My First Visit to Europe: or, Sketches of society, scenery, and antiquities, in England, Wales, Ireland, Scotland, and France ... Second edition

Front matter

__bBOTSFOR_J MY FIRST VISIT TO EUROPE: OR, SKETCHES OF SOCIETY, SCENERY, AND ANTIQUITIES, IN ENGLAND, WALES, IRELAND, SCOTLAND, AND PRANCE. BY ANDREW DICKINSON. Author os "Tbe City of tbe Dead, nnd other Poeii From tiie Mourning stort Osthese auspicious fields, may I, unblamed, Transplant some living blossoms to adorn My native clime. Akentide. SECOND EDITION. Neto^Yorfc : PUBLISHED FOR THE PROPRIETOR BY GEORGE I\ PUTNAM, 155 BROADWAY. EontiDn: JOHN CHAPMAN, 142 STRAND. MDCCCLl. Kntered according to act os Congress, in the year 1851, by Andrew Dickinson, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Southern District of New-Y'Hc. PREFACE, To those who deem it necessary for , writer to appear before the public with a laboured A{ r-logy in one hand and his book in the other, the author of these sketches has nothing to say.

Unconscious of aught but a desire to please, he is not aware that such an effort, however humble it may be, requires more than a "<ord of explana tion — a knock at the door of his friends, not a herald of formal and mistrustful approach. Those who object that enough has been written, do not consider, that Europe is like a vast mine ; the more it is explored, the more inviting it becomes. Gems of beauty, ruins, or scenery, present an ever-varying phase to the eye of travellers, because never viewed from the same point of light. Thus minds, like mirrors of different shape, reflect a hundred images of one object. Who does not love to look often at pictures of friends and favourite scenes? That the field from which these unpretending sheaves are brought has been often gleaned, who knows not? Yet it is the fertile field that feels the frequent sickle.

Fresh ness, not variety, gives value to the grain. Besides, did the reaper bear his burden to a foreign mart, to un6ym pathizing strangers, he might well tremble lest his little load might find no buyer: but now he brings the harvest home, where, few though the sheaves may be, they are PREFACI IV welcome, because gathered by his hand, and laid by him at friendly feet. Far be it from him to refuse a welcome from the stranger ; but he has no wish to intrude : and is thus armed with hope on one side, and with confidence on the other. With suffering body and dejected mind, he set forth on a pilgrimage over the sea in search of relief. And now that he has found the lost pearl in more than its former lustre, and so many added treasures of delight, he feels that it would be ungrateful indeed, to make no effort to impart to others a taste of what was so freely granted to himself.

Chapter I

2Tfje "FoBajje. Creation's heir, the world, the world is mine ! — Goldsmith. Old Hercules, fare-well ! Though mighty in ancient fiction, and far stronger now, when embodied in the shape of a New-York steamtug, thou art no deity of the seas. Resign us, then, to the God of these swelling waves, not Neptune, riding on a car, fished from some slimy bed of the deep, but Him who once walked the waters, and holds the sea in the hollow of His hand. Return, then, to the city smoke and noise ; and while my country's hills grow blue before Night curtains the doors of ocean, now flung wide open before me, let me bid farewell to shores behind, and look forward in fancy to those of another world ! Adieu, my country, for a little while ! I go to seek, in a far distant clime, The genial skies of England's beauteous isle, Hygeian gales in Summer's glorious prime, And gather memories of olden time.

Might/ Atlantic ! o'er thy rolling deep, Bear up my barque when tossM nn wavps sublime : But, should thy billows rock my life to sleep, Some cavern of the sea my slumb'ring dust shall keep. My God will wake me on that wondrous morn, WTien boundless Ocean shall give up the dead, To beatific beauty then reborn ! Then why reluct at thought of such a bed? The Resurrection and the Life hath said — I will illume the darkness of thy tomb ! Light shall flash up and scatter all his gloom, And in the Vale of Death immortal flowers shall bloom ! i* EUKOPE. 6 Imagination -wings my ardent flight To the green land of bowers and gilded streams : And gorgeous landscapes dance before my sight, Castles, on whose old battlements soft gleams The Autumnal sun. Yet more my heart esteems The Heaven-illumin'd Christian brotherhood !

If aught were lovely, such my judgment deems, Who cheer the sick, and generously good, Ne'er let the stranger pine in grief and solitude ! O Heaven ! if thou wilt send me prosperous galea To waft me home across the western main, As friendly breezes fill my pilgrim-sails, My heart shall swell amid thy solemn fane, And holier bliss much more my heart enchain : 0 ! I will hail with joy each whitening spire That upward points from hill and peaceful plain, All gilt at Sabbath morn with trembling fire, While thoughts too big for speech my raptur'd soul Inspire ! How easy would it be to make more than one chapter the record of feelings that crowd upon a stranger to the ocean. But the only reward of such a recital would be a smile from the reader at emotions with which nothing but similar experience could create sympathy.

Let us leave sea-sickness as a tribute unwillingly paid to old Neptune, and hasten on deck for a breath of reviving air. Look out upon the ocean, not from some hill-top, but from the uneasy deck of a ship that rides the waves like a restless steed. The clear and almost cloudless sky, the circling horizon, shut down all around by the light blue curtains of heaven, upon the dark water, the exhilarating breeze, the majestic heaving of the ocean, with a cheerful and thankful spirit, are no small compensation for the waves of adversity that roll between one's home and himself, the lonely centre of a boundless hemisphere. I cannot forget many little kindnesses of several passen gers, especially an English lady, who prepared many little articles of diet during extreme illness, which the cabin table did not afford.

THE VOYAGE. 7 The firist Saturday night at sea was ushered by a terrific thunderstorm. Far away to the south-west, as momentary flashes lit the horizon, a black belt showed that Ocean was girding himself in earnest for the battle. Far off at first, the thunder muttered angrily and low, but soon broke awfully overhead, while lightning glared all around, diving inces santly into the black water. All night successive thunder storms broke over the ship. It was fearful and sublime; but though nervous from long disease, and weakened by sea sickness, I was strangely free from fear, both then and during the whole voyage. During the voyage were many beautiful days. One of these was the Sabbath — delightful resting-place in the voyage of life ! The sky was clear, and the ocean a mirror; and as we lay motionless in the midst of this vast watery prison, the soul would spring away, and take almost boundless range over the vivid landscapes of home, where the breeze, loaded with fragrance of opening flowers, wafts the mellow harmony of village bells, calling unnumbered worshippers to join the organ in the solemn hymn of praise.

But the murmuring ccean, like the whispers of angels upon the waters, was all the music I heard ; though at times the "floods clapped their hands," and the watery hills were "joyful before the Lord." But who can paint the opal tints of an ocean sunset, as the crimson clouds lie piled up in solemn pomp, bordered with flaming gold, in strange magnificence ! Should the reader imagine that the strain thus far in dulged gives promise of a sentimental journey, rather than a narrative of interesting facts and observations, he will please to recollect that three weeks upon the ocean give time for thoughts and feelings very different from those which arise amid the crowd. The novelty of the ocean wears quickly away, and then the mind turns within for food which it cannot find without. There were other pas- EUROPE. 8 sengers, it is true; but, for the most part, I preferred my own society to theirs.

Their principal employment was carousal, drinking punch, singing queer songs, and card playing till after midnight ; recalling the scene of Gil Bias in the robbers' cave, when " all spoke at once, and made a hellish noise." There was, however, but one instance of malignity and pugnacity. A German physician, of unpre tending air, proved himself a skilful practitioner by curing the maladies of all on board but mine, too deep for medical skill, the hated dyspepsia. This excited the jealousy of a certain personage, inflated with self-importance. Detraction and vituperation on the part of this Sangradowere omens of a sea-fight — a knock-down argumentum ad hominem. But the other quickly tested his pretensions by challenging his knowledge of Latin and Greek. Sometimes a school of grampuses, or bottle-nosed whales, would career around the ship : at other times the petril, that beautiful bird with bright golden vest, would flit around us, and then pass away "like the swift ships" that now and then whitened the horizon.

Sea-gulls, too, in search of food, often settled like ducks upon the water, and then gracefully balancing themselves in the air, sailed quickly out of sight. When we were about five hundred miles from England, a number of small larks fluttered round our ship, and one of them that ventured on board was so tame and tired that he came and sat upon my hand ! They had no doubt been driven out to sea by the northeasterly gale of the 21st and 22d of May. This touching incident reminding me of my own sojourn on the ocean, I pencilled the following while stretched out on the deck in pensive mood : THE LOST BIRD. Thou weary wanderer o'er the trackless sea ! 0 tell me whence and wherefore thou dost roam? I see thee lone, companionless, like me — Seek'st thon in ot! er realms a happier home ? THE VOYAGE. 9 Fear not to rest on me thy weary wing, Thou little fainting one, distress and lost : Welcome ! all day thou here may'st sit and sing, No more by winds on stormy billows tost.

Ere I would do thee harm, perish the hand Whereon thou sitt'st — thou joyous talisman ! I'll take thee, lost one ! to thy native land, That bounds the distant orient horizon. Hast thou long wander'd o'er the surging main ? Come to the sheltering ark and find sweet rest, Found nowhere, though sought everywhere in vain : Welcome ! poor weary one ! a welcome guest ! When I heard the steward cry "Land, land in view !" it was so affecting to a weary pilgrim of the ocean, that my whole frame shook with indescribable tremor. I rushed on deck, and beheld the Waterford lighthouse. The fog was so thick that we came very near running on the coast of Ireland. At daylight next morning, on looking out of the bull's-eye window, the mountains of Wales, in all the green glory of spring, stretched as far as sight could reach.

We were off the isle of Anglesey. The steward obtained eggs, milk and chickens, which disappeared with magic quickness. As we lay becalmed all day, I had a fine chance to sketch the highland coast of Wales, Anglesey and Flintshire. A thunderstorm of warm rain, smelling fresh of the land, passed over the ship, in the afternoon. The reverberation among the mountains was awfully grand ; and as the black thunder-clouds came booming over from the north-west with "loosened, aggravated roar," the lines in Thomson's Sum mer, probably written amid the same scenery, were brought to mind with triple power. How impressive the coincidence ! All the points described by the poet were in view at once. "There is Penmanmaur," said the pilot; "and there the top of Snowden's peak is just visible abc-e and beyond." At midnight I saw a long range of liglus on the Mersey. It was Liverpool in the distance. Before daylight I was safely moored in the Victoria Dock.

Chapter II

3Lr»CTflool— Bfrkcnljea'D. She stands Fail beckoning at the hospitable gate, And bids the stranger take repose and joy. Thomson. In England ! Alone, in the land of the Druid and the Saxon; of chivalry and arts; philosophy, poetry, and Chris tianity — our fatherland ! Such were the transporting emo tions which took possession of me, passing from the ship Centurion through the crowded streets of Liverpool. The buildings looked as though they were built a thousand years ago, and would stand a thousand more. Many of them have much architectural beauty; but an American will be struck with their dinginess from the prevalence of coal smoke. The streets are helter-skelter, and reminded me of an ill-constructed spider's web. An English beef steak at the Rotunda, near the Waterloo Dock, was relished none the less for being the first breakfast on terra-firma for three weeks.

Right glad was I to see this land of beef and beer, pudding and poultry. Apropos of poultry — we had them now and then on ship-board, it is true, embalmed in grease by the sable ruler of the roast ; tough customers they were; forming, from their venerable age, a most interesting study for the antiquarian. After breakfast I was in better trim for delving through tho city. Letters of introduction procured kind friends, who devoted their time and attention to me. With a good map I was able, after much practice, to thread my way through the long, labyrinthian streets, changing their name every now and then, and making confusion worse confounded. It is amusing to a stranger to see little donkeys trotting LIVERPOOL. 11 hither and thither, harnessed to small carts, making a most grotesque appearance by the side of huge draught horses, here in general use.

These animals were originally from Andalusia, and will draw three tons. Their hoofs are as large as a man's head. But their slow motion renders them unfit for other uses. Although Liverpool is comparatively a dirty city, yet its principal streets are cleaner than those of New-York. Some are M'Adamized; others paved with square stone blocks; and the "busses," as the English call them, roll over the pavement as smoothly as over a plank road. The police are dressed in blue uniforms, with military buttons, black belt, and white gloves. Their extremely neat appearance attracts the attention of strangers. They inarch in file to their stations, morning and evening, and are found at almost every corner. English habits and manners differ in many respects from ours, as might be expected. The mists of inveterate mutual prejudice are moving off, and objects erewhile distorted by a bleared vision, are assuming a more regular shape.

English hospitality is proverbial. I make no invidious comparisons, but it will always be delightful to recall my experience when a stranger in Britain. To no people on the face of the earth are the Britons more obliging than to Americans. I was invited to dinner almost daily by stran gers, who could have no other motive but natural goodness of heart. An order was sent me for admission to view St. George's Hall, now erecting, the largest edifice in England, except the two houses of Parliament in London. This huge building is of Yorkshire stone, of a drab colour. The immense interior columns of Scotch granite are polished by a recent discovery, as bright as those of the American capi tol. A ticket was also sent me, unasked, to a great national meeting at the Liverpool amphitheatre, for the protection of British industry.

Five thousand were present, including delegates from all parts of the kingdom, and about three hundred noblemen. The Earl of Wilton, Lord Stanley, Rev. Dr. M'Neile, and many other distinguished gentlemen, made speeches. Hundreds were unable to get admittance. The first Sunday morning in Liverpool rose peaceful and glorious. England had put on her brightest Summer robes to greet the God of this day of rest. I turned toward Prince's Park in the beautiful suburbs, a couple of miles from my lodgings, desirous to hear the far-famed Rev. Dr. Hugh M'Neile. The music of a hundred chimes greeted mo on my way, and I felt a strange, romantic delight, which not even the beauty of such a day at home could impart. Gradually rising, I caught a view of a wide landscape — the city stretching over pleasant hills, covered with costly structures; the sun glittering on the river Mersey; and far, fur away, the blue hills of Cheshire.

I could not forbear saying aloud, " Thou mak'st all Nature beauty to the eye, "And music to the ear.'* It is said of Mahomet, that he refused to stay at Damas cus, lest its bewitching scenery should make him forget the heavenly Paradise: but not being a Mahometan myself, I am never troubled with his scruples, and can rejoice at such types of the Paradise of God; and I could have lingered for hours, but the spire of St. Paul's was in sight — a tasteful structure of brown stone, in the pointed Gothic order. I heard the thunder-tones of the magnificent organ at a great distance; and as it was my first Sabbath in England it will not create wonder when I say, that what the light ning could net do in the ocean tempest, that heavenly music did— it unmanned me ! Ore of the beadles in black gowns placed me in a good seat.

The congregation was immense, some three thousand, and the music rapturous. Service was conducted by cne of the curates, and the Rev. Dr. M'Neile preached. He is tall and dignified, and his style flowing, REV. DR. M'NEILE. 13 natural, graceful, and terse. The doctors in divinity vre« red scarf over the clerical dress, and the collegiate degree may be known by the colour of the scarf. The sermon from the words, "Sell mo this day thy birthright," was chiefly in support of the law of primogeniture, against which many popular objections are raised. It was too eloquent to be de scribed, and too deeply tinged with political prejudice to be logical to an American ear. He gave a transparent state ment of objections, and then proceeded with equal skill to build up his own theory. He had no notes — only a little bible in his hand; and when he referred to it, I saw hun dreds of bibles fly open : a beautiful novelty, and not one that disturbed my peace.

The beginning of his discourse reminded me of a pile of lumber : what is there pleasing in such a sight ? At length the fabric rose in graceful proportions, like the one in which I sat. Like a stream that runs through open and barren fields, and then suddenly leaping and turning, hurries through luxuriant foliage, he concealed his argument under a veil of illustration too rich to allow its nakedness to appear. Primogeniture was divinely instituted : were it abolished, all motive to exertion would be destroyed, and universal pauperism result. If the world were one dead level, there would be no fertilizing streams pouring down the mountains — there would be no mountains. But God would not have it so. Then, in allusion to Victoria's coronation : " There was not one of the congregated thousands of all ranks on that occasion that sought any honour for him self : it was to do homage to the right of primogeniture in a little girl just emerging from childhood ! 0 'twas beauti ful !" said the preacher, carried by enthusiasm into the kindred current of loyalty.

Aye, all this was beautiful; and so, methought, is our own country, where primogeniture is no better known than pauperism and stagnant society; where industry, enterprise, and activity, are like the rivers, mountains, and cataracts; lofty, impetuous, and sublime! After church, while gazing forgetfully at the landscape from the verge of Prince's Park, I observed a gentleman approaching. "I beg your pardon, Sir — are you not from the United States?" "Yes, Sir; I came from New-York for health, and to see your beautiful country." "Well, Sir, I have been in your country, and was so well treated, that I desire to return that kindness. Come home with me to dinner." A tear stood in my eye, at the thought of finding Christian brethren, when lonely, and so far from home: I thought God sent him to me, and it would have been wrong to decline such singular hospitality.

On entering Elm House, Prince's Park, I was struck by the luxurious beauty around. Mr. Maples introduced me to all his family, and their social grace relieved me from all embarrassment. So different is true politeness from the formal stiffness, hauteur, and pretension, rife in some places it would be easy to name. Mr. M. said the Rev. Dr. Tyng preached at St. Paul's, and the congregation were so delighted, that some of them asked the Rev. Dr. M'Neile to invite him to preach again the same day, which he did. I mention this to show that our clergy are "set by" in England as much as theirs are with us. After a sumptuous dinner in English style, and a delightful hour. Mr. M. accompanied me through the magnificent park, and we took leave. The reader may tax his imagination — think of serpentine walks, lakes, slopes, lawns, dingles, shrubbery and flowers in every variety, roses, lilies, yellow broom, and "laburnum rich," holly, and hawthorn, red and white, the glory of all England; and then — go and see it : a voyage would be well repaid.

Having an invitation to tea and church with Mr. Farmer at Bootle, I passed on with all possible speed, often asking the way, always kindly directed ; but after wandering two hours, ready to drop down with fatigue, and finding myself two miles farther from the church than when I left Prince's Park, I entered St. Matthew's Church, Old Scotland Road. PARKS— A RUIN. 15 The picturesque scenery of Cheshire and the fresh air often invited me over the Mersey. One fine afternoon, while admiring the shrubbery in a private park at Birkenhead, the gardener said, "If you will come with me, Sir, I will show what will make you open your eyes." We walked on a couple of miles, and entered St. John's Park. Here Art seems to rival Nature with success. Beautiful diversity ! Here were lawns, level, soft and clean, hills, ledges of rock, ponds half seen through openings of rich foliage and pensile boughs, bridges spanning the winding stream, that like a modest maiden, made its beauty more bewitching by seldom displaying its charms ; flowering hawthorn, wild hedges, and variegated flowers, making many a luxurious nook for lake lings, that here and there nestled so quietly, bearing on their bosom snow-white swans, and inhabited by multitudes of fish.

Every now and then some historic or poetic effigy, at a sudden turn of a winding walk, surprised the sight — a shepherd with his dog by his side, and a little way on, a shepherdess and her lamb. One might mistake them for life itself, had he not all the while an indefinable feeling that he is wandering through a place of enchantment. There is a warrior fallen from his horse, struck down, doubtless, by the magician of the place, just as he was about to pass yonder bridge: his face wears a severe expression of pain; but different from the ineffable grief of this beautiful female resting on the knee of another. Do you see yonder jolly fid dler rasping away with all his might upon one string? Well done ! He is no doubt the Comus of this garden. And there is a fine statue of Sir William Wallace.

All these are in fine marble, and the cost of the whole garden must be enormous. This immense park is free to all. One day I came suddenly upon an old ruin near Birken head. It was an abbey and priory of the thirteenth century. Here was something for Old Mortality. As this was the first ruin I had seen in England, the reader will make some allowance for my boyish enthusiasm. Ivy as large as a man's wrist had twined through the crumbling old walls and buttresses, hi the crypt stone pillars supported arches on which the edifice rested. On an oblong brown stone was an inscription round the border : " Here lyeth Thomas Rainford, the good Prior of this House, who died May. [supposed 1400] on whose soul have mercy, 0 God." The date was scaled off. The stone had been taken from the floor and placed in the outer wall for preservation.

Mr. Breresford kindly gave me one of the triangular earthen tiles with which the floor was paved, which he said were much prized. From the tower of the modern Gothic church the view was glorious. Below was the roof of the old abbey covered with tall grass and gooseberry bushes. Over the Mersey, about the width of the Hudson at New-York, is Liverpool, reaching to the utmost point of sight; New-Brighton lighthouse, towers, and windmills; and forty miles off, half veiled in bluish haze, were the pyramid mountains of Wales. The birds were singing responses to the breeze that rustled through the churchyard grove that partly hid the abbey and priory. In passing through this beautiful town I stopped to look at some excavations, supposing the stone to be the founda tion of some immense feudal castle ; and was surprised to learn from a gentleman standing at his gate, that it was a quarry.

The stone were cut out in vast blocks, so smooth that the remaining part looked like a well built wall. On asking the gentleman if he could direct me to a coffee-house, saying I was an American, he replied, "O yes, there are several : but perhaps you can't do better than to take dinner with me?" I assured him I never thought of fishing for an invitation. " I know it," said he : " but you will be welcome to our roast mutton and rice pudding." So I rested for a pleasant hour with him. The name of my entertainer was Brown, a Scotchman, who said he had been in America. Having missed the way while wandering over the fields, LIVERPOOL DOCKS. 17 I asked a gentleman among the hedges, the way to Oxtou, a lovely swell above and beyond Birkenhead. He said he was a bit of a trespasser himself, and would show me.

We ascended the highest point of observation, where we remained an hour, drinking in the glorious and exhilarating scene. Parks, wide lawns, gardens, groves, and villages, decorated the boundless landscape. There were the azure mountains of Denbighshire, thirty miles away. On yonder high peak of Moel-Fammau, in Wales, is the Jubilee Column reared in 1814 to commemo rate the fiftieth year of the reign of George III. and the French peace after the battle of Waterloo. The sun glows on the Irish Sea, and the Dee. famed in song, winds between Hillbury Island and the main land. The rich estates around belong to the Earl of Shrewsbury, whose ancestors are styled in history "the proud Talbots." The stranger, on our return, asked me to stop at his house and rest ; after which, thank ing him for his kindness, he said, " Don't go yet — tea is ready in the next room."

The fourth invitation in one day ! The enormous cost and solidity of the Liverpool Docks are amazing. Of these there are thirty or forty. A high massive brick wall runs their entire length. Officers are stationed at the several entrances, which are shut at night. They are named after great men and events — Nelson, Wel lington, Canning, Clarence, Victoria, Trafalgar, Waterloo. Parliament was in vain petitioned to prevent the building of docks at Birkenhead, which bid fair to eclipse (but not with smoke) those of Liverpool. Birkenhead possesses many ad vanges for persons trading in Liverpool, being remarkably picturesque and salubrious, the prevailing westerly winds driving away the Liverpool smoke. Bebbington, Tranmere, Woodside, Liscard, and New-Brighton, stretch along the shore for miles, in beautifully undulating slopes.

Numerous powerful iron ferry-boats ply to various points. They look black and smoky ; and though the engines are below deck, yet for beauty, are unlike our aquatic palaces on the East River. 2*

Chapter III

ŒJjestrc. The shades of time serenely fall On every broken arch and ivied Vail. Rogers. Let us go to Chester. It is only fifteen miles from Monk's ferry, at Birkenhead. The Roman antiquities will delight and astonish you. Step into the railway carriage and take a seat. The porter swings his bell — there is a shrill whis tle — the stout fire-horse gives a vigorous puff and a snort or two — whiff ! phit-phit ! and away he goes, at the top of his speed, breathing hot steam, smoke and cinders ! We glide beautifully over the iron road; and the iron horse carries all before him. No; I am wrong : he leaves everything behind; for we hardly get a glimpse of the glowing landscape before it is far away out of sight. Why, the railroads in England are almost as good as they are in Yankeedom ! Better ; for the bed of the road is so hard with small stones, that no dust is raised ; and the rails being underlaid with felt, the cars roll as smoothly as over a plank road.