Great Britain, France and Belgium: a short tour in 1835

Preface

. The writer of these volumes is perfectly aware, that it is quite late in the day, to put forth a new book of travels in countries so near and so well known, as those which he visited, during his short absence from the United States. And should any one unluckily ask, why he did not keep his memorandums to himself and to the narrow circle of his friends, instead of offering them bound and lettered to the public, he might find it somewhat difficult to answer the question, even to his own satisfaction. He centainly does not think it any great affair, that he has crossed the Atlantic, and seen London and Paris and Ed inburgh, and put down a few hasty sketches in his note book. So unwittingly in the present instance has he been drawn into authorship, that during his absence, he had not the remotest idea of writing a Book ; and after his re turn, the utmost extent of his plan was to furnish some ten or fifteen communications for the columns of a religious newspaper.

But as is apt to be the case, even where a writer has not much to say, " they grew upon his hands," under extreme public indulgence, till some of his acquaintances, on whose judgment he has been wont to rely, began to inquire whether they might not be expected in a more convenient and permanent form. Whether the author has acted wisely, or presump tuously in revising them for the present edition, is a question which it belongs to others to decide. Perhaps some although they may think we may have tours and travels enough, and more than enough already, will extend their kind indulgence to these condensed notices, on the

PREFACE.

. ground, that different eyes often see the same objects in very different lights. The aspects and relations of things are almost infinite. Let a hundred individuals travel suc cessively along the same road, and visit the same castles and ruins and galleries and museums and parks and cathedrals — let them glide over the same waters, and climb the same mountains, and revel amid the enchantments of t'he same glorious scenery, and no two of them will see, or describe any thing exactly alike. Aster the ninety and nine have all published their sketches and observations, the hundreth, if he looks at objects through his own eyes, and gives free scope to his own reflections, untram melled by tours, pictures and guide-books, will still find something to say, which will be interesting and even new, to the common reader.

As the writer has availed himself of very few " helps," except in the statistical chapters of these volumes, he does not know how far he may have followed in the beaten track of earlier tourists, or how much he may have devi ated from it. Possibly he may have plucked a few wild flowers and some gleanings of fruit by the way side, which they did not observe, or could not stop to gather ; and if so, the public, he has no doubt, will receive them from his hand for quite as much as they are worth. Af ter all the pains he has taken to be accurate in his state ments, he cannot flatter himself, that he has fallen into no mistakes, though he hopes that whatever they may be, they are of minor importance. In one respect he has found it much more difficult to satisfy himself, than he anticipated". The most respectable British statistical wri ters, differ so much in their estimates and tables, (and this will be found true in every country,) that one is not a little perplexed, in putting down his own figures. This may be partly owing to the extreme difficulty of obtaining

PREFACE.

. V accurate returns, and still more, to the earlier and later dates of the tables. These from the very nature of the case, must be continually changing. The estimates of this year, however perfect, will in no case be entirely accurate, when applied to the next ; and sometimes the va riations will be very material. The writer of the present Tour can only say, that his reliance has been upon the best authorities within his reach. It is due to the Publishers to add, in conclusion, that the work has been unavoidably delayed nearly two months, by a calamitous fire, which laid their printing establishment in ashes, and destroyed a great part of the edition, when it was nearly through the press. Amherst College, April, 1838. CONTENTS.

Chapter I

Embarkation— the Ocean— Emblem of Eternity- Worship at sea — Distribution of Tracts — The coasts of Ireland and Wales — Arrival. 9 CHAP. II. First impressions of England — English scenery — Hedges — Roads — Health of the people — Custom Houses — Coaches — Coach-men — Hotels— Servants . 16 CHAP. III. Missionary Meeting in Birmingham — Great Organ — Immense crowd. 27 CHAP. IV. The London Anniversaries — A business Breakfast — Exeter Hall — Clapping and cheering — Platform Eulogy — Reception of Delegates — The I. O. U. Subscription. 33 CHAP. V. Charitable Institutions — Royal Infirmary for children — -.School for the indigent blind— Infant orphan Asylum— Asylum for the Indigent deaf and dumb children — Orphan Asylum. 50 CHAP. VI. Westminster Abbey — Henry Seventh's Chapel — The Poet's corner — Bunhill Fields. ' 65 CHAP. VII.

Gardens and Court-yards — Public Squares — Great Parks — Dissenting Chapels — Wesley's Chapel. 76 CHAP. VIII. Thames Tunnel — Dray-horses of London — Police — Shop-keepers. 88 CHAP. IX. Greenwich Hospital — Greenwich Observatory — Woolwich Arsenal Military Academy, and Barracks — Napoleon's Hearse. 98 CHAP. X. Cities and large Towns — Farm-houses — Cottages — Cheltenham — Public Buildings — Castles — Windsor — Warwick — Kenilworth. 110 CHAP. XI. Liverpool — Docks — Public Buildings — Cemeteries — Manchester — Chester — Birmingham— Nottingham— Sheffield —York— Durham. 130 CHAP. XII. Heaths— Moors— Downs— Rooks. 145 CHAP. XIII. Isle of Wight— Cowes— Ryde— Newport— Undercliff — Young Cottager — Dairyman's Daughter. 150 CHAP. XIV. Health of the English— Climate— Exercise in the open air — Riding — Walking — Dress — National temperament — Habits of eating. 163 CHAP. XV.

National character — Lower Classes — Two classes of Aristocracy, Rank and Wealth — Mirthfulness — Field sports — Dress — Houses — Furniture. CONTENTS. CHAP. XVI. Social Life — Neatness — Servants — Domestic Enjoyments — The Arts — National Courage — Industry — Love of Money — Inventive Genius — National Pride. 181 CHAP. XVII. Wealth and Power of Great Britain— Approach to England — Liverpool — Manchester — London — Cost of the Wars with France and Bonaparte — National resources. 191 CHAP. XVIII. British Agriculture — Rotation of crops — Wheat. 198 CHAP. XIX. British Manufactures — Iron Founderies — Woollen Manufacture — Cotton Manufacture — British Trade and Commerce — Condition of the Lower Classes — Tenantry — Female field labor— Condition of the Poor. 209 CHAP. XX. The Factory System — Invention of the Jenny — Invention of the Mule — English Operatives — Their extreme Dependence — Health — Morals — Improvidence and Dissipation — Disqualification for other employments — Effect of the same System in the United States— Opinions of English Writers — Overworking of the Younger Operatives — General Character and Condition. 221 CHAP. XXI.

The King— Royal prerogative— Sunday Reviws — English Nobility — Character — Education and talents of the Nobility — Whigs and Tories — Reform — Liberty of Speech and the Press — Petitions of Parliament — Popular Election. 235 CHAP. XXII. Parliament — House of Commons — Corporation Reform Bill — Scenes in the House — Violence of parties — Parliamentary Speakers — Mr. Hume — Mr. Buxton — Lord John Russell — O'Connell — Sir Robert Peel — Lord Broug ham. 247 CHAP. XXIII. English Language — Pronunciation — English Literature, British Periodicals and Newspapers — Liberty ofthe Press — Education in England — Common schools — Grammar Schools and Academies — Government of English schools — Institutions of the Establishment — Disabilities of Dissenters — Their schools — Theological Education. 269 CHAP. XXIV.

English Universities — Durham — London— Cambridge : — Oxford— New University Printing Press — Colleges — Theatre — Bodlean Library — Government of the Universities. 285 CHAP. XXV. Scraps from my Note Book. ENGLAND.

CHAPTER I.

Embarkation— the Ocean —Emblem of Eternity — Worship at sea Distribution of tracts — The coasts of Ireland and Wales — Arrival. March 24th. — Sailed from New York for Liverpool, in the Packet ship England, Capt. Maxwell, with thirty eight cabin passengers. Went down the bay with a fair wind, a bright sky and buoyant spirits. When the breeze freshened a little, and we had got into deep water, where the billows had room to swell and heave freely, the rolling of the ship called for all the nautical philosophy, which a friend had kindly taught me before I left home, in anticipation of this very emergency. In obedience to his instructions, I took my station upon the quarter deck, fixed my eye upon the maintop-mast, and began to keep time with the sluggish rocking under me, in order to preserve that internal equalibrium, which is so essential to a comfortable voyage across the Atlantic.

At first, I thought I was succeeding admirably ; but the motion soon became so capricious andanomalons,as to make me "lose my reckoning," and to shift the center of gravity — not so seriously, however, as to prevent my hearing the dinner-bell, at four o'clock, and descending the cabin stairs with my ship mates. There was the ta b_e, most sumptuously spread, and I was invited to take a seat near the head of it, but my heart failed me. Without stopping to apologise, or explain, I re* VOL. i. ENGLAND. treated to the deck, in all possible haste, and threw my philosophy overboard with as rueful a visage, as so great a" sacrifice may be supposed to have cost me. Once on deck, the next question was, how to get to my state room. State Room ! How full ot euphony, — when you would not give eighteen pence, for a lite lease of the most splendid palace in Europe.

And then, how to lift your head from your pillow, and re gain the round-house, next morning, is aproblem,which it requires all the aid of the steward to solve. Perhaps when you purchased your marble note-book, you in tended to put down a sentimental paragraph, or two, about bidding adieu to the receding highlands, and watching the blue line of your native shore, as it fades away and vanishes forever ! But what, under, such circumstances, as I have just glanced at, do you care for highlands, or lowlands — for country, or kin dred, or home ! — for any body, or anything, that you ever saw, or heard of? In crossing the ocean for the first time, one wishes to meet with as many sea monsters and water spouts and mountain waves and yawning gulfs, as is any how compatable with comfort and safety. But to own the truth, I have not much on this score, to boast of.

The weather, though for the most part pleasant enough while one is at sea, was too distressingly fine, to be much talked of, to marvelling friends on shore. As for those huge tenants of the deep, that ought to have crossed our track, and to have amused us with their gambols — owing to the lawless prowl ing of the Nantucket harpooners, or to some other cause, they did not once make their appearance, from Sandy Hook, to Cape Clear. One, or two ofthe pas sengers, indeed, more fortunate than the rest of us, " like to have seen a whale." They were quite sure, that a very respectable one threw up the brine against the sky, away in the horizon, on our larboard quartet. If his whale-ship had known, how much we all THE OCEAN. wanted too see him, and how safe he would have been along side ofour bulwarks, I am sure he would have favored us with a visit.

One small school of por poises, however, we did see, the second or third day out, and they did their best to entertain us; but as they were scarcely half grown, and could not keep up, we soon lost sight of them. Every body has heard of Mother Cary's chickens, and we expected, as a matter of course, to have had their company all the way over ; but whether the winter had been too hard for them, or what — we scarcely met with a dozen during the passage. Now and then however, to our great relief, a solitary gull would settle down upon the foam in the wake of the ship, or a nautilus bear ing down gallantly before the wind, would pass close under our stern, as if to ask, " Where are you bound V or to get our longitude. The ocean. — I had intended to descant a little up on this inexhaustible theme, and had actually put down two or three sentences, somewhat after this manner.

Noiv, the ocean appears to you like a boundless battle-field of the Titans, of the deepest and black est soil, ploughed up by their huge ordnance ; and then, as the wind rises, it is the same field, still more deeply furrowed, but partially covered with snow. In the clear sunshine, you love to sit, for hours together, upon the quarter railing, watching the shifting hues of emerald waters, as they sparkle beneath the purest frost-work : and in the evening, how is your soul wrapt, as from the same station, you watch those phos phorescent fires, which leap and flash from the crest of every wave ! At other times, when the surges come foaming and rushing by, you cannot help think ing how momentary would be the ripple, were a thousand mighty navies to founder at once, before the blast of the tempest.

What a vast solitude ! On and on you are driven, over the trackless waste, as if be sides your own little company, there was not another human being in the universe. ENGLAND. But I forget myself. Wide ocean — stormy ocean — angry ocean — mighty ocean ! These and such as these are the epithets which are every day employed, to describe that world of waters, which rolls between us and the land of our fathers. But you have only to cross this ocean once, to feel how poor, how inade quate every description of it is. There it lies — deep, dark, boundless : — always and equally indescribable, whether in its wrath, or repose ; and always ready to lift up its solemn voice, as if in scorn of the pen and the pencil. To form anything like an adequate concep tion of it, you must venture out into its fathomless do main, and see it sleeping, and waking, in storm, and in sunshine, and listen to it, as in the dark night, it " lifts up its waves " on high.

How vast, how infinite ! And yet there is One, who " measureth the waters in the hollow of his hand, and taketh up the isles as a very little thing. He gathereth the waters of the sea together as an heap : he layeth up the depth in store houses : He gave the sea his decree that the water should not pass his commandment : He shut up the sea with doors and made the garment thereof, and thick darkness a swadling band for it, and brake up for it his decreed place, and set bars and doors. O Lord how manifold are thy works, in wisdom hast thou made them all : the earth is full of thy riches. So is the great and wide sea, wherein are things creeping innumerable, both small and great beasts. There go the ships ; there is that leviathan which Thou hast made to play therein. These wait all upon thee ; that thou mayest give them their meat in duo season."

One thing, both in going out and in returning, made a deep, and I hope a profitable impression upon my mind. I seemed to myself, as it were, no longer in time, but in eternity. I knew we were borne rapidly onward, for the impetuous waters over the sides of the ship, and the log line, and the chronometer, and the quadrant, all told me so ; and yet, we seemed all EMBLEM OF ETERNITY. the while to stand still, in the centre of a great circle. Night and morning came and went, but there we were, apparently without tbe least change of position. I lay down and rose up, in the same place. When at early dawn, I went upon deck, there were the same objects, and it was the same great circle, and the same vault over our heads, which I left the night before. So from day to day, when I looked abroad, it was from the same deck, from the centre of the same circle, and up to the same silent and solemn vault of heaven, No shore — no island — no light house — no change !

Eternity — fathomless — shoreless — mysterious eter nity ! We shall all soon be in the centre of that aw ful, illimitable circle, never, never to change our position, with no finite duration to measure, and nothing to measure with ! Will it be, to look out on that " sea of glass, clear as crystal," and up to the glorious throne of God and the Lamb, or will it be, to buffet the billows of Almighty wrath, without hope and without end ' Another thing which made a very deep impression on my mind was that the extremes of long and short duration seemed to be brought mysteriously together. Each waking hour, (as I was never entirely free from sea-sickness,) passed slowlyand heavily away. Every day, taken by itself, seemed much longer, than upon land ; and yet, the weeks were a great deal shorter. They flew away, I could not tell how.

The Sabbath came and went : and when it was succeeded by another, I could not realize that half a week had elapsed. Our twenty four days passage. O they were long enough for fifty, as we slowly counted them off but upon the calender ; but when they were past, it was but an " inch or two of time !" In our outward bound passage, we were three Sabbaths at sea; and although in the recollection of past opportunities, 1 could not help exclaiming, ENGLAND. " How amiable are thy tabernacles. O Lord of hosts : — Blessed are they that dwell in thy house they will be still praising thee ' — there was something so new and so impressive, in opening my eyes upon the Lords day, on the bosom of the trackless ocean, that I could not regret my temporary separation from those, with whom I h*id so often taken sweet counsel, and gone to the house of God in company!"

Our Sabbaths were remarkably fine. Everything seemed to harmonize with the sacredness of the day. The air was soft and delightful. The winds slept — the waves slept — the heavens were bright, and the blue waters were spread out around us, like a molten look ing glass. How sacred this universal stillness and repose — how delightfully emblematical of that ''rest, which remaineth for the people of God." It was proposed by some of the passengers, that we should have religious service on deck, to which Capt. M. most kindly and cheerfully acceeded, and or dered the necessary arrangements to be made, so that all in the ship, (about 120,) might attend. I was in vited to officiate, and as there was no other clergyman on board, I was extremely glad that it was in my power to comply with the request.

I spoke briefly, on one occasion, from the 139th. Psalm — " Whither shall I go from thy spirit ? or whither shall I flee from thy presence ? If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there ; if I make my bed in hell, behold thou art there ; if I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the ■uttermost parts of the sea, even there shall thy hand lead me, and thy right hand shall hold me" On another Sabbath I selected that text in the sixth Chap, of Hebrews — ''Which hope we have, as an an chor to the soul, both suie and stedfast, and which en tereth into that within the vail." My little audience was attentive and serious ; and when the hymns were given out, some fine voices added exceedingly to the solemnity of the service. Taken altogether, there ARRIVAL. 15 is something most deeply impressive in public wor ship at sea.

I am sure I never had such feelings in my life. It seemed like a sort of intermediate state between earth and heaven. There you are, with your fellow worshipers, under the open firmament, in the middle of the great ocean ! Your frail bark is a mere speck upon the bosom of the waters. Nothing in sight, but the sky and the main. Were you to go down suddenly, with all sails set, who, in passing, a day afterwards, would know any thing more of your gal lant ship than of the last drop that fell from the clouds ? The sanctuaries, in which you have been ac customed to worship, and all your christian friends are far away, but God is there. You feel your own dependance, your own nothingness, and exclaim, " Lord what is man, that thou art mindful of him, or the son of man that thou visitest him?" Having laid in a good supply of tracts before we sailed from New York, I had the pleasure of distributing them among the crew and the steerage passengers.

They were uniformly well received, and it was delightful to see how eagerly many of them were read, especially on the Sabbath. April 18th.— We made Cape Clear, on the S. W. point of Ireland, and although that warm hearted Island gave us rather a cold reception, and thrust us out to sea again, we were not long in entering St. George's channel. The shores of Ireland and Wales, are bold and precipitous. The mountains in the distance, resemble those of Vermont, seen from Lake Champlain. It was Saturday noon, when we entered the Mersey, but before evening, we found ourselves safely landed at Liverpool. How far we were thankful to Him, " who gathereth the wind in his fists," for our prosperous voyage, I dare not say ; but I am sure that every one of us had the greatest reason to in quire, " What shall I render unto the Lord, for all his benefits towards me ?" ENGLAND.

Chapter II

First impressions of England — English scenery — Hedges — Roads — Health of tbe people — Custom Houses — Coaches — Coach-men — Hotels— Servants. It is said that first impressions are commonly im perfect, and that, of course, no traveller should write about any foreign country which he may happen to visit, till he has time to revise and correct his memoran da, by the aid of familiar intercourse, and leisurely observation. That this is a good general rule does not admit of a question ; and if it had been better observed by English Tourists in the United States, many of their sweeping remarks must have been entirely with held, or greatly qualified. It is literally impossible for any man, however intelligent, observing, and candid he may be, to take in all the bearings and reasons and relations of things at a glance ; so that if he makes up his final judgment upon first impressions, he will be sure to err, and almost certain to do injustice to the character and institutions of the people among whom he travels.

At the same time, 1 am far from admit ting that these first impressions are unimportant. On the contrary, they are sometimes more to be depended on, than even the results of subsequent experience. They are like the instant glance of a quick and well enlightened conscience, the more likely to be correct because there is no time for the intrusion of those tubtle biases, which are exceedingly apt to thrust themselves in and warp the judgment. FIRST IMPRESSIONS. Thus, when a person brought up under the religious Institutions of New-England, visits France for the first time, and witnesses the entire desecration of the Sabbath in Havre, or Paris, his first impressions are right ; and if he were to tell us, after spending a year in the French Capital, that the profanations of God's holy day, which he witnesses, are far less painful to him than they were twelve months before, we should ascribe it to the blunting of his moral sensibilities, and not to a more correct judgment.

And then again, there is a vividness, a freshness about first impressions, which in the nature of things cannot last. The mistake, does not lie in noting down first impressions, but in making an improper use of them, or rather in stopping short and resting satisfied, as if nothing more were to be learned by continued observation and inquiry. The true and the only safe way is, to carry our first impressions along with us, so that while we are gradually correcting them by better opportunities, we may at the same time avail ourselves of their aid, in coming to important con clusions. If they need to be modified by subsequent experience, it is quite as true, that experience in its turn needs to be corrected by their assistance. I had heard and read much, before I went to Eng land, of the beauty of its scenery, the perfection of its roads, and of the high state of cultivation which prevails throughout the country.

But when I came to see things with my own eyes, I found that my pre vious conceptions were extremely inadequate. I cannot do justice, at all, to any of those objects which interested and delighted me so much, the moment I saw them. But imagine yourself safely landed, at Liverpool, in the month of April. You recollect that winter still lingers in New-England and even much further south ; that the fields are brown, the trees leafless, and the roads bad. Not so in England. As you take the coach for London and go out of town, ENGLAND. you are very much surprised to see a deep June vegetation, especially when you recollect that you are in the fifty-fourth degree of north latitude, and you at first ascribe it to some peculiar advantage of soil, or early exposure. But as you are borne rapidly along, you find other fields still more verdant.

The scene opens wider and wider. Field beyond field, and lawn beyond lawn, rises in endless perspective. The farms for the most part, are, regularly laid out in squares and parallelograms, of from two to thirty or forty acres ; and in general they are laid down as smooth and level as the roller can make them. Here is a luxuriant wheat field, and there a fine meadow, and next a rich pasture. In one field busy preparations are making for putting in potatoes or turnips ; and in an other you see barley, or oats, just shooting up from the dark and rich soil. But not a fence, such as we meet with, every where in the United States, do you see in your two hundred miles ride from Liverpool to the Metropolis. All is hawthorn ; and these hedges, which are, for the most part, kept neatly trimmed, about the gardens and farm-houses, and by the road side, add more to the beauty of the country, than any description had pictured to my imagination.

The common method of planting the hedge is this : first a ridge is thrown up, perhaps a foot above the level of the ground, then the young thorn is planted in two parallel rows, about a foot or eighteen inches apart. The growth is not very rapid : but when it has attained the height of four or five feet, in about as many years, it becomes so dense that no domestic an imal will break through it. The leaf is small, deeply verdant, and beautifully serrated. In the month of May the hedges are clothed with a white fragrant blossom, very much resembling that of the thorn in our own country ; and it is then, that the honeysuckle and other wild flowers unfold their bright hues and mingle their sweetness with the hawthorn. The oak, SCENERY. the elm and the horse-chestnut are planted along in the hedges, at equal, or unequal distances, waving proudly over the charming growth beneath.

Single trees of great age, and of gigantic size, are sprinkled here and there, over the pastures and eveiy now and then you catch a glimpse in the distance, of a grove, or majestic park, which adds exceedingly to the beau ty of the landscape. Indeed, with the exception of the downs, and here and there a heath, English scenery, very much sur passed my expectations — not in boldness, not in grandeur — but in richness and beauty. It seemed to me, as I passed rapidly over the Island in various directions, more like one interminable series of gardens and pleasure grounds, than any thing else to which I could compare it. In addition to what I have already mentioned, the turreted castles and halls ofthe nobility and gentry ; their princely domains, sometimes embracing several miles square of fine territory, and enclosing gardens, lawns, and forests, adorned with avenues, and fish-ponds, and streams — All these and many other features of the island, serve to increase your admiration of what nature and industry and taste have done for our 'father' land ! 1 speak of my first impressions of the country, wherever I went.