Over the ocean : or, Glimpses of travel in many lands

Front matter

by

Mrs. Corrigan

OVER THE OCEAN,

LETTER I. ANGLESEA ITS COrPER WORKS THE HIVER MERSEY THE

ROAD SIDE EATON HALL CHESTER ITS CATHEDRAL)

&C. LIVERPOOL DOCKS STREETS MANCHESTER YORK

CATHEDRAL IX>"S, DURHAM NEWCASTLE-UPON-TYNE

CHEVIOT HILLS.

Liverpool, June 8.

Yesterday, after passing the green fields of Anglesea, its copper works and wind-mill, we first set foot on English ground, and no sooner had we passed our baggage at the custom-house than we commenced sight seeing, and visited the public buildings, the exchange, town hall, &c. To-day we may say our travel truly began, for we have been to the very old town of Chester, and to Eaton Hall, three miles beyond. We first crossed the Mersey, in a ferry boat much larger than any we have, and like all vessels of every description here, every part was painted black, on accouiit of their burning sea-coal, whose smoky atmosphere turns every thing to its own hue in a short time. The whole of the machinery is always below deck, so that you see nothing above but a tall pipe, which is constantly belching forth the blackest and densest smoke imaginable.

THE ROAD SIDE.

The Mersey will at low tide admit the largest ships, and has a rise of twenty feet, but it is a very difficult river to navigate, owing to the many sand-bars at its mouth. The banks of the river are dotted with beautiful villas and cottages — with lawns and terraces, separated by the only fence known here, a beautiful hedge. On the other side of the river we were taken by an omnibus to the railroad station, and thence in most elegant and comfortable cars sixteen miles to Chester ; and oh, what an Eden, we passed through ! It seems as if I could write nothing but exclamations ; but I will try. The foliage of the trees here is dark green, universally of one shade differing from our American forests, in which you see every tint and variety of that color. Here what we call grass-green is hardly known. The trees are constantly trimmed, so that the branches are more scattered, and the growth being luxuriant, the foliage on all seems to be in clumps over the tree, and is more picturesque than ours, though not so full of leaves. The fields, divided from each other, and the road by hedges, which at some seasons are full of flowers perfuming the air, are beautiful beyond description, and the luxuriance exceeds every thing but our golden West. Every house and cottage by the road-side has its vines running over the porch, and the windows fdled with pots of flowers, while every inch of ground was covered with plants and flowers. Even the thatched roofed cottage had beds of flowers and vegetables extending along the road side. Instead of banks of yellow sand, as with us, the sides of the railroad are covered with rich grass, and not only grass, but wild flowers of every color of the rainbow. Looking over this wide-spread garden, you here see a tall wind-mill painted white or brown, and its large arms turning round and round as if battling with the air, and then through another opening, an old brown church, with its gothic spire and windows, and its steeple ever verdant with "that rare old plant, the Ivy

EATON HALL.

Green." I could have cried as I gazed with the excess and variety of my emotions, for we were whirled past these objects with such rapidity, that it was painful for the mind to grasp them as they were presented to the eye. I can compare it to nothing but a moving panorama. They have forests, too, as thick and dense, though not as extensive as the American ; and the body of every tree of any size was from root to branch covered with Ivy. (Oh, how I wish I could send the trunk of one to"*cousin H.) And then in contrast were here and there the gentlemen's parks, with the noble oaks standing separate and apart, cleared of all underwood, with; a beautiful green sward beneath. And there was a canal, which instead of bemg straight as with us, is beautifully serpentine, winding in and out like a selfwilled river, with nothing to hinder its going where it listeth. The tow path was about four feet wide, with a border of grass, a foot and a half wide on the side next the water, and shaded all along by a hedge of trees.

At the termination of the railroad, we took an open carriage and rode to Chester. We thought the houses in Liverpool dark and dingy, but they have not the appearance of antiquity that strikes you here, and of the strength and solidity of every thing on this side of the Atlantic, you can form no idea without seeing. Even the bridges of the streets passing over the railroad, seem to contain all the materials of one of our city stone churches. The streets of the suburbs of the town are lined with little low thatched roof stone-houses, and scarce a window but had a thick curtain of plants and flowers in pots, in every house we passed. The views we send, will give you a good idea of Eaton Hall, which we have seen to-day, but I do assure you, the reality surpasses it. The proprietor (the Marquis of Westminster,) is held to be one of the richest peers, and to have, in some respects, the handsomest place in the whole king-

8 EATON HALL.

dom. Its interior finish and furniture arc said to excel even Buckingham Palace. No written description could give an idea of its magnificence. But this was my first "entree" among the great, and I was bewildered amid paintings and sculpture, and tessellated floors of marble and oak, and pavements of mosaic, East India Cabinets, knights in armor, armorial bearings, coats of arms and strange devices, beautifully portrayed in the stained glass of the windows, surmounting full length figures of warriors, knights and mitred bishops, and immense mirrors to multiply all these — perspective views of the long galleries and lofty ceilings, painted in Fresco ; the walls hung, some with crimson, some with blue damask, bordered with rich gimp, the draperies of the windows of velvet, the furniture looking like solid gold. All seemed like a fairy vision. But in the library, amid the dead and living on the book-shelves, surrounded by beautiful stuffed birds, and splendid specimens of mineralogy and various antiques, I was brought to the sober realities of life by the sight of a goodly row of Harper's Family Library in their plain drab bindings.

The park is very extensive, and there are gravel roads running in various directions, where you may drive some sixteen miles, seeing every variety of tree, with deer grazing under them, and now and then a hare tripping merrily over the grass. The garden, too, is in keeping with every thing else. There are graperies, fig-trees and the largest peaches, nectarines and cherries, that I remember ever to have seen, all in full bearing, and what is very singular, the peach-trees are some twenty years old, and hanging like vines ; their fruit, as Mrs. T. says, " would make you feel sad for a week after." The gardener gave Mrs. T. and myself each a small bouquet which I intend to press and keep as a memento of Eaton Hall. The Roman Altar, of which you see an engraving in the book I send describing the Hall,

CHESTER.

is fifteen hundred years old, but in good preservation as you see it in this picture.

At Chester, we visited the Cathedral. This, with the Exchange here, has more the appearance of antiquity than any thing I have yet seen. The steps of the different entrances are worn in the centre at least half a foot from their original depth, and a large figure of the Lion and Unicorn on either side of a niche, containing an immense statue of hewn stone in the old Exchange, is nearly obliterated by the pieces that have scaled off, though it was once in very deep has relief. The cathedral is in form of a cross, and the sides of the interior lined with monumental marble. Chester proper, or what was formerly the city, is surrounded by a high wall, and we mounted the steps running to the top, which steps you find at short intervals leading from the crest of the wall, where is a fine walk, from whence you have a wide view of the surrounding objects both within and without the city walls, as you pass on it around the city about a mile and three quarters. While standing on the summit of the arched gateway, which is very massive, we saw a temperance procession pass through under us, with music playing and banners flying, the ends of the staves are surmounted with a crown, (instead of a liberty cap as with us;) and all looking very much as our processions do, save that the females predominated. From the top of this gate-way we saw also a canal, made some seventy or eighty years ago, and which, for a long distance, seemed cut through the solid rock. From here, we went to visit the Roman Baths, which are situated under an inn ; but the entrance to them is through a little low vegetable shop, dirty and filthy enough. A woman brought a light, and back . of the rooms in which they lived, descending a few steps, we entered a kind of vault, on one side of which is a sort of tank, and at the bottom a spring. Near it, is a

1*

10 LIVERPOOL DOCKS.

narrow door leading to the subterranean passages, 'which only were discovered a few years since. The entrance to them seems very complicated, made so by numerous low pillars of brick, between which you have to crawl, but after a short distance you can walk upright through three passages— one to St. Michael's church, and one to the cloister of a nunnery, three-fourths of a mile distant. The air of the passage is so poisonous at present, that no one has been through them fur a length of time, and we wore not antiquarians enough to venture upon any researches. The day being spent, we bent our foot-steps to the railway and took our seats, glad of a place of rest ; for we were weary with being constantly on our feet since ten in the morning. It is now six P. M., but where the day-light lasts so long, we have more time to see things, for dining at six we care not for tea till ten, hardly candlelight, and though wearied with constant travel, seldom retire until twelve or one. Then only six hours darkness make us rise early in the morning, for it is sun-rise here much earlier than with you.

We had a very intelligent English gentleman as a companion in the cars from Liverpool to Manchester. He, like most others here, spoke with much bitterness of such men as the baron of Eaton Hall, (though the noble Marquis is admitted to be a very amiable man,) with whom the wealth of the country is piled in heaps, while others are obliged to dig and delve for a few coppers ; paying much less taxes than the poorer gentry, though better able to pay more.

On our return to Liverpool we visited the famous docks, for which this city is so deservedly noted. There is a dock within a dock for a great distance, forming large basins between them, with locks like a canal, through which vessels make their entrance and exit. The outer face of the docks is a smooth solid wall, with steps descending to the water, bv means of which you enter the ferry boats and

ROAD TO MANCHESTER. 11

small craft — the shipping all lying within the docks, and only the forests of masts and rigging visible.

The next morning we walked through some of the principal streets, and in Bold street, the Broadway of Liverpool, there is certainly some fine stores, with a great display of elegant goods of the most gaudy colors. You see a great many ladies walking, dressed in what we should call outr6 taste — the dresses and shawls of the gayest and brightest colors, and enormously large figures, but the materials not so rich as ours, nor put on or arranged with half as good taste. Nor did we see any of the beauties — all looked dowdy. We took a carriage, and drove from place to place to see the outside of different public buildings, but I shall not describe them. We took seats in the cars for Manchester, but instead of being enlightened as we expected, were put very much in the dark, by passing at the very outset from the depot into a tunnel, cut through rock, and more than a mile and a quarter long. After getting once more into day-light, we found pretty much the same country I have described from Liverpool to Chester. The same beds of flowers and patches of vegetables on either side wherever there was a toll-house, station, or cottage, the same beautiful hedges and turf fences, and one universal garden outspread before us. The country we passed through was very flat and tame, the eye took in a perfect sett of land to the very horizon, as it had lately gazed upon the ocean where was nought but sky and water. There was no high mountain for a background, no noble forests to relieve the eye from the perpetual sameness of the garden. God has done more for our country, man more for this. Ours is noble and magnificent, carrying the thoughts to the Creator, this beautifully picturesque, and our thoughts are of the earth earth}-. As far as I have yet found, there is a great deficiency of water in all English scenery. But the hand of man has done a

12 RIDE TO YORK.

a vast deal, and every thing is built strong and enduring, and kept with perfect neatness and order. This is noticed even in the streets and docks of Liverpool, and at the departure of cars and boats all is orderly and quiet ; there is none of the bustle and confusion that we have on such occasions. In place of the tall wind-mills, with their giant arms, so remarkable on our first arrival at Liverpool, we have here at the different villages, immense buildings for factories, and chimnies extending from the ground to the height of a steeple, ever straight, either round or square, pouring forth clouds of smoke or steam. We remained at Manchester long enough, as we found there was no access to the manufacturies without waiting longer than we cared to stay in the smoke. They are very shy of admitting strangers into their factories. You require an introduction to some of the proprietors, who live ten or twelve miles from the city, at least to those of the silk and printed calicoes, and silk and lace embroideries, which we cared most to see.

We seated ourselves in the cars for York, passing through a more variegated country than I have yet seen. There are more hills and valleys, and now and then a high ridge by the road side covered with trees like those on the banks of the Hudson. All the rivers here are very small, not wider than our canals, and have not the beautifully wooded banks of ours. The Ayr has a tow path, and is used as a canal. We passed some of the most beautiful little dells with hamlets situated delightfully on the rising ground. There would be a neat stone farm house looking superior to the tiled ones about it, and then the good substantial barns and out-houses surrounding it, and last but not least, a little stone church with its square tower and turrets, and perhaps a little rivulet which we should not deem worthy a bridge of any kind, spanned by a single arch, built of stone, with its sides overgrown with vines and grass. The men employed in the

YORK MINSTER. 18 railroad depots have here a kind of livery, a red frock coat with gilt buttons, yellow facings, and bands on their hats ; and the post coaches have a postillion who rides on the back of one of the horses, and wears a scarlet jacket, drab vest, and small clothes, white-top boots, gilt band and buttons. As soon as we arrived at York and had stored away our luggage into our room at the hotel, we sallied forth impatient to obtain a view of the famous cathedral of York, or Minster, as it is more generally called. And O ! what a glorious sight. It is one I never can forget. I think it has the most elaborate work within and without, the most beautiful stained glass, and the most beautiful carving and statuary that I could have conceived. The ground it covers I should think equal to that covered by one of our blocks in New York. One window in it is as lagre as the whole gable end of one of our country churches, and all the windows are of stained glass, the -secret of which is not now known. The organ has five thousand pipes, and the organ screen is most elaborately carved, and at the bottom are full length statues of the kings from William the Conqueror to Henry VII. Under the large window I mentioned, on the outside, are the head of our Savior and the twelve Apostles, carved in stone, and on all the projections outside and in, are carved heads and images, and in the niches full length statues. Within the church in the centre you look up a tower two hundred and thirty two feet, with nothing to break the view save the power, or rather want of power of seeing. We attended service, and heard a sermon from the Dean on the 24th of June, (St John the Baptist's day.) in the choir, which is ninety nine feet from floor to roof. In the cloisters were very many monuments, and very ancient knights in armor, and bishops and archbishops in their robes, reclining under beautiful canopies ; and nobles and their ladies, in full court dress and standing erect, and beautifully carved in white marble. At the altar,

14 YORK MINSTER.

in one of the Chapels, we were shown the sexton's chair, more than a thousand years old, in which were crowned James VI., Richard III., and some other sovereigns. In another place we were shown the robes King James was crowned in, and some things older than the chair. Underneath the church we saw the pillars of the old Norman church, over which the present one was built. There is one circular window called the Marygold, twenty-seven feet in diameter, and also one called the " five Sisters." It is in five divisions, and was painted or copied from the embroidery of five sisters, (each division being different,) painted at their expense and given to the Minster. It is nearly as high as the large one I before mentioned, but not so wide. I cannot call this a description ; it is merely a catalogue of wonders. It would be impossible, I think, for any one without more than mortal gifts to give a satisfactory description of this immense and elaborate pile. It has no rival in the kingdom. There is here a museum containing the Roman antiquities and remains that have been dug up in various parts, and around the city. Near the museum are the ruins of St. Mary's Abbey, only one side remaining perfect, with the Gothic arched windows and large pillars formed from small ones united. There are broken pillars and parts of the walls, so that you can trace the extent of what was the interior — within which are the stumps of trees, some twelve or fifteen feet in circumference, that have grown and decayed, since the Abbey has been deserted and a ruin. It seemed very strange when wc entered York by railroad, to pass under the walls with a steam engine,, but I suppose wonders will never cease. We crossed the Ouse in a row boat used to ferry passengers over, and then walked around the walls, quite a circuit, passing over Micklegate bar, on which used to be stuck the heads of traitors and those slain in war, and then crossing the river again, visited York

Clifford's tower. 15

Castle, now a prison for capital offenders, and like every thing else here, it is the picture of neatness itself. The building is round, and half of it is divided into wards with paved courts or yards between, in which the prisoners take their exercise together. They are allowed to converse with each other, and there is a schoolmaster who comes every day to set them copies, and they amuse themselves in reading and writing, having no work to do but to keep themselves and their apartments clean. The cells in which they sleep are quite roomy, more so than our state-rooms in the ship, the sides, top and bottom of them are each one solid stout', and the door plates of iron, and bolts and locks to make them fast. The prison relics were rather disgusting than interesting, consisting of various instruments with which crimes have been committed, and plaster busts of famous murderers. We were shown the skull of the man whom Eugene Aram murdered, and the different irons usedto confine the famous Dick Turpin.

There is little left of the old Castle, the present one being built upon its fragments. The Clifford's Tower of Ivanhoe, where Isaac the Jew of York was confined, is enclosed in a wall to preserve it, and which you ascend by a winding stair to the top, where you can walk round and have a fair view of the city, the Minster, the Abbey ruins, the walls and the country beyond. I gathered some sweet wall flowers and ivy growing between the stones, as a memento of Clifford Tower, and descending, we wended our way homewards. The inn, after the old English fashion, has a place for loaded carriages and wagons to drive to in the rear to unload, where were the post-boys, ostlers, and grooms, all busy in their different occupations, the stables extending some distance on either side in the rear.

They have a ^ry comfortable way at the inns here. Having no public drawing room, you are shown into a parlor wheh

16 DURHAM.

you have to yourself ; and when they set a table for you, the lady traveller not only pours the tea, but makes it on the table, on which they always place the caddy ; and a boiling kettle simmers on the hob of the grate. The waiter, when he has placed all on the table, retires, and you have it all to yourself, unite like home. And they give you in England such fine bread and butter, hot muffins for tea and breakfast, fresh eggs, delicious tea, and for dinner the juciest lamb and mutton, and the "roast beef of England." I think we have as good beef, but we have no Cheshire cheese, and the cream cheese (what we call pot cheese) is here most exquisite. I have certainly realized the comfort of an English inn. Every thing about York bears the stamp of age. The structure, material, and color of the houses, the narrow and irregular streets, all betoken an age gone by. The second story projects over the lower, and if there is one above, that projects over the second, so that in a narrow street you may almost shake hands across it from the upper windows. The side walks are only wide enough for one, and the red-tiled roofs, in ridges with troughs between, all look strange, and I begin to feel very antique myself. I fancy when I look in the glass, I have grown old, and certainly feel older than I did, having lived a year in the past week ; I know not what is yet before me, yet I feel a great regret in leaving York.

I am now at Durham, and have attended church in the Cathedral to-day (Sunday.) This is another relic of by gone times. It was built in the 11th century, and the body of the patron saint (St. Cuthbert) is entombed here. He was first buried in some other place in the Gth century, but afterwards his body was removed hither and the clothes in which he was interred, being at the time of the removal in a perfect state. His body was again taken up in 1837, when but little remained of the holy Saint Cuthbert. In fne Cathedral, are many old monuments ; one to the venerable Bede, and se-

NEWCASTLE. 17 veral knights in armor reclining, but very much broken and mutilated. On the side of one of the towers, in a niche, is carved a cow, and two milk-maids, connected with which is a legend telling how Durham came by its name. There are some fine buildings connected with the Cathedral, the Dean's Palace, the prebendaries, the Hospital, and old Durham Castle, ten years since converted into a college. They all stand on the banks of the Wier, which are very high and covered on both sides of the narrow river with beautiful woods, through which are fine walks, like our Hoboken, and extending some three miles up the river. The houses in both York and Durham are built with the upper stories projecting over the under. Here in Newcastle-upon-Tyne, (where I am now writing,) the houses are some six or seven stories high, having one wide projecting window in front, the windows in each story jutting a little over the under, having the appearance of high boxes piled on each other. The roads and streets throughout England are all Macadamized as smooth as a floor, and the coaches roll over them at the rate often miles an hour. The street in which we are, at Newcastle-upon-Tyne, is called Grey-street, and is lined with buildings on either side like palaces, extending near half a mile, and at the head of it, on a high hill, is a tall monument surmounted with a statue of Earl Grey.

Tuesday. To-day, between Newcastle and Melrose Abbey, we have passed a most delightful country. The English coaches are made to carry sixteen outside and four within, but those who sit inside are shut out entirely from a view of the country. So we took our places on the top, and though it was very cold, with a specimen of the Scotch mi*t, I did not regret my choice. Four horses to each coach, and a change every six miles, enable them to travel at great speed. We saw many fine places on our way, and then they have such pretty names. There was Belle Cas-

18 CHEVIOTS.

tie, Otterbay Tower, Ankram, Rutherford, Ravensworth and Guernsey Place — do they not sound well ?

The hedges here are in full bloom, some with white, some pink blossoms, and as thickly clustered as our flowering almond. When we came in sight of the Cheviot hills, the face of the country materially changed from beautifully cultivated fields, to bleak barren moor, extending for miles around, and covered with a thick black bushy grass, which is the Scotch heather. The country here has no fences to divide it, and is only separated from the road by white painted posts, tipped with black, to guide the drivers when the ground is covered with snow. On the tops of the Cheviots are cairns or stones, piled up in a pyramidal form, to serve as land-marks to the shepherds in winter. The sides of these hills, or rather mountains, are dotted over with innumerable flocks of sheep, with their shepherds tending them. They wear a grey woollen cap, a plaid thrown over the shoulders, then brought around the waist, and tied under the left arm, a crook in their hands, and a dog at their feet ; and you see frequently circular enclosures of stone wall for sheep folds. This is realizing the romance of story books ; but it seems to me more beautiful in reality than I ever dreamed of in imagination.

Before ascending the mountains, is a tract of country very much resembling Connecticut. At the top of the ridge is a white stick, which marks the boundary between England and Scotland. It is sixteen hundred feet above the sea, and very cold, but the view is rich indeed. For here are the Cheviot hills not covered with shrubs and trees like ours, but with grass which feeds the flocks of sheep scattered all over their sides. Those in the distance are enveloped in mist, which gives to them a blue color, and others are cultivated, and exhibit different hues acaccording to the vegetation with which they are clad.

TRVIOT. 19

On the Scottish side, the country is much more magnificent — more like America. The ridges of the mountains are seen on every side as you wind through the vallies between ; and Teviot's stream meanders through these vallies, its sides covered with beautiful trees, by which you can trace its course for miles. Among these is the Laburnum, as high and as large as our pear-trees, its branches drooping with the weight of its golden blossoms ; and long narrow strips of pine groves, with their dark sombre green, that seem like our American forests. The foliage of the trees is of every shade of verdure, adding in my view much to the beauty of the landscape. We have arrived at Edinburgh, of which you may expect some account in my next; as well of Dryburgh Abbey, Melrose and Abbotsford.