there until the next tide. Such a state of things could not be prolonged without grave danger, and the engineers were called upon to remedy it. After an examination of the various plans proposed, that of Sir Joseph Bazalgettc was adopted. Here, in a fi'w words, is the project which is now in operation. Beneath the old sewers vast collectors or tunnels have been established, which receive the contents of the existing conduits. Upon the left bank of the river there are three parallel lines of these collectors, situated at different levels, which debouch into a single outlet in THE WEST-END. 179 Barking Creek. There, at high water, the sluices arc opened, and the tide carries off the sewage into tlie deep sea. Ou the right bank the pipes discharge their contents at Erith. At the point of convergence the collectors are 9.} feet high, and 13 in diameter, of dimensions sufficient, it would seem, to meet the daily increasing necessities and the outcome of the overflow raiuftill. As there are many levels, and some collectors are too low to permit of the natural outfall of the sewage, it has been found necessary to establish pumps to force it from the lower to the higher level, after the disinfection has been accomplished. One of these pumping stations is in Chelsea, the other is at West Ham on the east of London. The length of these collectors is 85 miles, and the total cost of the svstem was a f\ ■m '^fprti^^ jF?=r-- ■±>lJihkl.^'it$i '""' S&HSSBig..-j.,5a^3E;^^j:^5SSi SECTION OF EMBANK5IENT (CHARIXG CROSS), SHOWING METROPOLITAN RAILWAY, ALSO OLD AND NEW SEWERS. little more than £4',0OO,.O0O sterling. To recoup this expense, a tax of threepence in the pound on the rateable property of the metropolis was imposed. Water is oupplied to London by eight companies. The supply for each house is on the average 32 gallons. Tins water, without being absolutely pure, is nevertheless potable and wholesome enough. Of the 150,000,000 of gallons daily supplied, Q7 millions are drawn from the Thames, 59 from the Lea, and the New River, an artificial water- course, whose source is 38 miles from London, and the remainder from Artesian Wells, sunk by the companies. There was lately a scheme proposed for buying up the Water Companies, but a counter project, which has a good chance of being adopted — inasmuch as it would be less costly, and secure for London absolutely pure water — consists in procuring water from one of the Welsh lakes. As early as 1803, a German, named Winsor, employed gas as a mode of lighting the Lyceum Theatre, but it was not until 1807 that this new method was adapted to the lighting of the streets. As a comraencemeirt, one side of Pall Mall was first illuminated; seven years after, in 1814, gas was m general use. 180 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. There are in London four companies which possess the monopoly of lighting the metropolis with gas. Thanks to the climate, the English consume an enormous quantity for lighting, heating, and cooking. Tlic price is about three shillings and sixpence per tiiousand cubic feet. Like the Water Companies, the Gas Companies arc compelled to permit their clients to share in the profits by reducing the price of gas when the dividends exceed a certain limit. It is estimated that 38,000,000 of cubic feet is the quantity consumed daily by the 1,200,000 lamps which line the metropolitan thorough- fares. There are two bodies of police in London— the Metropolitan and the City Police. The latter force, consisting of about 800 men, is exclusively Ic of territory which owns the jurisdiction of the Lord jNIayor. The Metropolitan Police, who arc charged with the security of ' nearly 5,000,000 of persons, number 12,000 cfTcctives, of whom 200 arc mounted. The force is directed by a functionary — almost always a retired mili- tary officer — who is called the First Com- missioner of Police. The head-quarters of the Force in London are in Scotland Yard, Wiiitehali. Tiiis little army is composed of 20 divisions, designated i)y letters of the alphabet; and a special division charged with river inspection, called the Thames Division. The policeman is clothed in deep l)luc garments, and a helmet covered with cloth of tlie same colour; he is armed with a staff which is carried in a leathern case suspended from his belt. He is, moreover, possessed of a " bull's-eye " lantern ; a waterproof cape ; and a whistle, by means of which he can summon his companions to his assistance in case of attack, or give the alarm in the event of fire, &c. The policeman's duty is far from being a sinecure, particularly at the East-End of town, where the docks are— a region inhabited generally by a very mixed population. He is ntirivallcd in the management of the street traffic, very oljliging, jiarticularly to women and eliildrcn, whom he assists over the dangerous crossings, and is always ready to impart all the information in his jiowcr. Wo will close this subject with a few statistics. In 1881, the Metropolitan Police arrested 7 7,0iJ0 individuals, of whom 3,700 were sc'ut to the Assizes, and the other I'lRE ENGINE. THE WEST-END. 181 73,300 were brought before the police magistrates, who sentenced 51,000 and discharged the remainder. The number of drunken persons arrested by the police during the same year amounted to 18,721, and as the police only charge those who arc incapable of taking care of themselves, it is evident that the national \dce is not sensibly diminishing, not- withstanding all the efforts of Temperance Societies and others. The number of disappearances was 177; of dead bodies found, whose identity could not be ascertained. TO THE FffiE ! there were 51; of persons accidentally killed in the streets, 127; and the number of lost dogs "run in" by the police was 17,545. In this city, where every year there are at least 2,000 fires, without reckoning chimney-fires, which are twice as numerous, it is only natural that the equipment of the Fire Brigade should attract the special attention of the authorities. So nothing has been left undone to perfect its organization, which only totals — one will scarcely credit it — 550 men, recruited, for the most part, from the seafaring class. It is an essentially civil body. Notwithstanding their small numbers, the firemen, whose devotion and skill are above all praise, arc sufficient, thanks to the perfection of their equipage and organization, to protect against the most terrible of scourges, the city in the world 182 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. most notorious for the ravages of fire. There are in London 53 stations, amongst which the following equipment is divided, viz., 153 fire engines, of which 38 are steam engines, besides three floating steamers for river service in the docks, and for the warehouses bordering the Thames; 137 fire escapes mounted on two wheels, and placed every even- ing in position at various points throughout the metro- polis, each vmdcr the care of a fireman ; 44 waggons and two tug-boats, as well as a large number of horses. To keep up the communication between the difl'erent stations, there are about 160 miles of telegraph wire in use, and a dozen special telephones; finally, there are now in all districts fire alarms, in which the pressure of a button will warn the neighbo^iring stations in the event of fire. The expenses of the Brigade amount to £53,400, of which ±16,000 are furnished by the Insurance Companies, whose interest it is to prevent conflagrations; £10,000 Ijy the Government, and the CO.MMISSIONAIRE. remainder liv the ratepayers. To give an idea of the i ipulity with which the Tiie rii:;nies aiii\e at the scene of a fiie, it will be sufluicnt to uc ill to lumd the buming ot the \lhunbn lu Dccdiibri, lSb2, when 28 1 - ' ^ ■^^ ^ l^ m- KIKE BRIGADE HEAD-QTAUTERS. — FIRE ESCAPE. steam fire engines came from all parts of the town, and were at work in Leicester Square in less than an hour. The head station of the Fire Brigade is in Soutlnvark Bridge Road. In concluding this review of the public servitors, let us sketch the London Com- THE WEST-END. 183 missionaire, who bears no resemblance to Iiis confrere on the other side of the channel. An old soldier or sailor, decorated ^vith a medal, and often mutilated, the English Commissionaire only carries letters and light parcels; he is dressed in a dark uniform, and is in attendance at certain specified places. He is an honest and faithful servant, who deserves every confidence, and whom many merchants and public companies hire by the day to act as messenger or door-keeeper. One has the advantage of having a man upon whom one can reckon, and dressed in uniform, which in the eyes of many people, is an advantage. XIV. THE PUBLIC CHARITIES: THE POOR-RATE THE WORKHOUSES — PRIVATE CHARITY. THE hospitals: the FOUNDLING — CHELSEA HOSPITAL. Before the dissolution of the religious orders, the Monasteries received the poor and indigent, but when the suppression of the Convents depi'ived these unfortunate beings of their places of re- fuge, the authorities of the period could find no other remedies than scourging, im- prisonment and death for mendicants and the poor. Towards the end of the reign of Henry YIII. 38,000 persons were put to death for the crime of mendicity ! In the reign of Elizabeth, a law obliged each parish to levy a tax in aid of the destitute, while making those work who were capable of it, and giving house-room to the infirm and aged. From this the name bethlehem hospital (bedlam). of Workhouses was bestowed on these establishments. The tax for the poor is called the Poor- Rate; it is paid by householders on the value of the premises they occupy. In towns the poorest quarters are the most heavily taxed, because they have the greatest number of poor to assist. Thus an inhabitant of St. Giles' pays more in proportion for the support of the poor of his parish than the Duke of Westminster; the former pays tlu-ee shillings and sixpence in the pound sterling, the latter scarcely two shillings and sixpence. In the provinces there 18t LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. are a large number of parislies too small to provide for the expenses of a Workhouse, in such a case several parishes unite and form what is called a Union. The Poor-Rate produces every year, for England and Wales alone, about .€15,400,000, or about ten shillings and threepence per head of the population. The number of paupers to whom assistance was extended, in 1881, rose to 803,381. London has about 85,000 paupers to relieve every week, of whom 50,000 are in the Workhouses, and the others receive out-door relief. This number does not include the insane, whose maintenance is charged on the parishes, or rather on the counties; nor the vagrants, whose numbers are considerable. That is to what English administrative charity confines itself. The Government CONSUMPTION HOSPITAL. leaves all the responsibility of it to the parochial authorities, and contents itself by watching — rather carelessly at times — the execution of the laws. From time to time the revelations made concerning the treatment to which the unfortunate occupants of the workhouses are subject are enough to make one's hair stand on end. The press gives them publicity, and docs its best to remedy the abuses : but when, after au enquiry more or less searching, the Commissioners make their report, the affair has been long forgotten in the midst of daily business pre-occupations. It is evident that the workhouse system is insufficient, particularly in London, where, notwithstanding the innumerable (private) charitable institutions, people actually (he (if hunger every week. Is it not a disgrace that the richest city in the world should be at the same time the only one whose newspapers periodically contain the appalling heading, " Death from Starvation " ? If public charity is insuflicient, private aid is truly inexhaustible, and does ail it THE WEST-END. 185 can to rescue all the distressed in a country where misery appears blacker and more fearful than elsewhere. In fact, more than a thousand charitable institutions of all kinds may be reckoned in London, and these distribute, or employ annually in good works, a sum of about £4,000,000. Besides this, for the last twelve years a " Hospital " Saturday and Sunday have been instituted, and collections are made in the streets and in the churches. These doles produce about £30,000, which are distributed pro rata amongst the hospitals, according to their expenses. MAEYLEBONE HOSriTAL. Hospitals, Refuges, Dispensaries, Asylums, Orphanages, Creches, Night Refuges — all these institutions are kept up solely by the liberality of private individuals, by legacies, donations, &c. Not a week passes without the announcement in the news- papers of one of these acts of munificence, which arc, so to speak, unnoticed, so common arc they. Independently of these visible manifestations, private charity finds a thousand ingenious methods of relieving unseen misery, and the number of those who, with the outward semblance of prosperity, are living as the " pensioners " of relatives — and more often of charitable friends — is very large. The hospitals are numerous and admirably managed. The twelve principal institutions contain in the aggregate 3,700 beds, and assist about 500,000 patients annually. Let us first look at St. Bartholomew's Hospital, which is the oldest in Loudon. Founded by Henry VIII. in 1547 (but originally instituted by Rahere in the beginning of the I'^th century), and intended for 100 patients, it has been at successive periods 24- 186 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. '^'^fM^^^ ^rx?^ )S5iv^¥}*^--.-r/. ^!!,-i;.J„.3?.§jsrJff ^.^ i^vv!^^::j»?(«?>w>: ^«r re^j-,. L enlarged and altered. The present building, situated on the site of the old Priory of St. Bartholomew, dates from the last century, and contains 676 beds. The Medical Staff is composed of eighty persons ; four physicians and four surgeons are on duty day and night in the hospital; they are assisted by 120 nurses. The School of ]\Iediciue attached to this hospital enjoys a high reputation. Pitcairn, Abernethy, and Harvey have in turn practised there. St. Bartholomew's Hospital receives every year 5,000 or C,000 in-patients, aud 120,000 out-patients. It enjoys an annual fixed revenue of £40,000. Another very celebrated hospital is Guy's. Founded in 1722 by the bookseller, Tliomas Guy, who endowed it with a sum of £240,000, this hospital enjoys an annual income of £40,000. It contains 1,000 beds, which accommodate 5,000 persons annually ; and the number of out-patients is about 85,000. The School of Medicine is one of the bes-t attended, and numljcrs 350 students. It would be impossible to name all the hospitals licre, but we must not pass St. Thomas's Hospital in silence. This institu- tion is situated upon the right bank of the Thames immediately opposite the Houses of Parliament. Founded in 1532, and at first situated near London Bridge, it was rebuilt in 1872 on its present site. It consists of eight detached buildings, connected by a double corridor, which overlooks a terrace that serves as an exercise ground for convalescents, and is enclosed by gardens. The detached buildings have four storeys, and are thirty yards apart. This system of isolation gives excellent results, above all as regards the ventilation, which is perfect; but the dampness and fogs of the Thames must be serious drawbacks, aiul it would not have been difficult, since there was a large sum at the disposal of the Governors (£500,000), to have selected a better site. The average number of patients is G,000 annually ; those who seek advice iiumbcr about 65,000. The fixed income of the hospital is £48,000 a year. Let us not forget the French Hospital, founded in 1867 for the assistance of our fellow-countrymen. The excellent little institution renders important services to the uufortuiuite incmbers of the French colony when struck down by illness. It received, in 1881, 313 in-patients, and 7,G00 persons presented themselves for advice. Having no other resources but the liberality of charitable persons, the French Hospital of London has a very limited income. It is much to be wished that tiie French Governmeut would grant it a higher subsidy than the £18 which the French Embassy bestows on it every FOUNDLING HOSPITAL. THE WEST-END. 187 year. It is an act of charity to call the attention of the French tourists who pass through London to this excellent institution, which owes its existence to the constant and disinterested co-operation of a few charitable men, at the head of whom we may mention Dr. Vintras, who devotes to it both his skill and time indefatigably. Everyone has heard of Bedlam, as the celebrated Bethlehem Hospital devoted to maniacs is popularly designated. Founded in 1746, it has been rebuilt several times. The present building dates from 1812, and cost £120,000. The 400 mad people whom it contains receive the most intelligent care. CHELSEA HOSPITAL. To brutality and ill-treatment have succeeded kindness, and the greatest liberty con- sistent with the necessities of such an establishment. In one of the wards of Bedlam criminal lunatics are confined. ^Margaret Nicholson, who attempted to assassinate George III., died there in 1828, after an incarceration of forty-two years. We know that individuals who attempt the lives of their sovereigns are generally considered as not in possession of all their faculties, and are confined as lunatics for life. Would not death be preferable ? The Foundling Hospital, intended, as its name implies, for the reception of found- lings, has for a hundred years past changed its object. So great were the abuses of its privileges, that the law was obliged to interfere. It now receives the illegitimate children of women who are known. Every woman who wishes to place a child there must make application in writing. This somewhat extraordinary regulation does not allow of the 188 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. reception of the children of domestic servants, nor of infants who are more than a year gld. The child, once admitted, is baptised, and receives a name, which the mother may THE WEST-END, 189 always ignore. Notwithstanding the pitiless severity of these regulations^ there are always about 500 children in the Foundling Hospital. Chelsea Hospital is the Hotel des Invalides of London. It is situated on the hank of the Thames, and was built in 1690, in the reiga of Charles II., after the designs of Sir Christopher Wren. The hospital consists of a central building, surmounted by a turret, and two wings, forming three sides of a quadrangle, in the centre of which is an equestrian statue of Charles II. by Grinliiig Gibbons. Entering by the principal gate under the portico, embellished by four very simple columns, we reach a lobby, which leads us to the chapel and dining-hall. The chapel, paved with black and white marble, is furnished with seats. Those in the centre are reserved for the rank and file, the officers' being placed at the sides of the nave. The walls are embellished with flags and trophies. Above the altar is a painting of the " Ascension," by Sebastian Ricci. The refectory is at the opposite side of the lobby, and of the same dimensions as the chapel. It is decorated with several pictures, amongst which is a fine painting by Verrio, finished by Cooke, representing Charles II. on horseback, surrounded by allegorical personages; a large canvas of the battle of Waterloo, and an allegorical picture, by James Ward, commemorate the victories of the Duke of Wellington. The 500 pensioners in the hospital wear uniform, which consists of a long red overcoat, dark trousers, and three-cornered hat. They are divided into six companies, each commanded by an officer. Visitors are admitted to Chelsea Hospital every day between the hours of ten and four. XV. FUNERALS AND CEJIETERTES. The English are far from possessing the sense of veneration for the dead in the same degree as the French. For them death is an irresistible occurrence which must come sooner or later, and which should be kept at a distance as long as possible ; but, once the "grim Serjeant" has done his work, his victim is best quickly forgotten. It is not, properly speaking, indiff"erence, but it is the result of this practical turn of mind which impels English people to look at things upon their best, or least bad, side, and to resume the interrupted current of their business. After having guarded their dead for eight days — a barbarous and unhealthy custom — they proceed with almost indecent haste to transport them to their long home. A black van, on which the undertaker's men perch themselves: when, having turned the corner of the street and removed the hammer-cloths from the horses, they begin to trot ; and some mourning coaches : that is the whole arrangement of an English funeral. In the street not a hat is raised, not a carriage is stopped; the funeral falls in with the other vehicles. At length the cemetery is reached, where, in a cold and unfurnished chapel, a clergyman — the dried fruit of the ecclesiastical tree — gabbles through the 190 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. service for the " Burial of the Dead " in a few minutes. The body is replaced in the van and carried to the deep grave ; there tlie reverend gentleman murmurs some words, the coffin is lowered, a few handfuls of earth are thrown upon it — and all is over. There is nothing imposing about this ; it partakes of a poignant and cruel melancholy ; everyone is glad wlien it is over, including the clergyman, who is expected by otlicr people, whom he will dispatch with the same weary and mdifferent air. He is not a minister of religion; he is an empluye. An emploije, in truth, for the cemeteries are the pro- perty of limited companies, which distribute good dividends to the shareholders. Since 1855j this lugubrious industry — what other term can one use ? — has developed consider- ably. Up to that time the dead were interred sometimes m the church vaults, sometimes in the churchyards. That system, very dangerous from a sanitary poiut of I lew, h:is fortunately come to an end; and there are round London a consider- able number of cemeteries, of which the most impor- tant are those at Kensal Green and Brompton. Kensal Green Ceme- tery, the most renowned of London cemeteries, belongs to a company formed in 1832, and covers about 218 acres of ground. It is estimated that it contains tlie remains of al)out 150,000 persons : and under the circumstances, it is not surprising to Iicar that KENSAL GREEN CEMETERY. ,1 • ,, a • i • this nourisliing con- cern," as it lias been described by the officials of the company, yields a very good dividend to the shareholders. It was laid out on a plan similar to that of the celebrated Pere la Chaise Cemetery, in Paris, and is divided into two distinct portions, one of which is destined for members of the Church of England, anil the other for Dissenters. Kensal Green Cemetery is the resting-place of a number of celebrities— artistic, literary, political, and even royal, for the Duke of Sussex and his sister. Princess Sophia (children of George III.), are buried there. Among the most remarkable [)ersnnages who are buried in Kensal Green may be mentioned Anne Scott and Sophia Loekhart, daughters of Sir Walter Scott ; Sydney THE WEST-EX D. 191 Smith, Allan Cunningham, Tom Hood, the poet; Thomas Barnes, for many years editor of the Times ; Mulready, the painter; Madame Vestris, John Listen, the actor; John Murray, the publisher and friend of Lord Byron ; William Makepeace Thackeray, Shirley Brooks, editor of Punch ; John Leech, the celebrated caricaturist ; Sir Mark Isambard Brunei, engineer of the Thames Tunnel; Sir Charles Eastlake, P.R.A. ; Leigh Hunt, George Robins, the auctioneer; and many others. In Brompton Cemetery are interred amongst other known persons. Sir Roderick Murchison, the geologist, Keeley the actor, and the humorist, Albert Smith. iilJ I M BROMPTON CEMETERY. Another cemetery — a very important one, which is not situated in London, although it is used exclusively as a place of sepulture for Londoniaus, is that at Brookwood, near Woking, in Surrey, about 38 miles from the metropolis, on the South Western Railway. It is reached by railway ; and the company despatches special trains, and has made a station purposely for this service. In the foregoing pages we have indicated in broad lines the curious, complex, and ever-changing features of the gigantic town which Hcrschcl considered the centre of the universe. London, which contains more Roman Catholics than Rome itself, more Jews than there are in all Palestine, more Germans, more Italians, and more Frenchmen than are contained in many important German, Italian, and French towns, lias preserved, notwithstanding the divers elements which mingle in it, an essentially national character. It is the unique town— ;jar excellence. It is, certainly, the only one in which a stranger may pass all liis life amongst his compatriots, and live his national existence without being obliged to learn the language of the country he is living in. There are Frenchmen 192 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. who after haviii"- lived thirty years in Loudon, have retired with an honest competence to their native land without having learnt a word of English. So with Italians, Germans, and Belgians. "What London will have become in a hundred years, the most audacious cannot hazard an opinion, remembering the prodigious development of the metropolis; but if the rate of progi-ession, which has been continued for a hundred years, be maintained, we can conceive a human hive of nine millions of people living in 680,000 houses spread over a surface of 200 square miles. I;astly, the improvements, the gigantic works accomplished within the last ten years, and those which arc in course of execution or projection, tend to make London the most beautiful city in Europe, as it is already the largest and most healthy. ]\Iunicii)al reform, so long waited for, is on the eve of its appearance, and will give a new impulse to the transformation of the metropolis of the United Kingdom, of which the English are so justly proud when they compare their formerly dark and smoky city with the London of the Victorian Era. MONKEY ISLAND. CHAPTER THE THIRD -THE OUTSKIRTS OF LONDON. I. THE C.WKS OV THE TH.\:ilES FROM RICIHIOND TO r,IlE.i.T MARI.OW. London', like Paris, is suiToniidcd by charming localities easily accessible, wlicre the smiling verdure, in picturesque and pleasing places, forms a contrast as agreeable as unexpected with the province covei'ed with houses which cue has so lately quitted. "We can scarcely believe that a few miles from Charing Cross the dirty Thames changes into a clear river, lined with elegant houses, with parks fresh and shady, and charming villages where we may breathe the pure and balmy air, and where fogs are unknown. In those localities, at a distance from their business or their desks, live a number of merchants and their clerks — the form.er as a matter of choice ; the latter from necessity, for living is cheaper there than in London. Nevertheless, the true country has not yet been reached — we find it some nine or ten miles from the centre of the City. Alth-ough very fond of the country, the London middle-class individual docs not rusli on Sundays to the railway stations to reach the green fields, as the Parisian docs. And what is he do there? Unless he goes to the classic localities — such as Richmond, for instance — he finds neither restaurants nor hotels; and even then those 194 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. restaurants are for the most part excessively dear, and quite out of the reach of small purses. The means of transport, too, are re- duced on Sundays by one-half. For the lower, middle, and the working classes, the Lord's day is, above all, a day of imposed rest, and pro- foundly wearisome. But when the month of August comes, the small tradespeople and clerks go and pass some days on the shores of the Channel — the Londonian is extremely fond of the sea — and in two or three weeks lay up a stock of health for the rest of the year. But the richer classes do not behave in the same manner. For many years, excursions into the country CORONATION STONE, KINUSTON THK TH.SMKS AT KEW. have lieeonie quite the fashion. Society lias broken witli the old Sunday traditions, lous ])CT,\)\c. People of tiie world liavc arrived at the con- to the great scandal of virti THE OUTSKIRTS. 195 elusion tliat a run iu a steam-launcli on the Thames, a dinner at Richmond, a lawn tennis party in a pretty park, present nothing glaringly immoral ; and in some houses even TWICKENHAM. i^^ quiet little dances are got up. Yes; but what a chorus of reproba- /^' tion ensued ! For eight days the newspapers were full of letters fijim good people, who indignantly protested, iu the name of morality, against the introduction into a Christian country of Continental customs ; and then — the whole thing became part of a recognized order of things, and nothing was effected one way or the other — as is always the case under such circumstances. 196 LON])OX AXD ITS ENVIRONS. At present the Sunday boating or carriage excursions are quite a part of Society customs, and the charming banks of the Tliames between Richmond and Great Marlow arc the favourite localities. This selection is a proof of good taste, for nothing is more picturesquely beautiful than the sinuous course of the Thames between these two points. Going up stream, -we first arrive at Twickenham, where, beautifully situated iu well wooded parks, we find Orleans House, York House, and Mount Lebanon, occupied by the Princes of Orleans from IS.jS to 1871 ; and Strawberry Hill, the celebrated resi- dence of Horace Walpolc, built on an eminence and surrounded by magnificent gardens. Like Holland House, in London, this historic residence is only a memory, a relic of the past. During the summer of 1883, the furniture and object.^ of art, with whicli the house was filled, were sold by auction, and the ground parcelled out into building lots, which are being ra])idly covered with villas erected by the speculative builder. After passing Teddington, the head-quarters of fishermen— the English are fanatics in fishing— we reach Kingston, where the Saxon kings were formerly crowned. The stone on which the coronations took place is to be seen in the market place. Harnpttm Court, and the village of Hampton, on the left bank— Thames Ditton and IMoulsey on the right— present themselves, and, though very pretty, are far from equalling in beauty the picturesque Walton-on-Tliames. From Walton Bridge we obtain an admirable view of the river. Turner chose this bridge— or, rather, the former structure -for one of his most eflcctivc pictures. ■\\ allon Cimrch, flanked by a picturesque square tower, dates from Saxon times. It contains the remarkable tomb of Lord Shannon, sculptured by Roubiliac. In the mayor's house is preserved the "Scold's Gag," a kind of iron mask, fitted THE OUTSKIRTS. 197 with a picL-e of wood, which entered the mouth and kept the tongue fixed, for the benefit of too loquacious wives. This ingenious instrument dates from 1632. The beautiful park of Oatlands, which belonged to the Duke of York, has recently been divided into lots, and sold to speculators : as for the house, it has beeu transformed into a hotel. There is a grotto in the park, the construction of which cost the Duke of Newcastle i;j.O,000. There never has been a more remarkable instance of the useless expenditure of money. From Weybridge to Staines the Thames piesents no very interesting features, the THE THAMES AT CXIVEDEX. banks being somewhat flat and monotonous in character : neither Chertsey nor Staines offers any attractions. But as we approach ^Viudsor the scene changes, the river resumes its picturesque appearance. On the right bank the venerable trees of Windsor Home Park form an impenetrable curtain of verdure, through which here and there are gaps, revealing the imposing mass of the Castle, dominated by its enormous Round Tower. As soon as we have passed the Castle we arrive at Eton, the site of the celebrated public school. Almost opposite Eton is Clewcr, and Windsor racecourse is a little higher up. On the right bank of the river upwards are several elegant country houses, and in the centre of the stream is ISIonkcy Island, which awes its name to the frescoes which embellish a room in a tisliing pavilion, that formerly belonged to the Duke of 198 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. ''-■-";? ttirrt?! '^■^£ ■'^'^m Marlborougli, and is now a hotel. We next reach Bray, a charming little village _ situated on the right bank. ^^-\^^- - ,_ About a mile higher up we 7^1?-' find Maidenhead, where the beau- '" _-■■■- ^:,v tiful viaduct of the Great Western -^- ' . . -„-; "i - " -^\.'' ^ Railway surprises us by the bold- ness of the span of its two spacious arches, and the echoes which they return us. The town has no monuments, and the sole charm of the place consists in the beauty of the surroundings which are revealed at every step, so to speak. A stone bridge unites Maidenhead and Taplow, ■where CLIVEDEN HOUSE. '^J^JitC ^® Taplow Court, a beautiful mansion of modern erection, containing a rich gallery of old paintings, principally of the Italian school. We remark, amongst others, the " Marriage of St. Catherine," by Titian; " A Holy Eamily," by Jules Romain, and some valuable pictures by G. Poussin, Canaletto, y and Turner. A little higher up the river we perceive the princely mansion of Cliveden, belonging to tlie Duke of Westminster, situated upon an eminence, shrouded by magnificent trees, and surrounded by a park of surpassing beauty, which can be seen when the Duke is absent from the liouse. This district is dotted witli lordly residence.?, which give us an idea of what the country seats of aristocratic families are — such as Drop- more, the residence of the Hon. G. Fortescue, celebrated for its conifcrse, which can be seen in the park ; and llcdsor Park, the magnificent l)roperty belonging to Lord Boston. Cookham is opposite, upon the right bank. This is one of the best known places on the Thames, and one of the most frequented. Tiie scenery is beautiful, and sufficiently explains the popularity of the place. Two miles higher up we reach Great Marlow, just beyond which is liisham Abbey, situated in one of those beautiful parks only found iu Enghuid. The Abbey, which in the 14lh Century THE OUTSKIRTS. 199 belonged to the Templars, was subsequently bestowed upon Ann of Cleves by Henry VIII., after her divorce. The house, of the Tudor style of architecture, is very remarkable, as well as the old Norman church, which is attached to it. It is now in the possession of Mr. Vansittart. The banks of the Thames, unfortunately but too little known to foreigners, offer a series of the most picturesque and delightful scenes which it is possible to imagine. One cannot too strongly insist upon the exquisite chamn of these beautiful places, buried in verdure — of these parks and gardens, kept up with that care and love of nature peculiar to the Anglo-Saxon race. There is a scries of surprises — an unknown England — which we discover, and which is worth a thousand times the crowd of classical and well-known localities which tire one so soon, and which, being always dinned into our ^fr 7r.-..k.,.- <>.'V>rr; BISHAM ABBEY. ears, appear inferior to the ideas we have conceived concerning them. On the Thames, on the contrary, the reality surpasses the idea, and no description can do justice to the freshness of the impressions we receive, and the astonishment and pleasure which we experience while proceeding up the Thames from London to Great Marlow, or, better still, to Oxford. Nevertheless, this excursion by water can only be made in fine weather, and only at certain times is there an organized service of boats. But, as the greater number of the places we have mentioned are served by the various suburban railway lines which surround London, it is easy to visit the banks of the Thames at any time of year, if one has a few days at one's disposal, and if the weather be favourable. 200 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. II. GREENWICH AND WOOLWICH. Just as every Englishman believes himself obliged to go and pass a day at Versailles, so every French tourist in England will not fail to visit Greenwich, Windsor, and tlie Crystal Palace, which it is customary to look upon as parts of London. Therefore, in a volume such as this, it is incuml)ent upon us to devote a special cliapter to them. Greenwich, which is generally visited first of all the places in the environs of GREENWICH HOSPITAL. London, is officially a town iiy itself, enjoying a municipal and political organization of its own. In reality, it is a portion of London — that all-devouring town which every year absorbs more suburbs and some thousands of inhabitants, and whicli will one day include Gravesend in the east, and Windsor in the west. Besides the cab there are three different means of transport available between London and Greenwich — the railroad from Charing Cross, Cannon Street, and London Bridge; tiic tramway from Westminster or Blackfriars (Surrey side), or by the steam- boats which start from Westminster every half-hour, stopping and taking up passengers at all intermediate piers. The last-named route, though longer than the others, is much the most interesting and picturesque. Leaving Westminster, we have on tlic l(y^'ir» ;^^\.';^..\v':.- 1XaA,'^ ■ VIRGINIA WATER (WINDSOR PARK). surround the castle, and ascending the R,ouud 212 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. Tower, whence tlicrc is a magnificent view, we proceed to St. George's Chajicl. This chapel is a masterpiece of pointed areliitceture ; the interior, particularly, richly cmhel- lished with carvings, pictures, and stained glass, is of great beauty. We perceive the stalls of the Knights of the Garter, above which hang their banners and their coats of #iiBlP»?#*-''- ■ ■■•■ ' ■ •SJ'i'nri'v'' I! ■rt-^r^-'T ^ *r- I '■■•■■I. A'!', it: . '-i, .;>■■ r .1- - ■ i/v^'''V^""'".' INTERIOR OF ST. GEORGE'S CHAPEL (WIND.SOR CASTLE). arms, the monument to the memory of the Princess Charlotte, and the gallery in which the Queen attends Divine Service. In the crypt of the chapel is a vault in which many other members of the Royal Family repose. Windsor Park is divided into two portions ; the Home Park, and the Great Park, connected by a magnificent avenue 4,800 yards in length, called the Long Walk, at the cud of which is a mound surmounted by an equestrian statue of George HI. This park, which is not less than 2,000 acres in area, encloses some beautiful spots, and an extensive lake called Virginia Water. It is on this pretty piece of water that in the siinuner the Prince of AVales delights to assemble his friends to aquatic /c'/es, after which a grand dinner takes place in a cottage situated on the borders of the lake. The Mausoleum, erected by the Queen to the memory of the Prince Consort, is to the left of the Home Park. THE OUTSKIRTS. 213 Eton Collcfjo IS situated some few luindrcd y;\rds iVoni tlic Castle, upon the opposite side of the Thames. There is notliing architcettirally striking in its ai)pearaiire ; l)ut it is the prineipal public school in En^lnnd, or, at least, tlic most aristocratic and the FROGMuRE (WINDSOR PARK). most expensive. According to the English plan, the pupils are lodged at the homes of their masters, and the school premises are utilised only for lessons. There are about 600 boys at Eton, who are called " oppidans," and they are prepared for the universities. It would appear that a classical education there leaves something to be desired ; but, on the other liand. as canoe-ists and cricketers the young Etonians are unrivalled ! IV. HAMPTON COURT, RICHMOND, AND KEW. Hampton Court Palace is forty-five minutes from London by the South-Western Railway ; the station at East Moulsey serving likewise for Hampton Court, which is situated on the opposite bank of the river. The palace, built l)y Cardinal Wolsey in 1515, and offered by him to his master, Henry VIII. some years afterwards, has undergone many important renovations. The facade looking over the gardens was added by Wren, and of the original palace naught remains but the buildings which surround the first and second courts, and the Great Hall, to which an intelligent restoration has given back its pristine beauty. After being used as a residence by many kings of England, and, lastly, by George II., the Palace of Hampton Court is now only a picture gallery. However, some of the buildings have been converted into apartments in which are lodged, gratuitously, as 214 LONDON AND ITS ENVlllONS. an acknowledgment of past services, retired officers, impecunious functionarieSj and widows of those who have served the State. The visitor enters Hampton Court Palace by the West Gate, where is a cavalry barrack. At the end of the avenue is the palace. A large archway admits us into the first court; at the left angle a flight of steps ascends to the Great Hall. This is a magnificent nave of Gothic style, whose grand proportions and rich decorations constitute it a veritable marvel. The roof, finely carved, and on which the arms of Henrv VIII. are displayed, is sixty feet high. It is supported by elegant arched buttresses similar to those in Westminster Hall. The Great Hall is lighted by lofty e-r:^ "^jf-i ■tes lUCHMOND BRIDGE. stained glass windows of a very remarkable character. Six of these represent the arms and gcnealotiies of tlie six wives of Henry Vllf. Tlu- better to judge of the eflcct of this magnificent hall, the visitor should stand below the project- ing window, the glass of which represents Ihe arms of Henry, and those of Wolsey, and Jane Seymour. The tapestries which rover the walls represent the History of Abraham. They are arranged in order, commencing at the left, as we enter. Wc reach the picture galleries and the apartments by a fine staircase adorned with allegorical ]):uutings by Verrio ; and then we find ourselves at the beginning of a series of rooms (there are more than twenty of them), in which arc placed many hundreds of pictures, the majority of which have a true artistic value. A somewhat strange regulation decrees that the visitor having once been admitted cannot return ; he must proceed to the end: so it is with real pleasure that we find ourselves in the admiral)ly- kept gardens which extend to the cast of the palace. Amongst the curiosities of the gardens at Hampton are the Maze and the Vine. The latter springs from a single cutting planted in 17()8, on which, in some seasons, nearly 2,500 bunches of excellent THE OUTSKIETS. 215 grapes have been counted, which are reserved exclusively for the iloyul tabic. The 1 II I II r HAMl'TON COUHT. Lion Gate, near the INIaze, leads us to Bushey Park, wherein the avenue of horse- chestnut trees is considered one of the most beautiful iu the world. A herd of fallow 216 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. deer roam at liberty in the park, thus adding to it that country aspect wliich the English excel in giving to all their gardens, and in which their principal charm consists. Hamilton Court Palace and Gardens are ojjen all the year round, except on Fridays and Christmas Day, from 10 a.m. until dusk; on Saturdays from 2 o'clock only. Richmond, a pretty little town situated on the banks of the Thames, half an hour by railway from Loudon, is one of the favourite haunts of all classes of Londoners, who delight in brcatliing tiie fresh air and in picnieing in the park, or in dining sumptuously at tlie " Star and Garter," which is as renowned as the " Pavilion Henry IV. " at =,^--- H "im \^!n - / yf"//^i ^n- VIEW KROM RICHMOND BRIDGE, St. Germain. Kichmond has its terrace, too, at the foot of wlueli winds tlie Thames, and from which a beautiful view is obtainable— a prospect which Sir Walter Scott considered unique. Richmond Park is about seven miles in circumference; it is a beautiful promenade; but the right of way, as in Hyde Park, is rigorously denied to cabs. Kcw, like Richmond, is nmch frequented by the inhabitants of the metropolis. The great attraction of the place is the Botanic Garden, which is open daily to the public-even on Sunday, after mid-dny. The great palm-house and the IMuscum arc most interesting. Adjoining the Botanic Garden is a picturesque park, called " pleasure grounds," where are the nurseries, a pretty lake, and numerous buildings, the utility of which is doubtful ; amongst others, there is a pagoda built after the designs of Sir William Temple, and a temple of Victory. There is also at Kew an Observatory, built THE OUTSKIUTS. ■2iy for George III., and now belonging to the British Association — a society incorporaterl to encourage the study of science. Tlie public are not admitted there. Kew Gardens are the property of the Crown, as Kew Palace is, which has not been occupied for years. In these gardens are the celebrated horse - chestnut trees, which Londoners like to see in bloom every year, and English horticulturists declare are the finest in the world. This superlative, "the KEW GARDENS ^ 218 LONDON AND ITS ENVIKONS. finest in tlie world," is very much used in England, where it is employed on every occasion. ?? %(- i^^^llifisa!^;^* VIDW FROM THE TERRACE AT RICHMOND. V. TIIR CRYSTAL PALACE. — DULWICII COLLEGE. THE ALEXANDRA PALACE. The Crystal Palace is situated at Sydenham, and can be reached by the London, Chatham, and Dover (ITij^h Level) or the London and South Coast Railways, tlic stations hcini; at the very doors of the Palace. Erected in 1853, on tlie model of the y.f- TIIK IKVblAL I'ALACE 220 LONDON AND ITS ENVIRONS. Exhibition of 1851, the Crystal Palace is a building of iron and glass, 1,4 IG feet long, 100 feet high, and 280 feet wide. It is flanked by two towers, from the summit of which there is a magnificent view. The visitor is impressed, as he enters the palace, by tlie vast proportions of tlie nave, cut by two transepts, one in the centre, the other at the southern extremity. Beneath tlie former of these we find the grand orchestra, the concert hall, and the theatre. Tlie great nave is ornamented with plants, shrubs, and flowers, tastefully arranged. In the portion on one side of the great transept, lateral courts are arranged as nearly as possible like ancient buildings. Thus we have the Egyptian Court, which is guarded liy two lions crouching at the entrance, and filled with monuments and statues, exactly copied from those in Egypt. A colonnade, which divides two of the rooms, is a perfect representa- tion of that of Karnak. The Greek Court, I^cside it, presents a strong contrast, in its elegance and graceful ornamentation, to the stitt'ness of the Egyptian monuments. Here we find temples, statues, sculptures, bas-reliefs, and a reproduction one-fourth of the actual size of the western fa9ade of the Parthenon. The lioman Court comes next. The centre of this hall is occupied by models of the iirliicipal monuments of Rome. Tliere is at one side the Eorum as it now is, and on the other side the Colosseum, and the Pantheon rrstore