Old world scenes

Front matter

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Preface

'Tis pleasant sure to see one's name in print,

A book's a book — although there's nothing in't. — Byron.

This trifle, begun to please only myself and my own private fancy, was laid on the shelf; but some friends having seen it, induced me, by dint of saying they liked it, to put ft in print. That is, having come to this very conclusion, I consulted them when it could make no confusion.

Fable for Critics.

Friendly Header :

I offer for thy perusal the following narrative" of a journey to the vestibule of the Old "World. The child of my brain, — my ambition the father, — the mother my fancy — I send it forth with fear and trembling to seek its level in the Kepublic of Letters.

A name, a name, — is the magic spell that tosses volumes to an eager world ; — the herald that announces the advent of a newborn child of Intellect ; — the Angel that troubles the waters of the Literary Bethesda, and straightway plunges in the candidate for public favor, to heal it of whatsoever disease it has, — to guard it from the plague-spot of the critic's touch and the blighting breath of public scorn, of general, perhaps unmerited neglect. My little book is totally without this talismanic charm.

My aim has been to supply to the intelligent youth of our land a faithful description, — enlivened with the ebullitions of a fancy somewhat vigorous rather than delicate, — of the great scenes of artistic, of architectural, and historic interest in Great Britain and Paris — a work, the want of which I often and severely felt in my younger days.

I have not descended to- the minuter details of my journey ; for what reader would care to be involved in the all-absorbing

Vlll PREFACE.

questions of my personal affairs : — whether I slept well or ill at such a place, — whether I dined on mutton chops or herring, — how often the rain penetrated beyond my overcoat, — or how often my hat went sailing away on the southern breeze, setting at nought all considerations of propriety, — triumphantly asking to be let alone, and obstinately defying the coercive powers of the central government.

I am fully aware that a writer's individuality, — one of the greatest charms of our literary travelers, — is often wrapped up in questions of these trivial natures ; but such is not my province. My fancy is not sufficiently playful to invest these little matters with that halo of beauty which alone would entitle them to the attention of my readers, if indeed that class of people are found.

But one personal trait I have embodied: one which many, perhaps most, would keep in the background as far as possible — that is, my poverty. I made the journey on less than two hundred and twenty dollars, and have paraded this fact in a "supplementary chapter, with a full account of my way of traveling ; thus endeavoring to show to our ^Republican boys that a vast fund of enjoyment lays fully and fairly within their reach, if they will only consent to look at the world without endeavoring to make themselves conspicuous, and fitting themselves out with all the trappings of the traveler's portmanteau : in short, if they will consent to look at the world without expecting the world to look at them.

I feel confident I enjoyed as full, as free access to all the chief places of interest, as if I had laid out twice ten-fold the sum. My descriptions may be relied on as truthful, and the sentiment which will occasionally be found, is that of an ardent lover of the fine arts, an admirer of the beautiful in nature, an enthusiast perhaps amid the scenes of historic fame and the noble ruins of antiquity ; whose heart, however, has never been weaned from the love of the star-spangled banner — whose affections never estranged from the glorious institutions of our own America.

Salem, Ohio, 1st Month, 1863.

Chapter XXIII. Scenery of the Wye, - 130

Analysis of its Character — Double View — Wynd Cliff — Tintern Abbey— Falls of Llandogo— Departure from the Wye.

Chapter XXIY. Stratford-on-Avon, - 138

Shakspeare's Birth-Place — Scenes of his Childhood — His Garden— His Grave — Tribute to his Memory.

Chapter XL. Homeward Voyage, - 252

Great Eastern leaving Liverpool — Farewell to Old England—Dropping Anchor— Departure from Ireland— Sunset at Sea — Wake of the Vessel— Fourth of July at Sea- Tribute to my Native Land— Sabbath at Sea— One of Life's Fairest Days— Land at New York.

Chapter XLI. Supplementary. Economy

in Travel, - - 264

Motives and Expenses of the Journey— The Traveler'9 Reveries — Refined Alchemy — Poverty on a Journey — Model Lodging Houses — My Enjoyments — The Attained and the Prospective.

OLD WORLD SCENES.

Chapter I

EMBARKING — FIRST VIEW OF OCEAN — PHOSPHORESCENCE — MOONLIGHT — SUNRISE — ROUGH WEATHER — HOL YHEAD.

" Welcome, welcome, ye dark blue waves, And when you fail my sight, Welcome, green mountains and dark caves; My native land, good night!" — Byron.

t$P VOYAGE across the Atlantic opens up many new scenes of interest to one who has always resided in the remote interior. The change is so complete and thorough, and the points of comparison with former experience so few, that it almost seems like entering upon a new stage of existence.

On a beautiful autumnal morning we embarked from Philadelphia, to try the dangers and the glories of the sea. A rushing crowd of excited passengers and anxious friends thronged the deck and filled the narrow cabins — piles of baggage, continually increasing, encroached on the already crowded space — the bustle of preparation among the seamen and officers had no tendency to allay the confusion — while the novelty of the scene, and the mingled emotions with which we looked forward to our uncertain sojourn on the bounding billows of the ocean, combined to throw a strange enchantment over the whole proceeding.

Meanwhile, the order went forth among the multitude, proclaimed in thunder tones, that all should go ashore who were not bound for the ocean voyngc. Then came 1

2 FIRST VIEW OF OCEAN.

the frequent adieu, the fervent blessing, the earnest expression of hope for our safety, and the tearing asunder of ties that had long been a solace to life. The moorings were loosed, and our noble vessel floated out from the shore, amid the cheerings of friends and the excited emotions of the anxious crowds. Parting salutes were repeatedly waved from ship to shore, and the breeze which gently carried us out upon the water, wafted back the answering adieu, and the cordial blessings of friends who remained behind.

The objects on shore now assumed the appearance of a vast moving panorama; the City of Brotherly Love and the shores of the old Keystone State passed in review before us'as we glided down the Delaware, till the shades of evening closed around, and the landscape faded for the night. In the morning we were nearing the ocean ; the watery waste is widening before us ; the land appears like a wisp of vapor just hovering on the distant horizon, and our noble vessel walks gracefully out on the bosom of the eternal deep. I feel the grandeur of the view — it is impressive, new, sublime ! Standing thus upon the margin of the mighty ocean, I look forward with awe and trembling into its illimitable expanse — its unbounded arena of wonders, and hail the beauties and the glories which are just opening up before me ; then turn once more to my native land, and wave a fond adieu.

The ocean is glorious ! Scenes of new and varied beauty constantly await you. It is delightful to lean over the bulwarks and. watch the vessel ploughing her way through the waters which break in foam around her prow, while the feelings that arise within you as you gaze down into that vast, unfathomable, mysterious profound, must be experienced to be understood. What wild, fantastic caverns, yawning in horrid obscurity, but hung with gems and brilliants ; what craggy mountain ranges, rising you know not how near the surface ; what wide plains and savannas, covered with luxuriant sea-weed and peopled with monsters of the deep — may lie concealed in the abyss beneath you, is left for the fancy alone to determine — and where all is a fearful mystery, the fancy's range is wide and free.

PHOSPHORESCENCE— MOONLIGHT. 8

And the phosphorescence of the ocean is one of Nature's greatest wonders. In a dark, moonless night, when a heavy head wind is baffling you, the vessel seems to be running through a mass of fiery snow. All along the sides of the ship, and far back in the troubled wake, wherever the foam is driven, the water sparkles and glistens with the most brilliant corruscations of light ; now a continuous flash runs along the crest of the wave, as though a taper was burning beneath its surface ; and now a dazzling sheet of light goes dancing on in the boiling foam, as though a fragment of the moon had fallen to mingle with the glory of the sea; and these again set off the intense whiteness of the foam to the best advantage, while the white-caps that go roaming over the watery waste sparkle with the same mysterious light, as though the waves were tipped with fire, like myriads of glowworms gleaming in the distance ; or, as my wayward fancy continually suggested, as though the sea-nymphs were sporting on the turbulent waters by the light of their diamond lamps — while ever and anon the giant waves come surging up from the blackness of night, and beating heavily against the prow of the vessel, go tumbling off to leeward in an avalanche of fiery foam.

And then the moonlight ! It is beautiful on land — on the ocean it is fairy-like ! flashing down on the tranquil waters with that mild and gentle radiance which gives them a new and enrapturing beauty as they go dancing along in their brightness and joy, keeping time to the music of the evening breeze as it warbles its anthem of praise ; while the phosphorescent fires that are wont to sparkle in our wake, pale their tiny lustre beneath the full effulgence of the lunar day.

Occasionally a glorious sunrise awaited us. One of these was peculiarly fine. A dense bank of clouds broken into separate masses, lay along the eastern sky, and warmed up into life and beauty as the sun approached their borders; deep openings, like rugged chasms, were torn far into their inmost recesses, flashing with all the gorgeous splendors of advancing day, while tint on tint went Sorting up into the depths of ether, from brightest crimson fading gently

4 ROUGH WEATHER.

downward to the lovely violet, and mingling with the azure sky in the faintest tinge of purple ! These ragged caverns of the sky, lighted up with celestial fires, and glowing with every hue reflected light can give — sometimes piercing the entire stratum of vapor, and giving a glimpse of the tathomless sky beyond, seemed like the opening vistas to the realms of life that lie beyond the grave.

Head winds baffled us for many days, and beat us into high northern latitudes, where the short winter days were still further contracted; the sun might almost be said to skim the horizon — the pole star of course riding correspondingly high, while rainbows played around us in the showers of noon, and occasionally formed a perfect circle of the most vivid colors, broken only by the shadow of the ship. In these stormy days it is fearfully sublime to stand on the deck and watch the foam-capped waves as they go rolling and rumbling and roaring on in their wild and unfettered career, tossing the mighty vessel as a bubble on their bosom — or, in the evening, when the moon is pouring down its flood of crystal radiance on the world of waters, to see them come up from the dim and misty distance, foaming with white-caps and raging with spray, and go rolling on into darkness and gloom to leeward ; while the terrific force with which they strike our bows sends a quiver from stem to stern, and the spray, borne aloft by the raging winds, dashes over the sails and yards.* The color of the sea in deep water might be described as a jet black, tinged with the deepest indigo, and dashed with the slighest touch of green.

Finally the wind veered round in our favor, and continuing very strong, we bounded forward with

* The waves do not run in those long unbroken swells which landsmen are apt to imagine, but are piled up in irregular masses, like myriads of hay-cocks floating over a meadow, each retaining its separate form and driven at random among its fellows. In the roughest sea we experienced, the second wave was always visible from our deck over the top of the first, or that next the ship. In calm water our deck stood about twenty feet above the surface of the sea. Hence it would seem the waves do not roll as high as is generally supposed ; and the term mountain waves is a gross exaggeration.

HOLYHEAD — PILOT. 5

impetuous speed. As we approached the heights of Holyhead, where the conflicting tides were meeting, as they swept around that rugged headland, the scene became grand beyond description. The sea was raging with fearful violence, and giant waves ever and anon came dashing against our stern, and breaking into a torrent of foam, went plunging along by our side, as it were a perfect cataract of snow, raging and roaring with terrific fury, like a traveling Niagara escorting the old Wyoming. The beautiful green of the water, so totally different from that of the deep sea, resembled the vernal tinge of a vast rolling meadow of waving and luxuriant verdure. The ship labored and struggled in the raging waters — now mounting to the top of a giant wave, our horizon expanded far away in the distance — now plunging down to the bottom of the abyss, our sight was contracted to a span; anon, reeling over, she would tumble headlong into the trough of the sea, and again, for a brief period, steady herself for the conflict with a firm and defiant tread. In the midst of this exciting scene, the bald and hoary cliffs of Holyhead, which we had been anxiously looking for, suddenly loomed up to view, dimly visible in the mists and clouds which enveloped us.

What a triumph of mind is here ! That our captain should thus guide his bark from the fathomless wilds of the mid-Atlantic — feeling his way across this waste of waters solely by the magic aid of the compass and the quadrant — should enter the English Channel, course along its winding, narrow route, without once seeing land, and in the midst of cloud, and storm, and fog, and sunken, treacherous rocks, thus run directly to the bold and craggy headland which was to be one of our landmarks — was indeed an exhibition of skill and dexterity that might well command our admiration.

We now began to look anxiously for a pilot; but the shades of evening closed around, and no guide made his appearance. A signal light was burned on the forecastle, which flashed up for a few moments in vivid lustre, lighting the deck like a gleam of day, and shedding a radiance far over the boisterous waves. All hands watched 1*

6 LIVERPOOL.

with intense anxiety for a reply. A few moments elapsed, when a glare of brilliant light flashed out in the murky darkness — an answering signal from the watchful guide who had beheld and responded to our call. What a moment of relief was that, when at length the pilot came alongside and climbed to our deck !

The next day the shores of old England became visible in the distance, and as we floated up the Mersey, the town of Liverpool was seen on the horizon, lying in a cloud of fog, through which a forest of masts peered upward, giving one the idea of a vast fleet of ships stranded in a fog-bank. How cordially did we greet the welcome sight ! To me it had the double charm of being the harbinger of safety after our weary voyage, and the opening view of that ancient land which had for so many years been tha great object of my curiosity; and many fond dreams of my childhood and youth seemed now about to be realized !

Whilst waiting at the custom house to have my baggage examined, a tinge of gloom stole over me. Glad to find my feet once more on firm ground, I said to myself, And I am at last in England; and the question arose with rather startling energy, And for what purpose am I here ? But the answer was not so vivid. But meeting with a cordial friend among strangers is an excellent antidote for the blues.

Chapter II

LIVERPOOL — A LETTER FROM HOME — ST. GEORGE'S HALL — NORTH CONCERT ROOM — BIRKENHEAD — ENGLISH AND AMERICAN PATRIOTISM.

" Island of bliss! amid the subject seas That thunder round thy rocky coast, * * * *••••* all assaults

Baffling, as thy hoar cliffs the loud sea wave."— Thomson.

'JfjJpFON landing in Liverpool, an American feels almost as if he had entered another world. The general air of the town is so totally different from

that of our American cities, that he feels as if ranging the

LETTER FROM HOME. 7 '

thoroughfares of a city of the olden time, that has survived its appropriate age and lingered among the changes of the present, a relic of antiquity mingling with the refinements of an advancing civilization. The massive grandeur of the buildings, the solemn, quaint, peculiar ornaments, the distinctions in society, all combine to impress him with a feeling of singular isolation, and make him realize that he has entered upon a new phase of life. It is a town of splendor and gaudy show, of exquisite taste and incalculable wealth, of architecture the most massive and durable, with more, however, of majesty than grace — more of grandeur than beauty.

Here I found a letter awaiting me from home. Would you know the full value of a letter ? Cut yourself loose from your friends and acquaintances, bid adieu to your native shores, roam over the wastes of ocean for weeks, storm-swept and homeless, and finally land in a crowded city, where myriads of people throng around, but not one familiar face wears a smile for you ; and when just recovering from the first touch of home-sickness which will probably steal over you, let a stranger step up and carelessly hand you a letter. You know the hand-writing, a message from a loved one at home. You can not take that letter calmly ; in spite of your puny efforts it is seized with a convulsive grasp; you clutch with affectionate violence the mystic hand thus stretched out to you across the howling waste of ocean, and from that time^feel new life and vigor darting through your frame ; the tie that binds you to your home is not yet wholly severed, but the messages of kind remembrance are wafted to you on the wings of steam, and seek you with unerring certainty amid the countless millions of a foreign land. All hail to our wondrous system of postal arrangements ! It makes man ubiquitous. No corner of the civilized world so remote, no hamlet so secluded, but he can send his paper messengers to speak his will, and breathe his thoughts in friendship's private ear.

St. George's Hall is one of the principal buildings of Liverpool. A long'colonnade of Corinthian pillars adorns the eastern front, behind which a magnificent portico gives

8 ST. GEORGE'S HALL— BIRKENHEAD.

entrance to the principal hall. In front stretches a spacious yard paved with large flags, and surrounded by an iron chain, with openings here and there for entrance, and four massive lions, on heavy pedestals of stone, looking fiercely on the passing crowds, guard these approaches to the noble building. A pediment at one end, surmounting a heavy colonnade, bears a large bass-relief, emblematic of the power and prosperity of Britain, and forms a magnificent vestibule j while the opposite end of the building projects in a semicircular colonnade supporting a handsome entablature.

The principal hall is a gorgeous apartment. The arched ceiling is richly ornamented by emblazoned shields, deeply sunk panels and gilded stars, and rests on numerous pillars of alternate white and clouded marble, behind which deep recesses form convenient niches for statues of many noted men, and other appropriate decorations. The north concert room is a circular apartment, gorgeous with gilding and panel work. The ceiling is an immense central star, from which rays of different colors radiate to the circumference ; the intervening spaces richly set with the national emblems — the lion, the rose, and the royal monograms. From the centre hangs a glass chandelier encircled with several rings of burners, and the base exhibiting a profusion of prisms and globes, pillars, leaves and wreathes, flashing the most brilliant prismatic hues, and glittering with streams and stars of reflected light.

Immediately opposite the hall stands Lime street station, the terminus of the Great Northern Railway. It is a splendid specimen of rail road architecture; a fine Corinthian front rivals that of St. George's Hall itself, and within, a light and graceful roof, self-supported by a complex system of arches, braces and beams, springs in one wide sweep over the entire area. Close by is the Free Library, where the liberality of a private citizen has thrown open to the use of the public a large collection of books, and an extensive museum of art and natural history.

On the opposite side of the Mersey is the town of Birkenhead, where a large park is thrown open to the public; a perfect Eden for retreat from the noise and

ENGLISH AND AMERICAN PATRIOTISiM. 9

clatter of the streets. Lovely lakes, and estuaries from the river, with swans playing upon their waters, agreeably diversify the scene, and the wildness of nature is well imitated by artificial hills and rocky defiles, so perfect as to deceive the eye at a careless view ; while thickets of plane wood and evergreens embellish the grounds, and extensive groves are scattered here and there, amid whose branches the birds are twittering cheerily, giving a rural character to the scene that is very refreshing.

When in a foreign country a man always loves to talk of home, and will often find himself watching with no small degree of nervous curiosity, the tone and the manner in which his native land is spoken of, and the feelings which are manifested toward his government. New styles of thought, new forms of expression, new trains of feeling are opened to the stranger's observation ; and the basis of attachment to our own country, he soon detects to be different according to the circumstances which surround the human family. While patriotism is, perhaps, a universal sentiment in the mind of man, and the lines of Montgomery —

'< There is a land, of every land the pride, Beloved by Heaven o'er all the world beside ; Seek you that land? Know then, where e'er yon roam, That first, best country, ever is at home" —

are applicable to as great a variety of men as any other that can be selected, yet we find the grounds of attachment almost equally various, and often the sarcastic repartees that pass from people to people, through the medium of the press, are based in a failure to recognize in each other the essential ingredients of that sentiment which, in some form, is common to the entire race of man.

Hence it is that the English and Americans can scarcely understand each other's patriotic feelings. They spring from a different class of emotions, and cluster around different parent stems. Patriotism with us, is emphatically a love of country. At no remote period our fathers settled this virgin soil ; they redeemed it from its native wildness, and clothed it with luxuriant harvests ; they checkered the land with innumerable farms, and dotted it with countless

10 PATRIOTISM.

households, where comfort nnd happiness abide, where a man is supreme lord of his little spot of earth, and enjoys the utmost measure of independence consistent with the well-being of society. They fought and fell, that the blessings of freedom might be transmitted to their posterity, and bequeathed to us a legacy of liberty and honor, of which we may well be proud. We feel that our country is peculiarly our own ; and cling to her with all the fond affection of a bridegroom for his youthful bride.

With them the case is different. Their patriotism is rather a pride of country. Their history ranges back through centuries of power and glory. Their antique churches, their ruined abbeys, their frowning castles, point backward to a remote antiquity, and form a connecting link between the busy present and the dim and misty past. Their ancestors have lived for ages on the estates of the same line of titled nabobs, and their aristocratic blood flows in unsullied purity through bodies not contaminated with plebeian dross ; and the Englishman retires within himself in sullen pride, and looks around on neighboring nations with the stern and haughty grandeur of his patron lion. His ancestors fought under the banner of an Alfred and an Edward — ours under the banner of Freedom. They established a crushing system of caste, where talent is superseded by title ; we made every man a nobleman, and heir apparent to the throne.

KIRKSTAL ABBEY. 11

Chapter III. Kirkstal Abbey — Contrast Of The Present And Past

VIEW OF THE RUINS FOUNTAINS ABBEY DISTANT

VIEW — TRIBUTE TO MODERN IMPROVEMENT — THE LOCO- MOTIVE— EXPRESS TRAIN. IN GREECE.

" I do love these ancient ruins ; We never tread upon them, "but we set Our foot upon some reverend history.'' — Webster.

" Dark and gloomy shadows fall O'er the ivied abbey wall." — Dyer.

the little village of Kirkstal, three miles from Leeds in Yorkshire, stand the ruins of a fine old 'abbey. It is situated in a beautiful green meadow, and is a magnificent relic of the olden time. These abbeys were formerly the residences of the monks, who wielded an unbounded influence over the human mind, hanging like a nightmare on society, sapping its intellectual power and palsying all its energies.

When Henry VIII. committed the one good act of his reign — freeing his country from the benumbing influence of the Papal tyranny, and abolishing the monasteries which had degenerated, like other institutions of the Roman hierarchy, into festering dens of pollution — the monks were expelled from their livings, and their mighty temples confiscated to the crown and abandoned to solitude and decay. Their leaden roofs were removed, and the mighty walls now rear their -giant forms to the winds and rains of heaven ; the massive pillars and the lofty towers lift up their heads to the open sky, a dense foliage of ivy has usurped the place of the tapestry and gilded ornaments of former days, and those cloistered aisles and solemn halls that erewhile resounded with the doleful chantings of the monks, are silent and solitary, save when they echo the tread of the curious traveler, or when the joyous bird flits through their noble portals and pours forth its cheerful song. The day was dark and gloomy, and favorable to contemplation. I chanced to be alone amid these deserted ruins, and for some time 'could not even find a guide.

12 VIEW OF THE RUINS.

While ruminating on this scene of beautiful desolation, admiring the ever varying perspective of the view as I rambled through those ancient halls, I was aroused by the shrill scream of the locomotive ; and, looking out through the ruined and mouldering arches of centuries long gone by, I saw the steam chariot gracefully gliding along the grassy plain, the pride and wonder of the present age. The contrast startled me. Verily, thought I, the cunning hand of Time, playing with the complex network of human events, is weaving a motley web ; he is mingling the salient points of all ages in beauteous fantastic confusion ; the glories of the olden time, the wonders of the stagnant past, are dovetailed into the ever-flowing present, and the growing panorama is ever revealing the mighty achievements, the ceaseless improvements, but not the ultimate capabilities of man.

From the grounds on the south a most beautiful view is obtained. The whole mass of ruins swells out in the finest perspective. A profusion of broken walls and crumbling arches, with the large bulk of the main building in the background, gives a most impressive view of the ravages of time. Ten or twelve large trees are growing in the old apartments of the monks, and toss their giant branches in the breeze, as if to tell at once of the frailty and the durability of these proud works of man. The crumbled walls are again crumbling away, and the piles of rubbish mouldering to dust, over which the beautiful but sombre ivy climbs in graceful wreaths, screening the repulsive features of decay with a mantle of living green, and decking with a mimic tracery of life this mass of ruined ruins ruining. While indulging the thoughts which such a scene would naturally excite, a sudden gleam of sunshine broke from behind a parted cloud and streamed through the broken portals and ragged arch-ways, throwing a flood of golden light over the lofty walls and the ivy-mantled tower, bringing out a most enchanting perspective of light and shade, and revealing a new and enrapturing charm in the mysterious magic of desolation.